Story and Art Forum

“Look, loads of people wear them.” The father looked down at his soaked ten-year-old son and tried to explain. “Elite sportsmen, body builders, fishermen who spend the day wading waist deep in rivers, erm, gamers who can’t leave their screen (he hoped that reference was more appropriate), erm, soldiers who go into a scary hostile zone... astronauts... you get the idea. There are loads of situations where people wear protection... and wetting the bed is just another one of those times when it’s the quickest, and the best antidote to a problem.” He hoped this last attempt at getting his weeping and embarrassed son to accept his need to wear a nappy would make him less anxious. It wasn’t quite 11pm when the boy realised he’d soaked the bed and began to cry. This was all too much and although he knew crying wouldn’t help stop the flow, he was beside himself and ashamed. His father had heard his son in distress and went to see what the problem was. He was understanding and knew this was an accident but also knew the cause. But this hadn’t been the first time and he knew his father would only be sympathetic for so long unless he did something about it himself. “Okay.” The boy’s small but reluctant voice agreed. His father knew this was a big step for the lad and wanted to be as supportive as he could be but was also adamant that he didn’t want to keep going through this every night. He needed his son to accept the padding and be happy, well, if not happy, at least accept why he had to wear it. So, to this end he wanted his son to actually request a nappy. For some reason his father thought that once he’d asked for one, there could be no more arguments, worries or denials. His son would totally accept the situation and see how beneficial padded privates would be for future nights to prevent a soaked bed. There was no real escape, the boy was sat in soaked pyjamas and wet sheets. Since his mother had died earlier that year his nights had been quite troublesome, especially in getting up and making it to the toilet. However, this was the worst one, and although it had been happening bit by bit over some time, his father needed to act now to prevent anything worse. His dad knew the poor boy understood this, so it was just a matter of trying to make the transition as painless, and less embarrassing, as possible. “You’ll see, a nappy more often there to prevent embarrassment rather than cause it.” His dad hoped his pleasant and understanding tone would help. “But what about when it is embarrassing?” His unenthusiastic son challenged. “Why not focus on when it’s beneficial instead of when it’s not.” “But dad, that’s the point, that’s all I can think about.” “Well, just tell anyone who comments about it that you are following in the footsteps of astronauts, that should shut them up.” “What do you mean?” “Well, when astronauts are up at the space station and go outside checking equipment, they can’t just pop back for a pee.” His son giggled. “No, they have to wear a nappy and they pee in that. So, as you need a nappy for the same reason and can’t get to where you need to be... it’s just about the same thing.” Now his son was giggling madly at the idea and it looked like his father had won him over. “So, my little Starship Trooper, will you request a nappy from now on?  To boldly pee where no man as... actually that doesn’t work does it?” His son was still in hysterics but wouldn’t have got the reference as he was too young. Once the laughter had died down the boy felt a bit better about his situation and wanted to please his father and show him, he would cooperate as much as possible. “Dad, can I please wear protection?” His father was pleased his son had agreed. “Your wish is my command and so, let’s get you out of bed, washed up and into that lovely piece of fluffy dry material shall we.” He helped his son to his feet and told him to have a quick shower and that he’d be in shortly to help sort him out. Meanwhile, he stripped the bed and decided to put the heaters on to help dry the slightly damp mattress. He remembered how his wife had made sure he knew how to fold a nappy and how to apply it to their son when he was a baby. She’d also made sure he had kept his hand in when their boy had accidents as he grew up. Since her death there had been one or two small accidents, wet jammies or soaked underpants, but the problem had unfortunately been growing and this had been the worst case so far. His son had been having bad dreams and occasional nightmares, nearly all of them concerning his search for mum. Thankfully, dad had pre-planned to get some disposables ‘just in case’. He’d been so right to think ahead. He dried his son off then fitted him a huge but fuzzy disposable. They’d both chuckled at the applied cream, the cloud of powder and the noise as the tapes were rearranged for a better fit before finally sliding a pair of thick white vinyl pants over it all. “Okay buster that should keep you safe from a wet bed and alien attacks.” He said as he patted his son’s padded bottom. “Dad, can I sleep with you tonight?” “Of course, besides, your mattress is a little damp so not very nice to return to just yet. I’ll prop it against the radiator and hope that works. You’ll be in my bed until it’s all dry, okay?” His son was all smiles and rushed to his dad’s room and threw himself under the covers. His dad climbed in beside him and pulled him close. “Okay, no kicking, screaming, or snoring.” “Dad, I don’t snore.” He laughed. “I’m just warning you,” he slyly tickled his son’s ribs. “Any noise and it’s the bathtub for you.” His son was wriggling as his dad’s finger tickled his ribs some more and he tried to hold back his screams of delight. “Dad, daddy, please don’t...” He pleaded whilst laughing like a hyena. “Well, I think we’ve got rid of any excess noise now so we can get to sleep. Goodnight son.” “Night-night daddy, erm, dad.” “That’s okay son, tonight daddy’s here to look after you so, let’s snuggle down... I’ll be here to protect you... you have nothing to worry about.” “Thanks... daddy.” “Night son. Oh… and no Space walks please… if you have to go… please use the equipment provided.” He said patting his sons slippery padding. He cushioned his son in a gentle embrace and said a silent prayer hoping his angel of a wife approved of what he’d done. “You taught me well darling... and, under these boxers, I’m wearing protection as well because we both find it difficult without you.” Not quite a prayer but a heartfelt expression from a devoted husband. “Love you honey... and we miss you every minute of every day.” A sigh escaped into the night air but the dad knew they’d both be wet by morning. ####  

I love a good reality warper, especially when it all happens piecemeal. And this one was cute and horrifying.

Don't give up! After a couple months it's nice to see there is still hope...

