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Done Adulting, Volume 1 (Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2)


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34 minutes ago, HyperShark said:

Okay, it is official. Ella is my favorite character. Looking forward to learning about her more in the coming chapters, especially her experiences with the dimension and Term.

 

Think this was my favorite chapter so far!

Seconding wanting to know more about Ella

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57 minutes ago, HyperShark said:

Okay, it is official. Ella is my favorite character. Looking forward to learning about her more in the coming chapters, especially her experiences with the dimension and Term.

 

Think this was my favorite chapter so far!

She’s already your favorite?

she hasn’t done anything yet!

9 hours ago, BabySofia said:

I like the fact that you're presenting the argument that there's some good that can come out of the situation here. Looking forward to you building a relationship between these two characters!

With Cheryl at some point she's going to either have to come over and be a little herself, or let Jamie go... I don't really see him desiring to go back to his original dimension when his contract time is up here. (If he contracted to go back... I don't remember if he said forever like he'd been thinking) Thank you for keeping up a crazy writing schedule to post every day! I keep looking forward to it in my evenings to relax!

At some point I’m gonna have to something in the evenings besides lay on my back writing. Like, use a muscle, work my lungs. Ya know, the kind of things that stave off premature death.

But this is so much more fun! Grrr.

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Probably won't be an update tomorrow. I have dinner plans tomorrow. ?/?

I did get to work out today and still have time to write. I feel lousy. Time away from the gym will do that to you. Yuck.

And before anyone says it, yes, it occurred to me that Amanda could wet the bed, and no, it won't happen. I don't want to turn this into that kind of story.

_______________________________________

 

Chapter 23

 

 

“How was your day?”

 

“What?!” Jamie could never hear either Becky or Amanda well from the backseat.

 

“HOW WAS YOUR DAY?”

 

Jamie wondered what the right response here was: to include the part about his mini-meltdown or not. He appreciated that what happened at daycare stayed at daycare, though he wondered just how far that maxim went. He figured it didn’t extend to laying hands on someone.

 

“Better.”

 

“Yeah?” That was the word Becky was hoping and not expecting to hear. “Tell me more!”

 

“Can we wait until we get home? I can’t hear you.” He considered what he had to say though, and thinking back on it he was feeling ashamed of himself. Whether he would have actually gotten physical with Jean, he wasn’t sure, but that he was on the cusp of losing control of himself he knew to be true. Ella had it right: a flood of negative emotions he didn’t understand and couldn’t control about to come out as one messy explosion. He hadn’t done that in many years.

 

Once they were, Jamie handed his mom the backpack he’d taken with him that morning. “It has some dirty clothes in it.” Jamie didn’t like handing her a chore to do. He was enough of one already, and though he was becoming more comfortable asking for and accepting things, he wished he could at least do certain chores, like his own laundry, himself. He had thought with a step ladder he could at least do the wash, only to see the machine was so wide he couldn’t reach the controls. “Sorry.”

 

“For what,” Becky smiled. “Laundry? Do you want a snack or something?” That hardly helped. Another chore for her to do for him.

 

“Maybe later.”

 

Becky tried to read his expression and all that came back was he was sad or disappointed or unhappy about something. Of course, that was his expression much of the time, particularly if he was alone.

 

“I’m going to go get the basket from upstairs and start a load.”

 

“Okay. Thank you.”

 

“Just one of my jobs, kiddo.”

 

Jamie actually was hungry as well as thirsty. He just didn’t want to ask. Jamie went into the kitchen on his own and evaluated his options. He could open the fridge, but unless he wanted condiments from the door or a giant radish from the crisper, he’d need to stand on something. The same was true for the cabinets. He’d need to stand on the counter, and to get there he’d to stand on something else. He wasn’t even sure what was in which cabinet. It hadn’t been an issue.

 

Jamie pushed his chair over to the counter, which still left him far short enough he need to pulled himself up with his elbows. He went to the cabinets he was pretty sure the kept cookies were in, and opening it he could only see what was on the first shelf. He could pull himself up to see, but he wasn’t sure if the cabinet would support his weight. Instead he reached up with his hand and felt around. Can. Can. Another can. Box. Box. Bag. More cans. Bingo: something that felt like a tray of cookies.

 

Jamie pulled it out of the cabinet and picked out his prize. A lot of work for a cookie, but worth the effort. He read the ingredient list on the package, and other than noticing how much sugar in them, he couldn’t decipher the chemicals in the list. He wasn’t what he was expecting. MDMA? Acid? Opium? Jamie was sure, though, that whatever it was that made these taste, and not just taste but feel, so good was exactly what Huey Lewis was singing about when he said he wanted a new drug. If I ever go back, Jamie thought, I could be a billionaire with this stuff.

