"Betty, Shane Simba is back in the Masai Mara. He has consented to do a two part interview for the paper. It needs to be in depth. He will meet the reporter at Croc’s Bar & Grill at 7:00 pm. That’s the only place he’ll consent to do it. Only you can pull this off with expertise. Will you go?"
 

"Oh my God, Bob. Of course, I will. Don’t you dare send anyone else."

"Tonight then, Betty. Don’t forget."

....As if she ever could.

Paulette Poodle had given Betty Chimpo a priority appointment at  Beau Visage. Betty requested that only she do the styling. Betty arrived all out of breath and filled to bubbling with excitement. She sat in the chair in Paulette’s personal booth and described what she wanted.

"What’s going on, Betts? I’ve done your styling forever. I’ve never seen you this excited," asked Paulette.

"I am interviewing Shane Simba tonight for a big story in the Daily. I need to look drop dead gorgeous."

"Oh, I get it. I read your book. I’m sure you’ll want a pedicure, manicure and the full body works?"

"Oh, yes, Paulette. The full deal."

Betty clapped her hands with ill surpressed joy and then placed them in her lap quickly fearing she was making a fool of herself.

Lucy Cougar Simba was working her husband’s nerves.

"Lucy, this sex by number is horrific. I can’t rush home every time your temp spikes. It’s taking all the spice out of our sex life," complained Alexander Simba.

"I want to get pregnant, Alex."

"Lucy, your problem is not your fertility. It’s keeping the pregnancy in tact. You’ve always been able to get pregnant. Can’t we just drop the thermometer in the garbage and get back to doing it when we’re in the mood?"

"I feel that I won’t get pregnant again."

"If you’re wound tight as a clock, you probably won’t. I just am not into this type of sex, Lucy. Let’s cease and desist from the numbers game and get back to our normal modus operandi. I’m sure I’ll knock you up very soon now."

"Damn you, Alex. This is a very real thing for me," wailed Lucy, once again retreating out the door and to her parent’s home.

Alexander sighed, made a drink and checked his flowering plants. He relaxed on the back porch having fixed a second drink. After an hour, Lucy failed to come home. Alexander went to his bathroom and checked his mane in the mirror. It looked great. He went out the door and headed for the Watering Hole Pub. Even with the extra space added, the Pub still remained jam packed most nights. He bellied to the bar and ordered another drink. He looked to his left and saw a cheetah female that was the image of Shane’s dead wife. She caught his stare.

"Hello, there," she purred.

"Are you one of the Cheetah sisters? You look like my late sister-in-law."

"I’m Caroline Cheetah, Catherine’s sister and litter mate. And who might you be?"

"Alexander Simba," he said, holding a paw out.

She took it in hers. He noticed the lacquered claws.

"So am I finally meeting a Simba male that didn’t marry one of my sisters?" she laughed.

"I married Lucy Cougar."

"Oh, well....that’s different. You married money."

"But not for that reason."

"Was it love?"

"Yes, it was."

"Or should I ask, is it still love?"

"Of course."

"You seem defensive on that subject, Alexander."

"We’re hitting a few snags at the moment."

"Want to tell me about them? I have Scotch at my place."

First, Alexander called his house on his cell phone. No answer. Next, he phoned Sylvia and Bernard Cougar’s home. Lucy was there but refused to speak with him.

"So, where do you live, Caroline?"

"Follow me, Alexander."

Caroline meets Alexander Simba at the Watering Hole Pub.......

    They went in the elevator up to her elegant apartment in Lyon Towers. She fixed drinks which they took to her balcony with the spectacular view of the Mara sunset.

"Do you want to elaborate on your marital snags, Alexander?"

Caroline stepped toward him. She could see the brown flecks in his golden lion eyes.

"Not really. I think I’d prefer to do other things, Caroline."

"Such as?"

She had on a silk blouse which he unbuttoned methodically, pulling it to her waist. He then removed her bra and massaged her breasts. He kissed her very deeply. She reached and unbuckled his belt. They finished undressing in her bedroom. They made love repeatedly on her silk sheets.

