It began with a package from home. Well, a lot of packages, actually. AJ stood back, staring in vaguely stunned amazement as the delivery men went back and forth to their van, bringing out carefully wrapped oblongs of all sizes and placing them carefully in the hallway inside the door. One of the men stopped about halfway through their unloading, glancing down not so subtly to her gently rounded tummy.

"Sure you don't want us to bring them further inside, ma'am?" he asked her politely. "Hate to think of you straining yourself trying to move them all later."

Blushing a little, more at being called 'ma'am' than anything, AJ moved over to the growing pile of packages and lifted one, testing the weight. It wasn't that heavy at all, really, more awkward than anything, and besides, she was pregnant, not paraplegic. She smiled encouragingly at him, gently replacing the package as his colleague laid another on the pile.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you," she assured him, stepping back out of the way again. She caught his skeptical look and laughed. "Seriously. If I move them before my husband gets home, I'll do it one at a time, and I'll take a lot of breaks. How's that for compromise?"

Chuckling at his own concern for a woman he didn't know, the delivery man nodded and returned to his work, and between the two men, the fourteen packages were quickly brought in and placed down carefully. AJ signed for the packages, still at a loss as to what on earth they could be, and was presented with an envelope which apparently had been ordered to be given to her after she'd signed, so she couldn't tell them to take it all back again. She snorted with laughter as she shut the door behind them; only one person would do that to a delivery company. And sure enough, the letter was from her mother.

'Darling Ammy,

I realise this may be a bit of a shock to you in your present condition - '

"Present condition?" AJ argued aloud, laughing. "I'm pregnant, mom, it's not a crime to admit to it."

'- present condition, but when I'd had a chance to think about the opportunities you seem to be getting there in that RhyDin place, or whatever it's called, I thought I should extend the olive branch even further. The packages that should have arrived with this letter contain your paintings from when you were studying at the Institute - I suppose you might say they make up the work of your apprenticeship, since you have made journeyman so quickly.

They are yours to do with as you like, and as such, I've sent them to you for that purpose. I did, however, retain one for my personal gallery; I do hope you do not mind. It is the rough portrait of myself and your father arguing over the breakfast table.'

AJ frowned thoughtfully, and then fell about laughing, remembering quite clearly the painting her mother was talking about. She'd painted it when she was eighteen; it wasn't actually of them arguing, but of them talking. Her skills hadn't been quite up to scratch then, obviously.

'I do not know what you could do with the paintings, but they are yours by right, a chronicle of your skill as it has improved. Perhaps your employer may have some use of them, yes"

Your father and I are very much looking forward to hearing what you decide to do. In person, perhaps" If this tentative peace is to last, I think perhaps that you and Stas should come to visit us. You are both very welcome here, whenever you wish. I do hope you know that.'

"Trying too hard, mom," AJ muttered as she scanned the page.

'Hoping this finds you in the best of health, and my love to you and your husband,

Mother.'

AJ sat back on her heels from where she had ended up in the hallway, her eyes wide with just the faintest hint of disbelief. Her mother really was going all out for this making friends lark, wasn't she" Shame it still sounded scripted, though. Still, it was a start. She smiled, looking fondly over at the packages in front of her. Her paintings ....she could remember the trials and tribulations of painting every one of them. Fourteen pieces of passable artwork in six years of study, fifteen if you counted the picture her mother had elected to keep. Not a bad haul to show for her time at college really.

Lordy, what would Stas say if he stumbled over them just coming in through the front door" For that matter, what kind of fit would he have if she moved them by herself into another room' She rolled her eyes, climbing to her feet. Caught coming and going, it seemed. Or ....she turned thoughtfully, hazel eyes coming to rest on the telephone on the wall. She could always call in help.

A slow smirk touched her lips. Yep, Stas couldn't object if she called a couple of the apprentices she worked with over to help her move the packages. And she had a feeling, just as her mother had said, that Gregory Chalmers - the master of the studio where she worked - would be at least interested to see what she had here. Problem solved.

Now ....how to break the news to her husband that they were going to be visiting the in-laws from hell"