Come To Me (Owned 3)

I knew what I felt, but I couldn’t admit it. I couldn’t accept that part of myself, for fear that Lenny wasn’t ready. There was still a chance I’d have to forget all about the parts of me that were starting to sprout up like weeds…or were they flowers?

“Yeah,” Lenny muttered. “We really need to get new toothbrushes.”

“And?”

“And…” A slow, ridiculously happy grin spread across her face. “And we’re pregnant.”

“Oh my god, Vic!”

“What?” I shot straight up, eyes meeting nothing but black. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Are you okay?” Without a word, Lenny jumped out of bed and ran straight to the bathroom. I threw off the blankets and quickly followed suit. Leaning on the frame, I rubbed my eyes and adjusted to the light. Lenny thrust open the mirrored cabinet as I repeated my questions.

“I’m on medication now, that’s what!” She pulled out orange bottle after orange bottle and started reading the names. “What if these are killing the baby?”

“That’s why you woke me up at three in the morning?” At that she threw a pill bottle at my head. I ducked and when I stood, I tried a different tactic: “There’s nothing we can do about it now, Lennox. Get some sleep, that’s the best thing you can do for the baby. We have an appointment tomorrow morning.”

Hands gripping the marble, she stared into the mouth of the sink. “It’s not even born yet and I’m already fucking up.” I went and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back to bed. Lenny wasn’t fucking up, and I could spend the entire night telling her how good she’d been doing, but the best thing for her and the baby was sleep. I settled her into my body and with the skin of her neck against my lips, nodded off again.

It didn’t even feel like minutes later that she was waking me up again.

“Vic…” Poke. “Vic…” Poke… “Vic…” I groaned and rolled over in bed. Once again I wouldn’t be sleeping that night. I’d trained for months, with the military and with GEM, to work under sleep deprivation. I’d become a hardened sentry, impervious to fatigue. Who would have guessed my training was really preparing me for Lenny?

“What’s up?” I mumbled.

“I think maybe we should break up.”

“Why?” I lifted my head onto my arm. Lenny was alr

eady sitting up in bed, cross-legged, and staring at the wall.

“I’m no good for you Vic.” Even though I couldn’t see it in the dark, I knew what her face looked like. It was the determined stare she got when she was sure she was doing something for my own good. It was the twisted grimace she got when she felt she was worthless. It was the hardened brow she had when she felt she had to leave to make my life better.

“What is good for me, then?” I probed.

“I don’t know…” Lenny sighed, wringing her hands. “Some nice girl who will treat you right and not burden you with all my shit.” She gestured to her rounding belly and then to her head.

I laughed, actually laughed. I didn’t used to laugh, not before Lenny. There wasn’t much I found funny. Lenny, though, she was hysterical. She had her wit, but even when she wasn’t trying to be funny she made me laugh. Like right then, she thought I’d be good with some ‘nice girl’?

“Lennox Moore.” I dragged her from her position and into my side. “If you think there is anyone out there better suited for me than you, well…” I kissed her neck, trying to get her to see my side. She sighed as I placed another kiss on her collarbone. When I snaked my arm around her rounding tummy and moved to embrace her mouth, her eyes had already closed.

“Well you are definitely pregnant,” the doctor said with a smile on his face. Lenny and I frowned; neither of us were amused.

“And what about the medication?” Lenny pressed.

“In an ideal situation you wouldn’t be on any medication,” he said, shrugging. “Most pregnancies aren’t ideal.”

“Get to the fucking point,” I growled. Lennox dug her nails into my forearm, signaling me to cut my shit, no doubt. I didn’t care. I didn’t need a runaround from Patch Adams. Was the baby going to be okay, or wasn’t it?

The doctor, Dr. Roth, eyed me coolly before continuing. “Yes. We are fortunate enough that the medication is category B, meaning there have been some studies and they haven’t proven to be of any risk to the fetus. Obviously we’ll need to get you on vitamins. You shouldn’t have been drinking with this medication, but if you have, stop.”

“I haven’t been drinking.” Wide-eyed, Lenny looked from me then to the doctor. Could we hope? Was it time to start hoping? Had we finally done something right?

“Good. Well…” Dr. Roth spun away from us and back to his computer, as if he was actually looking something up. I was 99% sure the douche had been playing Minecraft for half of the appointment. He turned back to us and said, “Let’s make an appointment for a couple of weeks, unless you feel you need to see me sooner.”

Lenny dug her nails deeper into my skin. “Should I need to see you sooner? Do you think something will go wrong?”

The doctor laughed, and I felt like punching him in the nose. “No, everything should be fine.” Though neither of us said it, the feeling was in the air. Lenny and I were the personification of Murphy’s Law. We made him print out a list of anything that might go wrong.

Lenny looked over the list as we drove back: placental abruption, gestational diabetes, umbilical cord prolapse, blood clots…she read it all out and detailed the symptoms and prognosis. I prepared myself for each and every one.