I receive an invite to Peaches' graduation, but I have to decline. I'm otherwise occupied.
By this.
And this.
Which leads to this.
Which leads to this.
Annnd then, leads to this. And as you can see, Mr. Broke is not impressed.
As for me, I'm still very unimpressed with my new hairstyle. And my wrinkles.
I ask Skip to leave, so I can get to work on making my very first dish of Ambrosia.
Drat! It tastes divine, but all it does is bump me back a few days, to the beginning of my Adult life stage. This will not do. No. not. at. all. Too little, too late. Yes, I'm vain, I admit it. But if I don't have to age, then sure enough I can figure out how to be a young adult. There must be another way!
The next day, while Brontë is at school, I head to the library. I'm looking for an old book, one on the history of Riverview. I finally find it, and skim through the heavy tome, thinking all is lost, that I'm destined to have these laugh lines and crow's feet forever.
But no, there it is, right near the back. Mention of a mysterious potion, aptly named Young Again. But it cannot be discovered, or made. Only purchased for a large sum.
A sum which I do not have.
I head home, defeated, while a little voice whispers in my ear.
But you do have the money, Lola. Use the money you're saving for the house.
True, I'd survived here all this time already. And I'm only three children away from my next 50K. But I've already told Brontë the plan, and I can't break her little heart. My dream house has come on the market. And if I wait, it will never be mine.
I'll have to suffer until I give birth to my tenth child. Then I'll be able to afford to buy the potion.
* * *
It's not long before I discover my afternoon with Skip was a success.
The other half of me decides I have a death wish.
* * *
Kind of ironic how fashion is cyclical.
Aurelia turns up to visit wearing a maternity dress that belongs on Anne of Green Gables, much like the only one I could afford when I was pregnant with Adelaide.
We visit, and she lets me feel my grandchild kick. Of course, her stomach is still as flat as a board, and I long for the days I could hide a pregnancy so well. But it only makes me wish I could tell her that I suspect I'm expecting, too. But I'll wait until I have confirmation.
I'm outside the real estate office, keys in hand, when my bump decides to announce itself. Perfect timing. We're all packed and ready--tonight is our last night in the little green house. First thing tomorrow, we're moving to the new house. Brontë is so excited to have her very own bedroom. I've promised she can pick out any paint color she wants.
The next morning, we pack the last of our things, and say goodbye to our little house. I look at the garden, sad that I am leaving behind the plants I have spent years cultivating. But I have harvested every plant I can, and this garden will now bless someone else. I will plant my seeds at our new home, and watch them grow again.
Farewell, little green house. You hold so many precious memories. Memories of my first seven children. But now we're moving on, to a new house, to new memories.
Yet as we drive, I am still a little sad.
We cross Long Island, and head toward the rural side of town, and eventually we pull up in front of our new home. My dream home, with the yellow siding and blue trim, and the barn converted to a garage and space for a huge garden.
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| Lower level floorplan |
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| Upper level floorplan |
Brontë is thrilled. All I have told her up to this point is that she'll like the house. But by her squeals, I think I've exceeded her wildest dreams. And finally I smile.
We head inside, and I think I'm doing fine...
...but then I break down, and my daughter doesn't understand what's wrong.
"It's hormones," I say without thinking.
And just like that, before I'd planned to, I'm announcing to my baby girl that she will no longer be my baby. In a few short months, she will not only be an aunt, but a big sister.
She's excited. Thrilled, she runs up stairs to figure out where the baby will sleep, and races back down to hug me when she realizes the nursery is right next to her room.
* * *
Aurelia goes into preterm labor, and the cause is not discovered until birth. Triplets (again!--save the fertile myrtle* jokes, already)--two boys, named Helmut and Taurus, and a girl, named Charity. They're early, and appear mostly healthy, but won't be released from the hospital for some time. It's flu season, and the hospital won't allow anyone but immediate family to visit. As a grandparent, I'm excluded.
It makes me sad, but I'm doing okay until I hear Aurelia crying on the phone. Little Helmut has contracted an infection, and the doctors aren't sure he's going to make it. The phone rings again late at night, and I know before I even answer it.
Helmut has passed away.**
Charity and Taurus continue to grow, and within a few more weeks, they come home, just in time for Christmas.
Arden and Kenji announce they're expecting via a cute Christmas card, and meanwhile, we count down the weeks until Adelaide's due date.
She welcomes triplets, too! A son, named Alexis, and two daughters, Nikita and Becky. They are full term (for trips, anyway) and healthy. Very soon, I will have had more grandchildren than children. I need to get a move on.
* * *
I keep busy in the garden. It's the only thing that keeps my anxiety down. I've been blessed thus far, with healthy, term pregnancies. And now the fear gnaws at me. What if I end up with a preemie, or preemies, like Aurelia? What if, what if, what if.
Aurelia calls occasionally, and puts on a brave front. I try to get her to open up, but she's as stoic as ever. I know she's struggling with jealousy over the fact that Adelaide's babies were healthy, that she was able to take all three home with her, but she won't admit it, so I let her pretend. Maybe she needs to fake it until she makes it.
I ask her if we can meet, if I can see my grandbabies, but understandably, she's paranoid about germs. She won't allow anyone into her house, and she's become something akin to a shut-in. Even Brandt is forced to shower and change before he's allowed inside to see his children. I'm trying not to worry, but I'm starting to fear my daughter needs professional help. Brandt asks me to give her time, and I relent. He knows her best. And I've never lost a child. I need to let her grieve the only way she knows how.
Before long, Peaches and August announce they, too, are starting a family.
On hearing the news, Brontë is over the moon excited. August always was her favorite, and she just adores Peaches. She spends most of her free time with her own special doll, and I wonder if she already knows that she can turn Gemini into a sim, or if I'll eventually have to tell her.
Brontë ages up to a teen while I'm out, and of course I feel terrible for forgetting her birthday. She rolls the Loner trait--why am I not surprised? For her birthday, she asks if I can please, please, please make her the potion that will turn Gemini into a sim.
Knowing how the relationships with my other children have turned out, I'm reluctant. But I feel guilty, and I give in. As a new teen, they'll probably just be friends. I don't need to discover the potion, as August had given me an extra before he'd moved out.
Sigh. Looks like it's time I give these two a talk. Not a talk, but the talk.
* * *
But before we can sit down to have that little chat, I go into labor.
And I get my wish. Triplets, and a bonus big enough to cover the very large sum required to purchase the potion.
Ballantyne, with the Virtuoso and Good traits.
Carlisle, with the Friendly and Slob traits.
And Catalina, with the Friendly and Athletic traits.
The next day is Saturday, and I leave the triplets under the care of Brontë and Gemini while I head to the salon to purchase the potion. As soon as I drink it, I'll be giving myself a makeover.
Old me, here I come!
*AN: In the interest of full disclosure, I gave my first four children the fertility treatment LTR before they moved out. My little experiment to see what would happen if I left them to EA's progression--obviously, it works. Ahem. A little too well.
**AN: After losing TWO grandchildren to stupid EA progression in two (human) days, I'm fed up enough to go back to Twallan's SP. The only reason I removed my mods and CC in the first place was because of bad CC and exception raised errors.
**AN: After losing TWO grandchildren to stupid EA progression in two (human) days, I'm fed up enough to go back to Twallan's SP. The only reason I removed my mods and CC in the first place was because of bad CC and exception raised errors.
