Full Circle (Rockin' Country #3) (12 page)

“Shell took her back to the bus. She looks like shit, man, and she’s still puking.”

There was a small inkling in his stomach that maybe this could be what they had both hoped so hard for, but he was scared to get too excited. It was also very possible that given the way they had been eating lately, she’d gotten food poisoning or something of that sort.

“Alright, that’s where I’m headed then. I wanna check on her.”

He indicated to the guys he was going to shower on the bus and he’d be there when they were ready to go. Walking out of the backdoors, he saw groups of fans still congregating.

“Reaper! Oh my God, Reaper!” they screamed.

He groaned under his breath, but put his sunglasses back on and dutifully posed for more pictures than he wanted to. His wife was the most important thing in his life, and he was beyond nervous about what was going on with her. These people also paid his bills and professed their love for him, no matter what he did, and he knew they also deserved his time.

It was almost an hour later when he’d finally dealt with the crush of people and made his way back onto the bus. He wasn’t greeted by Havock like normal, so he figured the dog was with his other owner.

“Hey.” Shell smiled over at him from where she sat at the booth, doing school work

“Hey, thanks for coming back with her. How is she?”

Shell took off the glasses she sometimes wore when she had eye strain. “She looks like shit, to be completely honest with you. Tomorrow, I think we need to find a hospital and get her checked out.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’ve never seen someone throw up the way she has the past few days. It’s starting to worry me.” He ran his hand through his hair that was still wet with sweat. “Is Havock with her?”

“Hasn’t left her side. That dog is as loyal as you,” she joked.

“That’s why he’s my boy. I know if I can’t be around, then he will be.”

He reached into the fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite, as well as some peanut butter and crackers from the pantry. “See ya.”

She waved at him, watching as he went back to spend time with Hannah. Shell hoped like hell he could convince his wife it was time to take her symptoms seriously.

*     *     *

Garrett quietly let himself into the room, smiling when Havock’s head lifted. He was lying on the bed next to Hannah. “Hey boy, I got it, if you wanna go see other people,” he told him, patting his thigh.

Havock got up and stretched, looking between the two of them. It was almost as if he were a human contemplating if he wanted to leave Hannah alone. In the end, it looked like he trusted his master, and he got off the bed, his tags jingling in the stillness of the room. He whined, pulling against Garrett’s hand for a pat on the head. Obliging the dog, Garrett walked him over to the door and ushered him out.

Turning back to Hannah, he took in the scene she made. She was curled into the fetal position on her side. She was pale, much paler than he’d ever seen her besides the episode of appendicitis. Dark circles were prevalent underneath her eyes, and she had her hands clasped over her stomach. He lay down beside her, trying his best not to disturb her.

“Babe.” He quietly touched her arm.

She woke slowly, licking her dry lips. “Hey.” She did her best to smile for him. “Is the show already over?”

“It is,” he confirmed, running a hand along her cheek and to the back of her neck, cupping it against his palm. “Got done about an hour ago.”

“I didn’t get to sing with you.” She pouted. They tried to sing together whenever they could.

“You’re sick, babe. You need to take care of yourself. I’m getting worried about you.”

Those were the same words she’d heard from Shell, but hearing them from him hit her harder. His voice was soft, and he wasn’t demanding anything, he was truly concerned. “If I’m not better today, I’ll call the doctor and see what I need to do,” she relented.

“Which doctor?” he asked, wanting to make sure they were on the same page here.

“Dr. Simpson. I think I may be pregnant,” she admitted. “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve never been this sick or tired before, and those are some of the first symptoms of pregnancy—or so I’ve read on the internet. I don’t think we can count the no period as one, considering I had the birth control in for so long.” She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the back of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to find a hospital tonight?” he asked her, noticing that her breathing was more labored than it had been earlier in the day.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

Opening the can of Sprite, he held it up to her lips. “Let’s try to get something in you to at least settle your stomach. You’re clammy and your hands are shaking.”

“Don’t boss me,” she mumbled.

“Then do as your told.” He gave her a pointed look.

All was going well until fifteen minutes after she’d taken her first sip of Sprite and her first bite of a cracker. It came up with a vengeance, only allowing her seconds to get to the bathroom before she lost everything she had in her stomach.

She knew that the first call she would be making in the morning was to the doctor, because she wasn’t sure how much more she could take of this.

*  *  *

I
t had been a long night for everyone on the bus. They’d all wanted to call the doctor’s after-hours number, but Hannah had insisted she was not a special case and didn’t need to be treated as such. She wanted to be normal. At one point, Garrett had actually raised his voice to her and then felt awful when silent tears streaked down her face as she made another run for the bathroom.

