Stories we Tell -- (Author) storywriter
Stories we Tell -- (Author) storywriter
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 10, 2014 at 6:47 PM
Content: So like I said last night in my introduction, I've been lurking here for a long time, reading posts and stories and the like. Never felt an urge to make an account; I'm pretty at peace with my life (and plenty to do). But over the past few weeks I decided to do some writing in the ABDL genre [I write quite a bit in other areas - very little in terms of stories/fiction].
Hence, this is both my first ABDL story as well as really my first piece of actual fiction/story-writing. Hopefully you will be able to tell that I aim to make the characters interesting and have it focus on the people, not just diapers (which will show up in time).
I have hopes of improving my skill so constructive criticism is appreciated. [suggestions on grammar/diction are less interesting to me -- I realize this might not be much better than draft quality in that sphere] What would be really useful if you have time for critique is input on style, paragraph/sentence structure, thought development, etc... This may be easier to give as it goes on. Please be gentle :sweatdrop:
I have this story mapped out quite a few years into the future of the protagonist (Jordan) -- and I don't intend to follow her life or experience in a day by day manner but will make some leaps forward in time. I hope I didn't break any rules by having an adolescent as a protagonist; she will grow up as the story progresses and certainly it won't contain any of the objectionable content mentioned by Moo in the sticky.
Thanks for reading. :grouphug:
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Stories we Tell
Chapter 1 – [August 2001]
As the sun rose on 22nd Avenue, dew clung to the uncut grass behind the weather-beaten picket fence. The morning fog from Puget Sound had just about burned off in anticipation of the warm August day although a chill remained in the moist air. The small 3-bedroom house nestled in the overgrown yard would have been quite modest in almost any other part of the country. But in Ballard, a quiet north-Seattle neighborhood, it was a significant real estate investment.
On Sunday mornings in this part of the country, the streets and sidewalks bustle with activity. Rather than attending church services as they might in other regions, most people are out and about: shopping, walking pets, enjoying the great Northwest outdoors, and expansive art scene. On a gorgeous August day like this would be – there was no reason to be cooped up inside.
Yet that’s where she was. In the small front bedroom of their 1650sqft ranch style home, she sat at a small desk behind a Compaq branded computer monitor. Her fingers danced rhythmically on the keyboard – unswervingly dedicated to their task. The room was quiet. Dark. Cool but not cold. Glancing up outside, she could see the long shadows still cast by the house onto the street in front of her as the sun rose behind. Pillows and a couple stuffed animals lined her single bed in the corner, clothes littered her floor, a pile of rather heavy looking library books (seemingly too thick for a girl her age) laid next to the bed, and a lone poster of a young Harry Potter hung on her beige wall.
A door slammed elsewhere in the house.
Jordan heard the family’s maroon Chrysler minivan parked in the alley start up and drive away quickly. “Nice,” she whispered barely audibly, “No church then?”
A twinge of sadness emanated from her gut as she thought about his promise to spend time with her that afternoon after lunch. Shopping for clothes wasn’t her favorite activity in general and particularly over the past few months, but time alone with Dad was always welcome – especially given his recent work schedule. I guess that’s off too, she thought. Returning to her writing she waited for her mother’s knock.
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Ted Reynolds was pissed. His ’92 Town and Country wasn’t made for the driving he was putting it through – but this rage had to get out.
Why can’t she respect what I’m trying to do!?!? It’s not like I WANT to go in to work today – but if we’re going to keep this thing going in the right direction this is what has to happen!!! This is the cost!! What does she wanna see? …Me fail? …Me crash and burn again? FUCK!!!
He careened south through traffic toward the Ballard Bridge and downtown Seattle. Cutting off a Volvo, he heard the sound of tires screeching and horn blaring; this jarred him into slightly more thoughtful inner dialogue.
The truth was that he loved his career at the shelter. It was not only his life’s work but his dream: to do something for those who were on their last leg, to restore lives, to give hope, to systematically address the underlying causes of homelessness and poverty. It’s not that kids and a family were unimportant to him – he wanted to be a good dad and husband. And he truly wanted his family to learn to be a part of his work, a part of his mission, a part of his world. Thinking about his daughter Jordan he felt guilty – I DID promise her I would go shopping today…and I canceled on her last Sunday too for that golf meeting. I’ve got to be a good leader though; I’ve got to do the right thing; I’ve got to lead by example. This might be my only shot.
As lead executive of Hope Seattle, Ted typically didn’t go into work on Sundays but the project coordinator Melissa had called him early that morning upset and complaining that she had been left high and dry. A group of out-of-town volunteers were supposed to have set up the facility for the non-profit’s biannual fundraising Auction Gala that evening; they cancelled last minute. Alone to do the grunt work herself, Melissa was not only frustrated but also doubtful of her ability to get it done in time.
When the S.O.S. call came shortly after 7:30am, Mrs. Reynolds begged Ted not to go in. She reasoned that some of the other staff members could go in to help. She reminded him of his commitment to their daughter. She pointed out that he had already put in 70 hours that week. She even reluctantly brought up the fact that if he went in, this would be the second Sunday in a row he’d miss church.
“What kind of example are you setting for our girls Ted? Even as the CEO of Hope?”, she had said.
That had done it. He had stormed out, slammed the door and was off to the races.
As Ted picked his way through Belltown, he thought about the kind of boss he longed to be – a servant leader, dedicated, sold out to the cause, and willing to do anything it takes. Sally, his wife, preferred him to be mediocre – to be lukewarm for his calling so he could be a little warmer for his family. She just didn’t value the kind of dedication and leadership he offered to the company and to the world – she didn’t see the difference he was making.
Melissa did however.
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Jen was crying. Startled from her sleep when the door slammed, she became wide-awake, wide eyed, and agitated immediately. The toddler had climbed out of her crib in the south end of the house and come running to Sally’s room looking for consolation with mixed results. Mom felt almost as anxious as the baby. Crawling into bed Jen snuggled up with her mom who was trying to wipe her red puffy eyes and cheeks.
“Good morning sweetie. Did you sleep good?”
“Maaaw….aaaaaaah…mmmmm….”, in whimpers was about all she got out.
“I know baby, I’m upset too.”
Moments later the five-year-old Mindi ambled around the corner of Sally’s bedroom door as well. The two youngest girls shared the room at the end of the hall and although Mindi hadn’t been startled by the early morning marital conversation, her sister’s crying did the job. “Mom, I’m hungry!” she moaned as she crawled up into bed.
“Ok honey just give me a few minutes.”
“But moooom!! I’m Huuungry!!”
The baby continued whining and squawking as well.
“Listen Mindi, you need to wait.”
She began to pout with audible ‘phrumphs’ and exaggerated movements flopping here and there on the bed. It was during this writhing stage that Sally realized she hadn’t changed out of her nighttime pull-up. Like many kids her age, Mindi still had bedwetting problems. The doctor had said it was normal but mom, who had studied Psychology as well as Business in college, did some of her own research on the subject and suspected the stress in their home was contributing. The Reynolds’ managed it matter-of-factly like thousands of families around the country do: disposable underpants.
Over the past few months, the home policy had been that Mindi was to change out of her sleepwear first thing in the morning instead of waiting until after breakfast or ‘whenever’. “No one wants to smell your pee”, Mom had said. It was about all Sally could do to manage one kid in diapers and Mindi caring for her own bedwetting needs was one less thing on her plate – God knew that Mr. Reynolds wasn’t changing many diapers.
“Mindi, why are you still in your pullup?!”
“Mooom!! I forgoooot!! And I’m sooooo hungry!!!”
“You’ve been doing so well at this honey – remember? First thing in the morning. Pullup off. Panties on.”
She started to a fake moaning cry with no movement toward to bathroom. Jen was starting to squawk and talk, trying to shift attention to her. This can’t be my life, Sally thought.
“Go. Now.” Sally said sternly.
Still no movement was noticeable (except the toddler who shifted strategies to bouncing on Sally’s shoulder begging and face). Why does everything have to be a test of willpower?
“Jordaaaaaan!!!", This is gonna be a long day, she thought, “Please get up and come help me!!”
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Jordan’s story was about a pair of astronauts exploring Mars in the flesh for the first time in the history of humanity. The two were father and son. Of course the setting was many decades beyond 2001 and the story was full of descriptions of high tech devices, complications, emergency procedures, and dialogue between father and son about back home. Most interestingly, a complex alien civilization lived just under the surface of the red planet, which proved to be both friendly and curious in the strange visitors from above. This wasn’t Jordan’s first attempt at writing but it was the first time she had really taken it seriously and put some energy into the task.
At only twelve years old, she had little idea if writing was something she wanted to do as an adult – like, for money – but it certainly was something she found relaxing. Her home life was stressful. Mom and Dad fought – a lot. Sometimes it was about his work. Other times it was about her work (or lack thereof lately). Still others it was about her siblings, the private school bill, the lawn, the dishes, the weather, it didn’t matter. The more Jordan wrote, the more she felt as though she could break away from the world she was given and enter into a different life.
That morning Dad had stormed out of the house and yet again she had to help her Mom with her sisters. Jordan hated dealing with diapers and pee and smells and body parts but it seemed like whenever her mom asked her for help, that’s what came her way.
“You’re becoming a young woman Jordan. You need to learn how to do these things,” her Mom had said.
She didn’t want to be reminded of the changes beginning to happen to her body but that was pretty much impossible. Over the course of the previous spring and summer Jordan had “shot up like a weed” (as her grandmother from the Eastern part of Washington State liked to say), growing 6 inches in height to an extremely lofty (for a 7th grader) 5’8”. In addition, she alone had begun to notice what she knew to be other signs of womanhood. And as much as she liked the respect and responsibility of being the oldest child in the family, the young girl was terrified of the thought of becoming a full-blown adult woman.
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The small family (sans-Dad) was bus bound whenever he took off with the family’s only car. Typically when he went to work, he rode the bus into the city leaving the minivan for Sally on kid patrol. But on days like today, things were different. She and Jordan juggled the younger two children as they managed to get to church only 30 minutes late after which they grabbed a quick bite to eat across town at the Northgate Mall.
Shortly after that, Jordan found herself in a small department store changing room with several simple outfits in incrementally increasing sizes lined up in preparation for her testing.
Ballard Christian School was a private Kindergarten through 12th grade school with just under 500 students – uniforms were going to be required for the first time this coming school year (although they would still be somewhat flexible in their application). Skirts for girls in plaid or khaki with button up blouses or polo shirts; boys the same except khaki pants instead of skirts and button up shirts instead of blouses; everyone could wear neckties.
Woo-freaking-Hoo, she had thought when the school announced the change last spring at the end of her 6th grade year. Now she was forced to try on these clothes for sizing alone, simply to highlight her body that, as mom had mercilessly continued to point out, was irrevocably changing. She didn’t even want to think about the pre-teen undergarment hanging in the corner. Ugh! Mom did you really have to insist – OUT LOUD – that I’m trying on bras too?!?! As if this day wasn’t bad enough!
Sally wasn’t sure how much Jordan’s growth spurt that summer had shifted things so she had left her alone in the dressing room to figure it out. The two younger ones were driving her bananas anyways; running in and out of clothing racks, screaming, yelling, or disappearing. There was no way she could stick by Jordan for a long term consult and besides, it’s good for her to start figuring these things out for herself. She’s smart, she’s curious, and she’s resourceful. It might not be the perfect shopping trip but it beats what the girls down at Ted’s shelter are faced with, Sally had thought to herself.
Even though the prospects of buying uniforms for school wasn’t what Jordan had been looking forward to per se, Dad always made things more interesting. She enjoyed his outgoing nature, his sense of humor, and the way he could strike up conversations with perfect strangers. He was charismatic, smart, and witty. She knew he would have made this awkward activity during this dreadfully awkward phase in life a little more bearable – even fun. Mom, on the other hand, was far more serious and stressed most of the time. As Dad’s organization had grown in size, he had spent more time away from home. The more Jordan thought about her parents’ relationship and the ways in which they connected with her (or not), the more confused, hurt, and alone she felt. In that dressing room that Sunday afternoon, she couldn’t help but feel the pangs of abandonment, although she may not have been able to name it quite like that.
I know mom isn’t going anywhere but I feel so lonely… Do I have to take care of myself now? Am I a woman now? I don’t feel ready for all this. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with half this stuff! I’m scared.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 11, 2014 at 4:06 PM
Content: Chapter 2 – [August 2001 – One week before School]
The Auction Gala couldn’t have gone better. Hope Seattle raised over $750,000 in that single event; nearly 20% of its yearly budget. This was the most successful fundraising venture Ted had dreamed up and executed yet. Of course it cost him a Sunday with his family, but that wasn’t the plan. Originally, a group of volunteers headed up by his talented and productive project manager Michelle was supposed to do all the legwork and he would merely have to show up. All the back fill prep had been done weeks ahead of time: sponsors had signed up, products donated, invitations to the dinner Auction sent, RSVPs received, and caterer arranged. The final domino of setup and decoration simply had to be done. Ted felt absolutely duty bound to demonstrate his service-oriented style of leadership by helping Michelle out (not to mention the other staff) with these kinds of emergencies. This was just part of working in the world of non-profits and volunteers.
Board meeting was Monday night following the gala and they praised both Ted and Michelle with great accolades – the two stood side by side glowing in joy. It was true. They loved their jobs. They loved what they were accomplishing together; and they worked so well as a team! Staff meeting was Tuesday night, then Ted got hung up with an unruly client and a police call on Wednesday evening so by the time the end of the week came around, things were even more tense at home. In time like these, he felt drawn to stay at work even longer hours because it became a sanctuary for him from the nag of Sally. Things were perfect and peaceful at Hope Seattle. His dreams were being realized. Although he loved his girls with all his heart; the stress and tension was thick in the house.
Everyone could feel it too – presumably even the baby Jen who seemed to be regressing in her ability to obey her Mom by the second. Sally was frustrated and on edge; particularly given that the underlying source of the drama wasn’t something that had been solved or conceivably could be. Small inconveniences overwhelmed her and she was starting to feel afraid. Is this workload ever going to ramp down? When is Ted going to be home like we had talked about before we had Jen – before we had Mindi really? He always talks about how great leaders create systems so they don’t have to do everything but it seems like he’s always the one who has to show up and be the hero and we get caught in the gears. What’s gonna happen in 5 more years when Jordan’s 17 and in High School and the others are in grade school themselves? They need their dad! We need our family! I need my husband!
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It made Jordan mad when her Mom yelled at her and asked her to change the baby’s diaper or fix breakfast or clean up a mess. Jeez mom! She thought in a weak moment, that’s your job around here! You don’t work – what else are you doing?! She knew somewhere down inside that everyone had to play their parts but Jordan just wanted some peace and quiet. The young teenager could feel the tension too although she didn’t really understand it. Mostly she just wanted to be left alone for a few hours a day to work on her story or read or lay in bed and listen to music and not have her siblings barging in to demand attention or her Mom make her feel like she was wasting time doing nothing.
And with only a week and two days left before school would begin, she felt like she was running out of time on the story. By this time in her tale, father and son had successfully (as far as they could tell) deciphered a crude system of hand sign language to communicate with the alien race who were themselves humanoid but had only one arm instead of two. The pair had come to believe that they were a peaceful and advanced civilization that had been marooned there as punishment from the rest of their ‘people’. They were all alone – with no one to take care of them. She heard a knock on the door – “Jordan, Mindi needs some help with her toy.”
“UUUGHH!!!” Jordan uttered a little more audibly than she intended.
“Listen young lady, everyone has to take an active part in this household. No one gets to just bow out. I don’t want to hear any more lip.”
She got up and pouted out the door. “Dad too?” slipped quietly out of her lips as she walked by her Mom. Almost immediately Jordan regretted it but it was too late.
At first rage came to Sally’s eyes – then tears – then her hands. She turned, ran, and locked herself in her room.
“What happened to mom?!” Mindi asked walking around the corner from the living room after hearing running on the hardwood floors.
Jordan was frozen. Foolish and alone.
The baby started wailing.
The rest of the morning and early afternoon, Jordan had gone out of her way to be helpful around the house. She had avoided her own bedroom and computer area for fear of setting her mom off. After her mom had been in the bedroom a half hour or so, she had come out and Jordan apologized for mouthing off. Sally acknowledged the tension in the house and said that it was probably stressing everyone out. She suggested that Jordan spend some time with her friend Alexis Miller that afternoon while she and the two other kids go to the grocery story. It was a white flag of surrender. Jordan took it and ran. In fact a bit of her feelings of sadness and loneliness seemed to drop in that suggestion as well.
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Alex (she hated being called by her full name) had been Jordan’s closest friend ‘since they were in diapers’ as their parents always said. Sally and Alex’s mom Jo had been pregnant at the same time and were friends from church. Alex was much more outgoing that Jordan – a risk-taker with a good heart. For Jordan it seemed like every time they got together, they would always end up crumpled on floor in heaves of laughter.
It had been a couple weeks since they had hung out and the plan was for the two to meet over at this semi-run down mini mart around the corner from their house. Because the neighborhood was such a sleepy little suburb, Jordan’s parents and Alex’s mom had grown to feel comfortable letting them walk there over the past spring and summer. The joint had a greasy deli in it with some tables to sit at – perfect for Jr. High aged kids to spend some quality time catching up. Jordan was waiting at a table with a large can of iced tea when Alex came in dressed in shorts, t-shirt, and a baseball cap. As she sat down, she glanced motioned over her shoulder, “did you see that nun out there?!”
Confused, Jordan looked at her - grateful for her quirky friend, well it’s nice to see you too.
“She’s – well – he’s? – I mean… I don’t know. Anyways, she’s got a full beard, red moulin rouge gloves, a Nazi tattoo on her cheek, and she’s riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle – with no helmet… Talk about random.”
Jordan just stared at her in wonder – then finally smiled.
“I missed you,” And then they both cracked up into a cackle of laughter, giggles, and smiles.
“So did you go get your uniforms yet for school?” Jordan asked.
“Don’t remind me,” Alex said rolling her eyes, “why can’t we just wear normal clothes again? I hate that they’re changing the rules and making us wear skirts of all things!! Ugh!”
“Well at least you aren’t 10 feet tall. They all feel like I’m walking around wearing around a washcloth. I just wish I could pick out my own brands so they aren’t so short.”
“I think you’ve grown since the last time I saw you actually…too bad you hate sports so much – I bet Mr. Parker won’t leave you alone about basketball this year.”
“Don’t remind me.” Then in a whisper Jordan said, “I think those might be growing too,” she glanced down at her chest, “my mom even made me get...,” looking around to make sure no one was listening in, “a bra.” She frowned and crossed her arms.
“REALLY! That’s awesome!!” Realizing Jordan’s genuine dismay at her condition, Alex tried to match the mood. “I – I mean. That was probably embarrassing.”
“Yeah, and I had to like try everything on all by myself and I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Really? I thought your dad was going with you?”
“Well he was but – you don’t want to hear about all this...” Swirling around what was left of her tea Jordan began to think again about all the stress and drama at home. It really had been tough and even though Alex meant well and admired her for her intelligence and wit – she wasn’t always the most empathetic to be around. I wonder if I’ll be able to make some more friends this year in Jr. High? How will everyone treat me after I’ve changed so much over the summer? Will any new kids come to school?
As Jordan moved inward, Alex took the moment of silence to begin a monologue about her expectations of volleyball season, followed by basketball, track, then softball. As a middle-schooler now, the sports scene would be completely different and she SOOO excited for the challenge. The monologue droned on until Jordan heard something about the Michael’s a family who had kids at their school.
“What?” Jordan asked, “Say that again.”
“Wanna go throw water balloons at Chrissy Michael? I saw her sun-tanning in their back yard when I walked down the alley on my way here. She’s so up tight. It’d be fun!” Alex had that glint of mischief in her eye that Jordan loved so much. Chrissy was a Senior this year and the older sister of Joey, a (wonderful and cute) boy in Alex & Jordan’s class. They lived within in between Jordan's house and the mini-mart.
She's kind of tightly wound, Jordan thought. Funny too, because this is like the one day of the year when anyone could possibly lay out in the sun in this city.
Alex motioned to the small package of water balloons on the rack in the mini-mart.
“Let’s do it.” Jordan smiled.
They paid and were off to the races after having filled their share of balloons and stashed arsenals in grocery sacks. The girls would’ve startled a rock band with their approach down the alley way – laughing and giggling and shrieking. But unsuspecting Chrissy was facing away from the alleyway fence and was also wearing headphones.
Once they got close, Alex took on the role of the platoon leader complete with goofy hand signals and overwrought war maneuvers behind cover. Jordan could hardly keep herself out of hysterics. The two started lobbing balloons over the fence before finally flinging the gate open for the grand finale: unloading what was left on, around, nearby, far away from, and everywhere in between they and Chrissy. She shrieked in horror, falling off her chair and cowering under a towel. So afraid that the end of the world had come, she didn’t even get a look at who her assailants could be. They shrieked in delight and ran away scot free, howling in laughter all the way back to Jordan’s house.
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That evening, the mood had immediately shifted for Jordan. From careless joy and fun with her best friend to heaviness and loneliness. She had hardly known what to do with herself. Ted had come home early and Sally had started in with comments about the week. Fighting and bickering ensued. Hostility rose. Comments from each had grown sharper and less understanding. Jordan had retreated to her room, locked the door and flipped on her computer; somehow Mars in the pages of her digital book had felt like a sanctuary for her. And despite the stress about clothes and friends and teachers on the forefront of her mind, Jordan had thought it can’t come soon enough, anything is better than this Lion’s den.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 13, 2014 at 1:31 AM
Content: Thanks for the welcome
Chapter 3 – [August 27, 2001 - First Day of School]
Ballard Christian School sat nestled on a hillside overlooking Puget Sound near Golden Gardens park on the West side of Ballard. It was an urban school but absolutely gorgeous. Truly. It was a wonder a kid like Jordan had the chance to be a student at such a fancy place. Even though her dad was the leader of a company, it was non-profit that served homeless people for Chrissakes! Not exactly a well-to-do segment of the population and typically not a lucrative career. However, as Ted had learned, in the non-profit world it was possible to bring home a modest salary while at the same time enjoy certain perks afforded by powerful people who’s influence and salaries were larger than life. Ballard Christian School was heavily subsidized and endowed by a number of Christian philanthropists who grew wealthy through the previous decade’s . boom. Many of these individuals were also on the board of Ted’s organization and they were more than happy to help he and his family live a more comfortable life as a reward for his self-sacrifice and thoughtful service.
The building itself had been newly remodeled and looked high tech: lots of exposed steel beams, braided cabling, exposed raw wood, stamped concrete floors, and expanses of glass characterized the space. Leather furniture littered the hallways and lobbies and students bustled about carrying fancy electronic devices. In addition to incorporating uniforms over the summer, the High School (grades 9-12) implemented a laptop program where each student enrolled received their own computer for the year. It wasn’t an accident that 98% of Ballard students graduated 12th grade and 92% were accepted into college.
Even though BCS was less than a mile from their home, Jordan rode the bus most of the time. She felt very self-conscious wearing her new uniform – she and her mom had exchanged some words about it that morning. But all in all it felt like a relief to get out of the house. Over the past week, the tension had continued to feel like a wet blanket on her head and shoulders – suffocating and isolating. It felt like dad hardly talked with her anymore and when he did, it felt like he was just trying to butter her up or something. Weird. Mom, on the other hand, continued to put more and more responsibilities on her that she either didn’t want to do (Jen’s diapers and Mindi’s playtime) or didn’t feel capable of doing (last Wednesday night she had asked Jordan to take care of dinner – doesn’t she remember that I’m still only 12?!?). In each case, it served to make Jordan feel all the more alone. Who is looking out for me? She wondered more than once over the past week.
The bus ride was pretty much the same as year’s prior. BCS might have been a fancy private parochial school with uniforms and a view, but they still had yellow school busses with brown seats and not enough supervision. They had the same bullies as other schools too – perhaps just a little more entitled. She recognized a lot of familiar faces but for some reason, she didn’t get a lot of smiles back as she walked the long aisle to the back third of the bus. Jordan sat down and her knees touched the seat back in front of her. That’s new, she thought.
“OW!!! Watch what you’re doing with those things, Lanky!” Laughter sprinkled throughout the surrounding seats. The girl in front of Jordan poked her head over the top of the vinyl seat glaring and rubbing her back. Although with uniforms it was a little more difficult to identify social standing and ‘coolness’, telltale indicators of status were always available: the tiffany bracelet around her wrist, the stylish layered bob haircut reminiscent of Jennifer Anniston, the perfect teeth, skin, nails, everything.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” More than a few kids were watching to see what would happen between the lowly seventh-grade giant and Amber, one of the most popular 8th graders in school.
“Well keep ‘em under control would ya’ trees?” Kids laughed at the name.
“Sure.” Jordan slumped into her seat angling her legs sideways. Please don’t let this be this kind of year. Please. God please. I’ll do anything. I just need a break. One small break. Why did you have to make me so tall – and why THIS YEAR? Why now? A tear started forming in the corner of her left eye.
Glancing over the seat Amber took the bait, “Oh look, the giraffe’s crying now!! Boo hoo hoo hoo!!! Little baby giraffe needs to go home and be with her mommy.” Everyone was watching. Jordan just tried to melt into the brown textured vinyl. “How’d you get so tall anyways giraffe? Eat lots of twigs and sticks and branches? You got some stuck in those chompers?” Amber reached over and flipped her finger on Jordan’s lips playfully yet deviously. “You like leaves? Yum, yum, yum, giraffe.” The gorgeous green trees outside couldn’t fly by fast enough for Jordan – but no one was coming to her rescue. Alex was on a different bus and yet again she was all alone. “I bet she’s got a black tongue everything too.” Kids younger and older, many rows to the front and back were eating up Ambers theatrics; she was in the zone. With Jordan’s eyes closed, the first thing she felt was the end of a pencil eraser pushing into her mouth. What the hell? Is she trying to pry my mouth open or something?
“Open up!!!” Amber said like she was a friendly dental hygienist, “Let us see that stinky black tongue of yours!"
“STOP IT!!!! Leave me ALONE!!!” Jordan stood up. “I’m not a giraffe. I’m not smelly. I don’t have a black tongue.” The kids got quiet.
“I don’t eat leaves. STOP IT you…you…”
Just then the bus hit a bump and Jordan lost her balance and clumsily tripped over those long legs and ended up in a heap partially on her seat and partially on the floor. The entire bus erupted in laughter. Of course she was beyond mortified – in tears – and terrified about what the rest of the day (let alone the year) had in store for her.
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Sally wasn’t sure if their morning bout had been heard by everyone in the family or not – this time it took place in the single car garage in the back of the house. As usual it was on the topic of Ted’s dedication to his career, absence from his family, and Sally’s feeling of being a single mom (more or less). Ted – with his own dreams of success and excitement about pursuing his mission in life felt frustrated about his wife not appreciating and joining him in his work. He wished she could (a) understand why he had to be away and (b) make an effort to come with him to the facility a few times a week. She is a CPA for God’s sake! It’s not like she doesn’t have professional training, or the ability to contribute at a high level! Sally liked work but she wanted to be home with her kids during this part of their lives; something she had thought Ted wanted as well – they had discussed it ad nauseum before even Jordan came along. Then, once Hope Seattle began to experience great success, many of the things they had negotiated seemed to go up in smoke from Sally’s viewpoint.
It had all started when Sally asked Ted if he could help her with the baby instead of watching TV that morning. He made a sharp comment about gender roles. She made one back about his career. And the fireworks began. The argument went around and around and the more it did – the less empathy each seemed to feel for one another. Neither really wanted to compromise. Sally even began to wonder if Ted had her and the kids’ best interests in mind. Ted had wondered that for some time. It was not a good path. As he had done a week and a half before, Ted left in a huff, taking the van with him in his pajamas leaving Sally to figure out the days shopping and kids activities via public transportation or leaning on friends. This can’t go on. They both had thought as they parted ways that Monday morning.
To add to the stress, Sally felt worried for Jordan. She knew that she hadn’t been giving her the kind of time and guidance she desired – and she also sensed that some of the added expectations were pushing her beyond her comfort level. I need help though. I don’t know where else to turn! She is growing up; she is becoming a woman. But maybe I’m forcing it too quickly? Sally didn’t want her daughter to feel like she had to navigate this complex time in life feeling like she didn’t have her mom on her side – but she also had her own plate more than full. It was a catch 22.
She sat in the front room of their 1960’s home and looked at the grains in the wood floor. It really was a nice house – would’ve cost a third of what we paid if it was built back home in Kansas City, she thought. But as the sun filtered through the window and steam swirled from her coffee cup, she took a deep breath, she was happy to have it. The baby was finally asleep and Mindi was playing in the living room; these moments were golden for a mom of three and Sally hadn’t been the best at taking advantage of them. I’ve got to find a way to create some stability around this place…
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Jordan’s first day at school improved only marginally. The nickname "Giraffe" was going to stick it would seem. Ugh. What horrific luck, she thought. But she and Alex had almost the exact same schedule (save Jordan’s choice of advanced math while Alex was in Volleyball). Furthermore, Jordan really had a good feeling about her new English teacher Mr. Johns. He was new to the school – not just to Jordan and he hadn’t taught but one year before this foray at BCS. He and his wife were from Oregon and she was a teacher in the younger grades. They are SOOOO cute together, Jordan had thought as Mr. Johns introduced himself to the class and showed pictures of his family. As he had talked about what class would be like, Jordan perked up with curiosity. Apparently, Mr. Johns wanted his students to find ways to apply their writing in the real world and not just write for the sake of getting a grade in class. Assignments over the course of the year would be to write letters to loved ones or bosses or friends, submit poetry to magazines, enter state competitions, write for speeches at school, and create advertising lingo. Jordan had immediately wondered if she should show him the story about Mars she had been working on – could there possibly be anything in the real world that could be done with a story like mine? It’s not even very good anyways. And really, I’m just writing it for myself.
Right there in class, Jordan had begun to talk herself out of ever sharing the work into which she had put so much time and energy – the work into which she had poured her heart – the work which had helped her stay sane as her parents went to war leaving her to pick up the pieces and figure out life as a 7th grader by her self. No, she thought, my writing is for me and for me alone. It’s just so I can feel better. It’s so I can cope. It’s not for other people to read. And that’s that.
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Chapter 4 – [September 10, 2001]
It was a typical Monday morning. The dew clung to the grass in their picket-fenced yard like they did each day. The fog had lifted as usual later in the morning. Small droplets of rain came and went as the yellow bus bumped down the road. And the comments and slams aimed at the beautiful, brown-haired, long-legged, seventh grader continued full force.
“So tell me something, I was watching TV last night and there was this show about freakishly tall people – you know, like you.” This was said nonchalantly by Amber’s friend Nicole who had teamed up with her that day. “And every single one of those behemoths died like when they were 45 because their hearts and lungs couldn’t handle their girth….”
Sitting alone, Jordan was doing her best to ignore the two 8th grade bullies who had made her life at school miserable over first couple weeks. This truly had become normal behavior and all the other kids had learned to lay low, keep their heads down, or they risked becoming targets themselves!
“So what my dear friend’s trying to ask,” Amber chimed in, “is how do you feel about dying young? I mean – It’s inevitable you know – and we’re just curious about how you feel about it.”
Jordan was silent.
“Really Stems,” (that was her latest nickname) Nicole said, “we really care about you and we just want to know how much more time you have left with us.”
Jordan crossed her arms and twisted her body toward the window; wearing a skirt, this only highlighted the length of her legs unbeknownst to her. Willing the bus to arrive at school, she thought, Please, please, please! Please drive faster. Please let this be over. Naturally progressing, her mind wandered further, Why can’t I go back in time to when kids were normal? Why do things have to be so complicated? Why did I have to grow up? AND SO MUCH?!?.
“Look on the bright side Noodles, at least if the bus gets in a wreck your legs will save you; they’ve got you wedged so tightly in that seat, you might as well be wearing a seatbelt!” There was a smattering of laughter in general seating area.
Still nothing in response from the girl now smushed in the corner.
“Noodles, noodles noodles!!” Come out and play with us!!! We’re bored. C’mon Stems!” The girls coaxed in stereo, now trying to tickle Jordan’s exposed leg with hair ties like she was some kind of caged animal.
Today Jordan didn’t explode in flustered rage as she had in previous incidents – nor did anyone come to her rescue (which never had happened). Amber, Nicole, and the other bullies simply got bored. After she hadn’t given them anything with which to respond, they weren’t brash enough to do something outright painful that would cause long-term physical pain. Eventually they became distracted by a side conversation.
Please God, somehow, someway – take the focus away from ME. PLEASE!!!, Jordan thought.
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About 23 hours later, Jordan’s prayer had been realized in a most horrific manner. She didn’t make it to school that day nor would she for the duration of the week. Tuesday morning, she and her Mom sat in front of their living room 32” Panasonic tube television with eyes opened wide in stunned silence. Mindi and Jen were still asleep when Sally had run to wake Jordan up moments after the second plane hit at about 6am. The only noises that could be heard were the hum of the fridgerator, the frantic and confused news reporters on the screen, and the muffled chokes and whimpers of Jordan and Sally’s hushed crying. As was the case for most of the world that day, the Reynolds were in shock.
After absorbing the raw emotion of shock and sadness for a few minutes and trying to grasp the meaning of an intentional attack of some kind her country, Jordan’s mind shifted to fear: will there be more? Is dad ok? He left for work at 5:30 like he normally does so he might not even know about this. Are there going to be more attacks in Seattle? Is this just the beginning? She knew that his non-profit, Hope Seattle, was right downtown near many high buildings and could be in danger.
Even though it was in the early days of cell phones, Ted still had one and Sally had been ringing it all morning to no avail. It was either off, Ted was ignoring it, or something bad had happened. Over and over again, Sally called his number and attempted to appear calm – her hands shook slightly. She was as terrified as Jordan although she was trying not to wear it on her sleeve quite as obviously. Still in her 2-piece cotton pajamas, Jordan had developed large red blotches on her neck and face in response to her stress, she was sweating profusely down her back, neck, and on her forehead, and she seemed to be shaking as she cried.
Sally put her arm around Jordan as she continued to dial. The two cried and snotted and watched the TV in silence. It was then that Mindi entered the room.
“What’s wrong? Why are you guys crying?”
Sally quickly turned around; Jordan didn’t.
“Oh honey,” she wiped the snot from her nose and years with one swipe, “It’s ok. There was just….there was just….” She started to cry some more. “There was an accident in New York and I’m very sad about it.”
Mindi frowned and looked toward the TV. “Oh. Looks like a big accident.”
“It’s ok Mindi. It’s sad and a little scary, but it’s going to be ok.” Sally began to realize that her intensity of emotion may have seemed a little off given what was on the screen: just two burning buildings at that point. The truth was that she was crying out of fear, terrified that her husband was next or perhaps already had been killed, and that their entire way of life, entire country was going down the tube as they stood there together in the living room.
“Let’s go get you out of your night clothes and get some breakfast in your stomach.” Sally said with a little more empathy in her voice than was usual at that time in the morning.
Jordan remained in the room to watch.
When the phone rang, both Sally and Jordan’s hearts felt like they were going to beat out of their chests. It was a terrifying and exhilarating and nerve wracking wait to hear the voice on the other end – but when Sally heard Jordan’s friend Alex, her face fell and Jordan’s heart only beat faster. When she held out the phone to Jordan, the teenager felt confused, who could be calling other than dad?
“JJJJJJjjjordanIdon’tknowwhatI’mgggggoingtodooooSNIFFFJJJJordan?!?JJJOrdand?!didjewseetheTeeveeandtheplanesandthesmokeandHONKthefireandIdon’tknowwhatI’mgoing...”
It’ was a tidal wave of sounds and snorts consonants and vowels. Jordan could hardly make it out. “Alex? Is that you?”
“Jjjjjordani’msoscaredIcan’tstoptappingmyfeetandchewingmynailsandi’mnotusrewhattodowandikeeppacingalloverthehouseandidontknowwhattodoandI—momisallfreakedoutandshetookoffandnowi’mhereallaloneandidon’tknowwhattodo…”
“Take a breath Alex. Breathe.”
Alex had some serious issues from the last couple years before her dad moved out and went to drug and alcohol treatment. He used to beat her mom up all the time and Jordan was pretty sure he did stuff to Alex as well but she didn’t ever hear what. Whenever something bad happened – and sometimes when it didn’t, Alex got like this. She would just go hysterical and couldn’t cope at all. She wouldn’t be crying – not screaming – just vibrating with activity…and words. It approached a nervous breakdown or panic attack or something from Jordan’s 12-year-old point of view. In a few years, she would learn that Alex had developed PTSD from the years of chaos and abuse in her home. The goofy risk-taking personality that Alex exhibited, Jordan would learn, was also a coping mechanism for her PTSD – it gave her a certain amount of control over her own life and an upper hand on other people. Acute trauma experienced herself or vicariously through others could throw her into episodes like this. Jordan didn’t know that Alex had been hospitalized in the psychiatric ward more than once for these kinds of adverse reactions to trauma.
“Breathe Alex, you’re going to be ok. It’s going to be fine. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” She started saying rhythmically.
As Jordan said the words, she wasn’t even sure if she believed them to be true for herself, let alone anyone else. Were they going to be ok? Was dad ok? Why did he have to take off so early every day? Why couldn’t he stay home 20 extra minutes with our family? Why couldn’t help mom in the morning or eat breakfast with me or ask me how my day was? Why does he have to make his job the most important thing – and now – and now – is he dead because of his job?
Jordan started to cry as she held the phone. This whole time despite her pleads, Alex hadn’t stopped her incoherent ramble. When she heard Jordan crying, the monologue shifted to match and she began to sob as well. The two cried without solving anything or trading information or making a plan until “call waiting” beep started beeping on Jordan’s end of the line. Her heart started pounding intensely once again.
“Alex?”, she lurched out of her crying, “Alex? I need to go. I need to answer the other line. Come over to our house. Walk here. We’re all home. Don’t stay home alone. Leave a note for your mom. Come here now. I have to hang up. Come here now.”
Alex went back into her rambling but Jordan knew she had to answer the line waiting.
“Hello?”
“Jordan it’s me. I’m fine. Let me talk to mom.”
“DAAAD?!?!”
At the sound of Jordan’s exclamation, Sally nearly knocked her daughter over as she tore around the kitchen corner to take the phone away at which point she scurried off into the bedroom where yelling and scolding commenced. Jordan heard verbalized some of the lines of thought that had just gone through her own head.
“You should’ve been here!! …. I don’t care….we are terrified, come home right now….You don’t know; there might be more Ted!!!..... JUST COME HOME….I’ll come get you then……..FINE……..FINE!!!!....IF THAT’S HOW YOU WANT IT TO BE!!!.....FINE…!!!!!!!!”
Jordan heard a large smashing sound and then more crying, this time Jen’s added to the symphony. Now wasn’t the time to try to get out of helping mom out. Still crying herself and slightly trembling, she walked to the baby’s room to care of business. And it was from Jen & Mindi’s room as she changed the baby’s diaper that Jordan heard her mom shriek in terror…
The south tower had fallen.
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The day was full of anxiety and stress; the family of 4 stayed at home all day glued to the television and the events unfolding in the East. Sally, completely terrified, eventually succumbed to carrying it around externally. She insisted on keeping the windows closed, shades pulled, and lights off all day. She let out screams and shrieks at the slightest sounds like cars going by or dogs barking. She yelled angrily at her younger daughters when either became noisy or needy or irritable or unpredictable or…anything. Each of the girls fed off Sally’s fear and reflected it in their cooped-up household all day long making an already tense situation even tenser. Being small children, the two younger girls processed their fear by acting out, teasing one another, pining for attention, fighting, and clinging to security objects.
Jordan, for her part, felt even more pressure from her mom to help with care of her sisters. At the same time, she felt even more need to be cared for herself. I’m Scared TOO Mom! She kept thinking during the day. You’re not the only one who is upset with dad, you’re not the only one who is confused and worried. I’m just a little girl though. But by her appearance and age, she was growing up and Sally leaned on her all the more that day.
Alex never had come over to the Reynold’s house that day. Soon after her Ted’s phone call that morning, Alex called back a little calmer to say that her aunt had come to their home and that she didn’t to head over to the Reynolds. Jordan was happy Alex was ok and a little relieved to not have to worry about one more person in the house to look after.
Although Jordan had learned to cope (to some degree) with the stress in her home by writing, in truth it was a drop in the bucket. She wasn’t aware of how much her home life was affecting her at the time, and she certainly didn’t know how to process the high level of fear and drama in her house that morning – especially alone. Because writing was the only thing she had ever done to self-care, her mind was naturally drawn to it all day but because her mom leaned on her so hard for help, there was never a moment to get away. Little did Jordan know, this lack of ability to process what was going on in her life would come back to haunt her.
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Ted had treated it like a normal workday; apparently many people in the city had as well. A few staff from the shelter had gone home to their families after the towers fell but “the homeless people we serve don’t have anyone to go to, Sally”, he had said at one point during their debate once the younger two kids were in bed. At another point, it came out in the conversation that Melissa had also stayed behind in the shelter all day.
It was at that point that Jordan joined their conversation as a third party listener from the living room.
“What’du’you mean she was there today too?!? I thought you said you sent everyone else home!?!?”
“Melissa’s the project manager Sally, she plays an extremely important role at Hope, and besides, she’s dedicated to the cause and she wanted to stay.”
“Yeah I bet she did.” Sally said with a bit of snarkiness.
“What’s that supposed to mean Sally?”
“What do you think Ted?”
He looked at her with honest wonder. Does she think something’s going on between Melissa and I? Really? I mean, for God’s sake Sally.
“I’ve noticed how much time you’ve spent around her. I’ve noticed how you talk about her. I’ve noticed how you glow about your star leader. I bet she’s glowing for you too.” Sally was seething with fear and anger – she felt disgust for Ted and it was leaking through the way she only partially faced him as she spoke, the way her words slid off her tongue with little care or concern, and the scowl on her face.
“Sally…I…I don’t know what to say….” A long silence hung.
“SO you’re saying it’s TRUE then?”
“SALLY!!! NO!!! What’s gotten into you?!?!” Ted went on the attack. “I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with the company lately but this kind of accusation is beyond cruel – it’s beyond ridiculous. I WOULD NEVER…”, he started to choke up, “I would never do something like that to you and the kids. NEVER.”
Sally had turned her back to him and Jordan had moved to peer through the crack in the door from the shadows of the hallway.
“Sally, I realize this has been a hard season on you and the kids – it’s been hard on me too honestly. But that’s all it is…a season…a period in time. This isn’t the rest of our lives. Once I get some systems set up, I’ll be able to let Hope---“
She cut him off, “I’m so sick of hearing about Hope and your empty promises I could puke,” the condescension and contempt seething from between her teeth, “You’ve told me for years about your systems – you’ve promised us for years that you’ll be at gymnastics shows and orchestra concerts and spelling-bees – and you’ve missed the majority of them. Even when you’ve shown up, you’ve been late and missed your own kids; we’ve had to lie to them and trick them into thinking you were there.”
Her words stung. Her words were true though. He had said the same things before. And he had meant them. It just didn’t work out that way. Not wanting to concede, he pushed forward, “Listen, even if you’re right, it doesn’t mean you have the right to accuse me of cheating. That hurts Sally….that’s a low blow.”
“You’ve been cheating for years. Melissa or no Melissa. You’ve been cheating for years.”
At that, Ted grabbed his jacket, keys and wallet, and silently walked out of the room. He didn’t notice Jordan in the shadows who had scooted quietly in her socks toward the opposite end of the hall as she had heard the conversation drawing to a close. It wasn’t the first time he had failed to notice her. Ted calmly (all things considered) walked out of the back of the house and shut the door. The Chrysler minivan started and drove away.
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She had already been standing next to her bedroom door and she didn’t want her mom to know what she had overheard, so she just slipped in her room, silently closed it and crawled in bed still fully clothed. No writing tonight, Jordan thought, as she began to realize the degree of her emotional and physical exhaustion from the day.
Are Mom and Dad gonna be ok? Is Dad really having some kind of affair with Melissa? Are they gonna get divorced? What’s gonna happen in our country? Who would do this to us – who would attack us? She began to think about all the kids who’s moms and dads weren’t coming home that night because they went to work in the towers that morning. She thought about what it would be like to come home and not have her Mom or Dad.
She felt afraid. She felt sad. Most of all, she felt alone, more alone than she had felt in months. I’m not ready for this; I’m not ready to take care of myself.
She quietly started to weep.
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Chapter 5 – [September 12, 2001]
She had cried for a long time – perhaps over an hour. The events over the past day or two had been emotionally draining on a level she had yet to experience in her short life. Jordan’s parents were in what seemed to be a full scale war, her country was under attack from God knew whom (and from where and against whom the next one was to occur), her classmates at her so-called Christian school were unbelievably cruel and rude, her mom was dumping more and more weight and responsibility on her while at the same time removing care and nurture, her dad cared more about his career and organization than any member of his family, and her body was betraying her to womanhood. While any of these stressors might’ve been normal for an average 12-year-old girl, Jordan didn’t know how to cope and it was more than she could take. The previous night she had gone to bed simply overwhelmed and beyond exhausted.
After she had cried, the mental lights had gone out and there was simply nothing… No dreams, no pain, no movement, no tossing or turning…nothing. Out cold.
At about 5, her eyes opened. The sun hadn’t come up but she could see looking west over the front lawn out her bedroom window that dawn wasn’t far away. A solitary bird was chirping, apparently unaware of how dreadful her day was yesterday.
But of course that was yesterday and today was a brand new day. She rolled over into a new position and grabbed her favorite bear to snuggle on her side and that’s the dampness hit her – Wait…What’s that?...What the…?
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The conversation with Ted had left Sally deeply rattled. He walked out at about 8:30 and she had stayed up most the night fretting, crying, praying, reading, and talking to her mother on the phone. It had been horrible but also cathartic.
She began to see how her life had been shaped by fear – and how her fears had taken hold of her the day before. It concerned her greatly and she felt convicted to change. Fears for her daughters’ well being; fears for her husband’s fidelity; fears for her own health and relationships; fears for her salvation, fears for their finances; fears for her professional life; fears for her physical safety; the list went on and on and on. She thought about the way that she reacted to people and situations out of those fears and tore them down and damaged them. I want to react out of compassion and love, not fear. I want to be confident and strong and kind – not terrified. My kids and husband need that from me…
In addition, her commitment to be the best mother her kids deserved – the best mother she could be – was steeled. It doesn’t matter what Ted does or doesn’t do, what Ted can or can’t do, how Ted does or doesn’t pull through, I AM GOING TO BE THERE for them. I WILL be what I can be, she had sworn to herself.
One of the things that stuck out to her was Jordan’s puberty process and how much stress she seemed to be carrying around about it. Maybe I’m pushing her to be independent a little too quickly; she is only twelve years old. Maybe I need to listen to her a little more and let her have a say; maybe that’s even a way for her to demonstrate some independence, she had thought. Sally had stayed up late reading articles online and perusing a book she had been meaning to read on raising teenage girls and several pointed out how many feel quite alone during this period despite the way they sometimes push the adults in their lives away. Sally wondered if Jordan had been feeling alone – particularly with her dad’s hectic job schedule lately and the way she and her daughter hadn’t had time to really connect. The warmth and fondest for her eldest daughter grew in her heart; she began to feel a bit more compassion for the confusing and anxiety-filled stage of life she was entering. I don’t want to be the kind of mom that drifts away from her girls – that doesn’t understand them – that only knows her own world. God please help me to get better at this; help me improve; help me grow…”
As the night moved into early morning, Sally felt strangely prompted to peek into her oldest daughter’s room and check on her like she had done when she was just a baby. Nothing had happened (as far as she knew) to cause such an act of concern; but after the sleepless night and newfound commitment, she couldn’t wait to lay eyes on her girl.
Barefoot and wearing her white full length nightgown, Sally quietly opened her door and snuck down the hall. It couldn’t have been 2 minutes past 5am and she didn’t want to wake the other girls so she walked terribly slowly, careful to sneak past the squeaks in the floor she knew all too well. Creeping past the girls’ room on the left she finally came to Jordan’s at the end of the dark hall on the right, she reached for the handle and slowly opened it. Resting her left hand on the neatly painted door jam and her face near the face of the matching door, Sally cracked it open.
A surprising but not unusual odor greeted her – the pungent smell of ammonia.
Urine? Jordan?! Since when…? Oh, poor baby…
Sally’s heart broke for her daughter as what had happened couldn’t have been more obvious. The whole room reeked of the smell of stale pee. Jordan was no doubt soaked and she appeared still fast asleep. Immediately, Sally felt guilty for the ways in which she had piled on responsibilities and pulled back on attention and parenting. Poor girl…she must have been absorbing all of this…she probably hasn’t known what to do with it…maybe she even thought it was her fault…oh poor thing! As Sally processed the scene a single tear streamed down her cheek and her daughter rolled over clutching a teddy bear.
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Jordan didn’t see her mom peering in the door at first with her focus entirely on the wetness she felt all over her chest and stomach, crotch, legs, and rear end. As she woke a little more, she could smell it too. Pee?! It couldn’t have been more obvious, urine has a distinct odor especially after it’s been exposed to the open air for any length of time – and from what she could feel with her free left hand, there was a LOT of it.
Just as she was pulling back the covers to survey the damage, Jordan noticed the door move. Quickly (but reluctantly because they were so wet and -- gross) she pulled the covers back over her. It was Mom.
“Mom! What are you doing!?! Don’t you know how to knock!?” Jordan whispered in harsh tones.
“I’m really sorry sweetie, I was just checking on you this morning – I knew yesterday and last night were really hard and I just wanted to see you.” Sally decided to just tell the truth.
Touched, but feeling skeptical, Jordan whispered, “Mom you need to knock and isn’t it like 5 in the morning!?”
Opening the door a little further and getting her shoulders into the room, Sally could clearly smell the unmistakable odor of urine. “It’s early honey – but can’t a mom check on her girls?...”
Jordan almost cried. Her chin quivered. Her mom spoken with this kind of tender-loving-care to her in what seemed like an eternity.
Sally noticed. Stepping into the room slowly and inching toward Jordan, Sally began, “Look sweetheart, I want to say I’m sorry for putting so much weight on you lately to help around the house. It has been too much I know. I want you to grow up at your own pace – I want us to talk – I want to help you through this stage of life – I want to be there for you – I don’t want you to feel alone.”
Tears streaked down Jordan’s cheeks. Sitting on the bed now, Sally felt her own rear end get wet as she wrapped her right arm around her little girl’s back and wiped the tears from her eyes with her left hand.
“Now Jordie,” (Sally used to call her by that name when she was just a little girl), “when I poked my head in the room I didn’t expect you to be up at this hour – and now I think I know why you are…”
“Yeah…” Jordan didn’t know what else to say.
“Has this been happening a lot lately?” Sally asked with honest curiosity.
“No.” Jordan responded meekly. The way she said it broke Sally’s heart all the more.
“Well can I help you get cleaned up?”
At first Jordan wanted to say ‘No’, but then she thought about how nice it was to have her Mom’s thoughtful touch again and so meekly once again she replied, “...Yeah…”.
“Alright little one, let’s get these covers off.”
Standing up, Sally pulled the covers back to expose a great deluge of bodily fluid. Still wearing her clothes from the day (pants and t-shirt because she never made it school), Jordan was saturated from her upper ankles all the way to her armpits on the front and nearly as much on her back. Jordan sat up on the edge of her overstuffed bed and nearly came to equal her Mom’s diminutive 5’1”.
“Ok let’s get those wet clothes off.” Sally helped Jordan stand and delicately with fingertips peeled off the wet material. Because she was so much taller, Jordan had to bend at the waist and so she felt the shirt stick to her hair as it came off (which was really gross) and although she slightly embarrassed to be topless, she felt worse that she hadn’t been wearing the new bra her mom had made her pick out. Sally noticed but made no comment as she quickly grabbed Jordan a scuzzy looking towel that had been on the floor for Jordan to wrap around herself. This helped to make the removal of her pants, panties, and socks to be slightly less humiliating than it might otherwise be.
“Ok Jordie let’s go get cleaned up.” Sally grabbed her daughter by the hand and quietly led her out of the bedroom and just to the right into the small bathroom. If the lights had been on, it would have been an odd sight, the young girl towering over her mom being shyly led to the bathroom for the necessities. Leaving the light off, she turned on the water warm, put in the plug and helped Jordan into the tub. Taking Jordan’s covering, she said, “Ok, there you go, take your time. I’ll handle the rest.”
Naked as the day she was born in front of her mom, Jordan at first felt the urge to quickly cover herself but she withheld. The compassionate touch from her Mom was strangely comforting and unbelievably calming; she didn’t want to do anything to dissuade it from happening again. She quietly sat down in the tub in the dark and waited as the water filled. I can’t believe this is happening. Is this real? How can this be? I feel like I’m in a dream.
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About fifteen minutes later, Sally returned to the bathroom to find her daughter still lounging in the dark. She had pulled the shower curtain around the tub and added bubble bath – she probably has used up most of the hot water too, Sally thought, I guess she’s still a teenager!
“Ok honey, all taken care of. Sheets washed, Clothes washed, smell gone. Everything’s like new.” Sally sat on the floor of the bathroom, the door still open.
“Thanks…mom.” Jordan choked out, beginning to cry.
“Jordie, I want you to know that I think you’re a remarkable young woman and I will be here for you as long as you need me. I don’t want you to feel alone during this – or any time of your life.”
Jordan liked how her Mom had switched to calling her ‘Jordie.’ She continued to quietly cry. “What about Daddy?” she eventually quietly whimpered.
“Jordie, your Dad and I have been having some pretty difficult conversations lately that’s true. I’m sorry you’ve had to hear them and honestly I regret some of the things I’ve said – but I don’t want you to worry about that right now. Your Daddy loves you very very much and he’s trying to do his very best—“
Jordan cut her off, “No…I mean…,” looking down, she couldn’t even say it and started to cry some more, “…I mean…what about the reason I’m in this tub this morning…?”
She was as sweet as pie – Sally’s heart melted for her daughter. She was clearly growing up and up but she was also just a little girl inside. “Oh honey, we don’t have to tell anyone at all about this. It just happened one time and it’s all taken care of. It has been crazy stressful for you lately and you’re just overwhelmed. We’re going to find some ways for you to de-stress and relax and be a kid – grow up at your own pace… How about you stay home today?”
She nodded. Relieved, the girl behind the shower curtain continued soak and look straight ahead, tears streaming down her face. I hope this never happens again.
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Ted had spent the night at Hope among the single male clients. Despite what had happened between he and his wife the night before, he felt energized about the key importance of his work. He knew he had expertise that could be of assistance in New York City. His experience in organizing, housing, feeding, and clothing people without homes would be extremely helpful he was certain. With his connections to capital, he knew he could have a team on the ground with real supplies and support within days.
Ted knew he had to go.
On the morning of the twelfth, he was up early calling his directors, asking them to come in early. The team procured a large 18-wheeler for hauling supplies and had set a side-committee to work on stocking it. The team also quickly created a task force to travel across the country to offer their expertise in the search and recovery efforts and a skeleton team was elected to remain on standby in Seattle. Among the members who would travel was Ted himself and his key project manager Melissa.
The thought to call home didn’t cross his mind until after lunch – Sally didn’t answer. She’s probably still mad at me and honestly I can’t blame her. But really, she said some pretty terrible things to me as well. I’d say it’s pretty big of me to be the first to break the ice and then she won’t even pick up the phone? Niiiice!? Ted thought.
Thinking about the trip, Ted was super excited. These were the kinds of experiences he lived for: live, in-the-trenches service opportunities where he got to be eye-to-eye with people who were really suffering. He didn’t know how long he would be gone or what exactly would happen, but he knew that they would make a difference.
Although the truck ended up being ready by the end of the day, he knew he couldn’t leave his family without saying goodbye so he prepared himself for another violent exit as he went home to break the news.
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Despite what her Mom had said about Dad, Jordan was terribly distressed and disappointed with the news that he was going to New York. Besides being afraid that there might be another attack, she also simply missed her dad! The fact that her mom had been increasingly present in her life over the past few days since 9/11 had brought that out all the more.
Dad had come home on Wedesday evening all smiles and puppy-dogs acting like nothing ever happened (Of course the younger two girls were none-the-wiser). Jordan overheard him from her bedroom playing with her sisters before their bedtime and then telling stories in the living room. Part of that process was to tell them about his coming ‘work trip’ to begin the following morning. They took it in stride.
She knew she was next. He knocked and then came in her room. “Jordan?”
“Yeah Daddy?” She turned around from her computer chair, her story on the screen behind her.
“What are you working on there?”
“Oh nothing, just a story.”
“Oh! A story?! Like for a class?”
He doesn’t even know me, she thought. “No, I just like to write in my free time.”
“Oh…well, what’s it about?” He asked genuinely curious – and kicking himself for not paying enough attention to her to know that she had a hobby like this.
“Oh you probably wouldn’t be that interested – what’s up?” Just get this over with dad! she thought.
He didn’t know what to do with that answer but decided to take the ‘out’. “Well honey, you saw what happened in New York yesterday.”
“Yeah, why weren’t you here?”
“…um…well Daddy had to take care of some things at work – there were lots of people who needed me there---“
“We needed you here Daddy!”
This girl is too smart for her own good I swear. “Jordan, look, I’m sorry I wasn’t here and someday when you’re older I’ll explain it better to you – but the truth is that I had many many people depending on me yesterday and I couldn’t show up for all of them…” Crap! This isn’t going well, he thought, “Listen, what I need to tell you is that I’ve been put on a team that’s going
“Is Melissa going?”
“…What?!?” How does she even know that name? Has Sally been badmouthing me to her? What the fuck?
“Is – Melissa – going?”
“…Jordan, I don’t know where you heard that name, or what you’re trying to ask me by asking that question but---“
“Is – Melissa---”
“Yes. Melissa is going. She is the project manager at Hope Seattle and she is going. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Kay; have a good trip. Goodnight.” Jordan spun around in her chair and pretended to continue typing. Tears started falling immediately.
Please don’t hug me. Please don’t hug me Please don’t hug me, she thought to herself.
...Please come hug me; please come hug me; please say you’re not going. Please don’t go. Please stay. Please Daddy.
Shocked, humiliated, and cut to the heart, Ted turned and quietly shut his daughter’s door.
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Jordan’s alarm woke her on Friday morning at 7:15 and she jolted awake from a deep deep sleep. She immediately felt for her panties and as they had been the previous two nights, they were soaked, as were her sheets, pajamas, bedspread, and mattress. Because of her wet bed (and presumably underlying stress) on Wednesday, her mom let her stay home from school. The same was true on Thursday. Both days, they had told the other girls that Jordan wasn’t feeling well and the three had laid low at home – this in hopes that the nighttime accident(s) might stay between Jordan and her Mom. On this Friday morning however, she wasn’t so lucky. When she got up to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up at the relatively late hour of 7:15, her sister Mindi was on her way to the bathroom as well and they both converged in front of the door at the same time culminating in a collision. Mindi, although only 5, was old enough to feel and smell the urine on her older sister’s clothing.
“JORDAN!?!? Why are you all wet?!? Did you have an accident?!?!?! MOOOOOM!!!!! JORDAN PEEEED HER BED!!!!!” She turned and ran back down the hall toward her mom’s room to tattle.
Jordan was frozen in embarrassment.
“Mindi!! STOP IT YOU LITTLE SNOT!!!!”
“JORDAN PEED HER BED – JORDAN PEED HER BED” Mindi started to chant as she realized her older sister was embarrassed and getting defensive.
The older girl was quickly losing it and quickly turned and scrambled into the bathroom just as Sally popped her head into the hallway. Shushing the middle girl and ordering her into her bedroom to get changed, she made her way down the wood-clad hallway toward the bathroom carrying Jen the toddler.
“You ok Jordan?” she asked, knocking on the door. Glancing into Jordan’s bedroom, she could both see and smell the damage. Third night in a row. That mattress is going to be ruined pretty soon, she thought to herself.
No answer.
“Jordan are you ok honey? I’m coming in.” she knocked again and turned the handle. The door began to open. Peering in she saw her daughter sitting on the white tile floor in a white night shirt tinged yellow, face blotched red, and sobbing.
“Oh Jordie…” Sally was in an awkward spot because the baby Jen had been on edge all week and she knew if she set her down, there would be screaming and drama. She decided to take the risk and just took her in with her. Silently moving to the far wall of the bathroom she sat down on the floor next to her beautiful and slender girl, with the two year old on her opposite hip, none-the-wiser of the smells.
“Jordie I’m sorry this happened again. It’s just temporary I’m sure. And we will not tolerate any kind of teasing or that behavior in this house.”
She continued to cry. “…I feel like such a failure though…I feel like such a baby…I felt like I was growing up too fast and getting too big and like I wasn’t ready for everything but I didn’t want this!!!”
“Jordan you’re not a baby!! This happens to people all the time…”
“Oh yeah like who?”
Should I tell her? Maybe she already knows. No. There’s no way she would’ve asked like that if she already knew….hmmm….yes? no? Crap! I can't do it... “...Well…your sister for one. She’s been wetting the bed for five years straight now; every single night without letup. It’s kind of ironic that she’s the one to give you a hard time about one little accident---“
“THREE!!! And she’s FIVE! I’m TWELVE!”
“Listen honey, I’m positive it’s just temporary. It’s normal for teenagers as they go through stressful times and have releases of hormones and changes in their bodies. I guarantee. You’re not alone; and this is going to stop just as quickly as it started.”
“Well what if it doesn’t? What if my room starts stinking like Mindi’s? What if Alex finds out? What if this is still happening when I go on my 7th grade trip? What if this is still happening when I go to camp? Who’s going to want to be my friend if they find out about this? As it is, no one wants to be my friend already!!!”
“Jordie. Jordie. Jordie. Calm down. Take a breath. You’re gonna be fine. It isn’t gonna smell. We’re washing everything every day. No one is going to know. And besides, it’s gonna stop – probably tonight – anyways. Just relax. You’re fine sweetie. Now let’s get you out of those wet clothes and off to school before you miss the whole week.
School, Jordan thought, How am I ever going to explain why I was gone all this time to Alex? She’ll see right through me. She frowned.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 13, 2014 at 5:59 PM
Content: Chapter 6 – [September 23, 2001]
{Trigger Warning – mild descriptions of past tense childhood abuse}
Over the weeks following 9/11, Jordan got back to the normal flow of things at school. To her relief, it didn’t entirely return to the 'new normal' she had begun to experience so far that year however. For the time being, the prayer she had prayed on the bus several weeks prior (for the focus of everyone’s attention to shift away from her) had been answered in the most diabolical of ways. The terrorist attacks on the East coast seemed to change everything in Jordan's world: some for the better and some for the good - it was crazy. But nothing had stayed the same. Kids were nicer; she was peeing her pants like an infant all night; Mom was strangely affectionate and, well, motherly; Dad had more or less disappeared; the list went on and on. Jordan started questioning the whole concept of prayer: How could God do this to me like this? Is this how he really works? I feel like he's a giant trickster. Sure, the focus is off of me now but at what cost?! (She also had technically prayed for God to help her not grow up and take care of herself yet -- this was coming to pass as well)He can be such a sick bastard sometimes, she thought to herself guiltily.
Jordan’s Monday had started off wet on several levels and then incrementally improved from there. She had peed of course and then it rained on the walk to the bus stop -- getting her all wet again. Mom seemed to have truly turned a page in how she was treating the girls (and Jordan in particular) and dads absence actually brought a surprising level of peace to the household. When Amber called Jordan “Giraffe” in history class first thing in the morning, Mr. Charles overheard and went on the attack right in front of everyone. By the time he finished his lecture, Amber was the one in tears and the rest of the class was wide eyed with shock. He had gone on and on about how he and the other teachers weren’t going to tolerate that kind of nonsense anymore and that life was too short for kids at BCS not to behave like Christians to one another. While Jordan felt vindicated, she also felt a sense of foreboding for what might come behind closed doors – outside the vantage point and protection of the faculty. But all and all, it really seemed like most of her fellow classmates had turned a new leaf. Kids were smiling more - some of her old friends from sixth grade (now looking up to her) talked with her for the first time all year, and she felt a new sense of belonging and respect.
In English class, Mr. Johns introduced one of the competitions he, at the beginning of the year, had told the students might come along. It was a pretty big deal according to their teacher: a short-story competition for kids aged 12-16 sponsored by NPR. The top 3 chosen would have theirs recorded for playback on live radio! Although Jordan had sworn to herself at the beginning of the year never to share her work, the thought of winning this prize and getting the associated recognition excited her. I wonder if my story could possibly be good enough? I am only twelve years old and that’s the bottom of the age limit. Maybe I should let Mr. Johns read my story and he can tell me if it would be worth submitting…I’ve got to finish it first!!
On her way out of class, she decided to take a flyer off Mr. Johns’ desk. He noticed and said, “Thinking about entering something Jordan?”
“Oh…well…yeah…I guess so…yeah…”
“Jordan I’m happy to hear that, I’ve appreciated reading your work so far this year. I know we’ve only just got started but I think you really have some natural talent.” He smiled.
She was flabbergasted. It was a small enough school that it was no surprise that a teacher like Mr. Johns would know his student’s names by a month into the year, but that he was aware of her work was shocking. “R…r…really?”
“Of course girl! Give it a try!!!” The truth was that he hadn’t particularly noticed her skill but that is what teachers do to encourage uber-conscious and self-critical pre-teens. He figured she would enter something and it would be a good exercise for her confidence which obviously was lacking in the social-department.
“Well…ok…I actually have been working on a story this summer…maybe I’ll let you read it…” Her heart was beating almost as hard as it had been a couple weeks ago during the terrorist attacks.
Genuinely surprised, but not wanting to let on Mr. Johns replied, “Oh for sure! That’s great! Yeah, bring it by and I can help edit it and prepare it for submission. The deadline is November 15. All entries have to be postmarked no later than that date. Bring me what you’ve got as soon as possible and we can edit it together.” He smiled and then steeled his face to a stern glare, “NOW – get to class young lady!!” Smiling again he waved.
She smiled and headed off to PE with just a touch of hope in her heart.
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Ted had been in New York for about a week and a half and phone contact had been spotty to say the least. With all the emergency workers and military personnel near ground zero, cell phone lines and land lines were tied up and power itself was in and out. As far as he was concerned however, it went with the territory and he ate it up. He led his team with confidence, joy, and energy – they ended up providing ramshackle housing for hundreds of volunteers in the area there to help clean out rubble. His team fed thousands a day and encouraged tens of thousands more. Their expertise in relief work proved invaluable in supporting the workers who were on the scene first to begin clearing debris.
The longer he was there, the more disconnected he felt from his family back home in Seattle. The more he worked in tents on streets in the smoke and mud, the more at home he felt among his people, his employees, and Melissa. In a sense, Ted began questioning if Seattle was where he and his company even belonged. He seemed to be making such an amazing impact here – and clearly the amount of work and cleanup would continue into the months or even years – how could he consider going home before it was done?
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Back home, Jordan could sense the urgency in her Dad’s voice for the important work he was doing in New York and she felt proud of him. At the same time, he seemed to just not be “there” with her on the phone – and this wasn’t a new feeling, just exacerbated since he had been on this particular trip.
Sally felt similarly although it was more developed. Ted seemed absent because he was connecting so fully with Melissa. He was no doubt questioning his life back here in Seattle – he was so obviously and forcefully in need on the ground in the streets of New York City that he was considering how long he could stay and what he would have to say to his wife in order to extend the trip. She was preparing herself for the conversation that would undoubtedly come. But she also was preparing to have a different sort of response.
That Monday night, after a relatively long conversation with all the family, Sally told the kids she needed to talk to Ted privately at which point she moved to her own room and shut the door. Although it was late, she squelched the urge to ask Jordan to get Jen ready for bed but instead whispered to her to flip on the Disney channel.
In the bedroom, she said to her husband, “We need to talk about something that’s been happening since you’ve been gone Ted.”
Nervously he answered, “Oh? What’s that?”
“Ever since the night of the attack, Jordan’s been wetting the bed. Every night.”
“Oh. That’s it? I thought you were going to tell---“
“Shut up Ted, this is a big deal. It’s a big deal to her; and it’s indicative of the stress level in our home. She doesn’t know how to process all the conflict she can sense between us; I think she’s having trouble with friends at school; I’ve been putting pressure on her to help me around the house because you’re gone with work so much; and finally with the attacks, she just snapped – and now we have Noah’s flood every morning.”
“Well can’t you just give her some of Mindi’s things until it passes?”
“TED! I don’t want to mortify the poor girl! She’s stressed out and traumatized enough! When I took her shopping – the shopping you were supposed to do with her, she nearly had a coronary when I suggested she try on a bra! Now that’s something every girl her age starts wearing at some point. Now imagine I suggest she starts wearing her 5 year old sister’s pullups! That’s gonna go over real well…”
“Ok, Ok, Ok…So if you don’t want my solution, why are you telling me this?”
“Ted, we need to work on our marriage…we need to fix this. Jordan’s bedwetting is just a symptom. It’s telling us something. We are in trouble.”
The line was very quiet.
“Ted?”
Sally could hear him breathing.
“I’ve got to go Sally.” The phone clicked. And that was it.
Dumbfounded and outraged, Sally redialed his number. Voicemail. What the fuck!!! BASTARD!! She was probably getting him off right then and there as I was talking to him on the phone. Fucking asshole! She couldn’t help but process vivid scenes and judgments through her mind.
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While her mom put the girls to bed, Jordan spent some time working on her story, it had been more than a few days since she had dedicated any time at all to the tale and now that she had committed to entering it into the NPR competition, she wanted to think through the plotline before putting anymore paragraphs together.
SO – Father and son travel to Mars – meet alien race who have been marooned, scratch that, abandoned there by their own people – how should the story end? Hmmm. Maybe son and dad are having problems of their own? Maybe the son feels like I do – forced to grow up a little too quick and so he’s all alone – so he relates really well with the aliens. Maybe he’s the one who sides with them and convinces his dad that they should try to intervene. As he does, and as they work together to fix their broken ship and facilitate a miraculous alien exit, he realizes that his dad hasn’t abandoned him, but that he has been with him all along. Yes! This is gonna be amazing!!!
Just then, Jordan heard a knock on her door. Nearly an hour had passed although it felt like only five minutes. “Come in Mom.” She left her computer monitor on and turned around.
The door opened and her mom poked her head in before finding a seat on her daughter’s bed.
“How are you doing Jordan?” Sally knew this conversation wasn’t going to be fun.
“Fiiiieeene….” Jordan responded quizzically.
“Well it’s been almost two weeks now honey – and you haven’t had a dry night yet.”
“I know…and…” Jordan wasn’t dumb. She had been dreading this too.
“Well, I am worried about this poor mattress and so I bought this plastic sheet to put on the bed. I don’t want you to feel like a toddler or something Jordan but I just feel like it’s a waste to destroy a perfectly good mattress.”
A look of embarrassment with a tinge of relief came over Jordan’s face as it turned red. “...uuuu...o...ook…Mom…”.
“Listen, I’ll continue to wash your things whenever it happens and I’m sure it will slow down anytime. We don’t want to have any smell in your room. Can you come tell me when you have had an accident though? I’m not sure I can keep track the whole who's wet or not wet in the whole house with 100% accuracy. I don't want you to be embarrassed Jordie but I also don't want this mattress to get wrecked either. Will that feel like too much pressure on you right now? Can I count on you to follow through?”
“Nnn…nn…no…I think I can d…do that Mom.”
Sally got up and reached into the hall and grabbed the store sack waiting outside. The sheet was thick, white and crinkly with a large zipper down one side. When Sally and Jordan got all the sheets and bedpad of the mattress, the teenager was able to see the extent of her bodily fluids: large yellow/brown stains were already forming in circlets on the mattress (and she could smell it too). “Here we go honey, help me get this on, it covers it all around and will help with the smell too.”
The two wrestled with the mattress for several minutes before the cover was on the mattress as well as matching covers on the pillows. After that, the two got the sheets and bedding repositioned and the few stuffed animals back in place. Everything looked normal once again. But when Jordan sat down on the bed, the crinkle and feel was unmistakable. She couldn’t help but bow her head and cry. “I feel like such a baby.”
“Jordie dear, this is just a temporary thing that will be gone in no time. You are growing into a beautiful woman and this will end up being a blip on the radar. Why do you think they sell these things at WalMart? Is it because it’s super rare that people need them? Nope! They sell them there because it’s super common! Now get your butt ready for bed.”
With that, she gave her daughter a hug and got up and walked out of the room.
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With the lights out and lying in bed on the crinkly plastic surface, Jordan decided to call her friend Alex. They had of course hung out since 9/11 and she had seemed to recover from her meltdown that day but Jordan had felt awkward around her. Although Jordan had been afraid Alex was going to be suspicious of all the school she missed the week of 9/11, as it turned out, Alex missed the rest of the week as well for her own reasons.
Jordan didn’t really know what to say about what had happened – or even if Alex had remembered what happened. The two talked for a long time that night: about the mood of the school, about how things had changed after the attack, about the coming competition and Jordan’s entry, about Joe Michael, and Alex’s Volleyball team.
Eventually, Jordan drummed up enough courage to ask Alex about what had caused her to ‘freak out’ like that on the pone. A long silence ensued before either said anything.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Jordan tried to rescue the awkward moment.
“No it’s ok Jordan. Really. I’m just trying to think about how to say this…. Before my dad went to treatment this summer, things were really bad at home. He came home drunk almost every day – sometimes he never left – and when he was drinking he was so so so awful—“
“But I thought your dad was like a doctor or something?”
“Well it’s a pretty big secret in our house – no one was supposed to know because if they did then he couldn’t work anymore or something. But I don’t know, it’s weird, it’s like he could just flip a switch and be fine the next day or a few hours later – and then just be this total monster at home. One time he locked my mom and I outside our house all night. We couldn’t call anyone to stay over because then they’d know about his problem so we just slept with the dog.”
“Wait – Alex – what? You slept outside all night? With the dog?”
Alex was crying softly and sniffing now. “You don’t even know Jordan – that’s the least that’s happened. He's beat my mom up so many times – I can’t even tell you…But it’s like we can’t tell anyone because if anyone knows or hears about it, he’ll lose his job and we’ll have to move out and I won’t be able to go to school -- and my mom doesn’t even have a degree or anything and what’ll we do?” She was crying even harder…
Jordan was beginning to grasp – as well as a twelve year old could – how much the trauma of this kind of abuse had affected her friend. In some ways she could relate to the chaos at home but in other ways she couldn’t imagine what it would be like. She felt horrible. As the conversation winded down, Jordan wondered if she should to tell her friend about her recent bed-wetting episodes as a kind of 'payback' for the way Alex had opened up to her. She went around and around in her mind as Alex continued to drone on and on about her experiences. Finally Jordan elected to keep it to herself. Now isn’t the time, she decided, this just isn't the same kind of thing, Alex won'w understand. The two hung up and Jordan felt herself feeling grateful for such an Amazing person to call ‘friend’ once again.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 14, 2014 at 3:53 PM
Content:
cm90210 said:
I concur. Thanks for the update. I'm diggin' this. Well written.
Slow/methodically going - but I prefer a longer tale so my only hope is that you are able to finish it
[End of quote]
Thanks! Me too! My favorite stories of all time are ones that last a long time and progress slowly introducing aspects of diapers and ABDL little by little. I have it mapped out in detail through chapter 20 and the end of the summer following Jordan's 7th grade year (and written several chapters ahead of what I've got posted here -- just want to make sure it's edited). My original idea was to have "Part 2" be her High School years -- and I have lots of ideas for that as well; but I'm not sure about Jordan's 8th grade year...If I should jump ahead in leaps and bounds or progress a little more slowly before arriving in "Part 2".
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KiwiBoi said:
Brilliant. One of the best for a long time. I love the plot and development, and hope to see it finished too. Keep it up.
[End of quote]
Thank you :biggrin:
In addition to Long and slow stories, I love ones where I get attached to characters and interested in their relationships and problems. Hopefully this'll happen over time more and more with mine. Thanks for the encouragement!
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Chapter 7 – [October 31, 2001]
It was the week of Halloween and the bedwetting hadn’t let up since September. Night after night with hardly a break Jordan had saturated her sheets and bedding. Morning after morning, her Mom had come in and either helped her get changed and into the bath or simply taken care of the laundry if Jordan had already gotten up herself. On more than a few days, the pre-teen had forgotten to alert Sally of the mess and had skipped off to school with wet sheets on the bed only to be discovered later. Although Sally was doing her very best to stay patient with her, it was becoming more and more difficult not to think of her the adult she resembled. That Monday, Sally had made an appointment for Jordan to see her OB/GYN physician for her first feminine checkup. It’s time, she had thought to herself, and besides, maybe he can give us some advice on this bedwetting problem on the same visit; it’s gone on long enough! The appointment was for two days after Halloween, Friday morning.
Ted had told Sally he’d be home from his lengthy relief trip to Ground Zero in New York early on Halloween morning and planned to take the kids out trick-or-treating. Some people from their church were boycotting the holiday but each of the Reynold’s parents’ families participated when they were younger and had never deprived their children of the fun. Sensing the ongoing distance Ted had put in their relationship over the course of his trip, Sally couldn’t help but feel as though there could be another Halloween surprise in store that evening.
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The bad news for Jordan on Halloween was that her bed was wet yet again. However, because it was becoming the norm, it wasn’t such a frightening experience on the day of horrors. It had happened 42 times since the Twin Towers fell and she hadn’t had 2 dry nights in a row. On the bright side, she had completed short-story about Mars the previous night at about 1am and given it the title “Together in Space”. She felt proud, excited, and yet mildly apprehensive about showing it to Mr. Johns for the first time. He said he likes my work; but what if he doesn’t like THIS? What if I really actually suck at writing? What if he tells me I’m no good? What if he doesn’t want me to enter it?
The stream of self-doubt was jarred loose by a knock at her door. She hadn’t yet made it out of bed or changed out of her wet sleep-shorts or shirt and this morning the pee had made it all the way into her hair (!?!). Looking up from her slightly damp but crinkly plastic pillow, she realized it wasn’t Mom at the door but Dad!
Reacting in embarrassment and fear rather than excitement, she pulled her blankets up to try to cover her shameful state. “Good morning honey,” he said.
“Morning…Daddy…” she mumbled through clenched teeth from behind her covers.
“...Jordie…it’s ok honey…I know about what’s been happening at night…” (Little did Jordan realize -- the obvious smell of ammonia was too overpowering to ignore anyways).
She didn’t know what to say. I thought Mom said she was going to keep it a secret…
“Jordan listen, Mom told me because she was concerned about you and about all the stress you were feeling here at home. I’m sorry if you’re embarrassed – I just wanted to come say good morning…”
“…okay…” She wasn’t surrounding any more information to this man who seemed to so distant. She looked at him as if to will him out the door.
“Well I’m back now from New York. We did a lot of good. I hope you understand why I had to go….”
“…yeah…” she looked at him pleadingly.
“…uh…I’ll let you get up and get ready.”
“Thanks.”
Well that was awkward. And what was it all about anyways? Jordan thought.
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Jordan had been so caught up in her writing and the stress of her bedwetting that she hadn’t put much thought into a Halloween costume this year so she decided to go as a ghost. An old retired sheet was good enough for her. She deftly cut holes out for her eyes and that was that. Mindi (surprise, surprise) went as a princess and the baby was dressed as a Puppy. The neighborhood near their house was full of homes ready and willing for trick-or-treaters so the four set off in the immediate vicinity. For an inexplicable reason from Jordan’s perspective, Sally stayed at home.
At one point during the evening, Mindi scampered up a long pathway to someone’s house and Ted began talking strangely to Jordan. “You know Jordan, sometimes adults like to try new things. You know how you like to go to the mall and try on clothes? (he didn’t wait for her to tell him ‘no’) Well adults like to do that sometimes too…” After what seemed like an eternal monologue about clothing, fast food, bubblegum, and hot dogs, he finally got to his point: which was that he was going to move out to an apartment in Belltown, a trendy neighborhood in downtown Seattle just around the corner from Hope.
This made Jordan’s heart pound once again – harder than she had ever felt it. Her face turned red under the ghost sheet. Her skin began to sweat. Tears formed in her eyes. She had had no idea this was where his odd story was headed. She knew he had been distant. She knew he had been over in New York with his team. She knew Melissa had been there with him. She knew he and Mom hadn’t been doing well. But this?
She didn’t know how to respond and he took her silence for tacit support. “In all honesty honey, we’ll probably move right back in together and it’ll be just like old times in no time. Who knows? We just need some time to figure things out.”
Jordan’s head was spinning. She didn’t trust him. She wanted to run. She didn’t believe anything he was saying. Full of feelings of betrayal and anger and sadness, all she could do was cry silently under her sheet. Once again she felt utterly alone – and completely unseen.
-----------------
Later that evening when she ran into Alex on the sidewalk, Jordan grabbed her unsuspecting friend and pulled her into a driveway behind an SUV and quickly relayed the whole story while the girls and her Dad went on ahead. Alex wasn’t nearly as dismayed as Jordan thought she ought to be. Alex no doubt listened and seemed to recognize that this was painful for Jordan but as a twelve-year-old herself, it was simply too difficult for her to break away from her own world long enough to deeply empathize with other human beings. Jordan had the same immaturity although she wasn’t herself aware if it. Never-the-less it was a painful realization: Wow. I feel like I’m losing everyone…a real life horror story.
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Sally came to Jordan’s room that evening to talk. She had wanted to tell her about Ted’s decision (it was unilateral) to move out. He had insisted on presenting it to Jordan it as a mutual one – and on his own terms during the Halloween walk.
Sitting on her bed Sally began, “Jordie I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I don’t want to drag you into the middle of this – it isn’t about you – it isn’t your fault and you didn’t cause any of it. I don’t’ want you to carry around the weight of this on your shoulders. Okay?”
“K.” Jordan pushed out through clenched teeth.
“Your dad is going to move out for a week or two to figure some things out and he’ll be back lickity split---“
“But he’s just been gone for 5 weeks…didn’t he figure out what he needs to during that time?”
She has a point, Sally thought, For God’s sake, why does this child have to be so smart? Should I tell her? Should she know about it? Is it her right? What’s appropriate Here?
“Listen Jordie, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but I want this to make a little more sense to you – dad told me he’s been having sex with Melissa. You remember we talked about what sex is when you asked where babies come from a couple years ago right?”
“Mom! I know what sex is!” (the truth was that she had only sort of a vague idea that it involved guys' and girls' private parts, that it was a big deal, and from her upbringing that it was only supposed to happen between married people) “And WHAT!??!”
“That’s all I know. Your dad came home and said he needs some time to decide if he’s in love with her and that he’s moving out. I told him that I’d rather not he move out; but I’m obviously really hurt and angry by what he’s done… I’m not going to tell you any more Jordan and It’s probably not appropriate that I’ve told you this much but it’s the truth.”
Jordan felt completely enraged and at the same time completely betrayed. “I…I…I can’t believe this…I can’t…he just…I…” She shook her head and stared straight at her open maw of a messy closet across the room. Sally put her arm around her.
They sat in silence for a long time and Sally motherly caressed her back and neck. Eventually she said, “It’s time to go to bed by dear; you need your sleep.”
As she crawled under her white comforter and Sally clicked off the lights, Jordan thought about the new Halloween horror to be added to the mix. When is this gonna end? I’m not praying one more time for God to put a stop to it though; he just makes it worse!!
-------------------
In the morning, Jordan woke up wet (as what was becoming the usual). This time however, she fairly quickly noticed an unusual (and foul) odor. Confused, she pulled up the covers to look and the odor became overpowering.
What the hell?!? Am I pooping the bed too now?
She sat up and peered down between her legs. Along with the normal circles of wetness surrounding her and running up her chest, she saw streaks and blotches of dark brownish red; the obvious source of the smell. Pulling down the front of her panties, she saw even more of the disgusting substance. Being dark in her room, she didn't get much more input other than: smells, brownish, icky, in my underwear....
OH. MY. GOSH. What is happening to me?!?! Why is my body doing this?! I've had diarrhea overnight now!!
“MOOOOM!!!”, she cried out and sat there in bed frozen; not knowing what to do next.
Moment’s later, Sally popped her head in the door – only barely noticing the odor that had initiated her daughter's distress but clearly seeing Jordan's face and body language sitting bolt upright in bed, covers up, and staring toward her crotch, Sally judged that it most likely had to be from one cause. Oh Lord, When it rains it pours! She thought.
Jordan had begun her first period overnight in addition to her nightly wetting. I’m not sure I can take this anymore, Sally thought as she confidently moved to her daughter’s bed.
“Oh honey, you’re gonna be just fine.” She smiled.
Pulling the covers off her frightened daughter she thought, this truly is a Halloween horror show.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 15, 2014 at 3:38 PM
Content: Chapter 8 – [November 2, 2001]
The nightmarish discovery was made still early in the morning. Despite Jordan’s fearful bellows to her Mom, the younger girls miraculously hadn’t woken up. As showered, Sally slipped into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, slightly around the corner from the shower/tub combo.
“Jordie?”
“Yeah?”
“We need to talk.”
“…Uh…ok…”
“So what do you think happened last night...in your bed I mean...?”
“…um...well…I guess…Um…I pooped the bed? Or had diarrhea or something?”
Sally almost laughed out loud. Oh how cute. She smiled. “Listen honey, it wasn’t poop so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“What?” She poked her head out of the shower curtain. “Well what was it then?”
“Jordan! It was blood.” Sally said almost correctively.
A look of complete confusion came across Jordan's face.
How could this child not know about periods at her age? I thought we had talked to her about ‘the time of the month’ years ago?! Didn't we go on that long weekend thing a couple years ago where we told her all about the birds and the bees and whatnot? Hasn’t she talked about this in health class at school? Sally processed in her mind.
“Jordan do you remember when we talked about sex and babies and penises and vulvas and condoms and everything – and how at the same time we talked about how women get ‘their time of the month’?”
“Well yeah…” Jordan replied now almost incredulously for this was a phrase she knew.
“Jordan – last night you had the beginning of your very first first ‘time of the month’...”
But now, shock poured across face with the warm water. Although this time it was hidden inside the shower curtain.
“Wait, I thought ‘time of the month’ just meant a few days when women get cranky. That’s what you said mom; it’s a few days when women get cranky…. Now you’re telling me it’s different? Momma!?!”
Oh Jeez; what did we do to this poor creature?! Dear God forgive me.
“Well crankiness can be part of it Jordie, but the primary symptom that takes place is bleeding… You bleed between your legs – from your vagina.”
“Like from where I pee?” She asked genuinely confused.
Oh for God’s sake. She’s becoming more childlike by the second. “No, from the vagina, that’s the other opening down there…”
“I have more than one?”
Christ! Am I really doing this? Is this really happening right now?!
“Jordan, I'm not gonna give an anatomy lesson to you here in the bathroom but if you want me to get you some pictures or something, I can. Really you just need to check things out down there for yourself and you’ll see what you’ve got. There’s nothing wrong with being a little curious. But yes – you have more than one opening….and the blood comes from the same place a baby will eventually come if you ever get pregnant.”
“Ew. Gross!” Jordan frowned, trying not to look down.
“Well it can be – but it’s also pretty amazing too… And it’s just part of being a young woman….Now – we need to talk some about we women cope with this stuff.”
Jordan turned off the water but left the curtain closed. “Can I have a towel?” Sally tossed one over.
“Different women use different kinds of products to absorb the blood. Periods can last 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 days – sometimes more even. You never know; it’s different for everyone. And while it might be nice to just shut your life down and stay in bed that whole time, we can’t do that in the modern world.”
Opening the curtain, Jordan stepped out with towel wrapped around her. It went through Sally's mind that it was curious how her daughter's modesty had ebbed and flowed through this bedwetting episode. She didn't blame her today for being a little skiddish.
Sally went on to describe different options for feminine products and even showed her daughter her own master bathroom drawer full of such supplies. In genuine wonder, Jordan took several items and thanked her Mom for the tips and assistance. Sally had told that they would go shopping together and that Jordan could pick out whatever she wanted after she had got a feel for what she liked.
“Before you go Jordan, we need to talk about a different kind of protection.” The pre-teen wasn’t expecting this – but she hadn’t been expecting the other conversation either so she listened with curiosity.
“A few weeks ago, we made an agreement that you would come and tell me when you had wet in the night so I would be sure to take care of laundering your bedding and pajamas. As we both know, some of the time I get you up and help you get changed and showered in the morning and obviously on those days I know when you’re wet or not. Other days, you’ve been getting up on your own and very often, you’ve been forgetting your end of the agreement. On three days just this past week, I’ve gone into your room after you've left for school to find your bed soaking wet. Now listen…I took care of it; I washed stuff…but this isn’t gonna work long term. Your room is starting to smell already and if you have friends over they’re gonna know; our washer is gonna wear out early and that isn’t gonna be cheap; and your bedding is gonna to have to be replaced. We need a better solution than this…”
Jordan listened – letting her Mom’s words sink in – trying to grasp the implications.
“And now that you’re bleeding on top of the wetting, sheets are straight up going to be ruined. It's a waste dear. So here’s what's gonna happen Jordie sweetie – until you can be dry at night for a while, you’re gonna start wearing pull-ups to bed.”
The word was like a drumbeat from hell. PULL-UPS.
Pull-ups? Pull-ups? Why don’t you just say DIAPERS Mom? She thought as she turned red and began to sweat on her forehead. Her heart thumped in her chest uncontrollably -- which seemed like an odd reaction to Jordan at the time actually.
Noticing the redness and sweat immediately, “I knew you weren’t going to like this idea but it’s the best one we’ve got at this point. No one has to know and I’m going to expect you to deal with it like a young woman. If you need help, I’ll help you. But this is how it’s gonna be…OK?”
“Kay.” She said through clenched teeth.
“Now. One more thing – earlier this week I made an appointment for you to see my doctor. The appointment with Dr. Yepp is for tomorrow...”
“Moooom! I DON’T want to go see the doctor about this stuff!”
“Listen Jordan. Every woman has to go to the lady doctor – it’s part of the territory. Your bedwetting needs to be evaluated anyways and now that you’ve started having periods, you're ready for feminine exams. We’ve been assuming the wetting is all emotionally driven which I still think it is, but there’s always the possibility something medially is wrong. It’s been going on long enough and we need you to get checked out. Since Dad is back, he’s taking off work and you are taking off school tomorrow to go with me to see the doctor.”
Ugh, Jordan thought, pee, blood, pads, diapers, and now a girl doctor? I hate growing into a woman!
----------------------
Jordan and her mom sat in the sterile smelling doctor’s office side by side. Small rows of flowers decorated the wallpaper on the waiting room walls and the coffee tables were covered with parenting and pregnancy magazines. Women of all sizes and ages walked in and out of the office and waited alongside the pair in the pink space.
The previous afternoon, Jordan had told her best friend Alex about getting her first period and she had been ecstatic.
“REALLY?!?!? I’m so happy for you! Are you sore? Do you have cramps? What does it feel like? Did you try to use a tampon? What about PMS – do you feel like a bitch?!”
“Honestly Alex I wish you could have it and not me,” Jordan had complained. She couldn’t understand why Alex was so curious and excited about it – or how she knew so much about the topic even.
Sitting in the doctor’s office, Jordan wished she could crawl under the chair, hide, and die. The last thing she wanted anyone to do was to look at her privates right now. The previous night her mom had given her one of Mindi’s pull-ups blindly assuming that the fit would be universal. But on the 5’8” 145lb young woman with widening hips, a 5 year old’s size 2T pull-up was hardly a match. Jordan complained that it wasn't going to work and the sides started ripping immediately as she got it on and into bed. Her mom dismissed the complaints as excuses to get out of wearing the undergarment and marched off to take care of the other girls. That Friday morning, Jordan had been greeted by a pull-up completely torn on one side, almost dry, and a bed full of urine and blood. It was an almost useless appliance.
Sally herself had seen the damage when she went in to wake her daughter. Mercy, I guess she wasn’t just trying B.S. me with all that complaining. I’ll have to go find her a bigger size, Sally had thought.
“Jordan Reynolds?” The nurse called out into the room full of women.
Jordan and Sally stood up and walked toward the smiling lady at the open door. She introduced herself as Anne and took Jordan’s weight and height before guiding the pair to a room.
“Alright, I need you to take everything off and put on this gown.” she said handing Jordan what appeared to be a disposable tablecloth.
Jordan did a double take at the paper garment and looked back at her Mom to verify that she hadn't been misled with the request.
“Sorry honey but this is what we women have to go through for the joy of getting to bring babies into the world. Super -- Right?”
Jordan muscled out a smile.
The details of the examination were a blur to Jordan. The whole experience was terribly surreal and embarrassing. She recalled moments that hurt and others with odd sensations and pressures. Luckily her mom did the majority of the talking. She vaguely remembered the doctor giving all kinds of information about STDs and having sex and condoms and pregnancy and things that seemed totally irrelevant to her life. But when her mom started taking about bedwetting and "protection" such as diapers, Jordan’s attention was drawn a little more forward; part of her wanted to scream and stop her mom from telling all these personal details form her life – but it was too late.
“Well Jordan, you need to know that enuresis (that’s the medical term for bedwetting) is very common for kids – and although it becomes less common the older kids get, you should know that given the odds, in a school the size of yours (500), upwards of 30 or 40 students wet their beds and possibly more. You are by no means alone.”
Jordan didn’t respond. The information was helpful and interesting but at that moment, she was still sitting on an exam table essentially naked in front of a stranger in a paper robe.
“Many things can cause the kind of problem you’ve been experiencing and so far – I haven’t noticed anything in your exam that leads me to feel suspicious. We’ll have you leave a urine specimen before you leave but I suspect that will be clear.”
She nodded.
“One thing I noticed is that your tonsils are rather enlarged which in children can sometimes indicate Sleep Apnea; and Sleep Apnea can be one cause of bedwetting although it is odd that it would have such an immediate onset. However, I’d still like to have you do a sleep study just to clear that as a possible cause.”
That sounded interesting but still – Paper gown!!.
“Now – to manage your symptoms in the meantime, there are several options available. One of the most common is to simply set an alarm to wake you up say 2 or 3 times each night to go to the bathroom.”
Oh that sounds fantastic, Jordan thought.
“Others choose to limit liquids in the evenings and for sure choosing not to drink anything with caffeine after say 2pm, will be a good bet. An besides, a girl your age shouldn’t be drinking caffeine much anyways. Some patients have found some success with certain medications although it seems to be more helpful with younger individuals and since I suspect that Apnea might be an underlying cause, it doesn’t seem like starting a regime would make much sense at this point.”
Jordan forced a nod, still terribly uncomfortable.
“Finally, many patients treat their symptoms by doing some combination of those things while also wearing some sort of protective undergarment. That’s up to you and your mom to decide but it’s an option that’s available and there are good products on the market today.”
Sally chimed in, “Actually doctor, we’ve already started down that path as of last night.”
“I think that's more than reasonable at this point. Now, for the sleep study, you’ll come into the hospital in a couple weeks or so and stay overnight. The technicians will put a whole array of wires and electrodes all over your head and chest and arms and neck and through them, we’ll monitor your sleep and determine if you quit breathing during the night. If you do, that's what we call sleep apnea and it may be causing your wetting.”
That got her attention. “Wait -- I have to come sleep at the hospital overnight?”
“Well, yes. That’s how we get all the data about your sleep cycles.”
“But what if I wet while I’m here?”
“Oh I assure you Jordan, we’ve seen everything; it's perfectly normal. Not to worry."
But she did. And with the study just 2 weeks away, she had plenty of time to fret.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 16, 2014 at 7:51 PM
Content: Another update here and you may have noticed that I went back and edited chapter 8 for some grammar and sentence structure issues...
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Chapter 9 – [November 2-15, 2001]
On the way home from the Doctor’s office, Sally and Jordan stopped at Fred Meyer to look for a larger size of pull-ups for Jordan. It was still mid-Friday morning and so the young girl knew most of her peers were at school but she nevertheless felt terrified that someone would see them shopping for the babyish items.
The store was located down by the canal connecting Lake Union to the Puget Sound. It was a pretty area of the city – almost industrial on first glance with a great deal of small workshops and boat yards and auto repair garages – yet it also had a cute commercial district with sidewalks and lampposts and newly planted shrubbery to accompany condos and apartment buildings under construction.
When they entered, Sally walked straight toward the “Diapers and Baby Care” aisle which was located directly in the center of the store. Jordan followed sheepishly behind staring down at her shoes and the white tiled floor. Sally pushed no cart and carried no basket as the focus of her visit was solitary: bedwetting supplies for her daughter. As they walked down the aisle, Jordan saw the myriad of brands and sizes of diapers and she felt embarrassed to be in that section of the store – and FOR HER!!! Scanning the shelves of Pampers, Huggies, and generic brand diapers, Sally finally saw what she was looking for: the largest size of Pull-ups available. Reaching out to grab the brightly colored pink package complete with Disney’s Minnie Mouse, she read out loud, “4T-5T 38-50 pounds. Hmm…. How much did they say you weighed at the doctor’s office this morning dear 146.5?”
“MOOOM!?!?”
“Jordan! I saw how you tore Mindi’s Pull-Up to pieces last night – you need something bigger and I’m trying to figure that out for you. She uses 2T so I bet these ones will stretch to your size much better…”
“You don’t have to shout it for the world to hear though!!” Jordan barked defensively, turning red from the neck up. If she could’ve melted into a puddle, she would’ve done it.
“Ok then, let’s go.” Turning toward the front, the two made their way to the register carrying the humiliating product.
Without saying a word but giving Jordan a knowing smile, the checker put the pink package in a plastic sack and gave Sally the total. She paid and the two exited – no worse for wear – and surprisingly no drama.
I can’t believe it’s over, Jordan thought, I never want to do that again.
--------------------------------
That night when it was time for bed, Sally knocked on Jordan’s door and came in. “Jordie dear are you all ready for bed?”
She was typing on her computer and mumbled an incoherent response.
“Jordan – I want to make sure your night pants are going to work for you – have you tried one yet?”
She hadn’t – in fact she had been both dreading and delaying the eventuality.
“No mom. Not yet.”
“Ok well get one on, I want to see how they fit.”
“O-KAYE! Gimme a sec!”
