Ophelia’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“A sea lion bit their trainer. They might look cute, but they’re vicious. It was ugly.”
“Well, hopefully this trip will have a little less bloodshed.”
As if on cue, Squeaky, who had somehow made it on top of the rhino, started to tumble forward. I caught the bowling ball of trouble by the back of his shirt, hoisting him up before he could impale himself on the bronze statue’s horn.
“Don’t you dare put me on the clock, Squeaky,” I warned him.
He spread his arms out wide and started making airplane noises as I one-handed carried him down the pathway.
The kids wanted to see everything. Tigers. Monkeys. We passed the sea lions and I gave them a chastising look. “You know what you’ve done.”
I swear, one of the beasts ducked its head under its fin in shame.
We found a baby nyala in the nyala herd, which looked like a cross between a deer and a rabbit. Kira immediately fell in love and began reciting all the facts she’d learned from the placards.
Ophelia remained bright and energetic for as long as she could. But I could tell she was waning. When we finally got to the penguin exhibit, I made her sit on the bench with me. The entire room was dark and cool. There was a long length of glass through which we could see the bright, white ice and a flurry of penguins and puffins waddling around, diving throughthe water, and wiggling back up to do it all over again. Kira and Squeaky rushed to the glass, pressing their palms to it and communicating with the birds.
On a beautiful day like today, the indoor exhibits were emptier than usual. It provided Ophelia and I with a small, quiet moment.
“I used to come here a lot,” she said. “First with my sisters, when we were kids, you know? But when I got into theater, I’d come to places like this to study people.”
“Study people?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Like…body language. I’d make notes on the way people express themselves without talking, and then I’d use those in my acting. You’d be shocked by what people say with their bodies.”
Alright. I was curious. “What does my body language say?”
A grin slowly climbed her face. “I knew this guy once. He’d spent time in the military. Overseas. Combat zone. You carry yourself the same way. You’re always on alert. Eyes on everyone in the room. Like you know things can go wrong at the drop of a pin and when it does, you’ll be ready to clean up the mess.”
“I guess I have trouble turning it off.”
“Except at the club. Your body language is…different there. That’s the only place you can relax, isn’t it? Let down your guard.”
I felt us tiptoeing dangerously close to truths I held close to my chest. I diverted. I nodded to a young couple by the glass.
“What about them? What does their body language say?”
Ophelia turned her gaze to them. I watched as her mouth thinned with concentration, her eyebrows furrowing. It was cute, the way her face looked when she focused. “First date,” she decided. “He’s trying to impress her. Look—he’s nervous. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to holdher hand, but he’s not sure ifshewants it, so he keeps his arms folded, like he’s physically restraining himself.”
I listened to her, so impressed with her analysis, it took me a good second to realize…fuck. She was talking about me.Ihad my arms folded across my chest, clutching my biceps. Holding myself back.
And, yes. I’d been thinking about holding her hand since we first got to the zoo.
Quietly I unfurled, re-positioning my hands to set them on the bench instead. Trying to shake my tell.
“You’re terrifying.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“That explains why you’re so good at the club,” I added. “You read a room. You know what people need. And you make them feel at home.”
She scoffed. “I’m not sure I do…all that.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “The other Friday, I came in and you were playing Charadesin the aftercare room.”
“Well, yeah, because Charadesisfun. I don’t know if that has anything to do with me…”
