Epilogue

We were laughing as we both stumbled through the front door, each of us mutually supporting the other one. We were, to put it simply, not sober.

“Welcome home, Dr. Fairchild,” Vivian giggled as she gestured to the house.

“Why, thank you, Dr. Devereux,” I responded with faux-seriousness before breaking down into giggles.

And then Vivian was staring warmly into my face, her hands holding me by the front of my graduation robes. “I’m so proud of you, my little Lavender.”

I blushed deeply, “I couldn’t have done it without you, without your support and encouragement.”

“Bullshit,” Vivian said with a giggle, “come here, okay?” She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me farther into the house to the full-length mirror that hung in our front hall. She placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing the mirror with Vivian looking over my shoulder.

We looked gorgeous together. Vivian in a tight black dress with sheer tights and heels; me in my fancy doctoral regalia and silly little hat.

“Look at you,” her expression was full of pride and admiration, “you’re a doctor now, and you did that all yourself, because you’re brilliant. You got your doctorate because you deserved it; I was just honored enough to get to be along for the ride. But this accomplishment? It’s all you, darling.”

“Thank you,” I blushed under her praise. It had been a long, hard road, and whatever Vivian said, she had done more than just been along for the ride—she had been there to talk my ideas through, to give me confidence when mine began to flag, to make me coffee at eleven in the evening so I could keep working on my dissertation. It was my accomplishment, I was so proud of myself, and maybe I could have done it without Vivian, but I couldn’t have been happier that she had held my hand through it. “Thank you,” I said again, this time adding, “Miss Vivian.”

Vivian smiled mischievously and began unzipping my robe, exposing the black sundress I had on underneath. “You know what I kept thinking while I was watching you up on that stage?”

“What’s that?”

“I kept thinking,” Vivian’s hand crept downward, clutching the hem of my dress and slowly raising it, “how mature and professional you looked up there, and how you looked so cute playing dress-up and pretending to be a big girl in front of everyone.” She pulled the hem of my dress up to my waist, showing off the quite obviously soaked diaper underneath my fishnets. Vivian reached around with her other hand and grabbed the crotch of my diaper, squishing it against my skin. “I kept thinking how no one knew you were wearing a wet diaper the whole time.”

I bit my lip and leaned back in Vivian, “I wasn’t wet during the ceremony,” I whined…and lied.

“So, I didn’t have to change you in the family restroom afterwards?” I watched as my face turned bright red; Vivian just laughed. “Can you believe it?” She said more softly, resting her chin on my shoulder, “Dr. Lavender Fairchild, PhD, but still can’t be potty trained.”

“Don’t you know?” I said as I turned away from the mirror to face Vivian, “my PhD stands for ‘pees her diapers.””

Vivian laughed, then slipped her finger into my diaper, “you certainly do, you’re soaked.” She turned me towards the stairs and swatted my butt. “Come on, my little Lavender, let’s get you changed, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Vivian.”