We had a big discussion that night about the egg implantation. My suggestion was that Angela should go first, since the collection had gone much easier for her and that way we could see if it would take before trying with Emmy, but the other two voted me down.

Angela wanted the two babies to be born as close as possible to each other and Emmy just wanted to get going with things and have the implantation done as soon as possible.

Of course I caved, since Emmy was ultimately the one who was likely to do the most suffering and she was all for jumping right in.

We scheduled the appointments for both of them one after the other on the same day at the end of the week. We’d already discussed with our fertility doctor about the number of embryos to be implanted, and we all agreed that only one would be transferred on that first visit. We would keep trying until a pregnancy occurred if we needed to, but we didn’t want to wind up with either Emmy or Angela carrying twins (or more).

I couldn’t focus on class that Tuesday night, so I asked Myles to send me his notes later (he was an excellent note-taker) and left for home at the break.

Back at home, I wasn’t much better. I felt nervous and unable to focus, despite having two wonderful women trying to help me relax.

I was at the fight gym the next morning when Eddie arrived to open the place up, desperately needing a workout to try to get my mental state sorted out. Weights helped, but during my plyo work one of the regulars came over to talk.

“Hey,” he said. “Um, you fight, right? I mean, I know you, uh, kicked Linda Rubio’s ass, so obviously you do, but… Well, I mean, Coach Jody isn’t here to work with you any more, and I just wanted to say that if you need a sparring partner…” he said awkwardly.

“You’d be willing to get in the ring with me?” I asked, a little bit amused at his approach.

“I mean, yeah,” he replied. “We could, like, take it easy, if…”

Eddie bustled over, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Hey, kid,” he said, about to put a stop to things, but he saw the look in my eyes. Changing course, he said, “Look, um… Joey, right? If you’re gonna spar with her, I’m gonna need you to understand some things. You, too,” he said, turning to me. “Normally, I’d tell a guy who was gonna spar with a chick to, like, take it easy, you know? But I don’t think I need to do that this time. What I will tell you both is I want full protective gear, alright? Training gloves, full face headgear, shinguards, all of it.” Turning to me, he said, "I know you got all that stuff, but do you?” he asked Joey.

“Um, not the headgear, but the rest of it, yeah, in my bag,” Joey said.

“Alright, I’ll give you a loaner this time, but you’re gonna want to buy your own,” Eddie said. “Oh, and I’m gonna need to ref this one, too.”

“Ref a spar?” Joey asked, puzzled.

“Yes,” Eddie said, and the serious expression on his face put an end to any other questions.

“Leah, you been workin out for over an hour. You need a break before…?” Eddie asked.

“No, I’ll be ready by the time I get geared up,” I said, wiping my face with a towel.

“You, Joey?”

“No, um, I’m good,” Joey replied, really starting to wonder what all the fuss was about.

About ten minutes later we were in the ring, and when some of the others saw what was about to happen they started to gather around.

“Alright,” Eddie said. “Standard rules. Keep it clean, keep it, um, gentlemanly. But you,” he said, pointing at Joey. “Don’t hold back. Don’t be thinking you’re hitting a girl, because I guarantee you, she won’t be too concerned about hitting a guy. Remember, this is a friendly training bout, but it’s also a real spar, so do it right. Got it?”

When we both nodded, he pointed to the two opposite corners. We tapped gloves, then retreated to our corners. I was a little nervous, since I’d seen Joey spar before and he was a decent fighter. I had a lot of reach on him, though, so I felt I could probably determine the flow of the fight. From what I could remember seeing, he was mostly a striker, which lessened my weakness against a male fighter.

Eddie clapped his hands for us to go at it and Joey took a few steps forward, hands raised. I stepped up, but not enough to close the distance. When he moved forward again, I hit his ankle with a low kick at just the right moment, knocking him off his feet.

As quick as that, I was in on him, raining down blows he was doing everything he could to block.

Eddie separated us, then waved us back in. Joey was a bit more cautious, so I stepped in to lay a few jabs, bringing myself within his range.

He went for a right hook, but I got inside and gave him a quick couple of knees to the chest, then pushed him back. He went reeling, so I followed up with a solid kick to the head, sending him to the mat.

Eddie waved me off, then stood over Joey. “You O.K., kid? You good to go?”

Joey stood up, shaking his head to clear it. “Yeah, Eddie, I’m good, She just caught me by surprise, that’s all,” he said, straightening up and resuming his stance.

“Alright,” Eddie said. “Get to work!” he commanded, clapping his hands together again.

