Remy
REMY
I try to distract myself with the mysteries unearthed during Simone’s palm reading, what Mum said about Simone’s two worlds colliding, but as much food for thought as that is, one unavoidable thought persistently nudges its way to the forefront of my mind.
I’m pregnant.
I place my hand on my belly. With the way I eat, my stomach has never been flat, but its bottom curve feels different now. Someone’s in there.
I place the same hand on my forehead but with a resounding slap. I’m pregnant. How could I be so stupid? Reckless. Selfish. Desperate.
I pull the duvet over my head and curl myself, ironically, into the fetal position. How could this happen? What am I going to do? I try to think through this rationally, but my emotions overwhelm me, and I begin to cry, hot and helpless tears.
I don’t know how to make sense of my current situation because it’s not one I’ve imagined myself in for three years; the results of my fertility test wouldn’t let me, and so slowly but surely, I accepted my medical fate. Now, things have and have not changed.
I am pregnant, but even before I got the fertility results, I didn’t know if I wanted children and I still don’t know if I do, today.
When I had some semblance of a sex life at university, I always thought that if I got pregnant, I wouldn’t keep it.
I was too young; I was battling undiagnosed depression.
The answer seemed simple, but hypotheticals always seem simple.
Now, I’m unsure of how I would cope with the procedure.
I would never be able to tell myself, “It’s just another appointment.
” I know I would feel each and every step—from putting on the gown to the sound of the suctioning—deep in my soul.
I don’t think I have it in me to move on afterward. It would change me.
Both options available would change me.
I would love to go back to this time last year; everything was perfect .
Of course, I didn’t see it like that then.
I was (still) struggling to write a second book, but I had three best friends who weren’t going anywhere, I had my own place, TFF was coming out in paperback…
Things were great, but they were just my everyday, so I let them go by with little to no appreciation.
I guess I can cut myself some slack over that because no one knows when their last good day for a long time will be.
How life would transform if we did.
It’s 1:47 AM , and I still can’t sleep, and for someone who prides themselves on being deep in the clutches of an REM cycle by 11 PM every night, it’s a deeply uncomfortable experience.
I spend the next ten minutes asking the internet if it’s okay for me to sleep on my back before descending a rabbit hole of old wives’ tales.
I don’t want to think about whether the baby is a boy or a girl, so I exit out of that web page.
I don’t know whether the shock is wearing off or whether the news will exist in waves and my current numbness is simply the low tide.
Regardless, I remember I can use this restless night as an opportunity to video call the one person I know who has to be awake.
Maybe if I tell her everything, that will help me sleep.
Lin picks up on the second ring. “Hey, Rem. How’s it going?”
Picture one of those typical American TV shows where someone in a high-powered job is burning the midnight oil.
They’re at their desk and all the lights are off but theirs.
The backdrop is New York City at night. The protagonist has loosened their tie and is drinking their seventh cup of coffee while riffling through papers they’ve read a hundred times, hoping they’ll find something crucial they missed.
Got the image? Okay, right now, that protagonist is Lin.
“Hey, Lin. Erm… You’re still at the office? Isn’t it almost nine at night where you are?”
“Is it?” Lin rubs the dark circles deeper into her eyes. “Shit, it is. I missed lunch?”
“And dinner?”
Lin shrugs. “New Yorkers eat late. What are you doing up? It’s, like, two AM in London. You once fell asleep on the toilet waiting for midnight on New Year’s Eve. This has to be a record.”
“You could have knocked on the door before barging in! Anyway, I couldn’t sleep, but I thought you’d be at home or something… Lin, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good. I’m good.” She fixes her hair in a vain attempt to convince me. “It’s an adjustment period, you know? Things are just different, more fast-paced, more demanding, a bit cutthroat. It’s the city that never sleeps!” She buries her head into her hands. “Why doesn’t anyone fucking sleep?”
In any friendship group, each member is assigned personalities.
Lin is the fearless one. You’d be forgiven for thinking it’d be Nova; she may be loud, but she’s as soft and delicate as marshmallow.
