Generation Nine — Chapter Two: Bachelorette Number Two, What Would You Say If …

    Seth tumbled into bed exhausted but not defeated. Luckily, for him, he had a few other young female Sim acquaintances. He slept soundly until after ten o’clock. The only real problem with this was the maid was likely busy at work. He sprang out of bed, went to the adjacent bathroom and found to his dismay, the nightly visitors had wreaked havoc. The sink was spewing water everywhere and the shower was now more of a fountain. He’d have to shower downstairs in the main bathroom.

    Shedding his clothes, Seth stepped into the shower/tub, singing away, which was now his favorite pastime, when he noticed through the glass shower door that the maid, Hajarh Chafik was giving him quite the once-over. In fact, instead of being horrendously embarrassed, it actually served to bolster his ego, since she hadn’t fled the room. Maybe he was a hunk, after all? Finally, she went about other duties, allowing him to get out and get dressed.

    Taking out his cell phone, again, he was trolling through the names on his contact list. Joslyn Barrera.  Once again, he invited this second girl to meet him at Magnolia Park. Only this time, he decided if the talk went well, he’d invite her to Millie’s for some breakfast. He was starving.  Happily, too, his sisters were already at work. He’d learned at a very young age, to keep his life private from those two gossip-mongers.

    While he stood at the entrance to the park, he took a moment to scroll through Hannah’s blog. It wasn’t bad. He also noticed she had around forty followers. Good for her. He’d have to be sure to let her know he’d read her work and congratulate her.

    “Joslyn,” he greeted. A second later who should jog by. Darling Walsh. Probably picking the park as a rendezvous point was not his best idea. Not for both of  his prospective dates. To his great gratitude, if Darling even noticed him, she didn’t show it but continued on her jog without missing a beat. “You look fabulous. How have you been? Missed school at all?”

    “Seth. You know, I always thought you were so very cute. Now, look at you.”

    “So, are you hungry? I was thinking we could go to Millie’s and get some breakfast. You do eat breakfast, right?”

  

  “Oh, I never skip a meal,” she grinned.

    Talking in a booth, which wasn’t the same booth, at least, Seth learned that Joslyn was a loner. His father was a loner and sometimes that wasn’t always a good thing. Sure, everyone needs time alone, but not when those closest to you start to suffer from your self-imposed isolation. Suffice it to say, they parted company and Seth was beginning to wonder if he was being too picky. He liked Joslyn. She was pretty and wasn’t afraid of her femininity. Unlike Darling.

   To his profound surprise, his phone rang just a few short days later. Joslyn was inviting him out, this time. Obviously, it wasn’t a total bust. He agreed to meet her at the Old Alcove. The waiter set them up at the corner table. They poured over the menu and finally decided on something to eat.  Joslyn proved to be a bit of a glutton, scarfing her food down as if there was no tomorrow. He was quietly appalled at her lack of table etiquette. But, he invited her to San Myshuno anyway. There was a Spicy Food Festival going on and he thought she just might enjoy it. He was also trying to get over being so picky himself. At this rate, he’d be an old man before he had any children.

  The first thing he hit was the Karaoke bar. That was fun. Then they wandered over to the festival, itself, across the way. Together they both sampled some of the food before settling on a dish to eat. After they’d eaten she disappeared. Seth realized she’d also gone over to sing Karaoke. He joined her in the private room. Taking a seat together, he tried to engage her in more conversation. He regaled her with a few stories. Then when she appeared to be growing a bit bored, he tossed a crazy idea at her. Then he flirted. 

    Once again, Seth realized he’d struck out.

    The ‘date’ ended and he dragged himself home. Falling into bed he slept soundly.

   

Generation Nine — Chapter One: Welcome to the Dating Game; Tonight's Bachelor, Seth Cantrell!

   Seth watched as his father slowly turned into an elderly Sim, and as those before him, Trenton handed down the mantel of Patriarch to his only son. Seth, newly graduated from high school, was a tad lost not having a regular routine. So, he made it his first directive to seek out a bride. After all, how could he be a Patriarch if he had no children? Luckily, for him, he’d spent part of his scholastic life making a few friends. Some of them female, too. Which was only remotely easier, if one wanted children.

