“Close your eyes!” he called out as I squealed in horror.
“You are driving like a crazy man!” I cried back, holding onto the sides of my seat for dear life. We were in
in Alex’s homeland and he was proving to me that he literally gets away with
anything except for murder when he was here.
Of course this included driving like a maniac. “My Mama made ya promise to bring me back to
the States, alive and well!” Russia
“No, I’m fairly sure she say not to bring you home pregnant,” he recited proudly before negotiating a sharp turn, causing me to scream.
“I think that all falls in the same category,” I breathed, now clutching my chest. We were only here for an hour and already I was second guessing this decision. I would be spending the whole month here before heading back to the States. My bakery was left in the capable hands of my mother and my only employee who had turned out to be a budding pastry chef after I showed her a few things. “And since that rule was already broken before we even left
soil, I’m certain I have every right to be freaking out right now.” U.S.
“Oh, okay,” Alex calmly said, hitting the breaks, suddenly making the speed limit feel like turtle-speed. My breathing began to lower immediately. “It feels soooo good to be home!” he stretched his hands out the windows, despite it meaning he wasn’t going to have his hands on the wheel. I just looked the other way and smiled at his craziness. Not only was his attitude crazy today, but so was his clothing choice for the day. He was in a pair of jeans that hugged his butt, and of course I wasn’t complaining about that, but I was still trying to figure out the t-shirt he was wearing today that was purple with some gaudy cartoon drawing on it. Even after the several months of being with him, I still questioned his fashion choices. However, after stepping off the plain in Moscow, I was quickly realizing that it could possibly be a country wide epidemic.
The last several months with Alex had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Gone were my nights of hiding out in my bedroom with my eyes glued to cooking shows. Life was now all about the love of my life, the Russian playboy, Alexander Ovechkin. I informed my mom and dad that I was still positive Alex was the leader of the Russian Mafia, but they just laughed and told me I was silly. I knew better. I swear Alex had more contacts than the Prince of Whales. Whatever Alex wanted, Alex got and as his girlfriend, that meant I too was apart of all those perks. Too bad it didn’t matter as much to me as it might a girl who was into all the material things in the world. I just went with it.
I got used to the occasional paparazzi. I even got used to the fan girls coming into my bakery warning me that Alex was cheating on me with them. However, little did they know, I was the one he slept with every night and every night he was in another city, I was the one he called to talk to for hours at a time. Sure, he still was a flirt and would probably always be, but he had done nothing to cause me to mistrust him. Besides, Sasha would have had his head, along with the majority of the rest of his team. And now there was this new piece of the puzzle that we would be sharing within the next 6 months.
As soon as Lana told me she was pregnant, there was no option for her; she had to come home to
with me this summer. I didn’t expect her
to put up a fight, but either way, I made it clear to her that my Grandmother
had to be the first to know the news and that we were going to tell her in
“That actually works out perfect,” Lana smiled, tears still in her eyes after we got the news from the doctor. “It will be the end of the first trimester and I will feel safe telling people.”
The pregnancy wasn’t planned, but that is how every day was for me. I was never one to make plans. Instead, I was a firm believer that life just happened and we were along for the ride. It was the happiest day of my life when Lana came slinking out of the bathroom holding up the pregnancy test. Somehow we were both able to keep it a secret. In a little over a half an hour, the most important woman in my life was going to know she was going to be a great-grandmother.
Once I slowed down to the speed limit, Lana became quiet, seeming to take in the scenery around her as I drove. I would point out a few landmarks here and there, but she stayed quiet. “What’s wrong Little Lana?” I finally asked, taking her small hand in mine.
She looked over at me and bit her lip. “I guess I’m just a little nervous. I mean I haven’t even met your grandmother…”
“What are you worried about?!” I chuckled. “Your newly learned Russian will please her to no-end I’m sure,” I smiled reassuringly over at her. It was true. Lana had picked up Rosetta-Stone and began learning my native tongue. Despite the Southern accent, she really was doing a great job with it.
“I guess. You just speak so highly of her and I’m afraid I won’t measure up.”
“The baby is talking in you again.”
“You mean my hormones,” she laughed lightly.
“Yes, that’s what I mean. Your baby hormones.” Those baby hormones were not only making her a worry wart, but they also had a way of making her glow. I could swear her boobs already jumped two sizes, giving me even more to put in my hands. Lana was going to be a beautiful pregnant woman.
“Ah,” she rolled her eyes and squeezed my hand.
“Don’t worry. She will love you. How do I know? I know because you are exactly like her. You both never give up on me,” I said plainly before leaning over and kissing her on the head.
Lana smiled softly at me and nodded her head.
Once we arrived at my house, Lana was back to her normal self, talking up a storm as me and my mother showed her around the place for the first time. “So we can go swimming in the lake?!” she asked excitedly when she looked out our bedroom window and saw the backyard where my cousins were already splashing around in the warm summer sun.
“Is that okay?”
“It reminds me of my grandma’s house,” she turned and hugged me. “I love it.”
I couldn’t help but smile largely. “Good. I’m glad. One day he will love it too,” I whispered into her hair, slipping my hand between us and rubbing her belly.
“It might be a she yo know,” Lana pulled back to look down at my hand and then up at me with a frown.
“He or she. No matter,” I reassured her. I figured either way the baby was going to grow up carrying my name.
“I want the baby to learn both of our languages,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I want the baby to have a southern accent,” I chuckled.
“I want the baby to have your blue eyes.”
“I’d be okay with your brown eyes,” I said, gently swiping a piece of her dark brown hair off of her face and placing it behind her ear. Every time I looked at her I couldn’t help but think back to when I didn’t even take the time to give her a second glance. She was beautiful and now that she was pregnant, she had that glow all women seem to have when there is life growing inside of them. Between the freckles on her nose and the sparkle in her eyes, I always saw her perfectly each time I closed my eyes when we weren’t together.
Lana rolled her eyes and buried her face in my chest. “This baby is going to be so spoiled.”
“Baby?” a familiar, elderly female voice rang out behind us in Russian. “You come here, run around the house without even finding me and now you talk about having babies?!” my grandmother scolded with humor in her tone.
Lana quickly stepped out of my arms and spun around to find my Grandmother standing there with her hands on her hips. I knew Lana had no clue what the woman had said.
I walked over and scooped my Grandmother into my arms and laughed. “Silly woman, using that tone might make my girlfriend think she is not welcome,” I chirped playfully in my native tongue. “Besides, I couldn’t find you!”
“I was out back on the porch waiting for you my son,” she said quietly, squeezing me tightly. “You are happy,” she remarked.
“You have found the one.”
I didn’t say anything more. Instead I pulled back from my grandmother and turned to Lana, reaching out my hand, willing her to come over to me. She was biting her lip nervously and attempting a shy smile at the same time. “Lana, this is my Babushka,” I said, taking my Grandmother’s hand and Lana’s, joining them between me.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Lana spoke timidly in Russian. “Alex speaks so much of you that I feel I already know you,” she continued, only botching up a word or two, but nothing to take away from the meaning of it.
The smile on my Grandmother’s face was priceless. She leaned in, kissed both of Lana’s cheeks and then pressed her hand to Lana’s belly. “So you carry my great-grandchild?” she asked happily in my native language.
Lana nodded her head and smiled.
Grammy turned to me and said, “Amazing things come in packages that we don’t always expect,” she said, referring to the fact that Lana wasn’t the Russian woman she had spoke about me settling down with last summer.
I laughed in agreement and believed even more that my Grandmother was a soothe-sayer. Even without yet knowing the story of how Lana and I had become a couple, she still spoke the absolute truth.