Sweetheart

By David Blome

Cristina stared at the puppy her husband was holding. “Is it a he or a she?”
“A she,” Mike said. “What d’you think?”
“She looks evil.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry. It’s the eyes. What color are they?”
“Amber, I think. They go good with the brindle coat.”
“Brindle?”
Mike nodded.
“That’s what you call the tiger stripes?” Cristina said.
“Uh-huh.” Mike pulled on the puppy’s cheek then jerked his hand away, “Ow, shit.”
“My God, did she bite you?”
“Yeah.” Mike set the puppy on the kitchen floor and looked at his hand.
“You’re bleeding,” Cristina said.
“It’s fine,” Mike said, wiggling his fingers. “She was just playing. Can you get me something?”
Cristina pulled a dishtowel off the oven door handle. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Mike said. He took the towel and pressed it to his hand. “Wow, those teeth are sharp.”
“Mike, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, a pit bull?”
“Do you wanna learn how to shoot?”
“No. You know I hate those damn guns.”
“Then meet your new home security system.”
Cristina sighed. “What are you going to call her?”
Mike grinned. “Sweetheart.”

Five months after Sweetheart joined the family, Cristina and Mike welcomed their first child into the world. Nine months after that, during a checkup at the vet, Sweetheart tipped the scales at forty-three pounds.
“Is she gonna get any bigger?” Cristina said to Mike. They were sitting at the kitchen table. Mike shrugged. He was watching Sweetheart eat. Cristina stood up. “I can barely control her on the leash,” she said.
“We’re still working on that,” Mike said. “Aren’t we, girl?”  Sweetheart looked up at Mike. “Speak,” he said. Sweetheart barked.
“Mike, Rosalita’s sleeping.”
“Oh, forgot. Sorry.” Mike scratched his face. “The vet said she’s done growing.”
“Thank God. She’s huge.”
“She’s jacked.” Mike leaned forward and started rubbing Sweetheart’s shoulders. “Look at these muscles.”
“I know, Mike, she’s a little scary.”
“But she’s gonna protect my girls.” Mike gripped Sweetheart’s cheek. “Aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Sweetheart licked his hand.
Six months later Mike deployed to Iraq. In years past, Cristina stayed with her family when Mike went overseas, but Cristina’s mother had become ill and Mike’s family lived too far away to help. With no support from her dad or anyone else, Cristina took care of Rosalita, the house, and Sweetheart.
One afternoon, two weeks after Mike left, Cristina found Sweetheart whining by the door to the garage.
“He’s not coming, Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart looked at Cristina.
“I wish you could understand. Do you want to go for a walk later?” Sweetheart tilted her head. Cristina smiled. “All right, we’ll go for a walk.”
In the living room Rosalita rattled a plastic bumble bee. Sweetheart turned from the door and walked to where Rosalita was playing on the floor. Rosalita held out the toy for Sweetheart and gave it a shake. Sweetheart licked her hand. Rosalita shook the toy again. Sweetheart licked her hand again. Then her arm. Then her face. Rosalita squealed with delight.
That evening, Cristina took everyone for a walk around the neighborhood. Sweetheart led the way careful not to pull on the leash. Every couple of minutes she looked back at the stroller and Cristina. Cristina looped the leash around the stroller’s handle and checked her phone. Still nothing from Mike. It’s never taken him this long to call, she thought.
She put the phone back in her pocket, looked at Sweetheart, and smiled. “Yeah,” she said, thinking of Mike, “look at those muscles.” Cristina had to admit that she loved the way they rippled when Sweetheart walked. “They’re a work of art,” she said. “And those eyes almost glow.”
When Cristina looked up she saw a man walking a beagle in her direction. She gripped Sweetheart’s leash, pushed the stroller to the edge of the sidewalk, and stopped. The man stepped off the sidewalk and stood in front of his dog.
“Hey,” Cristina said, “you can go ahead.”
The man just stared at Sweetheart.
“It’s okay, I got her.” Cristina held up the leash.
The man looked at Cristina then at Sweetheart then at Cristina again.
“You go, thank you,” he said.
Cristina shrugged. “Okay.” She took a few steps with the stroller then stopped. The man was still looking at her and Sweetheart. Cristina met his gaze. “Is it the muscles or the eyes?” she said.
“Beg your pardon,” the man said, shifting on his feet.
Cristina pulled Sweetheart to her side. “The muscles or the eyes. What makes you uncomfortable about her?”
The man adjusted the leash in his hand. He took a step back, looked at Sweetheart, and cleared his throat.
“Her general appearance makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like those dogs.”
Sweetheart, still standing, was glaring at the beagle.
“But since you asked, yes, those eyes are demonic.”
Cristina frowned. “I was just wondering.” She started pushing the stroller again.
