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Emmy And Me
I Don't Know- Alaska

I Don't Know- Alaska

My new office was larger than either the old one in Santa Monica or my office in San Jose, and, to be honest, much more stylish. We’d had the whole place done up by a designer who specialized in high-end law offices, corporate headquarters, and the like. Our two buildings were very different, and he decked them out to match the architecture of each.

As I’d promised Jake, I was moving away from the hands-on approach I’d taken with the property management and development side of things, so my physical office was in the east building. The west building, a contemporary red-brick and smoked glass three-story, held the offices for our real estate investment trust and property management and development divisions. Its interior was similarly contemporary, stylish but very functional.

The east building, a sort of modern interpretation of French Second Empire architecture, held the hospitality division and a space reserved for the entertainment division for when they would finally move in-house. I also ostensibly based the venture capital from that address, too, but really that was still almost all done up in San Jose at that point.

Thankfully, the architect (and designer) had used 18th Century French design as an inspiration, but stayed well away from its excesses. The interior was classy, but simple and relaxing. Mine was the literal corner office on the second floor, with large windows facing Massachusetts and Sepulveda. Trees blocked most of the view of the streets, but that was actually a positive, since the views weren’t pretty. The light still came in, and the green from the leaves was pleasant. I missed the balcony I’d had in Santa Monica, but that was a small price to pay.

I was in a meeting in the conference room in the west building with a Coastal Commission representative, two people from the City of Dana Point and several of my own staff when my phone emitted a distinctive text sound.

I always kept it in silent mode except for texts from Angela and Emmy- I’d set their texts to sound at any time. They rarely texted me at work, but when they did I wanted to know.

“Sorry,” I apologized, as I turned away from the big table to see what Emmy had to say.

“Check your email” she’d texted. Then, a moment later, “Good news from Korea!”

I took a deep breath, then logged into my email from my phone. Sure enough, there was one from the lab in Seoul.

The message was clear, even with the less than perfect English. They’d managed to successfully implant genetic material from Subject A (me) into an egg from Subject C (Angela) and initiated cell division.

I felt a wave of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. This was it. It was really going to work, and we were really going to have babies. Really.

Reading on, the email said that this was a major step, but that this first successful attempt was only a validation of their methods and that it was too early to believe that it could be successfully implanted. In other words, just a test run, and not going to go anywhere.

Still, this meant that we were so very close I could taste it. Visions of little Angela Jr in her mother’s arms filled my mind’s eye, and I had to take a few moments to compose myself before sending off a text to Angela and Emmy.

“We’re almost there. Start thinking about baby names!” I sent, before turning back to the meeting.

“Everything O.K.?” the Dana Point lawyer asked.

“Good news from the fertility clinic,” I said. “Really good news.”

“Well, congratulations,” she said. “In advance.”

“Thanks,” I said with a grateful smile. The Dana Point mayor’s office had been strong allies through the whole process of wrangling the port project through the various hoops thrown up by the Coastal Commission, the state and Orange County. The city wanted it almost as badly as I did, and the mayor had personally campaigned for the redevelopment. Her office had strongly hinted that they’d be open to further investment and would be willing to throw their support behind me if I wanted it.

Rebecca Brown (the lawyer at that meeting) had been particularly helpful, and I’d come to think of her as maybe not a friend, but certainly somebody I’d had a few pleasant lunches with. Unfortunately, since she legally represented the city and I had dealings with them, she wanted to avoid any conflicts of interest. This meant that she’d never accept an invite to our house, for example, or even let me treat her to dinner.

I had had the suspicion that she was gay, too, but neither of us had ever brought the subject up, and I’d long ago given up any belief in my gaydar.

The meeting went well and the Coastal Commission finally signed off on what was now the official plan, meaning we could break ground tomorrow. All the demolition and clearing had been underway for months, so this final rubber stamp meant there would be no interruption.

Thanks to investor jitters I was carrying over seventy per cent of the financial burden, which meant I was on the hook for over three hundred million dollars. I had a whole lot riding on the success of the port redevelopment, but if it panned out it was going to make me a lot of money.

After the meeting wrapped up Rebecca walked out of the conference room with me, clearly wanting to talk in private.

“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, and led her across the parking lot to the east building and up to my office. She looked around, focusing on the big photo of Emmy. Looking less confident than I was used to, she sat down facing my desk.

“Um, Leah,” she began. “I hope I’m not prying, and if I am, please let me know. You mentioned good news from your fertility clinic. Have you and your wife been trying for long?”

“No, it’s O.K.,” I said. “We’ve been planning on having kids for a while, but we wanted to wait until we were settled down before actually really trying. We’ve only really been in a place where we were ready for about a year now.”

“We’ve- um, that is, my wife and I- we’ve been trying for a few years now,” Rebecca said, confirming my suspicions. “As much as I hate to admit it, it’s been really hard on us. Shana, she really wants this, you know? We’ve tried everything, and nothing seems to take. And the hormones! God, what a pain…”

“I know what that’s like,” I agreed.

“Would you recommend the clinic you’re using?” Rebecca asked. “We need to try something new.”

