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Because You Asked for It - Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2019-07-05 22:11:59 +0000 UTC
Chapter 14. Kate
“Thank so much for having us over, Kate,” my mom, Karen, said to me as we sat on our deck. “It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.”
“I know … and we always say we should do this more often.”
“I like having all three of my daughters together in one place.”
“Me, too,” I said before turning to Jordy, who was at the grill. “Sure you don’t need any help, Jordy?”
“I think I got it,” he said over his shoulder. I felt a little sorry for him. We were having this dinner specifically so we could get Jordan’s new undie issue out into the open all at once, at least with my family. I couldn’t imagine the butterflies he must’ve had in his tummy. It looked like he was doing his best to not squirm in nervousness as he stood there. I knew the grill didn’t need his constant attention, and I would’ve popped his little butt for being rude to our guest, but I knew he was being shy, not rude. My cute little guy.
“Hey,” I heard my sister Kelsey say as she came around the corner of our side yard with her husband, Brian.
“Hi,” I said back. I gave her a hug and took a bowl of pasta salad from Brian. “I’ll take this inside. Either of you want a beer?”
“What’s on the table,” Brian asked, pointing to the pitcher.
“Gin and tonic. Ice is in the bucket.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Jordy, say ‘hi’,” I reminded him. I was sure he could manage that even if he was feeling shy. Kelsey followed me inside.
“Wow,” she said as she looked around at the kitchen and stuck her head around the corner into the living room. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble just for family.”
“What trouble?”
“Everything is so clean. You hire a maid with that big raise you got?”
“Actually, we’ve cut back on things since Jordy started freelancing. And one of his jobs is to keep the house clean now.”
“Send him over to my house next week,” my sister quipped. The doorbell rang. “Must be Liz.”
I went to open the door, and I gave my little sister a hug with one arm as she balanced a pie on her other arm. Liz appointed herself in charge of dessert at some point in our holiday past, and no one has ever attempted a coup since. “Apple,” I asked hopefully.
“Yep. Why does everything look different? Did you get new carpet?”
“Jordy rented a steam cleaner to do the carpet Thursday. How’s school?” Liz is eight years younger than me and had opted to go back to school to finish her doctorate. She was a full-time student living on a pittance of a stipend for being a teaching assistant.
“Ask me in a month.”
“Your comps? How do you feel about that?”
“Like the entire process is a draconian sufferfest that grad programs continue to inflict only because all the professors had to do it, and making us miserable is their chance to purge the trauma.”
“You’ve been saving that?”
“I’ve had many opportunities to rehearse it for the past year. Are we serving hard liquor tonight?”
“Pitcher of G&T on the deck.” Liz nodded as she set the pie on the counter and walked outside with Kelsey, whispering something to her. I followed. Brian was standing next to Jordy at the grilled, drink in hand and looking like he was trying very hard to make small talk. The two of them don’t have much in common. Jordy is a writer; Brian is an engineer. Jordy reads classics; Brian reads magazines. Jordy likes to hike and swim; Brian likes to watch sports and tailgate. Jordy is short, slim, quiet, and reserved; Brian is tall, thick, and gregarious. I’ve always liked Brian, but I also get tired of him sometimes. He can be a bit much with the testosterone sometimes, but the important thing is my sister loves him, and he makes her happy.
“So what’s it like to not be working,” I heard Brian ask Jordy.
Before he could answer, I answered for him, “Jordan works every day.”
“I know … I just meant …”
“I know what you meant,” Jordan said. “I like it better. I set my own schedule, I get more done, and I feel a lot healthier.” I’m not sure, but when Brian first learned Jordan was going to freelance I think I caught a hint of some condescension, like Brian thought less of Jordan for quitting the rat race, and maybe even for having the mental health issues in the first place. I think Kelsey must’ve said something about that to him, because I never did and certainly Jordy never did. I didn’t want to make a thing of it, and Jordy wouldn’t have wanted me to, so I never asked her if she had, but it did make me a little leery of what I could confide in her. I thought there was an unspoken agreement between us that we could talk about each other’s husbands, and it would stay between us. Or maybe my suspicions are all ill-founded, and she never said a word.
“Good,” Brian said.
“What are you working on right now,” my mom asked him.
“I’m writing a piece on the student loan crisis and its connection to higher education reform. I have my doubts about it getting published, though, at least in its current form.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s not a top-5 list or about the newest superfood.” Jordy loves to write but hates the media’s superficial focus on just about everything. Shy or not, it’s one of those topics he can get rolling on, and lord knows I’ve heard his thoughts on the subject about a million and one times.
