Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(17)

“I’ve dreamed of kissing you since the first time I saw you,” Ian said.

Tiny snowflakes swirled down as he slowly turned me toward him and kissed me. His lips were cold and I shivered in the frosty night air.

He pulled away after a few seconds, then grinned at me, his chin dimple deepening at his expression. “You should always believe the universe is going to give you good things, because sooner or later, it will.”

I smiled back. “You’re right.”





Back in my apartment I change into a well-loved pair of cozy flannel pajamas with my favorite snowflake print and climb into bed. I put my phone on the nightstand and set my alarm. It’s then I notice a missed call.

Josh.

I look closer. He called at nine thirty. Right about when Ian and I were talking about him. Mandar, I swear he has man radar.

I open my phone and check to see if he left a message. There’s nothing.

Then, thinking about what Ian said about believing the universe is conspiring to deliver good things, I hit redial.

I pull my comforter around me and wait for Josh to pick up.

He doesn’t, the call goes through to voicemail.

“This is Josh. Who calls anymore? Send a text. Anyway. Leave a message.”

I smile and lean my elbows on my knees. “Hey. Josh. It’s me, Gemma. Umm, I saw you called. I thought, maybe you’d changed your mind about the donor thing? Or not. I don’t know. I still stand by what I said, I feel like you’d be great, soooo…right, anyway, my next appointment is tomorrow. If you want to come, you can meet me there. It’s at four o’clock in Midtown.”

I give him the address and then say, “Sorry, if I made you feel like an object. Or if you were offended. I don’t think of you like an object. I think you’re a good guy. Like maybe, we could be friends. You don’t have to be friends only with Dylan. You could be friends with me too, you know.” I realize that I’m rambling and his voicemail will probably cut me off soon, so I say, “Alright, that’s all. I hope I see you tomorrow. But if not, I understand. That’s okay, too. And thanks for not telling anyone. I’m not quite ready for my family to know yet.”

I hang up.

For a good five minutes I sit cross-legged in my bed and stare at my phone’s display waiting for Josh to call back.

He doesn’t.

Finally, I put my phone down, turn off my light, and try to go to sleep.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is another day, another step forward.





9





I can’t believe it. It’s quarter to four, I’m waiting for the crosswalk light to change, and Josh freaking Lewenthal is leaning against the stone wall of the doctor’s office. He hasn’t noticed me yet. His shoulders are hunched and his hands are in his pockets. He looks out over the traffic, his eyebrows drawn down, his mouth curved in a pensive frown.

“Josh. Hey!” I wave, but the traffic noise covers my shout. He doesn’t see me, but the woman standing next to me gives me a sharp look. The crosswalk light still hasn’t changed.

I bounce up and down in my snow boots and try to get a better view of Josh. I can’t believe he came. When he didn’t call back or text I thought for sure that his call from last night was a butt dial or a fluke.

I was ninety-nine percent prepared to march into my appointment today and tell Dr. Ingraham I’d be using an anonymous donor. But Josh is here.

The flood of relief and happiness that flows through me makes me realize just how much I wanted a familiar face to help in this.

I watch as Josh takes a breath and lets out a long sigh, then he shakes his head like he’s arguing with himself. He pushes off the wall and starts to walk away, shoulders hunched.

Is he leaving?

“Josh!” I shout.

The woman next to me glares.

Josh stops, turns back around, and leans against the wall again.

Thank goodness.

Finally, the traffic stops and the crosswalk signal changes. I slosh through the winter slush and hurry toward Josh.

When I’m a few feet away I see him take a deep, steadying breath and then run his hand over his face.

I stop next to him and shift on my feet, suddenly, I feel incredibly awkward. I bite my lip and clear my throat to let him know I’m here.

Josh looks over at me in surprise, and I watch as the worry line between his brows vanishes and he gives me his devil-may-care/life’s-a-playground smile.

“Hey. You came. I didn’t think you would. I…” My throat feels thick with tears and I realize how scared I really was to go down this path, but Josh being here, giving me his isn’t-this-amusing smile makes everything okay. On impulse, I rush him and throw my arms around his neck.

He lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles a bit, then stands awkwardly as I squeeze my arms around him. He’s as stiff as a statue.

“Hug me back, you ding dong,” I say, and I press my face into the warmth of his coat.

He lets out a rumbly chuckle that vibrates in his chest. Then he shakes his head and wraps his arms around me. “You’re a strange one, Gemma Jacobs.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I squeeze him harder and bounce up and down, keeping my arms wrapped around him. Finally, I pull away and take a good look at him.

His nose is pink from the cold, he must’ve been standing outside waiting for me for a while. His hair is ruffled from the wind, he has a day or two worth of stubble, and he looks more tired than usual. Even though he’s giving me his usual smile, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes. Maybe doubt, or worry, or…I don’t know, the emotion is like a snowflake that has landed on warm skin, there for a moment, and then gone.