She carried the camp chair from the tent over to the tub and stood upon it. She peered through the strip of mesh that separated the roof from the wall, and there they were: easily two dozen wildebeest, walking and grazing, a procession no more than nine or ten feet from where she was standing on a chair. They were either oblivious to her or they didn’t care. They looked, she decided, rather like thin cows with beards. There were no calves or babies in this group, and once more she touched the small of her belly. She had felt a special affinity on this safari for animals when they were spotted with their young. Juma had told her that wildebeest calves were precocious: running （and running fast） within weeks of their birth. They had to be quick learners if they wanted to live. Her kid? Lord, it would be months before he or she would be crawling. A year or so before walking. And running? She had no idea when toddlers began running.
She jumped when she felt something on her hips before realizing that it was but Billy’s hands.
“You scared me,” she told him. He lifted her down from the chair to the canvas.
“I’m sorry. But your bottom was irresistible. I hope you never return to nightgowns when we’re back in L.A.”
“There are wildebeest just outside the tent. They’re within feet of us. Stand on the chair and peek.”
“I thought I heard them,” he said. He was sleeping in underwear and a T-shirt too, and she held the chair while he climbed onto it and glanced at them through the mesh. Then he hopped down.
“That’s it? You just needed a peek?” she asked.
“You sound disappointed in me.”
“Weren’t you amazed?”
He shrugged. “They were wildebeest, that’s all.”
“That’s all,” she said, mimicking him. She poked him in the side with two fingers.
“I guess I’ve become a junkie. A wildebeest doesn’t fly me to the moon anymore. I need lions.”
“And elephants.”
“Exactly.”
She shook her head. “How will you ever again bear the boredom of L.A.?”
“Oh, I have a feeling the kid will bring plenty of excitement into my world. I remember when Marc was a baby.”
“Babies aren’t exciting for men. I’m not sure they’re all that exciting for women. They’re messy and chaotic, but—”
“It will be fine. It will be wonderful.”
“Are you”—and she emphasized the word—“excited for today?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Even if you don’t get your lion fix?”
“Even if.”
“Don’t take this for granted, Billy. This is special.”
“I know.”
She couldn’t quite read his tone. If anyone understood the strange dynamics of a brother so thoroughly diminished by a younger sibling, it was Billy. He probably had patients in which he saw himself. Katie made more money than him （God, she made more money than everyone）， and she was certainly more famous than him （because he wasn’t famous at all）， and…
And there was nothing else in Hollywood. Nothing. There was only money and fame.
Katie had been the Stepanovs’ favorite child; now she was America’s favorite daughter.
“Just because it’s a gift from your little sister—” she continued, her plan to remind him that this was a moment that was singular and he should savor it. But he cut her off.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said. “I resent none of this.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad,” she said. She didn’t believe him, but she was pleased he was pretending to be content. That was half the battle.
From the other side of the tent she heard more rustling and for a moment imagined the wildebeest had moved toward the front of the camp. But then she heard a porter calling out, “Jambo, jambo!” and she knew the sounds were young men, and that their coffee had arrived.
* * *
.?.?.
Well, now. Billy had his excitement. They all did. And if he wanted inarguable cause for resentment, he had that, too.
For a moment the fellow with those blue eyes looked back at her from the doorway, and she wished he would shine his flashlight up again so she could see his face and try to gauge his intentions. The idea that he might rape her crossed her mind, and abruptly she felt her stomach turn and her body grew rigid.
“Tell me something,” he said.
“Yes?” She didn’t know what else to say. Did he know also about the wound on her stomach? Had the driver told him and it had just now dawned on him to ask?