Tracing the Stars

by Amanda Richardson

  If he notices the change, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he nods and climbs out. I watch as he puts his clothes back on, and when he gathers his shoes in his hands, he gives me a sad smile before letting himself out.

  Sighing, I collapse back onto the bed and groan into my hands. Anastasia was right.

  I predict you’ll be in love with the entitled jackass by winter’s end.

  Back then, I wasn’t expecting for my life to change so completely. Back then, I would’ve laughed maniacally had someone told me I’d be pregnant and masturbating in front of him a week before we’re scheduled to leave.

  For someone who loved to plan her life, I was royally screwing things up left and right.

  But… I kind of loved the change of pace.

  I kind of loved the unknown.

  For the first time in my life, I was excited about not knowing.

  T W E N T Y - T W O

  Emilia

  I GROAN AS I struggle to zip the dress, wiggling until I manage to force it over the bump and the extra flesh padding my hips and butt.

  “Let me guess…” Ana trails off, chewing on a burrito as she watches me with amusement.

  I scowl at her through the webcam. “Shut up.”

  Sighing, I regard the dress in the mirror. It doesn’t really look that different—extra twelve pounds and a baby the size of a rutabaga or no. Thank god for the 5% spandex. I slip on the necessary pair of Spanx as Ana chews loudly. I hate her for eating a Mission burrito right under my nose when she knows Mexican food is my vice. And the one thing I’ve been craving all damn winter. I swear, it’s all I’m going to eat until this baby comes out, and he or she is going to come out looking like an avocado because of it.

  Only a few more days…

  The thought of going home should excite me, but I feel nothing but dread.

  “Are you planning on bringing me a vegetarian burrito when I land?” I joke, eyeing her through narrowed eyes.

  “Your wish is my command.” She finishes and wipes her mouth. “Are you excited to return to the land of sun and warmth?”

  I laugh, but my smile doesn’t reach my cheeks. “I’ll never complain about the cool, foggy mornings of Berkeley again, that’s for sure.”

  She studies me in a way only a sister can. She can sense my trepidation about coming home. Damn her. “What’s wrong?”

  I finish tugging the Spanx on and sit down in my desk chair as I slip my feet into the only pair of heels I packed. The dress—the dress—hasn’t seen the light of day since Christchurch. But tonight, the last Saturday night of winter, is the last chance I’ll get to wear it or the stilettos. Besides, it’s the first and last formal party for the station. A classy affair. No horror movies, no beer… there’s a dress code and a full bar. They’re holding it in the ballroom—a room I have yet to visit, which I’m sure doesn’t really resemble a ballroom. It’s most likely your run-of-the-mill reception room.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just a little sad to be leaving,” I say wistfully.

  I don’t tell her why, but she sees the hesitation on my face. “Leo?”

  I shake my head. Liar. I pull a brush through my unruly hair, trying to keep my face neutral. If she knew she was right about me falling for Leo, she would never let me live it down. “Just… everyone. The job, the food,” I add, laughing. “I never thought I’d miss powdered milk.” Ana laughs. “But in all seriousness, this feels like my real life now. I’m so used to the quirks in our lab—getting up and going through my routine. I can’t imagine not seeing these people every day. We were stuck down here together for six months, and friendships formed out of necessity. And I feel more bonded to these people because of it. I—I’ll miss them.”

  It was true. I couldn’t imagine not seeing Nathan from the other side of the glass partition as he handed me my daily dinner, a serving of Leo’s creation. Or Fiona, the woman who ran the general store. We had so many conversations over a pint of ice cream at midnight when I couldn’t sleep and she was the only one awake. Gretchen and Damien, the other firefighters, Dr. Yang…

  I swallowed.

  Leo.

  My supervisor, mentor, protector, and friend—all wrapped up into one perfectly addictive package. He was my friend and more… and in five days, I wouldn’t hear him loudly sipping his morning coffee in the lab, or see him running next to me on the gym treadmill as we both tried to outrun the other. He always won—I blame being pregnant, as I always had a faster mile growing up. I would no longer see him in the halls, or hear him move around next door as I was falling asleep. Those things had become my normal. What was my normal now that I was twenty-six weeks pregnant and in love with a man who lived across the country?