Book 2 – Chapter 20: Pretty Good Starting Point   By the time Sally returned, dinner was winding down, but Mario took one look at her and somehow decided that what she needed was another hamburger. Sally did not argue. It was every bit as good as the first, which meant that when Ally lifted her camera again, Sally actually allowed it. Shamelessly. “Oh, this is going into a culinary reportage,” Ally sighed, focusing on Sally's expression of absolute pleasure as she took another bite. Sally finished chewing, wiped her mouth with her napkin and helped herself to a few more fries. “I might gain a couple of pounds on this yacht, but it'll be worth it.” Click. “In a good mood?” Ally teased. Sally frowned at her. “I'm on holiday. So yes, I'm in a good mood.” “Right.” Ally lowered the camera with a knowing smile. Sally ignored her. Eventually the last plates disappeared, the table was cleared, and the group began drifting apart. A few of the adults went back outside to enjoy the evening air while Leon migrated toward the television in the lounge, phone in hand. Sally was halfway through deciding whether she wanted to follow the others onto the deck when the enormous screen suddenly filled with the unmistakable sound of expensive engines. That got her attention. Leon had mirrored something from his phone onto the television: one of those glossy car-spotting videos assembled from street footage, revving engines and breathless close-ups of machines worth more than houses. Miami Beach. Sally stopped behind the sofa, arms folded. An orange Lamborghini Aventador SVJ rolled into view. Her lips pressed together. “Oh, no.” Leon leaned forward. The Lamborghini was cruising among a convoy of Ferraris and McLarens, their engines erupting every few seconds while the Aventador itself behaved rather more sensibly. There were several shots of it from different angles, enough to make clear that this had not been a chance glimpse from somebody standing on a sidewalk. Then the camera zoomed toward the driver. Sally Weiss. Ally had wandered over and now stood beside her. “Is that...?” Leon twisted around, eyebrows raised. “A friend from school sent this to me when he found out I was here with Sally Weiss.” Sally closed her eyes briefly. Of course he had. The video continued. The Lamborghini slowed beside the valet stand of an expensive-looking restaurant. The camera zoomed again. Definitely Sally Weiss. Then the scissor door rose and Sally stepped out. Thankfully, she thought, the movement looked reasonably graceful on camera. Adrian emerged from the passenger side a moment later. Sally handed the key over, tipped the valet and joined her father on the curb before the two of them disappeared into the restaurant. The video remained behind to admire the Lamborghini as the valet carefully positioned it at the front. Leon turned slowly. “You have a Lamborghini.” Sally gave him a thin smile. “Aventador SVJ. Yeah.” “How?” The question came with genuine disbelief. Even among families where private jets, yachts and houses in several countries weren't especially remarkable, there was something unusually conspicuous about a sixteen-year-old girl driving an orange Lamborghini around Miami Beach. Sally shrugged. “You can drive at sixteen in America.” “In a car like that?” “Any car.” She tried to make it sound less extraordinary than Leon apparently believed it was. Ally gave a soft laugh beside her. “Way to go, Weiss.” Leon was still staring. “How does a kid like you get a car like that?” Sally's eyebrows rose. “A kid like me?” “Trying to compete, Leon?” Ally teased. He barely acknowledged her. Sally waited. “It was a gift,” she finally said. Leon frowned. “From who?” Sally's patience began to thin. “Someone.” “Who gives somebody a gift like that?” His expression tightened. “Your boyfriend?” That landed differently. The room went quiet. Sally stared at him. “None of your business—” “I gave it to her.” Otto's voice came from behind them. Leon stood almost immediately and turned around. Otto was at the entrance to the lounge, hands resting on his hips. He wasn't shouting, but there was enough authority in his voice that the conversation outside seemed to stop as well. A couple of the adults glanced in from the deck. “I gave it to her,” Otto repeated. “It was her birthday.” Leon said nothing. “And because she deserved it,” Otto continued. “Sally has worked extraordinarily hard after everything she's been through, and she has been responsible with what she's been entrusted with. I wanted to give her something special.” His expression hardened slightly. “You don't have to understand somebody else's possessions. But you do have to respect them. And you certainly don't question a friend like that because you're irritated by what she has.” Leon blinked. The irritation had disappeared from his face almost instantly. He turned toward Sally. “Ich bitte um Entschuldigung. Ich wollte nicht wie ein Tyrann klingen.” Sally's own annoyance softened. “It's okay.” Otto looked at her. “No. The apology is accepted, but that doesn't mean you have to pretend something didn't bother you.” Sally glanced down. Otto turned back to Leon. “Don't let your competitive side make you unkind to your friends.” Leon nodded. “Natürlich, mein Herr.” Otto held his gaze for another second, then gave a curt nod and walked back toward the deck. The silence lasted perhaps three seconds. Then Ally took Sally firmly by the arm and pulled her down onto the sofa. “Right. Now tell us all about the orange car.” Sally laughed despite herself. Leon sat down again beside them, still looking slightly chastened. After a moment he offered Sally a small, tentative smile. She returned it. Truce. Then she looked back at the frozen image of the Aventador on the screen. “It's a crazy car,” she admitted. “I still can't get my head around the fact that it's mine.” -- “I heard you're starting to get involved in your dad's business,” Ally said once Sally had finally exhausted everything there was to say about the Lamborghini. Leon seemed more relaxed again now, leaning back into the sofa and listening rather than interrogating. “I am,” Sally said. “It's daunting, but I figure I'd better start now if I'm going to take over at some point.” Ally shook her head. “I couldn't do that. I don't know anything about business, and as long as everything's wrapped up properly in my trust, I'll be perfectly happy making a good living and leaving