Free Bright Eyes by Catherine Anderson

again. “Chad wanted us to go to Disneyland like his friend Tommy, but Mommy says we’ve got to wait for her ship.”
    Zeke found himself struggling not to smile again.
    “It’s a money ship,” Rosie elaborated. “When Aunt Valerie says it sank at sea, Mommy tells her to put a sock in it. I’m in total agreement. I really want to go to Disneyland next year and meet Mickey Mouse—the real one, not a fake.”
    Zeke recalled Chad’s saying that he was bored at home, and little wonder if he’d been listening to rap all summer. Rosie’s direct, honest gaze made him feel ashamed. He’d been furious about the damages that Chad had inflicted, and he’d gone off half-cocked, hell-bent to teach the kid a lesson. It shouldn’t have taken a little girl’s honesty to make him step back and question the wisdom of that. Sometimes even tomato throwers needed a break.
    “You can keep my money,” Rosie went on to say, “and me and Mommy will come every day to help Chad fix stuff. When we’ve worked long enough to pay for everything, you can tell us, and then we’ll stop.”
    How could Zeke look into those huge brown eyes and argue? “Okay.”
    She slid down off the chair, a miniature powerhouse who would probably never realize that a glass ceiling existed. She thrust out her tiny hand. “We gotta shake on it. Poppy says no deal is final until you shake.”
    Zeke agreed. When he made a bargain and shook on it, the terms were written in stone. Her hand felt impossibly small and fragile when he encompassed it with his fingers.
    After sealing the deal, she withdrew her arm, fussed daintily with her skirt again, and then beamed a smile at him. “I’m a real hard worker. You’ll see.”
    Zeke tried to picture her carrying boards bigger than she was. “What have you done for fun this summer, Rosie?”
    She smiled broadly, flashing her dimple. “Lots of stuff. Aunt Valerie always thinks of something when Mommy’s at work. Chad doesn’t like the stuff we do, though. He says it’s dumb.”
    “What do you do?”
    She frowned. “Sometimes we paint our fingernails. Other times we play Go Fish or checkers. When those things sound big-time boring, Aunt Valerie makes caramel corn and steals the remote control from Gramps so we can watch kid movies. She still likes them ’cause she hasn’t ever grown up. She says she’s never going to. Being a grown-up is dull, dull, dull. ”
    Zeke tried to imagine sexy Valerie watching children’s films. Maybe, he decided, a heart of pure gold was concealed behind all that makeup and hair gel. “Watching movies sounds fun.”
    “Everything is pretty fun with Aunt Valerie,” the child assured him. “Just not as much fun as it is with my mommy.” She turned to take inventory of his kitchen again. “My brother says you’re a really good cook.”
    “I try.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “My mommy likes to cook, too, but she’s not very good at it. She tried to make you a welcome cake. Poppy said we should get out the syrup and pretend it was a flapjack. Mommy got mad and said she’d never bake a cake again. We’re kind of glad ’cause they’re never very good.” She turned toward the door. “I gotta go. Aunt Valerie might notice I’m gone and start to worry.”
    “Uh-oh. I hope you don’t get in trouble.”
    She sent him a surprised look over her shoulder. “From Aunt Valerie? She won’t be mad. She’ll just want to know what your house looks like. She thinks you’re cute. Chad says she’s in for a big disappointment because you’re gay.”
    Zeke’s eyebrows lifted. Before he could think of a response to that revelation, Rosie was out the door. She paused on the porch to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”
    “Okay.”
    The door closed, and Zeke sat there in the quiet kitchen, wondering if he’d imagined the visit. Then he opened his hand and stared at the coins resting on his palm. They were sweaty from Rosie’s fist. He smiled and put them on the table. A Barbie