by Roxy Harte
“What?” I ask, confused, surely Simon didn’t disclose that I was trying to get pregnant.
“How long? Very early, yes?”
“Yes,” I say, mesmerized by her eyes. She bows and I watch her walk away. My open mouth gapes after her and I realize that I haven’t peed on a stick in three days, not since the night of the storm, even though they are packed in my bag.
I hurry to my room, rummaging through bags until I finally find one. I’m so nervous I have to run water in the sink to make myself relax enough to go. I sit the stick on the counter, afraid of jarring it and messing up the results. I pace, counting each second.
Positive.
I stare at the stick. I can’t believe it. I’m really pregnant. I’m going to have a baby. I scream, I jump up and down, I twirl in circles before falling on the bed laughing hysterically. I have to tell someone! I grab my cell, finding I had four missed calls in the space of a one-hour massage. I listen to my voicemail.
Simon: “I wanted to let you know, I’ve landed in Seattle. If you need anything, call me. I’ll keep on top of Cho to make sure that everything is ready for you when you arrive in the city.”
Tina: “Are you there? Are you sure you want to be there? Call me!”
Meg: “Have you lost your mind or is Simon forcing you to do this? That man! Errgh! If you need us, call us. Seriously!”
Tina: “I just talked to Geri...will you please call me?”
Deleting the messages, I sigh, not knowing that I want to call any of them. I’m too happy, too excited to have to defend my decisions...again.
I leave my room through the sliding doors that lead out onto an open veranda and the paved walkways beyond that with small signs that promise Meditation Trails with a dark, black arrow pointing the way.
Calm, peaceful, meditation...trail. That sounds good.
When I wasn’t looking, summer turned into autumn and the evidence is all around me, even though it is comfortably warm. The trees on the mountain are changing colors. I inhale the scent of pine and dirt and an herb or flower that I’ve never smelled before, but one that is quite heavenly. I’m glad I’m here. As soon as I think the thought, I know it is truth. Not just that I am at the spa, but that I am in Japan. It seems like the perfect place for a new beginning.
I’m pregnant.
As I stand on a small balcony that is built into a mountain, giving me a mysterious view of fog rising around the surrounding cliffs, I am filled with awe and wonder. I wish the studio was here. In the mountains...not in the heart of Tokyo...and then I start to wonder how I can make that happen, because I want my child surrounded by this rural beauty, not necessarily the sights and sounds of the city.
“It’s your baby,” Simon had said of the studio. Does that mean I’m completely in control? And how reasonable would it be to expect that the people in these mountains would be as accepting of a porn studio tucked into their small corner of the world, whereas within the crowded buildings of the city, no one would notice. Besides, I’m certain there are more education opportunities in the city, schools, museums, theaters...
I purse my lips, deciding that I want both for my baby. High-rise living in Tokyo has its perks, but maybe I could have a weekend house in the country as well. Now, that’s a plan. That’s a very good plan.
“I may have to have one of these meditation trails at my weekend house.” Yes, I like the sound of that.
I rub my hand over my flat abdomen. “Hello, baby.” I close my eyes with wonderment. I can hardly believe I’m pregnant. What if the test was a false positive?
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I panic, running back down the path to my room and peeing on another stick. Positive.
I pick up my cell and see I missed three calls. This is ridiculous. I ignore my voicemail box and call Dr. Abrams. His office is closed because it is after five p.m. there. Of course it is! I’d have to call at 2 a.m. Tokyo time to reach his office when he first gets in...or I could just leave a message. I decide it is a day for messages and say, “This is Simone Sinclair and I just wanted you to know that the home pregnancy test is positive! What do I do now?”
I close my cell and it beeps, reminding me I have messages... Do I even want to know? I dial and listen against my better judgment.