The man sighed. “Do you let people pet her?” he said.
“No one’s ever asked,” Cristina said without looking back. She took another fifteen steps then stopped again. “Come here, Sweetheart,” she said in a low voice. “Sit.” Sweetheart sat. Cristina held out a treat. “You’re a good dog.”
That night it stormed. Cristina put Rosalita to bed, made herself some tea, and walked into the living room. She kicked a few toys out of the way and sank into the sofa. Sweetheart sat by her feet. Cristina sipped her tea and shut her eyes. She was thinking of Mike when a flash of lightning lit up the room. The thunder that followed startled her and she reached for Sweetheart.
“It’s okay,” she said, stroking Sweetheart’s side.
Sweetheart stood up and faced Cristina.
Cristina sat back. “You’re not afraid, are you?” Sweetheart’s tail was wagging. “Well, I’m not either.” Cristina sipped her tea. “Just stay near me tonight, okay?” Sweetheart’s ears perked up. Cristina smiled. “Thanks.”
The next morning Mike called while Cristina was still eating breakfast. She hurried to finish her toast before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey babe.”
“Hey!”
“How’s everything?”
Cristina looked at the scatter of toys in the living room.
“Okay, I think.”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, no, we’re fine. This is all just new to me.”
“It’s new to me too.”
“What is?”
“Being away. From you, Rosalita, the dog. I miss all my girls.”
Cristina nodded.
“Has Sweetheart been good?”
“Yeah.”
“Honest?”
“For the most part. She misses you.”
“How can you tell?”
“She whines at the garage door. I’m assuming it’s for you.”
“Oh. What’s she doing now?”
“She’s in the yard.”
“Out back?”
“Yeah, where else?”
“Is the gate locked?”
Cristina laughed. “Of course. What do you think I’d leave it open?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m just worried she’ll run off.”
“Why would she do that?”
“What, run off?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know, to go exploring or something.”
“But she’d come back, right?”
“If she didn’t get herself into trouble.”
Trouble? Cristina thought. What kind of trouble? “I’ll make sure the gate stays locked.”
“I know, thanks. Has she been good on the leash?”
“She has.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So you two are pals now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. She’s been good with Rosalita.”
“You were worried about that. Not anymore?”
“No, I like having Sweetheart around.”
“You feel safe with her?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Told you.”
Cristina shook her head. “How long do we have to talk?” she said.
“Just a minute or two. Is Rosalita awake?”
“Not yet but I can wake her.”
“Never wake a sleeping baby. That’s what your dad says.”
“Well, she’s really not a baby anyone. And it’s not a problem. I’ll get her.”
“No, don’t. I can call back in a few hours.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we’re pretty much settled now. I can start calling more often.”
“Can I call you if I need something?”
“No, but call the command, remember? They’ll find me for you.”
“I thought that was just for serious stuff.”
“Say it’s a family emergency. You don’t need to go into details.”
“Okay.”
“But if you need anything else call Donnie. He’s around. You still have his number?”
“It’s on the fridge.”
“Good. All right, I have to go. I’ll call soon though.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too. Give my girls kisses.”
“I’ll give Rosalita kisses. Sweetheart can have a treat.”
“Fair enough.”
Cristina hung up the phone and cleared the table. At the sink she looked through the kitchen window at Sweetheart who was lying on her side in the grass, panting. Cristina smiled.
When Rosalita woke up, Sweetheart trotted to the back door and started barking. Cristina turned off the monitor, took Rosalita out of the crib, then let Sweetheart into the house.
“Who’s that?” Cristina said, pointing to Sweetheart.
“See-har,” Rosalita said, squirming to get out of her mother’s arms.
Sweetheart barked and Cristina set Rosalita down on the kitchen floor. Rosalita held on to her mother’s leg and giggled while Sweetheart licked her arm and face.
“See-har lick me, Momma.”
“I know, baby,” Cristina said. Sweetheart inched closer to Rosalita and kept licking, knocking the child off balance. Rosalita held up her arm in defense.
“Sweetheart, stop that,” Cristina said. She pushed Sweetheart’s head away. Sweetheart kept at it. Cristina pushed her head again. When she did Sweetheart bit her hand.
Cristina jerked her hand back and screamed. Sweetheart cowered in place. Rosalita started crying. Cristina pointed to the back door and looked for something to throw. “Get out of this house right now!” Sweetheart ran out of the kitchen and stood by the door to the garage.
“Fine, get out.” Cristina opened the door. By the time she realized the garage was open, Sweetheart was out of sight. Cristina thought to call for her but Rosalita was still crying. She left the door open and walked back into the kitchen to pick up her daughter. Before reaching for Rosalita, Cristina checked her hand. She saw teeth marks and some broken skin but no blood. She wiggled her fingers and felt no pain. Then she looked at her sobbing daughter.
