Another good sign that the decision I’d made after putting P.M. to bed was the right one. “So, I see no problem with you adopting P.M., especially since we haven’t officially put her in the system. The only issue is she’ll need an intense amount of round-the-clock care over the next few weeks….”
“We can do that,” Ruthie’s mother answered before I could finish. “I oversee a nationwide network of domestic abuse shelters, so I mostly work from the house these days.”
“And I get home from school at, like, two, now that the volleyball season is done,” Ruthie added. “I can take over in the afternoons.”
“And if neither of them is available, I will hire someone to oversee her care,” Mount Nik added.
I nodded, a little shocked but so, so happy for P.M. I couldn’t imagine even a cute and fluffy golden doodle receiving the kind of enthusiastic attention that this mangled pit bull was getting from Mount Nik’s family.
But then I had to scrunch my forehead. “The only issue is that you live in Indiana, so I’m not sure how we can transfer her to your place in her current condition.”
They stared back at me in blank shock.
Then Ruthie turned to Artyom and said, “Wow, Yommie, you told her absolutely nothing about us. Way to make your family feel loved.”
“The world is not revolving around your feelings, Cousin Rusha,” Artyom sneered from his seat beside me.
“See, that’s probably why Lydia doesn’t want to claim you as her boyfriend.” Ruthie sucked her teeth. “Maybe if you were nicer to folks…”
“He’s been nice enough where P.M. is concerned.” Without thinking, I rushed to Artyom’s defense. “He not only got her the medical help she needed, but he made sure she was matched with the perfect family.”
Ruthie abruptly went from glaring at Artyom to smirking at me. “So, yourassociateis growing on you, then?”
“Ruthie, stop,” her mother said. She shook her head and threw me an apologetic look. “I swear, the only thing worse than a Rustanov man is a Rustanov teenager. I’d say they’re like a dog with a bone, but I could always get Backup to drop her bones.”
Good joke. I laughed. Weakly.
Then Mount Nik added, “What my daughter is trying to say is, you do not need to worry about getting P.M. to our home. We will, of course, take care of it.”
And take care of it, they did. It turned out that Mount Nik and his family were the opposite kind of rich from my father, who always needed a reason to spend even a dollar on what he called my “literal pet projects.”
I guess this was the difference between millions and billions because this branch of the Rustanovs didn’t mind burning through tens of thousands of dollars to arrange for a special ambulance to take P.M. to the medivac plane they had ordered to Gemidgee Regional Airport.
Ruthie’s mother, who insisted I call her Sam, got on the phone, and in less than three hours, not only was a beautiful and delicious brunch delivered to the lake house, but also, a veterinary flight nurse showed up about an hour after we finished eating.
He’d already been briefed by Dr. Kovacs, and unlike me, the nurse came equipped with a special doggie stretcher and plenty of sedatives for P.M. to make the three-hour trip to Indiana.
“Don’t worry,” the nurse assured me as I stroked the black pittie’s uninjured leg while we both waited for her to pass back out on the bed he’d rolled in behind him. “By the time she wakes up, she’ll be fully situated in her new home.”
Her new home...
I wasn’t in a relationship with Artyom, but I’d grown to love the family who took P.M. in by the time a car arrived to ferry them to their own private plane.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Ruthie as I stood on my tiptoes to hug her goodbye.
“No, thankyou. You have no idea how happy you’ve made my mom,” Ruthie answered with a laugh. But then she pulled back to say, “And just a word of advice about your boyfriend….”
“Seriously, he’s not my boyfriend—” I started to explain. Again.
“Yet,” Ruthie cut me off to add. “Ask my mom and just about every woman who married into this family, including the current vice president of the United States. The harder you fight a Rustanov who’s in love with you, the harder they’ll make you fall.”
For a moment, I could only stare at her in shock. “Where did you get the idea that he was...? He’s totally not in?—”
“Okay, girl, bye,” she said with a dismissive wave, as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. “Can’t wait to see you at the next family wedding. Just make sure you two use protection. We don’t need any more secret babies in our family line!”
What?
The bold teenager walked off before I could ask any of my follow-up questions, and then Sam swooped in with another hug—and her business card.