To this day she still cries watching Titanic even though everyone now knows they both could have fit on that door, or at the very least, taken turns.
Lin has always wanted to be a lawyer, and she was the only one in our class at school who refused to have a backup plan.
It was law or nothing, so when she arrived in New York, I assumed she’d hit the ground running.
At first it looked like she had, but now she was lagging behind, and the retirement finish line was more than thirty years down the road.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Well,” she says, “there’s this promotion up for grabs…”
“Another one?”
“This one’s different,” Lin explains. “This one would take me from a trainee solicitor to a legal associate, so it’s a big deal.
One thing I miss about London is the decency to be subtle about this kind of thing.
Here, our boss basically announced that only three out of the seven of us were in line for it and that the number of hours we put in will be the deciding factor.
It’s between me, a guy who’s useless but I think is a family friend of someone high up, and Mikki. ”
“Your friend Mikki? The hot-air balloon person?” Lin nods. “Isn’t that a bit awkward?”
“Yeah… but there’s a no-hard-feelings culture here.”
“But…?” I probe, sensing there’s more that she’s not saying.
“I really want this promotion.” Lin sighs. “It’s just not easy. Not that I expected it to be.”
“Is there anything I can do? I know that seems like a stupid question.”
Lin gives a small laugh and closes the dense binder beside her. “No, nothing. I’ve just got to figure my shit out.”
“I already know the answer, but I have to ask… Would it be crazy for you to come home?”
Lin shakes her head. “I don’t quit, Rem, you know this.
Plus, I’d be unemployed. My family doesn’t do unemployment, especially by choice.
I also signed a one-year lease on my apartment and…
and I like it here, Remy. This job is killing me, no doubt, but I really feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. ”
I nod. “Of course. That was a dumb thing for me to say.”
Lin pouts and bats her eyes. “Aw, Remy, do you miss me?”
“Lin, I used to miss you when you lived in the same city.”
Lin’s playful smile drops. Quickly she straightens her face. “I’m going back to my hotel. Wanna come with me?”
“Yes, please.” I bury myself further under my duvet.
“This place does the best dumplings in New York,” Lin says, pointing to a white-and-red building with a neon sign.
“You haven’t been in New York long enough to say anything is the best in New York!”
Lin continues to walk. “There’s no other place that can top their dumplings.”
While we walk the six blocks, she tells me that because her team is all-hands-on-deck for this case and with her apartment in Brooklyn, her boss wants her closer to the office for the week, which means spending several thousand dollars to put her up in a nice hotel.
“A free hotel stay? That’s amazing!”
“Is it?” Lin asks with a raised brow. “You just saw me. Since I don’t have a train to catch, I stay later in the office than I usually would, meaning I work more hours than I’m officially contracted for.
The office provides breakfast and has a gym, so I clock in earlier than I would otherwise.
Trust me. I’m the one paying for this hotel. ”
Despite Lin being new to the city, she walks the streets like she’s grown up there. She effortlessly edges around people and navigates crowds without pausing to check signs or street names.
“And this”—Lin turns the camera round—“is the hotel lobby.”
“Fancy,” I say as Lin enters an elevator and we ride up three floors together.
When in her room, Lin collapses onto her bed, one side of her face visible, just like mine.
“Why did you call tonight, Rem?”
I hesitate only for a second. “I couldn’t sleep,” I answer. “And I missed you.”
“You know what, Remy?” She lets out a deep sigh. “I miss you, too.”
From: [email protected]
The concept of an all-female gang is good but I’m not seeing a hook or even a definitive plot point.
The women are just going around being a gang.
I’m going to be in New York for the NYC book fair soon.
I’ve got meetings with agents and publishers nonstop, and my out-of-office will be on, but still send your other ideas through…
The next morning, I sit at my desk and catch up with S&R. It’s not how I should be spending my time since I’m fast running out of old manuscripts to send Tara, and I’ve yet to be illuminated by a bright idea, but I can’t help it. I just want to know what happens to them next.