“Daddy asked you all this?”
“Most of it.”
“What part didn't he ask?”
Cole looked toward the riders repairing the van lift.
“The number of people.”
“How many did he ask?”
“Me.”
“And you brought everybody.”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
Cole smiled.
“You ask why a lot.”
“I’m five.”
“I've been informed that's normal.”
Emma picked at one of her ribbons.
“Are you my daddy's friend?”
Cole considered carefully.
“Yes.”
“Best friend?”
“No.”
Emma seemed relieved.
“Good.”
Cole laughed.
“Why good?”
“Uncle Danny is Daddy’s best friend.”
“I didn't want him replaced.”
“I'll try to survive the disappointment.”
Emma looked serious.
“Daddy says friends are different jobs.”
Cole waited.
“He says Uncle Danny is his dumb-idea friend.”
“That sounds important.”
“Grandma is his advice friend.”
“What job do I have?”
Emma thought.
“Motorcycle friend.”
“I can accept that.”
Then she looked at him.
“What job do I have?”
Cole’s smile disappeared slowly.
He did not expect the question.
Emma waited.
Cole looked toward the dandelions still lying near her chair.
“Promise friend.”
Emma smiled.
“That's a good one.”
“It is.”
That evening, after the bikers left for a motel in town, Rosa found Cole’s envelope again.
Emma had fallen asleep holding the second page.
Rosa carefully placed it on the bedside table.
She reread Mateo’s letter in the kitchen.
Near the bottom, after the parts meant for Emma, her son had written a paragraph addressed specifically to Rosa.
Mom,
I know you'll distrust Cole.
Good.
You raised me to distrust men who arrive in groups wearing matching clothes.
Cole says this makes you smart.
Please let them help.
I've been worried about the ramp for months.
The van is worse than you've told me.
Emma notices when you hide your back pain after lifting her.
So do I.
Please stop protecting me from problems I am too far away to fix myself.
Let somebody stand in for me until I can come home.
Rosa read the paragraph twice.
Then she sat alone at the kitchen table and cried quietly.
She had indeed hidden the back pain.
She had also hidden the broken lift.
And the overdue repair estimate.
And the fact that sometimes getting Emma out of the house required more strength than Rosa had left after a long day.
Not because she resented her granddaughter.
Never.
She loved Emma with a fierceness that made inconvenience irrelevant.
But love did not manufacture money.
Or muscle.
Or accessibility.
Rosa had not wanted Mateo worrying from thousands of miles away.
Apparently he had worried anyway.
The next morning, she approved the fishing trip.
Emma celebrated so loudly Mrs. Reynolds later claimed she heard it through two closed windows.
At seven, the bikers returned.
But so did someone else.
A sheriff’s cruiser pulled into the driveway.
Rosa stepped outside immediately.
Cole looked toward the arriving deputy.
“Problem?”
Deputy Harris climbed out.
“Morning.”
Rosa recognized him.
He had attended high school with Mateo.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He looked toward the bikers.
“Somebody reported a motorcycle gang surrounding a disabled child’s house.”
Everyone slowly looked across the street.
Mrs. Reynolds’s curtains moved.