Sally stood in the open door waiting.
Jordan got up and began fiddling through her dresser for pajamas and then located the bag of Pull-Ups in the bottom drawer, already covered up by a heavy sweater. Opening it, she pulled out the pink paper-like article with Minnie-Mouse printed faintly all over the front. The package read ‘NEW! Minnie Disappears when Wet!’ and Jordan felt ashamed.
She looked up at her mom. “Can I have a little privacy please?”
“Oh. Sure.” Sally pulled the door closed as she waited outside. The other two girls were just down the hall in the living room playing; still not ready for bed themselves.
Jordan removed her street clothes and panties. She was still in the middle of her first period ever but since she was likely to get even messier that night, she decided to forego a shower until morning. The pre-teen proceeded to open up the childlike underwear and examine them. She noticed little channels inside created by gathers that seemed to stand vertically on end (must be to keep all the pee in) and the padding itself felt quite soft albeit thin. It also seemed still rather small even though it was obviously bigger than the one she had torn so easily the night before. She put her long legs through each hole and rather quickly slid the diaper up her body. When it reached her thighs, the left side rapidly gave way and ripped in half -- seemingly giving less resistance than the one she had worn the night before. CRAP!!!
“Jordan how’s it going in there?” Her Mom's muffled voice came through the closed door.
Jordan ignored it. Naked from the waist down, she started to sweat a little and quickly grabbed a second Pull-Up, throwing the first in her bedside trashcan. This time, she opened the diaper up and didn’t bother examining it. Pulling it up a little more tenderly this time, it ripped once more on the left side as it got to her hips -- albeit not as thoroughly. Even though the garment was all the way up, it only stayed on by a couple strands and once she took a step toward her bed for the pants she had prepared, it too ripped completely away. Shit!! What the hell is wrong with me!! I can’t even wear a diaper correctly!!!
“Jordan are you having a problem? Answer me.”
“They keep ripping mom. They’re too small.”
“WHAT!?!” Sally opened the door wide just as Jordan was tossing the second torn garment in her bedside trashcan. She was still completely bare from her waist down and made a move to cover herself. “Oh knock it off young lady, I’ve seen it all many times even this past month – relax – I’m not gonna have you waste our hard earned money by being careless with these things. Now get over here!” She pointed at the floor beneath her feet.
Pulling another Pull-Up out of the bag of 24, Sally sat on the bed and held it out for her daughter to step in. As Jordan complied, Sally couldn’t help notice the odd juxtaposition this situation created: the baby garment combined with all the signs of womanhood clearly on display before her on her daughter's body. It was an odd scenario.
For Jordan, it wasn’t just odd, it was humiliating on the basest of levels. Today had been perhaps the worst day of her life. Bleeding and smelly she had to go have her privates probed by a doctor before shopping for diapers for herself at the store before having her mom dress her in one before bed. How can it get any worse?
Just then Mindi walked down the hall to the bathroom, passing Jordan’s open door. It was natural to glance inside and even more natural to take a long look at the odd sight. “Jordan?!!? Why is mommy putting a pull-up on you?”
“Mindi dear, please shut the door, this is private.” Sally said firmly.
“But moooooom! Why is Jordan wearing Pull-Ups!?!!? And why are you helping her?!?!”
This alerted Jen to scamper down the wood-clad-hall to catch whatever action was occurring on the south end of the house. She watched with wordless wonder as well; albeit much closer than her sister.
With the peanut gallery in full view, Sally pulled up the Pull-Up the rest of the way and ran into the same problem Jordan had experienced before – her hips were simply too wide for such small underwear. They ripped once again just the same. “What is wrong with these pieces of junk!! I though they were supposed to be bigger! Take it off." Sally was getting frustrated.
“Mom!!”
“Jordan. Now.”
“Can you at least make them leave?”
“Mindi – bathroom, then bed. Jen – go play with your toys. Mindi, shut the door.” They knew she meant business and followed orders rapidly.
Four Pull-Ups later, Sally’s third attempt fared better and appeared to hold together on Jordan’s growing frame. “Ok let’s hope this works tonight…maybe you just have to be super careful when you put them on…?”
Jordan was silent in her shame. I can’t believe this just happened to me. I simply can’t believe it.
As she crawled into bed wearing only the Pull-Up and a t-shirt however, the young girl felt the tinge of a new and strange feeling: peace. Odd, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
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Over the weekend, Sally continued to help Jordan into the undersized Minnie Mouse Pull-Ups. Each morning she awoke with blood and pee all over her bedding and pajamas and one or both of the sides of the Pull-Ups were completely torn. Although they did serve to soak up some of the mess, this larger size was still not doing enough to justify the expense.
That same weekend, Jordan had gone on Sunday afternoon with her sisters to spend time with her Dad in downtown Seattle. A colleague had lent him a fancy black Mercedes sedan with leather seats to drive and he had picked the three of them up at home and had taken them to lunch in Belltown to this fancy Japanese restaurant. To Jordan’s dismay, Melissa had met the foursome there and Ted had introduced his girls to her as “my friend” (rather than coworker as they had always known her). Jordan had been the only one who was old enough to know the truth – and he had not yet been aware that Sally had told her.
She had felt utterly disgusted at her father’s duplicity and rejection – but also sick to her stomach because of her ongoing menstrual cycle. At one point, Melissa had gone into the bathroom at the same time as Jordan to check on her and asked if she was alright. Snottily Jordan had replied back “I’m fine – I can take care of it just fine myself; I don’t need YOUR help.”
Before going home, the group had gone down to the waterfront and visited the aquarium together. The younger girls liked Melissa and her fun-loving nature. She had run and played with Mindi, carried Jen on her hip, and laughed and talked with her dad like they belonged together. They don’t know any better, Jordan had thought.
Later in evening, they had visited an ice cream shop and Melissa had announced that the girls could pick out ‘anything they wanted’. Mindi had giggled with glee, “Momma always says we can only get one scoop.”
Ted had just glowed – Jordan had scowled.
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By the time they returned to the house on 22nd Avenue in Ballard, the 3 girls squished in the back were tired and Jordan in particular was irritable and frustrated. She bounded out of the car without so much as a thank-you or hug for her Dad (let alone Melissa). Ignoring his calls, she slammed the hardwood front door and stomped into her bedroom.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sally asked as her daughter stormed through the living room to the back of the house.
Soon enough, Sally knew. She could see the shadow of a woman in the fancy black Mercedes -- a woman who had not been there when her husband had picked the girls up. That was all the information she needed. What an audacious prick! She thought.
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Monday at school was a big day for Jordan. Mr. Johns had promised her he would finish editing her short story by then and give a report about what the thought needed to happen with it before she submitted it to the NPR competition.
When the time came for her second period English class, Jordan nearly sprinted down the stamped concrete hallways past the gymnasium and into her favorite teacher’s room. Behind his desk she looked at him with eyes wide and expectant, “So?”
“You’ll have to wait until after class Ms. Reynolds,” he said.
“What?!? I’ve been waiting for days Mr. Johns! Can’t you tell me something?”
“Nope.” He smiled widely.
She smiled back. That’s enough.
At the end of class, Mr. Johns explained to Jordan how he was genuinely surprised with the quality of her work (and that was the God’s honest truth) – he said that if she had turned in the story as a class project, it would have earned an A+ simply in it’s draft form and he would be using it as an “example piece” for years to come. His compliments were heartfelt, kind, and mature (with appropriate teacher-student boundaries). She felt extremely proud.
“So you’re probably wondering what you need to do to get it ready for the competition?”
“Um, Yeah,” she smiled, standing nearly eye to eye with her teacher.
“Well I’ve marked your copy with some suggestions on stylistic adjustments and minor grammatical issues -- but in truth, I think it’s largely ready to go. If you spend a few more hours on it, you’ll be there. Here's a packet with all the instructions on how it has to be printed and formatted for the competition. Make sure you follow these exactly -- if it's not right, they'll reject it without even reading it. I'd be happy to check it again before you send it just to be sure. Remember that it needs to have a postmark on it by November 15. That’s 10 days from today.”
Jordan felt beyond thrilled. In some ways her life was falling apart – yet in others, she felt great hope and excitement. What an odd crazy place to be in.
What if I could really win? Wouldn’t that be amazing?!
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Oddly enough, Jordan’s mom was at school in their maroon Town and Country minivan waiting to pick her up when school got out that Monday afternoon. The tall brown haired girl with the fancy school preppy looking skirt and blouse jumped in the front seat and looked at her quizzically. Why are you here?
Reading her mind, Sally announced, “We’re going back to the store Jordan. You need better diapers.”
“MOM! Not so loud!!!” Her eyes darted around to see if anyone possible could’ve heard her Mom's declaration despite the closed van door and window. To her relief, no one seemed aware.
Back at the very same Fred Meyer store on the very same aisle, Jordan and her Mom (along with her two siblings this time) stood looking at the absorbent baby products for the twelve year old to wear.
Sally picked up a bag of Pampers Baby Dry size 6. They were also labeled “New!” and said they accommodated babies 35lbs +. “Nope, those won’t do; in fact they’ll probably be worse than Mindi's Pull-Ups! What are we gonna do Jordan?”
Just then a Fred Meyer stock boy walked around the corner. Wearing dirty pants, skater shoes, and face covered in pimples, he appeared to be not much older than 19. “You folks doing alright? Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked out of obvious obligation.
“Well I’m looking for something for my daughter’s bedwetting.” Sally said without a hint of embarrassment.
He looked at the three kids nervously -- not knowing which of the three daughters she might be referring to -- and then back to Sally. “Oh well I think most kids just use these Pull-Ups here.”
“Yes well we’ve tried the largest size – and they just rip when she puts them on. Don’t you have something bigger?”
The boy now glanced at Jordan with embarrassment (she was feeling even more shame of course now and began turning red). “…Erhm…well…I’m not sure ma’am…let me see here…”
He then proceeded to pick up and examine the exact package of Pull-Ups she had purchased on their previous trip. He read out loud the specifications exactly as Sally had done before. “How much does she…I mean…how much does the person who needs them weigh?” He glanced Jordan a look that seemed to say 'I’m sorry'.
“About 140 pounds. That’s our problem. These all seem entirely too small.”
“Oh…yeah…I guess so…well…uh…I’m not sure…let me get a manager to help…” he said as he bustled off around the corner.
Jordan almost resurrected her belief in prayer right then and there. If I have to stand here while the entire store staff has to do a manhunt for diapers for me in the middle of the day in the middle of this store, I’m going to throw myself into traffic. Why me?! WHY? WHY?!?!!? Please let there not be anyone from school here. Please let us make it out of here without seeing anyone! Please!!
Just then Sally exclaimed, “Oh look at these!” On the bottom shelf near the wipes was a row of dark blue packages labeled ‘GoodNites’. She grabbed one with the markings, ‘XL, 85-125 lbs. and up’. “These are what we need for your Jordie. ‘Nighttime pants for older children’ and they are made for kids your size. I bet they don’t even have those babyish prints on them either. I’ve been in baby-only mode for so long, I didn’t even know this kind of stuff existed for kids with problems like yours.”
Jordan shuddered at the way that last phrase rolled off her mom’s tongue. Problems like mine? She makes it sound so final – so daunting – so pathetic. Ugh! I’m such a freak! Sally handed the package to her daughter (which caused another shudder) and grabbed a tube of some kind of lotion that Jordan couldn’t make out. Just as the family of four was making the corner at the end of the aisle, the stock boy returned with the manager with genuine concern in his eyes.
“Oh, it looks like you’ve found the GoodNites. That’s the perfect choice for her.” The manager announced entirely too loudly for Jordan’s taste.
“Yes, thank-you. We did. They look perfect.” Sally replied.
Jordan looked straight down in shame, holding the item in question.
“Have a nice day then!” The boy cheerfully and proudly replied.
------------------------------------
As they pulled into the graveled back ally-way behind the house that afternoon, Jordan felt relieved to be home after what had been (yet again) just about the most humiliating experience in her life. How can these keep happening to me? Hoc can they keep getting worse?
However, sitting in the driveway she also noticed a new sensation she couldn’t shake, understand, or even accept at the time. It was – well – sort of a feeling of excitement in a way. As she glanced down at the paper bag with the GoodNites inside, she felt great shame about peeing in her bed at night (and now bleeding too) and having the need to wear these things to take care of it. But she also could sense the tiniest twinge of weird curiosity.
Will these ones feel differently? Will they work? Will they fit? Will Mom help me again?
Her questions were answered soon enough.
Just a few hours later, Sally once again knocked on Jordan's door and said, “All right dear, let’s get you ready for bed. I want to see if these GoodNites are gonna work for you.” With a slightly shorter delay that she might’ve given her mom otherwise, Jordan took the cue and got up from editing on the computer. Without prompt or argument, she pulled down her school skirt and panties -- and standing barefoot on the soft carpet in front of her mom, she stepped into the new underpants. Her mom held them out; plain white this time with only a small blue square marking ‘back’.
Wow. That thing is much bigger – and thicker – than Mindi’s Pull-Ups, Jordan had thought to herself as she stepped into the leg holes.
Her mom very slowly pulled the white diaper up her legs and over her hips, carefully trying not to tear it as they had both accidentally done before. It easily stretched around her frame.
“There. Perfect. Looks kinda cute even.”
“MOOOM!!!!”
“Sorry honey, I regretted saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth.”
It certainly felt different to Jordan than Mindi’s pull-ups. This kind was quite a bit thicker between her legs and much softer on her bottom. Her mother’s comment however, snapped Jordan immediately out of those hints of curiosity she had felt in the car and immediately back into the more familiar shame and humiliation. Quickly the young girl grabbed a pair of underwear and sleep shorts to cover up the babyish garment.
Taking the cue Sally said, “Well it looks like these will work then darling. And maybe you'll be just fine taking care of yourself too then from now on?...”
Turning around from her closet now more clothed (save a slightly more rotund rear end) she gave her mom a quick hug, “Yeah I think I got it Mom -- goodnight....”
As just as Sally closed the door, Jordan added, “…and thanks...”
-------------------------------
Over the next week or so, Jordan worked carefully and doggedly on her short story – it even kept her from doing other important homework which was probably a mistake in hindsight. But she wanted to impress Mr. Johns and she wanted to make it as far in the competition as possible.
Also over the next week or so, Jordan's period fizzled to an end but she continued wet the bed every night. But these times it happened in her GoodNites. About half the time, her wetting was contained to the disposable pant and the other half it leaked into the bedding and her pajamas. Although Jordan seemed to be somewhat low key about what happened either way, Sally grew increasingly anxious about even this solution to Jordan’s problem.
############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 19, 2014 at 9:11 AM
Content: Chapter 10 - [November 15, 2001]
The week and a half following her doctor visit and the Fred Meyer fiascos, time traveled rapidly for Jordan. She knew the deadline for the story competition was approaching quickly and she spent essentially every free moment at home editing and re-editing her story on the desktop computer in her bedroom. Mr. Johns had offered a number of specific instructions and tips on how to improve her work before submission and Jordan had taken his advice to heart. The girl wanted to win.
According to the contest rules, entries had to be printed – double-spaced - in courier font – on single sided white paper – not stapled (but clipped) with a large spring-type paperclip that her mom had to specially pick up at Fred Meyer on another trip. The story was required to have a cover sheet depicting the title and Jordan’s full name as well as page numbers at the bottom of each page. These instructions she had followed perfectly. As she slid the 25pg (or so) document into the crisp yellow envelope, her heart beat with anticipation. The requirement stated that it must be postmarked that day -- Thursday, November 15.
I wonder what will happen? Is this the beginning of something big for me? Will they really like it? She thought.
Another deadline was upon Jordan that Thursday afternoon as well. As soon as she and her Mother were to drop the thick envelope off at the post office, the very next stop for the pair was the sleep lab at the University of Washington Medical Center.
“Jordan…are you all packed for the night?” Sally called out from the living room.
“Mom! I’m fine.” She hollered back neatly placing the envelope on the bed next to her black duffle bag.
The envelope was truthfully the only neat looking item in the room – she had scoured the place for the fanciest pajama set she could find as well as her only school uniform set that wasn’t wrinkled – and the aftermath looked like World War III. Jordan might've been an introverted bookworm and a bedwetter, but she was still a seventh-grader and didn't care to look frumpy in front of the medical staff at the hospital. The instructions from the sleep lab said that she was to bring pajamas, her typical toiletries, and clothes for the next day along with any necessary medications. After the night, she would be able to get ready for school at the hospital and head off for her day from there.
Jordan’s two sisters were going to be spending the bulk of the evening with their Dad (and presumably Melissa) while Sally accompanied Jordan to the facility. She would then return to spend the rest of the night at home with the girls while Jordan remained alone at the hospital. The tall pre-teen wasn’t terribly thrilled with this plan but she didn’t know of another way – Dad certainly isn’t gonna volunteer to come along (and I’m not sure I want him anyways); and I doubt he’s gonna volunteer to help out with the girls all night either. Ugh! I hope ‘nothing’ happens!!
The primary bad news was that as the soon-to-be patient rifled through her room for the best nightwear, it was already 4:15pm, the post office closed at 5:00 on the dot, and her Dad hadn’t yet bothered to show up.
He was supposed to be here by 4!! Jordan fumed. How am I supposed to get my story postmarked in time if we can't leave?!?
Completely ready to go (which was unusual), she was also completely anxiety ridden. After years of being let down by her Dad, she didn’t trust him to keep his word – to follow through with promises – to leave work when he said he would – to show up in her life as indicated. Moving her bag and envelope into the family's tastefully appointed living room, Jordan sat by the door. Waiting. She would’ve counted ticks on the clock had it not been for her siblings joyful play and invitations to join them in their romp around the house. She clearly wasn’t in the mood however.
Minute by minute – second by second – the pre-teen feared her goal of winning the competition was slipping through her fingers. Moment by moment her anxiety grew, fearing all her work would be for naught.
Finally, at 4:41 (exactly), Dad’s black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, Jordan called for her mom and jumped up, dashing for the back door. Almost knocking Mindi over and actually knocking Jen to her padded rear, the girl was on a mission. With one baby crying, another child hollering “foul”, a third begging for her to ‘drive!”, Sally was flustered as well. She had the added irritation at the slowness with which her husband was moving: still sitting in his fancy black car during the pandemonium inside.
Waiting in the minivan, Jordan was sweating with nervous anxiety – this is gonna kill me I swear. 4:43 now. 4:44 now. It takes at least 10 minutes to get to the post office too; probably more in traffic!
Finally Sally came marching out the back door with tears in her eyes.
“..bastard…” she mumbled almost incoherently as she slammed the door to the weathered minivan.
As they peeled out of the driveway, Jordan didn’t bother asking or speaking. She knew her mom was as frustrated and stressed at her; maybe more.
The two screamed South through Ballard traffic toward downtown Seattle – luckily it was against rush hour so traffic was much less of a concern than Jordan had anticipated. They entered the lot of the Post Office at 4:56 and when all was said and done, the timestamp on the young girl’s envelope read November 15, 4:59pm, Ballard WA.
A flood of relief rushed over her body as she saw it plop into the full mail cart. I’ve done it. I can’t believe it. I made it. It’s over.
But little did Jordan know, the excitement and festivities for the evening were only just beginning.
-------------------------
That day at school, Jordan had let it accidentally slip to Alex that she was getting tested that night for sleep apnea. The mishap had come when she was explaining how she would be mailing her story right after school. Alex had followed up with a plethora of questions about the details of the mail delivery – and then why exactly Jordan would be getting such a test (she had never heard of the condition before – or of that kind of testing). Jordan had made up a generic excuse that she hadn’t been sleeping well as a cause for possible diagnosis; that she had been waking up a lot during the night and her doctor was concerned that her brain wasn’t gonna develop right. Alex had accepted the explanation and dropped the subject to Jordan’s relief; however she had offered to call Jordan that evening at the hospital to talk. Jordan had negotiated into being the initiator of the call but she still felt super nervous about her friend having any part of this aspect of her life – and the thoughts of it brought her new waves of anxiety as she and Sally worked their way East through traffic toward the “U district” and the hospital.
It was a cold wet evening as usual for this time of year in the northern city of Seattle. When they arrived at the facility shortly after 5:30pm, the sun had been down for almost an hour; it felt like nighttime. Sally parked in the underground lot and the two made their way into the modest but pleasant lobby of the sleep center in the basement level of the hospital. It was a cheery space decorated with lightly colored furniture and fleshy plants – lit with natural looking florescent lights. It almost seemed as though they were outside in the light of day. An unspoken surprise to the pair was how full the waiting room appeared; almost a dozen other people were present conceivably for the same testing as Jordan.
Walking up to the receptionist’s desk, Sally said “This is Jordan Reynolds, she’s one of Dr. Yepp’s patients; she's here for a sleep study…?”
“Oh yes! Jordan – we’ve been expecting you.” The receptionist smiled. “May I see your hand?” The middle-aged woman held out a patient armband awaiting Jordan’s wrist. The pre-teen girl nervously obliged the request. Two snaps and Jordan's fate for the evening was sealed; hospital patient for the night.
“As you can see, we have quite a gathering of lucky participants tonight – but not to worry, several new rooms have just been completed and we’ll get you going before you know it. Just take a seat -- and Mom,” looking at Sally the receptionist pushed forward a clipboard, “would you fill out this paperwork while you’re waiting?”
“Oh. Sure. No problem.”
“Thank-you. Just bring it to me when you’re done and a technician will call you when we’re ready.”
“Ok.” Said Sally.
The two found a place to sit on a khaki colored leather bench in between a fichus tree and a rather overweight man who sounded as though he was snoring while wide-awake sitting next to them reading a book. Jordan thought he must’ve weighed over 350lbs. As Sally filled out the forms, Jordan’s mind went back to the events of the previous couple months.
She remembered the way her Mom and Dad had treated each other and yelled about her Dad’s work schedule – it had stressed her incredibly and led her to feel totally powerless. She thought about her Dad’s numerous failed promises and the many many many hours spent away from home or at the office – now that she knew he had been spending time with this woman he now was choosing over Mom, the thought of his career made her feel sick to her stomach.
Jordan thought about the way her mom had leaned so hard on her to help with her siblings, clean the house, cook, and well, just grow up – it had made her feel quite alone and unsteady. While some aspects of growing up were enjoyable, adulthood was frightening all-in-all and she still longed to be cared for and nurtured in other ways.
This led her to think of the attacks on 9/11 and how the following night she had wet the bed for the first time. Mom had been so gentle and empathetic with her; almost like she was when she was little. It had been embarrassing to be naked in front of her and everything but it was dreadfully comforting to know she was taken care of at the same time.
She thought about the pride in her work as a writer and the high praises and attention Mr. Johns had given her – it was quite a stark difference from the kind of interest her own father had shown and Mr. Johns wasn’t even related! As Jordan’s mind started navigating down the path of what it would be like to accept the award for ‘best short story’ and read it aloud on the radio, she heard her name called.
“….Reynolds?....Jordan Sandra Reynolds…?” Jordan’s Mom was at the counter handing over the paperwork and had missed the announcement.
“Oh! Right here. I’m here.” Startled, Jordan stood to her feet and looked around the room. She was the only one left in the waiting area. With a slight wave to the technician on the other side of the lobby, she headed in that direction.
The woman smiled but was clearly in a hurry. “Right this way Ms. Reynolds” she said in what sounded like an Indian accent.
“Mom!” Turning, Sally followed her daughter and the technician through the doorway and into a long corridor with large framed pictures of flowers on one side and a series of doorways on the other.
“This is our sleep center. As you can see, we now have 15 labs available on any given night and you’ll be in our newest room this evening – in fact everything in it from the bed to the electronics has been fully remodeled, and you'll be the trial run. It’s all brand new; state of the art.”
“Wow!” Jordan looked at her Mom genuinely impressed.
At the end of the hallway, the technician pointed to her left and said, “Here we are, room 15. This will be your place for the night. Go ahead and put your things in here, get changed for bed as you normally would and I’ll be back in 10 minutes or so to take you back and get you all wired up for the night. As you can see, you have a TV in here as well as a phone, and the bathroom is just behind the door in here.” The woman was young and of Indian descent with a heavy accent. She pointed out each item and the two saw that the room was indeed brand new – it even smelled it. Rather than appearing like a normal hospital room, it looked much more like a hotel room with thicker carpet, an ordinary looking bed with bedspread, bedside tables, lamps, and all in very trendy décor.
“Oh, by the way, my name is Margaret.” She smiled and shut the door as Jordan plopped onto the bed, back down, feet on the floor.
Hands on her hips, Sally said “Jordan you heard what the lady said, get your PJs on!”
The young girl reluctantly sat up and began rummaging through her bag and then traipsed off to the bathroom to change. Just before she emerged, the female technician returned knocking on the door and popping her head in.
“Hi is she ready yet?”
“Just about…” Sally rolled her eyes and the two smiled warmly.
Just then Jordan emerged from the bathroom in a cute snugly fitting cotton pajama set featuring tiny pink and blue flowers all over and simple satin bows, one each on the neckline and waist. Her feet were clad with pink fleece slippers and she had put her long hair into a loose braid.
“All ready to go Jordan?” Margaret asked.
She nodded.
“Now – one more thing before we head back to wire you up for the study. Your chart says that the reason we’re doing the study is because of some sudden but unresolved Nocturnal Enuresis is that correct?”
“What?” Jordan asked.
“You’ve been wetting the bed…correct?”
Taken aback and embarrassed now, Jordan said, “…Um…er…yeah…I guess…”.
“Well we usually don’t say anything about this but I need to ask – you are wearing your…protection…right now...yes?”
“…w…w…what?” she said, turning bright red.
“Your notes say that you’ve been using absorbent pads to manage it at night – are you wearing one right now – for tonight?”
A bead of sweat formed on her forehead. She fidgeted in her fancy pajamas. “…um… n…n...nooo…I…I…I…didn’t th..th…think I…I needed to…s…since we…since this…was a hospital…..y….y…ya know….D....Dr. Yepp s...s...said...you see this kinda thing...a...a....all the time...."
Jordan replied mortified. Please don’t let this be happening right now – Please – please…
“Well normally you’d be right dear. Many many people who get evaluated in our labs struggle with the same kind of issue you’ve been having – kids, adults, big, small, you name it. And our facilities are each prepared for this kind of problem – beds are all outfitted with protective covers and the like. However, the problem is that we’re completely packed to the brim tonight and they’ve got you assigned to this brand new room that has just been completed today as I said – and the maintenance people haven’t had the mattress and pillows fitted with the proper protection yet. I'm sorry to have to be so blunt with you... But we’d like you to wear your normal sleepwear from home, just to protect our new furniture. Is that alright dear?”
Margaret was honest and forthright in her request – and it made sense. A flicker of hope danced into Jordan’s shame ridden mind however. Maybe I can get out of this then...
“…W….Well…that makes sense I guess Margaret…B…But ya see…I didn’t know and so I…I didn’t bring any of my GoodNites with me…”
“Oh I see. Hmm. Well that shouldn’t be a problem. We have many of the very same products here available at the hospital. I’ll get you something for tonight and then we’ll get you wired up. Ok?”
Jordan felt defeated. I have to wear…a GoodNite…In front of all these strangers?!? And I picked out my cutest pajamas to wear too! There’s no way people are not gonna notice that thing! They're thick!
Margaret exited the room leaving mother and daughter alone once again.
“Mooom!! Do something!!!” The twelve year old whined.
“Jordie what do you want me to do? This is what we’re here for and I wouldn’t want you to wreck our furniture at home either. You should’ve brought your own stuff. I asked you several times at home if you were all packed...what do you you think I meant? I’m sorry but this is nothing to be embarrassed about. Really. Margaret or the doctor or any of the medical staff aren’t going to be talking to or telling anyone you know about your condition – in fact, you probably will never see them or hear from them again. They’re professionals and they will deal with this professionally.”
Tears started welling up in Jordan’s eyes as it became clear that her Mom wouldn't save her. She sat on the edge of the bed awaiting her fate.
Just five minutes later, Margaret returned with a couple rather large looking plastic diapers in her hands. They were purple in color, appeared very thick, and were two different sizes. Looking more at Sally the technician said, “Typically our patients down here bring their own supplies but the hospital stocks pretty nice quality incontinence products. I grabbed one of each size, small and medium, because I don’t know what she wears but here you go.” She handed the diapers to Sally.
“Well she usually just wears a Pull-up, not a full blown diaper. Don’t you have something a little less…” then whispering, “...juvenile?”
“Look Mrs. Reynolds. I’m really sorry you forgot your own supplies at home but we need to get this show on the road. No one cares what patients wear around the hospital. Half of them are wearing gowns with no backs and their rear-ends hanging out. We’ve literally seen it ALL before. Please get one of these on her so we can get the probes hooked up.”
“Ok. Sure. Can you give us a minute?”
“I’ll wait outside the door.” Margaret exited a second time.
“Alright Jordan, I think I need to help you with this – you haven’t had one of these on since you were 2 ½.”
Turning to her daughter holding the size small (but quite substantial) purple adult diaper, Sally noticed it had some kind of odd double-blue taping system and very soft plastic as opposed to the cloth outer cover all her kids' diapers and pull-ups had at home.
Already crying steadily, Jordan sat completely frozen at the end of the bed. She could hardly process what was about to happen to her.
Sally gently walked over to her twelve year old daughter clad in flowers and bows and touched her shoulder, “Lay back dear.”
Red faced and sobbing, Jordan slowly leaned back and her mother helped her. “Ok scoot back up on the bed a little bit honey…”, Sally whispered tenderly near her daughter’s ear. Jordan slowly pushed back, eyes still blurry with tears and barely open.
A knock came on the door. “Just a second please!” Sally barked.
From the side of the bed, Sally leaned over and reached around Jordan. Grasping the waistband of the girl's pajama pants and panties she said, “Lift your bum Jordie." The distraught girl obeyed and sally pulled the clothing down to her fuzzy slippers.
Exposed now and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been in a decade, Jordan continued to softly cry. The level of shame for what was happening to her was at the top of the charts. Yet -- at the same time -- the way in which her mom touched her with such gentleness and spoke to her with such tender words was oddly calming. A strange part of Jordan that she never could've verbalized or even understood at the moment -- didn’t want the moment to end.
Standing now at the foot of the bed near Jordan's feet. Sally began unfolding the purple diaper. She stretched it out, “Ok baby lift your bum for me.” Eyes closed and hands at her sides, Jordan was truthfully paying rather careful attention to the sensations around her privates. Sally slid the disposable garment under her teenage daughter and centered it. “Honey mamma needs you to spread your legs apart a little more,” Sally whispered.
A look of shock formed on Sally's face as her daughter obeyed. “Oh dear Jordan, you’ve got a really bad rash developing! Why didn’t you tell Momma about this? We need to get this taken care of tonight…poor baby…this is gonna get bad...haven't you been hurting down there?”
Fresh tears poured out of Jordan’s cheeks as fresh waves of shame emanated through her body. She had been feeling more and more burning and discomfort over the past few days in that area and every time she had felt a sting it had reminded her of her secret. The more it had hurt, the more she had felt bad about herself. The immature girl had simply assumed that the rawness was just the normal plight all bedwetters suffered.
Laying the front flap of the diaper on Jordan’s crotch and tummy, Sally called for Margaret to come back in. “Margaret I’m sorry to delay this any longer but can you by chance get me some kind of diaper rash cream?”
Noticeably frustrated, Margaret replied “Mrs. Reynolds we are really pushing it here – let me check with the nurse and see if we have anything down here in the lab. If not, we need to move on.” She scurried off.
This left mother and daughter alone again with Jordan still in tears.
“I’m sorry honey – I just want to make sure we get this cleared up – we don’t want you to walk around in pain do we?”
Her mom was being beyond sweet – and it had been really hurting her. As she lay there on the bed in such an exposed state, Jordan once again began thinking about the recent events in her life: the fighting, her dad, the attack, the pressure to grow up, the bedwetting… She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but the weirdest sense of peace began to creep over her as she thought about her Mom. Somehow being cared for in this way – somehow the diaper laying underneath her – was...calming?. Of course she couldn’t have put any of those feelings into words or even accepted them as hers at that moment; but they were never the less there, hidden or not.
Margaret was back after what seemed like 30 seconds. “I found this.” She said handing a white tube to Sally. This not leaving the room but just standing by the bed and waiting.
“Oh thanks.” Jordan's Mom opened it and dispensed a liberal amount on two fingers on her right hand. “Honey I’m going to put some of this on you down there ok? I’ll help you feel better but it might sting at first.”
It did. But quickly turned to soothing. The odor was strong -- distinctive – yet curiously full of memory as it took her back to another time and another place… Still quietly crying, Jordan noticed in a way she had not been in years.
After washing her hands, Sally was back to finish the job. Pulling the purple diaper up between her daughter’s legs, she snugged each lower edge around each leg and taped the tapes before moving to the upper ones across the helpless girl's midsection. Jordan continued to lay there splayed out, pajama pants around her ankles, diaper snugly in place, head rested on its side, and eyes closed.
“Ok Jordie,” Sally said as she pulled on Jordan’s hands by her sides, “Up we go.” Jordan perked up a bit, opened her red puffy eyes. Looking down, she didn’t respond to the thick purple diaper between her legs. She scooted off the end of the bed and then standing up, allowed her mom to pull her panties and pants up over the generous soft plastic diaper. They just barely stretched over it.
So much for cute pajamas, she thought, zapping out of her trancelike state.
The diaper was much much thicker between her legs than the GoodNites she had been accustomed to over the past dozen nights. As she swayed a bit standing in front of her mom, it made her feel strangely but ineffably safe.
“Alright sweetie, I need to go home and take care of your sisters, I’m already late. You’re gonna be just fine tonight and I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
Almost like a toddler, Jordan’s soft crying began once more.
Hugging her daughter she said, “Listen Jordie, you’re gonna be just fine ok?”
She nodded.
Hugs and kisses continued before Sally patted her on the padded rear on her way out the door.
“Alright Jordan. Let’s get to work.” Margaret finally said as if waiting to say it for 10 years.
--------------------
It was a little after 7 by the time Jordan’s mom had left for home and it was a little after 8 before all the wires, monitors, diodes, and glue were properly attached. Jordan had been shocked by the complexity of the process – and also continually embarrassed by its invasiveness. Margaret had to run leads through her pants, right over her diaper, brushing against it in the process. She had run them up through her shirt, brushing against her developing chest as well. She even had GLUED leads into her hair (!?!).
The long walk from the setup room to her sleep room #15 was rather well traversed in the middle of the night and Jordan had felt as though her crinkly rear end was echoing throughout the universe. The snug pajamas accentuated the outline of her diaper and her top was designed to allow the cute waistline of the bottoms to be seen – thus allowing the top of her diaper to be relatively easily visible to passers by.
With dozens of wires hanging from her head, neck, chest, and waist, Jordan was instructed back in her room to lie down on her bed and await further instructions. Margaret had said that it could be up to an hour before anything happened: she could watch TV or make phone calls in the meantime.
Jordan used the opportunity to keep her promise to Alex.
------------------------------
“Alex?”
“Jordan is that you?”
“Hi – yeah – it’s me. Sorry I’m calling so late.” Jordan said.
“Oh it’s ok, I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna call…”
“Yeah…we had some…um…complications here and so it took a little longer than expected to get me ready for the test.”
“Oh – like what?” Alex asked with genuine curiosity.
Crap – that was a bad thing to say… she thought. “Um – well they put me in this brand new room; they’re kind of like hotel rooms and so it took a little bit longer…”
“What? It’s like a hotel? I thought you were in the hospital? And why would a new room make it take longer?” Alex wasn’t trying to dig Jordan into a hole – she was simply trying to talk to her friend about the experience.
Oh no…crap…! What should I say now???.... A long silence ensued.... What should I do? What should I say?...think think think... The pregnant silence simply grew...
"You there Jordan?" Alex asked...
Should I just tell her? I guess she’s probably gonna find out at some point anyways… AAAAGHHHGH!!!
"Yeah I'm here Alex...Ok –- so this is hard…” Her heart was now beating out of her chest once again.
“What's hard Jordan? I just asked you about the room you're staying in... You're not gonna tell me you have cancer or that you're dying or something are you? Because if you do and you tell me over the phon---"
“ALEX!!" Jordan interrupted, "I don't have cancer... Just let me talk please...I haven’t really told you about why I’m here because I'm embarrassed; and I'm scared. And I want to tell you because you’re my friend but I’m still afraid that if I do, maybe you won't want to be my friend anymore... And I don't have that many friends... And I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t want to be my friend and it’s so scary and I j…j…just don’t know what I’d do…” She began crying again.
“Jordan – Calm down. We’re best friends. Think about how many secrets I’ve told you about my life. How can you possibly tell me something that’s gonna make me wanna ditch you? Relax Girl!”
She has a point I guess, Jordan thought to herself.
“Well…I have to take this test here tonight because I’ve been…I’ve been…I…I…well…I…I…wet the bed….”
“…that’s it?...seriously?! I wet the bed til I was like 8! Half the boys in our class still wet the bed. Jordan – if that’s your only secret, you’ve got smooth sailing ahead. Seriously. That's it? Really?”
“That’s not all, the last few weeks, my mom has made me wear a pull-up to bed."
"Oh my! A Pull-up! Ain't no one ever worn one of those for bedwetting...!!" Alex began poking fun at Jordan's intensity...
"...And tonight – they made me wear this big thick purple diaper here in the hospital and I had to walk down the hall with it under my pajamas and everyone saw it...!”
“Really?! I wanna see that sometime!”
Silence.
“KIDDING – I’m kidding Jordan. Seriously though – everyone who wets the bed wears pull-ups or diapers. It's just what happens.”
Still Silence.
“Ok listen. You know how I was telling you about how bad my Dad has been to my mom and I?.......Well I’ve actually had to go to the hospital quite a few times after that stuff – not like for stuff he did to my physically or whatever – for my head…”
“Oh?” Jordan hadn't known about this.
“Remember how I like freaked out after 9/11? Well that was minor compared to some of the other times it’s happened. And when I’ve had to go to hospital, they take me to the psychiatric area and they give me these drugs that knock me out and I always wake up wearing a diaper and I’ve peed everywhere… I never can remember anything that’s happened but I know I’ve had to go to the hospital like 3 times so far and every time I wake up the same way.”
“Really Alex?” She thought she may have been lying to help her feel better.
“Jordan why would I make something like that up?”
“It just feels so embarrassing to have this problem – and to be wearing this…” Jordan instinctively put her free hand on the front of the diaper.
“I’m really sorry Jordan. I’m sure it isn’t fun – in fact I know it’s not – but I’m sure it won’t last forever. AND YOU'RE NOT ALONE!!”
“So do you still wanna be my friend?” Jordan sheepishly but honestly asked.
“Jordan! Of course! How could you ask me that?”
“Just checking…and thanks…Oh – the nurse is coming back; I gotta go.”
“K – night-night sweet pea.”
Jordan was a little irritated by that term of endearment even if it was spoken in jest. This is not a funny situation – and I’m not a baby!!!
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 21, 2014 at 7:25 AM
Content: Chapter 11 – [November 16-17, 2001]
Jordan woke up in total darkness covered by a heavy blanket and dripping in sweat. The strange sensations caused by the monitors clinging to her body did not register as ‘friendly’. The thick plastic (and now squishy) diaper between her legs was also foreign. She began to panic.
WHERE AM I? WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME? The pre-teen girl thought.
“MOMMA!?! MOOMMA!!!” She began screaming as she started to pull on the wires attached to her head and thrash around in bed.
A strangely familiar female voice with an Indian accent came from the ceiling, “Calm down Jordan, you’re in the hospital remember? You had a sleep study last night. It’s still early but the study is over. Please take a breath and lie still.”
In the darkness the events of the night before slowly began to seep back into the beautiful tall twelve-year-old’s mind. She recalled her embarrassment of having to be diapered by her mother and the increasing shame of having to waddle around wearing the thick undergarment up and down the hospital corridors. She remembered getting wired up and then the odd phone conversation with Alex – and my confession!!!
She recalled some of the instructions given during the night from the strange speaker in the ceiling – the glowing red lights in the corner and the eerie video cameras.
Jordan pushed the covers off and reached down under the waistband of her pajamas. The smooth plastic felt soft to the touch but now it was also warm, swollen, and squishy. Between her legs, the diaper felt incredibly thick – much more so than it had when she had walked down the hall (which was hard to believe). Her hand then moved to the inside rear portion of her pajama pants.
What the?…perfectly dry! I can’t believe it!…This thing soaked up every last bit – even with all the turning and repositioning and moving they had me do all night long. Wow!!!
Just as Jordan was getting the ‘lay of the land’ inside her pants, as it were, Margaret (the technician from the previous night) cracked open the door and said, “Jordan? Good morning. It’s me Margaret – do you remember?”
“Yes I’m ok now – sorry Margaret – come in.” Jordan groggily replied.
The diminutive woman entered the room and turned on a lamp next to Jordan’s bed. “You sleep extremely heavily Jordan. Do you remember anything at all from last night?”
“A little I guess – but mostly from before I went to sleep.”
“That’s what I’d guess. Are you…I mean…is your diaper…well…wet?” Margaret asked as she began to pull back the covers.
Jordan didn’t resist.
“…U…Um yeah…very…” mumbled Jordan, still embarrassed from the events of the night before. As Margaret exposed the girl without a thought, Jordan could smell the odor of the cream her mom had used on her private area the night before.
That’s sure long lasting stuff, she thought.
“We came and checked your diaper at several increments last night actually – you were so heavily sleeping that you simply didn’t wake up to notice.” Margaret said as she scooted Jordan’s pajamas down enough to see the obliterated wetness indicators on the front of the purple plastic.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding. Well when we came in at 3am, you were totally dry form what we could tell. It’s 5:50 right now so it seems that your Nocturnal Enuresis must be happening pretty late in your sleep cycles – during the deepest portions of sleep. That’s typical for kids actually.”
Jordan awkwardly waited for Margaret to let her cover up and get out of bed.
“Well, let’s get you out of bed so you can take a shower and get ready to go. Go ahead and sit up.”
Jordan obeyed and Margaret proceeded to help her to her feet. The thick diaper felt very heavy on her hips and sagging low on her rear. Resisting the urge to look down at her snug pajama pants, Jordan averted her gaze toward the flowery picture on the wall while Margaret reached in and through her shirt to un-hook leads and pulled wires through her pants, brushing once again against her soggy diaper. Once again, Jordan felt her face turning red. Margaret removed the glued-on sensors from Jordan’s head and face before finally announcing, “Ok Jordan, all free – go ahead and get changed, take a shower, and get ready for your day. You have your own shower right in there and as you can see, it’s early enough so you should be able to take your time. Breakfast will be here in a few minutes.”
“Ok thanks Margaret.”
“Oh. And please put your diaper in it’s own trash bag from under the sink and tie it off before throwing it in the trash. We don’t want it to smell up the room!” Margaret crinkled up her nose and brow in a friendly sort of way.
“OK...sure.”
As Jordan removed her Pajama bottoms and panties from over top of her diaper, she could feel the weight of it on her hips even more. Pulling on one of the tapes, she felt no sign of release and so she continued to add more force until the soft plastic gave way and tore, spilling yellowish wet clumps of cottony stuff on the floor.
“OH Shit!!” she gasped.
On the other side, rather than pulling on the blue tape attached to the plastic, she tried to pull on the upper white tape labeled ‘molicare’ in script letters. This released easily and yielded another blue sticky pad left on the diaper.
OH!! That’s creative! She mouthed to herself.
Following suit on the other two, she saw the diaper plop on the floor between her legs.
In a curious way and inexplicable, some of Jordan’s stress and anxiety about her parents, her school, and her secret diagnosis began creeping back into her mind as the garment thudded to the ground. It was a shift that did not go without notice – however it was also one that she was not able to admit or even understand.
-------------------
Not long after she had finished her shower, Sally and Jordan’s sisters had made it to her sleep lab room. The girls were beyond excited to see her and hugged and kissed their older sister and jumped on the bed and asked about everything that had taken place. The four had received a brief report from the doctor in person before Jordan was given the green light to go: the study was inconclusive.
Clearly Jordan was suffering from significant Enuresis (Jordan was happy he had used the technical term that Mindi in particular could not understand) but it not caused by Sleep Apnea. His recommendation had been that Jordan should continue with the tips he had given in the clinic and to wear diapers or pull-ups to bed as needed or necessary. “This will pass over time, I guarantee it.” He had said.”
On the way toward the lobby, the four ladies bumped into Margaret in the hallway.
“Thank you Margaret for taking care of my girl last night.” Sally said.
“Oh she was no problem at all; my privilege.” Margaret smiled, “and please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you in the future.”
“Well…actually…there is one thing I’d like to ask before we go. Jordan would you take the girls out to the lobby please?” Jordan looked at her mom with concern – completely confused as to what was on her mind.
“What is it?”
“Well…I noticed this morning that Jordan’s bed was completely dry and so were her pajamas – but the doctor said that the diagnosis of severe Enuresis was confirmed. Something isn’t adding up for me here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Margaret looked at her with a perplexed look on her face.
“Well at home, Jordan has been wearing pull-ups to bed for almost two weeks and she wets almost every night. The vast majority of the time – and particularly when she goes A LOT, the pad is totally overwhelmed and everything gets soaked. I’m just wondering what the deal is? How can she have been diagnosed with “SEVERE enuresis” but yet all her clothes and bedding are still dry? Was that diaper I put her in last night really all that much better? Did you or a nurse come and change her part way through the night or something? Or was it really not all that wet?”
“Oh Mrs. Reynolds. Not to worry. We certainly didn’t change your daughter – and from my observation this morning, her diaper was extremely wet – nearing capacity in fact. The difference you are noticing is probably the quality of the incontinence product itself. I’m no expert but like I said last night, Enuresis is a common problem we see here at the clinic. What you’ve been using at home is probably an over-the-counter drugstore kids’ nighttime pull-up. The diaper Jordan wore last night is a high quality European brief made for heavy incontinence – which Jordan has a form of. A world-class hospital like ours only stocks the best quality equipment and supplies.”
“So where can I buy some of these?” Sally asked hoping Margaret would see the reasoning behind her questioning and get to the point.
“Oh…hmmm…I’m not sure. I’d suggest starting with our hospital pharmacy upstairs and perhaps they can direct you to a mail-order company. As you may have noticed, over the counter mass-sales pharmacies only carry mediocre quality products.”
“I guess I’m beginning to understand that. Thank-you Margaret once again for your help.”
As she exited to the lobby, she saw her three girls admiring a FishTank in the corner she and Jordan had failed to notice the night before. They cute in how they lined up on a leather bench peering into the glass – tall Jordan in her skirt and on her knees and her two sisters next to her on tiptoes.
They look about the same level of maturity, Sally thought.
“Come ‘on girls, we have one more stop before Jordan’s gotta get to school.” She announced.
------------------------
At school that day, Jordan was anxious to talk to Mr. Johns about mailing her short story in to the NPR competition. For a reason unbeknownst to her at the time, he didn’t seem terribly interested in her joy or even excited about the milestone. It was odd to her because he had been such an integral part in the process: encouraging, editing, guiding, reminding, etc. But now, it was as if he could care less. Weird, she thought, I hope he’s just having a bad day. I can relate though…., dropping the issue.
BCS always had half-days of school on Fridays and as Jordan hung out with Alex on the front landing waiting for the busses to arrive, their mutual (but relatively distant) friend Georgia walked over handing each of them carefully decorated envelopes. She smiled shyly and said, “I hope you can make it,” before turning and quickly walking away.
Georgia had been adopted from Ethiopia by the family of an entrepreneur in the Seattle area who invented something related to computers and video – Jordan didn’t know anything more than that other than the fact that her family was l.o.a.d.e.d. Any party at Georgia’s house was bound to be a good one – and presumably the cute personalized handmade cards were invitations.
The friends looked at each other and then at their matching pink and white envelopes. Alex smiled widely. Jordan looked like a deer in the headlights. The more enthusiastic of the two tore her envelope open and read it aloud: “Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Georgia’s Birthday’s Next Saturday, Won’t you come Sleepover Too?” Besides mixing metaphors of love-note and birthday invitation – it was super sweet and creative.
“AWESOME!!!” Alex exclaimed, “A slumber party on Saturday NIght! Our first of Junior High Jordan! And it’s at Georgia’s house! What amazing luck!!!”
“Yeah – great.” Jordan said with zero zip.
“What?! What’s wrong? Don’t you like Georgia? I bet it’ll be real small just how you like parties Jordan – she’s kinda shy like you ya know? And her house!! It’s sooooo nice… This is gonna be GREAT!”
“Alex! I can’t possibly go to this.”
“What?! Why?”
“Alex!” Jordan glanced down.
“Wha---oh…well…it’s no big deal Jordan…just bring one of your things and you can sneak it in the bathroom. No one will know.”
“ALEX!! SHHHHHHH!!” Jordan said rather loudly herself as she shuffled her friend off closer to the bushes near the front of the building.
“Jordan, lots of kids have that problem and really – no one will notice. Just put it on before bed and it’ll be fine….or don’t wear it…you said it doesn’t’ happen every night anyways….”
Much less than convinced, Jordan was almost in tears. “Alex I don’t think you understand how big of deal this is for me. If anyone here were to find out, Amber and Nicole would destroy me around here…it’s just now finally starting to get better…I can’t risk anyone finding out… I have to tell Georgia ‘no’. I’m sorry Alex.” Jordan turned to walk away.
“Jordan…”
“I’ve gotta catch my bus Alex.”
Alex was shaken by the conversation. Since her friend had confided in her the night before, it hadn’t sunk in how big of a deal it was to her – how frightened she was by the possibility of discovery – how embarrassed she was of the problem. She wished she could do something to help her friend but she didn’t know what it might be. After a few moments, she too made her way toward the busses.
Just feet from where the two had stood, a school window was cracked open to the fresh Winter Seattle air.
------------------------
Jo Miller tapped her fingers on the soft leather wrapped steering wheel of her Mercedes Benz ML320. The black SUV sat idling behind a long line of cars waiting in line to pick up children in the Friday Noon-Rush at BCS. It was another dreary and windy Fall afternoon in Ballard and the windshield wipers pulsated every 30 seconds to keep the light drizzle away. The vehicle was perfectly silent save for that noise.
Bob’s picture was crudely taped to the dashboard above and to the left of the heat register. She and their closest friends had staged an intervention that August and Bob had chosen to take the opportunity to go to invasive and intensive treatment in California until late January. Life had been hard with Bob’s abuse – and it had been hard with him absent. People think money fixes everything; whatever… Jo thought as she looked forward to the line of cars filled with parents – many of whom she knew – many of whom who were wealthy – many of whom had similar problems she was experiencing.
As her car inched closer to the front entrance, Jo saw her daughter Alex jogging toward the late model SUV. If it had been a maroon Chrysler minivan, it would’ve stuck out among the late model luxury vehicles; but in this lineup, Alex had to look for the aftermarket polished chrome wheels her Dad had had installed before bringing the car home to her mom with a bow on top.
Opening the door, she tossed her bag in and silently buckled her seatbelt.
“It’s nice to see you too dear,” Jo said, as she proceeded to pull the car out toward the exit, “what’s eating you this afternoon? And what d’y’wanna eat for lunch?”
“Nothing mom.”
“Alex. Knock it off and talk girlfriend.” Having children young had it’s perks – Jo saw through the nonsense quicker than some older parents; and felt much more confidence in cutting through the crap.
“Well, Jordan and I got these today.” She showed her mom crafty invitation from Georgia.
“And…”
“Jordan says she isn’t going. And I know Georgia doesn’t have many friends and I know she spent a lot of time thinking about who to invite – and making these invitations – and carefully planning her party –and it’s going to really hurt her feelings if Jordan doesn’t go. But she’s so stubborn and she’s made up her mind.”
“Well why doesn’t she want to go? When is it?”
“It’s not the schedule. It’s something else….”
“Well what?”
“Mom – I don’t think I can say…she told me in confidence…”
“Alex you’re the one who brought it up – I’m not trying to pry – I’m not trying to drag gossip out. You should know that I’m the last person who wants to spread gossip.”
Alex knew how badly gossip had hurt she and her mom through her dad’s addiction, abuse cycles, and now his treatment. It wasn’t fun. She knew her mom was really a safe haven.
“Well – Jordan’s been wetting the bed. Like major. For a few weeks. She even went to the hospital and had this sleep test thing to check her sleep patterns or something. That was last night.”
“Oh?” Jo hadn’t heard this from Sally, but they hadn’t talked about the kids in the past month – only Ted and his escapades with that tramp Melissa. As far as Jo knew, Alex didn’t know about the affair.
“Well Jordan just told me about it last night when she was at the hospital – you know we talked on the phone for a long long time right? I think she was like terrified I was going to quit being her friend or something crazy. She’s all stress and embarrassed about it like it’s this terrible secret. The worst part for her is she had to wear a diaper last night and her mom’s been making her wear pull-ups at home so she won’t wreck the mattress; which of course she’s embarrassed about.”
“I see,” Jo said as they pulled onto 99 south headed toward downtown, “you haven’t said where you want to eat by the way.”
“I don’t care mom, you pick. Anyways, so when we got this invitation today Jordan just went on and on about how she couldn’t possibly go to this party because everyone would find out about her secret problem and then they’d hate her even more. And Moom—It’s just not true!! I don’t believe it! Those are nice girls!! Georgia is so sweet. And all her friends!! They’re not like Nicole and Amber and the rest of those twats.”
“Watch your mouth young lady!” Jo probably would’ve used the same word herself but she had to at least act like a responsible mother.
“Sorry – but they are.”
Jo glared at her.
“Anyways, I’m pretty much Jordan’s only friend and she keeps doing things like this to alienate herself from other friendships. I’m really worried about her. All she does is stay in her room and write those silly stories. I mean, we hang out and stuff and I love her because she’s so smart and funny and creative – but I’m worried she’s gonna drive herself crazy by how serious she is. Like – could that be causing this bedwetting thing in the first place?!”
“So that’s why you’re so upset…you’re not so much worried about Georgia’s feelings as you are worried about Jordan…”
“I guess so.” They were crossing the bridge over the causeway connecting Puget Sound with Lake Union. Alex looked out and saw a ferry headed to the Island across bay.
“Listen honey – Jordan’s got to find her own way in life…she’s got to make her own decisions and she’s got to make her own mistakes. It’s thoughtful of you to care about how you think she’s screwing up – and it’s thoughtful of you to give her advice – but in the end, she gets to decide and you need to continue to be a good friend and stick with her.” Jo wouldn’t have been able to give this kind of calm advice before the intervention with her husband but that experience had taught her a ton about relationships and boundaries.
She continued, “Because she’s so young, and because I’m personal friends with Sally, I’ll mention it to her – but that’s all the more any of us can do at this point.”
Alex felt frustrated. She continued to look out the window.
“But as for you – you need to find a way to let this go. You are not your friend. YOU are not JORDAN. You make your own decisions and so does she. And you can still love her and be her friend….right?
“Right mom…” Alex knew she was right; as far as she could understand this mumbo jumbo. Jordan and what she considered to be her anti-social ways still frightened Alex – and this bedwetting thing just seemed like an excuse to stay home more.
------------------------------
When Jordan got home that afternoon, she spent some quality time with her siblings and actually offered to help her mom with some cleanup around the house. The affection she had felt the previous night from her mother had gone a long way – and besides, her story was done and there were no new projects on the horizon for the moment. The four girls spent the bulk of the evening watching movies, eating popcorn, and playing on the floor together. It was divine.
Before long, bedtime approached for Jen and not long after, it came for Mindi. Jordan and her mom stayed up for quite a while later laying on the hardwood floor talking.
“Jordan dear, this weekend I want to start potty training Jen. It’s time. I don’t know if you remember what it was like when we did the same for Mindi, but part of the deal is that diapers (at least during the day) go away. Period. No pull-ups, no training pants, nothing of the sort. Only big-girl panties. That means we will have some accidents to deal with. But with both of you girls as toddlers, a weekend at home and these rules was all we needed to get you trained.”
“Ok. So are you telling me I need to help or something?”
“Not exactly. This is what needs to happen though. Jen is only 2 ½ years old and she’s going to be confused with potty training if she sees her older sisters wearing pull-ups or diapers around the house. You two still need to wear them at night – and that is fine and I understand and support that – but she won’t get it and it will hamper her process if she see’s either of you wearing them.”
Jordan picked at something on her foot.
“So this is what’s gonna happen first thing in the morning. We’re gonna move Mindi into your ro---“
“Mooom!!! NOOO!” She immediately objected as she came to grasp
“Listen Jordan – didn’t you hear what I said? Your sister Jen isn’t gonna get out of diapers period if her sister Mindi is prancing around in front of her in a diaper every night… And she needs them… And so we’ve got to get her out of that room. You’re wearing diapers too for now and so the two of you are gonna share a room. You might not like it but this is gonna be how it’s gonna be.” Sally tried to say it with finality and confidence.
Jordan frowned. “…so the diapered babies have to share a room together then…”, not really liking the sound of the position or point, but really wanting to keep her own room.
“If you really think you’re a baby because you have a medical problem, you need more help than I can give you. I’m not even gonna bother arguing with that.”
She’s right. And if I complain too hard, she might not be so sweet to me like she’s been lately.
“Aaalriiiigh….” Jordan said in a conciliatory but complaining voice.
“Thanks honey. I know this isn’t easy. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Sally put her arm around her daughter and smiled.
The two got up and hugged; then arms around each other’s shoulders and backs, the two slowly made their way back to the bedroom at the far back right corner at the end of the hall.
-----------------
That morning, Sally and the kids had stopped at the hospital pharmacy where Sally had asked the pharmacist if they sold the purple diapers used in the hospital rooms.
“Oh, you’re talking about our Molicare briefs. Those are a brand new line of product just on the market this year; the hospital is committed to the best perineal care possible and these briefs are simply outstanding. They are made in Europe so they cost a little more than the stuff you’ll find at Fred Meyer or Walmart, but they also won’t leak or cause rashes nearly as often.”
Jordan had turned bright red.
“Great. I’d like to purchase a couple packages if possible for my daughter here. What size do you suppose she needs?” Sally looked at Jordan and motioned to her with her open hand.
At that Jordan had almost died in shame. Mindi had done a double take and looked directly at her sister’s face for a reaction. Even Jen had noticed that Jordan was embarrassed.
“Wats wwong Jowdeee?” Jen had mouthed.
Frozen, Jordan hadn’t respond.
Sizing up Jordan, the Pharmacist responded, “I think size small would adequate and I think we do have a couple bags available – fourteen come in each.”
“Excellent.”
Leaving the hospital and entering the basement parking lot, Jordan had been made to carry a bag of her own adult diapers – plain as day – no bag or anything. The previous few weeks had been one mortifying experience after enough.
Please don’t see anyone I know, please don’t see anyone I know, Please, Please, Please. She had prayed as they walked (suddenly a believer again).
----------------------------
“Ok Jordie, for the next little bit, I’m going to help you get your night diaper on. I think you’ll get the hang of it after a few weeks – but maybe this’ll go away by then. Let’s go in the bathroom though – we’ll do it in there from now on anyways so it doesn’t have to be in front of your new roommate, ok?” Sally motioned for Jordan to get one of her purple diapers from the closet.
“Ok.” She got the hint and struggling with the thick plastic bag, wrestled the first diaper free.
The two entered the bathroom together and as she had become accustomed, the twelve year old handed her mom her diaper and pulled down her skirt and panties. Lying down on the soft bathroom mat, she pulled up her knees and leaned them outward. Sally unwrapped the diaper as she had done the night before and slid it toward Jordan’s rear end.
“Lift up sweetie.”
Jordan obeyed. And once again as she looked toward the ceiling and relaxed, she felt a similar but slightly more clear sense of peace similar to that which had come over her in the hospital. It was strange but real.
“Ok knees apart a little bit more…hold it right there…you’ve still got some rash going on down there…”. Jumping up Sally scurried back down the hall and Jordan heard her rummaging in a plastic sack. She lay waiting, innocently, helplessly, for her mom to finish taking care of her.
This time, Jordan could see that the over-the-counter tube was labeled “Desitin” and it had a much stronger smell than the stuff her mom had used at the hospital. She immediately recognized it as the same product her sisters had received for years and she also immediately felt relief from the mild burning down below.
“Another day or two and it’ll be taken care of baby – not to worry.” Her mom said sweetly.
With a little more expertise this time, Sally pulled the soft plastic garment into place and snugly taped each of the four blue tapes. Once again, Jordan felt its thickness between her legs. Her mom helped her up and held open sleep shorts for her to step into. The tall girl couldn’t help but waddle her way around the corner to her bedroom in not much more than a diaper and a t-shirt.
“Thanks mom.” She quietly said, crawling into bed.
“You’re welcome darling. Sleep tight” Sally said as she hugged her girl gave her rear a pat through the bedspread.
That night, Jordan had kicked off her shorts and slept only a top and her bare diaper – just to make it easier in the morning, she had reasoned to herself.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 25, 2014 at 3:40 PM
Content: Chapter 12 – [Monday, November 19]
Monday at school was a little tense. Alex and the birthday girl Georgia’s along with the other two invited slumber party guests, Cindy and Riley, clearly had bonded through the experience. Jordan was the only person to turn down an invitation.
To make matters worse, Jordan had left it up to Alex to share the bad news with their shy acquaintance Georgia, which turned out not to be a wise move. Alex couldn’t think of a good excuse in the moment and so just announced that, ‘I dunno – Jordan doesn’t wanna come’.
The birthday girl hadn’t taken it well – she had poured over her classmates for hours with her Mom -- apparently to put together the perfect combination of friends (she didn’t have many). She furthermore had spent several more hours creating the invitations for the perfect classy gesture. Jordan simply not showing up without a word made it too late for Georgia to regroup and re-plan many of the personalized activities.
Over the course of the evening and Sunday morning, the girls (with Alex in tacit support) had spent a great deal of time talking about Jordan and what might have caused her to be so horribly rude to Georgia. In fact, Jordan had become the focal point of the party in some sense. Alex had felt caught in the middle (but yet strangely and happily included) of a new friend group that saw her best friend as an enemy. Of the many suggestions floated regarding Jordan’s absence, bedwetting was quickly laughed off among the crowd of others which included her innate bitchiness, ‘that time of the month’, her ‘bastard’ of a father, and innuendos to ‘perverted desires’.
The four had gossiped about Jordan’s aloofness at school and her overall reluctance to make any friends at all. They had agreed that indeed, this invitation from Georgia was an act of kindness; an act of charity which only would’ve helped Jordan’s social life in the long run. But she had coldly and callously decided to destroy their fun and continue on her crash course for social irrelevancy at BCS.
The four had gone on to discuss what they had perceived to be Jordan’s lack of interest in boys. None of them had ever heard her talk openly about her ‘crushes’ at school (that is, except Alex – and given her new place in the social pod she too afraid to risk it just yet to stand up for her old friend). They had talked about how at the final dance of their 6th grade year, Jordan hadn’t come because she had been sick; more like “sick” (Cindy made quotation marks with her fingers as she said the word). They had all laughed, judgments swimming in their heads that Jordan might secretly be……lesbian.
Homosexuality was beyond taboo in the snugly knit Christian community although that more generalized American shame had been wearing off in 2001 Seattle. Jordan was in fact, entirely heterosexual as far as she was aware at twelve years old – and she actually at present had a crush on a boy at school (Joey Michael, a fellow 7th grader and the brother of Chrissy whom she and Alex had attacked with water balloons the week before school) although she hadn’t bothered to share it with anyone.
--------------------------
In the bathroom that morning before class at school, Jordan overheard some of the girls from the party talking about her.
“So she still hasn’t called you or said sorry or anything yet?” Said one voice.
“No but I’m not really expecting anything from that bitch…” said another.
“I just don’t see why Lexi--”
(is that what they’re calling her now?, Jordan thought still in the stall)
“--was even friends with her. She’s got about as much personality as a petrified log.”
“Yeah!” A third voice laughed, “and she looks like a power forward in a skirt.“
A chorus of laughter echoed through the room.
“Amber and Nicole were calling her Giraffe at the beginning of the year – more like T-rex from what I can see!” more laughter came and then water running.
“Well let’s just say you dodged a bullet Georgia.”
“Without a doubt. When I have my birthday party next….” the voices faded as they walked out of the bathroom and the door shut.
In shock and almost in tears, Jordan sat there frozen. I can’t believe that just happened… Although she was introverted and kind of aloof, Jordan was quite sensitive and longed for connection like. Like any budding adolescent girl, she wanted almost more than anything to be liked and accepted by her peers. It wasn’t her first choice that Alex was her only friend.
-----------------
Ted was wearing his typical tailored shirt and tie sitting at the bar of Seattle’s only train-track-style sushi restaurant. The matching jacket hung on the coat rack near the window overlooking 5th avenue. A beautiful auburn haired woman with green eyes sat across from him daintily placing a piece of raw salmon with rice in between her painted red lips.
She had just given her best argument for him to file for divorce, get an apartment downtown, and “move on with his life” (which meant, with her). The bite of sushi was skillfully planned to give him time to respond.
Was calling her a ‘witch’ the best move? Melissa thought to herself as she carefully chewed. Maybe it was a little too harsh. But it definitely is true what I said -- that she doesn’t understand him or respect his work. I do. We’re a better match together 10 times over and we’ll actually make a life together. All that’s true.
Ted thought about what she had said as she chewed and gazed into his eyes with that look. He was enamored. With lust. She was right that Sally didn’t appreciate his work in the same way – but what she hadn’t said is that Sally had never been with him in bed like she had either. Not once. And he was intoxicated.
“Let’s do it Ted. I wanna go places with you. We can move to New York. We can get back to the heart of our work. We can take Hope international.” She pleaded, mouth now empty again.
He thought some more – now about his girls. This is never what he had planned actually. His dream was always to live a long life married to one woman – to be faithful and stable for his kids; to grow them up strong and wise and mature; to walk them down the aisle himself and to give them away to a man better than he. Now it felt as though those were pipe dreams.
He knew what he was doing with Melissa was an affair – infidelity – adultery. It was exciting and fun and fulfilling to have a partner in his career and in the bed that matched him; but he also felt great shame about thought of walking away from his girls. It’s never how he had planned his life to go. And he felt incredibly guilty for the disappointment it would bring to them.
“The truth Ted – is that that woman wants different things than you too. She wants a nine to five guy who mows the lawn and has a pension. You’re a dreamer; you’re a risk-taker; you’re a professional. You’re never gonna be a nine to five guy and she’s gonna set your girls up to hate you until they’re driven themselves and come to see you for who you are: an amazing accomplished and successful man who kicks some serious ass in bed.”
His pride in all he could accomplish was stirred for a moment.
Then he thought about Jordie when she was a little girl – about teaching her to ride a bike. He thought about Mindi’s birth and losing her first tooth. He thought about holding Jen for the first time.
How can I give them up? But Melissa’s right though…Sally does want different things and as long as I’m with her, I’m gonna be frustrated. And in the end, the girls will be too. They don’t’ want their dad to be a loser gas-pump attendant. They want their dad to be someone they can be proud of! With Melissa – I can be that man.
“Ok. I’ll do it. Let’s get married.”
--------------------------
That afternoon in study hall, Alex drummed up enough courage to talk with Jordan about what had happened over the weekend. A foreign emotion to her, Alex felt the flutters of fear float through her veins and hands.
I hope this goes ok, she thought. Pulling her friend into the hall, she began her intervention.
“Jordan we need to talk.” Alex said as sternly as possible.
“Yeah. I think we do.” Jordan replied with a bit of condescension.
Taken aback and a bit surprised, Alex said, “Oh…you too huh?”
Jordan just stared at her.
“Jordan do you have any idea what people are saying about you?”
“Yeah. Actually. I do. And thanks a lot for sticking up for me at the party.” The taller girl suddenly full of confidence barked.
“Jordan – what was I supposed to do? You slammed the door in the face of the richest girl in school! She invited you to a slumber party and you didn’t even offer the dignity of a response!! Don’t you know how low that is? Every girl in school would’ve DIED to get that invitation. Everyone knows about what you di---”
Embarrassed but feeling defensive, Jordan cut her off. Her face flushed. “I don’t care. We’re supposed to be best friends and you let them talk about me behind my back. All kinds of lies; I bet I didn’t hear the half of it in the bathroom this morning----”
“What?” Alex looked confused.
“In the bathroom this morning, I heard all of them talking about how much of a bitch I am and how much you hate me now – LEXI.” The name seethed off her teeth.
“Jordan – I’m really sorry you heard that. It wasn’t right. I’m not making excuses. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my best friend.” She paused wanting that to sink in. “But listen, Georgia was SO hurt you didn’t even call her to tell her you weren’t coming. I can’t even tell you….She was crying and crying and crying. It was like a way bigger deal than even I could’ve expected. I tried to tell her why you weren’t there but I couldn’t come up with a good excuse in the moment and I didn’t want to lie. They all talked about you all weekend – they came up with all these theories for why you weren’t there…I tried to stop them Jordie but…what was I supposed to do?!?”
“You could’ve defended me!!!”
“Jordan!!! We were invited together – Georgia planned the whole thing. She knew we were friends. You were the one who abandoned ME!!!”
The word stung Jordan. But she saw the truth in it. She thought about what it must’ve been like for Alex. I’m pretty much her only friend too – she wouldn’t lie to me I don’t think.
Seeing through her friend, Alex continued. “Jordan. I don’t think it’s over though. I think we can fix this. I think we both can be friends with Georgia and their group. They’re just saying that stuff because they got hurt.”
Jordan started to cry a little.
“What you need to do is go talk to Georgia, tell her that you’re REALLY REALLY sorry. Give her a REALLY good excuse. Like maybe tell her that you were in the hospital on Thursday and that you were super sick – which you were in a way – you don’t have to tell her WHY – tell her you had that sleep thing because you’ve been waking up super tired in the morning and they needed to check it out. Tell her that after you got home Friday, you got really sick from some of the medicine they gave you or something and your Mom made you stay in bed all day and wouldn’t let you touch the phone. Blame it on your mom. She’ll take the heat I guarantee it.”
“Yeah?...Do you think she’d accept that?” Jordan snorted.
“I’ll talk to her too and tell her the same story – I’ll apologize and order her to stop the rumors. I’ll do everything I can Jordan.”
“Ok – I’ll try Alex. Lexi. Whatever.” Jordan said meekly.
“Alex. I hate that they’re calling me that stupid name….But listen -- you have to promise to do something for me though.”
“What?” Jordan wiped another tear from her eye.
“The next time we get invited to one of these – YOU WILL SAY YES. I DON’T CARE IF YOU POOP YOUR BRAINS OUT ALL NIGHT LONG. YOU WILL SAY YES.”
That announcement in such a public place peaked Jordan’s energy level, “SHHHH! OK OK OK! I will, I will.”
“Ok. Then. Let’s do this…. Best friends?” Jordan opened her arms for a hug.
Jordan obliged.
The two worked their Junior High social magic the rest of that afternoon and the counter-gossip movement quickly was set into motion. Before the day was out, Jordan’s name was at least partially cleared among Georgia’s circle. Georgia herself had mouthed the words “I understand, it’s ok” to Jordan after receiving her apology and explanation. They even had hugged.
Maybe this year is on it’s way uphill now?, Jordan had thought at the end of the school day.
----------------
Before going home, Jordan stopped in the English 101 room for one final talk with Mr. Johns. Maybe he’ll cheer me up.
“Hi Mr. Johns, you going home soon?” She said as she knocked on his open class windowed office door facing the steel and concrete hallway.
“Not quite yet Jordan, I have a lot to do before then.” Mr. Johns said just barely looking up from his desk.
“Oh – I was just wanting to let you know I got my story all turned in; postmarked at 4:59pm on Friday; right before the deadline.” She smiled.
“Oh that’s nice Jordan, good to hear.” He said unenthusiastically, this time without looking up.
“Mr. Johns,” Jordan said glancing down the hall toward the student lounge full of students hanging out on leather recliners, “are you alright? You seem pretty stressed lately.”
Almost startled he looked up. “…It’s that obvious huh?”
“Um…Yeah…” she said making motions that it was beyond obvious.
“Listen Jordan – I’ve got some pretty heavy stuff weighing on me right now...it’s adult stuff though and it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to share it with you. I’m really sorry I can’t really give you my full attention right now. Truly. But I am still very proud of you and I’m sure your story will do very well in the contest.” He muscled a smile to this particular girl who needed male attention. And it was extremely hard for him to say the things he said as calmly as he did. The political drama swirling in his life had been almost unbearable over the past few days – and Jordan only reminded him of it.
“Ok Mr. Johns. Well I’m sorry you’re so stressed…I’ll send up a prayer for you, for what it’s worth. Thanks again for all your help.” She wandered off toward the bus-loading zone.
That was super weird. I wonder what’s eating him?
############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 26, 2014 at 4:38 PM
Content: Chapter 13 - [December 7-9, 2001]
Sally intuitively knew it would be irresponsible (or even abusive) of her to try to rely on her girls for emotional support during her separation with Ted. But beyond that, she also knew that the three of them could handle only so much of the truth of what was actually happening between their parents. They simply were not yet equipped to deal with that kind of adult stress.
Jordan in particular, it seemed, was coping by eating up as much nurture as Sally could give her. Particularly around bedtime, her behavior was beginning to have a bit of a toddler edge to it; almost regressing into a state of helplessness as Sally tenderly diapered her each night. The thirty five year old mother of three didn’t mind it – she just found it difficult to make sense of the overall shift itself in the context of their household The eldest girl could seemingly swing from taking directions about watching her sisters or checking on the laundry to being almost helpless in a matter of just seconds. It was perplexing.
She seems to be in a very fragile state right now – and I don’t want to open up so much as to hurt her. Sally had thought one Friday morning as she crawled out of bed.
Her thoughts continued to bubble around the separation as she ambled across the chilled living room and down the dark hallway. She and Ted had planned for Jordan and her sisters to spend the weekend at his apartment downtown. He would pick them up later that night. Even though it was only a one-bedroom space, he had assured her that he had room for the girls – who would be sharing his bedroom while he would be out on the couch in the living room. As she went into the Jordan’s room to get her up for school before the baby, she was greeted by the musty smell of old urine. It had been almost impossible to get rid of the odor once the two bedwetters had joined forces in once space. Even in diapers, it seemed that the smell just lingered.
“Good morning Jordie,” she said sweetly.
With hopeful anticipation of a dry diaper, Sally gently pulled away Jordan’s comforter to be greeted by Jordan in only a t-shirt and very wet purple diaper whose two blue stripes of “m’s” on the front were obliterated, giving away its contents. For the past few weeks, Sally had found Jordan dressed like this in the morning despite being put to bed wearing pajama bottoms or sleep shorts. She found it slightly odd although she never was aware of her daughter’s sleep habits per se before the bed wetting had begun; so she figured that maybe kicking off her bottoms was a normal nightly ritual for the girl.
“Time to get up sweeties.” She announced a little more firmly.
As Sally checked the middle daughter Mindi, she found her pull-up dry as a bone. Hmmm…the third night in a row. Good Job girl!
“We need to get working on packing for the weekend before you go this morning – remember your dad is gonna pick you up from school today Jordan?”
Jordan mumbled incoherently and then rolled over, exposing the completely drenched backside of her diaper and two wet streaks of pee on her bed – one from either side of her rear end. For the most part, these new fancy diapers had done the trick and it was only on mornings where Jordan slept in that she had slight leakage problems. But with the plastic sheet still on the bed, laundry was much less of an issue.
Not seeing much more in the way of responses from either girl, Sally began the fake drill sergeant routine. “Up – now! Get packing! Clothes. Diapers. Jacket. Shoes. Church Clothes. Move it!”
“Wait what?” The “d” word had aroused her attention and the messy haired teenager propped her head up leaning on her elbows.
“You need to pack for Dad’s this weekend. Get up.”
“But I have to take diapers?”
“Well of course. Look at yourself.”
Jordan looked down and felt the cold but gel-like mass between her legs and under her butt.
“But I don’t want Dad to have to…..and I don’t want him to see….”
“You can do it yourself honey – you’ve seen me do it enough. You’re twelve years old. I think you can handle it this one weekend.”
Still looking a little dazed and confused she said, “…okaaaaay…”, flopping backwards back on the pillow in feigned exhaustion.
“Now up!”
--------------------
Sally had kept Ted updated about Jordan’s medical progress over the past month or so: the OB/GYN appointment, sleep apnea testing, the GoodNites and then the diapers, the nightly wetting, her theories as to the causes, etc. He had seemed genuinely uninterested and even when she gave him the overall medical update of all three girls before this particular weekend visit – he still waved her details aside as though they were a pesky insect.
“Okay okay, I got it, we’ll be fine.”
But when he arrived that Friday afternoon to pick the two younger girls up, she reminded him about Jordan’s diapers one more time and he perked up with a little more incredulity.
“Don’t you think she’s a little old to be wearing diapers Sally? I mean, I get why you’ve got the five year old prancing around in ‘em but the twelve year old too?! I mean did you just say she’s got her period now for Christ sakes?”
“Fine Ted – if you want whatever fancy leather furniture you have leased to get saturated in pee (or blood) leaking out of that twelve year old, be my guest. But in OUR house, we respect what we’ve got and we do what’s practical. That means diapers.”
“Jeez ok. You don’t have to bite my head off…ya battleaxe,” whispering the last word under his breath of earshot. “Now do you really have the 2 year old OUT of diapers too?!? – I wouldn’t say that’s a little backwards but we’ve already been down that road…”
She gave him a death look and he stopped in his tracks.
“Got it. Diapers for the teenager, ‘yes’. Diapers for the toddler, ‘no’. Sure. Makes PERFECT sense.” He said trying to get a rise out of her as he plopped in the car where the two girls awaited.
“Love you girls, have fun and obey your Dad. I’ll see you on Sunday. Call me every night ok?”
“OK MOM!!!” They shouted as Ted rolled up the window.
-------------------
Jordan and her ‘other’ family went bowling together that Friday night and then out to eat. Both of those activities happened with the now ‘ever-present-with-Dad’ Melissa. Over dinner at the spaghetti factory, Jordan started reminding her dad about her Mars story she had been working on.
“Dad do you remember that story I was writing about Mars?”
“Um…yeah…I think so…” he said partially cut off by Jordan’s nervous and thorough run-on-sentence storytelling…
“…Well this fall at school, I had this teacher Mr. Johns – he’s an English teacher and he’s amazing and he told us about this competition that NPR is was doing where kids would write and enter short stories for a chance to have them read on live radio and win a trip to Washington DC and so Mr. Johns told the whole class that if we wrote good enough stuff he would help us win the competition – he’s so great isn’t he? I love how…….” Jordan went on and on and on and on about Mr. Johns and how he had been the biggest bright spot in her school year so far, about her story and how he had glowed about her talent and ability, about how he had edited it and helped her submit it to the competition – and how they were supposed to get word within days or weeks as to the results. She also told him about how he has been so strange and distant the past couple times she interacted with him.
The speech came out like vomit. Jordan herself didn’t even know why she was saying what she was saying; it just kept coming and coming and coming, uncontrollably. It was possible that a part of her wanted recognition from her dad for her writing acumen –perhaps the kind of recognition that Mr. Johns offered. The speech may have been a kind of demonstration: “see, this is how to be a loving male presence in my life Dad”, she could’ve been saying.
Oddly, during this soliloquy, Ted became quiet – listening rather than interrupting – appearing introspective instead of the court jester. In fact, Melissa actually had to help out the younger two with their meals during Jordan’s monologue because of Ted’s stone faced focus (and ‘mothering’ was most certainly not her forte).
Well isn’t that poetic, he thought to himself, the do-gooder board member raises his ugly head once again in my life. I honestly hope Jordan doesn’t get too close to this guy for her own good – because it ain’t gonna end well for him if he keeps pushing like he’s been.
Although Ted hadn’t before specifically known that Mr. Johns was negatively affected by what had taken place, Ted did happen to know exactly why he was having such a bad day that day.
He needs to keep his mouth shut, thought Ted.
--------------------
Jordan hadn’t seen Melissa for almost a month. In their get-togethers after the catastrophe at the Japanese restaurant, Ted had elected to keep his time with Melissa separate from his girls (or at least from Jordan). She was at Ted’s apartment when they walked in and both Jordan and she were cordial but chilly. The space itself was gorgeous. Located in Belltown in a brand new condominium unit on the 34th floor. A small hallway lined with closets and the first bathroom formed the entryway which opened into the main living space: a living room to the left and open kitchen on the far wall beyond it – then the master bedroom through French doors on the right. The wall adjacent to the entryway hall was made up of all windows – facing north, overlooking the Space Needle and Queen Anne Hill. It truly had a gorgeous view. The floors were dark hard wood and all the finishes were the best: stone countertops, hardwood cabinets, quality moldings and appliances. This was a top-notch (albeit cozy) space.
Ted might’ve expected a little more maturity from his friend but couldn’t have thought Jordan would’ve forgiven Melissa so quickly for her role in he and his wife’s separation. The dynamic between the two was honestly his greatest concern for the weekend and it would turn out to be quite uncomfortable for everyone. Clearly for Melissa, Ted’s kids were an inconvenience to be dealt with as quickly deftly as possible – rather than a joy to be embraced or a challenge to be tackled. She’d rather not have to worry (or think) about them at all if possible. When Ted had pulled her aside that evening to tell her about Jordan’s diapers, she was more flabbergasted than he had been.
“Melissa I think her mom has been putting those things on her every night and I can’t do that to my twelve-year-old daughter!! I just can’t go there…so if it comes to it…I’m gonna need you to talk to her and help her out…ok?”
“Ted what if I’m not ok with this either!?!”
“Listen!!” He said in a hushed voice opening his eyes wide as though he were ready to go to war, “You are asking me to divorce my wife!! You are asking me to leave my family!! You are asking me to do a lot!!! YOU WILL DO THIS!! GOT IT?!”
“Ok --- I’ve got it.” Melissa said reluctantly.
Later that evening as Ted was preparing Jen’s pack-and-play in the living room and cajoling Mindi to get prepared for bed herself, Melissa made her way into the master bedroom to talk to Jordan (at Ted’s behest).
Wearing a trendy screen-printed t-shirt with tightly fitting jeans, she was about as far from carrying the ethos of ‘mother’ as possible. Standing in the doorway she announced, “So…um…Do you need help with your…thing…?”
Not even looking up from her suitcase, Jordan replied, “No.”
The release of responsibility was all Melissa needed. Turning, she found a place back on the couch, looking out over the city.
Jordan, on the other hand, wrapped one of the three purple diapers (she had brought an extra for the weekend just in case) in her pajamas and tiptoed through her dad’s closet and into the relatively modest master bathroom. Closing the white painted door and going through the motions now of removing her school skirt and pink panties, she lay herself down on the tile floor. It was cold.
Holding the soft plastic article in her hands, Jordan liked how it felt.
She began to unwrap it and leaned her head forward to see it’s every detail. Because mom had usually done this, many of them had gone unnoticed to her. She saw the pale purple color, the darker purple wetness stripes, the white tapes with ‘molicare’ in script with blue tapes underneath, bands of elastic around the edges of the diaper with these other elastic gathers inside pointing up toward the bottom of the wearer, and thick soft padding inside.
A knock rapped on the door. “Jordan? Are you in there?” It was the pre-teen’s Dad.
She scrambled for a towel to cover her exposed privates in case he just barged in. “I’m getting dressed Dad!!”
“Just checking to make sure you’re ok Hun.”
“I’m FINE dad.”
“Ok Hun.”
Jordan returned to her task. Removing the towel, she flung the diaper out in front of her and then reached around the outside of her legs and under her knees to grasp it once again. While lifting up her body, she scooted the diaper up under her rear-end.
This is harder without Mom, she thought.
Sally had been very attentive to Jordan’s perineal area after the rash had developed and another had not shown up since. The young girl had felt no sensitivity that day so she chose to forgo the Desitin cream – although she had grown to kind of like the smell in the privacy of her own home. She didn’t, however, like how the thick substance pulled on her newly forming hair in that region when her mom applied it – and she didn’t like the lingering odor she would often pick up at school. Jordan leaned forward and pulled her purple diaper up between her legs as her mom had done so many dozens of times in her lifetime and tried to center it on her body. She attempted to pull it snugly around her legs to moderate success and taped each lower adhesive in place followed by the uppers.
Standing up and looking at herself in the mirror, the diaper appeared slightly looser and more lopsided than when her mom had helped.
I hope this holds up, she thought.
Quickly, the young teenage girl pulled on her pajama bottoms and changed tops and waddled toward the door.
“FINALLY!!” Melissa exclaimed as the door opened and the teenager crinkled past. She was holding her own pajamas and apparently was waiting to change herself.
“What are you waiting for anyways?” Jordan asked incredulously, momentarily not feeling embarrassment about the obvious diaper that could be seen through her pajama bottoms.
Almost sheepishly Melissa glanced back at Ted who was reading Mindi a story in his bed. “Just changing into my pajamas.” Was all she said.
The truth was that this was technically Melissa’s apartment and Ted had moved into it under the auspices of renting it for himself – she had hidden her clothes from the bedroom closet in the hall closets only at his demand during the kids’ visit. She would be sleeping on the floor by the couch (to her annoyance) that night.
Jordan felt more than annoyed. She IS trying to replace Mom. And is doing a pretty crappy job too!!
-----------------
Early Saturday morning, Jordan rolled over and opened her eyes to see the gray Seattle sky with the Space Needle front and center. I could get used to this. Mindi was sharing the bed with her and she was still fast asleep.
But moving her hands to her diaper, the teenager’s heart immediately dropped – and then almost stopped. Her diaper had leaked. Badly.
She could feel cold urine on the leg of her pajamas and running up part of her back. It was soaked into her Dad’s soft feather bed topper underneath her and she felt cold.
OH NO!!! OH NO!!! Not here!!! PLEASE NOT HERE!!!
Frozen with fear, Jordan just stayed in bed and tried to go back to sleep with moderate success. She didn’t know how long it had been before Melissa tiptoed through the master bedroom toward the bathroom. Stopping in the closet she grabbed something Jordan couldn’t see and then turned around. The diaper clad teenager continued to act as though she was asleep. Melissa sniffed the air and walked over to the bed.
Jordan felt the woman grasp the comforter and before she could react, both she and Mindi were completely exposed to the cold morning air.
“Oh. My. God. What the fuck did you do?!?!” Melissa barked at full volume, almost a yell. “I thought those things were supposed to keep you from destroying MY furniture you little shit!! Do you have any idea how much that mattress and feather bed cost me? Get up!!! GET UP!! GET UP GET UP!!! NOW!!!!”
Jolted awake, Jordan was scared of this woman who seemed to be out of control. There was no sign of her Dad anywhere near the bedroom. She quickly rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“UP I SAID!!! MOVE! UP!!!” Melissa firmly grabbed Jordan’s arm and pulled her to her feet. The older woman was about 4 inches shorter and weighed 25lbs less than the teenager but her confidence and anger temporarily made up the difference.
“Turn around!” she barked. With one motion Melissa maintained an iron grip with her left hand on Jordan’s left bicep and spun her around and pushed it forward – at the same time she used her right hand to grab ahold of the back waistband of Jordan’s pajamas and diaper. As she pulled down, Jordan thought, Is she gonna try to spank me? And she reacted without processing by falling with all her weight to the floor in a pool of tears and sobs.
It was then that Ted ambled into the room wiping sleep from his eyes holding a startled Jen. “What’s going on in here!?”
“Look at what your baby of a teenage daughter did to our bed!!!” Pointing to the wet spot.
Jordan was too shocked to defend herself – now almost hysterical in fear and tears.
“Melissa you need to take a breath dear – it was an accident. This is what happens with kids. We’ll get it cleaned.” Ted said firmly and calmly.
“TED LOOK!!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT COSTS!!!! YOU’RE RIGHT WE’LL GET IT CLEANED!!” Mellissa said knowing she had been beat. She stomped into the master bath and slammed the door.
“Jordie are you ok?” He bent down and touched her shoulder. She flinched away and continued to cry. “Look honey I’m sorry she was mean – I’m sorry you’ve not been getting along with her – I promise it’ll get better. This is no big deal I swear.”
She didn’t respond. Ice Cold. He didn’t know what to do so he just moved back into the living room area with the baby still on his hip.
This is impossible, he thought.
-------------------
This is impossible, Sally thought that morning as she sipped coffee in her quiet living room holding the framed professional family photograph they had had taken the previous June.
How does a family like ours go from ‘model’ to ‘shipwrecked’ in just a few months? What happened?
She hadn’t spent the evening before with friends or at a church small group or with other family. She had stayed home alone and cried feeling sorry for herself and pacing around in anxiety worried about what would happen (or not happen) to her girls and their various problems – especially Jordan.
She thought about calling Ted’s early that Saturday morning– in fact she had had a strong (call it maternal instinct) impulse to try to get ahold of Jordan for some reason at around 5:30 but she resisted.
She’s gotta go through what she’s gotta go through over there and if I call – it’s gonna short circuit everything. She’s probably gonna want to come home and I’m gonna end up in a big fight with Ted and it’ll be awful. God please help me. For better or worse, I’ve gotta get outta this house; get my mind off it!
Sally steeled her emotions and made the choice to cut herself off from the girls for the duration of the weekend.
On a whim, the fretting mother of 3 chose to dial Jo Miller’s number. They had drifted apart through her husband Bob’s addiction problems but when they were both pregnant with their girls, they had been extremely close friends. Sally decided that it might be a good time to reconnect; and possibly a good way for her to build relationships outside her own home circle.
“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line was both familiar and friendly.
“Jo? This is Sally Reynolds.”
“Oh Hi Sally! How’re you doing?”
“Well – actually. Not too well.”
Thus began about a two-hour phone conversation that culminated in coffee together at the Reynolds’s household with the pair staying up late with even more conversation together. Jo’s advice and wisdom gleaned over the years after having dealt with her difficult husband was invaluable to Sally in her current predicament. She couldn’t believe her luck to be friends with such an amazing person.
At one point in the conversation while the two were sitting in chairs in Sally’s living room, Jo remembered her promise to her daughter Alex to tell Sally about Jordan’s refusal to go to the slumber party a couple weeks ago.
“So a few weeks ago, Alex jumped in my car really upset about something going on with Jordan.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah – and I normally wouldn’t triangulate like this but I promised Alex I’d mention it to you so I will and then I’ll drop it. Ok?”
“Ok…?” Sally said now curious.
“Well – Alex told me she and Jordan received invitations for a sleepover slumber party at Georgia Yates’ house maybe 3 weeks ago – it was sort of last minute but that’s kind of how these kids do things. Anyways, Jordan told Alex she wasn’t going because she’s been wetting the bed? Or something? And Alex was extremely upset about her decision because she was worried that rejecting it would cause her to be a social outcast at school – or be picked on more or something. I guess Jordan gets teased quite a bit.”
“Jordaaaan…mmmmm…” Sally said aloud shaking her head, “her dad is gonna be so pissed. Mr. Yates is the chair of the School Board and he’s one of the biggest givers to Hope Seattle. It’s a pretty big slap in the face to that family for them to invite my daughter over for a party and then to have her turn around and say ‘no’. UGH!!! That girl!!!”
“Well – like I said, I’m just bringing you the message and getting out of it. Alex was concerned about her social stock and that’s a different issue than your concerns. But apparently this all happened and is true...so do with it what you’d like.”
Oh I’ll do something – you can bet your brastraps on that!! Sally thought to herself.
The evening had ended with hugs and friendly commitments to one another to stay more connected in the coming weeks and months. Sally with thankful and surprised by Jo’s grace and felt hopeful that perhaps she might’ve struck gold. Jo was actually hopeful of the same.
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Ted, Melissa, and the girls spent the day hanging out at ‘his’ apartment and bopping around downtown bundled up in the rain. The next day, Ted had been offered corporate box seats to see the Seattle Seahawks. At the time, the old Kingdome had been destroyed and the new stadium was still under construction; so the team was temporarily playing at the college field in the “U District” on lake Washington (actually nearby the site of Jordan’s sleep study). Everyone was excited about the event but before it could happen, Saturday night sleeping preparations had to be made.
“Come let me help you get ready for bed Jordan.” Melissa said standing in the apartment’s bedroom doorway with a twinge of cheer in her voice but primarily with pragmatism. The teenage bed wetter sat on the living-room couch and gazed into a book assigned for English class.
What did she just say to me? There’s no way I’m letting that lady touch me!
Jordan ignored the request.
“Jordan…now…please?” Melissa nagged.
Again, still no response.
From the couch, Ted chimed in. They had strategized about this confrontation earlier in the day. “Jordie,” the girl cringed a bit as he used the term of endearment she had grown accustomed to hear exclusively from her Mom, “last night you didn’t do a very good job of putting your night…protection…on and we just can’t have you leak on our bed…I mean on my bed again. So Melissa is gonna help you with it tonight.”
Jordan immediately felt utterly alone. How was she to respond? How could she argue her way out of this? She wished her mom would come and take them home. She wished she never had to see that woman again…let alone allow her to…diaper me? A tear streaked down her face.
“Oh it’s not that bad.” Said Melissa as she noticed Jordan’s distress.
“Obey me Jordan.” Said Ted firmly.
The girl sloughed up and shuffled into the bedroom as Melissa closed the curtained glass door behind them.
“Where are your diapers Jordan?” the older but smaller woman asked.
“In there” said the tall teenage girl, pointing toward her suitcase but acting as though she was something more like 3 or 4. Melissa rummaged through the luggage until she produced a purple diaper.
“Ok, get over here.” She said motioning to the bed in front of her.
Jordan sauntered over with little commitment, looking straight down.
“Pants off please.”
Jordan didn’t react. Melissa didn’t wait. Unbuttoning the girl’s jeans and unzipping them herself, she pushed the waistband down. Frozen, Jordan still didn’t move. Once both they and her panties were at her feet, Melissa said, “Lie back on the bed please.”
Finally she responded as commanded. Melissa finished removing Jordan’s clothes hanging on her feet and she rather roughly unfolded the diaper. “Lift up your butt.” She obeyed and the stand-in caretaker slid it in place.
Now seeing Jordan’s obvious sign’s of womanhood and having already noticed the feminine pads in her suitcase, Melissa couldn’t help but berate the girl, “Jeez – I would expect someone as old and mature as you to be able to keep your panties dry at night. I saw your kotex in the suitcase so you must be bleeding already. Right? You know – we WOMEN don’t piss the bed -- you know?. If you want a man to love you and notice you – you sure as shit can’t be wearing diapers at night!!” She laughed condescendingly.
Melissa roughly pulled the diaper up between the defeated girl’s legs and tightly sealed each leg cuff before taping shut the waistband. “There you go baby. Ready for your wet night. Don’t bother looking for your PJs, they’re still soaked with your pee-pee from last night. Go ahead and just stay in here and crawl in bed.”
She turned and unceremoniously shut off the light, and closed the door before Jordan had budged – suitcase still on the bed. She was alone in the bedroom with her sisters and dad with that strange woman outside in the living room. It was 7:30pm.
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Jordan was shaken. Deeply. She couldn’t move for a long time despite the sounds she heard on the other side of the door. The warm feelings that had crept in about diapers over the preceding days had vanished and she couldn’t even touch it. She felt dirty. Ashamed. Alone. Abused.
What just happened to me? Is she right? Will I be in these things forever? Will kids treat me the same if they find out?
Her thoughts shifted to her Dad – who had disappointed her and hurt her so dreadfully over the past months and years.
Why can’t I just have a Daddy who cares about me? Why can’t I have a Daddy who wants to be home with his girls? Who loves my mommy? Who wants to take care of us?
Who notices me?
At that thought she started crying. Sobbing then. Gasping.
I just want him to see me.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 29, 2014 at 6:46 AM
Content: Thanks for the kind words everyone
It's been a fun project -- hope you like where it leads. Some twists and turns forthcoming!!!
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Chapter 14 – [December 10, 2001]
Seattle winters rarely see snow. They do, however, see relentlessly reappearing rain showers that chill to the bone. On the final Monday before Christmas vacation began, the cold drizzle cut Jordan to the core as she quickly walked up the path to the impressive glass and steel entrance of BCS.
Over the preceding several weeks, the tall girl with the shameful secret had had more than her share of traumatic life-events. Between the bedwetting, sleep apnea testing, drug-store diaper trips, bullying at school, stress with her father’s affair, and the ‘wicked stepmother’, it had been easy to be distracted from the news about the NPR story competition she had entered. It had only been during those late lonely hours at night or boring hours in class that her mind had wandered back to the subject – I wonder what’s happening with my story? When will I hear something? I’d like to hear some news at all; ANY news!
That particular Monday morning before Christmas break, the tall brunette decided to approach her increasingly aloof English teacher for better or for worse. To her surprise, as had happened once before, when Jordan asked Mr. Johns if he’d heard any updates, he only offered a goofy grin and said that she’d have to wait. Jordan assumed that that once again meant good news -- and that like before, it’d be delivered at the end of class.
This time around, she didn’t have to wait that long.
During attendance and announcements, Mr. Johns happily declared, “Class, I’ve received some exciting news about one of your fellow classmates – and she hasn’t even been let in on it yet. About a month ago, someone in this room submitted a short story to that NPR competition I told you all about.” Students in the room looked around in confusing but also smiling and eyeing each other. Jordan’s heart began to beat harder.
“Well, over the weekend, I got a letter in my box saying that this student’s story has advanced in the competition to the second round!!” An audible gasp was heard throughout the room as kids looked more expectantly around the room. Jordan’s heart was beating rapidly and her face flushed. She could hardly smile she was so excited.
Is it mine? She wondered, Could it really be my story that won?
“This student, from 7th grade here at BCS had her’s,” He said ‘HER’s’ Jordan thought excitedly to herself, “was the top story chosen from the State of Washington and our local NPR affiliate wants to record her reading it’s own version of the story on the air for it’s local show in the next couple weeks!” Students in the room were giddy with excitement.
“Who is it?” some exclaimed.
“Tell us Mr. Johns!!!” others shouted.
“The name of this particular secret and talented author is…,” he waited, attempting to build anticipation, “Ms. Jordan Reynolds.”
Another gasp of shock reverberated through the room as all eyes moved to the tall brunette in the corner. She smiled brightly – her face as red as stop sign and sweat beading on her forehead.