 

Jamie at least knew the glasses were in the cabinet next to the sink, but in the cabinet on the other side of the sink. Fortunately it was a double sink, and he was able to step on the divider between the halves to get to the cabinet. His cups were on the lower shelf, and indeed, none of theirs were practical for him. Looking at the faucet, Jamie decided the best way to fill his cup was to cross back over and sit on the end to fill his cup. The cabinets was too close to the sink for him to bend over. With his cup of water, he went back to where this had all started.

 

He wished the chair was bigger. Climbing down is harder than climbing up, and now the chair seemed unstable. Considering the effort that went into a cookie and glass of water, it occurred to Jamie that asking for things wasn’t so bad. Frustrating though, not only have to ask but need to ask. Control over what he put in his body and when seemed elemental. Jamie put his cup down and turned around to climb down backward onto the chair so he could keep his hands on the counter. He then picked up his glass of water, and Becky picked up him. Sunuvabitch, Jamie said to himself, how the fuck are they so quiet?

 

“Teachable moment: what did you do wrong here?”

 

Now facing Becky, James decided to take a drink first. Becky took the glass from his hand and set it on the counter. “Well,” he began, “I guess climbing on the counter was a bad plan.” He couldn’t help but find it amusing. Not even a bad plan, really, more of a mediocre one.

 

“It’s not funny, James Patrick. You could have gotten very badly hurt. It’s high up, and counter tops can be slippery. Think about that.”

 

“You’re right,” Jamie said. He meant it; he hadn’t consider it might be wet up there. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I know you know I’m right because you already knew better than to climb on the counter because you’re very smart.” She gave him a kiss. “And I want you to remember to make good choices, especially when it come to you own safety. You wouldn’t just have hurt yourself but everyone who cares about you.”

 

She carried him into the living room. What she said had Jamie’s head spinning. Jamie hadn’t really gotten in trouble yet beyond a lecture, and he’d already gotten that. What was she going to do to him? She seemed bigger all of a sudden, and Jamie remembered one of his first conscious thoughts in Itali: you are not in control of this environment.

 

She reached a corner and set him on his feet. “This is your naughty spot; we haven’t had to use it until now. You’re in timeout until I come get you. Nose in the corner, buster.” Becky left the room.

 

 Jamie’s relief lasted about thirty seconds before he was just bored. If he had been asked 30 seconds ago whether timeout was an effective deterrent for an unregressed little, he’d have said of course not. Now all he saw was light grey paint, but it wasn’t even the lack of stimulation that was nagging at him now. It was the loss of autonomy, even beyond the amount he’d given up just by being here, it was the not knowing how long he’d be in the corner,  it was that he couldn’t leave that were making time stretch out impossibly far. Made to go somewhere and stay there. Boring and embarrassing. I should have protested, Jamie thought, at least said something for myself. Did I not because she’s right?

 

Jamie knew it wasn’t very safe to climb onto a surface seven feet off a tile floor and walk across what was a smooth, narrow and possibly wet surface. And he knew he could have hurt himself. That by hurting himself he would have hurt Becky hadn’t occurred to him. And now that he thought on it, if he had hurt himself, he’d have create even more work for Becky taking care of him, the very thing he was trying to avoid.

 

 

So what motivated me, Jamie questioned. She’s never said no when I asked for a snack, so I wasn’t trying to get away with something. Did I just really not want to ask for help? And what is so wrong with asking for help? Well, you start to feel useless after a while, and a burden. But they asked for a little specifically knowing it came with things like this. Still, he didn’t like the way asking felt. Dependent, and remembering his days in foster care, a very good way to piss off an adult and communicate weakness to any peer looking for someone to pick on.

 

The front door opened, and Jamie’s ears turned red. And I thought this was embarrassing before. I wonder what would happen if I just walked away? Nothing good.

 

Amanda saw him and didn’t greet him. She knew the timeout rules. She found her mom upstairs looking at her next day’s lesson plan.

 

“What did Jamie do?”

 

 

“Is he still in the corner? I caught him standing on the counter.”

 

“He’s still there. Didn’t turn around when I came in, but his ears blushed. Why would he get on the counter?”

 

“He probably thought he was doing me a favor by not asking me to get something for him.”

 

Amanda nodded. “Guess that’s sweet of him.”

 

Becky looked up. “You think I’m being too harsh?”

 

Amanda’s face expressed her approval as she said, “Oh, no. That was totally stupid of him, and he knows better.”

 

“Well, it’s been long enough. Guess it’s time to let him out. Gonna have a little chat with him; wanna come?”

 

 “Do you think that will undermine you?”