    Seth drew out his cell phone and skimmed through his list of contacts. Darling Walsh. She was interesting. Customarily wore a baseball cap, backwards, a sports shirt and shorts. She wasn’t in the least bit feminine, she was always just ‘one of the guys’. But then again, he didn’t know her too well, either. She may be surprisingly fascinating. Perhaps, she just needed a little coaxing to get her out of her shell?

    “Darling,” he said, when she came on the line. Unfortunately, his two sisters were standing just a few feet away from him. They gave each other a look, which alerted Seth to the possibility stories might be carried to their parents. His mother was certain to start planning the wedding at the first hint of any romance. Why were his palms sweating? 

    “Yeah, it’s me, Seth Cantrell. Yeah, from Civics. Third row, fifth seat. Ah, now you remember me. Say, I was just thinking. Would you like to meet me over at Magnolia Park? I don’t know, just hang out for a bit … Okay, good, I’ll see you there. Oh, in about fifteen, does that work for you? Sure, okay. See you then.”

    Betsy, grabbed him by the sleeve as he was about the leave. “Darling? You called someone darling? Who is she — darling is a she, right? Give us the stats.”

    “Height, hair color, eyes. Pretty, not,” Hannah chimed in.

    “I don’t know, yet,” he said, pulling his arm away.

    “How can you not know — you called her darling!” Betsy persisted. “You must have an opinion.”

    “She always has her hair in a cap, that’s how. Sheesh, let me go, or I’ll be late.”

    Seth sighed. Both of his sisters had taken jobs. One was a critic the other a click-bait operator — he really wasn't certain what that entailed beyond her creating and maintaining a blog. Females!

    He jogged the few blocks to the park and managed to make it before Darling arrived. At least he hoped he got there before her. Pretty soon, she came walking up.

    “Hey, hi,” Seth said, smiling.

    “Oh, I remember you, now,” Darling said. “The hunk in the third row, fifth seat. Civics.”

    “I’m not sure about hunk, but you got my seat correct.” There was a bit of an awkward silence that followed. Seth was so new to this whole dating thing. So much so, he wasn’t sure this even qualified as a ‘date’. He just wanted to get to know her better.

    “So,” he said at long last. “How’s your day been?”

    “So far, okay.” 

    “Your career?”

    Darling slapped her knees, laughing. “I’m currently unemployed. School was my full time job.”

    “Any plans for the future?”

    “Only that I’d like one.”

    “Ah, well, good. Say, are you hungry? Would you like to go over to Millie’s for a bite to eat?”

    “You mean, like a date?”

    Seth shrugged. “Sort of. Only nothing formal. Just two people chatting over a meal.”

    He’d seen old videos of the Dating Game and this meeting was just as awkward as that game show. He just wished he had his questions written out for him on those little 3 X 5 cards.

    They made it to the Café known as Millie’s. He walked ahead of Darling to the host and requested a table. Then he watched as Darling wandered along to the back of the restaurant. For a moment she fidgeted with the cup-cake making machine in the kitchen. He could see her through the slat of the food pass. What the heck? Pretty soon, she came back over to Seth and the two took a seat in the booth.

    Seth again did his best to engage her in conversation. He wanted so much to get to know this mysterious person, but she barely opened up. He did learn she was active. That was a plus, since he was, too. Likely they could spend some time together jogging, working out at the gym, or hiking or other fun stuff. Then he tried to flirt with her. That, as it turned out, was a huge mistake. Darling reared back from him and almost receded into the booth cushions. Obviously, she wasn’t into flirting. Unflirty, he filed that in the back of his brain. Had he that proverbial ‘black book’ he’d have written it beside her name.

    A bit of small-talk later, he paid the bill, and they both parted ways. Feeling embarrassed out of his mind, this first ‘date’ was a disaster. He’d sooner go through another earthquake than spend another minute with her. While he’d hoped for more, there simply was no there, there. She just was. An enigma in a backward baseball cap. 

