Jessi and the Bad Baby-Sitter Page 2

  On Mondays and Wednesdays it’s easy for me to be on time. I stroll in nice and early. But the Friday meetings are killers. On Fridays I have ballet lessons. Every Friday at the end of class I undress in a flash, race down the stairs of the school, and jump into Daddy’s waiting car. All the way from Stamford (where my ballet school is located) to Stoneybrook I pray that traffic isn’t too bad and that we make all the lights. Mostly, I arrive at the meeting on time, but I’ve received the Look on more than one Friday.

  Five-twenty-eight. Usually everyone had reached Claudia’s by now.

  “Stop worrying, Kristy,” said Claud. “They’ll all get here.” Even though she is the vice-president, (mostly because we use her room and phone) Claudia isn’t concerned about lateness. As Kristy was busy fretting over where everyone could be, Claudia was rummaging in the bottom drawer of her bureau. Just as I expected, she was looking for more junk food. “There you are,” she said, holding up a pack of frosted cupcakes.

  Claudia’s bedroom reminds me of a big puzzle where you have to find the hidden junk food. It’s stashed everywhere! Claudia has a weakness for it, but her parents don’t approve, so she hides it. (They don’t approve of her reading Nancy Drew books, either. So those are also hidden around the room.)

  Since Claudia is such a junk food lover, it’s a good thing she’s someone who can eat and eat and never gain weight. Despite all the junk, Claudia has a model’s figure. In fact, I think Claudia is gorgeous. She has long, silky black hair, beautiful, clear skin, and dark almond eyes. (She’s Japanese-American.) Not only does she have natural beauty, but she has a unique fashion sense that really works to set off her good looks. For example, today she was wearing an oversized white shirt under a black vest covered with a design of shiny beads. (She sewed the beads on it herself.) She wore neon green leggings and black ballet slippers (on which she’d sewn a matching bead design). From one of her pierced ears hung a dangling earring made from the same beads and on the other ear she wore a small green hoop earring. It was an original look that only Claudia could make work.

  Claudia is not only creative about her clothing, but she’s creative in other ways, too. She paints, sews, does pottery, calligraphy, and sculpts. If it’s creative, Claudia does it.

  She is completely disinterested in school. I think that’s because she would much rather be doing her artistic things. Or maybe it’s because she wants to be different from her sixteen-year-old sister, Janine, who is a real-life genius. Whatever the reason, Claudia only does enough schoolwork to squeak by.

  Claudia bit into her cupcake. “Anyone want some?” she offered through a mumble-mouth of chocolate.

  “No thanks,” said Kristy. “It’s five-twenty-nine. I don’t understand this.”

  Just then, Stacey McGill walked in and instantly checked the clock. A smile spread across her face. “All right!” she cried. “Made it!” She tossed her school backpack on the floor and sat on Claudia’s bed. “I was sitting for the Arnold twins and Mrs. Arnold was late getting home. I couldn’t be mad at her, though. As it was, she came home with wet hair. Her perm took longer than she expected. Perms can be a pain.”

  Stacey knows about perms since she wears her shoulder-length blonde hair in one. She’s very pretty and has the biggest blue eyes. Like Claudia, she also has a great fashion sense, although her clothing isn’t as “unique” as Claudia’s. Claudia and Stacey are definitely the two most sophisticated members of the club.

  Stacey is smart, too, a real math whiz. She’s the club treasurer, which means she collects the club dues and budgets the money so that we can help pay Claudia’s phone bill, pay Kristy’s brother to drive her to meetings, and resupply our Kid-Kits. She’s so good with budgeting that occasionally there’s even money left over for something fun like a pizza party or a trip to the movies.

  It would seem that Stacey has everything going for her, but she’s had more than her share of problems. For one thing, she’s a diabetic. That means her body can’t regulate the amount of sugar in her bloodstream. She has to eat a healthy diet, no sweets, and she has to give herself injections of insulin each day. (She says she’s used to giving herself the shots. I don’t think I would ever get used to that!) Stacey takes it seriously because she has to. If she doesn’t, she could faint or even go into a coma.

