Page 46 of Savior
As upset with Dean as I am, I can’t help but feel a little deserving of his secrecy. After all, I did keep a few of them from him, myself. Though, in my own defense, that was before we solidified our relationship. Now, we’re engaged to be married. I’m probably pregnant with his child. And this is different. It just is.
I push away the guilt that rises within me at that thought, however. I am going to tell him about the test results. I just want to make sure I’m actually pregnant, beyond any shadow of a doubt, before I do. God forbid I tell him prematurely, and it turns out I’m not. That would break his heart. I don’t know for certain, but I believe he’d want this baby. This is different. I’m not going to beat myself up this time. I’ve kept this pregnancy to myself, only a day, with every intention of telling him as soon as I know for sure. This is not the same as the secrets I kept from him in our recent past. Dean should have told me everything, months ago. Especially about Lucinda’s involvement. And as far as Legion goes, I’ll get to the bottom of that, myself.
To be completely honest, this whole new reality of possibly… No, probably, being pregnant, hasn’t even fully hit me yet. A part of me is in utter denial. Convinced this can’t be happening. He said he couldn’t. Yet, here we are. Somehow. I’m so concerned over his reaction to this news, so mad about this Lucinda letter, I haven’t even allowed myself to fully process my own feelings about it. In fact, I’m still not ready to unpack that fully.
I spend the entire work day stewing over Dean’s seemingly unshakable inclination to protect his bitch of an ex-wife. Is it really just about Maddie? I know he loves that little girl. And I feel like a bad person, wondering if he’d love our child as much as he loves her. I feel like a really bad person, hoping he’ll love ours, more.
Grabbing the broom to sweep out the shop while Laura and Ethan are out to lunch, I try to push these thoughts from my mind. Maddie is an innocent child. I don’t resent her. I resent her evil mother. It isn’t Maddie’s fault that Dean would probably sacrifice anything… and anyone… to protect that little girl. The bond he formed with her in those months he believed she was his... I’m sure she is the reason he hasn’t lifted a finger against Lucinda. And probably never will.
The way that vile woman uses Maddie like a human shield against him. The way Maddie is an unbreakable chain wrapped around Dean that Lucinda knows she can pull whenever she damn well pleases. It stirs a sick feeling in my stomach.
I glance at his ring on my finger, thinking back on something Lucinda said to me that day in the grocery store with Vixie. She had called him Our Dean. I thought he was mine when he gave this to me. Now I can’t help but wonder, with his bond to Maddie, will he always be Lucinda’s as well? Forever, Our Dean?
My cellphone chimes on my desk. I set the broom against one of the white columns and walk over to see who is calling me.
My mother. Wonderful.
I’m already in a wretched mood and debate whether or not I should even answer. Though, I suppose any distraction should be a welcome one. Lowering myself into Laura’s chair behind the desk, I pick up my phone.
“Hi, mom.”
“I was thinking a June wedding,” she says, launching right into it without even a Hello. “Have you and Dean discussed things further?”
“No, we haven’t. I’m not sure what we want yet.” Or if a wedding is even going to happen now. I don’t say that out loud, though. We have more issues in our relationship than I realized. I force myself to push those thoughts out of my mind. My mother’s impatient sigh through the phone brings me back to our conversation. “Mom, it’s barely been three months since we got engaged.”
“Well, one would think a bride to be, who happens to almost be thirty, would be eager to start planning her wedding. Anyway, you should start looking at venues, the acceptable ones book up well in advance, you know.”
“I know.” I try not to sigh myself, listening to her talk to me like I’m an idiot as I pick at my finger nails in my lap. She goes on about her wedding theme ideas for another five minutes.
“Will the ceremony be held in a Church?” she asks.
“Dean isn’t religious, mom, and honestly, neither am I.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I can hear the condescending tone in her words. “I forgot you’re into that New Agetrend that’s so popular right now.”
I hold my tongue, take a breath, and let it go. It’s not worth the argument.
“There’s a gorgeous Plantation not far from your town, near a lovely river. Your sister found it. I’m thinking of having a little gathering there. A multi-purpose party!” She chuckles as if it were a clever line. “You’ll be able to see the venue, and introduce your fiancé to our friends and family… He does own a suit, doesn’t he?”
I continue to pretend to take her opinions and thoughts on this party and my future wedding, to heart, as she rambles on for another few minutes.
“So, a June wedding?” she persists, trying to lock me in. “A year and some months should be enough time for you to get yourself ready, if you’re dedicated. You have to want to look good, Giovanna. Weight doesn’t just magically disappear. It takes effort. Even your sister makes time in her busy schedule to go to a gym throughout the week. Perhaps a nutritionist can help you? Double digits are for parking spaces, sweetheart, they should never be on a woman’s clothing tags. Don’t you want to look as good as you can in your wedding dress? You know those photos are forever...”
I angrily wipe a tear from my stinging eyes as I continue to yes her, now feeling worse than ever.
“And why haven’t you officially asked your sister to be your Maid of Honor? I know it’s assumed that she would be, but really Giovanna… Do the right thing.”
“Okay, mom...”
“Well, I have errands to run. Come up with a date and let me know. Your sister will be in touch about the party.”
She doesn’t even say good-bye.
I hang up the phone and chuck it back down on Laura’s desk.
With Vanna royally pissed at me, admittedly with good reason, I find myself at my shop, wishing I could seek solace in my other lady…
Two years of my spare time, and nearly forty-grand in cash, all in. That’s what it took, the last time I built Serene. I’ve been without her since mid-November. For months now, between customers bikes and staying after hours, not counting the several weeks I was down, recuperating from the wound Jack tore into my thigh in his final moments… I’ve worked on resurrecting my beloved motorcycle.