 

“No, I think it will show we’re a united front.”

 

Well, Amanda thought, at least on this.

 

They went to the living room, and Amanda and Becky sat on the couch. “Jamie, you can come out now.” Jamie sighed and turned around. He was feeling guilty and stupid and didn’t want to face either of them. “C’mere; let’s talk a little more.” Jamie dutifully walked over, and Becky picked him and put him in her lap so he could see both of them.

 

“Will you ever climb up on the counter again?” She sounded very sober.

 

“No. I know it’s unsafe.”

 

“So why did you,” she asked, her voice softening. “I’d just asked if you wanted a snack and you said no.”

 

Jamie blushed. Deliberately disobeying would have been more dignified. “I didn’t want to ask.”

 

“But I offered.”

 

“I know, but … I don’t like feeling like a burden.”

 

“Have I done something to make you feel that way?” She needed an honest answer. She certainly had never intentionally done that.

 

“No.”

 

“Why would you feel that way?”

 

“Because you’re always doing stuff for me. I feel … like I don’t contribute anything.”

 

“Oh, baby boy, you contribute exactly what you’re supposed to. I wanted you, not a someone to do the chores. Don’t you know that?”

 

“Well, yeah, but …”

 

“And you do contribute. Taking care of you gives me so much joy, just like holding you and talking to you bring me so much joy. Don’t you know that?”

 

“I just don’t like being a trouble.”

 

“You are never, ever a trouble.” Jamie didn’t respond. “What would be a trouble and would break my heart is if you ever got hurt. I couldn’t stand that, and neither could Amanda.” Amanda leaned in and smiled, just being a friendly presence to tell him what mom said was true.

 

The thought of Becky and Amanda sad because of him being hurt not only made Jamie feel guilty; it hurt to imagine them that way, over anything. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

 

“I know you are. And you had a little reminder timeout. And now it’s over. We love you no matter what, you have no reason to ever feel like a burden or a trouble to us. You are just the very opposite.” She pulled him into a hug which he didn’t fully return. He sat back down when she was done, and he still looked miserable.

 

“Jamie, is something else bothering you,” Amanda asked. She knew Jamie’s looks better than he did.

 

Jamie looked at his lap. He didn’t want to say it looking into her face; Becky’s either. “I … I almost threw a tantrum at daycare.”

 

What a pathetic face for an ‘almost,’ Amanda thought.

 

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Jamie recounted the story.

 

“I don’t even know why I got so upset, and angry. I just ... I got so … I don’t know. So fed up I guess.”

 

Becky interjected. “Wait, so you got upset, and you gave Jean a dirty look and were about to say something or maybe do something, and that’s when April stepped in?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

And you’re this upset with yourself over that, Becky wondered. “Honey, we all get angry sometimes, and sometimes we don’t even know why.”

 

“I don’t. At least, not very often … Mom, I was about to lose control.”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“But I might have.”

 

“But you didn’t. That’s a success to me. And when you did get upset, you handled it in a very positive way. If Jean hadn’t gotten in your way, it wouldn’t even have been a thing, right?”

 

“Still,” Jamie moaned in shame, “I don’t want to be that person.”

 

That was more than Becky could objectively take. “Oh, my Jamie,” she said, bringing him to her shoulder, “One bad mood doesn’t make you that person. You are such a sweet and kind boy.” Jamie wasn’t so sure. The line between the thought of a bad deed and the act of a bad deed was blurry in his mind; to Jamie, the former was in itself a bad deed, even if a lesser one.

 

When it was clear Jamie didn’t have anything to say, she just rubbed his back. “Tell you what, how about we go out to dinner tonight. A little treat. After we go change your pants.”

 

At dinner, Amanda was able to pry out of Jamie the good parts of his day. They, too, wondered why Diane hadn’t mentioned having another unregressed little in her care and why only one big talked to her without her speaking to them first. Jamie wanted to try to answer both of those questions tomorrow.

 

Amanda got Jamie ready for bed that evening. She didn’t feel she had done much to help today, taking a backseat to her mom. That was appropriate, but she still wanted to make sure Jamie understood everything Becky had said Amanda felt also. She laid him down, and Jamie wrapped his arm around his bear for a pillow. Amanda sat on the edge of the cribbed and ran her fingers up and down his back. It felt just as good as the first time she’d done it not long after he’d arrived, and when Becky had done it too. He shuddered each time her, soft, light fingers kissed the small of his back.

 

“Long day, huh, buddy?” He just sighed. “Are you feeling okay about everything?” He didn’t say. Amanda stopped rubbing his back, and got down so her face was on level with his, though he was looking the other way. “You can tell me anything, always, Jamie. In fact,” she said lightly, “I’m gonna have to insist you do, and you can’t fool me into thinking everything’s okay. You’ve actually gotten terrible at that since you got here.”

