“Almost there,” he murmurs.
The arm I’m holding in front of my eyes starts to numb, and I hope to god I don’t have to amputate an extremity because of Leo.
“Ok, you can look now,” he tells me, and I lower my arm.
I gasp. “Oh. My. Fucking. God,” I whisper, and the sheer brightness of color hitting my eyes makes me squint. “The aurora australis…”
It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Waves of green and purple are undulating across the night sky, and the sky itself looks alive. I feel like we’re on a different planet, and the sheer beauty of it makes me drop to my knees. I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel my tears freeze to my face. Nothing has ever brought me to my knees before, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been dying to see the lights my entire life or because they’re just that magnificent.
Maybe it’s the news I received tonight. I’m overly emotional, and right now, my throat aches as I feel more tears slide down my face. I watch the view above me with reverence.
The whole thing is life-affirming; a spiritual experience. I’ve never believed in god as a scientist—we’re taught the facts, and spirituality doesn’t exactly factor into that. But then, who put these lights here like this? I give in to the wonderment, succumbing to the most wonderful feeling of existence. It feels like I’ve been struck with the best kind of lightening. Leo drops down next to me.
Neither of us says anything. We just watch the vivid colors dance across the sky like ribbons in the wind. I don’t even think I’ve seen a picture of the aurora this bright, and I most definitely never thought I’d seem them like this. It doesn’t seem real. My eyes scan the rest of the night sky, and just like the other two times I’ve been outside, the stars captivate me. I crane my neck trying to view the whole sky, but I give in and lie down on the tundra.
Leo comes to lie down next to me, scooting close so that our bodies are touching. He points up at the sky, and when I lift my arm too, he takes my hand and directs it to a constellation to our left.
“Hydrus,” he says quietly, and his voice sounds so loud out here in the nothingness.
“Your favorite constellation,” I answer, and he moves my hand in a triangular motion, tracing the stars.
“Yes. My favorite.”
“Why is Hydrus your favorite?”
“Because it’s only visible in the Southern Hemisphere. I only see it when I’m down here.”
We watch the aurora get brighter before going pale again. I drop my arm to my side. I know that technically the aurora is just cosmic rays interacting with the upper atmosphere. From a scientific standpoint, it’s nothing more than charged electrons and protons, but seeing it in person—the pulsing green lights vibrating across the sky—makes me believe in a higher power for the first time ever. It’s like the universe is trying to tell us something.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, barely able to move my face.
“I know,” he answers, reaching out for my hand.
“I’m not ready to be a mother,” I start, my lips tight and frozen. “But at the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. I didn’t realize it until tonight. Like I’d been waiting for this, you know? Which is weird, because I wasn’t sure I ever wanted kids.”
“I know we’re scientists, so we’re supposed to believe in what we can prove. But… I think it’s fate. The way you feel? It’s because it was meant to be. You and Jake, for whatever reason, were meant to bring this child into the world.”
“You really believe that?” I ask, my voice timid.
“As much as it kills me, yes.” We stay quiet for a beat, and then he continues. “If Jake wants to make it work, I will back off. If he wants to be a part of this child’s life—and not just in an every-other-weekend kind of way—I will respect that. Okay?”
I sniffle. “Okay. But what if I don’t want that? What if I want y—”
“Stop,” he urges. When I turn my neck to look at him, his eyes are closed. “You’re having his baby. You have to talk to him. He’s my best friend, Emilia. And he’s your child’s father.”
I pout. “You’re right. You’re always right.”
He chuckles from beside me. “Can I please get that in writing?”
“Dream on,” I mumble, hoisting myself up.
Leo stands and holds his hand out. “Let’s go thaw out,” he suggests, pulling me up.
“Thank you for showing this to me. It’s… unbelievable.”
He chuckles. “Well, it’s pretty rare for the aurora to be this strong, and I know you mentioned you were thinking of writing your thesis on it—”
“Thank you,” I blurt. “For everything.” I begin to walk back inside before he can respond. Leo follows me. The magnitude of this experience has caused excessive, emotional feelings, and I feel so incredibly sentimental and weepy. I pace around the transition room until Leo enters.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, sounding satisfied.
“I did,” I say, rocking back and forth on my heels. I uncover my face and rub my hands together, trying to bring feeling back into them. There’s a reason people here go all winter without going outside. It’s brutal.
“Good,” Leo says. “Mission accomplished then.” His smile disappears as his eyes scan my face. “I’m truly sorry for how I acted a few weeks ago, Emilia. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
I suck on my bottom lip. His eyes watch me as his head tilts to the side. “It was a good kiss,” I murmur. “I’ll never be kissed like that again.”
The way he’s looking at me right now sends frissons of electricity down every limb. My resistance is waning—or maybe, it was never there. The barriers are down. The walls have fallen. He’s given me such a gift tonight, and I now know that I can never hate him again. He reaches out and brushes his thumb against my cheek. I close my eyes. I feel him drop his hands, and a second later, I hear a door close.
When I open my eyes, he’s gone.
