CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Rose

 

Now…

 

Staring at the sparkling silver bracelet around her wrist, Rose sat in the waiting room of the small clinic lost in thought. For the millionth time she thought of the events leading up to Vincent’s departure. For a long time she’d been angry at herself for having let Ben hug her, knowing how angry that would make Vincent. She was certain that had something to do with Vincent going to see Anita the night she told him. Maybe he was trying to get back at her—upset her the way she’d upset him, and then something went horribly wrong.

That infamous hug—she’d replayed it so many times in her head—had it really led to all this? It had been so quick and natural, and Ben had hugged everyone. It would’ve been awkward to be the only one to balk at it, so it just felt easier to do so quickly and get it over with. Of course he’d been his same flirtatious self, asking immediately even in front of Candace if Rose was free to make out or what? As usual he’d been playing, but she still made sure to explain she absolutely wasn’t and that she and Vincent were, in fact, still very much together.

Rose hadn’t even returned any of Ben’s texts or calls for over a month after Vince had left. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to him, blaming him and everyone else for her misery. But after running into him more and more at the university, his company and friendship had ironically come as sort of a comfort. Both Candace and Alison had gone upstate to school, returning only occasionally like they had the night of the bonfire. Rose didn’t see them often, and she had no desire to make new friends, so when Ben began to buddy up with her again, especially after finding out they had a few classes together that second semester, she didn’t protest.

Ben was still the same guy he’d always been. In between all the flirting and teasing, she was reminded why she’d always been fond of him in high school. It wasn’t just because he was so good looking and he’d done wonders to her ego by flirting so outrageously with her, but because he was actually a really sweet guy. As much as she’d tried to keep what she told him about Vincent to a minimum, she’d finally broken down and cried like a baby, telling him about the whole thing.

As obnoxious as he could be, sometimes he could also be very serious when she needed him to be. He’d been extremely sympathetic and encouraged her to read Vincent’s letters. She’d read the first few where he didn’t bother to explain what had compelled him to do such a thing: something so damning after he’d promised her time and time again that he’d changed his ways and that he’d done so for her. Only in one of the first letters had he even addressed the subject of Anita.

 

I need you to know there is NOTHING going on between me and Anita. You’ve always been and continue to be the only one for me. Please believe that.

 

She did believe that much. This wasn’t even about that. Even when Grace first mentioned that he’d been in her room and she’d called him her boyfriend, Rose knew it couldn’t be true. She couldn’t explain it, but something in her heart told her just like she’d never do that to him, he’d never do that to her either. But what really made her break down was when she read “four years.”

She knew it would be a while before he came back but four years? It was devastating. The second letter wasn’t any better. He was sorry, and he’d make it up to her—again no explanation as to why. More time passed, and with every letter she received that said nothing more than he was sorry again and again, she wanted to scream, “Why?” How could he be so stupid? And why didn’t he fight harder to try and stay? He’d just given into it. There must’ve been something he was very guilty of if he agreed to leave so easily. He knew how upsetting just being away from him for a month had been for her, and he did nothing to try to stop this from happening. All he said was that he couldn’t…because of Anita.

As the months passed, she stopped reading the letters. It actually hurt each time a new one came, opening up all the old wounds she wanted so desperately to heal. She didn’t even bother opening them, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away so she stashed them in her bottom drawer—still sealed. She’d never once considered writing back. What would she say? “Okay…you’re sorry. Now what? I’m supposed to just forgive, forget, and wait four impossibly long years to be with you again?” Even then, how would she have any guarantees that he wouldn’t fall into the temptation of his old self again? The very thought obliterated her heart and at the same time made her so angry she couldn’t bring herself to read even one more word from him.

The only thing that kept her from hating him were the words she’d never forget when she’d questioned even for a moment his faithfulness. He’d been so adamant, and as always his words were so full of sincerity.

 

I love you and only you. There’s no one else—never will be. Remember that always.

 

There were times however that she wished she could forget those very words. Like the day of Sal’s dad’s birthday gathering where she’d been forced to speak of her charade of a relationship in front of Lorenzo. He’d looked right at her, his expression so reminiscent of Vincent’s. For a second she’d actually felt guilty. But it was only for a weak moment. Why should she feel guilty? Even if her relationship with Ben were real, Vincent did this—not her. He’d ruined everything over stupid drugs.

“Ms. Zendejas?” Rose looked up at the nurse holding open the door to the doctor’s office. “The doctor will see you now.”

Grabbing her purse and the book she hadn’t read a single page of, Rose stood up and followed the nurse back into the office at the end of the hall. Her heart thumped as the nerves began to mount.

Ben had offered to come with her. He was the only one Rose had told so far. It was at his urgency that she’d made the appointment to see a doctor in the first place. After telling the doctor about the symptoms she’d been having, the dizzy spells, shaky hands, tingling fingers and feet, the doctor ordered blood work. They’d told her it would be at least six business days before they had the results, but it had only been four when they called her to tell her the doctor wanted to go over the results with her. Alarming didn’t even begin to describe the dread she’d felt after getting that phone call.

She’d wanted something to finally take the place of the one thing that always took front and center in her train of thought, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

“Just take a seat and the doctor will be right in to see you.”

