Page 11 of A Little Christmas: Rivi
Uncle Trent was a daddy. Now things started to make more sense to me. Mama called his behavior over the years eccentric. But really he had another life. And it wasn’t the sort of life you just blurted to the world.
“I want to meet him.” I couldn’t keep the excitement from my voice.
“You will. His name is Ozzy. He’s shy like you, but I think you two will get along. Now. Let’s sort out the details.”
He was patient, not rushed. For a busy man, Uncle Trent always took his time with me. He offered to let me stay for ten days, all the way through New Year’s.
I could possibly get the holidays off work and not be fired. It was a busy time, but my job was not as important as other staff like slot technicians, security and bartenders. It was easy for the casino to hire temps to fill in, too. Fingers crossed.
We decided I could come on the 22ndand stay until New Year’s. Uncle Trent told me already had a room in mind for me.
Now, all I had left to do was decide how to tell Mama. Neither of us wanted me to lie to her, but also, she would not fit in. I suggested I should tell her it would be a lot of gay people. I was sure she’d understand.
Uncle Trent agreed.
By the time I hung up, I was nearly giddy. I threw back my head and lifted my legs into the air, wiggling them like a kid. I was so happy I’d picked today to shop, or I would never have known about the party.
This year, Christmas was going to be so great. Maybe I’d even get lucky.
Time to write a letter to Santa and put “daddy” at the top of the wish list.
6
Briar
Ihadn't worn my traditional leathers in over a year. They still fit just fine, thanks to a job which required me to keep up scheduled workouts. I tried them on twice, turning and turning in front of the mirror to make sure everything was in order. Then I picked out a couple of nice suits and tried them on as well. I had not gone anywhere for ten days straight in years. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I left my little apartment for that long. I just wasn't the traveling type.
By the time I was finished figuring out everything to pack, hours had passed. When did that get to be such hard work? I was sweaty and cranky and second-thinking my decision to attend ten days’ worth of festivities.
Everything I put on, including the leather, made me look big and intrusive. Not that I wasn't. But it meant certain things to certain people. Over the years I'd learned that my form attracted a type. I didn't mind that they were gruffer men, more like me, even the littles who wanted rougher treatment and overlookedthe more caring aspects of my personality. People took one look at me and no doubt thought sweet was out and aggressive welcome. They weren't wrong. At least on the surface. Or regarding one-night stands.
But sweet was what I had been dreaming of lately. My fantasies had changed over the past five years. I was ready for something new and fresh. And yes, sweet. I had considered that maybe the BDSM community wasn't the best place to find that sort of fantasy. But where else could a daddy like me find the little he had been looking for his whole life?
That night it snowed. I barely slept thinking of the long drive on icy roads in the countryside. It felt like a red flag, and I seriously considered canceling as I loaded the car with my two suitcases, computer, and the biggest box of specialty chocolates ever seen in North America.
I looked back at the bleak building where my apartment was. I was having second thoughts again. It might be fun to become a cozy couch potato subsisting on take-out for the holidays with no one to bother me.
In the overcast morning light, everything was monotones of brown and gray. It wasn't an awful place, just so ordinary. The windows were dark, the edges lightly snow dusted. I didn't really have friends in the building and the neighbors I did know were all leaving for the holidays. It all looked painfully cold. I really needed this change, and I forced myself to get in the driver's seat and go.
I made it quickly through a drive through and, with hot coffee and a breakfast sandwich in hand, I made the commitment. The streets were plowed, the highway open. I was on my way to Trent’s.
With only onemore stop for gas and a burger, I made good time, pulling into the Winterbourne estate at just past three in the afternoon. It had snowed much heavier up here in the mountains. Piles of fresh white powder lined the sides of the road up to the gate which opened for me as soon as I gave my name through the intercom. Twinkle lights framed the Winterbourne name on top of the archway. The driveway was completely clear as I headed over wet pavement toward the front of the massive mansion.
As I drove toward the front of the huge house, I passed pines strung with lights. The house itself was lit up in a simple frame-design of multi-colored lights from the top story all the way down to the front porch. There, I was met by a valet. Trent didn't miss a thing. He treated his guests as if they were staying at a five-star hotel. The valet promised my car would be parked in a guest garage, safe and out of any inclement weather.
When I’d visited years ago, I didn’t remember getting this sort of treatment.
The valet helped me unload my luggage, and through a headset exactly like the one I used at the club, informed staff of my arrival. Another man wearing a formal black suit appeared and took both my suitcases up a ramp and through the front door. Holding only the giant box of chocolates, I hurried to follow so I wouldn't be left behind. This place worked just like the club. A well-oiled machine.
As I stepped into the foyer I was hit with a blast of warmth making my cheeks immediately heat up. All I could do was drop my jaw and look and stare, head back. I made a complete turn, amazed at the tall ceilings and wall carvings and my view ofa vast front room filled with comfy furniture. There was a fire roaring in a hearth as tall as I was.
“Your room is this way. Follow me.” The man led me through two living rooms, past one staircase to another staircase overlooking an atrium. The glass walls of the atrium revealed a huge indoor swimming pool with jacuzzi.
“Is Trent here yet?” I asked.
“He is. He has been informed of your arrival.”
Distantly, I heard singing and kitchen sounds. An aroma filled the air. Savory. Inviting. But I didn't see anyone. I wondered if I might be the first guest.
