Andrea's Accident (Commission)

Written as a commission, I don't think this requires much foreknowledge. 

Andrea woke up before her alarm, rubbing at her eyes and stretching a bit. She felt cozy, warm, and drowsy, and snoozing a little longer seemed like a good idea. 

Rolling over in bed, she tried to get comfortable as the mattress squelched. 

Wait. Huh? 

Sitting up, she put a hand to the covers. They were dry enough, but beneath them, she felt the sheets and bed squish a little. 

Flipping up the bedding, she confirmed what she already knew. She’d wet the bed. 

“What the heck?” 

It was a fluke. It had to be. She hadn’t wet the bed since she was a small child. It was stress, or maybe something she ate. Resolving not to let it bother her, Andrea planned to get clean herself, get the laundry done, and put this whole situation behind her. 

Getting up, she walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and washed herself clean. 

She noticed the problem while she was towelling off. White, fluffy towels wicked away moisture from the shower, and as she wiped off the steam on the mirror with one hand and began wrapping the towel up around her hair, she noticed that some of it seemed more damp than it should have been. 

Glancing at the spot, she saw that it was wet, and stained yellow. She didn’t have to sniff the towel to know what it was. 

“No way…” she muttered, looking down. “I couldn’t have.” 

After a moment of observation, though, it was confirmed. She was dribbling. It was a slow, barely noticeable trickle on her already-damp skin, but the yellow droplets on her pale thighs were unmistakable. 

There was time to worry later. First, she had to do something about it. Ruining a towel wouldn’t do, and she couldn’t hold it against her crotch all day. For a few moments, though, it was all she had. 

Pressing the towel to her crotch, she waddled back to her bedroom, grabbing her phone from the nightstand. Looking up a number, she dialed, held it to her head, and waited. 

A prerecorded message played. “... after the beep.” 

BEEP.

“Hey, this is Andrea Pacelli, I’m a patient with your clinic. I’m having some, uh…” she looked down at the towel. “Bladder issues. I need a checkup. It’s urgent, today if possible. Thanks.”

Frowning, she hung up and considered her options. 

The first one seemed obvious. Pulling open a drawer on the nightstand, she took out one of her sanitary pads. 

Checking on the towel, she made a mental note of how wet it was, and then compared it to the pad. Doing the math, she guessed how long it would take before it was soaked totally through. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to work.” She’d burn through everything she had on hand before even getting to the doctor. 

Her next plan was to sit on the toilet and wait for the call, then head to the doctor with the pads on hand, but a bit of thought and a glance at her alarm clock proved that to be a bad idea. The doctor’s office didn’t open for another hour, for one. For another, she had no idea if they’d have an opening in the morning. 

Unless she wanted to wait on the toilet all day, that was a no-go. 

That really only left one option, at least that she could think of. 

Raising her phone, she swiped through the apps, getting to the grocery delivery service. For a moment, she hesitated. 

Do I care if the delivery driver sees? 

Shrugging, she said aloud, “It’s him or the cashier.” 

Scrolling through the pharmacy options, she found ‘Women’s Absorbent Undergarments’. Diapers, with a fancier name. 

Her finger floated over the display for a moment, kidding herself that she wouldn’t end up needing that sort of protection. Logically, she knew the truth; that she’d either have to wear diapers or end up with wet pants. Still, she was reluctant. 

After another thirty seconds of passive dribbling onto the towel, though, she made up her mind. “No point in pretending.” She added a pack to the cart, scrolled to payment options, and placed the order.