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Show What are their names? I don't have one, Grandpa. A pretty girl like you. Sure you do. No, Grandpa, I don't. He shifted his legs and my body threatened to fall between his knees. Aw, come on, he said, bouncing his legs up and down, tell your old grandpa. Grandpa, look at this bracelet. I held my wrist up for inspection, moving the bracelet back and forth to catch the light. I sure like it. I bet someone likes you, he said. Give your grandpa a kiss. I really like this bracelet. It seems nice. You 're nice. I bet the boys like your new hair. That summer I had cut my hair like the ice skater Dorothy Hamill and loved the way the bob brushed against the back of me neck. When he ran his fingers through the blunt edges, though, I wished my neck were less exposed. Give your grandpa a kiss. I looked at the bracelet and shrewdly measured its worth. The painted gold on the chain was chipping in a few places, and I noticed a few of the charms were missing, loops left empty, the bracelet out of balance. I gotta go, I decided. My mom is looking for me. Sometimes, though, I chose differently and kissed his soft wet lips. I bought a lot of toys at the Cozad five and dime. Which is why I stayed so long on the tractor the summer I was eight, allowed my 96 |