"Hey," a soft voice said beside Rosie's ear. She squirmed, burying her face in her pillow and ignoring the voice. "Rosie, hey," the voice continued. She felt a hand on her back, lightly shaking her awake. She uncovered her face, letting her eyes pry themselves open to see. Her vision was blurry with whatever gunk accumulated in her eyes as she slept. She rubbed them clean with the inside of her arm. "You know what today is?" the person asked.
In between her long and slow blinks, Rosie could see Fraser's face above hers. He sat at the edge of her bed, his hand tucking her hair away from her eyes. She knew what day today was. "Monday," she answered simply, her voice groggy.
Mondays were bittersweet. She got to leave home for a whole seven hours, but that also meant she had to be at school for a whole seven hours.
"Well, yeah, but what day is today?" Fraser asked as Rosie sat up in her bed.
She furrowed her eyebrows, frowning with confusion. "Monday," she said again.
Fraser let out a soft laugh. "Jeez, Rosie. What day of the month?" he asked, a smile on his face.
"How the hell am I s'posed to know?" Rosie huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
Holding back a laugh at that, Fraser shook his head. "Watch your mouth," he said.
"You say it," Rosie argued, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah, but I'm fifteen. You're five."
Rosie's eyes narrowed. "I ain't five. I'm four," she corrected. Fraser gave her a look that had some sort of meaning to it, but Rosie wasn't sure what it was. She stared blankly for a moment. What is today? What is today? Her eyes widened and her face lightened up. "It's my birthday!" she exclaimed, her smile wide.
"Finally," Fraser huffed. It only took her about a million years to realize it. Rosie's smile only grew the more she thought about it. She liked being an odd number age more than she liked being an even number age. She wasn't sure why. It just felt better. "What d'you want for breakfast?" he asked.
"I want M-"
Before Rosie could finish her sentence, Fraser interrupted her. "Wait, lemme guess," he said, holding a hand out. Rosie tapped her hands against her knees, teeming with excitement. "McDonald's hotcakes?" he guessed, already knowing that was what she wanted.
"Yes, please," Rosie said with a nod, bubbling with joy.
"Well, then, you gotta hurry up and get dressed so we can get there before they stop servin' breakfast," Fraser told her, scooping her up off of her bed and holding her on his hip.
Rosie wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Thank you," she muttered, her voice muffled by his shirt.
Fraser kissed the top of her head. "Happy birthday, Rosie," he said, walking over to her closet. He pulled the door open, revealing the sparse amount of shirts hung up inside. Rosie lifted her head again, letting her eyes scan over the shirts. "Which one's your favorite?" Fraser asked. Rosie pointed to her baseball jersey. Fraser's eyebrows raised. "Really? That one?"
"Yeah. I like it," Rosie told him.
"A'right, then," Fraser said, pulling the jersey off of the hanger. He placed Rosie back on the ground and handed her the shirt. She didn't need help picking out anything rest. She just couldn't reach the hangers in her closet. "Go ahead and get dressed. I'mma go get some money," Fraser said, disguising the anxiety he felt in his gut with a look of excitement.
He slipped out of the bedroom and down the hall to where his father's bedroom was. The door was closed and the lights were still off. David was still asleep. Thank God. Fraser continued down the hall and walked as silently as he could into the kitchen. He looked around the room.
There were some empty beer bottles piling up in a paper bag beside the recycling bin. They would soon turn them in for as little as five cents per bottle, but it was better than nothing. Either way, the bottles weren't what Fraser was looking for. It wasn't the dirty dishes left on the table, either, or the half-empty pack of cigarettes on the counter. It was the wallet tucked into the pocket of David Banks' jacket.
The jacket was hung up on the back of a chair. Fraser looked back down the hall, just to make sure his father hadn't suddenly woken up and crept out of his room. Luckily, he hadn't.
Everything was silent, aside from the thumping of Fraser's heart in his chest. Adrenaline flooded his veins. It was only a few dollars. It wasn't much. Ten would be enough. Maybe David wouldn't notice. It was only ten dollars. Only ten. Only ten. Only ten.
