“As if we have money for either,” Valerie said when I handed her a beer in the tiny dining area next to the kitchen.
“Doesn’t cost anything to dream,” Emma said.
Emma’s tone was light, but Valerie looked away. I immediately thought of how expensive their pregnancy project was, and I knew that, ever so much more than a new kitchen, they dreamed of having a baby. Valerie was awfully intent on her beer label, making me wonder where they were in the math, counting days until ovulation or until they would find out whether they were pregnant. I felt exhausted for them.
“How’s your research going?” Emma asked, probably trying to direct all our thoughts away from her uterus.
“Great! It’s still early, but the human studies are looking very promising, which is getting the sponsor excited.”
Emma walked to the doorway, her hand on her hip. Strangers mistook Emma and Valerie for sisters all the time. Both tall, blond, and athletic, many people labeled their closeness as genetic instead of romantic until Valerie revealed her Australian accent. “Are you still working with your fat little diabetic mice?”
“We’re finished with them for now. We might come back to them. I have one of our postdocs working with the mice exploring other therapeutic targets. My boss is already riding my ass to help with the fast-track status with the FDA. They seem to think this drug has huge potential, since there’s nothing out there at all to treat diabetic blindness. All the complaints Ann had about the time I spent at work are even more valid now. Judy’s made it very clear that she expects me to live in the lab.”
“You can’t use work as an excuse. I work just as much as you do,” Valerie said.
“More,” Emma interjected.
Valerie rolled her eyes good-naturedly and continued. “And it’s not a problem because Emma has her own life. The problem with Ann was that she counted on you to be home. She was too needy. That’s her fault, not yours.”
“Val’s right. Ann was not driven enough.” Emma set bread on the table and squeezed my shoulder.
I attempted to defend Ann. “She was an entrepreneur.”
“She said she was going to start a dog-walking business until she figured out that walking a dog meant going outside where she had trouble seeing her phone,” Valerie reminded me. “She filled your garage with books that she picked up at thrift stores and said she was going to sell online. Did she ever actually make any money or just manage to spend yours?”
Emma brought a colorful quinoa salad to the table. “You need someone with the same energy you have.”
Emma talked about energy a lot. I smiled and accepted that she more freely embraced the unknown and classified any inexplicable phenomenon as “energy” even though I felt more comfortable with something that could be scientifically proven.
“What you call drive,” Emma revised. “I know where your brain goes when I say energy.”
Valerie and I shared a guilty look.
“I will say, though, your energy is great. You’re finally projecting that you’re available.”
Valerie scrutinized me. “She’s exactly the same as the last time we saw her.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Trust me. She’s radiating desire.”
I peered down at myself and then to Valerie who raised her shoulders and then dropped them. “Don’t see it.”
“You wouldn’t, and not just because your science brain has locked that door tight. You, of course, only have eyes for me.”
Valerie tipped back to accept a chaste kiss from her wife. “I won’t argue with that.”
“Back to you,” Emma said, setting down a plate of crispy baked chicken and gesturing to begin serving ourselves. “I mean you need someone with her own drive. Someone who understands that being a professional comes with demands. Someone who doesn’t expect you to hold her on the couch every night.”
I pictured Remi again. Her image alone was the polar opposite of Ann. Ann, who could spend an entire day in her pajamas, whereas my whole day felt off kilter if I wasn’t dressed by eight. I would bet Remi was the type to get up early without an alarm and go for a run to clear her mind for her day’s work.
“You’re thinking about this judge again.” Emma held up her glass of water. Valerie and I held up our bottles, and we clinked our drinks. “To energy.”
There was something inexplicable about the energy I’d felt at the fair, something that had crackled between me and Remi. “To energy,” I agreed.
“Okay. Now back to where to look for her.”
“I thought we were trusting my energy.”
“That only gets you so far. You can’t sit back and passively wait for her to come to you. You have to get out there. I have a suggestion. Go to a MeetUp for science professionals. They have them. I checked.”
“Why do I feel like I was tricked into a spot where I can’t say no?”
“Because that’s Emma’s thing. Welcome to my life.” She leaned over for another kiss. “When’s the next MeetUp?”
“I’m so glad you asked. It’s tomorrow in San Diego. I can put the address in your phone after dinner.”
“My phone?” Valerie asked.
“If you don’t go, Karla will promise to go and then say that her PI made her work.”
Valerie glared at me. “She’s got you pegged, mate.”
“Is there any way out of this?” I asked.
“Nope!” Emma said. “Your job is to be here at five. Valerie will navigate you.”
“What exactly do I get out of this?” Valerie asked.
“Are you kidding? Karla is your designated driver, and you have a chance to get shnockered.”
“Excellent!”
“You’ve figured everything else out, so you might as well tell me what to wear while you’re at it,” I grumbled.
“No plaid.”
I looked down at my plaid shirt. “I don’t always wear plaid.” I looked to Valerie for support.
“Ah, you sort of do, mate,” Valerie said apologetically.
