I was happily preparing lunch boxes for the girls and Adam. They were going to manage the shop and deliver most of our wedding flowers. I was thrilled; it was done! It was a huge order that I had completed, boosting my reputation.
The nurse hadn't arrived yet; to my surprise, Damon had called her and taken Mariella and the girls, so she was busy. It was postponed a few weeks, which wasn't a huge deal since Damon was a doctor.
Wulfe had been with me; we had a few, quite raunchy nights, three of them. Then Damon, the fourth, noticed and put Wulfe on baby-caring duty, meaning taking care of Mariella's extremely cranky three princesses who upset easily. But fine, at least I had gotten some.
Last night, I had piled up the lunch boxes with dinner: thinly sliced horse, cooked tiny potato cubes, salad, and mozzarella-filled chicken breasts. I added some candies and fruit cubes, wrote everyone a little note, and closed the boxes. I left them on the counter; they were labeled, or everyone knew whose box was whose.
Now, I was planning to do laundry again. I had become rather sly about it and hadn't really thought too much about it, as I had always found suitable time for myself. The Salvatores weren't so much into cooking, as we had plenty of food in the freezer. They made sure that, at least for dinner, I was eating as I should, and I gained some weight.
The babies, my babies, had been home for a little over three weeks, and they had grown. The boys had reached three pounds, and Sadie was almost a three-pounder too. The twins were slower, but they gained weight as well. I had spent time with them, well, what I had.
There was almost always some other pack member with me: either Wulfe, or Lepard, Demon, Adam, Charles, or some of the Salvatores. But I got to just sit there in the dim light, letting my tiny babies be with skin-to-skin contact, as at least my breasts were no longer so sore, as it seemed that the efforts of several Salvatores had told my body there was no chance in hell to make milk.
As for Mariella, I had no idea; they had been in their little room for about five days, and there were quite a few Salvatores there, but not nine or ten. They were stuck on me like damn burdocks.
Being a wife was a new experience for me. Last night, I had some free time while Wulfe was on the nightshift. I headed to my bedroom, my cooking shows queued up and ready to go. I started watching "Worst Cooks of America" from the beginning. Suddenly, Nine and Ten, who had also been on the day shift, walked in and plopped down next to me.
We watched the show together. Their dry comments made me giggle, and I enjoyed watching them learn the perfect eye rolls. Nine's desperation when someone held a knife wrong or nearly set the kitchen ablaze was hilarious. Instead of any seduction, we just watched the show. I eventually nodded off and woke up around 6 AM when they got up to feed the babies.
My mind was racing, but I felt less insecure, or perhaps just too busy, to indulge my neurosis. I wasn't sure. Now, it was 8:30 AM, and I had just finished making lunch boxes. The girls and Adam were going to the shop, which was open from 10 AM to 4 PM, or sometimes less, to fulfill orders. More orders were sure to come, but I had some free time. I felt productive.
Wulfe walked in, yawning and looking exhausted. He came over and kissed me passionately, as he had been doing, showing me his affection more and more physically, and, if we were lucky, other parts of his body as well.
"God, I'm beat," he said. "Those damn princesses are insatiable! Five bottles a night, and three diaper changes, come on!"
"Well, babies are like that. They're still infants, so cluster feeding and whatnot," I replied. "Do you want breakfast, or do you want to go to bed? I slept last night, I mean, I was prepared to watch 'Worst Cooks in America' all night, and then Nine and Ten came over, and I just nodded off and woke up when they went to do the morning feeding."
"You need sleep," Wulfe smiled. "You know it. First, I'd like to take a few blood tests to check your enzymes, but after that, I can eat something and then head to bed. It's good that it's already warmed up."
He liked sleeping in my bed. We'd gotten even closer since I'd sent Mariella after Damon and the other Salvatores. Right now, Damon would be preoccupied with Mariella, leaving him less time to be overly jealous, while I could enjoy my soulmate and continue having fun.
"Please put your clothes in the laundry, I'll do a load later," I said, intentionally making it sound as dull as possible so I could have my fun.
I gave Wulfe his tray from the fridge while I put my lunch meats in the oven, as well as my bones. I had huge, thick buffalo thigh bones split in two, ready for roasting, and some were for making stock.
