Chapter Twenty-three

“Feeling better?” Vivian asked as I walked into the dining room where she was just beginning to set the table.

I nodded, “Thank you again,” I said quietly, “for…well, everything…”

Vivian set the last of the silverware in her hand on the table and looked up at me, “You are quite welcome, darling.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up a hand and continued before I could, “And before you say again,” she walked around the dining room table as she spoke, “there’s no need to be sorry.” She cupped my cheek with one hand and leaned in for a quick kiss, “or have I not made it abundantly clear just how little your…problem bothers me?”

“You have,” I admitted, “it’s just…”

Embarrassing? Shameful? Mortifying? Kinda hot?

All words I could use, but instead I just trailed off.

“I’m sure,” she said after it was obvious that I wasn’t going to finish—I couldn’t help but wonder what she seemed so certain I was going to say, “but all I can do is reassure you that this is a much bigger deal for you than it is for me. But, of course, if there is anything I can do to make this easier on you, then I would like to do that for you, okay?”

Does her being so supportive make this easier or harder?

Maybe both?

I smiled and nodded, “thank you, Vivian.”

“Quite welcome, my little Lavender. Now,” she let me cheek go and started walking towards the door that led into the kitchen, “I’ll go get our plates, why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?”

Once we were both seated with our plates in front of us, Vivian almost immediately launched into a long rant about her frustrations with grading undergrad papers over the past week, a topic I was all too happy to let dominate the meal. I contributed to the conversation where I could—sometimes commiserating based on my limited experience grading papers during my MA years, sometimes defending the poor undergrads based on my much more recent memories of what it was like to be an undergrad—but, mostly, I just listened and validated her frustrations. As an aspiring professor myself, it was almost like a window into what I had to look forward to once I finished my degree.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of meandering conversation that traveled from the dining room to the kitchen as we cleaned and finally to the parlor as we sat on the couch nursing glasses of wine. Perhaps the night seemed to pass by especially quick as we both agreed an early bedtime was in order so we could be up bright and early the next morning to make the drive to the lake house. It was only a few hours, but Vivian wanted to get there before noon. And so, before long, I found myself back in the bathroom going through my bedtime routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and otherwise preparing for bed.

About that time, I suddenly remember the conversation I had with Vivian on the phone earlier that day.

“It might be best if you bring some of your, ah…diapers for nighttime,” Vivian had said.

Did she mean for tonight too? Or just at the lake house?

I don’t know.

Is she expecting you to wear a diaper tonight?

I don’t know!

Well, are you going to?

I. Don’t. Know!

Wait, you can’t put it on yourself.

What? Why not?

Last time, at the apartment, you told her you had tried and couldn’t do it. If you do it yourself not, she’ll know you’ve been…practicing…

I mean, it would make sense that I have, right?

Maybe if she had told you she wanted you to wear diapers at night on this vacation like a week ago. How much practice could you have gotten in since this afternoon?

So…do I wait to see if she offers?

Oh, gods, what if she offers to put a diaper on you?

Fuck, what if she does?

It wasn’t like I hadn’t fantasized about that scenario numerous times, but the fantasy was far different from the reality of it. But as scary as it was, thinking about it made a pang of longing shudder through my body.

That’s what you want though, isn’t it?

Let’s just wait until she says something, okay?

With that decided, I took a deep breath, and left the bathroom.

I walked down the hallway to Vivian’s room, chewing my lip nervously the entire time. I was, once again, feeling rudderless and completely uncertain of what would come next.

“All ready for bed?” Vivian called from her en suite bathroom as I walked in.

“Yep,” I called back as I set my bag of toiletries next to the luggage in the corner of her room. “I just need to change into pajamas.”

“About that,” Vivian began as she walked out of the bathroom, my heart jumping up into my throat with anticipation, “I was thinking that…well…”

“I should wear a diaper to bed,” I blurted out—it took every once of willpower to not clap my hands over my mouth.

Oh fuck oh fuck why did you say that?!

I don’t know!

So much for waiting for her to bring it up.

She was about to!

And you did it first!

Vivian looked at me with a surprised expression on her face, blinked a few times, and nodded, “I was going to put it less bluntly, but…yes,” she gave me a warm smile. “I just thought it would be best to get used to it now since you’ll be wearing them to bed at the lake house, but, of course, it’s your decision, and I’ll respect any decision you make. In fact, if you decide you don’t want to wear the diapers at all, I’ll understand, and we can deal with any leaks that might happen.” Vivian rushed it all out in one breath,

I just nodded, unsure of how to proceed.

So, I guess this is it.

But it wasn’t; we both just stood there awkwardly for a long moment.

Is she waiting for you to go get changed?

Maybe, but…

But you’re waiting for her to offer to change you.

Finally, Vivian cleared her throat and spoke again, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to…” she paused, visibly choosing her next words, “…be so…amenable to the idea.”

I tried to push down the panic that was slowly but steadily rising inside me and forced a smile, “Yeah, I mean…you’re right, best to get used to it now, so…”

You’re still just standing there.

So is she!

I glanced back at my suitcases where both my pajamas and my diapers were hidden, then back at Vivian. “Um…”

Vivian’s eyes widened in surprise, “oh! You probably want some privacy, right?”

The exact opposite!

I bit my lip, steeled my nerve, and shook my head. I tried to speak, but no sound came out when I did. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say anyway.

“Or…” She began, then said nothing for an agonizingly long few seconds. “That is…if you’d like…I can…well,” I’d never seen Vivian this frazzled before, but it was clear she was nervous about this whole thing.

What’s she got to be nervous about?

Maybe she’s not really as okay with this as she says.

Vivan took a deep breath and visibly composed herself, “Sorry, I guess I’m a little nervous; I just don’t want to upset or embarrass you. But, I was thinking…it’s just that, last weekend you said you had tried them but couldn’t quite put them on yourself, right?”

I nodded.

“So, if you want…then I could…”

Say it, say it, please say it.

“…help you,” she finished at last.