  “Well, you have five more days. I suggest you make the most of it. Mom and I are happy you’ll be home. We can’t wait to see your cute bump.” She pauses and grins. “I met someone.”

  I stop running the brush through my hair. “What?”

  My entire life, Ana held her standards unattainably high. She was beautiful, and men pursued her, sure, but she always rejected them. She’d dated casually here and there, but for her to bring it up was severely unusual.

  “He’s one of the doctors at my practice, actually.”

  I scoff. “Anastasia Harper…”

  She visibly blushes. Wow. Must be serious for her to get embarrassed. “You can meet him when you come home.”

  “I’d love it.” I smile.

  Ana clears her throat and changes the subject. “Anyways, did you finish your thesis?”

  I nod exuberantly. “Finally. I turned it in this morning. Now the department just needs to review it, and I should hear back in the next couple of months. I have some assignments I need to complete before I graduate, but I’m still scheduled to graduate in December, as planned! Thank god. The last thing I want to be doing between midnight feedings is finishing up my degree.”

  “That’s great! I’m really proud of you.” She pauses and chews on her lip. Her hazel eyes scrutinize me through the screen. “Hey, did Mom tell you she spoke to the department chair of Astronomy at Stanford?”

  My mouth drops open. “What? No!”

  Stanford?

  “I guess one of the adjunct professors had to resign unexpectedly, and they’re looking for someone temporarily until they can find a permanent replacement. They want you to officially apply, apparently, but knowing mom, it’s probably a shoe in.”

  I shake my head. Teach at Stanford? It would tether me to California. Then again, Stanford has a prominent astronomy department. I always assumed it would take me months to secure a teaching position. I wanted to consider other routes, too. NASA was an option, as was going on to get my PhD like Gretchen. I expected to have weeks—months—to mull it over. I wasn’t planning on looking until after having the baby. Who would hire a six-months-pregnant woman?

  “That would be an amazing opportunity,” I say quietly.

  Ana frowns. “Em, why do you look like you just got bad news?”

  I shake my head and sigh. “I just thought I’d have more time to figure everything out.”

  “It’s a fantastic opportunity. You can worry about time later. Mom is ecstatic, obviously.”

  Why aren’t I ecstatic, too?

  “Yeah, no, it’s wonderful. Please give her a hug and kiss for me, okay?” I check my watch. “I should get down to the party.”

  Ana watches me for a beat before nodding and saying goodbye, clicking off before I have a chance to do so. She definitely saw right through me. She’s always been able to do that.

  I let out a shaky breath of air. When did things get so complicated? My life was simple before coming down here. I had routines, aspirations, and goals. Six months ago, I would’ve jumped up and down after hearing about this opportunity. I knew what my life would look like ten years down the road. I hoped to be doing good work as an astronomer, maybe even buy a house and adopt a dog. Marriage, kids, relationships… they were never something I felt passionate
about, until I found out I was pregnant. I was an independent woman, thanks to my mother, and I didn’t need those things to lead a fulfilling life. Or so I thought.

  But then Leo smirked at me behind those closing elevator doors, and my whole world turned upside down. I saw those two pink lines and everything changed. I was becoming everything I hated about other women. Unsure, clingy, willing to drop my career to have children, to be with a man…

  I wouldn’t let it happen. Love or not, baby or not, Leo was just that: a man. I didn’t need him. To be honest, he was the only reason I hesitated to commit to an institution. But the temporary position would be an amazing opportunity for the baby and I. After all, we were in this together, and I had to think like a single mother. I had to do what was best for us. In five days, Leo and I would both go our separate ways. These six months would soon become a distant memory.