Before either she or Mr. Johns had any time to say anything however, Jordan’s classmates burst into applause, conversation, smiles, encouraging laughter, and kind gestures. They seemed genuinely excited for her and the news. Jordan herself felt as though she was going to faint. Part of her had known that this was going to happen, but part of her couldn’t believe that it was finally becoming real. She felt proud and happy and terrified and shy all at the same time.
This probably means they’re all gonna read my story now – that’s kinda a terrifying thought.
After class, Mr. Johns told her about how NPR had already called and left a message on his machine about getting the story recorded for airing on the radio – they wanted it to happen that week with the holidays approaching.
“So do you think you’ll really want to do the narration yourself or have one of NPR’s DJs do it for you? Either way is ok I guess.” He asked.
“Wait, what? I have a choice?” she replied, thinking rapidly wondering whether or not she ought to try to get out of it.
“Well, when we make it to Washington D.C.…,” wait…I guess I should say “if” shouldn’t I?, the teacher thought to himself, “they’ll have professional actors reading your material for you. But here in Seattle, the station needs to get your story into audio form as soon as possible and so it actually gave you the choice. It needs to be recorded one way or another by someone reading it aloud. You can do that if you want or we can just have someone at NPR do it. What’d’ya think?”
“Oh…hmmm,” the thought of reading it herself sounded scary but strangely exciting, “…I think I’ll do it.”
“Cool. Alright well I’ll get something set up and let you know.”
“Ok.” She said, turning to walk out of the room.
“And Jordan?” He said – the tall girl looking over her shoulder in response. “Congratulations!! I knew you could do it!!”
She smiled, “Thanks Mr. Johns!”
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Sally spent Monday morning thinking about the previous evening.
When her daughters had arrived home from their father’s apartment Sunday night, Sally had seen the oldest rush silently from the cold gleaming black car parked out front clearly in distress. Quickly she had learned that her sweet girl had been in search of Mommy’s loving touch. With the other two girls left behind and Ted looking flabbergasted, embarrassed, and confused on the front sidewalk, Sally had heard the twelve year old tear through the house on her search, leaving the front door wide open.
Oh no, what happened? Sally had thought, they must’ve been at each other’s throats all weekend!!
She had been in Jordan’s (and now Mindi’s) room straightening up when the girl had burst through the door and literally jumped into her arms, legs straddled around either side of her waist, and long arms wrapped around her back. Sally had quickly lost her balance and fallen back on the bed under her adult-sized pre-teen daughter’s mass. Jordan had completely collapsed her full body weight into her Mom’s care. It had been a maneuver Sally might’ve expected from the 2 ½ year old (and more easily manageable) but from her 145lb twelve year old, it was a shock not only physically, but because of the emotional turmoil it clearly represented.
Turning to the side on the bed, Sally had stroked her girl’s hair and rocked her back and forth tenderly. Jordan had clung tightly to her mom in the same position, shaking slightly. Not wanting Ted to see Jordan in that state, Sally had whispered softly to Jordan that she had to momentarily take care of her sisters…that she promised she’d be right back. The regressed-girl had resisted and Sally had become slightly firmer with the instruction before prying her way from Jordan’s death-grip.
Once Sally had returned to the bedroom (after having received a passing report from her estranged husband and setting up the two other girls in the living room with toys and a video), Jordan appeared to be in the fetal position in bed mumbling and rocking herself. Once sally had sat back down and begun rubbing her daughter’s back once more, she had heard the substance of the mumble.
“I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…” Jordan had repeated over and over again without hardly taking a breath. Eyes wide open, glazed, and looking straight ahead.
What in the…? What did they do to her? This is ridiculous. Sally had thought to herself. Right now clearly isn’t the time to interrogate, but I AM gonna get to the bottom of this.
For twenty minutes or a half hour, Sally had massaged her daughter’s back, stroked her hair, and patted her hip as she lay silently and rocked. Even though it had only been 6 in the evening, the sun had long been down in the Seattle winter and so Sally chose to slowly begin moving – motherly and tenderly (but cautiously) getting her daughter ready for bed.
Because she hadn’t known what had happened, Sally didn’t know how Jordan would react to the kind of help that she had been giving in the weeks prior – but in her current state of apparent stress and shock, Sally figured she’d be fine to proceed. After Sally had carefully closed the bedroom door for privacy, her girl hadn’t resisted or moved a muscle to help in the process of disrobing from shoes to parka…or from diapering. The only reaction Sally had noticed before she tucked the hapless girl in under the fluffy white bedspread was a single tear running down her cheek as Sally had gently taped up her soft diaper.
Almost instantly as Sally had quietly closed the bedroom door, her affect shifted to rage.
That man – ooooohhh!!! – THAT MAN!!! She had steamed and shaken her head as she walked back down the hall.
Ted had chosen to wait around in the living room for Sally, door still open and spilling cold wet Seattle air into the house all that time. The two younger girls had been bustling around the living room and Jen’s bedroom, aware that something was wrong with Jordan however not sure exactly what.
“We’ll talk later Ted. Just go,” Sally had said calmly, surprising even herself, “I’m gonna say some things I’ll regret if you don’t.”
Ted blurted out, “I’m filing for divorce Sally.” The two were standing in front of the two girls; only Mindi pausing to look up.
She had frozen; skin turning pale and clammy; eyes moistening.
Waiting for him to say more but seeing nothing, she had choked out, “So that’s it then?”
“That’s it,” he had said and walked away into the night.
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The younger girls had shed a little more light on the scenario in “Ted’s” apartment that weekend when they had asked Sally about Jordan.
“Mommy is Jordan sad because she got in trouble?” Mindi had asked splayed across the couch thumbing through a book.
“What’d’ya say honey?” Sally had had to do a double take on the question, “Was Jordan misbehaving or something?”
“Well – why’d she have to go to bed so early last night? And why was she so mean to Mommy Melissa? Did she do---” Mindi had asked innocently before being cut off.
“WHAT DID YOU CALL HER?!!?!” Sally had been caught off guard by the term of endearment for the adulteress.
“Mommy Melissa. Jordan was real naughty to her; she talked back and she didn’t obey and she wouldn’t let Mommy Melissa change her diaper…”
Sally had taken a deep breath and attempted to keep calm…closing her eyes momentarily, she placed her hands on the seat of the black leather couch beside her. That woman is not my girls’ ‘mommy’. She had no right to try to ‘change’ Jordan’s diaper. What the fuck!? Ted you bastard! Stand up for your daughter for once in your fucking life!!! She steamed as her mind turned rapidly.
“Yaw Momma – Jowden wuz reaw nawty – I luuuv momma mewissa – I luuv u momma…” Jen had chimed in trying to support her sister’s story. Although she was quite young herself, Jen too had witnessed the tension between Melissa and Jordan that weekend.
The picture had begun to clarify in Sally’s mind. Ted was trying to replace her in his own new little family system. The youngest two were far too young to see through it. Jordan, for all her confusing behavior and cycles of maturity and immaturity, could easily spot the dysfunction and clearly that had been the source of the friction.
Poor dear; she must’ve felt completely alone; totally abandoned all weekend.
Sally had stayed up most of the night praying and meditating and writing and scheming and preparing for the storm ahead.
I need to be soft and strong and confident and kind and wise and many other things through this time. This will be hard. Ted is a crafty political tactician – I need to be ready for what he will have planned.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: May 30, 2014 at 9:02 PM
Content: Chapter 15 – Mid December – Christmas Break
Jordan’s evening regressions seemed increasingly pronounced to Sally after the kids’ weekend visit with Ted. As had been the case before, she was able to get herself to school alright and Sally hadn’t heard any reports of bad behaviors or problems once she arrived there; each of these were signs of a certain degree of maturity. Of course Jordan’s big “win” with advancing in the story competition was a sign of her obvious intellectual capacity. But when nighttime came each day, the twelve year old seemed to just give up and let Sally take over. Nightly, the mother of three took care of the girl’s intimate needs with a patient voice and a soft touch.
Because of Sally’s empathy for Jordan considering her experience over the past several months, she continued to dote over her with as much tenderness as ever. In addition, she couldn’t deny how undeniably sweet her daughter behaved during those nighttime moments as well. Rather than the pragmatic conversations she had had with the girl a month or so earlier about the kind of precautions she needed to take with regards to feminine care and the duties she needed to follow through on with regard to her bedwetting, Sally’s motherly actions now were unspoken and seemingly automatic; driven by quiet intuition.
Each morning during Jordan’s final week of school before Christmas break Sally had gone into her room to wake her in the morning. The girl had responded by curling up, shaking, and softly crying as she had done the night she returned home from Ted’s. Each day, Sally held her and rocked her before leading her quietly by the hand to the bathroom for careful cleaning. Each day Sally had removed the girl’s soggy diaper and gently helped her into the tub. There, she helped bath the twelve year old much like she still did with Jen – from head to toe. Each day Jordan had meekly thanked her Mom after being toweled dry and wrapped up in a more adult-looking manner under her armpits. She from there assumed what had heretofore been her ‘normal’ pre-teen rituals of morning preparations.
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Thinking back herself about these rather organically developing patterns each evening and morning, Jordan felt overwhelmed. In one sense, she felt flooded by the massive ocean of her mom’s love. The new sense of feeling cared for and ‘seen’ was palatable….like something from a movie or novel. It was truly unreal; almost ‘too good to be true’. In another sense, Jordan felt dumbfounded by the dawning reality that she was having such positive emotions about (at age twelve), being diapered nightly by her mother.
This conflation of positive emotion and wonder led the pre-teen to feel fleeting pangs of guilt; she began to question if it was ‘ok’ for her to ‘like’ the kind of attention she was receiving as much as she was beginning to understand she did. The times her mom spent each morning and night with her, tenderly touching and cleaning her, gently patting an pulling, cuddling before bed, and stroking her hair – they were oddly calming and even hypnotizing.
How can this be good and proper? Jordan thought. Having been raised a conservative Christian her entire life, she simply had little room to accommodate the kind of simple, pure, and non-sexual comfort she had discovered (consciously – for the first time in her life) in her mom’s care.
On yet another level, Jordan was confused by feelings of kind of liking how the diapers themselves felt on her body. It was strange (and perhaps this was the strangest and most disturbing part to her). Even then, she probably couldn’t have admitted it to herself or even described it – and she was ashamed that the hint of desire was even present. But undeniably, there grew a part of her each day that looked forward to the nightly ritual when Sally would unwrap the pale pink plastic incontinence device, slide it under her rear, pull it up tightly on her midsection, and fasten it in place. Even though it was embarrassing to have her mom see her naked genitals on a daily basis, even though it was somewhat humiliating to wake up soaked in warm urine (and sometimes blood), even though it was a little degrading to have her mom smear cream on her privates or wipe them clean in the morning, there was still an aspect in all of it that felt cautiously good in a secret-guilty kind of way.
At multiple points during her bedwetting over the past month and a half (and all through the season of increasing care her mother had offered), Jordan had considered calling her Mom off and insisting that she could do it herself. Surely, a twelve year old was able to care for herself; she could take care of it if she wanted!
And for God’s sake I most certainly am competent enough! I’m smart; I’m a writer; I get almost all A’s; I’m growing up – I mean, I’m even more adult sized than my mom!!
But the twice-a-day moments of helpless submission were too enchanting to consider giving up. Jordan simply couldn’t find the courage to speak the truth or to say “no” to what she had grown to count on for emotional support in such a short span of time.
Little did either Jordan or Sally realize that five-year-old Mindi had been catching very perceptive glimpses of their interactions each morning and evening since she had moved into her sister’s room. Mindi didn’t want to be treated like a baby herself, but she did wish her mom would care for her similarly. Although she couldn’t have expressed it precisely this way at the time, the five-year-old was beginning to feel resentment that Sally was giving so much extra love and attention to her older sister.
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On Friday night as Jordan entered Christmas break, Sally decided to take the family out to dinner to celebrate her daughter’s writing achievement. Mr. Johns hadn’t made a very big deal of the issue in Sally’s estimation, but young (not little) Jordan had been the talk of the school and small church community. Everyone knew about the big award and Mrs. Reynolds was extremely proud of her daughter.
“Mom, it’s not like I’ve won anything yet anyways. I’m only a semifinalist and there are 49 other stories that are probably a million times better than mine. The competition is for 12-16 year olds and I bet all the other ones that made it through are from 16 year olds. It’s only the top 3 in the whole country that really WIN anything at all. They’re the ones that get read on National radio by a celebrity!” Jordan was saying as Sally buckled Jen into her car seat.
“Jordan! It is too a big deal. You’ve written the top story in Washington and it’s gonna be recorded and played on the radio all over our state. That’s huge and we’re gonna celebrate! NOW – where do you wanna eat?” Sally slid the door shut and scooted into the drivers’ seat.
Piping up from the back seat, Mindi shouted, “I wanna go eat at the sketti fact’ry!”
“Mee too, mee too, Sketti!!” cried Jen next to her.
Up front as Sally pulled the car out of the alley-way she said, “Now girls, this is Jordan’s special dinner, she’s gonna decide tonight.”
“But MOOOOM! She get’s to decide EVERYTHING!” Mindi whined.
Jen began a fake whine-cry as well. It was already chaos in the van.
Jordan felt a bolt of indignation as her two siblings bellyached in the back – what’s their problem? I’m the one who’s been suffering here and this is MY dinner! I wont the prize; I worked hard; and I WANT TO DECIDE!
She may have been going through puberty, growing into an adult body, and capable of writing beautiful prose, but she still was a normal, relatively immature, self-centered 7th grade girl inside. Of course, the truth was that Jordan likewise thought the Spaghetti Factory actulaly sounded really good but she didn’t want Mindi to feel like she had won. Thus, in immature teenage fashion (and in as clear and decisive of voice as possible) she announced, “I feel like Mexican tonight – I want El Matador.”
Groaning and more crying from the back ensued. Mindi began kicking Jordan’s seat in front of her and the two started a round of bickering and fighting. The drive East toward I-5 and then north up the hwy to Lynwood where the famed (for the Reynold’s family) Mexican restaurant was located was miserable.
The fighting didn’t end all evening.
Jen refused to try a single bite of her food and to make matters worse, she pooped her panties right there in the booth at the restaurant. Mindi stomped in and out of the establishment and made exaggerated noises and phmrummps all through dinner while throwing bits of food at and stepping on Jordan’s toes. Sally hardly was able to eat at all because of all the wrestling and distractions.
The evening hardly ended up feeling terribly celebratory for the family (newly) of 4.
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At the end as they were walking back toward the van for the ride home, Sally asked Jordan what she would like to do for her thirteenth birthday that year. With all the events of the past months, Jordan had hardly thought about her approaching day (Christmas Eve). For most kids, a birthday that close to Christmas was a terrible downer and for most of her life that had been the case for her as well. Family members tend to skimp on gifts for each occasion and choose to ‘combine’ them. Friends simply omit the birthday celebration for their own family holidays. It was easy to understand but difficult to experience. On more than one year, Jordan had had no birthday party at all and instead was passed over, almost unnoticed by her mom (and especially dad). Last year, when she had turned twelve, everyone actually forgot to even say “Happy Birthday” until late in the evening on Christmas Day. It had hurt her feelings profoundly.
Sally’s question this year almost melted her heart and did in fact cause her to stop and wipe a tear from her eye before continuing to the minivan parked in the strip-mall lot.
“I’m not sure Mom, I don’t even know what we could do…it’s so close to Christmas you know?”
“Well I want to make sure your day gets celebrated this year.” Sally looked over at her daughter and smiled. “What if we did something like having a party on New Year’s Eve? Do you think you’d like something like that?” Sally walked with Jen on her hip, eyes now darting around to find Mindi in the lot.
“Well that sounds fun but I’m not sure who I’d even invite Mom…I pretty much only have one friend…” Jordan replied honestly but really actually liking the idea.
“Oh Jordan! Come on dear, you have more than one friend. What about the Yates girl or Cindy? Or what’s her name? Riley? You’re kinda friends with them aren’t you?”
Jordan’s mind flashed back to Georgia’s party – Georgia’s family name was Yates and Cindy and Riley were the other two friends invited to the slumber party besides Alex.
I wonder if they’d even be willing to come after what I did? Should I tell mom about it?...I can’t…I’m so embarrassed…Plus, she’d be SO mad!
“Ya sort of – I’m not sure they’d come though...” the pre-teen said meekly after mulling it over. She crawled into the front seat of the minivan after helping her mom buckle in Jen.
“Oh sure they’ll come sweetie. We’ll plan something really fun – maybe we can go bowling or down to a concert or skating or something? They can all come eat at our house and stay up late.“ She stopped before suggesting a sleepover.
Jordan could sense her mom’s hesitation and an awkward silence ensued. They both were thinking the same thing although Jordan didn’t yet realize it.
Ah hell – I’m gonna go for it, Sally said to herself.
“Jordan – why did you not go to Georgia’s birthday party when she invited you?”
The tall brunette’s mouth just about hit the floor of the van in shock as they now drove through the darkened streets.
“MOM! Um..I…well…how did you…I…um…” She didn’t know how to respond.
“I asked you a simple question Jordie. Why didn’t you go?”
Stunned silence was all that could be heard other than the drum of the aged motor.
Sally continued, “Why didn’t you even tell me about it? You didn’t trust me? The Yates family is an extremely important and powerful family in the church and school. Do you have any idea what it means politically if our kid turns down an invite like that? It’s a huge slap in the face! It’s embarrassing!”
“But MOOOM!” Jordan finally exclaimed defensively, “They all would’a found out!!”
“JORDIE – they’re your friends…friends understand each other…friends talk…friends help each other….” Sally tried to reason.
Crossing her arms over her chest she said, “Not my friends.”
“Listen Jordan. You’ve got to learn to trust some people in your life or you’re gonna end up depressed and alone and hiding in your basement forever.” Sally tried to let that sink in a second before continuing. “Seriously. This is what I think we should do…come home from your party, watch the ball drop together and then let your friends have a choice to sleep over or not. We’ll do our best to be discreet about your nighttime issue and if it comes up, we’ll handle it and deal with it like adults. I’ll help explain and will put to death any nonsense if it arises. What do you think?” Sally truly wasn’t sure how the idea would go over but she didn’t want her girl to miss all of Jr. High because of an emotional problem tied to her divorce.
Jordan was pensive. Thinking. “…I hear what you’re saying Mom…I just don’t think I’m ready for this yet…I’m too embarrassed…”
Sally stayed quiet.
“How about we just do it without the sleepover this time? I already promised Alex that the next sleepover invite she and I get –I’ll say ‘yes’ no matter what. I’ll promise the same to you too. Ok? I just can’t do it on my birthday…”
Sally thought for a moment. Hmm. Quite the politician she is. That’s from Ted I’m sure.
“Ok sweetie, I guess that’s a good compromise. So we’ll do fun at home, skating or something, then the countdown, ball drop, ice cream and cake, and finally home with your friends?” Sally repeated.
“Yeah mom, that’d be real nice.”
Jordan felt genuinely thankful for her mom’s kindness – but for the second time in her life also felt sad about missing out on what could’ve been an essential experience of Jr. High; all because of her bedwetting.
She stared out the window as they drove home on the wet streets.
“Thanks again for the dinner tonight mom. And thanks for my party.” The words no sooner came out of her mouth than she once again felt the all-too-familiar anxiety about what was to come. But she trusted her mom enough to at least try it.
“Sure sweetheart,” Said sally, “absolutely.”
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HokieABDL said:
I think this is the first ABDL story I have ever seen on this site, which is a story, and that includes the ones I wrote! Best plot ever and it isn't even finished! YOU'RE HIRED!
Keep up the good work. I hope your little TB gets through alright. Milk the suspense, maybe. *teeth chattering* The only suggestion I have is go easy on all-caps quotes and exclamation/interabang streams (!?!?!?). Use italics and a single exclamation point. An exclamatory question can be italicized with a single question mark at the end. Use all-caps as a one-time event when there was an extreme screaming at a very dramatic turning-point moment, like when wicked stepmonster confronts Jordie, or one time when Sally tells Teddy Bastard that one final, or seemingly final "GET THE FLYING FUCK OUT OF THE HOUSE AND NEVER COME BACK!" .... even though they ... may ... kiss and make up at the end ... or not?
[End of quote]
Thank-you for the encouragement and suggestions.
Yep I get a little enthusiastic with the punctuation sometimes. Some of what I write professionally is spoken out loud and so I think that's running through my head as I put this on paper. The pauses, facial expressions, and the like. I'm not entirely accustomed to proper stylistic usage for not overdoing it I might go back and re edit a little bit to make sure the double exclamations and stuff are appropriate to the more extreme situations.
And OH! Just you wait on the plotline. I've got something good planned for the end of Jordan's summer as she goes into 8th grade. It's all written up through roughly april right now (the master file is over 150 pages and 50k words already). I'm just trying to space posts and to make sure I can keep putting chapters up in a consistent manner as I have big work projects coming upon me in the next few weeks -- but the whole story is outlined through Jordan's summer. Lots of twists and turns and new characters and little details you've already read that you didn't know mattered at the time that will come back and be key pieces. Hopefully it all fits well enough haha.
I'm thinking about starting part 2 after that -- beginning some time in high school with Jordan after having bounced into the future. We shall see. I have some ideas about that already turning.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 1, 2014 at 5:42 PM
Content: Chapter 16 – [December 23, 2001]
Christmas breaks for BCS students were an interesting phenomenon. Because it was a private school with uniforms and tuition and a fancy building overlooking the Puget Sound, a great many students and their families had plenty of disposable income to go on vacation to parts of the world not socked in by Seattle’s winter rain, rain, fog, mist, sleet, drizzle, rain, rain, and more rain. On the other hand, because the school was a Christian institution, a great many students also attended out of ideological designs (and therefore often at great personal sacrifice to their families’ finances). The photographs from these middle and lower class household holidays were a stark contrast to the images of Crete, Fiji, and Hawaii that students like Georgia Yates came home with.
Although Jordan’s father was the CEO of a company, Hope Seattle was a non-profit serving homeless people and the family income was modest to say the least. The best vacations her family ever took at Christmas were road trip journeys to visit her mother’s sister in southern Oregon. Although Sally was a CPA with a master’s degree, she hadn’t worked since Mindi had been born and with Ted having filed for divorce, the family of four was now living off of her meager savings and handouts from her parents.
Christmas this year would definitely not be featuring a trip to sandy beaches. However, that didn’t keep Jordan from trying to have a little fun. Free from homework and in the glow of her NPR ‘victory’, she had gone along with Alex’s plan for a date (of sorts) on the Sunday before her Christmas Eve birthday.
This year, Georgia and her family had traveled to southern Spain for Christmas but she ended up being the only one of the girls from her birthday party to be out of town. Because Alex’s dad was still in treatment, she was home from any travels. Cindy and Riley were each from lower-middle class homes with relatively conservative Christian parents and their extended families had lived in Seattle for generations, so they were in town for the holidays as well.
The four ‘friends’ all had their parents drop them off that Sunday after church downtown on 6th Avenue in the shopping district up the hill from Pikes Street Market. The day was drizzly but not terribly cold and each of the girls was wearing a ski jacket and all but Jordan sported cute girly umbrellas with matching rain boots.
Jordan felt an odd combination of anxiety and peace as she walked and talked with the group on the rainy sidewalks. Even though Alex had worked magic to build some semblance of trust between Cindy, Riley, Jordan, the girl who towered over the others by several inches still felt like more than just a physical outlier. It was awkward to not know what had happened at the party – to not have the shared memory of the stories told or movies watched. Alex and the other two kept bringing up ‘inside jokes’ about random items that only had meaning to those that were there. Jordan simply had remained silent. Yet she also felt hopeful and happy to be included in the group.
At least I’m not at home fighting with my siblings or being drug around by Dad and that floozy! She thought.
When the girls walked by Barnes and Noble, Alex piped up to ask Jordan about her story, hoping to include her a little more in the conversation.
“So Jordan, are you gonna be the one to read your story on the radio?”
“Yeah! Are you gonna read it? I hope you don’t burp or fart or something – that’d be embarrassing!” Chimed in Riley. She and Cindy laughed.
Slightly annoyed but trying to take her new ‘friends’ relatively gentle razzing in stride, Jordan replied, “Well I’m not sure actually. Mr. Johns said it would be recorded sometime after Christmas and I’d have a choice as to whether I’d like to be the one to read it or not. I’m not sure. And to be honest,” she smiled, trying to show she was game for a joke, “I am a little worried about making a fool of myself.”
All four then laughed, Alex nervously.
“So what’s it about anyways? Seems like a big secret or somethin’.” Asked Cindy with a little edge of snootiness to her voice.
Doing her best not to take offense, Jordan said, “Well, it’s kind of a science fiction story – about Mars.”
Cindy and Riley looked at each other – trying not to look surprised.
“Oh?” Alex said, trying to hold the conversation together.
“Oh you’re probably not that interested in all the details…” Jordan said fearing the conversation was crashing.
“No really – tell us Jordan – I’m curious.” Cindy said, her surprise now steeled.
“Well, it’s set in the future. And it’s about a father and son who have a super close relationship with one another – they’re astronaut partners. They travel to Mars to explore; the first humans ever. What they discover is a this weird alien species that live in caves under the surface – and eventually they come to find that they’ve been marooned there by their own civilization…”
The girls actually looked genuinely impressed.
Sensing this Jordan asked, “Do you wanna hear the conclusion or wait to hear what happens on the radio?”
“Wait.” Said Alex, both seriously not wanting the story wrecked but also wanting to take advantage of the ‘out’.
“Yeah me too -- but that sounds really good Jordan. I’m like super impressed. I had no idea you were that creative.” Said Riley, almost apologetically.
“Well it took me a long, long time. I started it this summer in my spare time and Mr. Johns helped me edit it before the deadline. I’m pretty proud of it – but kind of scared and embarrassed of it too – like people will judge me or ‘know’ me better once they read it.” Jordan turned a little red.
“Oh I think they’re gonna like it Jordan! Seriously. I mean, you won the contest for the State – that means a TON!” Alex said.
“Yeah!!” each of the others added.
Jordan couldn’t help but smile, “Thanks guys.”
The conversation had continued as they made their way through the bookstore and near the magazine rack of Barnes and Noble. The three girls gravitated toward teen-fashion magazines and the latest teenage ‘heartthrob’ (Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter in this edition) while Jordan found her way to the teen fiction. Her disinterest in most things adolescent (at least from the others’ perspective) couldn’t have been more obvious.
The tall and simply dressed girl couldn’t see them scheming with one another next to the racks, but when they approached her sitting in a leather armchair reading a book, they looked as though they were going to drop a bombshell in her lap.
“JORDAN!” Alex announced in hushed excitement.
She looked up, initially worried but then feeling a rush of familiar anticipation. Uh, oh, she’s got one of those glints in her eye again. What am I in for now?
Jordan quirked a smile and raised her eyebrow, silently responding “What?”
“Wanna go over to Nordstrom?”
“What?” That was not at all what she had been expecting.
“C’mon! We wanna go give you a makeover.” Alex smiled brightly as did the others.
“What?” The bewildered girl said again, not understanding this kind of positive attention.
As had been highlighted with her school clothes shopping in the late summer, the activity wasn’t her favorite (primarily because of the way it reminded her of her height, hips, chest, and everything else that was becoming adult-woman-like).
“I don’t know guys – I just – I’m not sure if I can do that toda---“
“Oh knock it off Jordan! It’s your birthday tomorrow and we all know how your Dad stood you up for school clothes shopping. We wanna go with you and pick out a cute new style for your party on New Years Eve!” Riley said.
Jeez, Alex sure has been blabbing lot about me. Jordan thought as she looked at her friend with one eyebrow raised.
Alex, sensing the feelings of slightly breeched trust, “Jordan, I told them just now about what had happened. I know you don’t like this kind of stuff but maybe you’ll have fun with your girlfriends? They’re good at this and you’ll look SOOO cute!”
The way she had said that last phrase led the tall teenager to feel warm and wanted.
MY girlfriends? Wow. I’ve never had that before.
“Ok. I guess.” The hazel eyed brunette smiled.
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The experience had been surreal.
Alex had served as the go-between in and out of the dressing room while Riley and Cindy picked out clothes in the store and shuffled them to the nervous girl inside. Jordan was pretty embarrassed about being in just a bra (luckily she had decided to wear it that day – it still was an inner-debate for her as to whether or not she wanted to don it from day to day) and panties in front of her friends. This was especially the case because of her fears about odor.
Although her mom had been carefully bathing her daily, the girl with the secret feared the smell of old urine would still somehow be noticeable and her bedwetting would become known to the other two friends (and then to the whole school). Furthermore, she had been battling ongoing bouts of diaper rash and although it would’ve been mostly covered up, she didn’t know how much might’ve crept into sight onto her thigh or rear end.
For most of the session, therefore, Jordan tried to remain in a new set of clothes until the next batch arrived. When she was switching, she tried to keep her back to the wall and legs as tightly together as possible. A cold sweat developed on her brow.
Alex couldn’t help but notice. When they were alone during one of the other girls’ trips to the clothing racks, she asked, “Jordan are you alright? You seem all tense.”
“…Oh…um…u…yeah…I’m ok…” the girl now clad in a tightly fitting pair of jeans and stylish fitted t-shirt smiled nervously.
“What’s wrong?” her friend asked genuinely concerned, “Come on? Is this really not fun for you?”
“…no Alex…it is…I really…it’s thoughtful…I just…Its just…I’m not used to you know….changing like this…”
Alex laughed nervously and looked sheepish. “Oh. Sorry! I figured it was ok. Um…” now feeling awkward herself she said, “…I can go out and just pick things out if you want…”
“…no no, that’s not what I meant…I…I don’t know…” She didn’t want to elaborate with her friend about the real reason for her embarrassment, and the concern in her eyes sort of reminded her of her mom’s care of late back home. “..it’s ok Alex…I’m just a little on edge after everything that’s been happening…”
She hadn’t shared with her friend anymore about the bedwetting (let alone diapers) since that night on the phone at the sleep clinic at the hospital and she hadn’t even told her about the terrible weekend with her Dad and Melissa or her fears that her parents were divorcing. But as Jordan recalled all the stress and drama in her head, thoughts of her mom’s gentle touch each evening and morning unexpectedly crept in. She thought about the helpless way in which she laid still under her Mom’s care – and of course the sensations of her (HER!) diapers against her skin. Suddenly a modicum of peace washed over the maturing girl.
Maybe the stress of home is just adding up, She thought, Alex and Cindy and Riley are just trying to help me like mom helps me. They just wanna be my friend have a good time today. She decided to let them help her out and loosen up a bit.
Feeling her hand taken into her friends hands, she heard Alex say, “Ok Jordie. As long as you’re sure.”
More confident now Jordan said, “Yep – now let’s find something cute for New Years Eve!”
In the end, the beautiful long-legged girl ended up with an outfit more suited to spring time but yet extremely party-like. It was a short (on 5’8” Jordan) white cotton dress with a rather full skirt and a lace overlay. A bright pink bow wrapped high around her waist and tied in the back. The other girls weren’t as thrilled with the bodice as Jordan, which wrapped closely near her neck and armpits. She, however, didn’t feel as ready as they to put off the air of “sexy” and all the clothes they had picked out with plunging necklines or open backs were way too far ‘off’. Furthermore, picking this particular dress enabled her to avoid going through the whole other embarrassing chore of choosing an new bra in front of her new friends as her current white ones would work adequately under it. New flat pink shoes that were “SOOO CUTE” as Riley had exclaimed, rounded out the birthday party look.
After a visit to the cosmetics table for a makeup-makeover, the group was ready for checkout and perhaps Jordan’s biggest surprise of the Sunday afternoon. Alex had been given her mother’s credit card for the afternoon and confidently paid for everything as Jordan’s birthday gift. The others were flabbergasted and Jordan was embarrassed in gratitude. She had added up the total in her head and it was going to be well over $200 – her plan had been to put all the items back on the rack and to go home to beg for her mom to return for the purchase.
“Alex!! You can’t do that – it’s too much! My Mom told me to just pick stuff out and we’d come back later to buy it together…” Jordan had hissed.
“Jordie, you got screwed by your Dad, you’ve been having a super tough year;” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “you had to go hospital and get poked and prodded; Amber and Nicole have been relentless. It’s the least I can do and my mom wont’ care at all. I do this all the time.” She smiled and flipped her hair.
“Thank-you Alex,” Jordan said with her eyes tearing up, “you’re my best friend.”
She smiled and said, “Happy Birthday sweet pea.”
The term of endearment took Jordan back to November and her night at the sleep lab. She appreciate it this time much more than she had the last. If Alex only knew that I'm still getting diapered like Jen every night... What would she say? I was so embarrassed when I told her back then. How can I possibly tell her the truth now? Jordan thought.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 3, 2014 at 3:13 PM
Content: Thanks ya'll. I'm still plugging away. Here's the next installment.
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Chapter 17 -- [December 31, 2001]
Sally had received the divorce papers by courier on the day after Christmas, a Wednesday. Ted was moving forward with the divorce with great haste. He had procured a lawyer (from church of course) and seemed to be well organized and protected (no surprise). She had spent the holiday with the kids at home, opening simple gifts and trying to find a way to make Jordan feel as though she had both a birthday and Christmas at the same time.
Ted felt sad about missing Christmas with his girls but in all honesty it wasn’t the first time. Back in 1998, before Jen had come along and while Mindi was just a toddler, he had gotten stuck in the Chicago airport on his way back home from a business trip. It wasn’t exactly his fault but Sally hadn’t thought of it that way – at all.
He and Melissa had had a great time together over Christmas – eating dinner in the restaurant on top of the Space Needle, doing stupid tourist attractions like the floating duck tour busses and Pikes Place Market, and exchanging gifts (including an engagement ring for Melissa). He felt some guilt for the way his previous marriage had unraveled, but he soothed it by telling himself that it had been a bad pairing.
We weren’t matched; we had different dreams; Melissa and I are headed down the same path – she wants to serve the poor as bad as I do. Sally is too much of a homebody and nurturer to let me stretch my wings like God made me to do.
He had only seen the two younger girls since their weekend visit before Jordan went on Christmas vacation. The story Melissa told about what had happened in their bedroom was that Jordan had cussed her out and tried to hit her when she had just nicely tried to help with the diaper. Melissa had told Ted that she thought it was borderline abusive that Sally was making Jordan wear them anyways and that she wouldn’t allow something like that in her home – obviously she was an unfit mother. Ted had misgivings in the back of his mind but went along with the story.
As much as Ted really wanted the freedom to pursue his life’s calling, he also really wanted to prove a point to Sally: that he was stronger than her and that he had been “right”. He wanted to be vindicated in front of the church community. Getting custody of the kids would be a major inconvenience but it would teach Sally a lesson. However, it was not really what he wanted per se and he knew it wouldn’t end up being in their best interests even if he got a nanny or something. The lawyer had pushed for this line of action and encouraged Ted to provide any potential details that could suggest Sally was not a capable parent. Honestly not thinking of any but also honestly not wanting to pursue the lawyer’s game, Ted had resisted.
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For Christmas, Jordan had really really wanted the new Apple iPod, which had just been released the previous fall. They weren’t cheap nor were they readily available that Christmas season but she figured she could guilt her dad into ‘going big’ since he had been such a jerk. To her surprise, she received a card, signed only with his name (no other personalization) and a crumpled $20 bill. Even though gifts weren’t her primary form of feeling affection, she had felt deeply hurt by his lack of sensitivity. The other girls had received the same lack of thoughtfulness or generosity.
Jordan’s mom on the other hand, did her best to give generous Christmas gifts although she was afraid of not having enough money for essentials since she had yet to land a new CPA job. She had been applying and looking for child care for the two youngest girls to no avail and so she didn’t want to spend a ton of money they might need to survive in the future. Practical won the day: new clothing items for everyone as well as some new pajamas for Jordan (the abundant washing was beginning to take its toll). The younger girls each received small toys as well. Jordan had been thankful but disappointed.
“I know it’s not like it has been in the past girls, but we’ve gotta be smart right now. I’ll make up for it I promise.” Sally had said.
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Despite being a week later than the actual day of her birth, Jordan’s party took place on a Monday night – New Years Eve – deep into Christmas break. She had decided to take her mom’s advice and invite her newfound friends Cindy and Riley, as well as Alex; Georgia was still on her family’s fabulous vacation in Spain so she was left out. The plan was to begin at Jordan’s house for cake and ice cream in the evening before heading out to go ‘skating in fancy dresses’ together. The other girls’ moms were supposed to pick them up shortly after midnight.
The decision for no sleepover seemed curious to Cindy and Riley (but of course not to Alex) – although they knew their newfound friend didn’t have a very big house anyways. Riley’s family was having a huge party and they had told Jordan that they had to leave a little early to get to it anyways.
Jordan had still been wetting her bed nightly and getting the twice-daily treatment from her mom she had begun to expect and even rely upon as a kind of coping mechanism. The Monday morning of her party, she had awoken for the second time in her life bleeding – but this time it had been completely contained to her soft purple diaper. The third menstrual cycle of her fresh womanhood, it was all still a new experience for the girl (her second one had begun the previous month in between history class and leaving the house).
“Oh dear Jordie, looks like you’re more than wet again this morning.” Sally said having pulled the covers back and Jordan’s pajama pants down, “Let’s get you in the bath.”
Well I guess that’s one nice thing about wearing a diaper to bed, she had thought. Then reconsidering she thought further, well, maybe it’s not the only good thing about wearing them…
The (now) teenager’s mind immediately went to the pure white dress she and her friends had picked out for her to wear that night and fears of stains and leaks. But as it turned out, her concerns proved to be unfounded with her mom’s expert care and advice.
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When the girls arrived Monday night, Jordan looked adorable in her white birthday dress with the pink bow. It was cold outside and the thin white hairs on her arms and legs stood up on end when her guests bustled in the door, dressed to kill themselves, and offered hugs and smiles and compliments.
“YOU LOOK SOOOO CUTE!” Cindy and Alex cried in unison said.
“Omygosh!” Riley exclaimed and winked, “you’re gonna knock ‘em dead girl!”
The four plus Jordan’s sisters (who also wanted to dress up fancy) and mom had a great time eating cake and twirling around dancing in their pretty clothes in the living room before. Jordan had been nervous about her friends wandering into her bedroom and finding her diapers in the closet but she and her mom had agreed to move the supply to the master bedroom (along with the plastic sheet off of Jordan’s bed). The room still smelled slightly like stale pee, but of course Mindi was sharing it at that point and so Jordan had plausible deniability.
Mindi had been a little angry when she was told that she would be taking the fall if the girls asked about the odor because, as she pointed out, “Jordan is wet more often than I am anyways mom! And she’s the one who wears a real diaper too!!”
The complaint was silenced immediately followed by a promise on Mindi’s part to follow through with the ruse. As far as Jordan could tell, none of her guests were suspicious of her little secret in the least (at least the two who didn’t already know).
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At the skating rink, the girls stayed together in a tight pod laughing, dancing, singing, and playing the whole time they were there. For one of the first times in her life, Jordan felt accepted and included into a group of friends. It was delightful.
That is…until Amber and Nicole arrived. They had heard about Jordan’s plans through Alex who had told the basketball team (not in a way to get attention or to brag but simply to get out of a different party invitation). The two decided to use their knowledge to try to crash Jordan’s fun and cause a little havoc.
Skating out on the floor near the four seventh graders, the two older girls announced mockingly, “Hi party girls – having fun? You look real cute Jordan….like my cousin in kindergarten does when she had her party last summer!!!”
“Yeah – what’s up with that little girl dress Jordan? Did your mom pick it out for you to wear to church when you were like 10?”
Jordan felt her face flush and she was immediately hot.
“Leave us alone.” Shouted back Alex in defense.
“Oh so the girlfriend comes to defense now. How romantic!” Amber replied sneering.
Jordan didn’t understand the innuendo, but just as she was about to respond, she slipped and fell, splaying out on the floor, flashing pretty much everyone nearby, and losing the contents of her purse which included her menstrual supplies for the evening.
Not missing a single detail, Nicole yelled uncontrollably, “OH MY! Looks like Jordan’s riding the cotton pony!”
Jordan’ scrambled on her knees to put her things back in her purse.
“NO WAY!? She’s not old enough to be hangin’ out with Aunt FLO” Chimed in Amber laughing.
Slipping then on the wheels of her skates as she tried to get up, Jordan fell to her knees again. At this point, she began crying in embarrassment and Alex grabbed her arm helping her up while simultaneously glaring at her basketball teammates Amber and Nicole.
“Come’on Twiggs!! We were only playin’ with ya! Of course you’re a big kid now! I won’t tell anyone about your pull-ups!” Amber yelled as Alex drug Jordan toward the bathroom, Cindy and Riley following suit.
Jordan was in tears yet she couldn’t help but flinch when she heard the word, pull-up.
Once in the bathroom, Alex sat Jordan down in a stall (with her dress on) where she proceeded to cry for a long time. The three girls jumped into a rapid pep-talk of kind words, compliments, encouragement, and pick-me-ups. As her spirits began to lift, Jordan and Alex were left alone.
“So you still hate getting your period then huh?” Alex eventually asked once the two were alone again. She was half joking and half curious.
Jordan looked at her as though she was an alien.
“I just still haven’t gotten mine…I mean, look at my chest, my Mom had to put stuff in my bra to get it to fill out this dress….It just seems like you should be happy, there a quite a few girls like me in our class who are still waiting…and that ain’t fun either ya know…”
Still nothing.
“…Look I’m sorry I keep talking about it. The truth is I’m just jealous. I’m sorry. Really. It’s your night and this shouldn’t have happened and it’s not about me…”
“It’s ok Alex….They’re just so mean…”, Jordan said as her chin began to quiver again.
They both cried some more.
“Thanks for standing up for me in there,” Jordan smiled snotty nosed and red eyed, “I’m happy we’re friends. This has been a good birthday. Really….blood, bullies, and all. By the way, what’re you gonna do for yours next month?”
Speaking about Alex’s birthday and not female reproductive cycles, Jordan knew her friend also was turning thirteen. She had been planning a sleepover at her house; a kind of ‘last hurrah’ before her dad was to come home from treatment. It was something she had never been allowed to do (by his command – to keep his drinking secret). But with him gone, her mom had said she could do it this once.
“Well…I’m actually gonna have a sleepover Jordan…Dad’s still gone and so Mom says I can have one for the first time ever. I know you’ll probably not want to come – for the same reason we’re not doing a sleepover tonight right? But – maybe you’ll consider it anyways…?” Alex carefully asked.
Almost without hesitation, Jordan replied, “Alex I made a promise to you – and yes, that’s the reason tonight isn’t a sleepover – and yes I’m still scared of people finding out. But you’re my friend and I plan on keeping my promise come hell or high water.”
Alex smiled. “Thanks Jordan, you’re the bravest person I know.”
The two hugged tightly.
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Back at the Reynolds’ household on 22nd in Ballard, it was a relatively quiet scene for a birthday party. Both Cindy and Riley’s parents had picked them up for their second party and Alex, Jordan, Mindi, and her Mom were playing a board game at the breakfast nook table with the small kitchen TV blaring New Years Eve festivities. Jen was fast asleep in her own room.
Alex hadn’t yet called her mom for a ride and the four appeared to be going strong toward midnight. Jordan felt quite happy about how her party had gone, bumps in the road and all. On impulse built from this emotion, Jordan blurted out “Why don’t you stay over tonight Alex?”
Both Sally and Alex immediately became slack jaw in shock and gazed at Jordan, each saying nothing. “Really Alex, why not? Stay over. It’s so late and we don’t have school tomorrow anyways,” Jordan said as though it were nothing.
“Are you sure honey?” Sally finally asked with a knowing look, Alex remaining silent still.
“Yeah – I’m sure. What’d’ya say Alex? We can probably find some clothes for you to wear tomorrow, even though I’ve got a few inches on you.” The three chuckled as the attention turned to Alex.
“Ok yeah for sure, I’d like to stay if you’re alright with it…” She said.
“Great!” Said Jordan, “Gin Rummy, by the way.” The girl with the ‘secret’ laid down her cards for the win.
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When bedtime came, Sally found some pajamas of hers that would fit Alex and handed them over. The two girls crossed paths as Jordan, carrying her pajamas, headed to the master bedroom herself for her diaper while Alex walked in the direction of Jordan’s bedroom and the guest bathroom with her borrowed pajamas.
Why is she going to her mom’s room? Alex thought with confusion showing on her face. It was the first of several awkward moments before the lights went out.
A few minutes later, Jordan was lying on the floor at the foot of her mom’s bed, with just her legs and a touch of her her rear end in view had the tightly sealed door been ajar. The birthday girls’ legs were splayed open with a purple diaper just about fully taped between them. The pungent smell of Desitin was in the air. Just as Sally got to her knees from the nightly task, both of them heard Alex’s voice outside the door.
“Mrs. Reynolds?” she said. “Mrs. Reynolds!?!?” she said then knocking impatiently. “MRS. REYNOLDS!?!” she said one more time before knocking a little harder while opening the door and popping her head inside.
It had been so fast – and so unusual – neither Jordan nor Sally had time to react. Alex eyes went to Jordan’s birthday dress lying on the bed, then to the bag of purple adult diapers open in the middle of the floor, and then to her friends legs on the floor sticking out from the end of the bed – the faintest glimpse of a purple diaper on her rear visible. The babyish odor of diaper rash cream was immediately strong.
The look on Sally’s face as she turned to stand from between her daughter’s legs sticking out from the end of the bed was one of shock.
The look on Jordan’s face (although hidden to Alex by the bed) was one of horror. She quickly scooted backward and grabbed the nearest bits of fabric (which happened to be her pajama top) and tried to cover herself; cowering on the floor.
Jordan’s gawking teenage friend at the door couldn’t believe what she had just seen – or thought she had seen. She hadn’t forgotten the conversation the two had had the night Jordan was in the hospital but she honestly thought the diaper she had been forced to wear was a one time embarrassing scenario, not a nightly occurrence.
She wears a diaper every night? And her mom puts them on her? What the hell? Alex had thought completely confused.
Each of these thoughts, reactions, and feelings processed almost instantaneously in real time and Alex was the first to react.
“Oh…er…um…I’m so sorry….” She said closing the door tightly. “I just wanted to let you know that the Pajama Pants are too big for me!!!” She yelled now with the door closed trying not to make the situation more awkward than it already was.
“O…Ok Alex just give us a minute in here…”
Sally replied thinking, OH dear, this isn’t good; this isn’t how Jordan had envisioned it going I’m sure…
Although she had come to grips with Alex knowing about her diapers, she didn’t want her friend to SEE her wearing ONLY a diaper!
Jordan thought dejected, this isn’t how I had planned it.
Sally turned and looked at Jordan with pity. Shock still on the teenage girl’s face.
“I’m sorry sweetie; that wasn’t so good huh? Alex is your best friend though…she’s gonna understand. You wouldn’t have asked her to stay if you didn’t believe that. Let’s get your pj’s on so you can get to bed.”
After Jordan was covered (other than the outline and soft crinkle of her diaper), Sally put the bag of diapers away and opened the door – Jordan was now standing in the middle of the room where the bag had been.
“Ok Alex, sorry about that, what did you need?” Sally asked.
“Oh – Um…no, I’m sorry…” she looked at Jordan, “I just…these pajamas you gave me are a little big, do you have a smaller set?”
Visibly frazzled, Sally grabbed them. “Yeah.” She found a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt. “This’ll have to do for tonight then. Let me go make you a bed in Jordan and Mindi’s room.”
The two girls followed her across the house, Jordan quietly crinkling and bringing up the caboose. As they passed Mindi still at the table, Sally gave her a death look that communicated “PAJAMAS! PULL-UP! NOW!” without saying a word. She jumped into the caravan behind her big sister.
The process of making Alex’s bed on the floor in the bedroom was quick, tense, wordless, and full of unmistakable diaper crinkling. Jordan was far more embarrassed than she thought she would’ve been and couldn’t manage to say a word – finally slipping into bed and rolling over.
An hour or so later once Mindi was asleep, Alex broke the ice somehow knowing her friend was still awake.
“I’m really sorry Jordan….”
Silence.
“I didn’t mean to barge in on you like that; I just figured…I don’t know what I figured honestly…”
Silence.
“I…I thought you only wore like a straight up diaper-diaper that one time in the hospital? You said your mom was making you wear those GoodNite things from TV…”
Still silence although Alex could hear a couple sniffs of Jordan’s quiet crying.
“Why does she put it on you? Can’t you do it yourself? Does she do it like -- every night?...”
Still only the sound of sniffles.
“…I’m sorry Jordan…you don’t wanna talk…I get it…I just…I’m…I’m just sorry. You’re my best friend and I’m sorry. I don’t judge you ok? I just wanna understand. I don’t want you to feel alone…so if you don’t’ wanna talk that’s fine…but if you wanna tell me about it…I’ll always be here for you…”
Jordan was awake but didn’t know how to respond.
“…and I don’t care what you wear Jordie…and I don’t care if you wet the bed or if you have accidents or whatever. I don’t care…I love you Jordan and I care about you….”
After another pregnant pause, the girl in the purple adult diaper finally spoke.
“Thank-you Alex. You’re the best friend I could ever hope for or dream of having. I wanna tell you more about this – but not tonight ok? Let’s go to sleep.”
Disappointed yet happy, Alex said, “Ok Jordie, ok.” She got up and gave her friend a hug and then snuggled down for what remained of the night in her own bed.
############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 5, 2014 at 5:31 PM
Content: Chapter 18 – [January 3 & 7]
For a girl who felt all kinds of shame and confusion about wearing diapers nightly for uncontrollably peeing herself (and sort of was growing to like it), it felt odd to be treated with respect (or even celebrated) as an author. An activity most commonly associated in her mind with adults (and namely wise and mature adults), Jordan felt all the more weird to be seemingly simultaneously straddling the worlds of both writing and babyhood.
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In the end, Jordan had chosen to record her short story “Together in Space” herself. It took place at the NPR station near the University of Washington campus. The experience had been difficult, interesting, and also a little fun. She appreciated the support and respect granted her by the workers at the station. As she left, for the first time in her life she was filled with a sense that she had something unique and of value to offer to the world.
It was interesting however, when diapers or bedwetting came to mind as she was at work in that context – rather than bringing up peace like they had each night at home with her mom – brought her stress and anxiety. While visiting the station and working amongst such driven professionals, her growing acceptance (or even interest in) her mom’s care and the continued dawning of her appreciation for the infantile garments caused her to question herself in negative ways. The compliments of the station managers rolled off her back a little quicker than they might’ve otherwise. And she even questioned some of the former logic she had once believed that said she could become a great writer some day.
After the recording was all over, Jordan began to think in earnest about starting a new project. It had been over a month and a half since she had written anything outside of class and the hiatus was not becoming to her. She even wondered if the loss of that coping mechanism was leading her to have all new (and odd) feelings about she and her mom’s nightly routine. As she dreamed in their minivan, bouncing through the cold Seattle streets toward home, the idea came to mind of writing a story about a boy who can make himself disappear.
This project would be a book. A novel. Much longer and more complex than the simple short story about exploring Mars – but it could be a similar kind of science fiction theme once again. The boy might discover this ability as he was going through his teenage years and rather than embracing the power, he might be ashamed of it and try to hide it. Gradually, over time, he might show it to friends or use it as a cheap trick before it starts causing trouble for him.
As Jordan dreamed of what it would be like to begin work on this new project, she became more and more exited about the ideas that popped into her head. In fact, on their way home from the station, she had insisted her mom pull over at a drug store so she could run in and buy a cheap notebook to begin writing down thoughts that were pouring into her mind at every instant. The young writer was off to the races once again.
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At BCS on the first day after Christmas break, which was the first Monday following New Years Eve, Jordan was treated like a minor celebrity. The news of her semi-finalist status had traveled fast after Mr. Johns announced it in class the second week of December. The churches that supported the school had put the news (along with the NPR airtimes) in their weekly programs and moms had phoned each other with the positive (or negative) gossip. Everyone knew – and everyone had an opinion. By the time school was actually back in session, beyond knowing about the victory, they had actually heard Jordan narrate the story on the air as well – and she had knocked it out of the park. People loved her tale.
Her new friends Cindy and Riley were completely blown away by the quality of writing, by the way they were drawn in to Jordan’s story, by her eloquence on the microphone, by her inflection, and mannerisms. They almost couldn’t believe it was Jordan – and it made them proud to know her personally now that half the school was fawning all over her. The two made a pretty hard pitch to Georgia (back from her European Christmas escapades) for forgiving Jordan and joining them in alliance with her. She had readily accepted their proposal and although some tension remained between the two, Jordan felt as though she was in an entirely different place socially at BCS than she had been at the beginning of the year, including with Georgia.
This is not to say the tall girl with the bedwetting problem didn’t have enemies. Amber and Nicole were all too aware of Jordan’s newfound popularity and rather than feeling happy for her, they were incredibly jealous and incredulous. All year long, they had given her the hardest time about her height, look, appearance, gait, friend choice, lack thereof, and anything else they could think of.
Jordan had become the butt of all their jokes and the focus of all their laughs. She bad been called the “giraffe”, “stems”, “twiggy”, “Olive Oyle”, “sticklet”, “stretch”, and the list went on and on and on.
Perhaps the last straw for Amber and Nicole, leaders and stars of the same volleyball team Alex had played on through the fall, was when Joey Michael (the consensus cutest boy in Jr. High and also the best basketball player) had come over to Jordan’s table during lunch to specifically tell her that he had heard her story on the radio and really liked it. Although the two bullies had only overheard the compliment and hadn’t turned to look, Jordan’s friends saw that she had turned all sorts of shades of red and purple by his compliment and was barely able to squeak out a “thanks” as he walked away.
After lunch, but before class began again, the two girls schemed for ways in which they could destroy the unsuspecting giantess.
“This has got to stop! That idiot is nothing more than a goofy, tree eating nerd who’s 10 feet tall and lamer than…than…” Amber got hung up with her own slam before Nicole Jumped in.
“…She’s just so stupid! And UGLY! Have you ever once seen her come to school with good makeup? I mean, it’s only been since she started hanging out with that rich girl’s friends that she’s even started trying a little bit – and it’s God-damned terrible! Shit.”
“You’re tellin’ me! That girl is about as homely as they come – and about as uncoordinated of a tramp too. All that height and no skill. She’s like a diva – but without the looks – or the fashion – or the social skill – she’s got nothing….” Nicole said as they both laughed.
“So I’ve been meaning to tell you – you know what I heard from a 6th grader a few weeks ago?” Amber said.
Amber went on to tell her friend about a boy named Ed she had come to know in the waiting room of the principal’s office that week. A boy who, one day after school, back in November was in detention; he had heard a couple girls talking about some weird stuff right outside the open window of the classroom. The teacher wasn’t in the room, so the boy said he went up and sat on the floor under the open window, listening in on the conversation. What he heard was shocking apparently – a conversation between two girls that had been invited to a slumber party of a girl by the name of Georgia. One of them didn’t want to go because something might happen while she slept – something for which she wore some kind of special clothing item as a precaution. The boy had put two and two together pretty quickly and so had Amber – this girl outside the window wet the bed and wore pull-ups or something for it. He said he was too scared to look for fear of getting caught spying but it was a very strange exchange.
“Nicole! – it’s Jordan Reynolds! It has to be. She’s the only one who skipped that party – she’s the only moron stupid enough to get invited to a party at the house of the richest kid in school and turn it down…”
“And apparently…she pisses her little girlie pants in bedie-bye…”, Nicole said with a mischievous grin, “how tragic it must be to have such a terrible problem! And what a horrific nightmare it would be if – say – the whole school were to find out about it!”
They both laughed deviously.
“But you know,” Amber began, “If we just start telling people this like it’s gospel truth – it’ll probably get crushed immediately. It’s just scuttlebutt. Some kids’ll talk about it for a couple days; she’ll deny it if it comes to her and that’ll be that.”
“Especially since she’s so popular all of a sudden,” Nicole agreed, “It’ll end up being just a lame rumor and nothing more. We need this and something more – we need proof.”
“We need shock and Awe!” Amber said as the plan was becoming clear in her mind.
“Yeah -- you’re right girl! We need a smoking gun.” Nicole said. “It’ll come; we’ll get it. And that nasty stinky giant of a girl will squirm again.”
They both smiled together.
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During afternoon classes that Monday, one of the churches that operated an amazing summer camp sent staff to visit many if not all the Jr. High classrooms to do short presentations on what the experience would be like if students were to sign up. Jordan had heard of Camp White Pines for years and she had looked forward to the time when she would arrive in seventh grade and have the chance to go for the summer herself.
The camp was located in south central Washington State on the Columbia Plateau just north of the Columbia River. It was nestled in an arid zone but yet high enough on the slopes of the Cascade Mountains that it was still surrounded by trees. The facility had multiple cabins for troops of campers and their counselors, a pool complex, stage and worship center, mess hall, and acres of outdoor activities and hiking. Multiple times a week, the camp bus would drive campers the hour or so down to the river for skiing, wakeboarding, and swimming in the river.
To enroll – campers had to commit to the full summer, 6 weeks minimum or up to 10 weeks maximum. It was an old style camp unlike many other church sponsored camps, which had tended to switch over to a week-by-week model with staged ages. White Pines had a much more narrow age span (12-16) and was an all summer experience.
As the energetic collegiate and young adult staff described White Pines and encouraged the students at BCS to take their registration packets home to their parents and enroll, Jordan felt a growing sense of apprehension.
I’ve wanted to do this my whole life – but my wetting hasn’t stopped. AT ALL. How am I supposed to be at camp all summer if I’m peeing the bed? How am I supposed to wear diapers there and not get found out? Is that even possible? Has that ever happened?
And what about the fee? Would Dad even help pay for it? I doubt mom has the money? With that bitch Melissa in charge of Dad’s checkbook now, how can we even afford it?
She felt stressed just thinking about the idea of something that was supposed to be incredibly fun.
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That evening, Jordan poured out her concerns out about camp to her Mom as she got ready for bed. Sally knew that her daughter had been looking forward to White Pines Camp for years and she even had thought about it when the bedwetting proved to be a little more persistent than she had originally hoped.
“Well honey, your best friend knows about your diapers and bedwetting now – and she seems ok with it. You guys are just fine. Why would you expect your other friends to be any different?”
“MOM! I’m not friends with all those bitches!”
“JORDAN! Language!”
“Sorry – It’s just – I’m not friends with everyone who goes to BCS and there’re specifically some girls who really really hate me…if they found out about this, I bet my life would be over. And today, kids were like super nice to me because they all heard the radio show and they all like treated me almost like a celebrity and stuff. It was crazy…such a good change too.”
This girl is starting to sound more like a teenager every moment, Sally thought to herself.
“Hmmm. Well. Maybe there’s a way for you to go to camp and keep your diapers a secret from everyone else? Maybe we can find you some that are slightly thinner – maybe ones that have the fabric type backs like what Jen wears?”
An odd jolt passed through Jordan’s body as she envisioned a diaper like Jen’s fitting her body – it was a weird sensation to feel; and a weird thought to think for the first time. With no time to dwell on it though, she had to answer her mom in the pregnant silence.
“Yeah – I guess maybe so – I dunno… Maybe you can call the camp and ask if they’ve ever had someone like me and what they’ve done before?” Jordan suggested.
“Oh well that’s an idea – and it probably would be the best place to start. Tell you what Jordie, I’ll tell you what, tomorrow I’ll give them a call and figure out just that. I’m sure your impulse is right.”
“Thanks mom – and you know – I promised Alex that I’d go to her sleepover for her birthday…and I’ve got to do it…I’ve just got to. So maybe I could do some kind of test run with someone on that night too?”
“Good thinking honey. Now. Let’s get those clothes off – and into your diaper for tonight ok?”
“Ok”, Jordan smiled, happy but still feeling a sense of foreboding for what was to come at Alex’s party.
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 19 --- [January 14-19]
When Sally tried to call the camp over the subsequent week, the only thing she was able to hear back an answering machine requesting a detailed message and promising a prompt return call. She wasn’t about to leave medical details about her daughter out in the open on a device such as that so after leaving just her name and number the first time and hearing nothing back, she simply continued to call and continued to receive the same response.
Nothing.
In the end, Sally promised Jordan they’d get it figured out in the spring once the departure date for camp was closer. The application form did have a box to check in the medical section indicating ‘bedwetting’, which seemed promising to Sally that at least they had dealt with the issue before. She filled out the rest of the paperwork and had submitted it, leaving the questions rest for the time being.
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Approximately a week after the White Pines Camp enrollment blitz at BCS, Jordan woke up to a January Seattle morning not feeling normal at all. A relatively rare winter sun shone through the weathered wood-framed window, indicating the late hour in the day. She tried to roll out of bed, but couldn’t – a terribly hostile sickness had grabbed hold of her teenage body. Mindi’s bed on the other side of the blue and white striped rug in the center of the room appeared long vacated.
As the purple diaper-clad girl flopped the comforter to her waist, her strength failed her and only her left hand made it to a patch of rug on the floor where the suns warmth had done its work. Her balance had been thrown off however and so she continued to gradually, essentially helplessly, slide out of bed onto the floor into the puddle of light. Wearing only a t-shirt and diaper (which had been the norm at that point more or less), Jordan immediately felt extreme dizziness and nausea hit her. In addition, her stomach ached fiercely. Although she had only met ‘Aunt Flo’ three times in her short life, she could tell the difference between menstrual cramps and this new pain which was up more and toward her sides. Too weak and too unwilling to try to crawl back into bed, the girl lay in the sun, curled up like a cat. She moaned softly under the weight of her discomfort as she breathed.
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Three days earlier on Friday evening, Sally had noticed Jordan’s panties were unusually damp when she was getting her ready for bed. On Saturday evening, they were even damper and the urine had a distinct odor that was ‘off’ from the usual smell. In a matter-of-fact, mom-like way, Sally had asked her daughter if it had been hurting at all when she peed during the day, if she had been feeling like she had to pee more often than usual, or if she had been having problems getting to the bathroom in time.
“…Mooom!...why would you ask me something like that?...”, the teenager had responded defensively, suddenly snapping out of her customary nightly baby-like state. This reaction was enough for Sally to judge that she likely had indeed been experiencing the symptoms she asked about – those most women know as linked to a UTI.
“Jordie dear, you’ve been wearing diapers to bed now every night for essentially two months. It’s not surprising that you’d get a urinary tract infection once in a while. Girls get them all the time just by virtue of being girls. I’m just asking you about some of your symptoms so I can know. Your panties have been pretty wet the last couple nights and tonight…well…your pee smells a little funny dear…”
Feeling her embarrassment more clearly at that point but also thankful that she wasn’t (a) alone or (b) that her mom wasn’t just being nosy, Jordan responded, “…oh…well…yeah I guess it started hurting a little last week…and yesterday I felt like I had to go like every 20 minutes or I was gonna wet my pants…”
“…um, yeah…that sounds like a UTI---“ Sally said.
“A WHAT?!”
Sally looked slightly annoyed with her daughter’s seeming juvenility – particularly given her clear ability with words and giant vocabulary. “A UTI honey. A urinary tract infection – that’s what people call them – UTIs.”
“OH.” She paused to think. “So how do I get rid of it?”
“Well usually it takes a few days to run their course and sometimes women can clear them up by drinking a lot of water and cranberry juice…but other times we have to go to the doctor and get on antibio---“
“NOT THE DOCTOR AGAIN!” Jordan protested wild eyed.
The suggestion earned the young girl’s attention. Her previous appointment with Dr. Yepp was more than traumatizing and she wasn’t at all interested in a repeat visit.
“Well I doubt you’ll have to – but it’s not for a pelvic exam like you had last time anyways. It’d be for a urine sample and then a prescription for antibiotics…” Sally thought for a second before adding, “…that you would swallow orally.”
Slightly relieved Jordan replied, “Oh – well I guess that might not be quite as bad but I still don’t wanna go.” She paused for a moment and then said, “So do we have any cranberry juice or whatever?”
Sally had picked up all kinds of supplies and home remedies that Saturday and over the rest of the weekend hoping to find a way to avoid another visit to the doctor. But no matter how many interventions they tried, her status seemed to slowly decline hour by hour.
Jordan’s pain while peeing increased gradually over the subsequent hours as did her frequency. The need to pee slowly shifted into ‘urgency’ where at the drop of a hat, she would dash from any corner of the house or her bedroom to bathroom, pushing out of the way anyone blocking her path. For the first few hours after she was awake on Saturday, impulses came upon her every 15 or 20 minutes. Yet at the same time once she got to the toilet, she complained of not being able to actually “go”, that she had to go “SOOOO BAAAD!!” but couldn’t push out a much more than a drop. Fairly rapidly, both she, her sisters, and her mother became irritable and landlocked in the house as Jordan refused to go anywhere in her state.
As Saturday wore on, Jordan’s urgency began betraying her to partial accidents – leaking urine in her panties as she bolted to the toilet only before being unable to pee once she arrived. After several clothing changes by the late afternoon, Jordan asked for her night diaper and some Nyquil, which her mom happily provided.
Sunday proved to be more of the same, despite copious amounts of home remedy treatment: cranberry juice, water, and rest. Sally thought the poor girl must’ve been almost waterlogged with all the fluid they were pushing through her system – but she still didn’t seem to be getting better. In fact, by Sunday morning, she seemed to be acting a little lethargic. Sally dismissed it as a hangover from the Nyquil.
This is normal. She told herself, It’ll pass with time and rest.
Jordan’s frequency picked up Sunday morning and small accidents had started happening almost on the hour. Essentially indistinguishable from ordinary incontinence, Sally suggested putting a diaper back on her during the day as she lounged in bed feeling more and more weak by the minute. Jordan agreed and as Sally changed her, She had noticed that all the wetness on her diaper area over the past couple days from the wetting and additional diaper usage had contributed to fairly bad diaper rash. She added a thick layer of Desitin to the mix as well.
“This is gonna pass in just a few more hours honey, you’re almost out of the woods. Trust me. These are tough but you’re almost done.” Sally was confident late Sunday morning that the worst was over and that calling the doctor was overkill.
Had Jordan been more coherent and less focused on the increasing pain on her tummy just below her belly button, it would’ve struck her on that Sunday that it had been the first time in over 10 years that she had worn a diaper during the daytime. But because her UTI symptoms were so miserable, all she could focus on was lying still in bed, drinking liquids, and keeping a heating pad in place. Sally changed her a couple times during Sunday afternoon before announcing that the baby-like teen was “going down for the night” at 6pm.
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When Sally found her daughter curled up on the floor in a splash of sunlight at 10:30am Monday morning, it had only been an hour and a half since she had last stuck her head in the door. At 7, she had changed Jordan’s diaper and the odor of her urine had been even stronger than it had been all weekend.
Genuinely worried, Sally had thought, Hmmm, maybe we’ll have to take you in today honey. I’m sorry. But for now, let’s let you get some more sleep – the clinic isn’t even open yet. Rest will probably be the thing that helps her anyways.
She had applied a thick new layer of diaper rash cream, taped her big girl back up in a fresh purple diaper, and covered her up for more sleep. Jordan had hardly stirred. The same had been true when Sally changed her at 2am.
But at 10:30, Jordan was pale, sweaty, and lethargic. As she lay motionless curled up on the floor, the foul odor of her bacteria ridden urine filled the room.
“Jordie! Are you ok? You’ve fallen off the bed!” Sally rushed into the room and attempted to help her listless daughter to her feet.
Jordan had enough strength to crawl back onto the mattress with her mom’s help.
Having rapidly declined over the previous several hours, she didn’t look good at all. “Let me go get a thermometer dear.”
A minute later, Sally was back after having rifled through both bathrooms and then finally Jen’s room. “Sorry Jordie but all I could find was Jen’s rectal thermometer – you don't want to put this kind in your mouth.”
Jordan responded with incoherent mumbles
Quickly Sally untapped Jordan’s diaper and pulled it down. It was at this point that she noticed the darkness of her urine – as well as a few streaks of reddish brown.
Sounding slightly more frantic Sally said, “You just had your period two weeks ago. I think this blood is from your urine sweetie. Oh dear, you’re really sick,” Sally immediately felt ashamed of herself for not taking her daughter’s illness more seriously.
“We need to get you to the hospital. I’m really sorry honey. I should’ve taken you in sooner… MINDI!! Come in here and help me!”
After lubricating the thermometer in petroleum jelly, Sally inserted it (which caused the most lifelike response from her the fearful mom had seen since the previous afternoon). Well at least that’s encouraging, she thought. The old-fashioned mercury gauge read 104.9 degrees. That’s NOT encouraging however!
Just then, Mindi entered the room and froze. It had been Sally and Jordan’s habit to keep her diapering routine private and although she had known it was taking place, it was still a shock to see her older sister naked except a wet diaper opened up underneath her.
“Find me some sweats for Jordan, Mindi. Now Please. We’re going to the hospital.” The tone of her mom’s voice led the five year old to realize that she meant business.
Sally pulled out the wet diaper a little more forcefully than normal and had a little more difficult time getting a new one under her daughter as she was much less able to follow instructions in her infant-like state. Just as Sally was taping her up, Mindi found what appeared to her to be the only clean pair of pants in the room -- thin cotton school issue gym warm-ups from BCS.
“Thanks. Now Shoes and socks!” She said as she grabbed them and simultaneously sat Jordan up on the edge of the bed. After Mindi had found brought them, Sally instructed her to bring the house phone.
In a way only a mom could do, Sally magically was able to finish dressing Jordan, carry/shuffle her through the house, out the back door, and into the front seat of the car; recline that front seat, and belt her in – all while calling Jo Miller begging her to come over to watch the younger girls during the trip to the Emergency Room – and at the same time giving said younger girls strict instructions as to how to respect and obey their guest babysitter while she and their sister were gone.
By the time Sally had her own clothes changed, purse packed, and Jordan comfortable, Jo was at the house and ready to serve the fledgling family with a heart of kindness.
A loving hug and thank-you between old friends was and mother and daughter were off to the races. They headed to one of the last places in the world a thirteen year old wearing a thick purple would want to go: the small community hospital in their own neighborhood of Ballard. But she was so incoherent – she couldn’t even manage to be embarrassed.
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Jordan was delirious when they arrived at the Emergency Room and after Sally checked Jordan in with a familiar looking female Medical Assistant at the triage counter, the medical staff at the hospital acted swiftly. Evaluated in the lobby, her blood pressure and pulse were not normal and she was visibly shivering in addition to the elevated body temperature.
“Why didn’t you bring her in sooner!?” Barked the nurse at Sally accusingly.
Taken aback and already feeling embarrassed, all Sally could get out was a defensive sounding, “…I…well…um…I thought it was clearing up…and…well…she got bad like this really rapidly this morning…”
The nurse shook her head condescendingly and motioned for Sally to help Jordan into a wheelchair.
“Has she been incontinent all her life?” the nurse asked.
Confused by the question Sally responded “…w..ww…what?”
“The diapers! Has. She. PEED. HER. PANTS. Her. Whole. LIFE?” People in the lobby looked. Jordan’s puffy purple diaper poked out of the top of her sweatpants and was clearly outlined in the thin blue fabric. She almost resembled a mentally disabled person in her present state.
“No! Of course not! She’s…she’s…she just wets the bed,” sally tried to whisper in the public place. Feeling the eyes of strangers (or did she know some of them?) upon she and Jordan. “…and since this UTI had been getting worse yesterday, she’d been having more accidents so I just left her diaper on this morning…”
Looking disgusted, the nurse sized up Sally and her explanation and then responded with another grunt.
Once Jordan was back in a small ER room with a glass wall, things happened fast – then slow – then fast again – all day and into the evening. Jordan was given an IV in her arm for fluids right away, pain medication for her abdomen, and antibiotics for the infection. Her clothing was traded for a gown. Her diaper was traded for a thin disposable pad on the bed, and her perineal region was unceremoniously cleaned. After 4 or 5 hours of treatment, she began to slowly perk up and come to her senses once again.
“Mom, was I in a diaper when you brought me here?” she asked finally, leaning her head in her mom’s direction.
“…Well, yeah honey…I mean you were peeing yourself like every 10 minutes…and I’d guess you might still need something today for protection…”
“…Um yeah…I’m kinda like all soaking wet…” replied Jordan.
Sally pulled up the blanket and felt like the clock had been turned back 3 months to the days before her teenager was in diapers. Jordan, her gown, and all her bedding were soaked in dark yellowish-brown urine. Without consult, Sally pressed the nurse call button and a familiar voice at the other end answered.
“How can I help you?”
“Oh, my daughter just needs some help in here with new bedding.”
“…Oh…ok…I though she was in a diaper?” Said the voice.
What the hell? Sally thought, How about a little privacy lady?
“Um…well not now…would you please just send someone in here to help?” Sally said with a little more edge to her voice.
“Eye Eye!! Yes Ma’am!!”
It’s that girl at the front desk, how do I know her? Her voice is so familiar…and I knew I recognized her face when we came in. Sally thought to herself.
Once a nurse made it to Jordan’s room, the teenage girl sitting on what looked like a glorified puppy pad was beginning to feel itchy and uncomfortable. As it turned out, the nurse who came to assist was the one from the lobby who had previously been so rude with Sally about Jordan’s condition.
“What d’you need?” she barked as if disturbed from a nap.
“Well Jordan here needs some help with new bedding.”
“I thought you said she wasn’t incontinent!” The nurse wasn’t getting any nicer.
“Well from what I’ve been told, apparently she’s got a bladder infection which, as the DOCTOR said, sometimes can lead to acute incontinence – clearly she’s improving but all the pain pills you gave her knocked her out and the first thing you did was take off her diaper – so yeah, I guess the bed’s wet now and you’ve made a little additional work for yourself.” Sally glared at the woman in smug victory.
The nurse went to work roughly pulling off the sheets and commanding Jordan to sit up. Sally helped her and just about the time Jordan was standing barefoot on the cold tile floor, wet gown clinging to her otherwise bare body, driblets of urine still leaking down her leg, an overly cheery woman cracked the sliding glass door and popped her head inside.
“Oh great! You’re getting taken care of Jordan. Glad to see it!” It was the woman from the front desk again, happy as can be.
Jordan awkwardly looked at her mom confused as to why this intrusion.
I do know her!! That’s Anne from church. What the hell is wrong with her? Sally thought.
“Yep.” Sally said curtly.
“Well let me know if you need anything else!!” She said as if she were a hotel concierge.
A quick nod from each of them and she was gone.
In the meantime, the nurse had already stripped the bed and laid new sheets down along with a new blue pad pad. “Alright Jordan take that gown off.” She said holding up a clean one.
Embarrassed, Jordan complied and didn’t like the feeling of being stark naked in front of such a crotchety and prickly person. But there was no choice.
“Can’t she clean up or anything before putting new clothes on? I mean look at her?” Sally interjected before the clothing exchange had fully taken place.
The nurse glanced down and saw the wetness on Jordan’s legs.
“For God’s sake! Yeah I’ll get you some wipes.” The nurse exclaimed with annoyance.
“What if you just get us a couple diapers? It’ll make your job and our lives a little easier until we go home.” Sally suggested.
The nurse thought for a second. “…we don’t normally do that lady…” but then she thought about how she didn’t like helping with this kind of perineal care and added, “…but I’ll see what I can do.”
A couple minutes later the nurse had returned with a small stack of blue plastic diapers. Jordan hadn’t seen ones like these before. They didn’t appear nearly as thick as her purple ones from home and the plastic sounded much louder as it crinkled.
Hmmm, Sally thought noticing the same things about them. Those don’t look nearly as nice as the ones from the University Medical Center. Go-Figure.
“Alright Jordan can your roll to your left side?” The nurse said holding a diaper in her hands.
Confused, Jordan obeyed and the nurse proceeded to pull her gown up and stuff the diaper under her, hospital style. “Ok roll over again.”
Jordan obeyed and the nurse followed suit, pulling the other side of the diaper through and under Jordan. Flopping her gown up on her tummy and leaving her diaper region exposed, the nurse pulled the thin diaper up between her legs and taped the single tape on each side. She hurriedly bustled away and left the room leaving Jordan lying on the bed with her diaper exposed and no covers.
It was thin. She could tell that. And very loose. It felt like she was wearing a plastic bag in fact – not at all like her diapers from home. Because of these realities, as well as because of her sickness, the diaper wasn’t nearly as comfort-inducing either. As Sally covered her up tenderly and patted her on the head, she drifted off to sleep under the weight of pain medication. It was still only one in the afternoon.
-----------------
By early evening, the hospital was ready to release the diapered teenager. She had dampened two hospital diapers by then and her mom had changed her each time. Furthermore, Sally had put her in a dry one for the trip home. After signing all the consent papers and insurance forms and pocketing the proper prescriptions for antibiotics and pain pills, the two sauntered out of their room toward the lobby. The instructions from the doctor had been to get plenty of rest, to drink copious amounts of water, and to take the antibiotics until they were finished.
Much more coherent now, Jordan could feel and hear the crinkly blue hospital diaper under her sweatpants. She wasn’t wearing panties over it so it sounded even louder than it might have otherwise and she wasn’t at all accustomed to being in a public place wearing a diaper.
On their way out towards the lobby, the two walked by the desk station of the Medical Assistant who had checked them in and had awkwardly visited Jordan’s room while she was getting cleaned up earlier in the day. The desk was empty. As Jordan passively eyed it over however, she slowed her gait.
Setting on the lady’s desk, the tall hazel-eyed brunette saw trinkets, paperweights, and pictures. And to her horror, a familiar face leapt out of one particular frame. It was a picture of this woman, the Medical Assistant, along with her arm around a girl she knew all too well from school! They were standing there smiling into the camera as if they were friends.
As if they were family!
Fully stopped now, and garnering her mom’s attention, Jordan looked a little more frantically across the woman’s desk. She saw a nameplate by the computer keyboard. “Anne Rodgers” it read.
Noticing the same details on the desk, Sally had put together the identical equation as her daughter.
That’s Nicole’s last name! A lighting bolt of fear jolted through the young girl (as well as her mother).
No, no, no, no, please, no, this can’t have happened!
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 7, 2014 at 6:06 AM
Content: Chapter 20 – [January 15]
After having been in the ER for the better part of the day Monday, Jordan stayed home from school to recover on Tuesday (and Wednesday as well). Because Ted was of no more use with childcare than he had ever been (especially given the divorce filings and mistress), Sally was on her own to take care of her ‘patient’. Because she had finally pinned down a job as a CPA at an accounting firm and because she was still a new employee there, she had no extra sick days or vacation time to surrender in order to stay home.
Effectively a full-time single mom then, Sally had a problem: what am I gonna do with Jordan tomorrow? Jen could go to daycare and Mindi to Kindergarten like normal, but there’s no way Jordie’s gonna be in a position to make it to school already and she certainly needs help around the house! What am I gonna do?
Jo Miller, Alex’s mom, once again in a short span of time became a lifeline for Sally; this time, as a stand-in babysitter and nurse. The stressed mom had talked with her Monday night after returning home from the ER almost frantic with fear. She hadn’t exactly dumped her fear in an effort to get Jo to come over and help again so much as to just vent – but her dear friend had quickly insisted on being the babysitter as long as she needed it.
I can’t believe my luck to have such an amazing friend – I can’t believe I didn’t realize how amazing she is!
---------------
The ER Doc had finished evaluating Jordan’s bladder infection symptoms and examining her diaper rash before announcing in shock, “most girls her age are able to keep themselves dry at night”. His primary suggestions for clearing up the rash, as well as for preventing a future infection were “taking a break from the diapers – permanently ideally – but even for a night or two will help. Don’t you know there are other options for treating nocturnal enuresis?” He had scolded.
Of course Jordan didn’t really want to try other treatments for her nighttime problem by this point in her life and Sally wasn’t interested in adding extra work to her plate now that she was a full time single mother. As for treating the bladder infection she had already contracted, antibiotics, rest, and water were the doctor’s orders.
Over the following evening and subsequent night, Jordan’s pain in her back and abdomen became quite a bit more bearable. In fact as a kind gesture to her mom, on Tuesday morning she had asked if she ought to go to school so that Sally wouldn’t have to worry while she was at work.
“No Jordie, you’re still very sick dear. You need to be in bed at least another day like the doctor said.” Sally said sitting on the side of sick teen’s bed stroking her hair.
“Oh, well I’ll probably be ok here alone I guess.” She still looked rather pale and was clearly fatigued.
“Well no – actually I don’t think you will dear,” Sally said getting up and pulling back the covers, “Mrs. Miller is gonna come over today and stay with you while I go t-----“
“MOM NO!” Jordan tried to sit up but felt her arms slightly buckle.
“Listen Jordie, Mrs. Miller is a very good friend of mine. She doesn’t work. And her daughter already knows about your wetting and diapers and everything. She offered to come help both of out today – and God knows you need it.” At that Sally continued to undress her daughter.
“Jo will take very good care of you and she won’t mind at all helping you with these.” She held up Jordan’s wet diaper rolled up and taped in a ball. Sally began replacing the soggy diaper with a fresh one instead of panties as she said, “And I think you need to stay in one for today at least. We’ll see how well you do with the leakage. Ok?”
Still feeling the weakness in her body and the dull ache in her lower back and abdomen, Jordan gave up and let her mom do the deed. She knew her mom was right. I probably could use some help. But I’d rather have a stranger than Alex’s Mom!
“Ok.” The teenage said with a slight tone of defeat in her voice.
Although wearing diapers and being looked after by her mom had become something she was starting to appreciate in some ways, Jordan didn’t care for them nearly as much when they were an absolute requirement (as in this circumstance) – much less when outsiders were in charge of doing the changing!
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[January 16]
The plan Tuesday was for Jo to be over to the house on 22nd ave. by about 7am so that Sally could give her a quick walkthrough before taking Mindi to Kindergarten. Jo had said that she would be fine keeping Jen at the house as well and Sally had agreed that she might like a break from daycare.
Jordan’s involuntary loss of urine had continued through Monday evening, Monday night (as usual), and Tuesday morning. When Jo arrived, Jordan had been freshly diapered for the day after she and her mother’s conversation about ‘the babysitter’ and she was lying in bed almost asleep once again.
“Thank you so much for doing this one more time Jo, I can’t tell you how much it means to me.” Sally said in the kitchen as she was putting the last of her files in her briefcase, smiling widely. Tears began to creep into her eyes, “It’s such a relief to know that I can leave the girls in good hands that I can trust.”
“Oh Sally! Of course! I’m more than happy to help you out! I’m so happy you trusted me enough to ask. You’ve been there for me for so many years and so has the whole church – I can’t help but want to give back for what I’ve received.” Sally smiled genuinely.
“A couple things you should know for today before I go…” Sally took a breath, “You know that Jordan’s been wetting the bed for quite a while now…”
She looked for confirmation and Jo nodded.
“…and we’ve been using diapers to manage that…?” Sally looked for an acknowledgement once again.
“Oh yeah, sure…”
“Well…” she had a bit of apprehension in her voice, “her bladder infection has caused some temporary light incontinence – so I went ahead and just changed her into a new diaper this morning instead of having her put on regular clothes...just in case it’s still a problem today.” Sally gave Jo a slightly cockeyed smile and raised her eyebrows. She felt a little embarrassed of the situation. “The doctor says it’ll probably clear up by tonight at the latest but I didn’t want you to have to deal with wet sheets all day because she really needs to stay in bed and rest. I hope you don’t have a problem changing her once or twice…do you?” Sally looked at her once again with some fear for confirmation.
A little surprised by the unusual request, Jo hesitated for a moment and then responded, “…oh, well…hmm…I guess not. But won’t that be awkward for Jordan? She can’t do it herself?”
“I always help her – I guess maybe I just got in the habit from the very beginning. It’s something she really does need a hand with. It’s leaked badly when she’s done it in the past. But maybe she can be in charge today if you’d rather not…maybe you can ask her about it…” Sally felt like she was back peddling.
“Oh ok. No I’d be fine with it as long as she’s comfortable. I’ll talk with her…So where are her…um…supplies?” Jo asked cautiously.
“Oh. Yes. Well there are diapers in her closet and you (or she or whatever) need to make sure to apply diaper rash cream that’s on her night stand – she’s got a pretty bad rash going and I might have to take her into the doctor for something a little more powerful. Throw the used diapers into the back outside trash can in a tied up grocery sack.”
“O…ok…sure. I think we can handle that…” Jo said once again feeling even a bit more awkward about the thought of diapering a teenage girl. Yet at the same time, she felt committed to her friend and steeled in her willingness to do what it took to get through the day as requested.
“Alright well – thanks again Jo, you’re like an angel for me today.” Sally smiled widely and moved to hug Jo.
The younger woman responded warmly. “You’re very welcome.”
---------------
The morning had been quiet and uneventful. Jordan had slept hard still under the influence of pain medication and also simply feeling zapped of energy from her infection. Jo and Jen played games in the living room and red books and had a grand time. When Jo had popped her head in Jordan’s room a couple times before noon, the teenagers was fast asleep and in the same position both times, curled up on her side underneath the light blue comforter in her bed in the corner.
At noon when Jo checked on her however, the diapered teen was clearly awake and noticed her strange (yet familiar) caretaker peering in the door.
“Hi Mrs. Miller.” her voice crackled dryly but with decent cheer.
“Hi Jordan, how’re you feeling?” Jen poked her head in the door as Jo responded.
“A little better I think…mostly groggy right now cuz I just woke up…I think I wanna take a bath or something…” Jordan started moving to roll out of bed.
“Right! Sounds like a good idea...” taking a step toward the teenager in bed Jo asked, “…um, so…so you uh….need…er….want…some help?”
Jordan felt embarrassed by the question – it was her best friend’s mom after all – and it felt awkward to have her in the house at all while she was still in bed wearing little more than a wet diaper. It had been one thing to have her mom helping with those intimate needs. It would be another thing entirely to have a friend’s mom do it. At the same time, she knew that getting into her own diaper herself was a challenge. And if she was still leaking urine, she’d need a diaper. But for the moment, the task was just getting her diaper off, something Jordan knew she could do herself.
“…well, I think I can handle it for now Mrs. Miller…I’ll let you know if I need some help.”
Somewhat relieved, Jo said “Ok,” and turned to leave.
Before she could get out the door however, the padded teenager rolled sideways in her bed and slipped out from under her bedspread and onto her knees on the wood floor. She was wearing just a soggy swollen purple diaper and a fitted t-shirt. Unable to keep from glancing down, Jo was more than a little shocked at the sight. She hadn’t expected a full-blown thick plastic backed diaper – and so full of pee! Rather, she assumed Jordan would be wearing something like what they show on TV: thin, with cloth like outer covers, and just slightly more discrete.
Jordan crawled to her feet, turned, offered an awkward half smile to Jo and crinkled past her toward the bathroom, saggy purple diaper almost touching her inner knees. Jo’s shoes clicked on the hardwood floor as she backed up giving the diapered teen way.
During this interaction Jen had walked down the hall to investigate. She hadn’t seen her sister openly in a diaper before and was wide eyed as Jordan rounded the corner from her room. Sally had gone out of her way to close and lock doors during changes and Jordan, in her more lucid states, had been sure to keep covered when out and about in the house.
“Jowwdie – whaiy weawing diiawpur?” She said confused.
Quickly, Jo responded – reminded of Sally’s instructions to keep Jen away from Jordan’s diapers and potential changes, “Oh Jen, your sister is just sick and so she has to wear a diaper for a day or two.”
“Owww Jowwdie’s sick – Jowwdie’s sick so she weaws diawpur.” Jen repeated.
Oops, I hope that sticks, thought Jo as the shower turned on behind the closed bathroom door. That could be bad for both to Jen’s potty training as well as Jordan’s secret staying a secret.
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Several minutes later, Jo could hear Jordan calling for her from the bathroom. The shower had stopped running and steam was built up in the hallway. It smelled like shampoo. Jen was set up playing with Play-Doh in the living room, far away from any incriminating sights.
Knocking on the hollow painted door, Jo called out, “I’m here Jordan what’s up?”
“You can come in…” the voice called out.
As Jo cracked the door, a cloud of steam pushed out. The room was muggy, the mirror fogged, and the tile floor slick. Jordan, the teenage diaper-wearing bed-wetter, was sitting on the toilet with nothing more than a towel wrapped around her.
“Mrs. Miller it still hurts really really bad when I try to pee. And I can’t really get anything to come out when I try. But when I stand up like in the shower, it just kinda comes out on its own…”
“Oh dear…sounds like the infection isn’t quite over yet…”
“Yeah…” Jordan paused not wanting to say what she thought she needed to say. “An..an…And…I…I… think…I…I…think…I need a….a…”
The embarrassed girl simply couldn’t get it out in front of her best friend’s mom.
“It’s ok sweetie. It kinda seemed to me like you might need one still too. I’d say you definitely need to stay in bed in any case.” Jo smiled with compassion as Jordan looked down in shame. “Jordan would do you want to do it yourself…or are you trying to ask me for help?” Jo’s confidence had grown a bit after being called on for assistance and after seeing how ashamed of the whole thing she seemed to be.
“....y…uh…yeah….a….actually…I do need some help…” Jordan replied.
“Ok – so how does your mom usually…um…help you…like on your bed? Or in here on the floor? Or what?”
“…uh…well… on the bed is fine.”
“Alright well I’ll go out and wait in there. As soon as your ready is fine, but you might wanna act quick though, we wouldn’t want you to leak on the floor.” Jo cracked a small smile.
Jordan, still wrapped loosely in the towel, jumped up and made her way from the bathroom to her bedroom. Jo followed suit and remembering what Sally had said about Jordan’s diapers, slid open the mirrored closet door and rifled around in the closet until she found the bag of Molicare adult diapers. At the same moment, Jordan with her back to Jo and her towel now moved down around her waist fished out a clean t-shirt from her dresser. She was just slipping it over her head as the motherly babysitter turned holding Jordan’s diaper in her hand.
Their eyes met after which Jordan’s big hazel globes moved to the babyish garment. An awkward silence ensued.
“Are you ready sweetie?” Jo asked, “You sure you want help?” Trying to reassure her and offer an out.
“Yeah I’m ready; and yeah, I think I’d like you to do it Mrs. Miller.” She said with an almost undetectable shy smile.
They took a step toward the bed simultaneously and as Jordan neared the edge, she backed her rear up and laid back. With her legs hanging off the side, she (somewhat surprisingly for Jo) seemed to relax a bit; placing her hands at her side and laying her head back.
Approaching her more closely and reaching for the towel, Jo said “Ok Jordie honey, I’m gonna open up your towel ok?”
Jordan didn’t say a word or budge.
Hmm, ok then. Do I just…start? Jo thought feeling more than a little awkward.
She unwrapped the damp cotton towel and exposed Jordan below the waist. She sure looks juvenile lying here helpless like this; almost like her sister Jen.
Jo picked up the purple diaper she had set on the bed and gently unfolded it and examined it, orienting it correctly. Meanwhile, Jordan’s hazel eyes followed Jo, but slowly seemed to be losing their edge of embarrassment and fear. As the process edged on, she slowly appeared to becoming increasingly comfortable, which Jo found both calming herself as well as disquieting.
Jo found the side with the tapes and held it taught, sliding it toward Jordan’s rear end.
“Ok lift up your butt Jordan.”
She obeyed without moving her head.
Before taping, Jo noticed Jordan’s enflamed rashed diaper region and inner thighs, “Good-night Jordie! Your mom wasn’t kidding about this rash. You’re really raw down here. Doesn’t it hurt? Where is that cream you’re supposed to have?”
Momentarily, Jordan snapped out of her almost meditative state to point and say, “Oh, I think it’s there on my bed side table.”
Jo saw the tube and grabbed it. Clumsily, she squeezed out a small amount and quickly attempted to smear it on her daughter’s best friend’s privates while allowing as little skin-to-finger contact as possible. She felt quite awkward about the process. Wiping off her hand on the edge of Jordan’s towel, Jo said, “There, that’s better I think.”
Jordan didn’t respond but now turned her head to quietly look out toward her westward facing window. She very gently began rocking, more or less assuming her typical state of absent-minded day dreaming during diaper times with her mother. Jo couldn’t help but wonder, having witnessed the shift, if the teenage girl might be getting some kind of strange emotional support from the routine. She immediately dismissed the idea as unlikely however, arguing to herself that, she’s just completely exhausted and ready for this to be over with – that’s all.
The stand-in mom pulled Jordan’s diaper up and carefully taped each of the four tapes into place. To Jordan, it felt a little different than when her own mom did it – slightly less tight – but still good. Once snug and secure, she twisted into the right sleeping positing and bedded down, wet spot and all.
Jo bent down and kissed her forehead. “Alright Jordan dear, take a rest and feel better ok?”
“Ok. Thanks Mrs. Miller.” She whispered.
“No Problem Jordan.” She said as she walked toward the bedroom door.
“Mrs. Miller?” Jordan pepped up momentarily.
She turned and said, “Yeah honey?”
“You’re not gonna tell anyone about my diapers are you?”
Taking a few more steps back toward the cute (and slightly pathetic) tall teenage girl, Jo replied emphatically, “NO! Of course not! I’d never betray your trust sweetie.”
Jordan thought for a moment, “Oh. Thank-you Mrs. Miller….”
Jo turned to go once again.
“Um…Mrs. Miller?” Jordan called out another time.
“Yes?” Turning around again, she looked into Jordan’s Hazel eyes.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jo stepped back toward the girl’s bed.
She looked much younger and much more, well, at peace now that she was all tucked in. “I guess. Sure.” She said.
“In the hospital, the lady at the desk had a picture of this girl from school in a frame – Amber. Well, it was with the two of them together. I know it’s not Amber’s mom because I know what she looks like. But I think they’re like cousins or aunt and niece or something….”
“Uh huh…” Jo responded listening intently.
“Well the girl is like the meanest in Jr. High. She’s been one of the worst to me all year… What if her friend of aunt or family member (or whoever that was) tells? What if she gossips about me to the girl in school? She knows who I am and what school I go to and my church and everything – and she walked in on me getting changed and she knows why I was at the hospital…What if she tells Mrs. Miller?” Jordan started to cry.
Oh poor baby. Jo thought. She’s carrying this around like a giant weight on her shoulders.
Fear was in her voice and face. Jo could see it and hear it clearly. Taking another step closer and sitting down on the bed again, Jo said, “Oh Jordan dear, it sounds like you feel pretty afraid that people are gonna find out about your secret about the diapers huh?…”
“Uh huh.” She said honestly, sounding almost like a toddler.
“And what would happen if that took place? How would you feel?” Jo reflected back, trying to help Jordan work through some of the raw emotion.
“It’d be the worst thing ever! All the kids would hate me. My life would be over. I’d probably want to switch schools.”
“Yeah. And how would you feel about it?”
“Um…I don’t know?...Maybe embarrassed? Ashamed? Angry? A whole bunch of stuff I guess. That’s not the point though!…” The young girl didn’t realize that Jo was trying to get her to process at a more adult level.
“Well how do you think you’d make it through that if it happened? How would you cope?”
This made Jordan pause for a couple seconds. How would I cope? What the hell is she saying? What would I do? Where would I turn? I don’t know right now honestly! How am I even supposed to know?
“I don’t know…” She said trying to dismiss the line of questioning, still not understanding its importance, “but Mrs. Miller – what about that Rodgers lady from the ER? Can she just go around blabbing to everyone about me?” Jordan asked.
Jo decided to quit pressing her ‘agenda’, “Well, you know that Bob’s a doctor right?”
Jordan nodded.
“And so I hear about these kinds of things from time to time. A few years ago a law got passed that is called ‘HIPAA’; kind of sounds like hippo.” She smiled. “One of the things it says is that medical people can’t just go and share private things about you to their friends or family or else they can be fired or sued. It’s a really big deal Jordan and medical professionals take it very seriously.”
“…Oh…wow…”
Jo was rubbing Jordan’s arm and patting her hand, “I think it’s extremely unlikely that she would ever ‘blab’ about a patient because she would lose her job immediately and probably worse.”
Thinking about this for a moment Jordan then spoke, “But let’s say she did. You know, tell Nicole or something? She’d get punished, but Nicole could still tell everyone at school and that could never get taken back!”
“…Hmm…I guess you’re right honey…but I don’t think you should worry about that today…”
But she did – Anne Rodgers is gonna be my undoing I can FEEL it.
Jordan the diaper wearing seventh-grader writhed in fear under the weight of her ongoing illness.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 8, 2014 at 12:23 AM
Content: Chapter 21 – [January 18, 2002]
At school on Thursday, Jordan was terrified she would be found out by her smell alone. To the teen’s surprise, Sally had insisted that morning on smearing Desitin cream on her still brightly red-rashed diaper region after showering.
“Jordan you need to put this cream on during the day so we can get this thing cleared up. It’s hardly looking any better!” Sally had said as Jordan stood looking in the mirror, towel wrapped around her tall slender body under her armpits and a second wrapped around her brown hair.
“Moom! I already smell like Jen in the morning when I get up. Now you want me to wear it all day too?” She complained.
“Jordie – we’re getting rid of this rash for better or worse! Doesn’t it hurt you anyways? It’d sure bother me!” Sally paused. “Now you can either put it on yourself or get over here, bend over, and I’ll do it for you!”
Diapers were one thing. But having her mother manage all her perineal care was another thing entirely.
I guess I’ll be wearing white panties today then. She had thought as she snatched the tube from her mom and pushed the bathroom door closed.
Everywhere the seventh-grade girl walked that day in the concrete-floored and raw wood beamed halls of BCS, she smelled whiffs of her Desitin.
MY DESITIN!! She thought embarrassed. Although she had grown to appreciate the odor during diaper times at night, she hated how it lingered all day. In fact, when Alex pulled her aside during lunch, she was positive the conversation was going to be about that very thing – Jordan cringed in expectation of a comment…
“Jordan!! Are you ok? You’ve been gone for like a week! What happened!?” Alex exclaimed in a hushed voice.
Jo Miller had decided not to tell her daughter about the temporary daytime babysitting gig that week. She had wanted Jordan to maintain as much privacy and dignity as possible. If she wants to tell Alex about it, that’s her prerogative, I’m not gonna break any rapport I’ve built. She had thought to herself.
As a consequence, Jordan’s absence from school was a mystery to Alex much like her own mother’s daily activities always were.
Jordan proceeded to briefly describe the previous day’s medical fiasco (other than Jo’s medical care). Alex was surprised but able to intuitively see the connection between Jordan’s bedwetting and the UTI turned bladder infection – the tall girl telling the story didn’t volunteer a detailed explanation.
