Chapter Text
After about 15 minutes, Emily’s stormy crying ends. She feels a little ridiculous. What has gotten into her?
Sitting up on her bed, she wipes her eyes and frowns. Usually she isn’t this silly about anything, and certainly not emotional. Could she be getting Spencer’s flu or something? Checking her own forehead for a fever, she feels nothing but her own warm skin, the same as it usually feels.
Just then, she hears footsteps on the stairs, and she quickly lies down again, staring stonily at the ceiling. There’s a soft knock on her door, and Mrs. Field’s voice comes through.
“Emily, I want to talk to you, please. Open the door.”
Emily sighs. She knows she deserves a stern talking-to, but . . . she doesn’t really want to open the door and have to confront her silly behaviour. She waits a minute, trying to decide what to do, when her mother knocks again, this time a little more firmly.
“Emily. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m not happy with your behaviour. Please open the door. Now.”
Emily knows that tone. Sighing again, she pushes herself off the bed, wincing at the cold feeling of her wet diaper against her skin, and opens the door. Her mother walks in, frowning.
“Spencer’s asleep on the couch, so I figured now was a good time to come up and see what is going on with you.” Mrs. Fields sits on the bed. “Come and sit down, please.”
Emily sits silently, not daring to disobey her mother again. She pulls her legs up underneath her and winces again, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Mrs. Fields. Her mother opens her mouth to scold Emily again, likely for not changing, and then just closes her mouth.
“Honey, do you need to be changed? It’s extremely unlike you not to clean up when you’ve had an accident.”
Emily had vowed to be mature and rational, the way she normally is, but she feels a sudden lump in her throat and tears pricking behind her eyes again. Looking carefully at her comforter, not trusting her voice, she nods.
Mrs. Fields’ voice is soft. “Lie down, then.”
It’s been at least two years since her mother has changed her. Emily trained quickly and insisted on doing everything herself, so the brief awkwardness of getting into position, raising her hips at the right moment, and everything else is strange at first. But Emily quickly gets back into the routine, and when her mother turns to get a fresh pair of panties out of her dresser drawer, Emily stops her.
“Mom . . . I think I want to wear a diaper.” Emily flushes bright red as she says this, refusing to look her mother in the eye. Mrs. Fields’ eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t say anything, simply moving to the bottom drawer and fishing out one of Emily’s old diapers.
The soft diaper feels good, and Mrs. Fields hisses a little under her breath before she tapes Emily into it. “I don’t know if we still have any of the zinc cream I used on you when you used to get diaper rashes. I might have to make do with Vaseline. You’re getting a little rash, sweetie. I don’t want it to get worse.”
Emily feels faintly surprised. A diaper rash? It makes sense, based on how long she had stubbornly sat in a wet diaper, but it feels strange to think of herself with one after so long. “I don’t know, Mom,” she says, not knowing what to say, and Mrs. Fields pats her leg.
“I’ll go and get some Vaseline. Stay there,” she says, a little unnecessarily, since Emily has no intention of moving. That’s when Emily realizes that this might be awkward for her mother, too.
After Emily’s rash is treated and she’s re-diapered, Mrs. Fields leaves again to wash her hands and Emily sits cross-legged on her bed, wondering what her punishment will be for being so mean to Spencer. She does feel badly about it . . . poor Spencer is sick, and it’s hardly her fault that her parents could really not care less about her. But it’s hard to watch her mother look after another girl, especially one that’s everything Emily isn’t always – affectionate, needy, and cuddly.
When Mrs. Fields comes back, she quietly closes the door behind her and joins Emily on the bed. There are no words for a few minutes, until Mrs. Fields puts her arms around her daughter.
“I can’t tell if you’re tired, sick, or just jealous – or maybe it’s a little of all three. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, sweetheart?”
And Emily starts to cry. This time, it’s not something she’s trying to hide or to stifle. She simply leans against her mom and sobs.
“Shh, sweetheart. Oh, Emily. Shh.” Her mother strokes Emily’s long dark hair and cuddles her close. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough day, baby.”
Emily doesn’t suck her thumb, and never did – she preferred to use a pacifier when she was younger – but she gave all those up when she transitioned from diapers to panties a year ago. This is the first time in a long time that she’s wanted one. Her mother watches Emily’s lips make an unconscious sucking motion and chuckles a little bit.
“I’m sorry that we don’t have any pacis, sweetie. But you kept saying you were too big, and I guess you really haven’t wanted one until now, anyway.” She rubs Emily’s back and snuggles her for a little while longer, until she hears Spencer begin to cough from downstairs.
