The Batch Family

5 months old

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Beth asked, cradling the receiver between her cheek and shoulder as she fiddled with papers strewn across her desk.

"Girl, you couldn't pay me enough to get out of this house," Arla sighed on the other end of the line.

As if on queue, a baby started crying in the background. Beth shook her head, grateful she was far from having such chaos in her home. Granted, if her friends saw the mess of portfolios and proposals her internship had her up against, they'd probably say the same thing.

"Sheeka, too," Arla said calmly through the wailing. "You know she had the audacity to say we're co-parenting her brood? Like bitch, I didn't get the IVF quadruplets. My Echo's enough to handle on his own, thank you. Yes... yes he is... oh he's just one big cute handful isn't he..."

As Arla's voice devolved in high-pitched coos, the crying quieted down into mere fussing. Beth hardly noticed her friend was no longer paying attention to their call; she really wasn't either. A lot had changed in all of their lives. Pretending to carry on their nightly phone conversations was a thin and desperate thread holding their friendship together.

"Well, let me know if anything changes," Beth eventually said. "I could really use the extra night to prepare for this presentation."

There was a raspberry sound, possibly from Arla though it could've also been from her baby. It was hard to tell. "Oh, and I'm the one that needed to be convinced to take a night off. I see how it is."

"I'm just saying, if your babysitter falls through, or Sheeka changes her mind, or..."

"Beth. Put down the paperwork. Step away from the spreadsheets. We're going out drinking and that's final."

The line clicked and Beth sighed, though she wasn't mad. She missed her friends. It would be good for them to get out and have fun, like they used to before all these adult responsibilities. She just hoped she wouldn't have to hear about yet another baby story....

5 years old

"Hun, get your feet off the table."

Beth swooped through the living room, whisking up toys and shoes and even a piece of pizza crust. She couldn't even remember the last time they'd had pizza.

"My feet aren't on the table, my socks are," Hunter said.

Beth decided to ignore the comment as she was already halfway down the hall.

"Stop it!" Crosshair whined as Beth popped into the first bedroom, depositing one set of shoes and picking up another.

Wrecker only giggled as he continued batting the stuffed animal in his brother's face.

"Stoooop!" Crosshair pushed at him a bit. Wrecker stumbled back dramatically.

"Moooom, he pushed me!" Wrecker wailed.

Beth snatched away the stuffed toy, adding it to the collection of odd items in her arms. It's not like she bought them a bunch of things. Money was tight and she never wanted them to have too many possessions to take care of. But there were five of them, so the quantity still added up whether she liked it or not.

"No hitting. No pushing," she said before leaving.

The next bedroom was worse than the last. Bedding on the floor, toys on the beds, a pile of sticks in the corner. Where had those come from? She hadn't let them outside all day.

She dumped the items from her arms onto the nearest bed. She'd have to deal with all this later.

"Where you going, Momma?"

Tech shuffled behind her down the hall. He kept pulling up his pants. Great, she must've accidentally put him in Wrecker's again.

"Bathroom. Please don't follow me."

"That's unfortunate."

Her eye twitched. He said that phrase all the time now.

She hurried into her room and Tech stopped at the doorway. They didn't always obey that one house rule of Mom's room being off limits, so she was always surprised when they did choose to stay out.

Beth closed the bathroom door and let her head rest against the wood. She was losing it, she could feel it. She'd made it through the sleepless nights of infancy, the tantrums of the terrible twos, the scariness of their first day of school. But right now, for some reason that may only be a symptom of PMS-ing, she felt more overwhelmed than ever. She had so much to do, constantly. The boys were everywhere. She felt like she barely connected with them outside of commands to stop doing things. When had she become this person? When had she stopped being a good mom?

She took in a few measured breaths. Something had to change. She wasn't sure what, or how, but she was determined to turn this ship around.

10 years old

"Pardon me for the intrusion."

Cody gave Beth a nod as he stepped into the kitchen. She looked up from her recipe book in surprise.

"Your boys invited me to scope out their spot for the tree house. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not!" Beth gave an easygoing smile. "I'm so glad you're helping them with this. I'm afraid my carpentry skills don't extend past IKEA bookshelves."

Cody laughed. "Well, your boys are more eager to learn than mine. I'll make sure they get some useful skills out of this, and stay safe."

"I appreciate that."

Cody looked like he was about to continue the conversation, but then Hunter and Tech tugged on his sleeves and pulled him reluctantly away into the backyard to join the others. Beth shook her head in amusement as she watched them through the window. They skipped about as they explained their plans, talking over each other, desperate for his attention. Cody remained calm and directed their energy easily.

Beth felt a little twist in her chest. Not for the first time, she wished she had a man. Not Cody specifically, of course. But someone strong and kind and capable of handling all the things she failed at. Someone the boys could look up to. Someone she could lean on.

