Chapter One
“Hello, dear.”
Aubrey’s heart jumped, so did the rest of her. She hadn’t heard anyone creeping up behind her until, suddenly, the elderly saleswoman was standing not two feet away. Stumbling, Aubrey grabbed her chest, the feeling of having just been caught flooding her with embarrassment’s unexpected heat.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped before she could stop herself and then laughed because it was such a guilty reaction. What did she have to be guilty about? She was just a customer. Customers walked into stores all the time and this one in particular, especially at this time of year. “I’m sorry.” She patted at her overreacting heart, willing it back to calm. “You scared me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The old woman beamed, more pleased than apologetic. “Welcome to Build-A-Bear. May I help you find something?”
“No, I…” Aubrey sucked inside herself so fast, it felt like a physical snap. She turned away. At least, she tried to, but her gaze locked back on that wall, her sneakers rooted to the floor, and she found herself hesitating all over again. “I-I just… I…”
What was wrong with her? It was her birthday in two days, and Christmas was less than two weeks away. Why was she having such a problem with this? She should be allowed to treat herself now and then, especially since she didn’t have anyone volunteering to do it for her.
“Getting a present for someone?” the old woman guessed, but she did it in a way that said, Go ahead. You can lie to me. It’s all right, I won’t take it personally.
“No.” In spite of herself, Aubrey melted a little. “I mean, I am getting a present… Yeah, okay. It’s for, um… someone.”
It wasn’t a lie, either. She absolutely qualified as a someone.
“Wonderful.” Stepping up beside her, the hunched old woman waved her hands at the wall. “What kind of present does someone want? A Honey Girl?” Taking a few steps along the bins, she plucked out a purple bunny with giant ears. “Or perhaps a Pony?” Looking up at the wall, she spotted a My Little Pony. It was white, with a metallic blue mane and tail. Turning back to Aubrey, her wizened features wrinkled into a pixie grin. “What do you need, dear?”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? What did she need? Aubrey looked up at the rows of shelves, sudden frustration making her want to either laugh or cry. What she needed couldn’t be plucked from a bin or bought in a store. It wasn’t any different than what everybody else in the world wanted and needed. To come home from work to somebody who cared about her. To be taken into strong arms and have her forehead kissed, her bottom rubbed—maybe spanked, just until she felt better—before a hot bath was run, crayons and dinosaur chicken nuggets provided, and a Disney movie put on TV until bedtime.
That wasn’t… weird, was it? It wasn’t weird for a twenty-something, working on her gender studies thesis, to want to dress up sexy in Rainbow Bright panties and Daddy’s oversized t-shirt. Or for him to call her princess when she crawled to him on all fours because she was being a “good girl”. Or for him to draw the line when she wasn’t being good, because sometimes, Aubrey wanted that, too. Sometimes she wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, and she didn’t know why. She’d always been that way for as far back as she could remember. The more hectic and crazy her life became, the more she wanted to curl up on the couch with a stuffy, a blanket, and this idealized-in-her-mind faceless, voiceless, up-to-this-point completely non-existent Daddy. She’d never met a Daddy in real life, although she had met a few dick-pic-sending Daddy-wannabes online. She didn’t even have a stuffy, and maybe that’s why she was here. If she couldn’t have the first part, at least she could have the latter.
Did that even make sense? Aubrey stared at all the grinning plushies on display, part of her feeling like ten-pounds of Little-crazy in a five-pound sack. And yet, how could buying a Build-A-Bear to get her through what was bound to be yet another lonely Christmas possibly be wrong? She didn’t even live in this city. It was the weirdest thing; she’d been on the road for about an hour, traveling north on I-35 from Arkansas City, where she lived. With five more weary hours before she reached her parents’ home in Lincoln, Nebraska, she should have whizzed straight through Wichita without so much as a second glance. Instead, she had been compelled to stop. Towne East Mall couldn’t even be seen from the interstate. She’d had to switch highways; she’d been that compelled. And now, here she was.
That was when she saw it, sitting up high on the wall shelves next to a rainbow-colored Pony dressed in half a sailor’s suit. It was a bear. A regular, brown teddy-type bear in denim jeans, white t-shirt, and cowboy boots. He wore a black leather jacket and an Indiana Jones-style hat. Kind of like a Daddy and a stuffy all rolled into one. He was just what she had always imagined he would be, and from the moment she saw it, Aubrey was hooked.
She pointed straight at the bear. “That one. That’s the one I want.”
Plucking a deflated brown bear from one of the bins, the old woman winked and beckoned Aubrey to follow her. “Right this way, dear.”
