Returning the Favor

"Jonas, are you ready?," Wendy asked, from the living room.

"Just gotta hit the can," Jonas replied, from down the hall.

Jonas opened the bathroom door and walked in, shutting it behind himself. He walked up to the toilet, and gently rolled his mother's commode chair out of the way so he could urinate. Once he was finished, he zipped up his pants and began to roll the commode over the toilet, stopping short about halfway.

"Holy fuck," Jonas thought to himself, "This is for real."

Jonas did a full circle in the bathroom of his childhood home, and realized that nothing was quite like he remembered. The cabinets and sink he remembered were long gone, replaced with something mom's wheelchair could roll under. The bathtub he had taken baths in had been ripped apart and replaced with a large, open roll-in tile shower, big enough for mom, her chair, and her caregiver.

The toilet Jonas had been potty-trained on seemed to be the only fixture that had remained sacred, and he had to move something out from in front of it.

Jonas' job in the military had meant he hadn't been home in about three years, but the most drastic changes had happened in the past six months, when Wendy had been discharged from rehab. Counters had been lowered, doorways had been widened, and voice controls had also been installed, among other things.

Wendy was only seventeen when she gave birth to Jonas, and they had been exceptionally close for the 23 years Jonas had been alive at that point. Wendy had an endless list of visitors while she recuperated from her skiing accident, but she wanted to see Jonas more than anything. He missed her more than anyone, but due to the nature of his work and the political climate then, he was unfortunately stranded overseas.

That morning at the airport had been the first time mother and son had seen each other in well over a year. They had made lots of video calls and exchanged pictures, so Jonas had definitely tried his best to mentally prepare for seeing his mother in a wheelchair. Wendy's left leg had spasmed as Jonas was deplaning, so he walked over just in time to see Wendy's caregiver, Jenna, gently loading her foot back into the footrest.

The pictures had helped prepare Jonas to see his sweet, beloved mommy in her wheelchair, but seeing her like that wasn't something he was ready for. She was the strongest woman he knew, she had raised him independently. She seemed so small and weak as she sat there stone-still, as a girl younger than him gently manipulated her leg back into place. He wanted to throw up.

Neither of them started to cry until Jonas hugged Wendy, and she couldn't hug him back.

Jonas washed his hands, and met his mom in the living room.

"You ready?," Jonas asked Wendy.

Wendy sniffled, and raised her head to look at her son. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, Jonas wiped them away without thinking.

"What's wrong?," he asked.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the smell hit Jonas like a train. Sour and pungent, he immediately realized exactly what had happened.

"I had an accident," Wendy mumbled at the floor.

They were both silent for a second, looking away from each other.

"Are you wearing a diaper?," Jonas asked, quietly.

While Wendy was in the hospital, there was an incident where a CNA had discussed changing her diaper loudly enough where Jonas had heard it over the phone. That had been the first and last of their discussions on that particular topic since Wendy had been injured.

Wendy's face lost all color. "Why would you even fucking ask that!?!," she asked, perturbed.

"I wanted to know if the pants were able to save," Jonas said, calmly.

Wendy took a deep breath. Focused on the clothes, above all else. He really was her kid.

"Yeah, I'm wearing a brief," said Wendy, emphasizing that she didn't say diaper. "My phone is on the coffee table, could you please call Jenna?"

"Doesn't Jenna live in Briggs?," asked Jonas.

"Yeah, why?," Wendy responded.

"That's like an hour away, with good traffic," said Jonas. "And there's a sheet of ice on the hill right now."

"Oh," said Wendy. "Knock next door and see if Paula's home."

"Paula?," asked Jonas. "What the fuck is Paula gonna do? Isn't she like 100 anyway?"

"She has kids!," Wendy snapped back. "And grandkids! I'm sure she's...cleaned up a mess before."

Jonas stared right through her. Before he could speak, she cut him off.

