Top Dog

“Ready to go?” Abigail asked.

“I don’t have a choice in the matter,” I said, tightly. “Let’s get this day over with though. I don’t want to be out walking around in the streets at dark.”

Libby sighed dramatically. “Whatever. I’m going out with Roco tonight then if you’re going to do that.”

My tense mood only increased. I didn’t even bother arguing with Libby over it throughout the hot afternoon of following them around Madrid for lunch, sightseeing, and a bit of shopping. Throughout the entire time, Abigail walked alongside me. She touched me occasionally on the shoulder to point something out, or our hands brushed while we walked. All of it was driving me insane that I desperately considered leaving them alone in a shop to find a bathroom to release myself for what felt like the twentieth time that week.

I was relieved when Abigail asked to go back to the hotel later that evening. I sat out on the back balcony with a cigarette in hand to keep myself calm while I half-listened to Libby chatter away about her plans for the night. It wasn’t until the sun had left the sky followed by the moon and stars when I heard the patter of bare feet on the patio floor.

I turned to find Abigail standing behind me with a case of beer in hand. She tucked a curl behind her ear shyly.

“I thought you might want to have a beer with me.”

More than that. I swallowed hard at the sight of her bare legs since she was still wearing that fluttery polka dot skirt and a tank top. The smell of sugar and vanilla washed over me as Abigail took a seat gingerly across from me. She held out a beer.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it against my better judgment that said not to take it. We were treading in dangerous water. “Did Libby leave with her Roco?”

“Yes,” she said and twisted her beer open. “They are going to some sort of nightclub together from what she told me.”

I didn’t say anything. I knew Robert would be pissed that I let Libby go, but she was experienced at least with men, unlike Abigail. She knew how to handle herself. Plus, I was over Libby’s snarky attitude and constant remarks.

“I bet she’s happy,” I said, sipping at the cold beer with a relieved sigh. “She’s been itching to go without me behind her.”

Abigail laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. Libby has always been the social one in our friendship. I personally don’t like the nightlife. Believe it or not, I prefer the sit at home and read type of nights.”

“And you let her drag you out to Madrid?”

“I didn’t let her drag me. I came willingly.” She played with the neck of her beer bottle, her eyes filled with a desire I couldn’t seem to ignore. “I just wanted to get away from my Dad’s shadow. I’ve been in it since the day I was born.”

“His shadow stretches far,” I said, grimly. “He’s had hits on him a couple of times when I was over in Iraq.”

“Not surprising considering who he puts away for a living.” She smiled grimly as well. “Do you think if your mom wouldn’t have gotten sick that you’d still be over there now?”

I found my eyes going to the last name on my forearm again whenever someone asked that question. I had to shut down those last images before they could overwhelm me by concentrating on the hot air around me.

“I don’t know. I doubt it. Too much death,” I echoed my sentiment again. “I came back because I was tired of watching my friends die in missions. There’s only so much you can take. My mom’s situation just escalated the decision to come back now.”

“And those names on your arm were your friends?”

I nodded. “Yes. You get close to your brothers because they’ll jump in front of the enemy fire for you.”

“Wow,” Abigail said. “I can’t even imagine that type of loyalty or situation in general.”

“You don’t have to imagine it,” I said, and pride filled me. “That’s what people like me were trained to do.”

“That is true. I’m grateful for that. I hate guns.” Her face contorted slightly. “So you live in Queens with your Mom?”

“Part-time,” I replied, and took a long drink. “I never bought a house because I was gone all the time. When I came home for breaks, I stayed with my Mom, and helped her out when I was around.”

“Just you and her?”

“Just me and her,” I said.

“What kind of cancer does she have, if it’s okay to ask?” She looked so sweet, so innocent sitting there as she dug into the hardest parts of my heart.

“Stage two breast cancer.” I shrugged. “Her sickness is one of the reasons why I took this job. The money will pay for her treatments and a new house too.”

Abigail smiled sweetly. “That’s very sweet of you to do that for your Mom.”