  Stacey has also moved around a lot. She’s originally from New York City. (Home of the New York City Ballet and the American Ballet Theater! If I lived there I think I’d love it as much as Stacey does.) Her family moved to Stoneybrook when her father’s business transferred him here. Then, just when Stacey had adjusted to the change, the company transferred Mr. McGill back to the city. And then, shortly after the move, her parents split up and Stacey came back to Stoneybrook with her mother. (Here’s something funny: My family moved into Stacey’s old house!) Stacey is what my dad would call “a survivor.” She has the ability to meet every challenge and make the best of it. She’s got a pretty sunny personality.

  Five-thirty! The moment had arrived.

  “This meeting is about to begin,” Kristy announced as she always did at the stroke of five-thirty.

  Just in time, Mary Anne Spier skidded breathlessly into the room. “Thank goodness,” she panted, looking at the clock. “I sat for Jackie Rodowsky today and he was more accident prone than ever. Just as I was rushing out the door to get here, he knocked over a huge bottle of root beer. It sprayed all over the place. I just had to help Mrs. Rodowsky clean it up.”

  That’s Mary Anne for you! She’s so nice she could never let Mrs. Rodowsky clean up alone. I think Mary Anne is one of the gentlest, kindest people I’ve ever met. She’s a great listener who cares deeply about people and cries easily. She’s very sensitive, and very organized.

  Mary Anne is the club secretary, and no one could be better at it. She keeps up the club record book, which contains the schedules of every single club member. (Things like my ballet classes, Claudia’s art classes, and Stacey’s visits with her dad are all in there.) That way, Mary Anne knows who is free to take a baby-sitting job.

  Mary Anne is Dawn’s stepsister. Even before they were stepsisters, they were best friends. They’re close as can be, but very different from one another. Unlike Dawn, who is tall with long blonde hair, Mary Anne is short and dark-haired. (Not long ago, she got her shoulder length brown hair cut into a very stylish short cut.) Dawn is a real health-food lover, but Mary Anne can’t stand the taste of tofu or bean sprouts. She eats regular food.

  Here’s the story of how they became stepsisters, which I promised to tell you. One day Mary Anne and Dawn were looking through Dawn’s mom’s old high school yearbooks and they made an amazing discovery. Dawn’s mom and Mary Anne’s dad had been boyfriend and girlfriend in high school. But Dawn’s mom went out to California to college and met Mr. Schafer, so, obviously, she and Mr. Spier never married. Now things were different, though. Mrs. Schafer was divorced and Mr. Spier was a widower. (Mrs. Spier died when Mary Anne was little.) Dawn and Mary Anne tried like anything to get their parents back together, and it worked! Well, not immediately, but after a lot of dating, their parents got married and moved into the old farmhouse Mrs. Schafer owned. (It is the coolest old place. It actually has a secret passageway that runs from Dawn’s bedroom to an old barn out back. It was part of the Underground Railroad at one time.)

  Mary Anne is pretty sad about Dawn’s leaving. Even though she knows Dawn needs to spend time with her dad and her brother, I think the separation is hard on her. For the time being, she’s lost a stepsister and a best friend.

  Another thing about Mary Anne is that she’s the only member of the club who has a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno. He’s this wonderful guy who is originally from Kentucky so he has a neat southern accent. Logan is an associate member of the club. That means he doesn’t come to meetings, but we call him if no one else is available to baby-sit, or if somebody gets sick.

  Shannon Kilbourne is our other associate member. She lives near Kristy and goe
s to a private school. We don’t know her all that well, but everyone likes her.

  Since Dawn left, we had been calling Shannon and Logan more than ever before. Unfortunately, Shannon was super busy with her school’s honor society and wasn’t available as often as she used to be.

  Speaking of people who were not around, I wondered where Mallory could be. She’s very responsible and it wasn’t like her not to show up without even calling.

  “Is Mallory sick?” Kristy asked me.

  “She was in school today,” I replied. “But she said she was feeling really tired. Want me to call her house?”

  “I’m here! I’m here!” said Mallory, trudging into the room. “Sorry I’m late. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Her sorries didn’t stop Kristy from giving her the Look, but Mallory didn’t seem to care. She just plopped on the floor beside me. “I fell asleep as soon as I got home from school and I overslept.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” Mary Anne asked. “Maybe you’re getting sick.”

  “Nothing hurts,” said Mal. “It’s just that I’m so tired.”

