Runaway Read Online Free Page B

e-mail the Catman, and he always knows the answer.”
    Something moves on one of the bed pillows, and I see it’s a real cat, a kitten that was blending in with all the bedspread cats. It’s small, white, scraggly, and pretty ugly.
    “This is Kitten,” Kat says, tiptoeing toward the scroungy cat. She reaches the bed and sits down without jiggling the pillow. She just sits there, her hands in her lap.
    The kitten eyes her, then backs away. “Kitten is shy,” Kat whispers, without looking at it. “It took three weeks to get her to come inside the house.”
    Slowly, the kitten creeps toward Kat. She waits. She’s so still I don’t think she’s breathing. Finally, the kitten rubs against her leg. Then it puts one paw on her leg. Then the other. After another minute, it settles on her lap, and Kat strokes its matted fur.
    “You can have either bed you want,” Kat tells me.
    I choose the bed she and the cat aren’t sitting on. Fine with me. Closer to the escape window.
    There’s a commotion outside. I hear brakes squeal, a car door slam. Then voices are shouting. Mr. Coolidge’s cry comes through the open window: “Miami! I missed you!”
    A woman’s cry matches his. “My Chester! Come here to me!”
    “Is that Dr. Coolidge?” I ask.
    Kat nods. “That’s Mom.”
    “How long has she been gone?” I ask. I can still hear them declaring how much they’ve missed each other.
    Kat laughs. It sounds like purring. “Mom left early this morning. They do this every day though, even when she doesn’t go in early. You’ll get used to it.”
    Thunderous footsteps sound on the stairs. “Dakota? Where are you?” Annie Coolidge’s curly brown hair appears at the top of the stairs. Before I can answer her, she jogs into the bedroom. “Please forgive me for not being here when you arrived! Surgery. Still, no excuse.”
    “That’s okay, Dr. Coolidge,” I answer.
    “Annie,” she says. “You’re not going to go around calling me Dr. Coolidge. I’m sure not calling you Dr. Brown.” She seems shorter than when I met her in Chicago. And rounder. I can’t imagine being wheeled into the hospital and finding out she’s my surgeon. She’s probably a great doctor, like Ms. Bean said. She just so does not look the part.
    She glances at Kat, who’s still petting the kitten. “Hi, Kat. Hi, Kitten.”
    “Hi, Mom,” Kat answers. “Doesn’t Dakota look good in here?”
    Dr. Coolidge—Annie—narrows her eyes at Kat. “Katharine Elizabeth?”
    Hank bounds up the stairs and sticks his head into the room. “Hey, Mom. Dakota, sorry I bailed on you. I needed to feed the horses. I dropped off your stuff in your room. Is everything okay?”
    I glance around the room, but I don’t see my suitcases. “Where did you put my stuff?”
    He jerks his head down the hall. “Your room.”
    “ My room? I thought this was my room.” I glance at Kat. “Our room.”
    “Heavens, no!” Annie Coolidge exclaims. “You have the room next to Kat’s.” She glares at Kat.
    Kat grins at us. “I just told her she could have either bed, and I meant it. Yours to keep, if you like, Dakota.”
    Annie sighs. “Kat, we’ve been through all this. Dakota is almost 16. She needs her own room.”
    “Come on,” Hank says. “I’ll show you which one is your real room.”
    I follow him next door and walk into a room that’s bigger than Kat’s. The floors are dark wood with narrow slats, and there’s a white hooked rug beside the wood bed. The white bedspread makes me think of snowflakes. Sheer white curtains hang on four long windows that open into the trees. I’ve never had a room to myself, and this one is something out of a book.
    “I put your bags in the closet. You and Kat share the bathroom between your bedrooms. Don’t be mad at Kat. She’s just real glad you’re here.”
    “I’m not mad.” But I don’t know what I am. I need to be alone, by myself, so I can think. “I’ve got a headache.” It’s the excuse I always