"There's a walk-in clinic down the road," said Wendy "I'm sure they wouldn't mind helpi-"

"No," said Jonas. "We aren't going to a walk-in clinic because you crapped your pants-"

"I had an INVOLUNTARY," Wendy exclaimed with everything above her third cervical vertebrae. "And they are medical professionals, I'm sure they've seen it all."

"They're gonna think I'm fucking neglectful! Just letting you walk in like that!," Jonas began to fire back. "And what about the people in the waiting room?"

Wendy realized that her solution wasn't really making any sense.

"Momma," Jonas said. "You get help from strangers every day, why can't I help you this once?"

As much as Wendy wanted Jonas to be around while she was recovering, she was thankful he never had to see her like that. Breathing through a tube, unable to eat solid food, passing out whenever the nurses sat her up for more than a few minutes. The hospital seemed to be an endless cycle of sponge baths, diaper changes and catheterizations, all of them humbling experiences by themselves, but often delivered consecutively.

Wendy exhaled, and looked down at her feet.

"You really don't make this easy, do you kid?," said Wendy. "Follow me."

Wendy wrapped her thick, pouty lips around the sip-n-puff straw on her chair, and led Jonas into the master bedroom.

Jonas felt disoriented as he walked into his mother's bedroom, it felt like he was walking into somewhere completely new. The mattress Wendy had slept on for all of Jonas' life and most of her own was long gone, an electric hospital bed occupied its former space. The ceiling fan had been replaced by a lift on a track system, with a small light on either side. The walls had even been painted a different shade of blue. Jonas looked down by his feet, desperately trying to remember exactly where he had spilled a cup of grape juice when he was six. He had honestly thought Wendy would kill him for staining the carpet.

Back when there was carpet, before it had been replaced with the vinyl plank flooring Wendy's motorized wheels seemed to prefer.

Wendy entered the room first, making a small half-circle in her chair before pulling up alongside the edge of her bed, stopping directly in front of her pillow.

"My sling is in the closet, could you please grab it?," Wendy asked.

"I'm strong," said Jonas, beginning to pick up his mother. "I'll just do this-"

"I'd really prefer you use the lift," Wendy said, sharply.

Jonas gently placed his mother back in her chair. She really hadn't meant to snap like that, but since she couldn't feel his touch anymore, she cherished her memories. And she wasn't about to taint those memories by adding this to the "most recent" column. Even though she trusted Jonas with her life and beyond, she just wasn't ready for this. It was easier to pretend, at least for now, that he was a stranger, a hired aide who happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to her only son. For the sake of her own self-preservation.

Jonas retrieved the sling from the closet, and loaded Wendy into it. She talked him through the process just fine, but Jonas had watched every and any video related to the care of quadriplegics while he was stationed overseas. Once Wendy was out of her chair, Jonas began to lower her onto her bed. Before she was fully lowered, she spoke up.

"Sweetie," said Wendy. "There's some blue pads in the nightstand, could you please lay one flat under me?"

Jonas laid the pad out, squaring up the corners with Wendy's mattress. He lowered his mother fully, then gently manipulated the sling out from under her. Once she was comfortable, he replaced the sling in the closet, before returning to Wendy's bedside.

"Pull my shirt up a little bit, please," said Wendy.

Jonas gently pulled up his mother's shirt, exposing her soft, pale midriff. He rolled her onto each side, gently, to evenly expose her skin. He spied a small rose tattoo on the left side of her ribs. He didn't remember her having any tattoos before.

If anything, she made it a point that she didn't like tattoos.

"Alright," Wendy sighed. "I don't honestly know how I never thought it would come up, but I specifically never told you how I go to the bathroom now."

"Guess not," said Jonas, unsure how to respond.

"Oh, fuck," Wendy groaned, before closing her eyes and exhaling. "For #1, I have a catheter, it's draining into a bag around my left calf."

"I see," said Jonas.

"For #2..." Wendy trailed off for a second. "Every morning, Jenna pushes a suppository up there, then she helps me into my commode chair and we park over the toilet."