the complicated stuff to people who understand it.” She made a face. “I know that sounds cold and childish.” Sally considered it. “No, not really. I mean, that's a possibility. You can do that. Most people probably would.” She tucked one leg beneath herself on the sofa. “But I figure if something has value, and one day it's going to be mine, I'd rather understand it. Learn how it works. Eventually know how to take care of it.” Leon watched her quietly. Ally smiled. “I heard you convinced Trish to do the same thing.” “I did not,” Sally said immediately. “You absolutely influenced her.” “I didn't even talk to her about it. She just saw what I was doing and sort of... followed.” Sally shrugged. “Honestly, I was surprised when she told me.” “So you influenced her.” Sally pointed at Ally. “She influenced me.” “How?” “To feed goats. Shoot guns. Get her Bronco stuck in the mud.” Leon laughed. “She made you do all that?” “Didn't make me. It just sort of happened.” Sally spread her hands. “Trish. Texas. Trouble.” That made Ally laugh too. “Pity she prefers fishing in Alaska to soaking up the sun with us.” “She toured Europe in May,” Sally said. “I think she decided that was enough Europe for one lifetime.” Leon huffed. “Americans. They don't like adventure.” Sally and Ally both turned toward him. “Excuse us?” They said it at exactly the same time. Leon immediately raised both hands. “Entschuldigung!” The three of them laughed. Ally settled deeper into the sofa. “Sally isn't a normal American anyway. And I don't mind yacht adventures.” She paused thoughtfully. “But yes, after this I definitely need Broadway shows and Tiffany's.” Sally nodded approvingly. “That's the spirit.” -- Stargazing with a mocktail in hand had turned out to be absolute luxury. Sally couldn't remember the last time she'd stayed up so late simply because she was having too much fun to stop. The crew kept appearing with little bowls of snacks, Captain Henri pointed out constellations from the darkened deck, and Otto eventually produced an app on his phone so they could track satellites passing silently overhead. By the time Sally finally returned to her cabin, she was exhausted in the best possible way. She showered, pulled on a T-shirt and her diaper, then climbed into bed with her phone. Comfortable, warm and still far too awake to sleep immediately, she found her friends across the Atlantic very much alive and ready to comment on the photograph Ally had sent around.   Katrina: You look horrible, but the hamburger looks delicious.   Clara: She does not look horrible. She looks happy and extremely eager to eat that hamburger.   Sally grinned.   Sally: Thanks, Clara. I like your interpretation. I think that's what the photographer was trying to convey.   Patricia: I'll send it to Charlie. He'll like it.   Sally's eyes widened.   Sally: I will kill you.   Katrina: I sense violence in this chat room. Should I moderate?   Patricia: No need. She won't find me. I'll be in college by the time she appears.   Sally's thumbs moved quickly.   Sally: August 15. Hartford.   There was a pause.   Then:   Katrina: Oh? Special reason?   Clara: A certain birthday.   Patricia: Oh. Charlie hasn't decided whether he wants a party.   Katrina: Let's ask Sally.   Sally stared at the screen for a moment.   Then sent:   Sally: 🙂   The responses were immediate.   Patricia: 😳   Clara: Oh my God.   Katrina: Seriously?   Sally laughed quietly into the pillow.   Sally: He just got out of camp. We had a chat. He wasn't sure about it. I sort of encouraged him.   There was another brief pause.   Patricia: I have no objections.   Sally blinked.   Katrina: Sorry, Patricia. Charlie is being influenced by outsiders.   Clara: It's Sally...   Patricia: Sally is OK.   Sally smiled.   Sally: Thanks 😊   Patricia: Don't get used to it.   Sally chuckled and let the phone rest against her chest for a moment. The cabin was pleasantly cool, but after the warmth of the evening she kicked the bedsheet down toward the foot of the mattress. She had the distinct impression she wouldn't be needing it. Outside, the yacht was almost perfectly still. She switched off her phone, then the bedside lamp, and stretched out across the bed. Her diaper made its presence known as she settled onto her side, the faint familiar crinkle almost reassuring now. Sally smiled into the darkness. Her crinkly companion. Then she closed her eyes. -- The door opened suddenly. Sally, already drifting toward sleep, jerked awake as a wedge of soft corridor light spilled across the darkened cabin. “Oh.” She turned toward the doorway. Emma stood there. For perhaps half a second neither of them moved. Then Emma's eyes widened. Sally's stomach dropped. She sat up quickly, drawing her knees toward herself almost instinctively. Her T-shirt covered the upper half of her, but the sheet she might ordinarily have grabbed was nowhere within reach. She had kicked it all the way to the foot of the bed. Then Sophie walked straight into Emma's back. “What are you—” She peered around her sister. “Oh.” Sally closed her eyes for one excruciating second. When she opened them again, both twins were still standing there. “Sorry,” Emma stammered. “We thought... we thought you were awake.” Sally clenched her teeth. “May I have some privacy, please?” She couldn't quite bring herself to look at either of them anymore. Her eyes fixed instead on the dark wall opposite the bed. Neither twin moved. “Sophie. Emma. Bed. Now.” Astrid's voice came from somewhere behind them. Both girls disappeared so quickly they might have been pulled backward by a rope. Unfortunately, they left Sally's door wide open. The moment they were gone, Sally lunged toward the foot of the bed, caught the sheet and pulled it around herself. Astrid appeared in the doorway a moment later. “Is everything all right?” Sally was mortified. “Fine.” She tightened the sheet around her waist. “They just... surprised me. That's all.” Astrid's expression changed. “They walked in without knocking, didn't they?” “They thought I was awake,” Sally murmured. Astrid glanced toward the neighboring cabin, where the twins had presumably retreated at record speed. “I'll deal with them. That was rude.” “No, really. It's okay. Just a misunderstanding.” Astrid looked back at her and raised one eyebrow. “Trust me. Discipline in our household isn't decorative. They're taught manners, and some actions have consequences.” A small smile touched her mouth. “But I'll be lenient for your sake.” Despite herself, Sally almost smiled. She nodded, mostly because she wanted the entire episode to disappear as quickly as possible. Maybe they hadn't really noticed. Except, of course, they had. Astrid studied her for another moment, then gestured gently toward the room. “May I come in?” Sally hesitated, then nodded. Astrid stepped inside and closed the door behind her. That helped immediately. She remained near the door rather than approaching the bed. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” Sally looked down at the sheet gathered in her hands. “I was just falling asleep.” “And then had a fairly mortifying experience.” Sally's eyes snapped up. Astrid's expression was kind. “Your mother mentioned your nighttime situation to me before you came aboard. Only because she wanted somebody responsible here to know, in case you ever needed anything.” Sally swallowed, then nodded. “I understand.” “And if the girls saw anything, they won't tell anybody.” Astrid said it as matter-of-factly as if they were discussing a misplaced swimsuit. “I wouldn't worry about that.” Sally let out a quiet breath. “They'll also never walk into this cabin uninvited again.” Astrid paused. “After tonight, they may require written authorization.” A reluctant laugh escaped Sally. “I'll give them permission eventually.” “Very generous of you.” For the first time since the door had opened, Sally felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Astrid smiled. “Get some sleep.” She came a little closer and briefly touched Sally's cheek, maternal and affectionate, before turning toward the door. Then she remembered something. “Oh—and I heard you like to jog and exercise.” Sally looked up. “If you want to use the gym, it's upstairs, aft. You're welcome to use it whenever you like. Just one deck up.” Sally visibly brightened. Her fist, which had been clutching the sheet tightly at her waist, finally relaxed. “Really?” “Of course.” “Thanks. I might be there tomorrow morning.” “I suspected you might.” Astrid opened the door, then glanced back with a smile. “Sleep well, Sally.” “You too.” The door closed softly behind her. Sally remained sitting there for a few seconds, wrapped unnecessarily tightly in the sheet. Then she exhaled. Well. That had happened. -- Sally woke up in a dry diaper. Which was no real victory, she had to admit. She had barely slept. Every time she drifted off, her mind seemed to return to the same moment: the door opening, the light spilling into the cabin, Emma's startled expression, Sophie appearing behind her. It had been innocent. Accidental. Two teenagers whose eagerness to be friendly had briefly outrun their manners. Sally knew that. It didn't help much. They had found her exactly as she had turned in for the night, wearing the thing that gave her comfort and security when she slept. Something ordinary and familiar to her had suddenly become visible to somebody who wasn't supposed to see it. Her brain had spent half the night conducting an exhausting investigation. Best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario. Most reasonable outcome. Nothing really settled her. She knew, intellectually, that this sort of thing was bound to happen occasionally. People would discover things about her. That was part of leaving home, traveling, sleeping at friends' houses, going to camp, living an actual life instead of hiding somewhere safe enough that nobody could ever surprise her. Usually, though, she liked to control the facts. Sally frowned into the darkness. No. That wasn't even true. She could remember other times when people had found out. Friends' homes. Camp. Situations where circumstances had made the decision for her long before she had worked up the courage to say anything herself. And almost none of them had become disasters. A few had been awkward. One or two had hurt. But those didn't matter anymore. She rolled onto her other side. Apparently knowing all of that was very different from convincing her brain to stop thinking about it at two in the morning. At some point she got up to use the bathroom. Then, sometime later, she had to go again—a novelty in itself. Both times she discovered the practical challenge of carefully easing a taped diaper down far enough without disturbing the fastenings, then working it back into place afterward. By morning, therefore, the diaper was still dry. Hardly surprising. Sally lay there for another minute, looking toward the faint morning light beginning to outline the curtains. Then she sat up. Enough. She removed the diaper, washed up, and pulled on Lycra shorts and an athletic top. Socks next. Trainers. She tightened the laces firmly, stood and rolled her shoulders. She was tired. She was still embarrassed. Neither fact required her permission to continue with her day. The gym was waiting. -- She didn't care who saw her in her sports clothes. That, at least, was what Sally told herself as she stepped out of the cabin. She gritted her teeth. She was going to run. No matter who saw her. No matter what they thought. No matter how exposed she still felt after the night before. She climbed the stairs to the next deck and stopped for a moment as the morning opened around her. The Adriatic was a deep, almost impossible blue. Sally drew in a long breath. The sea air seemed to take some of the pressure out of her chest. Good. She began stretching. Slowly at first. Calves, hamstrings, hips, shoulders. Nothing dramatic. Just familiar movements, repeated patiently until her body began responding. The stiffness from a poor night's sleep eased. Her joints warmed. Muscles that had felt heavy and reluctant a few minutes earlier began to wake up. A deckhand appeared without interrupting her and quietly placed a neat stack of towels beside the gym area, along with a small cooler of mineral water. Sally glanced over. “Thanks.” “Of course, Miss Weiss.” Then she was gone again. Sally smiled faintly. She stepped onto the treadmill. Not running yet. She started it slowly and walked for a minute, letting her legs settle into the rhythm while she slipped her AirPods into place. Maddie had sent her a playlist. Apparently it was supposed to help Sally follow her latest drumming practice. Or, as Maddie had described it, her temporary drumming-practice frustration. Sally smiled despite herself. Then the opening chords of Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit crashed into her ears. She looked straight ahead. Beyond the glass, the blue horizon stretched almost perfectly level across the morning. Sally pressed her lips together. Her finger touched the treadmill control. Faster. Her stride lengthened. Again. Faster. She fixed her eyes on the horizon and began to run, trying to picture Maddie behind a drum kit somewhere across the ocean, attacking the song with equal parts determination and irritation. Sally's breathing found its rhythm. One foot. Then the other. Again. Again. Whatever else happened today, she was moving forward. -- By the time an hour had passed, Sally was sweating profusely, and Master of Puppets was almost making the last stretch easier. Almost. Leon’s arrival had been uneventful. He had stepped onto the deck, taken in the situation with one glance, and simply nodded to Sally, who occupied the yacht’s only treadmill. Then he had dropped to the deck and started doing push-ups. That was all. No awkwardness. No curiosity. No reminder of the night before. Sally kept running. Eventually, she slowed the treadmill to a brisk walk and pulled out her AirPods. Her breathing was heavy but controlled, and sweat had matted the hair around her temples and neck. Leon looked over. “Wasn’t expecting you here.” He sounded amused. Sally brushed damp hair away from her face and shrugged. “Not much space on the boat to run.” Leon nodded. “Running is not my thing. But it’ll do.” “What is your thing?” The question came easily enough, even if Sally was still conscious of how little there was to hide behind in her sports clothes. Lycra shorts, athletic top, flushed skin, sweaty hair. After the previous night, part of her still wanted more armor than that. She ignored the feeling. Leon pressed his lips into a small smile. “Tennis.” Sally’s eyes widened. “Tennis?” She laughed. “Me too.” Leon raised his eyebrows. “Really?” “Really.” He looked around the deck as though reconsidering the yacht’s shortcomings. “Pity there isn’t a court on board.” Sally smiled. “Yeah. Pity.” She slowed the treadmill to a stop and stepped down, reaching for one of the towels the deckhand had left earlier. Leon nodded his thanks as she cleared the machine for him. “See you later,” Sally said, waving lightly. “Later.” She headed toward the stairs. And somewhere between the treadmill and the deck below, Sally realized she felt better. Not magically better. Just easier. She had sweated out most of the tension, given her mind an hour to run itself tired, and finally managed to look at the whole thing with some perspective. There were worse things in life than two girls accidentally discovering that she wore a diaper to bed. Much worse. And besides, she thought with the faintest trace of humor, at least it had been dry. Breakfast was calling. But first, a shower. -- Breakfast in a bikini felt like a luxury all by itself. By the time Sally stepped onto the deck, somebody had already placed a coffee in her hand. After two appreciative sips, she decided breakfast could wait. She pulled off her cutoffs and T-shirt, left them neatly on a lounger and dove straight into the pool. “Look at you, trying to win the cool award,” Ally laughed later, finding Sally stretched comfortably in the morning sun, sunglasses on, biting into an exquisite piece of avocado toast. Sally smiled. “You only live once.” Ally flopped onto the lounger beside her, and almost immediately a deckhand appeared with her sweet latte. “I’m lazy in the mornings,” Ally admitted, accepting it gratefully. “But I’m learning to get up earlier and enjoy the sunshine. Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sally nodded toward the sea. “I’m a morning person, so I get a lot of this. Even cold, misty mornings in Zurich. I like those too. Best time for jogging.” “I cough and wheeze if I run for two minutes,” Ally said. “Don’t make me demonstrate.” “I won’t.” Sally laughed. “But it’s gradual. You don’t start by running. You jog slowly for a short distance. Then a little farther. Then farther again.” “Is that how you managed to run again? After the accident?” Sally nodded. “I was already a runner before. So as I healed, it became one of the ways I got my strength back.” Ally studied her for a moment. “Is it true you play tennis too?” “Yeah. A friend gave me a racquet, and we have a tennis court at home. In Zurich, I mean. So it became sort of an unavoidable addition to my sports activities.” Sally took another bite of toast. “That and swimming.” “Wow.” Ally shook her head slowly. “I’m seriously impressed by your recovery. That was what—last year?” Sally’s expression changed almost imperceptibly. “One year and forty-five days.” Ally noticed the precision and let it sit. Then she shifted deliberately. “Changing the subject, Emma and Sophie are grounded for the morning.” Sally turned sharply. “Grounded?” “In their cabins until lunch.” Ally raised her eyebrows. “Something about not respecting people’s privacy?” Sally frowned. “What did they tell you?” “I went to check on them. They were still in pajamas and looking like political prisoners.” Ally smiled. “They said they walked into your room without knocking and their mother caught them red-handed.” “Oh.” Sally looked down at her plate. “What else did they say?” “Mostly that you were cool about it and their mother was not.” Ally shrugged. “Astrid can be pretty strict, but honestly, those two can be completely empty-headed sometimes.” Then she laughed. “I hope you weren’t naked or something.” Sally gave a dry little chuckle. She pressed her lips together. Then she set her plate aside and sat up cross-legged. “Actually... it was worse.” Ally’s expression changed immediately. “Worse?” Sally nodded grimly. “I could keep it private. The twins won’t say anything. But...” She hesitated. “It’s embarrassing.” Ally held up one hand. “Then don’t tell me.” There was no teasing in her voice now. Sally looked at her. “I’d rather tell you.” “You don’t have to.” “I know.” Sally paused. “But this sort of thing eventually comes out. Especially with people I’m close to. People I like.” Ally looked slightly lost, but nodded. “Okay.” She waited. “Shoot.” Sally drew a breath. “It has something to do with the accident, but really it started before that. It was something I’d been dealing with and was actually getting over. Then after the accident it got worse.” She looked toward the water. “It improved