“Anyway, I came up to talk to you about your behaviour, but I think it might be due to the fact that Spencer is here, hmm?”
Emily nods, feeling a bit sheepish, and definitely limp and warm and comfortable in her mother’s arms. “I know she’s sick, but . . . you’re my mom,” she murmurs, and Mrs. Fields kisses the top of her head.
“I’m always going to be your mom and no one else’s,” she reminds Emily. “But Spencer needs someone to look after her right now. She’s not as big as you are, and she’s very sick right now, too. I thought you understood that, and I think you do, but I guess I didn’t count on my big girl needing to be little sometimes, too.” She smiles down at Emily, and Emily smiles back, feeling embarrassed and understood and so, so happy.
Spencer coughs again, and this time there’s a whimper at the end of the cough. Emily detaches from her mother. “We’d better go downstairs and see how Spencer is,” she says, and her mother smiles, a hint of pride in her expression.
“Yes. I think we’d better. I left her down there all by herself. And Emily,” she calls to her daughter, just before Emily is about to open the bedroom door, “I think you owe Spencer an apology for your behaviour earlier.”
Emily blushes and nods. She’ll be surprised if Spencer wants to speak to her ever again after this. She looks uncertain and a bit nervous, and Mrs. Fields comes up beside her and takes her hand.
“I think Spencer knows you didn’t mean it,” she reassures Emily. “But I think you’d better tell her you didn’t, because she was pretty upset after you went upstairs.”
Emily feels badly then. Poor Spencer, first so sick and now thinking that her best friend hates her for being here. She slips down the stairs quietly, her bare feet making almost no noise on the stair runner, and comes into the living room where Spencer is sitting uncomfortably on the couch, a pout on her face and her water glass empty in front of her.
Spencer looks up at Emily’s entrance, and then her face closes, and she turns away from Emily. Emily sighs.
“Spence, I’m sorry. I was being a brat and you didn’t deserve it. I was jealous and stupid and I’m sorry that I was mean to you.” Emily’s voice starts out steady, but wobbles dangerously at the end, and Spencer looks up at her, her face less stony.
“I know that I’m taking up a lot of your mother’s time,” she says, her voice hoarse and raspy. “I really am sorry. I’d give anything to be home, Emily. I really would. I don’t know why my mother wouldn’t come home right away but she was mad at me, and I am really sorry I have to be here . . .” Spencer’s voice trails off and she starts to cry.
Emily comes and sits down beside Spencer, putting an arm around the shaking girl. “No. I’m sorry that I was mean about that. It’s not your fault. My mom doesn’t understand your parents, either. And we’re all happy to have you here. Even me. Even when I get jealous,” she insists, and Spencer laughs a little bit through her tears.
“I don’t want you to resent me,” she whispers, and Emily gives her a hug.
“I don’t. I was being stupid. I was tired and maybe coming down with your flu and there were other things . . .”
“Like you had an accident,” states Spencer bluntly, and looks slightly interested even as Emily blushes. “That’s really unlike you. I don’t think I ever remember you having an accident before.”
“Well, it sometimes happens,” replies Emily uncomfortably, and Spencer nods. They sit in silence for a moment, and Emily shifts a little. “I decided I’d better wear a diaper today.”
“Really?” Spencer doesn’t know what to do with this information, it seems, and shifts a little uncomfortably herself. “When’s the last time you wore one?”
“I was sick, about six months ago. I didn’t want to make a mess or anything.”
“Are you sure that you’re okay, Emily?” Spencer’s voice is abrupt. Emily blinks a little in surprise.
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, you don’t wear diapers. Ever. And you don’t throw tantrums, or say things like that . . . and I’m just wondering if my being here is causing you to regress or something. I mean, we know I regress all the time, so I can’t really talk, but you doing it is a bit weird.”
Mrs. Fields’ voice cuts in. “It is strange, Spencer, you’re right. And it is unlike Emily. But she’s an only child, and I think she might be a little bit jealous.” She comes over and sits beside the girls, and gathers her daughter to her. Emily accepts the affection without complaint, which is also strange to Spencer. Usually Emily struggles to get away from her mother’s hugs and kisses in front of her friends.
“And that’s okay, but what’s not okay is being mean to you. I’m sorry that the incident happened this afternoon, and I hope you girls can get along the rest of the time that Spencer is here.”
Emily nods quickly. “I won’t be mean again. I’m sorry, Spence.”
Spencer smiles a little bit. “It’s okay, Em. I get it now. I’m sorry I have to be here and take up all your mother’s time.”
