Baby-Sitters Beware Read online

  We don’t take the Kid-Kits to every job. We save them for rainy days, or for kids who are in bed with colds, or for times when we think we might need something extra to help a job go smoothly. And you know what? They work, almost every time.

  Mary Anne maintains the club record book, where she records each job and keeps a calendar of other things the BSC members do, such as my special ballet lessons in Stamford at Mme. Noelle’s, every Tuesday and Friday afternoon after school. The record book also has a list of all our clients, with their addresses and phone numbers, plus any special information we might need.

  Kristy runs a tight ship. Someday, I’m sure, she’ll be running a bigger ship, such as a major corporation (or maybe Congress) in much the same way.

  Of course, our success isn’t all due to organization. We can also congratulate ourselves on being very, very good at what we do. (I’m not bragging, just stating a fact. We wouldn’t be successful if we weren’t good, would we?) I think one of the reasons the BSC is such a solid club is because we are all so different. I know you’ve heard it before, that opposites attract. But in this case, it’s really true. We all get along, most of the time, even though our group is filled with pairs of opposites.

  For example, Kristy and Mary Anne are best friends. It’s true that they have a lot in common: They are both short, each lost a parent early on, they are both very organized and responsible, and they both live in blended families now.

  But Kristy is outspoken and outgoing and sometimes almost too blunt. She gets her point across, and she won’t take “no” for an answer. (Although she certainly doesn’t hesitate to use it as an answer herself!) Kristy, who has brown hair and brown eyes, wears a sort of uniform of her own — jeans and sneakers and a sweater or T-shirt. She is also athletic, and coaches a softball team called Kristy’s Krushers, made up of little kids whose ages range from two and a half to eight.

  Mary Anne is shy and not athletic. (I can’t imagine her as a coach, standing on the field blowing her whistle and running a practice!) She is very sensitive and cries easily. Even commercials can make her cry. Unlike Kristy, who has always lived in a larger than average family, Mary Anne was the only child of an only parent for a long time. Her mother died when Mary Anne was just a baby, so Mr. Spier raised Mary Anne alone. He wanted to make sure that he did it right (and he clearly did) so he was very, very strict. It took Mary Anne awhile to make him see that she wouldn’t be a little girl who needed little-girl rules forever. Gradually he loosened up (especially after Mary Anne showed him how responsible she was already) and now she doesn’t have to wear little kid clothes (or braids!) anymore. He’s even calm about the fact that Logan (yes, one of the associate members of the BSC) is Mary Anne’s steady boyfriend. In fact, her father is pretty all-around reasonable these days.

  And that’s not just because of Mary Anne. Dawn Schafer had something to do with it, too.

  How?

  Well, Dawn and Mary Anne became best friends not long after Dawn moved to Stoneybrook, with her mother and brother, from California. Dawn’s mother had grown up in Stoneybrook and was returning after she and Dawn’s father divorced. Soon Dawn and Mary Anne discovered that Dawn’s mom and Mary Anne’s dad had been high-school sweethearts. They put their heads together and gave the old romance a new push, and it worked! Sharon Schafer became Sharon Schafer Spier, and Mary Anne and her father (and her kitten, Tigger) moved into the old farmhouse where Dawn and her mom were living. (Dawn’s brother, Jeff, had moved back to California before the wedding.)

  Since Dawn and Mary Anne were best friends, they were pleased that they could be sisters, too. Here’s another case of very different people getting along. Dawn, who is tall and has long, straight blonde hair and blue eyes, and two holes pierced in each earlobe, is quiet but not at all shy. And she has very strong feelings about things. She’s practically a vegetarian. She avoids all sweets (she calls sugar poison!), and is careful about what she eats. She’s very environmentally conscious, too.

  We miss Dawn, and I know Mary Anne misses her most of all.