 

Jamie didn’t turn over. It wasn’t the memory of the afternoon, but the memories the afternoon had stirred that were bothering him now that the day was over and there was nothing but the dusk-darkened light of his bedroom to distract his attention. He took a deep breath and let it out. “When … when Mom carried me into the living, to put me in timeout, she ... it scared me.” Jamie choked on a memory.

 

This wasn’t just upsetting for Amanda to hear. It was alarming. She recognized it for the very big deal it was. The kind of big deal that had to be dealt with right then. She scooped him up onto her shoulder, grabbing his bear when he let it go.

 

Jamie didn’t physically resist, but he protested. “No … Manda, I don’t want her to know. Please?”

 

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to.” She carried Jamie up to Mom’s bedroom. She was on her bed with a book now, her lesson plans set aside.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Amanda whispered. Jamie was silently crying on her shoulder. She sat down on the bed next to Mom. ‘Jamie just told me something …”

 

“Manda, I don’t want to,” he whined, his breath catching now.

 

“It’s okay,” she cooed. “Jamie told me that today, when you were carrying him to the living room to put him in timeout, that you scared him.” Jamie couldn’t hold it back. He broke down one sob at a time, silent and with big tears.

 

Becky hid the horrified look on her face and did her best to look merely deeply upset and concerned. She held out her arms, as Amanda expected her to, and she took him. He rested his head over her shoulder, and she rested her cheek on him, holding him tight but not too tight. Becky thought back on the afternoon. She hadn’t raised her voice or moved quickly or done anything alarming, but she felt like a monster anyway. Or at least an inconsiderate big who didn’t think how her size and words could frighten a little so. The thought that he was afraid of her, even for a second, and that she had caused it, made her sick to her stomach.

 

“Jamie,” she said through her own tears while Amanda now rubbed her back, “I will never, ever, ever hit you. Do you hear me? I will never do that to you ever.” She spoked slowly and deliberately, and it wasn’t clear whether he heard. “We don’t do that in our house. There’s nothing you could ever do to make me or Amanda ever raise a hand to you. I promise on my life, Jamie. Do you understand?”

 

Jamie replied with a yes muffled by tears and Becky’s t-shirt. Becky moved on to apologizing for making him feel that way, saying sorry in every way she knew how. She gently rocked him and herself as well. What an awful feeling, making someone afraid, and how very much worse that it was someone she loved so very much.

 

Becky readjusted Jamie and then reclined back, rubbing his back even though they’d both stopped crying. Amanda, too, was upset to think on how Jamie felt and to imagine how her mom must’ve felt and watching a tender and gut wrenching scene. She left and returned with a wet washcloth, which Becky used to clean Jamie’s face and let him blow his nose before she used the other side to wipe her own dried tears away. Amanda got up to leave them.

 

“Why not stay with us, Manda?” Her mom had never called her by Jamie’s nickname for her. She laid down next to her mom, put her cheek on her mom’s breast, and her arm over Jamie. You don’t outgrow how it feels to snuggle with your mom, Amanda thought, you just stop doing it and make yourself forget it until it’s too late to start again. Another gift from Jamie, bringing  physical affection and comfort in the house. She hated to ever think of not having that with her mom or with Jamie ever again.

 

Jamie’s breathing slowed until it was obvious he was asleep. Amanda said quietly, “You did a good job today, Mom.” To hear that soft praise from Amanda forced Becky to stop herself from getting emotional again, even if she couldn’t stop her watery eyes from spilling a few more tears. “We’re seeing the Therapist in two days, right?”

 

“Yes. Double session for his first time. You can miss class this early in the semester?”

 

“For this? I told the professor I was dealing with a sad little, and he practically told me to come back whenever to pick up my A+. But like I wouldn’t go anyway.”

 

Becky ran her hands through her daughter’s long hair. I missed this so much, she thought. Littles really bring love with them, and they rekindle a lot that was forgotten, just like everyone says.

 

 

“I’ll put him back to bed,” Amanda whispered as she started to ease herself off the bed.

 

“No,” Mom said, “He’s fine where he is tonight.” She smiled down at him; she meant every word she said to him. She realized then that she never would or could say anything to him but the truth. “You bring me so much joy,” she said, kissing the top of his sleeping head still resting just below her chin. Even in the hard moments. How good just holding him felt, this sleepy little boy, how soothing to her heart.

 

Amanda got to her feet, and her mom reached out to take her hand. “You, too, baby girl.” She paused a moment and took a chance. “You can stay with us tonight, if you want.”

