Black Friday Part 1

Whatever it’s origins, the Thanksgiving holiday as celebrated by the Miller family is about togetherness, about a whole day spent in one another’s company; a day when everyone is in one place, four generations under one roof celebrating their love for one another and giving thanks for their blessings. And this year, the family welcomed Sadie, newly wed and newly wet, waking up in her husband’s childhood bed the day after Thanksgiving.

She wasn’t surprised; it had been a long courtship, and Sadie knew all about Reilly’s bed wetting almost from the start.

“Rei,” she nudged said as she nudged him, “Rei, wake up. You wet … Come on. Up.”

Rei groaned and mumbled something, never a morning person.

“Reilly,” she said, shaking his shoulder, “up.”

“Nuh.”

“Reilly Miller, you can’t just lay in it.” Though Reilly could just lay in it; after all, they’d been laying in it since Reilly did it, whenever that was. He usually wet multiple times a night.

“Yeah I can,” Reilly mumbled and rolled over.

It wasn’t the bed wetting; she accepted he couldn’t help that. No, it was the helplessness as he laid there in his own piddle that frustrated her. And why? Because he was hungover. Sadie had admonished him quietly the night before to take it easy on the wine, but he’d gotten drunk anyway. Not sloppy drunk; not ugly or mean drunk or inappropriately drunk. Just happy drunk. She didn’t even mind if he got drunk. But she did mind that he’d resisted her entreaty before they left home that he needed to pack some of his bedtime diapers.

“I only wet a couple times a week at most,” he’d reasoned.

“More like four and sometimes five and always after you drink. Every single time. You’re telling me you’re not going to have any wine with dinner, Mr. Oenophile?”

“I’ll take it easy,” he assured her.

“And just chance it otherwise? We’re there four nights.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she said skeptically. Well, more than skeptically. But she didn’t want to nag, too much a stereotype of the newly married wife becoming a nag as soon as the rings were in their fingers as she set about bullying him into changing all his habits she didn’t like. She hated that trope and didn’t want to personify it. That trope, though, never included sitting in pee emanating from a husband who wouldn’t get out of the bed he’d wet.

“Reilly,” she said almost sternly, sitting on the wet mattress in her wet pajamas, “get your butt out of bed, strip the sheets, take them to the wash, and do it by the time I’m out of the shower. We’ll find some time to sneak away and get some diapers today, and don’t argue with me about it.”

She didn’t want to be a nag, and she didnt. That wasn’t nagging. That was telling.

He rolled back over and looked at her. “My family might see.”

“They definitely will if you wait until everyone is awake.”

He stared into the middle distance for a moment as thought debating or imagining something. “Can I change my pajamas first,” he asked.

She looked at him quizzically. “Of course; they’re going in the wash too. You’re taking mine also.” She pivoted off the bed and started undressing. Just her right side was wet, the side of the bed he sleeps on. A diaper leak is a rarity but not unheard of; it has been a long time since he’d gone undiapered.

It took only a few times when they were first sleeping together before she put her foot down. Dating a bedwetter didn’t bother her; she didn’t like him any less because of it; but waking up wet and the fragrance her own pajamas were taking on no matter how well she washed them did bother her. So did the crinkling sound of his plastic mattress cover when they made love on his bed, and so did not being able to spend the night with him at her apartment. She certainly was bring putting a waterproof sheet on her own mattress.

She’d broached the subject gently the first time, floating the idea of diapers. Two weeks later it became a suggestion. Two more weeks, and she did her research and bought a package online, bringing it to his apartment like a present and trying to get him excited about waking up in a dry bed. She tried cajoling. She tried trading a promise of doing that thing he liked.

And then she put her foot down. He’d wore them to bed every time she slept over or he slept at her place, and every single night since they moved in together. It was only because they were spending the holiday with his family that she didn’t insist on bringing his padding along for Thanksgiving. His family, his childhood home, his decision, she decided.

As she slipped on her robe, she told him, “I’m not mad, honey. I’m just frustrated you didn’t listen to me. I thought we were way past this being a big deal.”

He was balling the sheets up trying to hide the wet part and exposing the rubber sheet. He took off his pajama top and used it to give the sheet a preliminary wipe-down. The sheet reminded her he’d never been totally dry at night, but she hadn’t expected it to be so well used. Overlapping yellowed rings, faded but not gone, testified to how much action it had seen. She’d have replaced it, but then again, no one slept in the bed anymore except when he came home for the holidays.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Over and done with; we won’t make that mistake twice. Let’s not let it ruin our day.” She didn’t notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and assumed his nervous demeanor was just embarrassment. He should be embarrassed, she thought, not because he wet but because he didn’t exercise good judgement - though whether anything so obvious can even be considered good rather than below average judgement is debatable.

