“I’ll bet she misses you, fella,” he said softly as he rubbed the elephant’s trunk.
She would be missing Sinjun even more. There had been a strange bond between Daisy and the tiger, one he’d never understood. She’d loved working with the animals no one else had the patience to pay attention to: the troublesome baby elephant, the shy gorilla, the old, regal tiger. It must be hard for her not being around any of the animals she loved.
At that moment everything inside him went still. His skin crawled with gooseflesh, and he forgot to breathe. What made him think she wasn’t with one of those animals?
Twenty-four hours later he stood by the railing in the Tropical World compound at Chicago’s Brookfield Zoo and stared at Glenna, who was sitting on the rocky mountain in the center, munching on a stalk of celery. He’d been wandering the sloped walkways that surrounded the spacious indoor habitat for hours. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep his head ached, and acid burned a hole in his stomach.
What if he was wrong? What if she didn’t come here at all? He’d been to the zoo’s employment office, and he already knew she didn’t work here. But he was sure she would want to be close to Glenna. Besides, there wasn’t anyplace left for him to look.
Fool. The word pounded through his head like the noise of a stake driver. Fool. Fool. Fool. Fool.
His grief was too private to be put on exhibition, and as he heard the babble of another group of school children, he moved up the curving pathway, which was bordered by tropical vegetation and a railing of iron pipe painted green like bamboo and lashed together with rope. At the top, he found a more deserted location. Glenna tugged on one of the heavy rope hanging in the man-made tree trunks that stood at the summit of the gorilla mountain and came around to his side. She looked healthy and contented in her new home. She settled back down, this time with a carrot.
Suddenly her head came up and she began making smacking sounds with her lips. He followed the direction of her eyes and saw Daisy approaching the rail below and gazing at the gorilla.
His heart slammed against his ribs, and joy flooded him, followed almost instantly by distress. Even from fifteen yards away he could see that she wore no makeup, and lines of fatigue were etched in her face. Her hair was restrained with a clip at the nape of her neck, and for the first time since he’d known her she looked almost plain. Where was the Daisy who loved to primp and fuss with her perfumes and powder? The Daisy who took such joy in dabbing herself with apricot-scented lotion and raspberry red lipstick? Where was the Daisy who used up all the hot water taking her showers and left a sticky film of hair spray on the bathroom door? Dry-mouthed, he drank in the sight of her, and something broke apart inside him. This was Daisy as he’d made her.
This was Daisy with her love light extinguished.
As he moved closer, he spotted new hollows under her cheekbones and realized that she’d lost weight. His gaze flew to her waist, but the loose jacket she wore over a pair of dark slacks kept him from seeing if there were any changes in her body. Fear shot through him. What if she’d lost their baby? Was that going to be his punishment?
She was intent on her silent communion with the gorilla and didn’t see him as he moved around the children and came up behind her. He spoke softly. “Daisy.”
She stiffened and then turned. Her face grew even paler, and her hands twitched in an involuntary spasm. She looked as if she were getting ready to flee, and he took a quick step forward to stop her, but the coldness in her expression halted him in his tracks. The only other time he could remember seeing eyes so empty was when he’d looked into a mirror.
“We have to talk.” His words unconsciously echoed the ones she’d spoken to him so many times, and her stony expression as she gazed back at him must be a reflection of the way he’d frequently regarded her.
Who was this woman? Her face bore none of the animation he was used to. Those violet eyes were so lifeless they didn’t look as if they ever cried. It was as if something inside her had died, and he began to sweat. Had she lost their baby? Was that responsible for the change in her? Not their baby. Please.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She turned and walked away, heading back through the rope curtain that served as the entrance to the habitat. He followed her outside and without thinking, grabbed her arm.
“Let me go.”
How many times had she said that to him as he’d dragged her across a lot or pulled her out of bed at dawn? But this time she spoke the words without any of her former passion. He gazed down into her pale, closed face. What have I done to
you, my love?
“I just want to talk,” he said brusquely, steering her off to the side and away from the crowd.
She glanced at his hand, still encircling her arm. “If you’re planning to carry me off to have an abortion, it’s too late.”
He wanted to throw back his head and howl. She’d lost the baby, and it was his fault.
He dropped his hand, and he could barely force out the word. “You’ll never know how sorry I am about that.”
“Oh, I know,” she said with an eerie calm. “You made that very clear.”
“I didn’t make anything clear. I never told you I loved you. I said hateful things to you, things I didn’t mean.” His arms ached to gather her close, but she had erected an invisible barrier around herself. “All that’s behind us now, sweetheart. We’re going to start over. I promise I’ll make everything up to you.”
“I have to go. I have to be at work soon.”
It was as if he hadn’t spoken. He’d told her he loved her, but it hadn’t made any difference. She intended to walk away and never see him again.
His resolve hardened. He couldn’t let that happen. He would deal with his grief later. For now, he would do whatever he needed to to get his wife back.
“You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not. I have a job.”