I was sitting on my bed; it was now Saturday afternoon, almost evening, and I'd gotten home a few hours earlier. I'd kept my shop open from 8 AM to 4 PM, and it had been busy. Not just for me, but also for Wulfe, Number Five, and Number Four, who were with me. They did the heavy lifting, preventing me from straining myself. They also arranged bouquets, talked with customers, and made sales, clearly enjoying themselves.
Wulfe liked to sell my crystals and show off his magic. Number Five charmed almost everyone into buying more than they'd planned. Number Four, however, kept a watchful eye on me, like a hawk, making sure I ate, sat down, and took it easy. He was also quite jealous, making a show of it by kissing me, touching my bump, and crooning whenever too many males were in the shop. The crones, of course, found this hilarious and spent hours drinking coffee, buying baked goods, and chatting with Wulfe or Salvatore.
I was under control, but I had to keep my mind focused, or else I'd have my telepathic husbands and my strong telepathic soulmate digging into my mind. They kept me from worrying too much. So, I hid my worries and anxieties for now, promising myself some time to mull them over later.
I was just now pouring over my finances when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah, what is it?" I called out, assuming it was one of the Salvatores.
The door opened, and Mariella peeked in at me, with Number One and Two behind her.
"I was just wondering what hell you are doing. We have gotten the trees in place, and the girls are already decorating them. Are you wearing glasses?"
I was. I had my little invention on; they were glasses, but they had a nifty AI algorithm. I also had a little neural transponder in my temple, meaning my thoughts controlled the data feed on the glasses. It sounded fancy, but it took some doing for me to learn to use them.
They were originally designed for disabled people, helping paralyzed people to write and communicate. These were just a few little gadgets that Leah, one of our hacker team had given me.
I said, "Yeah, they're not glasses to make me see better; they're a sort of extra display. No need for me to open a million tabs on my laptop."
Damon walked in, noticed the neural implant, and asked, his voice calm but tense, "Let me guess. Fleas or Colin?"
I said, "Fleas. I've had this setup for a few years now, but I've never bothered to calibrate it fully, as it takes a little mental programming. But I've now gotten it to work somewhat."
"Damon," I began, intending to give Mariella a lesson, "why don't you and the guys go check on the girls? They're decorating the trees, and it's your job to put the star on top. Make sure they don't fall. The Salvatores are cooking, and I can show Mariella how my glasses work."
Damon furrowed his brow, his mouth tightening into a thin line as he said slowly, "Fine. You seem hellbent on getting rid of us. If you want a girl-on-girl talk, fine. But we will be back. And those glasses... I can't wait to test them."
As the men left, Mariella walked over and sat on my bed, looking unsure. "What was that all about? Why did you send them away?"
I took off my glasses and said, "I know you trust Damon, and you do, but it's paramount you be aware of the facts. I might seem overly worried about the future, but let me show you a few things. Now, what do you know about the school system in the USA and Minnesota?"
She was quiet for a moment, then said, "Not much. Kids go to school, there are different kinds of schools, and you graduate. It's not cheap for everyone."
I rolled my eyes, trying to condense my little lesson. "Well, school is mandatory. One can be homeschooled, but for supernaturals, it's not so easy, as there are certain requirements regarding education and controlling one's powers and abilities. There are schools for supernaturals, several of them, and they're not cheap. A semester can cost $35,000. In a year, there are two semesters. And since school takes many years, it's expensive as hell. I have allocated a million for both of us, in tuition, but it's not going to cut it, not entirely."
Mariella said, "But surely, it will. There are surely cheaper schools. And by the way, why exclude Damon from this? He is a father; he should have a say too."
I said, "One million for all of the kids... It doesn't guarantee he won't knock you up again. Now, preschool can start at the age of three, and it's not maybe quite so expensive at the start. But just think: three kids, one year costs per kid $70,000. Three kids a year makes $140,000. A million isn't going to last even ten years, and those costs might be more. And if there is another litter, even more so."
Mariella furrowed her brow. "So we need to save upfront, right?" she asked.