Fraser pulled the wallet out and opened it up. The money inside was sparse, but Fraser managed to find two five-dollar bills.
He would get beat for this, if his dad found out. Maybe he should have put it back. Maybe they didn't need hotcakes. They could do without, right?
No. It was Rosie's birthday. All Rosie wanted was some hotcakes for breakfast. Hell, she didn't even know it was her birthday. Most kids would have kept themselves up all night, waiting for their birthday to come. Not Rosie. It didn't matter to her because it didn't matter to David.
Rosie needed to know that she was important and that the day she was born was important and it deserved to be celebrated. She needed to know that the day she was born was the best day of Fraser's entire life, and that, ever since, everything has been different, and in many ways, better. He wasn't so alone anymore. That was a good thing. But, on the other hand, he was also more terrified than he had ever been before because now it wasn't just him or his mom who could get hurt. It was his baby sister. His five-year-old baby sister with a sweet smile and a heart of glass. She was fragile. He was horrified at the thought of her being hurt. She was just so important.
She needed to know that she was important. And, sure, maybe these were just some three-dollar hotcakes from McDonald's. But it was what she wanted. If he didn't show her that she deserved to have such a simple thing at least on her birthday, she might just grow up believing that she didn't deserve anything. She needed to know she was important.
So Fraser shoved the ten dollars into his pocket and put the wallet back into his father's coat pocket. He turned away from the wallet, trying to forget that he had taken anything at all. If he acted guilty, his dad was sure to know that he had done something wrong, and whether or not he knew what it was, Fraser would get punished for it.
Quick and quiet footsteps pattered down the hall until Rosie was standing right across from Fraser, her hands linked together in front of her as she beamed up at him. "Can we go now?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.
"Yeah, dude. Let's get the hell outta here," Fraser said, stepping to the front door and holding it open for her.
"Let's get the hell outta here," Rosie echoed, rushing out the front door.
"You're not allowed to say that!" Fraser called after her, quickly locking the door and following behind her.
Rosie already knew the way to McDonald's. If they could afford to eat out, it was usually only enough for McDonald's, so that was where Rosie and Fraser often found themselves. Neither of them minded. Rosie liked the food and Fraser felt nostalgic every time he went inside.
When he was younger, before Rosie was born, sometimes he and his mom wouldn't stay at home with David. Sometimes his mom would say she was leaving and take Fraser with her, only for them to stay at a motel for a little while before inevitably running out of money and returning home to David. But, during that time, Fraser's mom would sometimes take him to get hotcakes in the mornings.
It was sweet that Rosie wanted the same thing, really. She had never gotten to experience those peaceful mornings with Fraser and their mom. By the time Rosie was old enough to stand, their mom was already gone.
Sometimes Fraser hated her for leaving. The other part of him, though, understood. She needed out. She needed to get as far away from David Banks as she possibly could, or she'd be stuck with him forever, being abused like she had been all her life.
Fraser could always remember the day she left. Rosie was on his bed, surrounded by a wall of pillows and blankets to keep her from rolling off. She was screaming her head off, crying loud enough to make everyone's eardrums pop. David was screaming, too. He stomped into the kitchen for another beer as his girlfriend packed up her things.
Crying in the doorway, Fraser stood with his hands trembling. He begged her not to go. She said no. She said she had to. So Fraser begged for her to take him and Rosie with her. That wasn't a real option, though, because their mom had next to no money in her wallet or her bank account. All she had to her name were the clothes she was packing and the car she would leave in. Being homeless with a baby and a ten-year-old wasn't ideal.
At the very least, Rosie and Fraser needed a roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in. They had that. Maybe they weren't happy. Maybe living with David wasn't the perfect ending, but it was better than sleeping on the streets. If she took her kids with her, they would go hungry. They would have to be left alone for hours on end while she went to try and earn some money. They would be neglected.