“We need to talk about this Saturday night,” Alex said changing the subject and referring to her slumber party.
“Oh.” Jordan’s face fell.
“Well you know how I told you my mom said I could have it at my house because my Dad is still at treatment?”
“Yeah…”
“Well I…I’ve never had one before you know…and…um…well…I wanna kind of have a big one…”
“…ok…” Jordan replied with a little more suspicion in her voice.
“So I…well…I…um…my mom and I….decided to invite ALL the girls in Jr. High…”
“WHAT!?! Alex!! What the hell?” Jordan was immediately terrified of her arch enemies Amber and Nicole.
“I know Jordan – I knew you wouldn’t be thrilled about this but…I didn’t want anyone to feel left out and there was no other good way to do it… And…you know…it’s not something…I’ve never gotten to do this before…my dad is so crazy…,” she started to tear up, “this might be my one chance…”
Jordan looked at her incredulously. Arms crossed across her blouse and necktie.
“…I just wanna have a big dance party with music and lots of people and food…your style is different…this is what I want for my birthday…”
Not knowing what to say, Jordan still just stood there looking at her. Scared and disappointed and angry.
“…will you still please come? I know you’d rather have a small group like your party…I know some people will come that are mean to you and that you don’t like…but will you come? For me?” Alex looked her in the eyes.
Through clenched teeth, arms still crossed Jordan responded, “Yes.”
Immediately the much shorter Alex lunged for the tall girl and grabbed her in a full body hug around the waist and chest. “Thank you!!!” she exclaimed.
Jordan staggered back a couple steps into the wall and awkwardly held up her hands, not really knowing what to do with them at first and then patting Alex’ back before she finally let go.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do about…you know what…though?” She whispered and glanced down toward her pleated school uniform skirt. “Where will everyone be sleeping? What if I…?”
“Well I’m not sure Jordie…not everyone will stay probably. But most of us will sleep on the floor up in the second living room above the garage.” Jordan knew the room. It was a large open space with only a couple couches and a large screen TV and a piece or two of exercise equipment.
“What about my…how will I…?” Jordan was extremely concerned about her wetting, diapers, and the logistics of what would happen.
“…I…um…I’m not sure…” Alex paused, “at your birthday that night I was trying to ask you, does your mom always do it for you…I mean, put them on? I mean…can’t you…do it yourself?” She kind of smirked at that.
Jordan smiled back a tiny bit thinking back about the shame of Alex walking in on her getting a diaper change, the distance of a few weeks had worn a bit of the humiliation off of it. “Well…um…she usually does it…I…uh…,” thinking about the weekend at her Dad’s house, “…because…I….kinda…uh…leak if I do it…myself…”
The tall girl looked down at her feet. Embarrassed.
“Jordan! Relax! I’m your best friend remember? Don’t get like that. I’m not gonna judge you. I’m just trying to help.”
Jordan nodded quickly and Alex thought for a moment in the silence, “…well didn’t you wear those good-night panties for a while…? Why can’t you wear one of those for the party? You…you can put those on yourself…right?”
Thinking back on the earlier days of her wetting ‘career’ she said, “…oh…um… yeah…but those leaked almost always too…even worse actually…that’s why my mom got the….,” she could hardly say the word, “d…d…diapers”.
“…Hmmm…” Alex thought some more. “Well what if my mom helped you with it?” It was almost a throw away suggestion; one that Alex didn’t expect an affirmative response from.
Immediately Jordan’s mind flashed to the events of the previous two days – the way that Mrs. Miller had awkwardly at first, and then more naturally eventually cared for her diaper needs.
She must’ve not told Alex what she was doing all day Tuesday and Wednesday. Jordan thought as her trust and fondness for Mrs. Miller grew. Maybe she could?
“…Oh…hmmm…well…Maybe she could do it…I guess…” Jordan’s frown rose the tiniest bit and she looked up.
Alex was more than a little surprised by her friend’s agreement to that suggestion. She had expected a dismissal. “Really!? Well I can ask her about it I guess…it might be kinda weird Jordan…”
“…oh yeah…that is…if she’s ok with it….” Jordan recovered worried she might’ve given the secret she and Mrs. Miller shared away and then paused, “…but how will I get into bed without everyone hearing…it?”
Alex thought for a second, “Well, what if----“
Just as she was about to lie out her plan, the bell rang for the next class and it was chaos in the lunch hall.
“Let’s talk later!” The birthday girl hollered over the drum of the masses.
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[January 20, 2002]
They never did have the conversation – but on Saturday night just 2 days later, Jordan arrived at Alex’s heavy double front doors; sleeping bag in one hand with a pillow under her arm, and a duffel bag with it’s concealed cargo hidden deep inside. The tall teenage brunette was cheery and acted enthusiastic about her arrival: the first friend of the crowds to come.
It did end up being a crowd too; about 35 girls from the 7th & 8th grade classes from BCS as well as some others from Alex & Jordan’s church showed up to the party. The cloud of teen spirit danced joyfully together to music in the large tiled entryway atrium under the 80’s vintage brass chandelier, a large group squeezed the majority of the water out of the Miller’s hot tub on the back deck, others baked cookies and decorated them, while another group did makeovers in the large master bathroom upstairs.
Later in the evening, the gaggle watched “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” which had just been released on DVD that winter. In the small church community, the Harry Potter books (and movie) had been somewhat controversial because of their themes of witchcraft. Some of the girls (who’s parents had instructed them to avoid such material) quietly dismissed themselves from the film and made their way to Alex’s bedroom to sit and talk. Although Jordan’s parents didn’t keep her from seeing or reading Harry Potter (she had a poster of the Wizard on her wall for that matter!), she had already seen the film twice in the theatre and wasn’t interested in sitting through it another time, so at 11 O’clock at night, she found herself in Alex’s room with an odd group of 9 girls that unfortunately included both Amber and Nicole.
The girls gossiped about their teachers, boys, and their youth group leaders. They told funny stories and jokes about nonsense and nothing and laughed and laughed and laughed. Jordan felt herself even wondering if she could one day become friends with the two older girls who had tormented her so much earlier in the year.
Then it happened.
Looking around the room aiming for everyone’s attention, Amber said, “Hey you guys, guess what I heard from Ed Jones?”
“Ed who?” another girl named Maggie piped up, a little too enthusiastic to hear the story.
“You know? Ed. That ADHD kid who’s always in trouble and has to stay after school for detention? I think he’s a 6th grader or something.”
A smattering of nods responded around the circle of girls sitting on Alex’s pink bedspread adorned bed and fluffy white carpet floor.
“Why were you talking to him?” Maggie asked again almost interrupting, and giggled.
“Listen do you want me to tell the story or not?” Amber snipped her off, not wanting to get into the details of why she had been in the principal’s office herself.
The group was quickly put back on edge – Amber is still in charge. Of course.
“Well – “ she smiled, not really knowing what reaction telling her story would bring, but hoping for a confirmation that her theory about Ed’s little story was correct, she bagan. “Back before Christmas break, Ed told me he was in detention one day. Big deal right? He’s always there after school. Well – he was there this day and it was raining outside. He likes the smell of the rain so he was sitting sort of close to the window. Then he heard voices outside talking.”
Amber was an expert storyteller and the faces of her peers around her were dialed in to the next turn.
“The voices were of a couple girls; might’ve been three he said but he couldn’t tell for sure. He was sure they were either in Jr. High or High School – definitely not in his grade or younger.”
The girls in the circle nodded – including Jordan.
“Anyways, one of the voices was really stressed out about having been invited to some kind of party.” The master tactician decided to leave out the most incriminating details until later as she and Nicole had planned. She wanted to try to glean some more information if possible from Jordan without specifically spreading the rumor just yet.
“Well, according to Ed and what he heard, apparently this girl didn’t want to go to the sleepover party because she still pees her little girl panties at night when she sleeps.”
At this the whole room burst into laughter with each of the girls breaking into side jokes and mockery about such an old girl wetting her bed. Each of them that is, except Jordan.
She first reacted by freezing. Then, quickly recovering into feigned laughter and merrymaking, she tried to act just like the rest of the group.
During the chaos after the punch line, unbeknownst to Jordan, Amber had watched her ‘mark’ carefully for just such a reaction. She thought she had seen stress and worry on the 7th grade giant’s face rather than genuine mirth but wasn’t entirely sure.
Well, let’s see how she reacts to this.
“And that’s not all!” Amber shouted, jumping back into leadership of the conversation, grasping for attention once again.
“The girl who didn’t want to go told her friend about how she wears baby’s pull-ups to bed!! You know those baby diaper pants with cartoon characters on them?”
The group fully fell into barrels of laughter at this tidbit; joking and carousing and gesturing all the more. They began theorizing as to who the mystery diaper pee-er might be. As that was happening, Amber stared at Jordan willing her to respond in a way that would confirm she was in fact the girl.
Unfortunately for Jordan, she had done just that. The moment pull-ups were mentioned, her face turned beet-red and she began to sweat slightly around the edge of her hairline. She continued to smile and laugh, trying to appear as though she was joking with the rest of the group, but for Amber who was watching for a reaction, the evidence was far too obvious to ignore.
As another girl took the storytelling lead and the conversation moved elsewhere, the eyes of the two girls met and Jordan immediately knew that what Amber had done was intentional.
She looked at the bully pleadingly and with great anxiety.
Seeing the fear in Jordan’s eyes, Amber was beyond convinced.
I’ve got you now Twiggy, Amber thought, it’s only a matter of time. She smiled demurely with a hint of poison underneath.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 9, 2014 at 7:25 AM
Content: Chapter 22 [January 22, 2002]
It was a soggy Monday afternoon, two days after the party and Jordan’s anxiety hadn’t decreased much. At school, she had told Alex about what had happened between she and Amber during the movie. As was often the case, Alex was both encouraging and dismissive.
The night had been perfect for her. In her element, she had partied hard: danced, talked, played, raced, chased, and without fear of her dad doing anything crazy under the influence.
Luckily, Amber’s little ‘shot over the bow’ had been the only eventful diaper-related moment of the evening for Jordan. Alex’s plan for dealing with Jordan’s bedwetting and diaper-needs was for her to get her diaper on in Jo’s bedroom and then to be one of the first in her sleeping bag in the Great Room where everyone was watching the movie and eventually going to sleep.
Alex told her to wear a pair of tight volleyball shorts over her diaper and then to wear a baggier set of normal pajama bottoms. “No one will notice it in the dark if we’re watching a movie,” she had said, “and if there’s lots of activity still going on, there’ll be plenty of noise to cover up the crinkle…”
As it turned out, the group had chosen to move on to another relatively new DVD release, “Shrek”, after “Harry Potter” had been completed. The gossip group in Alex’s room had fizzled about at that time and Jordan had made her way to the Great Room to get her sleeping bag ready and to grab her pajamas. She had found Alex’s mom barely staving off sleep in the master bedroom.
“Um…Mrs. Miller?...are you still awake?” Jordan had asked poking her head in the door.
“Oh Jordie. Yea honey come in; I was wondering if you had already taken care of yourself or something…” Jo had rubbed the sleep from her eyes and swung her feet over the side of her four-poster bed.
“…Um…wh…where…”
“Oh sweetie. It’s ok, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Let’s get you taken care of right here on the bed. But let’s make sure the door locked first!” The young motherly woman smiled.
“Oh…right…” Jordan had awkwardly turned and pushed the button in the door handle of the closed door before walking towards the Jo carrying her packet of pajamas and diaper.
“Have you had fun tonight dear?” Jo had asked, having noticed Jordan’s air of anxiety.
“Oh, yeah,” she had said smiling, “for sure. It’s been fun.” She decided not to tell her about the little even that had just taken place.
“Good to hear. Now,” lowering the volume of her voice, “where’s your diaper sweetie?”
“Oh um…It’s um…,” Jordan had fumbled with her packet of clothing, “right here.” The purple diaper had fallen on the floor between her bare feet and Jo reached down to pick it up and had set it on the bed.
“Ok let’s get you outa here quick before anyone notices you’re gone.” Jo had smiled as she slipped more quickly into the caretaker role that she had eventually discovered those days after Jordan had been in the hospital. She motioned for Jordan to turn around, “Let me get your zipper for you.”
Turning around, the tall brunette had felt the tiny zipper on her white party dress (the same she had worn for her own birthday party) slide to the bottom. She had slipped out of it, letting it fall to the floor before lying back on the bed in just her underwear set.
“Let’s get those off too sweetie.” Jo had said leaning forward over the girl and grabbing the rear portion of the waistband of her panties, pulled them down. Leaving her now almost completely exposed, she said, “There we are.”
Jo had grabbed the diaper and unwrapped it. “These sure are nice diapers Jordan, where does your mom get them anyway? I’ve never seen anything like it at Bob’s hospital.”
“…um…I think through the mail…” Jordan had replied, having felt awkward talking while the process was taking place.
Jo had just been trying to keep it light; but she had sensed Jordan’s discomfort and worked quickly, pulling up the purple crinkly diaper tightly between the tall girl’s splayed legs and then taping each of the four fasteners in place. After having given her a pat on her diapered tummy, Jo announced, “there you are, ready to go.”
Jo had helped Jordan into her volleyball compression shorts and then watched her pace a little in the room to test them out for sound. Once fully dressed in the rest of her pajamas, Jordan looked at herself in the mirror and then to Jo for approval.
“Jordie no one is gonna notice. I can’t even hear it in here where it’s quiet. You’re safe.”
And as far as she could tell, she was. The rest of the night had gone through without a hitch.
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So on that soggy Monday afternoon, Jordan stood in the drizzle outside the front entrance of BCS. The busses had come and gone; most of the remaining students had been retrieved up by their parents. But the tall girl with the big secret, still dressed in her plaid school skirt and white blouse with scarf, waited for her mom.
The one detail Jo had forgotten on Saturday night (a detail which Jordan had intentionally attempted to help her forget) was applying the desitin before diapering Jordan. Sally had been religious about the diaper rash cream, especially after the girl’s infection. But during the two days she spent home with Jo, the consistency and thoroughness of the applications was not up to the same standard as it was with Jordan’s own mom.
This was not a surprise – it had been quite awkward for Jo to diaper, let alone apply such a product with her hand to such a private area of a teenage girl’s body! As a consequence, by Monday afternoon, Jordan’s rash had flared up to all new heights and was even blistering in a couple folds of skin. It didn’t take a lot of cajoling for Sally to convince the girl this time to go see Dr. Yepp; every step was causing her sharp pain.
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Jordan was sure she could smell the thick layer of cream on her body again as she sat in the doctor’s office. Of course that was the last thing she wanted the doctor to see. She had already been in the bathroom twice to try to wipe everything off but she kept getting ‘whiffs’ of it. To make matters worse, losing the cream caused to her to be in fiery pain just sitting still!
When her name was called, the two walked back and found their way back into the same examination room as Jordan had been in just a couple months before. The tall slender girl walked with her legs slightly apart, almost as though she was still wearing a diaper.
I hate this place, Jordan thought, but at least I get to keep my clothes on this time!
After taking her vitals, the nurse turned to ask, “So I see you were in just a couple months ago for a full exam, how can we help you today?”
Sitting on the crinkly paper of the exam table, legs dangling, Jordan was cold – frozen with anxiety.
Sally spoke up, “She’s developed another diaper rash and I’m afraid this time it looks pretty bad.”
“Oh, I see.” The nurse frowned in what could’ve been taken for empathy or perhaps disapproval, and then flipped through Jordan’s chart seemingly reviewing previous material before she began writing on the top page. She looked up and asked, “How long has it been going on?”
“Well,” Sally answered, “it’s been more or less an ongoing issue since the bedwetting started last fall back before she first saw Dr. Yepp. This latest round began maybe a week ago and coincided with a pretty bad bladder infection she contracted. We were actually in the ER last Monday for it; she had a high fever and was actually temporarily incontinent. Once we got home, it just didn’t go away.”
By now Jordan was blushing a dark shade of red and looking down.
“Oh dear. Sounds like a pretty rough stretch for you Jordan. We’ll get you fixed up quick though.” She couldn’t get any eye contact with the teen so she gave a slight smile to Sally before continuing, “I’ll get those records faxed over so the doctor can take a look.
She finished up her notes and grabbed a sheet from the cabinet under the exam table. “Well, the doctor’s gonna wanna examine you again hun. Please take everything off below your waist and you can cover yourself with this.” She handed the sheet to the nervous girl sitting on the table. The nurse padded out.
After the door clicked closed and mother and daughter were left alone again, Jordan exclaimed, “MOM! I have to get poked and prodded and pulled and grabbed again? I thought you said they’d just give me a quick prescription or something?!”
“Jordie most doctors want to examine their patients. If your rash was on your hand, you wouldn’t have to take off your skirt. But since it’s on your vulva – he’s gotta see it. Sorry. Part of being a woman.”
“Part of being a diaper baby.” Jordan said under her breath with a little more disdain than she really meant as she pulled off her skirt and panties.
When the doctor came in the room, Jordan was back sitting on the exam table with the sheet wrapped over her legs and under the edge of her rear end.
“Good afternoon ladies. How are we doing today?” Dr. Yepp asked.
“Fine.” They both responded politely.
“So I hear Jordan that you’ve suffering with some uncomfortable sores for about a week? Is that true?”
“…Um…yeah…” Jordan said.
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound very fun. And you also had a pretty significant infection I hear?”
“No…I mean…yeah…I mean…no it’s not too fun and yes, I did get pretty sick last week,” she said nervously.
“Well would you please lean back and let me take a look?”
As he examined her, he continued to talk. “Now I know you had a bout with nocturnal enuresis a few months ago – and we had you checked out for sleep apnea which turned out normal. And apparently the bedwetting has continued since then?”
“Um…Yes.” She said before exclaiming, “OOOOH!”
“Sorry, sensitive spot huh?”
“Yeah” she agreed through gritted teeth.
“Your skin is in fairly rough shape Jordan, I’m not surprised it hurts. I have to admit, your case is pretty unusual.” He said, still unseen to the teenager. It was beyond weird to be talking with someone who was down there hidden by a sheet looking at her crotch like that but in all truth, the past 4-5 months had been a culmination of weird and humiliating events. This was just one of the long list. So she just tried to relax a little.
I really hate being a girl sometimes. She thought.
Finally, the doctor sat up on his stool and looked toward Sally. “Typically, children who are potty trained just continue wetting the bed into their childhoods and sometimes into their teenage years. I think I mentioned this before. What I didn’t say is that it’s a little more rare for a teenager to just begin wetting the bed out of the blue like this – and especially for it to persist seemingly without cause.” He looked back toward Jordan, “Now, I can’t remember, are you still using some kind of absorbent product at night?”
“Well yeah,” Sally said interjecting, “that’s how we’ve been managing it thus far. To save bedding and everything, it’s just a much much easier solution after so many months.”
“Of course. Well, typically after it’s gone on this long, we want to try to do some additional testing to make sure something serious isn’t going on unseen. Like I said, this kind of thing in kids is usually just a passing phase. But sometimes in teens and adults, there’s a treatable cause; and in those cases, diapers or pads or other incontinence products aren’t really considered good long term treatment options.” He looked at Sally matter-of-factly.
“Oh – well…I…thought this would just go away on it’s own…in it’s own course…” Sally replied sounding a little defensive.
“You’re right. It generally does and maybe hers will. But in Jordan’s case, we call it 'sudden onset enuresis' and that often indicates some underlying cause. Sometimes its something like sleep apnea (which we ruled out), other times it’s psychological, other times is urological; it can be diabetes (which her blood tests don’t indicate), it can be certain forms other serious diseases. There are many potential causes. I’m not saying she has something nefarious. I’m just saying that to continue to just let her put on a pull-up every night could be like putting a band aid on a gash that requires stitches. It might help for a little while but eventually the underlying cause is gonna create more problems.”
Both Jordan and her mom nodded gravely.
“So, I want her to get seen by a urologist for further testing ASAP. Ok? I’ll get a referral started with the nurse.”
Sally tried to relax with all the words being thrown around about serious diseases. “Well what about this rash then? We’ve been putting desitin on it every night and sometimes during the day but it doesn’t seem to be helping.” Sally said.
“Well typically zinc based creams like that would work alright. And I think she should be applying a barrier cream of some sort every night some sort of protector or not – she obviously has sensitive skin.” He said speaking as though Jordan the one who had been doing all the applications of the products to that region.
“In addition, Jordan you probably should be changing your pad immediately if it’s wet during the night and not just sleep in it all the way until morning. Mom—maybe that mean’s you’ll have to check on her here or there and wake her up. What sort of product have you been using anyways? Perhaps it isn’t a good enough quality?”
To Jordan’s ongoing relief, Sally spoke again, “Well, we’ve been using some really nice high quality adult diapers that they had her use at the sleep clinic. She had been leaking out of the pull-ups and she had forgotten to bring one when she went for the study, so they provided her with one of their…briefs. It worked so well, I decided to start using those on her.”
The doctor looked as though he might’ve been a little surprised by this but shrugged it off. “Oh, well, I’m sure that’s about as good as it gets in the absorbency department then. Let me check one more thing.”
He went back between her legs with his big flashlight and gloved hands to Jordan’s disappointment.
Speaking from down there he continued, “Having a moist warm environment for hours on end all sealed in by a plastic diaper is without a doubt going to create a breeding ground for bacteria or fungus on your delicate skin Jordan. Down here though; this looks like it could also be something fungal – like candida or something similar.”
He sat up and pulled off his gloves. “You can sit up and cover up Jordan.” Then looking back at Sally, “It won’t respond to over the counter creams like desitin. She’s probably going to need an anti-fungal that is prescription strength and probably an oral dose to go with it. I’m going to prescribe you both. Ok?”
“Ok.” Sally said as Jordan jostled with the sheet, attempting to cover herself sensing that the worst of the examination was over.
“In addition, Jordan, I’m also going to prescribe you a vaginal yeast infection treatment regiment. It’ll have detailed instructions on how to use it and I’m sure your mom can help, but essentially it’s made to treat any infection you have on the inside surfaces of skin as well.”
Jordan nodded feeling numb and anxious and beyond ready to leave.
“Perhaps you could take a few days off from the diapers too eh? Some fresh air and space to breathe from all that plastic and padding wouldn’t hurt anything either.”
Unlikely proposal. Both mother and daughter thought simultaneously for different reasons but nodded politely just the same.
“Talk to the receptionist about getting that referral as well. And Jordan?”
“Yes?” She looked at the doctor, still trying to keep covered.
“Barrier cream, all over yourself – front and back – every night ok? Until this wetting stops.”
“Ok Dr. Yepp.” She said embarrassed.
Another doctor’s appointment? Jordan thought to herself, Why do I have to keep getting poked, surveyed, and squeezed? I hate this. I wish there could be doctor diagnoses by phone!! That urolgizer---whatever doesn’t sound fun at all.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 9, 2014 at 10:49 PM
Content:
ICkaraokegirl said:
This comes from me, not from the Forum Moderator:
It seems to me that this is not very professional behavior for the doctor (or for that matter his nurse), and that is the second time you've done that. Do you have some kind of issue with the medical profession? I ask because the story is so darned good otherwise that this kind of thing detracts from it significantly. I mean, you already have one-dimensionally evil characters in Melissa, Amber, and Nicole, and you have a completely unredeemable weasel in Ted; how many weirdly nasty characters does one 12-year-old have to encounter before she loses all faith in humanity?
[End of quote]
Haha! You're right you know!
With regards to the evil characters, I think it kind of accidentally did it honestly. (Although you may be surprised with Ted -- he's got a bit more depth, wait and see). But certainly Melissa, Amber, Nicole. They're flat and horrible. Straight up.
Also, with regards to medical professionals. I think I've had a lot of bad experiences with them so maybe I'm writing that in subconsciously as well.
How long is the window open to edit a post? Perhaps I'll go back and tweak with it a bit.
There was actually a really important plot reason for this guy to turn into an asshole. Truly. But the God's-honest-truth is that because I'm releasing this thing serially with such a big gap in between current work and the work I'm actually releasing, I sometimes get mixed up... This would be an example of that. The change doesn't make sense yet (or even ever at this point) and I need to have the characters notice it and talk/think about it when it does take place. I'll try to fix it. Really, it might just be useful to have him be enough of a knucklehead to get sally to question herself at this point in the story.
With that being said, I will push back on you just a bit though in the realism dept. Most of the primary care doctors (I'm a cis-male) I've ever had in the States have been ones who truly don't remember me from visit to visit. They are so filled with patients and overbooked that they are literally running from room to room (maybe this isn't their fault but it's been my experience)...they glance over the high parts of my charts and requests but don't remember much at all from visit to visit. And I've had bedwetting issues and stuff too. Furthermore, not all hospitals and clinics share records well; so just because Jordan had been in the ER visit at once place doesn't mean that it would've been updated on her charts at Dr. Yepps office -- especially in 2002!
ICkaraokegirl said:
In the previous hospital scene, Anne acted in a bizarre and unprofessional way and the nurse was just nasty in every way possible. Why?
[End of quote]
LOL!!! You're awesome
Again, I think I really do have some issues with medical people. Truly. It's so weird and ironic to read you pointing them out to me here on a message forum. Lol. Thanks! I guess I have some work to do :laugh:
But really. Naming the nurse in Dr. Yepp's office "Anne" (actually naming her at all) was a mistake. She has no play in the story going forward whatsoever. And the character in the ER, the medical assistant, Anne Rodgers was a ding dong by design. She'll come back of course. But honestly, I've been around enough medical assistants to know that that's entirely realistic. Many many are untrained, uneducated, lifetime minimum wage employees with big egos and power complexes (ok more of my issues are showing through...sorry)...
The ER nurse was just intended to be your run-of-the-mill gruff ER nurse annoyed to have to deal with a non-trauma patient on her shift. They're a dime a dozen.
Thanks for the feedback.
HokieABDL said:
I would not use such flaming language myself. I would only say perhaps please tone down on the Dick-tor just a tad. Jerks are in every profession but don't surround Jordan with line after line of jerkiness from her gyn.
Suggestion for credibility: Have him not backtrack or have to backtrack on his previous claims so much nor have him tell his mother "should have seen a urologist." Have him just say we will send you to a urologist, stat. Have him remember the patient better and actually read her file. Add maybe one if these: have him mention that in the xxx years he's practiced, he's had IC patients, especially after childbirth, but never sudden onset enuresis this severe, this long, and that most kids suddenly stop in adolescence, not start. No totally throwing mom under the bus or making him forget the child's previous visit. Just have him put her mom on the spot a little more by saying have you tried to have her control her problem, .... or better yet: have him sugar coat and say, though the problem still isn't the daughter's fault, it is entirely possible that it's at least partially psychological and have him recommend a shrink. Have him show some bedside manner, even if it's obviously feigned. That would IRL irritate a patient or a patient's mom even more than the total arrogant fool you have now, because it would seem to enhance the credibility on the fewer, more "mild" jerk statements he did make.
Also, for credibility: if a gyn suspects candida yeast down there, at all, .... IRL I'd imagine he/she is 99% likely to prescribe internal yeast infection treatment like Monostat (research that era on the availability of the 5 or 7 day OTC version). They would not want the possibility of the external spreading internal, nipped in the bud, I'd imagine.
Do that and make the assistant very nice, professional, and actually read Jordan's chart. You should have a better, more precise asshole to work with.
It's up to you. Still great story. Don't let us foolish commentators rewrite your stuff for you too much, lol.
[End of quote]
Thanks. It's helpful. Like I said above, I do need Sally to question herself a little bit about what's been happening with the diapers and everything, but I think it actually fits better with what happens with the Urologist -- especially given that this guy's behavior does seem to shift from the previous visit.
And thanks for the tip re: treatment. Not being female and having that kind of experience myself, I'm largely guessing.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 10, 2014 at 2:59 AM
Content: Was able to work on it a bit over lunch. Just edited the original.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 11, 2014 at 2:04 AM
Content: Chapter 23 – [January 29, 2002]
Since the disturbing gossip revelation by Amber at Alex’s party, Jordan had lost a certain degree of confidence at school and she had begun to feel as though Amber was regaining some power over her. She wasn’t entirely sure if the bully had seen a reaction from her to Ed’s detention story or if anyone had noticed her diaper before bed (she doubted that in all honesty). But just the possibility the negativity about her traveling around school was enough to throw her back into a similar kind of anxiety that had characterized the beginning of the school year. Luckily however, Amber, Nicole, or their little gang hadn’t been unusually mean in the subsequent week. So it also came to Jordan’s mind if it all could just be in her head.
Alex didn’t show up at school on that late January Monday morning. Her dad, Bob Miller, was due to arrive home from drug and alcohol treatment in California and Jo had pulled their daughter from school to go meet him at the airport. When Alex and Jordan talked the previous night, the normally outgoing, fun-loving, and optimistic girl was afraid.
“It’s just been so nice honestly Jordan. No screaming and yelling. No walking on eggshells. No worrying about having to hide somewhere in the house all night until his rage passes. I’m just scared it’s gonna go back to how it was before.”
“Yeah…?” Jordan didn’t really know what to say as she lay back on her bed cradling the phone on her pillow next to her head. She cared about her friend, but talking about Daddy problems just made her think about how much her own father had disappointed her in the previous months. She had grown past a lot of the sadness and had moved to anger.
Reminiscing, she thought about all the ways he had been so terrible. First, he wouldn’t quit working – ever – like, constantly with that stupid company; probably so he would be with MELISSA more often. Then, he went on that stupid trip after abandoning us on the worst day of the year or of the decade or of the century. He just ran off with that dumb woman again! Then he comes back and says he’s moving out and lets Melissa try to take over mom’s spot – and tries to put on a show like she actually cares about us, or something. He didn’t even do anything to protect me when she said those things to me that night! And then my Christmas present? What a joke! And now he keeps calling me and asking if I want to come over? What the hell dad!? Of course I don’t wanna see you! Try saying you’re sorry for once! Try dumping that witch! Try showing up for once in my life! Then maybe we can talk.
The girl with the hazel eyes and long brown hair fumed under the surface as Alex continued nattering almost as if to herself, “…orried about how I’m gonna react when I see him too. Like – what if I cry? What if I don’t cry? What if I don’t feel anything? What if I feel stuff I don’t wanna feel? What if I don’t wanna hug him? What if he wants to hug me for a long time but I just wanna hug for a second? What if I change my mind? What if he’s totally different? Like personality change or something? I just keep going through all these crazy like – scenes in my mind.” She spoke rapidly, hardly taking a moment to breathe.
Breaking away from her own inner dialogue and rage for a moment, Jordan replied, “Alex you sound a little like me girl! Take a breath. If anyone can handle an awkward moment, it’s you. And besides, it’ll only be weird for a minute and you’ll get used to whatever he’s like really quick.”
Alex didn’t respond for a couple seconds as she thought. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. But what if he’s still crazy?”
“Alex, there’s no way they would be releasing him from treatment if he weren’t better. I’m sure things are gonna be different, but they’ll be like – better different. I guarantee.” Jordan said more confidently than she felt about it. “Your mom is really good at this stuff too Alex. She’ll help make it more normal. You’re SO lucky to have her.” Jordan felt warmly about Jo – who, over the past week had become a second mom in a whole new way for her.
Alex thought for a moment before agreeing, “Thanks Jordie.”
The two chatted some more about school and Jordan’s story competition (Mr. Johns had said the announcement of the top 3 finalists would be given in the next couple of weeks), as well as the fan mail Jordan had been receiving about her radio broadcast.
“It’s weird,” Jordan said, “people think I’m like some kind of ‘Author’ or something. They say stuff like my story changed their lives or some crazy nonsense. It’s so dumb.”
They both had laughed shrugging off the popularity like something people should’ve known better about.
---------------------------
That day after school, Jordan ended up being home alone for the afternoon as well as the lion’s share of the evening. Sally had to stay at the firm late for a staff meeting and she had asked Ted to pick Mindi up from after-kindergarten childcare and Jen from daycare in order to make it a ‘Daddy-visit’ evening. Jordan, because she was still carrying around so much anger for all the things that had happened, refused to go.
To his credit, Ted hadn’t forced the issue and insisted on his ‘parental rights’ as some ousted parents might’ve. But when the father and daughter had interacted, there was of course a great deal of tension. He had never attempted to debrief or talk with Jordan about what had happened in the bedroom that December night with Melissa (let alone apologize).
With Alex gone to be home for her Dad’s arrival and Jordan’s sisters visiting her own Dad, the bedwetting author found herself at home alone for almost five hours – a surprisingly rare occurrence at thirteen-years-old. When she had entered the house, it was cold, dark, and quiet – almost spooky. She had turned on music and the floorboard heaters in the living room under the picture frame window overlooking the front lawn.
After checking the mail and thumbing through a few more fan letters, Jordan decided to begin working on the new project she had been thinking about. Her plan had been to write something a bit longer and a bit more ambitious than simply a short story – she wanted to write a novel. The idea this time around was to write about a boy who learns that he has the ability to make himself disappear. Part of the idea was the concept that he might eventually become a kind of superhero as the story progressed; she wasn’t sure yet.
Energized, she began work at her computer in the bedroom. But it seemed that at every moment she became distracted. Noises outside (it became rapidly dark after she arrived home), cars driving by the house, fleeting hunger pangs, smells, and the need to pee served to interrupt her work at 10-minute intervals. The going was slow.
During one trip to the bathroom, Jordan’s eye caught the edge of a plastic ‘Molicare’ bag just inside her open sliding closet door. A momentary but not fully comprehended impulse twitched in the thirteen-year-old to go get one out. But for that moment, she continued on her present mission, allowing her mind to drift to her nighttime routine over the past few weeks.
Back around December (notwithstanding the night with Melissa), she and her mom had really found a rhythm together each evening and morning. Jordan increasingly anticipated the time spent. The helplessness she sank into while her mom cared for her was calming and (unbeknownst to her) actually therapeutic. The thick diaper between her legs and the warm padding around her bum had grown to become comforting and secure. It actually kinda felt safe when she had her diapers on. Since the previous doctor’s appointment with Dr. Yepp, her Mom had even been coming in and checking on her in the middle of the night and sometimes changing her when she was not even fully coherent. Thinking back on those slightly delirious changes made Jordan feel the greatest sense of comfort of all – she felt as though she ‘had been seen’ more and more.
Of course, in the mornings when she awoke, soaking wet, warm, swelling, gel-like, and squishy, she always laid there helplessly waiting for her mom’s loving care before budging a muscle. These were somewhat embarrassing thoughts still to acknowledge – but after a few months now of reoccurrence, she was getting accustomed to them. It wasn’t acceptance per se but at least recognition.
I think I like how mom treats me. She admitted in her mind. I think I might actually like wearing the diapers too…
But then she began to question herself. Does that make me a freak? How can I possibly enjoy this? What kind of weirdo teenager likes to have her mom put her in a big diaper? No one can ever know about this.
As Jordan finished in the bathroom, her mind continued to churn on these ideas and she was drawn like an insect to a white light in the night sky, to the open crinkly purple bag in her closet. The house was empty and quiet and her mom was still not due home for another 3 hours, but she still felt nervous about doing what she was thinking about doing.
She stepped slightly inside the open mirrored closet door and bent down, reaching carefully inside the bag, hand trembling. The tall girl with the surprising talent for writing and the shameful secret was all alone in the house.
She held a purple diaper in her hand.
Why am I so nervous about this? She thought. And just what exactly is THIS even anyways? Am I really gonna put on a diaper myself during the day?
But that is exactly what she did. Jordan quickly reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties down. She had started another period cycle that morning so she was wearing a freshly changed pad from her bathroom trip.
I guess maybe putting this on might have a partial use actually, she thought to herself chuckling a little.
Hiking up her skirt she lay down and flopped it up on her chest. As she had done at her Dad’s apartment the month before, she unfolded the diaper and scooted it under her rear end. This time, a little more carefully, she pulled the cuffs tightly around each of her legs and taped them into place before taping the upper tabs. It felt a little more like her mom’s diapering jobs.
Standing up, her plaid school skirt fell over her diapered derrière. Looking in the mirror, she could clearly see the bulge. Jordan felt embarrassed for what she was doing in the clandestine moments. But none-the-less, immediately the familiar feelings of peace, comfort, and security rushed over her. It was like magic having the thick plastic fluff between her legs.
Over the subsequent hours before her mom arrived home, Jordan kept her diaper on under her skirt but did not (actually, could not) pee in it. She worked on her story some more, actually stopped to do some dishes in the kitchen a little, and generally lounged around. Being uber-ly self conscious of her state, despite having a skirt on, she had closed each of the blinds and curtains effectively closing herself off to her own home-play ground.
By the time her mom had arrived home, Jordan had long-since removed the diaper, placed it carefully in a grocery sack (still dry) and thrown it in the garage trash like her mom did with morning diapers. She had changed out of her school clothes and into new panties and pad, and even eaten some cold cereal for dinner. What had felt like a big indiscretion and sneaky experience to Jordan was fully covered up for all her mother or sisters could tell.
That night, as she lay in bed diapered once more but this time by her mother’s hand, Jordan’s thoughts raced a mile a minute.
Should I do it again? Is it gonna become a problem? Will mom notice if I start running low on diapers sooner? What would she say if she thought I LIKED what was happening to me – what she has been doing to me? Does SHE like it? What happens if Mindi quits wetting for good like Jen? Will mom let me keep diapers if I’m the only one left? Do I actually WANT to keep my diapers? I can’t believe I’m thinking like this! And what about dad? What if he found out? What would he say? What would he do!?
As her brain churned and churned, it eventually gave out under the stress and she drifted off to sleep.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 11, 2014 at 4:38 PM
Content: Chapter 24 – [February 19, 2002]
As the weeks flowed by, so did the urine each night out of the thirteen-year-old girl from Ballard. In contrast, her 2-year-old sister Jen and soon to be 6 year old sister Mindi (in just 3 days anyways) both had been dry every night for a month. As the quickly emerging lone bed-wetter in the house, Jordan began to wonder if she might indeed once again enjoy the comforts of her own room.
Maybe I might get some actual perks from this problem I’ve developed after all. She then thought about the wonderful time spent with her Mom each evening, morning, and sometimes in the middle of the night. Well, I guess maybe there might be a few perks.
Her mind then drifted off to the newfound illicit afternoon moments she had been spending alone with her diapers. Several times over the weeks that followed her first solo foray, because Her sisters each had childcare and daycare after school until their mom got off work, Jordan had done several repeated ventures in the solitude of afternoon school days. Although she felt ashamed out it still, it had been both thrilling and oddly fulfilling.
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After having been up once at 2am to change Jordan and then again for good at 6am before rousing the other two girls for the day, Sally was exhausted as she rushed out of the house. Mindi and Jen had to be dropped off at school and daycare before she had to race for downtown Seattle to the King County Superior Courthouse on Third Avenue. The first hearing for her divorce proceeding with Ted was scheduled for 10am and she didn’t want to make a bad impression by being late. Unfortunately, by the time she arrived in the vicinity of the building, which takes up an entire city block, all the street parking in and around it had long been snatched up. Sally ended up in a lot down toward the waterfront about four blocks away.
The King County courthouse is an old stone building that is neither imposing nor regal. Utilitarian might best describe its U-shape and un-wasteful design. A simple park guards its south end and primary entrance. The surrounding streets of what is known as ‘old Seattle’ feel dense and overly close.
Sally hadn’t yet cried that Tuesday morning as she had been doing very often since she and Ted’s separation and she wasn’t even feeling particularly sad – just stressed. But when she sat down in front of the arbitrator and kitty-corner to Ted at the table in the scantily appointed room on the fifth floor, she felt on the verge of tears.
Although Ted’s lawyer wasn’t accompanying him, she could clearly see his influence. Ted had a large folder of files and resources in front of him as though he were going to present evidence against her. To make matters worse from Sally’s viewpoint, the arbitrator and Ted had appeared as though they had just finished a brotherly chat before she had entered the room. Immediately she felt behind the 8-ball.
I knew he had been meeting with a lawyer, but I didn’t think he’d be this hardball about it. I’m clearly not prepared.
The conversation between the three went on for about an hour. They discussed the nature of their marriage before Ted had filed for divorce, their children, their resources, their education, skills, and potential careers and abilities to earn a living after the divorce. They discussed the reasons for the divorce and the possibility of counseling and working things out. Sally had expressed a willingness and even an interest in pursuing that option – but Ted dismissed it flatly. That had been the first time since he had moved out in November that they had even brought up the idea in one another’s presence.
When the arbitrator moved toward division of their mutual possessions and resources, Ted had been surprisingly open handed Sally had thought. He told the sharply dressed and clean-cut man that he thought Sally and the kids should have the house, furniture, and the van and that he had already moved out and found other living arrangements. He thought that should stay as is. He said that Sally should maintain primary custody of the children and that he just wanted to be involved in their lives and allowed regular visitation. His hope was that they could work that out without a rigid court-mandated schedule.
Sally had nodded in agreement.
When the arbitrator looked to Sally, her mouth began moving and words came out that she hadn’t recalled thinking through clearly or rehearsing before entering the room.
“Well, I appreciate all of Ted’s suggestions and I fully agree. I think the girls will be the most stable in their home. Their relationship is the most firmly bonded with me. It’s also true that Ted has been the primary breadwinner and I’ve been a stay-at-home mom since Mindi was born 6 years ago…”
Ted and the arbitrator looked at her and politely nodded.
“…and so I think he should continue in that role for the girls; supporting his children financially.”
At that, Ted’s face had turned red. “NOW – I knew you were gonna say that Sal---“
“Mr. Reynolds,” the arbitrator interrupted, “you had your chance, and now it’s your wife’s. Please let her speak.”
Realizing what she was doing – but also that there was now no turning back, Sally continued calmly but terrified under the angry gaze of Ted. “I think Ted should continue to support his children financially. Like I was saying. Jordan is well knit into her school culture at BCS, which is a private Christian school that is expensive. Because of her dad’s connections through work, we get a significant discount but I think he should continue to help pay the lions share if not all of the remaining tuition. And I think he should do the same for Mindi and Jen as well as they move up through school. I think Ted should help with clothes, with trips, with sports, with college, just as if he were still in the home. Just because he’s moving out doesn’t mean they’re not his girls anymore. I don’t want his money. I’ve started working full time as a CPA again that’s fine; I expected that. But they girls are gonna need it more than I’m gonna be able to provide.”
The arbitrator was still nodding but Ted looked as though he was about to blow a gasket.
“Now Ted,” he said, “before you flip out, these kinds of child-support agreements are very common in divorce proceedings. What your wife is suggesting is quite normal. And in my opinion, what Sally is saying is quite reasonable. We haven’t discussed specific numbers but you had to have expected this kind of thing right? I mean, these things are so much easier if you can go before a judge with an agreed upon plan – you don’t’ want to go to trial with lawyers and everyth---”
Immediately Ted blew off, screaming profanities at each of them. Accusing the two of collusion and screaming at Sally that she was an unfit mother. He threatened her with endless investigations as to her parenting abilities; he threatened to get the best lawyers involved, to drag her name through the mud at church, to make her daughters hate her. Everything he could think of to get himself off the hook.
Sally watched him in wonder, fear, and sadness. Tears came to her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
As he stormed out of the office, he turned and hollered red eyed, “I’ll make you regret this Sally Reynolds! I GUARANTEE!! We’re going to court!”
She was stunned as was the arbitrator. It had not gone as she had planned.
“I’m not supposed to give out legal advice Mrs. Reynolds. But I’d suggest you find a lawyer….and a good one before you head to divorce court.” He got up and walked gingerly out the door.
This man is dangerous, she thought as her Nokia cell phone rang in her purse.
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About 8 miles to the North, Jordan sat in a curious unscheduled all-school assembly that had been called hastily the day before. Although BCS had a fancy new facility, it still lacked a proper auditorium that could host the full student body or their families and so events such as this (or even graduations for that matter) always took place in the gymnasium on bleachers. Jordan sat uncomfortably in the upper 1/3 section on the right hand side awaiting the program’s beginning; apparently there was to be some speaker on tour from the East coast.
The principal got up for an introduction.
“Good morning Ballard Christian. Let’s give a warm welcome to Randall Davis, one of the program directors for NPR in Washington D.C.”
Jordan’s heart began to beat extremely rapidly as most students around her clapped ignorantly to what she thought might be about to happen. A few who were more aware of the recent events turned around to look at her with knowing smiles.
The girl’s face turned red immediately.
Mr. Davis began with a few funny short stories that had the little kids squirming and rolling with laughter before he began talking about how important stories are to human beings – about how they help us make sense of the world and our lives. As he talked, Jordan was zeroed in on him – not so much his mumbo jumbo about stories, but about the competition she knew he was going to bring up any second. She was so excited she thought she might pee her pants.
Wouldn’t that be a great coming out party! She thought to herself with a smirk.
Finally the speaker got to the point. “So today, I’m here not to tell you about stories or tell funny jokes – but primarily to let you know that a student from your school has become a finalist in a first annual national ‘Short Story’ competition created by NPR.” A gasp and cheer went through the audience.
He continued, “A couple months ago, many of you might know that a 7th grader from your school had her story read on local Seattle radio. It’s a really amazing short tale about a boy and his dad who travel to Mars. Well – that 7th grader has become one of the 3 national finalists and her story is gonna be recorded for national radio by the actress Natalie Portman. In addition, that 7th grader is gonna get to travel to D.C. for free during spring break to visit the studio. She’ll get to meet Ms. Portman and the other finalists as well as tour the city.”
The student body was giddy with delight and squirming with anticipation. Jordan, for her part, was seriously nervous but also beyond delighted that she had apparently won.
“Ms. Jordan Reynolds? Would you please come down here?” Randall Davis said.
An audible gasp waved through the bleaches once more before they burst into applause. Jordan gingerly got up, terrified she would somehow make a fool of herself by falling or peeing or some other ridiculous thing. As she made her way down the bleachers, kids began chanting her name and she felt tingles down her spine, unable to help but smile widely.
The tall brunette girl with sparkling hazel eyes, soft-spoken manner, hidden talents and secrets a many stood confidently in between her principal and the station programming manager as they congratulated her and handed her a plaque and certificate. A photographer was even there from the Seattle Times Newspaper!
Oh jeez, she thought, I wish I would’ve known. I would’ve made sure to have Alex and Cindy look over my hair and makeup. I hope it doesn’t get in the paper!
As soon as the assembly was all over and Jordan had hugged about 200 fellow students, she had had a chance to scamper off to the bathroom (luckily before any incident). She then immediately rushed to the office for the phone.
--------------
Looking out the window of the small conference room down toward Pioneer Square, Sally put the plastic device to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Yes Jordan it’s me – what’s up?”
“Mom I won!”
Sally was confused – mind still churning from what had just happened between she and Ted and the arbitrator. “Won what honey?” She asked without any enthusiasm.
“Mom! I won the competition!”
“Jordan can we talk about this later?” Sally said almost just hanging up. She could feel herself getting increasingly depressed.
“MOM!! What’s wrong? Don’t you hear me? I won the story competition! The NPR one. I won! I’m a finalist!”
This had caught Sally way off guard. “Wa…wai…wai…wait…Wait. Now what? I though you already won what there was to win Jordie?” She said a genuinely confused.
Jordan had never really explained to her the full scope of the contest. It was something that she and Mr. Johns had done together at school primarily as far as she knew.
“Mom! I won the competition! The whole thing! My story is one of the top 3 in the whole country! And I got a free trip to Washington D.C. during spring break and that actress from Star Wars is gonna read it on the radio!” Jordan was jumping up and down, finally letting her excitement out.
Sally was speechless.
“Mom! The thing before was just the regional part. Now I wont the national part. I got a free trip and everything! Isn’t that AMAZING!” She enunciated the last word of the sentence and Sally could envision her twirling on her flat school shoes on the slick hallway, hair flying out behind.
“Jordan I’m so proud of you. Really. This is really wonderful dear…” Sally tried to gather herself. This wasn’t a good moment to talk or strategize and she knew with her new job, there was no way she herself could go on the trip in March and there was no way she was sending Ted on one either.
She couldn’t break that news to the girl right that moment. “We’ll have to celebrate real soon – maybe we’ll do something for it when we celebrate your sister’s birthday.”
“Ok mom – yeah that’d be great. I’m so excited. I just had to call and tell you. Love you!!!” The phone clicked.
What a day. Sally thought. What a day. It couldn’t get much better – and it couldn’t get much worse.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 14, 2014 at 1:11 AM
Content: I'm not sure what those magazines are -- but I'll check it out. I like the sound of it Thx for the tip!
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 25 – [February 26, 2002]
Sitting amongst a sea of classmates and friends, she could feel the thick warm padding between her legs. On the hard plastic of the gymnasium bleachers, the squishy saturated cottony pulp compressed under her butt and squeezed toward exposure from the confines of her school-issue uniform skirt. No matter how many times she shifted and tried to pull it down, it felt like it rode up all the more.
Her face flushed. She sweat under the stress.
The diaper was very wet and getting increasingly plump by the second.
Someone’s gonna see! Her eyes darted around the gym and all her peers sitting nearby during the school assembly.
Many of those around her turned unpredictably at every second in her direction; smiling, clapping, and saying her name with celebratory gestures. It was almost as if they expected her, for some reason, to get up and walk down front.
Their voices were muffled – as if they were under water. She couldn’t make them out at all. The same was true for whoever spoke up front; a shadowy individual muddled in fog.
All of a sudden she felt hands pulling her forward and pushing her to stand, forcing her to walk. She could see the thick and wet diaper bulging under her skirt as she looked down. She resisted the hands pushing her as an overwhelming need to pee overcame her. Her feet drug and skittered along the aluminum steps as she felt the sensation of falling…
Fear and shame and dread overtook her as she felt her diaper overflow in mid-air. Streams of urine leaked down her legs and through the cotton skirt -- in front of everyone. She could hear her name called out, “Jordan…Jordan!...Jordan!!...JORDAN!!”
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The thirteen-year-old’s eyes opened to see Daniel Radcliffe smiling at her. The familiar voice and touch of her mom was in her ear.
Covered with sweat, urine, and twisted in her sheets, Jordan thought, It was just another nightmare! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe what’s happening to me. I’m falling apart!
Her diaper had leaked badly and even as her mom was helping her out of bed, she could feel additional urine leaking from both her bladder and swollen diaper.
“Jordan! You’re ok sweetie, you were just having another nightmare. Momma’s here. You’re just fine honey. It’s just fine.” Sally rubbed her big girl’s back and sat down on the bed taking stock of the leaking diaper, wet bed, and clearly agitated teenager. The tall brunette was bright red, sweaty with matted hair, and wrapped in sheets and her night T-shirt. The diaper she was wearing looked as though it was about to pop off at any second.
Goodness girl, you’ve really outdone yourself in the pee department this time. She thought to herself, not daring to say such a thing out loud.
Sally helped Jordan the rest of the way out of bed and tenderly disrobed and bathed her in the bathroom before the upcoming day. It had been the fourth time Jordan had awoken in such a state after the big assembly announcement the previous week. Sally wondered if the nightmares had more to do with the stress she had been carrying around due to the first divorce hearing than the social stress.
Ever since, their conversation with the arbitrator at the courthouse the week before, Sally had stayed up late and been up early, fretting over documents spread across the kitchen counter and table. She had made dozens of phone calls to her new lawyer, many of which Jordan had heard and absorbed emotionally. In addition, Sally worried she had been a little less empathetic, a little shorter, and a little more stressed than her usual motherly self.
Sally was terrified that Ted’s political abilities would enable him to finagle a way into wrenching custody of the girls away from her. And she knew it would be only in spite – just to prove his power. Because without a doubt, he surely wasn’t interested in caring for them or being a Dad; she hardly could handle the feelings of her powerlessness in the situation.
At the first real divorce hearing before a judge (a week after the failed arbitration meeting), both he and Sally had arrived with lawyers. Ted had brought Melissa along as well for added pageantry. His lawyer was good. Very good.
He was a man from church that they both had known for years. Brian Harris. No doubt he’s representing Ted ‘pro bono’ as a personal favor, she had thought as they walked back into the same arbitration room.
She had been blown away by his coldness and professionalism. His lawyer’s demands for ‘discovery’ into evidence of everything from their financial records, joint purchase history, and any informal agreements made regarding parenting habits and household duties made her feel exposed and afraid. After Sally’s honest request for child-support, Ted intended to play hardball and his lawyer intended to help him with his cause.
The next hearing was scheduled for early April with the intent of allowing plenty of time for each party to gather all proper documentation and evidence. The stress of having such a valiant foe against which to toil was almost too much for her to bear – and her kids were obviously unknowingly taking it on in their own ways as well.
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During P.E. that morning at BCS, Amber Jones and Nicole Rodgers were dressed down in gray cotton sweats and matching gray t-shirts, walking side by side around the school ball field in the Seattle mist. The two walked alone and were intense in conversation – all too aware of any potentially listening ears nearby.
“We need proof Nicole. We can’t just go off of a reaction I happened to see at a party and some random gossip story from a 6th grader.” Amber said with hand motions and great emotion.
“I’m just saying Amber, this year is going by quick and that tall freak is becoming the most popular girl in school every second! You really want a book worm to become a bigger deal than the starting softball pitcher during your 8th grade year?” Nicole argued. “You’ve worked hard to have the best year ever and now that bi-otch is stealing it from you!”
“That’s not what I want Nicole!” Amber said defensively, “But we can’t just waste this information. I’ve done this a lot ok? It’s easy for everyone to just dismiss without some kind of picture or ‘evidence’ of some kind. It’s just empty gossip. It won’t last. We’ll end up in the same place we’re at now and our opportunity will be lost.” She glared at her looking down her nose.
“Fine,” said Nicole, “I just hate seeing her get the attention you and I deserve when we have such juicy meat on her. I mean – you believe it’s true don’t you?”
“It’s honestly a little hard to believe but I can’t imagine who else it could’ve possible been unless Ed misheard them. She seems so God-Damned composed all the time – even when we razz her, she usually takes it so well. I would expect a panty pisser to be all nervous all the time.” Amber thought out loud.
“I’m sure it’s true. I can just see it in her somehow. It’s gotta be. It’s perfect.” Said Nicole.
“Well either way – we will wait until the right moment; even if it takes all year. We will wait. And then we’ll crush her and laugh.” Amber smiled deviously, prompting the same in her friend.
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All things considered, Sally was still happy she had procured the new job at the accounting firm (Anderson & Johnson it was called) even though it had caused a little extra stress in she and the kids’ lives. It was unavoidable given the circumstances. With the separation and Ted’s hardline battling, she was going to need the money and a way to support her family after all the dust settled (especially if he found a way out of having to pay any child support!)
The pain of not being home for her children was a hard shift to adjust to however – Sally had quit work six years before for a reason. She wanted to be a Mom. She wanted to give her life to the task (at least for that season). And she was good at it! Being pried away from it and forced to offer the important tasks to strangers was agonizing.
Particularly as Sally thought about Jordan’s afternoons home alone, she felt concern and guilt. Jordie is so incredibly sensitive and fragile right now – I can’t imagine all those hours all alone at home are good for her. But what else am I supposed to do?
Sally had at one point considered the idea of putting the younger two girls under the childcare of thirteen year old Jordan but then reconsidered – and had instead allowed them to be in after school childcare (Mindi) and all day daycare (Jen) until she was able to get out of work and pick them up on her way home. This inevitably left Jordan (who chose to do no extracurricular sports activities that would keep her at school) home alone for 2-3 hours 5 days a week.
However, on the Tuesday afternoon of her second divorce hearing with Ted, Sally found herself home alone. Jordan had asked to spend time over at Alex’s house and the two younger girls were scheduled to be in childcare until Sally’s typical work sign-off time. She decided to use the time to clean up around the house in peace and mull over the details of her divorce case.
As a matter of typical housekeeping, she found herself in Jordan and Mindi’s room cleaning up each of her daughters’ dirty laundry strewn about the floor. Everything from school uniforms to grass stained kindergarten jeans to skid-marked panties to mismatched socks ended up tossed in the plastic basket waiting in the hall. The odor of stale urine was faint but clearly present; certainly less than a couple months before when the smell was being regularly produced by both girls. As Sally stripped the sheets from each bed, it was obvious that Mindi’s bedding was far fresher than her older daughter’s.
The mother of three had been observing what she had assumed was a significant downward trend with regard to Mindi’s wetting and pull-up usage. Her observation that Tuesday afternoon only served to help confirm it. Mindi hadn’t peed in the bed in probably a month or maybe even more, just like the littlest one Jen!
The only bed wetter in this house will very soon be (if not already is) Jordie. I wonder if Mindi ought to move back in with Jen? I wonder how either of them will take that suggestion? She mused to herself as she rifled through Jordan’s closet for more dirty clothes and garbage.
As she organized the remaining packages of her oldest daughter’s previous shipment of Molicare diapers, it struck Sally that this particular batch wasn’t lasting nearly as long as the previous ones. Since the first one from the hospital pharmacy back in November, she had been ordering them on a monthly basis from a mail order company. Because Jordan generally had been wearing only one diaper per night for the first couple months, a single case each month had been plenty. But since the UTI and increased diaper rash issues, Sally had been checking her part way through the night and sometimes changing her as per the doctor’s suggestion. Suspecting nothing like what had actually been taking place those quiet afternoons in Jordan’s bedroom, Sally assumed she had the extra consumption well accounted for in her mind.
I’ve been so stressed out lately, there’s no way I can keep track of how many bags we have at any one time or how much we’ve used. I probably just lost track. That afternoon, she placed an order for a new case and slightly increased the frequency of future supply shipments.
That should take care of that. She thought, thinking the low-diaper supply issue had been put to rest for good.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 15, 2014 at 1:01 AM
Content: Chapter 26 – [February 27, 2002]
Before her first visit to the specialist around the first of February, the nearly six foot tall seventh grader had been instructed to arrive with a full bladder about a half hour before her scheduled appointment which was at 4:30pm, after school. The medical assistant at the front desk had asked Jordan and her mom to fill out a questionnaire on her medical history – the form had two full pages with detailed inquiries and check boxes for her most intimate of urinary functions and accidents. As Sally had asked questions (out loud) in the lobby for which she hadn’t already known the answers, Jordan sank deeper into her chair. She didn’t want to be reminded of her bedwetting, the UTI and bladder infection, nor her ongoing issues with diaper rash.
Once in the examination room, Jordan had been asked to remove her clothes below the waist and had been given a sheet to wrap around her like a towel after a shower. The urologist, Dr. Roots (No joke? Jordan had thought), had pushed down firmly on the teenagers’ lower abdomen, right on her full bladder. It had been painful and during the process she had been terrified she was about to spring a leak right there on the table.
After that, the doctor had asked Jordan to sit on a weird chair thing with a toilet seat on top and what looked like a clear juice pitcher sitting on the floor underneath. A funnel that appeared to be something like what her dad kept in the garage (except rigged up with all kinds of wires) linked the seat and the pitcher. Dr. Roots had said the test was called a ‘uroflometry’ and she had been instructed to pee normally until finished. Luckily, her gown mostly covered her as she sat.
After that had been completed, with Jordan lying back on the exam table, the doctor then scanned her bladder with an ultrasound device to discover if she had any pee left over. As it had turned out, she appeared to have normal levels remaining.
However, the overall volume of pee she produced after feeling so urgent was relatively low according to the doctor. This, he said, potentially indicated a problem that could explain her bedwetting. He wanted to do additional testing at a second appointment even though her urinary problems were relatively minor in the grand scheme of urinary ailments. In the meantime, the doctor had asked both Sally and Jordan to monitor the girl's fluid intake and to journal all her urinating both day and night.
With my schedule and Jordan’s increasing inability to take care of herself, fat chance that’s gonna happen! Sally had thought to herself as she nodded brightly to the doctor’s instructions.
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Jordan’s second appointment occurred on a Wednesday after school later in the month. Once again, the instructions had been to arrive at Dr. Root’s office with a full bladder and once again, Jordan was required to don the same getup: clothed top with a sheet wrapping around her naked legs and midsection.
I’m sure glad my period hasn’t come yet this month – it’s due any day. She thought to herself as she was getting her clothes off in the room.
Sitting on the paper covered exam table, Jordan’s urge to pee this time was very strong and she hoped the doctor wouldn’t palpate her bladder.
“Ok Jordan, today we’re going to do a set of procedures known as “urodynamics”. They’re used to test how well your bladder is functioning. The first part is similar to the test we did the last time you were in the office. Remember our fancy chair we had you sit on last time?” The doctor said.
Jordan gave a slight nod and looked back to her mother, standing cross-armed behind her.
“Well that’s what we’re gonna start with today – hop down and take a seat.” Dr. Roots continued.
“You can keep that sheet wrapped around yourself as best you can. Just keep it out of the way!” The middle-aged female nurse jumped in, offering instructions.
Jordan shuffled over to the still crazy looking contraption and sat down, almost immediately spraying urine into the electronic funnel pitcher. Very rapidly, the urge passed and her stream decreased to nil.
The nurse took note of the volume in the pitcher. Placing a weird looking blue absorbent pad on the exam table and patting it she said, “Ok, please hop back up on the table Jordan.”
Much more comfortable (physically speaking), Jordan gathered her sheet around her and obeyed. When the nurse slid the stirrups out from the examination table and extended the footrests, the girl’s heart sank.
Oh no! Not again! I’m gonna get poked and prodded down there again? I should’ve known. She fretted to herself with a look of disappointment and fear on her face.
Noticing the girl’s apparent stress, the nurse tried to encourage her. “This shouldn’t hurt Jordan. Have you ever had a catheter before?”
An actual full-blown look of shock swept over her face as (still without saying a word) she thought, A Catheter? What the hell is that? How am I supposed to know if I’ve had one of those? I’d rather not have had anything done to me down there except maybe a diaper covering it up once in a while.
Sally, not offering an answer left room for her daughter to respond.
“…um…I’m not sure…I don’t think so…” Jordan finally said hesitantly.
“Ok, well it might be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt. First, I’m going to place a little anesthetic on the skin around your urethra. This will help numb the area. Then, I’ll very very slowly insert the catheter into your urethra – all the way up into your bladder. The catheter has more anesthetic on it so you shouldn’t feel pain but you will know it’s there. Ok?”
“Ok” Jordan said sounding dejected but in agreement.
“Would you please put your feet in these rests and scoot down closer to the end?”
Jordan obeyed, exposing her bare legs and privates to the open air.
The process had felt not exactly painful, certainly novel, and entirely mortifying.
This is unbelievable. Am I really lying on a table with a tube coming out my pee hole? This can’t be happening. She thought to herself. What would Alex say?
The catheter didn’t seem to do much once it was in; its tube running out and into the same pitcher under the chair contraption. The nurse took careful note of any output before attaching the tube to some other piece of equipment Jordan couldn’t see. The nurse then quickly placed a series of sticky sensors (reminiscent of the ones from her sleep study but only smaller) on her butt, inner thighs, and stomach. She then flopped the sheet back down over Jordan’s knees, returning her a tiny bit of modesty.
“Ok Jordan,” the doctor’s voice now boomed from behind her left shoulder, “well just as we had suspected from before, you appear to be retaining very little urine after you’ve peed so that’s a very good sign. The rest of this test will determine what you feel at different points of bladder fullness and emptiness.”
Jordan nodded, tubes coming out every witch way, in a state of shock.
Over the course of the next 30 minutes or so, her bladder was filled very slowly and she was asked various questions or to do different movements. At several points, the liquid leaked out all over her butt and on the blue pad feeling almost like she was peeing herself right there in the doctor’s office! It had been terrible.
Finally, at the end of the process, the doctor returned with his findings.
“Well Jordan, It appears that your muscles and nerves are all working properly. However, your brain seems to be trigged that your bladder is full when it’s not nearly at its real actual potential capacity. So it tells your bladder to empty at the incorrect time – far too early. Your primary issue appears to be a type of low bladder volume. You should be able to either outgrow this or compensate for it through some retraining or medications.” He let that sink in for a moment.
“Ok,” Jordan said thinking, Well Jeez doc! So this whole thing was a waste of time then? Why the heck did I have to come here and get a tube poked in every orifice if all I need to do is yoga or something to get better?
She looked annoyed and glanced back at her mom who appeared to be thinking a similar thing.
“So what exercises can she do that might help then – specifically with regards to the bedwetting doctor?”
“Well, one that might be the most helpful is something we call “bladder volume training…”
As he explained how Jordan was to do her best to wait 3 or 4 or even 5 hours between bathroom breaks, building up bladder pressure until just under breaking point, the nurse worked quickly to remove the probes and catheter from Jordan. The idea was that if she could stretch it out during the day when she could consciously control her urine, then she could teach her brain that it was capable of the increased capacity. At night – it wouldn’t trigger to release so many times when it filled up at such low volumes.
Jordan was sitting up now covered with her sheet as he continued, “The second thing is for you to do your very best to keep track of how often you pee, when you pee, and how much you pee---“
Sally interrupted him feeling stressed by all the instructions. “Listen doc, I think it’s reasonable to try this bladder stretching thing and I imagine it can help her but she’s in seventh grade! Doing some kind of detailed journal just ain’t gonna happen with our lives. It’s just too chaotic right now.”
Jordan felt a little shocked by her mom’s sense of anxiety but also somewhat relieved, I’m glad somebody said it.
Dr. Roots was a little taken aback but he nodded politely and said, “Ok. Now what about some medication to slow down the bladder contractions just a bit? It might help with this retraining and help her build up some more control?”
Turning to Jordan, Sally asked, “What do you think Jordie? Doctor are there side effects?”
“Well – people often experience painful urination, back pain, sometimes pain in their bladder, and sometimes have difficulty urinating. There are some less common side effects like headaches and loss of appetite or a cough. But it’s true that for many people, the side effects out weigh the benefits.”
Jordan thought for a moment and said, “I think I’ll try just the exercises for a while.”
“Ok sounds good. Lets’ get you scheduled for a follow-up in a few months alright?”
Both ladies nodded, Jordan feeling uncomfortable with just how comfortable she was becoming with being naked under a sheet in a doctor’s room.
“One more thing,” the doctor continued, “In truth, bladder capacity isn’t typically someone is just born with or a bodily defect. It is more of a learned condition like bicep size or muscle strength in another area of the bod. Meaning, if we don’t use our bladders to their full capacity for a long time, they’ll kind of quit working to their full potential. Make sense?”
Jordan nodded.
“It sounds as though your OB/GYN has dug through pretty thoroughly on other potential causes and I’m pretty confident in saying that you really don’t have a significant urological or neurological issue here. I mean, we could do an MRI or something but I just think it’s unnecessary. The most likely thing that happened, in my opinion, is that you originally had some kind of psychological event and the wetting was a kind of PTSD coping mechanism to it. The more you’ve wet, the less toned your bladder has become, and it’s been a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts.”
Jordan looked up at her mom and Sally looked back at her daughter.
“Perhaps you should considered seeing a psychological therapist in addition to the exercises to deal with the underlying cause.” He tried to make the suggestion with as much tact as he could muster. “Go ahead and get cleaned up and you can put your clothes back on.”
“Ok.” Jordan said, the only one to respond as the doctor turned to clean up his supplies. He left the room and the nurse went through the reverse process of removing all the equipment from Jordan before she was able to get dressed again. Just before she and her mom exited the room however, the doctor returned with his nurse apparently with a new set of questions.
“I meant to ask you about this the last time you were here. I was so focused on your nighttime incontinence that I forgot to ask. I saw in the charts that Dr. Yepp faxed over that Jordan ended up in the emergency room last month for a bladder infection? Has anything reoccurred with that since? Are you still experiencing any symptoms Jordan?”
“No it seems to be ok now. It was pretty bad though.” Jordan said wanting for the doctor to just go and let her get up and put clothes on.
“Jordan, often these infections are caused in women by sexual activity. I’d like to ask you some questions about that. Is it ok if your mom is here for that?”
Jordan felt awkward about the whole line of thought and about the weird invitation to kick her mom out. She of course hadn’t been sexually active – she hardly knew anything at all about the sexual bits she possessed.
“O…ok…she can st…stay though…”
“Jordan have you been sexually active with anyone? Male or female?”
She turned beet red. “No.” she replied a little incredulously.
“Well you need to know that it’s very important for women to keep clean down there, especially after sexual contact. Many women make it a point to urinate after every time they have intercourse in order to flush all the bacteria from that region. Because the female urethra is so short, it’s very easy for infections to happen so it’s important to develop healthy habits like this early or else you’ll end up with an abnormally high number of infections.”
“Um…no…I mean yes…I mean…she can stay…and no, I’m not…sexually active…” Jordan was still red and starting to feel a little defensive.
Sally cringed as the doctor spoke so frankly about sex. She wasn’t even sure if she’d talked with Jordan herself that frankly yet, which made her feel ashamed given that the girl was thirteen-years-old and carried all the signs of womanhood.
She decided to interject, “Well, Dr. Yepp seemed to think that it was probably the diapers that were the most likely contributor of the infection. He said to just be sure to keep clean and for me to check her during the night to make sure she doesn’t sit in a wet one for a long period of time.”
The girl under the sheet lying in a puddle of saline felt her heart thump hard in her chest as her mom brought up the “D” word. She had hoped it wouldn’t surface in front of these people because she had gathered from Dr. Yepp that doctors don’t seem to think of diapers with as much fondness as she did.
Dr. Roots did an almost imperceptible double take to Jordan and then back to Sally. He glanced down at the notes and flipped through the pages before speaking. “Hmm. Well, I can’t say it’s profoundly unusual for an older child to wear some kind of absorbent device to bed. But like Dr. Yepp apparently has said himself, we certainly don’t recommend it as a long-term treatment option. And did you infer that they’re full-blown diapers? And you’re putting them on her? I don’t want to be rude Mrs. Reynolds, but why? She’s thirteen! There are several products on the market today designed for older teens that are user friendly that she could easily handle herself.”
The two began to speak as if Jordan wasn’t sitting right there in the room.
“Those other products don’t work doctor. They leak. It kind of defeats the purpose of wearing them in the first place if all the pee just comes right out!”
MOOOM! Jordan pleaded with her eyes. Shut the hell up! This is mortifying! I can’t believe you’re telling him all that!
Sally continued, “We have a system figured out in our house that works adequately for us and we’re both comfortable with it. Diapers are a part of that. Perhaps your income can afford replacing destroyed mattresses on a monthly basis? Mine can’t! She needs help with the proper fit so they don’t leak.” Sally was ready to go to battle – allowing the stress from her divorce and all the other things from her life come to the surface there in that conversation.
Jordan cringed again, wishing she could crawl into a corner (after getting clothed) and die.
The doctor just stared at her in wonder before finally speaking. “Ok. Ok. Ok. Sorry, Mrs. Reynolds. No offense Intended. I just…” He decided to drop just how unusual her case seemed given the choice of treatment they had chosen and how defensive Sally seemed about it.
“You were trying to say…About the UTI?” Sally asked maternally.
“Well. UTIs are caused by bacteria usually starting in the urethra and then traveling to the bladder – sometimes to the kidney. Like I said, in girls and women, the urethra is real short so you all get UTIs relatively easily. Having old urine in a diaper right up next to your body for a long time (all night long for example) is a recipe for a UTI in and of itself.” He looked at Sally trying to allow that to sink in.
“Now, I see that she’s still got some of what I guess I diaper rash left and I saw that in her charts as well.” Then choosing to frame it in ways he was most comfortable with, “If she goes and smears a bunch of cream on or around the urethral opening without cleaning everything very very well beforehand, she’s inevitably gonna force some bacteria in there. My hunch is that if she practiced a little better cleanliness habits, the UTI issue would decline, regardless of the topical product you apply.”
The two ladies remained silent.
“My recommendation, if you insist on continuing with the diapers, is more showers, more baths, and more wiping (from front to back).” Still looking at Jordan who looked like a deer caught in the headlights, “Keep your genital area very clean and you won’t get UTIs – at least not very many. There’s probably a certain level of inevitability to it but you can’t help that as long as you’re in diapers.”
The two nodded silently and the doctor gave each of them a greeting before opening the door to them to leave. Jordan couldn’t bolt for the exit quickly enough.
Why was that guy so upset that mom helps me with my diapers? Jordan thought all of a sudden afraid. It feels like the more people who find out about them, the more likely it is that they’re gonna get taken away from me someday.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 15, 2014 at 7:50 AM
Content: I wish I could go back and edit posts a little further back -- but I guess the methodology is to just post a finished product all together once its all done then? With fixes and edits? Seems like kind of a bummer...
I'll point out for the purpose of this thread that I'm going to add a little nuance to Sally's request in the arbitration hearing in chapter 24 (regarding what specifically she was asking for re: child support and what is kind of automatic as per law) -- and you'll see that come out in character's reflections in upcoming chapters.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 18, 2014 at 6:53 AM
Content: Chapter 27 – [March 1, 2002]
Off work early on that Friday afternoon, Sally decided to let Jen continue the afternoon in childcare while her other girls were still in school. She had planned a coffee date with her newfound, old-time friend Jo Miller. The two hadn’t spent a great deal of time together since Bob Miller had returned home from alcohol dependency treatment – the Miller’s had been appropriately focusing most of their energy on their marriage and family life.
According to Jo, things were going well. Unbelievably well in fact. Bob was apparently like a new man – able to handle the stress of life in whole new ways. “Emotionally present” was the term Jo had used; in ways she had never witnessed their entire marriage. Bob had come alive.
As the two women sat in a nicely updated independent Freemont coffee shop near the waters of Lake Union, Sally twisted her hot cup of Chai Tea as she looked at her friend sucking down a draw of decadent Mocha. Jo had just asked Sally if Jordan’s bedwetting had been subsiding at all or if the urologist appointments had determined a more definite cause.
Sally had thought to herself earlier that morning on the way to the café, the oddness of the dynamic that had developed between she and her friend. It’s so weird that Jo’s kinda become my de facto counselor now.
On the one hand, Sally was four years older than Jo. On the other, back when the two were pregnant together with Jordan and Alex, Jo had been terrified about what was going to happen with her life. She and Bob weren’t married yet, he wasn’t a Christian even, and she and everyone else assumed that she had been the little side fling for the big-shot residency fellow. A dozen years ago many people in the church, including Sally, regarded Jo as their little ‘charity project’. In fact, many continued to think of her that way despite the reality that Jo had become a powerhouse of a woman with a high degree of emotional intelligence, wit, willpower, and courage.
After winning Bob’s hand in marriage shortly after Alex’s birth, she was ‘won’ to the church, and she then tenaciously pursued personal and spiritual growth through therapy, books, conferences and retreats over the subsequent years. She hadn’t been formally educated but she was wise beyond her 31 years.
I’m supposed to be the one who’s got it all together, Sally had thought, I’m the churchgoing missionary’s wife. I’m supposed to be the perfect stay-at-home mother of three with the perfect highlighted hair and clean house. I’m the one who’s husband is the big “homeless shelter guru” that everyone looks up to. I’m the one who’s supposed to have it all together. But really – Jo’s got way more figured out than me.
Sally had dark pouches clinging to her lower eyelids, making her long sleepless nights obvious to the public. Her black hair was pulled tightly back in a messy business bun and the blouse under her suit had been loosened. She leaned over her warm mug and breathed in its aroma.
“So he really doesn’t think he should have to contribute any child support to the girls? I don’t understand Sally. That seems like such a normal and benign request.” Jo had been saying.
“No. No. No. He seemed to be ok with the concept in principle. Like, he said that he didn’t want to be a ‘dead beat dad’ and everything. It was just specifically asking for him to pay the school bill that seemed to set him off.” She twisted her cup in her hand as Jo took a sip of her coffee. “He was being so nice too. Like when he had spoken, he was saying how he wanted me to keep the house and how he wanted the girls to be as stable as possible. I was shocked when he flew off the handle like that…I probably should’ve thought it through more before I said it. But honestly, It seems so basic now that I’m not surprised I just blurted it out…”
“Maybe he was trying to butter you up in the beginning…maybe he thought he could pull the wool over your eyes by saying you could have the house and being so sweet about the girls – that he could get off with the minimal financial commitment?” Jo said, as she looked her friend in the eyes.
“Yeah I guess so. But what kind of idiot does he take me for? I mean, I’ve never been the kind of woman to just close my eyes and ignore something as important as finances our entire marriage!”
“Maybe it was her plan and not his?” Jo raised her eyebrows with the suggestion.
“That honestly had crossed my mind Jo. It sounded more like her than it did him.” She twisted her cup on the tips of her long fingers some more as she thought. “I mean, the voice and the delivery and the tactical part of it was him. But the strategy? It made no sense.”
Jo nodded.
“The rage was his though. That’s classic Ted. Did I ever tell you about the time when he almost wrecked the van after running out with it one night after we had an argument about him staying late at work 3 nights in a row?”
Jo shook her head, mouth full of coffee.
“He had probably been spending those nights with that red-haired bimbo.” She seethed looking down at her tea and then outside the coffee shop window.
“So what do you think he’s got up his sleeves? You think that was just an empty threat – all that stuff you said he yelled at you?” When they had first started talking about the divorce, Sally had begun crying and recounted Ted’s bout of rage without much of the background.
“I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past him but I can’t really imagine what… He’s scary though. That’s for sure. Especially thinking that Melissa is helping him plan whatever it is that he’s got cooking.”
“Well. You’re a great mom and you have amazing support from your community. It’s he that chose this Sally and we will be with you through it. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Even if you end up needing help – like with your lawyer or childcare or whatever – I already talked to Bob and we’re in agreement that we want to take care of it.” Both women began to tear up. “Do you hear me? We’ll take care of it. We have it to spend.”
Thankful to have such a gracious and humble teacher in her life, Sally, cried more in earnest and Jo reached across to grab her hand. The two sat in silence at the small Freemont coffee shop for a while before Jo asked her about Jordan and her bedwetting problem.
“Well, actually it still hasn’t subsided at all. If anything it maybe even is getting worse. The other night after she found out she won that writing competition thing, she woke up after having a nightmare and had leaked clear through the diaper and all over her bed like she used to before she was even wearing anything at all.”
Jo was silent but nodded.
Thinking about the advice of the urologist to have Jordan checked out by a psychologist, Sally said, “It first started way back on the night of 9/11. She was so stressed and scared and Ted was nowhere to be found. It completely terrified her. And it’s gone on almost every single night since without letup.”
Jo looked at her with concerned surprise. “Wow Sally, this seems like a pretty significant problem. In all the rush of babysitting and everything, I hadn’t realized how long it had been going on.”
“Yeah. And the urologist we saw after her infection really didn’t seem to find much wrong with her either. I mean, he says that her bladder volume isn’t up to par – and that she needs to retrain it; stretch it to increase its size.” Sally flipped her hand in the air dismissively, demonstrating the level of respect she had for the man. “But other than that, there’s not a lot he can do apparently. There is some medication that sounds mildly effective – but that has quite a few side effects that might almost be as bad. He suggested taking her to a shrink.”
Noticing Sally’s seeming frustration or disrespect for the doctor, Jo responded carefully. “Well, it sounds like you yourself think that maybe there’s a psychological factor in this Sally. Perhaps letting Jordan see someone would be helpful? I can tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to make it through Bob’s alcoholism without support from therapists.”
Sally looked up, surprised that her friend thought a psychologist was actually a realistic possibility, “Yeah, maybe I guess.”
Sensing that flow of conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Jo dropped it and said, “So diapers continue to be the stopgap then, huh?” She took another draw on her Mocha.
Sally pepped back up, “Well that might’ve been the weirdest part of the whole appointment with the guy. It was really strange…” She paused, “But first, I have to tell you a little background…Jordan got her first period back in in November…”
Jo’s brown eyes lit up a little bit almost as if she was as jealous as Alex was of Jordan’s ‘good’ fortune.
Sally continued “…and so shortly after that, I took her in to see Dr. Yepp my OB/GYN for her first consult and to get his opinion on the bedwetting. Anyways, he was the first doctor who suggested that diapers would be a good solution for managing her problem – to keep the bed dry and whatever.”
Jo nodded and smiled slightly.
“That made sense to me. I mean we’ve used pull-ups for years with Mindi. She’s 6 and is just now starting to have consistent dry nights!”
Jo didn’t react but was clearly making eye contact and listening.
“Well anyways, this week, however many weeks after seeing Dr. Yepp (even a second time), we go in to see this Roto Rooter doctor guy and he bites my head off for having Jordie wear a diaper at night. I mean, I thought he was a like, a ‘diaper doctor’? Isn’t that what urologists give out to people and stuff? It was like he was allergic to the thought of her wearing one.”
“Hmmm.” Jo said in tacit agreement.
“Do you think it’s weird that she’s wearing diapers Jo? Is it wrong? I mean, it’s not like I’m forcing her or anything!”
The mother of three sounded quite defensive and actually had begun to turn red along her neckline and cheekbones as she told the story.
Thinking for a moment, Jo paused before she responded. “You know Sally, It did strike me as a little peculiar at first when you called me and asked for help. I mean I’d expect a teenager with a bedwetting problem (it’s relatively common you know) to just wear one of those big kid pull-up things; ‘good-nights’ or whatever they’re called. And that’s only if a kid her age would be willing to put on anything like that at all!”
Sally nodded gravely, calming slightly.
“But like you said, you guys tried those and she was leaking very badly with them and she was willing to try something else. So you did. Makes sense. It didn’t seem coerced or painful for her to have to wear them other than the expected levels of embarrassment any teenager might have. I think you need to relax and ignore his quibbles. Doctors have lots of pressure on them but they mean well and they’re very smart. You’re doing the very best you can – and from my perspective that’s pretty damn good!”
Even more calm, Sally nodded and finally said, “Thanks Jo – You’re really amazing.”
“You’re welcome Sally.”
The two friends raised their near empty mugs in a toast and continued the meandering conversation in different directions as the afternoon wore into evening.
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At school that day, Jordan had tried to follow doctor rooter’s (or whatever his name was) orders about stretching her bladder by waiting as long as possible in between bathroom trips. It had been difficult. Typically, she would’ve gone to the ladies’ room for a break in between every class because if she didn’t, by the middle of the second class she would be desperate. She had begun to feel a little conflict about her bedwetting and diapers after her appointment. Although she had grown in her appreciation of the nightly moments with her Mom, she also had seen her Mom’s growing stress level around the house.
What if I really can fix this? Maybe it would be for the better?
That morning however, she decided to forgo the bathroom stop in between History and English and by the time she got half way through English, beads of sweat had begun to build up on her forehead and she had begun to squirm in her seat. It had been terribly painful and although she made it to the end without a leak, she had had to race past Mr. Johns fully ignoring him as he had beckoned her to stop and discuss the details of their upcoming trip the Washington D.C.
When she had come back, he was in his break period and he had assumed her haste was for the reason it actually was (sans the urologist, bedwetting, bladder retraining, and everything else) and he didn’t mention it.
“Jordan, welcome back!” He smiled. “I wanted to talk with you for a minute about our trip. Are you excited? It’s only a month away!”
She had smiled brightly. “YES! I’m so excited!”
“Now, the main thing we need to talk about right now is who you’re gonna bring. I’m coming of course and I’m gonna pay for Mrs. Johns to join me (she grew up in this little hick town in Oregon and has never been to D.C. before, believe it or not). But NPR will pay for you to choose one additional chaperone to bring along. That could be your mom…” he hesitated for a moment, “…you dad if you want...a grandparent or some other family member. Whoever you’d like.”
Jordan had nodded, her smile not quite as bright.
“But I need to know right away – like in the next week or so because we need to get tickets purchased and stuff.” He looked at her asking silently for a commitment.
“Ok Mr. Johns. Sure. I’ll be sure to figure it out soon. Maybe by Monday or something.” She had said.
He had continued, “On the trip, we’ll do some sightseeing around the city. Visit the major attractions. We’ll tour the studio and go to a special award ceremony and dinner. You’ll get to meet Natalie Portman, the actress who’s going to be recording your story for the radio. You know who that is right?”
“Of course! She’s in the new Star Wars movies. The next one is coming out next month!” Jordan had said excitedly.
“Yep.” Mr. Johns had smiled. “We’ll probably fit in some shopping and of course there’ll be good food. The hotel will no doubt have a swimming pool so be sure to bring your suit!”
The mention of the hotel had led Jordan to think about the accommodations.
“Oh cool!” Trying to ask her question as delicately as possible she said, “So will we all be sharing a room or will we have a couple?” Pausing she added, “Because if I bring my Dad or something I might wanna bring my sleeping bag cuz he snores pretty loud and I don’t wanna sleep next to him!” She had laughed loudly and quite fake sounding.
Mr. Johns had joined politely. “Oh no of course not. You and your chaperone will get your own room with two beds if you want and my wife and I will share our own room as well. Not to worry about having to share a bed.”
He had smiled and she had smiled back.
“OK great! Thanks Mr. Johns!” She had said and bounded off down the hall.
For the rest of the day, the seventh grader that stood head and shoulders above quite a few of the high school kids had decided not to try as hard to retrain her bladder as before. She had reasoned to herself, I really DO NOT want an accident during the day at school. That would make ME incredibly stressed. At night is one thing. But that would be the most horrific thing ever. And furthermore, maybe my wetting and stuff is one of the things that’s helping mom be so nice in the first place? What if I stop and then it actually causes mom to be sweet? What if I lose my diapers? What will happen to me?
She mixed her mind up until it was in knots about theories and cause and effect. Regardless, she could sense a dilemma approaching.
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Later that night, after everyone but Sally and Jordan was in bed in the ranch style home on 22nd avenue, Jordan tiptoed to her mom’s room wearing just a t-shirt and her night diaper. She had become increasingly comfortable wearing them around the house since she had been wearing them so often in the afternoons.
Sally had heard her coming and put her book down before the door creaked open. The girl looked like an overgrown version of Jen in her getup. Plopping on the foot of the bed, stomach down, knees bent, and feet in the air, the teenage girl looked pretty comfortable in her infantile attire.
“What’s up honey?” Sally asked knowing something was amiss.
“Well – are you gonna be able to come with me to Washington D.C. during spring break?”
Sally knew this question was overdue and had been expecting it. The trip was to take place during spring break and she there was no possible way she could take time off work so early on in a new job – and two weeks before April 15 no less!
Her face fell. “I’m really sorry hone---“
“I knew it!” Jordan interrupted and began to cry.
Sally stiffened at first, feeling defensive at first, almost ready to fight. “Jordan…”, she began before catching herself and thinking better of it. She then shifted positions and crawled to a place where she could rub and scratch her daughter’s back through her soft cotton shirt.
“Jordan, I’m really really sorry sweetie. But I’ve got this new job now as a CPA and they won’t let me off work for anything. I’m really sorry sweetie.” She continued to scratch. “And it’ll be tax time which is the busiest time of the year. No one gets vacation time then. No one even gets sick time then. Even if I have bad cramps or diarrhea or I was bleeding my brains out I’d still have to go to work.” She was trying to be a little cute and cracked a grin. But for Jordan, it wasn’t funny.
The diapered adolescent popped her head up and exclaimed, “Mooomma! What am I gonna do? I don’t want daddy to go! He probably wouldn’t go anyways. He’s so selfish.”
“Jordan don’t talk about your father that way.” She said firmly. “He loves you very much and I’m sure he’d love to go. He’s made some mistakes and we will need to forgive him. I think we should ask him if he’d like to go.” Sally had an extremely difficult time choking it out but she wanted to be a good example and a good mother for her daughter. She didn’t want her own drama and (honestly) hatred of Ted get in the way of Jordan growing up healthy and she knew it had been bleeding over during the past several weeks.
Sally felt Jordan’s back tense up as her own tension rose.
Jordan said, “I’ll stay home if he goes,” her face planted back in the pillow.
The mother of 3 knew she wouldn’t get far trying to cajole her adolescent daughter out of that particular position – and she didn’t blame her in truth.
“Ok, Ok, Ok. How about this? How about I call Mr. Johns tomorrow and talk to him about it and see if there are any alternative options for the trip ok?”
A long silence ensued as the girl’s muscles became slightly more pliable under Sally’s motherly massage.
Jordan was thinking about her diapers and about how, although she trusted her mom implicitly, she had been the one to tell most of the people about her bedwetting who now knew. She worried that between her Mom and Mr. Johns, the two might come up with some sponsor that didn’t even know her and that person would be in charge of her diapers and then the word would get out all over school.
Somehow by a kind of mother-magic-psychic abilities, Sally was able to read this in her daughter’s mind. “Listen Jordan, I promise I won’t tell your teacher or anyone else about your bedwetting without your permission ok? You don’t have to be stressed. We’ll figure out a solution you can live with. Together. I want you to be able to go on this trip and have a great time. I’m not gonna wreck it for you. Ok?”
Jordan rolled over on her back, exposing her bellybutton. Sally couldn’t help but think that Jordan looked just like she had when she was 3 with her head resting on her thigh and looking up with her big hazel eyes. She looked content and peaceful.
But inside, Jordan felt afraid. Is dad gonna have to go in the end? Will he have to CHANGE ME? Will he insist on bringing Melissa? What if I refuse? What if some stranger goes instead? What if Mrs. Miller could come along? Could I go with just the Johns’ alone? How awkward would that be!
The girl’s mind didn’t quit churning even after her mom had led her by the hand back to her own bedroom or after she had crawled under her covers.
Funny – I won the stupid competition and I feel more stressed out now than I did before! She thought as she finally dozed off to sleep.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 24, 2014 at 5:07 AM
Content: Chapter 28 – [March 15, 2002]
Sitting across from one another at a library cubicle on the second floor whispering, the two sat deep in conversation. It was the most coveted space in study hall: the corner seat overlooking the school playground with views of the Puget Sound behind. Of all the rooms in BCS, the library was the coolest. It had high ceilings with exposed ductwork and conduit painted flat black, slate flooring, hardwood tables, leather couches, and fancy lights that attached to powered pairs of cables that stretched across great lengths of space.
The girls in conversation with their bobbed and highlighted haircuts and trendy earrings looked as though they should’ve been the most popular in school. But their voices betrayed fear of a fall.
“So what have you heard about our pee-pee pants girl lately?” Amber had whispered very quietly, leaning forward.
“Nothing since you heard the rumor from Ed.” Nicole said leaning forward as well.
“Well I’ve heard something new.”
Nicole’s eyebrows raised, “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Amber smiled deviously, still whispering. “My sister Annalisa is in Kindergarten you know. Right?”
Nicole nodded.
“Well, as it turns out, my sister heard a rumor in her class that there’s a girl in her class who has an older sister who wets the bed every night and wears diapers for it.” Amber raised her eyebrows and sat back.
Nicole’s eyes widened. “Wow. Diapers? Like baby diapers like Luvs or Pampers or something? Jeez! Jordan you are a real baby aren’t you!” She mused out loud before pausing to think. “Did Anna hear who the rumor came from? Like who was telling about the older sister in the first place?”
“Annalisa heard it third hand – she doesn’t know who originally told it and I didn’t want to make a big deal of it by pressuring her to go back and ask around or something. She’s just barely 6, she would screw it up probably. But do you know who else is in her class?”
“Mindi Reynolds.” Nicole smiled.
“Yep.”
Still whispering Nicole said, “Amber, I know this is almost for sure another thing that points to Jordan as our bedwetting freak – but it still’s just circumstantial unless Anna knows for sure. I don’t think we can go public yet.”
Amber thought for a few seconds, feeling the air being let out of her balloon. “Hmmmm.” She could truly feel time slipping by and she was getting more and more frustrated with the tall brunette’s popularity, especially after she had a whole assembly all about her!
Reluctantly she said, “I guess maybe you’re right. It’s adding up though…but maybe we’re still in the same boat as before. We need physical proof. A picture. A wet diaper. Some piss stained undies or something. We need to embarrass the shit out’a her. Then we’ll tell the stories and it’ll be no denying it. She and her pee problem will be the laughing stock of the school.”
Nicole giggled quietly and Amber joined her. The obsession the two had with lopping off the tallest looking tulip standing tall among them in the garden was beyond immature -- but certainly not beyond their status as fickle 8th graders.
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That sunny Friday afternoon at home, Jordan was boarded up inside the house all alone once again. With Mindi in after school care as usual, Jen at daycare, and her mom out to coffee with her newfound best friend Jo Miller another time, she knew she had several hours with the house to herself. And that meant several hours of diapered writing time at the computer.
Ever since the end of January when she had accidentally stumbled upon the practice for the first time, the tall 7th grader had been regularly repeating it during these solitary daytime hours. That first time, she had felt incredibly embarrassed about what she had been doing and questioned her sanity, feeling like a freak of nature. However, the purple plastic diaper had felt strangely peaceful between her legs – somewhat like the experience at night – and she had been unable to break the practice over the subsequent weeks.
It hadn’t been every afternoon that Jordan dawned one of her thick molicare diapers under her short BCS school skirt (or simply bare with just a polo), but it had been often enough that she had begun to worry that her mom might notice diapers missing. Thus, she had tried to keep her extra-diaper time to just those days where she knew she would have extended hours available to ‘play’.
That particular March Friday, school let out early, just after noon and as Jordan had hopped off her bus and toddled home, almost the only thing on her mind had been getting in the door, getting her diaper on, and pushing building contents of her bladder into it.
The first time she had worn during the day, she had also been unable to wet her diaper. Since then, however, she had ‘retrained’ herself (or de-trained) so that she could essentially pee on command if she pushed it out. The warmth of the pee between her legs and butt followed by the squishiness of the wet diaper between her legs had grown to be a delightful yet shameful feeling for her. She also felt guilty for the negative progress she was sure this was likely to have on her bladder-stretching program.
As she walked in the house that afternoon, Jordan quickly threw her backpack on the couch and closed and locked the door behind her. She pulled the shades and headed to her bedroom kicking her black school flats off on the way and loosening the fasteners on her pleated skirt. Letting it fall to the floor, she pushed her panties down and reached into the closet to find only one diaper left in the current bag of diapers.
Oh SHIT! I can’t use this one mom will totally know because I’ll have to put out a new bag and open it. Jordan thought rapidly but not entirely clearly, desperately wanting a diaper. Shit, what can I do? What can I do?
The thirteen-year-old girl, naked from the waist down wearing only a school blouse with a scarf around its neck, thought about breaking open one of the unopened cases of molicare diapers in her closet. I could pull one out of one of the bags in there I guess – but that’d be obvious too!
“Crap.” She whispered, scratching her rear end, feeling the urge to pee rise toward urgent.
Desperate now in more ways than one, I wonder if I still have any GoodNites left over somewhere?
Back in the fall when she had first started to wet the bed, her mom had started her out on the bedwetting pants for older kids but Jordan had leaked through them so often that she had switched Jordan to regular diapers. The tall slender girl rifled around in the closet on her knees hoping to find a single GoodNite somewhere.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (and after feeling a few droplets of pee leak out and down her inner thigh) she found a partially full bag. Opening one of the pants up gently, being careful not to tear it as she had often done with her sister’s pull-ups, she stepped into each of the leg holes of the all white garment and ever so slowly pulled it up. As they had done so well before, it fit just fine. Immediately with her legs slightly apart, Jordan let go and flooded the disposable undergarment.
As she felt the weight of her pee soak the middle and lower butt area, she crawled onto her bed and laid on her stomach, a trick she had learned to coax the liquid into the front panel’s absorbent matt. It soaked it up after a minute or two. She then gently rolled over to her back and the remaining excess soaked backward up her backside.
Thoroughly saturated and heavy, but also feeling a sense of relief and peace. Jordan stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. The girl who looked back was tall, long haired, slender, wearing just a white blouse with BCS emblazoned on the right breast, and she had just the hint of a yellow tinged white cotton diaper poking out of the bottom of the shirt between her legs. Immediately Jordan’s shame flared up.
What the hell am I doing? What is this all about? She talked to herself before beginning a round of chiding.
Look at you Jordan! Are you that desperate for affection and love? What do you get out of this? Look at you standing there in your own piss! What the hell is this? What the fuck is wrong with you? What would mom say if she knew? What would DAD say?
A lump formed in her throat at the thought of the man who she once hoped would just take notice of her life.
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During the very moments when Jordan was urinating on herself in her bedroom at home, Sally was sitting with her friend Jo at the Freemont coffee shop that had quickly become both of their favorites. It had only been two weeks since their previous meeting at the very same spot – talking about the very same subject.
As coincidence would have it, Sally was in the middle of telling Jo about how she was beginning to wonder (as strange as it might sound) if Jordan might be having accidents during the day.
“It’s weird Jo, we’re just going through them at an ungodly pace…much faster than at the beginning when it first started. MUCH faster. And it’s true that since her infection I’ve been changing her some during the night but there’s no way it could account for this. I don’t change her every night – and sometimes we’ll go through a whole back in a little over a week. That’s 14 diapers!”
Jo looked at Sally with concern on her face. It was an odd conversation to be having and in all honesty, she kind of felt uncomfortable with where she expected it to lead.
“Well. I’ve gotta tell you Sally, that does seem odd to me too.” Jo mustered to say.
“Do you think she could be having problems with incontinence during the day as well or something – and just not telling me about it?” the worried mom asked honestly.
Well that’s a thought. But not likely. Jo thought.
For the past couple weeks since their previous coffee shop conversation, Jo hadn’t been able to get Jordan’s diaper wearing out of her mind. As she thought more and more about what had happened during the two days she had spent at the Reynolds’s home, she had developed a theory about Jordan; and Sally’s question became the platform for sharing it.
“Sally, Jordan’s not incontinent.” Said Jo rather bluntly.
“Oh.” Sally said taking it as truth then pausing to think, still somewhat cheery, “Then…where’re the extra diapers going? Why----”
“Sally! Haven’t you noticed how she behaves when you’re putting them on her every night? I mean she’s a thirteen-year-old young woman with breasts, hips, a menstrual cycle, and a bush for Christ’s sake! But you’ve been putting her in giant purple diapers like a toddler for the past five months! Doesn’t that strike you as the least bit odd?”
Sally’s eyes widened. Jo had never raised her voice like this before and the content of her words were so stark – and true. She wondered if she was condemning her for her parenting practices.
“I mean, it seems fairly normal that a thirteen-year-old who’s embarrassed of having to wear a diaper to bed might do a crappy job of putting it on herself – leading to leaks. So I can see how, in the very narrow circumstance of having given full consent (and in the absence of any coercion), that girl might be willing to receive some help in getting fixed up for bed. But in Jordan’s case she’s not only tolerated help, she’s blossomed under it!”
