Page 24 of Property of Quake

“I don’t have much fuc—” Quake slams his mouth shut when Melissa steps in behind me. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were bringing a friend.”

His obvious discomfort amuses me. The last time he was here, he made it abundantly clear that he isn’t inclined to change his language just because I’m a nun. I guess he doesn’t have the same problem doing it for children.

“This is Melissa,” I tell him, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Melissa, this is Mr…” He glares at me. “Quake. This is Quake.”

He watches her for a few seconds, and then his expression softens. Crouching down in front of her, he smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you, Melissa,” he says quietly.

Bless her, she studies him as he did her before tilting her head back to look at me. “I think you’re right. It’s a good thing I’m here because he doesn’t look very smart.”

I cough to cover up my mirth while Quake doesn’t bother. He throws his head back and laughs.

“I think what she’s trying to say is that I asked her to help us because she’s so smart,” I say, my lips quivering from trying to remain composed.

“Nah.” Quake ruffles her hair as he stands. “She was very polite about it, but she meant that I look stupid.” He smiles at her reassuringly. “And you’re right. I do look dumb to some people, but I promise, I’m not.”

I glance at her, and she screws up her face in consternation. “I’m sorry. My mom always tells me to think before I speak. I forgot.”

As if her words are just registering, Melissa promptly bursts into tears. I’m taken aback, but not Quake. He quickly kneels back down and rests a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, honey,” he says, his tone soothing. “You cry all you want.”

Thoughts of her mom seem to have opened the floodgates. One minute, she’s trying to be brave, and the next, her tears are uncontrollable.

“I f-forgot,” Melissa sobs. “I f-f-forgot she’s d-dead.”

Quake spares me a quick glance before focusing entirely on her. “I bet she’s watching over you, and you know what?”

“W-what?”

“I imagine she’s not mad that you said what’s on your mind. I’m guessing she’s pretty proud of you for that.”

Who is this man?

“What about m-my d-dad?” she hiccups.

“Your dad, too,” Quake assures her.

“I miss them. And Stella.”

At the mention of her dog, my heart bleeds. I’ve spoken to a few of the shelters, as well as the police, and no one has seen Stella. Sister Mary Jane and I even put up fliers near the area of the accident, but we haven’t heard anything.

I quickly and quietly relay this information to Quake as he hugs Melissa.

“What kind of dog is Stella?” he asks her once her sobs slow and she steps out of his embrace.

Melissa immediately launches into a description of floppy ears, white paws with nails she painted pink, and a matching pink collar covered with tiny cherries. By the time she’s finished, her eyes are a little clearer, and the tears have dried up.

“She sounds like a good dog.”

“She’s the best.”

Quake nods solemnly as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Do you have a picture of her?”

Melissa glances at me, and I nod. “Yes,” I reply, grabbing the folder from the filing cabinet that has all of Melissa’s information in it, as well as copies of the flyer for Stella.

I hand him a flyer, and he grins. “She really has pink nails,” he says with a chuckle.