  Leo had a life in Chicago. Possible tenure—which was a huge deal. You don’t walk away from that. Anyone in academia knows that tenure is the golden jewel you aspire to obtain. And Stanford… working on the same campus as my mother would be a delight. I could work until I gave birth, take a short leave, and return for the second semester. Anastasia is right. I am extremely lucky to even be considered for the position, seeing as my MSc was still technically in progress. Not to mention how tough the teaching market is right now… I’d be foolish not to take it. Starting my career at Stanford… it was irrefutably the obvious choice. For me and this baby. I cradle my small bump protectively.

  It’s you and me, dude.

  Or, dudette.

  Smoothing my hair and dress, I grab my lipstick and apply a thin coat of the nude shade. Just as I close my door and turn to walk to this so-called ballroom, Leo emerges from his room. He has an uncanny knack for running into me in this way. As he turns to face me, he stops mid-step as his eyes rake over my dress.

  “Wow,” he mutters, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a playful, lopsided grin.

  I barely register his words as I take in his dress pants, shirt, and tie. For one, his hair is slicked back neatly, and his face is smooth—smoother than I’ve ever seen it. His dark blue dress shirt fits him perfectly. The sleeves are rolled up casually, and I smile when I see the Converse.

  He looks down and laughs. “I forgot dress shoes.” When he looks back up at me, his expression is bashful. Unsure. The chaos in my heart is written all over his face.

  We’re screwed.

  “It’s okay. I like the Chucks.”

  His eyes twinkle as they watch me for a beat. He offers his arm. “Shall we?”

  I nod and walk over to him, linking my arm with his. I get a whiff of evergreen—his cologne, I figured out a few weeks ago. I make a mental note to ask him what kind it is. When we’re 1,615 miles apart, I know I’m going to want to smell him whenever I peruse Bloomingdale’s with Ana.

  I might even secretly buy a bottle to keep.

  We walk silently down the hallway toward the refectory. Instead of turning left to get to the lab, we head right, in the same direction as the gym. Only we pass the gym and keep walking down a hallway I’ve never been down before. Voices carry through the tense air as we get closer, and just before Leo pulls one of the double doors open, he tugs me into him roughly.

  “I fucking love that dress,” he growls, and then he releases me, his warm hand sliding over my stomach. “Even better with this.”

  Knees weak, I follow him into the crowded reception room.

  Looking around in awe, I spot Gretchen and Damien on the dance floor. Others sit around the large bar. The reception room is sparsely decorated, with a few standing tables and chairs scattered around the center, which consists of a generous dance floor. For the most part, everyone is dressed nicely. Leo’s hand touches my back gently and he bends down to whisper into my ear.

  “I’ll be right back,” and then he’s gone. I check the time. Seven, on the dot. He’ll be needing his insulin.

  I wave at Gretchen and Damien as I walk to the bar. I order a tonic water and lime and begin to eat some of the Chex mix they have laid out as a bar snack without a second thought. I’ve given up my Purell addiction on Leo’s suggestion. He said once the baby is here, he or she will need those germs to form a well-rounded immune system. I even ask Ana, who annoyingly agrees with Leo. Over the last month, I’ve made a lot of progress with trying to accept that not all germs and bacteria are harmful. I don’t even use Lysol wipes anymore. Gretchen replaced them with eco-friendly wipes. She calls it phase one of Germophobic’s Anonymous. As long they never force me to eat food off of the ground, I think I’ll be okay.

  Once I have the tonic and lime in my hand—an homage to our first night together, minus the gin, obviously—I start to look around for him. After a few sips, I start to relax, and the music gets louder as more people show up. I assume everyone who was here this winter is in this room now, and it feels like the perfect way to say goodbye.

  “My favorite kind of weakness.”

  Leo’s voice causes my whole body to tense. His words—the same words from the first night—take on a whole new meaning.

  I spin around to face him. “You were never talking about the nuts, were you?”

  “Of course I wasn’t talking about the nuts,” he answers, his eyes sweeping down my body unabashedly. When he’s done gazing at my décolletage, his eyes lock onto mine as he reaches over and throws a handful of the mix into his mouth. His pupils darken as they watch me with voracious hunger. “I could never resist you, Emilia. Not now, not then…” he inches closer, careful to keep our movements friend-like. The last thing we need is for someone to see us and assume we’ve been ignoring the fraternization clause all winter. The belly would really start some hot gossip if that were the case. “Not ever.”

