Chapter Four

Barrett

I’d been seeing my neighbor most mornings and some evenings since the package mishap. Every day, I asked him about the newest duck in his flock, loving the sparkle in his eyes as he described the little yellow things with their outfits and accessories. One of my friend Bridger’s most successful crochet patterns was a duckie, and he gave that duck some of the credit for their connecting after a munch. Hudson, his boy, always lit up when they told that story, and I always ached a little with happiness for them but a desire to have my own cute-meet to share in the future.

Collared had a great little room where I spent many evenings playing with littles but somehow none of them were the one for me. Not for a long-term relationship. Oh, they were adorable, no doubt, but I wanted someone very special. Someone to share my life with, both while they were big and little. It was a tall order, and one some of my friends had managed to fill, giving me some hope.

Having spent Thanksgiving weekend unpacking, the only bright spot had been the short encounters with Kent from next door.

I had helped him carry in his Christmas tree and got the tour of his holiday wonderland. Standing in his living room, surrounded by all the decorations strung and hung and fastened to every possible spot, my throat swelled, and I blinked back a mist of moisture from my eyes.

“You okay, Barrett?” Kent turned back from the gnome Christmas village he’d been telling me all about. Every one of the inhabitants had a name and a job and favorite things. He was enthusiastic but definitely big—at the moment. Did he have a little side?

“I’m fine. All your beautiful decorations remind me of my mom. She died a while back, but she was the Christmasiest person I ever met. Possibly until now.”

“That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received. This is my most favorite time of year, even when…” He trailed off, seeming lost for words, so I finished for him.

“Even when sometimes there are sad memories associated with it, too?”

He’d nodded, and we parted ways, me going back to continue unpacking and him to decorating his fresh, green tree. The moment we carried it in, the whole house smelled of pine, adding to the nostalgia for me.

Seeing him when we were both getting into our cars for work was my favorite part of the day. Well, that and if we arrived home at the same time. That happened less often, though. He always looked happy to see me, but never offered anything deeply personal, and so, neither did I. If he was a little, he’d have to let me know because I didn’t want to interfere with his privacy. After all, even if he did dress in onesies and knee socks and have his ducks parade down the village’s main street, it was not my right to know that, unless he chose to share it.

Those ducks would put on quite a show.

This morning, he was already in the driveway when I came out, standing by his car but not getting in. Was he waiting for me? Or was I overthinking things? “Morning, Kent.”

“Hi, Barrett. Cold morning, isn’t it?” He wore a light jacket and a woven hat pulled down over his ears. Every time I thought he couldn’t look cuter, he proved me wrong.

“Sure is. So, don’t keep me waiting. What is today’s duck?” They were all elves, but all different.

“Want to see?” He reached in his jacket pocket. “I brought them out to show you.” First time for that!

“Yes.” I crossed over to his side of the driveway, more excited to stand close to him than to see the duck, but both were good. “What important Santa’s helper did you unveil this morning?”

He sat the duck on the palm of his hand and held it up. “This is Mossy. He works on the roofs of the houses in the village to make sure there are no leaks that could slow down Christmas production.”

“A very important job.” The duck had a hammer tucked under his wing, part of the molded plastic but also pretty well designed. “Santa must really count on him.”

“You don’t think the ducks are silly?” His voice was hesitant. “A little…”

I waited to see if he’d finish, share with me that he was a little, but he just shrugged so I went on. “I don’t find roofers silly.” I winked at him and we both laughed then headed off to work.

That day, on the way home from work, I got a call from Bridger. “Hey, Barrett, guess who’s coming to Chained.”

“Santa Claus?”

“Well, yes, but so are we. Hudson and I. Want to meet us there?”

“Do I? I haven’t made it there yet, between getting unpacked and work.”

“I have to go out of town, to your old hangouts soon, and it made me realize I hadn’t seen you at the club in a while.”

“How long will you be there?

“Just a couple of days for a show. My patterns are doing really well, I’ll have you know. And I’m going to stop in at Collared for sure.”

That’s where we’d met. Some of his business contacts were there, and he always visited Collared. After the first couple of times, he’d let me know when he was coming so I could be sure to be there too.

“And why would I think differently.” I brought up the Chained app on my phone. “When did you want to go?”

He told me the dates, and I scanned the club calendar. “There’s a Christmas party that night.”

He spoke away from the phone for a moment and came back. “Hudson says that’s the idea. Are you in?

“For sure,” I told him. “Can’t wait to see both of you!”

I hung up, my spirits raised by the thought of seeing my friends and also going to Chained. My neighbor might or might not be a little, but I would see many people like me at the club, and maybe that was just what I needed.

The next morning, I saw Kent coming out of his house and met him to walk down the driveway to the cars. “Sleep well, neighbor?” I asked.

“Pretty good, yes. All sugar plums dancing in my head.” He grinned, zipping his jacket. “Colder again, today.”

“Sure is. I guess that’s how we know Christmas is coming.” I shifted my lunch bag to my other hand and fished my keys out of my pocket.

“That and the holly spilling out of my windows,” he replied, completely unrepentant about the Christmas wonderland. “Got any plans for the weekend?”

“I do.” And was very proud to be able to say so. “I’m going to a Christmas party at”—I stopped, wondering if I should tell him more. Then decided to go for it. “At Chained.”

Kent’s jaw dropped and he blushed then got in his car and backed out. I’d blown it. Or so I thought until he drove back in, stopped beside me, and ran the passenger window down halfway. “I’m going to be in the little room.” Without giving me a chance to reply, he drove away.

Invitation accepted.