“Night, Dad,” Lexi said, and went over to give him a kiss on the cheek. He hugged her. “Sleep tight, and tomorrow is tiger day—and all those animals you like to pet.”
“But I still love my pony Scout the best,” the child told him, her pert face so serious as she referred to the horse she met during their adventures on Mackinac Island. “Remember, you promised that no snake’s gonna hurt him, even if he’s staying at a place on Rattlesnake Road. Glad it’s not in the Glades where those real big snakes get caught.”
“Everything will be okay,” he promised. “Claire, I’ll heat that lasagna in the microwave. It wouldn’t hurt me to turn in early too, after the day I’ve had.”
“And the life you’ve had,” she said. “But things, like Lexi’s said more than once, are going to be ‘all better’ now.”
For one moment she thought she glimpsed a figure outside in the shadows behind the patio, but surely that was just her own reflection in the glass. She would not worry Nick with her fears and certainly didn’t want to upset Lexi. After all, their enemies were dead.
“I’ve decided I’m going to call you Duncan, your real name,” Claire told the thin, quiet nine-year-old boy the next day as the group walked from the BAA parking lot to the zoo’s entrance. “It’s a good and strong name.”
“I don’t know,” he said, tugging on the brim of his too-large, beat-up Miami Dolphins hat. It hid his eyes and made his brown, shaggy hair spike out the back. He always walked with his head slightly down, and she’d love to change that too. “My dad might not like it. Duck’s his name for me,” he added so low she almost couldn’t hear him.
“But he’s not home now. What will your mother think?”
“She’d be okay, I guess, ’cause she used to call me that—Duncan. Till he said no. But why’s it a strong name? ’Cause I’m kind of skinny.”
“You will fill out and get stronger as you get older. It’s a strong name because it’s a name from a great country called Scotland, and there was even a King Duncan of Scotland. It’s a somewhat unusual name for a young person, so it’s very special. If you don’t want me to call you Duncan, I won’t, but Lexi, Jilly, Darcy and I would like to call you by your real name—also because you are a friend and good person to us.”
He shrugged his skinny shoulders under a stained shirt that was not quite warm enough for the day. “Then okay,” he muttered. “Just for now, but if my dad comes back, don’t say it in front of him—and hide from him, ’cause I will too.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. To have seen all this child had...to be so afraid. Her own child had been through terrible times, but she could have stood right there and sobbed for this little boy and the others along with them today.
Claire and Darcy had discussed more than once whether the motto for their Comfort Zone program for children affected by domestic violence should be Children Need Both Roots and Wings or There Is No Rainbow without Rain, so they used both. So far, through social services and contacts from Darcy’s church, they had nine children they met with weekly to take to some sort of experience where they could learn, have fun, and feel safe and appreciated. Darcy’s elementary education background and Claire’s psychology degree gave them the skills to cope with deeply damaged and sometimes endangered children—at least they hoped so.
Darcy’s husband, Steve, who oversaw a construction team in South Florida, couldn’t come today, but it was a rare treat to have Nick along for this visit to the Backwoods Animal Adventure. Nick and Claire had picked up three of the children; Darcy and Jilly had arrived in the small parking lot with three; and Nick’s employee Bronco Gates and his girlfriend, Nita, had picked up the other three. Nita had been Lexi’s nanny and was now their babysitter. She was going to work for them part-time when the baby was born.
The ages of the Comfort Zone kids ranged from eight to eleven. Claire and Darcy had gone through the parental permission routine or interviews with their guardians, which gave them a chance to better understand their difficult, sometimes dangerous home situations. Two of the kids were in foster care.
Claire wasn’t sure why she especially gravitated toward this child everyone called Duck, except that, before she knew Nick, her husband had been the lead prosecuting attorney in the trial that had sent the boy’s father to a state prison for four years. That was for running his truck into and then brutally beating a guy who pulled in front of him in a car—road rage at its worst. The boy, who had been in the truck, had testified through a child advocate, and his horrendous tale of spousal and child abuse had helped to convict his father, though the defense lawyer had tried to get all of that thrown out. After being released for just a few months, Duck’s dad, Irv Glover, beat up his wife and killed a social worker. Glover had disappeared, but his child and wife still suffered.
Claire saw the boy flinch when Brittany Hoffman, their host for this visit, nearly jumped out from just behind the small ticket and information building where her mother sat. Claire put her hand on his bony shoulder.
“Welcome to all of you!” Brittany shouted. “We are going to have fun and learn a lot today!”
They had already been welcomed in the small parking lot by both of the senior Hoffmans, Brittany’s parents, but they’d returned to their duties, and Brittany was a bit late meeting them. She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes. Too little sleep? Claire wondered. Maybe she’d spent the night with Jace. Despite looking tired, she was animated and almost gave off sparks.
“I’m Brittany, the daughter of the owners of the BAA. We’re so happy to see you! Don’t worry, because all the animals that bite are in special cages or behind fences. We want to show you all our farm animals, our Florida animals and tropical birds—even our snakes and alligators—which we do not pet—and especially our new tiger who is here because he was treated badly at his first home.”
Sally, a Comfort Zone child and victim of sexual abuse, who seemed so much older than her years, whispered to Claire, “What’s new about that? Let’s welcome that tiger to the club.”
* * *
Nick was pleased to see how well Brittany and Claire got along, considering that Brittany was Claire’s ex-husband’s girlfriend. More than once when Jace had picked up Lexi for a visit, a couple of times with Brittany in the car, Jace had joked that Brit was really good at taming wild animals. Nick wondered if they’d tie the knot—and if that mattered to Claire.
Brittany Hoffman was cute rather than beautiful, although she didn’t work much at it and looked a bit blitzed today. She had sharp blue eyes and a glossy mane of sandy-colored hair she wore pulled back in a big ponytail. Minimal makeup, though she hardly needed it with her healthy color. She was petite but shapely, toned and tanned. Of the Hoffman family who owned this place, she was really the only one with credentials for working with animals, as Claire had said she had a BS from the University of Florida in zoology and animal management.
As for the rest of the family, her parents, Ben and Ann, just plain loved animals. After military service, Ben had sold advertising for the local newspaper, but said he’d wanted to get away from the “rat race.” He’d told the kids when someone asked, no they didn’t have rats to pet here.
The man was tall and muscular, as if he could wrestle some of the gators they had here. Jace had mentioned he really liked the guy, an ex-marine to match his own navy pilot career. Actually, Jace had met Ben before Brittany, at a Veterans of Foreign