Geri: “When you left yesterday, I suddenly realized just how awful I’ve been to you. How awful I’ve been to a lot of women since Sheila, but especially you, because I left wanting to echo the words you were saying to me, but I was just afraid to say them. I’m not afraid now. I hope I’m not too late. I love you, Simone Sinclair. I think I have since the moment I first met you.”
Geri: “That first message didn’t come out exactly the way I wanted. I’m sorry. I was scared. I’m sorry for letting my fears keep us apart. Can you call me? I’m horrible with messages, but I want you to know how I feel. How I really feel. And if you give me another chance, I won’t ruin it by running away again.”
Geri: “I know you’re thinking you’d be stupid for giving me another chance and I probably don’t deserve one. Saying I’m sorry isn’t good enough for all the pain I’ve caused you. I wish I had another language to say it in...say it better...say it so that you will believe me. I want you to call me back, but I’m smart enough to know that you probably need some space. So I won’t call again. I’ll wait for you to call me, even if it’s a day, or a week, or years. I’ll wait.”
I’ll wait? I close the phone. I don’t delete any of Geri’s messages, thinking she is right about one thing. I need some space. And time. I guess that’s two things. I don’t believe for a second that she will wait years, but they were nice words.
♥
My apartment is everything Cho promised and more, the view of the harbor defies description. I can’t believe I am going to live here, but as I take a day unpacking, hanging my artwork, arranging knickknacks, it starts to sink in and now that I know that I am pregnant for certain, I think I’m going to be happy here too. My mind turns to hiring a housekeeper and interviewing nannies. Isn’t that ridiculous, I’m not even a full month pregnant...anything could happen.
That’s the scariest thought. I have an entire first trimester to survive before I can rule out a faulty pregnancy.
And I’m already attached to this baby.
I take a full week getting my apartment set up and a housekeeper hired. Cho located her. Iwa Yamaguchi. Cho assures me that her name means rock and that I will be able to count on her for her solid strength. I’m not certain how much faith I put in the meanings of names or how those meanings might influence character, but her resume is very impressive, leading me to believe she will be able to hold down my fort while I am working. I wasn’t optimistic about hiring someone without meeting her first, she will be spending a lot of time under my roof, but it turns out that she is a lovely older woman who I take to instantly.
When I finally face the craziness of the Tokyo studio, it is with dread, because my apartment made me so happy, and honestly, after the last trip to Tokyo, I don’t see how it could be much better. I am surprised when my office is completely put together when I arrive, a real office, a room with a view, a big desk, executive chair, and all of my porn career memorabilia—photos, awards, and pictures of friends I will miss. Thank you, Simon. There is even a stack of books on my desk, all of it classic Japanese erotica translations and a note from Simon. “Understand where they’ve been. You’ll know where to take them. I trust your artistic eye.” I smile.
I don’t waste time, I get to work.
♥
Twelve weeks later, I am happy, settled, and the studio is garnering more success than I ever expected. I am also relieved, having made it through my first trimester complication-free. There is only one thing that is not perfect...I hate myself for driving away Geri the way I did. I dwell on it. I was cold and calculating, and despite the number of times she did the same thing to me, I still feel like she deserved to be treated better.
I’ve kept her messages and listen to them every
day. I tell myself it is just to hear her voice, to remind myself that something did happen between us...even though I haven’t defined what exactly.
“I miss you. Please call me, Simone. We need to talk.” I sigh, because hearing Geri’s voice in the recording doesn’t hurt as much as it did two months ago. I disconnect from my archived voicemail when Ken knocks on my door. It is ajar, but he knocks anyway, bowing when I lift my eyes from the papers I shuffle quickly, hoping he will buy into the lie that I was reading them. “First proofs ready.” “Already?” I really am surprised.
I watch a five-minute segment, mostly interaction between the actress and actor, gauging their chemistry. It’s good. I’m surprised, but then not too surprised, because I spent weeks in interviews getting the people I wanted and those weeks were grueling, hours finding the right directors and actors. I delegated the stage crew interviews to Ken, wanting him to be comfortable with the people who work for him.
