Page 45 of Little Fangs

It was a family I’d chosen, and been chosen by, instead of forced into, and for the first time in my life, I was making my own decisions. I wasn’t running scared, and I had big boy fangs. I had the gift of forever, and I wanted to share it with Harlan.

The days become colder, the ground harder, and even the breeze had begun howling around the cabin, giving Misty a blowout of a hairdo whenever she came in from being outside.

“It’s time,” Daddy said, walking in with an armful of logs.

I was cuddled up and cozy, sitting on the sofa with a quiz show on the TV, and with confidence, I was answering them all mostly wrong. It was fun, but the moment Daddy came in with those words, I stopped smiling. “Time for what?”

“Time to finish unpacking these boxes and—clearing out the spare room,” he said, placing the logs in the metal cradle by the fire. “I’ve been trying to pick the right time, and I think it’s now.”

“Now?” I asked, standing up. “But you don’t have to go through all your old stuff if you don’t want.”

Harlan dusted himself off then pulled me in. “If I can’t sort out all my old memories from these boxes, then I won’t have anywhere to put the new memories with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, and you’re really going to help.” He kissed his cold outside lips on my forehead. “Plus, we’ve got to do something about those teddies. I think they’re multiplying.”

I giggled. I had been buying more of them from the stores in town. I didn’t think he’d even noticed, but he had, and it made me giggle.

“We can’t have a fifty-teddy tea party,” he said. “Not until we get the room cleaned up. Are you up for it?”

What he was really saying was how much space he was making for me—a lot of space, an entire room. I didn’t want to push him to let go of all the things he’d had in here from his previous relationship, but it was a welcome change, a welcome restart, a step in the direction of us.

“I love you,” I said, placing both hands on his face and giving his beard a scratch.

He kissed me, pushing through my hold. “I love you much more.”

I giggled. “I don’t think I could live without you,” I said.

“Not true, but I love giving myself to you,” he said. “And you’re getting really good with those fangs now.”

Misty interrupted the moment, as if reminding us she was there and wanted to help, but her idea of helping was usually getting in the way and finding a spot to sleep in—usually like a supervisor, her eyes just open enough to watch, and protect us.

The spare room in Harlan’s cabin had been intended as a home office for his ex-partner when they were together and building the place. It was why I’d tried to stay out of it, and the boxes. I was curious about what was in them, but I refrained, knowing it was a one-way street to getting into trouble.

I was still in my onesie, and Harlan was now in sweatpants and a tank top tucked into the waistband, showing off his physique—a distraction if I’d ever seen one.

“There are gonna be a lot of photos,” he warned.

We were standing in the room with the ceiling light on, looking at the stacked cardboard boxes.

“Is this—his?”

“No, no, he took his shit. This is mine, and what we had together,” he said. “There might be photos, so you can just throw them. Unless they’re just of me.”

I nodded, taking the instruction serious. “Naughty ones?”

“Potentially,” he said, winking at me. “You can save them.”

We sorted the boxes out, some blankets, some photos . . . others were awards he’d won for conservation. And clothes, so much. I lost count of the number of plaid shirts I pulled out, scrunched into balls at the bottom of boxes. Half were too small, and perfect for me. I was still trying to figure out my style, and the plaid was always so fun and colorful. Plus, who didn’t want to have a piece of their Daddy on.

It was in some ways like one of the jigsaws we’d been doing together, unpacking, repacking, and cleaning the space until it was bare. It was a box room, perfect for what it was intended as, an office, but neither of us needed one of those, and Daddy had already told me he wanted me to have space to play.

It was around midnight when we were finished.

In the middle of the room, we laid a blanket. I prepared all my teddies, and Daddy prepared the food. He came back with tiny sandwiches and tea. It was the perfect space for this. All that needed changing was the color of the walls. Rainbows, unicorns, sparkles, and sprinkles—they needed to look the part.

We sat there opposite each other, our legs crossed with teddies in both of our laps. I nibbled on one sandwich before sucking on a blood bag. Daddy devoured loads of food, and his belly still rumbled.