again. And then, a little while ago, it came back.” Ally said nothing. “Nocturnal enuresis,” Sally said finally. “Basically, wetting the bed at night. Or whenever I’m asleep.” Ally processed that. “Oh.” “So when the twins barged in last night, I was almost asleep.” Ally waited. “Uncovered.” A gentle understanding began to form in Ally’s expression. Sally swallowed. “I was wearing a diaper.” There was a short silence. Then a small smile appeared on Ally’s face. “Okay.” Sally waited. “No wonder the twins are still in shock”, Ally chuckled. Sally’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah.” Ally reached over and squeezed her arm. “You okay?” Sally nodded. “Yeah. It sucks sometimes, but it is what it is.” She picked idly at the edge of her napkin. “When I get back from vacation, it’s back to star charts.” Ally frowned. “Like... stars on your calendar?” Sally rolled her eyes. “Potty training.” Ally burst out laughing. Then immediately covered her mouth. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s not funny. It just sounds—” Sally looked at her suspiciously. “Don’t.” Ally’s eyes softened. “Adorable.” Sally groaned and covered her face with both hands. -- This is a nice little bridge into the morning group dynamic—light, teasing, and with Leon visibly becoming more comfortable around them. The deck gradually began to come alive. Leon appeared with breakfast and settled nearby, giving Sally a quick wink as he sat down. Ally noticed. Sally, for some reason, felt an explanation was required. “We bumped into each other at the gym. He had to wait for me to finish with the treadmill.” “Oh.” Ally took a sip of her latte. “Too bad there weren’t two treadmills. You could’ve raced or something.” Sally eyed her. “There’s probably something we can compete at.” Ally chuckled. “Do you play chess?” Sally shook her head. “I know the basics. But I do know somebody who does.” She leaned back against the lounger, thinking immediately of Clara and her alarming ability to reduce people to silence over a chessboard. Across from them, Leon looked up. There was suspicion in his expression. “What are you whispering about?” Sally turned toward him. “You.” Leon raised his eyebrows. Then he slowly shook his head and returned to his breakfast. Girls. -- Otto looked like a man with a mission. Far too determined, Sally thought, for somebody standing on a yacht in a Hawaiian shirt and swimming trunks. He came over and rested a hand briefly on her shoulder. “Later, just a short get-together. Nothing difficult. A little conversation.” He motioned toward the dining table, where Matthias, David and Niklas were finishing breakfast. All three men looked over and waved. Sally frowned and planted her hands on her hips. “Work?” Otto shook his head. “Call it public relations.” He waved one hand dismissively, as though that made the distinction obvious. Sally narrowed her eyes. “What time is lunch?” “One o’clock.” She considered that. “Midday, then. Social. Appetizers. Getting to know each other.” Otto's expression brightened. “Deal.” Sally smiled and nodded toward the three men. She knew Weiss Enterprises had business connections with all of them, in addition to the families being long-time friends. But she also understood what Otto was really arranging. They were curious about her—not simply as Adrian Weiss's daughter, but as the person expected eventually to inherit responsibility for a large part of what he had built. Sally also had substantial interests held independently through her trusts, some of which overlapped with the wider Weiss business structure. So yes. Public relations. She could handle that. By now Lady Lara was already underway, cruising leisurely around Vis before turning toward the Pakleni Islands. Later in the afternoon they were supposed to go ashore and explore Hvar Town. For the moment, though, Sally had something more immediate in mind. She stepped over to Ally. “Come on.” “Where?” “Twins.” Ally understood immediately. Emma and Sophie were still officially grounded until lunch, and Sally had no intention of challenging Astrid's ruling. But Astrid had allowed Sally and Ally to visit them, and Sally wasn't about to leave the two girls imprisoned in their cabin all morning, suffering the indignity alone. Especially not over something involving her. It was time to go check on them. -- Sally knocked gently on the twins’ door. Nothing. She knocked again. A distinctly grumpy voice called from inside. “Døren er åben!” Sally and Ally looked at each other. Neither moved. Then the voice came again, this time in unmistakable English. “Come in!” Sally opened the door. Emma and Sophie were sprawled across the bed in their short pajamas, each with a book. They looked thoroughly miserable. Emma glanced up. Her eyes widened. “Oh. Sally!” Sophie turned around just as quickly and snapped her book shut. “We thought you were our mother.” “It’s us,” Sally said. Both twins immediately became uneasy. “Grounded means no TV or phones”, Emma shrugged, explaining their apparently studious setting. “We can read”, Sophie added. “That’s… constructive”, Sally’s nodded. Their eyes moved toward Ally. Sally understood why. Whatever else they might be guilty of, they had clearly taken the secrecy part very seriously. “It’s okay,” she assured them. “Can we talk?” Emma sat straighter. “We promise.” She looked toward Sophie, who nodded firmly. “To keep... everything secret. It was an accident.” “We thought you were awake,” Sophie added, still glancing uncertainly at Ally. Sally raised an eyebrow. “What a shock. Thinking I was awake and then finding me curled up in bed.” Ally chuckled. “And apparently quite a shock.” Emma shot her a suspicious look. Sally decided there was no point circling around it. “You probably weren’t expecting to see me wearing a diaper.” Both twins froze. Then, almost simultaneously, they shook their heads. “No,” Emma admitted. “Definitely not,” Sophie added. Sally sat down. “Do you know what nocturnal enuresis is?” The twins exchanged a look and nodded slowly. Sally waited. Sophie attempted the explanation. “It’s like when you dream that you went to the bathroom, and you use the bathroom in the dream... except you’re actually still asleep in bed.” Sally looked at Ally. Ally looked at Sally. Both started laughing. “Sort of,” Sally said. “Not exactly. But yes, it means wetting the bed while you’re asleep.” “A girl from school had it,” Emma said. “We