   

Generation Eight — Chapter Eight: Fires, Aliens and Graduation Robes …

   Trenton stood over the grill, casually cooking up some hot dogs for his hungry family, when he began to smell a most curious smell. A smokey aroma. And, he was beginning to feel unusually warm. Before he knew it, he was on fire. Now, he understood poor Hannah’s situation. Once again, Gramps came to the rescue, fire extinguisher at the ready. Trenton was saved.
    Upon inspection, he quickly realized Hannah wasn’t at fault for the fire she managed to set. The barbecue grill, itself, had a problem, a broken valve or something. Happily, the insurance gave them a modest check to cover their losses. Which wasn’t enough to replace the very fine, expensive barbecue grill they owned, but, he was just glad to be alive. 
    “Now, who’s a walking fire hazard,” Hannah laughed upon seeing her father blackened head to foot. She, her brother and their mother came pouring out of the house to find Trenton standing in the drive. 

    “Ha-ha,” he coolly replied.
    Hannah gave her father a hug. “No more cooking for you!” she said.
    Later in that same week, all three of the kids were home of an evening, playing “Don’t Wake the Llama”. An odd sound reverberated above the house. This time the ground didn’t shake, but the thrumming continued for a bit.
    Trenton came in from work. “Anybody seen Gramps?” 

 

    “Not since he made dinner for us,” Seth answered.
    “I do hope you’ve all got your homework done. Just a couple more days left of school. I’d really like to see you get those grades up.”
    “Homework is done,” Betsy said, “And we each finished the extra credit, too.”
    Hannah stretched in her chair. “If we have to rehearse the grad ceremony one more time, I may just skip it.” Suddenly, Gramps came floating through the walls of the house. He had a curious look on his ghostly face.
    “You all right, Gramps?” Seth asked.
    “Just a little dazed. Going to bed, now.”
    The next evening Trenton walked out front. He was beginning to feel his age. His three children would graduate the night before they all became young adults. Where had the time gone? Just as he was walking along the front drive, that same eerie thrumming filled the night. He could almost feel the air itself pulse in a rhythm. Next thing he knew, he was frozen, caught up in the bright beam of light that emanated from the hovering saucer above. Unable to fight, he was drawn upward. Seeing his house way beneath him was strange.
    Hours later they unceremoniously plopped him back down in his front yard. Feeling  considerably dazed, he staggered inside, wobbled up the stairs and flung himself upon his bed to sleep it off. Understandably, Trenton slept late.  The next evening was the graduation ceremony. Trenton, Tiana, Gramps, Jett, Jaron and James were all in attendance. Foregoing a formal party, since there was a birthday party in the works, the triplets went off to San Myshuno for some fun.
    Early the next morning, Trenton and Tiana sat on the patio table eating their breakfast finalizing the plans of the birthday bash for their triplets. They rented a bar for the patio, a table to house a punch fountain, bought another table for the cakes — it was decided each deserved their own set of candles to blow out, and Gramps got busy baking. He seemed better than the night he arrived back from having been abducted for a second time in his afterlife life. He said little, and refused to even speak of it. Other than to suggest he’d told them where they could go. 

    Trenton also was reticent to speak of his experiences. Although, he figured it would help him in his chosen career. He now was of a mind to rid himself of that little alien specimen he’d found while cleaning out a pod the first day he was on the job.
    Finally, the triplets arrived home. The days were shortened for Seniors, who only had to show up for attendance, basically. Some got their Yearbooks signed. Seth made sure to say goodbye to his favorite teachers. “Come on, come on, come on!” Hannah said, tugging at his jacket. “There’s a party at home! Let’s go.” 

 

  

  

   Slowly, the guests poured into the house. Gramps laid out three cakes, ablaze with candles. Getting all three teens corralled long enough to blow them out was another story.  But, at last, the party requirements were fulfilled. Trenton was now the father of three young adults. Somehow, a mountain rolled off of his shoulders — or perhaps, it was merely the fact that he was two-fisting the drinks that had him feeling rather relaxed.

Or maybe it was that the graduation ceremonies were behind them. All three managed to pull in A’s which made their parents very proud. All three owned their official diplomas, picked up at school today.
    Trenton sat on the coping of their pool, draped an arm about Tiana, and began to discuss just what they were going to do, once they became Empty-Nester's. And just how he was going to feel passing the Patriarchal crown to their only son, Seth. Bitter-sweet though the moment was, he was pleased that while the girls were talking of moving out, Seth would be staying on. 

