by Linda Grimes
“Yeah. I’m precocious! Isn’t it cool?”
Billy stood and blocked her from the view of a group of passing tourists. “That’s enough, Moll. Change them back—and no more showing off in public places. Remember our talk?”
She closed her eyes demurely, and when she opened them they were blue again. “Sorry,” she said, looking anything but.
“She says she only noticed after we were down here, but I have my doubts.”
“You know Mom wouldn’t have let me come if she knew. She’d make me stay inside, and I’d never get to see my friends or go anyplace or do anything! It’s going to be awful enough when I have to tell her. I just wanted one little vacation before my prison sentence starts.” Molly looked so glum you’d have thought she was headed off to solitary confinement for a year.
“Cry me a river, Paris Hilton.” Billy laid the sarcasm on with a trowel, but I could tell he was proud of her. Whether for her accomplishment or for bending the rules so she wouldn’t get her trip yanked out from under her was harder to say. He wasn’t much of one for following rules.
“Come on, Molls,” I said. “It’s not that bad. In a few months you’ll have enough control, and your mom will let you off the leash. We all go through it.”
“I can control it now,” she said, determination molding her features.
Just like her brother, I thought. Poor Auntie Mo was in for it.
“Come on—let’s go to the Think Tank. I want to be a primatologist,” she said, grabbing her brother’s hand and pulling. The Think Tank was an open laboratory at the zoo where the public was invited to watch dedicated professionals teach primates language symbols to test their higher reasoning skills.
Billy held her back. “You can control it, huh? Is that why you’re sprouting a five o’clock shadow?” He kept his voice low enough that only Molly and I could hear him.
Her hands flew to her chin, which was suddenly looking a bit bristly. “Huh? How’d that happen?”
Alarmed, I took the spot on the other side of her, helping Billy block her from the meandering public.
“Concentrate, sis.” He paused while Molly squinted. “There, that’s right. It’s gone.” He rubbed his chin and grinned. “Guess I should’ve shaved this morning. Just to be on the safe side, maybe you better not touch anyone until we’re back at Ciel’s, okay?”
Molly’s wholehearted pride in her new ability was shaken, and she looked like she could use a hug. I didn’t dare give her one, though. No telling which of my features she might randomly project. If my strawberry blond hair appeared abruptly on her head, folks might notice.
“Maybe we better head back to my place,” I suggested, and watched her face fall into gloomy resignation. I hated to disappoint her, but it wasn’t worth the risk of discovery. Besides, it was sweltering, and it was a long trudge to the apes.
Billy put the kibosh on that right away. “Forget it. She’ll be fine. Right, kiddo?”
Molly’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, Billy. You’re the best,” she said, and took off at a clip altogether too fast for the heat.
I slugged Billy’s arm as I scrambled to keep up. “Yeah, Billy. You’re the best.”
Laughing, he took my gooshy cone and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Buck up, cuz. If you get too hot, I’m sure I can figure out some way to cool you off. Maybe we can take a cold shower when we get back to your place.”
“We?”
“Always willing to lend a helping hand. I keep telling you, I’m wonderful with a loofah.”
Chapter 3
Orangutans have the sweetest eyes. Only not so much when you see them peering at you from the face of a ten-year-old girl.
“Molly,” I whispered beneath a cough, widening my own eyes, trying to convey the message to her without attracting unwelcome attention.
She cocked her head and her nose flattened. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the baby orang she’d just handed a grape to, brushing its gingery fur with her hand in passing. Billy caught wind of what was happening when he glanced indulgently at his baby sister. He’d been charming the pleasantly plump, totally smitten research assistant so Molly and I could sneak closer to the apes (a total no-no, but since when had that ever stopped a Doyle?). The look of alarm that came over his face was almost, but not quite, worth the panic I was feeling.
Pushing Molly ahead of me, and keeping my body between her and the others, I called back over my shoulder, “Um, Molly is feeling a bit queasy—must’ve been all that popcorn and soda. We’ll just run to the ladies’ room.”
