The hotel was in Notting Hill, reasonably close to the BBC studios and to the Royal Albert Hall, but pretty far from the O2 Arena where the band was going to play on Friday and Saturday. Our room was on what they call the first floor in the UK, which is what we would refer to as the second floor. It had a cute little balcony overlooking the courtyard garden, but of course, this being London in the winter, the weather was too miserable to enjoy it.
The room was done up in some sort of strange, vaguely steampunk Victorian theme, with a big canopy bed, but the canopy mosquito curtains were hooked to the walls somehow so they were just a kind of ceiling decoration. The tub was in the main part of the room and not in the en suite bath, which was odd, but the tub itself was a strange visual focal point. It was an enormous claw-foot thing with a bizarre network of brass piping surrounding it on the spigot end and sides. It looked as if it might spray water from multiple points in the piping, but I was convinced it was more decorative than functional.
Emmy wanted to take a nap and Angela wanted to stay with her, so I headed out for a walk by myself in the soft winter rain.
In the lobby, though, Stephanie spotted me. “Hey, Leah, where are you going?” she asked from where she was talking to a guy at the front desk.
“Dunno,” I said with a shrug. “I just need to get out and stretch my legs. I figure I’ll just check out the neighborhood.”
“Give me five minutes and I’ll go with you,” she replied, so I waited while she finished whatever business it was she had with the concierge.
We walked somewhat aimlessly for a while, passing through the Kensington Gardens. We were warned that the gates would shut at sunset, so we didn’t spend any time in there, though.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had you to myself. This is nice,” Stephanie joked as we passed a statue of Queen Victoria.
“How are things going with you and Stephen?” I asked.
“Pretty good, actually,” she replied, sounding happy. “I’m kinda thinking of asking him if he wants to move in when the tour is over and things settle down. You know he’s coming to Stockholm for the show there?”
“No, he didn’t mention it,” I said. “I think he might be a little bit, um, cautious about sharing what’s going on with you and him, since you and me, we used to be…” I said.
“I’ve told him I’m cool with all that,” Stephanie said, a note of exasperation in her voice. “He doesn’t need to pussyfoot around like that.”
“I’ve tried to make it clear that if you guys are happy, I’m happy for you guys,” I said.
“Seriously,” she agreed.
After a while, Stephanie asked, “Did you get me this gig?”
“What?” I asked, caught by surprise by the question.
“Did you get Emmy and the guys to take me on as road manager?” she clarified.
“No, it wasn’t me. I was surprised when they said you were going to manage this tour for them,” I told her. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was probably Emmy talking to Brent. You know they get together every now and then.”
“Good,” Stephanie said. “I really didn’t want to think this was some sort of charity thing for me.”
“No, not at all,” I said, surprised by her tone of voice. “In fact, back in Paris Jackson said that you’ve been doing such a good job, he regrets doing it himself all these years.”
“Even if it isn’t true, it’s nice to hear,” Stephanie said. “And quit walking so damned fast. Those freaking long legs of yours!”
Laughing, I said, “You’ve been keeping up just fine.”
“Well, this is far from my idea of a stroll,” Stephanie replied.
“Let’s take a break for a minute," I suggested, pointing to what looked like an old-school English pub.
“Split a steak and ale pie with me?” Stephanie asked after looking at the menu. “I love ‘em, but can’t eat a whole one.”
“Sure, why not?” I said.
I was waiting for a waiter to show up, but Stephanie said, “The way it works here in these pubs is you go up to the bar to order. Here, let me get this. Want anything to drink?”
Sitting back down with a couple of pink drinks, she said, “Pink gin slings.”
“Sure, why not?” I said with a shrug. “How do you know about English pub food, anyway?”
“The Sons played every night for a week here when we toured a while back. All in all, we were here in London for a little over two weeks, so I got to know a lot about the place.”
As we ate, we talked about Stephanie’s work. Things were going really well for her, she said. “You know, this tour is going to make me enough money to pay off my house. Can you believe that? Not even twenty-five years old and I’ll own a million-dollar home outright.”
“Steph,” I said, and I could feel my voice softening. “You know I’ve always believed in you. Back in high school…”
Stephanie’s eyes grew moist as she replied. “You did when nobody else did. The way you helped me finish senior year…”
“It was all you. You put in the hard work,” I said, “I just helped you stay on track, that’s all.”
“You’re seriously underselling your contribution,” Stephanie countered. “It was purely and totally because you were willing to put in the time and effort to push me along that I managed to finish out the year so strong,” she said. “That got me into SDSU, and told me that if I put in the work, I can do whatever needs to be done.”
“I always knew you could, Steph.”
“And that was a big part of why I loved you, babe,” she replied, putting her hand on mine. “That, and you looked fucking hot in my swimming pool.”
“Me? I still can’t see a pair of those heart-shaped sunglasses and not get a lady boner,” I said with a laugh.
