The Seventh Child
"Congratulations, Mrs. Shelldrake. The test was positive. You're pregnant."
Diana's face glowed with happiness. She could not wait to tell her husband the good news. For more than ten years, the couple had tried to conceive a child. When all the well-meant advice from family and friends failed, she resorted to infertility therapy, including regular injections of Pergonal, a fertility drug.
As Diana had anticipated, her husband, Keith, was as delighted by the news as she was. The expectant father accompanied his wife to all her subsequent doctor's appointments. Thus, he was in the obstetrician's office with her when the physician announced that there was not one, not two, not three or four, but five fetuses in the womb. Most people would have been daunted by such news but not the Shelldrakes, for they both dearly loved children.
"Well, you always said you wanted a big family," Keith told his wife with a boyish grin. "Now you'll get it all at once."
"Quintuplets! We'll be blessed five times over."
While many prospective parents had to fit children into their budgets, money was no problem in their case. Keith was the only child of one of the wealthiest men in Massachusetts and could afford to give his five children every advantage. Five babies simply meant five silver spoons instead of one.
As Diana neared the end of her second trimester, however, the obstetrician admitted to his patient that he had made a mistake.
"I thought there were five heartbeats, but I was wrong. There are clearly six."
"Six!" Diana and her husband exclaimed in unison.
"All we need is triplets next time, and we'll have ourselves a ball team," Keith laughed.
The following weeks were no laughing matter for the mother-to-be. To avoid premature labor, she was admitted to a private hospital and confined to a bed. Nurses kept watch over her night and day, and a team of obstetricians was on call for the delivery.
In the first week of her ninth month, the labor pains began.
"I'll notify the doctors at once," the nurse on duty said, immediately reaching into her pocket for her cell phone.
Within the hour, Diana was prepped for surgery. Keith, wearing scrubs and looking like a member of the Grey's Anatomy cast, held his wife's hand during the caesarean section.
After the birth of four boys and two girls, the head of the obstetrical team was about to close the incision when he discovered a seventh baby, one much smaller than the other six.
"We have another child here," he called to the pediatricians who were determining Apgar scores for the tiny infant's siblings.
"Seven?" Diana asked. "How auspicious! That's my lucky number."
The pediatrician who took the seventh child—a third girl—from the obstetrician who delivered her, did not tell the new mother and father that there was only a slim chance the underdeveloped baby would live through the night.
Despite her diminutive size, the seventh child did survive and grew stronger each passing day, and even though her sisters and brothers went home from the hospital weeks before she did, eventually the proud parents had all seven of their offspring under the same roof.
* * *
When the seven Shelldrake children were christened, no one but family and close friends were on hand. All four of the infants' grandparents fussed over the new additions to the family, six of whom were blond-haired, blue-eyed cherubs.
"I don't know who little Andrea takes after," Diana said, eyeing her dark-haired seventh child.
"I believe my grandfather on my mother's side had dark hair," Cecile Helmsley, the maternal grandmother remarked.
Keith stepped forward and picked his daughter up from the bassinette.
"Andrea is my adorable little changeling," he laughed.
"What's a changeling?" his young nephew asked.
"A changeling is a fairy child secretly left in place of a human baby. Just look at her face. She's a pixie, if ever I saw one."
When Keith kissed his daughter on the forehead, Diana thought she saw the child look up at him and smile, but she quickly put the idea out of her mind.
Throughout the afternoon the six fair babies were passed among the guests, but Andrea remained in her father's arms.
"Why don't you let me take her?" Diana offered. "She probably needs to be changed."
When Keith handed the baby to his wife, the child cried and put up a fuss. Nothing the mother did would quiet her.
"Let me try," her husband said, taking the baby back.
Andrea instantly fell silent.
"I guess this little one will be daddy's girl," he said, grinning with satisfaction.
When the christening party came to an end and the guests went home, the exhausted parents rang for the trio of nannies they had hired to help care for the large family. They then kissed their seven precious children goodnight and retired to the master bedroom for some much-needed rest.
* * *
During the next several months the septuplets grew and developed—even little Andrea, although she was still the "runt of the litter," as her father affectionately dubbed her. The babies soon learned to roll over onto their stomachs and sit up without support. From there it was only a short time until they learned to crawl.
"We may need to hire another nanny when this brood begins walking," Keith laughed, bouncing his dark-haired daughter on his knee.
"We'll deal with that problem when the time comes," his wife declared. "Right now, there are more important things to worry about."
"Such as?"
"Planning the babies' first birthday party."
"And what did you have in mind? A clown? A magician? Pony rides?"
"Honestly, you have no imagination. I was thinking more along the lines of hot air balloon rides and fireworks, maybe a Ferris wheel and elephants and giraffes, too."
At times Keith was not sure whether his wife was being facetious, but he was confident her good sense would prevail and she would plan a celebration appropriate to the age of the children and the social position of the family. Movie stars and rock singers could have extravagant galas for their progeny but not the Shelldrakes.