  “Everybody’s tired since Dawn left,” said Stacey. “We’ve all been baby-sitting too much.”

  “Maybe that’s it,” Mallory said dully.

  I was concerned. I’d never seen Mallory so dragged out before. As I’ve told you, she’s my very best friend, even though, at first glance, we don’t seem to have much in common. The first thing that hits some people is the color difference. I’m black, and Mallory is very fair, with curly red hair. She wears glasses and braces and I don’t. While I love to be physically active (especially when it comes to ballet), Mallory hates all sports (except for archery).

  One thing we do have in common is our love of reading. As I’ve mentioned, horse books are our favorite. We also love to baby-sit, and were thrilled when we were invited to become junior BSC members.

  Before she even took her first job, Mallory was a natural baby-sitter. Being the oldest of eight siblings means she’s been dealing with younger kids all her life. Her experience, combined with her wild imagination (she wants to write and illustrate children’s books when she grows up) make her a terrific baby-sitter.

  “It’s pretty clear to me that we have a problem,” Kristy said in her usual get-to-the-point way. “Every one of us is running late or over-sleeping because we have too much to do. We’re trying to fit too much in.”

  “Should we find someone to replace Dawn?” Stacey asked.

  Kristy rested her chin pensively on her fingertips. “I’m not sure. I’d like an alternate officer, though.”

  Dawn’s job as alternate officer meant she could take over the duties of anyone who had to miss a meeting. She’d done every job at least once.

  “On the other hand,” Kristy continued, “what will happen to the new member when Dawn returns? Seven main members is plenty. Eight would be too many. We can’t just ask someone to leave in six months.”

  “That’s true, but we can’t keep up like this,” said Claudia.

  “Maybe we’ve just had a very busy week,” Mary Anne said. “Things might not be so hectic by next —”

  She was cut off by the sound of the ringing phone. “Baby-sitters Club,” Claudia answered. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Wilder. Yes, the meeting is on now. We were just about to call you back.” As she spoke, Claudia grabbed a long yellow pad from her desk and began writing down the information Mrs. Wilder was giving her. “Okay, I’ll check it out and someone will get back to you right away,” she told Mrs. Wilder. Then she hung up and looked at Mary Anne who already had the record book open. “Mrs. Wilder needs someone to sit for Rosie from seven to nine next Saturday night,” Claudia reported.

  Mary Anne scanned the book as she spoke. “You’re free, Claudia and so is … so is … no one. You’re it, Claudia.”

  Claudia nodded. “Okay, I like Rosie now, even though she was a bit much at first. I guess since I live with a genius, I can understand Rosie.” (Rosie Wilder is very precocious and she knows it, although I think she’s funny.)

  The phone rang again. It was Dr. Johanssen wanting someone to sit for Charlotte. I took that job since it was on Sunday afternoon. Becca likes Charlotte so she could come with me and it would be an easy job.

  From that call on, the phone never stopped ringing. It was unbelievable — as if everyone in all of Stoneybrook was suddenly on the move, going here, there, and everywhere! The club members were all busy, either answering the phone, writing in the notebook, or discussing who was free to sit when. The movement in the room reminded me of a beehive with every busy bee buzzing around.

  The only one not buzzing was Mal. She had propped herself against the side of Claudia’s bed and fallen asleep.

  “Yes … sure … I’ll get back to you on that … no … yes … everything’s fine, it’s just that we’re pretty busy right now…. Okay, I’ll call you back.” Kristy put down the phone and sighed. It was our Wednesday meeting and things were nuts! “That was Mrs. Papadakis,” Kristy said to Mary Anne. “She needs someone for —”

  Before she could say another word, the phone rang again. “Baby-sitters Club,” Stacey answered while Kristy consulted with Mary Anne about who could sit for Mrs. Papadakis. “Oh, hi, Mr. Hill,” Stacey said. “Okay … I’ll call you right back. ’Bye.”

  I sat on the floor paying attention to what was going on, but I also had one eye on the door. That’s because I was waiting for Mallory. It was five-forty, and again, Mallory was late and hadn’t called.

  “Norman and Sarah Hill, seven o’clock this Friday,” Stacey sang out.

  “Hold on,” said Mary Anne. “I’m still working on the Papadakises. No one is available.”