 

Amanda smiled soft and slow. “I’ll go change into my PJs. Do you need anything?”

 

“Just a glass of water. And could you bring his bottle back up, too?”

 

“Be right back.”

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9 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww :)

 

Seconded the awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

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I deal with this kind of selfloathing all the time...

I'm so glad Jaime has these people...

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Another wonderful chapter! I got really anxious as Jamie climbed up onto the worktop: amazing that you can get so much drama out of so little actually happening!

Amazing, too, that you can conjure up such thoughtful and caring Big characters. I hope that people like that come into your life too, Alex, if that’s not been the case so far.

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1 hour ago, Bluebird67 said:

Another wonderful chapter! I got really anxious as Jamie climbed up onto the worktop: amazing that you can get so much drama out of so little actually happening!

Amazing, too, that you can conjure up such thoughtful and caring Big characters. I hope that people like that come into your life too, Alex, if that’s not been the case so far.

That’s very sweet of you. I do have some people like this, but we can always find a place for more.

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Short chapter!

_____________________________

Chapter 24

 

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey back. How was your night,” Ella asked. She was sitting in the art corner with a sketch book and pencil.

 

“I learned my middle name is Patrick.”

 

“Uh oh. Wuddya do?”

 

“What makes you think I did something?”

 

“Either you were looking at your arrival certificate, or you got called by your full name, and that only happens when you’re in trouble.”

 

“I climbed onto the kitchen counter.”

 

“That was dumb.”

 

“I know. Already got that lecture. What are you drawing?” She turned the book to show him. “Wow. That’s really good. You’re doing that from memory?”

 

“Yep. I went there when I was in college during a semester abroad. I studied art.”

 

“It’s really good.”

 

“Lots of practice. I draw this a lot. I can draw you if you like.” She turned to a fresh page and started sketching. “Hold real still.”

 

“Uh, okay.” Jamie suddenly felt very self-conscious, and he wasn’t sure if she was flirting with him. He was never sure about that.

 

“Done.” She tore out the page.

 

“Already? That’s incredible.” Jamie took the page from her and grimaced, handing her back the drawing of a stick figure falling off a kitchen counter. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

 

Ella did get a good laugh out of it. “So why’d you climb up there anyway?”

 

“To get a snack.”

 

“And you weren’t allowed a snack?”

 

“No, I just didn’t want to ask for one. Ya know, it gets old being a constant burden.”

 

“That’s what they signed up for when they adopted a little. It’s also what you signed up for when you put yourself up for adoption. Does your mom ever make you feel that way?”

 

“No. I’m just not used to asking for things.”

 

“I get that. It takes getting used to, needing permission.”

 

“Not just permission. I mean, just having to ask. Makes me feel like all I do is take.”

 

“You ever have something you loved? Pet, sibling, kid?”

 

He’d never had a pet or sibling. If he counted his clients, he’d had a hundreds of kids. “Kids, in a manner of speaking.”

 

“When they needed something, did it feel like they were taking?”

 

Jamie frowned. Of course it didn’t. “No.” He felt compelled to explain more. “I grew up in foster care. Most of the homes I went through, you didn’t ask for things. Bad luck, ‘cause most foster parents are just wonderful people, else they wouldn’t become foster parents. I just got a few bad ones. Asking was seen as not being happy with what you were given. That wasn’t … well received.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I know I’m not a foster kid, but this is still so new. Still feel like I’m a guest … Does that go away?”

 

“Doesn’t sound your mom thinks of you that way. It’ll go away when you decide to stop feeling like a guest.”

 

Fair enough, Jamie thought. He knew Mom and Manda didn’t think of him like a guest, and he knew he wasn’t a guest, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It was always there, making him always a little bit uncomfortable.

 

“So what was your punishment?”

 

Jamie blushed. The two of them were getting to know one another awfully fast. Friendship grows fast in extreme circumstances, and being in a different dimension living in this way among these people certainly counted as that.

 

“Timeout.”

 

“Hard to get used to at first, isn’t it?”

 

“Timeout? That was my first.”

 

“No, I mean the reality that you can be punished again. Being accountable to someone in that way again, subject to their authority. No jury, no appeals court.” Ella scoffed. “Parenthood is the one true dictatorship, especially for littles.”

 

The last part of the statement sounded a bit dramatic, but Jamie understood what she meant, and he agreed wholeheartedly with the first part of what she’d said. “Definitely. For a moment, I thought ...” He sighed and stopped talking.

 

“That she was going to spank you? Does she hit you, or would she, do ya think?” Ella had a definite opinion on corporal punishment: it was hitting, no matter word people used. And she had a definite response to people who would insist a spanking is not hitting: fuck you.