Behind me, I heard Billy assuring the assistant that his sister would be quite all right, and then distracting her with some inane question about the mating habits of primates. As the door to the Think Tank shut behind me, Molly shrank and sprouted coppery hair all over her body.
And that wasn’t supposed to be possible.
I picked her up and ran, my mind somersaulting through how-the-hells and WTFs. The first restroom we came to was blessedly free of occupants. The entrance was made of glass, though, so I took cover in the nearest stall, latching the door behind me. I sat on the toilet and turned Molly to face me. Rich, dark-chocolate eyes full of the ancient wisdom of the forest stared up at me. She drew back her lips, showing me nubbly little baby teeth.
“Molly?” I said, keeping my voice low. “You have to change back. Now would be good.”
She whimpered.
“Seriously, Molly. Right now.”
She raised both hands and shrugged.
“Oh, my God. You can’t, can you? Can you even understand me?”
“Ciel? Are you in there?” Billy’s voice was followed by a pounding on the door.
“Yeah, we’re here,” I hollered back.
The door opened. “Are you alone?”
“I think so. For the time being.” I stood, moving Molly to my hip, and peeked out from the stall.
Billy quickly searched the other stalls before taking Molly from me. He held her away from him, examining her from top to bottom, and looked at me, eyebrows propping up his hairline.
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know how it happened—she barely touched the thing.”
“But we can’t … no one’s ever been able to … I mean, what the hell?” He gave the baby ape a small shake. “Molly, change back. Now.” He spoke firmly, sounding just like his dad. When Uncle Liam used that tone of voice, nobody disobeyed.
“I already tried that. I don’t think she can.”
“Molly, I said now.”
She whimpered, stretching her long arms back toward me.
“You’ve scared her.” I took her and felt her arms go up around my neck. “It’s okay, Moll. We’ll figure this out. You just relax.”
“Well, she better relax fast and change back into something resembling a human being, or we’re going to have a hell of a time getting her out of the zoo. I imagine ape-napping is frowned upon.”
A babble of feminine voices interrupted us. Billy pushed me back into the stall and followed, shutting the door just as the women entered. I fell backward onto the toilet with an oomph, accidentally squeezing a squeak out of Molly. The voices stopped. Billy bent over us, shielding Molly from view with his shoulders. I leaned to one side and saw an eyeball appear in the crack between the door and the stall.
The eyeball narrowed as it directed a laser beam of disapproval at me. “Ladies,” the woman attached to the eye said in a voice that bounced off the restroom walls like ice cubes against a glass, “this is not a good place for a rest stop. Apparently, some people think it appropriate to conduct business transactions in public restrooms. Surely there’s some authority nearby we can appeal to.”
A whole parade of eyeballs marched by, each more scandalized than the last, as Billy looked at the ceiling and shook his head. “Stay right here,” he said, and left, hot on the heels of the morals vigilantes. Huh. Like I was going anywhere with a baby orangutan dressed like a tween.
“Ladies,” he said, turning on the
Doyle charm full blast. “This isn’t what you think. My wife had to rush in here with our little girl, who started feeling terribly ill after eating one of the hot dogs at the snack bar. Now, I’m not saying it’s food poisoning. But, really, who knows for sure? More likely just too much excitement, and maybe the heat. Anyway, I couldn’t just let her handle a puking child on her own, could I? She has a sensitive stomach herself—”
I took the cue and began making retching sounds. Molly got a little agitated and started contributing. “Ooooo! Oooo! Aa-aa-aaa!” I patted her back and retched some more, upping the volume.
“I know I shouldn’t have come into the ladies’ room, but since there was no one else here, I thought—” Billy continued, louder himself.
“Oh, you poor man!” The woman’s voice thawed considerably. “Maybe I can help. I’m a retired nurse.”
“No!” Billy said. “No, I’m sure they’ll be all right in just a minute.”
I stopped fake heaving. “Molly’s feeling better, er, honey. I’m okay, too!”
