Mia Goes Fourth

Yes, I was back in my beautiful New York. I was back home at last.

I especially knew it when I stepped off the plane, and there was Lars, waiting for me, ready to take over body-guarding

duty from Francois, the guy who had looked after me in Genovia, and who had taught me all the French swear words. Lars looked especially menacing on account of being all darkly tanned from his month off. He had spent his Winter Break with

Tina Hakim Baba's bodyguard, Wahim, snorkelling and hunting wild boar in Belize. He gave me a piece of tusk as a

memento of his trip, even though of course I don't approve of killing animals recreationally, even wild boars, who really

can't help being so ugly and mean.

Then, sixty-five minutes later, thanks to a pile-up on the Long Island Expressway, I was home.

It was so good to see my mom!!!!! She is beginning to show now. I didn't want to say anything because even though my

mom says she does not believe in the Western standard of idealized beauty and thinks that there is nothing wrong with a

woman who is bigger than a size eight, I'm pretty sure that if I had said anything like, 'Mom, you're huge,' even in a complimentary fashion, she would start to cry. After all, she still has more than four months left to go.

So instead I just went, as I tried to hug her close even though her belly is starting to get in the way, That baby has to be

a boy. Or if it's not it's a girl who is going to be as tall as me.'

'Oh, I hope so,' my mom said, as she brushed tears of joy from her face — or maybe she was crying because Fat Louie

was biting her ankles so hard in his effort to get near me. 'I could use another you for when you aren't around. I missed

you so much! There was no one to berate me for ordering ' roast pork and wonton soup from Number One Noodle Son.'

'I tried,' Mr. Gianini assured me.

Mr. G looks great, too. He is growing a goatee beard. I pretended I liked it.

Then I bent down and picked up Fat Louie, who was yowling to get my attention, and gave him a great big hug. I may be wrong, but I think he lost weight while I was away. I do not want to accuse anyone of purposely starving him, but I noticed

his dry-food bowl was not completely full. In fact, it was perilously close to being only half full. I always keep Fat Louie's

bowl filled to the brim, because you never know when there might be a sudden plague, killing everyone in Manhattan but

cats. Fat Louie can't pour out his own food, having no thumbs, so he needs a little extra just in case we all die and there is

no one around to open the bag for him.

But the loft looks so great!!!!!!!! Mr. Gianini did a lot to it while I was gone. He got rid of the Christmas tree - the first time

in the history of the Thermopolis household that the Christmas tree was out of the loft by Easter - and had the place wired

for DSL. So now you can email or go on the Internet anytime you want, without tying up the phone.

It is like a Christmas miracle.

And that's not all. Mr. G also fully redid the darkroom, leftover from when my mom was going through her Ansel Adams

stage. He pulled the boards off the windows and got rid of all the noxious chemicals that have been sitting around since

forever because my mom and I were too afraid to touch them. Now the darkroom is going to be the baby's room! It is so sunny and nice in there. Or at least it was until my mom started painting the walls with scenes of important historical

significance, such as the trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and the assassination of Martin Luther King, so that, she says,

the baby will have an understanding of all the problems facing our nation (Mr. G assured me privately that he is going to

paint over the whole thing as soon as my mom gets admitted to the maternity ward. She will never know the difference

once the endorphins kick in. All I can say is thank God Mom picked a man with so much common sense with whom to reproduce this time around).

But the best thing of all was what was waiting for me on the answering machine. My mom played it for me proudly

almost the minute I walked through the door.

IT WAS A MESSAGE FROM MICHAEL!!!! MY FIRST MESSAGE FROM MICHAEL SINCE

I BECAME HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!

Which of course means it worked. The my-not-calling-him thing, I mean.

The message goes like this:

'Uh, hi, Mia? Yeah, it's Michael. I was just wondering if you could, uh, call me when you get this message. '

Cause I haven't heard from you in a while. And I just want to know if you're, uh, OK. And make sure you got home all right. And that there's nothing wrong. OK. That's all. Well. Bye. This is Michael, by the way. Or