Monday, October 23, 2017

MORE SUMMER HEAT... lots of it (Part 162l)

MORE SUMMER HEAT… lots of it (Part 162l)

It was obvious she was embarrassed. She got to the bottom step but wouldn’t turn to look at me. I told her I’d meet her in the den and took the long way around to get there. She was standing in the middle of the room and looking down at her feet. Still walking into the room I suggested she take a seat on the sofa. I remember her shuffling her feet and inching back until the back of her legs touched it and then she sort of flopped down. I went over and sat on my recliner and can remember sitting back in it before speaking trying to put her somewhat at ease. I still didn’t have a plan but, first of all, knew I had to do what I’d preached to Elle… not be a parent to her.

It took a few seconds before I got some words out and I’m not sure what the exact ones were. However, I asked a somewhat rhetorical question wanting to know what her mother would’ve thought if it had been she who walked into the bathroom. That got her to look up. Her eyes were wide open and she almost spit out the words “She’d ground me!” There was a look of panic on her face and I, picking up on it, stated that I would not say anything about it to either of her parents. However, the look of panic didn’t disappear. I really did feel sorry for her because I’d seen her mother go off on her sister, Mo, a couple of times. I repeated that neither I nor Elle would say anything and that simple statement brought forth another mini panic attack. I’m not sure what her words were but it was along the lines of questioning the fact that I’d even speak to Elle about it.

I remember trying to calm her down by telling her that we both thought very highly of her and assuring her that I didn’t think any less of her after seeing what I’d seen. Sometimes I don’t know when to shut up and after going on some more thought it might have been one of those times. I told her that she hadn’t done anything wrong… hadn’t hurt anyone or anything, but that her mother had had a conversation with Elle in which she’d indicated that she thought Barbara might be wetting on purpose. Talk about panic!

Barbara had been sitting on the sofa but not so far back on the seat that her back touched the cushions. When she heard me tell about the conversation she shot forward enough to make me think she’d fall off. She wanted to know when it had taken place and if anything else had been said. All I had to go on was what Elle had passed on to me and she hadn’t mentioned anything else Phyllis had said. I told her it had been before they moved out of the house and that I didn’t know if anything more had ever been mentioned. Barbara was beside herself and I didn’t know what to say or do to calm her down other than to repeat that she’d really done nothing wrong. I tried to assure her that if her mother had been really concerned she would’ve taken it up with her and encouraged her to try and calm down. I remember her sort of sitting back a bit and then watching some of the tension drain from her face. I was not prepared for her to ask if I really meant it when I said I’d not say anything. I could see she was vulnerable at that point and I could’ve taken advantage of the situation but didn’t. I sat there looking straight into her eyes and could see from the look in them that she was pleading with me to reinforce what I’d told her earlier. I don’t know how long I sat looking at her without speaking but finally told her it was a promise. (I probably made a cross over my heart to validate it.) I was about to tell her that I wanted to take her to show her the creek water around her new house and as we both stood up there was one thing that came to mind before we left.

Elle and I had discussed our thoughts on her night time wetting and wondering if it was truly a ‘condition’ or if Barbara was using it to have an excuse to be wet for ‘playing’. I quickly debated the thought of asking her about it… wondering that if I did would it be considered taking advantage of her. We got to the kitchen and I stopped, turned to her and asked if she’d answer one very personal question for me. I think she was still in a bit of shock that I’d promised not to say anything and, because of it, quickly said “Yes.” The exact words I used are long gone but, simply put, wanted to know if her bedwetting was real. As before, I promised not to say anything to anybody but Elle. Her faced was flushed again but not anywhere near as much as it had been earlier. Standing in front of the open kitchen door she proceeded to give me her wetting history.

Not to belabor a point but I found it interesting because I had no personal knowledge of bedwetting. She stood there telling me that she’d suffered with it as far back as she could remember. She told me her mother punished and shamed her until she was about eight years old. She then went to a specialist who, according to Barbara, was a waste of time.  Approaching her teen years it seemed to get better but that was when she pretty much stopped talking. I know I should’ve let the subject go at that point but didn’t. After a bit of hesitation and a ‘prod’ from me she went on to say, and I remember these exact words, “… something happened…”. I could clearly see she was now uncomfortable but I poked a little more by asking “to you?”. She looked at me and with a sheepish look on her face said something like “you could say that…” and then added “I found something…”. I never got a specific answer to my original question but got enough to feel comfortable that Elle’s and my thoughts on the matter had been right. With that it was time to go. Walking to the station wagon and sitting beside me she didn’t say a word. Now I was wondering what she was thinking.

She was really surprised to see the water almost all the way around her new house. I was almost positive that water had gotten into the basement through the sliding glass doors that faced the creek but I didn’t say anything to Barbara though. If there was water inside they were lucky that the movers hadn’t delivered their furniture when they were supposed to. We continued on to Elle’s mother’s only to find the electricity was back on. I could see the sump pump was now running as the basement water gushed from the discharge pipe. It reminded me I still had Big B’s boat to pump out. The rain had almost stopped but the wind was still 10 to 15 miles an hour. Elle wanted to get back to our house to try and get things somewhat back to normal. On the way I slowed to show her the water around Barbara’s house which served to remind me I would have some trouble getting to Big B’s boat when I came back.

Back at home there was one important thing to cover before I left. It was to communicate with Elle just what had transpired after I left her mother’s house earlier. Barbara had been much quieter than usual and Elle had picked up on it.The only thing was how was I going to do it with Barbara around. I took a somewhat bold step and suggested that she could help Elle out by getting some wash started since, with all the rain, it hadn’t been done for a few days. When asked Barbara didn’t say anything and headed for the cellar. Having done her own laundry any number of times she knew just what to do so I knew I didn’t have much time to get my point across before she returned but I knew I had to.

To be continued…

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