Jonas was silent. He had read lots of literature on bowels programs, countless videos as well. But hearing his own mother describe her own in great detail was on a totally different level.

Wendy got quiet. "She has to lube her finger up and make sure I'm all the way empty. Then she helps me get cleaned up."

Again, Jonas was at a loss for words.

"I never wanted you to know any of that," said Wendy. "I'm sorry for all of this."

"It's okay," said Jonas, holding Wendy's unfeeling hand. "I'll always be here for you."

Fighting back tears, Wendy gulped, before taking a deep breath.

"Let's get my pants down," she said. "Not all the way off, but down to my ankle is fine."

Jonas obliged, gently rolling his mother onto each side to lower the elastic waistband over her ample, wide hips. Once the pants were underneath her buttocks, it was easy to slide them down to her ankle. Wendy was fully exposed from the navel down, saved for her soiled incontinence brief. A slim red catheter ran out of Wendy's diaper, down her leg and into a thick, white bag collecting amber liquid.

"There's a coffee can under my bed," said Wendy. "You can drain my bag in there."

Jonas placed the can neatly between his mom's spread legs, and gently unstrapped the bag from her paralyzed calf. He drained the bag completely into the can, before replacing the cap and affixing it to Wendy's motionless leg.

"Just put the lid back on, babe," said Wendy. "We can put it in the toilet later."

Jonas moved the coffee can underneath Wendy's bed, out of the way.

Wendy looked away from Jonas. "The sides of my brief should just tear away, gloves and wipes are in the nightstand, you can throw everything in the trash by the door," she said. "I don't need to explain any further, do I?"

"Nah,' said Jonas. "Think I got it."

"I love you," said Wendy.

"I love you too," said Jonas.

Wendy closed her eyes, and attempted to leave this dimension. Jonas tore the thin, cotton straps containing Wendy's modesty. He pulled the front of the garment back, unsure what to fully expect.

Jonas had caught a glimpse of his mother in the buff here and there when he was a young child, but absolutely nothing like what he was currently experiencing. Jonas could see the origin of Wendy's slim, red catheter. Her lips were a dullish pink, puffy, and protruded her so slightly past her vaginal opening. Fortunately, Wendy's accident was mostly liquid contained inside of the brief. Jonas had relatively little solid mess to deal with.

What absolutely shocked Jonas the most was Wendy's pubic hair, or lack thereof. He had been expecting considerably more hair, but Wendy was bare, save for a neatly trimmed brunette strip directly in the center of her pubic mound.

Jonas was old enough to realize that most women didn't groom themselves, or in his mom's case, have themselves groomed like that unless they planned on being seen naked. Throught her hospitalization and recovery, the idea of Wendy having sex hadn't once crossed Jonas' mind. She had dated a few guys here and there while he was growing up, but didn't have any serious boyfriends, at least not until he had moved out. Jonas had mistakenly assumed that sex was simply something his paralyzed mother could no longer participate in, like tennis or bowling.

Jonas gloved up, and gently rolled Wendy over so he could remove the soiled diaper. He tossed it in the trash, replacing his gloves and grabbing a container of wipes on the way back to Wendy.

Jonas opened the wipes and started off by cleaning the top of Wendy's pubic area. Even through his latex gloves, Jonas couldn't help but notice how soft and smooth Wendy's skin was. He realized she had most definitely been waxed, and not shaved. Did she know any estheticians? Did she have to go there, or would they travel to her? Is she waxed in a bed, or on her chair?

Jonas stopped just short of falling into the rabbit hole that was his quadriplegic mother's intimate grooming routine.

Jonas grabbed another wipe, and began to clean lower. With one hand, he spread his mother's paralyzed labia, while the other hand gently cleaned everything in between. Jonas desperately tried his best to clean on and around Wendy's vagina, but not in. He was mortified by the thought, but Jonas realized that, not only was the first vagina that he had touched in well over a year, he couldn't even remember the last woman he had seen naked.

