Chapter 4
Chapter Four
By the time she reached her room, Fiera’s arms were working about as well as wet spaghetti noodles.
She’d really overpacked. After wrestling the suitcases inside, she let them drop with a thud that echoed slightly off the wooden walls.
Thank goodness the wide plank flooring was softened with a large area rug.
She stood there for a second, breathing and listening to the quiet hum of the space. The room smelled of clean linen and pine. Squinting at the sunlight spilling warm and golden through the glass doors that led to a balcony, she tipped the sunglasses resting on her head to cover her eyes.
Everything in her wanted to explore, but first things first. Lugging her largest suitcase to the extra-long luggage rack, she hefted it up and took out her two favorite blankets.
The soft, furry one went over the bedspread first. She loved how it felt under her when she slept.
Next, she shook out her white blanket and hugged it tight.
She called it her cloud because it was so soft. That’s what it felt like.
She did the same thing with her pillowcases before changing the lightbulbs from white to soft amber, which made her room cozier and reduced glare while darkening shadows.
Thank goodness the overhead lights could be adjusted to candlelight.
That was important to her, since her Waardenburg Syndrome caused her to process the world in layers.
With the softer lighting, she absentmindedly pushed her sunglasses back to the top of her head.
Now for the fun part. She unpacked her stuffies, arranging them on the bed the way they sat at home so they would be comfortable. She stacked her coloring books on the small desk near the fireplace and lined up her snacks neatly in the kitchenette.
Ugh!
She’d brought enough to survive a minor apocalypse. But she’d learned long ago what she needed. Last of all, she put her clothes away in the drawers and the closet. The room looked… lived-in and familiar.
Once her belongings were settled, Fiera pushed open the double French doors of her suite and stepped onto the narrow wrought-iron balcony, letting them swing shut behind her with a soft, deliberate click.
The sudden burst of noise surprised her, and she gave a silent thank-you for her soundproof room.
Peals of laughter and teasing filled the air.
The low echoes of Daddies’ and Mommies’ voices saying things that made their Littles squeal sparked a longing in her she hadn’t expected.
After a moment’s hesitation, she rested her hands on the cool railing but didn’t look down.
First, she adjusted her sunglasses, sliding them from the top of her head onto her nose. The tinted lenses softened the glare, dimming the world just enough to make it manageable. Her shoulders loosened by a fraction. Only then did she tilt her chin and let herself see.
The center court opened beneath her like a living postcard. It looked just like the photos in the brochure and on the website.
Three large jacuzzi tubs steamed gently along one side of the resort pool which shimmered in the afternoon light. The other side butted up against a splash pad with fountains and sprinklers to play in. Littles swam leisurely laps or floated on their backs, some laughing, some quiet.
Lifeguards were posted at every corner, alert but unintrusive. Mommies and Daddies sat poolside, close enough to touch, near enough to intervene if needed, alert enough that no one had to wonder if they were paying attention or could easily step in should some Little get into mischief.
On the far side of the court, a playground spread out in bright, cheerful geometry. Swings, slides, and climbing towers stood ready to provide adventure. A few Littles played there now, moving carefully but joyfully. Once again, staff members stood nearby, guiding with gentle hands and firm voices.
“Feet first.”
“Wait your turn.”
“That one’s not safe without your Daddy. Let me help you check with him.”
She couldn’t suppress a shiver of delight at how the rules were enforced without embarrassing eager Littles.
Fiera swallowed hard as another feeling rose inside her.
It wasn’t jealousy. Well, not exactly. It was more like wanting something you’d convinced yourself could only be pretend for you, then realizing it could have been real all along.
She wanted this. All of it. She wanted someone who cared enough to watch over her so she didn’t have to.
Someone steady enough to notice when the light grew too bright.
Or when the noise began to stack instead of fade.
Or when her body went still in that particular way that meant she was overwhelmed.
She’d lived too long as the one who compensated. The one who always compromised her needs for the wants of another. Her eyes traced the courtyard again, lingering on a Daddy whose hand rested lightly at the small of his Little’s back. Not gripping… just there as a reminder. A promise.