With that, Mrs. Fields gives Emily a kiss and then gently detaches from her to go to Spencer. “I think you’re wet, sweetie, and I can see you need more water. Em, can you go to the kitchen and get Spencer some more water?”
Emily hops up happily. “Okay, Mom.”
//~//
The sun is beginning to set over the neighbourhood when Spencer, who is getting tired of lying on the couch and alternately watching Netflix and the front window, sees a car pull into her home’s driveway. Her dad gets out and starts to type the code for the gate, and Spencer heaves herself off the couch and shakily makes her way to the window to wave to him.
“Daddy!” she calls, though he won’t be able to hear her through the closed window. Fumbling her way back to the couch, she finds her cell phone and finds her dad’s number in her contact list.
He answers on the second ring. “Hi, Spence. I just got in.”
“I know, Daddy. Are you going to come over and get me?”
He sounds surprised. “I didn’t know you weren’t at home. Don’t tell me you’ve been imposing on the Fields family all day?”
Spencer bites her lip and replies, sounding a bit deflated. He hasn’t asked her how she feels or anything. “I’m really sick,” she tries to explain. “Mrs. Fields didn’t want me to go home by myself.”
“Well, Spence, the housekeeper is here. I think Elsa could have looked after you today while we were out. You didn’t need to spend all day over there, monopolizing Mrs. Fields’ time.” He sighs heavily. “Come on home now and I’ll make you a cup of tea, okay?”
Spencer’s eyes fill with tears at his annoyed, dismissive tone. “I don’t think I can walk that far,” she murmurs, and her father’s voice crackles over the line.
“What do you mean? It’s across the backyard, Spence, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your legs. Come on, champ. Time to buck up. You’re not broken. Come on back and I’ll tell you about the case I’m working on in Philly.”
With that, he hangs up.
Spencer starts to cry. She can’t walk across the lawn without falling at least once. She couldn’t even walk without Emily supporting her to the dining room for dinner (more chicken and rice soup, which she managed half a bowl of, and a piece of toast).
Emily wanders in. “Spence? What’s wrong?” She comes over to sit beside Spencer on the couch and gives her a hug.
“My dad’s home,” Spencer tries to explain through her tears. “He’s not happy I stayed over here all day. He wants me to come home.”
Emily rubs Spencer’s shoulders. “Okay, well, you wanted to go home all day, remember,” she reminds Spencer, who looks frustrated. “What’s really wrong?”
“He won’t come and get me. He told me to walk home. But I can’t, Emily, and I don’t want to ask your dad to carry me . . .”
Emily nods in understanding. “I’ll get my mom to call him. Just a sec, okay? Sit tight.”
But the conversation that Mrs. Fields has with Mr. Hastings doesn’t go well, either.
“Peter, she’s not well. I had to have Wayne carry her to our house this morning. I suspect she has the flu that’s going around right now . . . Well, I don’t think she’s able to walk home. No, I don’t think she’s playing it up, she’s very sick . . . Peter, please listen to me. I would really prefer if you or Veronica came over to get her. I am not comfortable having her walk across the lawn alone and in the dark, and I don’t want Emily out at this time either, she’s not feeling well herself . . . No, I’m afraid that Wayne isn’t available to take her back, either. I don’t feel like you’re hearing me . . . Peter, please!”
There’s a long silence, and then Mrs. Fields’s voice is stony. “I will walk her home, then. I must say, I’m a little surprised at you, Peter. She’s your daughter, for God’s sake. Yes. I’ll bring her now. Goodbye.”
Spencer covers her face with her hands, and Mrs. Fields sits down beside her and gives her a hug. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’m not sure why he’s being stubborn, but he says your mother is home now. They’re waiting for you. I’ll walk you home, okay?”
Emily quickly gets together a bag of diapers and Mrs. Fields puts a container of the chicken soup in the bag for Spencer. “Just in case your appetite comes back later tonight,” she says cheerily, and Spencer smiles. This family is so unlike her own. They actually . . . care.
Emily gives Spencer a hug goodbye at the door after Mrs. Fields changes Spencer and bundles her up against the early spring cold. “Give me a call when you get settled at home, okay?”
“Okay,” Spencer murmurs, and hugs Emily one more time before leaning on Mrs. Fields’ shoulder and walking out the front door of Emily’s home.
They manage to get to Spencer’s door, even though the very effort has Spencer shaking and sweating with effort. The walk is long and Spencer has to rest a few times. By the time her father opens the door, Spencer just wants to lie down and sleep forever. Her cough is harsh and hacking, and Mr. Hastings looks a little sheepish and concerned as Mrs. Fields helps Spencer to the couch beside her mother.