Keith need not have feared a carnival-like atmosphere. His wife organized a traditional birthday party to celebrate the end of the babies' first year. There were no farm or circus animals and no magic acts or pyrotechnic displays.
"I swear Lindsay gets bigger every time I see her," Cecile exclaimed, immediately picking up one of her granddaughters.
"Where are the rest of them?" Grandpa Helmsley asked.
"Upstairs in the nursery," his daughter replied. "The nannies will bring them down when they're dressed, except for Andrea, that is."
"Where is Andrea?" he asked.
"With Keith, where else?" Diana replied with a hint of resentment in her voice.
The rest of the guests soon arrived, and the babies were admired and passed around by the doting aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Little Lindsay Shelldrake and four of her five siblings basked in all the attention, but Andrea cried whenever someone tried to take her away from her father.
Keith joked about his child's behavior.
"She wants her daddy. It's obvious, she's got good taste."
"Is she like that all the time?" Cecile whispered to her daughter.
"Yes, she won't go to anyone else—not the nannies, not me ...."
"What about the other children? Does she get along with them?"
"Andrea cries whenever Keith pays attention to them."
"Have you spoken to the pediatrician?"
Harriet Shelldrake, Keith's mother, overheard the question and blanched.
"What's this about the pediatrician? Is something wrong with one of the babies?"
"No," her daughter-in-law answered. "My mother was just expressing her concern over the fact that Andrea seems so possessive of Keith."
Harriet flatly dismissed the idea.
"What nonsense! What's wrong with a little girl idolizing her father, especially when that father dotes on her?"
Diana rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. She had no intention of arguing with her mother-in-law, a woman who could find no fault in anything her son did.
* * *
Not long after the birthday party, Christopher took his first step. Soon after, his brothers and sisters followed suit, although Andrea only walked when her father was present. Whenever he entered the house, he would stoop down and wait for his daughter to come to him. When she did, he would sweep her up into his arms, and the two would dance around the room.
"I never notice you dancing with any of the other children," Diana commented one day.
The smile disappeared from Keith's face.
"What's your point?"
"You have seven children, not one."
"I pay attention to the others," he insisted defensively.
"Not nearly as much as you pay to Andrea."
"Is this really about the other babies or is it about you? That's the real problem here, isn't it? You're jealous because I don't pay as much attention to you as I used to."
"This has nothing to do with me!"
"Doesn't it? Don't you think I notice the way you look at me whenever I pick Andrea up? Or how you watch us whenever I play with her?"
"I'm not jealous of my own child. I just want you to pay some more attention to the others."
The sound of breaking glass startled the arguing parents.
"Andrea!" the father cried as he scooped up his daughter, who had bumped into the end table and smashed her mother's antique Tiffany table lamp.
"Shhhh. Don't cry, my little princess," Keith cooed.
As Diana gathered the shards of her broken lamp, she glanced toward her husband and daughter. It was not her imagination this time: Andrea was smiling. It was an eerily malevolent smile, and this time she was smiling at her mother.
* * *
It did not surprise Diana that Andrea's first spoken word was "Dada" and not "Mama." Despite her attempts to get closer to her daughter, the child did not seem in the least bit interested in getting to know her second parent. She was daddy's little girl to the exclusion of everyone else.
I wonder if Keith is right, she thought in a moment of self-reflection. Am I jealous? And if so, of whom: my husband or my daughter?
While she received no love from her younger daughter, the other six children all adored their mother. Every morning she helped the nannies feed and dress them, and every afternoon she played with them in the fenced-in back yard.
One day while she was helping John fill a bucket with sand, she heard Christopher howl with pain.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" the mother asked.
"Andrea hit me!"
"Andrea, did you hit your brother?"
"Yes."
"We don't hit one another in this family," the mother cautioned.
"I don't like him!" the little girl admitted.
"But he's your brother. You love your brothers and sisters."
"No, I don't. I love Daddy."
"You should love all your family: Mommy, Daddy, Grandma ...."
"No. I just love Daddy."
In the months that followed this incident, there were several other episodes of open hostility. Without provocation, Andrea would push her brothers and sisters down, slap them, pull their hair and even bite them. Diana tried to administer discipline herself, but it soon became apparent that the little girl would not listen to her. She had no choice but to bring the matter to her husband's attention.
"I think we should talk," she announced one chilly autumn evening as Keith sat in a wing chair beside the fireplace with his favorite child on his lap.
"I'm reading a story to Andrea right now. Can't it wait?"
"I suppose it can, but I'd rather we talk now."
Keith frowned and put the book down.
"What is it?"
"Andrea has been exhibiting inappropriate behavior toward her siblings."
"Stop talking like a child psychologist and just say what you mean," her husband said impatiently.
"She tries to hurt them."
"Aren't you exaggerating again?"
"No. Just this morning she bit Justin on the arm for no reason."
"Well, I'm sure this is just a phase she's going through."
It was Diana's turn to lose her patience.
"Don't you even care what she does to the other children?"
"Of course, I do. I just think these squabbles between siblings are to be expected."
"This is more than a mere squabble. We have to do something about her behavior before she seriously hurts one of the other babies."