“This is excellent, Ken. Tell them to keep up the good work. I’ll take the finals home tonight to preview, but we should be good to go.” I purposely stay away from the action, staying instead in my office. I stand, handing him a stack of new scripts, and he lifts his brow, seeing me. His eyes twinkle and his cheeks turn pink, embarrassed. Today is my first day wearing a maternity top. I was trying to hide that I am showing, but have instead only emphasized the fact. “I know...it’s horrible.”
“Not most beautiful, Barbie. Yesterday was a better choice.”
“Yesterday—” I start to refute him, because catching my reflection in a mirror yesterday was what led to the tent top. The swelling round of my lower abdomen was obvious, and even though I felt beautiful, I thought I should hide it away. “—was better.”
He pulls on the tail of my shirt. “Throw this away?” I nod and laugh.
“You should call her,” he says in a soft whisper. I think he shocked himself as much as he shocked me by offering an opinion into something so personal, because he hurries from the room without any further comment. How many times has he caught me listening to Geri’s voice?
Too many.
I sigh, hearing his hurried steps pad down the carpeted hallway. I don’t know what I would do without him.
I feel guilty about not calling her. She hasn’t called in six weeks. The last call was to give me her new phone number, she said it would make international calls easier, and though she didn’t say it, I have to assume she’s spending more time in Canada than in the States. I sit, replaying her messages...often enough for it to be some weird compulsion...often enough that I am finally strong enough not to cry every time I hear her voice. I decide Ken is right and dial her number before I can convince myself what a mistake I’m making, immediately regretting the call, but knowing I can’t hang up now that I’ve taken the first step. My heart pounds wildly as I listen to her phone ring. I think for a moment I will get her voicemail, but I don’t, I get her, and then I feel shy and unsure, saying stupidly, “Hi, how are you?”
I think I feel her shock at hearing my voice, but she had to know it was me, I reason. Wouldn’t her cell show an international call? But then, I think, maybe not, maybe I blindsided her.
“Simone.”
Oh shit. Is that an I’m-happy-you-called tone of voice or a Why-in-the-fuck-are-you-calling-me-fourmonths-after-I-poured-my-soul-out-to-you voice? I don’t bother saying that I should have called sooner. Obviously. And I always hate that when someone says that to me. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
This time I do hear the hurt in her voice. Meg or Tina must have told her. I wish I had called her myself. Shit.
“Thanks.”
“When are you due?”
“April twenty-second.”
Oh God, why did I call? This is painful.
After a long silence, I ask, “Did you mean what you said in the messages you left?”
“Did I mean that I love you? Yes. I love you. Am I willing to be a grown up and accept that you are who you are and it’s my personal issues I need to deal with when I confront why your career upsets me so much? You bet. Do I want to see you? Desperately.”
“Oh.”
“Are you calling because you want to see me again, Simone?”
“Desperately,” I say and then I start crying. “I’ve missed you. That’s why I haven’t called. I knew if I heard your voice I’d want to come back to Seattle. I had to wait. I had to get on my feet here.”
“You definitely waited,” she says and the way she says it makes me feel like I’m too late. I waited too long. Maybe she even found someone new. Oh hell. My eyes fill with tears, but I say what I was going to say anyway. “I was thinking I might come home for the holidays.” I walk over to the wide window that looks over the city, nervous movement to make it easier to say what I need to say. “We’re taking a break for the month of December. Can I call you when I get into town?”
“I’m not in Seattle.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised, but then not really. “Are you still wrapping up in British Columbia then?”
She laughs. “No, they wrapped themselves up quite nicely. Once the company was turning a profit, I allowed myself to be bought out...for about three times what I paid for it.”
“Wow,” I say. “Good investment move then.”
“Very. So I’ve expanded. I’ve decided to take Gaia Eco-Tours global, and so far so good. Right now
I’m in Shanghai.”