When I got back to the hotel room I found Emmy and Angela in that big claw-footed tub, having a relaxing soak.
“How was your walk?” Angela asked as I kissed the two of them.
“It was good. I got to see some of the area, which was nice,” I said.
“The area was nice, or seeing it was nice?” Angela asked with an impish grin.
“Both,” I replied, kicking off my shoes to recline on the bed. “We’re in a really nice part of town- we’re like, just a few blocks from one of the royal palaces, and just walking around and sightseeing was good.”
“Angela and I have been discussing the schedule here,” Emmy said, changing the subject. “For the fundraiser tomorrow night I am only allowed to bring one other person, my ‘plus one’. But I think Stephanie will be attending as well, and I do not believe that she has a plus one.”
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“So Ange will go as yours, and I’ll go as Steph’s?” I asked.
“I do not believe it matters who walks in the door with whom, but yes,” Emmy replied. “If Stephanie is going.”
“Let me shoot her a text,” I said, pulling out my phone.
Less than a minute later Stephanie responded with, “Sure. That works.”
“Looks like I’ve got a date,” I said.
“We have our appointment at the clinic on Thursday, right?” Angela asked.
“Yeah, at two,” I said, checking the calendar on my phone.
“Lee, Emmy and I have been talking,” Angela said, a bit timidly. “I know we have to wait for the test results, but what do we do if something’s wrong?”
“There won’t be, baby,” I said, getting off the bed and kneeling beside the tub to take her hand. “I think the chances of any problems are tiny- the same as with any other pregnancy. I mean, they happen, but are rare.”
“I’m scared,” she said, her youthful face showing her worry.
“Ange, baby, don’t be scared,” I said, my voice soft. “Having babies is always risky, and we need to be mindful of that, but you’re young and healthy, you eat well, haven’t been drinking… We’re doing everything right,” I said, kissing her knuckles.
“I know, but…” she said, her shoulders drooping. “Mi mamá lost two babies, one before me and the other between me and Ceci. I don’t want to lose this baby,” she said, on the verge of tears just thinking about what might happen.
I pulled her head against mine so we were touching foreheads. “I’m beaming positive thoughts into your brain,” I said, making an expression of extreme concentration. “All your negative thoughts and worries will be pushed right out of your head.”
It was so ridiculous that Angela couldn’t help but laugh.
“See? It worked,” I said, giving her a quick kiss. Sitting back, I said, “Look, babe. The clinic here will draw the sample and it’ll get overnighted to Utah, but remember, the time zones are in our favor so they’ll get it first thing Friday morning. The lab in Salt Lake promised me results within forty-eight hours, even over the weekend, so we should know no later than Saturday night.”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” Angela moaned.
Emmy leaned forward and kissed her. “Angie, this is for both of us. If your test comes back from the lab and the baby has no problems, then we can assume that mine will be good, too, right? I am just as worried as you are, but I have great faith that we can do this. We will have the two most beautiful babies the world has ever seen, together. Our babies, Angie. One of them is in here,” Emmy said, resting her hand on Angela’s belly. “And the other is in here,” she said, holding Angela’s hand against her own tummy. “How many people could ever be as fortunate as we?”
Angela sighed. “I know you guys are right. It’s probably just my hormones, but I can’t help but worry.”
“Worrying does no good,” Emmy said. “Instead you should be hopeful, and send thoughts of love down to the child developing inside you.”
“I already love her,” Angela admitted. “And I hope I can be the mama you two think I will be.”
“You will, babe,” I said. “I don’t know anybody as loving and caring as you.”
“That is because there is no one,” Emmy said.
We had dinner that night at an incredible Indian restaurant the hotel concierge had recommended. The lamb curry was phenomenal, even better than my favorite place in San Jose. I made a mental note to eat there at least one or two more times before we left London.
The five of us at the table drew some attention, and Emmy was gracious about signing autographs and posing for pictures with anybody who asked, but for the most part we had a fairly uninterrupted meal.
To my surprise, Emmy even got Tiny talking. Tiny admitted that he’d always wanted to see London, and especially wanted to go up in the Eye.
“My mother was born and raised here in London, but she made her way to the US before I was born,” he explained. “She used to tell me stories, and to me, this was always a magical place.”
That one sentence alone was more words than I’d heard the man say in total up to that point.
“Would you like to take some time to see the city by yourself?” Emmy asked. “We should be fine without you for the next two days, if you want the time to explore.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his smooth bass voice filled with hope.
“I don’t see why not,” Grant said. “As long as you’re ready to go to the arena at one on Friday. Go ahead and take the time off, but keep your phone handy.”
His white teeth flashing in the first smile of his I’d seen, Tiny thanked Emmy and Grant. As he dug back into his biryani, I could tell he was already mentally planning his next couple of days.
Angela was still feeling emotional when we got back to the hotel, still a bit worried about the baby’s health. Emmy and I did everything we could to let her know that we were there for her as we made love, gently kissing, holding, and touching Angela to express how much she meant to us. She was the center of our world that night. Our dark-haired beauty, the soon-to-be mother of our child.