Alone in the world, she felt like she had no other option. Fraser couldn't blame her for that anymore.
Hell, sometimes Fraser even debated making the same choice. Sometimes things got so bad that he wasn't sure if he could take it anymore. He wanted to leave and never come back. He'd get a job at a shitty restaurant or something and he'd make ends meet on his own.
But he couldn't do that to Rosie. He remembered exactly how he felt, standing in the driveway, watching the one person who cared about him leave him behind. Fraser couldn't let Rosie feel the same way. So he had to stay.
He would stay in that house even if it killed him. Though like a gun in his lips, that house was his home.
Damnit. He needed to get out of his head. This trip was about celebrating Rosie. It wasn't about his mom and the memories she left behind. It was Rosie's fifth birthday and he was going to celebrate it.
"You think you're gonna be able to eat all your hotcakes?" Fraser asked, glancing over at Rosie, who walked along by his side.
"Duh," Rosie said as she jumped over each and every crack in the sidewalk.
The neighborhood streets were empty, for the most part, in the early morning. Most people weren't out of the house before seven on a Monday, unless they had somewhere important to be, and in that case, they wouldn't be hanging around outside like they might be on the weekends.
For having just woken up at six in the morning, Rosie was surprisingly chipper. The excitement of her birthday must have finally hit her. She was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Do ya think, maybe, they'll gimme a toy like with a Happy Meal?" Rosie asked. After tripping over a bigger crack in the sidewalk, she grabbed onto Fraser's arm to regain her balance before continuing on jumping.
"Maybe if ya tell 'em it's your birthday," Fraser answered.
As they reached the busier roads, Fraser grabbed onto Rosie's hand, keeping her close to his side. Sometimes, even early in the mornings, panhandlers will be out with signs, aggressively asking people for money. Sometimes they were honest and really did need money for food, but other times, they were just drug addicts who wanted more money to buy more drugs. That's why Fraser's anxiety always spiked when he saw one of them coming in his direction. He never knew whether or not the panhandler would have great control over themself. Sometimes they'd get mad and start freaking out. You never could really tell.
Either way, Fraser didn't want Rosie near any of them. So he would keep her glued to his side until they got inside the McDonald's. Rosie didn't mind, anyway. Holding onto his hand made it so she could jump further.
"I don't wanna talk to 'em," Rosie said as they neared the McDonald's parking lot.
"Oh, come on, Rosie. They ain't gonna get mad at you for orderin' your food," Fraser scoffed, rolling his eyes. He understood, though, why she was so timid at times.
"But I don't wanna. Will you order for me?" Rosie asked. Fraser glanced over at her, only to see her staring up at him with wide and shiny blue eyes. How could he say no to her? "Please?" she asked. Oh, that was just pathetic. She looked like a little puppy dog.
Nevertheless, "Fine," Fraser huffed.
When they reached the door, Fraser pulled it open and held it for Rosie to walk in ahead of him. The building was empty so far, but a quiet alarm went off as the door opened, alerting the staff that someone was there. Rosie jumped her way over to the counter and Fraser followed behind her.
There was a woman behind the counter who looked to be a little over twenty. She smiled at each of them. "Welcome to McDonald's. How can I help you?" she said, a bit robotically.
Rosie looked up at Fraser, her eyes big and blue once again. He put a hand on her head. If it weren't her birthday, he might have made her order for herself. "Hey. Can we get two orders of the hotcakes and..." Fraser looked down at Rosie, bumping her arm to snag her attention away from the toys in the display case. "You want anythin' to drink?" he asked her.
After nodding, Rosie pulled on Fraser's arm to make him bend down next to her. She cupped her hands around his ear. "I want apple juice," she whispered to him.
Fraser stood back up, hiding his amusement with Rosie. "And an apple juice, please," he said.
"Will that be all?" the worker asked.
"Yeah."
"That'll be eight forty-nine."
"Here," Fraser said, sliding the two five-dollar bills across the counter. The woman took the fives and gave a dollar back, along with two quarters and a penny.