 

     

 

Generation Eight — Chapter Seven: A Father's Lament; What to Do About Fricassee Hannah?

    

Trenton was about as angry as a father could get. He accepted an invitation from Jett to go out to the local bar. True enough, it was Guy’s Night Out, but that didn’t prevent women from showing up. So, he did the sensible thing and invited Tiana to go with him. She was more than happy to go. The two needed the time out. The triplets were nearly grown and it had been a rough ride. In less than a week, they would graduate high school. That’s the only thought that kept him going. He loved his children, all three of them, but perhaps, it would have been easier had they come to him, one at a time, instead of all at once. 

    So after dancing for a bit, and having a drink or two at the bar, the parents could feel themselves unwinding. This is what they both needed. Trenton could even feel himself smiling again. Able to focus on the good memories with their children and how he really was going to miss them once they’d moved on, as kids often do.

    “This is so much fun,” Tiana told Trenton. She leaned back a little to speak to Jett who sat on Trenton’s left. “Jett, thank you for inviting us out.”

    “Any time,” he smiled back. “Sometimes parents don’t treat themselves enough.” He winked.

    The evening wound down and the couple decided to get back home. Looking around, they wondered where their three teens had gone off to? Then they heard a bit of panic coming from the back patio.  “Hannah. Hannah,” Seth said, “What are you doing? Leave that to Betsy or me, please!”

   

   “Oh, my Gawd, Hannah! Somebody, help. Please HELP!” Came Betsy’s plea.

    Trenton raced out of the back door in time to see his daughter, once again up in flames. This time, his feet seemed stuck to the concrete. “Hannah!” he said. Luckily, Gramps was more cool-headed in his reaction. The ghost floated by Trenton, into the house, and in a flash was back again, armed with the fire-extinguisher. Quickly, having failed Jade, Gramps put the flames out. Hannah somehow survived. But she looked remarkably like blackened fish. Or even a burnt marshmallow.

    “Gramps,” Trenton said, finally able to move again. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”

    “No problem, this time, but I would suggest you school her in fire-safety. She’s a walking menace.”

    Trenton, reverted to his almost constant state of tension, which had called him to go out in the first place. Was there no end? Seemed he wasn’t allowed to relax. Most likely not until the three were fully grown and on their own. This was insane. The girl just needed to leave the cooking to others. He did his best to quell his rising anger. So much for his evening out.

    “Hannah,” he said, quivering in his ire.

    “Daddy, I know, you don’t have to say it. But, I was hungry …”

    “You’re always hungry. Why don’t you ask, or better still, eat leftovers. Nevermind, that often requires the microwave. We don’t need you to electrocute yourself. Sweetheart, please. If you persist in this cooking phase of yours, then I insist you study it, first. Read, read, read and watch the Cooking Channel. I think that’s the only way you’re going to survive this nonsensical penchant you have. What is it with you and fires?”

    “I don’t know how it happens — it just does. It’s like I’m cursed or something.” Hannah’s shoulders slumped. “Are you going to ground me again?”

    “Naw,” he said, hugging her tight. “Not so long as you study cooking — away from any form of heat source, that is.”

    Tiana came up beside her daughter, smoothing her dark tresses, “At least you didn’t catch your hair on fire, this time. Come on, inside. You really need a shower.” 

    The family went inside. Seth walked into the office, and stood before the bookshelf. Scanning the titles, he finally found the cookbook he knew was there. Volume One. He’d read it himself, it was very informative and just what his sister needed. She was still in the adjacent dining room on her way to the stairs when he emerged. “Hannah, think fast!” he said, gently tossing the book at her. Nothing wrong with her reflexes she caught it like a pro.

    Flipping the book over, she read the title. “Ha-ha,” she said. “Very funny, little brother.” He was the last one born.

    Seth smirked at her, and shrugged his broad shoulders slightly. “Just trying to help.”