“It’s okay,” she whispered as she lifted Rosalita into her arms. She pressed the child’s head into her shoulder. “Shhh, it’s all right. Mommy was a little scared, that’s all. It’s okay now.” Cristina walked back to the open door. She expected to see Sweetheart in the garage but instead saw nothing. She stepped into the garage and closed the door behind her. Still carrying Rosalita she walked into the driveway and called for Sweetheart. She walked across the front yard and looked at the front porch.
“Oh no,” she said. Her chest started to heave.
By now Rosalita had stopped sobbing. She followed her mother’s gaze. “See-har, we are you?”
Cristina set Rosalita down in the grass. “She’ll come back,” Cristina said. Rosalita looked at her mother and held up a hand. “Where she go?”
“I don’t know, baby. But she’ll come back.” I need to call Mike, she thought.
“C’mon, let’s go inside.” Cristina took Rosalita’s hand. They walked into the garage and back into the house. Cristina shut the door and checked her watch. Almost nine. Cristina looked at Rosalita.
“She’ll be back soon.”
“See-har come back?”
“She’ll come back. Maybe not right away, but we’ll find her. She has her collar on.” Cristina checked the garage again. Then she walked into the living room and sat down at the computer. “I have to let Mike know,” she said.
She opened her email and replied to Mike’s most recent message. Hey, I know we just talked but can you call? It’s not an emergency or anything and I don’t want you to worry but call when you can. Cristina. God, he’s gonna worry. She hit Send.
After that she waited. At first she sat at the desk chair staring at the computer screen. Then at the kitchen table, staring at the door to the garage. Then holding Rosalita. She checked her email again. Nothing from Mike. Nothing from anyone. She called her dad. No one answered. She left a message, trying not to sound upset. Then she called the vet.
“Thanks for letting us know,” the receptionist said. “We’ll call you if someone reports her. Call us tomorrow if she doesn’t come back.”
“Okay,” Cristina said and hung up.
No one called for the rest of the day. That evening, Cristina closed the garage, locked all the doors in the house, and for the first time since Mike left, checked the windows. She had to lock a few of them. After that, she put Rosalita to bed, checked her email again, then sat in the living room underneath a blanket.
When she woke on the couch it was still dark. She walked to the kitchen window and looked into the back yard. “No, the gate was locked,” she said, shaking her head. She walked to the door to the garage and started to unlock it before remembering that she had closed the garage the night before. At the front door she unlocked the deadbolt then paused. Instead of opening the door, she put her ear to the handle and said, “Sweetheart, are you there?” Cristina held her breath. “Sweetheart?” She relocked the deadbolt.
From the front window Cristina scanned the yard. “We’ll find you when the sun comes up,” she said. Then she walked to the kitchen and made coffee. When Rosalita woke, Cristina loader her in the car seat and drove around the neighborhood. She rolled down the windows to listen for Sweetheart’s collar. “I should’ve looked for her yesterday,” she kept saying.
After twenty-five minutes she gave up and drove home. Back in the kitchen, Cristina sat at the kitchen table and called the vet while Rosalita clung to her leg. “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said, “we haven’t heard anything.” Cristina thanked the woman and hung up. She played with Rosalita’s hair and stared at the phone. “Why hasn’t Mike called?” she said. “Rosalita, baby, let Mommy get up.”
Cristina checked her email one last time then walked to the refrigerator and dialed Mike’s command. After three rings a deep voice answered. “Fifth Marines, Corporal Marks speaking, how may I help you, sir or ma’am.”
“Um, hello, I’m trying to contact my husband’s command.”
“What’s your husband’s command?”
“First Battalion, Fifth Marine Regiment.”
“First Battalion is currently deployed, ma’am.”
“Yes, I know, it’s an emergency. Is there someone I can talk to?”
“What’s your husband’s name?”
“Staff Sergeant Michael Toledo. He’s with Alpha Company.”
“And you said it’s an emergency?”
“Yes, a family emergency. I need someone to call him.”
“Have you called the police?”
“It’s not like that. I emailed him to call me a while ago but I haven’t heard back from him.”
“Can you hold on, ma’am?”
“Sure,” Cristina said.
The phone went silent. Cristina walked to the kitchen window and stared into the back yard. She waited about three minutes until a different voice spoke through the phone.
“Is this Mrs. Toledo?”
“Yes.” Cristina sat back down at the kitchen table.
“This is Captain Snyder. I understand you have a family emergency on your hands. Can you tell me what happened?”
Cristina told Captain Snyder what happened. She told him everything, how her mother was sick and how no one else could help because they lived too far away. She told him how Sweetheart was supposed to keep everyone safe while her husband was deployed. How no one could help find Sweetheart or call or return emails. How her husband said to call for family emergencies and how this was a family emergency.