Joey took me a lot more seriously after that, and approached me like a real fighter. My keys to success were to keep out of his range but within mine, which was easier said than done. Joey resorted to a strategy of coming in hard, taking whatever hits were needed to get in and lay some really solid punches and kicks on me when he could.

He was always going to suffer like that, though, because for every hit he managed to land on me, I got in two or more on him. At some point he realized it, too, and had enough sense to change things up.

After a particularly good kick to his ribs, he trapped my foot to pull me in. I saw his right wind up, and as he swung I threw myself into a spin and brought my left foot up and clocked him hard as he overbalanced with his missed punch. He had no choice but to let me go as he fell forward, needing both hands to catch himself.

Once I had his back there was no route to success for Joey and after trying and failing to get out and taking a rain of blows, he tapped out.

I helped him up and tapped gloves. Taking out my mouthpiece, I said, “Good fight, Joey. Thanks- I really needed that.”

“Holy shit, Leah, was it? You can really fight!” he said. “I can’t believe how fast you are!”

“You got in some good hits, too,” I said. “I’m gonna be feeling it the next few days.”

“Alright, kids, “ Eddie said. “That was a good bout. That’s just what I like to see. Now both of you, go drink some water and cool down.”

Stepping out of the ring, I realized that half the gym had been watching Joey and me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, since I’d been told several times that I was a big mystery and everyone wanted to know if I could actually fight or not.

“Damn, Leah,” Richie said, handing me a bottle of water. “You took him apart!”

Shrugging, I said, “It was just a friendly spar, that’s all.”

“Shit- I’d hate to be on the receiving end of one of your unfriendly spars, then.”

“Joey’s a decent fighter,” I said. “He held back a little at the start, but once he got into it it was anybody’s game.”

“No, it wasn’t,” one of the other gym trainers said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You were reading him like a book,” the coach said. “You had him any way you wanted him.”

“What would you have done?” Richie asked the coach.

“Honestly? If it had been me in that ring?” The coach mused. “Wrestle. She,” he said, gesturing at me, “is unbelievably fast, right? You saw it. And it looked like a lot of strength in those blows, too. The only answer is to take that out of the equation. Grapple, get on the floor, and go for submission. That’s the answer. The only answer.”

“Hey, I’m Leah,” I said, introducing myself to the coach.

“Lawrence,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Lawrence,” I said. “I may be in the market for some private lessons, if…”

“Nah, sorry,” Lawrence said, shaking his head. “I’m not the guy for you. I appreciate it, but you need somebody else.”

As Coach Lawrence walked away, Richie said, “You remember when I said I’d be glad to spar with you? I take that back.”

“No take backs!” I joked as we walked back towards the mats, rubbing my thigh where Joey had landed a particularly good kick.

“So, um, Leah, you know how I said that a lot of the guys were really curious about you?” Richie asked.

“Yeah?”

“Well, you answered one question, but we kinda already knew that you could fight when you put the beatdown on Linda Rubio, right?” Richie said.

“And?”

“Well… Now that we all got to actually see you in the ring, it’s gonna start people talking again,” Richie finished lamely.

I stopped and turned to face him. “Look. Here’s the truth. I’m a real estate developer, not some sort of government killer or something. I build and rent apartments to people, that’s it.”

“Huh,” Richie said, visibly deflated. “You know they say you got that scar in a knife fight,” he said, pointing at his cheek.

“Well, that part is true,” I admitted.

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, gaping.

“I grew up in a rough neighborhood,” I said with a shrug.

“No shit!” Richie said, still trying to figure out if what I’d just told him was true or not.

Leaving the locker room dressed for work in my dark blue pinstriped skirt suit, a lot of the guys in the gym watched me go. I was sure Richie was right and tongues would be wagging, but whatever. I’d kind of known it would happen if I actually sparred with any of the regulars, after all. Knowing that eyes were on me, I walked out the door like it was any other day and I was going to work in an office, making damned sure not to favor my bruised leg.

As it turned out, a good fight was just what I’d needed to get my head back on straight for work. All my nerves, all the random thoughts and worries about the appointments at the fertility clinic, all of that seemed to have vanished. Sure, I was still a bit concerned about the visit and especially what it would do to Emmy, but after my solid session in the gym that morning it all seemed to be just that bit more manageable.

That night, getting ready for my bath, Emmy noticed my bruises. I really don’t bruise that easily, but Joey was quite strong and few hits had really knocked me hard.