"Is that for here or to go?"
"Here, please."
"Alright. We'll have that out for you in a minute."
"Thanks," Fraser replied. Rosie tugged on his arm again and tapped on the toy display case. Fraser let out a huff, turning back to the cashier. "Hey, you think we could get one a' those toys? It's her birthday and she's been wantin' one," he asked.
"Oh, yeah. Sure," the woman said. She wasn't supposed to give toys to people unless they were getting a Happy Meal, but, judging by the gash on Fraser's lip and the crinkled five-dollar bills he had handed her, those kids probably needed someone to make an exception for them. So she took a toy from the pile and handed it to Rosie. "Happy birthday, love," she said.
Rosie gave the woman a smile and kicked the toe of her right foot against the side of her left foot, but stayed silent.
"What d'you say?" Fraser murmured, bumping her arm with his hand.
"Thank you," Rosie said as quietly as a mouse.
"Of course," the woman said before turning away to get their food ready.
Fraser began leading Rosie away to pick a place to sit. She ran to the booth in the corner, which was her favorite spot. Fraser followed, slumping down in the seat across from her. "You gotta start learnin' to speak up for yourself. You're too quiet," he said.
"Why do I gotta talk when you can talk instead?" Rosie asked absentmindedly, paying more attention to ripping open the plastic that encased her new plastic toy.
"What about when I ain't there?" Fraser asked, raising his eyebrows.
"You're always there," Rosie said.
"Well, you got me there," Fraser chuckled, taking the toy from her and ripping open the plastic himself before passing it back to her.
She never went anywhere without him, except for school. And even then, he would walk her there every day. He was sure she would grow out of her shyness, anyway. Once she learned that not every word she said resulted in some sort of anger out of the person she spoke to.
"Did you take money from Daddy?" Rosie suddenly asked. She acted like she was preoccupied with her new toy, but Fraser could see through her. She was worried. She was too aware for a five-year-old.
Fraser hated it when she asked questions like that. She had just turned five. She shouldn't have had to be aware of spending money or where that money was made. She should have just wanted McDonald's and been happy that she had gotten it.
Another thing Fraser hated was that she called their dad Daddy. The word was too innocent. She would say it like any five-year-old would, except while other kids were talking about their daddies like they were the moon and stars in the sky, Rosie was talking about a monster.
Daddy. As if he had done any parenting. Fraser had done all that. From the day his mother walked out the front door, he had taken care of Rosie. He stole baby formula from the store. He cooked dinner instead of doing his homework. He walked Rosie to school every morning, making himself five minutes late to his homeroom each and every day. He did all of that. Not David. Not her daddy. Her brother.
"328!" a voice shouted, saving Fraser from having to answer Rosie's question.
"That's us," Fraser said. He got up from the booth and went to get his and Rosie's food from the counter. When he returned, Rosie's excitement had temporarily distracted her from her worries. "Here ya are, birthday girl," Fraser said, placing her pancakes and apple juice down in front of her.
Rosie covered her face with her hands, hiding her smile. Fraser knocked her hands away from her face, handing her a fork and a syrup packet.
"Don't cover your face when ya smile."
"Fine," Rosie huffed, twisting her lips to the side instead. She began cutting up her pancakes with her fork, one by one, dipping each bite into the syrup packet.
"You wanna skip school today?" Fraser asked out of nowhere.
"What?!" Rosie said, her eyebrows shooting up.
"It's your birthday. Why not?"
"'Cause it ain't allowed. Duh."
"Well, I don't wanna go to school today. I'd rather spend it with you," Fraser said, shoving her napkins closer to her. She might as well have dumped the syrup packet all over her face.
"Can I get a Ring-Pop?" Rosie asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah. Sure," Fraser said.
"What about the beach? Could we go to the beach?" Rosie asked next, raising her eyebrows even higher.
"Whatever you want, Rosie," Fraser promised her.
She smiled again before twisting her lips to the side. "Then, ok," she said decidedly.