"Oh Damon, I want this! It's just perfect," Mariella's excited voice boomed across the Christmas tree farm as we shopped for our tree.
The cold air nipped at our cheeks, despite the warmth of our beanies, gloves, and jackets. The wind was particularly chilling, and Mariella's face was ruddy, her nose bright red, but she was giggling, clearly enjoying the attention of some Salvatore who would tolerate her advances. Christmas was just a week away, and Charles and Adam were both working.
I was, as usual, annoyed. It was Friday, and I'd put in long hours all week. No seduction had occurred, not last weekend, nor this week. I had focused solely on my work, putting in long days at the busy shop. I was also pissed off for a multitude of other reasons. I was the pack leader now, at least until Thursday of next week, when Charles was due home for Christmas.
First, my appointment had been moved, which meant neither Adam, Charles, nor Damon would be able to make it; it was postponed until after Christmas, and Mariella was smug about the situation. Well, Number Five hadn't been with her, but he was also working hard, having just contributed a portion of his paycheck to a children's education fund. Numbers Four, Nine, and Ten were also contributing.
Mariella wasn't involved, but she was certain they wouldn't need any additional accounts. Damon made so much money that the contributions wouldn't be a burden in the future, and since it was for years from now, well, that was her opinion. I didn't discuss it with her, or anything else for that matter.
I was working from 8 AM to 6 PM almost every day, and I planned to keep the shop open tomorrow as well. Money was tight, and I was frustrated because Mariella wasn't even looking at the price tags of the trees. She was choosing them as if money were no object. I had given them a debit card with a thousand dollars for the trees, and if they went over, they would have to pay the rest themselves.
Even this didn't deter her. She wanted big, tall trees. Wulfe and I were looking at more exotic specimens; they were much smaller, but fancier. I had also set our budget to $1000, and Wulfe loved to check the price tags and choose as many as he could. For him, it was almost as fun as haggling. He even wanted to go with me to thrift stores sometimes to see what treasures we could find.
The Salvatores were milling about, some of them – like numbers 4, 5, 9, and 10 – had been working too hard, putting in more hours, making more money, and being responsible. Number one, on the other hand, had worked shorter days since he wasn't as needed, and everything was going fine. He also kept a private practice, seeing patients privately as a physician and making extra money, setting his own fees. He could be a good little wuss and earn more money for Mariella.
Wulfe said to me, "Hey, look at this! This is wonderful and so soft. I bet this would be wonderful for babies."
It was a species of larch, a special one because it didn't lose its leaves during winter, and it was wonderfully soft.
Wulfe continued, "Oh, see? Only 89 dollars. This we take."
There was only one, and I lifted it, carrying it to the sellers to be packed for us. Most of our trees were about 10 feet or less, making them less than 100 dollars per tree. Mariella and Damon, however, didn't look at prices, so their tall trees were much more expensive. As a result, Mariella was the one choosing them.
I had reserved three cards, one for girls as well. This time, though, it wasn't just Mariella and Damon who got to choose trees; everyone did. As packleader, I was doing things my way, and I could tell it was pissing off Mariella. After all, we were still linked via hive, and I felt her frustration. But I didn't care. I kept myself shielded, not letting everyone feel me.
However, Mariella was so needy that no one paid much attention to me anyway. The Salvatores had opened the eggs – as always, with Mariella – and we already had a few sheds. The first feeding was done. Charles planned to put the first ones on sale after Christmas, or maybe a little later in the spring, when posting them would be safer because it was wickedly cold from time to time.
I stood there, watching, waiting for us to finish our selections and head home. I tried to curb my irritation by taking a few deep breaths, but there were just too many things rolling around in my mind. It was no use anyone telling me I had time, because every day, week by week, these five little ones grew, taking up more space and limiting what I could do or function. My time to act was limited. For Mariella, it was no biggie, as she wasn't even planning to do much for herself.
But for me, I had too many things to get ready, like my nursery. Charles and Adam would be working more after Christmas, which meant they'd have less time at home, and the nursery might not be their top priority, as the yard took time. Adam had his hands full with his security consultations and starting our farm, while Charles was knee-deep in our finances.
Damon, number one, had once again shown he wasn't a good choice as packleader, as he couldn't keep his mind on the matter but on Mariella and her needs and wants. Charles wasn't changing the order of succession, much to Damon's chagrin. It just meant two more weeks of work for me, as I had to make sure everything was working, and if there was a problem, it would be dealt with.
Additionally, some bills needed to be paid or sent to Charles so he could attend to them. I had to fill out a ton of paperwork for my benefits and my insurance, too. As for Damon filling out our joint tax returns, well, he did it but muttered to himself, as it wasn't so easy, and it took a horde of Salvatores to fill them out.
The evening air was crisp and dark. Colorful lights, put out by an unknown source, illuminated the yard, and the Salvatores had also added some lights after Mariella had persistently asked them to. However, no rugs or curtains had been changed.
My guess was that Mariella, who had been the one requesting lights, was just showing off, although I didn't care. I was far too busy to worry about Christmas curtains. Wulfe was also working longer hours because he had become invested in the children's education.
After spending a night with him discussing various schools, curricula, values, and tuition, it became clear that it wasn't easy to simply enroll the children. Some schools were quite religious, and even we knew the facts. I could foresee a problem in the future, as my kids would surely voice their opinions on what was true and what wasn't.
I had brought this up at dinner with Wulfe, curious if Damon had any thoughts, but he was only focused on feeding Mariella and whispering about their future bedtime action in very explicit language. His interests were obvious. Still, I had to show numbers five, four, ten, and nine on all the school homepages so they could check them and give their opinions.