She wanted promises like that, strong and kind, from someone who would always follow through.
The thought tightened her throat. Damn it.
It had been nine months. Her body should have gotten with the program by now.
It wasn’t like she thought all people were angels in disguise.
But the one she’d been with turned out to be the exact opposite.
Just the thought of him and her body triggered.
She leaned more of her weight into the railing, the iron pressing reassuringly into her palms. The breeze tickled her bare legs as it brushed against her thighs. She breathed it in slowly, the way she taught her kindergarteners back home to do when they felt overwhelmed.
She knew the drill. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. Focusing on the physical, she named five things she could see.
Water sparkled and flashed blue in the pool.
White patches of sunlight danced across the grass.
A staff member knelt at a Little’s eye level to tie her shoe.
A Daddy laughed, unguarded, as his Little splashed him with water.
The dark outline of the mountains stood solid beyond the resort’s boundaries.
But her heart was still beating too fast.
This was something she hadn’t planned for. The longing for what all the other Littles here had. Or the way seeing it all up close made that longing louder instead of quieter.
She’d told herself she was here to rest, to observe, to take everything in, slow and careful, like a scientist. She’d lied.
She stood there, watching Littles handled with care and kindness… and attention. Actually being cared for rather than merely promised and forgotten? That stirred a dangerous feeling inside her that she couldn’t squash.
Hope.
Yeah, been there, done that. Hope was for other people. She wasn’t that brave. What if she hoped for a Daddy, and everything went wrong? What if she found out she really was too much as her last Daddy had said?
To him, she was always too… something. Too sensitive or too insensitive.
Too loud or too quiet. Too laid-back or too intense.
Oh, and too needy, that was a big one. No question she was too needy, and in ways she couldn’t easily explain to others.
Having Waardenburg Syndrome meant the world sometimes came at her sideways, in unpredictable, confusing ways.
Sometimes the light shone sharper, the sounds hit harder, and her attention was harder to control.
Oh, she managed it well. She had to. But that didn’t mean other people could deal with it. And managing wasn’t the same as being normal, whatever that was.
Her former Daddy’s voice surfaced uninvited, cool and distant. “You’re asking for too much. I need peace. You’re too intense.”
Her fingers curled tighter around the railing.
What if that happened again here? What if she gathered the courage to be seen and discovered that even in a place built for Littles like her, she was inconvenient?
Or worse, stared at and then politely ignored?
The humiliation of trying to fit in and being rejected scared her to death.
That was why she tended to go overboard.
If she did something wild, there was always an excuse for people not to like her. At least then it was her choice.
She was always the one left to manage herself while everyone else had fun together. The thought left her chest hollow.
Still, she couldn’t make herself look away. Below her, a Little hesitated at the edge of the pool, uncertainty etched into every line of her body. She could almost feel the girl’s longing and fear.
The girl’s Daddy noticed right away. He didn’t rush over to her or hover nearby. He smiled, held out his hand, and waited. After a beat, she took it.
For some reason, a picture of the cowboy she’d seen earlier flashed through Fiera’s mind. Was he a Daddy? So far, all the Littles she saw had someone with them. More than likely, he already had a Little of his own.
He was probably like the Daddy in the pool below. He was probably the perfect Daddy for some lucky Little who was never too much or not enough. Fiera’s breath caught as everything she longed for was captured in one patient moment.
She wanted that kind of Daddy. She wanted it so badly it scared her. Not to be pulled or pushed, but to be worth waiting for. Then she remembered that look they’d shared. It was probably just a coincidence. Her Little was reading too much into it.
She stayed on the balcony longer than she’d meant to, letting the scene fill her heart, letting the idea of emotional safety as something that could be real settle deep into her bones. Eventually, she nudged her sunglasses back onto her head and stepped back from the railing.
Her heart still raced. Her hands were still unsteady. But beneath the fear, beneath the old warnings and learned restraint, something else had sprouted. Now, a quiet, stubborn peace was taking root. She could do this.