found out at a sleepover.” She hesitated. “But she was eight.” There it was. Sally smiled faintly. “Yeah. It’s more common with little kids. Unfortunately, nobody informed my bladder that I’m sixteen.” That earned tentative smiles. “Is it because of the accident?” Sophie asked. “Not exactly. I had problems with it before that. But the accident made it worse for a while.” Sally considered how to explain it. “Stress can affect it. Anxiety. Sleep. A lot of things.” “PTSD,” Emma suggested. “Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Sophie supplied helpfully. Sally nodded. “That can be part of it too. There isn’t one simple reason. Saying it’s only one thing would probably be oversimplifying it.” The twins listened with enormous eyes. “So until my body figures itself out again, I feel safer—and honestly more comfortable—wearing protection when I sleep.” She let them process that. “And you still go on vacation and everything?” Emma asked. Sally blinked. “Of course.” Sophie turned toward her sister with complete seriousness. “That’s actually very brave.” “It is,” Emma agreed. Sally wasn't entirely sure that going on holiday qualified as bravery, but she let it go. Then Emma glanced at Ally. “And Ally already knew?” “She’s Sally’s age,” Sophie reasoned immediately. “They’re friends.” “I actually just told her this morning,” Sally said. “She was wondering why you two were grounded. It seemed rather serious.” Emma made a face. “Walking into your bedroom like that was serious.” “We promise never to do it again,” Sophie added quickly. “I believe you.” There was a moment of quiet. Then Emma’s mouth twitched. “You did look kind of funny.” Sally narrowed her eyes. Emma immediately looked down. “Sorry.” “Cute,” Sophie murmured. Sally stared at her too. Sophie shrank slightly. From beside Sally came Ally’s completely unhelpful contribution. “Adorable.” The twins brightened. “Yeah.” Sally rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Okay. Conference over.” She stood. “I have a meeting with some actual grown-ups.” That earned the first proper laugh of the morning from all four of them. -- At the last moment, Sally decided to change. There had been nothing wrong with staying in her cutoffs and bikini. She had wanted the whole thing to remain informal, and Otto had certainly presented it that way. But after thinking about it again, she decided there was a difference between informal and looking as though she had just wandered in from the pool. So she changed into a sensible sundress instead. Informal, but pleasant. She checked herself in the mirror. Bright. Composed. Comfortable. Her bare feet looked completely at home aboard the yacht, so she decided to take advantage of that. Then, with both hands, she deliberately mussed up her short hair until it looked a little less carefully arranged. Sally laughed at herself. “Time to face the sharks.” She had barely stepped out of her cabin when Delia appeared. “Miss Weiss, I've been asked to show you to the owner's quarters. Mr. and Mrs. Rasmussen are expecting you.” Sally chuckled. “Lead on.” Apparently she was being summoned. The owner's quarters occupied the yacht's upper level and felt almost like a private apartment within Lady Lara. Sally had not yet seen the expansive forward-facing bedroom, but toward the aft end there was an enormous private lounge opening onto its own deck, with a dining table, broad seating areas and sweeping views over the sea. Astrid was waiting at the top of the stairs. “Sally.” Her eyebrows rose approvingly as she took in the sundress. “Nice.” Sally grinned. “Might as well dress the part. Besides, we're cruising today. I don't think I'll be swimming.” “Not if you're coming to Hvar.” Astrid smiled. “The shopping alone makes the expedition worthwhile. The men don't seem to agree. I think they're staying aboard.” “We'll have more fun without them,” Sally said. “Precisely.” Astrid began leading her toward the lounge. “And after lunch, you should have your siesta.” Sally made a face. “I could actually use one.” “I hear the twins have officially adopted you as an honorary sister.” Astrid glanced at her. “I don't know what you did in there, but they were laughing with Ally when you left.” Sally smiled, pleased. “They promised to respect my privacy.” “A major achievement.” “I'll take the win.” Astrid checked her watch. “They're still grounded until lunch, however. Another hour.” Sally laughed softly. “Fair enough.” They entered the owner's lounge, where broad sofas created an easy conversation area around a low central table. Small plates of appetizers had already been arranged there, while a steward was finishing a side table with drinks, olives, cheeses and little tapas-style bites. Otto looked up first. His face brightened when he saw Sally, and he waved her over. “Here she is.” Sally approached. “Gentlemen.” Matthias, David and Niklas greeted her warmly as Otto shifted slightly and indicated the open place beside him. Sally sat down. Astrid took the seat on her other side. For one brief moment Sally became very aware of the arrangement. Otto on one side. Astrid on the other. Three extremely successful businessmen opposite her. Snacks in the middle. So much for public relations. Sally smiled. All right. Let's see what they wanted. -- Sally hadn't noticed that Matthias had a laptop resting on his knees. He turned it toward her. “Dad!” Sally sat back, genuinely startled. Adrian Weiss filled the screen, smiling broadly at her. And in his arms was Oskar. “Hi, sweetie,” he called. “Look who I've got here. Although he's sleeping.” Sally's entire expression softened. Oskar was nestled against Adrian's chest, apparently completely content with the arrangement, his little face turned sideways and one hand tucked close to his father. Her heart melted. Then Sally noticed somebody was missing. “Where's Mom?” “She went for a swim. I was ambushed into this call, so I wasn't exactly prepared.” Sally grinned. “Oskar's first meeting.” Adrian blinked. “Is this a meeting? I thought this was an envy call.” Sally looked around uncertainly. “I don't actually know what this is. There's food. Drinks...” “There you are, then.” Adrian gestured toward the screen. “I'm officially envious of the whole lot of you. And apparently you've recruited my own daughter to rub it in.” He was grinning despite the complaint. Oskar remained peacefully asleep against him. Sally leaned closer to the