The excitement was undeniable as Aubrey trailed the hunched old woman through the store to a giant gypsy-style wagon with a glass top showing the cloud-like fluff inside. Taking a red cloth heart from a bucket hanging on the wagon, the saleswoman handed it to Aubrey. It was tiny, no bigger than the tip of her thumb.
“What is this?”
“His heart, of course.”
Aubrey looked at the bear first, then the heart in the palm of her hand.
“Hold it tight to your chest,” the old woman said, her wizened features taking on a whole new level of intensity. “Close your eyes.”
Inexplicably breathless, feeling a little silly, Aubrey clutched the heart in her hand and held it between her breasts. She had to check to make sure they were the only two people in the store before she relaxed enough to close her eyes. Once closed, she had trouble keeping them that way. She kept stealing peeks.
“Think deep.” The creak of a wooden chair told Aubrey the old woman was now sitting. She caught a startled breath when the vacuum whir of the wagon turned on, churning the fluff inside. “Think about all the things you want him to be.”
“Wh-what—” Who, her teddy? Aubrey puffed an embarrassed laugh and almost opened her eyes.
“Should he be good?” the old woman coaxed as she put the wagon nozzle into the open seam of her bear’s back. Depressing a foot pedal sent bits of fluff flowing through the nozzle and slowly, the deflated shell of her bear filled with clouds of plushy stuffing. “Should he be kind?”
How did she even know Aubrey meant for the bear to be a “he”? Fifty-fifty guess, she supposed, but still…
“Kind of creepy,” she half-laughed again.
“You want him to be creepy?” the old woman asked in surprise.
“No! No, I meant…” She meant this whole thing, but she caught herself before she said that out loud.
“How about just plain kind?” the saleswoman suggested.
“Yes, please,” Aubrey sighed, almost sure now she was taking what the old woman was saying out of context. Twisting it somehow and making it strange.
The vacuum started up again.
“Would you like him to be loving? Affectionate? Nurturing, perhaps?”
Okay, now that was definitely strange. How could an inanimate teddy bear be any of that? But, what the hell. Aubrey nodded and gave herself over to both the ridiculous and the impossible. Mentally, she even added on her own checklist of attributes. This was her bear, after all, her pseudo-Daddy until the real deal found his way into her life. Yes, she wanted kind and loving, affectionate and nurturing, but she also wanted protective. Someone who would make her feel cared for. Someone strong and earthy.
“Good girl,” the old woman hummed, though Aubrey barely heard her. She was too busy thinking about strong hands petting her hair and rubbing her back. Calloused working hands which knew when to treat her like the capable person she was and when to let her go Little. Gentle hands which would make her feel loved. Stern hands which knew sometimes she needed help to feel sorry, the way bad girls had been made to feel since the very first one ever had stepped out of line.
“Yes,” the saleswoman chuckled.
Aubrey wasn’t saying any of this out loud. Her deepest, most secret wishes were still locked silent and safe inside her. She thought about cowboys because she’d always had a thing for cowboys. And horses. And old leather belts being whipped out of belt loops and doubled over, making them ready for business. She thought about old ranches, gingham kitchen drapes, and handmade quilts perfect for cuddling under on cold winter mornings. Or for throwing off the bed at night because the sex was so damn hot, all that squirming, writhing, and gasping made her overheat.
The old woman giggled.
But mostly Aubrey thought about being with someone who would just let her… be. Someone she could be safe with, and who would never, ever laugh at her, no matter how silly or Little she was.
The vacuum shut off and the whine of the air-blower wound down.
“Open your eyes,” the saleswomen said.
When Aubrey did, she found the old woman staring at her with the most intense gaze she’d experienced since Pastor Daniels caught her with a pack of cigarettes in the church bathroom. She swallowed hard, feeling the force of that stare boring straight through her. Her stomach quivered. Her heart pounded, almost painfully, at her ribs.
“Here.” The old woman held out her bear, upside down with the gaping seam in its back yawning open, and all its fluffy white innards bulging out. “Kiss it for love and luck and put his heart inside.”
Kissing the backs of her fingers, Aubrey stretched out her hand to poke the little cloth heart into her bear. Funny how easily she could get caught up in the fantasy of the moment. With the tip of her finger, she buried the heart deep in the soft white fluffing.
Putting the bear face down on her lap, the old woman grabbed the two long threads that zippered the open seam and quickly tugged, pulled, and tightened until the gap was closed. When she stood, her cherubic smile was back, but the intensity was still there.