Sadly, while Jonas' brain saw the bigger picture, his hands and penis only registered him stroking the genitals of the opposite sex. To Jonas' complete shock and horror, he felt his penis begin to stiffen and swell in a way that seemed to grow stronger the more he resisted it. Thank god he had changed into nice chinos for dinner, had he been wearing the sweatpants he had flown in wearing, they probably would've split down the middle.

When Jonas was growing up, a local radio personality had a long standing contest where he bought a tank of fuel for any listener who could make him throw up in one sentence or less. Jonas figured "Got a boner changing my paralyzed mom's diaper" would probably be worth a tank of gas.

Fuck, he'd probably have gas for a year.

Jonas helped turn Wendy on her side, and began to spread her cheeks, to wipe down the middle. Even though muscle atrophy had eaten away at her once-toned figure, Wendy was still very much a full-seated woman. Her thick, round intimidating cheeks had lost some mass, but her hips were still just as round and wide. Jonas' friends had always embarrassed him, teasing him that his mom was a total MILF. It took a long time to come to terms with it, and although he'd never tell a soul, Jonas had realized that, if they weren't mother and son, he'd definitely go home with her. He probably wouldn't go out with her, but he'd for sure follow her home.

Jonas started by cleaning his mother's hole, then gently wiping the edges of her cheeks. Once Wendy was clean, Jonas shut her cheeks, and gave them a wipe down for good measure. Wendy's skin was smooth, and incredibly soft to the touch. The last few times he had accidentally touched her there before leaving home, she had always had impressive muscle mass, this was so much different. As much as he hated to admit it, Jonas thought women with his momma's body type were the sexiest.

Once Wendy was clean, Jonas helped her onto her back, threw away the supplies and gloves, then left for the bathroom to wash his hands. When Jonas came back, Wendy spoke without opening her eyes.

"Is it over?," she asked.

"Yeah," said Jonas.

"Will you please hold me?," Wendy asked her son.

Jonas silently scooted his mom over in her bed, and held her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," said Jonas.

"No sons should ever have to do this for their mothers," said Wendy.

"It's fine," said Jonas. "You changed my diapers when I was little."

"I figured you'd be changing my diapers when I was eighty, not forty!," said Wendy.

"They're called briefs," said Jonas. "And you don't turn forty for another month."

Wendy cackled. "Guess you're just returning the favor," she said. "God, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," said Jonas.

"It was hell going through all of that, alone."

"Believe me, I went through it alone, too."

Wendy smiled, for the first time in what seemed like forever. "I have such good news I want to share with you," she said.

"Your boyfriend?," asked Jonas, inconspicuously eyeing downward at his mother's neatly-trimmed bush.

"What boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend," said Wendy. "I mean, not at this very second... I was seeing a guy for a minute, it didn't exactly work out, we're still hanging out though. Wait, how'd you even know?"

"I didn't," Jonas grinned. "But you just confirmed my suspicions."

Wendy and Jonas shared a laugh, before Wendy continued.

"I can't wait for dinner to tell you the goo- OH FUCK!," Wendy exclaimed.

"Our reservations!," said Jonas.

"Hopefully they held our table," said Wendy. "My briefs are under the sink in the bathroom, would you mind helping me into one?"

Jonas got up and kissed his mother on the forehead, before dashing off and returning with a thick, white hospital-style adult diaper.

"Oh, honey," said Wendy with a small smile. "I meant the other ones, but it's fine, just turn me over."

Jonas gently rolled Wendy over, tucking the diaper underneath her. Once it was straight, Jonas helped Wendy onto her back and pulled the diaper shut over her numb vagina and anus. Once his mother was fully diapered, Jonas pulled her pants up.

"Not bad for my first and last time changing one," said Jonas.

"I don't know about that," said Wendy.

Jonas stared inquisitively before asking, "Oh?"

"I was planning on telling you at dinner, but," Wendy said, looking down at her belly. "You won't be an only child for much longer."