Page 25
I'm glad to step out of the sun and into the monkey tent. Pip and Squeak chatter from the rafters the second the canvas drops behind us, and Peanut—curled intoa fleece-lined basket on a folding table—lifts his small head and blinks at me with sleepy interest.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur, setting the kit down. “Look at you. Sitting up like a person.”
Peanut chirps.
I crouch and get the syringe ready. Rowe stays back, hands in his pockets, watching me work.
“Can you hold him for me?” I ask without looking up. “Just like yesterday. Side to me.”
“Yeah.”
He steps forward, scoops Peanut into the crook of his elbow with a tenderness that makes my heart stutter and turns so the capuchin's flank is presented to me.
I work fast—pinch the skin, slide the needle in, depress the plunger, withdraw. Then I press my thumb against the spot until I'm sure there's no more blood.
“Good boy,” I tell Peanut, who didn't even flinch. “Good, good boy.”
I cap the syringe, drop it in the sharps bin in my kit, then reach for the swab to wipe down the injection site. That's when I notice my hand is shaking.
It's not a lot, but it's there. I steady it against the table edge and surreptitiously take a calming breath.
When I look up, Rowe is watching me.
Not Peanut. Me.
“What's wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I answer too quickly.
“Wren.”
The way he says my name does something to my knees. I focus on Peanut, stroking my thumb over the fur of his temple.
“Long morning,” I say. The rehearsed line. “I'm fine.”
“You're not,” he counters.
“Iam.”
“You're shaking.”
I curl the offending hand into a fist on the table.
“It's nothing. I'm fine. I—” My throat closes. I clear it. “Maybe I should check on the others while I'm out here. If that's alright.”
He doesn't move for a beat. Then he settles Peanut back into the fleece basket with the same care he used to pick him up and straightens.
“Wren.”
“Please don't.”
The words come out before I can stop them, and they sound rawer than I meant. I press my lips together.
He goes still.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “We can check the others.”
He turns toward the flap. I follow, gathering the kit, blinking hard because my vision's getting blurry.
