“Isn’t that the trick?” I touched the yard. “That is so soft. Do you tell people which type of yarn to use or only colors?”
“I do give the color they need and the weight but not a specific brand usually. I have done a couple of collabs, though. Generally, I prefer not to. I like the idea that if someone gets a better deal on one brand or another, they can grab it. And I actually do kits, so I guess in those cases it is specific. But even there, I try to find the best deal I can for the best quality.”
“No wonder people love working your designs. I’ve heard a few doms, head-to-toe leather, talking about how great your instructions are, too.”
Just then, the server returned with my drink and as she turned away, Rowan came skipping over. He held his daddy’s hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Look, Daddy. Daddy Will is here!”
“I see that.” Summit greeted the other daddies and settled in an arm chair. “Do you want something to drink, Rowan?”
“First, I have to do something important.” Letting go of Summit’s hand, he approached me, his smile remarkably even bigger. “Daddy Will, I have something for you.” He held his other hand behind his back.
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s a present.” He thrust a large manila envelope in my direction. “For you.”
“That’s nice, Rowan.” I took it, puzzled. “But why?”
“It’s from Sammy.”
My heart rate kicked up, and I opened the flap and slid out the contents. It was a drawing of the cabin where I’d stayed with the other daddies and littles, the lake in front with a little boat bobbing in the water. I wasn’t sure how he made the boat seem to move, but the whole thing was so good. “Wow. Look at this.” I turned it so the others could see. “Isn’t it great. He has a real gift.”
“Yes, he does.” Summit pulled his little over to sit on his lap. “A lot of work went into that, too.”
“I can’t even imagine, but I really love it. What a great memento from a special weekend.”
“Notice there are no fish in sight,” Bridger quipped. “So, it’s very accurate.”
I let them pass it around, wanting to be gracious but nervous that anything should happen to it. When it finally made its way back to me, I tucked it carefully in the envelope and set it on the sofa next to me. “What a thoughtful gift,” I said, really wanting to ask Rowan for Sammy’s number. “I’m going to have it framed.”
I stayed until all of my friends wandered off to the little room. Right now, I was only interested in one little, and if I went along, I’d feel like I needed to play with a single little. Driving home, I was so mixed up. He’d gone to so much trouble with his gift to me, and that had to mean he liked me a little, right?
But he’d had my phone number all along and never contacted me, so was this just his way of thanking me since I hadn’t allowed him to pay me?
At home, I pulled the picture out again and looked at it. The detail was incredible, and this time, it brought with it a sticky note that hadn’t come out before.
A phone number.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
Chapter Nine
Sammy
After Will left that night, I started a new sketchbook, one that we found while going through the cabin. My guess was my grandfather had picked it up for me at some point because on the front cover was a teddy bear. He had a habit of buying presents and losing them. More than once, I got a Christmas present on my birthday or later.
I drew through that night. I drew Will showing me how to secure the boat. I drew the chocolate milk from the diner. I drew the fairy tree. I kept adding new memories, the inspiration hitting me one image after another.
It had been a long time since I’ve been that focused, and when I went to bed that night, I fell asleep easily. I wanted to tell him all about my new sketchbook and my accomplishments that weekend after we parted ways, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so.
Will had given me his number. It would be easy to call him, but he’d said, “In case you need it,” when he did. Technically, I didn’tneedto call him. I wanted to, and those were two very different things.
When I got home from the weekend, I kept thinking about how I wanted to ask Rowan all about the trip and Will, and to tell him all about my time with Daddy. But Rowan and his daddy were spending a night at a B&B on their way back and making a long weekend of it. His daddy was constantly spoiling him like that. I loved that for him, but this time, it left me with a lot to say, and no one to say it to, unless I bugged Brock while he was working, and I didn’t want to be that friend.
So I did the next best thing, and I took out my big sketchbook, tore out a piece of paper, and began to draw. Thistime, it wasn’t a memory for me or a specific memory at all. It was the cabin with the lake in the background. And it wasn’t for me; it was a thank-you gift for Will. Originally, I’d offered to pay him. He flat-out refused. He didn’t even let me buy his pancakes. But a drawing from somebody whose art wasn’t worth more than a couple bucks at a flea market, how could he refuse that?
Drawing the picture was one thing. It flowed easily and I loved the final result. But writing the thank-you card? That was another.
There was so much to say that couldn’t be summarized in a simple thank-you, but also oversharing would mean that he had to listen to my emotional baggage once more. After overthinking it for too long, I kept the card very simple: “Thank you for being my daddy when I needed one.” Sweet and to the point. Or at least, that was what I was going for.