“Can you please call him?”
About ten seconds passed.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to hear all that, but a lost dog isn’t a family emergency.”
Cristina closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She was pulling at her hair when Captain Snyder cleared his throat. “Do you know what platoon he’s with?” he said.
Cristina sniffed. “Alpha Company, First Platoon.”
“Alpha Company, First Platoon. Okay. I can email his company commander.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll say Staff Sergeant Toledo in First Platoon needs to call his wife, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll email him, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
“I understand.”
“Those guys are pretty busy.”
“I just need him to call me.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“Thank you.”
“Out.”
Cristina hung up, set the phone on the table, and walked to the living room to sit with Rosalita. About twenty minutes later her phone rang.
“That was quick,” Cristina said as she jumped to her feet and ran into the kitchen. She snatched the phone from the table and answered it without looking at the number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Donna calling from the Oceanside Animal Hospital. May I speak with Michael or Cristina Toledo?”
“This is Cristina.”
“Cristina Toledo? The owner of Sweetheart?”
“Yes. Did someone find her?”
“Uh, yes.”
“They did? Where is she?”
“Mrs. Toledo, you may want to sit down.”

The next day Cristina sat at the kitchen table holding Rosalita. With each thump of the shovel Cristina winced. Donnie had been digging in the back yard for at least a half hour. She needed him to finish.
Cristina stroked her daughter’s hair. “Rosalita,” she whispered, “can you play?”
“No.”
Cristina closed her eyes and sighed.
“Please, sweetie. I need to talk to Daddy’s friend.”
Rosalita frowned, slid out of her mother’s lap, and waddled to her toys in the living room. Cristina walked to the kitchen window and looked into the back yard.
Donnie was standing beside the pile of dirt he had just dug. Sweat dripped from his chin.  He wiped his face and spit. Then he set the shovel down and looked at the kitchen window. Donnie wiped his face again, looked around the yard, and started walking toward the house. When Cristina opened the back door, he took a step back.
“I’m almost done,” he said in a low voice. “Maybe another fifteen minutes.”
Cristina nodded and looked at the pile of dirt in the yard. “Take your time,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Do you need anything?”
Donnie looked away. “No.”
Cristina closed the door and walked to Rosalita in the living room. She sat on the floor with her back to the kitchen.
“Can I help you make something?” she said to Rosalita, her voice trembling.
Rosalita eyed her mother for a few seconds then handed her a wooden spoon.
Cristina heard Donnie open the back door and step into the house. She turned to face him. Donnie looked at Rosalita then at Cristina. “Can I bring her through the house?” he said.
Cristina nodded. “You’ll have to.”
Donnie closed the back door and walked into the garage. About three minutes later, Cristina heard him shut the car trunk. She pulled Rosalita into her lap, blocking the child’s view of the kitchen. Donnie reentered the house carrying Sweetheart. Cristina listened to him struggle to open the back door. She closed her eyes, squeezed Rosalita to her chest, and held back her tears.
Then she remembered. The day before she had gathered a bag of things she wanted buried with Sweetheart. A chew toy made of rope, a ball, two dog biscuits. She put Rosalita on the floor and grabbed the bag from underneath the kitchen table. When she swung the back door open, she saw Donnie wrapping Sweetheart in a blue tarp.
“Here, please,” Cristina said, looking away. “These have to go with her.” She dropped the bag at her feet and went back into the house. Donnie waited for her to close the door before retrieving the bag. It took him another twenty minutes to finish the burial and clean up.
When he stepped through the back door, Cristina was sitting in the living room with Rosalita. She had her back to the kitchen again. “Cristina?” he said. Cristina shook her head.
“It’s done.”
Cristina nodded.
“Call me if you need anything,” Donnie said. “I’m sorry.” After he left, Cristina walked to the kitchen window and stared at the patch of dirt in the back yard. “She loved lying there,” Cristina said. She wiped her eyes then lowered and closed the blinds.
Later that evening, after Rosalita had gone to bed, Cristina’s phone rang. The long string of numbers told her it was Mike. She let it ring. He called again. Cristina closed her eyes and waited for the ringing to stop. About thirty seconds passed. He called again. This time Cristina picked up the phone but said nothing.
“Hello?” Mike said. “Cristina, are you there?”
Cristina sighed. “I’m here, Mike.”
“Babe…what happened?”

****

David Blome is a combat veteran of the US Marine Corps who earned a PhD in history and taught at Stanford University before leaving academia for a career in urban education. He began writing fiction in 2019 after publishing a book on the ancient Greeks. To date, his work has appeared in As You Were and The Penman Review.