  Swallowing, my eyes don’t leave his as he chews loudly. It’s suddenly so hot in here, and I stand quickly. His unrelenting stare follows my movements as I down the rest of my tonic.

  “I got a tentative job offer to teach at Stanford,” I blurt, hoping he’ll tell me not to take it.

  God, I’m pathetic.

  Instead, his eyes widen and his lips part into a genuine smile. “Emilia, that’s fantastic!”

  I swallow and nod. It is. It is fantastic. So why do I feel awful that he’s happy for me? “It’s a great opportunity,” I sputter, looking down at my shoes. “For me and the baby.”

  His finger lifts my chin, and his gaze—yellow-green eyes that I used to hate—burn right into me. “It is,” he agrees. “Congratulations.”

  I want him to stop me. But he won’t. He would never do that, because he understands how cutthroat this industry is, and how this could open doors for me for the rest of my life. Because he understands that you need to put your career first.

  But more importantly, when did I become the woman willing to give it all up for a man?

  T W E N T Y - T H R E E

  Leo

  I IGNORE THE pulsing whoosh in my ears as I take Emilia’s hand and lead her to the dance floor.

  She’s staying in California.

  I’ve never been happier, never been so proud. She’s my assistant, after all, and once I heard Bernard Gaitman at Stanford needed to fill a teaching position, I recommended Emilia. Her mom helped—it doesn’t hurt that Lorelai Harper is the best biologist at Stanford, or that she has connections with the School of Humanities and Sciences. I hated sending that email—and right now, as Emilia smiles up at me and Louis Armstrong’s Fly Me to the Moon plays—I really regret my glowing recommendation, if only for completely selfish reasons.

  But… if I can help her achieve her dreams, nothing would stand in my way. I was not going to come between her and her future, no matter how hard I’d fallen for her. She deserved the chance to really prove how strong and capable she was.

  As the jazzy melody begins, I pull her in close, trying to be as gentle as possible. She rests her head on my chest as we dance with a few other couples. The hand not holding mine snakes aroun
d my middle, and she inches as close as appropriately possible. I discretely inhale the scent of her hair—lavender and lemon.

  Fucking delicious.

  “Did you just smell my hair?” she asks, pulling away and grinning up at me.

  I twist my lips to the side conspiratorially. “Of course not.”

  “You’re such a bad liar,” she murmurs. Her lids grow heavy as her eyes fall to my mouth. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth.

  God help me.

  “Leo…” She murmurs, her body melding perfectly to mine as she moves against me.

  “Just dance with me tonight, Emilia,” I beg, holding her close.

  Pretty soon, she’ll be a five-hour flight away. After that, she’ll officially be a mother, and her time will be better spent caring for a little life. I will take what I can get before it’s too late. As the song ends, another song begins. This one’s a pop song, and soon, Gretchen and Damien join us as we all jump around.

  More drinks are drunk, at least on my part. Emilia sips her water, but it doesn’t seem to deter her from letting loose and shaking her head all around.

  More moments are stolen with Emilia as her face flushes from the dancing. I tango with Gretchen as Emilia and Damien perform some sort of swing number. By the time midnight rolls around, we’re all sweaty and exhausted. And nothing could wipe the grins off of our faces. As strange as this winter was, it was also one of the best times of my life. I will never forget these people.

  As everyone begins to filter out to go to bed, I walk to the bar and set our empty glasses down. I feel Emilia sidle up next to me. She pulls a barstool out and sighs as she sits next to me. I watch her with a smile as she fixes her unruly hair and licks her lips.

  I can’t leave her.

  Panic fills me as I study her small movements. She raises her eyebrows and looks around. Her long neck cranes around in search of anyone she wishes to say goodbye to. After all, the first plane out lands tomorrow. Winter is officially over—the pinkish hue in the sky is another indication.