 

At the very word “spank,” a number of littles ears turned up, and several little looked uncomfortable to hear it. James was. “Yes. And no, I don’t think she’d ever do that. And then she told me so last night. It’s just … in the moment … it just brought up bad memories is all.”

 

So someone, or more than one someone, hit him as a kid, she thought. Fucking sonsabitches. She figured he didn’t want to talk about that, so instead she turned to the bright side. “Good that you know that now. at least, that she never would. What did she say when you asked?”

 

“I didn’t ask. I just said that I got … afraid when she picked me up and told me she wanted me to remember not to do it again. I told Amanda, and then when Manda told her, Mom cried.”

 

“Then she must really love you.”

 

“Yeah, she does,” Jamie said without a smile. Just a fact, and fact that wasn’t new but was still fresh, still a puzzle to him. She just loved him. From the start and even more now. What did I do to deserve instant love, Jamie wondered. Don’t suppose you know why, Jamie wanted to ask.

 

Instead, Jamie decided to ask, “So how come Diane didn’t tell my mom another unregressed little came her? My mom was real concerned about that.”

 

“Privacy.”

 

“Just saying there’s an unregressed little doesn’t violate privacy, does it?”

 

“In San Siena it does. I’m not even sure there are a dozen of us here.”

 

That still didn’t make much sense. “So what if someone knew an unregressed little came here? We have to hide or something?”

 

“’We?’ No, we don’t have to hide. How ‘bout I draw your picture for real now?”

 

Jamie knew when a conversation was being purposefully but politely ended. He didn’t try to get an answer to the obvious follow up question.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

After taking another couple days to think over her letter, Cheryl decided she couldn’t be so serious, not in this letter. She feared causing Jamie any kind of negative emotion that would take his mind out of his new reality, which she knew well would likely set back his adjustment to Itali. She knew how hard it was, and screwing it up for her own reasons was just wrong.

 

Dearest Jamie,

 

I’ve tried to think of all the reasons you haven’t written me in so long, and the reason I want to accept as the truth is every moment brings you so much happiness your hand cannot hold a pen. I want to believe that. We’re so far apart. I want to believe so many things, at least as many as I fear.

 

 

 

I did receive the report from Marsha’s home visit, and what relief it was to see happy news to hear she found you are safe and loved and loving in turn. I needed to know that. Becky and Amanda seem to understand you, or at least be coming to it, no easy feat as I know; every day I still think on you. I don’t think you realize the light of soft joy you bring to those you let in. It’s not the ecstatic kind, which never lasts, but deeper a hue of fulfillment in having gained the trust of someone worth counting as a friend, and more.

 

 

 

I’ve kept my promise. I take the names from where I keep them and read them. It’s like a prayer, I suppose. I’m not sure who I’m praying for when I read those names. Them; you; me; this whole world and its broken heart. I say your name, too.

 

 

 

Are you using my gifts? Have you given your bear a name yet? A token of my love affection for you; it doesn’t seem much now, but I hope it gives you some comfort happiness and reminds you of me.

 

 

 

I know it is not over, the time of change in your life when you are trying so hard to come to terms with a new world and yourself in it, nor is it likely to end for some time more. I’m loathe to interrupt what progress you’ve made and how I may set it back seeing you or even writing this letter. But much longer without you, and name me for a liar, Jamie, and know me for one, too. So I am keeping my other promise, too, and planning to visit as soon as I can. I know not when yet I don’t know when exactly, but within the year. I’m sure you understand given how long a journey it is, but that only gives us more time to anticipate and plan.

 

 

 

Do you have a soft word for me? Give me leave to hope for that at least.

 

 

 

I can’t wait to hear from you again. I want to know about your latest adventures and the people you’ve met.

 

 

 

Your forever friend,

 

Cheryl

 

 

Once she had edited her letter, she rewrote a clean draft and sent it. She knew it would be weeks before her letter even arrived, and she’d just have to wait to hear from Jamie. But hopefully not much longer than the time it took for a letter to get there and a response to come back. She wondered for real, why hadn’t he written. She prayed it was for a good reason.

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I'm glad Jamie has a good bff , real bff know you well like Ella even though she's known him a short time she real sweet . Thanks for the short chapter I think little Alex had something on his mind he had to put to paper ?. Goodnight Author Alex 

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47 minutes ago, Shawnie said:

I'm glad Jamie has a good bff , real bff know you well like Ella even though she's known him a short time she real sweet . Thanks for the short chapter I think little Alex had something on his mind he had to put to paper ?. Goodnight Author Alex 

A number of things I’d like to get out of my head are ending up here, which I didn’t intend when I began. Just ... a place for that, too, I guess. I hope it doesn’t detract from the story.