  Claudia and Stacey are best friends, too. They are both a little more fashion conscious than the rest of us. Stacey’s sense of style has a New York spin to it, while Claudia’s is more artistic. For example, for this early December meeting when most of us were in jeans and sweaters, Stacey (who is tall and on the thin side, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes) wore black leggings with cowboy boots, an oversized turtleneck sweater, and this cool black suede vest with pearl buttons. Claudia (who is Japanese-American with creamy, perfect skin, brown eyes, and long, straight black hair) was wearing leggings, too — purple ones — with black Doc Martens, red slouch socks, black bicycle shorts over the leggings, a big T-shirt with the words “This Might Be Art” scrawled on it in purple (I knew she’d made it herself), and an old black suit jacket of her father’s, with the sleeves rolled up. Stacey had gone for your basic gold earrings. Claudia’s earrings were purple feathers (she made those herself, too).

  They both looked fantastic. I think they would have drawn admiring looks from people even on a crowded street in New York.

  But even though they are best friends, like Mary Anne and Kristy, and Mary Anne and Dawn, Claudia and Stacey are very, very different.

  For example, when it comes to school, Claudia would rather be anywhere else — maybe even the dentist’s. She is not a good student, and she is what you might call a creative speller. Although she’s an extremely talented artist, maybe even a genius, her teachers and her parents still insist, to her complete puzzlement, that other school stuff is important, too.

  Claudia tries, but she often needs help. And her parents still go over her homework with her every night.

  To make it tougher, Claudia’s sister, Janine, is a real, live, academic-type genius. Even though she’s only in high school, she’s already taking courses at the local college.

  But Claudia manages not to let it bother her, most of the time. She goes on seeing the world her way, making art, and appreciating junk food and Nancy Drew mysteries (two more things about their younger daughter that mystify Claud’s parents). She’s even managed to combine her love of junk food with her art, by organizing an art show based on junk food.

  Claudia is the vice-president of the BSC, mostly because she’s the only one of us who has her own phone line in her room. That lets us receive calls from clients and call them back without tying up anybody’s family telephone line. Claudia doesn’t have any official duties, but she makes it her unofficial duty to see that we are well supplied with junk food, plus a little healthy food on the side, for every meeting, something we all appreciate.

  The health food is mostly for Stacey. It used to be for Dawn, too, and of course we all can eat it. But unlike the rest of us, Stacey can’t eat junk, not the sugary kind, anyway. And she has to watch what she eats very, very carefully.

  That’s because Stacey has diabetes, which means her body can’t regulate the sugar in her blood. She could get very, very sick if she isn’t careful — even go into a coma. It also means that she has to give herself insulin injections every single day.

  For a long time, Stacey’s parents were just as overprotective of Stacey in their way as Mary Anne’s father was of her. But Stacey finally managed to convince them that she could be trusted to take care of herself. And she does.

  As BSC treasurer, she also takes care of our dues. Stacey is a math whiz, and good at other subjects in school, too. She’s a little more sophisticated than the rest of us, most of the time. In fact, right now she’s dating a guy named Robert who hangs out with a crowd at SMS that thinks they are too cool to talk to mere mortals. Robert’s not like that, but Stacey was drawn into that crowd for a while, which caused some trouble in the BSC. Boy, am I glad that is all over!

  Anyway, Stacey’s an only child, like Mary Anne, but unlike Mary Anne or Kristy or Dawn, she’s not part of a blended family. Her mother and father got divorced not too long ago. Now her father lives in New York City, wh
ile Stacey lives here in Stoneybrook with her mom. Stacey visits her father in New York often, so she maintains her New York cool. But then, it’s hard to shake Stacey up. She’s one of the calmest, most level-headed people I know.

  Mal and I are the third set of best friends in the BSC. We are both in sixth grade and we both love horses and horse stories, especially the ones by Marguerite Henry. We also like mysteries, and we are the oldest kids in our families, which is a big help for a baby-sitter, experience-wise. But while Mal is the oldest of eight kids (including a set of triplets) I have just one younger sister, Becca, who is eight, and one younger brother, John Philip, also known as Squirt (he’s a toddler). My aunt Cecelia lives with us, to help keep an eye on us since my mom went back to her old job.

