Kiss an Angel

by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Trey was driving his trailer on the morning jump, but he hadn’t arrived yet, so Alex headed over to the cook tent for some of the bitterly potent coffee that would eat a hole in his already burning stomach. Before he could fill his cup, he heard a shrill, demanding trumpet. He cursed softly under his breath and headed for the elephants.

  When he got there, he wasn’t surprised to see that Neeco looked peeved. “Give me the hot shot back, Alex. Just one jab, and we can put an end to this bullshit.”

  Despite Neeco’s bluster, Alex knew the elephant trainer had lost his taste for the prod after his encounter with Sinjun. He liked to think that Daisy’s ways with the animals had opened Neeco’s eyes, because he was gentler with the elephants than he had been, and they were working better for him. Still, he needed to make sure Neeco understood that he couldn’t go back to his old ways.

  “As long as I’m boss, you’re not using the prod again.”

  “Then get that little prick out of here.”

  Alex walked over to Tater and suffered the baby’s embrace. The tip of the elephant’s trunk poked beneath his shirt collar to sniff his neck, just as he’d done with Daisy. Alex untethered him and headed toward the spool truck, with Tater trotting behind.

  When Daisy had disappeared, Tater had stopped eating, but Alex had been too entangled in his own private hell to notice. It was only as the small elephant’s condition deteriorated that Neeco forced him to pay attention.

  It didn’t take him long to discover that the elephant found comfort in his presence, not because of anything Alex did, but because the baby associated him with Daisy. He started to eat again, and before long, he was following Alex around the lot as he’d once followed her.

  The two of them made their way toward the spool truck, where the nylon was ready to be unrolled as soon as the location for the top was decided on. Brady had arrived there ahead of him, but he stepped aside as Alex approached. Alex didn’t know what he’d have done without Brady. Along with Jack, Brady had helped take up the slack from his frequent absences and kept things running.

  For the next few hours, Alex labored alongside the workers as they erected the top on the difficult terrain. He was still in the clothes he’d worn on the plane, but he didn’t stop to change when Trey arrived with his trailer. Sweat soaked his blue oxford-cloth shirt, and he managed to rip his gray dress slacks, but he didn’t care. The mind-numbing labor kept him from thinking.

  When he could avoid it no longer, he headed to the trailer, with Tater close behind. He tethered the animal near the hay Digger had left, then hesitated as he approached the door. The trailer was filled with her scent, her touch, everything but her presence, and he hated going inside.

  He did it anyway, and as he changed clothes, he was tortured with images of the way she’d looked as she’d rushed through the door with dirt-smeared cheeks, grubby clothes, straw clinging to her hair, and the gleam of accomplishment in her eyes. He wandered over to the refrigerator, but all he could find was a can of beer and a carton of yogurt Daisy had bought for herself. It had expired two weeks ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.

  He grabbed the beer and carried it outside, popping the top as he walked over to Tater. The baby was keeping himself cool by sprinkling hay on his back. He picked up a fresh batch and, as a gesture of friendship, dusted Alex with it instead. It hadn’t taken Alex long to figure out why Daisy’d always had hay stuck in her hair.

  “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.”

  “You also have a marriage.”

  “It’s not a real marriage. It never was.”

  “It is now. We took vows, Daisy. Sacred vows. That’s as real as it gets.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Why are you doing this? I told you it’s too late for me to have an abortion.”

  He ached for her. As deep as his sorrow was, he knew it couldn’t match hers. “There’ll be other babies, sweetheart. We’ll try again. As soon as the doctor says it’s all right”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I wanted the baby as much as you did, but I didn’t realize it until the night you ran away. I know it’s my fault you lost the baby. If I’d taken better care of you this never would have happened.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I haven’t lost the baby.”

  He stared at her.

  “I’m still pregnant.”

  “But you said—when I told you I wanted to talk, you said it was too late for you to have an abortion.”

  “I’m four-and-a-half months pregnant. An abortion isn’t legal.”

  Even as joy flooded through him, her mouth twisted with a cynicism that he’d never imagined he’d see. “That changes things, doesn’t it, Alex? Now that you know the cake’s still baking in the oven and it’s going to stay right there, I’ll bet you aren’t so anxious to have me back.”

  Emotions were traveling through him so quickly he couldn’t deal with them. She still carried their baby. She hated him. She didn’t want to come back. He couldn’t handle that much emotional chaos, so he settled on the practical. “What are you doing about medical care?”

  “There’s a clinic not far from here.”

  “A clinic?” He had a fortune in the bank, and his wife was going to a clinic. He had to get her away from here where he could kiss that look of implacable resolve from her face, but the only way he could do that was by playing the tough guy.

  “If this is your idea of taking care of yourself, I’m not impressed. You’re thin and pale. You’re strung so damned tight, you look like you’re going to fall apart.”

  “What do you care? You don’t want this baby.”

  “Oh, I want the baby very much. Just because I acted like a bastard when you told me the news doesn’t mean I didn’t come to my senses. I know you don’t want to go with me, but for now, you don’t have any other choice. You’re endangering yourself and the baby, Daisy, and I can’t let you do that.”

  He could see that he’d found her weakest spot, but she still fought him. “You don’t have any say in this.”