       
   
   
   
   

   

Generation Eight — Chapter Six: In the Face of Temptation

   Trenton sighed. He loved his wife very much. Yes, she was older and her age was showing. Yes, he was a much younger man. However, fending off the Babes was beginning to get difficult for him. He had no idea he was so desirable. Of course, Tiana was having similar problems, but then again she was lovely. Even into her advanced years. He certainly was a lucky Sim. Learning just how lucky when coming downstairs one evening to get some ice cream, he overheard her on the phone, “Raiden, I told you, I’m a married woman — I have triplets. Get it into your head, I’m not interested.” She sounded very insistent. Firm. That filled Trenton with resolve. If ever he wavered, he’d remember her loyalty.
    Not long after this moment, he found himself tested. This one Sim kept showing up wherever he went. Out dancing at the club, you name it there she was. Not only that but she was also proving rather aggressive. He was reminded of an old movie he once saw about a woman who was relentless in her pursuit of a married man and went so far as to kill the family’s pet when spurned. He was scared witless. He was a little afraid, now, that exact scenario was playing out in his own life. Once again he got a text message. ‘Trenton, I have been thinking about you a lot. Do you want to go to Old Alcove for dinner?’

    He quickly tapped back his response. ‘Sure, meet you there.’
    Feeling a tad awkward, Trenton went to his old restaurant. As he walked along, he rehearsed in his head just what he was going to say to this Sim. This wasn’t her first invitation. She was one of several who kept badgering him. By now you’d think he would remember her name, but he just didn’t. Seeing her up ahead, however, he did recognize her, yet her name eluded him, still. Taking in a deep breath he steeled himself for the encounter. Trenton flagged her down, and trotted quickly to catch up to her.
    “Ah, you made it,” she said, smiling.
    “Yeah, I did. But only because we need to have a little talk. A chat. And doing it over text or even the phone just isn’t — how do I put this? Good manners.”  He wanted to tell her that method wasn’t working, but that dead rabbit scene flashed in his head, and he thought better of it. Taking her by the arm, he turned her so she was facing him. “You have got to stop calling me like this. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to explain to you that I’m a married man. I have three children. Triplets. Teenagers. There can’t be anything between us.”  
     “No? You’re here, the restaurant is right here, and the night is young,” she said. “Why don’t we just go in, have a drink or two, or three, and a bite to eat? Where’s the harm in that?” She moved toward him, wrapping her arms about him, pulling him in closer. He could feel her hot breath on his neck. Trenton took her arms, gently untwining himself from her grasp, taking a step back.

    “You just won’t quit, will you?” He was starting to get a little annoyed.
    “I make a point to never give up. So far, the strategy works. I do get what I want. And I want you, Trenton Cantrell.  I used to come to the Old Alcove all of the time,  just to see you. And then suddenly you sold the place and left. Remember me? I was one of your regulars.”
    “No thanks. I’m not on the menu. Goodbye.”
    “Wait. What? You can’t just leave, again. Just like that. You accepted my invitation for dinner, after all.”
    “Watch me. Oh, and forget my number — please.”
    “But, I always get what I want —”
    Trenton turned back toward her. “Not this time.”

    With that she turned and walked down the sidewalk, passed the restaurant. Trenton watched for a time and then returned home.
    Tiana was in the kitchen when he got back. “There you are? I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
    “I took a walk. I just needed to get something off of my chest.”
    “Well, I do understand that sometimes you just need to be alone. But, I was hoping you’d allow me to share some alone time with you. The children are out for a few hours. Maybe, we could ‘get together’ like old times. If you take my meaning.” She looked gorgeous to him. He smiled, flirted and she did the same back.
    Next thing he knew they were running up the stairs to their bedroom like a couple of kids. They flirted, kissed, made woohoo and all but burned up the sheets with their passion. It was nice to know they hadn’t lost it. He did love Tiana so very much.
      
  
  

  
  

   

Generation Eight — Chapter Five: Hannah and the Kitchen Disaster

    Hannah was a bit of a late bloomer. She was the second one born, and the smallest of the three, but the triplets arrived at thirty-seven weeks plus one day into their gestation, so the physician couldn’t classify them as preemies. Yet, Hannah was Hannah. Trenton was beside himself. He heard her frantic screams, aware she was out in the kitchen and he ran to see what was wrong. Sweet, sweet Hannah looked like a piece of toast that had been in the toaster too long. Burnt, blackened like halibut, she was terribly singed. He worried.

