Chapter Fourteen
“Vivian!” It was my turn to exclaim her name as I opened the front door of my apartment, “I’m so glad you agreed to let me host you tonight!”
“I’ll admit, I was curious to see where you live,” she replied as she looked around the small apartment.
“It’s not much,” I explained, “but it’s home, and since my roommate is out of town for the summer, I figured it would be nice to play hostess for once. May I offer you a drink? I’m afraid I don’t have the selection you do, but I have beer and wine and I make a mean rum and coke!” I was already beginning to regret this; there was a reason Vivian hosted aside from privacy. I was secretly hoping Vivian wouldn’t ask for the wine; I was suddenly embarrassed to serve her the cheap wine I had after spending weeks drinking her fancy wine.
“Well,” she replied with an amused grin, “I suppose I’ll have to try the house specialty, a rum and coke it is.”
“Great,” I smiled back and headed into the kitchen, “why don’t you take a seat on the couch, and I’ll be right over with drinks.”
As I set to making us both a rum and coke, Vivian began slowly walking towards the couch, taking in the apartment as she did. “So, you live here with Elyse?” Vivian knew Elyse, of course, but they didn’t work as closely as Vivian and I did—which is to say, their relationship was nothing more than most professor and student relationships. “How is that?”
“Pretty good,” I replied as I generously poured rum into two glasses, “I mean, you know, I’d rather have a place to myself, I like to have my privacy, but she’s a better roommate than the girl I lived with during my MA program…and a lot better than the roommates I had in undergrad.”
“Roommates can be…difficult,” Vivian empathized, “and I’m sure especially so when you’re as concerned about…privacy as I imagine you are. Have you had any problems with Elyse and your…privacy?”
It took me a moment to catch Vivian’s meaning, but I was glad I was looking away from her when I did—my face must have gone bright red.
Has Elyse discovered your wetting problem?
“Um, no,” I replied, dropping ice cubes into the glasses, “no problems there.”
“Good, good,” Vivian said as she finally settled down on the couch. “I have to admit, I worry sometimes, not everyone is as…understanding as I am. I’d hate to find out someone was making you feel bad about it or that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself.”
I was still blushing as I put the ice cube trays back and began pouring coke into the glasses. It wasn’t like Vivian to talk about my wetting problems so openly; I couldn’t help but wonder where it was coming from. And wanting to make sure I’m properly taking care of myself? What does she mean by that?
Make sure you wear your protection at night? Make sure you’re using the potty regularly during the day? Not spending too long in your wet padding in the morning? Maybe she’s noticed you come to breakfast in a wet pull-up and worries you do the same around Elyse.
Yeah, okay, maybe I’ve given her plenty of reasons to worry, but why is she bringing it up now?
“Well, um,” I said awkwardly as I walked into the living room and handed Vivian her glass, “thank you, I appreciate your concern.”
“Thank you, dear,” Vivian said as she took the glass from my hand and sipped it. “You were right, you do make a mean rum and coke, it’s very lovely.”
I beamed at the compliment. It was such a small and silly thing, but any kind of praise from Vivian made my heart flutter.
“So,” she said, changing the subject, “what’s for dinner?”
It was, once again, time for me to blush, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about my hosting choices. “Well,” I started nervously, “I spent all week trying to decide what to cook for you, but the truth is…I can’t…really cook, so…I thought we could order take-out? I know a really good Thai place…?”
Vivian grinned, “that sounds lovely, Lavender.” She took another sip of her drink and chuckled, “although, I suppose I’ll have to teach you to cook. Maybe next week, you can be my little kitchen helper, and I can teach you some cooking skills.”
Miss Vivian’s little kitchen helper!
It was all I could do to not show how excited I was about that prospect. “That sounds really lovely,” I said evenly, already fantasizing about trying to be a big girl and helping Miss Vivian in the kitchen.
Before long, we had ordered dinner. Despite that, as I mentioned multiple times, I was the one hosting her for dinner, Vivian insisted on paying, and all my protests did nothing to dissuade her from her decision. As I was placing the order, Vivian, rum and coke in hand, drifted over to my bookcases and began perusing them.
“You’ve got quite the collection here,” Vivian said as I finished putting in our order.
“Well, it’s nowhere near as large as yours,” I replied humbly, “and some of them are Elyse’s.”