“How’s that meat coming,” I asked him, hoping to cut off that line of thought before it turned into a conversation.
“It’s coming. About a half hour.”
“Why don’t you two come sit down then.” I patted the chair next to mine. The backyard had been a major consideration of ours when we were shopping for a home. We both wanted a lot of space, and the large deck was great for entertaining. Not that we entertained much – hardly at all, really – but I liked the idea that we could if we wanted to, and the yard itself was large and flat. I dislike yardwork but like gardening, and I thought about perhaps adding more decorative landscaping. As I sat there, I considered the ethics of making it one of Jordy’s chores.
He’d done so well with his chores so far. When I found him, he was one of the messiest bachelors I’d ever known, and his tolerance for a messy house, and especially a dirty kitchen and bathroom, would have been impressive were it not so gross. I thought by now I’d have had to discipline him for neglecting his chores, but it was almost two weeks into our new routine, and he was doing well, as evidenced by the compliments I’d gotten.
“Liz and Kelsey both noticed what a nice job you’ve done with the house,” I told him. I wanted him to feel proud.
“Did you remodel something,” Brian asked.
“No, he’s just been keeping it very clean,” I replied.
“Oh.” Brian didn’t seem impressed.
“How did you get him to clean,” Kelsey asked.
“I have a lot more time now,” Jordan said for himself, “I just do it.” I’d have called him out for being a fibber if he wasn’t already having a trying day.
“It’s very nicely done,” my mom told him. I think she always preferred Jordan to Brian.
“Thank you,” Jordan said. I looked at Jordan expectantly now. We had discussed the best time to deliver the news, and we agreed before dinner was better. We could get it out of the way, and then we’d serve the food, and we could move on to more pleasant topics. I wanted him to be the one to tell them, as I still didn’t want to be in charge of anything relating to his diapers, including handling appearances with others, but he’d practically begged me to tell them for him, and I didn’t have the heart to say no. He surreptitiously nodded to me and poured himself a second, or perhaps third, drink. I wasn’t keeping count for him. Also not something I wanted to be in charge of.
“The reason we wanted you call to come over this evening is we have some news,” I begand
“You’re pregnant,” Kelsey almost shouted. She was smiling ear to ear. She’d left her own kids with a babysitter, and despite having told her many, many times over the years that Jordan and I wouldn’t be having kids, she always dreamed of cousins for her kids to play with. Don’t get me wrong – I loved my niece and nephew to death – but raising kids is not for us. Kelsey would just have to wait until Liz had kids. Liz looked at Kelsey like she was bored by Kelsey’s surrogate baby fever, and Mom looked at me trying to suppress a smile in the obvious hope Kelsey was right.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not. I …” I took a breath and reached over to take Jordy’s hand. “Jordy and I wanted to tell you about some not at all serious medical news.” Still with that preface, suddenly everyone looked worried. “It’s not a big deal – at all – but we wanted to tell you so that if it ever came up, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Jordy was blushing and staring at his own lap.
“Jordan has had some continence issues for a long time now, and the problem is progressing, and Jordan decided the best way for him to handle it is with adult incontinence briefs. We wanted everyone to know just in case you ever saw them by accident.”
I paused and quickly surveyed the faces around the table. Kelsey looked concerned. Liz looked like the news bounced off her – her standard M.O. and under the circumstance, I thought a pretty healthy response. Brian looked like he was pitying Jordan, which bugged me because whether I had just lied like a liar, I didn’t care for the implication that my husband needed to be pitied. I was proud of his choice, both the one he actually made to be happier and the fake one we were explaining to them.
Mom reached over and took Jordan by his other wrist, trying to soothe him by rubbing her thumb across the top of his hand. “I’m sorry, Jordy,” she said.
“So,” I replied, “if you have any questions, let’s get them out of the way, and then we can have a have a nice, normal dinner.”
“Are the doctors hopeful of finding a solution,” my mom asked. I’d told Jordan he’d have to answer most of the questions himself.
“No, uh, they’re not sure what the underlying problem is, but it all started when I was in an accident in college, and they think it’s just getting worse as I get older.”
“But you’re not old,” Kelsey said.
“No,” I said, “But not everyone with this problem is old, and not everyone who is old has this problem.”
“And they’re sure it’s not tied to something more serious,” Mom asked.
“They’re sure, Karen. Thanks for, for being so concerned, but it’s not a big deal, really.”
“Is that why you quit work,” Brian asked.
“No. One has nothing to do with the other,” I said.