F I F T E E N
Leo
BY THE TIME I get to the lab the next morning—very late, I might add, due to being up late—Gretchen is whispering to Emilia in hushed, excited tones. When they hear me come through the door, Gretchen turns around and gives me a wide grin.
“Uncle Leo!” she squeals. “Emilia just told me.”
Uncle?
My eyes dart to Emilia, and the sight of her watching me with absorbed uncertainty does something funny to my heart. She looks beautiful, as always, but today she seems different. More comfortable and self-assured. Her eyelids are relaxed, her face glowing and healthy. She complained about gaining weight when I bought her four pints of ice cream—and yes, I insisted on all four, even though she only wanted two—but I swear to god, she’s never been more beautiful.
“It’s exciting,” I murmur, setting my notes down and checking the numbers from last night. The lab—three large computers, storage machines to back up our findings, and the door leading to the telescope tunnel—is beginning to feel like my second home. “We should get to work.”
As Gretchen and Emilia take their usual places at the lab computers, I read through the email sent by my university last night. Our grant was significant this winter, mostly thanks to Jake and his company who sponsored our research. We’ll be refocusing the rest of our time here tracing dark matter; confirming the existence of it and defining its properties. I know Gretchen, especially, is excited about the new emphasis. The very first thing I learned about dark matter in middle school was that it pushes things that are very far apart even further apart—opposite to the usual force of gravity that pulls things together.
I can’t help but think it’s a fucking metaphor for my relationship with Emilia.
We work seamlessly for the next four hours, inputting numbers and studying the data we collected overnight. By midday, Gretchen leaves to grab lunch as Emilia works tirelessly. I wait for her to take a break, but she doesn’t. She’s too focused on her work.
“You nee
d to eat,” I say sternly as I lean on the desk right in front of her.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbles, not taking her eyes off of the computer.
“It’s not just you, Emilia. You have someone else to think about now.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “You’re right.” She stands and stretches her arms over her head from side to side. My eyes skim her body briefly, watching for any changes; as if they would’ve materialized overnight. But as her shirt lifts up, her stomach is just as flat as ever. I shake my head and avert my eyes.
It’s Jake’s baby. I can’t look at her like that anymore, even though the thought of her carrying a child is extremely carnal in a weird way. Something primitive inside of me stirs.
“Have you made a doctor’s appointment?” I ask, crossing my arms as she gathers her things.
“It’s later today.”
“When?” I ask, my voice harder than I mean it to be.
She sighs, brushing her long hair behind her ears. “It’s none of your business. It’s between Jake and I.” Fuck, that one hurt. She must see my face fall, because she clears her throat and continues. “But, if you want to keep me company, it’s at four-thirty.”
I smile. “I’ll be there.”
We walk quietly side-by-side to the refectory. As she grabs some green beans and minestrone soup, I pick up a yogurt and a bread roll, placing them on her plate.
“I don’t want bread or yogurt,” she states, watching me with annoyance.
“Just try to have a little of both. You need to start eating balanced meals.”
“I’m getting fat,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“You’re growing a human,” I growl. “And you’re beautiful, so you can stop with this pity party you’re having, okay?”
Her glassy eyes meet mine. For a second, it seems like she’s going to cry, but instead, she sniffs and stands up taller. “Fine.”
She stalks away to a nearby table where Gretchen sits with Damien, and I chuckle as I join them.
*
A few hours later, we finish up our work for the day. Gretchen leaves early, mumbling something about reading up on a certain galaxy cluster, so I walk over to Emilia’s desk and tap the top of her computer.
“It’s four-fifteen,” I say, pointing to my watch.
She grinds her teeth and sighs. I try not to stare at her pale skin—or the way her lips beckon me to kiss them. She’s wearing a deep V-neck white sweater and loose jeans, and I can’t help but admire the way she dresses. Casual, professional, always with an extra, added touch of sensuality. Today it’s her exposed collarbones. And her hair? I’ve never really been a sucker for hair. I’m an ass man, but Emilia’s hair just might convert me. Long, dark, wavy… All I can think about is how it would look falling down her naked back.
I close my eyes.
I can’t think of her like that anymore.
“Let’s go,” she says quietly. I reach into my bag and hand her a protein bar. She stares at it with repugnance. I stifle a laugh. “I’m not eating that,” she says, her voice low and angry.
“You need to eat more protein. Especially since you don’t eat meat. This has 20g of protein. Not enough, but we’ll supplement with legumes and dairy.”
Her brows knit together in concern as her head tilts to one side. “We?”
“You know what I mean,” I bark, shoving the protein bar into her open palm. “We should go.”
Emilia eats the protein bar as we walk to the doctor’s office. She makes small noises of disgust the entire way, and I diligently keep a straight face. I tell myself the entire time it’s for Jake. I’m taking care of his baby mama. He would be appreciative that I’m watching out for her. On that note, I remind myself that I need to get her prenatal vitamins. Jake would want me to do that. He would want me to be there for her.
If I’m being honest though, I’m not entirely sure how he’ll react to the news. He’s never been one to commit, but then again, Emilia is one of a kind. I wouldn’t be surprised if she converted him. And as far as I know, none of his escapades resulted in a baby, so I really have no idea how he’ll take the news. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
A few minutes later, we reach the doctor’s office. The nurse smiles when she sees us.
