Of course, Henry giggled when I said hard, and I rolled my eyes. It was intriguing how easily he switched between adult Henry and Little Henry. Henry had such a wide range of emotions, and he wasn’t afraid to show them around me. The frightened Little I met at the Rainbow Room was mostly gone. We had happy, playful, emotional, and horny Henry, and I loved all of him. But right now, there was something more important to discuss. “Do you understand why I said I would sleep on the sofa?”
This time, Henry rolled his eyes before he let go of me and signed, “Yes, because you’re a meanie.”
“No, Cupcake. I’m not a meanie. But when we have sex, it will be beautiful and special. Just like I want this playdate to be special.”
“So, I can have two special moments?”
“Yes, Baby. I want you to have tons of special moments. Preferably with me.”
“Only with you, Daddy.”
My heart melted with his statement, and I knew that I was head over heels for Henry. “Only us, Cupcake.” I kissed his nose and stroked his cheek before I looked at him again. “Now, finish your milk so you can go to sleep in Daddy's arms.”
“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to miss a single moment with you.”
“I’ll be here for the whole weekend.”
“I still don’t want to sleep.” Despite his words, he yawned around his bottle, and I chuckled.
“Then, let me just hold you and enjoy your Daddy time.”
Henry smiled and cuddled into me once more. I switched off the TV and settled on the pillows, Henry following my every movement until he lay comfortably on top of me. From time to time, he looked up at me. By the time his bottle was empty, Henry was fast asleep. I gently pulled the nipple from his lips and carefully put the bottle on the nightstand and switch of the lights. The whole apartment went dark, but after a moment, a night light went on and projected dancing animals on the ceiling. Smiling, I lay back and watched them for a while, listening to Henry’s breathing when the mattress suddenly dipped, and Charlie appeared at my side.
For a second time, I found myself in a staring contest with the fluffy cat, but then he meowed and climbed over me. Obviously, he thought me worthy of his trust, because he lay down on my pillow and purred into my ear. That was how I fell asleep. My Boy was lying over me, softly snoring. Then Charlie, supposedly afraid of people, sprawled across my head, purring like a lawnmower. It was peaceful, and I had to admit that I had never fallen asleep so quickly.
The next morning, I woke up at seven. Henry was pressed into my side, sucking on his thumb, his cute curls a total mess. He looked so freaking adorable like this. Charlie was gone because I could move my head. While I looked around his room, I realized that Henry put his personal touch in the whole place, but there were no photographs. Not that I’d expected a wall dedicated to his family, but there wasn’t even a picture from his aunt, Ava. Nothing in this apartment indicated that he had any friends or family.
I looked back at my Boy. Henry. Michael. No. No matter what, I found out he was still Henry. He was my Little Boy, and my Little Boy deserved a fantastic day. Softly I reached down and checked his diaper, and he was dry. Gently kissing his head, I quietly got out of bed. Henry moved, but only to snuggle deeper into the pillows. On my way to the bathroom, I saw Charlie coming out of a utility room. He shook himself, and then he spotted me and started to meow so loud as if someone was trying to kill him.
“Hey, buddy. I’m awake. No need to be so loud.”
“Meooooooowwwwwwww.”
Dear God. Was he hurt? Was he ill? I rushed to the bedroom door, but of course, Henry was still sleeping. If something happened to his cat while he was asleep, he would kill me. I rushed over to Charlie, but when he saw me coming in his direction, he turned and ran into the kitchen. Ah, so nobody was killing him, but he was starving. Snorting, I followed him. As if Henry would let his precious cat starve.
Next to the fridge were two bright yellow bowls with white paws on them. One filled with water, but the other one was empty. Charlie stood in front of it, his tail raised, and he was meowing like a maniac. When I was making dinner last night, I knew I’d seen cat food. It only took one try to hit the jackpot—a shelf filled with cans. I quickly looked them over while Charlie rubbed himself against my calf.
“Okay, buddy. We have tuna or chicken. Oh, there is beef, too.” I turned another can so I could read the ingredients. “How about salmon? Or shrimp?”
How many different sorts of cat food are there? Frowning, I looked them all over and counted about thirteen. On the shelve above were packages of dry food, smaller ones with cat milk, and bags with goodies.
“Aren’t you a spoiled cat?”
“Meow.”
“Okay, how about salmon and shrimp. Your Little Daddy is getting a special breakfast. Would you like one as well? What do you say?” I pulled out the can and closed the cupboard.
“Meow.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would mind.” I opened the can and poured the food into his bowl. Charlie bumped his head against my leg and then devoured his breakfast. I chuckled and turned to clean out the empty can. “Enjoy your food while I make something special for your Little Daddy.”
A small benefit of Henry being deaf was that I didn’t have to be quiet.