Keith's face reddened with anger.
"You worry about your children, and let me worry about Andrea."
Diana could not believe what she was hearing.
"What are you talking about? All seven children are both of ours."
But Keith was no longer listening to her. He picked up Andrea's picture book and stomped out of the room.
That argument proved to be the beginning of the end of the marriage. Days passed without husband and wife speaking to each other. Eventually, Keith and Andrea relocated to the east wing of the estate, leaving Diana, the remaining children and the nannies the entire west wing. The strain of such a dysfunctional arrangement took its toll on his wife.
"I can't stand this anymore," she screamed when she saw her husband getting out of his car one evening. "This isn't a marriage anymore."
"I agree," Keith said. "I'll call my lawyer in the morning. You and your children can stay in the house until they reach legal age."
"What about you?"
"I'm going to go live in England with Andrea."
"But you can't take my daughter away from me."
"Face facts, Diana. She's not your daughter; she never was."
* * *
The years passed, and Diana enjoyed watching six of her seven children grow up. She and the nannies and the grandparents were there to share both the good and bad times in their young lives. Their mother helped them learn to ride two-wheelers and nursed them through the measles. She was also there to see them off on their first day of school and to help them prepare for their senior prom. Diana and her children led a full and happy life despite the continued absence of Keith and Andrea.
On a warm June evening seventeen years after the birth of the septuplets, Diana, her parents and her former in-laws assembled on the lawn of a private school in Northeast Massachusetts. Listening to the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance," they watched the line of young adults in caps and gowns march toward the grandstand erected on the athletic field. Six blond-haired, blue-eyed Shelldrakes were among those students graduating that day.
"I wish Keith were here to see this," Harriet Shelldrake whispered to her husband.
It was the only reference to the absent father any of the adults made.
After the long, monotonous speeches, the presentation of diplomas and Reverend Wilson's benediction, the school band struck up "Pomp and Circumstance" once again as the students left the stage and joined their parents. Amidst tears and laughter, the adults celebrated a major milestone in the children's lives.
"I'm so proud of all of you," Diana sobbed, hugging one child after another. "I ...."
She froze when she saw her ex-husband standing a few yards away. He looked so old. Then a beautiful young woman stepped out from behind Keith and took his arm. The young Shelldrakes looked uneasily at each other while their mother stared at the girl.
"Keith!" Harriet exclaimed. "And Andrea. How you've grown! I almost didn't recognize you."
"Hello, Grandmother," the raven-haired beauty said.
There was no warmth in Andrea's voice, no love in her dark eyes. She did not even acknowledge her mother's or siblings' presence.
"We've missed you, son," Grandpa Shelldrake announced hoarsely.
"Then you'll be glad to know that Andrea and I will be moving back to Massachusetts. In three months, the children will turn eighteen, and we'll be taking back possession of the family estate."
Having dropped his bombshell, Keith put a protective hand on Andrea's back and vanished into the crowd.
* * *
That was the last time Diana saw her former husband alive. She moved out of the house and into a condominium in New York, two days shy of the septuplets' eighteenth birthday. Once the six children she raised headed off to college, she was more than happy to leave behind her empty nest and begin a new life.
Then, barely a year after leaving Massachusetts, she read of Keith's death. Although she was reminded of happier times, she shed no tears, for she had stopped loving him years earlier when he walked out on her and their six children.
With her ex-husband's passing, the question of his will came up. While Diana did not expect to receive an inheritance herself, surely her children would come into a great deal of money now that their father had died. The reading of the will was to take place at her former home in New England, and the widow was asked to attend on behalf of the six children who were away at school.
A butler answered the door and led the former mistress of the house into Keith's study, where Andrea was waiting for her. The two women barely spoke, despite their close familial tie. It did not take the attorney long to read the will. While there were some small bequests for his other children, Keith left the house and the bulk of his estate to his beloved daughter.
"Well, I see you benefitted from your father's death," Diana bitterly remarked after the lawyer left.
Andrea did not bother denying the obvious.
"I don't know why I was even asked to come here today."
"Because I wanted you to meet your grandchild."
Diana was stunned by the news, as Andrea had expected her to be.
"Lisette, please bring the baby down here," she called up the staircase.
A few moments later, a uniformed nanny presented the infant for the grandmother's inspection. The look on Andrea's face could only be described as one of triumph.
"Oh, my God!" Diana cried when she saw the blond-haired, blue-eyed baby who was the spitting image of her late husband.
It was obvious to her even before Andrea announced the child's parentage that Keith was not the grandfather but the father.
Diana looked with horror and revulsion at her seventh child. On the day of her children's christening, Keith had jokingly called Andrea a changeling. He had unknowingly hit the nail on the head, for surely some evil force had placed the tiny, dark-haired, cold-hearted infant in Diana's womb. It was not a human baby she had given birth to, but a monster who had cleverly managed to steal both her husband and her home.
"Keith was right," Diana said, turning away from Andrea. "You're not my daughter, and you never were."
Salem was one of a large litter. Imagine six more just like him!