  “I have a say, all right. And I’m going to make sure you and the baby are safe.”

  Her eyes grew wary.

  “I’ll play dirty,” he said quietly. “It won’t take me long to find out where you’re working, and I guarantee I’ll make your job disappear.”

  “You’d do that to me?”

  “I won’t even hesitate.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and he knew he’d won, but he felt no satisfaction.

  “I don’t love you anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t love you at all.”

  His throat closed. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I love you enough for both of us.”

  23

  Alex drove Daisy to the small house on a narrow street in a working-class neighborhood not far from the zoo. The house had a plaster statue of the Blessed Mother in the tiny front yard, along with a sunflower pinwheel guarding a bed of pink petunias. She rented a bedroom in the back with a view of a chain-link fence, and while she packed her meager possessions, he slipped away to settle up with her landlady, only to discover that Daisy had already paid her rent for the month.

  From the chatty woman, he learned that Daisy worked as a receptionist at a beauty shop during the day and waited tables at a neighborhood tavern at night. No wonder she seemed so tired. She had no car, so she either walked or took a bus everywhere, and she was saving all her money to get ready for the baby. The fact that his wife had been living in penury while he had two luxury cars and a house filled with priceless art pounded another nail into his coffin of guilt.

  As they set out on the road, he briefly considered taking her to his home in Connecticut, only to reject the idea. She needed more than physical healing; she needed emotional healing, and maybe the animals she loved would help him give that to her.

  It was all so familiar that Daisy experienced a moment of well-being as the truck swayed to a stop. She and Alex were on the road, making a jump to the next lot. She was in love and pregnant and—she jolted awake as reality crashed in on her.

  He pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door.

  “I have to get some sleep before I run us into a bridge abutment. Wait here while I check in.” He climbed out of the truck and closed the door behind him.

  She leaned back against the seat, and as she shut her eyes against the gathering dusk, she also closed her heart to the gentleness she had heard in his voice. He was filled with guilt, anyone could see that, but she wouldn’t be manipulated. The lies he’d spoken earlier had undoubtedly made him feel better, but believing them would only trap her. She had a child to protect, and she could no longer afford the luxury of such foolish optimism.

  He’d told her that her father and Amelia had tampered with her birth control pills and apologized for not trusting her. More guilt. She shut him out.

  Why couldn’t he have left her alone? Why had he forced her to come back with him? For the first time in weeks, the tide of emotions she’d worked so hard to repress rose inside her. She pressed her knuckles to her lips and fought the feelings back until she once again slipped behind the comforting barrier that had kept her functioning this past month.

  For as long as she could remember, she had been a woman who had run on emotions, but she hadn’t been able to continue to do that and survive. Pride is everything, Alex had told her, and now she knew he was right. Pride had kept her going. It had enabled her to answer the phone and shampoo heads all day, then spend her nights carrying heavy trays loaded with greasy food that made her stomach heave. Pride had kept a roof over her head and let her lay money aside for her future. Pride had kept her running when love had betrayed her.

  And now what? For the first time in weeks, she experienced a fear that had nothing to do with making her rent. She was afraid of Alex. What did he want with her?

  The biggest threat to a young tiger is an older male tiger. Tigers don’t have strong family bonds like lions and elephants. It isn’t unusual for a father tiger to kill his own cub.

  She fumbled for the door handle only to see her husband stalking toward her.

  Alex pulled a chair back from the ta
ble where the room-service waiter had set out the meal he had ordered. “Sit down and eat, Daisy.”

  He hadn’t chosen a sleazy highway motel. Instead, he’d booked them into a luxury suite in a shiny new Marriott located along the Ohio River at the Indiana-Kentucky border. She thought of the way she used to count pennies when she grocery shopped and gave him lectures on extravagance when he bought a bottle of good wine. How he must have been laughing at her.

  “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Keep me company, then.”

  It was less work to take the chair he held out for her than argue. He tightened the knot on the sash of the white terry robe he’d put on after his shower and sat across from her. His hair was still damp, and it curled a bit at the temples. He needed a haircut.

  She looked down at the huge quantity of food he’d ordered for her: a dinner-plate-size salad, chicken breasts smothered in mushroom sauce, a baked potato, a side order of pasta, two rolls, a large glass of milk, and a slab of cheesecake.

  “I can’t eat this.”

  “I’m starved. I’ll eat some of it for you.”

  Although he enjoyed food, he wasn’t a big enough eater to put a dent in all this. She felt her stomach pitch. She’d had more trouble holding food down since she’d left him than she’d had during her entire first trimester.

  “Try this.” He lifted a bite of lasagna from his own plate and held it to her lips. When she opened her mouth to refuse, he shoved it inside, forcing her to chew.

  “I told you I didn’t want to eat.”

  “Just a sample. Good, isn’t it?”

  To her surprise, once the initial shock had passed, the lasagna did taste good, although she wasn’t going to tell him that. She took a sip of water. “I really don’t want anything else.”

  “I’m not surprised.” He pointed toward her chicken. “That looks dry.”

  “It’s covered in sauce. It doesn’t look dry at all.”

  “Trust me, Daisy. That chicken is dry as shoe leather.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”