Page 70 of Savior
“Nothing too dire, Mr. Keegan.” She replies calmly, looking back at Vanna. “But your levels indicate that you’re rather anemic.”
“What? How? Why? What do we do to fix this?” I rapid fire questions at the doctor before Vanna can get a word in edgewise.
“Your weight is also down, Miss Vettriano, by several pounds since your last office visit… That’s a considerable drop in such a short amount of time. Weight loss in and of itself isn’t a bad thing, but you are pregnant, and I have to ask. Are you eating enough throughout the day?”
When Vanna hesitates, my gaze shifts to intently stare at her. If she’s not eating for fear of what her mother thinks about what she might look like in a wedding dress, I’m going to dead the whole issue right the fuck now. Baby before marriage. Her family can fuck all the way off. The pinkening flush coloring her cheeks, tells me all I need to know. God damnit. For now, I keep my mouth shut, biting my tongue as I let the doctor warn her.
“Your body produces more blood to support the growth of your baby. If you’re not getting enough iron or certain other nutrients, your body might not be able to produce the amount of red blood cells it needs to make this additional blood.” The doctor goes on. “It is normal to have mild anemia when you’re pregnant, but this level is something we need to rectify. Fortunately, we’ve detected this issue very early on. It’s important to realize that there are always risks with pregnancy, even if we do everything we’re supposed to be doing. But once we have you on the right track, and we make it past the twelve-week mark, like we discussed earlier, at this time, you’re showing no other signs that there may be additional complications.”
The Doc glances at me, as if wondering whether or not I’m aware of the elevated risk of miscarriage during the first trimester. I give her a curt nod to indicate that we do not need to have this conversation. She goes on to inform Vanna of what symptoms to expect in these next few weeks, vitamins and foods she needs to start consuming immediately, and tells us to schedule her next appointment on the way out, two to three weeks from now, to check her iron levels again.
I wait until we’re in the parking lot, to hit Vanna with the third degree.
“You’re not eating?” I try not to sound accusatory, as we walk across the lot towards my bike.
“I am… I was just…” She hesitates. “I didn’t know I was pregnant, Dean. Please, give me break.”
“I know you eat dinner. I’m usually with you for that. But I’m not with you throughout the day, Vanna. I’m gonna ask you this once more. Are you not eating like you should be?”
She lets out an aggravated sigh before she answers. “I was skipping a few meals here and there. And like you said, I have been eating dinner with you. So, it’s not as if I’ve been starving myself, Dean. I eat every day. Please, don’t make a big deal about this.”
“You do realize that morning sickness hasn’t even set in yet, right? That you’re already in the negative in this aspect, going into this phase already anemic?” I want to be delicate with her about this situation, but she needs to understand what I’m saying to her. “When morning sickness kicks in, when you start throwing up, when you really can’t eat, Vanna…”
She stops walking to turn and look at me now, her brows pinched together and pitched upward. “You’re acting like I’ve done something on purpose to hurt this baby! I didn’t know there was a baby!”
I gently take her by her arms, bending to look her intently in the eyes. “No, I’m not, Vanna. And I would never think that.”
“Well believe me, I realize how important this pregnancy is to you. That’s the initial reason I considered not telling you right away. I was going to wait until we were past the twelve-week mark.” She gives me another slight frown, and I have a feeling she’s going to slam me with that Lucinda shit again. “Your little secret almost made that decision a lot easier for me.”
Yep. There it is. I’m not going to rehash that argument again.
“It is important to me. But so are you, doll.” Her eyes drop to the pavement, and I lift her chin to force her eyes back to mine. “You are my priority. You, Vanna, come before everything. I hate to even say these words, but the thought of you harboring doubts in your mind about my true feelings, isn’t a chance I’m willing to take. I want this baby with you. I was caught up in the moment when I said I wanted it more than anything. There is only one thing I want more. You, Vanna. Always, you. Your health. Your life. You come first, doll. I want you to know that.”
“Alright.” She timidly replies.
“Why would you even think to do this to yourself? Over a fuckin’ dress you’re only going to wear once? You are beautiful, Vanna.”
“Aren’t brides to be supposed to be figure conscious?” She lets out a huff of air, throwing up her arms in an attempt to shake my grip. “I at least had to pretend to be, with Jack.”
I release her and try not to let my temper rise at the mention of his name. A deep resentment gnaws at me. His fucking ability from beyond the grave, to seep into what should be joyous moments in our relationship. I fucking hate it… Though I know, Vanna’s healing from him will take time. It’s just something we’re going to have to work past.
“You don’t ever have to pretend anything with me, Vanna.” I sigh. “I am nothing like Jack… Just as you are nothing like Lucinda.”
She looks at me dolefully now, folding her arms as he holds herself. “I know that… I do.” She insists.
I force myself to let it go. “So, you’re worried about the dress, that it?”
She shrugs slightly, and I know this has her fuckin’ mother written all over it, too.
“Vanna, I’d marry you anywhere, in anything. I don’t give a shit what you wear. We can fuckin’ elope if you want to.”
She lets her arms drop now, expelling another frustrated breath. “I can’t do that to my family, Dean.”
“Fuck them, Vanna. I’m your family.” I say, lowering my hand to press gently against her stomach. “We are your family. And if a fuckin’ dress is the reason you’re not taking care of yourself, then I don’t want a big white fuckin’ wedding.”
“You don’t?” she almost pouts up at me, and I realize, she’s probably pictured having just that. Growing up in the type of family where it’s probably expected, since she was a little girl. Fuck. And here I am, dashing her dreams.
“I mean… If it’s what you want, then yeah. Sure.” I attempt to backpedal.
“But now I’m pregnant. I’m going to have to wear a pregnant lady dress… My mother is going to flip.”
“Then I say we pick a date in early November. Wait until you’re about to fuckin’ pop, waddling down the aisle, looking like a lacey white seahorse in a fitted dress.” I smile, trying to make her laugh. Thank fuck she does.
“A lacey white seahorse?” she wipes the tears from her eyes as she catches her breath from laughter. “My mother would be mortified if I wore a dress that accentuated the fact I got knocked up before marriage. And Heaven forbid I should do so, whilst waddling!”
I honestly can’t wait until she’s showing. “I think it’s fuckin’ beautiful.”
“You would, you freak.” She teases me.
“If you want to wait until after the baby, I understand, doll. If we wait, then at least you’ll have more dress options.” I say. “But just for the record, I don’t care what you’ve got on, or where we are when we say our vows. So long as you’re there to say em’ with me.”