“Ah. I guess she really isn’t feeling well,” he says, his voice a bit tentative, and Mrs. Fields appears to barely restrain her contempt as she replies.
“No, she isn’t feeling well at all. She’s been very ill all night and most of today. I suspect she will be for a few more days. I gave her Advil Cold and Sinus for her fever about three hours ago, so she’s going to need it again soon. I’ve left the bottle in this bag. She had some dinner not too long ago, but I imagine she’ll be thirsty after her walk. I also changed her just before we came over, so unless something happened between now and then, she should be okay for a while, hey, Spence?”
Spencer wishes Mrs. Fields wouldn’t talk about the diapers in front of her parents. She barely nods, but tries to smile at Emily’s mother, anyway. “Thank you for looking after me, Mrs. Fields,” she says, her voice quiet, and Spencer’s mother speaks up, too.
“Yes, thank you. It was very good of you to take Spencer on today while we were away. Thank you for keeping her all day, though she really could have come home this afternoon, I think.”
“No, I think she was better where she was,” says Mrs. Fields, and then after winking at Spencer, leaves the house.
Spencer lies back against the couch pillows, her eyes closing in exhaustion. Her parents are going to ask a million questions, and she can’t stay awake for them. Her pale, sweaty face is illuminated in the light from the fire, and she feels her mother start to rub her feet.
“Peter, she is really sick. Just look at her.”
Spencer opens her eyes to see her dad crouch down beside her. “I’m sorry, champ. I guess we’ve been pretty hard on you. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you.”
Spencer just shrugs. She knows their apologies will be short-lived. But after a moment, she looks at her dad. “I don’t always try to get attention. I don’t try to, even most of the time. You seem to think I’m someone that’s awful and lying, and I don’t get it. I really don’t. I try so hard, you know.”
Her voice isn’t even emotional, which surprises Spencer. She’s just so tired that she doesn’t care anymore.
Mr. Hastings strokes back Spencer’s hair. “I think we just want you to do your best. Maybe we don’t always notice how hard you try.”
“We love you, Spence. We just want you to be the best you can be.” Mrs. Hastings adds.
“I know,” Spencer replies in the same emotionless voice. “And right now I just can’t talk about it anymore.” She looks at her mother. “I just want to go to sleep, Mom. I can’t make it to the bathroom, so please don’t ask me to try. Emily’s mother brought over some diapers. I know you’re going to hate it, but I just don’t care anymore.”
Mrs. Hastings looks a bit taken aback, and Mr. Hastings stands up, picking up his daughter in his arms easily. “I think we can shelve that conversation until you feel better, honey. Veronica, why don’t you go upstairs and get Spencer’s bed ready for her?”
Mrs. Hastings nods and climbs the stairs, Spencer’s father following her. Spencer hasn’t been carried by her father for about a year. It feels good to just lean against his shoulder and not have to worry about anything for now.
Melissa appears from her room as the family gets to the top of the stairs, but she doesn’t say anything after Mrs. Hastings shakes her head firmly. After Mr. Hastings places Spencer on her bed, he kisses her forehead and leaves the room.
Mrs. Hastings strokes Spencer’s hair. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well yesterday?”
“Because you were so mad at me,” says Spencer, emotion now creeping into her voice. “And I just didn’t feel like having another fight with you about everything. And I didn’t know I was going to get as sick as I did. Emily and her mom looked after me all night and today. We called and called, but you were busy and I guess meetings are more important.”
Mrs. Hastings looks upset, an emotion that Spencer has rarely seen on her face. “Of course they’re not. If I had known earlier, I could have rescheduled them and stayed home with you today.”
“Well, Mom, I don’t know that you would have wanted to. And I did want you,” Spencer’s voice cracks as she tries to explain. “I needed my mom. I threw up and I made a mess in my pants and I was really, really sick . . .” Spencer begins to cry.
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Hastings cuddles her daughter close. “I’m sorry.”
Spencer sniffles against her mother’s shoulder and starts to cough. At the same time, she realizes that her diaper is wet. This surprises her – usually she knows when she’s wetting.
“I’m here now,” says Mrs. Hastings, rubbing her daughter’s back in slow, soothing strokes. “Shh. It’s time for your medicine anyway, I think.”
“I’m wet,” says Spencer, not even caring if her mother will suddenly change her tune. “I’m wet, Mommy, and I’m thirsty, and I’m tired.” She leans back from her mother, and screws her fists into her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
“Okay, sweetie.” Mrs. Hastings lays her daughter down and rubs her tummy soothingly. “It’s okay.”
And for the first time, Spencer thinks that maybe, it just might be.