“Come along,” she called to Aubrey and headed across the store to the dressing station. While the wall behind them had been devoted to plushies of all types, this wall and most of the aisle dividers all around them were devoted to their clothing. Laying Aubrey’s bear on a short table, the old woman began to pull items off their cardboard hangers. She never once asked what Aubrey wanted, but Aubrey didn’t object. The things the old woman chose had an eerie echo to what the Daddy of her imaginings had worn, from the cowboy hat she eventually plopped on its head, to the cowboy boots on its pudgy bear feet, and everything—the baby-sized denim jeans, white t-shirt, and leather jacket—in between. When she was done, the old woman held the bear out to Aubrey.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?” Her grin was all creepy old salesperson and the sparkle in her dark gypsy eyes said she knew it. The way her grin broadened suggested she might even have practiced that smile in front of a mirror until she was sure she could get it just right for moments like this. It kind of detracted from the magic of the moment.
“Um.” Aubrey took her bear. “Thanks.”
“Will there be anything else?” the woman asked.
“N-no, um… thank you.”
“Right this way then.” Beckoning, the saleswoman led Aubrey to the cash-out counter where she paid for her purchase. Mentally, she was still trying to tell herself that this whole wonderful experience truly hadn’t turned weird at the end. When the old woman handed Aubrey the receipt, she laid her withered hand over Aubrey’s and, in a mock whisper, said, “Just let it happen, dear.”
It had been snowing off and on all week, brief flurries melting away almost as quickly as they fell. Aubrey didn’t think too much about it as she walked out of the mall into a brand-new outbreak of snowfall. The bear felt strangely heavy in her arms. She kept replaying the conversation with the saleswoman in her head, trying to find that precise moment when things went from normal to odd to spooky-odd, not quite able to put her finger on it. By the time she’d reached her car, she had about convinced herself that it was all in her head. For whatever reason, she was freaking out over… what? A Build-A-Bear? Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. Glimmers of unease still haunted her as she popped the locks to drop her purse on the passenger-side floorboard and the bear on the seat.
The bear seemed to grin straight at her.
Giving herself a mental shake, Aubrey shut the door and walked around the car to get in on the driver’s side. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck tickled as, keys hovering near the ignition, she looked at the bear again. Still grinning, because… of course it would be, it looked back at her in that unique way all plushies had. Dolls’ eyes followed people; everybody knew that.
“Yeah, that’s not spooky at all.” She felt a little silly saying that out loud. The bear grinned in agreement. Trying to shake the weirdness, she started the car.
Buckle up.
She put her seatbelt on. After a long mental debate, she reached over and buckled the bear in too.
“Just so you know—” She stabbed a finger just off the tip of its bear nose so it would know she was serious. “—if you come awake in the middle of the night and try to spank me, I am going to freak right the fuck out.”
Warning given, Aubrey put the car in gear and headed for the highway.
* * *
She should have checked the weather before starting this trip. Half an hour past Wichita on US-81, the flurries turned into real snow. The kind which stuck to the roads, which wouldn’t have been so bad if there wasn’t a half-inch of half-melted slush directly underneath. Aubrey kept eyeing her rearview mirror where the digital readout tracked both her northward direction and the falling temperature.
“Don’t do this to me,” she begged, but it had already dipped well below freezing. By the time she hit the halfway point between Arkansas City and Lincoln, the flurries had turned into a blizzard, and outside temperatures had dropped drastically. Huge gusts of wind buffeted her car, and though she had long ago slowed to a crawl, her back-end kept trying to fishtail. Her hands hurt from her tight grip on the steering wheel. She should have stayed home, but her parents were expecting her. It was rare when she had both the money and the time for a trip home. Bad as it was, even had she known how bad the weather was destined to get, she knew she was just stubborn enough to try to make it, anyway.
What you wouldn’t have done is stop at the mall, her brain whispered. That was a given. Had she known it was going to snow like this, she would have driven straight past Towne East and probably even hiked her speed a good five to ten miles over the limit in an effort to beat the storm all the way home. Her folks’ home, she quickly amended. She didn’t live there anymore, and thank God, really, because they’d likely still be setting her up on date after blind date. They wanted grandchildren with the same blind desperation she wanted a Daddy. How sad was that?
Wow, this weather was horrible. She seemed to be the only idiot out in it, which was phenomenally unusual for US-81, even during a snowstorm.
When have you ever seen, much less been in, a storm like this? her brain demanded.