“Leah, how did this happen?” Emmy asked, looking at my ribs when I took off my shirt.

“Sparring at the gym this morning,” I said, as casually as I could. Just a sort of, ‘yeah, no biggie’ attitude in my voice.

“This looks very painful!” Emmy said, reaching out to touch my outer thigh, but just barely keeping her fingers off in case it was sore.

“What is it?” Angela asked, joining us in the bathroom.

“Leah got in a fight today,” Emmy said.

“It was a sparring match, not a real fight,” I protested, not wanting to make a production out of it.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Angela asked, kneeling down to examine my bruised leg.

“You know why,” I said, sinking slowly into the blisteringly hot water.

“I wish…” Emmy said, her voice soft and concerned.

“Em, you know why, and you know that I’ve accepted it all on my own,” I said.

Her face miserable, she said, “Yes, I do know that, but I still wish that it was not necessary.”

“So do I, babe, but this is what I signed up for,” I said, taking her hand.

Angela stood next to the tub, her hands on her hips. “Is this about your… your paramilitares?” she asked.

“Well, sort of,” I confirmed. “It’s a bit more complicated, but basically, yeah, it’s all part of the same thing.”

“Be careful. That’s all I ask,” Angela said with a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“I do my best,” I said, relaxing in the hot water.

“I know you do, Lee. I know you only take risks you think you can control, and I know you need to push, to… to strive for more. I just worry sometimes,” Angela said, running her fingers through my hair. “But…” she said, trailing off.

When Angela didn’t continue, Emmy asked, “But?”

Angela’s face fell and her shoulders slumped. “But… the reason I love Lee is because she is so…” she said, trying to find the words. “So… fierce. So untamed. Not… savage, that isn’t the right word, but- well, yes, untamed. I don’t want her to change, just because I worry.”

A soft look came over Emmy’s face. “This is true. Leah is magnificent, is she not? She is a lion.”

“Yes, that’s it. Lee is a lion. Ferocious, deadly, but beautiful at the same time,” Angela agreed.

“Rawr,” I said, making a pawing motion, earning me laughs from the two.

Friday morning at the gym, the atmosphere was different than I was used to. Before, when I’d been working with Jody, nobody really talked to me. I knew that was because Jody had told everybody to stay away, but also, I think, it was because I was something of an enigma and the regulars just didn’t know how to act around me.

Somehow me sparring with Joey changed things. Now I wasn’t as much of a mystery. I was just another fighter in a gym full of them. Now they could relate to me on that level, and it made me more approachable.

As usual, I was there right when Eddie opened the door, first one in. Joey came in not long after, and when he saw me working the heavy bag he came over to talk.

“Hey, uh, Leah, that was a good, um, session the other day. I just wanna say, if you ever need someone to beat up on, I’d be happy to, well, get back in the ring, if you want.”

“Joey, it was good. And I’ll absolutely take you up on it, but I want you to promise me something,” I said, taking a break from the bag.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Despite what Eddie said, you still started out slow. Next time, come at me like you mean it.”

Joey laughed and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ll know better next time,” he said. “It’s just, I never fought a girl before, you know? I t was kinda weird for me at first. Even as hard as this head is,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the side of his head, “I can still learn.”

Laughing, I gave him a high five. “Joey, here’s your tip for today. When you line up a right, you drop your left a little bit. You totally telegraph your intentions.”

“Yeah?” Joey said, taking a fighting stance, then shadow-boxing a right. Sure enough, his left dropped just a moment before. He did it a couple more times, trying to keep his left up, eventually getting better about it.

“Practice that,” I said. “But also, use it. If your opponent learns to read that a right is coming, you can bring in an unexpected left, or even better a kick, and they won’t be prepared.”

“What, like this?” Joey asked, taking the stance, then dipping his left a bit as if he were about to lay a right cross, but bringing out a right low kick instead.

“Hell yeah,” I said. “Remember what Yogi Berra once said: Half of all fighting is ninety per cent mental.”

“I don’t think he actually said that,” Joey laughed.

“He also said, ‘I don’t think I’ve said half the things I’ve said’,” I replied.

The appointment at the fertility clinic was surprisingly anticlimactic. No anesthesia was needed, since it was a simple, painless procedure. Angela was fine, of course, and Emmy was only slightly crampy afterwards, but not enough to dim her smile.

“We will know in ten days,” Emmy said with a smile as we left the clinic.

“Ten loooong days,” Angela moaned. “I don’t know if I can wait that long!”

