Princess by Ellen Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

onto every napkin she laid down. “But instead of adopting a dog, we adopted the Bean.”
    Charles looked down at the Bean. Sometimes Charles could hardly remember the Bean’s real name. It was Adam. But they had called him the Bean ever since he came to live with them when he was a tiny squirmy baby. “Just a little bean,” Mr. Peterson had said, and the name had stuck.
    The Bean grinned up at Charles and made a little woofing noise. “Even though he
thinks
he’s a dog, he’s not,” Charles pointed out. “He’s just a kid who likes to crawl around on the floor, beg for food, and sleep on a fleece dog bed.”
    “And carry his stuffed toys in his mouth,” Lizzie added.
    “It’s a phase,” their mom said, the way she always did. “He’ll get over it by the time he’s —”
    “Seventeen,” Charles finished, the way their dad always did. It was their dad’s favorite joke. Their mom didn’t think it was so funny.
    “Anyway,” Charles continued, “back then you said a baby and a dog were too much at once. You said we had to wait until the Bean was older. Well, now he
is.
He’s two and a half! He’s not a baby anymore.”
    “No, he’s not,” agreed his mother, a little sadly. She loved babies. And kittens. Just not puppies. Mr. Peterson always joked about his wife being a cat person, not a dog person. Mrs. Peterson always said she didn’t see anything wrong with that. She had grown up with cats and she was used to cats. But the other family members were not interested in cats. The rest of the family loved dogs.
    “So, why can’t we get a puppy?” Charles and Lizzie asked together.
    “Jinx,” Charles said to Lizzie. “Owe me a favor. You clear the table after we eat.”
    Lizzie stuck out her tongue. Charles grinned. He
always
said “jinx” first.
    “We
will
have a puppy,” their mother said. “Someday. When the time is right, and the puppy is right.”
    “But when will that be?” Charles asked. “When
I’m
seventeen?” Sometimes he felt as if he’d waited
forever
for a dog. It wasn’t fair. Everybody
else
had dogs. And nobody wanted one more than Charles and Lizzie and the Bean. Nobody would take better care of a dog, or teach it as many great tricks, or love it as much as they would.
    “We’ll know,” Mom said. “When the time is right, we’ll know.” She had that tone in her voice, the tone that meant it was time to change the subject.
    But Lizzie didn’t seem to notice. “If we had a dog, we’d all feel better,” she said. “Did you know that dog owners are happier, healthier, and more relaxed than people who don’t have dogs? Plus, having a dog teaches kids responsibility. And a dog can help to protect the house and save people from fires.”
    Mom held up both hands. “Enough!” she cried. “I’ve heard all your facts before, Lizzie, and I know they’re all true. I also know that puppies are a lot of work and cause a lot of mess and trouble.” She turned back to the skillet on the stove.
    Charles knew what she was thinking. Dogs shed fur all over the place. They chew things. They knock over garbage cans. They bark. There were lots of reasons for not getting a dog. Mom didn’t even have to spell it out anymore.
    Charles had only taken one bite of his breakfast when he heard his dad’s pickup pull into the driveway. A minute later, Dad trudged into the kitchen. His shoulders were slumped, his face was smudged with soot, and his hair was all flattened from being under his helmet.
    “Dad!” cried Lizzie, jumping up to hug him.
    “Hey, punkin,” he said tiredly.
    Charles noticed a big bulge underneath his dad’s jacket. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.
    Then he noticed that the bulge was moving.
    Charles came closer. The bulge was squiggling and squirming all over the place.
    Dad smiled and pulled the zipper of his coat down a few inches.
    “Meet Goldie,” he said. Charles saw two chocolate-brown eyes, a pair of floppy ears, a twitching black nose, and