“That’s not the same. I can’t go to the movies or to a restaurant or a party.” I cringe at the thought of any of those things.
She calmly responds. “I bet you could do any of those things if he was with you.”
I draw in a breath and keep pacing my apartment. I’ve been pacing for hours. She’s probably right. The image of the red, fire-breathing dragon comes to mind. I could even do that. I bet if my Daddy held my hand, I could even go to the theater, as long as it didn’t have red seats and we didn’t get red vines. Popcorn sometimes makes me nervous, but it’s not as loud as chips.
“Josie, you’re letting your imagination get away from you, honey. He has only been gone ten hours. He’s at work. Or maybe he got off recently, and now he’s at home because he thought you would already be in bed asleep and he didn’t want to wake you because he assumed you would be asleep.”
I keep sniffling.
“Honey, I think you should do exactly that. Get in bed. I bet he’ll call you first thing in the morning.”
“I don’t want him to call me in the morning, Mom. I want him to call me now,” I whine.
“Well, you’re going to need to dig into your adult side and think more rationally. I know you love this man, Josie. It’s obvious. And I bet he loves you too. You’re going to have to find a way to trust him. When he can’t call you, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. It means he’s tied up with work.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. Rationally, I know she’s right. But I’m sad and scared. My Little is very nervous. My adult is in a panic.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, and I gasp. I rush over and look through the peephole. “Mom, he’s here,” I whisper before I hang up and set the phone down.
I throw the door open, swiping at the tears on my face. I’m a mess. My pigtails have almost fallen completely out. My dress is wrinkly from napping in it and balling the front up in my fists.
“Princess…” He comes into my apartment, shuts the door, and pulls me into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
I start crying again. I can’t stop it. I want to be stronger than I feel, but I’m not.
“Baby girl…” he picks me up and carries me to the armchair where he sits with me in his lap. He cups my face. His brow is furrowed. “Have you been crying all day?”
I swallow, not wanting to admit such a thing, but he can tell. My face is puffy and red. I’ve cried so many times there are tear tracks on my cheeks. And my hair. Jeez.
“I scared you, didn’t I, princess?” He rubs my back.
I nod.
He holds me, rocking me, rubbing my back, kissing my neck until I start to breathe regularly.
“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” I finally call him Daddy.
“No, Baby girl.” He brushes my hair back. “Not at all.”
“I’m so needy.”
“I love you, Josie. Just exactly the way you are. We’ve only been together for a week. It’s understandable that you would panic when I abruptly dump you back at your apartment and take off for ten hours without a word. And I’m so very sorry that happened. I thought about you all day, but I had an intense situation to deal with, and there was no chance for me to call. By the time I was able to leave, all I wanted to do was run for my truck and get here as fast as possible.”
Tears track down my cheeks again. “I’m a terrible girlfriend.”
He brushes them off. “You’re not. You’re human. Things like this will happen from time to time. When you know me better, you’ll stop feeling afraid that I might not return. I will always come back to you. I never should have told you I would always call. I didn’t take into consideration the fact that sometimes it’s not possible, and I made you panic.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I couldn’t help it. I got so scared. I was worried maybe you believed I was too Little too often. I don’t bring my adult out very much. I thought you maybe got tired.”
“I will never get tired. I love your Little to pieces. It pleases me greatly when you let me take care of you. It’s how I’m wired. I want to spend my entire life taking care of you in every way. And I did get a pretty good view of your adult last night while I was buried inside you.” He smiles.
I flush. That’s true.
He stands, keeping me cradled in his arms. “Let’s go home. I know just the thing that will help my Little girl feel better.” He sets me on my feet, finds my shoes, and puts them on before helping me into my coat.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re back at Daddy’s house. I’m still sniffling, mostly because I feel bad about overreacting to his absence.
He carries me straight into the nursery, sits me on the changing table, and removes my coat and shoes. He cups my face before continuing. “I think my Baby girl needs some time in a younger space to recuperate. It will help you relax.”