A soft voice called from the door as my back was turned, "Hello, baby, what's on the agenda today? I heard laundry. Fine, we'll help you. Funny thing, Wulfe, did you know that Number Five here recalls doing laundry here before, but it's very vague, and he has no idea where the laundry room is?"
Wulfe rolled his eyes and said to me, "Really, Mimi, my love? You've used your blood again, naughty girl. Fine, I'm up for doing some laundry too."
Oops, I was busted, but I was trying to save face. "It's just laundry, besides, I was hormonal at the time and not entirely in my right mind. It's nothing special, Damon. Since you're here, I was thinking of making stock from these buffalo bones, as they are ready, and I'll roast some too. Do I need to add anything?"
Damon walked up to me and looked at my preparations. Mariella was in the kitchen as well. She looked pale and tired, not smelling as strongly of sex as one might expect. Fine.
"I'll handle the stock," Damon declared, "You take care of the oven-ready dishes. That saves time, and then we can get to roasting. I'll organize everything, and we'll make a meal for everyone. I'll even give you something to help put meat on your bones, but that's after we've done laundry. I need to see what's involved so I can make our list of who does what."
"But... but you're not the pack leader," I said aloud.
Charles's soft voice came from right behind me.
"He's not the full-time pack leader yet, but he is my co-leader. He can assign our duties, so honey, you don't have to do everything yourself."
I turned to Charles, surprised to see a glint in his eyes. Mariella looked wary of him. "Really?" I thought, recalling a few instances where Charles had shown me just how ruthless he could be. "Fine," I conceded.
As Adam and the girls entered the kitchen, I said, "Here are your lunchboxes. Send me information about any new orders, and if that Wellington guy from Ireland calls again. He's trying to rip me off, but I won't let him. Don't make any deals with him; he's crooked and needs to be handled differently."
Damon, number five, pressed his strong body against me. "Well, baby, maybe I should be the one talking to him. You're perhaps a little too... spry for him, but I guess I could calm you down as well."
His hand pressed on my liver, causing number one to smirk and raise an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.
Mariella walked up to the lunchboxes and opened them, examining their contents. "Damon, come and take a look. It's just lunch, but I'm not sure if this is ideal for them."
I rolled my eyes. Number five was still pressed against me, purring in my ear, "Oh baby, do you have some problems? Surely you could calm down a bit, too. We need to check on who is whose protector."
I replied, "Actually, we do know. Adam is for the boys, Leopard is for Mariella's girls, Demon is for mine, Adam, Charles, and Wulfe are Mariella's. Mariella is Charles', and you know me and the Salvatores."
He grunted in my ear, "Fine, good to know. But Damon, number one, has a knack for nutrition too, and being partially pack leader, he is doing his job. But baby, oh, I can't wait for us all to go and do the laundry. Surely there's a job for many, as the babies are using a lot of clothes too."
I didn't reply this time. I loved my laundry room, and tinkering there was my ultimate Zen thing. But it seemed I had to share. Well, let's hope the others will find it tedious and boring, leaving me to care for the laundry.
We were waiting for me to lead them to the laundry room. Damon had already searched the boxes, and Number Four, who was also present, had promised everyone blood tests at some point. I wasn't thrilled about the tests, but I could tolerate them if necessary.
I calmly started walking toward the door leading to the cellar floor. Despite his tiredness, curiosity had gotten the better of Wulfe, who walked beside me. It seemed my smugness and happiness were irresistible to the men around me.
Wulfe said, "My unicorn, I must admit, doing laundry has never sounded more sexy than it does now. Seeing your lithe body moving, almost dancing in front of me, makes something wake up in me."
I blushed. Wulfe, a vampire himself, was discovering how nice it was to have me, love me, and, well, you know. I rolled my eyes internally. The whole damn horde was now behind me as we walked down the stairs to the cellar floor.
I stopped by the spa section and said, "If you're unaware, there's a spa section here too."
But alas, everyone just peeked inside, then waited for me to lead them to the laundry room. I could feel Damon scanning my mind, and I had hidden my nightmares. They were still there, but I had buried them, hoping to get rid of them someday. I wasn't even sure where they stemmed from; my guess was a lack of trust, or perhaps my feline instincts. The fact remained: they were still there, and I hid them. Not wise, again, but that's just me.
