Get Well Soon, Mallory! Read online

  I closed my eyes and held my breath.

  “And no Baby-sitters Club.”

  I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. My voice was quivering when I spoke. “But, Mom, the Baby-sitters Club is one of the most important things in the world to me!”

  “I know that. Believe me, this was a very tough decision to make.”

  Dad sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “We’re only thinking of you. Your health comes first.”

  By now, tears were rolling down my cheeks. “This is terrible,” I moaned. “Everyone will think I’m letting them down.”

  “Mallory, it’s not forever,” Mom said. “Just until you’re back to normal.”

  “But you don’t understand. The BSC needs me. With Dawn gone, we’re shorthanded already.”

  “Maybe they can get a temporary replacement,” Dad suggested.

  “No!” I cried. “The last person we got was a total disaster. She didn’t follow club rules, she took jobs on her own. Luckily she quit, otherwise Kristy would have had to fire her.”

  I was starting to feel hysterical and I couldn’t catch my breath. It was hard enough falling behind in school and missing my friends. How would I live without the BSC?

  “I know how much the club means to you, Mallory,” Mom said. “But your father’s right. We’re doing what’s best for you.”

  Deep down inside I knew what Mom was saying was the truth, but it still hurt. A lot.

  After my parents left my room, I stared at the phone. There was a call that I had to make but I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “Kristy,” I said when she answered. “It’s me, Mallory.”

  “Mal! How are you feeling? We really miss you.”

  I bit my lip and tried to keep a steady voice.

  “I miss you, too. Kristy, I have bad news.” I had to swallow hard before I could say the next sentence. “Mom and Dad said I have to drop out of the BSC for a while.”

  There was a long silence. Finally Kristy murmured, “Mallory, I’m sorry. You must feel terrible.”

  I nodded, too upset to speak. Finally I said, “Look, Kristy, I can’t really talk now, but I just thought you should know so you could start finding a replacement.”

  After I said good-bye to Kristy, I instantly dialed Jessi.

  “You can’t quit!” was Jessi’s response when I told her my bad news. “The BSC needs you. I need you.”

  “I need you, too, Jessi, but Mom and Dad won’t budge. They say I’m too sick for anything but schoolwork and getting well.”

  “Oh, Mal,” Jessi said. “This is awful.” Her voice broke and I knew she was about to cry.

  That did it for me. I burst into tears and just sobbed and sobbed.

  I must have fallen asleep after my phone calls because the next thing I heard was a knock on my door. Mom ducked her head in and asked softly, “Mallory, are you awake?”

  “Hmmm?” I said, drowsily.

  “Are you ready to receive guests?”

  “I guess so,” I said, rubbing my eyes, which were puffy from crying. I sat up in bed and tried to look alert.

  Jessi appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Mal!”

  She ran across the room and we hugged each other. Mom shut the door and left us alone.

  “I can’t believe it,” Jessi said, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe it.”

  “This is the worse thing that has ever happened to me,” I said. I could feel my throat start to tighten again.

  “Look,” Jessi went on, “I can only stay a minute. Kristy has called an emergency BSC meeting. I’m going over to Claudia’s now.”

  I fell back against my pillows. “She probably wants to find a replacement for me right away.”

  “I don’t think that’s all she wants to talk about,” Jessi said. “But I’ll report to you as soon as I can.”

  “Would you, Jessi?”

  “Of course. As soon as it’s over, I’ll run back here.”

  “Thanks.” I squeezed her hand. “You’re a good friend.”

  After Jessi left I stared at the ceiling trying to imagine what was happening at Claudia’s house. Kristy would be sitting in the director’s chair, Mary Anne would be cross-legged on the bed, Stacey and Claudia would be beside her, and Jessi would be on the floor in front of the bed. Next to her would be an empty place. Mine.

  “The emergency meeting of the Baby-sitters Club is called to order,” Kristy would announce. “I’ve got some really bad news. Mallory has to quit the club.”

  Everyone would be shocked and then Claudia would probably say, “We’re dropping like flies. First Dawn, and now Mallory.”