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I don't why I but I find myself instantly connecting to Ella. I'm wondering if it's because like me she came to the lifestyle at least in part because of a disability or some kind of trauma? 

@Author_Alex

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3 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

Portrait of jamie climbing and being bad made me smiles :)

Jamie wasn’t being bad. He just made a bad choice. ?

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Another short update, but i think this chapter might be pretty long when it's done.

________________________________________________

Chapter 25 Part 1

 

 

It was lunchtime. Jamie knew Mom and Amanda would be picking him up soon for his first therapist appointment. He was having mixed feelings about it. To start with, they hadn’t asked him if he wanted to see a therapist. It was just announced. Jamie knew why they would have him see a therapist, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

 

He’d seen on a couple of times before. One in college for a while, another during his career. He couldn’t remember the first one’s name – that’s how much she helped. The second one was the classic shrink. He’d say something, and she’d node and say “yeah” and “uh huh” and otherwise stay silent until he felt awkward enough to say something else. Jamie understood the technique, but it wasn’t the kind of therapy he thought he’d signed up for. If all Jamie needed was a friendly ear, he could have talked to the neighbor’s dog or a sympathetic wall. She wouldn’t say anything until the session was five minutes from over, and then he’d leave feeling nothing had been resolved, let alone discussed.

 

Moreover, Jamie didn’t know if he wanted to talk about things. Talking about them helps, sure, but sometimes not talking about things helps, too. Between daycare and everything else he was still adjusting to, why bring up the past, which is what he assumed they thought he needed therapy for.

 

He saw no reason not to talk to Ella about his feelings. “So I’m leaving early today to go see a therapist.”

 

“I’m leaving early to see my physical therapist.”

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re okay.”

 

“Fine. Just healing from something. Did you notice something that looked not okay?”

 

“No … well, I noticed you get tired easily, physically … like when we walked around the field and you needed to stop … just wanted to know if you’re okay … sorry, I’ll stop talking about it.” Jamie cursed his social skills. There were times when a part of his brain would tell, “Don’t say that,” and the other part would respond, “Saying it anyway, Asshole” and ride away on a motorcycle purposefully throwing mud all over the first part.

 

Ella responded by taking another bite of her lunch. Jamie was sure he’d screwed up the only promising regular friendship he had. He was good at a lot of things, but making friends and knowing when to shut up weren’t them. In a professional setting, he was Mr. Discretion. In social settings, he was Mr. Awkward. He sometimes wondered if he did have some degree of Autism Spectrum Disorder. That was the trendy thing to say or joke about, but he didn’t find it funny. He worked with too many kids who did have ASD. It was just that sometimes he would be so inept in unstructured social interactions that he felt it had to be more than being an introvert or just awkward. He sat there glumly wishing he could turn the clock back 5 minutes.

 

Ella stirred her lunch with her spork. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Jamie head her fine and wasn’t sure if she was being coy or what her intent was.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Tell me why you’re going to see a therapist, and I’ll tell you why I go to PT.”

 

Those two things are completely different, Jamie thought. Revealing your emotional or mental health problems wasn’t the same as physical condition. “That’s hardly the same,” he replied.

 

“Why aren’t they?” Ella knew what he was going to say.

 

“Because my … mental health issues are … they’re more sensitive than a … physical problem.”

 

“Is a mental health problem a real health problem?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So either you’re attaching a stigma to mental health, or think I am, or you just don’t wanna say. And if you don’t wanna say, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk about.”

 

Jamie didn’t want to talk about it. What he wanted to talk about was Ella and why it was important that no one knew there was an unregressed little at Little Hearth, specifically her. Jamie knew Mom had asked Diane if she had experience with unregressed little, and Diane had responded with just a yes when she must have known telling Rebecca there was another unregressed little in her care would likely have secured Rebecca’s business on the spot. Maybe being a little more open would make Ella a little more open.

 

“I used to be a social worker. I got to the point where I couldn’t stand to deal with everything I had to deal with and be unable to fix it all, and I didn’t think I could stay back there and just walk away from it. So I came here. I think Mom wants me to talk about all that with a therapist.”

 

Ella turned away from Jamie and pulled her back, revealing a scar running down her neck and into her dress. She let her hair fall and turned back. “I had surgery.”

 

“That scar looks old.”

 

“It is.”

 

“But you still go to therapy for it?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Becky and Amanda came through the classroom door. Jamie found himself torn. He wanted to leave daycare; he didn’t want to go to see a therapist; he wanted to keep talking to Ella. All incompatible with one another.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Amanda said when she got near. “You ready to go?”

