“Then the lions?” Robbie asks hopefully.
“We could go to the lions after that,” Tabitha says. “But we’ve got an hour before they get fed. We should see the bugs first.”
“Bugs?” Lexi asks, horrified.
“They’ve got frogs, snails, locusts, bees, spiders—”
“Spiders?” Lexi and Robbie shriek together.
“Yes,” Tabitha says in a serious tone. “They’re my favourite.”
“Yuck.” Lexi shudders.
“I’m not a fan of spiders either,” I tell her.
She scowls. “My uncle Blake likes spiders. Maybe I like spiders too.”
“Lexi…” Corey begins.
I smile at him, telling him it’s okay. I’m not expecting Lexi to like me instantly. I know it’s going to take her some time to warm up to me and accept me as part of her dad’s life.
We go into the butterfly house, which is hot enough that we all end up taking our coats off. Butterflies flutter around us, and one or two are brave enough to land on an outstretched finger, much to the kids’ delight. Corey and I both take photos on our phones.
We go to see the bugs next. Despite Lexi’s assertion that she might like spiders, the moment she sees a tarantula in a tank, she squeals and hides behind Corey. Robbie does the same, although I’m pretty sure he’s copying her. Tabitha, on the other hand, is clearly fascinated.
“Do you think Mum would let me get one as a pet?” she asks.
“No.”
“Would you buy me one? I could keep it at your place.”
“That’s definitely a no. Sorry, kiddo, but I’m not looking after a spider for you. What if it got out of its tank and put me into a cocoon?”
Tabitha stares at me. “First, it would be in a secure tank. Second, tarantulas don’t make cocoons. Third, it’s not big enough to wrap you up in silk. You’re a doctor. You’re meant to know this stuff.”
“I know about people, not animals,” I remind her. “Plus, I was joking.”
She folds her arms, clearly not buying it.
“My nine-year-old niece thinks I’m silly,” I whisper to Corey.
“You kind of are.”
“On purpose.”
“Uh-huh.”
We get to the lions in plenty of time to find a good spot to see them from. The kids are all captivated by the feeding spectacle, giving Corey and me a few minutes of closeness. I put my arm around his waist and kiss him softly.
“Having fun?” I ask. ‘Sweet boy’ is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t let it slip out.
“Yes, thank you.”
“We should get lunch soon.”
“Maybe not straight after seeing the lions eat,” Corey says.
It is a pretty gory sight.
