Page 75 of Crocodile Tears
“I don’t want to talk about him, Mom. It just makes everything hurt,” I admitted.
“But—”
“Letting him go was the right decision.” The saying had become my own personal mantra. I wondered if I said it enough times, if maybe I’d start to believe it. “I couldn’t endanger our family.”
“The zoo is a very safe place, honey. We’d be okay,” Mom said. “Besides, the twins would’ve loved to patrol with tranquilizer darts at night.”
“That’s not the only reason.” I dropped my chin into my hands. “I couldn’t let him sacrifice everything to be with me either.”
Mom let out a long-suffering sigh. “You know, I was in law school when I met your father.”
“Yeah?” I asked, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“He told me we couldn’t be together.” Her eyes crinkled as she looked through the window as if looking back to her fondest memories of him. “He knew his life’s mission was here—takingcare of our animals, using whatever money we could earn to protect animals in the wild and conserve natural habitats.”
“I know?”
“And he said being with him was too big of a sacrifice for me to make. To leave my career. To move to an island no less,” Mom said with a chuckle. “But what he calledsacrifices, I calledchoices. I chose the future I wanted. I wanted the one with him in it and I never regretted it, not even for a second.”
“Mom, Deacon abandoning his career is not the same as you leaving law school.”
“Maybe not.” Mom let out a contemplative hum. “Who knows what my life would’ve been if I turned a different direction at every fork in the road. I’ve made a lot of wrong choices in my life, but choosing love wasn’t one of them,” she said. “Just don’t be afraid to choose the future that you want for yourself, okay?”
“Yeah.” My shoulders drooped as I let her words sink in. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.” Her eyes softened. “And since you want to work through lunch, I will gift you with the task of completing some more of my paperwork.” She squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got a new induction form I need to write up.”
“A new induction form this time of year? Why?”
The lines around her eyes deepened as she smiled. “Because I’ve hired a new keeper.”
“A new keeper?”
“Yeah,” Mom said, as if that weren’t massive news that we all should’ve been talking about for months and months before making any such decision. “I figured now that Hawk and Hannah have their hands full with Simon, we could use an extra staff member. She’s a country girl from Wyoming. She’ll be perfect to take over hoof stock.”
“Hoof stock? Where’s Heron going?”
“To birds,” Mom informed me.
“Andwheream I going?” I asked, perplexed.
“On to other things,” Mom said with a shrug. “I’ve known since you were a kid. I thought you’d be out the door long before Lark to be honest. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved all this extra time I’ve had with you, but I think it’s time for some new adventures in your life. Being here right now doesn’t seem to be healing you. If anything, I think it’s making it worse.” That hurt to hear, hurt because she was right. “I think a fresh start would be good for you, hon.”
“Probably,” I murmured. “Not that there’s any town in the world where I could completely run away from someone as famous as Deacon Harrow.”
“Do you want me to call my friends in Borneo?” she asked, taking out her phone. “You could go do some field research for a while? Can’t be haunted by Deacon Harrow where there’s no electricity.”
“Tempting,” I admitted with a huff. “But I think I’ll manage to survive.” Mom’s eyes widened for a second as she stared at her phone. “What’s up?”
“Uh, nothing,” she said cooly, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She was a good liar, but not that good. “Seriously,” she added as if sensing my wariness. “Just an invoice that was higher than expected. I’ll need to call the fruit supplier again.”
“Do you want me to do it?” I offered, hopeful to be put to work again.
“That’s alright, sweetie.” Mom smiled. “Oh, and I’ve sorted the last of the LRCT paperwork,” she said, clearly not wanting to mention Lucky Role Conservation Trust but needing to.
Two weeks after he’d left, Deacon had closed down the trust. Mom had helped with the documentation for it in my stead because even looking at the charity right now hurt too much. I should’ve known Deacon would abandon the charity without a new director at the helm. It was too complicated now havingmy name attached to his. It shouldn’t have surprised me but was still disappointing. For a brief flicker of a moment there, I’d thought he’d returned to the guy I’d once known. But maybe his good-heartedness had just been another performance.
“I just need to sign some things and then it’s official,” she said, sweeping her stray gray hairs off her face. “I have them printed out in my office, if you could just swing by on your way down to return the buckets.”
