Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(90)

I give a surprised laugh. Then I squeeze her in another quick hug. “You’re going to be a good mom,” I tell her.

She gives me a watery smile. “Obviously. I quit smoking, my husband has magic ice sperm, I won my last case. I can do anything.”

I laugh.

Hannah calls from the stairs, “Come on. The rats are looking at me from the dark, it’s creepy. Next time, we really should meet at the Ritz.”

“Huh,” Brook says.

Then, we all look at each other and say, “Nah.”

Instead of parting ways, we walk to the subway together. It’s nearly March and the weather is warming up. I tilt my face up to the night sky.

It’s been a good day. I quit my job, got Josh’s journal back for him, apologized to my friends and found the courage that I didn’t know I had.

I finger the printed copy of Josh’s comic in my pocket.

I’ve never regretted the doing.





30





I spent the entire night reading seven years’ worth of comics. And after nearly twelve hours of reading, three things are obvious. One, Josh is a genius. Two, he needs a social media marketing coordinator for his legion of fans. Three, he loves me.

He really, really loves me.

Halfway through the series I grabbed my purse and coat, hailed a taxi to Grand Central and caught the early morning commuter train north.

I stare at the last entry. Josh uploaded it last night.

The main character Grim is traveling across the galaxy, leaving behind any hope of being with the woman he’s wanted for so long. He’ll be gone for a year if not more. The last panel shows a picture of Grim and Jewel an entire galaxy apart.

I’m Jewel.

I’m the girl in Josh’s comics.

When Hannah and Brook wanted to know if Grim would ever end up with Jewel and Josh looked at me and said he didn’t know, it’s because he was waiting on me to answer him.

He’s been writing me a love letter for years, and I never knew.

I never knew.

The train slows to a stop at my station. I grab my purse and coat and jump to the platform. Josh’s dad’s place is only a half mile from the station, so instead of catching a taxi, I run. Because you know what? When you realize you love someone and that you want to spend the rest of forever with them, you want forever to start right now.

So, I run.





Josh doesn’t answer. I knock and knock and knock, but he doesn’t answer. The lights in the house aren’t on and the door isn’t unlocked (like usual). The spare key isn’t under the mat. I knock some more. Then I pull out my cellphone and dial Josh’s number.

It goes to voicemail.

“Josh. Hey. I’m at your dad’s place. Are you here? Come answer the door.”

He doesn’t.

And he doesn’t call back.

I start to text him, but I spin around when a car pulls into the drive. It’s him, it’s him, it’s…Dylan.

“Whatcha doing in town, Gem?” he calls from his car window. “Mom’s making pancakes and bacon this morning, want some?”

I stare at Dylan. He works the night shift and when he’s lucky, my mom pampers him with breakfast before he heads to his place and crashes.

“Gemma? I’m tired. You want pancakes or not? Stop knocking on Josh’s door. He’s not there.”

My stomach drops. “Where is he?”

Dylan gives me a funny look. “He took the train down to the city this morning. Or last night. Dunno. He has a flight to London today.”

I hurry over to Dylan’s car and jump in the passenger seat.

Josh already left for his tour? He didn’t say goodbye. Does that mean he’ll be gone for a year? That he doesn’t think there’s any hope?

He didn’t say goodbye.

“So, you’re up for breakfast? Cool, sis, cool. I’ve been meaning to ask you—”

“Take me to the train station.”

“Huh?”

“Dylan. If you care about your personal health and safety, put this car in reverse and drive as fast as legally permissible to the train station.”

He looks behind him, then back to me, then behind him again.

“Dylan! Just drive.”

Maybe if I can get back to the city in time I can catch Josh before he leaves.

“I can’t,” Dylan says.

“Why not?”

He gestures behind him.

I turn and look. Leah, Oliver and the four kids are loaded into one of those twelve seat rental vans. The kids wave at us from the windows. They’re blocking the driveway so Dylan can’t pull out.

“What the heck?” I jump out and run to Leah’s window.

“Hey Gemma! We were going to come down to the city and surprise you. Mom and Dad were coming too. We’re going to do Broadway and dinner.”

“Hey Auntie Gemma,” all the kids chorus from the back.

“Hey guys, hey Oliver,” I say.

Dylan shouts out his car window. “I’m tired, Leah. I want Mom’s pancakes. Move your creeper van!”

Leah rolls her eyes. “Anyway, what are you doing up here?”

My stomach flips over and my purse feels heavy with the weight of Josh’s journal and print-outs of my favorite parts of his comics.