I walked to the end of the corridor and opened the heavy, nondescript door. It was a large space with over ten washing machines, a few dryers, and looked almost like a laundry service business.
One wall had a stack of sacks closed by string, each a different color. Next to them were two large machines, a stack of laundry baskets, and a fancy-looking conveyor system installed in the wall. On another wall were five more large machines, a stack of baskets, and another conveyor belt, disappearing through the wall. In the back wall, three large dryers and one huge washing machine gleamed in their stainless steel.
There was a large cabinet lined with bottles and boxes of different washing supplies.
Damon walked in and said, "I see now why you kept this to yourself, but baby, no more. Now, you start doing your thing and explain what you are doing. I'll assign people, and Wulfe, you extract the information we need."
First, I went to the large machines near the sacks and grabbed a basket. I opened the machine and explained, "These are the baby machines. I've programmed them for baby clothes. This one, with the peach sticker, is yours, Mariella, and this one, with the pink sticker, is mine. The sacks indicate which clothes go where. A spell, crafted by the Magic House, sorts the clothes and puts them into the sacks."
I pointed to a sack, peach with a white string, and said, "That's for your babies, Mariella," and then to another, pink with a black string, "This one is mine." I continued, "I'm just emptying the last load now. These two machines are drying, so it takes longer. But we have a machine full of dry, ready-to-fold clothes."
As I was taking clothes out of the machine and putting them into the basket, Damon approached, opened my machine, and began emptying it. After emptying the machine, I showed them how one machine washes two sacks.
I instructed, "Next, grab the right sack, empty it into the machine, and then grab the next one. You need to leave about a hand's width of room at the top here."
Damon responded, "Okay, three and four, this is now your duty."
I showed them the settings while feeling Wulfe extracting the necessary information from my mind. Then, I went to my cabinet and grabbed my detergent and fabric softener.
I had used passionfruit-scented detergent for Mariella's babies, but she walked over and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, what a selection!"
I replied, "These are suitable for baby clothes, and you can pick and choose your scent or go scentless."
Damon also came by and chose lily-scented detergent for my babies and lilacs for Mariella's, allowing the Salvatores to look through them too.
Having lifted the full basket onto a large table, I said, "I'll fold them after I get my machines up and running. I usually take my time with this. This circle transports clothes from where they came. As I fold, I just put the pile here, and it goes away. Again, spells. But now, let's put some more machines on."
Next, I readied five large machines for adult washing. This time, my clothes were in a red sack, Mariella's were light blue, Salvatore's were black, Wulfe's were grey, and the girls had orange and yellow. With two sacks per machine, and since they weren't drying ones, the clothes were damp after I emptied them, needing to go to the drying room.
I lifted the basket to the conveyor, which transferred them there. Then, I would hang them after loading up my machines. Salvatore's were all over, emptying and filling the machines. I showed them how to use the spell for sorting different fabrics, meaning cotton, satin, and so on, so the washing could be sorted and put in the correct settings.
Damon was quite irritated by all of this. My large machines and dryers were meant for bedding and such. As Salvatores went to hang clothes in the drying room and sent dry clothes to be folded, his mood didn't improve. He was ordering Salvatore's around, and Wulfe was all over the place, but not upset. Mariella hung around one, but his arctic gaze seemed to follow me wherever I went, and I could feel his anger through our bond.
After doing the laundry, Damon informed me, "From now on, we boys do the laundry. Nice place you've got there, Mimi, but it's time we pull our weight too. You focus on baby care and whatnot, and we will see then what comes next."
There was a hint of rage in his voice. Something in the back of my neck knew it, but there was nothing I could do to stop or alleviate it; it was just what it was.
Little did I know that his impulsiveness and rage would once again combine in the worst possible way, creating a nasty cycle that would keep us separated for quite some time. He would miss most of my babies' milestones, as his mistakes proved too difficult for him to handle. Mariella, meanwhile, was using the situation to her advantage—or so she thought.
In reality, a real family life with ten overbearing Salvatores, four adult girls who were not keen on obeying Mariella, and the rift between Damon and me was no walk in the park. The pack would be split in two, and it would take a veritable crisis to bring us all together.