“You stopped her meltdown cold. That’s pretty special.”
Iris blushes and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. God, I love her blush.
Thirty minutes later, as the sun crests over the mountains in the east, we load up into the car. Hailey has her trusty stuffed monkey in hand, and Iris is wearing the cutest leopard print leggings with a simple black tank top. She looks comfortable, which is good. I’d hate for her to be walking around the zoo for hours in something fashionable but not functional. I’ve dated girls who insisted on looking one hundred percent all the time, and I never understood that. If I like you, I like you in whatever. Why spend hours dolling up if we’re just going to the zoo?
We reach the diner an hour later. Despite my best efforts, we hit heavy traffic through LA, and I have to endure eleven thousand “Are we there yet” bursts from Hailey. Iris manages to distract her by telling her some random story about monkeys. I have no clue if it’s something she’s heard before or if she’s pulling it out of her ass, but regardless, it works. Hailey listens with rapt attention until we get to the diner.
Breakfast is nice and relaxing. Hailey jabbers about zoos, and Iris and I do our best to keep up with her rambling conversation. Miraculously, my daughter manages to eat her eggs and jelly-covered biscuit without spilling on her shirt.
Since the zoo doesn’t open for another half hour after we finish breakfast, we hang out at the diner for a while longer. Iris and I sip coffee while Hailey mainlines orange juice like it’s fucking cocaine. That girl will be hopped up on natural sugar for hours. Inwardly I groan, knowing it’ll make it that much harder to keep up with her at the zoo.
We’re one of the first families in line when we get there, and like Hailey, the other kids are all bursting at the seams to see the animals. Since it’s a Saturday, the line outside gets crowded quickly. I guess I wasn’t the only dad streaming the zoo documentary this week.
The ticket booth leads into the gift shop, which I feel is unfair to parents. Now Hailey’s going to want to buy a new toy, and I’ll feel obligated to buy her one. She finds a girl monkey—compete with pink bow—and carries it with her monkey from home. For some reason she’s elated to have a matching pair, and it isn’t until she starts in on a narrative about “Monkey Iris and Monkey Daddy” that I realize she’s started her own primate family. I suspect we’ll be purchasing a baby “Monkey Hailey” on the way back out of the zoo.
The weather is almost perfect, if a little hot in the sun. I’m glad I put sunscreen on Hailey before we left the house, and I check our outing bag to make sure I packed more to reapply later. I offer some to Iris, and she has me rub it into the back of her neck for her.
We stroll past wolves and bobcats and lions, but Hailey keeps begging to see the monkeys. I try to explain that their enclosure is further into the park and that she should be patient, but she’s not having it. Iris and I diffuse no fewer than three meltdowns in the first hour. Finally, in the hopes of coming to a peaceful agreement, I offer to buy Hailey an ice cream cone if she’ll be patient about the monkeys.
“If you stay with Miss Iris while I buy an ice cream cone for you, will you be good for her?”
Hailey agrees, and I leave her with Iris while I stand in line. Despite the early hour, there are already at least a dozen parents in line for ice cream, some with screaming kids in tow. I feel bad for those parents who are here solo; they don’t have anyone to watch their kids while they wait, meaning the children get irritated and impatient.
I count myself extremely lucky to have found Iris. She may be new to the pseudo-parent life, but she’s adjusting surprisingly well. She’s so good with Hailey, and my daughter adores her.
One of these days, I’m going to get up the nerve to tell Iris how I feel. I’ve had tons of opportunities, but I keep chickening out. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to say; I used to say it to Lisa every day.
Maybe that’s the problem. I might have some residual guilt over loving someone other than Lisa so soon after her death. I’m sure a psychiatrist would just love to dissect my feelings right now.
The line for ice cream moves at a snail’s pace. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, getting almost as antsy as the kids in line. I worry Hailey will forget her promise to be calm if I’m gone too long in this line. I hope Iris is handling her okay. I look back and see the two of them in front of a parrot exhibit, Iris pointing at one of the birds and reading off of one of the informative plaques the zoo has set up at each enclosure. Hailey seems bored, but she’s at least behaving.
Why did the monkey enclosure have to be so far into the zoo? It’s got to be a popular exhibit; surely, they realize a lot of kids will want to see it.
Finally, after twenty-five minutes, I make it to the front of the line. I get Hailey a chocolate cone, hoping not too much of it ends up on her pink shirt, and on impulse I buy a strawberry cone for Iris.
As I exchange some money for the cones, I hear a scream that causes my heart to leap into my throat.
“Hailey? Hailey! Where did you go?”
Chapter 23
Iris
I’m going to be sick.
I only let go of her hand for a nanosecond. I swear, I justblinked, and she was gone!
“Hailey?Hailey!” My voice is shrill, about seventeen octaves higher than normal, and if someone doesn’t come along with a paper bag for me to breathe into, I’m going to pass the fuck out.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I whirl around to see Micah’s concerned face frowning at me. A few paces back, two ice cream cones lie splattered on the ground behind him.
“Iris, what happened? Where’s Hailey?”
This is it. It’s over. Hailey’s been kidnapped, and he’s going to dump me.
“Iris?”
Tears stream down my face as I gulp for air. “I—I—I don’t know! She was just here, I swear! I j-just let go for a second. She wasjust here!”