Our child. This baby was going to have not just one mommy, not even two, but three mothers to nurture her, teach her, and raise her to be the best we possibly could. But most of all, we would love our little girl. And the most loving, most sensitive, most caring of any of the three of us was Angela. Emmy and I had been so amazingly fortunate that she came into our lives when she did, filling a void in our relationship we hadn’t even realized was there.
Of course, the unspoken subtext was that Angela would be with me to raise our two daughters after Emmy was no longer with us, in ten short years or thereabouts. I hadn’t asked Emmy point blank, but I felt that Emmy was well aware of the fact that she would be giving the child she would birth only a few short years, and Angela and I would be the ones who would see little Emmy Jr to adulthood.
Angela, too, must have had those thoughts. Angela was a smart girl, and she could see the way things were going to go if Emmy’s moon kissed thing played out the way she expected. Angela might only give birth to one child, but she was going to be the mother to two.
None of that mattered that night, though, as we caressed, fondled, kissed and touched each other for hours, letting our bodies spell out our love. We were a household of three, our unusual dynamic working just fine for us. We loved each other, and that was all that mattered.
The next morning Grant went with Emmy to the BBC studios, but Angela and I stayed behind. We were going to go out and do touristy stuff, take a double-decker bus, see the Tower Of London, watch the changing of the guards… Like I said, touristy stuff. Emmy had been to London many times with her parents, but it was a first for the two of us and we wanted to see the place, even though the weather was miserable.
Even though the trees had no leaves and the sky was gray and occasionally drizzly, our walk through Kensington Gardens was very pleasant.
I found myself glancing over at Angela as we walked and talked, enjoying the sound of her voice and admiring the way she looked. Emmy had definitely upgraded Angela’s wardrobe since she had come to live with us. Sure, she still wore her fast-fashion stuff for her social media shoots, but she had taken to wearing clothes of a much higher quality the rest of the time. Peeking over at her, she looked like a millionaire’s trophy wife, which, to be honest, I guess she was. Her cashmere overcoat came from Max Mara, the walking boots from Burberry… her outfit probably cost somewhere in the range of ten thousand dollars. No obvious labels, but all of it clearly very well made and very expensive.
She took to it well, too, looking as if she’d been born into that kind of luxury just as Emmy had been. Anybody seeing her on the street would know that she was pampered, cared-for and accustomed to the finer things in life.
I liked that. Quite a bit, actually. I liked that Angela was growing comfortable in her life with Emmy and me. Sure, her family had been reasonably well off back in Colombia, but now she was in another level of wealth.
And was Angela ever beautiful- Emmy’s perfection was otherworldly, but Angela was the kind of beauty that turned heads just the same.
I might have Emmy for only a short time, but this was the woman I was going to grow old with. Thinking about Emmy’s condition cutting her short was terrible, but knowing that I would still have Angela helped ease the sting a bit.
“I had a long talk with Em,” Angela said, bringing me back to the moment. We were standing outside a fenced area marked for young children and their accompanying adults only, so we’d been marveling at the Peter Pan-themed play structures from afar. “I asked her if she misses Paris, and she said she does, but when I asked her if she wanted to maybe get a place there, she said no way.”
“She doesn’t want a place in Paris?” I asked, wondering where this had come from.
“No, she doesn’t. She said that Paris would always be the city of her parents, and she had no desire to be that close on their, well, their territory. She didn’t use that word, but I understood what she meant.”
“I guess I can understand that,” I admitted as we turned away to keep walking. “They are pretty intimidating.”
“She didn’t use that word, either, but yeah. I think she loves them, but at a distance.”
“Speaking of which,” I said. “I was thinking that when the test results come back and we know everything is good, we can maybe see if your mom wants to come visit?”
Angela laughed, her smile lighting up the dreary day. “Mamá will be on the first plane the moment I tell her I am expecting,” she said. “Papí, too.”
“I’m O.K. with that,” I said, taking her hand as we circled around a big round pond. “I want them to be there when our little girl is born.”
Angela squeezed my hand, using it to pull me down a bit so she could kiss me. “Have I told you I love you?” she asked.
“Yes, but I never tire of hearing it,” I said, leaning down to give her another quick kiss. “Because you know why? I love you too, Ange. I love you so much…”
Angela pulled me to a stop so she could throw her arms around me and squeeze me tight. She didn’t say anything, just rested her cheek against my shoulder as she held me tight. I kissed the top of her head, my right arm around her while I held the umbrella with the left. We stayed that way for several minutes before wordlessly starting walking again.
“This must be really pretty in the springtime,” Angela said. “With leaves on the trees, and flowers, and lots of ducks.”
“It’s pretty now, in its own way,” I replied.
“It is,” Angela admitted. “Even though it is cold and damp.”