Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(69)

“Yeah?” Maybe I shouldn’t have started with that.

“Huh. Not what I was expecting.” There’s rustling and then his voice is muffled when he says, “Hang on. I’m throwing on some clothes.”

I try to block my imagination from running rampant with that visual. It already ran wild with Josh’s gravelly morning voice. But I can hear the cotton whoosh of a t-shirt and the zipping up of jeans and it’s hard not to think what’s happening on the other side of the phone line.

“I’m back. Are you alright? You sick?”

“No, no, I feel great.” I’m a little surprised at that, but I feel completely fine. I haven’t actually spoken to Josh since Valentine’s Day, and before anything else is said, I need to clear the air. “Look, I don’t know why you went all Hulk on Ian, but I trust you had a good reason.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I continue, “When we went back to his place there was another woman. She was naked and, well, I left. I won’t be going out with him again.”

There’s a whole lot more pain behind last weekend than those three sentences can convey, but I try to keep it short and light.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he says in a low voice, “I’m sorry, Gem. You okay?”

It’s funny. I realize that he could’ve said, “I told you so,” or “I could’ve told you he was an ass.” In fact, Leah probably will say that. Brook too.

But Josh doesn’t. He just asks if I’m okay.

And him asking me if I’m okay rather than telling me I should’ve known better is enough to make me wipe at my eyes. “I’m alright. You know me, I’m a true believer that there’s always a bright side, always something positive in every situation.”

That’s been my core belief, the mantra that has kept me afloat for years. It was the first quote I found on Ian’s website all those years ago. I believe it with all my heart.

“That’s true, but I do have one question,” Josh says.

Oh. Here it comes, the “why couldn’t you see Ian was a poser?” question.

“Yeah? What is it?”

I hold my breath as a city bus passes and kicks up a cloud of feather-light snow and city dirt.

Then Josh says with a smile in his voice, “I’m glad you’re okay. But where in the heck does the puke come in?”

I let out my breath in a laugh, “Let’s just say it was my form of a sucker punch.”

I don’t know how I can tell, but I know that on the other end of the line Josh is grinning. “The universe has a way of giving us exactly what we need.”

I chuckle and then look both ways before hurrying across the street. That’s one of Ian’s most famous sayings. So much so that even Josh knows it.

I’m halfway to my apartment, passing one of my favorite bagel shops. Somedays I stop and grab a cinnamon and raisin bagel slathered with butter, but today, I just want to get back to my place and wait for the phone call that’ll be coming anytime.

And wouldn’t it be wonderful if Josh were there too?

“So anyway, the reason I’m calling is because I’m playing hooky again.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, and his voice has gone all low and warm. I blush when I realize that he must be thinking of the reason for the last time I played hooky.

“Right. Yeah. So, I was wondering if you wanted to come down?”

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds surprised.

My cheeks feel hot.

“Well, I mean, I’m going to find out the pregnancy results today and I thought…I thought…” Suddenly, stupidly, I’m nervous. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I thought it’d be nice if you were here too.”

My chest feels tight as I wait for him to respond. I’m not sure why, but it’s hard to take a breath, and when I do, the icy air pinches my lungs. Finally, I decide that I’m an idiot, and I shouldn’t have asked, because this whole thing has been for me, not Josh, he’s just tagged along because he’s a friend, a nice guy, a— “I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

I let out a whoosh of air and it fogs in front of me in a haze of relief.





Four hours later I open the door for Josh.

I spent the entire time he was on the train pacing around my apartment checking my phone for missed calls from Dr. Ingraham’s office and scrolling through my symptoms list.

Pregnant or not pregnant.

Pregnant or not pregnant.

Josh looks at me expectantly. His hair is mussed as if he ran his hands through it for the entire train ride. He’s wearing a well-worn leather jacket, a t-shirt and jeans and he has a bag with him that is usually full of his drawing pads and pencils. When I buzzed him in I heard him take the stairs two at a time. Looking at his face, the question in his eyes, I’m so, so glad that he’s here.

I wave him in and then point at my phone. I’m on the line with the nurse. She phoned right when Josh arrived.

I nod and let her finish her instructions. My heart gallops around my chest like a wild horse trying to kick down a fence. Josh closes the door behind him, pulls off his coat, and then watches me with quiet intensity.

I don’t remember him ever looking at me like this before. Like I’m the only thing in the whole world worthy of his complete and utter focus. I try to take in the nurse’s instructions, try to hear everything she’s telling me, but my mind is swirling around and my heart is still trying to jump out of my chest.