My wrist buzzed, yanking me from sleep once again. I moved with predatory stealth, hoping to attend to the crying so Adam, sleeping beside me, wouldn't wake. He'd been with me and Charles for two weeks now, ever since the babies had been discharged from the NICU to the nursery, and oh boy, had I been busy.
During the day, I juggled five eager toddlers, caring for their younger siblings. These little ones weren't afraid of the smell of baby poo; rather, they were fascinated by the contents of diapers. Consequently, I had to ensure those soiled diapers were packed away securely, out of reach of my overeager helpers.
My five babies – Suzie, Lizzy, and Evie – were calmer this time around than Jesse and Luca. My boys, Jesse and Luca, were the troublemakers, the loud ones. They shared many of my facial features, but with black hair, whereas the girls were blondes with Damon's eyes and his regal facial features. It was quite funny, really.
I moved silently and tiptoed to the nursery, where I could already hear an irate Jesse preparing to wail at the top of his lungs.
As I approached him and shushed him, a voice from the doorway said, "Honey, wake me. I told you, there's no need for you to do this alone; you need to sleep sometime."
Adam, looking sleepy with his mussed hair and dressed only in boxers, walked in and took the angry baby boy from my arms, carrying him to the changing table.
I checked on the others, and oh yes, Lizzie was fussing. Her tiny face twisted into a familiar expression, telling me she was busy filling her diaper, too.
I picked her up, and again, a voice from the doorway said, "Hello, baby. Sorry, I haven't been around. What's going on? It's three a.m."
Damon stood in the doorway, looking at Adam very coldly as Adam cooed to my son. I simply held myself back from calling him "Daddy" in front of Damon.
Damon walked in, picked up our daughter, and crooned to her, "Oh, you are tiny, aren't you? Daddy's little Tinkerbell. Come on, Daddy's going to change you. Shh, everything is just fine."
The nursery was a large, calm space with light blue walls adorned with pictures of daisies, roses, and passionfruit vines stretching from wall to wall. The floor was covered in soft, foamy matting, which absorbed the sound of footsteps, creating a peaceful atmosphere. My care station was quite spacious, offering enough room to change three babies simultaneously, each with their own station.
Tall cabinets housed clothes, supplies, toys, and everything else needed for the babies' care. The cribs were automated and featured a rocking motion. Additionally, an Adam-installed sensor alerted me when a baby was awake, and my wristwatch displayed who needed attention, allowing me to remotely soothe them.
However, Damon was irate, and a palpable tension filled the air.
He glanced at me and curtly said, "Go back to bed. Leave the watch on the table. I can take it. No resistance, please."
I rolled my eyes; Adam simply nodded. Knowing there were extra versions of the watch, I understood it wasn't a world-shattering issue, so I removed it, placed it on the table, and walked back to my dim, cool bedroom. I was tired, so I knew I would fall back asleep quickly and easily.
In fact, I was responsible for ten babies, while Mariella cared for nine. As for the toddlers, we had allocated two people per four toddlers, or something similar. Mariella had two, and I had three people for my toddlers during the daytime. Including the adults—ten Salvatores, Adam, Charles, Damon, Leopard, Wulfe, myself, Mariella, and eight older girls—there were a total of 25 adults. Mariella and her brood were downstairs, meaning some of us were also there.
The smaller babies were cared for by three people per five babies, so I had three, and Mariella had four, as she had six babies. We always put in a little extra effort because things could sometimes get very busy.
Furthermore, the babycarers were also tasked with helping with the toddlers whenever they had free time, which included feeding, potty time, reading, bathing, and ensuring they were asleep. This arrangement already bound six people to caring for my children. I was usually one of them, but other duties often arose. Mariella's brood also bound six people, though I wasn't sure if she was one of them.
The initial task already involved twelve out of twenty-five people. We then needed to prepare food, which meant one person on each side ensured the day's meals were ready, and three auxiliary individuals prepped for upcoming days by chopping meat, making sauces, and so on.
This process was replicated on both sides, involving a total of eight people. This left only two per side for cleaning, laundry, and heating. One of these two was usually the pack leader, responsible for paperwork. Consequently, we were extremely busy, making it impossible for us to take the night shift this time, as our presence was required. I slept whenever I had the opportunity, and knowing myself, this was a rare occurrence.