Jo looked straight at Sally appearing quite serious but also compassionate.
“I mean, seriously Sally. She’s doing better socially, emotionally, and academically now than she’s done all year – probably in 2 or 3years! Getting diapered by you every night seems to be just about the best thing that could’ve happened to her from my point of view.” Sally froze as her friend said the words, almost as though she had come to expect a harsh judgment. In truth, she had never fully considered what Jo was suggesting.
They both were silent for a while before the older woman finally spoke, “Well she was just so stressed when she started wetting the bed and when Ted left and after 9/11 and so I just did what came natural and she just seemed so fragile…” Immediately, she sounded defensive and almost disoriented as she rapidly spoke.
“Sally…Sally dear…” Jo said shaking her head gently and calmly reaching her hands out to put them on Sally’s, holding her cup.
Tears dribbled down Sally’s face. “Am I a terrible mother Jo? Did I do this to her? Have I damaged her somehow?” Her eyes darted around the room – hazy – as if looking for an enemy.
Her mind had trailed off once again to Ted and his rage-filled threats at their meeting about a month before, all of a sudden a flood of fear washed over the now bewildered woman.
“Jo! What if Ted somehow attacks me with this? What if he tells the judge about it and accuses me of….of…,” she could hardly stomach to utter the words, “…abuse of some kind? What if he tries to use it against me to take the girls away? What have I done Jo? Is this abuse? Am I doing something wrong? What would a social worker or therapist or psychologist say about me putting giant diapers on my teenage daughter every night? Oh God I can’t take her to a shrink now!”
Jo’s eyes began to get watery as well. “Oh no, I didn’t mean that Sally. No. No. No.” She shook her head once again. Sally looked up and sniffed, clearly agitated, snot piling up in her nose and tears streaking her cheeks.
“You’re not a terrible mother. I don’t think you’ve damaged your daughter. I don’t think you’ve caused this reaction in Jordan either.” Jo said through her own tear buildup.
Jo tried to lock eyes with Sally but she was looking down again.
“Ted can do whatever he wants – you have no control over that. Maybe he’ll make an accusation about your work or your finances or your sex life. You have no idea what it might or might not be. Maybe he’ll do nothing. Maybe those were empty threats. There’s no reason you should carry around all this anxiety or fear about what he could do. I mean, look at you! You’re practically shaking girl!”
Jo smiled and motioned for Sally to take a mental inventory. She obliged reluctantly and quickly noticed and then remained focused on her trembling hands.
“All you can do is take care of yourself; prepare yourself inside to weather storms of loss and frustration and injustice in case they do come; and be the best mother you can be to your lovely girls – including Jordie.”
Sally quietly nodded, still looking down.
“And you’re right Sally, Jordan was clearly under a Ton of stress back in September and my best guess would be that she apparently regressed as an unconscious response to it. She seemed to be looking for more motherly,” (or maybe fatherly? Jo thought to herself parenthetically), “care and nurture – and she found it in the nightly routine you fostered with one another.”
Reiterating what she had said moments ago, hoping it would stick in Sally’s mind just how much she thought it was true Jo continued, “At first, it seems like you were taking care of the bedwetting and diaper thing out of a genuine physical need. She was leaking out of it badly after doing it herself. Since she didn’t mind the help, it seemed reasonable to risk the embarrassment to get it right.”
Sally nodded slightly feeling a little more vindicated and a little less scared of an accusation that Ted might bring. She also felt gratitude for her friend.
“But I’m sure your motherly intuition has picked up on what I noticed when I took care of Jordie after her stay in the ER.” Jo paused and looked at Sally knowingly. “She melts Sally. She just melts when she gets her diaper every single time.”
Jo waited for that to sink in. “Jordie just glows like a newborn when she’s getting taken care of. Every time I put her in her diaper for bed, she utterly relaxed and just sunk into this state of perfect serenity and trust…and I bet she does it when you take care of her too. Huh?”
Sally stayed silent, eyes widening as if Jo had conjured up her latest private journal entry. Yet it was at the same time a revelation for Sally. Although she knew she had felt and believed these things to be true before just under the surface, they had never been admitted or fully acknowledged.
“What I saw when I babysat Jordan for you was a teenage girl that’s learned to use being diapered as a kind of emotional crutch. She doesn’t need anyone’s help physically in my opinion – she needs it emotionally Sally. Like really genuinely needs it. And someone’s gotta have compassion for that.” Jo hesitated again.
“The first time I saw it happen I wrote it off as nonsense. But each and every subsequent time it was the same exact thing. She’d lie down on the bed and her anxiety would just melt away like frost on glass and she’d sink into relaxation.” Jo took a drink of coffee.
Sally still didn’t respond, but she knew it was all true.
“It’s a coping mechanism Sally. Like thumb sucking; like pot-smoking; like sex or bulimia or ice cream or a thousand other things kids learn to do to deal with life. Only this one is relatively harmless in my opinion. Risky socially of course if it ever gets discovered – but ultimately harmless. A diaper and snuggle from mommy is like Jordan’s “tween gin and tonic” before bed.”
She laughed out loud and Sally chuckled along with her, thinking Jo should be a little more uncomfortable with her chosen metaphor.
“And If I’m not mistaken – not only is it harmless, it’s something you kinda find sweet as well…Right? Don’t you like being able to be her ‘mommy’ again like this?” Jo looked her in the eye for confirmation.
The mother at heart couldn’t help but tear up and look away.
A long silence ensued once again. Each woman took long draws on their hot-mugged drinks before Sally finally spoke.
Summarizing Jo’s theory Sally said, “So Jordan’s wearing her diapers during the day. She’s putting them on herself. She’s doing it after school when she goes home and is all alone. She’s hiding it from me…”
“That’s what I’m guessing Sally. I could very well be wrong. But that’s what I’m guessing.”
The older woman nodded. “Thank-you Jo. You’re the best friend I could even hope to have.”
“Of course dear. Of course.” She smiled.
Almost to herself, Sally then said, “So if Jordie’s doing that during the day then? Does that mean she doesn’t want me to help her anymore at night?”
“Why don’t you ask her Sally?” Jo said.
A lump started to form in the woman’s throat.
- - - Updated - - -
================================
Sorry for the longer delay this time. I was on a business trip and didn't have any time to work on it at all.
I decided to just post a chapter I had already finished and cut into my buffer a little bit
I should be able to write a little bit tonight and maybe post another chapter at the end of this week. We'll see.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 25, 2014 at 1:25 AM
Content: Chapter 29 – [Wednesday March 27, 2002]
Tyler Johns paced back and forth through the small kitchen in he and Adrian’s 1,100 square foot Apartment in the University District. The linoleum flooring peeled up under the shadow of the aged darkly stained walnut veneer cabinetry. The florescent lighting above his head fizzled orang-blue light. His upper torso disappeared from Adrian’s view behind the overhanging row of cabinets as he alternated positions back toward the sink. When he reappeared each time, the look on his face was increasingly unsettled.
“I know you’ve been looking forward to this trip Tyler but it just scares me. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me her mom wasn’t coming back when you found out! How can we possibly take her without a chaperone going along? You’ve seen what he’s capable of!”
Mr. Johns continued to pace. It was 11:30pm and board meeting had run late. He was deeply disturbed on more than one level.
“You’re right honey, I know. I’m scared too. You’ve gotta know I’m terrified!”
He stopped and leaned his weight on the counter and looked at his wife sitting at their dining room table through the opening under the 1980’s cabinetry. “We can’t do this to her though Adrian. She worked so hard. She’s earned this. And it isn’t fair to her that none of her own people will come through for her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her mom not coming…I just…I was just scared I guess. I knew you’d be right about this.”
“I understand Tyler. Really I do. She’s a sweet girl and we’ve all seen how she’s blossomed with this writing thing. But what if she comes up with some crazy accusation on the trip or something? You’re so careful around school to make sure you’re never alone with a student – you always have your office door open – you never stay in the building after hours unless you’re in a public place with other employees. I mean – her dad could do anything to you now.”
She paused, trying to let the events of the past several months sink in.
“One untrue allegation could ruin your whole career Tyler. That’s all it takes.”
Mr. Johns had never done or thought anything even remotely inappropriate with regards to a student and such an allegation was just about his worst nightmare in life.
She’s right. Again. He thought to himself beginning to pace once more.
That evening at the board meeting for Hope Seattle, Mr. Johns had chosen to use his considerable moral influence on the board to sway the vote in order to maintain Ted Reynolds as CEO. Earlier in the year, when the news of his affair had become public knowledge, Mr. Johns had been deeply concerned and offended by the breech of trust. He had immediately made a motion on the board to remove Ted as the leader. At that time in November, the board wasn’t ready to vote either way and in the subsequent months, informal coalitions were built and alliances were formed on each side. Mr. Johns was powerful (albeit young) and he had quickly amassed the votes to oust the standing CEO.
However, being the careful tactician that he is, Ted had apparently allied himself with his long time friend and donor PJ Yates, the software entrepreneur and then full-time philanthropist. As it turned out, Yates also happened to be on the school board as well. Before the board Hope Seattle meeting in December, Yates had threatened Mr. Johns on no uncertain terms with a similar vote with regards to his job at Ballard Christian School if he allowed the Ted to be fired at Hope Seattle. He had told Mr. Johns that Ted and Sally were in agreement about their marriage, that they were working it out amicably, and that it was no big deal.
The truth was that Yates was offering blackmail, pure and simple. Mr. Johns had pushed to delay the vote for three months following the clandestine meeting – feeling deeply confused and conflicted about what he should do.
As he paced back and forth in front of his wife that March night, he thought about the vote that had finally just taken place. I’m such a sellout. What kind of loser backs down like I did? What kind of weakling tells his supporters not to vote against cutting lose such a weasel? I can’t believe I let that bastard PJ Yates manipulate me like that! I can’t believe I could be so easily manipulated for a few shekel’s of silver. I feel like a money-grubbing tax collector who only cares about maintaining his position and not about principle. Ted’s such a conniving sleaze bag. But at least he sticks to his guns…He’s a tactician, I’ll give him that.
“You’re right honey,” he said again stopping out in the hall, looking into her eyes.
Silently they continued to stare.
“I feel like such a loser though Adrian. I feel like such a sellout. Like a wimp who won’t take a risk or do what’s right – one who just runs for cover to look out for his neck.”
A tear streaked down his face.
She got up to put her arm around him.
“What did I do tonight? What do I even stand for?” He was crying now. Ashamed. “That jerk broke up his whole family. He sleeps around with that tramp Melissa and dumps his wonderful and beautiful girls and he just gets to keep his job at the CHRISTIAN shelter and act like he’s God’s gift to everything and like he didn’t do anything wrong?”
Adrian didn’t say anything but continued to rub his shoulder.
“And I had a chance to do something! To offer justice to those girls! Offer justice to Jordan. To show her that what her dad did was wrong and there are consequences. And all I did was cover my own butt. I chickened out!”
He sobbed almost uncontrollably in embarrassment and sadness.
“Ted you had to do what you had to do. You had to protect our family. Sometimes things like us are more important than sticking it to the man. He’ll get what he has coming some day. Don’t worry. But if you don’t look out for us once in a while, we’ll end up lost by the side of the road.”
They both were silent for a long time before ted spoke again.
“We have to take her Adrian. We have to go.” His face hardened and he looked up. “I have to do this. I can’t pussy out again and just look to save my ass. This girl needs someone to show up for her and it’s gonna be us. The tickets have already been paid for anyways. Everything’s been reserved. We have to do this.” He said firmly and with eyes clear (albeit red and puffy).
Not surprised by his newfound resolve, Adrian said, “Ok Tyler are you sure? There’s a lot of risk here. I’ll do it – but shoot. It’s scary. But maybe it’s worth it.”
“I’m sure Adrian. I’m sure.”
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“So why can’t you just take a friend on the trip? LIKE ME?” Alex struck a pose and framed her face in her hands. “If you ask me, it seems kinda stupid that the second person has to be a ‘chaperone’.” Alex was saying as they walked into the bathroom before their first period class the next morning at school
“I dunno Alex. I know! It’s so stupid! I mean both Mr. and Mrs. Johns are going! It’s not like there won’t be enough supervision!” Jordan replied, smoothing out her school skirt and looking in the mirror at her long brown hair.
“So why can’t your…Dad…go…Since your mom can’t?” Alex then asked a little awkwardly, not wanting to drag up a painful subject but genuinely curious.
“Alex! What the hell? I’ve hardly talked with him since Christmas. And I’ve gone with him on visits since Christmas like twice. I barely wanna see him let alone go on a trip with him! I’d almost rather not go than have to take him!” She looked a little incredulous.
“Oh…yeah…that’s kinda what I figured…” Alex said, trying to play it cool but not fully being able to relate given the turnaround she had seen in her own father.
“But you know, I’m gonna be fine. I like Mr. and Mrs. Johns a lot and even though I can’t substitute you for my mom, I think it’s gonna be really fun.”
Alex smiled and entered a stall as Jordan continued to primp in the mirror, momentarily sniffing the air around herself to see if she could detect any Desitin diaper rash cream her mom had continued to insist on applying nearly daily.
“So what’re you gonna say when you meet Natalie Portman!?” Alex yelled from behind the metal door.
Jeez Alex, way to be comfortable with your bodily functions, Jordan thought before thinking, I guess I’m kinda comfortable and open with some of mine too though.
Yelling back she said, “I dunno, what’d’you suggest?”
As if she had been thinking about it all day, Alex said, “Wellllll…I think you should ask her if she was a Star Wars fan when she was a kid and what it was like to wear that crazy princess outfit. AND if she got to keep a lightsaber!”
The toilet flushed.
“Um…ok…” Jordan responded feeling awkward, “inquiring minds want to know…”
Emerging from the stall, Alex’s voice dropped, “So…what’re you gonna do about…you know…?” She glanced down toward Jordan’s waist.
Quickly Jordan’s eyes darted around the bathroom. “Alex!” she hissed.
“Jordie, no one’s in here! I just think you ought’a think it through a little better than your birthday party if you wanna keep it a secret you know?” She whispered honestly.
Jordan nodded.
“Are you gonna be sharing a hotel room with them?” Alex asked still whispering.
“Yeah, I think so. It’s not gonna be easy that’s for sure.” Jordan admitted.
Turning to look her friend in the eye, Alex asked, “Does your mom still have to put them on you every night?”
Pausing first, Jordan responded whispering, “…um…yeah…pretty much…yeah…”. She felt embarrassed speaking this frankly about her secret with Alex. At the same time, she also felt the urge to find a way to be honest with somebody in her life….
She thought back to the previous night when she and her mother had discussed a plan for dealing with her diapers while on the trip.
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Jordan had been lying on her Mom’s bed, legs apart with diaper under her butt and her Mom in the middle smearing ointment every which way, when the two had come to an agreement. Her siblings were already asleep in the other part of the house and the two were deep in conversation in the master bedroom. The bedwetting author would be traveling without either parent to Washington D.C. and therefore she’d he alone with her teacher and his wife.
Of course, however, she’d have to take along all her bedwetting ‘supplies’.
Jordan had begged Sally not to tell the Johns’ about her problem (or the countermeasures) as Sally had taped her up snugly and helped her sit up on the edge of the bed. Jordan had made the argument primarily to avoid having to submit to Mrs. Johns (or worse, Mr. Johns!) diapering of her every night.
That would be the most embarrassing thing ever! She had thought.
But at the same time, Jordan also was afraid of suggesting that she could take care of her own diapering needs on the trip. Over the previous two months, she had spent many afternoons at home alone wearing her diapers around the house compulsively. As a thirteen-year-old girl, she didn’t realize it was a coping mechanism for stress and anxiety, but she did understand she liked how they felt. In any case, Jordan was still terribly embarrassed of this developing habit. And one of the byproducts of this habit none-the-less was a growing competency in self-diapering.
During their conversation that Tuesday night in March, Jordan had been afraid of exposing her diapering expertise primarily because she feared not only her afternoon behaviors being discovered, but also losing her mom’s gentle care each evening. The tall slender girl simply hadn’t been able to bring herself to admit just how much emotional support her mom’s touch provided her. And she was convinced she would almost certainly lose it if she demonstrated she no longer had a physical need for it.
So Jordan’s goals had been twofold: convince Sally to allow her to diaper herself on the Washington D.C. trip without letting her realize that she would be indeed be doing so. All with the intent of maintaining (what she assumed to be) the present illusion that she really needed the continued nightly help. And all of this for the purpose of getting the emotional support from the care Jordan had just barely begun to understand it provided.
Over the course of their conversation, Jordan and her mother had come to agree that the teenager could be the one to talk with the Johns’ herself about her bedwetting and diapers. The thirteen-year-old had begged her mom for this right and Sally had finally relented not entirely sure what the high emotion was all about. Jordan’s plan meanwhile, had been to just to forgo the conversation and proceed with diapering herself and keeping everything a secret.
But thinking about the dynamics of the situation, Sally could imagine drama on the horizon. If the Johns discovered her daughter wearing diapers and Jordan hadn’t followed through (as Jordan was indeed planning not to do) they might be very upset and actually placed in an awkward situation. This would be especially so if they were actually needed somehow to care for Jordan medically! She had felt she had no choice but to discretely follow up with the Johns’ herself, regardless of Jordan’s plea. This just to be sure they were aware and comfortable with such an important, intimate, and odd medical necessity before going on a cross-country trip.
But then another thought had come to mind as Sally helped her diaper daughter lie down under her covers that Tuesday night, if Jordan is arguing with me so vehemently to be the one to ‘tell the Johns’, just so that she can then deliberately not tell them when the time comes, what’s she really trying to hide from me?
Sally thought some more. Ahhh! I see, Jordie’s hiding exactly what Jo talked about a couple weeks ago: what if she’s trying to keep me from knowing how much she likes me diapering her. What if she doesn’t wanna lose it? What if she wants me to think she still needs my help? And if she needs the Johns’ help (even though she doesn’t WANT help at all), she thinks she can continue the charade. So she’s rigged up this whole scheme…
Clever girl…Sally had thought. You are a lot like your dad child.
“Jordan,” Sally had said, “you’re not gonna tell the Johns’ about your diapers are you?”
Stunned Jordan had become stiff under Sally’s touch and responded with, “…w…uh…moo…um…well…”
“Jordie honey, it’s ok. You don’t have to lie to me. I want you to tell me the truth.”
Jordan simply hadn’t been able to say the words. Laying on her back with her head on the pillow, she had just looked at her mom’s face in horror. Like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Listen honey, I’m pretty sure you’ve been wearing your diapers during the day after school. Is that true? I’ve been noticing we’ve been going through them too fast for over a month now.” She had continued to stroke Jordan’s forearm and Jordan had remained frozen.
Jordan had looked away toward the wall. A single tear streaked down her face.
“If so, it probably means you know how to put them on by yourself pretty well. Right?” Sally had paused again and looked for an affirmative response. Receiving none, she had continued, “But for some reason, you don’t seem to want me to know that…you want me to think you still need help. So you were gonna go on the trip, lead me to think Mrs. Johns would help you, but actually your plan was to just take care of yourself…true?”
Jordan had been frozen in fear and embarrassment. She couldn’t believe this thing that she herself didn’t even understand or accept was known to others – even if it was her mom.
“Did you not want me to know this because you kind of actually…like…my help getting ready for bed Jordie?” Sally let the words hang.
Jordan had felt increasingly ashamed.
“Do you think you maybe kinda need the attention – like emotionally?” Sally paused again. “And maybe you’re scared that if you told me you could handle it yourself on the trip, I might quit the bedtime routine…?”
More tears had streaked down Jordan’s face. And when she sniffed, Sally had known for sure that Jo’s theory was correct. Her own tears had begun running down her weathered face as well.
“Jordie honey, I want you to know that Mommy will take care of you as long as you need it…,” she waited, “do you hear me? As long as you need it.”
Jordan had progressed to full blow hushed whimpers and weeping.
“You have to be honest with me though. You can’t sneak around. You can’t lie. We need to talk about these things. It’s kinda like when we talked about sex that one time with your Dad – we want you to wait to for sex until you’re married but for God’s sake, if you don’t listen to us please don’t lie! You need to be informed. You need to make smart decisions even if you don’t obey us. You need to be wise about it. There are bad consequences if you keep secrets and don’t trust me at your age.”
“….mom I’m sorry – I was scared! But I’m not having sex!” Jordan had said defensively through a curtain of snot and tears.
“I’m not saying it’s the same thing dear I’m just saying that you could get yourself mixed up and in trouble if you’re sneaking around lying to me. What do you think would’ve happened on your trip if something happened and the Johns’ found out about your bedwetting? They’d’ve been pissed at us – VERY – and rightly so for not talking with them about a medical condition. That’s common courtesy. This is all I’m saying sweetie.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“Of course not honey.”
Jordan had thought for a minute before she spoke again, “I don’t really know why I do it…I feel so ashamed…and embarrassed…but I can’t stop. It’s like I’m just drawn to it. I can’t help it. And for some reason it helps calm me down…”
Sally had replied, “I know Jordie. I’ve seen it…since the beginning.”
“What? Really?” she had asked genuinely surprised.
“Yeah of course. Mrs. Miller noticed too. We’re not ignorant just because we’re old hags.” She smiled.
Jordan had turned red faced and blotchy in embarrassment.
“Do you—“ Sally had paused, “do you…um…pee…in---“
“Yeah.” Jordan had answered shyly, not realizing that her mom was trying to ask if she had been peeing in the bed on purpose since the very beginning.
“Oh…” Sally’s brow furrowed. “So it’s all been…some kind of…hoax….all along then?”
“Wait what?” Jordan had asked back confused, “what are you talking about?”
“I was trying to ask if you – had…had been peeing the bed on purpose from the very beginning…”
“OH NO! No! No!” Jordan had rapidly corrected never having thought of such a convoluted scheme before.
“So – what were you saying ‘yes’ to then?”
“Well…uh…um…like…um…peeing…in them…like…during the day…like…on purpose…” Jordan had looked up and raised her eyebrows to her mom almost as though she was saying it as a question – looking for approval.
“Jordan!” Her mom hadn’t been able to contain her disgust with the idea. “Why?”
Tears had begun streaming once again down the thirteen-year-old’s face. “…Mom!...if you don’t….” she had sniffed a big glob of snot bubbling from her nose, “…if you don’t want me to keep secrets…you can’t react like that…,” she sobbed and snorted, “…like I’m a freak!….”
At that her face had crumpled into another twisted sorrow and pools of shameful tears.
Sally had felt guilty for her accidental gut reaction and had tried to scramble. “I’m sorry dear. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand a little. That’s all. I reacted poorly and I’m sorry. We can talk more about it later.” She patted and rubbed the teenager’s back as she cried.
“I love you so much sweetie. I love you just the way you are.” She had continued to say. “Momma’s gonna take very good care of you just as long as you need it sweetie. You’re safe right here with momma.”
How am I ever gonna bring this up again later? She thought to herself as she held her daughter and cried.
--------------------------
Jordan’s mind drifted from those events from the previous night and back into her conversation with Alex in the bathroom and her question about Jordan’s ‘need’ for her mom’s nightly help in diapering.
It was a legitimate question honestly.
What thirteen-year-old girl wouldn’t be capable of taking care of that kind of thing? Many if not most of them were bleeding once a month and had to use a diaper equivalent in one way or another to manage that!
Jordan thought to herself, Maybe I should tell her the truth? Or at least a little more of the truth? Maybe I should tell her that I actually LIKE my mom to put me in my diapers? That I don’t exactly need her help? She rapidly debated it inside her head.
The two stood there at the mirror looking at each other as if waiting for the other to make the next move. Alex could sense the gears turning in Jordan’s head and so she waited to see what was going to come out.
“Well actually Alex, at first, I couldn’t get it so they wouldn’t…like…leak?” She looked up for an affirmation and Alex nodded almost absentmindedly. “But then…well…you see…my Mom was always nagging at me to help more around the house and to help with my sisters…and…well…I kind of liked the attention…”
“Ww…W…What?” Alex said, taking a step toward the door, blocking it as Jordan tried to walk out.
“Why did you ask if you didn’t want to know Alex? I thought we were friends.” Jordan’s bite back was hard.
“S…Sorry…I…I…was…just a little…shocked…” a look of confusion crossed Alex’s face. “So are you saying…you enjoy them?”
Jordan looked embarrassed again and said, “…well…um…it’s just that…well…it’s not that bad…sometimes…”, with an almost undetectable tiny smirk.
Alex’s mind churned rapidly about her own life experiences and what she had learned from her mother. She thought hard before responding again. Finally she said, “You’re one odd duck Jordan Reynolds. I’ve gotta tell you that. But you’re also the smartest person I know and you’re my best friend – so more power to ya I guess.”
Alex offered a hug after which she pulled open the door.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 26, 2014 at 6:12 AM
Content: Chapter 30 – [Friday, March 29, 2002]
Tyler and Adrian Johns’ 1997 Volkswagen Passat Wagon was a relatively nice car for a teacher’s family. The pair squeaked by on a shoestring budget despite being employed at a private Christian school that boasted uniforms like most fancy prep schools. Unlike more prestigious ivy-league preparatory academies, BCS didn’t’ have an endowment fund, scholarships, or any kind of exclusivist enrollment policy. The school accepted any student who was a paying customer. Its bills rolled in each and every month. The Johns’ “new” car had been purchased used when they had received their job offers at BCS at the beginning of the 2000-01 school year. They were proud of the good deal they had procured to get it and did their best to keep up with this hefty maintenance bills.
As Mr. Johns, parked the maroon vehicle in the Sea-Tac Airport parking lot at 8:30pm that Friday night, Jordan felt rather jittery. Not only because she was already wearing her GoodNite for the trio’s redeye flight to Washington D.C., but because the Johns’ repair-prone VW had shaken loose a bolt under her seat and caused the whole thing to shudder the entire trip to the airport.
When Jordan and Sally had been informed about her upcoming all-night 5 ½ hour flight, Jordan immediately froze with worry, thinking about her ever-present problem. She and her mother had already agreed that she could take care of her own diapering needs on the trip in order to keep it a secret from her teachers. Quickly the two had strategized that the best course of action for the flight would be for Jordan to wear a GoodNite as she left from home and then to take one extra in her carryon bag to change part way through the flight, just in case. She would wear a skirt in order to facilitate this more easily. Luckily, the return trip was scheduled to be 2-leg jaunt during the daytime so she wouldn’t have any wetting risks.
As Jordan crawled out of the German car, she smoothed her skirt and pulled her sweater tight around her shoulders. As she looked down to ensure her GoodNite wasn’t showing, she noticed goose-pimples on her legs in the cool spring Seattle evening.
If it weren’t for this diaper, I wouldn’t be wearing this dumb skirt at all. She thought. It’s Freezing!
Glancing at the girl’s outfit as she crawled out of the car herself, Mrs. Johns thought the very same thing. Poor girl, she looks so nervous – and Cold! If it weren’t for that thing she’s wearing, she wouldn’t have to be in that drafty skirt with no leggings! BRRRR!
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Earlier that afternoon while she and Sally had both still been at their respective jobs, the mom had called her to discuss what sounded like a very grave issue. Adrian had immediately ben put on edge by Sally’s tone of voice and feared for the worst given the recent board vote and Ted’s position at Hope. She had been completely taken off guard and shocked by the actual nature of concern on Sally’s mind.
Jordan’s mom had told her about the girl’s bedwetting problems and her ongoing usage of diapers to manage the issue. She had assured the young first and second grade teacher that Jordan was comfortable with and mature about her medical needs and that she would manage it herself on the trip; she just wanted Adrian to know that it was taking place just in case Jordan got sick again, or the couple accidentally saw something odd and became confused about a diaper wearing teenager. The plan between mother and daughter had apparently been for Jordan to keep it as a secret and act as though the Johns didn’t know anything about it at all.
Of course, Sally was extremely afraid of Jordan finding out she had breached her trust and told the teachers she respected so much about her darkest secret. But the wise mother was too worried that if an emergency or awkward situation arose, the chaperones taking her kid to Washington D.C. deserved to be informed of the truth. Adrian had thought the diaper wearing (not necessarily the bedwetting) a bit odd but after swearing to Sally not to let on she knew about it, she had persuaded herself that it was probably pretty typical. That’s why they sell those products anyway isn’t it?
When she had passed on the information to her husband over dinner, he had become a little meditative and eventually developed an empathetic look on his face.
“Hmm. Poor girl. No wonder she was having such a difficult time at school! She’s been about the least confident person in school until this writing talent showed up in her life. Kids were eating her up. I bet that has something to do with it – that and her deadbeat asshole for a father!”
“Tyler!” Adrian had put her fork down and glared at her husband.
“Sorry Adrian, I’m still a little wound up. I know I need to forgive him at some point; I’m just not there yet. He hurt her so badly….Did Mrs. Reynolds say anything about how this started or what the cause is?”
“No, she just gave me the essentials Tyler. She does it most nights and she wears a diaper to protect the bed and sheets. It seemed like the kind of thing where information was on a ‘need to know’ basis.”
“I wonder why she called you? Were you not supposed to tell me? I mean I’m her teacher. I’m the primary chaperone in this case.” Mr. Johns mused some more, taking a sip of water.
“Well, she didn’t say not to tell you – only to be sure not to let Jordan know that we’re in on it. I just assumed she called me because she’s a female and so am I – we ladies talk about these things you know?”
“Hmm…not really actually. But I guess that makes sense. I still feel bad for her though. I wonder if the divorce and Ted’s terrible absence from her life has anything to do with the bedwetting? That’s a lot of trauma for such a young girl to deal with. And lots of times the oldest kids in the family take on a lot of extra stress, responsibility, and even blame when their parents break up like that. Poor girl.” He shook his head as he took another bite of spaghetti.
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The TSA mandate to take over security screening in all American airports was still in the middle of its rollout that 2002 mid spring night. SeaTac at that point was not yet individually screening checked luggage for explosives but had officers randomly selecting bags to hand search.
Jordan nervously stood in line with her teachers. She wore a dark blue JanSport nylon backpack and held her small suitcase pull handle. Watching the bustle of activity around her extremely carefully, Jordan quickly picked up on the fact that checked luggage was being searched – not behind the ticketing counter or back in some secret room, but rather out on tables in the open next to the passenger waiting lines with pointless temporary metal dividers haphazardly set up around them.
Are they gonna search my suitcase right here in front of everyone? OH GOD! Please don’t let this be happening! Jordan her eight Molicare diapers were taking up as much room in her suitcase as her clothing; one for each night plus two extra, ‘just in case’. She knew that everyone would see the secret cargo if her bag was opened despite being ‘hidden’ at the bottom of the luggage.
The GoodNite clad girl felt a cold sweat bead on her forehead and she shifted her weight on the large dark floor tiles. Adrian could tell she was anxious and guessed the source.
“It’s crazy how the new law is adding all this extra security, huh Jordan?” She said.
“Mmmm-hhmmm.” Jordan responded politely.
“They’re kinda disorganized yet. I heard the plan is that all this stuff will go behind the scenes eventually. But right now, they are only randomly selecting a few people’s bags just so this whole thing doesn’t take forever.” She looked eye to eye with (and kind of up to) the nearly six foot tall Jordan and smiled, “If they were digging through everyone’s stuff out here, we’d never make our flight!”
At that she laughed, as did Jordan (nervously). But she was still noticeably relieved.
In the end, Mr. Johns’ bag was the one chosen and Jordan’s relief became complete and palpable. That was nerve wracking! She thought.
Mr. Johns had been oblivious to the whole unspoken bout of tension; completely wrapped up in his own customary low-level ‘travel anxiety’. For as long as they had been married, Adrian had observed her husband get wigged out and stressed when they traveled. He managed every detail down to the minutest point and got flustered quite easily when things didn’t go as well as he wanted. She had grown to actually find it humorous and she had learned to just stand back and let him do his thing. Luckily for Jordan in that particular instance, Mr. Johns’ OCD travel focus had kept him from even noticing her unspoken stress.
At the security checkpoint, however, a new emotion hit Jordan. As the trio entered the line formed by nylon straps and weighted stands, the seventh grader paused to turn back and look around the inner lobby of SeaTac airport.
“Is everything ok Jordan?” Mr. Johns asked, surprisingly having noticed losing their ‘precious cargo’ for the trip.
“Oh…yeah…I just…,” she turned and looked at her teacher who was looking back at her with empathy, “…I thought…I thought I forgot something…never mind…”
The truth was that Jordan had been scanning the stone-colored lobby for her Dad. Although she had said goodbye to her mom back at the house on 22nd in Ballard, Ted had promised her he would come to the airport that night, send her off, and give her some money for the trip. While she had told herself that the main thing she wanted was the cash, the deeper unspoken (and maybe unacknowledged) truth was that she wanted her Daddy to show up for her and ‘see’ her and tell her he was proud of her for what she had accomplished. Just once.
The slender thirteen-year-old with the goose-pimpled legs and a hidden pull-up under her skirt let her eyes pass over the space one last time. No Dad. She couldn’t help but feel pangs of sadness – not just for that night – but for everything.
Is it too much – for a girl to want her Dad to care about her life? For a Dad to tell her she’s smart and pretty and talented? Why can’t I have just that small thing? Am I being selfish? Lots of other girls get to have that. Why can’t I? She thought to herself.
Allowing her time to think, Mr. Johns finally said, “Ok well this is the line for security, do you want us to go on ahead?”
“Oh…no…I’m coming.” She said as she turned to follow.
Just as the TSA had only been randomly screening checked bags at the check in counter, by that time in March of 2002 they were still only randomly screening shoes at the security checkpoints. Metal detectors were set up for passengers to walk through as well as x-ray machines for their hand-luggage to pass through. Jordan couldn’t help but think about the extra GoodNite in the bottom of her backpack and whether or not this could be the moment when her favorite teacher found out about her darkest secret.
As she approached the x-ray belt she had observed enough to know to put her backpack on it. It disappeared into the open mouth of the machine. Stepping toward the metal detector, the agent motioned for Jordan to walk through. The Johns’ having already cleared that step were already picking up their bags from the x-ray machine and heading to the far side of the security to wait for their responsible party.
The metal detector erupted in beeping.
“Please step back through miss.” The TSA agent said simply.
Jordan felt her face flush in worry and she backed up, looking to see where her teachers were.
“Be sure you’ve taken all the metal out of your pockets miss. Are you wearing a belt? A watch? Do you have metal on your shoes?”
Jordan looked around herself rapidly trying to detect the source of the alarm. “I…I…I dunno…I don’t think so…” She was flustered and worried about her pull-up potentially being found out. She saw her backpack lying at the end of the x-ray scanner table and finally spotted the Johns out past security.
“Ok walk through one more time.” He said again.
Predictably, the machine lit up like a cheap slot machine.
“Sorry miss but we’re gonna have to screen you individually. Wait over there.” He pointed to a spot enclosed in glass near the scanner tray and called on his radio for a female ‘checker’.
With in a minute, a short overweight Hispanic woman bustled toward Jordan holding what looked like a children’s punishment paddle. Jordan soon figured out it was actually a handheld metal detection device.
“Hold out your hands Miss.” The rotund big-breasted woman barked.
Jordan obeyed holding her hands out to her sides, parallel to the ground. The woman began rapidly waving the device close to her body without touching. When it came to the front of Jordan’s waistline, the paddle beeped.
“You wearing a belt honey?” She asked.
“N…N…No. It’s a….s….skirt.” Jordan replied feeling afraid. She looked down and took a step back.
“Don’t move miss.” The woman waived the wand over Jordan’s bellybutton again and once more it sounded. “Please pull up the front of your shirt and show me your waistband miss.”
“W…wh…what?”
“Please show me your waistband.” The woman glared at her – directly in the face.
Jordan’s eyes skittered around the security area, looking for someone to save her from the treatment. She saw the Johns’ looking at her helplessly and she stared back in fear. She also saw the armed military personnel in the terminal – as if waiting specifically for her. The woman screening her spoke quietly into her radio.
“Is that a problem miss?” The TSA agent asked looking a little more agitated. “What do you have in your waistband?” She asked now more firmly taking a step back.
Ever since 9/11 and the infamous shoe-bomber the subsequent December, all security personnel were incredibly jumpy and on edge about potential threats. Even a skinny six foot seventh grade girl could appear to be a potential mark as a terrorist.
Terrified now, Jordan reached her hands to her shirt and pulled it up.
“Slowly ma’am.” The agent said, now taking on some of the attitude of a low-budget TV cop, raising her hand.
Almost shaking, Jordan exposed the top of her skirt waistband, which covered her bellybutton and fully obscured her volleyball shorts and GoodNite underneath. A large metal magnetic button held the skirt closed just above its metal zipper, however it was the kind sewn into the fabric of the garment, hidden from sight.
Seeing no bulge or obvious weapon, the TSA agent calmed down slightly and waived her wand once again over the front of the waistband. It beeped.
“Roll down the front of your skirt.”
Jordan obeyed slowly without protesting. Almost frozen with fear. She carefully folded down the top two inches of the waistband exposing the black polyester of the top of her volleyball shorts; just barely poking above that covering could be glimpsed her white GoodNite under pant.
The guard reached out and scanned the black fabric. No beep. She scanned the folded down waistband. It beeped again.
“Is there a button in there? How does your skirt close?”
A tear now streaking down her face now, Jordan said, “Yeah, its’ magnetic.”
The woman reached forward and roughly grabbed at the thirteen-year-old’s waistband. Satisfied and without an apology of any kind she barked, “Ok you can go,” pointing to x-ray baggage tray.
As she stepped toward the tray, she glanced up toward the Johns and it appeared that the two had moved over to the adjacent wall in the open terminal. They both were still looking her way, but appeared less agitated as they waited for she, their responsibility.
As Jordan reached for her backpack, little did she know that she was in for round two of her first TSA experience.
“Ma’am, is this your bag?” A tall thin mustached TSA agent asked her reaching for it at the same time.
“Um…yes…” she said.
Oh no. What could it be now? She thought to herself.
“We need to run it through the machine one more time.”
“Oh…Ok.”
The man had a tightly fitting uniform with pants that were too short and as he walked Jordan’s backpack to the entrance of the x-ray machine, she could see his white socks.
He quickly returned to wait at his original post, staring at the chute for her bag to emerge. When it did, he grabbed it and looked back to another officer whom Jordan couldn’t see – she assumed he or she was operating the machine.
“Ma’am I’m going to need to check your bag by hand. The machine is seeing something abnormal.”
Jordan’s face flushed once again and she once again felt a cold sweat envelop her. “...uuuuuummm….”. Was all she managed to get out.
“Ma’am is there a problem?”
“u….uh….ummmm….no….it….it’s fine….” She tried to recover; attempting to not rouse any more terrorist suspicions.
The mustachioed man opened the top zipper to the main compartment and pulled open her bag widely. On top was an extra rather bulky hoodie sweater for the plane ride – he removed it and set it aside. He then, with one hand holding the back of the pack near the loop, used his opposite hand to push and pull items aside in the backpack, carefully examining all the contents. She was sure he had seen her extra GoodNite at the bottom. Especially after at one point he paused for what seemed like an unnecessarily long time before continuing with his task. But without comment, he eventually put the sweatshirt back in the main pocket and then opened the front pocket.
Her first impulse was to reach out and stop him but she knew that an action such as that would draw increased suspicion. Although her kids diaper in the bag was the most embarrassing item to be found, it certainly wasn’t the only one a thirteen-year-old girl would want to keep hidden. She knew she had a stash of menstrual pads and feminine wipes as well as a tube of desitin crowded in that pocket which he immediately found. As he spread those items out on the table, still looking hard seemingly for something. Jordan felt mortified that the whole world had eyes directly on her.
Finally, the TSA agent’s rifling through the bag came to a close as he bent up from the waist holding a small chrome object: fingernail clippers.
“Young lady, just what do you think you’ve got here?” he asked with not an ounce of jest in his voice.
“Wh….what?” she asked taken aback, confused, and still embarrassed. Her pads were still laying out in full view of any passenger walking past with the privilege of passing through security without the ‘white glove treatment’
“These items have been banned by the Transportation Security Administration. Are you trying to sneak this on the plane?”
Is this guy for real? She thought feeling a little more relieved that it wasn’t her diaper laying out on the counter and trying not to laugh. I mean seriously! They’re fingernail clippers!
“Well…I…I didn’t know those were illegal on planes…sir…” she said rather meekly.
“Well they are not allowed. Ok? I’m confiscating it. You can go.” He roughly shoved her supplies back in the bag and zipped it closed, holding tightly to her clippers.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Jordan walked toward her chaperones unsteady and knocked off balance before her coming night.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jun 29, 2014 at 8:05 AM
Content: Chapter 31 – [March 29-30]
The United Airlines flight had been long. The 10:15pm departure scheduled the trio for their arrival at Dulles International Airport at about 6:45am Eastern Standard Time. Somewhere in between the two cities in a haze of sleepiness, Jordan had awoken with a start in the middle of a vivid nightmare of that very flight going down in a ball of flames. Her heart had been beating a million miles a second.
When the teenage girl had gasped, it had startled Mrs. Johns sitting next to her in the middle seat as well as the young businessman sitting across the aisle from them. She looked concerned. He looked annoyed.
“Are you ok sweetie?” Mrs. Johns had whispered doing all she could to not look down towards Jordan’s skirt and GoodNite underneath (which would’ve almost certainly given away her hidden knowledge of the girl’s medical condition).
Jordan had looked wide-eyed and confused for a moment before gathering her bearings and wits. Immediately she thought she had felt cold wetness on the backs of her legs and feared the worst.
OH NO!! I’ve leaked! She had panicked inwardly trying to think of a contingency plan. Although the GoodNite clad girl had brought an extra juvenile incontinence brief for the flight, she had not packed an extra set of pants or skirt.
“Jordan? You alright?” Mrs. Johns asked again shifting in her seat. While doing so, she discretely glanced down and noticed nothing unusual.
Still trying to think of something to say, Jordan had finally blurted out, “…Um…oh…I…uh…was just having a nightmare… but uh….I uh…think I may have…uh…started my…you know…time of the month…”
“Oh dear.” Said Mrs. Johns genuinely concerned. “Do you have your…supplies?”
“I…in my backpack…” Jordan had replied quickly before giving a nervous smile and then slinking up from her chair trying to keep her backside away from the teacher.
It had been very dark in the plan and the seat covers were dark blue as well -- any wetness would have been impossibly to see by anyone. Although the young teacher had been curious about the actual state of the girl’s condition, she wasn’t curious enough to test the seat with her bear hand to decipher if it had been tainted with either urine or blood.
Jordan had assumed that her plan, hatched as it had been coming out of her mouth, was a brilliant move – especially when she discovered in the bathroom that she had not only wet her GoodNite a little, but had also in fact, just barely begun her period.
This’ll probably be the only time in my whole life that getting my period will be a relief!
Another relief had been that her skirt was not at all wet. The feeling of cold apparently had just been the chill of the air conditioner blowing on the backs of her bare legs. She had praised her good luck as she rifled through her backpack for the new GoodNite at the bottom.
But the more she dug, the less she discovered. Where is it? Where’s my extra one? This can’t be happening! No. No. No. NO!
More frantically, Jordan had continued to paw through her small bag to no avail. There had been no second GoodNite to be found.
Knowing the flight was still long from over, and also knowing that she didn’t have any panties in the bag, Jordan had felt she had no choice but to continue to make use of the soiled GoodNite and volleyball shorts she had been wearing over it. She decided to put one of her pads in the soiled disposable pant just to make it feel a little fresher and try to add some absorbency.
And after wiping herself clean with dampened paper towels, she had pulled the dirty GoodNite back up and into place, followed by her stretchy shorts. It wasn’t terrible. But it certainly didn’t feel clean.
I sure hope this holds up; I wonder what’ll happen if I accidently wet again? And I sure hope I’ll be able to find a place to change as soon as we get to Washington D.C.
Nervously, the thirteen year old had made her way back to her chair hoping she wouldn’t smell and hoping even more she wouldn’t be discovered. Her three surrounding seatmates had been sound asleep as she arrived back but she didn’t sleep a wink for the remainder of the flight.
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Ted was pacing the full length of the couple’s Belltown apartment, oxford dress shoes still on his feet from work, clicking on the hardwood floors. His tie had long been loosened and his sleeves rolled up. The homeless shelter CEO looked as though he was in the middle of a businessman death-match.
It was actually a battle for his own soul.
“I just don’t understand why this is such a big deal to you Ted. She’s probably not even gonna remember it when she gets older. I mean – kids forget shit from their childhoods all the time.”
“Em,” (he had graduated to the nickname for Melissa), “it would be a HUGE deal to her if she ever found out – and she’s thirteen years old! Babies might forget some details from their pasts but not teenagers for God’s sake!”
And she sure as shit isn’t gonna forget the fact that I stood her up tonight at the airport. He thought to himself with the all too familiar sense of regret. It had become something like a set of fuzzy dice hanging in his rearview mirror of life; always aware that it was there, but almost numb to its persistent effects. His guilt had been a continual companion for the past 2 or 3 years.
The couple had been arguing ever since they left the restaurant after work and at this point, it was 10pm, far too late for Ted to make a frantic run at SeaTac to fulfill his promise to Jordan.
“I mean, what do we stand to gain by throwing Sally under the bus like you’re suggesting? What do we stand to gain by dragging Jordan and her medical problems into all this? What do we get?”
Ever since the board vote (and Tyler Johns’ bewildering and inexplicable change of heart that had turned the tide), Ted had been thrown into a trough of self-evaluation and self-critique. In fact, he had found himself strangely grateful for what he understood to be the genuine act of compassion on Mr. Johns’ part. Nothing else (from Ted’s perspective) could possibly explain such a switch. The teacher had gone from being absolutely outraged about his affair (and building a strong coalition to oust him), to being grace-oriented, supportive, and big-picture in his leadership. Mr. Johns had even made a speech about how the church needs to model letting people make mistakes and especially in organizations like Hope Seattle, which serves people everyday who have made mistakes. The whole experience had been surreal for Ted, he could hardly wrap his mind around it.
Melissa did not have the same reaction to the vote. Hers was, of course, one better described as ‘entitlement’; on the lines of, “they had no right to even hold a vote in the first place, Ted.”
“Do you have any idea how much they’re gonna charge us for child support? It’ll be for the next 20 years or more!” She responded, pulling on her hair in astonishment.
“Melissa. Child support is part of the equation no matter what. I want to support my kids. But if the court gets convinced that Sally’s a bad mother – and I’m not sure that would even happen – we would also stand to end up with full custody of the girls. For God’s sake Melissa – you don’t want that! We don’t want that!” He paused to let it sink in. “Part of what brought us together is the lack of time I’ve had for my family. I’ve felt so conflicted over the last couple years because of the pull they’ve had against my career with Hope. Why would I want to divorce my wife just so I could steal the kids away and continue that stress? It makes no sense…”
“UM”, she took on a valley girl tone and glared at him, “BECAUSE IT’S ME YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH and not that bland, granola eating, numbers pushing, wet blanket of a woman.”
Ted felt more than a little annoyed by Melissa’s comment and even a little unnerved. It brought conflict up in his mind that he hadn’t been able to face regarding Melissa’s immaturity and egotism. Sally could be a drag from time to time, but she wasn’t so easily carried away by this kind of adolescent selfishness.
“Look Em. I do love you. But I think you’re allowing your anger to drive your decisions here. You need to cool off. Having three girls in our house isn’t how we planned this thing. How’re we supposed to travel? How’re we supposed to serve all over the world? There’s no reason to throw that away over proving a point.”
Melissa sunk back into the leather couch and sulked.
“I just don’t think I can do it Em, it’s just not right. I want to support my girls even if I’m not gonna be there in person.” He thought for a moment. “ESPECIALLY If I’m not gonna be there in person.”
“Wha’d’ya mean it’s not right?! Since when do you care about what’s right?” she barked and then immediately caught herself; yet continuing to stare at Ted.
“Melissa! What the hell?!”
“You need to take back your balls Ted! This is bullshit! That woman has got ahold of yours so tight that you can’t even make a decision for yourself!”
Ted thought for a moment. Well you’re right about one thing Melissa. Someone’s got my balls – but I’m not sure it’s Sally.
“I’m not telling the lawyer about this. I don’t want CPS or any crazy investigation taking place. I don’t want unreasonable suspicions raised. Sally putting Jordan in diapers is no big deal. She’s a damn-near perfect mother.” He said firmly. “I’m not pushing for custody. Sally is a good mother. We’re going to pay the child support. I want to be a better dad. If you can’t handle that, then….”
He shook his head and walked out of the apartment.
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Doing her best to remain awake while cruising along at 30,000 feet, the thirteen-year-old bedwetting (and award winning) author began thinking about her writing over the past several months. Back in the summer, when she had first began work on the short story that had earned her the spot on the airplane, writing had been her primary coping mechanism for dealing with the stress of life and home.
She reflected back on how she used to bar herself in her room and drown out her parents’ fighting with music while drumming away on her keyboard for hours on end; mercilessly writing and re-writing dialogue to get the language perfect. It had been therapeutic for the young girl. The boy and his dad in her story were able to say things to each other that she herself felt unable to say to people in her own life. The teen found she could express herself in real situations through the words on the flickering monitor screen.
She recalled how, when first faced with the suggestion by Mr. Johns of entering writing competitions, she had dismissed it as fanciful. She had reasoned to herself that the things she was putting down digitally were only for her own enjoyment and emotional health – not for others to consume.
Jordan hadn’t noticed it as she had experienced it – but looking back now, it was a little clearer. As her bedwetting had entered her life, so had her writing departed (as a tool for coping anyways). At the time, it had seemed like a whim to enter the story in the competition, but now – Jordan felt as though she knew intuitively that diapers and her mother’s gentle care were going to take the place of the former creative outlet. It hadn’t been abrupt – and clearly she was still writing – but it had clearly happened.
Writing for her now, was much less emotionally driven; much less of a necessity and more of a joy to be savored instead of a vice to fall into. Diapers on the other hand were something she felt as though she was beginning to need in some ways – something akin to what her writing had been through the summer. On some days, she could hardly wait for bedtime because the stress inside her built up so high and the only thing she knew that could release it was her Mom’s sweet caress and voice – and the touch of plastic on her body.
What if I had never started wetting the bed? She wondered to herself in the dark. Would I even be here right now? Would it even be possible for me to have won this competition if it weren’t for my diapers? Could I have even shared my writing had I not learned to cope in this new way?
She continued to feel questions circle in her mind. I wonder if this shift will end up making me a better writer than I would’ve been before? All the greats had secret habits and weird stuff in their lives. Maybe I’ll become a strange eccentric hermit with a golden touch with words?
How weird is my own story as it unfolds… She thought, still in the dark.
############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 2, 2014 at 10:30 PM
Content: Chapter 32 – [March 30, 2002]
When Jordan and her entourage arrived in Washington D.C. on Saturday morning, she was exhausted. Although the clock said it was almost 8am as they had collected their checked luggage, the teenage girl’s body felt like it was 2am.
When they were still in the terminal, she and Mrs. Johns had peeled away from Mr. Johns and gone into the bathroom for a pit stop. Although Jordan went into a stall and sat down, she was far too scared and embarrassed to remove her GoodNite for fear of being heard or seen. Besides, she didn’t know how she could dispose of it without being noticed in the bathroom after it was off – the stall had only a little tiny bin attached to the wall for the smallest of feminine care items, not a full blown baby diaper disposal center.
Having started her period in earnest also complicated things. She also didn’t know how she could even attach a menstrual pad to just her bare volleyball shorts had she been left only wearing those without the GoodNite. Reluctantly, she had carefully changed her pad and put the soiled disposable pant back on for several more hours.
This can’t turn out well, Jordan thought standing up to exit the stall.
Just a short while after picking up their bags off the claim turnstile, the trio pulled into their hotel entryway in a cab. 16 hours would have gone by before Jordan was able to change out of her soiled garment, get a shower, and slip into fresh clothing.
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The rest of the Saturday and that evening, Jordan and her teachers had laid low in their downtown hotel at the pool and had walked around near the Washington Mall checking out some of the sights that could be seen nearby on foot.
Sunday was the primary day for which they had come.
Unfortunately for Jordan, because it was only the three of them, she was forced to share a room for supervision sake (although she did get her own queen bed to herself). As she and her mom had strategized (and unbeknownst to her, the Johns gave plenty of space to accommodate), Jordan snuck a diaper and extra volleyball shorts into the bathroom to change before bed.
The small downtown hotel room didn’t have a large bathroom and there clearly wasn’t enough room to lie down. What am I gonna do?! She fretted to herself with the door locked and the fan running.
Thinking on her feet, Jordan pulled off her jeans from the afternoon sightseeing as well as her panties. She then unwrapped her diaper carefully. The nervous but focused girl stretched it between her legs and tried to pull it tightly around one leg but she just couldn’t figure out where to tape it and be sure to have it centered.
An idea that seemed ingenious to her at the time then struck. What if I hold the diaper up against my butt by holding it between me and the door? You’re so smart! She praised herself.
Ensuring the door was locked and tightly closed once again, this time she pinned the diaper between her rear end and the door, centering it on her body. She then pulled it up between her legs without applying her usual rash cream (for fear of the odor) and proceeded to snugly tape it into place. Doing it this way appeared to produce a more secure fit than even doing it lying down.
This might come in handy some other time! She thought.
Her volleyball shorts followed the diaper and then her fleece pajama pants and t-shirt top. As she paced back and forth in the bathroom, she certainly couldn’t hear its rustle over the din of the fan; but with the light and fan turned off and the girl walking out the door, the quiet crinkle was without a doubt present if a person was listening for it.
I sure hope they are not paying attention to me. She thought.
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[March 31, 2002]
As far as she could tell, the teacher couple was none the wiser and no comments or questions were ever made.
The next day, Jordan had been given the tour of the WAMU NPR facility on the north side of the city after eating a nice breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant. The program manager for NPR gave the seventh-grader a trophy for her award and a golden cd framed in a plaque that contained the recording of her story. Jordan had thought it was cool but also felt somehow unimpressed by the effort. Next, she had finally been given the chance to meet the actress Natalie Portman (who had turned out to be disappointingly boring and quiet) for lunch. The whole visit had taken no more than 2 hours and Jordan couldn’t help but feel a little ripped off.
That’s it? That’s what I get for being a big shot finalist?! She had thought as they left the fancy restaurant. It had been the first time in her life where she had had the undeniable experience of feeling used for someone else’s marketing scheme.
Who’s really the winner here? She had wondered to herself.
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[April Fools Day, 2002]
By Sunday night, however, things grew a little concerning for the seventh-grade-author. As had happened back in mid-January, Jordan felt a tinge of pain when she peed before bed, but she felt too embarrassed to tell Mrs. Johns and certainly too shrewd to tell her mother on the phone (who would’ve almost certainly turned around and told Mrs. Johns herself).
Monday morning, Jordan’s diaper was (no surprise) wet, but she didn’t feel normal. At all. When she changed into her daytime clothes and tried to pee, all that came out were little driblets – and it stung! It was at that point that she knew she was getting a similar illness or infection to that which had landed her in the hospital earlier that year.
Sitting on the toilet Monday morning, her heart sank and her blood ran cold. It must’ve been all that time I spent in my GoodNite during the flight. I should’ve never worn it that long. But what was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a change! The girl scolded herself.
Coming up with the probable cause didn’t help Jordan’s lack of interest in asking for assistance since in her mind, wearing around wet diapers seemed to be the cause of all UTIs. (For a girl of thirteen, sexual education had been minimal having been raised in an evangelical parochial school. The primary lesson had been: don’t touch boys until you’re married or else you’ll get pregnant. Her mom had filled in a few details, but certainly not enough for her to know much about the care and keeping of a female urethra or the variety of ways that it can contract an infection.) So even the worsening symptoms of her impending UTI kept Jordan far too embarrassed to bring anything up with Mrs. Johns, let alone Mr. Johns!
Jordan’s plan that Monday, as the three were supposed to go to the Smithsonian museum of American History and some other sights on the National Mall, was to use some of the home remedies her mother had tried before in January: drinking lots of water and trying to find cranberry juice if she could find it.
Of course, a seventh-grader willingly downing a half a liter of straight cranberry juice at lunch like it is nothing seemed more than a little suspicious to Mrs. Johns. When she asked Jordan about it on a bathroom trip in the American History Museum, the girl had quickly dismissed it as nothing.
“Oh I like cranberry juice A LOT. It’s my favorite.” Jordan had smiled.
I’m sure it is young lady. I’m sure it is. Mrs. Johns had thought.
Jordan’s symptoms worsened throughout the day despite her efforts and she found herself (as before) with increasing frequency and borderline urgency. By the end of the day, she was having a difficult time passing urine once she got to the toilet and she was beginning to feel the familiar sense of nausea and general “ickiness” she remembered from before. As she got ready for bed that Monday night, both of the Johns’ couldn’t help but notice her sluggish behavior and lack of pep. She hadn’t hardly talked since dinner and seemed overly quiet and serious.
“Are you sure you’re ok sweetie?” Mrs. Johns asked as Jordan crawled into bed diaper clad (but not noticeably to the second grade teacher who was actually looking for it).
“Yeah Jordan, you don’t look so good.” Mr. Johns chimed in, trying to be supportive.
“Oh me?” The girl tried to sound chipper and sat up in bed on her elbows. She had just tried to pee in the bathroom once more and couldn’t hardly any out but a few burning, stinging, drops. She was beginning to feel chills. “Yeah I feel fine. Just tired is all.” She faked a yawn and smiled. “Thanks again for such a great day and such a great trip Mr. and Mrs. Johns. It’s been really fun.”
“Yeah. Sure Jordan. Of course.” Mr. Johns said seeing right through her feigned health charade.
Shortly after, both Adrian and Tyler found themselves crammed into the small hotel bathroom strategizing in agonizingly soft whispers.
“She’s got a UTI Tyler I’m sure of it. And if we don’t get her seen or treated, it’s gonna get worse. It’s possible that it already has.” Adrian sounded serious.
“But we don’t know dear and she keeps insisting that she’s fine. I mean, she talked to her mom…what? Three times today? It seems like if she was really suffering from something, she would’ve at least mentioned it to her and if Sally was genuinely worried, she would’ve called us immediately about it.” Tyler reasoned in hushed tones.
“I’m just not so sure. This girl’s a smart one. And she’d probably do just about anything to make sure her favorite teacher doesn’t find out she wears diapers – even if that means risking a bad infection by not asking for help.” Adrian’s logic made sense as well.
“Hmmm. You’re probably right. But I still just don’t feel right about cutting past her privacy like that and insisting that we take her in after she keeps insisting that she’s fine. What if we wait until morning and then ask her to call her mom if she seems noticeably worse? I mean, she’s obviously not on death’s door or anything right this moment.”
Adrian thought for a moment before she agreed. She’s not fooling anyone.
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[April 3, 2002]
After another day of similar behavior but obviously deteriorating physical conditions while touring other sights in the Washington D.C. area, Jordan’s illness was only getting worse.
On Wednesday morning, the thirteen-year-old author demonstrated, by her physical state, that she clearly had not been fooling anyone the days prior. Just as she had been back in January, Jordan was sluggish, sweaty, hot, and a little delirious. Mrs. Johns could tell that she was not at all her normal self and at 8am, she still hadn’t budged a muscle from her spot in bed (which was unusual given that the girl had been up before 6 presumably changing her diaper in the bathroom the other mornings of their trip).
Attempting to rouse her to assess her condition more fully, Mrs. Johns spoke Jordan’s name in increasing volume increments, eventually shaking the bed a little.
“Jordan are you alright dear? Are you awake? Do you know where you are!?”
All that came out of the seventh-grader was a stream of incoherent mumbles and moans.
This girl is in rough shape! We should’ve acted sooner. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t believe we didn’t call Sally last night or yesterday afternoon. This could’ve been prevented. Mrs. Johns felt ashamed.
“Tyler? You need to get her mother on the phone right now. We’re going to the hospital.”
That announcement got his attention and he poked his head out of the bathroom door from where he had been putting the finishing touches on his outfit for the day.
“Wait. What? Hospital? Are you sure Adrian? Isn’t that a little hasty?” He asked taking a step back into the hotel room.
“Tyler. Just listen to me. She’s got a bad infection and a fever. It could even spread in her body if we don’t get her seen. She needs to get on antibiotics and she might need an IV. This is becoming serious ok? We need to get going now. And we need to call her mom.” She sounded intense and looked straight at him in hushed whispers.
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Mrs. Johns dialed while Mr. Johns tried to rouse the bleary girl from her bacteria induced stupor.
“Mr. Reynolds? I’m sorry it’s so early. This is Adrian Johns. We have a bit of a situation here…”
Sally was surprisingly calm. She absorbed the information Mrs. Johns gave her and quickly came to the identical conclusion. “You’re right Mrs. Johns, she needs to get to the hospital. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Back in January she had what sounds like the same thing. It’s a byproduct of wearing wet diapers, keeping clean, etc. You understand….So have you been able to wake her? Are you heading out yet?”
Mrs. Johns had almost been in a trance, thinking for the first time about the myriad of health implications the diapers and bedwetting must bring into the poor girl’s life. “Oh yes, absolutely. We were planning on going to the hospital or some kind of clinic right away. We don’t have a rental car and we’ve been taking cabs everywhere; I hope we don’t’ end up having to call an ambulance.”
Sally thought of her financial situation, “Well I can imagine if she’s as zoned out as she was before, a cab might be a challenge. But if you can pull it off, my bank account would appreciate it. We are still on Ted’s insurance though so we’ll survive if you have to call.”
“Ok Mrs. Reynolds, I will call you when I have an update. You have my cell.”
“Thanks Mrs. Johns….and sorry about this.”
“Oh you don’t worry about a thing Mrs. Reynolds, your daughter is a diamond in the rough. It’s been our pleasure. We’re happy to look after her.” She replied.
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In the meantime, Mr. Johns had self-consciously done his best to revive Jordan from her delirium to no avail. Her only response had been a curious (but concerning) request for more cheese on her spaghetti.
“Jordan you’re really sick and we need to get you to a doctor.” He pleaded again shaking her shoulder as Mrs. Johns walked back into the room.
“Tyler! You don’t have her up yet?”
He looked up at his wife, bewildered and overly conscious of his middle-aged maleness and his student’s thirteen-year-old girl-ness. “She’s totally out of it Adrian. She can’t even sit up.”
Glaring at him in annoyance, she walked past him to the girl’s bedside. “JORDAN! You need to get up! You’re sick! You need to get up! JORDAN!” She spoke very loudly, almost yelling, and shook the thirteen-year-old by the shoulders.
Jordan felt hot to the touch and damp. She didn’t respond with much more than mumbles. The decisive teacher thrust the cell phone at her husband, ”Call a cab Tyler. OK?”
Tyler quickly did as instructed while Adrian barked additional orders for a glass of water and Jordan’s shoes and jacket. As the English teacher rummaged through his student’s stuff, inevitably coming across the stack of purple adult diapers.
Wow! She wears those? Brave thing! Don’t they make pull-ups for teens or something? He thought as he snatched her jacket from the bag. She’s gonna know we know now – and she’s gonna be embarrassed. This’ll be hard. He frowned.
When he got back to the bedside, Adrian had Jordan siting up and she looked a little more awake.
“Do you know where you are Jordan? Do you hurt? Are you in pain?” his wife was asking.
The tall, adult-sized teenager was gently nodding.
Both teachers could smell the strong scent of urine. It was obvious that she was wet and that something was wrong with her pee. Adrian leaned over and looked back behind her and saw the primary source of the odor entering the air: the bed and clothing were soaking wet.
“Jordan you’re all wet dear. We need to get you into some dry clothes before we go to the hospital ok? I’m gonna help you.”
Without hesitation, Adrian wrapped her arm around the girls back and under her armpit and lifted. “Can you stand up Jordan?” very slowly, the thirteen-year-old obeyed, too feverish to be embarrassed. The two shuffled toward the bathroom and toilet. Tyler, horribly self conscious and uncomfortable with what was happening in front of him, gazed down at the floor and remained in place standing by the bed.
“Tyler! I need help here. Will you just relax with the teacher-student accusation fear routine? This is a medical necessity. She’s really sick and she needs both of our help. I need a fresh set of clothes for her now too please.”
Without saying anything, he responded in action – back at her suitcase randomly picking out what seemed like an outfit. He then waited nervously outside the bathroom door with his eyes carefully averted form the scene for the next round of instructions.
Inside the bathroom, Adrian had quickly peeled off the girl’s shirt and wiped her down with a damp cloth and then to thrown a t-shirt over her head. The second grade teacher had then pulled at the waistband of Jordan’s soaked pajama pants as well as the tight polyester shorts underneath removing both at once. The odor was strong.
When Adrian had removed Jordan’s diaper, she could see in the pad tinges of brown and red, which she assumed to be the vestiges of Jordan’s period although she wondered if it could be blood in her urine. Almost like an infant, dribbles of urine started running down the girl’s bare legs and onto the tiled floor. Adrian gently pushed her back onto the toilet stool. As had been the case over the previous couple of days (and not fully known but suspected by Mrs. Johns), Jordan produced virtually nothing sitting on the toilet. But what did come out included ribbons of red.
“Get Mrs. Reynolds on the phone again Tyler!” she yelled from the bathroom, feeling a little more frantic. When the teacher got her up again, the wetness simply appeared to continue in tiny bits down her legs. Jordan was almost completely unable (or unwilling) to help.
Once on the phone with the girl’s mother, Tyler stood outside the bathroom door discretely conveying information back and forth between she and his wife. The instructions she was giving were to put Jordan in another diaper; that this was quite normal; and that she needed to get to the Emergency Room as soon as possible, even if they had to take an ambulance.
Before he knew it, Adrian was hobbling the ailing and partially naked girl back out of the bathroom and laying her back on the bed. “Gimme a diaper Tyler.”
A wet spot was already forming under the girl’s butt and Tyler already had the garment in hand, passing it to his wife while still awkwardly keeping his eyes aimed away, back toward the hotel room door. The job was done in just a few seconds despite Mrs. Johns’ lack of experience and discomfort. After working Jordan into a clean set of pajama pants, socks, shoes, and her jacket, they were off.
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Twelve hours later, the trio found themselves set up in a hospital room. Other than getting admitted for the night (and of course the absence of the extra-creepy-friendly Medical Assistant at the front desk), it had pretty much gone identically to the previous visit in January (complete with rudeness from the nursing staff, antibiotics, pain relievers, and an IV line.)
When Jordan finally began to “come to” after her fever had subsided and the effects of the first bout of medication had worn off, she started to realize some of what must’ve happened that morning at the hotel room. She started feeling around in her bed without opening her eyes and between her legs she quickly appreciated tubing unlike that which she had experienced on her previous hospital visit.
Well apparently I’m not wearing my diaper anymore; and I know I had one on last night. So they probably know everything now… Her heart sunk, not knowing the full extent of what would’ve been her absolute mortification if she’d been conscious.
What am I gonna say to Mr. Johns? What’s he gonna say to me? This is gonna be so awkward!
“Good evening sweetie.” Mrs. Johns said noticing Jordan’s eyes opening. She and her husband both had been sitting in the room all day, just out of Jordan’s sight up behind her right shoulder in the corner.
“Yeah good evening – how’re you feeling?” Mr. Johns chimed in.
“…um…well…uh…ok…I guess…I’m here…in the hospital.” She gave an awkward smile and raised her eyebrows as if to say, you got me!
“Well you look a lot better Jordan. I’ll tell you that. When we left the hotel, you were totally out of it. We were really worried Jordan,” Mrs. Johns said, then trying to think of a way to cover for Sally, “…when we found you had,…um…wet the bed…we called your mom to ask her what to do. We had been concerned with how often you had been going to the bathroom and you seemed like you were feeling sick, but you kept saying you were ok…so up until we found you this morning so sick and lethargic, we hadn’t pushed anything.”
Jordan felt embarrassed but also somehow relieved that she hadn’t been forced to be conscious through that revelation. She started to think about how much she respected Mr. Johns and how he knowing about how actually UN-grown up she really was would change the way he thought of her. Her feelings straddling two worlds came all the more into focus as she lie in her hospital bed, having arrived in a diaper, now with a catheter and wires running in and out of her, and in the company of her English teacher who had just helped her win a writing competition!
A solitary tear streamed down her cheek and her chin began to quiver.
“Oh Jordan, there’s no need to cry sweetie.” Mrs. Johns said as she noticed the girl’s distress.
No sooner did the words leave Mrs. Johns mouth than did the feelings of self-pity build up in the seventh-grader’s heart. She began to sob; and then she looked pitiful.
Mr. Johns spoke up as his wife had scooted her chair closer to the bed and began stroking Jordan’s arm, “Jordan, I want you to know that you’re the most remarkable student I’ve ever taught in so many ways. And the fact that you’ve suffered from this medical condition that I can imagine might be really embarrassing for a lot of kids makes me respect you all the more.”
Jordan sniffed and looked up a little at her teacher who was now looking down at her from the bedside.
“Really Jordan, I mean it. Most kids with this struggle (and there are a lot of them you do know that right?) just clam up and never talk to anyone and do terrible in school and sink back into a corner. You’ve become a star despite it. And really, your writing is really amazing. You could go somewhere with it girl. Don’t get down on yourself.” He spoke honestly and from his heart.
“Really?” she quietly asked through snot and tears. “So you’re saying you don’t think less of me? You don’t think I’m like some sort of…of…bab---” her own crying cut her off once again.
“Oh Jordan honey,” now Mr. Johns couldn’t help but place his hand on Jordan’s arm next to his wife’s as he squatted down to her bed level, “absolutely not. You’re an impressive and mature young woman who happens to have a medical problem and who happens to deal with it discretely in very mature ways.”
Jordan couldn’t help but think to herself, but if you only knew the full truth of it Mr. Johns, you wouldn’t be saying that. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t think I was a hero or some courageous conqueror of life’s challenges – you’d think I was a freak.
She nodded meekly and her crying slowed.
“So what did my mom tell you – about the…d...d…diap…ers…?”
Mrs. Johns jumped in sounding cheery but not terribly over-eager, “Oh, well, she just said on the phone that you have been struggling with keeping your bed dry at night and that you’ve been using those…pads…as a precaution. She said she thought they may have caused an infection like this back in January as well. She said to take you here.”
“So it’s the same thing as before then?” Jordan asked, not surprised but curious to confirm, as she now glanced around the room seeing the IV drip bag leading to her arm, the heavy cotton knit blanket, and the window out which she could see nothing but blue sky. She could still feel the catheter line leading from her bladder snaking under her leg and down the side of the bed.
“Yes. Well, the doctor decided to admit you because you were so lethargic and because we aren’t your parents. He wanted to make sure you had adequate care. What he’s told us so far is that you have a bladder infection; but he’s been on the phone with your parents quite a bit.”
“Oh.” Jordan said. “So are you guys gonna go back to the hotel tonight or what? Isn’t it kinda late?”
“Well, we were just talking about that. Would you like for one of us to stay? The hospital says they could wheel in a cot into the room or they have a guest room down the hall one or both of us could crash in.” Mr. Johns volunteered.
Jordan thought for a minute. She hadn’t talked with her mom in what seemed like an eternity and she felt a little scared in the hospital all by herself – especially the thought of staying overnight. The only other time it had ever happened was for her sleep study, but that was a different experience altogether.
“Hmm,” she said, “yeah, maybe I would like some company.”
---------------------
In the end, they decided to talk the hospital staff into letting them both stay – and rotate between the guest room and the cot in Jordan’s room. Shortly after their conversation, Jordan had talked with her mother on the hospital phone, which had been helpful. Sally reminded her that her teachers meant the very best for her and that they wouldn’t spill the beans. She also scolded her for not taking good hygienic care of her perineal area. Jordan didn’t have the energy to argue or defend herself. Rather, she meekly agreed. Had her mother been within touching distance, she would have meekly fallen into her arms and sobbed.
Shockingly, Jordan’s Dad had called the emotionally raw teen as well that Wednesday night. To add to her shock, he apologized in the most wholehearted way she could recall him ever doing for missing the ‘goodbye’ at the airport. She really couldn’t help but think that he sounded genuinely broken up about it and although she didn’t feel much of an inclination to give him grace or forgiveness, it was a surprising change. She wondered what, if anything, might have been behind it.
Around 10:30pm, Mr. Johns cracked the door and made his way to the cot in the corner of the room, a couple feet from Jordan’s hospital bed. Unsure if she was still awake, he tried to be quiet as he tiptoed to the makeshift bed.
“Oh hi, is that you Mr. Johns?” she asked quietly, still sounding rather weathered.
“Hmm? Yep. It’s me Jordan. Just thought I’d come to keep you company for a while. Is that ok?” He had been sure to keep the hospital door open, still paranoid about any kind of accusation of impropriety between teacher and student.
“Yeah, that’d be fine Mr. Johns.” She laid back flat with her head on her pillow.
“How’re you feeling? Any better?”
“Yeah quite a bit better actually. Still tired though.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised to hear that; but I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. I bet by morning you’ll be ready to get out of here.” He paused, looking over at her from his sitting position on the cot. “So did you talk to your Mom at all?”
“Yep. And my Dad called me too which was kinda---“ she caught herself, not wanting to drag her teacher into the family drama.
He sensed the slipup and obviously knew about what had been going on in her home so he decided to ask. “Jordan, how’re you doing – like, with all that’s been happening – at home? I’m sure it’s been hard…right?”
Jordan thought for a minute, not really knowing how or what to say. “Well, um, it’s…in a way it’s better now…”
“Oh? Mr. Johns asked trying to get her to open up.”
“I don’t know Mr. Johns, you probably don’t wanna hear about this…”
“No its fine dear. Try me.” He smiled.
“Well. It’s just that my parents really were not getting along at all…and it was hard having to listen to them you know?...Having a break from that has just been a little peaceful you know?”
He nodded. And then, thinking for a moment himself, he decided to level with Jordan a little bit. Offer her some quid pro quo for what she had done against her will earlier that morning.
“Jordan, do you remember back in the middle of November that one day at school when I was so upset and I kinda acted a little weird? I think it was around the time when you were finishing your story.”
The girl in bed remembered the day well. In fact remembered at least one incident following it when she had asked him about what was going on in his life and he had flatly dismissed her concern as something exclusively of importance in ‘the adult world’.
“Yeah…” she said nervously, not entirely sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say either.
“Well, I thought maybe you deserve to know why I was so upset. And since you kinda had to tell me about…your medical issue…against your will, I figured maybe it’s fair that I share with you something from my life.”
What the hell? The thirteen-year-old wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to in such an adult-like manner. This is weird.
“Ok?” she said, raising her eyebrow.
I hope this is a good idea. Mr. Johns thought to himself. Here goes.
“Well, I’m on the board of Hope Seattle, your Dad’s company.”
Oh shit, what are they doing together? He’s on Dad’s side too? I should’ve known. Jordan thought.
“When they asked me to be on it back when I got hired at BCS, I was really flattered because I was a pretty young teacher and I certainly didn’t have much money or political clout in the city. But they wanted someone from the school and because I really believed in the mission of the center, I said ‘yes’.”
Ok, ok, ok. Get to the point will ya? She thought now genuinely curious.
“Uh huh.” Was all she said.
“So last fall when everyone heard about your Dad’s relationship with Melissa and after he moved into her apartment---“
“Wait. Everyone knows about it? And that’s HER apartment?!” Jordan’s mind was spinning.
“Sorry Jordan, but yes. Everyone knows. And yes, that apartment in Belltown is Melissa’s. I’m sure it isn’t easy to hear about it from the outside. I’m sorry. But this isn’t really what I’m trying to tell you…”
“Ok well what is it then?” She asked, thinking, well get to the fucking point!
“Anyways, when all that came out, I was really offended and concerned by it – as were many people.” He looked Jordan in the eyes to let this sink in. “When a Dad does something like that to any of my students, it makes me angry. I know how you need your Dad to show up for you – to notice you – to see you for who you are and to celebrate you as beautiful and talented.”
Jordan’s eyes began to fog up with tears and she felt a lump form in her throat.
“Your Dad wasn’t giving that to you. I could see it from a million miles away. I mean, it’s not like we were really close or anything but I could tell that he was following his own… selfish…” (Mr. Johns thought about using the word ‘cock’ here, but it didn’t seem entirely becoming in front of his seventh grade student) “…lust. Look at you, you’re amazing Jordan. Smart and talented and tall and beautiful and he’s missing it chasing that woman who’s broken up more marriages than you can shake a stick at! I was furious!”
She didn’t know what to say.
“So as a board member, I decided to put out a motion to have your Dad removed as CEO of Hope.”
A flood of shock moved across Jordan’s face.
“I didn’t do it out of retaliation or anything. I just thought it was crap that he could do that to you and his family, while at the same time stand in that position of authority of a Christian organization that takes so much money from Church donors. Their whole mission is supposed to be about promoting what Jesus is all about – and abandoning your family so you can go chase the latest hot chick isn’t that! So I put up a motion at the board meeting and that’s when it got bad for both of us.”
Jordan’s eyes were still wide – and now red with tears.
“Your Dad was obviously upset with me. But quickly most of the board came to agree with my position and it was clear that in the December board meeting, the vote was gonna go my way. He was gonna lose his job. That’s why he kept talking about moving to New York permanently with Melissa. He thought he was gonna be ‘done’ at Hope Seattle within a couple weeks. But that’s when it got really strange.”
He paused for a moment and wiped his nose and eyes.
“There’s another person on the board who is very powerful in the community. I’m not going to tell you who it is because it just isn’t prudent for you to know. Anyways, he is also on the school board at BCS and he’s a big donor to the school as well. He came to me in private one day and he threatened me that if I allowed the board vote to go forward against your dad, he would be sure to that Mrs. Johns and I would lose our own jobs at BCS by the end of the year.”
Jordan furrowed her brow and said, “Well…that’s…that’s…that’s wrong!!”
“It is…but it happens sometimes. Even in the church. It’s called politics.” He looked at her seriously and paused. “So I was in a difficult situation all winter long and I kept delaying the vote because I didn’t know what I should do. I felt so stressed by this whole thing Jordan. The more I got to know you and the better you were doing in school, the more angry I became at your Dad and what he was doing and the more I wanted him to lose his job – especially after he apparently got that school board member to blackmail me into swaying the vote. But at the same time, I know that I love my job at the school and I don’t want to leave it you know? I felt like if I just gave up and used my influence to get the board to let your Dad stay, I would be selling out.”
“I can’t believe my Dad could be capable of something like that! It makes him sound like he’s just plain evil.” Jordan shook her head and felt even more in shock. “But I guess I never would’ve guessed that he would’ve had an affair and moved out either!”
Mr. Johns nodded solemnly.
“So what did you do?” she asked.
“Well, just before we left on this trip, I decided to sway the vote – to let your Dad keep his job.”
“WHAT? Mr. Johns! Why? What the hell?” Her anger was furious and swift and much beyond anything the teacher had expected.
“Whoa! Whoa! Jordan. Hold on girl. I just told you. It was an incredibly painful decision.”
“But…you just said…why would you…”
“Jordan. Listen honey. The world isn’t always as simple as we might like it to be. We always have to make difficult decisions in life. In the end, I decided that I could do more good if I kept my job than if I made sure that one jerk lost his.”
Whatever! She thought. I should’ve known you had something else going on underneath that neat little smile. I knew you were somehow on Dad’s side.
Her disgust was obvious and leaking through her eyes, cheeks, and teeth.
“Jordan I’m sorry maybe you feel let down by my decision. I’m sorry if you feel a little less trust in me – it’s fair.”
“You’re right I do.” Jordan began, not knowing where her speech would take her. “You just told me all about how angry you were at my Dad for all the ways he hurt me and my mom and my family. And then you had the chance to make him pay – at the moment he was smiling through his teeth acting like everything was A-OK – at the moment when you were acting like everything was ok with me! You had the chance to make justice happen for me. And then you just let him slip. Just like everyone else! How else am I supposed to feel? I’m supposed to just believe that you’re on my side because you say so?”
“Jordan – I’m sorry but it was an impossible situation for everyone. I would’ve been FIRED in order to get your Dad fired. Revenge is a terrible thing. It bites everyone. I felt horrible about myself to keep my job and let it go but how is it fair to me that I have to get fired in order to do the right thing? Maybe people need grace sometimes too Jordan? Maybe grace changes them.”
Although his arguments might’ve seemed reasonable in the messy realities of the real world, they seemed thin to the girl who had been traumatized so dreadfully. She lay back in her hospital bed in shock, frozen, unable to speak. Rather than producing a tighter relationship between the teacher and adolescent student, Mr. Johns’ risky self-revelation appeared to actually create a divide.
Well that didn’t go the way I had hoped, he thought.
Why the hell did he even tell me that? She thought.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 5, 2014 at 5:36 PM
Content: Chapter 33 – [April 4, 2002]
Sally felt powerless.
3,000 miles west from her daughter, she was unable to do anything but go to work, go through the motions of her day, take care of Mindi and Jen, and act normal. It was agonizing. Poor Jordie was suffering in a hospital bed on the other side of the country and she couldn’t be Momma.
At one point on Wednesday morning during spring break, she had questioned if she should immediately fly out to be with her ailing girl, but Jo had talked her out of it reasoning that Jordan’s illness probably wasn’t all that bad. But when Sally had heard that she was staying overnight in the hospital, her anxiety had hit the roof. She had been on the phone all afternoon with each of the Johns’ giving instructions and asking for updates – the same was true with Thursday.
Luckily (probably because of the way I hounded them, she thought) the couple had chosen to stay in the hospital overnight with her daughter, which took some of the edge of fear off the frightened mother.
As of early Thursday afternoon (Pacific time), the news had been that Jordan was doing very well on the antibiotics and that the hospital was planning on releasing her early on in the evening. The three were scheduled (as originally planned) to fly home the next day, Friday.
When Sally had talked with Jordan early Thursday morning, she seemed short and frustrated, as though something was gnawing at her. When she had asked what it was, the teenager had quickly dismissed it, which made the intuitive mom know for sure that something was up and that her girl just didn’t want to discuss it in front of her present company.
What happened? She wondered. Was her teachers’ discovery of the diapers that bad of a thing? Did Mrs. Johns squeal on me for telling before the trip?
By late Thursday afternoon just before Jordan was to be released, Sally had her answer. The thirteen-year-old had phoned her back apparently once the two teachers had left the room to go on an errand or something. She quickly relayed the entire story about Ted, his job at Hope Seattle, the board vote, Mr. John’s job at the school, the mystery blackmailer, everything. Sally initially had had a similar reaction as Jordan: she felt equally frustrated at the teacher for not following through against her bastard of an estranged husband (although she masked it quite well as she debriefed with her daughter on the phone). Quickly though, she rebuffed her feelings and reminded herself that this story was being relayed by a drug-ridden thirteen-year-old in the hospital and probably needed to be taken with a grain of salt. Before she, the mother, got all hyped up about anything, it needed to be verified. Furthermore, she reasoned to herself, what use would vengeance be in this case anyways? Why would three people losing their jobs bring something good?
“Listen Jordie. I know you’re upset and maybe you have a right to be. But you also are in those people’s debt. They’ve traveled with you all the way across the country, given up their spring break (and they don’t get many as teachers), and it was Mr. Johns that helped you win the competition in the first place. It’s ok to be angry sometimes but you also need to be respectful, alright? I’m sure he has his reasons for whatever he says he did – and I’m sure it was a terribly difficult situation to be in. You know?”
Jordan remained silent.
“I mean. If it all happened like he says, it’d be incredibly hard to willingly give up your job that you love in order to get someone else fired. Right!? That’s a tough sell honey – for anyone. Maybe you need to give him a little break and just try to have an ok time with the rest of your trip? Besides – I’m not sure it would help anything much to have three people without jobs just so one guy who’s admittedly been behaving badly gets what he deserves.”
Jordan begrudgingly huffed an agreement, looking out her hospital window into the cloudy sky, not at all feeling forgiveness or kindness in her heart.
Thrown off by the curve ball of the story, Sally felt uneasy. I guess it was too much to wish or ask that people in the church would just let us deal with this privately. So everyone is talking about it then, huh? I wonder what they’re saying?
It had been the first time she really allowed herself to go fully down the road of social worry and propriety with regards to her divorce. The thought of people judging she and her family in a public forum made her feel nauseated.
-------------------
Melissa Cooper sat nervously in the office of Harris & Schubert, Attorneys at Law. Brian Harris was Ted’s lawyer and the 27 year-old woman had made her own appointment to see him without her boyfriend’s knowledge. She felt slightly embarrassed about the motive for her visit given that Brian was also a church member. But the jealousy she felt of Sally for Ted was strong enough to overcome it. She knew she could do almost anything to get what she wanted, even something as grotesque as what she was about to provoke.
“Ms. Cooper?” the receptionist behind the dark desk called her name and pointed toward the heavy wood door.
She stood and walked toward it, feeling both fear and ecstasy.
“Hi Ms. Cooper, please come in. Take a seat.” The lawyer smiled, shook her hand, and motioned to an empty chair on the opposite side of his dark walnut colored desk. He looked professional; straight-laced with a full black suit and red tie.
The office was cozy but cheery, looking out toward Queen Ann and South Lake Union from its location in an office building I-5 and the old Paramount theatre. The decor was sparse but attractive: a globe in the corner behind her chair and a painting of what looked to be some ancient war general on horseback behind the man in the suit. Lighted bookcases flanked his sides.
Crossing his leg and leaning back in his leather chair, Mr. Harris said, “So how can I help you today Ms. Cooper?”
“Thank you for seeing me today Mr. Harris. I’m here to talk about Ted’s divorce.”
His brow immediately furrowed and he moved his weight forward on his chair, planting both feet on the ground, “Well. I’m sorry Ms. Cooper, but you’re not exactly a party to that. I know you seem to have an interest but it technically doesn’t concern you. Ted is my client with whom I share attorney-client privileges.”
“Oh I understand that,” answered Melissa expecting the objection, “I didn’t come hoping to ask for advice or get information from you about it. I came to offer you some information of my own that I think you’d find very interesting.”
“Oh? I have to say Ms. Cooper, this is very strang---“
She interrupted him “I have credible reasons to believe that Sally Reynolds is abusing her oldest daughter. I think she’s an unfit mother. From many things that I’ve witnessed in taking care of her children over the past several months, I have lost a great deal of respect for that woman. I’ve been alarmed at the psychological and emotional condition they’ve showed up at my doorstep week after week and I’ve been taxed…” at this she began a feigned weep, “…by all the support and counseling I’ve had to offer.” She delicately flicked a tear from her lower eyelash with the edge of her pointer finger.
“That’s quite an accusation Ms. Cooper. But still, it’s not for me to interject or decid---”
Interrupting once again, and this time not relinquishing the floor for over thirty minutes, the young Auburn haired woman continued. She discussed in as vivid and shocking of detail and with as verbose of language as she could muster, everything she knew about Jordan’s bedwetting – namely Sally’s mystifying twice-daily perineal care of the teenager. She included innuendos of brainwashing, malnourishment, emotional abuse, and potentially even sexual abuse. She told the lawyer that she believed forcing a teenager to submit to the humiliation of being forced into diapers on a nightly basis – and having to submit to an adult putting them on, was analogous to rape. At several points during her stories and descriptions, she broke down into fits of supposed empathetic tears for the girl whom she, in truth, could not stand. When she recounted her own experience of being ‘forced’ to help Jordan with the nightly routine, she described feeling shocked and dirty about it and did everything she could to get out of the task; saying that she still hadn’t forgiven Ted for his requirement.
“Well this is a rather…amazing…story Ms. Cooper.” The lawyer uttered when she had finally finished.
“Well of course it is amazing. Why d’you think I came to all this trouble? That woman is a numbskull and she’s destroying her daughters.” Melissa looked at the lawyer, begging him to show more emotion and snap to action on her behalf.
“Listen Ms. Cooper. The Law works very methodically and very carefully. And like I said, you’re not a party to these proceedings. I have to admit that your story has piqued a little curiosity in me and I might try to get some of Jordan’s medical history subpoenaed into the court record as evidence. This will allow any concerns or observations in doctor’s notes to come to light.” He said calmly.
“Is that all Mr. Harris?” she said with exasperation.
“Ms. Cooper. I’m not sure what else you expected here today but my taking any action at all behind Teds’ back (and I’m assuming he doesn’t know you’re here today right?) is really outside the bounds of what might be considered reasonable.”
“Well what about calling CPS! Isn’t that OBVIOUS?” She looked at him with outrage and a little condescension through her green eyes.
“Ms. Cooper this is a pretty sensitive thing you’ve just done. It’s a pretty big deal to report these kinds of things unnecessarily. I’m not mandatorily required to report something like this because of client-attorney privilege… And now, technically, you’re my client of another sort by default. Besides, I’m not convinced that any abuse has even taken place at all.”
The young woman felt herself getting angry. Why am I wasting my time here talking to you then Mr. Harris? “So who do I need to talk with to get something into action? Can’t I just tell you you’re fee to talk?” She asked with an edge of attitude and a sneer on her face.
“Listen Ms. Cooper. You need to cool it. The law works very methodically and sometimes slowly. This information may just be relevant and it might be useful. But nothing is going to happen this afternoon with it. Ok?” He fired right back with darts in his own eyes.
“If you really want to do something right now, I suppose you could call CPS yourself if you feel so strongly about it. And in addition, you could write out everything you’ve just told me and sign an affidavit saying it’s true. That’ll make it admissible in court if it somehow becomes necessary. Otherwise, it’s completely useless to the actual divorce proceeding; and it probably isn’t going to be relevant anyways. Ok?”
“Sure. Fine. I can do that.”
In silence, she stood up, shook his hand, and walked out.
In the end, Brian Harris, attorney at law, while skeptical of the weasely woman who had sat before him, also thought that perhaps this information might just afford his client a way out of child support – and a way to get custody of his children for himself.
I’m gonna need to request a continuance for our court date scheduled for next week. He thought to himself.
Melissa called and filed her report with the Child Protective agency that very evening. The lawyer, while conflicted about what to do, chose to hold off on his own report until seeing the medical records in his hands.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 5, 2014 at 10:39 PM
Content: Chapter 34 – [Monday April 8, 2002]
Amber’s own spring break far surpassed in her own mind what she perceived Jordan’s to be like (and likely did in reality as well). She, her sister Anna, and her parents had traveled to their family’s timeshare in Hawaii for the week. The tan she returned with helped her to regain some confidence and actually reduced her sense of jealousy for her school menace, the teen-author.
Why do I even care that people think she’s so great? Does she even know how to dress? Does she know how to carry herself? Does she got a tan like THIS? She’s the lowest hanging fruit of BCS. Who even cares if she’s popularity or not? The bully had thought to herself that morning walking onto the bus feeling self-assured as ever.
Nicole on the other hand had spent her spring break helping her mother with her housekeeping jobs around the Ballard area and was pissed she didn’t get to keep any of the money; it all had to go toward the school bill. When she returned to school by Monday morning, she was in a pissy mood and wanted all the more to make someone else’s life as miserable as her own.
Why does that tall brat Jordan get all the breaks? What!? She writes some stupid story and they start throwing money her way and send her across the country on a tour? What about me? I work really hard! I deserve---
Her thoughts were cut off by seeing her friend Amber, walk down the aisle of the bus toward her usual seat near the back.
“Looks like you had a good break.” Nicole tried to hold back her smile despite her putrid mood.
“Yeah it was really amazing Nicole, I want you to come with us sometime. Dad says you can. It’s just awesome.” She said as she sat, almost glowing, and looked out the window. “So what’d you do? How was break back home?”
“Pretty crappy all in all. I didn’t even get to keep any money. It all had to go to my bill.” Nicole said dryly.
“Oh that sucks. Sorry.”
“Yeah. But, whatever. At least I can salve my pain with a little havoc on someone else’s part…Here she comes.” Looking up at Jordan who was just entering the bus and receiving a number of high fives on her way down the aisle, Nicole’s blood boiled with jealousy.
“Yeah I guess.” Amber said with little enthusiasm.
“Hey what’s up sticks? Have a good trip on your world stilt tour?” Nicole stuck her foot out to trip the tall girl as she walked by but Jordan had long become accustomed to her tormenter’s games and she easily stepped over it and made her way several rows back. Jordan made no other response.
“What if we just laid off a while Nicole?” Amber whispered calmly. “Why do we care so much about a stupid seventh grader anyways? It’s not like she’s taken anything from us. It’s not like she knows how to dress or comb her hair…or like she can play a single sport. She’s good at one thing. Why are so bothered by that?”
“What the hell Amber? What’s wrong with you?” Nicole waved her hand in front of Amber’s face and snapped her hands.
“I don’t know. I just think we’ve been wasting a lot of time all jealous about her gaining a little popularity and maybe it’s a little overkill. I mean. Doesn’t it say something about our lives if all we have to do is try to make someone else miserable?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean Amber?” Nicole said hissed defensively.
“Sorry Nikki, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying maybe I’m getting tired of it right now.”
Just then Joey Michael and another player, an 8th grader, from the school’s baseball team got on the bus and walked right past both Amber and Nicole and sat across from Jordan, high fiving her and congratulating her on the national broadcast of the story, asking her about Natalie Portman, and generally making a big deal of her spring break trip. The snub had felt duplicitous and intentional to the pair of girls, namely Amber.
Almost instantly, her sense of goodwill and gratitude melted off and the cold sheen of ice returned to match her counterpart’s. “That fucking bitch!” she whispered.
“I thought you just sai—“
“Shut up! This is war now.” Amber said with fire in her eyes.
---------------------------------
During English class that morning Mr. Johns had tried to further gauge the damage in the fractured relationship between he and Jordan by calling on her several times for answers, which had been met by short verbalizations and grunts.
When the bell rang at the end, he called for her to stay after class and she had acted as though she hadn’t heard, scurrying out the door and down the hall.
Wow. He thought, apparently the rift is pretty serious. I’ve got some work to do.
Over the course of the remainder of their trip in Washington D.C., Jordan had pretty much been bedridden and Mr. Johns had tried to make himself as scarce as possible. He even had rented the adjacent hotel room to make all the obvious bodily function issues less ‘in your face’ that final night in which Jordan was out of the hospital but not yet home. Mrs. Johns had helped look after her but she was uncomfortable as well and Jordan had insisted that she could take care of herself.
The ride to the airport on Friday morning had been tense and quiet. Jordan’s responses to questions and invitations had been about as short and nippy as those he had witnessed in class on this particular Monday morning. Clearly, she had not taken the news about her dad and the board vote very well.
In a conversation at the D.C. airport with his wife when Jordan had plodded away to go to the bathroom, she had finally scolded him for telling the girl about the private political details of the school and shelter.
“What were you thinking Tyler? Why would she ever need to know about that stuff? She’s a student! How could that possibly be helpful?”
“I just…she…I don’t know…I just felt bad for her…that we found out all this personal stuff about her and I wanted to let her in on a little of our lives…to be fair…”
She shook her head, “That’s a dangerous game Tyler. You have no idea how this could play out for you. You’re the teacher here. You need to know better.” Her voice had taken on a motherly and instructive tone.
“I know…I know…it was stupid…it’s just been so awkward on this trip…maybe you were right in the first place…that we shouldn’t even have come…I hope this doesn’t come back to bite us somehow…maybe we should’ve protected ourselves…looked after our family first…”
Adrian had smiled inside knowing she was right, “Tyler it’s ok; no harm no foul and in this case. I’m sure all that’ll come from it is a strained or broken relationship with your student; but maybe she’ll come around. It’s not like the board meeting minutes are private and you didn’t spill the beans on the blackmailer’s name. So you haven’t dug yourself some kind of legal hole though.”
“It’s just so dumb. I wish none of this would’ve happened and we could go back 10 days and try it one more time.”
But of course it had happened and that Monday morning after spring break, the inexperienced teacher felt as though all the work he had put into building a rapport with Jordan and investing in her writing and trying to mitigate the damage her father was causing had all gone to pot.
It makes me want to not even try so hard if this is all that happens… He couldn’t help but think to himself as his next class filed into the classroom. I’m not sure how much of this I can take. Maybe I should’ve just played ‘chicken’ with that bastard Yates.
-------------------------
“So I guess our mom’s are besties now huh?” Alex said as she crammed three French fries in her mouth. The two were sitting together outside on a stone wall side by side looking out over a spit of the Puget Sound. The playground was to their left and they could hear smaller kids screaming and playing.
“What? ‘Besties’? What the hell does that mean?” Jordan asked genuinely confused, poking a few fries of her own in her mouth.
“You’ve never heard of ‘besties’? It means best friends, best buds, pals; it’s what we are. Our moms – they’re like old chums hanging out all the time again.” Alex said smiling and happy to be back at school in her most comfortable realm again.
“Oh. Really? They are?”
“Jordan! You haven’t noticed how they’re always going to coffee together? They’ve practically gone every Friday. Why do you think you’re home all afternoon or over at my place all the time? My mom’s pretty mad at your Dad too. I didn’t realize he was being such a jerk.” Alex said just trying to make conversation. She, in fact, had heard quite a bit more about the divorce case, lawyers, and stress than Jordan.
“Yeah he’s kind of lost his mind.” Trying to change the subject, Jordan asked, “So how’s your dad doing? What’s it been like with him home? It’s been what, two months now?”
Alex smiled brightly. “I can’t even tell you Jordan. You haven’t been over much when he’s home from work have you? He’s like a totally different person. I mean he’s still dad. But really, I’ve had to get to know him all over again for the first time. So in some ways it’s been hard and in other ways it’s been really cool; cuz he knows me…like for real…but yet not really, you know?”
Jordan nodded her head.
“Like the other day we went out to ice cream together as a family. (Never used to happen when Dad was drinking). And for some reason he knew that I always eat Rocky Road Ice cream. So weird!” She smiled. “But yet he like totally forgot that I’ve been looking forward to being on the track team this spring for like pretty much as long as I’ve been alive.” She almost rolled her eyes.
“Wow that is weird. I bet it’s kinda fun though.” Jordan said, encouraging her.
“Yeah, it’s totally new. Sad in some ways. But really good. He says he’s gonna come Wednesday to our meet too…Hey will you come?” Thinking for minute she added, “JOEY’s gonna be there.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “I heard what happened on the bus this morning. You really showed Amber and Nicole what’s up!”