“I have an appointment with Dr. Yang,” Emilia says, her voice nervous and wavering.
“He’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you fill these out and have a seat?” She hands Emilia some papers and a clipboard. Emilia takes them with shaking hands.
I lead her to the small cluster of chairs. “You okay?” I ask, keeping my hand on her arm as we sit.
She nods and swallows. “Just nervous. And nauseous from your disgusting protein bar.”
I crack a grin. “You’ll thank me when you have a perfectly healthy baby.”
She looks at me with a pained expression. “Why are you being so nice?”
Her big, pleading eyes tug at me. I want to confess everything. That I want her, that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that my next sentence is a lie. A complete and total lie.
“Because Jake would want me to take care of you,” I say, trying to keep my voice unaffected and collected. In reality, those words cause me anguish.
She nods and pulls out her Purell, squeezing some into her hand. “Well, thank you for being a surrogate father,” she answers, giving me a small smile and putting the small bottle back into her purse.
I don’t respond.
She scribbles on the forms, and I lean back and twiddle my thumbs. A few minutes later, a voice startles me.
“Emilia Harper?” Dr. Yang pokes his head out of the door leading to the two exam rooms. I only know him because of last winter. I had an allergic reaction to something the chef made and had to be watched overnight. Needless to say, I don’t eat green bell peppers anymore.
“Yes,” she answers, standing quickly.
“I’m ready for you. Hello, Leo,” he says, giving me a confused but polite smile.
“I’m just here for support,” I say. I turn to Emilia. “I’ll wait out here.”
She frowns. “You’re not coming in?”
I stare into her large, frightened grey eyes. Sighing, I stand. “Of course I’m coming.”
This is wrong in so many ways…
Emilia and I walk back to an examination room equipped with an ultrasound machine. It’s dimly lit, and the exam table has been moved to a reclined position.
“You can lie down on the table,” Dr. Yang says, his voice warm. I wonder how many pregnant women he’s had to deal with down here—he’s a general practitioner, and I worry he’s not experienced enough for her. But, better him than no one. “You’ll need to unzip your pants.”
Emilia does just that, and I look away because I’m a gentleman.
“Have you been having any symptoms?” he asks her, rolling toward her on his stool.
“Not until yesterday. I threw up my dinner and fainted.”
Dr. Yang nods. “Both are perfectly normal. Some women don’t experience any symptoms in the first trimester. Since I know you said you think you’re twelve or thirteen weeks, it’s looking like you bypassed those pesky first trimester symptoms.”
He places some clear gel on a probe and moves it to Emilia’s lower abdomen. He must have some OBGYN experience, seeing as all doctors do rotations in different departments in medical school. I swallow, trying to ignore the purple lace that peeks out of Emilia’s pants.
Dr. Yang moves it around and watches the ultrasound screen. “Okay, I think I see the fetus,” he says slowly. “And the amniotic sac.”
I crane my neck to look at the screen. I don’t see anything. I don’t even know what to look for. Anatomy was my least favorite class.
Emilia reaches out for my hand as a pulsing, squishy sound plays on the speakers. Her eyes go wide and they glass over.
“That’s the heartbeat,” she says, and Dr. Yang nods. “Oh my god.”
“Do you see this bean-sha
ped thing?” he asks.
She squeezes my hand and nods. I swallow thickly. I didn’t think—didn’t expect to get emotional…
“You’re measuring at about thirteen weeks along. Everything looks just as it should. Perfectly healthy. Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”
“She will be,” I say quickly.
“Good. And be sure to take care of yourself, okay? You’ll be close to six months along by the time you leave—which is good, since you’ll still be able to fly home—but we’re not equipped to handle certain things like, say, McMurdo is. Obviously, if you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to ask me. I’m on-call down here.” He reaches into the pocket of his white coat and hands her a business card. He turns his eyes to me. “Make sure you don’t work her too hard,” he says with a grin. “See you in four weeks, Emilia. I’ll have the nurse schedule an appointment with you.” He hands Emilia a paper towel to clean herself up before leaving.
After he closes the door, I sit on the chair across from the table.
“It’s real,” she murmurs. “It’s really happening.”
“You have to tell Jake,” I say, rubbing my face with my hands.
She nods. “And my mom. And Ana.” Groaning, she cleans herself up and zips up her pants, pulling her sweater down. “As much as I already love this little blob, my career is over,” she whispers, sitting back down on the exam table. “How am I supposed to come to peace with that? I love my job.”
I shake my head. “Your career isn’t over. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
“But I’ll have a baby, Leo—a tiny human to look after. How can I possibly juggle the two?”
Smiling, I help her off of the table into a standing position. “Because you’re strong. You always have been. You’re determined, and smart… you’ll figure it out. Women in science have babies all the time, and they figure it out. So will you.”
“But—”
“This is just a bump in the road. You’ll find a way to make it work.”
“What if I don’t?” Her voice is timid and vulnerable. “What if I can’t handle both? Having a screaming baby won’t be easy.”
Tracing the Stars Page 11