A Daughter's Legacy. Virginia Smith
than Kelli. What was he to Lillian? An employee, no doubt, since Lillian ran everything here at the zoo.
“I shouted through the bars that I was there to interview for the keeper position. She let me in, handed me a hose, and told me to show her my stuff.” An appealing grin twisted his lips. “I must have looked hesitant, because she barked, ‘You’re not afraid of a little poop, are you?’”
Everyone around Kelli laughed. She couldn’t hold back a smile herself. Judging from the voice she’d heard over the phone during their stilted, twice-yearly conversations, the guy had Lillian’s gravelly, no-nonsense bark down pat. He must have known her pretty well, then. Kelli cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the sparsely filled benches. No doubt these people knew Lillian better than her own daughter did. How sad was that?
“I didn’t bother to point out that she was wearing rubber boots, while I was in a suit and had just polished my shoes. Knowing Lil as I do now, she wouldn’t have cared. It’s a good thing I took the hose and got to work.” His head dropped forward, and when he continued, his voice sounded choked. “Landing this job six years ago was the best thing that ever happened to me. It gave me the chance to work with someone whose devotion to animals went far beyond anyone I’d ever met, or likely will again. Lil changed my outlook on my job, and on my life. I’ll never forget her.”
A hushed murmur of agreement rose from the mourners as he left the stage to return to his seat on the front row, a few feet away from Kelli. She watched him covertly as the minister stepped up to the podium for his final remarks. The guy sat with his head drooping forward, hands dangling between his knees. When he brushed tears from his eyes, Kelli experienced a twinge of self-reproach.
What’s wrong with me, God? My mother is dead. Why can’t I grieve, like this guy?
But Kelli’s soul felt leaden, numb, as the minister led them in a closing prayer. How could she grieve the loss of her mother today, when the real loss had taken place years before?
Twin tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. Jason brushed them away. Becoming emotional today surprised him. He’d already cried for Lil in the privacy of his apartment. In fact, he’d shed almost as many tears for her as he had when Dad died a few months ago. Lil would have been the first to tell him to pull himself together and get over it. He could almost hear her lecturing inside his head.
“Enough, already! There’s work to do. Get over there and check that fence around the wolves’ yard. If Bob gets out again we’ll have AZA inspectors crawling all over the place.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. Lil probably would have hated the idea of this memorial service, anyway. She wasn’t one to tolerate emotional displays, said they wasted energy that should be spent accomplishing something.
Was her daughter anything like her?
Jason stole a sideways glance at the young woman whose face, though pale, bore a strong resemblance to her mother’s. Same chiseled nose, same wide-set, round eyes. Although now that he took a closer look, he realized the daughter was far prettier than her mother. She was more delicate, her lips fuller and softer. And shiny with lip gloss. He’d never seen Lil wear makeup once in all the years he’d known her. Plus, this girl’s thick, dark curls hung in waves down her back, while Lil had always hacked off her straight, steel-gray hair at the chin line. So maybe their features weren’t so much alike after all, even though the daughter’s aloof expression was a duplicate of her mother’s.
Kelli. Lil told him her name was Kelli.
Did she have any idea of the blow she was about to suffer?
As though she sensed his thoughts, Kelli’s head turned and she glanced his way. For the briefest of moments, clear gray eyes looked into his, and air froze in his lungs. Guilt stabbed him in the gut. He straightened quickly and focused his attention on the minister behind the podium.
Why me, Lil? I don’t know if I can do it. Even for you.
Chapter Two
“I don’t know what the house is like yet, Nana. I came straight to the zoo from the airport for the service.”
Kelli spoke quietly into her cell phone as the mourners, most of them zoo employees judging by their clothing, filed past. She stood on a concrete path just beyond the amphitheater exit. The patchy shade from a stand of tall, skimpy trees provided scant relief from the hot Florida sun. She avoided looking anyone in the eye. No doubt she was being rude, but she didn’t think she could handle their curious gazes as they mumbled platitudes about her mother.
“How was it?” Nana’s voice wavered with age. “Were there a lot of people?”
“Around thirty. Everyone said nice things about her, told funny stories and all that.”
“That would have been nice to hear.” Nana paused. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
A drop of sweat slid between her shoulder blades. Kelli held the phone with one hand and mopped at her damp forehead with the tissue. “I’m okay. It’s really humid here, though. And hot. It’s only ten o’clock in the morning and it must be ninety degrees already.”
Kelli folded the tissue and scrubbed the back of her neck beneath her heavy mane of hair as the stream of people leaving the service slowed to a trickle. She spotted the last two men hovering just inside the shoulder-high hedge that surrounded the amphitheater, both of them looking her way. One was Lillian’s attorney, who’d met Kelli at the zoo entrance and brought her inside for the service. The other was the guy who’d spoken last and sat near her. They were obviously waiting for her to finish her conversation.
“Nana, I have to go. I need to talk to the lawyer.”
“All right. Call me tonight.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.”
Kelli disconnected the call and slipped the phone into her purse. When she did, the men stepped through the exit and headed toward her. Mr. Lewis carried the vase of flowers in one hand and his briefcase in the other, and the younger man held—
Her breath caught at the sight of the polished wooden box in his hands.
The serious-faced attorney stepped into the small patch of shade. “Miss Jackson, allow me to introduce Jason Andover, an employee of your mother’s.”
Jason shifted the box to the crook of his left arm and extended his right. “Miss Jackson.”
“Please call me Kelli.” His hand felt cool and dry next to her damp palm. Now that she could see him face-to-face, she felt a little flustered. He was quite handsome, with a golden tan and green-brown eyes that seemed to pierce straight into hers.
“Kelli.” He drew out her name, making the most of both syllables in a faint southern drawl that sent a tickle through her insides. “I’m sorry for your loss. Lil was a good boss, a good woman. She meant a lot to all of us here at the zoo. She was almost like a mother to me.”
The words hit her like a slap. Almost like a mother? How nice for them both. Kelli tried to hold her bitterness at bay, but when his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, she realized her lips were pressed tightly together.
“Thank you,” she managed as she extracted her hand from his grip. “And thank you for your kind words during the service. I’m sure my—mother would have appreciated them.” She turned to Mr. Lewis. “I’d like to get started going through her house. Do you have the key?”
To her surprise, Jason answered. “It’s in the office. Follow me.” He turned abruptly and strode away, not bothering to check to see if she followed.
Odd. What was he upset about? She was the one whose mother apparently mothered everyone but her own daughter. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question to the attorney, but he merely nodded for her to follow Jason’s retreating back. With a sigh, Kelli hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder and trailed after him down the sidewalk beside a high hedge