“What?! All I did was sit there and talk to a couple boys.” Jordan said feigning ignorance.
“Whatever girl! You loved every minute of that!” She was giggly with joy. “I’m gonna be running the 100 meter dash and the four by 100. And your boy Joey is doing the same plus the 200 meter and I think he’s doing the high jump too.”
“He’s not my boy Alex.” Jordan said firmly with a straight face. She couldn’t hold it for long however and in an instant they both burst into laughter.
“So how was your trip? I never really got an update. It was like you dropped off the face of the planet after you left.” Alex asked nonchalantly and not knowing about any of the drama.
“Oh…well…it was ok…I guess.” Jordan replied quickly taking a long drink.
Alex rolled her eyes seeing through the ruse and said, “Yeah, it sounds like it. Anything else?” She raised her eyebrows and looked at Jordan.
“Well…” the young author said in a whispered voice, leaning over toward her friend, “I ended up in the hospital again.”
“What?! Jordan! What’s wrong with you? Jeez! What happened?”
“SHHHH!” Jordan glared at her friend. “I got another infection. I had to wear one of my things on the plane because it was an all night flight and then I didn’t have a change of clothes and I couldn’t change in the bathroom because Mrs. Johns kept following me everywhere so I had to have it on for like 18 hours or somethin---“
“Like…wet?” Alex asked with a disgusted look on her face.
“Well…yeah…It was an all night flight and it got a little wet and I got stuck---“
“ICK!!!” Alex interrupted again, making a shivering action with her arms outstretched in mock gagging.
“Are you gonna let me talk or what Alex? Besides, you’re on the verge of hurting my feelings. This is my life remember? And I don’t think it’s that funny.”
Alex snapped out of her chipper mood and looked a bit more serious. “Sorry Jordan. I just…Sorry.”
“Well…so…Natalie Portman was pretty disappointing. She wouldn’t hardly even talk with me. She just ate and looked at this fancy phone she had and was texting. It had a color screen, which I had never seen before. That was cool I guess. When I asked her about the Star Wars movie, she said she couldn’t answer any questions about it because of some contact she signed or something. The only thing that happened was we went to breakfast with her and she ignored me and the Johns’ and then we left. It was SO lame.”
“Oh really? That’s super lame.” Alex said truthfully.
“Oh yeah…and when I was in the hospital, my dad called and tried to apologize to me or something. It was really weird. I couldn’t figure it out. At first I wondered if he was trying to butter me up or manipulate me or something, but then I just wondered if something had happened to him. He called me again this week too as soon as I got home ‘just to check on me’. I swear, he hasn’t shown me this much concern and attention since I was like three. It was the strangest thing ever…”
“Wow Jordan, that is strange. He didn’t say anything either time? Like that something happened?”
“Well, not really. But after I talked with him in the hospital, the weirdest thing of all happened. And I think I figured out why my dad was calling so much…” Jordan went on to tell Alex about Mr. Johns’ revelation regarding the Hope Seattle board vote and the blackmail accusation. She told her how angry she had become at Mr. Johns and how tense the remainder of the trip had been.
“That’s heavy. I can’t believe your dad would do something like that.”
“In a way it is shocking. But in another way I can see it. He’ll do almost anything to get what he wants. It’s just another thing in a long line of terrible things he’s done. I feel like I’m getting to know my real dad little by little over the past six months.” Jordan said with little emotion.
“Jeez. I’m really sorry Jordan.”
“What a jerk too; Mr. Johns? Way to stand up in class every day and preach principles constantly and tell us how we have to ‘stand up for justice’ – but then when you get a chance to do the right thing, you bend over and take it up the tailpipe?”
Jordan hadn’t heard the figure of speech before but she laughed and agreed. “Yeah, seriously. He’s pretty unbelievable. I’m so angry at him – and so is my mom. What a joke!”
The ball rang, and the two friends got up to face the rest of their day.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 7, 2014 at 11:23 PM
Content: Thanks
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 35 – [Friday, April 12, 2002]
It was Friday afternoon and Jordan was home alone through the early evening. School, as usual, had been let out early. Her mom had planned to once again go to coffee with Mrs. Miller after getting off work. With both her siblings in after-school care and daycare until Sally picked them up, Jordan was left all alone to her own devices for several hours. She had quickly changed into more comfortable sweats and t-shirt outfit once arriving at her house on 22nd Avenue. But on this particular afternoon (as had been the case all week long), rather than indulging in her secret and approaching habitual pleasure, Jordan couldn’t bring herself to do it.
After having talked so frankly with her Mom about diapering herself for pleasure (before the trip to Washington D.C.), she now felt somehow uncomfortable and even silly about following through with it under her knowledge. Even though the conversation had kind of fallen apart in the end, she never-the-less believed that her Mom didn’t judge her harshly (or at all) for the practice about which she had come to feel so much shame. However, they hadn’t really settled anything in their talk other than the fact that Sally had been monitoring Jordan’s diaper supply. Therefore, Jordan knew that conceivably each time she used a diaper during the day, her mom would be aware of it. This fact led to feel simply weird about doing it now. She couldn’t break through what felt like her Mom’s heavy gaze even while she was now alone in the house.
It wasn’t as though the sneaking around and secrecy in itself had been a particularly therapeutic aspect of her habit as far as she understood. Jordan just hadn’t quite yet been ready to open up such a gaping wound of shame in the open – especially in front of her own mother. For a girl who was in the very early stages of a growing awareness of her sexual identity (and the coping mechanisms that made her tick), it was immobilizing to know that her mom knew the deepest darkest details of her life. Even with her mom’s blessing and acceptance, it still just seemed strange and disgraceful.
Beyond all that, Jordan had begun to put together that her evening diaper changing sessions had felt faintly differently ever since the pre-trip conversation as well (and particularly after returning home from her trip). Jordan couldn’t have explained it if she had to, but her mom just seemed to be a little more business oriented of late and zipped through the motions more quickly. Her touch hadn’t seemed quite as soft as before and she hadn’t taken the time to engage quite as much. Overall, Jordan had felt like the moments she had come to rely on for stress-relief had simply ‘changed’ in nature and she wondered if the old way might be lost for good.
So with all those doubts and questions rattling around in her mind about diapers on that early April Friday, the bedwetting girl who had grown an affinity for her chosen treatment option decided to forgo that enjoyment. In exchange, she opted for the first ever coping mechanism with which she had used to deal with life: writing. Her newest project on the disappearing boy had just gotten underway around the end of January and many hiccups had made the progress slow since then. Between her ER visit, doctor’s clinics, the trip to D.C., homework, and not to mention her newfound afternoon habit, it had been difficult to make space for regular work.
But on that Friday in particular, she found herself with several hours to dedicate to her goal and made more than a few steps forward toward its completion. She decided to name her main character “Frankie George” and had begun the novel by an initial couple chapters creating the setting and his discovery of his secret ability. It was set in modern times in her own city of Seattle.
Might as well put it in a place I know and understand right? She had reasoned.
He was only 10 years old at the beginning of the book. The major twist with Frankie’s ability for disappearing was that it only happened to him under very narrow circumstances: the primary one being that he could not be feeling fear and in fact had to be feeling courage or self-confidence. In her work that Friday, she described several scenes and scenarios and introduced friends and characters to Frankie’s life wherein this ability appeared only haphazardly and in a way that he didn’t yet understand.
As she hashed away on her weathered keyboard and periodically glanced out the window into the street to see the sun moving closer and closer toward the horizon, she began to think about how much help it would be to have Mr. Johns’ opinion on her project. She couldn’t help the thought – it just came before she had time to stop it. She almost immediately felt sad for the ways she had attacked him after his ‘sort of’ confession the night in the hospital in Washington D.C. In part, as an average trifling seventh grader, Jordan regretted her behavior because she missed her teacher’s expertise as an editor for her work. Circumstances come and go and as she had begun writing again in earnest, she came to the realization that Mr. Johns actually provided her a useful service that she now missed.
I can’t very well go back and ask him to help me with my book right now! That’d be weird…and rude. She thought.
But on a deeper level, in truth, Jordan also felt sad about the loss of relationship she was already experiencing because of the things she had said. She had come to really appreciate and rely on Mr. Johns as a kind of friend and a mentor. But already, it felt differently between the two of them. The relationships she had had with men in her life in general all seemed to be pretty rocky as she thought about it that evening.
Could Mr. Johns’ decision possibly have been a good one? She thought. He’s taught me so many things this year, could I have overreacted by what I said? I kinda flew off the handle and freaked out like that treated him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. And this week at school -- I really was a bitch too. I wonder if he coulda had a point?
She thought about his words that night in the hospital, ‘Maybe people need grace sometimes Jordan?’ he had said. Did he really mean that? Was he just trying to bulldoze me over and get me on his side? Or has Mr. Johns really forgiven my Dad (as if he even has that much to forgive him for)? But how does that even happen for people anyways?
She stopped writing and began thinking then about her Dad. She thought about what she had missed in her life and childhood – more about what she had missed in the big picture than what she had missed over the previous 5 or 6 months since he had moved out of the house. It was something she had tried not to dwell on but this time she couldn’t help herself. The thoughts of forgiveness swirled in her head. The concept seemed too simple, too frustratingly unjust for her to even consider. Yet because her teacher, whom she for so long had respected, seemed to have opened up the possibility for it in his own life, Jordan tried to leave the possibility open for it in hers as well.
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Jo and Sally were at their usual spot in Fremont, but this time a little later in the evening because it was tax time at Sally’s office. With the warm weather, both women had graduated to iced cappuccino drinks and they appeared quite natural in their setting. The two sat in their typical places in front of the big window adjacent to the sidewalk with the limited view of the boats on Lake Union. The table was small and round and weathered; the chairs wooden and worn.
“So why did it get moved back?” Jo asked.
“I don’t know honestly. Ted’s lawyer requested it, which makes me feel worried. Pretty much anything I hear them doing makes me feel worried though. But really, haven’t they had enough time to prepare? The first time we sat in front of the Judge was the end of February! Could it take any longer Jo?”
“Yeah that’s pretty crazy Sal. But I’ve heard of some judges actually purposely pushing out divorce proceedings secretly in hope of the couples getting back together or solve things amicably in the meantime. Maybe that’s what he’s hoping for you two?” She gave Sally a silly grin as if to say, wouldn’t that be hilarious right?
“Well I just wish we could get on with the stupid thing. Come what may. I’m sick of sitting around.” Sally said looking out the window.
“How was the rest of Jordan’s trip? Did she recover alright?” Jo asked. Sally had called her for advice and input pretty much on an alternating basis with the hospital during that week. But once Jordan made it home, the contact had understandably thinned out quite a bit.
“Oh, yeah…we haven’t really checked in since she’s been home huh?” Pausing briefly after the rhetorical question to think, Sally then continued, “Well I think it was ok. It sounds as though things were fairly tense between Jordan and the Johns by the end. She told me this thing about Ted and the board at Hope Seattle. His job was actually on the line for this…fling…with that woman. And Mr. Johns apparently thinks he was blackmailed into influencing the vote to go in favor of Ted. He told Jordan all this in the hospital for some crazy reason. I don’t know. There’s no way to really verify it’s true but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Jo’s face hardened. “Sounds like pretty typical operating procedures to me Sal. I was wondering why Ted was able to keep his job down there. Being a ‘good Christian’ is part of the job description at Hope and I’m not sure bangin’ the help counts as good Christian behavior! But what’s this about blackmail and Mr. Johns?”
Sally slightly rolled her eyes as if to communicate that she didn’t really think it was true or even that it could’ve been miscommunicated somehow. “Well, Jordan says that Mr. Johns tried to get Ted voted off as CEO because of the affair. He was really angry and offended by it and didn’t think he should get to just continue willy-nilly. Kinda like you just said. Anyways, Mr. Johns told her that some other person on the school board informed him that if he did that, he’d make sure both Mr. and Mrs. Johns would lose their jobs at the school…Quid pro quo I guess.”
“That’s pretty nasty Sal. But I don’t think it sounds that crazy honestly. I mean, odd like you say that he would tell Jordan all about it for sure. But I’ve heard of weirder stuff than that on church boards and the like.”
“Yeah I’m still trying to figure out why he would dump all that on her?” Sally drifted into thought. “Well one thought is that if it really happened like he apparently said it did, I’m sure it was a pretty painful and difficult decision for Mr. Johns to make either way.” Jo chimed in. “I mean if you have to choose between principles you believe in or maybe even standing up for a student you’ve seen be treated with a lack of dignity and respect, choose between that and on the other hand keeping your job and kinda looking out for yourself and your family and more long term stuff…that’s tough Sally. And like I said, if it happened like Jordie says, he chose against principles, against her. Maybe he felt like he betrayed her and he needed to confess and almost apologize or something? Maybe he felt guilty for not being able to do the thing he wished he could’ve done?”
“Hmmm.” Sally thought, taking another sip of her icy drink, “You’re a sneaky smart lady Jo. I’ll give you that. And it makes sense to a degree. If it’s true – IF IT’S TRUE. I still think it lacked some judgment but maybe that helps me feel a little better about it.”
“It’ll become clear sooner or later Sal…So how has Jordan been since she made it back home? How’re Mindi and Jen?”
The two went on to jabber about the younger girls and their progress in school. Sally told Jo about how Jordan was now truly the lone bed wetter in the house and that she was considering letting her have her own bedroom again although she hated to keep bouncing Mindi around. She told Jo that she was considering doing a full-blown bedroom shakeup and having Jen move in with Mindi and allowing the two of them to redecorate together while moving Jordan into Jen’s room and giving her the same opportunity. That way, Mindi wouldn’t feel like the middle ‘heel’ child again who’s forced to move.
“Did you ever talk to her about that stuff we talked about a few weeks ago…before spring break? About the diapers going missing?” Jo asked.
“We did actually. I can’t say it went terribly bad or terribly well honestly.” She paused. “It was good I mean. She was honest. It’s just like you predicted. But at one point I kinda reacted negatively and that broke down our conversation.”
“Oh well it sounds like you gave it a valiant effort. And I’m sure your relationship with Jordan is gonna be so much closer eventually because of this. Just keep opening it up and it won’t be too awkward. The great thing about life is that we always get more chances to learn things again.” She smiled.
“Yeah, I guess so. I have to admit that I’ve struggled a little bit with being as ‘present’ with her during our nightly routine after we had that conversation…or maybe it’s just the stress of think about this divorce hearing. I’m not sure. But it feels like it’s been different for both of us.”
“Well, I guess I can see how it might feel a little more awkward now that you know more about Jordie’s true feelings about it. But really, like I said, you wouldn’t feel weird about your daughter asking you to give her a backrub to help her with her stress or to paint her nails or brush her hair or something. It’s just because it’s kind of an odd and infantile accessory and maybe because it involves a more private part of her body that you feel weird about it. But it’s not coerced. You’re not manipulating her or something crazy like that. There aren’t power dynamics in play here. I think you need to relax and go with it.”
Feeling more relieved than she had in weeks by her friend’s words, Sally said, “Thanks Jo, you’re really a Godsend. I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”
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That night after Jen and Mindi were in bed, mother and daughter sat at the kitchen table reading. Sally asked, “You ready for bed yet sweetie? How ‘bout momma goes and gets your stuff and we’ll get you all set up for the night?” The way the words rolled off her Mother’s tongue sounded a little foreign to Jordan of late but were strangely welcome. She nodded silently.
The tall teenage girl made her way to her Mom’s room (because Mindi was already asleep in hers) and shortly Sally was headed back down the hall with her arms full of pajamas, a diaper, and assorted tubes of ointment.
Standing in front of her Mom’s bed, Jordan looked tired and almost shy. Sally began arranging the things she had been holding on the bed, and asked, “How was your week Jordie Dear? Are you still feeling sick at all? How’s your tummy? Did the kids treat you nice?”
“Oh, I dunno Mom, it was alright I guess. Good to see Alex again.” She stood there for a moment, waiting for her Mom’s next move but also on the verge of feeling awkward. “Cindy and Riley and Georgia were nice too, they all complimented me on the story; I guess they heard it again last weekend on the radio…” She spoke rapidly and almost sounded nervous, “…oh, and Joey Michael came and sat by me on the bus on Monday, it was so cool.” She smiled shyly.
Sally straightened up again to face her daughter and just as Jordan slowly reached her hands to begin undoing her sweatpants (as if she didn’t know if that was now expected of her). Sally touched her shoulders ever so tenderly. It was like the jolt of a time machine in Jordan’s body, transporting her back in time and she instantly felt the formerly familiar sensations of peace, safety, and love rush over her. Sally’s touch silently communicated to her, ‘lie back on the bed’ and Jordan obeyed. Her hands fell back to her side, at rest.
Sally worked slowly and methodically that Friday night; she could sense Jordan’s extra layers of stress and she wanted her girl to received the gift of nurture in her nighttime routine to peel it all away. The experienced mother, blessed and set free by her wise friend Jo, gently slid off her thirteen-year-old baby’s cotton sweats and pink-trimmed white panties. She leaned in close to her girl’s ear and calmly whispered, “I’m so so proud of you my sweet sweet little girl. You were incredibly brave on your trip. The way you handled yourself took a lot of courage. Mommy loves you darling.”
She patted her daughter on the tummy as she straightened up again reaching for the diaper. Jordan smiled slightly but gratefully and her chin quivered a little. Her head turned to the side. Slowly and more comfortably looking now, she spread out her arms and pulled up her knees and let them fall apart.
Unfolding the diaper, Sally couldn’t help but let a tear fall from her own eye as she whispered up a prayer of gratitude for the gift that was her remarkable daughter. “Ok lift up your bum sweetheart,” she said as she slid the purple diaper under the girl who lifted her hips in anticipation. This was the only other reaction Jordan seemed to give during this latest rendition of their routine – she had melted completely into the care of her Mommy.
“There we go.” She whispered. “Now, we need to put on some cream to keep your skin nice and clear ok?” Sally opened up the unmarked prescription tube and dispensed some on her finger and massaged it in all around Jordan’s diaper area including her inner thighs and down around her rear end. Ever since Jordan had gone through the yeast infection regimen prescribed by Dr. Yepp and the more rigorous cleanliness protocol to boot, she hadn’t experienced any further diaper rashes. But the thorough application of barrier cream as Sally had done this Friday night was part of that prevention.
“There you go sweetie, that’ll keep you protected.” She said wiping her hands off. “Now let’s get you taped up snug.” The thirteen-year-old’s head still lay to the side, gazing off into nowhere, appearing perfectly content and without a care in the world. Sally smiled to herself knowing how difficult the year had been in many ways, happy that her girl had found at least one outlet.
Sally pulled the purple diaper up between Jordan’s still spread legs and centered it before carefully and securely fastening each tab. She then patted Jordan’s diapered tummy around her belly button and reached for the pajama bottoms.
“Here you are sweetie. Let momma help with your jammies.” With skill, love, and care, Sally threaded each of Jordan’s feet through the holes of her cotton pants as she still lie still on the bed. “Ok Jordie, can you hop up on your feet for momma?”
Sally put out both hands and helped Jordan sit up and then stand up in front of the bed. With her pants around her ankles and puffy diaper around her hips, Sally crouched down and reached behind, pulling the cotton flower printed pajamas up over her girl’s padded plastic bottom.
“Ok hands up sweet heart.” Jordan looked down and put her hands up in the air and Sally pulled from the bottom of her cotton t-shirt, removing it completely. Jordan began to reach for her bra clasp in back when Sally said, “Turn around Jordie and I’ll help you with that. She did and Sally gently undid the eye hooks and pulled the straps from the girl’s shoulders. “Hands up again darling.” From behind this time, Sally eased Jordan’s matching tank top over her head and smoothed it down.
“There. Perfect. All ready for bed. Momma loves you sweetie.” Sally patted Jordan on the butt and turned her around before hugging her tenderly. The girl sighed almost inaudibly.
The diapered Girl, still as if in a trance, softly padded down the hall with her mother in pursuit, arms full of dirty clothes and diaper rash creams. Jordan entered her room quietly and Sally followed, setting the stuff in her arms down near the side of the bed. The diapered teen crawled into her bed noiselessly and Sally tucked her in before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapped the palm of her hand around Jordan’s cheek and ever so softly stroked and patted it.
It was only then that she noticed the tears streaming down her little girl’s face. Sally’s motherly intuition knew they were tears of relief, of gratitude….of peace. And so she leaned in closely and whispered quietly over and over again, “Momma loves you so so much my darling. Momma loves you so much. Momma loves you so much.”
The tears continued to flow, and the girl in the diaper couldn’t help but allow the tiniest feelings of self-acceptance creep into her heart for so loving the experience that had just taken place.
I was so scared it wouldn’t ever be the same again, she thought.
As her mother continued to tenderly touch her cheek, she quickly drifted into unconscious sleep.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 13, 2014 at 1:08 AM
Content: CHAPTER 36 – [Monday, April 15, 2002]
The sounds at 11:37pm could’ve awoken the dead.
Shrieks and screams, crashes and bangs, slams and stomps. Each were clearly audible in the hallway, in the stairwell, even in the elevator shaft. Their incredible volume and ferocity unrelenting into the night. Melissa’s neighbors’ knocks on the door had been met by cold obliviousness and the police that had been summoned so far had apparently had more important calls to take that night.
Inside, the scene was intense. Melissa alternated from sitting on the couch to standing to trying to slow her boyfriend from his furious and relentless march through the apartment as he searched for court papers.
“WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT WAS GONNA COME OUT ANYWAYS?” He bellowed as he walked out to stand in the open bedroom doorway, glaring at Melissa in the living room.
“Ted. Really. Someone was gonna say something at some point and questions were gonna be asked.” “BY WHOM MELISSA?! WHO?! TELL ME! WHO?! WHERE WAS THIS INFORMATION TO COME FROM!!” She remained silent.
“THAT’S MY FUCKING DAUGHTER MELISSA! AND IT’S HER PRIVATE LIFE! IT’S GONNA BE DRUG THROUGH THE COUTS ON PARADE LIKE SHE’S A ZOO ANIMAL IN A CAGE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Melissa stood up and walked toward Ted. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me you ungrateful prick. Love….LOVE is what’s wrong with me. I did it for you Ted. I did it for us. And if you can’t understand that, you’re dense.”
Ted shook his head in shock, “For someone so damned driven to work with the poor, you sure lack common empathy.” The words seethed off his mouth and he turned away, back to his task of searching.
Melissa began yelling herself, following Ted into the bedroom, “WELL IF YOU ASK ME TED, GETTING YOUR ‘DAUGHTER’,” at that she put up air quotes, bent her knees, and gave a mocking wiggle of her body (all of which Ted didn’t see), “…OUT OF THAT ABUSIVE SITUATION WOULD BE THE MOST EMPATHETIC THING ANYONE COULD DO!! SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR HIGH HORSE!” She turned and walked back into the living room, slamming the bedroom door.
The words stung Ted, despite his anger at the situation. On Monday morning, his lawyer had informed him of he and Melissa’s private conversation almost two weeks prior and of his formal discovery of Ted’s daughter’s medical records. They had been entered as evidence in the court proceeding.
“I have to tell you Ted,” Mr. Harris had said, “I’ve reviewed some of the notes from Jordan’s medical records that we subpoenaed for the case and from what I’ve read, it’s pretty shocking. Your wife sounds like a real crackpot if you ask me. Didn’t you know she is forcing your thirteen year old to wear diapers like a toddler? And she’s doing all the changings? That’s way outside the realm of what anyone would consider ‘normal’. I honestly don’t know why the doctors didn’t call her in earlier. Between Melissa’s sworn statement and these records, I didn’t have much of a choice but to do it myself. Child Protective Services has already opened a file.” He had spoken with a clear slant toward earning his client custody of his children and intended to bleed the turnip dry.
A bolt of what felt like electrical shock had jolted through Ted’s body at the lawyer’s words in his cozy downtown office. He had been far too numb to feel rage. Instead, he first felt surprise and shame that he had been politically outmaneuvered and surprised for the second time in less than two months. But beyond that, the very suggestion that what Sally had been doing with Jordan could’ve possibly been (in actuality) abuse, was beyond absurd in Ted’s mind. The lawyer’s intent seemed insane, irresponsible, and a massive stretch. But he immediately knew the potential implications of the accusation – and was worried about how an outsider might interpret the ‘evidence’.
Rapidly though, his shock did turn to Anger and he had screamed at Melissa (who was at the appointment with him) about the agreement they had made to leave Jordan’s medical condition out of the divorce proceeding. He yelled and demanded that Mr. Harris strike the records as evidence from the case. But the fact of the matter was that because CPS had now been included, it was out of all of their control. Even if Ted wanted to change his original course about extra child-support and the school bill, the ball was out of his hand. It seemed as though the best possible outcome for his kids and soon-to-be ex-wife was in doubt.
He left the bedroom door remain closed without offering the Auburn-haired adulteress the dignity of a response to her insults.
How could I have possibly done this? I’ve destroyed everything. All I’ve ever wanted to do is make the world a better place…help people who are less fortunate, get them on their feet, show compassion where no one else thinks it’s deserved. But all I’ve done with my own family – my own girls – is consistently screw up. I’ve traded my birthright for a pot of stew. And it’s pretty crappy stew.
Ted began to weep as he pulled his two suitcases from the closet by the master bathroom; the same two he had used to move into Melissa’s Belltown apartment.
I’ve got to start making the right decisions at some point. He steeled his resolve as he cried, And this is as good of time as any. Moving here is a wrong decision I’ve needed to correct since I made it.
It didn’t take him long to pack his suits, shoes, clothes, and knick-knacks. Ted made the decision that whatever was left would be left and it was worth the expense to get out as soon as possible. It had been only about 20 minutes since Melissa had slammed the door and when he opened it wearing his coat, briefcase slung over his shoulder, holding one suitcase, and tugging another behind him, Melissa’s eyes widened.
“Oh put your shit down Ted, you and I both know you’re not going anywhere.” She said standing up from the couch.
“Melissa, it’s over. We’re done. I’m moving out tonight.” He said walking through the door and heading to his left down the hall toward the door.
“Oh knock it off Ted. Quit the show. You and I both know you can’t hack it without a woman to give you orders.” She stepped out to glare down the hall at his back.
He didn’t respond.
“Ted!”
He continued to walk, reaching for the door handle.
“TED!”
He opened the door.
“Ted get back here! You can’t just walk out like this! You can’t just leave me! YOU NEED TO GIVE ME SOME KIND OF EXPLANATION HERE!” She put her hands on her hips and screamed as if the past two hours of conversation about Ted’s daughter hadn’t just taken place.
“Haven’t you taken enough from me Melissa?” he calmly asked as he stepped into the outer corridor. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? TED! What did you EVER give to me?” She flailed and screamed a stream of obscenities, her makeup running and hair a mess.
He didn’t respond but continued to walk down the hall toward the elevator. As she screamed, more than one neighbor poked their heads out their doors with irritation and confusion on their faces.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” She pleaded as he stepped backward into the elevator.
Just before the doors closed he reached his foot out to stop them.
Ted paused for a second and without missing a beat, he caught her green eyes and uttered, “You’re fired.”
The doors closed and Ted made his way into the night.
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[Tuesday, April 16, 2002]
Sitting in the courtroom at the Seattle King County Superior Courthouse in downtown Seattle late in the afternoon, Sally felt exposed. She sat in a black swivel chair on the left side next to her lawyer and Ted was on the right with Mr. Harris, Melissa was nowhere to be found. All four looked up to the Judge who sat in front of a wood clad wall and just under a medallion of the seal of the state of Washington.
As the Judge spoke about the process the divorce case would take, he expressed his grave concerns about the allegations Ted and his lawyer had raised regarding Sally’s parenting. At this, Ted had looked down in shame and in sadness – although he knew he hadn’t directly been the one to make the call, he knew he had created the whole mess from top to bottom and he felt rightly guilty. Sally, although not surprised that moment on Tuesday morning, had been nearly breathless the previous afternoon when she had heard the news from her lawyer.
“Mrs. Reynolds I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about your daughter’s medical condition before.” He had finally said after they had gone around and around in debate about the exact nature of Sally’s nightly care of her daughter and how Ted’s lawyer could potentially use the information to push for custody of the girls.
“Like I said Roger,” Sally replied exasperated, “it would’ve never occurred to me in a thousand years that the ways in which I’ve cared for my daughter’s medical condition could have POSSIBLY been construed as wrong or abusive.” Of course although her sentiment was true, in actuality it wasn’t. Just a few weeks earlier, Jordan’s urologist had caused Sally to second guess her nightly bedtime routine with Jordan. This, enough so that she had talked with her dear friend Jo Miller about it, who in turn had helped her make space for the reasonableness (and even need) of the practice. “How is it that my thirteen-year-old daughter’s medical records can just be dragged into public view willy-nilly like that anyways? Aren’t there laws that protect her?” Sally continued incredulously.
“Mrs. Reynolds, the records of a divorce proceeding aren’t public record per se and your daughters medical history won’t become public at all in any case. But they can be used as the basis for a judgment if they’re deemed relevant. In terms of court, if any of the information in the files needs to be openly discussed, we can request all irrelevant parties to vacate the courtroom (which we’ll do) in order to protect Jordan. But it’s perfectly normal in hotly contested divorce cases for all kinds of information about kids and childcare and parent style to be entered in as evidence. I’m really sorry Sally but this is fairly typical in dissolutions that are not amiable.”
Sally had looked out the window and shook her head in shock.
“This is part of why we try to get couples to solve their divorces in arbitration – without lawyers and everything. It gets really nasty really quick.”
Saying ‘I told you so’ isn’t very helpful, Roger. She had thought to herself but held her tongue.
“So what’s gonna happen then? How’s this gonna play out? Does he really have a chance of taking the girls from me?”
Roger Johnson, Attorney at law, sitting in his dated leather office chair in the heart of a strip mall near Lynwood in north Seattle had leaned back and thought for a moment before responding. “Well Sally, I have to be honest with you. This isn’t gonna be fun. My understanding is that CPS has already been called.”
“CPS!!” She had exclaimed before bursting into tears in her hands.
Roger Johnson wasn’t a particularly sensitive man but he also wasn’t heartless. He felt for his client and her situation even though he honestly questioned her judgment in the first place. After waiting several moments he had continued, “Listen Sally, I don’t think there is any basis for any criminal action against you. There just isn’t cause there. I mean, doctors are mandatory reporters and how many has Jordan seen since she started….having…this problem? Three or four? And none of them were alarmed enough to make a report against you. It wasn’t until Ted’s girlfriend initiated it last week that anything even happened on that end. And clearly she has dubious ulterior motives on the table. Perhaps what you’ve been doing to your thirteen-year-old might be considered odd (or even indicative of poor judgment in the judge’s eyes) – and perhaps…perhaps…enough for him or her to justify awarding custody of your kids to Ted. But that would be the extreme in my estimation. You’re not going to be charged with a crime here Sally.”
Sally had cried out in grief, “But how could they possibly give my girls to that bastard?! He only cares about himself! All his conniving decisions are for himself! He manipulates everything to serves his whim! He’s no father! He’s no Daddy! How can they possibly say he can take better care of them than me!?” She had cried out, but no one other than Roger Johnson was listening.
Indeed, as Sally and Ted sat in the courtroom that Tuesday morning in April, both had cringed when the words “Child Protective Services” rolled off the judge’s tongue and she glared down at the diminutive black-haired woman. Sally simply looked back in shock and confidence before turning to her estranged husband. He immediately averted his gaze full of self-disgust.
When the hearing ended, Sally got up to leave and Ted remained seated at his table. As she passed by, he glanced up almost by accident, expect her to have already passed. She noticed the dark red circles around his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks. Apparently as he had been looking away for the last portions of the hearing, he had been crying.
This made her instantly furious and she couldn’t contain it. With the judge making her way out the door but still in courtroom, Sally set in on Ted.
“What would YOU ever have to cry about Ted?! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU! You have no right to cry on this day!” She was crying now along with him. “You know it’s a lie. You know. Why would you do this! Why?”
All he could blubber out were awkward gasps, “…Melissa…sorry…not my fault…not what I…wanted…sorry…Melissa…over”
“You would blame someone else wouldn’t you? You bastard. You would pass the blame. You would dump the responsibility. You would let someone else do your dirty work. How the FUCK are you gonna even raise our daughters after you manipulate them out of my home? Our Home?” Sally looked deranged as she cross-examined Ted off the record in the aisle. The Judged stood in the doorway to her chamber, watching in shock. Normally composed, Mrs. Reynolds had lost it.
He continued to try to respond in halting language, “…Sal--…I…Sorry…not my…Melissa…”, as Roger Johnson pushed Sally from behind forcing her toward the rear door.
“Sally it’s time to go now, you need to calm down. This isn’t helping.” He said.
The woman continued to scream and offer threats as she worked her way toward the back of the room and out the door.
Ted looked haggard and spent.
Both Reynolds’ had been thrown into a river over which neither had control.
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Back in Ballard that evening, Jordan had been in charge of childcare for a couple hours before her mom made it home. Jo Miller, unable to step in herself because of an important date set ahead of time with her husband, had picked up Jen and Mindi and dropped them off under their older sister’s care. It had been the first time in pretty much Jordan’s whole life that she was ‘queened’ as baby sitter and she hadn’t been terribly fond of the title. Jo and Sally had both told the teenager that the reason for the emergency role was simply “an important meeting” and nothing more. Jordan didn’t know if it was something to do with her Dad, or the man on the moon, although she suspected the former.
Surprisingly, Jen and Mindi had behaved well, played amicably, and actually had already eaten before they arrived. So Jordan’s job was relatively peaceful. However, she was relieved to see her mom march through the door at almost 7 o’clock at night and more than ready to turn the responsibilities over to her.
It hadn’t happened as she had hoped however.
“Hi Mom!” Jordan, followed by her two sisters, cheerily greeted their mother as she opened the back door into the kitchen. She didn’t respond immediately.
Jordan quickly noticed the makeup on her face that had run and the redness around her eyes.
“What’s wrong momma?” Mindi immediately asked running to Sally.
“Yeaw mommaw? Wuats wong?” Jen chimed in following suit.
They hugged their mother’s legs and she patted their backs.
“Oh mommy’s just tired girls. Mommy’s just tired.”
“Mommaw tiwerd” Jen parroted back.
Jordan walked over to the party of three in the kitchen and caught her mother’s eyes. They looked weathered and worn – not much left to give.
“Jordie dear I need you to help me tonight.” The girl could feel her heart sink a touch but she tried her best to understand.
“Ok?” Jordan responded.
“Get Jen ready for bed please. I need a few minutes alone.” She gave each of the three a quick hug. Said goodnight. And without a word of thanks for Jordan’s evening babysitting gig, shut her bedroom door, not to reappear until the next morning.
Jordan hadn’t felt as alone as she had that night since the previous fall when her parents were fighting and at each other’s throats. The previous night hadn’t been a barrel of monkeys either – her mom had been a little more short and snippy than usual and far less tender with her touch. Their usual regimen took all of about one and a half minutes instead of its usual 5 or 10 minute spread. But on this Tuesday night, Jordan was genuinely mystified, hurt, and frightened. But she never-the-less did her best to put her siblings to bed — and, as she had done so many times in Washington D.C., got herself ready in the bathroom as well.
It had to have been something to do with Dad, she thought as she lie in bed that night, why else would mom possibly be so upset? Little did Jordan know that many things were about to change.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 17, 2014 at 3:53 PM
Content: Chapter 37 – [Friday, April 19]
The confluence of tax time, her first divorce hearing before the judge (complete with the out-of-control tirade in the aisle), and the revelation that Jordan’s medical records (and therefore the question of her parenting) had been entered as evidence, had thrown Sally nearly over the edge of her ability to cope. She had begun smoking cigarettes again for the first time in over 15 years on Wednesday that week. And as the week from hell wore on, she looked increasingly nervous, jittery, and tired. She wasn’t sleeping much, if at all. And she seemed to be rapidly losing the maternal patience she had picked up for her girls since 9/11.
Rather than sitting at their usual table at the coffee shop, Jo had suggested they just take a drive together in her Mercedes on that Friday afternoon – it had seemed like the best idea after Sally had broken into sobs after just laying eyes on her friend who had become so dear. Once in the luxury SUV, Sally had continued to cry for a while and then simply sat quietly gazing out the window. The dominant emotion she felt as Jo drove her in meandering circles through Fremont was fear.
Jo could smell the nicotine on her friend. She knew from years ago that Sally had toiled with getting off cigarettes and that it had been a big secret for the churchgoing leader. The bags under her eyes, her apparent despondency, her overall disheveled look, along with the telltale odor confirmed that something bad had happened at the court hearing that week.
After they had looped in and around old houses and new condos up the hill away from the lake for about 15 minutes, Jo finally broke the ice. “I just want you to know Sally, I’ll always be here with you. I know I don’t know what happened. But Bob and I aren’t going away. No matter what.”
This caused Sally to convulse into more weeping before she finally was able to pull herself together enough to talk; about 5 minutes later. The two had wound their way up around Green Lake and then over toward the shore of the sound near BCS.
Sally finally was able to push out, “They’re…invest…igat…ing…me…*SNIFFF*…for… child abuse!...” before she fell back into sobs of shame and regret and despair.
Jo was horrified and shocked herself. A million questions passed through her mind that she knew would not be helpful to throw onto her friend’s mind at that instant but she didn’t understand how what she thought she had heard could be possible.
“What Sally? You? Child abuse? Like CPS? Ted did this?” she tried to keep her voice from sounding frantic.
“YEEEESSS!” Sally bleated like a lamb and cried more, snot running down her face and hands shaking. “He’s…t…t….trying…t….t…to….ta…..take….m…mm…. my….b …a…a….b …babies!” She blurted out and continued crying.
Jo couldn’t help herself but to be absorbed a little into her friends drama. Tears began to streak down her face. “I don’t understand Sally. What are they accusing you of? What could you possibly have done? I mean, if anything, Ted’s been the one who’s neglected your kids.”
Sally’s crying quieted slightly, “…Jordie…..the…dia…pers….” she whispered almost as if she really was ashamed of it; almost as if she believed the allegation’s veracity.
Immediately, Jo’s mind tracked back to all the conversations that she and Sally had had about her daughter and the variety of strategies the Mom had employed for dealing with her bedwetting. She thought about one of their most recent visits there in Tremont where she had convinced her friend that the therapeutic aspects of the ways in which she had been caring for her girl was a sign of ‘good’ parenting, not at all poor. But now, Jo immediately couldn’t help but second guess herself and she felt guilt and self doubt.
Did I lead her astray? Did I tell her the wrong thing? Am I complicit in this? I don’t think she’s done anything wrong but you never know in the government’s eyes…could I be responsible for creating this?
“Oh I’m so so so Sally. Oh my God I’m so so sorry.” Her eyes were full of tears and she could hardly see the road. She had to pull over. “I would’ve never dreamed something like this could’ve happened. I’m so sorry Sally. I’m so so sorry.” She kept repeating it over and over again, gazing off into nothingness.
Sally continued to cry for a long time before she finally broke both of their states of sadness and shock.
“I need a smoke.” She opened the door and hopped out on the curb. A blunt statement like that would’ve normally been tainted with shame, but Sally seemed emotionally raw and bleary. They were near the seaside town of Edmonds at that point, way up north near the ferry terminal. Sally hopped out of the car, pulled a pack of Newports from her purse, and lit one up, taking a long first drag with eyes closed. Jo waited in the car for a moment, sort of in shock by the shift that had seemingly taken place in her friend.
Finally Jo got out and sat next to her on the sidewalk bench.
“I know I quit a long time ago – I just couldn’t handle this – my hands were shaking – I felt like I had electric wires attached to my head that were keeping me awake and alert 24/7. I had nowhere to turn; no one could help me; God wasn’t answering the door.” She took another drag on her cigarette and held it before blowing the smoke behind her into the wind. “I’m sure you can smell it on me already right?”
“Yeah. It was pretty obvious.”
“Look, you don’t need to apologize to me Jo.” Sally said suddenly several degrees more calm, looking her friend in the eye. “I chose this path (or this path came to me.) It’s not your fault. You’ve been incredibly good to me, and such a gracious and faithful friend. Don’t take any of this on yourself.”
Jo nodded, tears still on her cheeks.
“I’m not sure if I did or didn’t do anything wrong Jo…I just don’t know. All I was doing was being a mom for my girls. For Jordan. I was doing what I thought she needed me to do and it was apparently helping her. The first and only time any alarm bell was wrung against me was when jealousy and selfishness got involved. The doctors may have thought it a little odd – and we talked about that – but they would’ve HAD to call me in if they thought I was being abusive. They didn’t. It was that bitch Melissa who did it I’m sure — and it was Ted who brought her into our lives.” She took another puff, seemingly calming further.
Jo continued to sit quietly, gazing into the sound and the coming ferry.
“I just don’t know what I’m gonna do Jo. I’m not sure if I can bring myself to continue doing the nightly routine with Jordan with all this other stuff hanging over my shoulders…I mean, I know how much it helps her. I know how she needs it…really. But what will Mindi and Jen say if they get investigated? What if CPS comes into the house and tries to interview them? What if they see all her supplies or insist on seeing what we do for a nightly routine? I don’t know if I can do it anymore with the accusation of abuse dangling over me like a giant blue flashing light.”
Jo finally spoke up, looking back at her friend. “I see what you mean Sally. You’re in a tough spot. Not to mention you’re in an incredibly difficult and stressful time in general. I mean, divorce is hard as it is. Then add childcare, your two other little girls, working full time, trying not to get screwed by that shark of a man, Ted. You’ve got a lot of drama, you might not have much extra to give Jordan right now anyways – let alone an investigation.” “Yeah? That’s ok?” Sally asked, lighting up a second cigarette feeling slightly ashamed but knowing how much more calm she felt after the first.
“You’re the only one who’s gonna advocate for yourself Sally. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re never gonna be able to take care of your kids going forward. Period.”
Jo let that sink in for a moment as Sally took another drag trying to blow her smoke away from her friend.
“That might mean that maybe you need to stop doing the nighttime diapering thing for right now…at least you yourself. Maybe Jordie just needs to just take care of herself for a little while? If CPS starts coming to your house, Jordan is smart enough to figure out what’s up soon enough. It’ll be hard on her but this is gonna be hard on all of you all… If you just keep plowing a head though Sally and you don’t look out for yourself, you might end up doing something alarming that might make those idiot child-watchers actually want to take your kids away! And that’d be terrible. You just need to get through this season, let Ted get shown for what he is. Let the CPS people do their thing. You have nothing to hide. It’ll all work out.”
The recollection of her court-room tirade that Tuesday came to mind and she felt fear once again. “I think you’re right as usual Jo. I think you’re right. I know I can do this. Thank you.”
Jo’s words were therapeutic (so was the smoke and the tears). Sally could feel herself calming. They talked for another hour all told between the park bench and the car ride back to Sally’s car in Fremont. She drove home steeled and ready as she’d ever be.
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Ted had been routinely asking Jordan to come for a visit ever since the disaster weekend in December, but she had almost universally refused his requests. However, something in his mannerisms that Friday night when he came to the house to pick up her sisters softened her heart a little so that when he made his predictable appeal, she curiously decided to accept the dinner date with he and her siblings. As had been the case the night of the first hearing that Tuesday, Jordan was again left home alone to babysit her sisters for a couple hours in the late afternoon and evening (on this occasion, they had been picked up and dropped off by Bob Miller with Alex in tow).
“Where’s the Mercedes?” she asked her Dad looking out the front window to the street where Melissa’s fancy car always sat waiting when he picked her sisters up.
“Oh…um…well, Melissa isn’t gonna be able to make it tonight…so…I picked up a rental.” It was a Ford Focus, this little compact thing that looked like a pregnant roller skate.
Jordan raised her eyebrows. “Hmmm. Ok Dad.”
She helped him gather up Jen’s bag of equipment and the three shuffled out the door.
In the car, Ted asked the younger girls about their weeks and about what had been happening at school. He seemed both chipper and…sad…to Jordan. It was weird. But she also had pretty much only seen and interacted with him when he showed up at the house to pick up her sisters or on the rare occurrence when he called her.
“I heard your story on NPR last weekend Jordan.” She heard him say as they pulled on to Hwy 99 headed north (which seemed odd to the teenager).
“Oh yeah?” She asked a little suspiciously.
“Yeah. It came on after that funny live music show with the guy who sings about biscuits and Minnesota. I was amazed Jordan, the way you spun that thing was really really remarkable. I honestly had no idea you were so talented.”
She didn’t say anything but felt a little miffed by his lack of sensitivity. She made a face but didn’t say anything.
Will he ever not be a buffoon? Will he ever just be sweet and kind and thoughtful and make me feel like he’s proud of me? She thought.
“Sorry…I didn’t mean it like that honey…”
“No…It’s fine…” she replied shortly, not wanting to get in it with him but honestly feeling a little hurt.
“I mean, you are an amazing writer Jordan. Truly. I stayed up late on Sunday night to hear it a second time when they ran the show again. What I meant was that I probably was so caught up in my own life that I never realized how gifted you actually are. You should be proud of yourself.”
His mind went back to the previous Sunday when it had come on the radio. Hearing his daughter’s name the first time didn’t strike him as particularly unusual but fairly rapidly he had realized that that was indeed the story for which she had won the trip and all the hullabaloo. He listened intently and when the fake live-audience applause set in at the end of the reading, he cried sitting there in Melissa’s car. He cried big tears of regret and self-doubt, and shame for all that had taken place during the season she had written it.
The vote for his job had at that point had still really shaken him up and he still felt uneasy as well as gratitude for what he perceived to have taken place…let off under a pardon of grace led in part by Jordan’s English teacher. Sure, he had been the one to lead the charge against him in the first place, but in coming to his senses, Ted felt vindicated and accepted and wanted to pay the goodness forward to others.
When he had heard the second recording of Jordan’s story later that night in the apartment with Melissa, she had gone to bed early while he finished and he had wept yet again; this time for what he had missed out on specifically with is daughter. She is such a talented and creative and unique and amazing human being and I’ve been so focused on helping other people and growing the center that I’ve missed out on so much of her life. He had thought to himself in humiliation.
Back in the car at April Friday Night, after Ted clarified his compliment, Jordan felt a little guilty for getting so hot under the collar with him then.
She said, “Really? Wow Dad. You listened to it twice on the same day? What was your favorite part?”
“Well, I think I’ve gotta say, the part I liked the best was when the boy, Isaac right? When Isaac finally is able to convince his dad to help the aliens off the planet. That dialogue was just genius – it was perfect and so realistic and just captured exactly what their relationship had been about – it was almost like a test. Isaac wanted to see if his dad was really there for him or not. And even though he had felt like he had been let down, he came through.”
They both sat silent in the car for a few minutes after that before Mindi interjected something random about her friend who brings spaceship fruit snacks to school in his lunch every day, and how he won’t share them. The two were grateful for the break in tension that took their minds from obvious subplot behind Jordan’s original text.
Despite her anger for her Dad in all he’d done, she felt surprised and happy he’d taken the time to do this one small thing. I still don’t trust him, she thought, but it does seem like he actually tried this time, which is a change.
She couldn’t help but think about the way in which (she believed) he had blackmailed Mr. Johns to maintain the status quo at Hope. It made her feel disgusted almost immediately and the feelings of affection passed. He’s so incredibly good at playing people and getting what he wants though. The chances are high, he’s still just trying to mess with me right now. She thought.
Jordan wondered to herself as they bumped North down the road toward ‘God only knew where’, if she ought to confront him on it and let him know that she was in on his nastiness. But in the dark of the night, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
And what would be the point anyways? She reasoned. To just let him know yet another way in which he’s disappointed me?
“So where are we going anyways?” Jordan finally blurted out.
“Oh I wanted to take you to this pizza place used to go to when I was in college – up here in Everett.”
“Whoa! Jeez Dad. Is this like mid-life crisis, relive your 20’s night or something?” She felt bad as soon as she said it but her anger at Ted had been building.
To his credit, he took the mild jab in stride. “Yeah, maybe something like that.”
Once in the restaurant and after having been served with a large deep dish pepperoni and pineapple pie (the joint had the style of racks that held pizzas elevated off the table), Ted after telling a bunch of stories about people from the shelter that week along with jokes to go with them (making his younger girls hoot and laugh) got a little more serious.
“I want to tell you girls something so listen for a second. I wasn’t totally honest about Melissa not being here tonight.”
Oh great, another lie. Thought Jordan.
“The truth is that Melissa and I broke up. We’re no longer together. And she doesn’t work at Hope Seattle anymore either.”
Mindi and Jordan became wide eyed and looked up surprised, Jen grasped what he had said but didn’t give the same kind of emotional reaction.
Mindi asked, “Kind of like you and Mamma?”
Holding back his pride, Ted said, “Well, sort of I guess. Yes.”
“Does that mean you’re gonna work things out with mom?” Jordan looked at him with ice and daggers and many other sharp objects in her eyes.
He cleared his throat, stalling for a moment. “Um…no…I don’t think so sweetie. Sometimes things happen that are too painful to resolve fully. It’s possible…I guess…but…unlikely I’d say…”
“So what happened with…Melissa?” Jordan asked with some incredulity.
“I’m not going to go into details about it but I think I started to understand her for who she is – and being with her is just not who I am or who I want to be.” He looked Jordan in the eyes. “I’m sorry for the way she treated you Jordan. And I’m sorry for not standing up for you.”
A bolt of energy shot through Jordan. The words from her dad were shocking. Not only was the fact that Melissa was gone an unbelievable (and welcome) revelation, but her Dad had just apologized to her for something he had done to hurt her – in an accurate and contrite way. She was confused.
What the hell is happening here? Is this for real? What’s he trying to get from me? Why would he break up with that woman? I hate her so much – why would he give me that gift? And…she fought back tears…he actually realized that he hadn’t stood up for me? He knew how painful that was? God Dad!
A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t want what he said to be as meaningful as it apparently was. But it was. She couldn’t speak.
“Whatever happens, I just want you to know that I love you all and that you mean the world to me.” He looked each of them in the eyes. “We’re going to make it work. No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”
Dad! What the hell are you talking about? What is going on? Jordan thought. But it would be weeks before she or her sisters would be let in on the drama that had ensued between her father and mother – or the truth of Ted’s assumed involvement in blackmail bid on Mr. Johns’ job.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 22, 2014 at 11:53 PM
Content: Chapter 38 – [Saturday, April 20, 2002]
Despite Jordan’s newfound babysitting responsibilities, she had still found time over the couple of weeks since spring break to show up at two BCS Track Meets. With all the stress in Jordan’s eventful 7th grade campaign, she had hardly made it to more than a half dozen of Alex’s sporting events all year. But as an added bonus that spring, just as her best friend had promised, Joey Michael been there competing as well.
At the track meet the week of her parents’ divorce hearing, Jordan had strolled around on the field soaking in the different events and laughing and talking with Riley, Cindy, and Georgia. They had made signs for both Alex and Joey; and when Joey ran the 200m race, the three ‘girlfriends’ (along with Alex) had pushed Jordan to the forefront holding a sign with Joey’s name emblazoned on it. When he had crossed the finish line in first place in his heat, the four had screamed wildly. The young athlete had almost tripped looking over his shoulder back at the tall wonder holding the cardboard celebration.
After his 4x100m race, Joey had wandered over to Jordan (who had strategically been abandoned by Riley, Cindy, and Georgia; Alex had been prepping for another event at that moment) and had tried to ‘play it cool’. Jordan’s heart had pounded incredibly hard and she had felt grateful that it was a little sunny in the early Seattle spring – which could account for her cold sweat. Neither had talked about anything meaningful in their awkward conversation, or even that they particularly had more than a platonic interest in each other; but it had been simply exhilarating nonetheless. And it hadn’t been entirely unproductive either, the two had set a ‘date’ to meet up with friends at the mini-mart in Jordan’s neighborhood the coming Saturday.
When Jordan had returned to her small pack of friends, they had buzzed with questions and frenetic Jr. High hormonal energy. “Jordan! You’re so lucky! What did he say?” Cindy exclaimed.
“Yeah Jordan, tell us!” Georgia had chimed in.
“You guys were so cute together.” Riley had smiled and twisted her hands and body together and fluttered her eyes. The four were giddy with excitement for their friend.
Jordan had felt slightly embarrassed to be such a spectacle during her first genuine romantic interaction of her life. But she also was flattered to have such seemingly genuine support and camaraderie.
“Well…he said he thinks I’m cute and he told me again that he really thinks I’m talented at writing. He asked me if I think he’s fast.” She smiled brightly, “And of course I told him he was very fast.”
Each of her friends hung on her words and gleamed intensely.
“What else Jordan?” Riley asked.
“He asked if I wanna go get something to drink with he and Aaron Saturday…at the mini-mart in our neighborhood.” Jordan said, her eyes still bright.
“A DATE!” Cindy exclaimed.
The tall girl with the long brown hair had smiled again, but this time more shyly. “So who wants to come with me?” Her hazel eyes had looked up.
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In the end, Alex and Georgia had been elected as the chosen entourage (primarily because they were the only ones free) to go along as well as to prepare her ‘look’ for the big event. Late Saturday morning, Jo Miller picked Jordan up at her house and drove both she and Alex to the Yates’ home.
Once at the familiar mini-mart deli, the group of six friends flirted and played, laughed and caroused, and generally made a scene. For a six-foot-tall introverted author, Jordan had a great time and she could tell that Joey clearly liked her. The whole time they sat together around the deli-tables eating junk food and drinking, he kept bumping into her with his shoulder when he laughed and she knew he didn’t have bad balance. It was a new feeling – but a good feeling —to have that kind of touch with another person. And especially a boy who had the same feelings for her.
However, Jordan also couldn’t help but feel pangs of self-doubt throughout the hormone-festival as well. On more than one occasion, she felt fear rise within her that if this wonderful group of people who genuinely seemed to like her and celebrate her presence in their lives, found out about her diapers, they would all abandon her quicker than she could blink.
Without letting on, her mind spun, if Joey only knew about my ‘problem’ he’d hate me. He’d never want to go out with me – he’d think I was so sick and disgusting. He (and for that matter all these people except maybe Alex) only likes me because he only knows the good things about me.
The “date” had ended a little bitter sweet with these kinds of thoughts for Jordan. Joey had smiled widely at her and even given her a hug (which was a big deal in the grand scheme of BCS Jr. High culture). They had agreed to sit together at lunch the following week and Jordan promised to come to his next ‘home’ track meet, which was a little a little over a week away. She felt excited, overwhelmed, a little obsessed, and terrified all at the same time. Alex and Georgia had gathered around her and jumped up and down in glee after the boys had disappeared around the corner and up the street. From their perspective, everything had gone perfect.
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Sally had been surprised Jordan had gone to dinner with Ted and her sisters on Friday night and only discovered the decision after finding the house totally empty. Her daughter, who seemed to straddle aspects of womanhood and toddlerhood, had left a note on the counter. Sally herself had arrived home shortly after the girls had departed with their Dad as had been the plan, but she had assumed Jordan would’ve just stayed behind as had become custom for the girl ever since the fiasco with Melissa the previous December. She had later learned that Melissa was out of the picture from her younger girls who explained the strange absence of the adulteress’ Mercedes when Ted had dropped them off.
On Saturday evening, thoughts of the stress that woman caused Sally just over the past week made her blood pressure rise. Why can’t we just be left alone to live our lives? Why does she keep having to twist her long evil fingers into everything even after she’s supposedly gone? Sally thought.
Her mind floated back to Jo’s suggested strategy for talking with Jordan about why the teen needed to take care of her own diapering for a little while. The plan the two newfound friends had agreed upon was for Sally to explain to Jordan that because of all the additional work she was having to do to support the family financially, along with the added stress and time involved in working to prepare for divorce hearings, she just felt like she needed a break from the nightly output of energy and time – especially if she was going to be getting home later on a regular basis. In addition, Sally thought that she could mention the increasing tension between the younger girls and Jordan – and the obvious jealousy they were feeling for the immense amount of extra “mom” attention she was absorbing. Sally was unsure of whether or not Jordan could grasp this dynamic and was scared of being honest; but she new it wasn’t just an excuse.
Furthermore, Jo had told Sally that perhaps she could offer her daughter the “solution” that maybe in the future, once things cooled down for everyone, if she still “needed” help, she could start assisting again. But to suggest that it seemed like given everything they had talked about before the Washington D.C. trip, Jordan could probably handle it ok on her own for a while.
Sally had been dreading the talk from the moment she and Jo finished their conversation and had been slightly relieved to find the house empty. It gave her a bit more of a buffer to shower, change into pajamas, and get her wits about her before the conversation. She knew it needed to take place sooner than later and a Saturday night after Jordan had had an afternoon of fun with her friends seemed like as good of time as any.
Mother and daughter made nervous eye contact when Mindi excitedly and honestly asked her Mom the same question she had asked her dad about the two getting back together. Sally played it off in similar ways as Ted had. After the younger girls were in bed, Sally made her way to Jordan’s ‘new’ room where she seemed to be waiting for her nightly attire. Rather than ‘hopping to’, Sally sat on the bed beside her daughter.
Here goes. She thought with a sense of foreboding.
“How’re you doing Jordie? We haven’t really talked in a while. You ok?”
“I’m ok mom. Pretty tired. Long week.” She clearly didn’t want to talk; and really wanted to avoid her aberrant evening out with Ted.
“How’re you doing with the baby-sitting stuff I’ve had to ask you to do lately? Has that been alright sweetie?” Sally asked, not really knowing how to get the conversation going.
“Yeah. I guess. It’s not my favorite thing but I know there’s no other way sometimes.” Jordan said, sitting on the bed with her hands lightly gripping the edge of the mattress, shoulders hunched over.
“It’s not my ideal plan either; and I don’t want to add more stress to your plate. But I appreciate your willingness to step in. Things are gonna have to be a little different since your Dad and I are getting divorced. You probably don’t remember much about when I was working full time do you?”
A small burst of fear made its way through Jordan as she thought about changes. These small ones (the babysitting, the new bedroom, going with her Dad) had crept up on her in some sense. But she now felt some foreboding for what this conversation might be all about.
Jordan shook her head lightly in disagreement. She had been seven when her mom stopped working for good and she could remember having to go to the church-school daycare. But it was all she had ever known. The traumatic part was more about having to share her Mom with the new creatures that inhabited her house. Those crying, pooping and peeing, miniature people. “I remember some.” She said.
“Well to me it almost feels like another life away. Another time altogether. This is pretty strange now and I’m still trying to figure it out. Coming home late and finding the house empty for example – that’s weird.” Sally regretted the sentence after she had said it. She didn’t want her girl to feel guilty for going with her Dad even though she couldn’t have possibly been angrier with Ted.
As Jordan frowned, Sally quickly added, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound like criticism. I’m happy you decided to visit with your Dad…I hope some day you can forgive him…I hope I can too someday. All I was trying to say is that this is a new experience for me. That’s all.”
“I’m not sure why I even went Mom,” Jordan said sounding defensively, “It was just kind of impulsive. Maybe he seemed a little different or something. I dunno. And then after he said he broke it off with that idiot, well…maybe he was acting a little different. I think he tried to apologize too. It was so weird. I didn’t know what to do.”
What the hell? What are you up to Ted? What is going on? Sally thought, confused, assuming Ted was trying to manipulate Jordan as he appeared to be trying to manipulate the court.
Sally didn’t know how to respond, so she tried to steer the conversation. “So how was your little outing today? Who did you go with?”
Almost immediately Sally detected Jordan’s blush and the tall teen turned her face slightly to hide her embarrassment at her attraction to the opposite sex. Because of Jordan’s semi-secrecy about the event, Sally had assumed a boy must’ve been involved one way or another.
“Come’on now you can trust your momma can’t you? Who is he?” She smiled and so did Jordan.
“Well. If you must know. It was Joey Michael. And Alex and Georgia.”
“Joey from down the street? Oh he’s cute Jordan! Isn’t he on the basketball team?”
“Yeah. I went to Alex’s track meets this week and last remember? Well he’s on the track team too. And. Well. We decided to go hang out today.” She smiled again, embarrassed; starting to feel warm inside as she thought about Joey.
“So what do you like about him?”
Jordan went on at length to describe his dreamy qualities; his eyes and muscles; his social prowess and popularity; his athletic ability; the way he had noticed her on the bus and listened to her story – she could feel herself getting turned on although she was only moderately aware of those new physical processes.
“Wow. It sounds like you’ve thought a lot about this guy.” Sally reflected back, trying not to sound condescending to her teenage daughter’s infatuation, but also trying not to encourage it too thoroughly.
“Yeah. He’s just about perfect I think.” Jordan stopped for a moment to think before adding, “How do you know when you’ve met the one?”
Sally couldn’t help herself after a question like that. “Whoa Jordan dear! You’re thirteen years old. Let’s not get too far down the road or aisle here ok?”
“Mom!”
“Listen dear. Joey’s a great boy. And you’re a great girl. And you both are gonna make great partners for people someday. But that’s not gonna happen anytime soon. You’ve got a lot of life to live first. You’ve got a lot of school to go through first. Your Dad and I always agreed that we wanted you girls to be able to go on dates and have ‘boyfriends’ when you started to grow up a little – and you clearly are. But just have fun with it Jordie. Learn about how to get along with boys. Don’t take it too seriously.”
Jordan nodded, looking very serious. “I just…I just really like…I…I dunno…I don’t wanna be alone you know?”
“Well sure dear. No one does. But sometimes…sometimes…girls feel obligated or pressured to give too much of themselves to boys because they want safety or companionship or affirmation – and boys your age – even boys like Joey. They’re a lot less mature than most of you girls. And they will be for about 10 years.” Jordan chuckled and Sally smiled.
“So if you let them touch you or do things that you’re not really comfortable with – because you expect them to give you something like self-confidence or companionship back, you’re gonna be disappointed. Boys are just that. They’re still boys. Not quite men. They think with their penises a lot of the time.” “Mom!” Jordan shrieked in embarrassment, hearing the clinical term.
“Jordie I just want to be honest with you sweetie. I know we’ve talked about this stuff before, but I wanna talk about it again. A lot of boys will use you up if you let them. And a girl might get twitterpated or flattered by that kind of nonsense. But a woman who’s maturing sees through it. Some boys will take whatever you offer – they’re so full of hormones at this age that they can hardly help it. Some of them (and there’s no excuse for it) even try to take without asking…that’s why I don’t want you out walking at night – especially alone.”
Jordan nodded – now more gravely. “What if I want to do stuff too though?” She asked. “You make it sound like boys are the only ones that like touching. Girls like it too right?”
She’s right really…we always act like boys are the only ones who have sexual attraction. It probably makes us think that boys are some kind of monsters and girls ought to be pure petals of asexual loveliness. It sets almost everyone up to fail!
Sally responded, “Sure Jordan, girls like being touched too. It’s good. So you need to manage your impulses too. But it seems like boys are often the ones that focus on it more…that’s all. Have you and Joey…kissed? Or…touched…?” Sally asked uncomfortably but curiously.
“Mom!” “Jordan, I’m not trying to pry sweetie; or make you embarrassed. I just want you help you make good decisions that you won’t regret. Dating and boys and touching are really fun and exciting things. And when it’s so new like it is for you, it’s sometimes easy to do things you later wish you hadn’t. Now that you’ve been having your period for example, you’re able to have a baby.” Sally paused and turned her head, looking Jordan in the eyes. “Think about that Jordan. I know at school and at church and everything they say you shouldn’t have sex until you get married and your Dad and I agree with that. But some kids (Sally thought to herself, more like, MOST kids) don’t follow that advice and some girls end up pregnant at 15 or 16 because they do it stupidly and don’t take precautions. Can you imagine that? Having a baby at your age? You’d be faced with incredibly hard decisions and your baby would be faced with a tough life as well. Some girls who have kids that young don’t get to go to college or have a career; others end up depressed or addicted because they secretly can’t forgive themselves for giving their baby up for adoption. All because they didn’t think about these things before getting busy with their boyfriends.”
Jordan nodded, still silent.
“What do you think about any of this? Does any of it make sense? Or do you think your mom is just a crotchety old bat with no sense of fun?”
Jordan still sat slumping and silently gripping the edge of the bed. Eventually she spoke. “Mom. All I did was go out with friends to the deli. I feel like you’re accusing me of being some kind of…slut.”
Shoot. This is devolving…The poor thing feels attacked. Sally thought as Jordan finally started to pep up and talk a little.
“Jordie! No! Absolutely not. That’s not what I’m trying to do at all. I’m really sorry if that’s how I’m coming across. This is awkward for me as a Mom too.” She paused. “The main thing Jordie. Is that I want you to know that I love you no matter what; and that you can trust me to talk about anything you run into. It’s not that I’m going to be all upset with you or angry or disappointed if you make a mistake or don’t listen to my advice or whatever – it’s just that there are certain things in the area of sexuality that have major, life-altering consequences. Like – consequences not imposed by Mom or Dad, just from life and circumstance. Like if you don’t use protection or aren’t careful in other ways, you could end up with not just a baby, but a disease like AIDS or another STD. And those types of ‘consequences’ can stay with you forever or even kill you. And if you’ll trust me, we can talk about things and I can help give you wisdom as you make your own decisions with your own body. Ok?”
Jordan nodded. “Well…what…I mean…I’m not planning on having…s…sex with anyone….but…what…what do you mean by…protection?”
Jordie!? Jeez. This girl is so naïve! What the hell is wrong with her parents? Sally chided herself. “Sweetie, I mainly mean condoms. Have you heard that word before?”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh….well...yeah…I guess. But I thought only…like…prostitutes used those or gay men or something…?”
“No Jordie. Many different people use them. In fact, your Dad and I have used them at some points in our marriage.” A look of disgust came over the Teen’s face and Sally quickly recovered, “Listen I’m not going to go into details dear. Just…condoms are for everyone; they have many uses. Would you like to see one? I think I might have one around here someone.”
Jordan gave a slight nod and Sally got up to go to her bedroom. When she returned, she had several in her hand as well as a packet of birth control pills. Sally gave Jordan a full demonstration of how to use the accessory (complete with a banana) and an explanation of different forms of preventing pregnancy. The thirteen year old had remained in almost silent wonder (and still some embarrassment). Yet, feeling emboldened and undeterred, the mother pushed on greatly desiring to give her daughter a fighting chance of making good decisions for her sexual health; this conversation was a gift she herself had never received as a child.
Jordan started asking more questions – adolescent ones – about midway through the demo. How big penises get, what they look like (she only had sisters and so she really had very limited experience), what semen looks and smells and feels like, how much of it comes out, when women actually are “fertile”, what clitorises and orgasms are, how vaginas ‘lubricate’, what a ‘blow job’ is, and many others. Sally patiently and carefully answered them all in as age-appropriate of a way as possible.
“So what do you think is a good boundary right now for you – as a girl in Jr. High I mean? If you ended up with a boyfriend – like Joey or something? How far would be too far for you?” Jordan looked at her mom with awkward judgment.
“I’m sorry Jordie if this is weird. But if we don’t think about these things and make decisions ahead of time, it’s really really hard to make them in the moment. I mean. Couples do lots of things before they have intercourse.” She paused. “Sometimes by the time they get to that point, putting on a condom is the last thing they think about.”
Jordan nodded and then paused for a few seconds. “I want to wait until I get married – or at least until I’m with the person I’m gonna marry...before I have sex. I don’t want a baby or a disease either Mom.” She parroted back some of what she had been taught in her Christian education; and some of what she had heard Sally say. “I want sex to be special; with the person I’m gonna be with forever.”
“Anything else? I mean – during this stage of your life?”
Jordan laid back on her bed, scooting around so she was perpendicular to Sally who still sat on the edge.
Sorry sweetie. I’m not trying to make this painful. We just need to talk about it. Sally thought.
“I dunno Mom. Hold hands probably. Hug? I might wanna kiss a boy at some point… That’s about it right now I think.” She looked up to her Mom for approval as Sally looked back over her shoulder.
“Well I’m not trying to evaluate or give permission for whatever. But that seems like an appropriate set of boundaries to me at this time in your life.”
Jordan nodded slightly and yawned.
“Now I know you’re tired. But we need to talk about one more thing.” Sally looked back and Jordan turned her head. Their eyes met. “You know this has been a very difficult few months for me dear and I think it’s gonna become even heavier. My stress isn’t your responsibility. But just like you helped with babysitting some these past few weeks, my new work schedule and everything has some practical consequences. I’m just not home all the time anymore. And if I’m spending a half hour helping you with your diapers every night, I hardly have any time at all for your sisters. They’ve been behaving like they’re pretty jealous anyways – I can’t imagine you haven’t noticed – but If I just rush them off to bed every single night just so I can come take care of you, we’re gonna have world war three on our hands.”
Jordan was silent again.
“So listen. You obviously know how to put on your own diapers Jordie.” “Mom…I…I…I’m not…it’s…” she scrambled, embarrassed to talk about her afternoon activities.
“Jordie sweetie, it’s ok. I understand…kind of…I’m not saying you can’t do that. What I am saying is that I want you to get yourself ready for bed for a while…ok?”
Jordan had a bewildered look on her face.
“Now after all this stuff cools down and life goes back to normal, and you still feel like you need some help…you still need it for whatever reason…we’ll talk about it and I can start helping you some again. Ok sweetie?”
Jordan had a tear on her cheek – which caused Sally to respond in kind.
“I’m sorry honey. This is hard for me too. But I think it’s for the best for both of us.” Sally patted her daughter’s arm, kissed her forehead, bade her goodnight, and left the room. Jordan was reeling.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 29, 2014 at 6:05 AM
Content: Chapter 39 – [April 22, 2002]
Jordan awoke cold and wet. In the night, she had kicked off her covers unconsciously and had slept a good deal of a night with her bare wet diaper exposed. By the time the morning sun broke over the horizon, the wetness between her legs and under her butt was icy, firm, and uncomfortable. Momentarily forgetting her previous conversation with Sally about taking care of her own diaper needs for a time, she lay in bed for a while, waiting for her Mom to come rouse her and offer some snuggle time. It never happened. As the memory of their talk returned to her, old feelings of isolation did as well.
I guess things are back to how they were before then? Except at least Mom and Dad aren’t fighting and screaming in front of us all the time. Maybe I should’ve known the way mom was acting wouldn’t last forever.
The young teen put her hand down firmly on her soggy diaper and thought about Joey. Ever since he had invited her to go on the ‘date’ at his track meet the previous week, she had been experiencing new and exciting feelings of attraction – and particularly odd sensations of warmth and sensitivity in her diaper area (especially when she had one on). She didn’t realize that the kind of experimentation she had been doing after these stirrings was quite normal for all teenagers, male and female. But especially since her mom hadn’t really brought the topic of up in their awkward conversation over the weekend, Jordan felt particularly guilty about touching herself in those ways. Never the less, with all the newfound thoughts of attraction to Joey as well as thinking back about their date, that Monday morning the tall teenager couldn’t help herself.
A short while later, she was up, showered, dressed, and off to school.
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Amber and Nicole had been back to their usual tricks more and more since school began after spring break. The heat only intensified for Jordan as she and Joey became an item. During PE that morning, Amber ‘accidentally’ spilled her water bottle on Jordan’s duffle back next to her lower locker when she ‘tripped’ walking by. Almost all the contents poured out before Jordan could get it off. The seemingly wicked girl had offered a quick and surprised apology before running off out of the locker room – leaving the tall teenager to enter class late with large random splotches of wetness on her shirt and gym shorts.
Half way through class, Jordan’s teacher called her out of the game of softball they had been playing together and told her she had to go to the office. Thinking she was in trouble, her face immediately showed anger and injustice.
“Why? What’d I do?” She complained. “Nothing Jordan, I just got a message from the office that you need to go down there right now. Sorry.”
“Fine.” She griped as she turned to go back to the locker room.
“Jordan? The office?”
“OH? I can’t even get back into my school uniform?” She asked confused. “They said you were supposed to go right away.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and pointing toward the exit that led to the hallway.
The nearly six foot thirteen year old turned on her heels and marched past her class and PE teachers toward the office and something about which the consequences she wouldn’t come to learn for a long time.
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Once in the BCS school office, Jordan was ushered into the vice-principle’s office where she was told that a lady was there ‘to talk with her about her parent’s divorce’. Jordan consented with an immediate sense of foreboding. A woman whom she would later learn to know as Emma Smart walked in the door and introduced herself with a warm smile. She was young (20-something) and had dark hair, dark rimmed glasses, and a professional pant-suit. As it turned out, Emma was a social worker from the local branch of the Department of Social and Health Services, within which CPS operated.
“Hi Jordan, my name’s Emma. Do you mind if I sit down?”
Jordan shook her head and looked over at the vice principal, who stayed in the room.
“So how’s your day going? Sorry to have had to pull you out of class like this.”
“Um…it’s ok…just started really. This is kinda weird though. Why am I here?” the teenager replied with a little more defensiveness than she intended.
“Well, I wanna talk with you a little bit about your parents and what’s been happening at home. Is that ok?”
Confused, Jordan replied, “…well, Um…I guess…but why?” and she glanced back at the vice principal who gave her no sign of reassurance.
What is going on here? This is SO strange. She thought.
“I understand your parents have been split up for a little while…Do you get along with both of them pretty well Jordan?”
“Um…yeah…my Mom more than my Dad probably.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?” she asked prying for information.
Reluctantly, but feeling the pressure of the principal looking over her shoulder, Jordan went on to talk a little about the dynamic that had developed between she and her Dad in the couple of years before her parents separated. She talked about his work schedule; how he had been away so many evenings and in many ways seemed like he didn’t even know her. She talked about how her Mom had been very empathetic and kind to her during this season of life even though it had been very stressful.
When the woman asked about how Jordan coped with her stress, Jordan had become quiet and less willing to answer. It was a sensitive subject for the girl without a doubt, Emma could clearly see it. No matter how many ways she asked followup questions about it, the girl grew ever more unwilling to budge with specifics. Finally after what seemed like a dozen prods, Jordan relented that perhaps writing was one thing that helped her calm down and cope with life. The seventh-grader glanced up almost feverishly at the vice principal as she explained, a bead of sweat haven formed on her brow.
“What happens if you don’t write? Like – if you weren’t able to write for a couple months, what would happen?” Emma asked.
Yet again, Jordan locked down, unwilling to share anything more — let alone the secret that the social worker was getting at.
After about a half-hour of probing and additional small talk, the Emma Stone came to the belief that it was the other party in the room to whom Jordan was the most uncomfortable revealing details of her life. The social asked the vice principal if just the two of them could go on a walk around the school ball field together – he and Jordan agreed.
It was during this change of scenery that Emma eventually was able to get Jordan to talk about part of what had been reported to the agency: that she was a chronic bed-wetter. And after more conversation and some additional coaxing, Jordan finally hinted at her diapers as the ‘treatment’ for the bedwetting problem. But curiously to the social worker, didn’t indicate any sense of distress about this (except perhaps for what could be considered a normal desire for a teenage girl, to keep it secret). But beyond these acknowledgments, Jordan was unwilling to elaborate on her nightly routine with her mother, no matter how much Emma poked and prodded around the subject. Jordan didn’t know why exactly she was being asked all these questions and the more personal they became, the more unwilling she grew to be transparent. Despite the fact that she had come somewhat to grips with her enjoyment of diapers and her mom’s nightly routine with her – it was still something she felt ashamed about and it certainly wasn’t something she was going to talk about or admit to a perfect stranger. In Jordan’s mind, sharing any addition detail was the equivalent of sharing her whole secret; namely the fact that she liked diapers.
Near the end of their walk, Emma admitted that someone under whose care Jordan had once been, was concerned for her well being in that regard. This suggestion was a confusing one to the tall teenager who towered over the social worker.
Someone who has taken care of me is concerned? What the hell? It couldn’t possibly be Dad could it? A doctor or nurse? Why would someone not talk with Mom if they were concerned? It couldn’t be Mom could it? Did she set this meeting up? The whole line of thought struck her as super weird and she didn’t want to talk about it with this woman who had just shown up out of nowhere.
Little did Jordan know, but Emma also spent time interviewing her sister Mindi that day – who turned out to be far more eloquent and open about the events in the Reynolds’ household since Ted and Sally’s separation. Although she hadn’t personally witnessed a ton, she had seen enough to corroborate some of the essential details of Melissa’s initial report: “that Mommy and Jordan go in the bathroom alone together almost every night for Jordan to get her diaper on.” This, of course, had been entirely benign in actuality, but for the social worker, in the context of a report of suspected abuse, sounded like corroborating evidence – particularly coupled with Jordan’s silence.
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“So why did you get taken out of PE today? What the heck? Did you tell on Amber and Nicole or something for what they did to you in the locker room?” Alex asked Jordan as they sat on a concrete wall overlooking the playground eating their lunches.
“No. No. No. It was so weird. This lady showed up. Some kind of counselor or something. And she asked me all these questions about what’s been happening at home and how I’ve been… coping…”
“Hmm. What the heck? Why you?” “I dunno. But I wonder if it has something to do with…my…problem… Because she kept asking questions sort of about that. But of course I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the vice principal so we went outside…but still…it was super weird. I have no idea what it was all about.”
“Yeah…that’s odd Jordan.” She took another bite of her sandwich and looked out toward the field.
“So do you have another meet this year or was that the last one last week?” Jordan asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Oh, track? Yeah that was the last one. Pretty awesome you got there to watch JOEY before the season ended though eh?” She smiled and nudged Jordan with her elbow and bumped into her.
“Yeah for sure.” Jordan smiled. “Hey, so are you excited about camp? You’re still going right?”
“Yep! Paid in full. 10 weeks. You too right? I hope we get in the same cabin this year.”
“Of course. 10 weeks! I can’t wait! It’s gonna be awesome. Do you know if Joey is going?” Jordan asked.
“I’m pretty sure he is.” Alex smiled. “You really like him huh?”
All of a sudden Jordan acted a more demurely. “Well…I guess so…” she offered a smile.
“Oh yeah right, I saw how you giggled at all his stupid jock jokes at the deli last weekend. If Georgia or I were to have made half of those kinds of comments, you’d have rolled your eyes right out of the room. Admit it, you’re all hot and bothered by him!” Alex laughed and smacked Jordan playfully on her shoulder.
“Hot and bothered?” Jordan raised an eyebrow confused.
“Hot and bothered…like all flustered and warm when…someone…turns you on…you know?” Alex explained a little haltingly.
“Oh. Yeah. Well. I guess so.” She smiled awkwardly.
“Jordan! It’s a figure of speech! Jeez – try to spare me the details girl!” Alex laughed again and smacked Jordan a little harder.
“Oh. Well. Quit using all these crazy street, hip terms for everything.” She laughed again and then changed her tone. “I’m kinda worried about camp a little actually though. My mom is working now full time and that’s good but I don’t think my Dad has been helping with the bills at all. And the money for camp is due right away. Back after Christmas, my Dad said he would take care of it, but I know he hasn’t yet and I’m just worried it’s not gonna work out.”
“Hmm. Yeah. Bummer Jordan.” Alex looked at her friend before quickly replying, “I’m sure it’ll work out though. Things like these always do.” As if a simple proclamation like that would make everything ok.
Jordan felt bad as she thought about camp later that day. It was just over a month away from when it was supposed to start (June 9 was to be the kickoff) and there were dozens of details to figure out before that time, payment being the highest priority. Alex’s rather trite reply didn’t help Jordan’s stress level either. As a seventh grader herself, Alex wasn’t capable of deep levels of empathetic thought and Jordan herself wasn’t capable of putting herself in her friends shoes; that is, beyond the knowledge that money had never ever been an issue for her friend. It was all Jordan could do to not feel Jealous of the girl who seemed to have a life where everything had seemingly come together for her good – and who always had enough cash to finance her fun.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Jordan said reluctantly.
“So…have you started a new story or anything yet?” Alex asked, trying to change the subject.
“Well. Yeah. Actually. I have.” Jordan replied somewhat more cautiously than she had initially expected or even intended. Her book project wasn’t something she had been keeping a secret although her writing was also something that she hadn’t yet discussed mid-project.
“Oh. Well. What’s it about?” Alex asked trying to push the conversation along – not actually terribly interested in all the details of Jordan’s next piece of work.
“Um…I…well…it’s…” Jordan uttered and stammered.
“What? You don’t wanna tell me or something? What’s wrong?” Alex frowned.
“No. It’s just that…I…well…I just usually don’t share much…about my projects when I’m in the middle of them…it sort of like…takes some of the ‘zing’ out of getting everything done. I feel like it’d be harder to finish if I told everyone about it before I got done…”
“Oh…ok…hmmm…” Alex said still frowning. An awkward silence ensued.
Jordan finally spoke up. “I guess I could tell you a little.”
Alex smiled.
“This one is actually gonna be a book – maybe even a series. And it’s about a boy named Frankie George who has a super power: he can disappear. Except rather than being able to control it at the drop of a hat like wolverine or storm from the X-Men, it sort of happens automatically for him when he’s feeling particularly courageous and self-confident. Fear is the antidote. Right now in the story, he hasn’t figured any of this out – and he hasn’t actually yet realized that he disappears yet (neither has his parents). For all he can tell and understand, He’s still perfectly visible. It’s other people that can’t see him…and so far, it’s only the reader that are observing the slow discovery of how his ‘power’ works. Pretty quick though, he’s gonna disappear during a math test because he’s super good at math – he’s gonna finish his test early, return to his seat, and then all of a sudden; POOF! He won’t realize it at first, but his class will; but they’ll first think he’s just snuck out of the room quickly and very soon after they notice, they’ll start a search which will cause Frankie to feel afraid which will make him reappear. I’m gonna set up another scene like that in his house as well. Over time, Frankie will learn to control it though and he’s gonna become a crime fighter as a teenager.”
Alex’s eyes widened as she heard her friend speak so maturely and eloquently. “Jordan you’re amazing. Did I ever tell you that? Super weird and unique and odd…and completely amazing! You’re remarkable. I can’t even tell you. Holy cow. This is insane. Kids are gonna love it.” She smiled
“Thanks Alex. I hope I’ll be able to finish it before high school.” Jordan offered a pensive smirk.
The bell rang and the two friends hugged and parted ways for their afternoon classes. Jordan felt grateful to have such a loyal companion – even if she did sometimes didn’t act precisely how she wished at times.
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[Tuesday, April 23]
“Jo how can they just show up at school like that and talk to my children without my knowledge? How is that even legal?”
From the moment Mindi had announced that she liked “teacher Emma” that Monday evening, Sally was on edge. She knew something didn’t sound right with the new person on campus who, for reasons that mystified Mindi, asked her all kinds of questions about ‘Jordie and her nighttime underpants and stuff.’ She had announced that she really liked the woman, who played with her in a special room and promised to come visit her again. When the social worker had called Sally later in the evening to inform her of the interviews, Sally’s assumptions about what had taken place were verified. Emma Smart wanted to sit down with Sally as well.
“I’m sorry Sal. It sounds like this could get a little ugly before it gets better.” Jo Said. “If it was CPS or the state – and they suspect one parent of some kind of abuse, they can get in touch with your kids without the permission of either parent. It’s for the kids’ own protection. In a situation where a child was actually being abused, it wouldn’t make sense for CPS to come and get approval from the perpetrator who could then impact the kids’ willingness to talk about what had taken place.”
Sally nodded. “I just feel so violated. And like it’s so unjustified. I can’t imagine how they think I did anything wrong. Ted is such a bastard.” Thus far, she had naturally assumed that Ted was the one responsible for the investigation, despite his seeming penitence and shame in the courtroom.
“Well all you can do is be honest and clear when asked. If you try to cover up what you’ve done…or your motives Sally, they might be even more suspicious.” Jo said.
“But what is it gonna say then if I’ve quickly stopped the behavior that they’re coming to investigate me for in the first place? Doesn’t that imply I feel guilty about it? I wonder if stopping the nighttime routine was a bad thing… I feel so confused Jo. I don’t know what I should do.”
“I’m sorry Sal. Maybe it was a bad strategy. I don’t know. I’m really trying to do my best but I don’t always know the future either.”
The two were sitting outside on Sally’s back patio that joined with the alley. All the kids were asleep and it was dark outside. The mother of 3 twisted her cup in her hand very very rapidly, demonstrating the anxiety she felt inside. “I’m sorry Jo, I’m not meaning to be accusatory or judgmental. I know you’re trying to help and you’ve been such a great friend to me. I just feel so overwhelmed. I don’t know what I’ll do if they try to take the girls away. I’m not sure I can handle it.” She felt hot tears flow down her face.
“Take a breath Sal. You’re gonna be ok sweetie.” She reached for Sally’s hand to comfort her but the mother pulled away.
“Quit telling me that Jo! This is serious! This is real! They’re accusing me of sexual abuse or something! They’ve interviewed my children behind my back. People are talking about me. Deep breathing isn’t just gonna make this all go away!” Sally barked defensively and with an edge to her voice.
Jo steeled her nerves before responding, knowing that it was her friend’s stress and fear speaking – not Sally herself. “I’m not going to join you in being frantic Sally. I understand you’re afraid. I understand you’re stressed. You have every right to be. I’m trying to be a calm and supportive friend in this. I’m not trying to minimize your situation or telling you you shouldn’t feel what you feel.”
Sally began to cry, “I’m sorry…I…just…I…”
“I know Sally. It’s ok….”
Sally continued to cry. The two friends didn’t say another word.
- - - Updated - - -
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And thanks everyone for the kind words!!
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Jul 31, 2014 at 4:59 PM
Content: Chapter 40 – [April 26, 2002]
Ted had moved some of his personal effects into his office at Hope Seattle -- at least all of those that could seem not entirely out of place in a professional space. The rest of his junk was piled in a heap in a seedy motel room on the south side of downtown Seattle near the international district.
Dawn was breaking and he was on foot – walking to the bus stop on his way to work yet again. Without a car or other reliable form of transportation, Ted felt as though he was a few breaths away from some of the clients his company served. That afternoon, once the court hearing was over, he planned to check out a couple apartment and condo units in Capital Hill and also in Fremont.
But the biggest thing on the disheveled looking man’s mind was his ex-wife and how he had completely dismantled her life…his life…the whole family’s life, over the past 8 months through a series of decisions that lacked wisdom or self-control. How could I have been so naïve? How could I have been so selfish and stupid? Tyler Johns was right in the first place…what right do I even have to be the leader of a company like ‘Hope’? This whole thing is my fault. I’m such an IDIOT!! And now – I get to go hear the report of how Sally – my wife – MY WIFE – is or isn’t an abuser of my children. How ridiculous! How can this possibly be happening? How can I have possibly created this? I’m the biggest asshole in the world.
The man’s shame was beyond anything he had known in his life. Yet he also was well aware that there was essentially nothing he could do to fix the situation. The die had been cast. His relationship with Sally was irreconcilable. The CPS case was in motion (not precisely because of him – but that wasn’t the point). And whatever was going to take place was much out of his control. He shook his head and moped onto the bus; a defeated man.
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Late that afternoon, Ted carried the same energy into the courtroom. Sally might’ve expected a little more triumph from her conqueror; but all she saw was the same sense of penitence and sorrow that had seemingly come across his face when she had first received the news of the CPS inquest at their previous hearing. Watching his apparent state of defeat was mystifying to the woman who felt very similar herself. It simply didn’t add up in her mind. What the hell is going on here? Doesn’t he want this? What kind of charade is he trying to pull? The bastard.
Roger Johnson (Sally’s lawyer) followed by Brian Harris (Ted’s lawyer) laid out different aspects or their client’s claims on parental rights in the case and highlighted evidence before the judge. When the judge called the CPS social worker Emma Smart to the podium, Sally cringed; what she didn’t notice was that Ted did as well.
————
Sally’s interview with the social worker had been Thursday that week and the expert had given very little real-time feedback as to her findings during the process. Sally hadn’t known how to take it. When Emma asked Sally why the thirteen year old was wearing full blown adult diapers instead of ‘more appropriate bedwetting pull-ups’ for her problem, Sally had reacted defensively to the judgment she perceived behind the question. She fired back that the pull-ups leaked badly and that her daughter might as well not even wear anything in the first place if that was the only option; she noted that the whole idea with ‘protection’ was to simplify the laundry toll on the already stressed household. After that, Emma had lobbed another sortie inquiring if she thought it was unusual for a mother to force her teenage daughter to submit to nightly diapering like an infant. The nasty tone once again led Sally to react very defensively, putting up barbs to the conclusions she perceived behind the question. She had reiterated that the only reason she was helping Jordan with her nighttime attire was because she leaked if she did it herself (which she had tried on more than one occasion).
Before Emma could ask another question, Sally had continued by saying that she hadn’t been trying to hide anything…that her daughter never had seemed to be distressed by the routine and that their practice had been noted by numerous medical professionals over the past several months. “I’m sure you’ve looked through her medical records by now haven’t you Ms. Smart?” Sally had barked.
“Of course the social worker had perused everything and none of the physicians had noted any concern or indication of abuse taking place (which was of significance). But only one of the physicians had specifically noted that you were doing the diaper changes yourself which makes me wonder if you may indeed have been keeping that detail away from the others.” Emma had quipped back rather sharply which led Sally to feel both furious and manically out of control.
How the FUCK can this be happening?!
The more the two talked about the details of Jordan’s routine, her attitude toward it, and what had happened in the school year, the more Sally became defensive and frustrated. She increasingly cut the social worker off, corrected statements made as fact, and argued with her about details. She had felt any good impression she might’ve left with the young girl at the beginning of the interview had slipped away.
The interview had ended with curt courtesies and Emma’s promise to provide her a copy of her report at the time of the hearing at the end of the week.
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Sally could feel the sweat roll down her back under her work blouse and pant-suit as the social worker made her report in the courtroom late that Friday afternoon. Roger Johnson had asked the judge to make all non-essential leave before it had begun. Yet even hearing the details of her daughter’s enuresis and the suspicion of sexual misconduct as the basis for the investigation spoken aloud in front of the those few individuals present was mortifying for the mother of three. The whole time Emma spoke, Ted’s head hung and he looked straight down to the floor in shame.
Of the many things Emma described (including her interviews with each of Sally and Ted’s children, Ted himself, Melissa, and Dr. Yepp), was the interaction she had had at school with Jordan herself. Apparently, Jordan had been the only individual not to talk at all about her Mom doing the diapering…she had been willing to talk about her medical condition and wearing diapers to cope with it. But she had been completely tight lipped about how that actually had been taking place.
This unexplained secrecy, according to the social worker, potentially indicated that indeed something uncomely was taking place. However, because there was no other evidence per se, because Jordan herself clearly did not appear to be in distress (rather than floundering as would be the case for many kids going through abuse, she seemed to be soaring in most areas of life according to all parties concerned), and because the kind of limited perineal care Sally was providing isn’t necessarily abuse, Emma Smart reported an ‘inconclusive’ finding. She requested that the court offer her additional time over the spring and early summer to conduct more interviews, monitoring, and analysis before submitting her final report.
To Sally’s dismay, the judge granted the request and she felt absolutely defeated. Like a zombie, she got up and walked out of the courtroom – right in the middle of the judge’s explanation that the custody proceeding would be put on hold until the DSHS investigation was finished. Just before she reached the door, she caught a word from the judge about the possibility of criminal prosecution, which was just about enough to throw her over the edge. Sally’s lawyer quickly requested a momentary recess and apologized for his client before chasing her down the aisle and into the hallway.
He found her in a heap on the marble slab tiles weeping.
Sitting down next to her, he put his arm around her and said, “It’s gonna be ok Sally. It’s gonna be ok dear.” He had a fatherly tone to his voice which was a somewhat surprising shift.
“How could this possibly be ok Roger? How? They’re gonna prose--…they’re gonna….p…” she couldn’t get the word out.
“Sally. She didn’t say that. The findings were inconclusive. There’s no evidence. You’re not gonn—“ “How could I possibly have been doing something illegal Roger?! How is that even possible? I was talking to doctors and my best friend about it all the whole time. I had nothing to hide. Jordan never was uncomfortable with what was happening. How is this possible? How can I be on trial like this?” She felt powerless and frustrated and angry misjudged all at the same time.
“Sally you’ve been caught up in some government machinery and you’re gonna have to just let the system work through itself. There’s no way you’re gonna get prosecuted here. No chance….ok?” He looked her in the eyes confidently. He was a caring man but not always the most tactful or perceptive. “But I have to tell you Sally, there’s a possibility that Ted may be able to make a strong case for custody with all of this, even if the report comes back later in the summer with the finding that the suspicions were ‘unfounded’ (which is what we want and what I’d expect). His lawyer may be able to argue that your unusual style of parenting shows a lack of judgment or something similar. And that’s especially with all the courtroom antics you’ve shown the judge so far.”
This confirmation of her worst fear hit Sally like a ton of bricks. Literally. Everything immediately went black.
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Back at the house in Ballard later at night, Jordan was reeling emotionally. Her mom had come home from what she knew was a court hearing with a black eye. An outward sign of her inward condition. It didn’t take much for Jordan to know that she would once again be leaned upon for childcare and to provide emotional support for her sisters.
Luckily that night Friday evening, Jo had come over with Alex and helped with dinner prep and kid care before Sally returned. But the moment Jordan’s Mom walked in the door, she made a bee-line to the master bedroom, hardly even saying hello. Jo had followed and the two had had a long conversation with the door closed.
Alex helped Jordan put the younger girls to bed complete with a great deal of crying. They too felt the tension in the household and didn’t understand the emotional unavailability of their mother. While Jordan wasn’t in much of a position to fully grasp the pressures upon her Mom, she could see the dynamic that had emerged in her household.
Mom’s stress is really affecting her ability to take care of us all.
When Jo came out of the bedroom, everything was dark and quiet behind her. “Sorry Jordie, your Mom had a very rough hearing today. Her face got hurt because she passed out and bumped it on the edge of the table. You should be proud of how well you’ve taken responsibility of your sisters and looked after them. Your Mom loves you a lot and I know she appreciates all your help.”
Jordan’s eyes filled with tears, desperate for the touch and care she now lacked, but just barely consciously aware of the depth of her need. But what about me? Who’s gonna help me? Who’s gonna take responsibility and look after me? I’m not ready for all of this. I don’t wanna be a mom right now. I wanna HAVE a mom.
The girl’s thoughts rambled almost incoherently as the tears rolled down her face. She was unable to speak as she stood in the living room sobbing, almost pathetically Jo and Alex immediately moved closer to comfort and hold her close.
“Oh Jordie. Poor thing. This is really hard isn’t it?” Jo said as she hugged her close.
The teenager managed a nod as she continued to cry. Alex put her hand on her back an and gently massaged in support.
After a couple minutes, Jo spoke again. Grasping each of her shoulders and holding her away from her for a moment, she said, “Jordan I want you to know that you’re gonna survive this. I can’t tell you it’s gonna be easy. But you’re gonna make it through. And you’re gonna be an amazing woman because of it.”
While Jordan didn’t exactly know what she needed to hear in that moment, but this sentiment somehow wasn’t terribly fulfilling or encouraging. Looking at Jo now from arms length tears silently poured down her face all the more.
She looked pathetic.
“Oh sweetie.” Jo whispered as she pulled her in again for a hug and Alex stood by somewhat awkwardly in support – but fully engaged with and concerned for her friend.
After a few more moments, Jo whispered again again. “If you need anything at all Jordan; please ask. Don’t hesitate to call. Day or night. Ok?”
She nodded and the two made a move toward the door. Crazy emotions of abandonment, fear, sadness, and disappointment swirled in the tall teenager’s heart. She continued to cry, standing in the middle of the living room, looking down, and toes pointed together in a juvenile fashion.
Alex gave her a hug and moved to the front door to open it, Jo followed suit. As her friend’s mom was slipping out the door, Jordan finally whimpered, “Wait. Jo?”
Hardly hearing a sound, Jo turned around as if to verify it. “What is it Jordan?”
“Will you…would you…um…h…hel…help me…get r…r…ready….for bed?” Her face was downcast, red, and had developed a sheen of sweat as she made the request, desperate for attention and tender-loving-care.
Jo stepped back in the room as Alex (who was out on the porch) whipped around to see why her Mother was turning around, not having heard the doleful appeal.
“Oh dear Jordan. You really are taking all these changes hard aren’t you?” She reached for the girl’s hand. Jordan’s heart beat quicker in hopes that maybe this substitute Mom would be wiling to fill-in. “Listen sweetie, I’m really sorry but I just can’t do that right now…I think you can take care of yourself besides. It’s better this way. Trust me.” She gave the tall girl a hug and turned and left with finality. Jordan still didn’t move, frozen in place crying and crying and crying. Alone in her own home.
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It always felt slightly odd and even a little guilty for Jordan when she put on her own diaper. That night, it felt sad as well.
Yet, somehow. Almost magically. Her intense emotions and worry faded the moment she felt the thick padding between her legs. Even still, after almost 8 months of near daily use, a diaper’s capacity to produce a consistent sense of peace in the girl was undeniable.
As she drifted off to sleep, Jordan felt warm and secure and dreadfully exposed all at once.
Maybe I really am on my own then?
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 3, 2014 at 5:43 AM
Content: Chapter 41 – [Friday, May 3, 2002]
A couple weeks went by and the sense of weight Jordan felt on her shoulders remained. Sure, her Mom seemed to calm down a bit and was able to cope with life again following the court hearing: for instance, she had fairly rapidly regained her ability to interact interact with Jordan and her sisters on a coherent level and had resumed leadership of the household affairs). But it was clear that the ‘Mom’ that Jordan had come to know over the fall and winter of her seventh grade year had gone away — and only a shell of that person remained. It wasn’t as though the girl had been literally completely abandoned or was on her own in the world, but the starkness of her mother’s shift along with the ongoing questions regarding her father’s status brought out those feelings none-the-less.
To make matters worse, Sally had regressed to verbalizing her disdain and judgment for Ted in front of all three of her daughters. While heretofore in their separation process, she had been outwardly supportive and relatively positive of Ted, Jordan had noticed over the past several weeks that her Mom’s speech had taken dark turn. She couldn’t help but notice how this had interestingly coincided with the potential relational resurgence of her relationship with her Dad. Entirely mixed up and confused, the seventh grader chose to get together with him again despite the apparent tension it was causing in her home.
On that Friday afternoon, the two of them met for lunch and one of the interesting things about it was that this was in fact the first time she could ever remember doing something like it with him before. She liked it a great deal. The young teenager couldn’t help but wonder if he might be in the middle of making the kinds of changes her friend Alex’s Dad had made earlier that year as he successfully went through treatment for his alcoholism. Although she was naive, she also had seen enough to know what glimmers of hope looked like.