I nodded and added, "That's not all. Now comes the hard part: choosing a school. Some schools have waiting lists of up to five years, meaning your children might not get in for that long, if ever. Other schools have shorter waiting lists, but then there's the question of their curricula, their ethics, what they stand for, and the other associated costs. Then there's the distance. Your kids will be going to a magical school, but it's not like Harry Potter at all. Here, let me show you."
She shuffled closer, her mouth pursed as she processed the information.
She asked, "Again, why exclude Damon?"
I replied, "Damon loves you, shelters you, and if he were here right now, he'd send you away so you wouldn't have to worry. He'd make the decisions himself, or make me do them. He's also volatile, meaning that one minute he's all business and ready for this, but when things get hard, he loses interest. Funnily enough, that's not how the other Salvatores work. Number five is obsessed with this stuff. He wants to know everything, every damn penny I have. I had a bit of action in my shop today, not that kind of action, as I had several Salvatores plus Wulfe there with me, but we had a good day, made a nice amount of money too. Those boys know how to sell."
I opened a website for one magical school and let her browse it. She soon pursed her lips when I opened a tab listing their values and ethics. It was a Christian school, meaning that despite the magic, their ideology was that magic was a gift from God, and Jesus and the Bible were very important, as were all Christian values.
Mariella snapped, "Not this. I'm not sending my girls to be brainwashed. Next."
I showed her the next school. It was less religious, but they believed in the importance of a healthy body, sports, and activity. After-school activities would give the children extra points.
Mariella shook her head, saying, "Consider me awakened. Now it's time to get Damon involved."
I showed her the next school. It was fine, not too religious or sports-oriented, but it was a boarding school, a five-hour drive away, and expensive, as boarding significantly increased the costs. As it meant the students would live on campus and only be home for holidays, it was out of the question. She was getting riled up.
After the next school, which wasn't a boarding school, and wasn't too expensive, overly religious, or focused on sports, there was a six-year waiting list. By the time she noticed this, her mood worsened.
Finally, the door opened, and Damon, along with numbers two, six, and eight, entered. Mariella began describing the different schools to Damon, who listened with an increasingly furrowed brow. Mariella ranted and raved about how impossible it was to find the perfect school, and no matter how much Damon tried to calm her down, she wouldn't let him make the decisions, as she knew now.
Damon said to me, through our bond, "Nice going, baby, you had to rile her up then?"
I replied, "She deserves to know; it's not just your haphazard decision regarding your and her kids' education. She's a mother, therefore she must know."
Damon rolled his eyes. Number six approached me to sit beside me as I was now checking one possible school for my five.
He asked out loud, "And are you going to include us in your decision-making?"
My answer was, "If you want to. Four, five, nine, and ten are already involved. They've checked out schools, and we're still looking through these; nothing is certain yet."
My bedroom had undergone a color scheme change, now featuring light blue, white, and light green, but heavy, almost black, dark red velvet curtains reaching the ground made it feel more like a nest than a room for a normal human. I had my little quirks, like two different bedside tables, a habit I'd picked up from Adam, and thick, soft rugs that were wonderful to walk on. I also had a fireplace in my room, as it wasn't too small, and I usually kept my door closed as I wanted my own peace.
I could sense something coming from Damon as he noticed the little things in my room, and I knew he and Mariella had their own room, like a couple. Sure, Wulfe might hang around in my bedroom, and I'd had some wild times there, but this was mine, not ours.
Something in Damon's eyes warned me that he might want to change that, and sooner rather than later. Mariella was still checking schools, and now a few Salvatores were also coming to my large bed to see them on my laptop.
Damon stood motionless, lost in thought. I could see the slight furrow between his eyes, and I remembered how I used to stroke it, trying to ease his worry. *Bah*, that was in the past. One shouldn't dwell there but focus on the present. With Adam and Charles away for two weeks, and home only for week, I would be the pack leader more often and longer time. "Yay," I thought sarcastically.
Of course, I was ready, but then again, raising babies and being pack leader wouldn't be a perfectly calm and tender time, given my temper. But this was life, and I was ready for it, however it would end up.
After a few minutes, Damon spoke calmly, "Darlin', why don't you take the boys and get us some good laptops? Take the girls and start looking at these magical schools. I want you to list our options so we can discuss our goals."
Mariella looked at Damon, surprised, but something was communicated between them telepathically, or otherwise.