“It’s eight in Nashville, Han. Call.” Shell handed Hannah the phone and watched as she dialed with shaky hands.

“I think maybe I should have called last night,” she croaked out, her throat sore and scratchy from the abuse it had taken.

“I know that, but I also know you have to come to your own conclusions. Just don’t let Garrett hear you say that. He might kill you; I thought he was going to last night.”

Hannah didn’t acknowledge what her friend said as she listened to the options and pressed the appropriate numbers. When the receptionist answered, she wanted to cry again.

“Hi, Tracy, this is Hannah Thompson.”

“Oh hey, Hannah, how’s it going?” The receptionist popped her gum in Hannah’s ear. They had gone to high school together, and the woman never got in a huge hurry for anything.

“Not great.” She put some urgency into her voice. “I’ve been puking for going on two days straight.”

“Oh honey, let me ask you a few questions and then get you to the doctor,” she told her.

On the other end, Hannah could hear some papers shuffling around and wanted to scream at her to hurry up, but she knew the other woman was only doing her job.

“Okay, the notes on your chart say that you were going to try to conceive. Did you do that?”

“Yes.” Hannah nodded out of habit. “I took the ovulation test that Dr. Simpson gave me.” It went without saying she’d gotten naked with her husband.

“So that would have been about five weeks ago. Have you had any bleeding?”

“None.”

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

“I did, but I couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative.”

Tracy made notes in her chart. “That’s not unusual. Let me go get Dr. Simpson, and he’ll be right with you.”

Great, she was finally getting somewhere and would hopefully get some answers on how she could feel better. While she waited, she doodled on a piece of paper in front of her. Miracle of all miracles, her stomach was okay for the moment. Taking a deep breath, she put her head down on the table, just wanting to sleep. She was so tired. As her eyes slipped closed, a man’s voice came over the phone.

“Hannah, this is Dr. Simpson.”

“Hi,” she greeted him, licking her dry lips.

“Tracy told me what’s going on. Where exactly are you?”

She glanced to Shell for help. “Where are we?”

Shell quickly pulled up the guys’ itinerary and saw that they were going to be in Florida for the night. “Tell him we’re 100 miles from Daytona.”

“I heard her. I have a colleague down there that I trust. I’m going to send you to him, and I want you to listen to what he tells you, Hannah. Vomiting is no joke when you’re possibly pregnant or even when you are pregnant if it gets out of hand. It could be bad for both you and the baby.”

Taking down the information, she passed it over to Shell who immediately began Google Mapping the place.

“Call me and set up a follow-up appointment after you see him.”

“Will do.” She hung up and laid her head down on the table. “How long until we get there?”

“A little over an hour. You want me to go wake Garrett up and tell him what’s going on? You can just lie here and try to keep the room from spinning.”

Hannah nodded, never so grateful to have her friend with her.

*     *     *

“This simple blood test will let us know if you’re pregnant. If you are, we’ll do an ultrasound to see how far along you are. Either way,” the new doctor, Dr. Willis, was telling her, “we’re going to get some fluids in you. Your heart rate is elevated, and you’re looking a little gray.”

She nodded, gripping Garrett’s hand in hers. “Anything to make me feel better.” She moaned; the room still spun and she still felt queasy.

“Let me get the nurse to put an anti-nausea drip in with it. We’ll get you fixed up, Hannah, I promise.” He patted her on the leg as he walked out of the room to get what he needed.

“You have to go soon,” she told Garrett as he had a seat next to her.

“The fuck I do, I’m not leaving you.” Was she insane? They were about to find out if they were having a child, and she was worried about what his schedule looked like. “We can cancel if we have to.”

“No.” She shook her head. “If this is a baby,” and she hoped that it was, “I’m probably going to be sick more than once. We’ll have to learn how to deal.”

He didn’t like that, at all. “Learn how to deal? Babe, this is your life and possibly the life of a child. I don’t like you making light of this. This is serious.”

“I know.” She blew out a deep breath. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to make some sort of decision between me and the stage. If you have to go, I’ll be here when you get done.”

He was about to lay into her again when the door opened and the doctor and nurse walked in. “Well, Garrett and Hannah. Congratulations, you’re going to be parents.”

Everything else that he said faded into the background as they stared at one another, neither one of them able to believe it had actually happened the way they wanted it to.

“We’re going to do an internal ultrasound to figure out how far along you are, but after reviewing your chart that Dr. Simpson sent, I’m gonna take a stab at five weeks.”

They sat there for an hour while she drained bags of fluid, along with anti-nausea medication. She underwent the internal ultrasound and confirmed that she was five weeks along. The due date was thought to be early January. It was getting closer and closer to time when Garrett was going to have to leave when the doctor came back in.