We started out in silence. It was an easy silence until maybe a couple blocks later, when Chloe knelt down to retie one of her shoelaces. I stopped and waited, keeping one eye on her and another out for Chucky, who had leapt into the bushes after who-knows-what.
I couldn’t see him. But I could hear him, rooting around in the fallen leaves. From somewhere up the sidewalk, I heard footsteps. I turned to look. Coming toward us, I spotted a grey-haired couple walking hand-in-hand. They wore slacks and windbreakers, not matching, but close enough.
At the sight of me, the husband hesitated. He glanced down at his wife and whispered something that I couldn’t make out. She stopped in mid-stride and glanced around, as if looking for the best escape route, or maybe just a friendly cop.
I'd seen that look before.
It suddenly hit me that I'd been distracted when I'd gotten dressed. I was wearing a basic T-shirt and faded jeans, tattered and worn. Some people paid hundreds, maybe thousands, of dollars for that kind of look. But these jeans, they weren't like that. They were the real deal, remnants of earlier days when I couldn’t afford better.
It was a stupid choice, all things considered. My size, my tattoos, my cheap-ass tattered clothes, they weren't the kinds of things you saw in a place like this. Once again, I didn't exactly blend.
Beside me, Chloe finished tying her lace and stood. She looked toward the bushes, where Chucky was still rustling around for who-knows-what. "Hey, Chucky!" she said. "Look! A squirrel!"
Chucky bounded out of the bushes like he'd understood exactly what she'd said. He looked around, and sure enough, spotted a squirrel running up a nearby tree. The dog went nuts, yapping his head off until the squirrel leapt into a neighboring tree and disappeared from sight.
Next to me, Chloe was laughing. "Good dog." She knelt down to ruffle his fur. "You scared the pants off him. I could tell." She looked up, meeting my gaze. "I think someone deserves a treat, don't you?" She looked down at Chucky and asked, "Who's a good dog?"
From the look on Chucky's face, he knew the answer. He was.
I had to smile. Good, huh? That was debatable. But he was cute as hell and damn entertaining.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the treats. I held the bag out toward Chloe. "You wanna do it?"
"I'd better." She gave the dog an indulgent smile. "If I’m not careful, he's gonna likeyoumore than he likes me." She took the bag from my hand. Still crouching, she shook a few treats onto her open palm. One by one, she tossed them to Chucky, who caught them in the air and gulped them down fast.
On the sidewalk ahead, I caught movement. I looked up to see the same couple, closer now. But this time, their strides were easy, and their faces were relaxed.
When they reached us, they stopped. The woman smiled down at Chloe, who was still crouching with the terrier. "Cute dog," the woman said. "A Yorkie, right?"
"Yup." Chloe smiled up at her. "But he's still kind of a puppy."
The guy, looking easy and relaxed, wrapped an arm around his wife. "Yeah? How old?"
Chloe gave them a sheepish grin. "Um, three years, I think."
The couple laughed. So did I. A few minutes later, they were on their way. We'd actually talked about the weather. Well, that was a first.
Walking again, I looked over at Chloe. She wore khaki slacks and a pink button-up sweater with little pearl buttons. I wasn't into brand names, but I knew quality when I saw it. Even the dog was designer.
With her rich clothes and rich dog, she was exactly the kind of person that people in my old neighborhood would have hated. I frowned, thinking of what they might do to someone like her – a beautiful girl with plenty of money and zero street-smarts.
If she was lucky, she'd only get robbed. Then again, luck was a rare commodity where I'd grown up. At the thought of Chloe in a place like that, I felt my fingers tense, itching for a fight.
I liked her. I might even love her, as crazy as that sounded. And if anything happened to her, I didn't think I could stand it.
In life, not a lot scared me. But that did. If I wasn't careful, I'd scare her, too. So, walking beside her, I worked to keep it casual. I said, "I always wanted a dog."
She turned her head to look at me. "Really? Then why don't you have one?"
I shrugged. "Too hard to take care of."
"Oh c'mon," she said, "they're not that hard. Besides, you're great with dogs."
"Yeah, but I'm gone a lot."
"You're not gonethatmuch," she said. "I see you around here all the time. Like almost every day."
So she'd noticed? I felt myself smile. "Yeah? You been watching for me?"