The three of us had lunch that day at a little Indonesian restaurant on the west side, near the office. Sandy had taken me there a couple of times for lunch meetings, and I liked the food and the low-key atmosphere of the place.

The waitress eventually worked up the courage to ask Emmy for a selfie, and of course Emmy was happy to oblige. This opened the floodgates and soon Emmy was posing for pictures with the entire restaurant staff, charming everybody.

In the car, Angela said, “Em, it still amazes me how everybody loves you. You get people eating out of your hand like it was nothing,” she said.

“I like people,” Emmy said with a shrug. “Being polite and pleasant comes easy to me.”

“It’s much more than just that, babe,” I said. “Much more.”

“We are close to your new office, are we not?” Emmy asked, changing the subject. “Can you give us a tour?”

“Yeah, we can do that,” I agreed, changing lanes to make a right turn to head back west and toward the office.

Showing Emmy and Angela around work went about the way I expected. Everybody knew I was married to a famous rock star, but actually getting to meet her and talk to her was something else. Again, Emmy posed for selfies with anybody who asked, and generally just wowed all the staff. She made small talk like a champion, turning every conversation around so that she was asking about their lives, rather than having it all be about her. All in all it took us about two hours to make our way through the two buildings.

Honestly, it wasn’t one hundred per cent about Emmy. A lot of the staff seemed taken by Angela, too, but I don’t know how many actually knew we were in a relationship with the three of us. Sure, a few did, but I don’t know if Nash, Sandy, Jake or one of the others had spread the gossip. In any case, we finally got out of there and found our way back home for some relaxing cuddle time on the couch.

Emmy and Angela had been especially affectionate the last few days, since we got the news that the eggs were ready. That afternoon when we finally got to settle down after the implantation appointment (the clinic called it ‘transferral’) Angela and Emmy were especially so. It seemed that neither one of them could pass a moment without touching me or each other. They held hands, held my hands, kissed and nuzzled each other and when I flopped down on the couch, both somehow managed to drape themselves across me and each other.

Don’t get me wrong- I enjoyed it, but it was as if some sort of switch got flipped and both of them went straight into nesting mode. As I lay on the couch, buried under my two lovebugs, I wondered how the next nine months were going to go. It might not exactly be death by snu-snu, but it was probably going to be death by cuddlebunnies.

“What do you think of the name Celeste?” Emmy asked as I was drifting off.

“It’s beautiful,” Angela said, and I mumbled some sort of agreement.

“It means ‘heavenly’,” Emmy said.

“It is a very pretty name,” Angela said. “But it is bad luck to choose a baby name before the child is born.”

“I am just thinking about names now,” Emmy said with a little laugh. “I will not pick one until she is born.”

“I was thinking about Leonora,” Angela admitted. “I think it’s from Italian, but it was very popular in Colombia in my grandmother’s time. It means ‘light’, I think. But I also like it because it is like a feminine version of ‘Leon’, which means lion. Since Lee is a lion, I thought…”

“I like that,” Emmy said, kissing Angela’s cheek.

“I was thinking maybe we could name the girls Eunice and Ethel,” I said, amused.

“No, you were not,” Emmy said indignantly, giving me a light slap on my shoulder.

“Terry and Geri?” I offered.

“I hope you realize that you just lost any rights to name our babies,” Emmy said, resting her head on my shoulder again.

The next morning Angela skipped driving with me so she could stay home with Emmy. Since there was going to be no smooth leg to rest my right hand on, I took the Vantage out in what felt like the first time in forever. It was nice, like spending time with an old friend. I’d forgotten how sweet the rumble of that twelve cylinder engine sounded through the Capristo exhaust as I wound it out. Just to blow the carbon off the valves, mind you- not because I enjoyed the sound and speed. No, not at all, officer.

Stein was waiting at the meeting spot when I got there, a paper coffee cup in his hand while he leaned against his McLaren, checking his phone.

“I didn’t realize you still had that Aston,” he said as I climbed out of the low-slung car.

“I’d have a hard time ever parting with this baby,” I said, patting the Madagascar Orange hood.

“Why don’t you ever drive it?” he asked, curious.

“Honestly? To tell you the truth, it’s because Angela rides with me most of the time.”

“She doesn’t like it?” Stein asked, puzzled.

“No, she does, but it’s a manual,” I said, miming shifting through the gears.

“And?”

“Nowadays my right hand prefers resting on her leg,” I said, miming stroking a smooth thigh.

“Checks out,” Stein said, nodding.