“Well, if you’re quite sure—” the ex-nurse said.
“Oh, quite,” Billy said. “I’ll just get them some damp paper towels. We’ll be leaving soon.”
I peeked as he herded the women from the room. “Can you lock that?”
“Not without the key. Do you have a pen in your bag?” He didn’t wait for my answer, but dug right into the handsome leather bag I was carrying for my job. With the marker he found, and a paper towel from the dispenser by the sink, he devised an “Out of Order” sign that he stuck to the outside of the door with a hastily chewed piece of gum, also from my bag.
“My, how MacGyver of you,” I said. “But what do we do when the maintenance man shows up?”
“I hope we’ll be long gone by then.”
“And how are we going to leave with a baby ape?”
He looked at Molly, who was blissfully playing with her toes, showing no sign of changing back to herself. He shrugged and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Mark? I need a favor.”
*
Mark Fielding, the CIA agent who had fueled my girlish fantasies, was at the door to the restroom half an hour later, looking even better than the last time I saw him. Tall, blond, and chiseled, he never failed to make my hormones do a flip-flop. I felt like one of Pavlov’s dogs when he was around. If my recent inexplicable attraction to Billy surprised me, my response to Mark’s presence didn’t—he’d been ringing my bell since I was thirteen years old. I had hoped my lustful feelings toward Mark would tone down when they started ramping up toward Billy, but apparently that would be too simple for my life.
Mark sized up the situation with a single glance around the room, zeroing in on Molly. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” he said, as close to shocked as I’d ever seen him. Billy had warned him over the phone that Molly wasn’t quite herself, but hadn’t elaborated.
I assumed the question was directed at me. Those kind of questions usually were. “I didn’t do anything, I swear. It just … happened.”
Billy nodded his confirmation, his eyes lacking their usual teasing glint.
Mark asked no further questions. “Wait here,” he said, and left.
He returned in less than a minute with a baby stroller, the folding kind equipped with a nice big sunshade. When I asked how he’d come by one so fast, he just shrugged and said there were plenty of them parked outside the Great Ape House, and that it might be a good idea if we hustled our butts. He and Billy guarded the door while I buckled Molly in and told her to keep quiet.
“Do you think she understands you?” Mark said as I adjusted the shade to provide maximum coverage. He hadn’t commented much on the odd state of affairs, but I knew his brain had to be spinning. Adaptors were only able to project human auras. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be.
I shrugged. “Beats me. I’m going to assume Molly is still Molly on the inside, just like with a regular adaption.”
Billy grabbed his makeshift sign off the door and tossed it into the closest trash can. “Come on—let’s get out of here. We can figure out what to do after we’re back at Ciel’s.” He took charge of the stroller, maneuvering it through the foot traffic while Mark and I positioned ourselves on either side of him.
“Whoa, bud. Blend,” Mark said. I think his lips moved a tiny bit, but I wouldn’t swear to it.
Billy slowed, barely, but I still had to step double time to make my short legs keep up with their long ones. “Where are you parked?” he asked Mark.
“Veer off at the next left. There’s an employee lot back there. I borrowed a spot.”
Billy took the curve too fast and nearly plowed into a zoo employee. He pulled up just in time. A middle-aged woman wearing a red polo shirt with a zoo logo on it blocked our way with her hugely pregnant belly; there was no maneuvering around her. Billy stared, deer-caught-in-the-headlights fashion, while the woman leaned down to coo at Molly.
“Awww … a baby!”
Mark, bless him, tried to distract her with one of his rare smiles—they were killer when he chose to bestow them—but she wasn’t to be deflected. I’d seen women in the grip of baby fever before, and this one obviously had nothing else on her mind. She wanted a baby fix, and no mere man, however good-looking, was going to stand in her way. Leaning down as much as her tummy allowed, she peeked under the shade and smiled beatifically.
“She’s sleeping. How sweet. And look at that red hair!”