* * *
As instructed, I met Valerie the next night dressed in a forest-green blouse and black slacks. Having passed inspection, I made the drive south to San Diego with Valerie.
“I’m doing this purely because Emma went to all this trouble. What are the chances that we’ll see this woman in San Diego? Who drives down to San Diego on a Saturday night?”
“Judging by all these cars, a lot of people. Including us.”
I navigated the traffic wishing I had gone into the lab and told Emma and Valerie that I’d had too much work to make the MeetUp. “Any progress on your dream?” I said to break the silence.
“Speaking of chances.” Valerie sounded downtrodden. “You know what they say! Out of the millions of sperm per ejaculate, it only takes one!”
“Thanks for getting me thinking about ejaculation.”
“You’re not the one warming a vial of sperm in your armpit.”
“No, I’m not. And I’d rather not picture the details.”
“So no talking about what syringe to bring home from the lab?” Valerie asked.
“You don’t!” I shot her an incredulous look.
“No. The clinic actually sends a whole kit with…”
“Again, don’t need to think about it.”
A few minutes passed before Valerie added, “You probably don’t want to hear about how orgasm can help the sperm enter the uterus. You see…”
“Don’t want to know! Don’t need to know!”
“How can this bother you? You’re a scientist. Don’t the details fascinate you? Think about that. All those little swimmers, and your job…”
“I’m sure the procedure is very interesting minus the details that make me think about you having sex with your wife.”
“That’s fair.”
I felt bad for cutting off my friend. “Will Emma try the clinic next time?”
“Nope.”
“But you said the success rate is higher when they do the insemination.”
“Yes, well. She’d rather us try switching ovens before we go to a lab.”
“Switching ovens? What does that mean?” I looked over at Valerie, but she was staring out the window. “You mean you? Your uterus? You’d carry the baby?”
“That’s the idea. Can’t very well get me pregnant and move the fetus to her uterus.”
“Is that okay with you? I thought she was the oven because it was easier for her to take time off from the studio. Wouldn’t Dr. Seonwoo flip?” It was easy to predict how Judy would react if I were to get knocked up.
“You know what they say. I’ll jump off that bridge when I come to it.”
“I don’t think that’s how it goes.” I glanced over again and saw Valerie’s worried look. “You’re that scared?”
“The whole time, it’s been Emma wanting to be pregnant. I want a family and her being pregnant made sense. This…”
“It’s bigger?”
“A hell of a lot bigger.”
The rest of the hour-long drive was quiet until Valerie’s phone chirped out directions to Sloan’s Grill and Arcade. I wasn’t sure what to say to Valerie, but she jumped out of the car before I could think of anything. The noise inside obviated talking anyway, so I braced myself for the screeching of the video games and the big-screen TVs and tried to calm my anxiety. I hated places like this. “How are we supposed to talk to anyone with all this noise?”
“The restaurant side isn’t so loud. But let’s find the bevies first,” Valerie said, heading to the bar.
Valerie ordered a pale ale for herself and a virgin margarita for me. Drinks procured, we headed into the restaurant and found a small group socializing awkwardly in the corner. I was immediately grateful to Emma for sending Valerie. The moment she introduced the two of us as scientists from The Miracle Center, everyone was asking about her accent and how long she had been in the United States. As long as she had a beer in her hand, chatting with strangers did not sap her energy as it did mine. It was easy to fade into the woodwork, especially when, as I’d suspected, the universe had not placed Remi in the group.
“Are you cancer as well?” a member of the group who had clearly consumed a good deal of beer leaned over to ask.
“Diabetes.”
“Oh, I heard that Miracle Center might be collaborating with a biotech on a hot clinical trial. Do you know Dr. Vogelsang?”
“Yes,” I said honestly.
“Devon,” the man said, thrusting his hand into mine. “I would kill to postdoc in that lab.” Getting the attention of others in the group, he gave a rundown of the work my lab was doing. “And she knows her.”
Valerie gave me a questioning look. I ever so slightly shook my head. If I admitted that I actually worked with Judy, there would be no way to dislodge myself from the discussion. I didn’t want to talk to a guy about work. I wanted to talk to one specific woman about sparks. “I heard her talk at a campus symposium. Her postdocs were grousing about how unreasonable her hours are.”
“Oh, I thought you knew her.”
I knew her all too well. I saw her more days than not. It didn’t matter how early I got to work or how late I stayed, Judy was there. And present. “You’re studying diabetes as well?” I asked, hoping that switching the focus to him would at least end his inquiry about Judy’s lab.
“Tying up loose ends in the lab where I did my grad work at UCLA.” I got what I’d hoped in terms of him not digging for more information about Dr. Vogelsang. However, he launched into tedious details about his methodology on a paper that had recently been accepted. I kept looking for a way to dislodge myself politely from the conversation. Still nodding noncommittally at Devon, I startled when Valerie elbowed me.
“What?” I snapped at my friend, her eyebrows high on her forehead, and nodding in Devon’s direction.
