Is this really family life/Является ли это действительно семейной жизни?

Chapter 12

Callen pulled up outside the cabin that had seen better days. He tried to get there at least twice a year, operations permitting. Finally having left the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) and having a two-week break before he joined the DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration), he had taken some time off to head up to Santa Clarita.

He stepped out of the car and walked up the three steps to the porch, taking note of second step that was unstable. Mickey was getting older, although she wouldn't admit it. He grabbed the key from over the mantel and opened the door.

"Mickey?" he called.

There was no answer, however there were photos of Mickey's little brother Callum and a few of Callen as a teenager scattered around the family room. A dog bed in the corner with a food and water bowl gave Callen cause to smile. She still had him.

He walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a coffee, dropping his bedroll off in the guest room as he passed by it. As he took a sip of coffee he heard the spluttering of an old Jeep rattling to a halt outside the cabin.

Callen opened the door and smiled as Mickey Halloran climbed out of the driver's side, "G!" she called with a smile on her face.

"Mickey!" Callen smiled and crouched down as a fully-grown Spencer jumped down from the open door and launched himself towards Callen, tail wagging and licking him as he stroked his head. "Spencer, down boy! Yeah I missed you too!" He grinned.

Mickey grabbed her groceries and Callen helped her take them inside. "So you still haven't rehabilitated him?" Callen asked nodding towards the wolf who had climbed into his basket, turned around three times and settled, watching the living room and the two humans within, with tired eyes.

"Hey, you win some, you lose some. How you been G?" Mickey asked giving him a hug.

"Good, got two weeks downtime so thought I'd come visit," Callen said.

Mickey looked at him and smiled, "Callen, you know you are always welcome here. I told you that the day you left with Aileen, but you only come now when you're between jobs. I thought you liked being with the CIA?" Mickey asked.

Callen looked concerned, "You haven't told anyone?" he asked, knowing his job had been confidential.

Mickey laughed, "I don't get visitors out here and apart from when you graduated college and you came up here for that weekend, no one in town ever sees you. I honestly think if I told them the scrawny, annoying kid that lived with me for two weeks eight years ago was a CIA agent, they'd reopen the medical center just to lock me up in it." Mickey laughed.

Callen helped put the groceries away and added to it, the box of food he had brought with him. She smiled when she noticed the small box of chocolates and bunch of flowers that accompanied him.

"Thank you Callen," Mickey said and smiled when she smelled them.

"I dropped some flowers off at Aileen's grave site on the way here," Callen said sadly as he sat at the table and passed her a coffee. "I couldn't make it to the funeral."

"I did. We kept in touch over the years. She became a good friend, and that was your doing Callen. If it hadn't been for you I would have never met her, or had such a good friend in my life," Mickey said with a smile.

"You did? I never knew that. She mentioned you a few times, when she tried to put me back in a foster home," he told her.

"But you went back?" Mickey prompted.

"Once or twice. Okay, another ten times," Callen admitted with a wry grin.

He leaned back and stroked Spencer on the head; "I had a dog for awhile," he admitted changing the subject, "and a wife," he added quietly.