Princess in Waiting by Meg Cabot Page A

lights of
    Manhattan below me. It brought tears to my eyes, knowing I was once again in the air space over my
    beloved city. Below me, I knew, cab drivers
    were running down litde old ladies (unfortunately not Grandmere); deli owners were short-changing their
    customers;
    investment bankers were not cleaning up after their dogs; and people all over town were having their
    dreams of becoming
    a singer, actress, musician, novelist, or dancer completely crushed by soulless producers, directors,
    agents, editors and choreographers.
    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