A Little Spilled Milk (The Lactin Brotherhood)

1. Vinnie

1

VINNIE

Happy Hour. Dance Dome. 8 p.m.

I stared down at my phone screen. My bestie, Joel, had been bugging my ass to come and “have fun” for a few weeks now. I felt bad, but the reality was I didn’t see the fun in going out, getting wasted, and blowing all of my money on alcohol and overpriced french fries in a loud room full of his work friends. Maybe that made me a shit friend, but sucking it up once every month or so was all I could muster.

There had been a time when Joel didn’t enjoy that kind of “fun” either. Ever since he started working at his new agency and hanging around what he considers “the cool kids,” he’d been all about clubbing and bar hopping.

For a split second, I thought about going. It would make him happy, and I could suck it up for the night. But today of all days, I really didn’t have the money.

Can’t. Sorry. No $$$$$ I shot back and turned on my ignition, heading to the reason why I didn’t have any money.

My phone binged and binged and binged with one notification after another as I drove. I ignored them. Driving and texting was asking for an accident, and he could wait. I already knew what they were going to say.

Come on, it’s once. It’s once. It’s not a big deal. You never want to have any fun.

Or It’s not that expensive.

I was surprised when I pulled into the parking lot of my destination and saw his message:

You worked overtime six times in the past two weeks. You have the money. Just tell the truth—you don’t want to come.

I sucked it up and called him. I didn’t want him to feel bad, and it was better to tell him the truth, even the part that was embarrassing. He was going to tell me it was a waste of money to buy milk from one of the Lactin Brotherhood and that I should just warm cow’s milk up on the stove to save money. I just knew it. But I’d rather have him explaining all the reasons why I was being foolish than having hurt feelings.

This was Joel. He’d forgive me for being a shit friend, and I’d try to rally and go with him and his friends next time.

“Does this mean you’re coming?” He didn’t bother with hellos.

“No. Seriously, I can’t. And before you tell me all the reasons why I should—I know, I’m a craptastic friend, and I should come out with you once in a while.” Goodness knew he’d played with me when he wasn’t in the mood more than a time or two. “But Joel, the cover charge tonight, and the soda alone is like six bucks now. The fries last time were eight dollars. That’s not even getting food food.”

He started to cut me off, and I told him firmly, “I really don’t have any money.”

“That’s the part I don’t understand. How do you not have money?” From his perspective, I got it. My house was small and bought on foreclosure, my job wasn’t great but had overtime opportunities galore, and aside from buying a manga or two each week, I wasn’t bad with my money. From the outside I should have had plenty of spending cash.

“I—oh, because—fine.” Why was this so hard? Joel had seen me in diapers. This was nothing compared to that. “I’ll tell you. I’m picking up a month’s supply of milk, and it’s depleting my savings.”

“Oh, sorry,” and just like that his tone changed. “I thought it was your manga addiction.”

“My manga is not an addiction. Buying your favorite series when they come out is normal.”

“It’s normal when you don’t have twenty favorite series.” It was eleven. “Seriously, I won’t bug you. I know that’s important to you. I just thought maybe… I don’t know… that you were mad at me or something.”

“I’m not. Promise. And if I ever am, you’ll be the first to know. Promise.”

Joel was one of the only people who knew I was Little. He played with me sometimes, and he liked that, but he wasn’t truly a Little. He didn’t want a Daddy. He just liked hanging out with other Littles from time to time.

No part of him understood why I liked milk and why I preferred human milk over what we bought at the store, but he respected it. And I felt guilty for not just telling him that was the main reason for being antisocial from the beginning.

“I’d offer to cover you, but you’d decline.”

“Yeah, I would. But seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll come next time, promise. Even though it’s loud, overpriced, and you know some of your work friends are kind of handsy.” I really didn’t like his work friends. And I was sure they were nice enough in other settings, but when they went out, they drank far too much.

“You mean Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean Mark.” When Mark drank, he got affectionate and didn’t care who the object of that was.

“He pulled that with Lila the other day and got fired.” That was news.

“Good. He deserves that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he bothered you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it was a drinking thing so it wasn’t that big of a deal, and besides… It’s not like you’re my Daddy.” Nor would he want to be.

“No, I’m no Daddy, but I am your friend.” We’d met at college, and unlike me, he got a really great job right afterward, whereas I was still making shit money. “You need a Daddy.”

“I’ll just go buy one at the Daddy store.” I unclicked my seatbelt. I didn’t want to piss off the man I was getting my milk from. It was my first time purchasing from him, and if I was too much of a pain by being late, he’d choose someone else to sell to next time.

“It’s not like you go out of your way to have a Daddy, either. You know, there are nights where you can go be Little and meet them.”

“I know. But I really am busy.” And the last few times I put myself out there, it didn’t go well.

“You’re busy because you’re earning money so you can get milk, when maybe you could find a Daddy. You could do both.”

If it was as easy as that, I’d have already done it. But when Joel got like this, he would continue to find “solutions” for me as a way of helping. I didn’t have time for that.

“I’m hanging up now. I’m going to be late for my pickup.”

“Fine. Hang up. But thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You’re my friend, and I should’ve told you from the beginning.” I glanced at the phone. Three minutes.

“What are you going to do after the milk pickup?”

“I was going to go home. Put on some of my Little clothes. Climb into bed with my milk and my manga.” It was the perfect end to the day, if you asked me.

“You know, the manga doesn’t really go with being Little.” I opened the car door so he could hear the binging and stop chatting already. He was the worst to get off the line. I didn’t mind most of the time, but I had someplace to be in two minutes.

“That’s fine. It makes me happy.”

“At the end of the day, isn’t that all that matters?”

“Yeah. I guess it kind of does.”

We got off the phone, and I went up to apartment 4C, where the man I was connected with on the app had my frozen milk ready for me, packed nicely in a cooler. I handed him the money that I’d been squirreling away all month, and not once did I feel bad about it.

He was providing something I couldn’t, and he deserved it.

I just needed to get a better job.

Or maybe… Maybe Joel was right. Maybe I needed a Daddy… a lactating Daddy—one who could give me what I wanted straight from the tap, and in return, I could be the bestest boy in the whole wide world.

An image of my sexy new neighbor flashed through my mind. What were the odds of a sexy Daddy who lactated, was single, preferred or at least was open to men, and thought I was adorable moving into the house next door? Not very good. That was for sure.