Devon waited expectantly. “Have you read Hyperglycemia-Induced Damage to Target Proteins Leading to Retinopathy and Blindness in Diabetes?” he asked. “Hernandez and Vogelsang’s paper. I’ve read it through a half dozen times looking for an angle to build on.”
“I haven’t had a chance yet,” I lied. I pulled on Valerie’s sleeve. “But Valerie’s been talking about it, too.”
“Seeing a similar correlation in human cells would be exciting, wouldn’t it?”
Had I come clean about knowing Judy, it would have been fun to talk with such a thorough reader about my findings. Why had I lied? I was a terrible liar and kicked myself for putting myself in a position where I would have to carefully monitor what I said for the remainder of the evening. Stuck now, I listened to Valerie fake her way through the conversation based on the scope of knowledge she had from our chats.
“I owe you a beer,” I whispered, taking Valerie’s empty glass. I wished I could convince Valerie to turn around and leave, but after fighting traffic to get there, Valerie wasn’t about to get back in the car anytime soon. While I waited at the bar, I started to text Emma about my predicament. As I typed, I breathed in a sweet scent that sent my mind spinning. I closed my eyes and inhaled again, willing my memory to place it. I breathed in the lazy days of vacation. I breathed in purple, and my mind snapped to the scent. Lilac.
“Ale and a water,” the bartender said.
I opened my eyes and pocketed my phone, message unsent. Accepting the drinks, I raised the glass of water to take a sip and at the same moment recognized Remi. I inhaled sharply, and I was seized by a coughing fit. I clumsily set down the glasses as I tried to catch my breath.
Remi reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I am now , almost left my lips. Not trusting my voice, I nodded and blinked. “I don’t seem to be able to breathe around you.” Yeah, that was better. I almost smacked myself in the forehead.
“Karla!” Recognition shifted her tone. “Oh my goodness! Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
“I’m fine,” I uttered between coughs. I risked a sip of water and cleared my throat. “Just a little water down my windpipe. I really do quite well with this whole breathing thing most of the time.”
“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Remi glanced at the arcade and then back to me as if she was trying to decide whether to say something more. Her eyebrows pulled together, and she said, “You never called.”
“I did!” I insisted. “You gave me the wrong number.”
“I did not!”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled up my call history. I tipped the screen toward Remi for her to see. Remi crossed her arms over her chest. “You dialed wrong. That’s not my number. You reversed the seven and the three.”
“But I checked, and my friend checked! I’m sure I dialed the number you gave me.” I wanted to throw my arms around her. Squabbling over her number wasn’t what I’d imagined happening when I saw her again. My heartrate surged. I’d found her!
“Oh.” Remi bit her lip. “Did I mention I’m dyslexic?”
My defensiveness dissolved. All could be forgiven since we now stood in front of each other again, couldn’t it? “I don’t think we got past talking about my insomnia.”
Remi opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped. I jumped as an arm slung around my shoulder.
“Way to leave me in the lion’s den!” Valerie said, plucking her ale off the bar, oblivious to the woman next to me.
Remi took in Valerie’s close proximity, immediately taking a step back. I quickly disentangled myself. “Valerie, this is Remi, the judge I was telling you about.”
Valerie’s jaw literally dropped.
“And this is my colleague and friend Valerie.”
Remi extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Valerie whooped louder than necessary. “I can’t believe this worked!”
“What worked?” Remi continued to look between the two of us.
“My wife sent us here to find you when Karla here hit a dead end asking the science fair people for your contact info.”
“You asked
the school?”
“I told you. The number you gave me didn’t work.”
The bartender set two drinks in front of Remi. She closed her beautiful eyes for a moment as if she were collecting herself. “I was a last-minute substitute for someone who got sick, and the principal at one of my schools volunteered me. They had my given name, Andromeda.”
I wanted her to say her given name again. I maybe thought I’d read a story with the name Andromeda in it before, but I’d never met anyone with the name. “Andromeda?” I tried my best to mimic her pronunciation.
“Yes. Remi is a childhood nickname that stuck.”
“So you teach science?” Valerie asked.
“Oh, no. I’m a behavioral psychologist. I work at several district schools with special-needs children.” Remi’s gaze slipped away to the arcade once again and her sparkle faded for a moment. She was with someone, I realized, remembering the drinks waiting to be delivered. I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. As if reading my mind, Remi picked up the two glasses.
“Do you want to join us?” Valerie asked. “It’s quieter here at the bar than it is in the arcade.”
“I’m sorry I can’t. I’ve been away too long.” She held up the glasses in a subtle toast as she left.
“She didn’t want to go, right?” I asked Valerie. “She looked reluctant, right? Not excited to get back to whoever’s in the arcade?”
“You twit,” Valerie snapped as Remi walked away. “Did you even get her real number?”
“No. The wrong number thing probably blew my chance. She’s obviously here with someone. Two drinks. Nice to see you. Goodbye. I’m such a dork. Can we go now?” I rubbed my eyes with my fingertips, groaning audibly. “We can’t go back to the MeetUp after I lied to Devon about whose lab I work in.”
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