Little Abbott Loses His Spoon

Chapter One

Abbott

“How much longer?” Brock was whining up a storm, despite this being a surprise trip for him.

“Cut it out.” Luke gave him a playful smack to the head. “This is your birthday surprise. You need to behave.”

“You’re not my daddy.” He stuck his tongue out.

Ever since Brock got a daddy, he was insufferable in his bragging, but I couldn’t blame him. He was happier than I’d seen him ever.

“Would you stop fighting back there? I’m trying to drive without crashing into a tree.” The trip was Rowan’s idea.

Brock’s birthday had been last month, but this was the perfect weekend for it. Rowan’s, Brock’s, and Sammy’s daddies were on some sort of fishing trip, which gave us littles time to have unsupervised fun.

Rowan didn’t play with us very often. He was more of a homebody, and his daddy was too. We’d all been surprised when he came up with the idea to surprise Brock with a trip to the country’s biggest sticker store. It had been an instant yes.

We weren’t exactly sure how great this place was.

Its social media page showed the outside of the store and the website that had the same exact picture and a list of companies they had stickers from, along with “and more.” But whether it was amazing or not, it was going to be a fun way to spend the day, whining aside.

We’d go, check out the stickers, eat lunch, hit up the toy store—which was also one of the largest around that was still brick and mortar—and then come home. It was too bad that Sammy had to work, but getting all five of us in the same place at the same time had become nearly impossible.

“Why did you pick someplace so far away?” Brock was still at it.

“Brock, are you going to keep whining the entire trip?” I asked.

“Absolutely.” At least he was honest.

Fortunately, the sticker store was only about ten minutes away from where we were and when we got there, it was everything I hoped it would be and more.

Brock was the resident sticker lover, but all of us left with piles of stickers, along with reusable sticker books, and my favorite thing of all, a “reusable sticker wall.” It wasn’t a wall at all, but you put it on your wall and it was a place you could change your stickers whenever you wanted.

Apartment life dictated I couldn’t decorate with anything that wasn’t fully removable.

I wasn’t even allowed to nail a picture hook.

Instead, we were told to use the removable Velcro strips.

This sticker wall was going to be perfect.

“Ouch.” Luke swiped his credit card. He was the last of us.

It was shocking how quickly little stickers added up. Although I doubted any of us had a single regret, and we might all be turning into sticker people after this trip.

“Where are we going to eat?” Luke asked as we piled into Rowan’s car.

“They have an anime café,” Rowan offered.

Luke turned that down, saying it was pricey, and he wanted to save the last of his spending money for the toy store. And I 100 percent got that. Ultimately, it was for the best because we found a local fast-food chain that was only in this city and had the best children’s menu on the planet.

Our meals had no age restriction and came with paper chef hats. We also got placemats to color and were able to pick our toy theme. Our choices were between cars, trains, stuffies, or books. According to the display, the options switched out monthly. We’d be back.

As much as I loved books, and I really loved books, I couldn’t turn down a stuffie.

We spent lunch eating our chicken nuggets and mac and cheese with chocolate milk, comparing our toys.

My stuffie was cute and shaped like a hamburger and had adorable little eyes, but the winner was Rowan’s train.

Even the door slid open. You couldn’t get much cooler than that.

And, yes, they cost as much as adult meals with less food. Totally worth it.

“Toy store!” Brock ran to the car. “Guys, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had that was not with my daddy.”

“We know, we know, your daddy’s the best, Brock.” Rowan rolled his eyes.

And for our friend Brock, he really was the best daddy. And Rowan’s daddy was the best daddy for him. And our friend Sammy’s, same.

Luke told me more than once that the best daddy for us was out there too. And I wanted to believe him, but, so far, I hadn’t had the best of luck—as in, any.

I tried an app for people in the lifestyle a few years ago, before I moved here, and that was a whole other level of hell I never wanted to go to again.

It was people into the kink and not into the relationship part of it.

Many of them were embarrassed by their interests and would use code names and not be willing to be seen in public with me for so much as a cup of coffee.

As if people seeing me with him would instantly have them thinking he liked me in a onesie.

Looking for someone to scene only with was fine, if that was what you were looking for, but I hadn’t been.

I didn’t want someone who came over, played with me, and left.

If I wanted playmates, I’d meet other littles.

Having someone take care of me, knowing the entire time they were going to leave—meant I was never able to fully enjoy the care that they gave because it had that end point, even if I wasn’t done with aftercare.

“This toy store has four stories!” I snapped a picture and sent it to Sammy. He was working and could probably use the distraction. At least that was what I told myself.

Let us know if you want anything or if you want pictures of any areas. We’ll hook you up.

We went aisle by aisle, and as much money as we spent in the sticker store, we spent even more in there.

Once we got to each area, we’d ask Sammy if there was anything he wanted pictures of.

With the exception of a little easel, he was good.

He said his daddy spoiled him plenty already, which was true, but he deserved it.

Just as we were checking out, he texted again, and I thought maybe he changed his mind. But instead, it was an invitation that he sent in the group chat to a sundae party at Chained. Everybody was an instant yes except for me.

I passed and didn’t give an excuse. They knew I wasn’t really into the super-chaotic events. With daddies there to kind of keep the calm? Yes. Parties that didn’t include lots of sugar? Sometimes. But this? This just sounded loud, sticky, and possibly overwhelming. It was best I sat it out.

No one said a thing about my decline until we got in the car. Before we pulled out of the parking lot, Rowan turned to face me in the back seat and said, “Real talk. You love ice cream more than any of us. You even have your own ice-cream spoon. Come. If you don’t like it, we’ll go home.”

“That’s not fair to you guys.”

“How is that not fair?” Rowan was apparently in one of his stubborn moods.

So were the others. From there, the others all piped in, asking me to come. And the more they hyped it up, the more I realized I loved ice-cream bars. I could go eat only.

I typed, I’m in, and hit send. Their phones all buzzed.

“You know we’re right here,” Brock said.

“But Sammy isn’t. And besides, I don’t want you guys hanging out in the parking lot all day. I want to go home and play with my new dinosaur sensory box.”

It was filled with sand and dinosaurs and had digging tools. Whoever designed it was a genius.

“Fine. We’re leaving,” he said, a smile on his face that said he knew he won.

But the more I thought of it, the more I thought maybe I was winning. I did love ice cream.