Betty stood in Croc’s Bar & Grill. She was as nervous as a whore in church, her heart beating wildly. She fished in her purse for her press ID and found it. She asked Hippi Potomus, the owner, where Shane Simba was sitting. Hippi pointed to the deck. Betty thought her heart would still within her body. There he was, the waning light from the river outlining the magnificent profile. He was smoking a cigarette and with a drink before him. She stepped out to where he sat and stood before him, praying her knees wouldn’t buckle and plunge her to the floor. She held the press ID for him to see.

"Sit down, Betty."

"I want to tell you up front how sorry I am about everything and especially my b-book," she stammered.

"What does all that matter now? She’s gone and can’t be hurt anymore."

Betty could hardly keep her eyes off of him. She noticed the dark mane and then his eyes. His eyes, she felt, held the difference. They were filled with pain and what she decided was real suffering of an ongoing sort. Betty managed to ask him some questions regarding his work with the ministry of Botswana. The Bar & Grill began to fill with diners  and became noisy.

"We can’t talk here. Follow me to my place," he instructed.

She drove behind him back to his home on State House Road. They were greeted by his son, Sean, first and then Staci. Staci had grown. She had the long limbed and graceful look of the pure cheetah. She was a young version of her mother.

"This is Betty Chimpo. She’s doing a story for the newspaper. She’s also the mother of your cousins, Joshua and Jason Simba," introduced Shane.

"Daddy, I’m going to do my assignment. Nice to meet you, Ms. Chimpo," said Staci, politely.

The house boy, who followed from Botswana because of the love of this family, brought them drinks. Betty lit a cigarette and looked around the room. There were framed photographs everywhere. There were the children and Shane with various dignitaries but none of Catherine. His sharp eyes caught her scanning the pictures.

"I know you to be a smart and very observant female, Betty. I notice your noticing that there are no pictures of her."

"Why is that, Shane?"

"Simply because I can’t look at them yet. Seeing my daughter, who is her image, is hard enough. I hope someday I’ll be able to bring them out. For the time being, the pain is too great."

"Shane, I don’t believe Catherine would have ever been happy with anyone but you. Cynthia Cheetah has even told me this."

He held his paws in front of him in a defensive stance.

"Please. I can’t say her name yet......nor hear it from others. But you are very kind in saying this. She told me the same thing.....that I was the only one she ever could love."

He abruptly changed the subject and they talked some more of his work in Botswana and then he rose from the chair.

"Betty, I have to see my children to bed now. I will call the paper and arrange the second part of this interview in a few days. By the way, I hear Sam won’t let you see Josh and Jason. Tookie told me this."

"No, he won’t. I suppose he has every right but it’s very hurtful not to see my sons. I only have Arlon now."

"I can’t imagine being denied one’s children. It must be very painful."

He walked with her to the door, never touching her in any way.

    When she let herself in her house, she almost collapsed from pent up emotion. She made a drink and took it to her sun porch. Betty realized that the purely physical obsession she had felt for Shane Simba had been replaced by something more profound. She wanted his happiness. She wanted his children to be happy too. She loved this lion and would wait forever to share even the most miniscule part of his life. She wanted nothing more than to love him and have him return that love in some measure. She would devote the rest of her life to him in any capacity he would accept. With that resolution in place, she went to bed and slept soundly waking only to the sound of the morning birds in her garden.

Alexander Simba came home at a very late hour after his assignation with Caroline Cheetah. He found his wife, Lucy, sitting in bed with the lamp on.

"Where have you been, Alex?"

"I might ask you this, Lucy. The answer to any argument we might have is your retreat to your parent’s home. You refused to speak with me there, so I went to the pub for a drink......oh, let’s just say, many drinks."

"Do I smell perfume?" she asked, leaping from the bed and taking a sniff of his shirt.

"Lots of females were in the pub. They always are."

"Did you make love to any of them, Alex? I want to know."

"I probably just got their perfume on me by standing near them."

"How near DID you stand, Alex."

Alexander’s answer was to pick up his young wife, throw her on the bed, remove her clothes and make love to her the rest of the night. At least the questions stopped. He was grateful for that.