Huh? Why wasn’t she freaking out? I leaned over and looked with her. Molly, brilliant little Molly, had pulled the pink flannel baby blanket up over her face. Only a few tufts of orange fur stuck out on top.
“Do you mind if I…?” Ms. Zoo Employee stretched her pregnancy-puffed fingers toward the edge of the blanket.
Mark, Billy, and I all reached for her at the same time. I was the closest, and intercepted her hand before she could unwrap the surprise package. “Uh,” I said. “Better not. She, um, gets sunburned so easily. You know how it is with redheads.”
The woman gave me a patronizing look and squeezed my hand. “Your first? Don’t worry, honey, they’re tougher than you think. You don’t have to treat them with kid gloves.”
“I-I-uh, I know that. I just…” Just what? What? Think, Ciel.
She placed my hand on her belly and pressed down until something kicked me. I resisted the urge to yank it back as visions of that scene from Alien skittered through my head.
“There, honey, you feel that? That’s my fourth. He’ll be lucky if I remember to change his diapers and feed him, much less worry about a little sunburn. You better learn to relax if you want to survive motherhood.”
I nodded weakly, my eyes darting between Mark and Billy. Mark was calm, smiling at me indulgently and shrugging, playing the part of agreeing with the woman. Billy smiled, too, but it was strained, impatience undulating beneath the surface.
“Which one of you is the proud papa?”
The guys looked at me, waiting for my cue. My mouth opened but no words came out. Why did everything have to come down to a choice between Mark and Billy? Evidently I waited too long, because they both took it upon themselves to speak for me at the exact same time: “I am.”
My face flamed. Geez.
She gave me an appraising look, changing her previous assessment of me in the time it took her to purse her lips. “Like that, is it? Well, I have to say, it’s quite progressive of you all to handle it so civilly.” In other words, you slut.
“You don’t understand,” I hastened to explain. “I never … not with either of them. Really. I mean…” Oh, hell. What did I mean?
“She’s our surrogate,” Billy blurted when he saw her hand creeping back toward the blanket.
Mark’s eyes gave nothing away as he caught on and entered into the distraction by putting an arm around Billy’s shoulders and giving him an affectionate squeeze. “Yes, she carried our little girl for us. It’s an open adoption—we want her to remain part of our c
hild’s life.”
The woman dragged her eyes away from the stroller and looked from Mark to Billy, her eyes lighting with curiosity. “Oh, I see. Well, I think that’s just wonderful,” she said, beaming now that she knew I was a paragon of modern family values and not just sleeping with two hot guys. “Did you blend the semen before insemination so both fathers would feel equally invested?”
My mouth opened but no words came out.
“Don’t look so shocked, honey. It’s a common practice. Some people think it promotes better bonding with the infant. And I’m not just being nosy, either—I work at a zoo. I have a scientific interest in these things.”
Ack. How do you answer that kind of question? “Um, no. No blending. I didn’t blend”—eew—“anything. Right, guys?”
“Right,” they both said, nodding in unison.
“No?” the woman said, sounding disappointed. “Then who’s the bio dad? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me see if I can tell which one she favors.” She snatched the blanket from Molly’s face.
I cringed, bracing for the inevitable.
“What the hell?” she boomed. She skewered us each in turn with a look that made me wish I were wearing adult diapers. If eyes were Tasers, we’d all be flopping on the ground. She dug into her skirt pocket—not easy, considering how tight it was—and came out with a security whistle, which she started blowing like there was no tomorrow.
Molly didn’t care for the sound. Her long, nimble fingers unlatched the stroller’s safety belt. In a blink she was knuckle-running off the path toward the nearest tree, oversize shorts and T-shirt flapping around her.
“Molly! No!” Billy took off after her. With an apologetic shrug at me, Mark followed, leaving me to deal with a hormonally supercharged woman twice my size. She turned to go after them but must have thought better of it. I was the easier target.
I backed away from her slowly.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she grunted after spitting out the whistle, and came at me, arms wide and ready to grab.