  Mal has blue eyes, curly reddish brown hair, and pale skin that burns and freckles easily. She wears braces and glasses and dreams of the day her braces come off and her parents allow her to have contact lenses. Mal likes to write and draw, and wants to be a children’s book author and illustrator someday. She’s already won prizes for her writing, and she even had a temporary job helping out a famous children’s book writer who lives in Stoneybrook.

  I like to dance. In fact, I want to be a ballerina someday. I get up every morning at 5:29 A.M., one minute before my alarm goes off, to practice my ballet moves at the barre that my parents set up for me in the basement of our house. I am a little taller than Mal, and thinner, and I have brown skin and brown eyes. I guess I’m inclined to wear ballet style clothes (Mal is a jeans and sweater person, more like Kristy). I often wear my hair pulled back in a bun, and leotards and leg warmers are fashion accessories for me as well as dance necessities.

  Both Mal and I wear earrings because we were recently allowed to have our ears pierced, the first victory in our ongoing battle to convince our parents to treat us more like adults.

  Meanwhile, we are the youngest members of the BSC and the junior officers. We’re junior officers because we can’t baby-sit at night, except for our own families. So we do a lot of afternoon and weekend daytime sitting, which frees the other club members to take jobs at night.

  The newest member of the BSC is Abby Stevenson, who has a twin sister, Anna. They look alike — they are both medium height with dark curly hair and brown eyes and pointed faces — but Anna wears her hair short while Abby wears hers long. They both have contacts and glasses, and wear either one, depending on how they feel. Abby is our alternate officer, which means she fills in for other officers in the club when they can’t make it to a meeting.

  The Stevensons just moved here from Long Island, because Mrs. Stevenson landed a great new job in New York City, to which she commutes every single day — plus most Saturdays, and some Sundays. That leaves Abby and Anna pretty free to do what they want.

  Come to think of it, I can’t imagine anyone preventing Abby from doing exactly as she pleases. She’s been in the BSC for just a little while, but she is what Stacey calls One Tough Cookie. She stands up to Kristy, and is as firm in her opinions as Kristy is. Abby loves jokes, especially puns. Sometimes she even makes them in two languages, because Abby speaks a little Yiddish. Yiddish is a language that was spoken mostly by Jewish people in Eastern Europe, where Abby’s mother’s family is from.

  Abby’s also a born athlete. I don’t think there’s a sport she doesn’t play, and she seems to take to them all naturally. Right now she’s playing on the soccer team. And she runs miles when she’s not practicing soccer (or some other sport) to keep her competitive edge. I haven’t seen Abby play soccer yet, but if she runs as fast as she talks, she should have no problem. She is always in high gear and high spirits. One other thing about Abby is that she has allergies to all kinds of things, including milk and many animals that have fur. (Her motto is: “Life makes me sneeze.”) She also has asthma. Like Stacey, Abby has to be careful about what she eats, and she has to carry an inhaler with her at all times. An inhaler is a small, tube-shaped device. When Abby has trouble breathing, she holds it to her mouth and takes a breath out of it. It helps when she’s having an allergic reaction, or feels an asthma attack coming on.

  Shannon and Logan are our associate members. Like Abby, Shannon is a neighbor of Kristy’s. In fact, she’s the one who gave Kristy’s family their Bernese mountain dog puppy, after the Thomases’ wonderful old collie, Louie, died. The puppy was one of a litter that Shannon’s dog had had. David Michael named the puppy Shannon, in Shannon’s (the person’s) honor.

  Logan is not only a member of the BSC but, as you know, Mary Anne’s boyfriend. He’s definitely cute (Mary Anne thinks he looks like Cam Geary, her favorite star), plus he has a nice, soft Southern accent, and he’s very easy-going. He’s also a super jock. His main sports are baseball and track. It’s good to know that we can count on Logan and Shannon in a pinch.

  Like now. Kristy had just hung up the phone. “Mrs. Rodowsky,” she reported.

