The Promise of Rain. Rula Sinara
but Anna shook her head and climbed into the driver’s seat. Seeing Jack with Pippa in his lap, his arm wrapped securely around her, was surreal. The three of them. Together. Anna started the ignition. This wasn’t a family outing. At least not the way she’d once imagined it.
She drove about a quarter of a mile to a grove of trees. Thankfully, Pippa monopolized the conversation the entire way there. She listed all the local animals she could think of for Jack, even the most dangerous ones sounding adorable with the way her r’s came out as w’s. Even Anna couldn’t stop from smiling when Jack mimicked Pippa and said, “Zeebwas, huh? I wanna see one of those!” Jack being silly? She knew his sister had a kid, but she’d never pictured him as the shed-the-lab-coat-and-play kind of guy. Anna turned off the ignition.
“Come here, sweetie,” she said, pulling Pippa into her lap and hugging her tightly. She looked at Jack before continuing. He stared back at her expectantly.
This was it.
The moment she’d both longed for and dreaded. Longed for during moments of insane exhaustion, when sleepless nights with an infant made her wonder if there was something to marrying for the sake of practicality. For having someone to lean on, even if it wasn’t for love. But that’s all it was. Insanity. Because she’d come this far without relying on him. And she knew he didn’t love her. Not beyond friendship, and probably not even that anymore, after what she’d done.
Anna kissed the top of Pippa’s head now, breathing in that indefinable child scent, and steeled herself for what was to come. “Pippa, you know how I told you Dr. Harper is a friend?”
“Uh-huh.”
Anna turned Pippa to face her and gently fiddled with a springy curl at her temple.
“He’s more than that to you. He’s your baba, sweetie, although he’ll probably want you calling him Daddy,” Anna said, realizing Jack wouldn’t be accustomed to the local term.
He reached over and tugged on one of Pippa’s bouncy curls. “You can call me whatever you like, Pippa. I’m just really happy to be here with you.”
Pippa stared at him and sank back into Anna’s arms. Her thumb slipped between her teeth. It had taken forever to get her to break that habit. If she regressed...
“My baba...like Kahni?” she said, then slipped her thumb back in her mouth.
“Who’s Kahni?” Jack asked.
“One of the elephant bulls we observe,” Anna said, closing her eyes apologetically. She turned to Pippa. “Like Kahni, only Jack’s your baba. And he walks on two feet,” Anna said. As expected, Pippa giggled and relaxed.
“I know an animal with twenty feet,” Pippa said. “No, it has twenty hundwed million feet and thwee eyes. It’s like a monster.”
“Wow. And I’d love to hear about all the things you like to do, your favorite games and books and whatever you want to talk about,” Jack said, propping his forearms on his knees so they were face-to-face.
“Are you gonna live with us?” Pippa asked, her curls barely masking the wrinkling of her forehead. She looked so much like Jack it hurt.
“Um. No, but we’ll figure all that out later,” Jack said, glancing at Anna.
“Are you gonna mawee my mama?”
Anna froze. If he so much as implied that it was an option, it would be final proof that he was just like her dad. It’d prove that the last proposal had truly been for all the wrong reasons and that Jack was after only one thing now—and it wasn’t her. But if he didn’t want marriage... Anna’s chest twinged. If he didn’t want marriage, it would prove that any inkling of hope she’d ever had about being wrong, about happy-ever-afters really existing, about ever having Jack’s forgiveness and friendship again, would be gone for good. And she wasn’t sure which response would make her feel worse.
Jack straightened back in his seat and looked at Anna, seconds too long, then back at Pippa. “No, squirt. We won’t be getting married.”
And there she had it. Closure.
* * *
JACK SHIFTED ON HIS COT, adjusting the inflatable neck roll he’d brought along against the curve of his lower spine. His cot backed up against a post, his only support as he sat propped up with the files Anna had relinquished. He reclipped his portable, mini LED light so that it wouldn’t wake Kamau. Having never left the States, Jack had only heard of jet lag. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to reassure himself that the mosquito buzzing in frustration near his head couldn’t get past the netting. Or maybe it was his brain buzzing at the numbers and lists in front of him.
Anna and Kamau had indeed kept meticulous records. Meticulous to a point. Something didn’t add up. Miller had never mentioned that kids lived at the camp. He hadn’t specified how many people were allowed to share in the food and essential expenses. Hard to truthfully keep track of how some supplies were used. It wasn’t as if Anna could waste time measuring out how much food, ointment, water or bug spray each individual used. She said she paid for Niara and the kids, but it wasn’t like they paid rent for the camp’s meager lodgings and facilities. He was being a horse’s rear and he knew it, but funds were funds. This new research collaboration between Miller, the lab in Nairobi and himself was huge. It would solidify Jack’s name and reputation in the scientific community.
Anna’s research and her work to provide medical care to the orphaned elephants was significant. He believed that. But in his book, related or not, behavioral studies didn’t compare to genetics and immunology. They were the root of everything. The tough stuff. The kind of research that would have his career set and earn him...respect. Respect of his colleagues and of his family. It’d earn him more lecture engagements, and that meant more money.
He shuffled through the stack, taking a cursory note of all the logs he’d flagged in red. He’d have to send Miller an email, if they got service, otherwise it would have to wait until he got home. A satellite call was out of the question, not only because of the time difference, but due to lack of privacy. He didn’t need Anna standing by on that one.
Guilt scratched at his chest like a grain of sand in the eye. Miller would possibly shut down funding to Anna’s project, forcing her to abandon her work or, at a minimum, merge into one of the more established Kenyan wildlife parks and reserves projects. Jack wasn’t well-versed in foreign paperwork, but if she lost her research funds, it could even mean being forced back to the States—a situation that would facilitate getting Pippa back there, as well. Anna would hate him, more than she already did, but at least Pippa would have both parents nearby.
In any case, Jack had more important things to worry about than Anna’s work. Priorities were priorities. Ensuring funds for his own project would lead to career success, and career success meant being able to provide his daughter with the kind of life she deserved. He had a responsibility to her. Care and education. A father who’d never abandon her. A father who would make every choice in life, from here on out, based on what was best for his child.
Unlike his selfish biological parents.
As far as he was concerned, and as much as he could see that Anna loved Pippa, Anna was being selfish. Keeping her pregnancy a secret and forcing Pippa to grown up in the wild was selfish. Purely selfish. A kid needed more than just one other child to play with. Pippa needed socialization, even if she wasn’t quite school-aged yet. It mattered developmentally, didn’t it? For all her observations on elephant family units, shouldn’t Anna know that?
It had mattered for Jack. His adoptive family had gone out of their way for him. Given him a life. It was why he’d worked so hard to prove that the scared nine-year-old they’d adopted, after he’d been pulled from the dangerous, drug-infested neighborhood where his parents had overdosed, had been worth all their troubles. All the teen agony they’d put up with.
Jack didn’t want Pippa growing up feeling confused or insecure. He didn’t want her to suffer the hunger and cold he’d felt because his drug addict parents had twisted priorities, and