Free Seven Kisses in a Row by Patricia MacLachlan Page A

        
    Emma packed a paper bag with five apples and one pear, some writing paper so she could write letters, and a grape Popsicle. If she had had a parrot she would have taken him, too. She walked down the street, past a brown dog who was watching a crack in the sidewalk, past the grocery store, past the post office, until she came to Mrs. Groundwine’s house. Emma always went to Mrs. Groundwine’s house when she ran away.
    Mrs. Groundwine was in her yard hanging sheets on the clothesline. She waved at Emma.
    â€œWhere are you headed, Emmy?” she called. Mrs. Groundwine was the only person in the world who called Emma Emmy.
    â€œRunning away,” called Emma.
    â€œNice day for it,” said Mrs. Groundwine. “But you got a little drip from your bag there.”
    â€œIt must be my Popsicle,” said Emma.
    â€œCome in for a bit,” invited Mrs. Groundwine. “I’ve got some biscuits just out of the oven.”
    â€œYou don’t have any divided grapefruits, do you?” asked Emma.
    â€œNo,” said Mrs. Groundwine, “but I’ve got an orange, and you can see Molly’s new kittens.”
    â€œHow many kittens?” asked Emma as they walked inside.
    â€œSeven,” said Mrs. Groundwine proudly.
    Seven made Emma think about seven kisses in a row.
    Mrs. Groundwine’s house was full of cats. They sat on the counters, the tables, the chairs, and Mrs. Groundwine.
    â€œDo the cats like parrots?” asked Emma.
    â€œNo,” said Mrs. Groundwine.
    â€œThen it is good I don’t have a parrot,” said Emma.
    She ate a warm biscuit and told Mrs. Groundwine that nobody loved her.
    â€œMy parents are away and my aunt and uncle are only practicing being parents. But they are asleep. And Zachary is too busy.”
    â€œAh,” said Mrs. Groundwine, nodding her head. “That’s like my cats. Rosie there hasn’t spoken to me in weeks. Minna only comes when she feels like it. And Molly is much too busy with her kittens now to give me any time. Sometimes they are busy being cats.”
    Emma thought about her parents, who were busy being away, and Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Elliot, who were busy being sleepy. And Zachary, who was busy being busy. Emma ate one more biscuit. It was too late for her Popsicle.
    There was a knock at the door. Outside, Zachary stood on the porch with Emma’s note in his hand.
    â€œYou spelled divided wrong,” he said. “And grapefruit and Morris Fibley.”
    Emma and Zachary said good-bye to Mrs. Groundwine and the cats, who did not speak to them. Zach took Emma’s hand and they walked back up the street again, past the post office, past the grocery store, and past the brown dog, who was now watching a hole by the side of the crack in the sidewalk.
    â€œYou should have told me you were lonely,” said Zachary.
    â€œI wasn’t sure,” said Emma, who liked holding hands with Zachary. “Are Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Elliot up yet?”
    â€œNo,” said Zachary. “Do you want to hear my Morris Fibley record?”
    Emma shook her head.
    â€œI’m sleepy,” she said, yawning.
    â€œDo you want me to make you divided grapefruit with a cherry in the middle?”
    â€œNo,” said Emma. “You hate grapefruit, Zach. And you don’t like to touch it.”
    â€œThat’s true,” agreed Zachary. He followed Emma into her bedroom and watched her get back into bed.
    â€œThere’s only kisses left, I guess.” He leaned over and gave Emma seven kisses in a row.
    Emma smiled. “That’s seven from you, seven from Uncle Elliot, and seven from Aunt Evelyn when they wake up,” she said. “How many is that, Zach?”
    â€œTwenty-one,” said Zachary. He thought a bit. Then he gave Emma one more kiss. He knew most times she liked things even.

Rules
    Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Elliot came with lots of rules. Rules