  “Call Logan,” Kristy told Stacey.

  “About the Papadakises or the Hills?” Stacey asked.

  Kristy knit her brow thoughtfully. “The Papadakises — and then keep Logan on the line until we figure out if we need him for the Hills.”

  “Okay.” Stacey had her hand on the phone to call Logan when the phone rang again. “Baby-sitters Club,” she answered. “Hi, Mrs. Kuhn…. That’s probably okay. I’ll have to call you back, though.” She hung up and began writing on her pad. “Jake, Laurel, and Patsy Kuhn, this Thursday at six-thirty,” she called to Mary Anne.

  “That’s when Mrs. Papadakis needs a sitter,” Mary Anne told her.

  “So?” Stacey said.

  “I already told you, no one is available then.”

  “You did?” said Stacey.

  “Yes, she did. Don’t you remember? You were supposed to be calling Logan,” said Claudia as she sat cross-legged on her bed and wrote in the club notebook.

  “Oh, right,” said Stacey. She looked at her pad. “When did I say Mr. Hill needed a sitter?”

  No one answered. “Didn’t you write it down?” I asked.

  “I didn’t get the chance,” she said with a sigh. “Darn, now I’ll have to call him back.” Stacey was about to punch in Mr. Hill’s number when the phone rang again. “Baby-sitters Club…. Oh, Mallory! Where are you?”

  I studied Stacey’s expression as she spoke to Mallory. She looked serious and kept nodding her head. “Okay … uh-huh … gee … okay … I’ll tell everyone.”

  “What?” I asked as soon as she hung up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mallory says she’s so exhausted that she just can’t make it.” Stacey told us all. “She says Mary Anne shouldn’t schedule any jobs for her in case she’s getting sick.”

  Now I was really worried. Mallory had looked pale in school, but she insisted that she didn’t have a sore throat, not even a headache. Why was she so tired? It had to be something more serious than too much baby-sitting.

  “Oh great!” cried Kristy, flinging her arms into the air in exasperation. “Now we’re two members short.”

  “Poor Mallory,” said Mary Anne. “I hope it’s not serious.”

  “I care about Mallory, too,” Kristy cried. “But this is a disaster!”

  “Stay cool,” Claudia advi
sed. “Stacey, call Logan.”

  Stacey did, but Logan wasn’t home. Next she tried Shannon. She was available, but obviously one person couldn’t sit for both the Kuhns and the Papadakises at the same time.

  “Send her to the Papadakises, and we’ll try to get Logan for the Kuhns,” Kristy advised.

  Stacey said good-bye to Shannon and then called back Mrs. Papadakis.

  “See, we’ll work everything out,” Claudia said hopefully.

  “Mr. Hill!” Stacey cried, slapping her forehead. I forgot to call him back.” She phoned Mr. Hill and got the baby-sitting information again. “Seven on Friday,” she told Mary Anne.

  Mary Anne studied the record book and then shook her head slowly. “Nope, no good. Everyone is busy.”

  “Ask Shannon,” said Kristy.

  Stacey called Shannon back, but she wasn’t available.

  “Now what do we do?” Kristy cried.

  “If no one can sit, then no one can sit,” Claudia said philosophically. “We’ll just have to call Mr. Hill and tell him no one’s available. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “It is the end of the world!” Kristy disagreed with a frantic edge in her voice. “The whole purpose behind this club, the idea behind our business, is that when a client calls, he or she immediately gets a sitter. Anybody can call someone and not get a sitter. But when they call the BSC they are guaranteed to get a sitter every time! It’s what makes us so pop —”

  Once again, she was interrupted by the phone. “Sorry, Mrs. Kuhn, but I’m still working on it,” Stacey said. “Yes, I realize you need to know. I’m really sorry but this is a very busy time for us with Dawn away. Someone will get back to you.”

  The phone rang again. This time Kristy snatched it up. “Baby-sitters Club. Hi, Mr. Hill…. No, I’m still working on it…. You do? Well, uh, um, that’s all right…. Sure, I understand. But call us again and if something turns up for Friday I’ll call you right away. I mean, just in case you haven’t found another sitter yet. I’m sure someone will be available. I mean, we’re working on it and we’re hoping to hear from one of our associate sitters very shortly. All right. ’Bye.”