“Sweetie, don’t put on clean pajamas,” she told him as he opened his dresser drawer. “You have pee on you. Just put on your robe.”

He did. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be quick in the shower,” she said, and before he could disappear around the corner into the hallway, she added, “run the washer on cold.” Last thing she needed after waking up wet was to have a cold shower.

Reilly got his diapers online. Sadie knew finding good diapers in stores is nearly impossible; maybe at a brick-and-mortar medical supply store, but even those are rare in the internet age. But it was only for two nights; they didn’t need to be great diapers, only good enough. She’d never heard of anyone wearing two at once, but perhaps he could do that. Or maybe she could wake him for a middle-of-the-night change; he was too deep a sleeper, hardly ever waking up at night.

In the shower, she contemplated where they’d find diapers for him for the next two nights and wished she’d packed a few in her own suitcase just in case, but it felt too much like packing her husband a diaper bag, and she didn’t want it to come off as not trusting him keep an I-told-you-so. He was sensitive enough about his diapers to begin with.

She dried herself off, brushed her teeth, and got ready for the day. It was early, but not too early to be up. Fortunately for Reilly, that meant less chance of others being up and surmising why he was washing sheets before eight in the morning. His two sisters and his step-brother were in the house, two older and one younger. Surely they knew Reilly was a bed wetter growing up, and though she’d never asked, she thought he had let them all believe the problem was behind him. She could understand his nervousness at the truth coming out and hoped no one was up or would notice later his sheets were in the wash. Maybe we can just tell them we had wet, hot newlywed sex and needed to wash the sheets, she joked to herself.

Slipping back into her robe, she tiptoed back across the hall to his bedroom. He was sitting on the bed waiting. “All yours,” she told him. “Better get in now before people wake up and til have to compete for the bathroom.” He stood without saying anything. He’d been acting so out of character since waking up, like he was embarrassed by something he’d long ago stop being embarrassed about in front of her. He even let her change him into his diapers sometimes, and sometimes even let her change him out of them in the morning, which she did when she wanted to be affectionate and remind him how much she cared for him.

“Hey,” she said as he was about to walk past her, “everything is okay. Not a big deal worth getting in a funk about. Please don’t let this ruin your day.” She gave him a quick kiss and sent him to the shower with a pat on the butt.

Sadie got dressed. They were planning to go shopping after breakfast with his sisters and mom; maybe in a few years he’d beg off, but still a newlywed, he was willing to go along and have a good time even if he didn’t like shopping. They’d be shopping outside at a Christmas market and later at an outlet mall. She wore a pair of tights under her jeans and a cashmere sweater to stay warm. I’ll get him an adult hot chocolate and a big cookie and he’ll be content at least until lunchtime, she thought as she got dressed. She knew he was going only because she wanted to spend the day with him and he with her and wanted to make it as enjoyable as possible for him. For his sake, but also for hers. A happy hubby would make it easier to shop longer; a bored, grumpy hubby would last at most until one before getting restless, sapping some of everyone’s fun even if he didn’t mean to.

There was a knock at the door. She opened it just a little to find Reilly’s step-mother Miriam standing there smiling apologetically. “Good morning. Can I come in,” she said quietly.

“You’re up awfully early,” Sadie answered, matching her volume and stepping aside.

“I’m still an early riser,” she said, closing the door behind her. “And I heard the washer.” She said it knowingly, like she and Sadie shared a secret.

“Heh. Yeah, that. No biggie, though. I’ll wipe the mattress cover down before we put the sheets back on.”

“Sorry you have to sleep on that.”

“We have one at home; I’m used to it.” Thought the one at home was a different material, breathable and silent.

“I’m so glad he found you. I was worried he’d have a hard time finding someone okay with his wetting.”

Sadie smiled, her eyes tracking up for a moment as though remembering something. “I love your step-son to pieces. An accident every now and then doesn’t change all the things about him I love; even when he first told me, it didn’t faze me. I already liked him too much.”

Miriam opened the closet and shifted a few things around. Sadie didn’t have anything in there, and it wasn’t her home, but it still seemed intrusive. “I don’t know what’s keeping Reilly,” she said. “He doesn’t usually dawdle in the shower.”

“He’s delaying his spanking,” his step-mother replied as she emerged from the closet holding a diaper and a hairbrush.