Free Left Behind by Laurie Halse Anderson

hard—to run a horse farm and raise sheep.” I suppose this is my best guess as to what I’m feeling.
    â€œIt will definitely keep her busy. But Connie Van Hoven can do whatever she sets her mind to. She’s a hard worker, and she can afford to hire some help. Don’t forget she has the space. But if something is troubling you, you should talk to Dr. Gabe about it.” Dr. Mac gets up and looks out the window. She takes her car keys off the hook by the door. “Think I’ll go and see where Maggie and Sherlock ended up.”
    Brenna and I set the table while we wait for them to get back. We put the casserole in the microwave, but we don’t start heating it. If it takes a while for them to return, we don’t want it overcooked or cold. I sit back down at the counter while Brenna washes the cutting board and knives. Socrates walks by and hops up onto the stool beside me. I reach over and scratch him between his ears. He lifts his chin just like my cat, Mittens, does when she wants the petting togo on and on. Socrates rumbles a purr as he steps from the stool onto my lap, all the while keeping his head pressed against my hand. Petting Socrates and thinking about Mittens makes me want to tell Brenna about my new kitten. It would be something fun to talk about after this tough day. But I intended to tell Maggie first, so I’ll wait. I’ll tell them together tonight. Yes. That’s the right thing to do. The best thing to do. I’ll wait.
    Socrates jumps down, so I get up to help Brenna dry the dishes. Socrates pads over and rubs up against my legs. Then he weaves between them before moving on to Brenna’s legs.
    â€œAren’t you a pretty kitty, aren’t you, now?” Brenna coos to Socrates.
    That’s when I burst out, “I’m getting a kitten!”
    â€œYou are? Fantastic! Does Mittens know about this?” Brenna is as happy as I had hoped Maggie would be with my news.
    â€œI’ve been dying to tell you and Maggie,” I say. Which is a little fib, since I intended to tell just Maggie last night.
    â€œSo tell me more. When? Where? Have you picked one out or just gotten permission?”
    â€œI’ll tell you everything when Maggie gets back. I don’t want to have to go through it all twice,”I say. “But let me get my phone. I have some pictures of the litter, and I can show you the one I hope to get.” Finally, something happy to think about!

Chapter Eleven

    B renna and I are swiping through the kitten pictures on my phone when Maggie, Sherlock, and Dr. Mac walk in. Sherlock looks like he’s being dragged into the house until he reaches the refrigerator. Then he perks up and practically prances over to his empty supper dish.
    â€œNot that you deserve it,” Maggie says to Sherlock as she pours kibble into the dish. “Sit,” she tells him. Sherlock does. “Okay” she says, and he begins to chow down.
    Maggie and Dr. Mac must have had some words. Neither one is really looking at the other, and neither one seems very happy. I decide that it’s not a good time to mention my news to Maggie after all.
    â€œShould I put the casserole in?” I ask Dr. Mac.
    â€œPlease do,” she says. “Your salad looks delicious.”
    Dinner is awkward. Even though we were invited for the weekend, it feels like Brenna and I should not be here. It feels like we’re spying on private family time. Whatever Dr. Mac and Maggie have said to each other, it’s clear that there’s still some tension between them.
    After we finish dinner and check up on all the animals, we go back outside to the tent. It’s hot and sticky, the kind of evening that makes you wish you were indoors enjoying air conditioning. But Maggie and Brenna are dead set on sleeping in the tent tonight. We sit on the grass outside the tent and watch for fireflies as we wait for it to get dark enough for the fireworks.
    Brenna