Page 5 of BJ’s Lost Crayons (Found by Daddy #13)

BJ

I had broken down boxes, everything put away with the exception of a couple of kitchen ones I wasn’t ready to deal with—especially the one with my junk drawer contents.

Most everything else was in its place. The fridge even stocked with food.

But it still wasn’t home. That was going to take a while.

What I lost never reappeared. I knew going in that the odds of getting the box I lost back were slim to none.

That didn’t stop me from trying my best. I answered every unknown call, checked back on my social media posts, and had replaced the flyer downstairs twice already.

Was it healthy to hold on like this? Of course it wasn’t. But it was what it was.

“So, Stu, this new box is gonna have to do.” I’d moved him over to the window so I could see him while hanging out in the living room. It was safer for him than the kitchen and got more light than my bedroom. I’d probably spend most of my awake time here anyway.

I’d found the new container at the dollar store. It was similar-ish in size and shape to my favorite crayon box, but it was shiny and new. The birthday theme with balloons and little party hats wasn’t exactly the same as the New Year’s vibe, but close enough. Or so I kept telling myself.

It was time to move on.

I laid all my crayons and coloring books out on the floor, along with pretty much the rest of my little things.

Originally, I’d planned to keep them in a closet in plastic totes.

It had worked in the past, but this closet was smaller.

Instead, I found a small chest of drawers online.

It would be there within the next couple of days and when it arrived, everything was ready to do.

Compared to some I’d known over the years, I didn’t have a ton of little things. I had a few toys, a handful of onesies, shorts, socks, different underwear and diapers, and, of course, pajamas. The jam-jams were my favorite, probably because they could be both little and big.

Once they were laid out, I realized there was a lot more than I thought.

It was hardly enough to make a nursery—the ultimate dream for many littles.

I probably did want the nursery, too. But it wasn’t just about the space.

It was about what the nursery represented, which to me was having a daddy to take care of me.

I dumped out a box of crayons I’d picked up at the thrift store earlier in the day.

It was one of those containers they taped up so you didn’t really know what all was inside.

I wasn’t able to look through it, which I both loved and hated.

It made this part more fun but also often meant that it was half filled with the crayons you couldn’t actually color with.

For all I knew, it was gonna have nothing of any great worth, but there was always hope.

And I took finding it as a sign that things were gonna turn around.

I needed to quit moping over my lost box.

Sure, there were lots of things I loved in there, but at the end of the day, they were just things.

I put the blues of all sorts into one pile, the reds in another, the greens in yet another, and on and on, and had about half of it done when there was a knock at the door.

I wanted to ignore it. The few times I’d had people stop by, it was either someone looking for Frank, who used to live here, or one of the people on the floor wanting to introduce themselves.

And while it was wonderful that they wanted to get to know me, I was not in the mood.

Not tonight. Things were starting to settle, and the energy that came with moving was dwindling, allowing the feelings to settle in. I wanted to be alone.

But, begrudgingly, I got up and crossed over to the door, opening it without looking and then finding myself face-to-face with the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen—so gorgeous that I was so busy looking at his eyes, I didn’t see what he was holding in front of him.

“Are you Brian James?”

“BJ. My friends call me BJ.” I still didn’t break eye contact. No man had any right to be this gorgeous.

“Hi, BJ. I’m Glenn. I’m from the moving company. I found your box, I think.”

That had me snapping my attention toward his arms.

“It is!” I jumped up and down, and he broke out into a smile. Somehow, that made him even more attractive.

“Thank you!” I went to grab it, but he shook his head.

“Nonsense. I’ll bring it in.”

I stepped out of his way to let him—realizing too late that all of my little things were on the floor directly where he was heading.

“No, I got it! I got it!”

Glenn stopped and turned toward me. “But aren’t you adorable? Your face all red.”

Of course it was red. He had just seen my secret. I didn’t share that with most people, and definitely not with strangers at anything other than kinky-type affairs.

“You can put it down. Thank you.” Gods, I sounded bossy, not grateful.

He did set it down, but then, instead of leaving, he walked toward me and said, really low, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with being little.”

I swallowed. “I know.” Because I did know. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. But still…

“I had a little once, too.”

My jaw dropped. This gorgeous specimen of a man was a daddy. How did I respond to that? It wasn’t like I could ask him to color with me? Could I?

“Thank you.” The words slipped out while I was attempting to find a better solution. Why thank you? I didn’t know. It wasn’t even close to an appropriate response.

He took a step toward the door, and I blurted out, “Oh—your little, did you leave them too?”

What was wrong with me? I was so rude and the question was completely irrelevant to anything that was happening in this space.

I had this weird rule in my head that if a daddy left their little, they would leave other littles, which—that was not how relationships worked.

But I had so many people leave me over the years that it was exactly where my brain went.

But even so, he was from the moving company.

It wasn’t like we were at Chained or a munch.

“No. She left me.” There was a sadness in his voice, the glint in his eyes going down slightly.

“Her loss.” I gave him the line everybody gave me every time I’d been hurt.

When my mom walked out on us. When my brother decided he didn’t want to be guardian anymore and I was left alone at sixteen to fend for my little brother. And then my little brother went off to college and never came back.

Their loss.

They could’ve had you as a brother, you as a son. And then, when it came to dating, They could have had you as a boyfriend.

It just came out of my mouth automatically, and I’d have done anything to suck it back in.

When he said, “She didn’t leave on purpose. She had a heart attack. And we were married, as well.”

I was an ass. I covered my face, mortified less at my little clothes and more at my big freaking mouth. “Can you pretend you’ve never met me?”

“You… No. I can’t do that.” His hand landed on my head. He ruffled my hair. It was affectionate and sweet and not at all holding the anger I’d have expected after my show of awfulness.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. How could you have? I only brought Sally up because I wanted you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not in front of anybody—but especially not in front of me. I understand why you have these things. And I don’t judge you for it. Do me a favor?”

I nodded, afraid I was going to say something wretched again without even trying.

“If anything’s broken in that box, let me know so I can replace it.”

I agreed, and after he asked me about my phone and if it was lost in the move, too, I watched as he walked out of my life as quickly as he entered it. At least I got my box back.