Sitting across from her Dad at a downtown Asian restaurant that specialized in an amazing noodle soup from Vietnam, Jordan talked as he asked her questions about school, friends, and home. In some respects, he seemed like a whole new person; composed, ‘present’, seemingly interested, and calm. Just as she had perceived him to be weeks earlier when he had apologized for not standing up for her, Jordan sensed skepticism rising in herself at this change. Yet she also couldn’t help herself. He seemed to genuine.
Is this too good to be true? How can I bounce back and forth between parents like this? It feels so weird. She thought to herself as Ted asked her if she was working on a new story.
Just as with the innocuous question she had fielded recently from Alex, Jordan initially reacted demurely but then eventually explained to him her excitement about the new book project, its subject, plot, and her progress on it thus far (she had actually already completed a solid draft of over half of her initial plan). He listened intently and asked several followup questions indicating his interest. In fact, he even encouraged her saying he thought it might be something she could try to publish.
She smiled brightly with great hope and anticipation.
Ted also asked if she had any ‘love’ interests or prospects.
Blushing, Jordan couldn’t help but give away the truth. It was an awkward thing for any thirteen year old to have to answer or talk about in front of her Daddy.
“Who is it?” he asked in a feigned scold, tipping his head and raising an eyebrow; blue eyes slicing through her.
Jordan looked down, embarrassed but strangely proud. She was as normal as any teenager might be testing the waters of her first real dating relationship.
“His name’s Joey.” She said.
“Joey what?” Ted replied in the same tone.
“Joey…Michael?” She replied almost as if it was a question.
“Our neighbors? Isn’t he super good at basketball and stuff? Wow Jordan!” He smiled with a genuinely affirmative sounding tone, “Good for you sweetie. What’s he like?”
As she talked about Joey: the way he laughed and his outgoing nature, the way he stuck up for her around the bullies at school, and the way he liked to just ‘hang out and have fun’, her eyes glazed over in happiness and pure ‘puppy-love’.
He smiled affirmatively but also clearly had additional things on his mind. “So…this might be kinda weird coming from your Dad. But…have you thought about the physical side of dating much?”
It was an even more awkward question for each of them. But Ted, feeling the need to be a responsible Dad and not knowing what Sally had or hadn’t done in terms of education in that area since he had been out of the house, proceeded. “I…I…mean. Boys sometimes aren’t as good at…controlling…themselves…and…I just wanna make sure you have some kind of plan in mind…”
That wasn’t the best choice of words was it? He thought. And I’m probably not the best example either! Ugh.
Jordan let the obvious example of hypocrisy go — focusing almost solely on the fact that it was pretty terrible luck to have to have a second such ‘talk’ in less than a month. “Yeah I know Dad. Mom and I had this big talk about it a couple weeks ago. I’m not gonna get pregnant if that’s what you’re asking.”
Slightly relieved that Sally had been ‘on it’, Ted responded a little defensively and backed off. “Ok, ok, ok. I’m not trying to force the conversation on you here Jordan — especially if you don’t want it. I just want you to make good, informed, decisions with your body…and if talking about it some more with me would be helpful, I’m happy to talk… I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing…with your body…? You know that right?”
She nodded.
He decided to just continue. “And if a boy tries to make you feel like you have to do something to earn his affection — that’s — well…lemme lay it on the line Jordan. That’s bullshit.”
It was weird for Jordan, hearing her Dad swear casually — when he was not even angry.
He continued, “Anyone who tries to manipulate you like that isn’t good enough for you. They’ll respect your boundaries and have boundaries of their own besides.”
She nodded again, slightly uncomfortable with his serious tone all of a sudden.
“But one more thing Jordan — if you do do something — maybe something that you regret? Whether it’s with Joey or whoever. Remember that your parents love you no matter what ok? There’s nothing you can do to make us love you less. Nothing alright? Sure, we give you all this advice and stuff but no one lives life perfectly.”
Uh oh, here I go again. He thought. I’m not really the person to be making this speech am I?
“…If you screw up and do something you regret, I want you to know that you can come and talk to me or your Mom and we’ll help you get out of it. Please don’t keep it a secret ok honey?” He looked her in the eyes.
Again, her head bobbed up and down as she took a big slurp of noodles.
Satisfied, Ted changed the subject and the mood lightened. “So what about Camp then? Are you all set? Is Joey going?”
Her heart pounded immediately. As far as she knew, her Dad had yet to pay a dime for camp even though he had agreed to it supposedly.
I guess I might as well talk to him about it, we’ll see how deep this change actually is.
She nodded and said, “Well…it’s good. I’m all applied and accepted and everything…but…” She paused, not knowing how to confront him on this missed detail.
“But what?”
“Well…Mom said you were gonna take care of the bill…and…well…it’s almost past due.” She said carefully but fearfully.
Ted felt guilty again immediately. Sally had mentioned it to him back at the beginning of April and around Christmas, he had promised to take care of it, but with all the stress of the divorce and work, it had slipped his mind. “Oh really? I’ll be sure to get that done on Monday ok sweetie? Your mom is right. I just forgot. I’m sorry about that.”
Jordan felt both happily surprised and skeptical at the same time. Hmmm. I guess that might explain it…but time will tell if he actually gets it done.
“Are you…um…still having your…nighttime problem?” He asked delicately, concerned to know how that was going to be managed in the camp environment.
“…Um…yeah…most nights still…why?” she asked feeling self-conscious again.
“Well…we were just talking about camp and I wondered…you know…how that was gonna go…up there…? Are you worried about it at all?” He asked with a sense of empathy in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m nervous but…I guess…there are other kids like me that go to camp…and the cabins are all divided into these little cubby-room things so it’s sort of private in a way. Alex and I are gonna be sharing one and she knows so…maybe it won’t be a big deal…?”
“Oh…well yeah…sounds like you’ve got a good plan…” he replied.
She nodded quickly, slurping another mouthful of noodles and waiting for her Dad to direct the conversation further. But he remained silent as well, digging into his own food as well. Jordan’s mind flashed to the blackmail and what he had done to Mr. Johns and she felt more confident than ever about confronting him about it.
“So — I know about what happened with the board — Mr. Johns told me…” She said, trying to open the subject casually.
“Oh?”
I should’ve known, what the hell is wrong with that guy? Spreading that kind of political hogwash’s to my daughter? She’s got no chance but to get jaded with the church. Ted’s mind turned rapidly.
“Yeah.”
“And?” he asked.
“Well. I’m just wondering why you had to put Mr. Johns in that position? I mean, I honestly don’t really know what to think right now. But when he first told me, I was super mad at him for not just letting you get fired because it seemed like you deserved it for…for…everything…” She grew silent for a minute, feeling subconscious for giving away her judgment and anger at her dad so easily.
“Yes. I guess I can see that. But sometimes people have changes of mind you know?” He said innocently, still not knowing about TJ Yates’ blackmail move on Mr. Johns to manipulate the situation.
“What the hell are you saying Dad?” She asked incredulously.
“Watch your mouth Jordan.” He scolded.
“What? I get yelled at for saying a vegetarian cuss word but you don’t have to be held responsible for blackmailing my favorite teacher?”
A jolt shot through Ted like lightening. Blackmail? What the hell is she talking about? Her favorite teacher? Mr. Johns? What?
“Jordan, blackmail? What are you talking about?” he asked honestly.
She stared back with incredulity. Lips pursed.
“Seriously Jordan.” His eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re obviously pretty worked up about it. Please. Would you explain further? How exactly do you think I blackmailed anyone? And how do you even know that word?”
“Don’t play dumb with me Dad. Mr. Johns told me everything. How you threatened him that if he didn’t sway the vote to let you keep your job, you’d make sure he and his wife were fired. If that’s not blackmail, I don’t know what is. How could you do something like that?”
Ted was in shock. He had (dumbly) assumed that Mr. Johns had simply had a genuine change of heart, not been manipulated into doing what he did.
How can this possibly be true? What is she saying? He thought.
“Jordan…I…Lemme get this straight…I…I honestly haven’t ever heard this before…”
“Dad. Please.” She looked at him with condescension. “Just tell the truth.”
“Jordan. Dear. Listen—“
“No. You listen Dad. I want you to be honest with me. You just made this big speech about trusting you and coming to you if I have sex or get pregnant or something… How can I do that if you don’t tell me the truth about this?” She felt her confidence rise and her own voice sounded older to her than its age. She felt proud of how she was standing up for herself.
“Jordan. I’m telling you the truth.” He looked at her once again in the eyes. “I screwed up royally with you and your mom and you sisters. I got together Melissa which was idiotic. I spend too much time at work. I wasn’t there for you. I own all that — truly. I wish I could fix it all. I was selfish and wrong and I probably still am and will be in some ways. I feel horrible about it. And maybe the worst part about all of it is that I know I can’t make everything better… But whatever you’re saying about blackmail? I honestly don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. And I honestly am asking you to explain what you heard because I want to get to the bottom of it…Seriously. Please.”
She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t believe him yet he seemed genuinely confused.
This is so hard. Why do I have to be in the middle of it? Why can’t I just be a normal girl with a normal family and a normal Dad who’s interested in her life? Why do I have to have all this crazy stuff happening all the time?
But his gaze was intent, unwavering, clear. Finally, she opened her mouth and the whole story she had received from Mr. Johns in the hospital came flooding out. Ted appeared to be in shock and fully blown away by the revelation.
“So who was it? Who delivered the message?” He asked.
“I dunno Dad. Mr. Johns wouldn’t tell me. He said it would be gossip and it would hurt me to know.”
“Yates.” Ted muttered almost to himself. “It had to have ben Yates.” He felt pissed for being outmaneuvered yet again.
“Georgia’s Dad? What are you talking about? Why would—“
“It’s fine Jordan. Don’t worry about it. And you got the impression from Mr. Johns that he was really conflicted by this decision? Like he really thought that if he followed through, he’d lose his job as well?”
“Yeah. Totally. He and his wife both. I mean, after telling me all that, I’m kinda surprised they even took me on the trip in the first place… You’re sort of the enemy in their eyes now.” She said.
“Wow. So he let me off the hook. He threw the vote on purpose. I can hardly believe it. But I do…I do…I can see it all now.” He said almost to himself before delving into silence, thinking and chewing.
“Dad?” Jordan finally said. “Can we — like — talk about something else?” She was taken completely off guard by the whole interaction and she didn’t know how to respond or to take it.
Could Dad have possibly not known about all this? Really? Is there any way that could happen? Is he more innocent than I’ve been giving him credit for?
The two finished up their meal and by mid-afternoon, Jordan’s sisters joined the pair for an evening of fun and another meal out. Nothing more was spoken of it that night.
————————————
Nicole and Amber had lunch out at Taco bell with Amber’s mother that Friday afternoon. The two spent a good deal of the meal commiserating about their complete lack of opportunity to divulge what they considered to be a huge and shameful secret about their most hated threat: Jordan Reynolds. With only a couple more weeks of school left, both were coming to the realization that they didn’t have the wherewithal to hatch their scheme before it was all over.
“I’m just so pissed we didn’t get it done Amber. Like it feels like we wussed out or something. We have this juicy dirt and we didn’t use it.” She took a drink of her Mtn. Dew.
“It’s like we talked about before Nikki, there’d be no point. No one would believe it. Especially now. She’s like the most popular kid in Jr. High. They’d see right through us. Besides, we’ve made her life miserable in other ways.”
The two smiled devilishly at each other as both of their minds immediately went to the cafeteria incident. Amber and Nicole had taken to the habit of ‘accidentally spilling’ things on Jordan ever since spring break. One time in the girls’ locker room, Amber had spilled almost an entire bottle of water on the unsuspecting girl. At other moments, they had ‘tripped’ and dumped things on her feet and legs or desk during classes. But the previous Friday, Amber had shaken salt packets in Jordan’s hair in the cafeteria. That time however, Joey had noticed and slammed his fist down on the table and yelled “stop!” At that Amber had replied, “Fine!” in as snotty of tone as possible and flung the salt shaker over her shoulder. It had landed perfectly in Jordan’s milk, splashing and spilling it all over her tray and destroying her lunch. It was perfect and the visit to detention had been worth it.
Amber continued trying to redirect the conversation a bit, “Let’s just try to have fun with the rest of our year. We’re graduating 8th grade. That’s kind of a big deal. That stupid tall tree will be around to bug next year.”
“But if we at least do something, it’s better than nothing! I mean, we can’t use it next year…we won’t even be in the same part of the school, w’ere moving up to 9th grade remember?”
“I think we need to spring it on her at camp this summer. We’re all gonna be there at the same time. And maybe we find some ‘evidence’ in her cabin or something? I mean, everyone is living so close together; a rumor like that would fly like wildfire. Just be patient Nicole. Trust me. We’re still in control here.” She daintily took a bite of her food, careful not to mess up her perfect makeup.
“Hmm. Camp. I like that idea. Maybe that’d be a better place anyways.” The two friends smiled at each other deviously once more.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 6, 2014 at 5:06 AM
Content: Chapter 42 – [Thursday, May 16, 2002]
As school pressed toward completion, the Reynolds’ household bumped along a rocky and tension filled path. Sally (from Jordan’s perspective) continued to be more distant than she had grown accustomed over the bulk of the school year. The seventh-grader’s bedwetting had continued although surprisingly over the course of the weeks from mid-April to mid-May it had tapered down it’s march a little bit, only occurring several times a week instead of every single night. Since Sally hadn’t been changing her before bed (and had only sometimes helped her in the mornings beforehand anyways), she thus far was unaware of this rather positive development. However, (and also unbeknownst to Sally) Jordan had peed in her diaper on purpose on a number of those twice or thrice-weekly ‘dry’ mornings — simply because she liked the feeling.
On one particular Mid-may Thursday morning, Jordan laid in bed feeling the warm wetness spread under her butt and thinking about summer camp of all things. She had been relieved that the accidental wetting overnight seemed to be somewhat going away or at least declining. She knew juggling bedwetting at camp would be a drag and if she could somehow (miraculously) overcome it in the next few weeks, it would be fantastic. However, the total absence of bedwetting would create a new problem and this wouldn’t leave her mind as she lay in bed dreaming about her summer.
How will I get more diapers if I quit altogether? What if it really does stop? I can’t just pee my pants on purpose every morning to make it look like I have this problem can I? That’s both weird and a little pathetic. Plus I’d kind of be lying too. I’m not sure I can do that with a full heart. And I don’t really WANT to have the problem at camp anyways. She thought.
The tall teenager thought about how she had come to rely on her diapers all the more for emotional support as well. Sometimes even in school over the past month, she had found herself thinking about the sensation of wearing a diaper when she felt stressed or afraid about a project or assignment. When Amber and Nicole mistreated her, remembering the security of her diapers was part of what helped her through it. And none of that was to mention the apparent more sensual attraction they had curiously developed for her.
If I stopped wetting before camp, it would sure simplify things up there though. How can I possibly be wearing diapers every while I’m there? She thought about the little bunk-bed ‘cubby’ rooms in the cabins where pairs of girls would share tight spaces for the summer. A curtain instead of a door closed them off from the rest of the cabin hallway and in each, there was hardly enough room to turn around, let alone primp with a diapered derrier. The fact that she was sharing her ‘room’ with Alex didn’t stifle the fear because there would be an additional 8-12 girls in the same larger cabin.
But what if I still ‘need’ diapers while I’m there? I’ll have no choice. If I stop wetting, for real, I won’t be able to justify taking any in case I ‘need’ them for ‘other’ reasons. And how the heck am I supposed to get them if mom quits buying them? I can’t imagine she’ll want to get me them just for my fun. And besides, that’d be SO awkward. The thirteen-year-old began to see the catch 22 she seemed to be in. I either am a diaper-wearing bedwetter (and that gives me a legitimate reason to need diapers) — or, I’m a diaper wearing freak who has to find an alternate source. This is terrible.
The fact that she indeed liked wearing her diapers, liked the attention and care her Mom had once offered, and liked the feeling of safety and happiness they seemed to provide, all served to give her a dose of clarity and a certain degree of mental stability. Yet at the same time, the adult-sized teen still felt a great deal of shame about it as well. The little comfort she could garner at that point was simple admission of the truth of the reality.
I wonder if there’s anyone else who is like this? She thought.
——————————————
Later that afternoon after the three sisters finished their school days, Jordan was once again babysitting. Ever since late April and the fateful ‘talk’ with her Mom, the seventh-grader had become the de facto daily ‘sitter’ in place of more formal (and costly) childcare programs. Sally was able to get off work a little early that Thursday, and she was considering taking the whole gang out for a pizza dinner as a sort-of stress relief treat. There was a place up in Lynwood with a rock-and-roll themed dining room and she figured the girls would like it.
When Sally walked in the house, everything was dead quiet. Because it was unusual for her to be home so early in the day, she didn’t know if the silence was the norm. Passing through the doorway and down the hall toward the girls’ rooms, she saw that both sets of bedroom doors were closed. Walking past Jordan’s new room initially, she went to the younger sisters’ door and cracked it open quietly. She peered inside and was rather surprised to see both soundly asleep in bed.
What is this? Daycare? It’s only 4:45 in the afternoon! Is Jordan the kid-whisperer or something? I could never get them to take a nap like this if my life depended on it. Sally thought with a bit of humor on he heart.
Moving to her eldest’s door, Sally decided to knock quietly instead of just opening it.
No answer.
She knocked softly one more time but yet again, heard no response.
She cracked the door, but kept her eyes averted, careful not to embarrass her daughter in case she was doing what she knew had become a habit during many of the afternoons when she had been alone.
“Jordan?” she whispered in a hushed voice.
Still no response.
I hope she’s here… She wouldn’t leave the girls alone in the house would she? Sally wondered momentarily, her mind shifting to other possibilities.
But opening the door further, the mother of three spied her thirteen year old laying on her side and stomach on top of the bed clearly fast asleep. She was wearing her school uniform skirt and matching blouse and her wet diaper was clearly exposed underneath the pleated fabric. In a jolt of embarrassment — Sally couldn’t help but notice how Jordan’s hand also appeared to be stuffed down under the front waistband of her skirt and diaper as she slept.
Quickly, Sally made a move to turn and close the door but not before her eye caught the lit desktop computer screen in her eldest daughter’s room. It sat on her desk which was pushed up against the same wall which shared the door and hallway. Plastered across the page in bright colors were the letters “ABDL” and below it were several thumbnail pictures of adult men and women in various stages of undress wearing baby clothes and diapers. Gawking for a moment, Sally hastily continued her retreat out of the bedroom and closed the door before her teenager stirred.
Why did you go in there Sally?! You idiot! And what the hell did I just see in there anyways? What kind of crazy diaper pornography was that? And was she…masturb—ating…? She’s thirteen! I didn’t hardly know I had anything more down there other than to pee with at her age. What have I done to her? Oh my God. This is terrible. What am I gonna do?
As she glided quietly back toward her bedroom, Sally fretted and stewed with genuine dismay and fear.
———
An hour later, Jordan and the girls stirred. Sally banging around in the kitchen and laundry room sped that process along quite a bit. When the older girl emerged from her room and discretely tried to pad down the hall toward the bathroom, what might’ve still been a secret had Sally not seen what she had earlier, became obvious to all. Unbeknownst to the teenager, the back of her skirt was tucked in her diaper, revealing it to her Mom who continued to bustle in the kitchen but with a clear view down the hall..
This girl. Sally thought, Mercy! She ought to be a little more careful or all her friends are gonna find out about this for sure! Not to mention the trouble it’s gonna cause me! Her own shame bubbled out of control.
Jordan emerged a few minutes later looking as though nothing unusual had taken place and Sally didn’t let on any different. The younger sisters were up from their naps shortly after that and despite the fact that it was close to 6:30pm, Sally proposed her plan to go out for dinner. All three responded with joy and interest. Interested in exactly what Jordan had been doing on the computer, but far too embarrassed to ask, Sally drove in almost silence. Mindi and Jen jabbered on about their day and week thus far. Apparently, a girl in Mindi’s class had had a birthday party that day and they ran out of cupcakes. A boy named Billy didn’t get one and he had thrown his desk over in the room because he was so angry. Mindi went on to explain how he was a jerk and no one liked him.
“Now Mindi, lots of people do strange things sometimes and it’s easy to judge them or think they’re bad at first. But if we just put ourselves in their shoes for a few minutes, we might find that they’re not such bad people after all. I bet you sometimes go to school upset about stuff and your friends don’t know why right? What about last week when you got your finger slammed in the door? No one knew about it really, and you were kinda irritable all day long at home — and I’m sure at school. What if all your classmates just decided that you’re a jerk and that they shouldn’t like you?”
“Well that’d be mean. They should know that I had a bad day!”
“Well…sometimes other people have bad days too Mindi…sometimes people have bad weeks or bad months… Maybe Billy is having trouble at home that you don’t know about — and it wasn’t really fair that he didn’t get a cupcake. Maybe that was just the last straw to happen to him?”
“Yeah, I guess. But he’s still crazy.” She reiterated.
Sally couldn’t help but think of how that line of thought might apply to her oldest daughter and her interesting choice of computer entertainment. Maybe I need to give JORDAN a break…she’s definitely been through a LOT...I just don't know how to do it...
———
Back home after dinner and with the whole gang in bed, Sally lay in her own and breathed a sigh that contained fear, anxiety, and sadness.
What has happened to our lives? Where has the “Reynolds Family” gone?
She thought about Jordan and her apparent budding fixation with wearing diapers at most times of the day and night — and maybe even some kind of sexual kink involving them. Feeling now like a family member who enables an alcoholic in his or her addiction, Sally could sense shame and embarrassment creep through her body. Her orientation to Jordan’s ‘needs’ was shifting yet again.
How could I just let this happen under my roof? How could I mindlessly go along with my thirteen year old on her perverted sexual desires? This is obviously an aberration. I mean, Mindi and Jen are now dry every single night. They, like normal kids, wet the bed for a little while, sure. But I’ve never heard of teenager starting wetting like this in my whole life. What if its all made up? What if it’s all fake? What if Jordan is doing it on purpose so that she can wear diapers in the first place because she wants to — do what she’s doing with them? What if it’s all a ruse?
She rolled over in her bed and spied her large leather bound Bible on the night stand on what formerly was Ted’s side of the bed. Dust had settled on it’s cover and the gilded pages looked almost untouched. It had been months since she had cracked its cover and she and the girls’ church attendance had been sporadic since the separation had solidified. Facing her church community had become a chore in light of Ted’s failures and she had grown to dread any kind of conversation about what was happening between the two of them. Every time she had run into a church member at the grocery store or at the school, she had worried about who’s “side” they were on and if they were judging her for ‘kicking Ted out of the house’ (even though that wasn’t what had actually taken place). The sheer expenditure of energy just to show up to worship was immense — and so they had not gone very often.
Could God be punishing me for not being very faithful lately? I know the pastor says that’s not how he does business but still… Is my whole life going so badly because I’m dropping the ball spiritually? Is God letting Ted do this thing with CPS because I’m allowing my daughter to bring sexual sin into my home? Should I quit buying the diapers and force her just to change the sheets?
Sally thought back on how she herself used to be when she and Ted had first been married: devout, conservative, serious, dedicated, focused. Many things had shifted since then…especially in the past several months. She felt as though, through her conversations with Jo and the circumstances surrounding being a single mom and Jordan’s trials, she had really become far more ‘soft’ and humanistic in her orientation to life. This was new in the big picture. Part of this made her feel good. But that night, laying in bed, she questioned herself too. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had prayed — and that was disturbing.
Am I off track? Have I compromised core values? Should I be a more strict parent? I know I didn’t abuse my daughter but maybe there’s an inkling of truth in Melissa’s complaint to CPS…maybe it was wrong for me to be so permissive about what Jordan wants? Maybe I should’ve told her ‘no’ and that NEEDING to wear diapers was one thing…but liking them or being turned on by them or seeing others wearing them is quite another. This is an abomination.
She thought about Jo and their agreement to talk that night on the phone. It was still not quite 10pm and they regularly talked that late in the evening; but Sally decided to forgo the phone call that night. Instead, she crawled across the bed, grabbed her weathered Bible along with her journal.
I’m making a change. She thought. This has got to end!
————————
Melissa Cooper’s Bible hadn’t been cracked for months either. She, however, didn’t spend that Thursday evening reading it. Rather, the auburn haired woman worked at packing her knick-knacks and personal effects in her Belltown apartment. After being unceremoniously fired at Hope Seattle, she had been unable to find adequate replacement work in the city. Because her lease was up in June, she had decided it was stupid to sign it again when she didn’t even know where she would be able to find a job.
That afternoon, she had finished yet another round of job application drop offs in the city. This time for positions on yet another wrung lower on the totem pole of prestige (as a clerk at Staples, Target, and other retail stores). Over the month that had passed since receiving her pink slip from the shelter, Melissa had garnered only a few calls back and once they learned that she had been fired, showed no interest in interviewing her. One manager did call her in for a conversation, but it was only a pet store chain. She hadn’t received a job offer.
As she folded up t-shirts and jeans, stuffing them into boxes, she seethed with anger against the entire Reynolds family.
Those sons of bitches haven’t heard the last of me. She thought to herself.
But as the space the she and Ted had inhabited together slowly became bare, the hollowness of her inner threat became stark. But how am I gonna feed myself, let alone settle a vendetta?
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 11, 2014 at 9:15 PM
Content: Thanks for all the positivity folks. I'm enjoying the project. I will admit that I am in a period of "grind" right now and I want to finish it strongly and see the story arcs resolve. I definitely have an ending in mind and it should get there in the next <10 chapters or so. Initially I had some ideas about doing future installments about Jordan and her life as she evolves later into high school, and then through college. In fact, the original idea to make her an author was a key plot-line in my original idea and it really didn't get developed in this part of the story as much as I'd hoped...
It will if I get to "jordan in high school" Fun.
Thanks again.
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 43 — [Friday, May 17, 2002]
“How’s Daddy’s little girl this morning? Did she sleep good? I hope no scary dreams… Did Phunny keep you safe baby?” He nestled the soft stuffed elephant up close to her delicate cheek.
His blue eyes were soft, loving, and fully-present. She gazed up at him from her bed and felt safe and secure.
“Is my little girl all wet? Does she need a new diapee?” He reached down to pick her up.
Turning her head to the side, she didn’t respond verbally. In fact, she oddly didn’t feel like she could speak at all. She rolled the rest of her body to the side and was greeted by white vertical rails — she grasped them with chubby pinkish hands. At that moment, she felt Daddy’s own strong hands engulf her and pull her out of the guarded enclosure. She felt lifted to his chest with one arm around her back and the other crossing under her padded bum. She instinctively lay her head on his shoulder. She felt small — littler than she had in ages.
“Daddy’s gonna get you all cleaned up baby and then we gonna have some fun today ok?” He whispered as he gently bounced her and walked to the other side of the room.
She felt herself being laid down on a soft pad and then his hands were between her legs.
Pop. Pop. Pop. And she felt a gush of cool air. An old but familiar sensation flooded her body as his gentle hands peeled back the wet fabric of her onesie.
“Oh my, it looks like someone’s leaked…don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get you all taken care of. Ok?”
The crackly swipes of velcro separating was unmistakable — one on each side — and then even more cold air between her legs before it was immediately warm again.
“Oh sweetie, guess you weren’t done yet huh?” He said.
The wipes were cold but comforting as her Daddy gently cleaned the mild and babyish mess. “That was easy wasn’t it darlin’?”
She felt her bare feet held high in the air, engulfed in a muscular hand. The smell of cream and powder filled the air. She felt soft and small and helpless and seen and cared for and safe. The new diaper was soft and snug and thick and dry.
“Almost done baby. Let’s get that wet shirt off.” As he helped sit her up, she could feel his hand on her back, spanning her shoulder blades, it’s protective warmth a shelter.
The cotton began to peel up her body and over her head — and just as the saturated bottom reached her face it seemed to stick in place. “Just a minute baby. I’ll get it off here…” The voice said. But the wet and smelly fabric just stayed there.
She began to struggle, but her little arms and legs were weak and soft.
The ammonia odor was strong. The damp and cold cotton fibers clung to her delicate skin. She fought to breathe.
Her hands began to flail.
His strong hands and gentle touch vanished. He was no longer with her.
The wet cotton tightened. She fought to push it off but the more she grappled, the more securely it held her. Gasping for air, she began to feel suffocated.
She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. It just filled with more urine-soaked cotton.
————
Jordan’s eyes bolted open in a near panic. Her heart raced.
A urine saturated sheet was tangled around her neck, across her chest and shoulders, and mouth. The odor was strong. She tried to sit up but as she did, part of the damp fabric tightened around her waist and left thigh, threatening to hold her in place. Wriggling her right arm free, she was able to peel away the sheet from her mouth and head, and with that complete, she eventually twisted out of the rest of her disgusting trap.
Safety and security were far away.
In the dimly lit bedroom, the tall lanky teenager with tangled hair surveyed the damage. Her diaper was ripped open on one side and part of its cottony and translucent pellets were spewed all over the bed. The sheets were a mess. She was missing her shirt. And the bed was SOAKED with aging and smelly pee.
The clock read 3:51.
She began to cry softly in self pity.
It was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare. It was just a dream. She told herself as she groggily began the slow cleanup process.
But was it really a nightmare? She thought about the website she had stumbled across in her haphazard Yahoo search the day before. The intelligent but inexperienced young author had searched for terms like ‘adult diapers, liking wearing diapers, teens in diapers, teenagers who like to wear diapers, etc’ and had stumbled upon a colorful website with the acronym ABDL. Beyond just being about wearing diapers, this site featured adults who apparently acted and dressed up like full-blown babies. It was nothing she had ever heard of or considered; yet it somehow made sense given her experience that year. The site contained a store with various clothing items and related products, ads where adults that apparently liked diapers were trying to connect with other like-minded adults, pictures that were largely protected by a subscription (Jordan didn’t have a credit card of course), as well as stories. It seemed to suggest that there were dozens (if not hundreds) of people ‘out there’ who had a similar affinity for the childish garb. Jordan had been completely blown out of the water.
Do I somehow subconsciously want to be like those people on the diaper can website? Is that what that was all about? Am I really a complete freak of nature? The young teen’s mind reeled as the vivid details of her dream rapidly faded in her mind against her will.
Just as she was beginning to have more peace about her strange feelings, this new dream and associated input of possibilities threw her off and into a new state of confusion.
———————
“I’m not wanting to be blunt or disrespectful with you Ms. Cooper, I just need to understand exactly what happened. You yourself put a diaper on Jordan too?”
“Well…yeah…I did…one time…because she asked me to,” Melissa lied, “the night before she did it herself and it leaked. So the second night she asked for help. She didn’t want her Dad to do it, which seemed understandable to me.”
Emma Smart nodded and then peered up over her dark rimmed glasses. The two sat that Friday morning in a small reception area in the DSHS office in a strip mall off of I-5 near Northgate.
“Listen. The reason I called you people was because I was so disturbed by what I saw was happening with her. The whole thing was sprung on me. I didn’t have time to react. But the more I thought about it afterwards, the more it bothered me. That’s why I called.” She lied again. “Her mom is forcing her into those diapers I’m sure of it. She’s regressing her for her own gratification or something. It’s abuse and you need to do something about it…”
Seeing no response in the social worker’s affect, Melissa upped the ante, “You know, I knew this was gonna happen. I just knew I was gonna call and make this report and the fucking government was gonna screw it up. You always do that you know? You never can get it right….” Her tone changed to a self-muttering condescension, “Get the government involved and everything goes straight to hell. I tell you what. I should’ve expected this…”
The unemployed woman sounded more frantic and defensive the more she talked. Emma Smart continued to listen carefully. Soaking in as many details as possible, knowing that the investigation was still open — and that the motive of the one who had made the initial allegation was without a doubt not snow-white. Emma herself was a young social worker at 25 and this was one of the very first cases she had ever worked alone. She was anxious to get it right.
“Ms. Cooper, we are conducting a thorough investigation. If you have concerns about my integrity, please speak with my supervisor about that. But I have to tell you, your frantic and accusatory tone doesn’t add to your credibility; and while it is unusual for a twelve or thirteen year old to need (or to ask for) perineal care from her parent or caretaker, it also isn’t out of the realm of possibility. I’m not going to comment any further than that, but in general, I find your level of intensity about this to be surprising and confusing.” Waiting a beat as if to consider if she should say the next sentence, Emma added, “It’s as if you care more about destroying the girl’s mother than protecting the girl herself.”
At that, Melissa’s face turned nearly as red as her hair and her eyes grew wide, staring down the social working in attempted intimidation. But she truly had nothing to say to that — and Emma Smart’s confidence only grew. The two stared into each others eyes for a time before Melissa stood and silently walked out.
————
The knock on the door was unexpected.
Deliberate. Firm. Clear.
Sally looked at the clock. 6:22pm. Jo would’ve called before she just dropped by at this hour on a Friday night. She thought as Jordan walked from the couch to the door to answer it. Could it be Ted? No. He would’ve called too…Who then? Hmm…
In short order, she had an answer.
When Jordan opened the door, Emma Smart was unmistakable standing neatly dressed in a pant-suit with a nylon briefcase slung over her shoulder. She looked pleasant but also ready for business.
Ah shit, Sally thought, she can just show up at our house whenever I guess too then huh?
Fantastic.
———
After a terse confrontation with Sally at the door, an eventual tour of the home led by Mindi, and short conversations with she and Jen in their room, Emma Smart found herself on Jordan’s bed with the door sealed. Sally had voluntarily taken her two others for a quick run to the grocery store. The tall brunette sat uncomfortably slouching in her computer chair looking as though she had had a hundred other things she’d rather be spending her evening doing (which was true).
“So Jordan has your Mom talked with you at all about why I came to the school a few weeks ago? Do you know why I’m here tonight?” Emma asked.
“Um…no…didn’t you say some people were concerned about me and so they called you?” Jordan asked.
“Yes that’s correct. I’m just asking if your Mom filled you in on any additional details about it? You no doubt noticed tonight that I spent some time talking with your siblings right? And I had a look around your home?”
“Yeah…?” Jordan replied not really understanding where the social worker was headed.
“Well. I’m here tonight just to continue observing — to make sure everything is ok here… Remember when we were at school and we talked some about your bedwetting?”
A jolt of electricity shot through Jordan’s neck. Her brown eyes flashed open and she sat up a little more straight. What the hell is this lady’s problem? Why does she keep wanting to talk about that? She immediately felt afraid of her secret becoming known.
She nodded.
“Well to be a little more up front with you about that Jordan, the person who initially made the report was concerned that the way you’ve been wearing…um…diapers…for that has been abusive because it hasn’t been you taking care of it yourself.”
Jordan looked at the social worker in silence, still not grasping the implications of her statement.
“Jordan, did you ask your mom to change your diapers?” (Hearing it phrased that way was odd for Jordan) “What I mean is, you’re thirteen years old you know? You put all your other clothes on yourself right? Your mom doesn’t help you with your panties like she did when you were three. How did it end up like this?”
Why is she talking with me about this? I don’t understand. What does this have to do with anything? She wondered to herself as her mind churned, thinking about all the events of the past months. Just as had occurred in previous conversations with her Mom (and with Ms. Smart) about the subject, Jordan was dreadfully concerned about answering in such a way that would end up causing her to lose her diapers. The shameful secret was one she
After a moment, she opened her mouth and carefully formed her reply. “Well they were leaking…the pull on ones you know…? And then when I tried like…diaper diapers…like with tapes…they leaked again and so — she just started helping me so with them…and they didn’t leak anymore…”
Emma nodded patiently, jotting in her notebook.
“So you asked her for help then? Or did she suggest it?”
What the hell? Jordan thought, frowning and slightly bulging her eyes but still not expressing her true thoughts. Why does this matter!?
“If you put it that way I guess she suggested it but…” she exhaled her frustration.
“Jordan I’m sorry if this seems weird or unnecessary but really, I’m just trying to help. Ok?”
The teenager nodded.
“Were you alright with that? I mean, I can imagine it could’ve been kinda uncomfortable or embarrassing to have your mom do that for you…did you argue with her about it? Did you feel forced or coerced?”
Even more scared now of being twisted into revealing her secret, Jordan treaded softly with her answer. “Um…well…I…I guess…not really…no…I mean…It was embarrassing sure…but…the whole problem…was…you know? And…um…I guess I didn’t think of it as being that much of a difference…I mean I’m a teenager who wears diapers.” (Jordan’s shame stung a little to say that phrase out loud.) “Does it really add much more humiliation that I had to have them put on me vs. wearing them in the first place?”
“Hmm. Well. Maybe you have a point there.”
Jordan felt relieved that maybe the social worker was gonna drop it.
But Emma Smart went on, “Now — I have to ask you a couple other questions, and they might be really hard to answer, but I want you to try ok?”
Jordan nodded almost imperceptibly.
“When your mom changes your diapers, does she ever touch you — your privates — in ways that make you uncomfortable? It might be hard to tell since touching is probably a necessary aspect of it — but does she ever touch you in a way that might seem like it should be kept secret or that you feel ashamed of?”
“What?! No! I mean. What are you talking about?” Jordan exclaimed feeling repulsed.
“Sorry Jordan. I just…well…in the couple of conversations we’ve had, I’ve noticed that you’ve been reluctant to talk about this…and sometimes when adults do hurtful things to kids involving private parts, kids have a hard time saying so. If something happened that you didn’t like — that made you feel bad or that you didn’t like — it isn’t your fault Jordan. And you aren’t gonna get in trouble if you talk about it. I wanna make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Jordan still felt afraid and confused — especially given that from her perspective, nothing like that had taken place.
Has it? She questioned herself more honestly. I mean. I liked what mom had been doing right? I felt embarrassed at first but not like what this lady is saying right? Mom wasn’t doing something wrong was she? The young girl’s mind raced, all of a sudden confused about much of what had taken place between she and her mom and the diapers.
After a long pause, she finally responded. “Well. I honestly never…ever…felt the way you say about what my Mom was doing for me… Like…it was embarrassing at first…but…it wasn’t like bad…” she raised her eyebrow and looked Emma in the eye for confirmation. “But what you’re saying now is confusing me…”
Shit. She immediately thought to herself. I shouldn’t’ve said that.
“What do you mean confusing?” Emma asked.
“Just that — well I was embarrassed and at first I didn’t like it at all — like the whole thing” Jordan scrambled, sounding defensive, “but it wasn’t because of the way she touched me or something — it was that I had to wear a diaper and that I needed help and that I felt like a baby — and yeah…that felt bad. But like I never thought she was doing something wrong or bad or whatever…And so now what you were just saying was confusing me…”
“Ok. Hmm.” The young woman replied scrawling more notes on her paper. Looking up she then said, “Now — You said something a minute ago — that kind of alluded that your mom isn’t doing this for you anymore? Is that true?”
“Actually yeah. Ever since about spring break, I’ve been doing it myself…I had to…um…learn how,” she carefully chose her words as she explained, not wanting to have to tell the social worker about her actual affinity for diapers, “to put my diapers on for my trip to Washington DC. And so after that, my mom just told me she’s too busy and stressed to take all that time every night. So I just do it.” She looked up hopefully, feeling a little relieved with the answer.
Emma Smart accepted the answer and after a few more forays, turned the conversation in an unexpected direction for Jordan.
“So…your dad used to date a lady named Melissa right?”
“Um…well…yeah…” Jordan said raise the edge of her mouth and furrowing her brow, not liking the mention of that woman in her presence.
“Did you by chance ever ask her to put a diaper on you?”
Oh shit. Thought Jordan as she took a big breath and allowed anger to flash across her eyes.
Just thinking about about the now infamous night in December, took her straight back to that horrific experience. Emma noticed this distress immediately and over what remained of their conversation, the teenager recounted with great precision exactly what had happened. By the end of her detailed monologue, Emma was wide eyed.
She politely closed the more formal part of the conversation, thanked Jordan for being so thorough and open with her answers, and told her that she probably would see her once or twice more during the summer (if that). After a few niceties, Emma Smart left the Reynolds’ house feeling much clearer about the entire scenario and more confident about what most likely had been taking place there.
—————
[Sunday, May 19, 2002]
Hearing of TJ Yates’ blackmail attempt so many months after it had taken place was mind numbingly aggravating for the man who’s life seemed to have been so out of control over the same period. He had been outplayed by Melissa who had created the CPS crisis in his divorce case. He had had his career on the edge of extermination at Hope Seattle, only saved by what he initially credited to the beneficence of a kind benefactor. He had seen his marriage crumble at the hands of his unrestrained selfishness and lust. And he had witnessed his relationships with his children shrivel into virtually nothing because of his blind ambition. The revelation that there had indeed been another puppet master behind the strings controlling something else in his life (even if it was something that worked out for the best), was beyond him.
That Friday afternoon a couple weeks before, Ted came as close as he ever had to resorting to violence in response to his rage. Instead of beating TJ Yates however, he luckily only beat his apartment door from the inside until his neighbors came and knocked from the outside to ensure that all was alright. The unit was located on Capital Hill and he shortly learned that the building’s inhabitants were rather tightly knit as a community. This worked in his favor when it became clear that his right hand bore the brunt of the episode and a man in his mid 40’s offered to drive Ted to the hospital for X-rays.
So there he sat, still in his splint and ace wrap, overlooking Lake Washington from his new therapists’ office and processing those very events from the past months. It was Ted’s Dad who had finally convinced him that maybe a professional would be helpful. This second appointment of what would eventually become a weekly ritual had focused on the way Ted treated himself.
“Listen Ted. You’re your own number one critic here. If you can’t come to grips with treating yourself with a little bit of respect, or it’s only gonna get worse. You’re not perfect Ted. Quit expecting it from yourself.”
The man in his mid 60’s stared Ted down with his blue eyes.
“As long as you require perfection from yourself Ted, you’re never gonna get over this anger. Listen man. It’s one thing to have high expectations…it’s another thing to never allow yourself anything less. Everyone screws up. Everyone makes mistakes. The thing that sets the best apart is their ability to see their worst nature, give themselves grace, shake it off, learn from it, and get back up and be better person for it. You have the capacity for that Ted. Your life isn’t over here.”
Ted nodded slowly processing and internalizing the words of the man who was slowly becoming a sage to him.
“So are you trying to tell me that part of why I’m so mad at TJ is because I’m really just mad at myself? Like…I haven’t dealt with giving myself a break for all the ways I’ve fucked up my own life and my whole family and pretty much everything…?” Ted Asked.
“I couldn’t have said it better brother.” The old man replied placing his hand on Ted’s knee. “We project all kinds of bullshit all the time. This is hard work what you’re doing here — taking responsibility for your life. But it will pay off in spades.”
As Ted thought about the conversations he had had with his oldest daughter over the past week or two, he couldn’t help but feel hope about his life having at least a minor turnaround.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 15, 2014 at 6:00 AM
Content: Chapter 44 - [Saturday June, 8 2002]
Jordan never came to know what her Mom had witnessed standing in her bedroom door that Friday evening in May. As far as she was aware, the diaper fetish websites were still her own private secret (as well as of course the pleasure she derived from them). However, the realization that she indeed was not alone in these desires had been a remarkable and even life-altering one.
Ever since Emma Smart’s home visit shortly after Sally’s shocking discovery, Jordan had tried to taper her daytime diaper wearing to just once or twice a week — afraid that somehow the social worker would return and find out about these true inclinations. At the same time, the young teen felt increased pressure from her Mom to ‘grow up’ over the same period of time.
Although Sally hadn’t let on specifically about what she had seen or deduced from the observation, her newfound faith reorientation helped solidify what Jordan had already been experiencing. Sally had essentially withdrawn completely from her prior positive attitude regarding ‘everything diaper related’ in the home. She had slowed the diaper orders, much more closely monitored Jordan’s usage, made comments on her apparent ‘dry nights’, questioned her about her ‘recovery process’ regarding her bedwetting, pointed forward with hope and positivity about the soon-coming time when she would ‘no longer need diapers anymore’, and of course for a long time had halted any engagement with Jordan’s old ‘nighttime routine’. In addition, the Single mother of three had continued to rely on Jordan (as the oldest child in the home) as Babysitter, stand-in cook, and general chore-doer.
The disturbing and yet somehow enchanting nighttime dreams had also continued to occur intermittently since the first one a couple weeks earlier. In fact, their intensity and vividness had increased over that period as well. Jordan believed she could tell no one about what had been happening in these anti-lucid states and so she felt entirely alone because of it. Alex and their other friends (and probably her Dad) would think them incredibly creepy. Jo, Ms. Smart, or any of her teachers probably would want her to see a shrink or something. And the tall teenager had no idea how to predict how her Mom might react to hearing such things, but it couldn’t possibly be good. So Jordan discovered she bore yet another level of secrecy.
Do I somehow want what happens in my dreams to happen to me in real life? Is that what I’m like really like? Do I like want to be some kind of baby or something? What’s going on with me? Jordan’s mind churned relentlessly. Am I just picking up on the stuff I saw from that website? Or is it that I like unconsciously want my Dad to take care of me like Mom used to? Maybe I’m only having those dreams cuz mom stopped…I’m so confused. I feel like I’m on my own to figure things out all over again; just like it was back when Mom and Dad were fighting so much.
In the wake of her new (and yet somehow old) situation, Jordan regressed back to coping with her most well known form of self-care. Writing. Of course, it hadn’t stopped over the previous couple of months. But in the weeks after Emma Smart’s home visit, the young writer had upped her focus and intentionality. The extra pressure from her Mom around the house along with minimal homework at the very end of the school year combined to produce a perfect storm for the girl who had no idea she was creating what would become a teenage sensation. By the time the day for departure to camp arrived, her book was nearly complete.
That Saturday afternoon in June, Jordan reviewed in her mind the progress she had made. Ok. So, the story so far has focused on Frankie George as a pretty young kid. He knows he’s different than other kids. Obviously, the major plot development and ‘problem’ of the book is how he learns to recognize and then control his secret ability of invisibility. His fear ends up being the controlling factor for him. When he feels completely confident and at peace, he disappears to everyone around him. When he’s afraid or anxious, he’s like a normal kid. But of course, because Frankie’s life is so volatile, peace and security comes to him only very rarely. She continued to think about her creation and process the plot line in her mind. She thought about the way his life mirrored hers (but in amplified ways).
Frankie’s field trip to the Science Center helps him with discovering his skill as well as the football game in PE class that one day. She smiled to herself thinking about the funny scenario. I also really like the character Billy Wells, Frankie’s arch enemy. The way Frankie takes it upon himself to stand up for all the other kids that Billy picks on is inspiring. The chapter with the spelling bee was fun too — and I think it gives Frankie (even though he’s young) a little idea that his special power can be abused which will be good if I end up writing more. It seems like ending on his Mom and Dad ‘discovering’ his discovery during his birthday party — but then revealing to him just a little bit more to him about his past is a good idea as well. It adds just the right ‘hook’ for future installments.
Sitting at her computer desk in her bedroom, Jordan closed the document file and saved it on a small plastic USB drive. At the time when she had received the device from NPR as one of the parting gifts for her big ‘win’, Jordan had no idea what it even did. But over the past month or so (after Alex had explained to her the usefulness of such devices) the budding author had taken to using it for editing her book both at home and at school; effectively doubling her available time for writing. She popped the digital completed version of her book in her pocked and set her mind to the next project: finishing packing for her imminent departure to camp in just a couple of hours.
——————
Sally sat reading her Bible in the plush upholstered chair in the master bedroom as her daughters played in the living room and Jordan prepared for camp in her bedroom. Jo Miller had offered to drive Jordan up to Camp White Pines some time ago and Sally had accepted the offer (albeit with a touch of reservation). The two mothers hadn’t hardly spoken in several weeks. Thus, Sally’s most recent breakdown and therefore her fundamentalist reorientation to life had become more entrenched than it might have otherwise. She flipped a delicate page and underlined some words in the Psalms as her mind shamefully drifted to the cigarettes she had enjoyed around her friend in her most stressful states not long ago. Over the weeks since her transformation, Sally had spent nearly all of her free time reading the Bible and other religious books, resorted to corporal punishment with Mindi and Jen when they didn’t mind her after her first requests, and required a great deal more out of Jordan than she had ever in the past.
She’s nearly a grown woman now. The majority of the female heroes in the Bible were married by the time they were her age or a year older. It’s time that she learns how to cook and clean a little. No more coddling. No more babying. She thought, clearly envisioning Jordan’s diaper supply and bedwetting habit. She’s got a rude awakening coming for her.
Sally’s mind shifted slightly as it hardened around her plan to quit buying diapers altogether for her oldest daughter. Once what we’ve got is all used up, I’m not buying any more. Just like the rest of the adult universe, she’s gonna have to change her own sheets in the morning. What adult in their right mind LIKES ‘diapering up’ like a baby anyways? This is sick and I’m not gonna be a part of it.
Just then Sally heard a knock on her door and she looked up. (Requiring knocking before entering her room had been just one of many ‘politeness’ changes Sally had recently initiated — regardless if the door had already been open.)
“Yes? What is it?” she answered.
“Hi mom, it’s me. Jordan.”
“Oh. Come in dear.” Sally said politely.
“Um. I’m just finishing packing for the summer—“
“Great.” She said interrupting. “Mrs. Miller will be here to pick you up soon.” She looked at her alarm clock. “It should be about an hour and a half from now. Be sure to get the kitchen cleaned up from lunch before then….Ok?”
Jordan felt astonished at the rapid changes in her home and a rush of loneliness came over her young body and soul right then and there. At the same time, the thought of escaping the war zone that her home had become once again filled her with an odd happiness. I’m so glad I get to be away for the summer. She thought. This is the definition of insanity.
“…Um…yeah ok. Sure Mom.”
“Good.” Sally said, putting her book up to read again as if Jordan had entered the room at her bequest in the first place.
“Um…Mom?”
“Yes?” She looked up, not annoyed; but on the verge of it.
“…Well…um…I’m not sure I have enough…diapers…for the summer…I mean…It’s like 10 weeks right? That’s 70 diapers; one for each night…I mean…maybe I can reuse a few if they’re dry or whatever (and I guess since I haven’t been wetting every night that is pretty likely)…but…we don’t even have a full case left and there are only 48 in a case in the first place…sooo…umm…”
Jordan felt sheepish talking to her mom about diapers after her mom’s distancing of herself from their nightly routine — and particularly after all the routine comments regarding her bedwetting progress. She had taken it upon herself to carefully pack what was left of the single open package and the 3 remaining sealed packages of 12 into a nondescript cardboard box. Months earlier, when Sally had been more understanding about the whole diaper wearing phenomenon, the two had discovered an official protocol Camp White Pines had for bedwetters. The diapers were supposed to be taken to the camp along with Jordan’s normal luggage for the summer but when she arrived, the nurse in the registration line would take possession of her ‘diaper bag’. The nurse would then store and dispense the diapers for the duration of the summer. The idea was that at specified intervals (as decided by the two of them) Jordan would make visits to her for evaluations. At those times, she would gather small resupplies to store discretely in her small room/cubby. The arrangement had made sense to both the teenager and her Mom.
Of course, by the time the day for Jordan’s departure arrived, the thirteen-year-old was mature enough to count her supply and come to the realization that she was almost 30 diapers shy of her summer necessity.
“Hmm…well…that’s quite a problem you’ve got dear.” Sally said emphasizing the personal pronoun. “How’re you gonna handle it?”
“What do you mean mom? I’m telling you aren’t I? Will you please order some more and maybe have them delivered up there for me?” Jordan said not in a snippy tone but with an edge of confidence to it.
“No. I will not be doing that Jordan.” She paused and let the words sink in.
“In fact, I’m sorry, but what you have is all you’ll ever get. I’m not planning on purchasing any more of those things for you.” She waited a second longer, witnessing the shock register on her daughter’s face — not in glee or in superiority — but simply in stern authority. “After these are used, you will deal with your medical problem like an adult until you are able to resolve it… Of course, Adults. Don’t. Wear. Diapers.”
The finality of Sally’s words were stunning for Jordan to hear. She knew her Mom had been behaving differently and perhaps had been making some changes in her overall philosophy to life; but this kind of talk was really quite foreign. It was also painful.
Everything really is changing. Whether I like it or not. Nothing will be the same again. Jordan thought. She turned and walked silently out of the master bedroom, knowing she had no chance of successfully winning this particular battle (or even how to fight it).
—————
Ted stopped by the house just before Jordan’s departure for camp to offer his goodbyes. While she was distracted, he slipped an envelope with $100 spending money inside her suitcase along with a simple note wishing her a fantastic summer and reminding her he was proud of all her accomplishments. The pleasantries at the Reynolds’ household were cordial that afternoon (even between Ted and Sally, which was rather surprising for Jordan).
At one point during his visit, Jordan was able to talk with her Dad away from everyone else.
With great trepidation and fear, she said “Dad I’m wondering if you’d be willing to do a favor for me…?”
“Well yeah sweetie, if I can. Of course.” He said not absent-mindedly but clearly not matching her high level of intensity.
“Dad. I’m serious.” She replied a little more intent on getting his affirmation. “I need a favor and it’s a really big deal to me. Please don’t say you’ll do it unless you promise you’ll do it like I ask.”
“Jordan. Ok. Well, tell you what — I won’t promise unless I can guarantee I’ll get it done. Ok?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at her. “Now how about you tell me what it is and I’ll tell you if I can do it or not?”
“Ok.” She said hesitatingly. “Well. You remember my last story right?”
He nodded.
“Well…um…I’ve been working on a new one…except this one’s longer…it’s like…a book…and—”
“Wow!” He exclaimed, interrupting her, “That’s great Jordan! Have you told your mom! I’m so proud of you!”
“Wait! Dad. Listen. I think mom knows I’ve been working on it and that’s fine. It’s just…I just…well…she’s just been acting kinda weird…about all kinds of stuff…and…well…I’m going away for the summer…and—”
“What honey?” Ted asked interrupting her again, clueless to where she was going with her set of anxieties.
“I’m worried that she might like…clean out my room and get rid of my computer…or if she found it on there, she’d erase it or something…” Jordan said almost embarrassed now of her fears. She had been thinking long and hard for several days about her fears and she knew she didn’t just want to leave her story on the computer. It would be far too risky in her mind. She decided she needed to entrust it with someone but she had no idea who; every idea ended up being a dead end. Mrs. Miller was too good of friends with her Mom be relied upon to not tell (of course Jordan didn’t know that Sally hadn’t been calling Jo much lately). Mr. Johns wasn’t an option as she now regarded him as her quasi-enemy. Each of her girlfriends would be at camp along with her so they wouldn’t work. And other folk like school administrators or Emma Smart just weren’t close enough to be trusted.
Dad is my only solution. She had thought earlier that day, feeling frustrated at being backed into a corner.
“Jordan!” Ted said condescendingly. “Your mom would never do som—“
“Dad please. I don’t have that much time. I don’t want to debate this with you. Mom’s different now, ok? And I think she just might. It scares me….So I have my story saved on this USB thing…do you know what these are?” Jordan fished the plastic device out of her jeans shorts’ pocket and held it up.
“Yeah. We have a couple around the office. Pretty cool deals.” He said seemingly losing his train of thought for a moment.
“Ok. Well it’s on here saved. And I was hoping you could keep it safe for me for the summer…I don’t want to take it to camp because it would almost for sure gonna get wrecked or stolen up there…and I’ve worked super hard on it and I just don’t want to lose it you know? Would you promise to do that for me? Please? Keep it safe? This is a really really big deal to me Dad. I don’t have any other options right now.”
Ted took a deep breath and paused for a moment.
“Jordan.” He looked at her straight in the eye. “You can trust me with this. I promise to keep it safe. I promise to take care of it. And as soon as you get back, I’ll give it right back to you.”
“Ok Dad. Thanks so much!” She smiled and handed the USB drive over before offering him a quick hug.
“Now I have a quick question for you though” He said.
“Oh? What’s that?” She said.
“Well…can I read it?” He asked smiling.
She thought for a moment…sincerely thinking in silence. “Ok. Sure Dad. You can read it.” She said, returning the grin.
When it was time for Jordan to get in the Miller’s car, she found herself unexpectedly pulling a little more closely and tightly (and for a little longer) to her Dad than to her mother. This was an odd and novel experience for the thirteen year old girl who for essentially the duration of her short life had almost exclusively favored her mother in every way. But now, in a way that she could not have described, that seemed to be shifting; and she wasn’t even sure if she liked it.
The ground seemed to be moving right underneath her feet.
—————
In the car, Alex cackled long and hard about how much she was looking onward to the summer. Through the BCS grapevine, she had learned that both Georgia and Cindy were in their cabin, but that the other 4 girls of the 8 total were unknowns. Furthermore, she had discovered through Georgia that their primary cabin counselor was a Education Major college student from Seattle Pacific University who had worked as a student teacher in the high school at BCS that year. Kari was her name and she had been almost universally beloved that year (although the majority of the Jr. High students hardly had any acquaintance with her). Georgia had said that Kari’s cabins were always the most cute in terms of decoration and that theirs in particular that summer was nicknamed ‘Dragonfly’.
But the thing that Alex yammered on the most about during the 4hr car ride down south was how excited she was about sharing her room/cubby with Jordan. “It’ll be like we’re sisters.” She had said, smiling and hugging Jordan on the back bench seat of the Mercedes SUV.
Of course, Alex didn’t have any actual siblings and so there was a part of her interest that was no doubt rooted in the novelty of the experience. Jordan’s best friend went on and on about decorating their ‘room’ (in fact, Jo had purchased them matching Twin size comforters for their beds), sharing clothes, telling stories at night, doing pedicures and manicures, fixing each other’s makeup, and telling secrets. As she did, Jordan uncomfortable around her friend for one of the first times in her entire life.
She couldn’t help but allow the thought creep into her head: Is Alex like — attracted to me — in like a ‘more than a friend’ kind of way? Could all her excitement be really about ‘something else’ here?
She felt guilty and confused as the questions arose, but she couldn’t help herself. Is Alex — like — attracted to girls or something? I mean, she’s never said so before but at the same time, she’s never had a boyfriend before… But…neither have I until Joey this spring so that seems pretty unreasonable of me to judge her based on that. And she’s always talking about boys so… I dunno… She second guessed herself. Maybe I’m just a little sensitive after all this stuff with my mom.
Having been raised a typical girl in conservative Christian subculture, Jordan had great judgment for anyone who identified as homosexual and the very thought of it was a huge taboo in her mind. She remembered the accusations and rumors that had once been passed around about her by Georgia, Riley, and Cindy (at least as far as she had heard from Alex) and how much it had bothered her to be associated as a lesbian (even falsely). She wasn’t sure what she would do if Alex actually was one — let alone if she wants to ‘be with me’ or something! ICK!!
Through her diatribe, Alex didn’t even breathe a word about Jordan’s greatest anticipation about camp: Joey Michael. This too caused Jordan to feel weird — but mostly a little passed over and ignored. She and Joey had been ‘going out’ since the end of April. Even though they didn’t talk a whole lot (he was still just a thirteen year old boy and quite a bit more immature than Jordan), they still hung out together and did talk about how much fun they would have at camp. Of course Jordan, in full pubescent glory, envisioned the summer as a kind of amazing romantic getaway with ‘her man’.
All these ideas rolled through the young girl’s mind as they bumped along the road closer and closer to the camp on the Columbia River Plateau; and all the while her best friend continued to talk almost nonstop — seemingly oblivious to what was really on her mind.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 17, 2014 at 10:11 AM
Content: Chapter 45 [June 22, 2002]
Camp White Pines was picturesque from a 7th (or 8th) grader’s perspective. Overlooking the Columbia River just outside the boundaries of Mt. Rainier National Park, the camp was organized in four sets of concentric circles, each of which had a 90 degree notch cleared out to allow for the amazing view of the river gorge.
The most outer ring was a 2 mile loop and encircled the multiple trailhead areas, a rock climbing wall, horsemanship arena, worship center, and each of the other loops. The second largest ring contained a grouping of administrative buildings (including the infirmary), a gymnasium, indoor pool, service buildings, staff housing, and the mess hall. Two half circles of 10 cabins each (boys on one side and girls on the other) made up the second inner most loop. The smallest ring in the center was not much more than a dusty gravel road that encircled a large grassy field. The campfire/amphitheater was at the edge of the field at the center of each of the notches of the four rings overlooking the river.
Jordan’s first week and a half or so at camp had mirrored the seeming perfection of its environment. She, Alex, their girlfriends, Joey, and a couple of his friends had all been lucky enough to get assigned the same ‘classes’ over that period. They all enjoyed wake boarding, mountain biking, and t-shirt screen printing together as a pack. The group of friends had almost been inseparable outside of those times as well: eating together in the mess hall, sitting together at campfire programs, and playing together in the all-camp big events. For the tallest girl in camp, almost everything had been ideal.
Beyond that, the thirteen year old also had found herself outside what had become nearly unbearable pressures of stress and drama at home. Her parent’s divorce, sibling jealousy, and what she perceived as some kind of personality split in the last month by her mom were all like distant memories in the rear-view mirror. Jordan felt as though she was simply free ‘to be a kid’ again at the wonderland of camp. The added bonus of having no babysitting responsibilities or pressure to do chores only added to her bliss.
Kari, Jordan’s counselor, was a dream. She listened carefully to Jordan and the other ‘dragonfly’ girls in long conversations. She played enthusiastically with them in all their activities and games (rather than sitting out and watching from the sideline like a boring adult). And she offered relatively little judgment or oversight on their day to day activities (it was one of the first solid periods in Jordan’s life where she didn’t have someone nagging her about showers, deodorant, teeth brushing, or the propriety of non-school outfits). Kari was without a doubt ‘cool’.
Yet everything hadn’t been peaches and cream for the tallest girl in camp. Her year-long nightly visitor hadn’t abandoned her simply by changing sleeping venue and increasing her daily quotient of fun. (In fact, Jordan had awoken wet 10 out of the first 15 nights.) It hadn’t been easy keeping everything a secret either. But perhaps the worst part of camp thus far was that by some fluke, Amber and Nicole had been assigned to the Dragonfly cabin along with Jordan and her pack of friends as well.
——
As planned, when Jo dropped Alex and Jordan off for registration and check in, Jordan had had a private conversation with the camp nurse. This wasn’t an unusual thing per se for any camper as the woman dressed in a white doctor’s overcoat had to talk with any kid who even had something as minor as a prescription medication! Even Alex had to stop by her booth for a visit. During Jordan’s first interaction with the nurse, she had rifled through her portable file cabinet to find the girl’s application and scanned it; quickly spotting “enuresis” penciled in.
“Jordan I need to ask you a couple quick questions ok? I hope you don’t feel embarrassed but it’s important. You need to know that this is completely private and no one can hear us where we’re sitting. Alright?” The two had sat opposite of each other at a table enclosed by temporary office cubicles in the camp gymnasium. The next people in line were sitting in a small semicircle of chairs angled away from the nurse’s cubicle.
Jordan had nodded in agreement.
“Sometimes by enuresis, people mean nighttime accidents; other times it means accidents during the day. Which do you have trouble with? Or is it both?…”
She had looked up expectant of Jordan’s response, pencil in hand to make notes.
Daytime accidents? What the hell? Why would I be showing up at camp if I peed in my pants all the time? I’ve never heard of a kid my age doing that! Jordan thought, not realizing she was taking quite a long time to respond. Do teenagers really have those kinds of problems as well? What strange world.
“Jordan honey,” the nurse sensed awkwardness in the teen’s delay and jumped in again, “it’s fine either way. There will actually be quite a few kids up here this summer with both kinds of issues. You’re not the only one. I just need to have accurate information here at the beginning so I know how to help you as the summer goes on.” She had leaned in and kindly added, “I understand how this needs to be kept quiet and I promise I’ll keep it hush hush.”
The woman’s second sentence had jarred Jordan out of her processing and she had finally sputtered, “Oh yeah, for sure. Um…no…it only happens at night…”
“Ok thanks.” She had scribbled some notes on her pad before asking, “Now, how often does it usually take place?”
“…Uh…” Jordan’s mind rapidly flashed to shame and processed the options of lying, exaggerating, minimizing, or simply telling the truth. She quickly opted for the latter, “…well…most nights…but it seems like it’s been less and less over the last month or so…”
“Mmmm hmmm. I see. Ok. Now I see on your intake form here that you wear some…protection… at night? We usually keep everyone’s stuff in the infirmary because a summer’s worth of ‘supplies’ are too much to store in your cabins. Did you bring enough…pads…for the summer?”
“…Um…ye…yeah…” she had stuttered, motioning behind her where two suitcases and a duffel bag, sat.
“Ok well it looks like you’ve followed the instructions pretty well, so this should be easier with you than it is with some of the others. At the next station, you’ll drop off all your luggage, and the staff member there will put your cabin number on your bags. What you need to do is put this red ribbon on the suitcase that has your supplies in it; that’ll tell the staff to take it to me in the infirmary where I’ll keep it safe for the summer instead of to your cabin. You know where the infirmary is right? It’s on the third ring which is just the next ring out from where your cabin will be and it’s on the same side of camp as the girls’s cabins which is lucky for you…short walk.” She had smiled and looked up for Jordan’s attention; the young teen’s eyes were glued in fear and anticipation.
“Your counselor has a small cabinet in her quarters in the cabin where she’ll keep a smaller few-day supply on hand for you and you can ask her to get one for you each night when you go shower and get ready for bed. All the counselors have had campers with this…problem…before and so she’ll know how to look out for you and keep it secret.”
The middle-aged woman who looked authoritative slid the red cord across the table toward her. Jordan’s heart beat a little faster. She wasn’t surprised by the plan per se — but the thought of her counselor being so intimately involved in it all was more frightening than she had initially anticipated. Kari would be yet another person she would have to learn to trust with her secret. More afraid now, she felt that the more people let in on it, the more likely for it to become generally known.
The nurse had gone on to talk about how she would do a checkup evaluation with Jordan in a couple weeks to see how she was doing and instructed her to talk with her counselor if she had any problems or concerns. A period of silence had hung in the room and Jordan began to realize that the nurse had asked her a question which she had missed entirely, caught in the thoughts in her head.
“Did you hear me Jordan? Do you understand everything? Any questions or concerns?” The nurse had asked.
“No. I think I got it. Thanks for your help.” She tried to smile and got up to leave.
“Oh wait, we have some other questions first.”
Jordan’s spirit dropped, What now!?
But it was only the remainder of the normal health interview that every camper received at the beginning of the summer — nothing Jordan had to be concerned about. Hopefully the rest of the summer will be smooth sailing Jordan had thought as she walked to the luggage drop-off.
————
And it had been smooth more or less. Kari, besides being fun, interested in her campers’ lives, energetic, and entertaining, turned out to be more than empathetic about Jordan’s situation than the young teen had given her credit for. Kari had gone WAY out of the way to keep the girl’s secret a secret and had pulled her aside in private to strategize the first night about how to deal with diapers. As Jordan had anticipated, talking with her counselor about her bedwetting and diapers was very uncomfortable — but it was also liberating in an odd way. Her confidence seemed to grow a little bit by the fact that Kari, this seemingly cool college girl, hadn’t batted an eyelash about her babyish problem.
Of course, it remained a completely hidden secret that she actually liked wearing diapers and apparently liked being cared for sort of like a baby. But never-the-less, a new confidant on any level was welcome company for the girl who seemed to have so few strong pillars in her life, particularly over the past several months.
The Dragonfly cabin was not unlike the others in camp, except it’s themed paint job featured the colorful insects of its namesake. The counselor’s quarters were located in the front portion of the long rectangle shaped unit adjacent to the pair of showers and toilet rooms. A small landing/hallway separated them and led to the back and larger part of the cabin. Thus, when a person walked in the front door of the unit, he or she would pass by the showers on the left, take a hard turn in a narrow hall past the counselor’s room to the right, and then almost immediately turn left again before going through a door that opened into the long hallway that hugged the far wall of the cabin. This received each of the campers’ sleeping cubbies and terminated in another (emergency-exit) door. Jordan and Alex’s space was the first room on the left and had a small window in nestled behind its bunk bed frame.
Each evening over those first couple of weeks, Jordan had waited until the rest of the girls in ‘dragonfly’ had showered to take her turn. Part of the plan that she and Kari had put into place was that the counselor would feign ‘rushing’ Jordan to bed as the last girl each evening, shutting the light off as she entered the long hallway into which each sleeping cubby emptied. That way no one would be able to see anything suspicious by accident. Furthermore, Kari had suggested that each night, Jordan take her bathroom supplies to the shower in a plastic grocery bag instead of her fancy flowery zippered bag so that it’s crinkle would mask that produced by her attire. Jordan had thought the idea was genius.
Each morning, Jordan would use that very plastic bag to tightly seal off her wet diaper with a knot — this she would do while still in her sleeping bag. And amazements of amazements, Kari had suggested that when the whole cabin would clear out for their daily classes, she’d just reach in Jordan’s bag, grab the plastic sack, and dispose of it for her.
“You’ll do that for me?” Jordan had asked mystified and grateful.
“Sure girl. I want you to have an amazing time at camp — not be all stressed out about someone finding out about your secret. I’ll take care of it. No worries. Just make sure you get it all sealed up in the bag. I don’t wanna stick my hand in there and find anything gross.” She had made a joking ‘ick’ face and gave the seventh grader who towered over her a hug.
Jordan had almost cried right there and hugged her counselor back.
As far as she was concerned, the plan had worked too. Everyone seemed oblivious to what was happening each night. Everyone except Alex that is.
—————
On the second Friday night they had been at camp, almost 2 weeks in, Jordan had snuck (as had become usual) into her small sleeping cubby with her purple Molicare diaper quietly crinkling under her volleyball shorts and pajama pants. As she had crawled into bed on the lower bunk, Alex leaned over the rail. With her head upside down and dark brown pony tail dangling in the moonlight, she had smiled and asked Jordan in hushed whispers if she was having fun so far.
“Yeah…? Aren’t you?” Jordan had replied.
“Of course!! It’s amazing here!” She had paused. “So…are you worried someone’s gonna find out?”
“What? About what?” The girl in the diaper asked.
“You know…I couldn’t really tell just so you know…I tried to see just now and it was hard to tell. Your butt just looks maybe a little bigger…maybe even better in a way…” she has whispered.
“Alex! Shut up! Someone’s gonna hear you!” Jordan had hissed feeling annoyed and embarrassed. Many of the thoughts from her car ride had resurfaced in that comment and the realization that her friend had been purposely watching her butt with such an interest. Alex’s demeanor was happy, nonchalant, and perhaps curious. “And what the hell? I don’t wanna hear about how my butt looks right now.”
A short silence had ensued and Alex had raised her head back out of sight. But then, her bare feet had dangled over the edge of the bed and almost instantly she appeared on the floor in front of Jordan’s face, apparently having leapt from the top with catlike dexterity.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you you uncomfortable. I’m just…curious…I guess…” She paused for a moment, the inky silence of the cabin swallowing both of them for a few moments. “…I’ve just…I guess…I’ve never like…even…seen you in one…”
The comment didn’t help Jordan’s suspicions that her best friend might somehow be trying to hit on her in or something. “Alex”, she whispered, “just stop ok? I don’t wanna talk about it with you alright?”
“I just…I…I’m…” Alex had stuttered quietly, sitting next to the bottom bunk on the floor. She quit talking and just remained still.
“Plus that’s not even true, you saw me the night of my party.” Jordan had blurted out finally after another long silence.
“But I didn’t.” Alex had immediately said as if she had planned the response. “I only saw your legs and knew what your Mom was doing; but I didn’t actually see anything.”
Jordan had initiated the silence again then. “Well. I don’t know why or even what you’re asking me for. It’s weird Alex. It’s just my night time underwear....Can we just drop it please?”
It had then been Alex’s turn to join Jordan in the embarrassment. She waited a few moments and then quietly climbed the ladder back to her place on top of the bunk bed. Almost more than any other conversation she had had about her diapers, Jordan had thought that this one might’ve taken the cake for awkwardness.
————
A little bit later, as the tall girl laid in bed looking up at the moon through the window above her head, she couldn’t help but wonder if Alex might be one of those people she had seen online. I guess that would mean, one of those people like me…nah; that’d never happen.
Only a few weeks prior during a particularly poignant bout of loneliness and anxiety about her situation, Jordan had made the off-handed query in her mind if there might be other people in the world like her…folks who wore diapers regularly and somehow, incredibly, liked them as well. That relatively innocuous question had led her to a website that featured pictures and stories and what seemed to be a whole community of people in her category. Since then, before heading up to camp, Jordan had scoured the web for other sites related to “ABDL” as she had learned people called the apparent desires she shared with them. Very few ‘hits’ had come up other than the original ‘diaper disposal’ site and none of them seemed to be quite as high of quality.
But the discovery caused her to wonder if indeed she might actually know people who shared her odd set of inclinations. Dr. Yepp and Emma Smart said that bedwetting is really common for kids and the camp nurse up here said lots of kids wear diapers just like me; could any of them actually like them? And does Alex? Is that why she’s acting so weird? I wonder what she’d say if she saw those pictures on that site?
- - - Updated - - -
We're getting right down to it folks...very close to the end hold on tight...
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 21, 2014 at 11:44 PM
Content: Chapter 46 - [Sunday, June 23, 2002]
Ted scrolled casually through the word document, his glowing monitor shining on his face in the early morning darkness. The Hope Seattle offices were always quiet on Sundays and he relished the moments alone. As a Christian organization, most of the employees went to church and the majority of the residents did as well. But the father of three was up at work far before religious services would come to have any effect on office activity. It was 5:42am.
Jordan’s story fascinated him. The narrative itself was interesting but also the fact that it had come out of his own child and her experience. He couldn’t help but think of all the subconscious recesses of her mind the different tendrils of the plot must’ve lined up with her own experience.
Beyond that, Ted was genuinely blown away by her artistic talent and execution. The first story that had won her the competition had truly been impressive. This one was even better yet — and on a much larger scale. George says it ought’a be twelve chapters instead of the ten she’s got it divided into now; and at almost thirty-thousand words, that’ll be a hefty young-adult novel. I’m so thankful he was willing to work through it for her; what a gift and an asset!
He smiled to himself as he thought about how excited she’d be about the possibility of actually getting her story legitimately published. Ted’s mind floated back to the conversation he had had with the old college buddy who had become a copy editor at a local magazine. Over lunch the week prior, he had asked him if he’d read his daughter’s work and give her a few pointers. But just as Ted had been, George was enraptured by the teenager’s style and content — drawn in by the story and convinced that it had to be shared.
George gave it a full-blown edit and offered Ted a plethora of solid critiques and changes to the material to pass on to Jordan. “She’s got a ton of talent Ted; this is amazing stuff!” he had said as he passed the marked-up printed copy back to his friend.
In fact, George had promised to float a rough-edit of the book (with some of the changes) to some of his friends ‘in the industry’ with Ted’s consent (and assuming that Jordan’ would be alright with it). Ted thought that she probably would jump at the opportunity and had given the ‘go-ahead’.
Wouldn’t that be an amazing thing?! He thought, shutting down the computer and watching the sun long tentacles of sunlight creep down Seattle’s streets toward the water. What if Jordan became a professional teenage author in her own right? Wow! She seems so young to be growing up that fast.
————
[June 23, 2002 - 4:23am]
The young girl felt completely warm, safe, and secure. Nestled in the crook of his elbow. The dark curly hair of his forearm tickled her cheek. His smell was calming; a mixture of sweat and aftershave. His breathing quieting.
The bulging plastic and fluff in between her legs was large and warm and bulbous — yet soft. Covered by layers of fabric, her delicate hand didn’t reach to touch it. Now completely out of any harms way, there was no need to check for leaks. Just relax fully and trust.
She stirred.
The size of his arm immediately felt huge compared to her tiny body. She could feel her bare feet curled up in the palm of his hand, pressed up against the soft dampness of her diaper. One of her small chubby hands was pushed up close to her face and the other was smashed somewhere down around his arm. It felt like a warm, stable tree trunk.
She heard herself whimper ever so softly.
The trunk became more firm. Soft flesh became more rigid. Warmth started to cool.
She turned her head to nestle her face in more comfortably in his elbow but it too had started to become unyielding. Splintery. The wonderful feel of hair replaced by slivers. The pleasant odors replaced by dust.
She heard herself whimper again, this time a little louder.
She began to wake.
As her eyes creaked open, the young girl realized she wasn’t indeed an infant under her Daddy’s tender care but just her old diapered self at summer camp. On the lower bunk, Jordan had somehow wrestled the foam mattress in such a way that it leaned all the way up against the wall, exposing the bare wood of the bed-frame beneath her. She lay largely uncovered from her sleeping bag on that hard surface, completely off the mattress and clinching the raised hewn wood side rail opposite of the wall. Her pillow was pushed up against the head of the lower bunk area and she was scrunched toward the lower end with her legs and feet tied up in the sleeping bag.
It was still dark out in the early morning hours, the third Sunday of the summer.
The teenager’s diaper was very wet. The third night in a row & the eleventh time since she had been at camp.
She began to silently cry in self-pity as she started to realize just how much she longed for the kind of tender-loving care no longer available to her. With the short-sightedness of any pre-teen, she simply couldn’t get ahold of the emotions crashing in her head with incredible strength. Jordan lay in bed, scrunched up in her sleeping bag, rocking back and forth, warm and alone. Silently weeping.
————
[June 23, 2002 - 8:02am]
Every other week at Camp White Pines, campers had to switch classes so that everyone would get a turn at the ‘best’ offerings. The first signups had happened during the registration period during the school year and so kids could easily compare notes and strategize with one another. Once camp was in session, new class assignments took place on Sunday mornings right before breakfast; campers were required to put in their requests to their counselors the Saturday night before. Jordan’s pack had already come up with a plan for what they were going to do on this, the second rotation of the summer. First choice: horsemanship. Second choice: rock climbing. Third choice: hiking. Fourth choice: Indian Jewelry. Fifth choice: culinary arts.
The boys hadn’t seemed particularly thrilled about the more ‘feminine’ choices on the list (nor had Alex who was much more into athletics and ‘action’ than sitting around flipping omelets), but they all knew it was impossible to get assigned to three ‘active’ classes in any one rotation. It just never happened, even if all five choices were in that realm, the ‘powers that be’ would just automatically assign them to a third class like wicker basket making or toenail art. Everyone with any experience at camp knew that it was better to settle on your own ‘indoor’ classes as options because it was inevitable anyways. So at campfire on Saturday night, Jordan’s posse had all agreed on the same order to request — giving them the best chance once again to land together for the second rotation.
After Jordan was out of bed and cleaned up that Sunday morning, she and her ‘Dragonflies’ made their way to the mess hall. The other girls crowded around the posted class sheets on the bulletin board before her as they walked in the building. Shrieks of delight and dismay immediately filled the room as other cabins arrived and crowded around. The girl who towered over most of them couldn’t tell if her friends were happy or dismayed. Soon enough it was clear — there was chaos in the dragonfly clan.
Not only had their small clan been divided, not one of them had received their first choice for classes in the second rotation of the summer. The only class the dragonfly girls shared together was swimming lessons (as in, learning all the different strokes in the pool), and it was the final class of each day. The worst part about it was that their entire cabin, including Nicole and Amber, were signed up for the class…so even though she and her girlfriends got to be together, torment was inevitable.
As for the other classes, the girls and boys were largely divided. Jordan had been dumped into ceramics and outdoor survival skills during the first two periods and Alex was in rock climbing and somehow ended up in t-shirt making again. Their other friends had similar results, spread all over the camp.
We might as well not have even given them our requests!!! This is gonna be a terrible couple of weeks. The young teenager thought, shifting her weight into her chair in the mess hall, ready for breakfast. Why does this kind of crap always seem to happen to me?!
———————
A little over two weeks earlier, on the Saturday afternoon of check-in, Nicole and Amber traveled to camp together in a rickety old Honda Accord wagon with a leaky exhaust. Amber’s family had already left for their summer vacation and Nicole’s Mom had to work. Thus, transportation duty was left up to the only remaining family member in Nicole’s family, Auntie Anne.
Anne Rodgers had squawked the entire way from Seattle, going on and on and on about all the drama at her work in the hospital: this nurse said ‘such and such’ about one nurse and then she said ‘such and such’ about the other who went and talked to the supervisor who hd to send out an email to the whole department before a doctor ‘got frisky’ with the first nurse who’s actually married to a different doctor from another department…
The two girls had hardly been able to follow her endless (and seemingly mindless) banter on the four hour car ride. The jarring bumps, smell of smoke, and cramped quarters had only added to their misery.
Yet — about two thirds of the way into the trip, Nicole’s Aunt Anne started babbling about odd patients and experiences she had had at her job in the ER. This inevitably led to her telling the girls about ‘this young girl — I think about your guys’ age — and I think actually from your school’ who had come in with a ‘really bad bladder infection’ this past winter. She had gone on to talk about how the girl had been ‘wearing a full blown baby diaper’. From Anne’s perspective, the girl had looked ridiculous in the big poofy purple garment and she just couldn’t help herself but to stare and to try to get another look at the sight. ‘She ended up having a really bad diaper rash too! Like — like — little babies do!!’ Anne had bumbled, going on and on about the girl.
As the story about Jordan in the hospital took shape (of course without the ever-important detail of her name), Amber and Nicole’s attention perked up. They could hardly believe their good fortune. The crazy narrative matched up almost perfectly with the other things they had come to believe to be true about ‘Jordan-dear’. It wasn’t a smoking gun, but it was close.
Through feigned but clouded interest, the girls nosed more and more information out of Anne who happily told them all about the incident and everything she had seen: how the girl had come into the hospital completely out of it because of the infection; how the diaper had been completely obvious and smelly; how she had seen her wearing it in the room; and how she and the nurses had made fun of her at the nurses station. The girl had been one of the weirder patients they had ever seen with her Mom so carefully monitoring all her care, changing her diapers right there in the room like someone might for a two year old.
“HA! Can you imagine that!” She exclaimed as if the whole world and no one at all were listening, “Who diapers their teenager like a baby?”
At that, both girls had blurted out loud, “What?!” with giggles and glee. Everything seemed to match up with what they had gleaned over the course of the year: the gossip they had heard through kindergarten, Ed’s rumor from the classroom window during detention, the inkling of a revelation at Alex’s party…it all was fitting together. They didn’t even have to speak to each other to know it was true.
Anne Rodgers had eaten up the attention. Only just barely having achieved her GED in life and never having many friends in high school, she routinely felt insecure around people. Essentially every person she had ever worked with was more highly educated than her and made far more money. She often found herself with her foot in her mouth and frequently told stories and gossiped in order to build herself up. But few of the ‘white collar’ crowd she worked among had the time for her shenanigans. To have someone, anyone, offer her the kind of deference the two early-teens gave her on the trip to camp had been delightful. Anne had glowed under the temporary spotlight, spewing information that clearly ought to have been strictly private.
Of course, she had no idea how it might be used.
Once Amber and Nicole had made it to camp, both knew what they were gonna do given the new information and their already agreed-upon plan plan for the summer. Eventually situated in the same cabin as the girl who they strongly believed peed her pants and wore diapers for it, Amber and Nicole had made it their aim to find and expose Jordan’s secret at the most opportune possible.
—————
[June 23, 2002 - 2:25pm]
And so on the third Sunday afternoon Camp White Pines was in session, the two girls finally found themselves alone together in the dragonfly cabin, getting ready for their second class of the day, skin diving. The previous weeks, every time they had been in the space, someone else was there as well; able and ready to witness any funny-business. But by the third sunday, classes had switched and the two bullies carefully reviewed the new assignments that morning in the mess hall. In between the first and second session, they could see that they would be the only two returning to the cabin to change as all the rest of their ‘Dragonfly’ sisters would be out hiking or picking pine needles for tea. They knew their counselor Kari wouldn’t be in the cabin either because she was a lifeguard at the pool all three periods every day.
Their only obstacle would be time. The two girls on the verge of high school (and seemingly too old for the kind of pure evil they were up to) had just eight or nine minutes to change into their suits and head down to the van for the bumpy ride to the river before someone would come looking for them. They both knew this would be their first (and maybe best) chance…and they figured it would be plenty of time to ransack Jordan’s tiny cubby space.
Alone in the cabin, Nicole and Amber turned into that first room at the beginning of the hall and tore it apart. They dug through the cabinet, drawers, and bags, intentionally and roughly hunting for the paraphernalia they knew HAD to be there. Finding nothing at first, Nicole started to question their whole scheme as well as their judgment, “Maybe my aunt had it all wrong Amber; maybe we’ve got it all wrong. I mean, there’s nothing here!”
“No. It’s gotta be here. I know we’re right.”
Just then Amber pulled out a tube of Desitin from Jordan’s suitcase. “See! Lookie here. Diaper rash cream.”
After a few more minutes rifling around in the room, they made the determination that the diapers must be kept in the counselor’s locker for privacy sake. In short order, the two found themselves digging around in the counselor’s quarters which were never locked. The eight purple diapers weren’t hard to find in the wood cabinet behind the door.
Giggling with glee and malice, the two went to work — knowing that all the rest of the girls would be back in the cabin once again in about ninety minutes, just before the final class of the day in order to change for swimming. The two of them wouldn’t need to change their clothes per se as they would be just getting back from skin diving in the river, but of course they would ‘need’ to put their masks and snorkels away (and thus witness the festivities).
“We’ve got her Amber!” Nicole said greedily. “We’ve GOT HER!” she repeated again, palms sweaty, cheeks in pain from smiling.
“Yep. That little bitch is gonna pay now.” Amber replied. “Say goodbye to your little popularity club miss panty pisser…”
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 24, 2014 at 4:19 AM
Content: Chapter 47 - [Sunday, June 23, 2002 - 8:07am]
The bad news about camp classes had been minor for Jordan compared to what happened during breakfast that same fateful Sunday morning.
Each individual Girl’s and Boy’s cabin always had to sit together during meals with their assigned counselor. Other than the weekly ‘dance and banquet’ on Friday nights, this rule was unassailable. However, campers routinely routed their way around the policy by situating their tables adjacent to cabins made up of the opposite sex. Inevitably, campers who were ‘couples’ sat close to each other even though they were at separate tables — able to lean back, talk with one another, or even turn their chairs and face each other for jokes and conversation. It wasn’t the same as getting to at the same table, but it worked for the conservative Christian kids who didn’t really know any different.
This arrangement had been the norm for the ‘Dragonflies’ and Joey’s cabin, accommodating Jordan and her special friend. But on the third Sunday morning of the summer, the tall teen immediately noticed that although Joey’s cabin’s ‘normal’ table was open right next to where her girls had already sat down for breakfast, when the boys entered the mess hall, they passed right by and sat in the far corner. To her dismay, Joey didn’t even make eye contact. Cold as ice, he hugged the far wall all the way around to their seemingly pre-chosen table. His whole cabin didn’t hardly look their way, except to let on to the fact that the choice had been intentional.
Immediately Jordan turned to Alex who appeared as mystified as she felt. Next her eyes flashed over to meet those of Riley, Georgia, and then Cindy. It was Georgia’s who hinted at some hidden awareness of the explanation to the boys’ odd behavior. She stared right back at Jordan with a degree of sympathy on her face. Her brown eyes then looked down. Jordan could see her dark curly hair move as she shook her head gently back and forth.
No. Jordan instinctively thought. You’ve gotta be kidding me. He’s not breaking up with me at camp…right in the middle of summer…is he?…He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!…Would he?
“I’m sorry Jordie.” Georgia mouthed from across the table almost silently. Every set of eyes around it was set gazing at her — so the feigned effort to establish a private conversation between the two of them was a pipe dream. “Derek told me Joey just doesn’t…I mean…” She looked around nervously, finally noticing the fact that what she was saying probably wasn’t best for everyone to hear.
Jordan’s eyes began to water.
The gravity of the dramatic moment began to dawn on everyone, Kari included, who came to sit down with her Dragonflies just as Georgia had begun her monologue.
“…It’s just…” Georgia continued, “He says he still wants to be friends and stuff Jordan….”
That was all she got out before the only author at the table knew how her story with Joey was going to end. She fell immediately into a full-blown puddle of tears and the other Dragonflies sitting around her quickly and impulsively gathered closer to rub her back and offer support.
The Junior High drama was immediately thick. Counselor Kari, to her credit, empathized fully with the grieving octet of girls complete with back rubs, hugs, and impassioned agreements about justice. Even Amber and Nicole had grace enough to act as if they felt bad for Jordan in her pain. Any breakup for a thirteen year old is difficult — Jordan felt as though her world was crashing in around her in a whole new way.
Why?…she thought to herself, half out loud, half in her mind, Why would he do this to me? Why wouldn’t he just come and talk with me? Why would he tell it to me through Georgia? How could he act like we don’t even know each other now?
A lump formed in the upper part of her chest and its weight simply hung. Jordan was drowsy with sadness. But the day’s misery was only just beginning.
—————
[June 23, 2002 - 3:27pm]
That afternoon, long after the highest emotions had stabilized and after what seemed like would be cataclysmic had calmed to a whimper, Alex led the way as Riley and Georgia followed her back to the Dragonfly cabin from the administrative building where the indoor classes were held. Jordan and Cindy were following not far behind, talking about Joey and how his lame excuse that Jordan wanted ‘to be together too much’ was absolutely insane. The two were headed across the field as they exited the woods after their previous class out in nature. Not one of the girls had any idea what Amber and Nicole had done while they were out.
The two masterminds watched from a short distance away, trailing Jordan and her friend, careful to remain behind. More or less in plain sight (but anonymous because of the crowds of kids), the two had a difficult time keeping coy smiles off their faces. To every-day passers by, they might’ve appeared to be normal, happy-go-lucky campers in swimsuits with snorkel gear over their shoulders. The truth was that they thought they had ruined a young social competitor’s life and they felt victorious.
Alex, Riley and Georgia were the first to arrive at the steps of the cabin followed by the eighth girl in their clan who was not from Seattle. Jordan and Cindy walked up the steps just as the first four disappeared into the doorway. Kari was still at the pool lifeguarding as she had been in between the previous two periods.
Once the six were inside, Amber and Nicole knew what they would find.
Through the main doorway lying in the landing area on the floor, was a large plastic purple diaper. It had been unfolded from its normal trifold from the package, flattened out, spread wide, and re-folded in half at the crotch to intentionally make it to look more like a diaper. Horrifically, it had the letters brazenly scribbled in black marker across it’s front, “J-O-R-D-A-N-’-S”.
A muffled shriek could be heard 15 yards away fromm the steps as Amber and Nicole continued to walk toward the scene of their crime.
Further inside were strewn out several more purple diapers in like manner with similar identifying markings clearly scrawled across their fronts. One was placed in the hallway, impossible to walk around without noticing. Another was on the counter in the bathroom, draped carefully over part of one sink and the vanity light left on so there could be no doubt what the item was. Two more were on top of one another on the floor just outside Jordan and Alex’s cubby area which had had it’s curtain pulled back and secured open. The remaining three were opened up and spread out on the lower bunk. Each with the same identifying marks written all over them. Jordan’s diaper rash cream was also laying out in plain sight on the bed, some of it even smeared on her sleeping bag.
As the two who had sought to destroy the young author’s life neared the front steps only loud rapid footsteps and hushed voices could be heard outside. Then, all of a sudden, Jordan, the object of their torment, burst through the front door. Her face was dark red, splotchy, wet with tears, and had makeup running. She clutched a trash bag which clearly contained the diapers and she rushed past them, hardly paying them notice. As she got to the bottom, her shoulder and Nicole’s bashed sending Nicole crashing into the side rail. The instigator didn’t have the gall to protest the slight as she watched with happiness (and yet a tiny bit of guilt) as Jordan rushed off toward the administrative building, obviously in major distress.
All the other Dragonfly girls were outside on the porch in a heartbeat and their eyes immediately went to Amber and Nicole, the only two who hadn’t witnessed precisely what had taken place inside.
“YOU!!!” Alex screamed as she made a move toward Amber, who herself was every bit the athlete Alex was.
Amber faked surprise, doing all she could to keep the smile in her heart off her face. “What the hell are you doing!?” Amber barked back as Alex lunged for her bounding down the stairs, hand outstretched to grab hold of something, anything.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO HER!!” Alex demanded not slowing her pursuit.
Amber backpedaled, now genuinely afraid of Alex’s furor. “Alex! Calm down! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do what?” Amber’s lies were easy to see through but she at least had to try to put on a show in front of the others.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID! YOU TOO YOU LITTLE HARLOT!!” Alex turned toward Nicole and spat the insult, slowing her pursuit. “Fucking assholes! You’ve been nothing but complete pricks all year to her. You jealous sons-of-bitches…” Disdain was on her face, “What? You can’t handle a little competition in your little ‘cool contest’? You can’t handle taking second fiddle once in a while? You can’t handle that she’s actually got talent and you’ve just got intimidation?”
Alex’s righteous indignation was hit the roof — any romantic feelings she might’ve actually wanted to explore with her long time friend were much beside the point. A line had been crossed and she wasn’t gonna stand by and just allow it.
“I’m not jealous of nuthin’!” Nicole finally piped up and took the bait to Amber’s chagrin. “And you’re the Harlot you little dyke twat! You’re just all in a huff because…you’re girlfriend here’s…” She caught herself before saying something that would incriminate them to their obvious involvement in what had taken place.
The other girls looked at Alex and blushed, immediately believing the innuendo was true and folding under the pressure of the bully’s wiles.
“No - go ahead and finish Nicole. Tell us why Jordan’s so upset. You already know. You did it. Tell us!!”
The two buckled down again — and they did so just as the girl’s director jogged over to break up the fight.
Alex’s heart beat rapidly and she was sweating profusely. Her skin was red and she felt completely enraged at the injustice that had taken place. Within seconds, the girls’ director had shuffled each of them off to their next classes except Alex, who was retained for further questioning and punnishment. This further raised her hackles of injustice.
“What’s going on here Alex? Why are you screaming and cussing like this? It’s not ok at Camp. I think you know that right?” The director asked.
“Listen Miss — um — I can’t remember your name.”
“Miss Jones.”
“Listen Miss Jones. I need to find Jordan…right now. She ran off…”
“Not until you tell me more about what happened.”
Over the course of the next 10 minutes, Alex carefully but rapidly explained the scene that she and her fellow Dragonflies had found as they entered the cabin just a few minutes prior. She explained the past rivalry and bullying at school and how she knew that Amber and Nicole had been the ones to do it. Ms. Jones was respectful but non-committal when it came to her story.
“I’ll talk to them Alex but I’m not sure there’s much we can do in terms of punishment. How do we know for sure if they even did it? And besides, lots of kids have that problem at night anyways. You’d be surprised how many of our campers this summer deal with it the same way. It’s quite common. I’ll ask your counselor Kari to have a talk with the cabin about it tonight. Now — you need to go to your next class.”
As if that would settle everything, she turned to leave.
What the hell!? Kari talking with our whole cabin about Jordan’s diapers! Oh yeah!! That’ll be really great. I’m sure Jordie will LOVE that. Alex was furious, but had given up on trying to get a reaction out of the director.
“Wait! I need to find Jordan and make sure she’s ok — she left in an absolute panic and I don’t even know where she went.”
After an almost undetectable eye roll, the girls counselor gave Alex the go-ahead to find her friend.
—————
Jordan held her face in her hands and she was weeping violently still — even 20 minutes after leaving the cabin. Long croaks emanated from her voice box and snot and tears ran down her wrists. Her whole body shook in terrible gasps, unaware of onlookers.
She sat on the carpeted floor of a small multi-purpose room in the administrative building. The bag of unfolded and grafittied diapers were next to her, fairly obvious to any curious bystanders. Alex entered unnoticed and quietly walked over to her friend and sat next to her, draping her arms around her. The human touch served to produce an entirely new (and heartbreaking) level of sadness, embarrassment, and self-pity; heard only through different sustained notes and staccatos of sobs.
“I’m so sorry Jordie. I’m so, so, so, sorry.” Alex said, not knowing what else to say. She leaned in close and laid her head on her friends shoulder in support. “I wish there was something I could do.”
Jordan continued to cry, unabated.
For a long time they sat together. Sweaty in tears and snot, but with no words shared.
Finally, Jordan spoke up in sorrowful mumbles. “What am I gonna do Alex?” She cried some more before she was able to gasp out, “Everyone’s gonna know I…I…” she couldn’t bring herself to simply say the words that were true descriptors of her medical condition.
Alex didn’t know how to respond. She believed her friend was right — and she knew that the rumor mill would be inevitable with Amber and Nicole at the helm (notwithstanding their denials). “Jordan it’s gonna be ok girl. It’s gonna be ok…”, she lied.
“You can’t just say that Alex!!” Jordan felt her anger rise up a bit, “It’s not gonna be ok. NOTHING’s GONNA BE OK! OK?” She looked at her friend in the eye.
“MOM AND DAD ARE NEVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER. MINDI AND JEN ARE JEALOUS OF ME AND HATE ME. I’M NEVER GONNA BE ABLE TO DEPEND ON MY DAD. NO BOY IS EVER GONNA WANT ME LIKE THIS! I’M GONNA NEED THESE THINGS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.” She barked the words in defiance and defeat and kicked the bag of diapers across the carpeted floor. “It’s NOT gonna be ok. Nothing’s gonna be ok!”
She fell back into crying again and Alex felt at a loss.
Just then, the nurse quietly popped her head in the doorway and walked across the room. She sat down next to the duo and ended up ‘taking over’ support for Alex who had really completely spent her energy and was at her wits end. Jordan was at hers as well.
—————
The six foot tall story-writer made her way sheepishly toward the Dragonfly table where the scorned bullies awaited, looking pleasant and peaceful. As far as the camp staff was concerned, there was no proof that Amber and Nicole had done the deed and they of course vehemently denied doing it. In the absence of any witnesses, there wasn’t much that could be done other than pick up the pieces and try to mitigate damage. Kari had done her best, but all of the girls except Alex, couldn’t help but snicker a little bit at the sight of the big purple diapers strewn about the cabin.
In the meantime before dinner, the two girls hadn’t wasted a moment in spreading their stored up rumors about Jordan: everything they had heard about her UTI and diaper rash from the ER visit, the thing Ed had overheard, the incident at Alex’s birthday party (with a few added embellishments now that they had proof), as well as the story from kindergarten about Jordan’s mom diapering her. By the time it food was on the tables, Jordan’s embarrassing secret was well on its way to being spread far and wide.
