The first thing I notice about Dr. Kimber is how petite she is. Perhaps because of the outsized influence she had on my childhood, I expect her to be roughly the height of an Amazon warrior from the Gal Gadot Wonder Woman movie. But she’s at least seven inches shorter than me, and I feel like I’m standing next to a gorilla-saving Polly Pocket.
“Hello, I’m Charlotte,” she says, extending a hand toward me. The raven braid she wore on the cover of Majesty on the Mountain has been cut into a slick-straight bob, and wispy bangs end at a pair of hazel eyes identical to Kai’s. Strands of gray weave through her hair, and she wears a black jumpsuit that Sam would thoroughly approve of. This is the woman whose book changed my life, who marched into the jungle with a travel guide and a tent and decided to change the course of history. This is the woman whose decades of work ensured the survival of mountain gorillas, at least for now.
And she’s talking to me.
When I’m too awestruck to speak, Charlotte raises an eyebrow in a way that reminds me of her son.
“This is Lucy Rourke,” Kai says, swooping in to help. “She’s a soon-to-be senior keeper at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium, where she’s heading up a gorilla surrogacy project.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” Charlotte says, her hand still outstretched toward me.
Suddenly coming to my senses, I reach for her hand. “I’m, your, well, biggest. Fan,” I tell her, barely able to get the words out.
Dr. Kimber, still shaking my hand despite the fact that I sound like I’m having a stroke, smiles. “That’s very sweet.”
“Majesty on the Mountain changed, um, my life,” I continue. “I used to trek around the woods behind my grandmother’s house and, um, pretend I was tracking gorillas with you. In Rwanda. I wanted to be just like you.”
“It’s always delightful to hear that I had an effect on a young person’s life,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to reveal a smooth pearl earring.
Before I can grab my bobblehead from my purse and ask her to sign it, she turns her attention toward Kai. “I thought we agreed you’d wear a black suit. Did I misunderstand?”
I glance sideways at Kai, whose jaw tenses imperceptibly. Why does Dr. Kimber, who I imagined only worried about big stuff like saving endangered species, care about something as inconsequential as a suit color?
“The black suit had a tear,” Kai says quietly. “I didn’t realize it until this morning and didn’t have time to replace it.”
Dr. Kimber smiles at him, but it’s not the warm, patient smile she gave me. It’s polite, almost cold, like how Karina probably smiled at Kai when he asked if Guilty Pleasures was a sitcom. “I suppose I should be grateful that you’re here at all. I know how busy you are with your little program.”
I imagine my eyes popping out of my skull with surprise like a cartoon character’s. Did she seriously just call Wild Side a “little program”? Besides being cruel, it’s also factually inaccurate; Kai’s show has strong ratings and performs even better on streaming platforms, and more important, there are families across the world who wouldn’t know the difference between a gorilla and a chimpanzee if it weren’t for his docuseries.
I wait for Kai to correct her, or at least say something to defend himself, but he only looks at her with the sloping shoulders of someone who’s heard this a thousand times before.
“Actually, Dr. Kimber,” I say, suddenly finding my voice, “with all due respect, On the Wild Side is not a little program. It’s huge. Kai’s won three Emmys, and I’ve seen how hard he and his crew work. It’s really impressive.”
“Of course, Lucy,” she says with a nod. “I didn’t mean to imply that the show isn’t successful. I’m only saying that some of us, like you and I, do the grunt work of being in the field and getting our hands dirty. And others jet around in first class and parade around on camera like a dancing monkey. Not that there’s anything wrong with being an entertainer.”
Her tone is calm, collected, without a trace of malice or spite, and that’s almost as unnerving as her words.
“Kai’s more than just an entertainer, though,” I tell her. “He’s an educator.”
I think of Kai taking time out of his nonstop schedule to help coach me for the camera, and helping to load Zuri onto the stretcher, and staying at the zoo all hours of the day and night to capture Keeva’s arrival and Brutus the grizzly’s surgery and the birth of Phoebe the Asian elephant’s new calf. I think of him autographing a hat for Mia and beaming for the camera even when he doesn’t want to, even when he’s so sick of saying “Wowza!” that he wants to scream. Because he knows there are a lot of people—and animals—counting on him.
Dr. Kimber smiles. “I think this one likes you, Kai,” she says, reaching out to flick a speck of imaginary dust off his shoulder. He flinches but doesn’t respond, only setting his jaw in a tight line.
Confusion and annoyance prick my skin. I’m not defending Kai because I like him, even though I do—I’m defending him because it’s the truth, and because it’s unbearable to watch Dr. Kimber treat her son with the same dismissive coldness my mother showed me. I didn’t deserve it when I was ten, and he doesn’t deserve it now.
I give Kai my best what-the-hell-is-going-on-here look, but he only shakes his head and gives my hand a brief squeeze.
“So, Lucy,” Dr. Kimber says, studying me like she didn’t just insult her own flesh and blood so cruelly, “tell me about your surrogacy project.”
Before I can fashion a response, however, a frazzled-looking woman with an earpiece and a clipboard marches toward us. “Mr. Bridges, you’re on in five minutes,” she says. “We’ll play a short video about Dr. Kimber’s work, you’ll say a few words, and then you’ll present her with the award. Any questions?”
“No questions, thank you,” Kai says.
“I’m beyond honored,” Dr. Kimber says with a smile.
The woman almost drops her clipboard. “I can assure you, Dr. Kimber, the honor is mine,” she says before glancing my way. “Want to follow me to your seat?”
I don’t want to leave Kai, but he only nods when I look at him with a question in my eyes. “Go ahead,” he says. “Enjoy the presentation, and I’ll see you after.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper as Dr. Kimber watches placidly.
He nods and brushes a lock of hair away from my face. “Positive.”
I’m not convinced, but I can’t very well hold up the evening, so I don’t press further. “Okay then. Break a leg.”
“Hey, Luce,” he calls after me as I follow the clipboard-bearing woman past a tableful of finger foods.
When I turn back, Kai’s grinning at me, but it’s a few watts short of its usual voltage. “In grassy areas, there are fifty thousand spiders per acre.”
I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and convince him we should blow this Popsicle stand, but I only smile back. “For every human on earth, there are one million ants.”
Then I follow the attendant to my seat, wondering how my beloved childhood idol turned out to be so rude and condescending toward her own son. I guess Kai was right, that you should never meet your heroes, because once this presentation is over, I plan to march straight down to the beach and fling my cherished copy of Majesty on the Mountain and my bobblehead into the Pacific.