    By the time he’d made it to the kitchen, she was no longer on fire, having managed to put out the flames, herself.  But she was full of scorch marks up one side and down the other. He caught the acrid smell of burnt hair. He nose was black. She almost looked like a black cat.

    “Hannah!” he said.

    “Daddy, oh, Daddy, I was just trying to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I don’t know what happened. Suddenly, I was just on fire.” 

   “Are you okay?” he said, giving her the once-over.   

    “Yeah, I’m just covered in soot.”   

    “More like burnt skin, Kidd-o. You need to be more careful. How many times has your mother and I told you …?”      Hannah rolled her eyes.   

   “Oh, Daddy, not now.”   Trenton took out his cell phone, gesturing with it at her. “Let’s get a picture together. I want to keep this moment for posterity.”

    “Oh, please. Must you snap a picture of every little thing?”   

  “Yes, I do. Besides, this isn’t what I’d call a little thing. You could have been killed.”

    Despite her protests Hannah leaned into her father and Trenton snapped the photo. Tiana walked into the kitchen, just then, having arrived home from work. “What is all this?” she said, noticing her once goldenrod stove was black and likely beyond repair.  “Place looks and smells as if there was a fire.” She ran a finger over the stove top.

   Hannah glanced from her father to her mother, and then to her father again, as if he might be an advocate for her mishap.

    “Hannah, have you been attempting to cook again?” Tiana said.

    “I was hungry. And how am I ever to learn how to cook, if you and Daddy keep barring me from using the stove?”

    “Well, except for the black markings, you look okay. Go shower and clean up. I’m going to try to salvage my range.”

    “Could you fix me something to eat while you’re at it,” Hannah hollered from the adjacent bathroom.

    Later on, Trenton went over to visit his uncle Jett. The jog to his house didn’t quite abate the tension he felt, as he hoped it would. Nor that sickening fear in his stomach that he almost lost a daughter. Jett met him outside on the lawn. Trenton took a moment to vent to Jett, who was just as concerned as he.

    “Is she okay?” 

    “She’s as snarky as she’s ever been. I took that to mean she would be fine. I left while she was in the shower trying to get the ‘soot’, as she called it, off of her body. Jett, she was covered in black marks. I’m guessing it was scorched skin. Here, take a look,” he shared the photo.

    Jett poured over the photo. “Thankfully, she’s okay.”

    “I know. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with her. The other two …”

    “Careful,” Jett interrupted. “You know it’s never a good practice to compare children to each other — especially siblings.”

    “Yeah. It’s just that I know Seth and Betsy are going to be fine. It’s Hannah. I don’t know, maybe the other two squeeze off her oxygen in the womb. She’s just not as …” he struggled for the words. “Quick as the other two. Not as bright. And the other two are blond. So much for that myth, eh?”

  
      Jett patted Trenton on the shoulder. “Trent, she just put you through the ringer, is all. I’m sure there’s more of that ahead for you. You are the father of three teenagers, after all. I think you’ll survive, in the end. Somehow your parents did. As did mine.”

    “Yeah, but I was an only child.”

    “Now, you know why.” Jett punched Trenton on the upper arm, then gave him a bear hug.

    “Jett, you’re my best friend. I’m so glad I have you.”

    

   
   

   
   

      

Generation Eight — Chapter Four: Earth Rattling Moments …

Just as Trenton leaned over the table blowing out the candles on his birthday cake, he heard a curious rumbling noise. This was not the first time, but rather the second time in as many days. What was going on? As he stood back up, underneath him the ground began to move. First a sudden jarring jolt, followed quickly by a steady tremble.  A rocking motion that lasted for what felt like an eternity, but in reality only lasted about twenty seconds. Looking around him, he was uncertain what was happening. He could feel the house shaking. Feeling very insecure, he clutched the edges of the table, trying to hold on.  He had no idea that turning thirty was so earth-rattling.
    His first instinct was to run outside, but they were already out on the patio. Besides, before he could get his feet to move, the tremble stop. Abruptly. All was still again. Or, at least the ground was no longer in movement that he could detect. He couldn’t say the same thing for himself. Trenton was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He took a seat at the patio table.
    “Anybody want cake?” he said, knife in unsteady hand. “Where did everybody go?”
    “I’m just hanging out in the door-jamb,” Seth called back. “That’s what they taught us in school, at least.”
    “What, on Earth was that?” Both Betsy and Hannah chorused. They, too, squeezed themselves into the back door frame, next to Seth.
 