Rose smiled and took a seat in front of the doctor’s big mahogany desk. The nurse closed the door leaving Rose clutching her book and taking in all the photos and plaques on the walls. Of course her eyes zeroed in on a photo of a few soldiers posing in their Army fatigues. Was there no end to the things that reminded her of Vincent? Then she saw the other photo. This was a portrait of what appeared to be one of the guys in that same first photo. He was in full dress looking very serious. The frame was lavish and the words carved just beneath the photo read:

 

Officer James Michaels–Beloved son, brother and our fallen hero. You will never be forgotten.

 

His date of birth and year he passed were just underneath the engraving. Doing the math quickly in her head, she figured out his age at the time of death, nineteen—Vince’s age. The lump in Rose’s throat was immediate. Dr. Michaels had lost his son in combat. As if things hadn’t been hard enough this past year, Rose had walked in on Grace and Sal a few weeks ago at the restaurant talking about Vincent being deployed to Iraq.

It’d been months since Rose had last asked Sal anything about Vince, so she’d been completely overwhelmed by the news. She’d already lost him once; she didn’t even want to think of something happening to him out there. Seeing Dr. Michael’s son’s photo made that possibility seem all too real now. And to think all of this could’ve been avoided if he just hadn’t weakened and gone back to his evil ways. If Vince truly loved Rose like he claimed, why the hell would he give into what he once called easy money?

Just as she’d begun once again to ponder obsessively about why, why, why like she’d done so many times already, there was a soft knock on the door. It opened, and Dr. Michaels walked in. After greeting her he took the seat behind his desk as Rose studied his somber facial expression closely. Was this bad news or horrible news? Was she dying?

He opened her file but said nothing. Rose took note of every change in his expression, the way his fingers tapped his temple, the eyebrow that lifted ever so slightly, even the way he circled things in her file.

Rose couldn’t help wondering if she’d inadvertently made herself sick like Grace had when she’d broken up with Sal. Though in the end Grace’s dizziness had turned out to have perfectly good reason, the doctors had said her rapid weight loss had most likely been due to stress.

Finally Dr. Michaels looked up, and there it was—the unmistakable look of concern. “Has your low red-blood-cell count ever been brought to your attention?”

Rose shook her head. “No, never.”

“Hmm,” he glanced back down at the file. “It’s very low. Are you a vegetarian?”

“No. I’m Mexican.” The second she realized what she just said, she felt ridiculous, and her face heated instantly. “I mean we eat a lot of meat.” The doctor’s eyes were suddenly full of humor, making her feel even lamer. “I work in a restaurant, so I’m often eating.” God, Rose just shut up!

Determined not to make any more idiotic declarations, Rose focused instead on his question. She did eat meat—lots of it. Though she had to admit her appetite had been at an all-time low ever since Vincent left.

Looking back down at her file, the humor had all but wiped off the doctor’s face. He removed his glasses and focused on her again. “Have you ever had any type of stomach surgery?”

“No.” Rose was getting worried. He still wasn’t telling her much. “Is this really bad?”

“Well, it could be.” He admitted without hesitation. “I’ll give it to you straight because when it’s something this serious, I wanna make sure we’re on the same page. Your body needs Vitamin B12 to produce red blood cells. Normally you get this vitamin from eating foods like meat and poultry, anything with lots of protein and high in Vitamin B12. According to these results your body is severely deficient of the vitamin. If you are, in fact, eating enough meat and protein, this tells me one thing. Your stomach is not absorbing the vitamin.” He sat up a little straighter, and held his hand out. “Let me see your hand.”

Rose lifted her hand to him. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was scaring the hell out of her, or if it was the usual shakes she’d been having, but her hand shook more than usual now.

Dr. Michaels frowned. “Symptoms like this and what you described as tingling of your feet and fingers don’t even show up until it’s so bad that Vitamin-B12 supplements aren’t going to be enough. And the dizziness worried me because that could only mean you’re real low on red blood cells. Seeing these results only confirmed it. How long did you say you’ve been feeling like this?”

“A few months.” The doctor frowned, shaking his head then went back to consult her lab results again. Rose tried to be strong. She wouldn’t cry, not about this, too. She’d done enough crying in the past few months to last her a lifetime. She only wished now she’d taken Ben up on his offer to come with her. “So what does this mean? Can…can it be fixed?”

For the first time since he’d walked in, his expression eased up a bit. “We’ll have to be aggressive. I don’t like these numbers at all.”

After giving her a shot of B12, he explained the condition was too far gone for B12 supplements. She needed bi-weekly injections. “You can come in twice weekly.” She didn’t have time to do that. Neither did she think she could pull it off without Grace getting suspicious, and she’d already decided she wasn’t telling her. “Or I can prescribe the injections, but you’ll have to make sure you do it twice a week. It’s not that difficult.”

“I’ll do that,” she said quickly then shrugged. “There’s a YouTube video for everything. I’ll look one up.”

The doctor eyed her then began writing out the prescription. “I want you back here in a month. I need to see if twice a week is enough. But I want you to understand the seriousness of this, young lady. You can’t miss even one injection.” She nodded wide-eyed, hoping that would assure him she understood. “It’s my hope that after a month, we can bring the dose down, not up, but I’ll be honest with you. You’ll need to get used to this. You’ll probably need the injections for good. We can’t allow these numbers to get this low again. The consequences can be very adverse. The only reason I’m not more worried is because you’re so young.”

Rose made another trip to the lab. The doctor said he was almost one hundred percent certain what she had was pernicious anemia, but he wanted to rule a few other things out, so he had them do more blood work.

As she sat there unable to even look at the blood being drawn, she thought about the doctor’s last words of advice. “And don’t stress. That only makes things worse.”

Great.