Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(92)

“What?” he asks.

I shake my head. I feel deflated. Hugely, unbelievably deflated.

On the first day of this year I told myself that I didn’t care about Josh, that I just needed his sperm. Now, I realize that I’ve never been more wrong in my life. It’s not about making a baby with Josh, it’s just about being with Josh.

The two of us. Together. Come what may.

I reach up and wipe a tear from my cheek.

“Don’t cry, Auntie Gemma,” Sasha says.

“That’s right,” Colin says, “like you say, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

My lips wobble as I take my family in.

“Alright. Okay.”

I walk out to the sidewalk and look around, try to consider my options. I could call Josh, tell him how I feel over the phone, but shouldn’t something like this be said in person?

My family crowds onto the sidewalk.

A short copper-haired woman tries to push her way through. “Excuse me. Quit blocking the sidewalk, would ya? Move.”

I grin. “Brook. Leave my family alone.”

Brook looks at me in surprise then she takes in my family. “Why are they blocking the sidewalk? What are you doing out here?”

Sasha jumps up and down. “She came to find Josh Lewenthal.”

“’Cause she loves him,” says Maemie.

“Shhh,” Leah says.

“But he’s in London,” Mary says.

My shoulders slump. “Yeah.”

Brook narrows her eyes on me. “You read his comic?”

I nod.

She pulls out her phone. “I have an idea.”

“Does it involve a Learjet?” I ask.

She smirks. “Not quite.”





One train, one bus, and one plane later, I’m in London.

I’m at a spacious hotel and conference center in the outskirts of the city, this year’s location for the annual United Kingdom comic convention. I hold the map and schedule out in front of me. Josh is doing signings in the northeast corner. I adjust the chin-length lime green wig on my head and pull at the spandex dress I’m wearing, trying to stretch it so it fits a little better. I’m a few inches taller than Brook and it’s tight.

The convention is packed. Jam-packed. There has to be at least a thousand people here. Most everyone is dressed up in costume, carrying swag bags or books to be signed. I let out a breath and wade into the mass.

The convention hall is a huge space with high metal-beamed ceilings, bright posters hanging from the walls and the ceiling, and hundreds of decorated booths and tables. The concrete floor amplifies the sound of a thousand excited voices. At the back of the hall is an event stage with a huge movie screen playing loops of anime and comic art. I had no idea so many people would be here. I walk through the thick crowd and try to peer over people’s heads toward the back of the hall.

Finally, I spot Josh.

He’s sitting at a table, talking to a fan, signing a poster for them.

My heart clatters around in my chest and I feel so happy, so glad to see him.

I push through the crowd and walk toward his table. The person signing has left. “Josh,” I call.

I’m only twenty or so feet away when a big, bearded guy in a security uniform stops me. “Whoa, lady. The queue’s back there.” He thrusts his thumb in the direction behind him.

I stumble a bit, then catch myself. I look to Josh. He’s talking to another fan. “Huh?”

“Do you speak English? There’s a queue. Back there.” He speaks slowly, then shakes his head, and says, “Always with the cutting here.”

“But…”

“Queue,” he says. He points and I follow his finger. There’s a line. It has to be two hundred people long. Two hundred people holding posters, or drawings, or comic books, waiting to see Josh.

It’ll take hours to get to the front.

My heart sinks. “But he’ll want to see me. I’m…” Inspiration strikes, “I’m Jewel.”

The guard scowls. “Yeah. And so is that lady, and that lady, and look, that lady too.” The security officer points at a dozen different women wearing the same exact outfit as me.

My face heats and I realize how crazy this is. How stupid.

“No, I mean, I’m actually Jewel.”

The man glares at me and reaches for his walkie-talkie.

“Did you say you’re actually Jewel?” A teenager with a Scottish accent, in the same outfit as me, stops and looks me up and down.

“Yes.” I nod my head quickly. “I flew a really long way to get here, and I need to see Josh. It can’t wait.”

The Scottish girl is with a group of half a dozen friends, all dressed up, looking like hardcore fans.

“You’re shorter than Jewel,” one of the guys says. “And a little more…” He waves his hands in front of his chest. One of the girls smacks him.

I shake my head. Unbelievable.

I look back at the security guard. His arms are folded across his very muscular chest. He’s not letting me by. He scowls and points at the line. I turn back to the group of super fans.

“Look, please. I’m the real Jewel. You’ve been waiting to see what happens with Grim and Jewel, right? Well, it’s happening right now. I’m here. Can you please help me get to him? Please?”