I was still contemplating this as I crawled into bed, pulled the covers over me, closed my eyes, and fell asleep in the middle of an idea, desperately trying to optimize things further. At one point, I sensed someone joining me in bed, but I was too deeply asleep to let it bother me.
I assumed it was Adam and simply burrowed deeper into my blankets, sighing. In this room, which was not sanctified with Damon, I had separate blankets.
Adam preferred sleeping peacefully, unlike me, as I tended to toss and turn or use him as a limb support. Therefore, he opted for his own blanket, which I couldn't hoard or push him under.
My blanket, however, was enormous, soft, downy, and simply perfect. I had even brought my old cover from the original Italian castle, a luxurious silk item I had purchased myself and had used very little.
However, I was surprised when someone tugged my blanket.
Soon, Damon's voice muttered, "Come on, baby, we can share. I'm not like Adam."
He tugged the blanket free from my grip, pulled me tightly against him, trapping my limbs so I couldn't kick him. I was spooned against his chest, my head pressed against his heart, and I fell back asleep, lulled by his heartbeat.
My mind was too sleepy to truly process what was happening, but I supposed my mate was jealous and didn't want Adam sleeping next to me. Only time would tell if he would stay or leave, especially given that he had logged himself in.
I woke up to someone poking me in the eye.
As I opened my eyes, I noticed Darien's small face looking at me, declaring gleefully, "Mommy awake, play!"
I grabbed him and tickled him. I was alone in bed, with only the faint imprint of Damon's body left, not even his scent lingered, which told me he had been gone for quite some time. I kissed my baby boy and made him giggle.
Soon, my bed was overwhelmed as other toddlers climbed in too, and we were all giggling and laughing as I cuddled my children, who had missed me so much.
Sadie looked at my belly and said, "Mommy is small."
I smiled. "Yeah, mommy is small," I replied, "as the babies are out now. Have you had breakfast yet?"
Dash nodded, prompting me to reach for my phone. Oh, it was 9:45 am, so I had slept quite a long time; well, rest was certainly needed.
Soon, I heard Mariella's voice, oddly enough, as she called playfully, "Now, where will I find those five? I will tickle them to death!"
Her voice came closer, and the kids huddled under my blanket.
As Mariella opened the door, wearing just jeans and a t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail, she said, "I can smell you; tickles are coming!"
The kids were giggling under my blanket, and Mariella came to the bed to tickle and play with them, too.
She said to me telepathically, "Damon's orders. The kids need to have us all, so he ordered me to your kids for a few days. The Salvatores are manning downstairs, and these guys are wonderful—lively but wonderful."
I nodded and replied via hivemind, "They are; they seem really handful. I think I have overslept, but I am up now."
She nodded and said, as she dug the kids under the covers, "Now, you five, chop chop! It's time to go out; snowcastles aren't building themselves. Go on, shoo! Britney is waiting for you."
The children scrambled out of the room as older girls came to direct them to get more clothes on.
Mariella sat on my bed as I watched the children depart for their outing.
Her tone somber, she began, "I know you, and more importantly, Damon knows you. Adam was worried about you. Since you have no idea of all the upgrades to our system, let me tell you a few, and then you can get more."
She took a breath, her body language relaxing, even her pheromones revealing a slight tension. She was essentially in an alpha female's room, about to deliver a lecture, so she was carefully considering her words.
I rolled my eyes and replied, "I'm not going to attack you. You're just the messenger, so ease up, will you? Your pheromones are giving me a headache, and not in a good way. I'm blocking myself to avoid giving you a strong dose of velvet to ease your anxiety."
She smiled sheepishly and continued, "First, our system now keeps score. Whatever you log and mark as done is not deleted; it goes into your account. Twice a month, pack leaders review these accounts. Medical professionals have established rules and regulations outlining what one can and cannot do, and these are all flagged. Let me tell you, Damon knows, and Charles knows. Numbers two and four are not impressed at all. You are doing too much, way too much, and they've done something about it."
I took a breath and said, "It seems my dear husbands have lost their minds. We are busy, crazy busy, and everyone is needed."
Mariella explained, "It's a bit like clocking your hours at work. The same thing happens here. You clock activities like laundry, helping with meals, and taking the kids out. These all have assigned times. For example, meals take an hour, laundry less than an hour, and outings two hours. Ashley, for instance, logs about seven to nine hours daily, sleeps at least six, and rests. She doesn't overdo it, and we don't even have baby care all of the time. You, however, have been logging an average of fifteen hours per day, with intermittent sleep totaling less than four hours and very little rest. Since you're still recovering, your health isn't up to par. You should be working or acting at about sixty-five percent capacity, meaning logging perhaps six to seven hours, sleeping ten hours, and resting by relaxing, being around others, and eating. Damon has written a manual for this, specifically for you."
I muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."
She shook her head and admitted, "I can't clock more than a maximum of 8 hours per day, and my weeks are capped at 50 hours. I have to rest at least 12 hours, which can be spent sleeping or watching movies, and I need to eat perfectly. I have the next set of lab work on Friday; they are weekly, until they are perfect, times three."
"Oh, yeah, men have lost it, truly had," I thought. "This was ridiculous. Sure, I could understand they were worried, but we had a lot to do. No time to cuddle me, and I wasn't going to make others pull my weight, nope. I would have to talk to the men, and quite snappily, about this."
Mariella looked at me and said, "I know this sounds like I would be advertising Damon, but he is trying. He is trying to look after you, and sure, he is rough around the edges, as he has no idea how to deal with you. He is worried, and this new bond of yours makes him see you in a new light as well, feel you so damn sensitively, and he is almost scared. So, please, just think about it. Let him do this. Show him you let him care for you, and he will learn better ways too. Read the manual; maybe your brilliant mind will get the gist of it, but he is doing this out of love, despite you probably seeing this as just one more try for him to assert his power over you. Lean on him; make him see that you need him, and he will ask; he will be there for you."
I furrowed my brow, as this made me think, really think. Maybe Mariella was actually right, and this effort, as crude as it was, maybe I just should take a leap of faith and see where I was going. I mean, he is my husband, and surely I can let him care for me.
It is a new time for me. I was silent and then started to hum "City of Stars" from La-La Land. This made Mariella furrow her brows, her face scrunching into almost a frown as she was trying to catch what the song was.
"Well, as it is," I said to her, "I seem to have a lot of spare time, and I'm in the mood for musicals. This one is from *La La Land*, which is funny because it was one of my sister's favorites, so it's an older one. But there are older ones too, like *Grease*, *Sound of Music*, *Mary Poppins*, and *My Fair Lady*. Now I know what I need to get for myself. Thankfully, I have an extensive library of music, not to mention *Mamma Mia*. I wonder if I can talk Wulfe into watching them with me; he's not always that into musicals."
Mariella replied, "Well, if he's not willing, I certainly am. I haven't seen half of those musicals because I don't watch movies that much. My bedroom has been reserved for other activities, but now I'm beginning to learn that life is so much more than just sex. And yes, musicals! Let's take the older girls with us, have a girls' night, and sing as much as we want."
It seemed her need to experience new things was once again rising, but I wasn't sure how the Salvatores might react if it was just a girls' night and we didn't invite them. I also had no idea if any of them even liked musicals.
Mariella finally got up and said, "Well, I'm off to laundry duty with number five. Meaning I get to fold, maybe hang wet clothes, but I won't handle anything dirty, as I'm susceptible to infections. I have limited time for sex, meaning twice or three times a week, and that's actually good. But I need to go now, and you can check what's there for you as they've wiped out your selections and taken most of the stuff for themselves. They can multitask, meaning the cook doesn't have to stay in the kitchen; food can be braised in the oven, etc., leaving cooks free to clean or be with the kids, or get wood. Oh, that reminds me, Damon actually hired local lads to chop our wood, so no woodchopping is needed. It was Sheila's idea, as she wanted an arrangement done and saw men chopping wood. There are plenty of local youngsters looking for an extra buck or two, and Damon hired a whole horde of them."
I replied, "That's a good idea. I guess there might be more jobs for locals in the springtime if we want to utilize them. I'm not sure if they have school or anything, but it's a good idea. It makes us even more a part of the community."
She walked out of the room, leaving me lying on my bed, unsure whether I wanted to shower just yet or simply put my clothes on. For me, it was actually quite a clever thing to do; paying for their help wouldn't lead to financial ruin, and it would ease stress while allowing us more free time as a family. Surely, if I were creative, I might even find new things to do.
Hmm, yes, I was once again twisting the narrative in my mind. Oh, this was going to be fun. I decided I would make a list of all the little jobs that came to mind and then innocently start doing them, only to attract worried husbands and present them with the list, essentially making them do my little jobs for me. This way, I could have my movie time, either with the kids or with the girls. Yes, I was going to laze around and have a ball.