Chapter 3-9: Low is a Height

                Early the next morning, Verne had a stakeout at the local beach. He watched from behind his bushes as two sims whispered and exchanged money. “Honestly, do they really not see me,” he thought to himself. It was no wonder that crime in Twinbrook was on a low scale. The so called criminals were idiots!

                 “So Yalena, what are your plans this weekend,” Carrie asked her granddaughter that morning as she fed her cake for breakfast. One of the perks of being a grandparent was being able to do whatever you wanted with your grandkids. Cake for breakfast; no problem!

                 “Um, nothing,” Yalena hid her face in her cake.

                Carrie decided not to push it and just let Yalena keep her secrets for now. Another thing you learned as a grandparent was that when the kids were ready, they would always come to you. Pushing them before that always made them rebel.

                 Xanthe and Wren decided to head over to the local arcade to shoot some pool and play some games with their free time. When they arrived, what did they find but their baby sister singing karaoke to her heart’s content. They giggled to each other and rushed upstairs, before she saw them and got nervous.

                 At work, Carrie had just finished a make-over and was about to start another when the strangest feeling came over her. Before she could realize what was happening, the Grim Reaper was standing before her, calling her to afterlife.

                That was when she realized that she wasn’t ready to go. Shane had told her that her family needed her and she realized that it was true. With 6 children and full time jobs, who would take care of the toddlers?

                ‘Please, it’s not my time,” she pleaded, on her hands and knees.

                “Only I say when your time is and the clock has stopped ticking for you Carrie Avendale. You must come with me,” he replied.

                “No, please, what will they do without me,” she begged in front of the entire salon, aware that Vesper was there watching.

                 “Your family has known grief before. They will know grief again. You are just one of many in the circle of life,” and before she could protest further, she was whisked away to nothingness.

                With death, new life always comes again. Abrielle was discovering this as she threw up the contents of her breakfast a few weeks after Carrie’s funeral. “I thought Zane and Zarah would be the last,” she lamented, realizing that, as she grew older and her retirement age came nearer, she was ready to be away from diapers and bottles and excited for first dates, and proms, and teaching her children to drive. By the time this baby graduated high school, Abrielle would be old and gray and her older children probably having children of their own.

                 Zane and Zarah’s birthdays arrived faster than she anticipated. For the first time since adopting Wren, there were would be no babies or toddlers in the house. No screaming or crying, no soiled diapers and midnight feedings. And then, as she held her baby girl before her birthday cake, she realized that no babies meant no sweet baby smells, no cute giggles, and accidental raspberries and excitement for this new baby flooded her with joy.

                 Zarah grew into an almost exact replica of her mother. She insisted that she be allowed to wear pink and, when her parents protested telling her that redheads can’t wear pink, she replied as honestly and innocently as a child can.

                 “Who says that,” she countered.

                Verne and Abrielle looked at each other, wondering exactly who had decided that red hair and pink clothes simply didn’t go together and, it was decided that Zarah could wear what Zarah wanted to wear.

                Zane was another spitting image of his father and quiet like him as well. He was content just to play chess or study on his own, always doodling schematics in the corners of notebooks.

                “What are you reading,” Xander asked his sister as she sat across from him, engrossed in her book.

                “A book about expecting the best results. I am determined to be valedictorian,” she responded without looking up.

                 “Funny thing, valedictorian,” Xander answered. “There can only be one.”

                “Yes, that is the idea.”

                “Yeah, and that’s going to be me,” he said, frowning at his homework.

                 “Care to put a wager on that,” she challenged and so they bet money on each making the one, and only valedictorian spot.

                The next morning, Verne noticed that Thea looked rather glum at breakfast.

                “What’s wrong,” he asked her, fearing the worst.

                “Nothing. Well, nothing, really. Xander and I are each trying to win the spot of valedictorian and it sucks competing against family trying to make you guys proud.”

                “Thea, your mother and I are already proud of you. Anything beyond trying your best is just a bonus.” 

                 “He’s right Thea. We love you just the way you are,” Abrielle replied as she flipped the pancakes.

                After the kids left for school, Verne and Abrielle decided to take an afternoon ‘nap’. With all of the children in school and Verne having open work hours while she was on maternity leave meant that they could finally spend time alone together again.

                “I know I was resistant to having another baby awhile ago, but you truly are beautiful pregnant,” Verne admitted, admiring his wife, pregnant with another child.