screen. “Looking good, Dad.” Adrian smiled. “Take care, Liebling.” “You too.” She gave him a little wave. “Tell Mom I love her.” “I will.” The call ended, leaving Sally still smiling at the blank screen for a moment. Then she looked around properly. This wasn't a business meeting. Not really. Astrid was beside her sipping an Aperol Spritz. David had a glass of champagne. Niklas appeared to have something resembling a Martini. Matthias closed the laptop and reached for one of the appetizers as though videoconferencing Adrian Weiss from a yacht had been the most ordinary thing in the world. A steward approached Sally with a tray of drinks. She studied them, trying to identify something— “Give her the Damm Lemon,” Otto called. “She'll like it.” The steward nodded and poured Sally a chilled, Spanish lemon radler-style drink. A tray of tapas and canapés was placed on the table in front of her. Sally picked up a small slice of bread topped with a thin round of chorizo, took a sip of her drink, and considered both. She nodded approvingly. “Good.” Otto looked unbearably pleased with himself. -- The conversation settled quickly into something far more social than Sally had expected. Oskar, unsurprisingly, became the main subject. “He looks remarkably comfortable with Oskar,” David said with a chuckle. “I never imagined Adrian holding a newborn like that.” Astrid looked genuinely offended. “It’s his son, for goodness’ sake.” Matthias made a face. “You have to admit, none of us expected Adrian to turn out quite the way he has. He was never a wild man, but he wasn’t exactly... soft.” Sally laughed. “I’ve watched him change a lot over the last few months. I can confirm he’s adapted very well.” Niklas leaned back comfortably. “And you? Did you adapt well? To Oskar, I mean.” Otto watched Sally from beside the drinks cart while a steward topped up his glass with tonic. Sally considered the question. “After the first five minutes of the pregnancy announcement? Yes.” She smiled. “Now I can’t imagine life without him.” Matthias tilted his head. “You have a few years before you know what sort of man he’ll become. But you’ll be a great help to your parents with him.” Sally pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “The press occasionally calls me a ‘matriarch in the making.’” She made a face. “I suppose there might be some truth to it.” “And why is that?” Otto asked. His voice remained gruff, but Sally knew him well enough to hear the kindness underneath. She looked toward him. “Because when Oskar turns eighteen, Dad will be seventy-six.” Otto glanced around the group with a small, knowing expression, as though Sally had just demonstrated something he had wanted the others to notice. Sally looked down at her glass. “It sounds daunting when I say it out loud. Dad has acknowledged it himself.” She paused. “But Oskar has a pretty good starting point.” “He has you,” Otto said. Sally nodded, then gave a small shrug. “And my parents.” Otto nodded slowly. Exactly. Sally remembered their conversation beside the pool about Adrian’s health. “My father calls me his heiress. Otto gives me surprise examinations because apparently somebody is eventually going to award me an honoris causa doctorate in finance and economics.” That earned a few smiles. “My mother has made me junior CEO of the Pembroke-Weiss Foundation.” She looked around the group. “And I’m completely in favor of Oskar growing up as my co-heir. Whatever all of this becomes one day, it belongs to both of us.” Sally held her head a little higher. “There’s no royalty in the Weiss family.” David gave her a crooked grin and raised his glass. “Spoken like a true American.” “And Swiss,” Sally added sweetly. “The Swiss aren’t particularly amenable to royalty either.” Niklas laughed. “As long as royalty brings its money to Swiss banks.” Sally pointed at him. “Different issue.” The group laughed. Matthias, however, had been watching her thoughtfully. “You’re going to do very well, Sally.” His tone had changed just enough that she knew he meant it seriously. Then he leaned forward. “And I want you to know something. If the time ever comes when you need our help—whatever it is—you have it.” David nodded. “So do you from me.” Niklas raised his glass slightly. “And me.” Sally became still. She glanced toward Otto. His eyebrows rose. There. That was what he had wanted her to hear. Not a lecture about corporate structures. Not an examination. Not another reminder of everything she might inherit. Three men who had known and worked with her father for years were telling her, directly, that when her turn came, she would not have to walk into that world alone. Sally smiled and lifted her Damm Lemon. “Here’s to friends one meets on yachts.” “Hear, hear,” David said. Glasses lifted around the room. Beyond the open doors, crew members were setting the outside table for lunch. Leon and Ally were already there, along with Emma and Sophie, finally released from their morning confinement and looking considerably more cheerful about life. Sally glanced beyond them toward the water. Lady Lara had settled at anchor off the Pakleni Islands. After lunch—and, apparently, the siesta Astrid had already prescribed—they would take the tender into Hvar. Sally took another appreciative sip of her Damm Lemon. So far, Otto’s sharks had turned out to be surprisingly friendly.

Für mich gab es immer nur eine Strafe und das war die Prügelstrafe. Ich war immer sehr ungehorsam und habe oft eingenässt. Die erste Strafe war das ich eine Gummihose tragen musste. Wenn meine Stiefmutter mich züchtigen wollte legte sie mich übers Knie und versohlte mir, mit der Hand, den Po. Das klatschende Geräusch erregte mich immer. Als ich 8 war bekam ich die Prügel mit einem Riemen auf die Gummihose. Als ich 12 war hing für meine Bestrafung im Flur, für alle sichtbar, eine Lederpeitsche. Wenn Mutti mich jetzt züchtigen wollte musste ich die Peitsche holen und sie bitten mich auszupeitschen. Dabei hatte ich schon einen steifen. Ich legte mich über die Sessellehne und Mutti schlug mit der Peitsche auf meine straff gespannte Gummihose. Während ich ausgepeitscht wurde spritzte ich meistens ab. Wenn Mutti das merkte, wurde ich am Abend noch einmal ausgepeitscht. Aber ich muss dazu sagen das ich nie so heftig ausgepeitscht wurde das ich irgendwelche Verletzungen hatte. Einen roten Po und ein paar Striemen. Ich liebe es wenn ich in Gummihosen ausgepeitscht werde.