“An old lady now, Abby, are you?” I smiled, remembering that Christmas when Dad had given mom a tiny pup as present…
I was sixteen then, thinking it would be cool if we had some kind of pet at home.
Something to bring joy to our parents, not just disappointment. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one thinking that. Dad had deliberated for a long time before eventually settling on a puppy. A little golden retriever.
That’s how Abby came into my parents’ lives and became an instant favorite, a ray of sunshine that brightened all the hardships and sorrows that my family had to
endure. Nothing could make my parents mad at her, not even a ruined couch and chewed-up shoes.
“How’s college going? ” a voice came from the depths of the kitchen. I walked over and leaned against the kitchen door, watching Mom skillfully plate up.
“Everything’s fine. Although, today I skipped a few classes,” I was careful to stress the fact that skipping classes was not a regular thing for me. Mom looked at me disapprovingly and tutted.
“Oh, come on, mom, you skip too,” I grinned.
“I don’t skip. I have a day off. And you? Overworking yourself, huh? Poor thing…”
“No. Sabrina wasn’t feeling well, so I drove her home.”
I saw those words had an effect on mom. She turned sharply and stared, waiting for explanation which I was purposely delaying.
“What…” she didn’t finish, as Abby rushed to the front door, barking madly and jumping around.
“Dad’s here,” Mom said, thrusting a towel into my hands and rushing to open the door.
“Hey, darling,” I heard Dad’s cheerful voice and went to greet him.
“Hey, son,” Dad’s eyes swept over me disapprovingly. He never liked my way of expressing myself, nor my lifestyle, but has apparently accepted it and no longer voiced his opinions out loud. I furrowed my eyebrows returning his gaze.
Before me stood the same tall, broad-shouldered man with a shock of half-gray hair, a little too luscious for a male; the same mustache, same piercing green eyes, and a huge beer belly. Dad was clearly uncomfortable under my scrutinizing gaze and waived his hand dismissively as he handed mom his coat and made his way to the living room, clutching onto his briefcase.
“Hi, Dad. Nice to see you too,” I addressed Dad’s back.
“How was London?” Mom asked dad, and I stared at her in surprise. She hadn’t said a word about Dad going to London.
“London… it’s all the same, nothing ever changes in Great Britain,” Dad chuckled as he settled into his favorite leather armchair by the fireplace.
“Well then, wash your hands and let’s get to the table,” Mom sang, turning me around and nudging me towards the bathroom as if I were a four-year-old.
I nestled in my favorite spot at the table, and Abby settled next to me, resting her big head on my knee.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” Dad said briskly, casting another glance at me. “I flew to London.”
“I figured that out already,” I replied, scooping a hefty portion of mashed potato onto my plate. “Just haven’t figured out why yet.”
“Carlos Wallace asked me to come,” Dad said.
If Carlos Wallace himself had asked my dad to fly to London, then it must have been serious.
“He found out that Marie is looking for her granddaughter and even sent Wallace a letter asking him to ‘bring the girl back home.’ ”
Mom and I exchanged astonished glance.
“No!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “The audacity! Sabrina should decide for herself what to do. And I doubt her decision will be in Marie’s favor.