My heart stills. She’s so close. Three hours away, four tops.
“I’ll actually be in Hiroshima in three days.”
I may actually hyperventilate. I could see her in three days.
“I’d like to see you. I’m going to be reviewing a back-country-shrine hike. That will take about seven days, but after...I could come to Tokyo...if you want.” There is a long pause between us. I don’t know what to say. I want to see her more badly than I want to admit. Damn.
She speaks first. “I know that it’s the worst thing to say, but I was planning on calling you.”
“No,” I say. “Not the worst. The worst is saying that I wish I hadn’t waited so long to call you. It’s nice to hear your voice. Can I meet you in Hiroshima?”
God, why did I say that? I sound desperate. I do not want to sound desperate!
“Or you could meet me in Hiroshima. That would be very nice.”
Whew. Three days...I’m going to see Geri in three days!
♥
On a path that runs alongside the Aioi River, I stand facing the Gembaku Domu. With tears running down my cheeks, I wonder why on earth Geri wanted to meet here. Seeing the skeleton of one the few buildings to survive the atomic bomb, I am enveloped in sadness.
“That’s how I felt when you left.” I startle, turning to find her standing behind me. “Destroyed, barely there, but still standing. I knew I had to go on. I had to come out the other side better somehow.”
I never thought of Geri as bitter. I begin to question my sanity in coming here, but then she smiles and it is the hundred-watt smile that she was wearing the first time I ever laid eyes on her.
“Better, stronger...faster.” She holds out her arms and I walk into her hug.
“Should I call you the Bionic Woman?”
“Nah,” she snorts. “I’m not made of metal.” She backs away, looking down at my belly, which is half-hidden by a black pea coat. “Is that a baby bump?”
I open my coat and show her my very obvious baby bump. I wore black stretch pants and a spandex short-sleeved turtleneck. The effect is stunning...showing every girly curve...breasts, hips, and baby bump. I feel sexier than I ever did naked and on camera.
She bites her lip. Reaching out her hand, she hesitantly touches her fingertips over the slight swell of evidence. “Wow...there’s a little baby in there.”
“Two,” I correct. “There are two babies in there, which makes it very difficult to hide them.”
Geri shakes her head, “Don’t hide this. You are so beautiful. Radiant.”
> I look up and her eyes are glistening. I look away, saying, “I’m sorry about the way I left things between us.”
She wraps her hand around my upper arm, turning me to face her. I don’t want to see the tears falling down her cheeks. Still holding my arm, she wraps her other hand around the nape of my neck and pulls me roughly to her, kissing me with a fierce passion. I don’t resist her force and respond with an equal passion. Our tongues duel, our teeth clash...and I feel the toughness I built around my heart shatter. I feel my own tears welling as a bubble of tight emotion swells in my throat. “Oh God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you,” I say, wanting to say I love you...again...but knowing my heart won’t be able to take it if she doesn’t respond in kind. And even though she said it on the phone, I need to hear her say it to me first, face-to-face, before I will ever say those words to her again.
“How long can I have you?” she asks.
Forever. I shrug, I’m not expected back at the office for a few days. She nods and grabs my hand. “I want to take you someplace.”
She leads, I follow. She holds my hand on the train and on the ferry. I don’t ask where she is taking me, I don’t think it matters, because I don’t know how I will be able to take my eyes off her to see anything else she would want to show me. Stepping off the ferry, I do take my eyes off Geri because I can feel she has brought me someplace very special.
“The Island of the Gods,” she tells me and, facing the mist-surrounded mountains with the glimmering sea behind me, I understand how the island came to be known by that name. We walk, holding hands through the streets, around shrines. We eat, but I couldn’t say what it is, noodles with vegetables that are unimportant in light of the fact that I am sitting with Geri in the middle of paradise. Our eyes catch over the top of the table and I am overcome with emotion. I need her in my life.