Page 10 of Perfect Imperfections

“I’m very grateful to the zoo and Ms. Clark for her quick thinking and selfless act of jumping in after my daughter. She’s our hero and we’re very thankful for her.”

He glanced at Ellie, who was blushing furiously, her pale skin almost red. She tugged on her right ear as the reporters started firing question at her. The woman stumbled over her words, shrugging off everyone’s praise as she stated she was simply doing her job.

“I think Charlotte is the true brave one,” she said, shifting the focus off of her. “She was swimming like a champ to get to me.”

Charlotte beamed as all eyes and cameras turned toward her, soaking up the attention. “I tried as hard as I could, but my shoes were heavy and the water smells like poop!”

Everyone laughed, enamored with his daughter. He couldn’t blame them. She was something special. So was the woman who saved her, he was coming to realize. This odd woman who thought nothing of risking her life to jump in after a child she didn’t know. A woman who seemed to have hidden depths that tugged at him for some odd reason to get to know better. A woman whom he owed more than he could ever repay.

Because she’d saved his very life, the moment she saved his daughter.

CHAPTER 4

Ellie stumbled into her apartment, cold, smelly, and slightly wet. Her socks squished with each step because no matter how long one wore wet socks, they never seemed to dry. Her hair, once pulled back into a neat, tight French-braid, now hung stiff, the ends sticking out all over the place in a haphazard mess. The slight amount of eyeshadow and blush that she wore had smudged off long ago. Thank the makeup companies for waterproof mascara so she didn’t have raccoon eyes. Her clothes crackled as she moved into the tiny living room, dropping her keys in the bowl by the door.

She closed and locked her front door, checking three times, as was her routine. A ritual that always annoyed her mother, but since she lived on her own now, she didn’t cover it up. Her therapist said if her rituals didn’t harm her or interfere too severely with her daily activity, it was fine to continue them. The important thing was not letting the dark thoughts control her. If she needed to perform a repetitive motion to keep that at bay, so be it. Other people might not understand, but what they thought didn’t matter to her.

Yes, it does.

Okay, so it bothered her when people made comments or gave her those looks. The ones that said she was a few cans short of a six-pack. But in the long run, all that mattered was what she thought of herself and her ability to function. And she could. Function. She was doing great. Okay. Fine. She was doing fine. She might be a little lonely now and then, but who wasn’t? Cam was only a phone call away. Her bestie was great like that. And she had the animals at the zoo. Bingo and the other birds. So what if she didn’t have someone to greet her the moment she got home? A warm presence in her bed at night? She didn’t need a man to keep her company. That’s what dogs were for.

“Yeah, like I can afford a dog.”

Zookeeper was not a career one got into to hit it rich. After her internship, they had offered her barely more than minimum wage. When she was appointed head aviary keeper, she’d received a slight raise, but with her debts from school, rent, and basic amenities, she was barely breaking even these days. No. She hadn’t gotten into this field for the money. Ellie did it for the love of the animals. Those amazing creatures who needed someone to care for them, protect them, educate the public on their behalf. It was a job she loved, and it filled her with happiness. That was enough for now.

“Besides, who needs a dog when I have a whole zoo full of the greatest creatures on earth?” It was like having every pet you could ever want, and her apartment didn’t smell like poo.

A pungent, sour smell wafted up into her face. She curled her lips as the scent turned her stomach. Her apartment might not smell, but she sure did. “Ew.”

She sniffed her shirt, gagging at the stale smell of penguin feces. Normally, it wouldn’t bother her. She was used to the pungent smell being around her, but she wasn’t used to it being on her. A shower was needed, pronto. After the interviews—which thankfully hadn’t been too awful—Ellie spent over an hour filling out paperwork for security and emergency personal. Tammy was a good boss and let her leave her shift early, but in that time her clothing had dried. Stinky, stiff, and uncomfortable. She couldn’t wait to get out of it.

She was exhausted, smelly, and oddly hungry. A glance at the clock over her microwave revealed the reason for her grumbly tummy. It was two hours past lunch. Now for the real question, food first or shower?

The air conditioning in her apartment kicked on, the cool breeze wafting the aroma of sour animal waste up her nostrils. Shower. Definitely shower first. If she tried to eat now, she might get another whiff of herself and puke all over her food.

As she made her way to the bathroom, her cell’s ringtone chimed from her purse. Thankful she hadn’t been carrying the phone in her pocket during her shift that day—she really couldn’t have afforded a new phone if the poor thing had taken the icy plunge with her in the penguin pool—she reached into her bag, answering without glancing at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Eleanor, darling, I saw the news. Are you alright?”

Her mother. Of course, she’d be calling the moment Ellie needed some alone time to decompress. Guilt twisted inside her at the harsh thought. That wasn’t fair. Her mother loved her and if she saw the news report, she had to be worried.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘hi mom’ me, young lady. I’ve been sitting here with your father watching the news, worried sick. Why didn’t you call us?”

Because it literally just happened, and she’d been swamped with paperwork, followed by the need to get home and shower. She figured a call to her parents could wait a few hours. Silly her.

“I’m sorry, mom,” she apologized, taking the easier route with the woman who birthed her and could get frantic at the slightest breeze of wind heading her only daughter’s way. “I was wrapped up with filling stuff out for work and then I drove home to shower and change. You know I don’t use my cell in the car.”

“Yes, dear, and I’m very proud of your maturity.”

Not so much maturity as the innate fear of glancing at her phone and causing a seven-car pile-up, resulting in mass casualties. Sometimes her paranoid brain was good for things like keeping herself and others safe.

“Are you home now or back at the zoo?”

“Home.”

---