Bella's Accidents

A Holiday Interlude

The next eight days went by rather slowly, Bella thought, despite the bustle of holiday festivities. They were staying at her mother's parents' house, a large, chintzily-decorated dwelling in a suburb about thirty-five minutes from the airport. Each afternoon, Bella helped her grandmother (often with the aid of her mother and aunt as well) to prepare a tasty and elaborate dinner, and each evening she and her grandfather lit the menorah on the mantlepiece. She generally enjoyed her grandparents' company, and they in turn adored and doted on her, their only grandchild. Bella's aunt had never married or had kids, so she cherished Bella with a special affection, lavishing her with attention at every opportunity.

Cognizant as she was of the fact that she wasn't biologically related to any of them, Bella appreciated that her mom's relatives did everything in their power to prevent her from feeling like a black sheep. Being that as it may, however, the fact that Bella was the only young person on that entire side of the family rendered her the object of enormous attention and scrutiny whenever she and her parents visited, and the unceasing cascade of questions grew wearisome after awhile. Whenever she saw the opportunity to do so without seeming rude or antisocial, she retreated to the upstairs room where she was staying and buried her face into her book.

There was also the matter of her nighttime issue. As they were staying in her grandparents' house, there was little hope of hiding the fact that she had been compelled to start using disposable nighttime protection. Bella's mom had told them about her recent issue the first evening they had arrived, although she had not been in the room to hear it. Although her grandparents had the tact not to embarrass Bella by mentioning it to her, in her mind it was quite bad enough that they knew at all. Having always prided herself on her maturity and independence, and placing high value on acquiring the respect of her elders, she was mortified that her grandparents had now become aware of the fact that she, a thirteen year old, had begun regularly wetting the bed. At least my mom didn't tell them about my accident at school, or at my recital, or come to think of it on the plane ride here, Bella thought ruefully to herself.

Bella awoke each morning wet, as she had become used to doing, and carried her used pull-up as discretely as she could down the stairs and out the back door, depositing it into the outdoor trash bin that stood alongside the rear flank of her grandparents' house. On one embarrassing occasion, she had come face to face with her grandfather on her way down the stairs in the morning. Blushing furiously and quickly hiding her protection behind her back, Bella hurried past him without a word, and he was kind enough to act as though he hadn't noticed anything.

Otherwise, their time at her grandparents' passed mostly without incident. The only exception occurred on the third morning of their stay, when Bella overheard her mom talking to her sister about Bella's recent tribulations through the half-open kitchen door. Shocked and indignant that her mom would betray her confidence in this way, Bella quietly crept toward the door and listened as hard as she could. 

"Yeah, Bell's been having a bit of a rough time recently," she heard her mom telling her aunt. "It's not just during the evenings either. She's had a couple issues during the day as well – an accident at school, another at her last piano recital, even one on our trip to Hawaii this past summer."

"Oh, that poor dear," she heard her aunt's crooning, sympathetic voice. "She's always been such a strong girl though, and you two have raised her right. I'm sure she'll get through it okay."

"Me too," her mom said confidently. "Her doctor said it's only a phase, but I can just tell how embarrassing all of this is for her regardless. She had an accident on the flight over, you know. Fell back asleep and–"

Bella couldn't listen to any more. She was furious at her mother for talking about her behind her back like this. Telling grandma and grandpa about my nighttime situation is one thing – we're staying in their house after all – but why does she have to go blabbing about any of this stuff to her stupid sister? Embarrassing indeed, she thought, and all the more so, the more people know about it. What the heck is she thinking? Storming back upstairs and burying her nose in her book, Bella refused to say one word to her mom for the next several hours, and shot her sulky, fuming glances as they were helping her grandmother prepare dinner that afternoon.