I sighed, and said, “Honestly, I don’t know. We’re not even at the local clinic stage. Everything up to this point has been experimental just to get her eggs to accept fertilization. We’re still a long way from the actual implantation.”

Rebecca leaned back in her chair, her shoulders slumping. “I just don’t know what to do,” she said, despondent.

“I wish I had some advice,” I said, meaning it. “Our situation is, well, probably different than yours. I mean, I can give you the name of our clinic in Beverly Hills, but I can’t guarantee they’re any better than the one you’ve been using. They seem professional and all, and they’ve been willing to accommodate our unusual situation, but when it comes down to it, I have no idea of their relative ability.”

“Beverly Hills? They must be expensive,” Rebecca said.

“Yeah, but not nearly as expensive as the lab trying to fertilize the eggs. That one is costing literal millions of dollars,” I said.

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“The place in Beverly Hills isn’t doing that?” Rebecca asked, curious.

“No, it’s way beyond them,” I said. “They were good about collecting the eggs, and I’m sure they’ll be great at implanting them when the time comes, but the actual fertilization… That’s much more than they’re capable of. In our case, anyway.”

“I was really hoping you had some sort of magic bullet,” Rebecca sighed.

“I wish I did,” I commiserated. “Like I said, this is the first good news in the first step in a long road for us.”

Before she left, I gave Rebecca the information on the clinic and wished her all the best. “Here’s to imminent baby showers!” I said as I walked her to her car.

“God, let’s hope so,” Rebecca said with a groan.

When I got home, Angela was working on her laptop at the kitchen counter. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight. I kissed the top of her head and told her I loved her.

“I’ve been on a cloud all afternoon,” I said after she kissed me back. “I know this is just a step, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

“Oh, I know,” she said with a happy sigh. “Lee, I was starting to worry that the whole thing was just a daydream, and it wouldn’t ever work, you know? But now, it seems real again. Lee, I haven’t told anybody. Not mi mamí, not Jenna, nobody. I don’t want to get too… excited, and then have it not work.”

“I can understand that, babe,” I said, nuzzling her thick, dark hair. “I can really understand that.”

“What can you understand?” Emmy asked, walking into the room.

“Waiting to announce the good news until it’s more real,” Angela said, holding her arms out for Emmy to join us in a three-way hug.

“I had a vision today, imagining holding your little baby- our baby- in my arms,” Emmy told Angela. “She had very blue eyes, and the sweetest smile anyone could imagine.”

Tears welled up in Angela’s eyes at the thought, and she kissed Emmy long and hard. “Em, I want…” she said, but couldn’t find the words.

“I do, too, baby,” Emmy said, kissing away Angela’s tears. “We will have children, and they will be the most beautiful, most loved babies the world has ever seen. And they will be ours, the three of us. We will love them more than any children have been loved before.”

Angela smiled a sweet, teary smile. “I know they will be,” she said. “I already love them.”

We stayed like that, the three of us holding each other in mutual love and understanding for a few more minutes before I broke the silence.

“I want do something with you two,” I said.

“You are a total beast,” Angela said. “Emmy was right.”

Emmy giggled at that and said, “I would not want her to be any other way.”

“Me, neither,” Angela agreed.

I gave them both kisses on top of their heads and squeezed them a little bit tighter. “Well, that, too, but that isn’t what I meant. I just finished all that hassle with the Coastal Commission, and work is, well, going to be slow for me for a little bit. I was thinking the three of us need a break, to just get away for a bit.”

“What did you have in mind?” Emmy asked.

“The other day one of the contractors I work with mentioned that he and his wife had done an Alaska glacier cruise. It was a small ship, with only ten passengers. He said they did rainforest hikes, kayaked… He said it was the best vacation they’d ever done.”

“When?” Angela asked.

“I was thinking we could go right away. I looked into it. The main season is ending, because it’s getting a bit cold and wet, but the advantage is that there’s a greater chance of seeing the Northern Lights in the fall than there is in the summer,” I said.

“I would love to do this,” Emmy said. “I have no commitments that would prevent me from going any time.”

“I could go tomorrow,” Angela agreed. “Well, maybe the day after. I’m gonna need to buy clothes for the cold weather.”

“Yes, me, too,” Emmy agreed, and I could see that the two were already thinking about shopping for cute sweaters.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll book us tickets.”

“Do you have any pictures of the ship?” Angela asked, and with that, the three of us turned to Angela’s laptop so I could bring up the boat’s site. Emmy and Angela clicked back and forth through all the pictures while I dragged out my own computer and confirmed the booking for the eleven day cruise starting that Saturday. I’d already emailed back and forth with the cruise operators and reserved the cabin with the biggest bed and made certain there would be no issues with same-sex relationships, happy to hear that they get quite a few gay passengers and it has never been an issue.

I booked the flights to Sitka and back from Ketchikan, allowing an extra day in both towns just for sightseeing and to keep the trip nice and relaxed.

“You must come with us,” Emmy declared when the subject of shopping came up. I’d realized that it was going to have to be the case, but I still made a show of groaning in dismay.

