Page 10 of Protected from Torment

I’m not. But I’m also not getting into why I was limping. So instead, I say vaguely, “Oh, just tweaked my knee a little. But it’s fine.” Casting about for a change of topic, I add, “So, Oscar? Is that a dog, I assume?”

“Yes.” Her face lights up again. “Oscar’s my dog.” Waving at the seat across from her, she asks, “Do you want to join me? I’m still waiting for my food, but when the server comes back, you could order something.”

When I don’t move right away, she blushes. “Sorry. Never mind. I’m sure you have other⁠—”

“I don’t.” I slide into the empty chair. “And I’d like to join you for dinner. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

That shy smile curves her lips again. “I don’t mind. Or I wouldn’t have asked.”

I chuckle, and something loosens inside ‌me. “That’s fair. So. Oscar?”

“Oscar,” she affirms. “He’s a Golden Retriever. And he loves squirrels. He’s normally very well-behaved. But if a squirrel starts teasing him…” With a shake of her head, she continues, “I have a better harness for walking him now. So that helps.”

“Wait. The squirrels tease your dog?”

“Yes.” Melissa laughs. “It’s like they know he’s on a leash and can’t catch them, so they get all daring. Darting in front of Oscar, chittering at him, swishing their jaunty tails…”

“Their jaunty tails?”

Her smile expands into an outright grin. “Yes. Jaunty. Don’t you think that’s a good word to describe them?”

Now that she mentions it, it is. So I nod as I reply, “You’re right. It’s an excellent word.”

Melissa nods back. “I like the word. Jaunty. It’s fun to say. Like rutabaga or perplexing.”

I lean forward, intrigued. “What other words are fun to say?”

“Hmm.” Her forehead creases in thought. “Lollygag. Haberdashery.”

“How about malarkey?” I offer.

“Oh, that’s a good one. And—” Her phone buzzes, cutting her off. With a quick glance at the screen, she says, “Oh, sorry. Let me just check this real quick.”

While she’s looking at her phone, the server arrives with Melissa’s food—a burger and fries that look surprisingly good—and I order the same. Once the server’s gone, Melissa sets her phone back down and says, “Sorry. It was the dog hotel. They send a video every night, just so I can see how Oscar’s doing. I know he’s fine. But I’m kind of an overprotective dog mom. So I like to see for myself, anyway.”

“And is he okay?”

She smiles. “Yup. Perfectly fine.”

“That’s good.” The server comes back with my drink and sets it in front of me. Before she leaves again, I ask Melissa, “Do you want anything else? Beer? Wine? Cocktail?”

“Thanks, but that’s okay,” Melissa replies quickly. With a glance at her half-full glass, she adds, “I’m good with water.”

As soon as the server leaves again, I take a sip of beer and set the glass down. “So. Your dog is staying at a hotel. I guess that means you’re on your way somewhere?” I stop, then amend, “Well, you were on your way until the storm.”

She pops a fry in her mouth and swallows it before answering, “Yeah. I’m on my way to Lake Placid.”

“Do you live there? Or visiting?” A beat later, I realize how nosy that sounds. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m going to visit… well, family, of sorts. They’re not blood, but…” She shrugs.

“I get it.” And I do. My teammates at Blade and Arrow Security might not be blood, but they’re family. So are my old Green Beret teammates.

“What about you?” Melissa asks. “Visiting? Or headed home?”

“Visiting my parents in Saranac Lake,” I reply. “I live out in Oregon, actually. But I flew out to visit them, and after that, I’ll head to Vermont to visit with my old teammate.”

Melissa pauses with her fry halfway to her mouth. “Your teammate?”