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.