“Do I hafta?” I whined.

“Yes, you hafta,” Emmy said, her hands on her hips. “You do not own any of the right clothes for a voyage like this.”

I let my shoulders droop in defeat, but really, I was kind of looking forward to it. Still, the game was the game, and it had to be played.

We went that evening to REI, and when Angela mentioned that we were going to Alaska the sales guy asked if we would be stopping in Seattle.

Angela gave me a questioning look, and when I nodded yes, the guy said, “The thing is, we haven’t switched over to our fall and winter gear yet, so we won’t really have that great a selection. But if you’re going to be in Seattle, they’ll have everything. The flagship store is more than twice this size, and it’s gonna be much more geared towards the cold and wet than we are here in sunny Southern California.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I admitted.

Emmy had already spotted a plum-colored jacket that she liked, so it was clear that Seattle wasn’t going to get all our money- some of it was staying there in Santa Monica.

Emmy made the convincing argument that we would need jackets in Seattle, too, so we eventually left the store with Gore-Tex jackets for the three of us, and a few other items.

Back at home, Emmy asked Angela if she was planning on taking her camera.

“Of course,” Angela said, not understanding why Emmy would even ask.

“Do you have the right kind of lenses for taking photos of animals?” Emmy asked.

Giving it some though, Angela said, “I don’t really have any telephoto lenses, just the one zoom…”

“Then we must get you a good lens for this trip. If you are to take photos of orcas, bears and eagles, we don’t want them to be nothing more than tiny specks,” Emmy announced. “Tomorrow we will go to that big camera store you like and buy what you will need.”

Angela looked as if she was about to protest, but I cut her off. “Em’s right,” I said. Seeing that any protests about spending too much money on her were going to fall on deaf ears, Angela just gave in.

The two went shopping while I was at work, both for clothes for the trip and for the requisite camera gear.

I’d gotten an email after booking the trip that included a recommended packing list, so Emmy and Angela had a better idea of what to look for. I was surprised to see that the clothing was much more geared towards wet weather than really cold weather. I mean, I know the area is a rain forest and obviously ‘rain’ is part of the name, but hey- we’ll be seeing glaciers, right?

That isn’t to say that the recommended items list was lacking in things like thermal underwear or boots, since those were there, but the emphasis was on Gore-Tex rain gear over down-filled parkas.

Since Emmy and Angela were shopping nearby I actually got to have lunch with them- a rare treat indeed. We ate at a little white-linen Italian restaurant on Westwood, a few blocks from my new office. I’d gotten so blasé about Emmy’s fame that I hardly even registered it anymore, but the wait staff in this restaurant were all college-aged and hadn’t yet become jaded to the Los Angeles celebrity scene. The manager had tried to apologize to Emmy for the waiters being less than professional, but she just waved it off.

“To tell you the truth,” she told him in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “I enjoy the attention.”

This earned her a laugh and eased the guy’s mood quite a bit. Eventually she posed for selfies with all the staff, even the manager and a couple of the crew from the back of the house.

Once everything had settled down, I brought up something I’d been thinking about that morning. “Hey, do you two mind if I head up to Seattle a few days early? I’d like to visit with Donny and Sana, and deal with some Night Children business while I’m there. I could fly up, and then just meet you two when you fly into town,” I suggested.

“What sort of Night Children business?” Emmy asked.

“Nothing serious,” I said with a shrug. “Things have been quiet there, all in all. I just need to sort out housing for a few new people, and, you know, formally offer them my shadow.”

“You do not need me for that?” Emmy asked, surprised.

“If you want to, sure, that’d be great, but there’s no need,” I replied. “I mean, I’ve been taking care of that for a while now.”

Emmy suddenly realized that it must be true. After all, she hadn’t offered anybody her shadow in quite a while, and yet we were adding to our nation all the time.

“I am a terrible queen,” she said, crestfallen.

“No, babe, that’s not true,” I said. “Everybody loves and admires you, and everybody knows that you’re the true queen of North America.”

Mollified a bit, Emmy said, “I want to go to Seattle with you. I want to speak to our new… constituents. I must make more of an appearance,” she declared.

“Then I guess we’re all going,” Angela said. “I have never been to Seattle, and I hear it is pretty. We can go up in that tower, what do they call it? And watch the fish sellers throw fish.”

“The Space Needle, and I’m not sure I want to see anybody tossing fish around,” I replied.

“I’ve seen videos,” Angela said. “It’s like a kind of show at the fish market. They toss these big salmons or something to each other.”

“Yeah, no, I’d prefer to avoid that,” I said.

In the end, we decided to all go together. The two of them could go to Pike Street Market (or whatever it was called) to watch fish sellers fling trout while I took care of business.

That night I told Emmy and Angela that since I wasn’t going to be with them all the time there in Seattle, I was going to bring Mia out to provide them with security.

“Will we need it?” Emmy asked.

“The Seattle and Vancouver area has had a history,” I said. “I’m not willing to risk either of you getting hurt.”

Emmy looked as if she might object, but then gave in. “If you think it is best,” she said.

“What history?” Angela asked, curious.