The back end of her car slid sideways. Aubrey quickly got it under control, but it scared her. It scared her even more when the temperature dropped another degree. Shit. She couldn’t see a damn thing, not headlights nor taillights. She had barely seen the deep blue Rest Area sign, blurred beneath a dusting of snow, but still recognizable. One-quarter mile, it read; she marked it on the odometer. Packed snow obliterated the turnoff. If she hadn’t been tracking it, she never would have noticed the faint, flat stretch of snow between two road markers which had a good six inches of snow mounded around their bases. She should have been able to see the rest area’s lights from the interstate, but no, all she saw was fast-flying snow. The only reason she didn’t run straight into a lamp post was because she bumped into the curb first.
Ooo, that was a tire alignment she couldn’t afford to pay for.
Slipping into reverse, she pulled off the sidewalk, bouncing and sliding as she dropped onto blacktop again. She couldn’t see the bathrooms any more than she could see the sidewalk, but she parked anyway. Everything outside was a white-out. Too bad it wasn’t a white-out inside the car. She wouldn’t at all have minded not being able to see how low on gas she was. She should have filled up two towns back when she could still see the town she was passing. She was still a bar above empty, which meant under any other circumstance, she would have enough to make it to Concordia, at least. Knowing she might be stuck here a while, she was debating on how long or how often to run the engine. She should have put a sleeping bag in the trunk or a heavier coat in the backseat. Sadly, the only warm and fluffy thing she had to help stave off the cold was Potentially Demonic Bear in his cowboy hat and boots.
She glanced over at him. He grinned back at her.
“Be very careful,” she warned. “I don’t care how much I spent, there are no laws against abandoning a Build-A-Bear on the highway.” She’d be out sixty bucks, but she wouldn’t go to jail.
She wished she hadn’t stopped in Wichita for that Five-Hour Energy shot with a forty-ounce Code Red chaser.
“I really have to pee,” she told her bear. Supposedly, somewhere in all that fast-falling snow was a bathroom. She couldn’t think of anything more stupid than blindly setting out in search of it. On the other hand, if she just sat here, she was going to wet her pants and these were cloth seats. Also, her Little didn’t like diaper play.
Wind buffeted the car. Already swirling snow was building on the windows. Even with the heater running, it was storming hard enough to blanket all but the sections of glass closest to the vents. The underside melted, but the upper layer accumulated, growing thicker by the minute. She watched thin rivulets of water slip along under the snow like tears.
Why was it that the longer a person thought about having to pee, the worse the sensation became? The pressure of the seatbelt was too much, so Aubrey took it off. She tried to find a more comfortable, less bladder-crunched way to sit. She bounced a couple times. It wasn’t working. In the short amount of time she’d spent parked here, the swirling storm had completely covered every window and presumably, the rest of her vehicle. Getting out was a bad idea, but she had to do something to relieve the pressure.
Leaning over the backrest, she hooked her jacket off the rear seat and pulled it on. She shoved open the driver’s-side door just in time to see bright, yellow light splash over the door and her arm. She yanked her arm back in just as the pickup truck slid to a stop beside her, shaving the door clean off her car.
In the half-second of heart-pounding quiet which directly followed, there was a lot Aubrey couldn’t remember. She didn’t remember crab-crawling into the passenger seat until her back butted against the other door. She sure didn’t remember grabbing Potentially Demonic Bear because never in her wildest imaginings did she imagine hugging him would have saved her from anything. At best, he was only a Build-A-Bear; he just didn’t have that kind of power. At worst… well, the jury was still out on which side of the whole Good vs. Evil Spectrum he swung.
Staring wide-eyed and horrified at the jet-black truck and gaping snow-filled hole where her door used to be, Aubrey honestly didn’t know if she’d screamed. She couldn’t remember making a sound. Not until that truck rocked, the window cranked down, and a dark-haired man in a well-worn brown felt cowboy hat popped his head into view. The truck was high enough, so he had to scrunch down to see her, but his eyes were no less wide than hers, and when he saw her, his face paled.
“Christ on a cracker,” he swore, peering through the narrow gap between the bottom of his window frame and the top of her now quite broken car. “Lady, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t see a thing.”
In that instant, two thoughts centered themselves in her mind—a mind blown empty by the shock of what had just happened. First, how was she going to get to Nebraska or hell, even the next town, in a car without a driver’s door? And second, from his hat to the white collar of his t-shirt to the black collar of his leather jacket, the man looked just like her Build-A-Bear. And her Build-A-Bear looked exactly the way she had imagined her cowboy Daddy would when she’d been hugging the little cloth heart.
“Holy shit,” she said stunned, her breath steaming the snow-flecked air as it came swirling into her car. She hadn’t built a bear. “I built a Daddy!”