In fact, as she sat down at the Dragonfly dinner table, Riley herself couldn’t help but ask, “So let me get this straight. You got like a bladder infection from wearing those things? And you went to the hospital wearing one? And you get diaper rash too…like a baby? And your mom changes your diapers?” She raised the edge of her mouth in a mocking smile. “Geez Jordan.”
Jordan’s face immediately burned dark red again, which verified the veracity of the rumors all the more. Kari barked across the table “RILEY! That was rude! Knock it off!” She was already sick of the nonsense and it had just begun.
“Where did you hear that shit?” Alex chimed in demanding an answer, yelling across the table in the din of activity in the mess hall.
“ALEX! WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Kari honed in on the curse word, ignoring the rumor mill and its source.
“Sorry.” Alex replied meekly to her counselor. “Where did you hear that Riley?” She said then with more intensity, glaring back at her, insisting on hearing an answer.
Riley looked down, embarrassed now for being chided and then realizing that she had indeed hurt Jordan’s feelings. She glanced over toward the boy’s at Joey’s table. “I heard it from them.” She said honestly, looking at Amber and Nicole who themselves looked like the cats who ate the canary.
“Oh God. You fuckers!” Alex said looking right at Amber with daggers in her eyes.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! GO SIT WITH AT THE STAFF TABLE IF THAT’S HOW YOU’RE GONNA TALK ALEX!” Kari exclaimed. She might’ve been cool, but she was old-school when it came to cussing.
Alex got up and left.
Jordan felt even more alone. The throng of voices melting into a blur of sound.
—————
Over the subsequent couple days, the rumors increased and morphed. Jordan’s bedwetting, diaper usage, and ER visit became well known across the camp as well as her numerous infections and diaper rash problem. Other rumors spread — that she was pushed in a stroller at home and that her mom carried a diaper bag. Kids began to drop little jokes in conversations within her hearing and make mocking and suggestive motions outside the observations of camp staff. On Tuesday afternoon Jordan came into her room to find a small bottle of baby powder carefully laid out on her pillow with a note attached to it that said: for “Leaky”.
It was Wednesday night before the girl who had written a novel couldn’t take it anymore.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 26, 2014 at 7:51 AM
Content: Chapter 48 - [Wednesday, June 26, 2002]
“I’m really sorry Mrs. Reynolds but I just can’t give you any more details.”
“This is just really stressful you know? Just waiting and waiting…”
“I don’t doubt it is Mrs. Reynolds; I apologize if I’m adding to it. But I can’t share with you anything about what —“
“I’m not a criminal! Alright?!” Sally burst out in anger, unable to keep composed any longer. The social worker had been in the house all evening, from the moment Sally had returned from work at around 6pm and had planned to stay until close to 8pm.
“I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m a very VERY good mother and there’s absolutely no substance to the allegation that I abused my daughter.”
“Listen Mrs. Reynolds,” Emma Smart stood and turned to leave the living room in the little house on 22nd Avenue, “no one is saying you are a criminal. And obviously nothing egregious seems to be taking place given how well adjusted your daughter is — and given the fact that a judgment wasn’t made against you in the first hearing.” She looked at the middle aged woman with eyebrows raised and a hand on her hip as if she was the parent in the situation. Emma appeared authoritative and well-informed but the truth was that she was terrified of Sally and couldn’t wait to get off the case.
“Let me offer you some advice off the record,” she continued speaking with more confidence than she felt and going out on a limb, “if you keep having outbursts like this (and especially in the courtroom) that in itself might sway the judge against you in terms of custody. You need to take a breather and relax Sally.”
At that, Sally’s mouth dropped slightly open in stunned silence and the social worker made her way out the door, closing it behind her. The moment it latched, the cordless phone in Sally’s hand began ringing.
The mother of three looked down and saw the amber screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Hmm, she thought, I wonder if this could be Jordie? Kinda weird of her to call in the middle of the week. I thought they limited calls to weekends only?…I hope nothing’s wrong.
“Hello?” she answered.
The voice on the other end sounded haggard and pained; it had been through a lot.
“Jordan? Is that you?” She screeched, sounding less empathetic than she really intended.
The voice shifted to somewhat frantic storytelling as Mindi and Jen came running, hoping to talk with their sister whom they somehow surprisingly had come to miss after just a few weeks of absence.
“Jordan you’ve got to slow down honey, I can’t understand you when you’re yelling like this…”
A faint “MOOOOM!!!” could be heard audibly from the handheld device even on the other side of the living room as Jordan boomed with frustration at her Mom’s apparent lack of understanding. But once again, the young teen went through the entire story again — slower this time (but still fast all things being equal). It included Joey’s breakup, the diapers on display in the cabin, and the rumors being spread about her ER visit, among many other details.
Sally finally responded with an indication that she grasped the situation, “I see sweetie. I’m sorry. That must be hard for you.” But it was without deep emotional investment.
Jordan’s heart was folded in many pieces, waiting, longing, hoping for her Mom’s tender sympathetic words and commiseration. With all her heart, she willed Sally to return to the old ways of gentle care.
It didn’t come.
Sally certainly saw the behaviors of those responsible for her daughter’s pain as wrong, but she attempted to dialogue with Jordan about it logically, dicing through her theories with coldness. Sally’s opinion of the supposed instigators of the ‘crime’ and ‘rumor mill’ was that it was Jordan who had more guilt to bear for the whole scenario anyways because she created the opportunity in the first place by choosing to have diapers at camp.
“Listen honey,” she said, “you don’t know for sure who exactly did that. I know you’re convinced. But it could’ve been anyone. Really. And rumors start from all kinds of places and you have no idea what anyone is actually saying. You’re probably making a mountain out of a molehill….besides, if you weren’t insisting on still wearing those things like a little baby, you wouldn’t be in this situation would you?”
By that time in the phone conversation, Jordan’s chin had given way to uncontrollable quivering and her eyes flowed with tears that fell like rain. In silence she gently bit her fist and shook her head in mystification at how distant her mother had become.
How can this kind of stuff still be happening to me? How is this still my life? Everyone hates me now and mom doesn’t care…?
“Mom I wanna come home.” She finally blurted out in the midst of a monologue lecture.
“What?”
Jordan stayed silent.
“What did you say?” Sally asked, knowing what had been said but wanting her daughter to stand in the shoes if those were the ones she wanted.
“I wanna…” she choked up “…I wanna…come home…” it was impossible to hide the crying now.
Sally felt for her daughter but believed that this was just a normal blip on the Jr. High radar. She had her own stress to worry about anyways.
“Jordan, do you have any idea how much that summer camp costs?! You’re overreac—“ she began as the teen interrupted.
“No Mom! You’re just not giving any reaction! Just because it isn’t a big deal to you, doesn’t mean it isn’t a big deal to me. Just because you don’t understand why it happens or why I wear them doesn’t mean I’m crazy or disgusting…”
The phone clicked off. Sally was unsure if Jordan had accidentally hung up on her or if it was intentional. She felt badly — but also firm as ever in her reactions. The girl is thirteen and she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Live a little life; go around the block a few times; and then she’ll know what it’s like to go through some pain.
The mother of three held the phone in her hand. Gazing out the window.
“Mom can we talk with her?” Mindi asked.
Only then was Sally jolted into the reality that her girls had been standing at her feet for the whole conversation — probably having heard everything.
“Sorry Mindi, your sister isn’t feeling well. She had to hang up.” Sally said matter-of-factly. “Let’s go get you girls ready for bed.”
Knowing she hadn’t given her daughter the kind of emotional support she really needed, Sally thought, I sure hope she doesn’t call Ted.
————————————
Of course it was the very next thing Jordan had done after she slammed the black phone handle down on the metal receiver in the glass and aluminum phone booth. In fact, Jordan hit it so hard that the speaker end showed a hairline crack on its hardened plastic. It was actually kind of an odd reaction for the girl who typically regressed back into sadness, self-pity, and loneliness (not anger) when faced with adversity. But after having processed some of her situation through the tense conversation with her Mom, her confidence had grown a bit.
Ted’s reaction had been far different from Sally’s. Rather than sympathetic listening, Ted had immediately gone into laser-focused investigative-journalist-mode before succumbing to pure, white-hot rage. Somehow, this had surprised Jordan who didn’t really know what to expect from her father. They had been growing slowly closer over the past month and a half and Jordan’s trust had been increasing in him in small steps, but still, she somehow doubted his true interest in looking out for her. But his reaction particularly to hearing about the rumors regarding her ER visit had demonstrated his ongoing emotional investment in her life. He had hit the roof.
“WHAT!?” He exclaimed, “Who the fuck at the hospital sharing your PRIVATE medical information?! I’m not gonna put up with this shit one more minute! This is fucking bullshit Jordan!”
It had been weird for the thirteen year old to hear her father cuss but it had also been somehow refreshing — almost flattering. She felt oddly embarrassed at how…protective…he seemed to be acting over her and her situation. It was a weird sensation; and she liked it. Jordan did everything she could not drop back into more tears as the warmth of feeling seen flooded her body. But her eyes betrayed her and her vision blurred with warm salty streaks as she sat on the floor in the dirty outdoor booth under the florescent glow.
“Daddy, I dunno who told them but it was Amber and Nicole that spread it at camp…the same girls who’ve been so mean all year…they hate me because I won that competition…and then Joey started liking…”
The thought of Joey and the way he had so suddenly ditched her without provocation or conversation brought a whole new swell of tears and jerking heaves on her body.
“Jordan sweetie we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. I’m sooo sorry honey. This isn’t ok. Ok?” He said, genuine concern in his voice.
“Everything was just… ‘SNIFF’…going so well up here…you know?” she said in a pitiful voice.
“I know honey. I know. This crap isn’t supposed to happen… I’m really sorry sweetie.”
She continued to whimper and cry as he listened on the other end. Unable to do anything.
“I haven’t talked with you Mom or anything, but do you want me to come get you in the morning?” he asked after a pause.
She cried even harder at the suggestion; it made her heart melt.
“Sorry honey. I’m not saying you have to come home. I was just offe—“ Ted defended his statement as Jordan interrupted.
“Daddy please come!” Through sobs and snot and sniffs, she blurted out the request. “Please come now…I can’t be here anymore…please Daddy…please!” The sound of her voice was defeated and pathetic. It was if she was throwing her weight on him emotionally.
“Alright Jordie. I’ll come. I promise. Tomorrow morning. Alright? I’ll be there. It’s gonna be ok honey. Just hang in there…”
Through additional tears and cries, she thanked him over and over again; telling him that her Mom had said she had to stay up at camp because of the cost. He listened, in shock at her condition and still enraged at its cause. He tried to put her nervousness at rest and said the cost wasn’t an issue. Eventually she told him she had to go to bed and quietly clicked off the line.
I’ve gotta find out what bastard told those girls about Jordan. He’s gonna pay! He vowed to himself as he hung up the phone.
—————————————
It was dark and Jordan picked her way back through the pine needle carpeted grounds of camp. She crossed the road of one of the rings and made her way down the path to the Dragonfly cabin. Jordan wasn’t looking forward to facing the yet girls again. They had been increasingly weird around her ever since ‘the revelation’. But she found strength in the knowledge that she would be leaving in the morning.
The previous Sunday afternoon after Amber and Nicole had vandalized her diapers and spread them across the cabin, Kari and the girls’ director had had a talk with the whole group about respecting people with medical issues. Not knowing who had done the deed for sure, they had chided the whole cabin for going along with the kind of cruelty that had taken place and told them that making fun of people’s medical needs is completely out of bounds. Each of the girls had appeared completely penitent (including Amber and Nicole) and they all hugged (or tried to hug) Jordan after it was all over. Little did the counselors know that the rumors were already being spread far and wide.
Kari had had her own private talk with Jordan that evening as well. She had apologized for what had taken place but refused to entertain Jordan’s theory regarding the responsible parties. “Jordan I’m not gonna listen to accusations here. You and I both know that the cabins aren’t locked and neither are the medical cabinets in our quarters. Kids sneak in all the time to try to steal stuff. That’s why we make everyone use the lock boxes for valuables. Obviously someone snuck in for something valuable and they decided to play a little prank.”
“Well how did the know they were mine then?!” Jordan had yelled back defensively.
Kari didn’t have a good answer for that but she responded. “Well how would Amber and Nicole know they were yours if they were the ones that did it? I thought you said that Alex was the only one that knew about your problem anyways? I can’t imagine she’d do such a thing…which makes me think that maybe she told someone about it or maybe someone saw or heard something since you’ve been at camp. Anything could explain it Jordan.”
Jordan’s mind flashed to Alex’s party and the look she had gotten from Amber during the truth or dare game. There’s no way Alex would do that to me…and especially after what Joey did today. It was Amber and Nicole. I know it. “I just know it was them. Ok? I know.”
“Well sorry. We can’t do much in the way of punishment off of your intuition Jordan. You just need to let it go. No one’s gonna bother you about it…and if they do. You need to tell me. Ok?”
Jordan had nodded and thought, yeah sure. I’ll come crying right to you as soon as anyone looks at my crossways. Maybe you can change my diaper and give me a pacifier too…That’ll help!
“I’ll get the locker all resupplied tonight alright? Sorry about this.” She said, trying to give Jordan a hug — which she had resisted.
Once Jordan made it back to her cabin after her phone calls on Wednesday night, everyone was bustling around getting ready for bed and as she walked in the front door, it was as though she hadn’t even entered the room. No one said hello. No one smiled. They just passed by her, talking, laughing, and carrying on.
Geez. I feel like Frankie George here. This is crazy. The thought to herself.
She made her way to she and Alex’s cubby area; still the first one on the left. Alex was nowhere to be found. Happily, the despicable prank bottle of baby powder had disappeared as well.
Almost like a zombie, the tallest girl in camp slowly sauntered down the long hallway, passing each sleeping space. Some contained girls preparing for bed or reading, others were empty — their occupants apparently in the showers or bathroom. From what Jordan was able to tell, not a single girl paid her any attention. As she neared the end of the hall, Jordan reached out and pushed the crash bar on the ajar metal exit door and made her way out onto the concrete landing.
There she found Alex reading a book.
“Hi.” Jordan said quietly, not entirely expecting the discovery.
“Hi.” Said Alex looking up.
An awkward silence hung in the cool summer air.
“I threw that stuff away. Sorry. I dunno who put it there.” Alex said, referring to the baby powder and pointing back toward the cabin.
“Oh…thanks…” she replied feeling awkward and yet grateful at the same time.
Another bout of silence ensued as Jordan continued to stand slightly behind Alex on the steps, leaning up against the metal railing.
“So are you gonna be ok?…like with all this?…” Alex finally again asked empathetically, a somewhat unusual posture for the girl who was always so funloving and adventurous. They had been the best of friends their whole lives but Alex rarely took the time to dig deeply into the darker sides of life, preferring rather to focus on positivity and joy.
Jordan didn’t know how to reply…it really wasn’t ok. It was quite terrible. The past several days had been among the worst of her entire year (which had been both the best and worst of her whole life). “I dunno Alex…I dunno…” she said, sitting down on the top step next to her friend.
“I think you’re really brave Jordan. Probably the bravest person I’ve ever known.”
Jordan couldn’t help but choke up a little, “Re…really?”
“Yeah girl. To go through what you did this year and still accomplish all you did…and at the same time deal with a secret like that? Shoot. That takes bravery lady… And then you were willing to come to camp even though you still had your…problem…I mean, maybe you didn’t know it was as big of risk as it was but…crap…I probably would’ve stayed home. Most girls’ would’ve.” Alex sounded a lot like her mother and she herself felt like her Mom as she talked.
“Yeah?…Then why do I care so much if kids are talking about me? If I’m so brave, why do I care so much if they make fun of me behind my back? Why do I care if I’m the only one?”
“Jordan. None of those things makes you a coward. It just makes you human…. And besides, there’s no way you’re the only one with this issue.” The statement immediately made Jordan think of the website she had been on before going up to camp and the phenomenon of ‘liking’ diapers rather than ‘needing’ them for bedwetting.
She nodded slowly, looking down the stairs into the dark.
“Give yourself a break. This has been like the worst day of your life practically… And besides, the counselors aren’t gonna let everyone just torment you up here; it’s gonna blow over…”
“ALEX!!” Jordan couldn’t help but react to the statement that seemed so outlandishly false. It didn’t matter how nice or supportive Alex was being, Jordan simply wasn’t able to conceive of the possibility in that moment. She snapped.
“NO ONE IS GONNA FORGET!! And even if they somehow magically ignored it this summer — what do you think will happen NEXT YEAR AT SCHOOL?! No one is just gonna act like I’m not the bed-peeing, diaper wearing, baby!” Her voice had become unintentionally loud, easily able to be overheard by those just inside the backdoor of the cabin.
Alex glanced back toward the door, insinuating that the other girls might be listening and then said in a slightly lower but intense voice, “Jordan get ahold of yourself! People might be listening! Besides, it’s really not THAT big of deal!…Jr. High won’t last forever. Maybe we’ll look back on this summer and laugh—”
“WHAT?! LAUGH!? Not that big of deal?” The taller girl was yelling now, standing up to look down on her friend still sitting diminutively with her book. “Maybe it’s not that big of deal to YOU!” She barked.
“That’s not what I mea—“
Jordan interrupted before her friend could finish, “OF COURSE you’d say it’s not that BIG of deal.” She rolled her eyes in a wide arc, “Ever since you found out my…my…issue…you’ve done everything you could to try to sneak a peak of me…”
Alex looked up in disgust and shock, a snort of contempt leaving her nose and lips, her mouth slightly ajar. She began to stand.
“Why’re you all of a sudden so squeamish? You’re the one who wants to see girls wearing diapers!!” Jordan didn’t fully understand that she was really unconsciously transferring her own shame to her friend, but she knew if felt good in a decadent and evil sort of way. Her voice was louder yet and the shock on Alex’s face was real — yet not exactly as Jordan would’ve expected. “Do you wanna wear them too or something? Maybe you were the one to do all this to me! Maybe you were trying to take one for yourself! Maybe you—“
Alex, standing tall pushed her friend and made for the door. “WHAT THE FUCK JORDAN!?! I don’t want to wear one of your diapers! What the hell kind of sick freak do you think I am? Is that what you like to do?! Do you LIKE to wear diapers? Is that who you think I am?…I just wanted to make you feel better about yourself…I was just trying to make you feel more comfortable…”
Embarrassed now of everything that had happened between them at camp, Alex flushed into a cold sweat. She hand’t known what to do with her developing sexuality that felt so divergent from the boy-crazy nature of her girlfriends. Of course she realized it was weird to ‘like’ girls and the very thought scared her but she hadn’t really imagined that her best friend Jordan had been picking up on her unintended semi-platonic insinuations. To realize that those advances had been seen and misinterpreted was beyond mortifying.
She pushed past Jordan into the cabin where Amber and Nicole sat on Cindy and Riley’s bunks near the door, acting as though they were just messing around with makeovers. They looked startled and clearly guilty.
“Oh get off it you pieces of shit! Fucking bitches. Haven’t you caused enough havoc here?!” Alex screamed at them over her shoulder as she stormed through the cabin toward her bed in tears.
————
Jordan remained outside on the concrete steps for a long time that night. She didn’t know what to make of what had transpired. Clearly the kind of confrontation she had made wasn’t the best for getting accurate information, but she couldn’t help but think that her judgment about Alex had to have been wrong.
She genuinely seemed like 100% surprised and totally taken off guard by the idea of wearing diapers because it feels good — or wearing them at all. I mean, it wasn’t like a defensive denial…it was like…shock and disgust. Jordan’s mind turned as she sat in the darkness, assuming the counselor Kari would arrive for some kind of debriefing any second. Wouldn’t she have looked embarrassed or ashamed or guilty or something if she had the same thing as me? I’m not sure I’d be able to hide it if she did that to me…like Amber at the party…I was like, totally wigged out by and I’m sure she saw right through me.
She thought about the car ride and Alex’s weird behavior in the cabin and how she had seemed so interested in seeing Jordan in diapers on those first nights. Over and over again Alex had brought up ‘secrets’ but never really said any of her own; it had been like she was waiting for Jordan to say something but also wanting to say something herself.
What’s going on with her? What’s she hiding if it isn’t what I have? Even though the truth of her friends homosexuality was staring her right in the face, it’s proximity (along with its taboo) kept Jordan from seeing it.
In a short time, Kari made her way out and the two had a long talk. Jordan told her she was going home the next morning and Kari made a long and concerted effort to try to convince her to stay. Jordan insisted that it was what she wanted to do…that she needed to get away from all the meanness and gossip…that it was too hard. Kari had tried to make guarantees and promises about kids’ behavior and the like but Jordan knew they were empty. In the end, they had hugged — but the die was cast.
Before heading to bed, Kari encouraged Jordan to apologize to Alex and to try to make up. She agreed but Alex had been absolutely stone-wall silent when Jordan went in to get ready for bed. It was a total blackout that final night of camp. Jordan wouldn’t speak again with Alex for months.
- - - Updated - - -
Just a little left to go friends -- the last couple chapters will all come in a flourish I think. I'm finishing the final one right now.
Gotta get it punched out so I can get onto other things
I can't handle it just hanging out there not quite completed. I want it finished so I can work on other stuff...
Cheers.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 27, 2014 at 6:27 AM
Content: Chapter 49 - [Thursday, June 27, 2002]
Everything up until Jordan got into her Dad’s rental car had been very tense. Packing her bags, hugging her friends and expressing mutual sorrow over her departure (that is, other than Alex and her ‘friends’ Amber and Nicole), and picking up the remainder of her supplies, each had had their own unique levels of drama. In particular, the realization that she only had 20 diapers left in her entire supply after having so many destroyed brought a swell of panic over Jordan’s adult sized body.
But once she had hugged her dad and crawled inside the new-smelling rental vehicle, many of those cares passed away and she simply collapsed back into emotional exhaustion.
———
It wasn’t until they neared Olympia that Jordan finally awakened. It was nearly 1 in the afternoon.
“Jordan? Jordan?” she could hear a voice calling her name through the fog of delirium. “Jordan, wake up.”
Her eyes cracked open and she realized they were stopped at a rest area just outside the city. “Mmmmm. Uhhhh.” She said as she rubbed her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. “Where are we? How long have I been sale—“
It was then that she realized her nighttime habit had made its way into her Dad’s car. Ted had noticed as well (and was part of the reason for his stop).
Jordan put her face in her hands and started to cry.
“Oh….honey…” Ted reached over and patted his daughter’s shoulder, somehow knowing that this was just the culmination of a long series of horrible events. “I’m so so so sorry dear…I’m so so sorry…It’s gonna be ok sweetie…it’s gonna be ok…” He continued to rub her upper back and shoulder as she wept quietly. “Daddy loves you sweetie. Daddy loves. It’s gonna be ok…”
After a while, she calmed. And looked over at him with a pathetic face as if to say, what do I do now?
He couldn’t help but crack a slight smile—“I guess it’s a good thing it’s just a rental huh?” Her face nudged into a smile to match and both were laughing within seconds.
“So how ‘bout you go get cleaned up and changed in there and then we can go find something to eat?” he said motioning to the rest area bathroom.
She couldn’t help but think about the ‘ick’ factor of such a gross place to do a clothing swap but she also felt pretty gross and shameful in her present state. The teenage girl nodded and got at it.
In short order they were back on the road again and headed to a burger joint Ted knew about downtown.
“So…um…Jordan?” he said nervously.
“Yeah?”
“Well…I wanna talk a little bit more about what happened at camp if that’s alright. Ok?”
“Um…ok…like, what?” she asked, not fully knowing but having a good hunch as to where he was headed with his line of questioning.
“Well. When I said it’s a big deal that those people were spreading things about you from your medical file in the hospital, I mean. It’s a VERY big deal. Like…it’s against the law…”
Jordan’s eyes widened slightly as she looked over at her Dad who continued to drive.
“And obviously your classmates…who were they?…Amber and Nicole?” He glanced over to witness her nod of affirmation. “Obviously they don’t work at the hospital — so they had to have heard the information from someone who does. And my guess is that they heard it from someone that potentially knows you…and certainly knows one of them…You know what I mean?”
Jordan nodded, thinking back on her experience in the ER.
Ted spoke carefully and deliberately. “And whoever that person was…well…they have a great deal of the responsibility for this… You know? I mean…Amber and Nicole definitely did something quite wrong and ultimately I think they’ll be punished for it; but the person that started it all broke the law. And it’s not ok… I don’t want to make that person’s life miserable or anything…but this whole experience caused you a lot of pain and it’s not fair. We have laws to protect people from pain like this…you know?”
Jordan nodded again. Feeling anxiety rise in her body. Not sure what he was moving toward.
“So—I’m hoping you’re alright with this…but I wanna do a little investigating. I want the person who did this to have to apologize and make it right…ok?”
She felt afraid of what that might mean, but wanted the same outcome as well. She nodded.
“So — I wanna ask you something… Do you remember anyone from the hospital or the doctor’s office like that? Someone that possibly knows you — someone who maybe even knows both you and one of those girls?” He looked over at her briefly as he continued to drive down the highway. “Think hard Jordan.”
Ted himself felt nervous about his questioning. He wasn’t sure if he should butt in before Sally had a chance to opine herself — but his anger at the injustice of the situation drove him to it.
Jordan’s mind raced and very quickly landed on the crazy nurse lady from the front desk. She couldn’t remember her name but she remembered how odd she had behaved — and how Nicole’s picture had been on her desk. “Well actually, yeah…I do remember someone like that…”
Ted’s energy from her reply was palpable. “Really?! Do you remember their name? Who was it? What happened?” He asked a series of about 10 questions rapidly right in a row.
“Dad! Calm down! Let me talk…”
“Ok!”
He pulled into the parking lot of the burger joint and they got out of the car.
She glared at him slightly but also with a teenage playfulness that neither of them had seen in their relationship before. “There was this weird secretary type lady at the front desk at the ER. That day when I went in after I had the infection thing…the UT…whatever… Anyways she was like, super strange and I remembered seeing her from around school or something for some reason and Mom remembered seeing her from church. At one point, she popped her head in my room when mom was…like…um…well….ch…changing me…and well…it was just super weird…Like the lady was trying to spy on us or something…”
Jordan looked over at her Dad to make sure he was still engaged. Enraptured might’ve best described his demeanor.
“So yeah, its crazy because she wasn’t like a nurse or anything. She was just a secretary or whatever… and then one time Mom called on the machine for them to send someone to help and the lady yelled over it some stuff about my…” Jordan’s voice dropped to a whisper as they stood in line at the counter of the restaurant, “…diapers…it was really embarrassing and awkward…”
“Ok…so…what else…?”
“Well the worst part was that as we were leaving, I saw a picture on the lady’s desk…it was of she and Nicole!!! I’m pretty sure they’re like aunt and niece or something Dad.”
“Oh…hmmm…”
“Yeah, and I was actually really scared about this happening back then — I even talked with Mrs. Miller about it and she said like you said that there were laws and that it’d never happen…so I just didn’t think about it…but, yeah…Dad I’m sure she was the one…she had to be…they knew too much…to many rumors were going around about the ER that only me and mom knew…”
“Yeah it sounds pretty convincing to me too Jordan…pretty convincing…”
The two spend the rest of the afternoon together, eating lunch and then driving on up to Ballard. By the time they arrived on 22nd Avenue, it was late in the afternoon.
——————
Sally had been stressed all day at work thinking about Jordan.
Should I have let her come home? Am I being unreasonable? It really does make sense how this would be a big deal to her but I just don’t want to reinforce that behavior anymore — if I let her think I’m on her side in even something like this, she might think I’ll let her go back to the ‘old way’. But…if I push too hard too fast…I know I’ll push her away…maybe that’s already happening… Ted better not have gone there; it sounded like he wasn’t even listening to me when we talked.
Sally pushed back from her desk and spent time praying, asking for the strength to make it through the rest of the day, through her divorce, through whatever might approach in the coming moments. The final divorce hearing was scheduled for the following week on Tuesday, and she had a great deal of apprehension about that coming event. Emma Smart had visited her house over the summer a couple more times since the one in mid-May and they had been cordial. Sally wanted to do her very best to put on a good face, particularly after having had it pointed out that the ‘courtroom antics’ weren’t going to help her.
In truth, she had no inkling what the report would determine when the time came. Emma had told her that because Jordan was old enough, she’d be invited to come home from camp for the hearing to offer her opinion to the court as to what she’d prefer in terms of custody. As far as Sally was aware, Jordan didn’t know about this little hiccup in her summer plans and figured it better that way. She herself would rather have Jordan not come at all, but Emma Smart said that the Judge would find it odd if she didn’t…especially given the allegations.
It was 4:34 in the afternoon and Sally began packing up her things in her purse to leave the office. Summer weekdays were always slower than the spring and winter and she knew the younger girls would be happy to see her picking them up from daycare as early as possible. At one point in June at church, Sally had run into Jo Miller who had offered to look after the girls during the summer for free as a gesture of friendship. Sally had quickly turned it down opting rather for the industrial style paid daycare downtown. Sally’s narrow reorientation to faith had caused her to become afraid of anyone who had a different perspective on life than she. Convinced that her ‘liberal’ ways were being punished by God with the dissolution of her marriage and all of the problems with CPS, Sally was fully committed to reorienting her life more conservatively. Fear dominated everything in fact.
The phone on her desk rang.
“This is Sally Reynolds, good afternoon.” Her voice was professional and pleasant.
“Hi mom, it’s me.”
“Jordan? I thought they wouldn’t let you use the phone during the day. Is something…um…more…wrong?”
The reply irritated Jordan and reminded her how their conversation the previous night had gone. She waited a moment, thinking about how to reply.
“Jordan?”
“Mom I’m at home.” She finally said, the realization dawning on her that her Mom hadn’t a clue that her Dad had come to pick her up.
“What?! How did…why…I thought I told…Jor—…TED! You put your Dad on the line right now! Is he there? Is he with you?! Lemme talk to him!” She barked, immediately angry.
The two yelled at one another over the phone lines for what seemed like 10 minutes. Jordan hardly could handle it. She roamed around the the house (which seemed a little foreign to her even though nothing had physically changed) as the two made their heated exchange. She poked her head in her own bedroom as if it were a stranger’s room and looked around. Nothing seemed disturbed. The same was true for her sister’s room. By the time she made it back to the living room, it appeared that the call was winding down.
“Fine! When you can talk to me with some respect Sally, you’re welcome to come by and pick Jordan up. But until then, forget it. She’ll stay with me.”
She heard a pause with obviously a lot of yelling on the other end.
“Whatever Sally, I’m her Dad. We’re not divorced yet and we don’t have a custody plan. I have every right to parent her and take care of her as I see fit. Even if you disagree.”
Again another pause with more screams of beratement.
“Oh that’s mature — ad hominem attacks now eh? I’m gonna let you go now Sally, this obviously isn’t getting anywhere. Give me a call when you cool off alright?” He held out the phone and clicked it off as if it were a stinky shoe.
Ted looked over at Jordan. “Sorry sweetie. We didn’t exactly see eye to eye about you coming home last night. But you were just so upset that I couldn’t help just getting in the car driving. I guess you’re staying at my house tonight.”
A look of shock, relief, and what was almost happiness flashed across the young teen’s face. “Oh? Your house? Really?…hmmm…ok…”
“You probably have everything you need I suppose huh? Since you were just at camp… But if you want anything else, grab it now…”
Jordan scrambled into her room and snagged a sweater and a pair of shoes she had missed at camp and also a couple books. Quickly she was headed out the front door with her Dad. It was an odd sensation to be going over to his place happily after all the months of frozen silence and complete rudeness. But the truth was that it felt good to have him looking out for her and to think that he had her best interests in mind.
——————
The young author would end up staying with Ted over the whole weekend. Every time Sally would eventually call over that period, she set in on Ted with a line of insults and demands for Jordan to return home. From her perspective, he had kidnapped her daughter and was holding her against her will. Terrified that Jordan might be ‘turned’ to Ted’s side, Sally called and called and called.
Ted had responded to each of her attacks with curt boundary markers. Essentially, he had communicated with her, ‘until you start speaking with some respect and decorum, I’m not going to interact with you. Jordan’s gonna hang out with me until that time comes.’ Sally would interpret this all the more as ‘hostage keeping’ and in the intermittent moments of communication that took place in each call, she would inform her estranged husband that the lawyer and social worker would be instructed about his actions.
Jordan, completely antithetically (given the overall tenor of her year and relationship with Ted) had been somewhat relieved to be under father’s care. For one of the first times she could remember, he had come to her rescue, protecting her from real threats and pain in life. She couldn’t help but still feel a little hesitant — but at the same time, the sense of care and concern he provided was enchanting.
————
On that first Thursday evening when they got back to his apartment in Capitol Hill, she had dumped her stuff in the living room next to the somewhat weathered used couch that would become her bed for the night. It was only a one bedroom place and so Jordan would be without private accommodations. The instant all her gear was in the unit, Ted hadn’t been able to help himself but to have asked her to come over and take a look at his desktop computer in the bedroom.
“Jordan, I have a surprise for you…come check it out…” he had said, motioning for her to take a look.
She had followed dutifully if not a little confused having no idea what his somewhat giddy demeanor was all about.
“Look at this.” He had said as he clicked quickly several times. A document appeared that she had quickly recognized. It was her story, but in a slightly different format and clearly changed in some ways.
“That’s…my…DAD!!! What did you…” She had initially felt a flurry of anger, thinking her original file had been tampered with or changed — also fear that her hard work had been dumped down the toilet.
Why the hell did I trust him with it? She had begun to chide herself as she took a step back.”
“Jordan wait! Listen. This is just a copy….relax…the original is still here, unchanged. I have a friend who’s a copy editor. Do you ever remember meeting George? From college?” He hadn’t waited for an answer, “Well anyways, he read your book and he absolutely loved it Jordan! I can’t tell you. He thinks it’s amazing.”
Jordan had been stunned. “W…wh….what?”
“Jordan he thinks it could easily be published…like, for real published! So last week he worked through it, made a few changes to the structure, suggested some edits for you to work on, and he wants you to give it back to him as soon as possible so he can pass it to some of his friends in the industry….” Ted had smiled broadly and proudly. “Jordan! I can’t tell you how proud I am. I read it too and I’m in awe of your talent. It’s incredible work.”
Jordan had felt an odd sense of almost embarrassment to receive the kind of love and attention her dad was offering her. She felt unworthy of it…somehow as if he wouldn’t be telling her these things if he really knew the full truth about who she is as a person. The attention and kindness was incredibly wonderful — just strange.
“Th…thanks…D…ad…Daddy…” She had smiled almost shyly, not knowing what else to say.
Ted had stood up from the computer and offered his daughter a big hug and a kiss on the top of the back of her head.
Jordan had spent much of the evening processing the possibilities of what her dad had said. Could I really be published? I mean, I know I wanted this to be really good and I know I wanted to do my best — but I’m not sure I ever expected that it would actually be read far and wide by people… That’s insane! It’s one thing to win a contest, it’s another thing to have people actually PAY to read your stuff. How crazy would that be?! I wonder if that George guy even knows what he’s talking about?
Her heart glowed at the attention and its flower of trust for her Dad opened a bit more.
A little later that night, Ted delicately brought up the (dreaded, for him) subject of bedtime.
“So…um…Jordie?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s about time for bed ok…?” He said, hoping she’d volunteer additional information regarding her nighttime routine. He knew she had done a little bit of her own care here and there, but was unaware of just how much — and certainly wasn’t in on the fact that Sally had backed out of the nighttime habit completely before school was out. Ted didn’t particularly want to be involved in the process with this thirteen year old daughter (if not only because of all the courtroom drama he was witnessing involving his wife), but he also knew he needed to find out what her status was if she was going to be staying at his house.
“Alright.” She said pleasantly, not volunteering any of the information he was looking for. She continued reading the book within which her nose had been buried.
A silence ensue for a moment — unnoticed by the young teenager.
“So…um…are you taking care of your own…um…d…diapers…now a days…or….do you still…um…like…need some help?” He paused for a second, “I mean…I know we talked a little about camp and stuff but I wasn’t sure if you were doing it yourself now or what…and I just…like…was the nurse helping you with that up there? Has your mom still been helping you and stuff?” He felt completely awkward speaking so frankly but also determined to be a responsible father in the matter.
Immediately Jordan’s heart began to beat very fast. Her cheeks flushed with a little embarrassment (at the thought of her Dad helping her as her Mom had), but also with excitement for the apparent opportunity on her doorstep for a reestablishment of a form of what she had so recently lost. At the same moment, her mind went to all the dreams she had had involving her Dad — where she was some kind of small helpless infant being cared for by him. These thoughts and memories brought up intense shame.
I can’t believe what a freak I am!! Oh my gosh. He’s gonna think I’m the craziest person in the world if I tell him I want his help…What should I say though? She thought to herself in the few seconds that hung after his question. It seemed like an eternity passed as she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
I supposed I could lie to him and tell him I NEED his help. But he’ll inevitably find out the truth and that’ll no doubt end badly. But if I tell him that I don’t need it, I most likely won’t ever see this opportunity again! In that case I’ll probably always wish I had and that’ll be like the worst thing to live with regret!
Her mind continued to spin, seconds passing by extremely slowly. If I tell him the entire full truth, he might think that I’m a total weirdo though, he might kick me out or not help me with my book or make me go live back at Mom’s house. He might agree with her or freak out or become like she’s become…some kind of crazy religious nut!
The young teen was frozen in indecision and Ted could see it. She didn’t say a word but rather looked up into his face wide-eyed in fear.
His cheeks flushed “I’m sorry honey, I shouldn’t have asked…I embarrassed you…I just…um…I was just trying to…” Ted tried to recover, reading her incorrectly.
“No dad…” Jordan began, “It’s ok…thanks…I…um…I dunno…I…uh…appreciate it….” She looked at him, embarrassed and yet not knowing fully what to say even still. “Well, lately…um…I’ve been like…um…doing it on my own…and it works…ok….”
A slight sense of relief came over his face which Jordan noticed. I need to just risk it. I need to at least tell him part of the truth…How should I say it? Will he hate me? Should I just drop it?…No. I’ve gotta be bold…I’m gonna regret it if I don’t….
“…Um…but…” she continued, “…um…I…um…well…I kinda….well…Mom always did it better than I could…” she fibbed, unable to blurt out the full truth initially, “…and…even though I can do it…it’s never as good…and also…well…um…I um…kinda…like…having…” she looked up at her dad and raised her eyebrows as if she was asking him for permission, “…help…?”
A degree of shock then crossed Ted’s countenance. “Wait…now…what?”
She couldn’t repeat it. Tears started trickling down her cheeks and her hands rose up to meet her face for what seemed like the tenth time that week. The rough chokes of sobs were almost instant as her shame overtook her. Even though he hadn’t yet indicated judgment or a decision against her suggestion, Jordan’s sensitivity around the subject immediately cut her to the heart and forced her to assume a threat even when it wasn’t necessarily real.
He hates me, she thought, he thinks I’m a freak. Why did I say it? Why did I tell the truth? Why did I risk it? Why did I have to push the envelope? Why couldn’t I have just asked for him to order me new diapers? Why? Jordan. Why do you always have to do this? She shamed herself.
Ah shit. Thought ted. She obviously was terrified of telling me this. I wonder if her mom freaked out after she told her about it too? Crap. I don’t know if I can handle this! So…she…’LIKES’…having someone put those things on her?
Ted mind couldn’t help but think about the specific parts of the body diapers cover and if what he thought she was saying had something to do with sexuality. Oh my God…is it sexual for her somehow? Ah fuck! I can’t do this…I can’t be involved in something like that…with my own daughter!! What the hell is happening here!
He reached out and put his hand on her back and gently patted it with sympathy. She cried even harder in shame and humiliation.
Eventually Ted spoke again.
“Jordan sweetie, I wasn’t trying to judge you or embarrass you by how I reacted….obviously this is something that is kind of scary for you to talk about…maybe it’s kind of a secret too right?…” He spoke extemporaneously, not really knowing what he would say next but hoping that his heart of empathy for his child would lead the way. “…And I want you to know that I think telling me what you did…asking me for what you did is very brave…ok? I respect you and trust you more because you had the courage to do that with me.”
She nodded slightly but continued to cry, softer now and with less intensity.
“All I was trying to do when I responded the way I did was to try to understand better…It sounded almost like you were saying that you…sort of…um…like…having your Mom put you in your…diapers at night…and that maybe you’d kind of like me to help you too…is that right?”
She nodded again after a pause, the crying even softer.
“Ok…that’s what I wanted to make sure I understood…” He waited before he spoke again, “I’m not sure what to tell you on this Jordie…it’s a pretty new and strange idea…I mean. I know it didn’t go well that time when you stayed at my place and Melissa tried to help you. But it seemed like at that time you really needed the help.” He talked very carefully and deliberately as he tried to explain his point of view. “But this feels a little different to me…you know?….I um…It seems like…well…I’m not sure a lot of Dad’s would be comfortable—well, I mean…if you were three or even six years old it wouldn’t be an issue…but…you’re thirteen Jordie for God’s sake! And you want me to like…I mean, you know what parts diapers cover up right?…” He paused not expecting an answer. “I mean, is this something that…um…” He paused again, incredibly uncomfortable but determined to get to the bottom of the issue.
He thought about the allegations against Sally, the ongoing court case, and all the associated possibilities because of what she had been doing with Jordan. He felt terrified. “I just need to be blunt with you dear, I’m sorry but…is this something that…um…like, turns you on…sexually?”
She looked up at him with a little shock in her face, but without judgment or a sense of abandonment. “Daddy NO! No. No. No. It has nothing to do with that…” She shook her head violently as if the idea hadn’t ever crossed her mind. She denied it vehemently, embarrassed at the very suggestion. “…No, no, no….I just…it just…um…I can’t explain really…It just makes me feel…like…” she froze, unable to find the word.
His mind raced, trying to think of what it meant to her if it wasn’t a turn on. “Cared for?”
Another tear, this time completely solitary. Fell down her cheek. Her chin quivered. She looked down and nodded slightly.
Ted couldn’t help but cry himself. He wrapped his arms around his little girl on the couch and hugged her tightly. “Oh Jordan, you’re a sweet, brave, wonderful young woman.” They cried and hugged for a long time before Jordan seemed to calm. After a while of silence, Ted spoke again. “Jordan I want you to know that if you need a little help getting ready for bed, I’ll take care of it for you…ok?”
The flood of emotions they both felt in that moment were powerful. Jordan — loved, wanted, seen, understood (to a degree), and well cared for. Ted — responsible, stepping up to the plate, doing the hard things even though they were difficult, being there for his children when they needed them, being ‘Daddy’.
——————
Shortly after their little cry session together, Ted took leadership again and announced that it indeed was getting late. “So, we really do need to get to bed. Do you wanna take a shower or do anything else before I…we…um…get your…uh…diaper…on?”
He felt quite awkward speaking so frankly but attempted to continue the theme of powering through his fears.
“Um, lemme just go to the bathroom and stuff…I’ll shower in the morning.” She got up and disappeared into the bathroom through the solitary apartment bedroom. In the meantime, he picked up the large heavy plastic-wrapped package of adult diapers. ‘MOLICARE Adult Incontinence Briefs’ it read, ‘Super Plus Absorbency’, ‘Size Small/Medium’. The container was deceptively heavy. Ted noticed the open bag on top of his girls’ suitcase and traded it for the sealed package he had picked up. Inside were several purple diapers folded up. He pulled one out and tossed the bag back on the floor. It’s plastic was soft and it appeared to be folded in thirds. As he pulled the garment open carefully and curiously, Jordan walked back into the living room and stopped in her tracks.
He looked up and mirrored her apparent embarrassment. “Oh! I was just…getting ready for you…um…I hadn’t really seen these big of ones before…you don’t use ones like your sister huh?”
She remained in silence for a minute, absorbing the reality of what was about to happen — how open her Dad was behaving — and how apparently unjudgmental he seemed to be. “No, they don’t make baby ones for kids as big as me dad.” She tried to smile even though she felt nervous. She wanted her Dad to help her with the task, but she was terrified of it at the same time.
“Well. How about you get over here so you can get to bed ok?” She obeyed as he continued, “So how does your Mom usually do this? Do you just lay down on the floor like Jen used to?” Of course it hadn’t been terribly long since Jen was out of her nighttime diapers and ever since she had been doing overnight visits at what had been Ted & Melissa’s apartment, he had done a fair deal of diapering — so he wasn’t profoundly out of practice.
“Um, yeah…pretty much…” she said standing next to him as he sat on the couch. She paused for a couple seconds; unsure of what she was waiting for.
“So do you want help with those too or do you do that yourself?” He said, feeling surprisingly incrementally comfortable with the process, motioning toward her jean shorts.
“Oh. Um. Yeah. I can do that.” She said, almost as though jolted out of deep thought. She quickly stripped them off along with her panties and in almost the same maneuver, sat on the floor and began to lay back on the aging carpet.
Ted rapidly went into action. His nerves at being around his thirteen year old daughter naked had finally caught up with him and he rushed through the process more quickly than she usually would’ve preferred. But it was ok for a start. Wordlessly now, he slid the diaper toward her and she lifted up knowingly. Rapidly, and not entirely tightly enough, he secured the four tapes and then smiled at her, indicating the process was complete. She offered a small smile in return, still not fully knowing what to think — but grateful for his willingness.
As it turned out, getting diapered by her Dad that first time (for real) wasn’t as surreal as it had been in her dreams. But for Jordan, the experience didn’t need to be like the dreams. After seeing how obviously stressed and uncomfortable he was with the whole conversation — and respecting his willingness to bring it up in the first place — her faith in his genuine interest in her life had only grown. Having been shown through his reasoning process with so much transparency only increased her trust in him. In the end, the tall girl with the amazing gift of writing started to feel a little bit ‘at home’ once again in the world. Laying on the floor with her dad pulling on her nighttime pajama pants, her sense of acceptance and security only swelled. Somehow, Jordan knew that this was only a taste of other future sacrifices her Dad would make for her as they presented themselves in the future.
A purple diaper and a pat on the butt were only just a symbols.
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Aug 30, 2014 at 11:21 PM
Content: Ok Folks -- Here Goes The final Flourish!!!
Get READY!!!
The 3 Final Chapters all in a row - It's been fun. Enjoy!
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 50 - [Monday, July 1, 2002]
It was Monday before either Emma Smart or the cheap-ass lawyer Roger Johnson finally phoned Sally back. Because it was summertime, each of them took shorter schedules on Fridays and phone messages were on the back burners of their lives in general. Luckily for everyone involved, Sally had refrained from calling the police or filing a missing person’s report for her daughter who was ‘held’ over at her estranged husband’s apartment. She had, however, called Camp White Pines and ‘bit the head off’ of every person she could get on the other end of the line for allowing her daughter to leave with her father. The various administrators and directors who had passed the phone around to receive her fury had understood the family was in the midst of a divorce and presented a tough home situation. They also knew that without an explicit court order (which they didn’t have) the camp couldn’t get in the middle of a parental custody dispute.
When Roger Johnson got ahold of Sally at work Monday morning, the day before the final divorce court hearing, he did all he could to calm her, reminding her that Ted was Jordan’s father and that he had every right to go pick her up from camp. He had gone on to say that until custody rights were determined by the court, Ted was well within his legal jurisdiction to do what he had done. “You two have never come up with a parenting plan in your legal separation Sally — there’s nothing in writing that says he can’t do what he did. You need to relax.”
Emma Smart had echoed a smiler sentiment before Sally had blown up at her over the phone, “But how can he keep me from seeing my daughter?! He’s had her all weekend and hasn’t allowed me to have access to her at all!”
“Listen Sally, you and I both know that tomorrow at court, the judge is gonna ask Jordan where she’d like to primarily live once the divorce is finalized. She will have the right to give her opinion: Ted’s house or yours.” The social worker paused to let the reminder sink in. She was pretty sure Sally knew that her daughter would have input, but she figured that the information could’ve been lost in her state of anger. “After tomorrow, she could be living at Ted’s place permanently so I think you just need to take a breather. Ok? What he did isn’t illegal. And besides, choosing not to talk with you given the way you’re behaving right now isn’t illegal either! In fact, I think it’s probably pretty reasonable.”
Sally was speechless by the rebuke. But of course the social worker was correct. She would be in court the next day and Jordan would have a voice to offer. And that was a new fear added to Sally’s plate of anxiety stir-fry.
Why didn’t I just let Jordan come home when she asked? It wasn’t that crazy of a request really… She was gonna have to be here for this anyways…maybe I should’ve let her come for the weekend or something… Now what’ll I do if I don’t get to stitch up things with her before then? What if she chooses to live with Ted instead of me? What if he breaks our family up even more!? What if he tricks her and draws her away from me? The mother of three stewed in inner turmoil.
———————
Ted felt bad that he didn’t have a real ‘place’ for Jordan to be during the daytime hours once the week started again and actually had apologized to her that she’d have to hang out at the office. They went out for a late breakfast that Monday morning at a cute french cafe with bakery that had fancy rolls and croissants and fantastic hot drinks — Jordan got hot chocolate with a bacon wrapped flaky pastry.
“So we need to talk about a few things before the day gets away from us Jordan. Ok?”
Because of her year-long anxiety about diapers and because of their tense an awkward new arrangement involving them beginning the previous Thursday evening, she felt fear that it had something to do with that subject. Every night since she had been staying at his house, he had been helping her get ready for bed just as Sally had once done. To her happiness, he had incrementally been getting better and better at the motherly task. Jordan’ appreciation for his careful attention was so great that she didn’t want to do anything to spoil it.
“Um…ok?…what about…?”
“Not about that. Alright? Just relax.” He could see right through his teenage daughter who still so clearly resembled his little girl from a decade ago.
“Tomorrow is the final hearing for the divorce Jordan. Do you know what that means?”
She vaguely remembered the social worker telling her at one point about something she’d have to do in court at one point, but she couldn’t exactly recall the details. She nodded slightly, trying to act mature. Inside, she felt afraid and sad.
So this is really the end then huh? She thought. They’re really not gonna be getting back together…? It’s all over? Even though Melissa is gone…
“Well, I’m gonna tell you a little bit anyways, just in case you don’t know everything…ok?” Not waiting for a response, he continued, “Well, sometimes when people get divorced, they’re able to work everything out between one another and then the judge just signs off on it. Unfortunately, your Mom and I weren’t able to do that and agree on everything…I think you’ve probably noticed that it’s been pretty tense between us?”
She nodded an affirmation.
“I did some bad things Jordan. I really did. I said some bad stuff; and so did she. Melissa did some bad stuff too actually — that’s why that lady’s been coming to see you and visiting your house and everything. It isn’t good sweetie. We’re not sure what’s gonna happen actually. I feel really bad about this because it wasn’t what I wanted at all, but things just got out of control.” He looked her in the eyes and said, “I’m really sorry Jordie. I screwed up bad. I wish I could fix it all…but there’s some stuff that just can’t go back to how it was…”
She couldn’t help but release a tear from the corner of her eye. Speechless, she stared back at him.
“I want you to hear me Jordan. I did a lot of stupid things. I did. I want you to know too that I think your mom did as well…I don’t think her anger right now is helping anyone at all — her the least. I really want to be able to get along with her but I can’t talk with her if she berates me and screams at me. I won’t put myself through that kind of treatment anymore. Now…this is probably too much for me to be telling you and I’m going to be quiet right away…it’s not your burden to bear, ok?”
She nodded again.
“But this is the thing, tomorrow at court, anything could happen. And that means that you and your sisters could end up living primarily with me.” He raised his eyebrows and looked for a response.
The teenager looked back in shock. “What? With you? How—”
“Jordan. I’m not saying that’s gonna happen but the judge could decide anything. I mean, your mom has been accused of some bad stuff — I don’t think she did any of it personally and I don’t think it’s gonna stick…But if it does, you all could end up over here for a while…”
Jordan looked alarmed and surprised but still didn’t speak, simply twisting her hot chocolate in her hands.
“Another piece of this is that you’re gonna be there — in the court room. And at one point she’s gonna be asking you what you think; what you wanna do.”
“ME? What? The judge? Dad! Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”
“Jordan, I’m pretty sure you’ve been told before…but but I’m telling you again about it now…the social worker, Ms. Smart, she called earlier this morning and wants to meet with you this afternoon to talk about it some more as well.”
“Dad. This is insane. What are you…I’ve never…I mean…” the young girl was overwhelmed by the very idea of the shift in living location. When it had come up in conversation the last time, she hadn’t taken it seriously and so the information had quickly slipped her mind. But now that it was a real possibility — the very idea was shocking. To stay with her dad for a few nights respite was one thing, but to choose it permanently was something entirely different.
The very concept of moving out or being away was foreign. Yet at the same time, it had a strange and comforting allure. The fact that her Dad had been so gentle, forthright, and caring with her over the past several days (and really over the past couple months) had really grown on her — and in some ways she had come to see him as a ‘break’ from her Mom who had seemingly become a religious zealot. Jordan thought about what it might be like if only she moved in with her Dad (but not her sisters); how sad it would be to not see them grow up from day to day. But then she thought about how much they had come to resent her for the way their Mom had focused attention on her over the past year. She thought about the girls in her neighborhood and how, if her Dad continued to live in the city, she might not have to see them as much (which was positive given all the diaper craziness having been revealed at camp).
Ted began talking as she thought, “Listen honey, I’m not telling you this to persuade you or put pressure on you or something right now. I want you to do whatever you want to do and honestly, I’ve never even really thought that you might want to stay with me (I mean, permanently)…until this weekend…I mean, it’s been kind of a hard year you know? And…well…anyways…I just want you to know that if you want to stay at my house for a little while or a long time it’s absolutely ok with me. But if you want to keep things how they’ve been and stay with your Mom, don’t you worry about me being upset or anything… All I wanted to tell you is that this is gonna happen tomorrow and I think you should spend some time thinking about it today…”
She nodded, unable to think of any other response, she said, “Thanks Dad.”
The rest of their breakfast had been somewhat awkward after the difficult and pointed conversation on such a heavy topic. Jordan’s mind churned and churned and churned, unable to flip off for the life of her. The rapid neural activity continued all afternoon through Emma’s visit at the Hope Seattle office. The social worker gave Jordan more context and confidence about what the courtroom experience would be like — she also helped her think more slowly about the implications of her request to the court. Emma talked with her about visitations, about the concept of custody, and also that she could change her mind one way or the other at any point along the way. Nothing was set in stone.
———
By the time bedtime rolled around, Jordan’s anxiety level had fallen drastically and she felt increasingly prepared for her day ahead. A soft diaper wrapped around her adult-sized frame was the added security that topped everything off in order to lead her to a state of calm confidence.
“You know Dad, if I end up staying with you for a while, you’re gonna have to get a place where I can have my own room…I can’t just have suitcases out lying around with a bags of diapers on the floor.” She glanced over at her clothes surrounding the last remaining sealed bag of diapers and a few singles laying not top of it.
Feeling anxiety himself now about the apparent, very real possibility, Ted said, “Yeah. That’s true dear. Are you thinking you want to do that?…I mean…stay with me…?”
“I’m not sure Dad.” She smiled at him, laying back in her couch-bed and pulling a sheet up loosely over her pajama’ed frame. “But maybe.”
“Hmm…wow…well we’ll see what the judge says tomorrow I guess…” Ted said. He started to get up when he remembered another detail he had forgotten. “Oh Jordan, I wanted to tell you. I talked with my lawyer a little bit about that other thing — involving the lady from the hospital…?”
“…Oh…yeah?”
“And…well he thinks we have grounds to file a civil suit against the nurse as well as the hospital; and potentially we’ll get some compensation for you.”
“Compensation?”
“Money. Jordan.”
“Oh. Well. How is that gonna help anything?”
“Well…it won’t directly…and that’s why I wanna ask you about this before I move forward with anything. With these kinds of situations, there’s no criminal law that has been broken. You know? The lady that spread those things about you can’t go to jail or whatever for that. And of course the things that she spread can’t get taken back. Like — the kids that know what they know are always gonna know it.”
She looked down and felt afraid.
“That’s part of the pain of this thing….that’s why it’s such a big deal. But the way the nurse gets held accountable for this is through a civil lawsuit. If we won a court case like that, she’d almost certainly get fired, and she or the hospital would probably have to pay you some money. It could be used for college in the future or maybe even paying for homeschool if you decided to quit going to BCS because the drama was too great…or even if you chose to stay home to write more books or something. It’s to give you options because her choice caused you real loss…”
All the legal mumbo jumbo didn’t quite stick in Jordan’s brain, especially so late at night and especially after such long and stressful day with so many big decisions to figure out. She didn’t really want to have to make another one but this seemed to be her plight. “Hmm…well, I guess it sounds ok. Maybe we should go after her…”
“Are you sure? Maybe you should sleep on it dear.” He replied, surprised by her decisiveness.
“Yes. I’m sure actually. I don’t want her to get away with it.”
“Ok sweetie. I don’t want to promise you anything. And Of course I haven’t talked with your mom in in several days — she probably needs to be able to give her opinion on this too. So I’ll keep working on it and let you know how things go. But I just wanted to make sure you were alright with it before I spent much more time…If at some point you wanna stop. We can. Ok?”
“Thanks dad.” She smiled. HIs care and concern was notable and different than she had ever appreciated before. Where did this man come from? He’s like the Dad I’ve always wanted and needed — appearing out of thin air. “I’m sure though…let’s do it.”
——————
[Tuesday, July 2, 2002]
The courtroom wasn’t as Jordan expected it would be. All the shows she had seen on TV featured large marble halls with huge wooden thrones ensconced with perches for bailiffs and witnesses on either side. But this one was much more modern, bright, and simple even though it was in an old building downtown. It did feature a wooden wall behind where the judge sat — which wasn’t much higher than the main floor. Other than that however, it looked like a classroom with regular metal and leather bound chairs, weird steel dividers for different sections, teal carpet, and bright white florescent lighting. She didn’t like it. It felt like a dentist’s office.
She had missed much of the morning’s conversations because she was only thirteen. No one thought it appropriate for her to hear a great deal about how the couple’s finances would be divided, who would keep the house and furniture (Sally after all) or the van (Sally again) or the savings accounts (split down the middle). She had also therefore missed the bulk of Emma Smart’s final report to the judge.
As the young and inexperienced social worker had laid out her findings before the judge, she had stood behind the counsel’s table confidently upright holding a pencil in one hand and looking down casually at her notebook on the table. Her findings had been as follows. First and foremost, she had changed her initial investigation finding against Sally Reynolds from ‘inconclusive’ to ‘unfounded’. In Ms. Smart’s opinion, the mother of three clearly hadn’t been sexually abusive or neglectful. Obviously, the habit of diapering a thirteen year old (when most kids that age wouldn’t be wearing such things at all) was quite unusual. But in this case, Emma reported to the court that from all measures (academic, social, psychological, physical, etc.) the girl isn’t maladapted to it and in fact seemed to be quite agreeable to her medical diagnosis, the ‘treatment’ for it, and her mother’s involvement in that.
Emma had gone on to describe her misgivings about the initial reporter, Melissa Cooper (who wasn’t in the courtroom that hot summer July day). She talked about how her motives had clearly come into question during her investigation and that she had obviously been caught in a lie about a situation involving Jordan and diapers over at Ted Reynolds' home early after he and Sally’s separation. This information had been news to both of Jordan’s parents and each of them had acted quite surprised after hearing it. Furthermore, Melissa demonstrated obvious anger toward Sally and a bent toward malicious revenge. Given that none of Jordan’s doctors or other medical personnel who were aware of both her diagnosis and Sally’s involvement in her care had initiated CPS reports, Melissa’s credibility as a ‘whistleblower’ was further in question.
After she had finished her report, the judge (who had been with Sally and Ted all along through their tense divorce proceeding) briefed them on what Jordan would be invited to do during the next section of the hearing. She said, “In just a moment, we’ll invite your daughter Jordan in; I understand she’s out in the waiting area? Correct?”
Sally and Ted both nodded.
“We don’t want this to be too hard on her and I’m going to ask of each of you to not be in the courtroom while this it place. She’s going to give her statement to Emma and I and the court transcriptionist and then you’ll be able to come back in. We’re in the process of writing some new laws that will allow for teens to do this kind of thing in contexts outside the courtroom where it’s more comfortable for them — but it’s just not there yet — so here we are. For right now, in order for it to be part of the legal record, she’s gotta say it in front of me.”
They nodded again and headed out of the courtroom.
“Before you go. You both need to know that her wishes aren’t written in stone… I’m allowed to take them into consideration but I will be making the final ruling on custody considering all the facts that have been presented so far.”
Sally blurted in as she turned around for the judge’s second phrase, “But I thought she just said the case against me was totally unfounded!? How can you use any of that nonsense against me now in terms of custody?”
“You need to watch yourself Mrs. Reynolds.” The judge’s eyes were like darts immediately glaring down the middle aged woman on the front row. “I’ve put up with just about enough of your mouth over the course of this case. You’re out of order right now…”
Sally blanched at the rebuke while the judge continued, “But to answer your question, Ms. Smart’s finding is only with regard to an indictment for child abuse. She found no grounds for such a cause. However, in Washington state law, the court is expected to consider the conduct of both parents during the entire course of their marriage, and the impact of all parental behavior on the children as a basis for its decision on custody. This would include the behavior that Ms. Smart elucidated in her report, even if it didn’t reach the level of an indictment for breaking any law. The court certainly frowns upon a parent who is even accused of abandoning his or her child, having been physically, sexually or emotionally abusive to a child, having had a history of domestic violence, or having had other criminal convictions. But it also frowns upon what it might consider to be a lack of judgment on either parent’s part at any course during the marriage.”
Sally started to open her mouth in protest but the judge interrupted again, “Right now would be a time to actively choose good judgment Mrs. Reynolds, and keep your comments to yourself.” She said smiling firmly.
————
Jordan was in the courtroom for less than a total of twenty minutes. The judge’s questions had been to the point yet somewhat maternal in tone. Notably shifting from her hard edge presented toward Sally, she became kind — even sweet. Not many questions were needed however to ascertain Jordan’s wish, and in short order both Ted and Sally were called back into the courtroom.
Jordan returned to the waiting area.
Once everyone was back at their places, the judge pounded her gavel one time and began speaking. “The findings of the state in the matter of the abuse allegations notwithstanding, I have found Mrs. Reynolds' behavior in this courtroom over the course of the past months to be disruptive, shocking at times, and concerning. While there hasn’t been clear evidence demonstrative of abuse or neglect, I have reason to question her emotional stability and perhaps even her judgment at times.” Looking directly at Sally the judge said, “However, this could be said for all of us at times in our lives and it doesn’t rule us out for parenthood in the state’s eyes. Ma’am I really must advise you to get some attention from mental health professionals for handling your emotions better. Your outbursts and fainting spells have not been indicative of good coping skills. I appreciate the stressfulness of this season in your life; but these behaviors are simply not acceptable and will not help your children be successful in life.”
Sally turned red in embarrassment and rage but said nothing.
She continued, “With all that being said, your character references: friends, family, coworkers, teachers from school, and pastors, all rave about how wonderful of a person you are and how devoted of a mother you are. Even your estranged husband added a reference for your skill — which seems odd in a contested custody divorce such as this. It’s hard to look past these things even in light of what I’ve observed. Your two younger daughters appear very stable in your home. You have adequate childcare and it seems that you and Ted have worked out a somewhat amiable visitation schedule with them. You’re working full time now and so you’re able to support them financially which is essential.”
Sally nodded, feeling some of her anger dissipate. Yet the fact that the Judge hadn’t mentioned Jordan was concerning. Ted noticed the same thing and wondered if that meant that she was dividing custody somehow.
She continued, “As for your oldest daughter Jordan, while it seems that the same situation would apply for her in terms of stability in your home Mrs. Reynolds, she’s made it very clear that she would prefer placement in her father’s primary custody.”
“What!?” Sally gasped out loud in shock and unable to control herself. Ted’s eyes bulged wide and looked over at his estranged wife in horror first, then surprise, then happiness.
“Mrs. Reynolds! Another outburst from you and I’ll hold you in contempt! Knock it off!” The judge shouted from the bench, clearly at her wits’ end.
Sally nodded meekly.
“The decision of the court with regards to custody will be unusual then — but given the circumstances I don’t think out of order. Primary (but joint) custody for Miranda and Jennifer will be granted to Sally with biweekly weekend and weekly weeknight visitations for Ted. Primary (but joint) custody for Jordan will be granted to Ted with the same visitation rights for Sally. I’d suggest that it be arranged that visitations are set so that the sisters are able to spend most weekends together. You’ll have to figure out the exact schedule with one another — but of course if you can’t, I can settle it for you as well.” She glared at each of them. “This arrangement seems in the best interest of everyone. Sally: to help better manage her delicate stress levels in addition to separating her from any potentially questionable contact with her daughter even though all the charges were determined to be unfounded. Jordan: to accommodate her reasonable preference. And Ted: to allow him full and regular access to each of his children.” She went on to describe the basic financial ramifications of the arrangement.
Sally’s face contorted into an ugly frown and then tears began to flow as if she were a two-year-old denied her favorite stuffed animal. As the judge mashed her gavel on the bench and called for a recess until after lunch, Sally dropped her head and resorted to loud sobs, filling the courtroom. Ted couldn’t help but feel empathy for her as he also was filled with fear and apprehension for the somewhat unexpected turn of events. He certainly had been open to the outcome, but wasn’t at all planning on it actually occurring.
He walked over to his estranged wife and attempted to put a hand out to comfort her — she swung at it in rage. “Get away from me you bastard! YOU’VE DESTROYED EVERYTHING!!! YOU’VE WRECKED OUR WHOLE LIVES!!! I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY NOW!!! I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY” As she seethed she got up and stomped out of the courtroom into the hallway.
“Sally! Stop! Sally!” He yelled after his stunned silence at her vehemence wore off. The father and CEO chased her out of the coatroom.
In the hall, he could see her marching toward the exit stairwell, Jordan sat in tears in a heap on the marble floor. “Sally! Wait! Stop!” He called out and she slowed to look back toward the two of them.
Jordan looked up at her Dad pathetically — telegraphing him silently every hostile and threatening word that had been doused upon her by her mom in the hall.
“What do you want more from me Ted? What possibly more could you want to take?” She spat as she took a step back into the hallway at the top of the stairs.
“Sally, I didn’t want for it to be like this. I wanted to fix things. I know I did wrong. But I didn’t call CPS…”
“Oh shut up! Quit lying! You’ll pay for that! Your lying… God will judge you Ted.” Her self-righteous indignation blinding her. “This is ALL your fault. EVERY BIT OF IT. ALL YOUR FAULT. QUIT LYING!!! JUST QUIT LYING!!!” She screamed.
Even though Sally hadn’t precisely done much to produce their initial separation or Ted’s affair, she was completely unable to take any responsibility for her role in any of what had transpired over the past year. From Sally’s perspective, she was 100% victim and Ted was 100% aggressor. The story colored everything in her mind. This too fit her new idea of legalistic faith: no room for failure, or for grace. Implicitly in her mind, if anyone made a mistake, God would punish them as he had done to her for diapering Jordan in the first place. The standard is perfection. Period. Forgiveness is only available in the context of penitent perfection.
“Sally I’m not lying. Melissa and Brian filed the report behind my back. I wouldn’t make that crap up about you in a million years. Didn’t you hear the social worker in there? Even ask Jordie, I wasn’t trying to get her to come stay with me ever…I mean…I didn’t even know what she was gonna say today. The only reason she’s at my house right now is that you refused to come get her at camp after all those horrible things happened — and then you’ve been so mean —“
“That’s it TED! I’m not taking one more bit of ABUSE from you!” She barked, unable to even stomach the suggestion that she had misbehaved in the least. “And YOU young lady. When the time comes, AND IT WILL, you better come crawling back to me with a pretty good apology. Because, I’m not just gonna let you move back into my house without it! This kind of betrayal doesn’t just go away! You’ve lost a LOT of trust here.” She glared at Jordan who felt her Mom’s shame like a weight around her neck. Little did Jordan know at that moment — that the shame was indeed her Mom’s and not her own. It would take years for the young adolescent to figure that out.
Without hesitation, Sally then turned and marched down the stairs with her head held astonishingly high given her behavior. Once she turned the corner, Jordan burst into tears and Ted curled to the ground, engulfing his daughter in a huge embrace. She cried for a long time, thanking her Daddy for defending her, for being willing to let her move in with him, for taking care of her. He said little but simply hugged his little girl and cried like a baby.
- - - Updated - - -
Chapter 51 - [Friday, July 5, 2002]
It would take Mindi and Jen a long time to fully understand the implications of the court’s decision. Sally was obviously upset when she had picked them up from daycare Tuesday evening and she had tried to explain (perhaps prematurely) that Jordan wasn’t going to be living at the house anymore, but they both interpreted the information as something akin to what had already been taking place over the summer. Even though their sister had been gone for only a couple weeks, they had become accustomed to her absence and so in their minds, Sally’s announcement just meant ‘more of the same, but of course Jordan will come back at some point’. Sally had decided to drop the discussion rather than insisting on the finality of the court’s decision; because maybe she will end up coming back after all? Who knows?
All week, Sally’s frustration at being helpless in the situation showed. Every little inconvenience set her into into mini-rages. Every plan that didn’t quite go as anticipated threw her into whining and self-pity. Even her coworkers noticed how she carried her increased stress on her sleeves.
Jen and Mindi, being younger, had adapted to their Mom’s sensitivity and particularity over the previous months without really being aware of it. She had changed a lot since her reorientation to faith but without the maturity to think abstractly or process life outside of their connection to their Mom, as any children they simply absorbed the environment they found themselves within. It wasn’t as if Sally wasn’t loving either. She gave her girls hugs and kisses, she consistently offered nighttime stories and asked them about their days’ at childcare, and offered all kinds of other shows of affection. The odd thing was that although her language and behavior was filled with “God, Bible, church, love, grace, worship, Jesus, etc”, even when she became angry, it had such religious overtones that it sounded ‘good’ to the uninitiated despite its lack of health.
All of this was compounded by the fact that Sally saw herself as a moral and spiritual ‘giant’ among weaklings. In her eyes, she had uniquely been endowed with a painful ‘Biblical Job-like experience’ from God (though as a punishment) that had grown her into a woman with more authority and wisdom on life than anyone around. Essentially no one could give her instructions or advice that she hadn’t either ‘already thought of’ or ‘completely disagreed with’. She was her own frame of reference — and a force to be reckoned with.
—————
Jordan had had a fantastic week following the divorce hearing. Ted had taken off the remainder of it to search for a new apartment with her; as she had pointed out, the single room joint wouldn’t be adequate long term. In addition, they also went on a hunt for a simple new (used) car — both tasks she had enjoyed thoroughly. After a couple days of looking, they settled on a two bedroom place in the same neighborhood on Capitol Hill that wasn’t too far from where he had been before. Ted could walk to work if he wanted and if Jordan ended up in Public school, she’d be in an entirely different district than some of the kids who had come to know her at Camp White Pines that summer. The two would be able to move their stuff in the following Monday. In addition, Ted picked out an old ’93 Honda Accord off a sleazy used car dealer’s lot down the street. He hated dickering for cars and so had just paid the asking price since Jordan liked the after-market stereo that had been installed in it.
To top the week off with a cherry, Ted was able to procure for Jordan an ‘old’ used orange-colored Apple Clamshell laptop from the Hope Seattle office. It was one that one of the administrative assistants had used and she recently had received an upgraded newer model. Ted put a donation in toward the replacement and brought the ‘clunker’ home.
“A writer needs decent tools I’d say.” He had reasoned as he handed over the still rather valuable piece of hardware. Jordan had been ecstatic. She had seen the ‘cool’ laptops on many TV commercials over the couple of years since they had been released and she had known that they were far out of her parents’ household budget to buy new. It didn’t matter that the gift was now a couple years old, she felt like a superstar with the fancy machine that appeared to be not much beyond gently used.
Yet all of that wasn’t able to top her Dad’s continued willingness to ‘take care’ of her every night just as her Mom had once done. But in a way, his attention was even better as it was something she had longed for and missed out on for years before Sally had even begun the ritual. Somehow, having ‘Daddy’ looking after her in this way was something she needed in order for her world to be ‘right’.
Ted’s diapering duty had continued nightly since Jordan’s arrival back from camp the previous week and he had grown rather deft at folding, pulling, and taping the plastic puffy purple garments in just the right ways to obtain the best fit. He even was willing to put in an online order for a new case of diapers once they had cracked into her final bag. To Jordan’s delight, he had even said ‘yes’ to order a couple bags of other brands for her to try out — she had reasoned to him that perhaps the purple ones contributed to her rashes (for which she now cared for exclusively) and maybe others would be less sensitive on her skin. In truth, she had seen the others on the website she had discovered before going to camp and was curious about how they would feel. Too embarrassed to tell him the truth, he had happily ordered all that she requested and within a few days, she was trying out her first ‘Attends’ brand diapers as well as ‘Abena’ which she liked very much.
————
On Friday morning the week of the divorce hearing and the day after Independence Day, the two found themselves out to breakfast once more at the French bakery that had become a favorite spot for each of them. Jordan was working on the edits to her story on her new computer and Ted was reading a book when none other than Mr. Johns walked up to their table, pulled up a chair, and sat down without so much as a hello.
The two were flabbergasted. Jordan hand’t seen her music teacher since the end of school and she hadn’t hardly talked to him other than her curt comments and rudeness in response to his repair attempts on their relationship. Mr. Johns didn’t smile, but rather looked as though he sat before the two of them for business.
What the hell? Why is he here? And how did he even find us here? We’re like in a totally different part of the city. He lives in Everett or something! What the heck?! Jordan didn’t understand how such a random appearance could even be possible.
“Hi Jordan. How’s your summer going?” he asked without seeming insight into any of the events and/or rumors at camp or without awareness that his appearance on Capitol Hill could be slightly odd.
“Um…interesting…I guess…” she replied feeling uncomfortable.
“Ted.” He looked over at the CEO of Hope Seattle and smiled politely.
“Tyler.” Ted smiled politely back.
“Well I’m not here to eat breakfast — although this is probably my favorite bakery in Seattle. Adrian and I come here all the time for ‘dates’, especially during the summer…I saw you guys here last week and I’m sorry to interrupt. But I have some important business to attend to with you Ted.” He talked loudly — wearing his emotions on his sleeves. Mr. Johns seemed strangely…arrogant…to Jordan. As though he knew he was guaranteed to win the lottery or something.
“You know Tyler, this isn’t the best tim——“
“Actually Ted. It is. You need to hear this. NOW.” He glared at the man who had obviously become his adversary.
Ted didn’t want to make a scene in the cafe, but he also didn’t want to secede power to Mr. Johns and appear weak in front of Jordan. Yet, without upping the ante, he decided there was no other real option. “Ok Tyler, I guess I can spare a couple minutes for you. Jordan? How about you go take a walk for a few minutes? Alright? Get some fresh—“
“No. Actually I want her to hear this Ted. She needs to know what the stakes are here.” He looked at Jordan with pity and perhaps even contempt both for the way she had judged him and also for ending up so close with her father, a man he considered to be not much better than the devil incarnate.
Feeling locked into a corner, Ted felt his anger boil to the surface and he replied, “K…” through gritted teeth.
“When we finish this meeting Ted, you will call up your lawyer and instruct him to drop the lawsuit against Anne Rodgers.” He said calmly and yet with sternness in his voice. It was a clear command and the line obviously had been rehearsed.
“What!?” they both said at the same moment, Ted in relief and Jordan in shame and fear. Ted had ended up going forward with the suit without Sally's permission because she had been utterly unwilling to say more than two words with him before or after the divorce hearing. But this command was completely out of left field.
“You heard me. As soon as I leave this meeting, you will call up your lawyer and instruct him to drop the civil lawsuit you’ve filed against the medical assistant, Anne Rodgers.” He repeated again a little more firmly but equally as calm. Without a doubt, he had ammunition to back up his request.
Jordan felt terrified that her teacher knew all about the rumors and everything that had happened at camp for certain — and if he knew, everyone back home in Ballard knew — which meant that pretty much everyone at school knew! She broke into a cold sweat, not realizing the gravity of the implications in his demand.
“Now wait just a second here. What makes you think you have the right to come in here and start demand——“ Ted began, asserting his authority.
“I do Ted. Oh believe me, I do.” He became even more calm. Tyler Johns appeared to love the poetry of the moment — the drama in the opportunity. His personality too had been gilded by the experience of succumbing to blackmail. The disillusionment he felt after losing his relationship with his most important student at school and seeing himself become a pawn in political church games had been harsh. Rather than backing off and quitting, Tyler Johns was ready to play hard ball. If that’s how the game is played, I’ll play it, he had decided before Anne Rodgers’ lawsuit had even arisen.
The moment sitting before Ted and Jordan was too sweet to touch for Tyler. He had played it out many times in his mind. Ted’s apparent shock in particular was gratifying. He repeated the command again, and added his zinger, “Ted, you will call off the lawsuit, or I will have you fired. Period. And I won’t back down this time.”
He glared at the father of three, sitting up straight, offering him his best impression of strength.
“First. Tyler.” Ted began, as if to diminish the man’s stature by using his first name, “What makes you think you could possibly have the votes to get the job done if you couldn’t get it done the last time? The company is stronger than it’s ever been. We have more employees and volunteers than ever. We’ve had our biggest year of served clients yet. They’ve already had a vote of confidence for me — why would the board ever entertain another? Over the past six months alone our role in the city has multiplied three times over. I’m the CEO, I’m behind all that! Why would they get rid of me? Second,” he continued before Tyler could answer the rhetorical question, “why in God’s name do you even care? This is a personal matter that doesn’t concern you and I have no idea how you even got information pertaining to it.”
“Oh. You are so incredibly wrong Ted. Wrong on both counts.” He twiddled his fingers for a beat before continuing. “But I’ll just let you in on the second. Anne Rodgers? She’s Mrs. Johns best friend. She was her maid of honor in our wedding. We went to grade school together and some of high school. She was part of the reason we moved up here in the first place, TED. We’re not letting her go through this out of your spite. That’s bullshit. If you get to make a mistake and keep your job, so does she. YOU’RE gonna let it go!” He paused for dramatic effect. “And I don’t really give a shit Ted — if you try to pull your nonsense on me again. If you try to blackmail me and threaten me through your little minions — I’ll have your ass one way or another. I GUARANTEE IT.”
Ted was shocked by his vitriol as was Jordan. She couldn’t hardly believe that (a) an intelligent woman like Mrs. Johns would be friends with an idiot like Anne Rodgers and (b) that Mr. Johns still really thought that her Dad was behind the blackmail plot the previous winter at all. Doesn’t he know the truth? Doesn’t he realize that Daddy had nothing to do with what Mr. Yates did? She thought, thinking back on the long process she had had to go through in order to free her father from guilt in her own mind.
“Listen Tyler, I didn’t blackmail you ok? It wasn’t my idea…it wasn’t in my—“
“Oh shut it Ted. Quit the charades alright?! Isn’t it time to fess up for once in your life? Once in your WHOLE LIFE? Stop trying to act like you had nothing to do with it. We ALL know the truth. TJ told us you put him up to it.”
Ted’s mind went to the businessman Mr. Yates. That bastard, he’s double crossed me to save his own ass. Fucking asshole!! Immediately he registered the implication of his change in position. If TJ is turning his back on me, he’ll lead the board to vote against me. Tyler isn’t as full of shit as I thought.
The shock on Ted’s face registered with Mr. Johns. “So you see Ted, I DO have the votes. And I’ll use ‘em. Unless you drop the lawsuit. Think long and hard buddy. Long and hard. See ya Jordan. Have a good rest of the summer. Maybe I’ll see ya in class next year — then again, maybe I won’t.” He got up and walked off without another word.
Jordan was in complete shock — “What just happened Daddy? What is this? What are we gonna do?” Her mind raced, not at all comprehending the whole situation, let alone all the implications of what might or might happen given the various choices her Dad might take. The shift in her teacher caused her not to believe his allegations about his Dad’s truthfulness regarding the blackmail, but she was scared about what might happen to each of them if he really did get fired.
“This isn’t so good sweetie. Not so good. This is real political mud-slingin’…this is down and ugly and dirty. I’m sorry you had to sit through it.” He looked her in the eye with pain and embarrassment.
“Listen honey, I want you to know that I told you the truth before and I’m telling you the truth now…I didn’t have anything to do with the blackmail on your teacher alright? When Mr. Johns seemingly changed his mind and led the vote in favor of me keeping my job, I thought he was doing it to help me, not because he was being manipulated. I honestly — literally — had no idea. Yates is a shark and a liar. He’ll do anything to keep his influence.” Ted processed out loud as he seethed.
He continued, “So here’s where we’re left sweetie and I want you to give some input on this. If we go ahead with this case, I really might lose my job…in fact, I think it’s pretty likely. I mean, I think it’s probably the right thing that this Rodgers lady is held responsible for what she did to you. On the other hand, I’ve done some bad things, and I’ve ended up not having to deal with ALL the consequences (although now your mom and I are divorced and you and your sisters are suffering…and that’s pretty bad). But if we make sure Anne Rodgers is held accountable, it looks like I’ll have to go through some more pretty crappy stuff. And of course if I lose my job, you’ll have to go through some tough stuff too. It’s not gonna be easy sweetie.”
Jordan couldn’t help but think about the parallels between this new situation and the one Mr. Johns had been in the previous winter. She recalled the way she had reacted with such rage and disappointment after he told her that he hadn’t stuck up for what was right in following through with having her Dad fired for the affair with Melissa. At the time, she was so angry with her Dad that any suffering caused him seemed justified. Jordan had called Mr. Johns a weakling and a rubberneck, not willing to do anything he believed in if it caused a little discomfort.
Even though she was now on better terms with her Dad, she could see how the situation was very much the same, only with tables turned. Mr. Johns hadn’t done anything specifically to hurt her (until, sort of, that Friday morning) — but she knew she’d lose a great deal of respect for her Dad if he rolled over and behaved like he had done back in December. Fairly rapidly, sitting there in the French cafe on Broadway, she came to her firm decision.
“Stick the knife in and twist it Dad.” Her eyes were clear; she suddenly looked confident and calm.
“What?!” He said almost chuckling at her poetic and vengeance-tinged reply.
“Let’s keep the case and prosecute that hag. Who cares what happens? WE’LL be alright. God’ll take care of us one way or another. I think you should stand up for what’s right….Plus,” She smiled, “I want my Daddy to protect me. I want my Daddy to stand up for me. I want to know he’s got my back no matter what.”
He felt a powerful sense of righteous indignation rise up within him that he hadn’t experienced for quite a while. The things that had been done to his daughter were absolutely past the line and there was no excuse for anyone getting away with them — even if it cost him his job.
She’s right, he thought, I wanna be that Dad for her. I wanna be the one to stand up for her and protect her. If I’m not, who will be?
- - - Updated - - -
Epilogue - [August, 2002]
In the end, Tyler Johns kept his word to Jordan and her Dad given that Friday afternoon in Capitol Hill. When Ted and his lawyer refused to rescind their case against Adrian Johns’ friend Anne Rodgers for the way she had unscrupulously divulged private medical details about Jordan to her niece Nicole, Jordan’s classmate, Tyler Johns brought Ted’s then completed state of divorce back up to the board of Hope Seattle. That time, they had agreed with him. Since he was unable to make amends in his marriage and since he had caused the rift by an affair in the first place, it was impossible to keep him on as the CEO of the Christian organization. With TJ Yates having switched sides and putting his political power behind the conservative move, Ted didn’t have a chance.
But for one of the first times in his life, the (now single) father of three felt as though he had done the honorable thing and was in a ‘good place’ both emotionally and spiritually. He knew he had made a series of grave errors but he also knew that he was on the road to integrity. Over the weeks and months that followed all the ‘fireworks’, he increasingly became a dutiful caretaker of his teenage girl and felt proud of himself for having stuck to what was right.
The damages given Jordan for easily wining their civil lawsuit would provide some balm for the sting of the pink-slip as well. $82,000 was awarded all told (calculated out based on $32,000 in estimated expenses for the remainder of junior high and high school in a new private or home school environment, $25,000 for counseling and therapy, and the remainder for her pain and suffering through the incident). It wasn’t a windfall or anything, but it would be enough to help the two survive until Ted found new work. To add a little whipped cream on the top of her ‘vindication’ sundae, Nicole’s auntie Anne had been summarily fired from her job at the hospital as soon as the judgment against her came down.
Jordan, for her part, felt extremely proud of her Dad for sticking up for her and following through on ‘what was right’ — and she even grew a little respect back for Mr. Johns in an odd way. He finally grew a pair, she laughed to herself after her Dad had come home in such a surprisingly jovial mood to share with her the news about the board’s vote. Because Ted hadn’t freaked out, she hadn’t mirrored his emotions as she probably would’ve been tempted to do otherwise. She somehow knew despite the bad news, she would be completely taken care of. Her Daddy was finally looking out for her.
Later during that fall, the tall diaper-wearing girl with the bedwetting problem would discover that both Amber and Nicole ended up with a rather punishment of their own at school. Of course, legally speaking they had done nothing wrong. Morally — their actions had been infringing on evil, and certainly against the code of conduct at BCS. Because BCS was a private Christian School, it regularly made disciplinary bids on its students for behavior in their private home lives when it intersected with the lives of other students. This was a common sticking point of debate among the student body and parents, but the school’s policy was that if they were all about upholding ‘Christian values’ they needed to uphold them whenever they were made aware of situations on and off campus. Amber and Nicole’s breach of decency had been reprehensible in the eyes of the school administration.
For punishment, the two would be mandated to become ‘special helpers’ in the preschool room every single afternoon for their entire 9th grade year. They weren’t ‘teacher’s aids’ either. Rather, the preschool teacher had had a system in previous years whereby kids in her room rotated daily as the teacher’s start student for the day. This ‘very important’ kid would get to lead the line, pass out drinks and papers, come up front for demonstrations, and get the first pick of toys. Needless to say, the two were not thrilled with their juvenile assignment. But because of it, they each were forced to forfeit the opportunity to take an afternoon elective class as well as varsity sports for the year. This was perhaps the most painful part! Instead, all year long, they would play with little kids toys and be forced to take naps after lunch. Each of the powers that be (as well as Jordan) thought it a just (and appropriately humiliating) penalty for their behavior.
———
Jordan’s bedwetting held serve more or less in the months following her parent’s culminating divorce hearing and her Dad only became more accomplished at taking care of her diapering. As she had done back during the winter months, the teenager would return to the habit of regressing into infantile-like states of childish and silent wonder while being prepared for bed. She would coo and giggle, smile and sigh, look around the room wide eyed, and always act fully relaxed; safe and secure under her Dad’s attention. The feelings in her heart that had once come up from her Mom’s treatment very similarly returned with this new endeavor — but two or three fold in intensity.
Although everything had indeed changed for the young girl in a strange and difficult world, everything had changed.
She never had another daytime accidental wetting (to her Dad’s knowledge). And truthfully, what had happened in the car on the way home from camp was during an incredibly stressful moment (and during sleep to boot). Jordan’s secret about ‘liking’ diapers was something she simply couldn’t come to grips with exposing to her Dad that summer. Everything was just too perfect.
And besides, she reasoned, everyone’s got a few skeletons in their closet here or there. I’m no different than anyone else. The thirteen year old author resolved simply to let things roll — and maybe, perhaps, it’ll go away on it’s own in time and resolve itself? Who knows?
Jordan couldn’t help however, once her new supply arrived, but secretly wear and wet diapers around the apartment when she was alone felt sure she could get away with it.
———
Jordan’s Mom had been notably distant after the trial. When she went ‘home’ to 22nd to get her things one evening, Sally had shockingly already packed up her room; putting clothes into boxes and suitcases; rolling up her Harry Potter posters and folding up her rug. She had hardly said a word in their interactions that evening and when Jordan moved to give her a hug goodbye, Sally returned it with a very firm and very brief ‘grab and release’ style embrace. The body language was rigid and cool. Sally’s anger for Ted had clearly bled over to her teenage daughter and she hand’t even realized it until those tense moments back at her ‘old’ house. When Jordan had asked her when their first weekend visit would take place, Sally told her that she and her dad would figure it out between the two of them and he’d let her know. As of the middle of August, the first visit hadn’t yet occurred (although Mindi and Jen had come to visit she and her Dad in the new apartment more than once).
The starkness of her Mom’s sudden withdrawal was painful but somehow not surprising. The way she had spoken to her in the hallway of the courthouse and on the phone at camp were just predictors of what was to come. But in all reality, if Jordan was honest with herself, she knew that she had felt similar tension between she and her mother before. In fact, a similar dynamic had been present for much of her life.
Until the 9/11 attacks and the onset of her bedwetting, Jordan couldn’t even really remember a time where her Mom had been overtly compassionate or gentle. In the time before her sisters came along, Sally had worked full time and after that, Jordan felt pressure and expectation to be the ‘big-sister-mom’, even though she was still at a relatively early age.
The narrative memory that filled the thirteen year old’s head involved phrases from her mom that sounded like a repeating record, “Go get this Jordan, go get that. Help your sisters get ready for the day. Change your sister’s diaper. Get your sister’s food. Help me pick up. Why can’t you be more tidy? You need to take responsibility for yourself. You need to get your own self ready. You need to fix your own hair! I don’t have time to look at that Jordan. You’re old enough to take care of yourself!!” The commands and distancing comments felt all consuming for a little kid under ten; who, obviously, didn’t feel ready to grow up or become an adult. It wasn’t that she didn’t want any responsibilities; just to have KID ones instead of grownup ones.
Thus, her Mom’s shift back to a state of more chilly distance didn’t feel entirely new. It was the blackout of words that felt different. But in spirit it felt the same; and of course the pain was all too familiar.
The more remarkable shift in Jordan’s life was how her Dad had come to ‘show up’ in such a new and profound way over late spring and summer. Ted had never been particularly ‘cold’ or indifferent to Jordan’s needs per se, but his dedication to his career had kept his natural cup of empathy poured out on others instead of in the home. Thus, she never really experienced his care and concern much more than she had experienced her Mom’s. But somehow the young teenager knew her Dad still had it in him somewhere to the the kind of tender-hearted protector she so longed for. She just wasn’t quite self-aware enough to know that she wanted it per se or let alone how to access ‘that man’ in her Dad and ask for it. But almost magically, he had appeared out of thin air in her time of greatest need.
It was like falling off a precipice but being caught softly in a feather bed — held up by the strongest of arms. The feeling of having been fully beheld — fully understood — completely on the front burner of someone’s mind — was absolutely remarkable. She hand’t been more grateful for anything in her entire life.
————
The phone rang in the warm summer evening air inside the Ted & Jordan Reynolds’ Capitol Hill apartment. The sun was still shining brightly although it was far past dinnertime. Father and teenage daughter sat happily on their small metal patio deck outside, reading and relaxing in silence, listening to street sounds and soaking in the yellow rays. The two had developed a habit of spending Monday dinners together out on the deck; the electronic device inside the apartment was an unwanted disturbance.
“Ahhhgh, I was just getting comfortable!” Jordan exclaimed, slapping her book down gently on her lap.
“Tell me about it…” her Dad replied a little groggily, obviously having been on the verge of drifting off into a snooze. “…Just let it ring…”
“Nah, I’ll get it Dad, it’s ok.”
She made her way inside and answered the phone on what seemed like the eighth ring — just before it seemed as thought it should’ve stopped. “Daaad! It’s for you. SOUNDS IMPORTANT.” She hollered pleasantly if not mockingly from inside the house, knowing he’d have to get up as well.
“Alright, coming…” he said, muttering pleasantly as he got up.
Ted made his way into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “This is Ted.” He said.
The conversation from there was rapid and increased with intensity each second. But the energy exuded by Jordan’s Dad wasn’t that of anxiety or anger — it was excitement…joy. The caller on the other end hadn’t identified himself to Jordan, so she had little idea what the call was about (other than its urgency) but she couldn’t help but listen carefully as her father became more and more animated as it when on.
“So does she need to change anything? I mean. Is it done? Is is ready?” He asked before pausing.
Jordan’s mind at that point churned, is he talking to someone about my book?
“Yeah, sure, we can meet her tomorrow. Absolutely. What time? Where? Ok. Yeah for sure. Thank-you!”
He hung up. Glowing. Shaking a little. Obviously in shock.
Jordan couldn’t help but feel a transfer of some of his excitement. “Daddy, who was it? What’s going on?” She smiled, unable to contain herself, willing the words she was hoping for to come out of his mouth.
“Jordan, that was the Scholastic Corporation — probably the biggest children’s and teen’s book publishing company in the world. They wanna publish your bo—“
“WHAT!!?! DADDY!! DADDY! REALLY!?!” She didn’t even let it get out of his mouth before she had jumped into his arms, legs and hands wrapped around his frame. The two hugged and jumped and laughed and cried and danced. The moment was pure delight. Heaven on earth.
Ted hand’t been able to finish what he was trying to say because of each of their levels of exuberance. He finally blurted out, “Jordan they say they think it can be made into a whole series! It sounds like they want you to write BOOKS for them!! They want you to go on a book tour THIS FALL!”
The thirteen year old couldn’t help but jump in the air as her joy bubbled in her chest. She laughed and cried and stomped her feet and screamed and fell on the couch and kicked her feet until she felt tired with delight. Ted watched with pride and his own happiness.
It had truly been months or even years since Jordan had felt so free, loved, wanted, and open to the possibilities before her. Those moments were perhaps the most pleasure-filled so far in her young life. It was like a movie. Perfect.
I really did it! I really did it. I did it! I did it! I did it! I did it! She thought, laying down finally, flopping on the living room sofa. Glowing in her success and accomplishment.
But how am I gonna do a book tour with diapers?
--THE END--
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Sep 2, 2014 at 1:22 AM
Content: Thanks to everyone for your kindness. Much appreciated. Like I said, I really did have a good time writing it and as you may have deduced, it was helpful for me personally as in some broad respects, Jordan's story (as well as some of the characters actually) is my own. I want to write another story -- but probably in a different genre of literature and as such, you probably won't be able to connect this to that since I prefer for THIS writing to be anonymous HAHA
HokieABDL said:
I guess Daddy changing her is too intertwined into the plot to remove easily. Maybe the story stays in the ABDL community. That'll keep it here where we can enjoy it more. In terms of removing it, though, if you really want to ... I guess, maybe she admit to the desires to be changed, and father being very understanding, but feeling it inappropriate to entertain her infantilism as a play father,... But be willing to support her habit by getting her a baby/kiddie room or something. This is you, daughter, enjoy it as much as you want.
[End of quote]
These chapters were the ones I felt the MOST uncomfortable writing as well...and perhaps I was pushing it. I really tried to roll back on the descriptiveness of it and stick with the emotional reactions to everything going on -- but I agree, the act itself (as something not 'needed' by Jordan but requested) is kind of on the far out edge. Although, I can't help but notice that we didn't have as strong of objections about Sally agreeing to essentially the same thing once it came out in the story that Jordan could take care of her own diaper needs. Does that have to do with the fact that its opposite genders or just the fact that Ted's a MAN and in our culture, we tend to have quicker knee jerk judgments against men as sexual offenders? (ok, I know this could be opening up a can of worms...lol)
In any case, I'm in agreement with you. And for general consumption, it probably needs to go and become something like what you describe for realism sake...since so much of the rest of the story tries to not get carried too too far away by the fantasy ABDL story impulse. In all honesty though, I just don't think I could help it after holding back for so long. Jordan needed this She'd been tortured for so long!!!! I HATE sad endings. I knew it was gonna be at least somewhat bittersweet as the divorce was inevitable but at least this way, there could be happy feelings.
HokieABDL said:
Awesome stuff! This ABDL story I think still has the best chance of finding its way to a Barnes and Noble shelf near you.
[End of quote]
It'd be fun to try to adapt it somehow so that people could be gently introduced to how this thing (AB/DL) dawned on so many of us as teens and adolescents. If I did that, I'd want to edit out and smooth over the vast majority of the more descriptive diaper scenes. Of course none of them are sexual or whatever but they're all pretty over the top in terms of vividness -- and that's for the sake of this audience. In fact, I'd like to share this with my wife at some point -- but couldn't dream of it until that work was done. It's just a little too raw at this point. I'd worry she'd think I'm some kind of creeper or something. :/
ICkaraokegirl said:
:iagree: I'm going to agree with Hokie; this is one great story. Easily one of the finest of all time. Super work. <I'm sort of sad it's over.>
[End of quote]
KatherineB said:
WOW! Just WOW! Great story. The best ever! You took us into the pit of hell emotionally and back up again, like no other writer could do. I actually cried my eyes out.
[End of quote]
Thank you very much I'm sad it's over too. I've spent time working on it pretty much every Saturday afternoon (and then some) since April.
Believe it or not, I didn't cry until I was typing the last few paragraphs. The scene that got me was Jordan and her Dad celebrating the phone call from the publisher. Her indescribable joy and peace was just amazing to me. I actually can't even remember crying many times in reading a book or story before...a few of course...but not many. But that was the point. It was beautiful.
Glad it touched you too!!!
Perhaps I'll work on a sequel in a few months or a year...
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Author: storywriter
Timestamp: Nov 17, 2014 at 3:05 AM
Content: Hi all, sorry for the huge bump. I haven't logged in in a long time
A couple people asked questions so I though I'd throw out what I have...
Like I said, I've been working on another big-kid project that actually would be of great use to the majority of us with this fetish...but in the interest of continued anonymity, I need to keep it private.
Thank you for the well wishes and I certainly haven't given up on the idea of making a publishable version...It would be something I might be willing to share with my partner as well in that case... Thanks for the suggestions on characters and ending too -- in a way, I just wanted the thing to be over once I got right down to it and so It might've been a little less thought through than other parts. Maybe I'll do some more thinking on the edit.
Anyways, SnowballFox asked about Length...
SnowballFox said:
Now I'm just wondering... How long (Words/pages/whatever) is it? It must be really long, I've literally spent the last 12+ hours just reading it...
Snowball
[End of quote]
The total wordcount is 170,000 words (with most chapters running somewhere in the 3000-3500 range)
Most trade paperbacks average about 300 words per page so this would end up being a 560 page paperback book or so. Nice length haha.
Be well!!