Anne Frank and Me Read Online Free

do you think she got that behavior from?”
    â€œMine are business calls, Liam.” As if to illustrate the point, her cell phone rang again.
    â€œMary, really—”
    She mouthed her apologies and strode to the kitchen, leaving Nicole and her father alone at the table. Dr. Burns began to slash at his chicken with little sawing motions. Obviously he had just entered the ticked-off zone, which meant that before he got ticked off at her, Nicole had to think of something to deflect him.
    â€œDid I tell you that we’re going on a field trip to the museum tomorrow, Dad?” she asked, her voice a bit too bright. “To the Anne Frank in the World exhibit.”
    He put down his fork and frowned. “It irritates me to no end that they saturate you kids with European material when you’re completely ignorant about the literary legacy of your own country.”
    Bingo. She’d hit one of her dad’s hot buttons.
    â€œAs I recall, you read two Holocaust novels when you were younger, didn’t you? But you’ve never been assigned anything by, say, John Dos Passos? The U.S.A. trilogy?”
    Nicole shook her head.
    â€œHe wrote during the Depression. Do you have any idea how terrible it was in America during the Depression? Honestly, Jews do not have a monopoly on suffering.”
    â€œI know, Dad.” Agreeing with her father was always the safe choice.
    Some killed themselves because the world had turned into a place in which they no longer wanted to live.
    â€œDad?” Nicole asked hesitantly. “Is it true that some Jews killed themselves?”
    â€œWho killed themselves?” Little Bit scampered back into the dining room and plopped down in her seat. “Sorry, Daddy.”
    â€œHow about some dessert?” Mrs. Burns asked, appearing in the doorway holding a tray of brownies. “I’m sorry about that call, it’s just—”
    â€œNicole knows someone who killed herself,” Little Bit reported.
    â€œThat’s horrible,” Mrs. Burns exclaimed, as she set the brownies on the table. “I read an article in People about how teen suicide is an epidemic. Who was it, honey?”
    â€œNo one you know,” Nicole said softly. It was easier not to explain.
    â€œWell, it’s still a tragedy. Elizabeth, would you like a brownie before you load the dishwasher?”
    â€œIt’s not my turn, it’s her turn.” Little Bit pointed at Nicole.
    â€œStop everything!” a voice commanded from the front hall. Mimi burst into the dining room. Pinned to her ratty-looking crocheted poncho was a yellow pin featuring a tearful baby harp seal, in protest against cruelty to animals.
    â€œOh, God, that poor chicken,” Mimi said, eyeing the leftovers. Then she rallied. “Nico, we have to go to your room immediately. It’s crucial.”
    Mrs. Burns smiled wryly. “Hello, Mimi, another understated entrance.”
    â€œNicole can’t leave, it’s her night to load the dishwasher,” Little Bit reported. “I made a chores chart to prove it.”
    â€œA chores chart?” Nicole echoed incredulously.
    Mimi draped a gangly arm around Little Bit. “I’ve got a great idea. How about if you load the dishwasher and then you can give yourself a gold star on your little chores chart?”
    â€œThat’s not fair. Mom—”
    Mimi yanked Nicole out of the dining room. “Yes! A clean getaway,” Nicole said, laughing, as they pounded upstairs to her room. She turned on her boom box. “Okay, about our choreography. I decided it’s kind of lame when we—”
    Mimi snapped off the music. “Forget Fly Girls. The opportunity of your life is about to come walking through that door.”
    At that moment, Suzanne walked in, dance bag slung over her shoulder. “Hey, what’s up? Am I late? Your sister let me in.”
    Nicole eyed her dubiously. “Supposedly