 

“Yes,” Jamie replied, pushing his lunch away. It wasn’t very good anyway. “This is Ella, by the way. Ella, this is my sister Amanda and my mom, Becky.” Polite handshakes were exchanged.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Nice to meet you, Jamie. You can call me Mary.”

 

“Nice to meet you as well, Mary.”

 

“If it’s alright with you, Amanda and your mom are going to wait in the outer room while we talk alone.”

 

“That’s fine.”

 

“See you soon, Jamie,” Becky said with a small wave as Mary closed the door behind them.

 

Mary turned on a floor fan and pointed it at the door. “Sorry. Just helps makes sure everything we say in here stays in here. Please, have a seat.” Jamie sat down on a regular sofa, one meant to fit littles. It wasn’t a psychiatrist’s couch either, just a regular sofa with a regular coffee table in from of it.

 

Mary sat down in a chair next to the sofa. It was awkward her being so close and looming over him so much, but Jamie liked being on furniture his eye, not up on something he’d have to scramble up or get her help with. Still, he was craning his neck to look at her. It would be easier not to.

 

“Do you mind if I lay down. It’s just hard to talk to you from down here.”

 

“No, go right ahead. Most of my patients do.” Jamie got situated. “Comfortable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, introductions then. My name is Dr. Mary Easterbrook. I specialize in littles only. I don’t see bigs or big children. You should know up front two things. One, I will never tell anyone exactly what you say in here. Two, I will tell your mom and Amanda what we talk about in here, and only them.”

 

“Why them? Isn’t there some sort of privilege?”

 

“No, just like if you were a big kid, I can tell your mom anything I think she needs to know in order to help the two of us in the therapeutic process, and your mom wants Amanda to know, too. If there’s something specifically you don’t want me to tell them, I’ll do my best to abide by that, but I can’t promise. And I won’t tell them anything I don’t think they need to know.”

 

Jamie was trying to keep an open mind. So far this just reminded him of his place in the power structure, specifically at the bottom of it. He understood why she would tell parents and guardians what their little said, but it required him to accept that he was a little and he had no privacy this doctor needed to respect. Therapy works when the patient is open and honest, and already Jamie felt he had to hold back.

 

“How do I know what you think they need to know? I don’t mean to get us off on the wrong foot here, but I mean, why should I be open if I get nor privacy? What if I want to talk about them, for instance?”

 

Mary had worked with a few unregressed littles, and this was always the conversation at first. “I won’t tell them any details unless they absolutely need to know. Otherwise, I’ll keep it vague. As for why you should be open, because it will help you. Do you believe that?”

 

 

Jamie did, though he also realized the potential for some conflict between his therapeutic interests and his I-have-to-live-with-these-people interests. “I believe that.” To an extent, he wanted to add.

 

“Good. So you know, I do have experience with unregressed littles. There aren’t many of you, and I’m one of the only therapists in Itali who works with them. And I say that just to let I understand your cognitive level.  So, I have your file from the agency and notes from what your mom and Amanda told me. Why don’t we start by you telling me about what your time here has been like so far?”

 

Geez, Jamie thought, that’s so much to review. “That’s …” Jamie wasn’t even sure where to start.

 

“How about starting with easy stuff? What makes you happy here?”

 

“Amanda, Mom … Amanda’s friend Mel … Mom’s friend Jane … April, my daycare teacher, she’s nice to me … most little food … not having to go to work, but that’s a mixed blessing … I like feeling younger physically … I exercise a lot here.”

 

When he didn’t add anything after ten seconds, Mary asked, “What don’t you like here?”

 

“When people treat me like a regressed little, you know, like when they think I’m dumb – sorry, not dumb – cognitively underdeveloped, I guess, or incompetent. Not having many people to talk to, getting bored at daycare, getting bored in general sometimes … feeling like I don’t contribute … having to ask for things, you know, bothering people for little stuff … not fitting, but I knew that was going to be a problem … missing my friend, Cheryl.”

 

After another pause, “And what are maybe not sure if you like or dislike?”

 

“Ella, this girl at daycare. I like that she’s there and is also unregressed, but she’s really hard to figure out, too. That sometimes I like being treated like a typical little … I mean, I like when Mom or Amanda feed me a bottle, and sometimes when I use my pacifier; I just don’t like that I like those things, sometimes, I think. And I guess, just being here. I’m not sure if I like it here or not, to be honest. I like my people, and I like not having to deal with a lot of stuff I had to deal with back there, but at the same time I miss certain things … and feel that I walked away from things I shouldn’t have.

 

Mary gave it a few beats. “That gives us an awful lot to talk about.”

 

Jamie laughed for the first time all day. “Ya think?”

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