Cat Burglars
or so.
The next time I stopped by Abigail was in the yard doing jump squats. She didn’t seem to care if anyone watched. Her legs were sculpted with muscle.
“Not too many rocks to climb here I guess,” I said.
She stopped jumping and squatting.
“There’s a place with a wall I’ve been to a couple of times.”
The driveway was empty. She probably walked or took the bus everywhere.
“Your girl in school?”
She nodded. “Kindergarten.”
“You need me to do anything?” If I were nice I’d offer to take her to the grocery store or something.
She looked my muffler shop shirt over. “Come inside,” she said.

I thought she’d need a leaky faucet adjusted or something but she had me sit at the kitchen table and brought me a glass of water. Then she got out flour and eggs and some other shit and a mixing bowl and started baking right there in front of me. I looked around the place trying to ignore her legs and waited for her to ask me to fix something, but everything looked to be in order. Framed pictures of her and the girl. No man in sight. She slipped a muffin pan in the oven and sat in the other chair across from me. Faint traffic noise through the window.
“Abner didn’t say a thing but I’ve figured out that you guys worked together,” she said.
I started looking around for something stronger to drink. “Is water all you have?” I said.
“It’s better for you.”
“Not always.”
“I can climb better than him.”
I looked at her like the dumbest person in the world.
“Do you need money?” I asked, not knowing where to settle my eyes.
“I need something to do.” she was looking right at me, dead serious.
“Your daughter. She needs you,” I said. “You can’t afford to do any time. None.”
She stood, took my hand, and led me into her bedroom like a puppy.
When her legs finally unwrapped from around me the muffins were ready. Concentrating on the baking smell was the only thing that kept me strong during that time in her bed. I marveled at her ass when she walked into the kitchen. Twenty minutes later I was out the door with a paper bag of muffins in my hand.
I drove through the parking lot behind the vet’s office and scanned the set-up, light-headed and questioning my existence. I pulled into the