  

 

 

     “That,” Gramps began, “is what’s known as an earthquake.”
     While looking for something to read, awhile back, Trenton came across an interesting book all but hidden behind other books on the shelf.  Inspecting the cover, the images of a singer looked curiously familiar.  Looking closer at it, he was excited to see it was written by a long-departed relative. The book had sat there so long, he was surprised he hadn’t found it sooner. He’d read nearly everything else in the house. Taking it off the shelf, he blew the dust off of the top pages. Intrigued, he eagerly flipped through it. Turned out to be a biography of Gramps.

 

    Always the bookworm, Trenton sat down and read the entire thing in one day. He was dumbfounded at just who Gramps was, and how badly he’d been ripped off by a trusted employee. Erik Cantrell’s accountant had slowly drained away Erik’s hard-earned assets. Mega-Super Rock Star that he’d been, it wasn’t hard to realize he’d chosen this beautiful piece of land — which was made affordable because it sat on a Fault Line. Erik needed a new life, a change of pace. He wanted off the merry-go-round of fame. So, he bought the only piece of land he could afford, despite the Fault. 

 

“So, Gramps, enjoying the ride?” Trenton said, as Gramps floated about, nonchalantly, nearby.

    “I see you’ve read my biography,” Gramps said. “I had to get out of Sunset Valley. I was mostly broke, and what few Simoleons I had left allowed me to purchase this piece of land. You have to admit, it has quite a view. And to be honest, this is really the first time the Fault has made itself known. It’s been decades.”
    “That is has. Quite a view, I mean.”
    All of these years, the tectonic plates had remained stable. Dormant. So, just what agitated them, now? Trenton didn’t know, but he would seek information on the internet. Before he could do anything, his cell phone went off. Taking the device from his pocket, he could see it was his boss calling.

    “Trenton Cantrell,” he said, clicking a button.
    “Cantrell, you had best be lying on your death bed! You’re late. If you don’t wish to have your career ended abruptly, I suggest you get yourself down here.”
    Trenton didn’t get a chance to speak for himself, his boss hung up, that quickly. He’d take the time to mention to his boss, after he got to work, that an earthquake had hit, which required he check out his home for damage.  What else could he do?
 

  

 Fortunately enough, Trenton arrived at work, focused and ready to go. He put in some hard work, too. Able to smooth things over with this boss, he got home that night with a new job title and a raise. He was now a Technician. This was a good thing. Tiana was a number of years older than Trenton, and her birthday was coming up. She shared her day with their triplets, who were about to enter their teen years.

 

Trenton was uncertain just how long Tiana could handle the grind of a daily job. He had to admit that being a Writer wasn’t as stressful as managing a restaurant, but still. His dear wife wasn’t getting any younger. He could tell by how worn out she got. She wasn’t strutting her way through the days anymore. On the whole, he had to admit, she was slowing down.
    The day was upon them, and Gramps was up early baking. A chocolate cake for Tiana and cakes for the triplets. For Seth, he made a hamburger cake. The girls shared a chocolate cake like their mother’s.  They had a household of six, if you didn’t count their many deceased relatives that visited nightly, that is. That was a lot of cake. 

 

    One by one the birthday Sims had their chance to make a wish and blow out the candles. How quickly the children had grown.  Trenton sighed. Before he knew it, all three raced out the door to San Myshuno, a new district nearby. He wasn’t worried, knowing they would be gone for several hours. The girls had their brother to protect them, after all.

 

    All three of them were into singing, too. Sadly, all three of them were simply terrible at it. But, for now, at least they were out of the house and likely singing at the Festival. For a brief few hours, his eardrums could rest. While he encouraged the pursuit of music, it was somehow easier to endure the squeals of a violin over the screech of the Sim voice. Oh, well, perhaps, in time, their voices would grow into the power of their lungs, emitting enjoyable sounds. He could hope. Why had he allowed Tiana to talk him into purchasing that huge Karaoke machine? If the three didn’t get better, their teenage years were going to be long.