“I’ve had a lot more time to collect them,” she countered, “but the quality of your collection is very good.”
“Thanks, but…it’s a pretty curated collection,” I admitted with a laugh, “I keep all my impressive academic books out here, and the trashy fantasy books in my room.”
Vivian turned and smiled at me, “may I?”
You can’t let her in your room, what if you left something out?
For a moment, panic built in my chest; had I left out any stuff that would hint at my proclivities? Had I left a pacifier out on my nightstand? Were all my onesies and other little clothes properly hidden? However, the panic dissipated almost as quickly as it formed. After all, I had been planning on Vivian spending the night in my bedroom; I had triple-checked to make sure everything was in order.
“Um, sure, this way,” still, I was nervous as I led Vivian into my bedroom. After all, I could make sure all my pull-ups, pacifiers, onesies, and other incriminating items were put away, but my bedroom still very much looked like that of a young adult still clinging to their childhood. Fairy lights and other purple string lights were my bedroom’s primary source of light, my desk was littered with small toys and Legos that I fidgeted with while I was working, and there were stuffed animals almost everywhere.
“Aww, and who is this?” Vivian asked as she immediately went to my bed and scooped up the plush otter that was waiting for me on my pillow. She managed to ask in a tone not dissimilar to the one you would use to ask a toddler about their stuffies without sounding like she was mocking me or being condescending.
“That’s Penelope,” I replied with a blush, gently taking her from Vivian—I didn’t like other people holding Penelope.
“She’s adorable,” Vivian handed her over to me with a smile before gently stroking my cheek, “just like you. Do you sleep with Penelope?”
I nodded but said nothing, suddenly uncomfortable with how Vivian’s words and demeanor were making me slip down into little space. I suppressed the urge to tell Vivian all about my stuffed animals and instead set Penelope back on the bed, “um, my bookshelves are just right there,” I re-directed.
“Sorry,” Vivian said as she sauntered over to the bookcases, “your bedroom is just so adorable, I couldn’t help it.”
“Oh, you’re fine, it’s just…”
It’s just that talking to you like that makes your brain go into toddler mode.
True, but I couldn’t say that.
“…well, thank you,” I said, unable to finish the thought I had started. “I’m glad you like it. I know it’s not quite what you’re used to, but I hope you’ll be comfortable sleeping in here,” I hadn’t been planning on addressing that matter just yet, but the opportunity seemed to be presenting itself.
“Oh,” Vivian said simply as she looked over the books on my shelf, “I took a Lyft here so I could just do the same home, no worries, darling.”
“Oh,” it was my turn to say, though mine was quite a bit more dejected than hers. She wasn’t willing to sleep with a bedwetter after all. I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed.
“But,” Vivian continued, clearly picking up on my crestfallen expression, “I can see that’s not quite what you were imagining.” Vivian sat down next to me and took one of my hands in both of hers. “Were you hoping I would stay with you?”
I nodded.
“Mm, I see,” Vivian said softly. “And you were hoping I’d sleep in here with you?”
I nodded again, trying not to indulge the tears I felt forming behind my eyes.
“Darling,” she said, pushing some stray hairs behind my ears, “why didn’t you just say so?”
I laughed weakly, feeling stupid, “this was me trying to say something,” I explained, “but I guess you don’t want to spend the night in the same bed as me.” Vivian opened her mouth to say something, but I plowed forward without giving her a chance, “I always sleep in the guest bed at your house, but I figured if we had dinner here, you’d have to sleep in the same bed as me, but I guess you just don’t want to spend the night in the same bed as me because of…the…you know…” I trailed off, still holding back my tears. I felt so dumb; I had ruined everything just because I couldn’t come clean and tell her I wasn’t a bedwetter when I still had a chance.
“Darling, sweetheart, my little Lavender,” Vivian said softly, lovingly, as she began rubbing my back when my little tirade was over, “that’s not the case at all. I want you to spend the night with me, too, I was just trying to…respect your privacy, that’s all.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, really!” Vivian laughed softly, “Really, truly. I’m sorry, Lavender, I shouldn’t have just assumed, but I did; I assumed you would be too embarrassed about your…well, your you know…”
I threw my arms around Vivian just as I felt a tear finally escape and roll down my cheek. “Spend the night with me?” I asked, “Spend the night in this bed with me? Please?”
“Of course, my little Lavender, I’d love to.”