  We all grinned. The Rodowsky family is one of our favorites, maybe in part because the three Rodowsky boys for whom we baby-sit make it clear that we are their favorites, too. They’ve even gotten together with the Arnold twins and Matt and Haley Braddock and treated the BSC to lunch to show their appreciation. Shea, who is nine, is a terrific athlete and all-around good sport. Jackie, his seven-year-old brother, is so accident-prone that we call him “the Walking Disaster.” (If he hits a home run, it’s sure to break a window!) It never seems to bother him, though. He just grins and keeps going. And while we’re not sure where on the athletic spectrum four-year-old Archibald Rodowsky fits yet, he, like his brothers, has red hair and a boundless supply of good humor.

  Unfortunately, none of us could take the job. We all had other jobs or activities scheduled. So Mary Anne called Logan (naturally she knows his phone number by heart) and Logan took the job. Since he lives a few streets over from Reilly Lane, where the Rodowskys live, it worked out perfectly.

  Meanwhile, I watched Kristy zip over to the window and back again three or four times.

  “Santa’s not expected until late December,” said Abby, grinning.

  Kristy rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait that long. I want snow now.”

  “You still have two weeks,” I said. “Anything could happen. Even a blizzard.”

  “Speaking of blizzards,” said Kristy, “you should have seen this awful old movie David Michael and Karen were watching on TV Friday night. It was called It Came From the Snow. This thing kept lunging up out of the snow and grabbing skiers with its claws. It makes my top ten Worst Movies of All Time list. It was terrible.”

  “They loved it, right?” asked Stacey.

  “Right,” said Kristy. She glanced toward the window again.

  “Snow is a kind of insulation,” said Claudia unexpectedly. This is not the sort of fun fact that Claudia usually comes out with. She went on, while we all stared at her, “It helps keep the freezing weather from killing the plants. Janine was talking about it at dinner last night.”

  “Tell it to my parents,” said Mal, almost crossly.

  “Do I sense a dislike of insulation here?” I teased Mal.

  Mal said, “I told my parents about the trip to Shadow Lake. I told them that this time, there wouldn’t be any insects. I told them I’d get to ski. And what did they say? Insulation. That’s all they talk about.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have me there,” I pointed out.

  Mal sighed.

  “Thanks a lot!” I said, pretending to be indignant.

  Mal sighed again. “It’s not that, Jessi. It’s just that the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try Shadow Lake when it was bug-free.”

  “Well, don’t worry,” said Kristy. “We’ll be going back. You can come with us next time.”

  A third sigh escaped from Mal, but at least she looked more cheerful. She managed to give us a small smile. “Okay,” she said. Then she added, “Except that, with my luck, something really weird will happen on this trip, and you’ll never go back.”

&nb
sp; Kristy held up her hands like claws. She made a hideous face. “It came from the snow….” she intoned, and we all cracked up.

  The sports committee is sort of bogus, but I figured I should be there, and I figured Kristy should, too. It wasn’t too hard to talk her into going to a meeting to express her opinion. In this instance, it was a meeting to solicit student input about fund-raising for various sports programs at the school, and where the funds we were going to raise should be spent. I wanted to be there to put in a word for soccer. And Kristy, who’d been on the softball team, had a few words to say, too.

  The teachers and coaches wrote down our comments and smiled and nodded and thanked us for our “input.” I knew what that meant. They’d do what they wanted and we’d let them, unless we felt like putting up a big fuss about some really heinous use of the funds, such as painting the locker rooms plaid.

  I’d stuck my nametag on my jacket. Kristy, who was wearing her collie cap, had put the nametag on the front of the cap. We were headed for the BSC meeting at Claudia’s, goofing around as we went. At first, the sound of breaking glass didn’t even register.

  Then we stopped talking.

  “Did you hear that?” asked Kristy.

  “Yup,” I said. “And as an experienced baby-sitter, I think it is definitely the sound of glass breaking.”

  “We’re near the Rodowskys,” said Kristy. “They live next door. Oh, lord, I bet Jackie’s hit another baseball through someone’s window.”

  She took off in the direction of the sound. Since I am unwilling at any time to let anyone leave me in the dust, especially Kristy, I took two giant leaps after her and caught up. We jogged around the side of the house and looked toward the Rodowskys’.