She crawled out of bed with the Salvatores and said to me, "Thanks, Mimi, for bringing this to my attention. I'm a mother, not just a doll, so I get to have a say too."
She glared at Damon, who remained calm, seemingly unfazed by her barb.
Meanwhile, I was knee-deep in my finances, trying to figure out the best option. I could stay at home and get benefits, or place the kids in preschool or kindergarten. But which was financially better? It wasn't easy to calculate and decide, as my heart wanted to be with the kids, but money was a concern. It was almost impossible to decide right now, but I wanted some idea so I could mull things over.
"Don't shut me out, baby," Damon said softly, walking to sit next to me. "I'm their father, I know I haven't been great yet, but don't exclude me from the decision-making process. We're in this together. I can and I will help financially and practically. I can be at home and care for the kids too. I know I've been all over Mariella and haven't paid attention to anything, and I can't fix everything, but let me try. Talk to me, what's bugging you?"
I sighed and said, "I've reserved a million for tuition for myself and another million for Mariella. However, it's not enough. We have about 23 million, but when you calculate it, and divide that by 13 years and then among all of us, it's a small sum. I know we have meat and wood, and we aren't broke yet, but we're not exactly rich either. Our property tax is 1.87 percent or something similar, and this house is listed at just over 15 million, so the yearly taxes are huge. Cars don't last forever, kids will grow, and tuition costs will rise. And even the mere act of giving birth is concerning; I might give birth at 30 weeks or even earlier. Since this isn't our norm al flash pregnancy, I suspect energy transfer isn't going to cut it. My five might end up in the NICU, and the bills will be astronomical, over ten thousand dollars. My insurance won't cover that much. What I get from Finland is only about 30% of the true costs, what they approve, again, not too much. I should stay fit and healthy and work hard to ramp up my maternity benefits as high as I can, not endanger our little ones, and hope like hell I can keep them inside me long enough to avoid the NICU."
Damon was silent, pondering.
Finally, he said, "Mimi, I understand, I do. Everything you're saying is absolutely correct. But let me help. Tell me what you need. Give me something to do. I feel so damn helpless. I know you have a lot on your mind and there are many things neither of us can do anything about yet, but please, let me in."
I sighed, removed the neural implant from my temple, leaned back, and said, "There isn't that much for you to do. Go be with Mariella. These are just my calculations, my estimations, and so many things can and probably will change. I'm just trying to see how long I can stay at home, and how much our financial situation can handle. Like I said, there are too many variables for me to get anything certain yet, but you know me, well maybe you don't, but this is me, always making a backup plan and then a backup plan for that."
Damon sat near me and said, "Show me, include me. Let's see what we can come up with together. And for the schools, I'm in, baby. I want to see what's available for our five. I won't let you put them in some Christianity-preaching school."
He smirked. I opened my calculations and explained my predicted earnings and the benefits they would yield. I also outlined the costs we needed to consider, such as clothes and supplies, even i had reserved lot of clothes for kids, one could never know and if they were take a hobby, it might bring its own costs.
However, I wasn't sure if Damon could handle the costs of the children's insurance and vaccinations. He promised to look into it, specifically the legality of him taking them to their doctor, and whether any laws might prevent it, as that could lead to significant savings.
As I described how other Salvatores had accounted for their children's education, he decided to contribute as well. Again, he suggested that he or another Salvatore could be part-time at home, or maybe the girls could, eliminating the need for early education and allowing us to keep the kids home as long as possible. Of course, I was concerned about their development. Would it be better for them to interact with other children instead of staying home?
Damon said, "Baby, you can't and shouldn't control every little thing. They're still inside you, smaller than limes. We have no idea what they'll be like – their powers, their dispositions. Stop planning years ahead, missy. It seems like you haven't slept in ages, and you're having another bout of MNDS, right?"
I replied quietly, focusing on my calculations, "It's not that bad; I just have a lot on my mind."
Damon pressed, "Spit it out! Tell me. Come on, I won't stop until you do."
He took my laptop, closed it, cleared my bed, and pulled me next to him, petting me and crooning in a soft voice, "Come on, out with it, show me."
He was there, close, and he kept me safe, so I showed him. I let him see everything, every freaking nightmare.