Summer of Love: Part 3

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Somehow I knew Alberta was going to be at the landing strip to greet us. Usually, at St. Vlad's they'd leave the bus at the runway with the keys in the ignition, but when Dimitri helped me waddle down the stairs of the plane, Alberta was waiting with some Guardian from the junior campus.

"Look at you!" she said with a huge smile on her face, reaching forward to hug me.

"Yeah. Swollen ankles, which happily I can no longer see, and a belly so big it needs its own zip code. Pregnancy is wonderful," I bitched.

"There must be some good bits?" Alberta asked, the corner of her lip twitching.

"Belikov having to rescue Rose from the toilet on the plane was pretty funny," Kirk joked, stepping out of my reach before I could backhand him. "It was too low down, and she couldn't get up without help!"

"Kirk? Was that you volunteering to come back with a van by yourself to move all the baby equipment up to the guest quarters? Well, that's very generous of you," Pavel said giving the younger man a flat stare, reminding him not to antagonize the pregnant maniac e.g. me. Although it had been a good day, so far. Other than the meltdown when I couldn't find anything comfortable to wear, my freak out when I refused to come because I was worried about going to go into labor on the plane, and then getting stuck on the toilet on the plane and sitting there for twenty minutes before I could overcome my pride and call out for Dimitri to help me. I'd only cried twice so far today!

Poor Dimitri was at his wit's end with me. One moment I'd be all over him, wanting love, attention or sometimes some intimate satisfaction – then an hour later I'd be locking myself in the bathroom not wanting to be seen while so enormous and unattractive. I was giving the man whiplash with my mood swings, and he was doing his best not to get cranky with me; even when I decided at 2 am I wanted to organize the nursery differently, only to decide after an hour and a half of him moving the single bed, cot, change table, rocking chair and bookcase into different positions that I liked it best as it initially was.

"Now we've put you in a comfortable room in guest quarters, on the ground floor, so you don't have to climb any stairs. It's as far away from the other rooms as I can make it with so many staying, and I've put Dimitri's mother in the next unit, so you're nice and close but still have your own space," Alberta said kindly. "When's your mother arriving, Dimitri?"

"She's coming in with Abe's Guardians from Omsk tomorrow. They're flying into New York, then on to Chicago and Abe's plane will be bringing them the rest of the way," Dimitri answered in excitement. While he'd seen her a few months ago, it had been for mere hours. I knew my Russian God was eager to see his Mama. I was nervous as hell about meeting her. Who wants to meet their mother-in-law for the first time when they're thirty-seven weeks pregnant?!

"She's going to love you. In fact, she already does," Dimitri reassured me before I'd even opened my mouth. This was far from a new concern, so Dimitri knew the warning signs and headed me off at the pass.

Pretending not to see Dimitri's pleading looked to Alberta, I just went with it when the older Dhampir I all but considered my mother quickly continued, "Now you're welcome to go to the cafeteria or the Guardian's lounge if you want anything. The kitchen said to pop past if you want to collect ingredients to cook. You can order anything you want from their menu, but if you have something specific in mind to eat, they'll do their best to cook it if you give them some warning."

I nodded, just wanting to get into the air-conditioned bus. It must be close to ninety degrees out, and I couldn't cope with the heat.

Because we were in the summer holidays there'd only be a handful of students on campus; orphaned Dhampir or those signed over to the Academy as I'd been. The Academy was running on human time, using the absence of Moroi to accomplish the various maintenance tasks that needed doing, all of which were easier to do in daylight.

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