I stared blankly at the array of figures and symbols on the page. Long division has me stumped. Instead I doodled on a piece of scrap paper with my pencil. I didn’t really even like drawing. I’m not that good at it, but it was something to keep my mind occupied until mommy returned.
I fidgeted in the wood-backed seat as my bladder began to announce that it was approaching the point of overflowing. I had set the portable toilet in the corner of the room, behind the couch and out of the line of sight from where our desk was situated. If I went to use the toilet, Elaine wouldn’t see me, but the pitter-patter of urine splattering in the plastic basin of the potty chair would create a visual impression as strong as if she was standing right next to me and watching me urinate.
If I wet my pull-up, Elaine wouldn’t have a clue, not until I have to ask mom to change me once she is done talking with daddy. Be embarrassed now or be embarrassed later? I chose to push the embarrassment off as long as I could, letting my bladder empty into the pull-up.
Pounding footsteps from the stairwell told me that both mommy and daddy were now coming upstairs, and the rapid pace suggested that they were in a rush.
“Elaine, come to our room, now,” daddy said sternly.
Wait. What? My sister is in trouble? Not me? They never use that tone with her. Elaine’s eyes went wide as she looked up at me from her math worksheet. I suppressed a grin. This was magnificent.
“Someone’s in trouble,” I whispered at Elaine as she hesitantly eased herself out of her seat.
The fact that she chose not to respond suggested that she was as apprehensive about the situation as I was. Elaine walked down the hallway and followed mommy and daddy around the corner. The bedroom door slammed shut. And then there was silence.