Read Online A Million Miles From Boston by Karen Day - Free Book Online

pulled up my sweatshirt hood and ran down the steps. I grabbed the small bucket, Mr. Richards took everything else and I led him around the back to the shed, which held old paint cans, a few rakes and garbage cans.
    “Perfect.” He set everything on the floor. “You’ll keep the kids out of here?”
    I nodded. “They know the shed is off limits.”
    He chuckled. “I asked Allison and her new friends what you were doing with all those kids. They said you have a camp, that you’re good at being in charge. I like a kid who knows how to work!”
    What? The older girls were
talking
about me?
    We were soaked, but I didn’t care. “Who said I was good at being in charge?”
    He started for his truck. “Kiki did, I think. Can’t remember exactly. Sorry I can’t give you a ride. I’m late for a meeting in town.”
    “That’s okay.” I waved as he got into his truck and drove away.
    Superior and I headed home. My mind was racing. What else had they said? I floated the entire way back, not minding the rain or the puddles.
    Our cottage was quiet and damp. Dad had left me a note.
Bucky is at Henry’s and I went into town. Be back at 1
. I dried Superior, put my camp money into my box and sat at Dad’s computer.
    Mei had emailed me with the best news. Her parents were dropping her off here for a night the next week while they took her older sister to look at colleges in Maine. Hurray! I wrote back, telling her all that we’d do.
Somehow we’ll have to avoid Ian (haven’t seen him in 2 days). And remember the older girls I told U about? Kiki was telling Mr. Richards about me. So cool. Maybe U could meet her!
I typed.
    The house phone rang. “Hello?”
    “Hi. Bucky?”
    I frowned. The PT. “No, Lucy.”
    “Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry. It’s Julia. I can’t hear you. Wait.” I heard music and voices in the background but then everything was quiet. “That’s better. I’m in a closet now.”
    “What?”
    “I’m at work but there’s nowhere to talk, so I’m in a closet. A small utility closet that now smells like Pine-Sol. No wonder. I just tipped over a bottle of it. Hold on.”
    I didn’t want to hold on.
    “Well, at least the closet floor is clean.”
    “My dad isn’t here.” I tried to sound preoccupied, busy.
    “Oh. Maybe I’ll try his cell.”
    “You can’t reach him right now.” Was that true?
    “Okay. Would you tell him that I called and—”
    “I gotta go. Bye.” I hung up. People didn’t have to know where other people were every second of the day.
    How much
did
they talk? Every day? Several times a day?
    I stomped down the stairs, threw open the door and marched down the road, Superior close behind. Rain pelted my face. All week I’d tried not to think about the PT. She’d be here in two days.
    Superior was soaked, her fur dripping water, her ears pulled back. She used to love the rain. She’d leap into puddles and chase frogs.
    “I’m sorry, Superior. Let’s go back and I’ll give you a bath.”
    She smiled at me with her big dark eyes. But then her earspricked up and she turned. Dad’s car inched up the road. He stopped and lowered his window. “What are you doing? Get in!”
    I climbed into the front seat and put Superior on my lap.
    Dad smiled. “Remember how Superior used to run through puddles, not caring whether it was forty degrees or eighty?”
    I smiled. “Yeah. She doesn’t do that much anymore.”
    Superior shook, water going everywhere, and we laughed. Then Dad rubbed her chin. “Look how white she’s gotten. She’s slowing down, isn’t she?”
    I felt that space open in my chest again. I shook my head. “No, she’s the same. I take good care of her.”
    “Goose, it’s not your fault she’s getting older.”
    True, but I was responsible for Superior. And I wasn’t going to let her slow down yet.
    We watched the rain. Drops the size of nickels hit the windshield, then bounced. Water dripped from my hair onto my neck but I didn’t wipe it away. I held my