                 All of the children were excited to welcome a new baby to the family. 

                  All except Wren it seemed but she refused to talk about what was bothering her. Every time Verne or Abrielle tried to talk to her, she excused herself from the table or went upstairs to do homework or complained of being tired and headed to bed.

                Then, finally early one morning, Abrielle clutched her stomach and groaned.

                “Oh, honey, me too. I’m starving,” Verne mimicked her.

                 “God, you’re an idiot,” Abrielle laughed. “You would think after three other pregnancies, you would be able to tell what labor pains are by now.”

                As had become routine, Verne took his wife to the hospital and went with her to the delivery room. Only, this time, things were not routine. Almost immediately after hooking her to the vital machine, the doctor noted some concerning patterns. And then, without warning, his beautiful wife went into cardiac arrest. He was rushed from the room so the doctor and his team could perform the necessary medical procedures without interference.

                Finally, the doctor came back out. Verne barely comprehended what the doctor was saying. All he knew was that his wife was gone. Something about heart problems and failure to resuscitate. He flopped into a chair, picturing Abrielle’s face in his mind as she laughed at him that morning. “Was it really just this morning that she was there, holding my hand?”

                 “Mr. Avendale?”

                “Huh, what,” Verne snapped back to reality.

                “I was just saying that your girls are ready to go home whenever you are. We have a grief counselor on staff if you need to speak with someone and if you need in-home help, we can work with you to arrange that.”

                His girls. He couldn’t decide whether to be dismayed or delighted. He knew how much she had wanted more babies and the idea that she had gotten them made him smile. But then, realizing that they were the reason she was gone, tore him up inside and he didn’t even want to look at them.

                Meet Ava, Aerilyn, and Ansley Avendale, the newest additions to the family. They were all girls but, upon arriving home, Verne realized that he could care less to reupholster the boy baby seat. That had been Abrielle’s area of expertise and really, who cared if a little girl had a blue swing? He sure as hell didn’t.

                 Shortly after coming home, Verne realized that caring for nine children was just beyond his realm of capability. It was hard enough looking at the triplets but trying to make sure the younger children had their homework done and the older ones acted their ages was just too much to even consider. He hadn’t been to work since the funeral and still barely managed to make it out of bed. He sat the older kids down and had an honest discussion with them.

                Boarding school seemed like the best option to ensure that they got a proper education and made the most of the rest of their teenage years. He quietly handed them brochures and treated them all like adults, giving them options. They all decided on LeFromage Art School and he silently nodded, showing his approval and went to enroll them.

                 Thea approached him quietly in the bedroom.

                “Daddy, I know we said LeFromage but, well, I really think I want to go to SmuggWorth. It’s more expensive so if we can’t afford it,” she stammered.

                “Honey, if that’s what you think is best, that’s where you’ll go,” he answered, realizing that he was letting his teenage daughter decide what was best as he sat idly by.

                “How could you do that,” Wren yelled at Thea.

                “Do what?”

                “Change your mind! We’re all supposed to be together,” Wren screamed, hurt that she would lose yet another family member.

                “Wren, mom would have wanted me to pick what’s best for me. I don’t care about art. I don’t want to go there. It would be a waste.”

                “Yeah, well she was my mom too,” Wren burst into tears and ran to her room.

                 The morning to leave for boarding school had finally arrived. In the weeks following his decision to send his oldest children away, Verne had wrestled with everything each night. Though he rarely left their bedroom, he barely slept, instead going back and forth about all the decisions that had deposited him in this nightmare of a scenario. He knew if Abrielle were here that she could somehow manage to care for all nine kids but he knew that he wasn’t her. Regardless of whether she would have chosen it, she wasn’t here and he had to do his best.

                 “Don’t forget, I love all of you. I’ll see you for holidays and special occasions. And we’ll talk every night.” And with those final words, he kissed Wren, Xander, and Thea goodbye as they climbed in the taxi that would take them to the next part of their journeys.

Chapter 3.8                                                                                                                                         Chapter 3.10

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Triplets...my God, she had triplets. I have never, ever had triplets in game and have no idea what I am doing. Not to mention that there are 6 other children that I need to develop and shit. I quit. Also, I think I have decided that the heir vote will be cut down to the 6 youngest and the three teens are out of the running. But...triplets. 

heaven facepalms.