As I sat in my chair, awaiting the doctor's return with the final paperwork so we could finally leave, the babies were cooing and eager to go, despite already being strapped into their stroller. We had been here for twelve days, with me bedridden for eight. Though I was not yet fully recovered, we were clear of the pathogen and had developed robust immunity, so we were cleared to leave.
Yesterday had been a hectic day, with physical therapists, occupational therapists, and others assessing both me and my toddlers. They were surprised to see them walking and attempting to talk, albeit with a limited vocabulary. They were also quite skinny, as was I. However, the nutritionist had provided me with extensive dietary advice and suggestions, essentially telling me to eat as much as possible.
Since my intestinal tract had partially atrophied, significant healing was still underway, which meant I couldn't absorb everything from food. Therefore, I'd need to consume a lot more to gain weight. Since our pack was still at the hotel and our house wasn't fully ready, we were embarking on a road trip, and I already had a plan in motion.
My plan involved more than just driving. I had shared it with Charles, who approved, and soon the Salvatores were also aware, and suggestions began pouring in. My simple plan was to purchase cheap houses with a few bedrooms, providing places to rest during road trips for whoever we might bring along, or to rent them out.
This idea sparked immediate action from the Salvatores. First, the top two wanted to find a suitable evaluator to assess potential properties, provide renovation suggestions, and estimate rental yields. Then, decisions would be made as a pack. I had also been instructed to find us houses or apartments in the city, providing us with options.
The situation was a little overwhelming, as I was constantly receiving telepathic input from relieved pack members, offering suggestions for my plan, on top of the demands of the therapists and doctors. I was recovering, and it was exhausting. I had slept for twelve hours straight. Today, we were either going home or embarking on our trip, armed with a stack of papers to review and use to determine my next steps.
When it came down to it, Wulfe had brought me up to speed, explaining that number one was still learning, even though Charles had made him a partial pack leader. My alpha side was brimming with nasty ideas. I was the alpha female, but I now understood the true extent of leading the pack and the immense amount of work it entailed.
Now, I could feign innocence and dump my benefit schedule, work hours, and the babies' latest nutrition plan in his lap. Since Charles had reviewed everything and Damon wanted to be the leader, it would be perfect. He wouldn't have time to harass me or mess with my kitchen and babies, because I would keep him busy with his leader duties.
I had already convinced Charles of this. I had presented it more clinically, but he had agreed that it was important for Damon to learn the ins and outs of his new role. This wasn't the same as past situations; this was a pack, but also a family, and the responsibilities were plentiful.
A voice from the door jarred me out of my ideation. "Hello, I'm the physical therapist. I was just checking a few things with you. The doctor will be with you soon, but here's our suggestion on how to help your toddlers regain their full mobility and onward. As you know, they're much more active than human toddlers and might develop much faster, so exercise should be encouraged. I don't mean anything too serious or strenuous, but here's a booklet of exercise games, activities, and the like. It helps them when the terrible twos hit, meaning a good bout of exercise acts like a course, calming them down, burning off excess energy, and giving them an appetite, which makes it easier for them to sleep. Here are instructions on how often and how much. This booklet is for when they are fully fit, and this is for the recovery phase. Now, I wouldn't have them do anything extra yet, in two weeks or so. A normal walk, play, or what they can manage is okay, but bear in mind they might get overtired easily."
I nodded and said, "Yeah, I was planning a road trip with them. I'm planning to seek out toddler-friendly activities for us, and I have my strollers with me, so they won't have to walk too much; we're still recovering, taking it easy. This is very useful."
She nodded and handed me an even thicker pile of paper; it was an actual book. She was tall and fit, with brown hair in a tight ponytail, a plain face, and a friendly manner. Her uniform was light blue, and her name tag read "Janet Montgomery, Physical Therapist." She was eager and epitomized what one might expect when hearing the words "physical therapist," yet she was just human, and I kept my expression neutral. I could outperform her in this state in my sleep, but right now, I was focused on being a good customer for her.
She said, "And this is for you. Again, you are quite fit, skinny, but you've got muscles – or had them. Here is movement for you, too: gentle at first, stretching, just warming up. As you go, you can go further, but take it easy. You burn a hell of a lot of calories as it is. And here in this book, there are estimates, counted for a metabolism like yours, of how much each of them costs, so you have an idea of what to do and for how long."
I was surprised, as this was a children's hospital, but then again, they had told me they usually took care of the whole family. I would have to keep this book hidden. Oh my god, I could almost hear number four preaching to me about how many calories I had burned and what I should eat.
I said, "Thank you. It's good to have books like this. My body is my temple, and when it is fit, it is a finely honed one. But I had never delved into anything official. I've had coaches, but this helps too, and that calorie thing especially."
She smiled and then encouraged babies to perform various movements: walk, sit, get up, roll, and get up from a supine position – little things, just to see how they fared. I was just mapping our plan ahead, meaning I was checking on my phone for suitable spots for toddlers and putting them into my route planner.
I had no actual route in mind; it was building up as we would drive on, and maybe I might drive a few days in a row sometimes, as the babies could sleep easily in their seats. Not being sure about anything gave me a sense of freedom, an adventure of sorts, something I hadn't gotten in these last two years, as I had everything so damn organized and fluid.
