Page 86 of The Mafia's Septuplets
She turns the laptop toward me, revealing a virtual tour of a mountain estate that overlooks rolling valleys and distant peaks. The property sits on several acres that would provide both privacy and space for children to explore safely, far from the urban dangers that have shaped my worldview.
“What do you think of this one in Kiawah Island, South Carolina?” Her voice carries excitement tempered by practical considerations. “It has eight bedrooms, which gives us room to grow, and the grounds include a stream where the children could play when they’re older.”
I study the images of sun-drenched rooms and sprawling gardens, imagining our seven babies taking their first steps across hardwood floors and learning to walk along peaceful pathways. The vision represents everything I’ve been working toward since learning about the pregnancy. “It looks perfect.” I lean closer to examine details of the property layout. “When can we schedule an in-person visit?”
“Not until after the babies are born and released from NICU, so I hope no one buys it before then.” She closes the laptop and settles back against the sofa cushions with a satisfied sigh. “That gives us time to research options and narrow down our choices before we start traveling with seven infants.”
Timur excuses himself to handle final paperwork related to the organizational transfer, leaving us alone. The silence feels comfortable rather than tense, filled with shared anticipation for the future we’re building.
“Do you have any second thoughts about leaving Charleston?” Willa’s question touches on concerns we’ve discussed repeatedly as her due date approaches. “This city holds a lot of history for you.”
“Most of that history involves violence.” I trace patterns across her palm while speaking. “I’d rather our children grow up somewhere without those associations, where we can write new stories instead of being haunted by old ones.”
“Four more days until the C-section.” She places my hand against her belly, where I can feel the almost incessant movement from the babies we’ll soon meet. “Are you ready to be a father to seven children simultaneously?”
The question touches on fundamental changes that will reshape every aspect of our daily existence. I’ve spent months preparing mentally and practically for the responsibilities ahead, but abstract planning feels inadequate compared to the imminent reality. “I’m ready to try.” The honest answer acknowledges both excitement and apprehension about becoming a father under such extraordinary circumstances. “We’ll learn as we go and figure out how to balance seven different personalities and needs.”
She shifts position on the sofa, seeking comfort that becomes increasingly elusive as the babies grow larger, and their due date approaches. Dr. Layton has been monitoring her condition closely, seeing her every three days now, and adjusting medications and scheduling to ensure the safest possible delivery for both mother and children.
“Sometimes I wonder if we’ll remember what it was like before—” Her words cut off abruptly as her face contorts with sudden pain. “Oh.”
The sound makes me instantly alert to crisis, scanning her expression for signs of distress. Her breathing becomes shallow and rapid while she grips my hand with surprising strength.
“What’s wrong?” I lean closer, ready to call for medical assistance if necessary. “Is it the babies?”
“I think...” She tries to speak through another wave of obvious discomfort. “I think my water just broke.”
I look down and see clear fluid spreading across the sofa cushions, confirming what her body has already announced. The babies have decided to arrive four days ahead of schedule, transforming our peaceful afternoon into a medical emergency.
“Four days early.” I stand quickly and reach for my phone to call Dr. Layton’s emergency line. “That’s okay though. That’s still thirty-one weeks and three days, which should be safe for septuplets.”
Willa nods through another contraction that makes her double over with pain, and her face has gone pale with the sudden onset of labor. I help her to her feet while coordinating transportation to the hospital, where an extensive medical team waits for exactly this scenario.
“The bags are already packed.” She moves slowly toward the stairs while I make rapid-fire phone calls to alert everyone who needs to know about this development. “Dr. Layton said this could happen any time after thirty weeks.”
Panic and excitement collide in my chest as I realize that within hours, I’ll see the seven babies who represent everything Willa and I have survived and sacrificed to protect. The future we’ve been planning is about to become present reality, complete with all the chaos and joy that comes with sudden parenthood.
“Are you ready for this?” I take her arm as we move toward the car that will carry us to the next chapter of our lives together.
“Ready or not,” She smiles through obvious discomfort, “Our children have decided it’s time to meet their parents.”