Read Online Runaway by Dandi Daley Mackall - Free Book Online

turns to her husband. They’re sitting so close together that their noses touch. “Any progress on the latest rhyming book?”
    I nudge Kat and whisper, “Rhyming book?”
    She whispers back, “Dad writes children’s books.”
    “You’re kidding,” I say, louder than I meant to.
    Popeye balances his knife and fork across his plate and rubs his hands together. “Two promising projects,” he says, like he’s giving away a secret. “One is about a unicorn, or maybe a camel, who doesn’t want to go on Noah’s ark. So the poor creature says, ‘Can’t you see it’s way too scary? Is this whole trip necessary?’”
    “Brilliant!” Annie exclaims. She kisses Popeye’s bald head.
    “Nice rhyme, Dad,” Hank adds, grinning at me.
    “I think you should make it a cat instead of a unicorn,” Kat suggests.
    “Wonderful idea, Kat!” Popeye exclaims.
    “What’s the other story about?” Annie asks, taking a bite of her fish.
    “Thought you’d never ask,” Popeye jokes. “Mice. Not sure where this one is going, but I do like the sound of the words.”
    “Hit it, Dad,” Hank says.
    Popeye clears his throat and recites the lines as if he’s in an elementary school recital: “Do Mice Sneeze?” He clears his throat again. “Do mice sneeze? When they sneeze, do they buckle at their little mice knees? Do their ears blow free in the wintry breeze? Do they scuse themselves, saying, ‘Scuse me, please’?” He glances around the table for approval. “There’s more, but that’s enough for now.”
    “Marvelous!” His wife kisses his head again.
    Popeye’s face reddens. “Well, it has a nice sound. But like I said, I don’t know where it’s headed. There’s more plot on a cereal box than in the mice story.”
    “I like it, Dad,” Kat says. “Bet you could work a cat into that one, too.”
    “I’ll bet I could,” Popeye agrees.
    I’m wondering if he’s actually sold one of these rhyming books, but I don’t ask.
    Conversations break off as we work through dinner. Kat just picks at her food.
    Suddenly, she stands up from the table. “I need to be excused.”
    The smiles vanish from every face. “Want me to come?” Annie asks.
    Kat shakes her head and runs up the stairs.
    It’s so quiet I can hear a woodpecker tapping outside. “She hopped down from the counter earlier, and I thought maybe she hurt herself.”
    “No,” Popeye says. “I doubt it.”
    We eat in silence for a couple of minutes.
    Then Popeye smiles and says, “Talked to Ms. Bean today. She and her honey want to meet us in Nice for fireworks on the Fourth.”
    “They can meet us at the Made-Rite,” Annie agrees.
    I’ve been waiting the whole meal to ask my big question. Now’s as good a time as any. “I was wondering . . . ,” I begin.
    “What’s that?” Annie asks, pushing away her plate.
    “I’m almost 16—”
    Hank interrupts. “Which is why we’re celebrating both of our birthdays at the Made-Rite.”
    I smile at him, then turn to Popeye. “I want to learn how to drive. I know Hank drives, right? Guinevere said the truck is his.”
    “Will be,” Popeye corrects, “when Hank turns 16 and passes the driving test. He’s a first-rate driver already, though.”
    “Dad has let me drive the truck around the farm since I was Wes’s age. Comes in handy around here. Can’t wait to get my license, though. I’m taking the test right after my birthday.”
    I turn to Annie and Popeye. “Would you ever have time to teach me how to drive?”
    “Sure!” they both answer at the same time.
    “Sure?” Wes says. He throws his napkin onto his plate. “Sure? She just got here! I’ve been here a year, and nobody’s bothered to teach me to drive.”
    “You’re only 14,” Popeye reminds him.
    “Hank just said he was driving at my age.”
    “Lower your voice, Wes,” Annie says. “Look at it this way. If Dakota gets her license, maybe she’ll teach you to drive.”
    “No thanks! I don’t want anything from her!”