The girls had their own ideas, so this was a group effort. Since Mariella didn't want to be involved, we excluded her. There was no point in planning her schooling when she seemed to think she still had plenty of time. She would learn the hard way when time was running out.
I was fed up with her uppity attitude and carefree approach, as if this was going to be easy. I was the only one being reasonable here. Forewarned is forearmed, and these things needed to be ready. The kids might start school pretty early, so it was good to ensure everything was in order to avoid any surprises.
Knowing the budget for each year, I realized that in the grand scheme of things, the allocated amount wasn't that substantial. Mariela, upon hearing "millions," might assume everything was fine. However, when divided across the years, children, and expenses, the reality was much different.
My mind, prone to overthinking, began to churn again, and I knew the responsibility of getting through this would fall on me and a few others. This meant I'd likely have to be the "bad guy" more often, which would create its own set of problems.
I was roused from my thoughts by Number Five, who approached me.
He said, "Alright, missy, once we're home, you're going to bring me, Numbers 3, 9, 10, and 4 up to speed. Tell us how much money we have, what our expenses are, and how we're going to make it work. I've sensed your worry for days, and it seems you're once again building a ball of anxiety in your mind. You haven't been sleeping, have you?"
I replied, "It's nothing. I'm the pack leader now, and we just received our property tax bill. I'm trying to figure out if it's better to pay it in one lump sum or break it down into smaller payments throughout the year. There's no interest, but I haven't determined if it would affect our pack taxes. Our property's value is over ten million dollars, and the property tax is currently 1.78%, so you can calculate the hefty sum we're talking about. It might provide deductions, or it might not; I'm still uncertain, as I haven't looked into it fully. I've also been learning about schools and education, and how incredibly expensive it will be."
Number Five whistled and responded, "That's a lot of money. Well, it's even more motivation for us to work hard, make more money, and make this work. We're in this together."
As I watched Mariela frolicking around Salvatore's, seemingly without a care in the world, I said to him, "I'd love to give the princess a little reality check, but she probably wouldn't get it, at least not right now. Sometimes, quite often actually, I just want to scream at her to wake up and face the damn reality. This isn't some fantasy reality show where everything is fine and dandy, and she can spend as much on Christmas trees as if there were an endless well of money."
Number five said, "Once we get home, let's give her a lesson. We'll include her in our little powwow about financial matters and see what she thinks. Will she run to Damon and call you a nasty, penny-pinching cow, or does she have a brain in her head? I doubt that, but anyway, have you talked about those taxes with Charles?"
I replied, "Nope, and I won't. Not during Christmas. I can feel his stress about everything as the pack leader, and I want him to have a good Christmas. So, I'm not going to worry him about this until after Christmas. I also need to work as much as I can because I don't have much time. These five growing inside me are going to put a strain on me sooner rather than later, and I'm soon out of my first official trimester. According to the doctor, a normal quintuplets pregnancy averages only 30 weeks, meaning at least six weeks shorter. That's a month and a half. My maternity leave could start very early if I develop a huge bump, which I will. That means I won't have many months to work."
He frowned and nodded, the doctor in him knowing the facts all too well. Since this wasn't one of our magical, short pregnancies where the babies would grow outside the womb immediately after birth to a normal size, it could mean the babies would be in the NICU for weeks or months in the worst-case scenario. I just couldn't know if energy transfer would help them, as this was a special situation. So, I had a lot to worry about, not just money, but my babies too.
As for Christmas, I could try, but there were just so many things to be considered and prepared for. It wasn't going to be a walk in the park, not at all. I had my guys backing me up, and most of us were doing absolutely everything we could to make this happen.
But I couldn't help but feel frustrated when not everyone had the slightest idea what this was all about. Every time I tried to talk about it, they seemed to gloss me over, saying that everything would be fine. But how in hell's name would they know? They could no longer see the future, so this blatant optimism was not something I shared.
Wulfe had found some nice blue spruces. They were shorter, so Mariella hadn't even looked at them, as she was focused on finding big and tall trees. However, for me and the girls, it would be wonderful to witness our trees growing yearly. They would be magically embedded in the floor, growing with our energies, and becoming a part of our pack, so to speak. We'd had this setup for well over a century in Halifax, so it was time to create another one. When the kids grew, the trees would grow with them, creating many happy memories.
Being married to fourteen husbands wasn't easy, and only about ten were truly with me in this, acting as a family. Mariella, too, was married to the same men, but she currently had five or fewer, choosing who she wanted at any given time, preferably those who would be with me.
However, the Salvatores, despite our little setbacks, had found their spines again and did what they wanted, refusing to be Mariella's "pussyslaves" and worshiping only her. They genuinely wanted a life with me, with all its complications and rewards. They loved to check the little plastic dolls representing my babies and see how much they'd grown and what they could do.
Of course, Mariella wanted Damon to see through the spell, but it didn't provide the same picture. In her belly, it was dark, and the fetuses were more or less blobs in bags. For us, though, we had an idea of what they could do, and it was wonderful to do this the way humans do, without always resorting to magic or other forms of what I considered cheating.
It would soon be time to go home. The trees would be delivered tomorrow, and then the Salvatores would put them up. I had promised the girls they could decide where our trees would be, not just Mariella.
I would be busy with my financial things, as I had to prepare for yet another few busy days in the shop. I wasn't sure if I would even open my shop tomorrow, on Saturday, too, as Christmas was approaching, and it was a busy time for me.