She quickly shook herself. No, dwelling on those thoughts would only make it worse. She had to make it on her own.

"It is what is it," she muttered, flipping to the next page of recipes and pretending dinner plans were the most important thing to focus on.

15 years old

"Excuse me, do you have the time?"

An elderly woman paused by Beth's cart with a friendly smile. Beth pulled out her phone to check

"Ten 'til four."

"Thank you, dear."

The woman's squeaky wheel kept moving down the aisle and Beth returned to her comparison of two protein powder brands. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but rattle off her boys' schedules.

Ten 'til four on a Tuesday... Hunter and Wrecker in driver's ed. Echo at debate practice. Tech with his study group. Crosshair walking home.

At least, that's where they all should be, and she felt it to be true even though there was always the possibility of a teenage boy doing his own thing without her knowing. She didn't mind them having their freedom, but she also preferred to still picture them as her perfect, well-behaved boys.

She finally settled on one of the protein powders and pushed her cart along. She turned the corner toward the registers and tried not to grimace at the excessive displays of Valentine's food and flowers. It was barely February and the stores had had this crap out for weeks already. All the same, she did slide a box of heart-shaped chocolates into her cart. No one else would be buying her any.

Just as she found a register with a short line, however, came a commotion from behind her. The old woman from earlier had collapsed into a display of conversation hearts. Beth abandoned her cart and rushed over to her.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Beth cradled the woman's head and checked for a pulse. Her eyes fluttered open and cast about in confusion.

"I... I don't know what happened..."

Others in the store were hovering, looking to be of help. One crouched beside Beth and caused her to do a double-take. It was her neighbor, Commander Wolffe.

"Ma'am, are you hurt anywhere?" he asked in his rough, deep tones. Beth instantly felt flushed and nervous, as she always did around the man.

"I... just wanted some candy... for my grandkids..."

"I'll call for help," Beth said, taking out her phone.

Wolffe shook his head and began helping the woman up. "I'll take her to the hospital in my squad car. You'll be alright, ma'am. We'll make sure you're taken care of."

"But..." The lady, leaning heavily against Wolffe, pointed at the fallen candy display. "I get them every year...."

"How many grandkids do you have?" Beth asked.

"Five."

Beth smiled. She quickly grabbed five boxes of the conversation hearts and handed them to Wolffe, looking over at the store manager who was standing nearby.

"You can ring them up with my cart," she said and the manager nodded in agreement.

Beth watched as Wolffe slowly walked the woman out the doors. She glanced down and noticed he'd left behind a basket of items. She scooped it up.

"And this, too," she said to the manager, who ushered her over to a register.

Wolffe reminded her of the boys she'd grown up with. Jango, with his quiet and serious demeanor, and Boba with his rugged assuredness. He intimidated the hell out of her. She wasn't sure she could ever be with a man like that, but she felt like at this point in her life, she might owe it to that little voice in the back of her mind, that suspiciously sounded like a combination of Arla and Padme, to at least be open to the idea. They'd been neighbors for a few years now but rarely interacted. Maybe a door would open by taking him his groceries.

20 years old

"Well? Shadow or no shadow?"

The man in bed beside her mumbled as he rolled over and rubbed at his eyes.

Beth sighed. "Shadow."

"And what does that mean again?"

"Six more weeks of winter."

He groaned and she joined him. She tossed her phone across the bed and wiggled in closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"What are we going to do with these six weeks, mm?" he hummed against her.

Beth dragged her fingers through the hair on his chest in thought. Things were so different now. Two decade of madness, trying to keep up with her boys and all their activities. She'd still worked, had some of her own hobbies and passion projects. But never this much time to do with as she liked.

And never with a partner.

"What if..." There was one thing, one dream she'd always had but never actualized. Maybe there was a way the two of them could finally figure out how to make it happen.

"Go on," he encouraged. She could feel his lips smile against her forehead.

"What if we got a cabin in the mountains somewhere? Like, a B&B, or maybe Padme knows someone who'd let us rent for a few weeks? We can invite the boys. I know they all have their things now, but even if they stopped by for a few days, whenever they had the time... I don't know. Maybe it's a silly idea."

"No. No, no, no." He pulled away to cup a hand along the side of her face. He was grinning. "That sounds fantastic!"

"Really?" she asked. It still felt strange for her to voice what she wanted, and to have someone so readily support it. "We'd probably just be doing the same things we'd be doing here at home..."

"But it'd be in a cabin so it'd feel more special," he nodded, as if he was finishing her sentence. "I'll teach you how to snowboard, we'll get fires going in the evenings, we'll wear nothing but flannel... it'll be great!"

His smile was infectious. Beth grinned in return. She leaned forward to kiss him but he was already shimmying out of bed.

"No time to lose!" he beamed. "Call Padme. Let's make this happen."

Beth fell back on the bed with a huff. She loved her husband, but sometimes he could be just as much a handful as her sons.