So I realized that having a road trip from time to time might benefit me, too. Sure, as the babies would grow, I might have a change of heart, but for now, I was ready for our next step. Family life beyond that, well, I had my own ideas, but I also knew that in the future there was a looming, inevitable confrontation with my rage, me and Damon, and I would just have to try to do something about that so it would not tear this family apart anymore.
Now was the time to plan my purchases, though the other matters could wait. I had my five-seater pram, but I would also need travel beds for the babies, so they could either stay in the beds at each house or always be packed with me. It was actually fun to make these choices for everyday little things and problems, nothing too big or pack-altering, just for my babies and me. I could feel in the hive how much everyone was missing me, as well as my babies, but I let them.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and they would be living in a hotel for at least a few days. And this would be a lesson for Damon, who was the one who got my babies sick enough to need ventilators; he was callous enough not to care and selfish enough to decide to have a crisis right now. It was his fault, though not entirely.
He had brought the pathogen into our wing, and oh my god, as Number Four rattled off new hygiene rules, updating our floor-mopping schedule and the cleaning products we used. Everything had to be antibacterial now, and he was also going to issue bacterial sweeps from time to time, while Wulfe would have to cast a strong spell in the doorways, killing off all the germs that might come in via shoes and other things.
So, they took this hell seriously; I guess seeing my babies on ventilators, fighting for their lives, had shocked them all. Finally, it was time to move out.
As I pushed the strollers along the hallways and out of the hospital, it was the start of June. The sun shone brightly on us as we headed across the parking lot to our car, which had been cleaned too, as if it were a sign. It was time to have some fun.
I was going to play music, and a lot of it; not just baby music, but my songs, which I had listened to while pregnant. I had noticed earlier that they liked certain ones, so I had a long list of songs ready for us. It would be fun to see who liked what song and how much their tastes differed; would my twinsies like the same songs or not?
Having no fear of singing out loud, I often made babies giggle and coo, especially when they were awake at the start of our trip. My current quest was to find the perfect house, and thankfully, I had time. I wasn't rushing to the nearest real estate agent to buy a house immediately.
However, before I could focus on finding a home, I needed to shop for the babies. While they still had clothes, I needed travel cribs, bibs, plates, and other mealtime essentials. Loading five babies into a stroller and attempting to shop simultaneously, while keeping them calm, seemed like quite the challenge. Managing strollers and a shopping cart would be tricky, but I was up for it. It would be a change of pace, and I was curious to see just how difficult shopping could be.
As I parked the car in the parking lot of a huge mall, I started to question if I was pushing myself too hard. We had been driving for several days, often sleeping in the car. But I had just purchased our first house, a tidy three-bedroom suburban home. It was partially furnished, with rugs and other items, but there wasn't much in the way of baby sleeping arrangements, as the house had previously been shared with college students. Although they weren't messy, it wasn't ideal.
So, here I was, preparing to enter the largest children's store nearby, figuring it would offer the best selection for five babies. Smaller shops might not have the suitable options. The children were already excited, and they started to get cranky as I strapped them in.
They wanted to walk, but I wasn't in the mood to let them wander around. I gave them pacifiers, hoping the overwhelming experience of shopping would distract them from their desire to walk and assert their independence. This was my sincere hope.
I must admit I drew a lot of attention. With five cranky babies, constantly dropping pacifiers and starting to babble, I was already struggling barely inside the huge mall. All I had to do was find that damn kids' store before the wailing escalated.
Sadie, who was sitting alone while the others were beside each other, was trying to open her safety belt. I groaned inwardly as her tiny hands worked eagerly. I hoped the locking mechanism was too stiff for her. Then, she tried to slouch down and get loose, as there was no belt coming between her legs.
"Please, Sadie, don't do that. Come on now," I pleaded, pulling her upright and trying to offer her a pacifier.
Her brow furrowed, and her lip quivered. I stopped, unhooked her, and picked her up. Pushing the other babies with one hand, I realized Sadie was not happy. She focused on pulling my ear, or my hair, and trying to shove her tiny fingers in my eye. Oh, my god, I sighed in my mind, fine.
I let her down, took her tiny arm, and let her walk a bit. They had shoes on, and she wanted her hand free; she grabbed the stroller and started pushing it. Oh, really? People were smiling at us as our pace slowed. She pushed the stroller with both hands and was stubborn, keeping on going. Fine, maybe she would tire out, eventually. We had time.
"My love, want to see how our trip is going?" I asked telepathically to one of my husbands, Damon Salvatore number five.
His reply was amused and longing, too: "Sure, baby, show me. Oh god, I miss you; I am so close to getting in the car and driving to you. But we are still stuck in this damn hotel, and we have no cars around, as we got here by cab."
I showed him, saying pretty dryly, "She was about to throw a tantrum, didn't want to be in my arms, but wanted to push the stroller. We are trying to go to the kids' store to buy travel beds for them."
Number five said, "Oh, baby, once this is over, I am going to take you shopping. I want to witness this, too."
I said to him telepathically, but my sarcasm was evident: "It wouldn't be so bad if I weren't alone, and I would have five of these right now. The boys are planning whether they too want to try the same tactic to get walking. I hope they stay put."
He was amused. I could feel it, and he sent me his true love, as well as smugness, as he was amused by my situation, and I knew that he was going to share it with the rest of the pack. Fine, what could I do, other than hope I would get this damn shopping trip done for?