“A ‘brief’ is a diaper, right,” he asked. Kelsey, Mom, and Liz all gave him a dirty look.
“Yes, and we’re fine with that term,” I said, “Aren’t we, Jordy.”
“Y-y-yes,” he stuttered.
“Like I said, this isn’t a big deal, and we’re not gonna treat it like one. Jordy just wears a different kind of underwear than before.”
“So right now …” Brian asked without finishing the sentence.
“Yes,” I said. I don’t think Brian is deliberately obtuse, but he was obviously not picking up on Jordy’s body language or his red face or his tone or his stutter, which Brian at least should have known, after all those years, is something Jordy only does when he’s anxious. Regardless, right then, if he were my husband, I’d be taking him inside for the paddling of a lifetime and then an early bedtime without supper.
My Mom then asked, “Have you tried other things? I see commercial on TV for catheters.” She did, because she watches cable news, and apparently a lot of people who watch cable news need catheters.
“Yes,” Jordy lied, “And I found them too uncomfortable.”
“And they cause UTIs,” I added. Brian wouldn’t know how those felt, but all the women around the table did.
“What about … I don’t know what they call them,” Kelsey said, “catheters you wear on the outside? My friend told me about those when she was taking care of her dad. That … doesn’t that …” She was trying to find the right words. “Wouldn’t that be less embarrassing,” she asked.
“Could you tell what he was wearing when you got here,” I asked. I was starting to feel a bit defensive, and even though we’d agreed Jordy would lead on answering questions, in the moment, as he had been blushing for four straight minutes, I felt protective, I guess. “I can’t tell most of the time, and I know. Plus, it’s only embarrassing because of the stigma other people attach, and they’re just wrong. I’m proud of Jordy for making a responsible and hard choice. That’s the most mature thing he could do.”
Later that night after everyone had gone home, I contemplated how having embarked on this lie, Jordy and I both internalized it so well that it didn’t feel like a lie, and this didn’t feel like a performance. I felt like a pretty good actor when I realized that’s what I’d been doing. Jordy was, in our minds, incontinent, and it was from that reality that we responded to their questions.
“Liz,” I said, “Do you have any questions?”
“How are you doing with it,” she asked Jordy. Let’s face it – whether it’s siblings or parents or children, we all have favorites. Liz is my favorite. She’s always been a sweet person, but right then, when it felt like Kelsey and Brian were pitying my husband and thinking about solutions to his problem based on their own bias about how awful a diaper must be, that Liz’s question was how Jordy felt about all this made me feel like I loved her just a little bit more than I had an hour ago.
Jordy closed his eyes and nodded his head a few times as he exhaled. “Really,” he said, “I’m okay. It’s the best thing for me. And it might not even be permanent.”
“What about a pad, or even pull-ups,” Kelsey asked.
“We’re aware of all the products out there,” I said, wanting to end the what-abouts, “and Jordan is most comfortable with this one, and I’m comfortable with whatever he says is best for him.”
She got the hint. We sat in silence for about twenty seconds until Mom ended the conversation with, “I bet that meat is almost done. Should we start getting the rest out of the fridge?”
I appreciated that, and I know Jordan did, too. Over the course of dinner and the rest of the evening, he got more talkative, helped along by another drink, and as we’d hoped, it turned into a normal dinner with my family. I did notice my mom and Kelsey both, and Brian, seeming to scrutinize Jordy’s butt, and it seemed Brian was a little less boisterous than usual, but if Jordy noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He got a hug from everyone but Brian – which Jordan wouldn’t have wanted anyway, just a solid handshake – as they left. Mom gave him an extra-long one.
“Thank you. That went well, I guess,” Jordy said to me once everyone had left. He hugged me, and I hugged him back and gave him a kiss. Standing up for him, sort of, gave me a little funny feeling in my tummy.
“I love you, Jordy, and so do they.” His cheeks looked flushed. “I think you drank too much, babe.”
“I was nervous.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Like I drank too much.”
“Why don’t you head upstairs, and I’ll clean up most of it. We can finish the rest tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” He kissed me. “I’ll see you upstairs soon?”
“Yeah.” He started up the stairs, holding the railing as he went and wobbling a bit. “And change your diaper,” I called after him. I don’t know why. Of course he would. He always did before before bed.
On an impulse I still don’t understand, I washed two plates and then headed upstairs, gently knocking on the bathroom door and saying, “Do you need help?”
There was a pause before Jordan answered, “No. I got it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure … thank you, though.”
“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen if you do.”
Those terry-lined plastic panties sure came in handy that night. He was one leaky boy, or that was one leaky diaper, or both.