  “We need to act on this right away,” Kristy would say.

  I closed my eyes and murmured, “And then they’ll replace me.”

  It was hard to imagine my life without the BSC. No more meetings. No more baby-sitting, or talent shows, or backyard circuses, or group hikes. No more pizza parties. No more fun.

  I pointed the remote control at the TV and numbly flipped through the channels. “Sports. Nothing but sports. Doesn’t anybody watch anything but football and golf on Sundays?”

  After I’d circled the channels a few times, I tried to do some homework. It was too hard to concentrate. All I could think about was the BSC meeting. Luckily for me, Jessi appeared before I completely lost my mind.

  She was smiling when she came in. “First of all, everyone says hi,” she announced as she sat on the foot of my bed.

  “Who’s everyone?”

  “Everyone else in the BSC, including Logan and Shannon.”

  “I’m surprised they all made it to the meeting on such short notice.”

  “This was very important. Claudia skipped an art class, and Logan missed football practice.”

  “Wow.” I was impressed.

  “Okay. Here’s how it went.” Jessi settled herself comfortably on the bed. “First Kristy called the meeting to order and broke the news.”

  “Was everybody shocked?”

  “And terribly upset. They all said it was unfair of your parents to make you quit. Claud wanted to write your parents a letter of protest and have us all sign it.”

  “You mean, a petition?” I asked with a laugh.

  Jessi grinned. “Then Logan suggested we make signs and march around in front of your house, shouting things like ‘Unfair!’ and ‘Free Mallory!’ ”

  I fell back against my pillow, giggling.

  “But it was Mary Anne who said we should accept your parents’ decision as long as it was just temporary. So we took a vote.”

  “And?”

  “It was unanimous. Nobody wants to replace you.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re too valuable a member to lose. We decided just to muddle through the best we can until you’re well again.”

  “Oh, Jessi!”

  Jessi squeezed my hand. “That’s when Kristy suggested we name you an honorary BSC member until you return.”

  “An honorary member.” I tried out the words and then beamed at Jessi. “I like it.”

  Jessi stood up. “And as honorary member, it is your duty to get well soon. Understand?”

  I saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jessi grinned at me. Then she walked to the bedroom door. Just before she left she turned and said softly, “I’m really glad we aren’t going to replace you.”

  “Me, too,” I replied with a smile.

  Jessi shut the door and I sank happily back into my pillows. Pulling my quilt up to my chin, I murmured once again, “Me, too.”

  On Monday I was still feeling numb from my parents’ announcement. I sat on the couch downstairs and watched my brothers and sisters get ready for school. The moment when everyone is actually supposed to leave is usually pretty zooey and today was no exception.

  “Where’s my homework?” Byron bellowed, rifling through the backpacks by the front door. He held up a blue notebook.

  “That’s mine,” Adam protested. “Gi
ve it back.”

  “I can’t find my boot,” Nicky wailed.

  “My hair looks terrible,” Vanessa grumbled as she stood in front of the hall mirror, struggling with a comb. “There’s a knot in it. I can’t go to school with a knot in my hair.”

  “Mom, I hope you didn’t make tuna sandwiches again,” Margo said. “I’m getting sick of tuna.”

  Mom stood at the front door in her bathrobe with six bag lunches in her hands (Claire is always at home for lunch because kindergarten is only a half day). Her voice was very calm as she said, “Byron, your homework is in the den where you left it. Nicky, your other boot is in the front closet and, no, Margo, you’re not getting tuna. Today is ham-and-cheese day.” Then she turned to Vanessa. “If you’ll wait half a second, I’ll brush your hair.”

  When the kids had left, Mom shut the door and sighed. “Another week has begun.”

  I would have laughed but I was suddenly hit with a case of the blues. Another week had begun but nothing had changed. I was still in my pajamas, still just lying on the couch, and still feeling lousy.

  I thought about all the things that were happening at school. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away and the halls were probably covered with pictures of turkeys and Pilgrims and cornucopias. Skits were being rehearsed in most of the classrooms. And kids were already making plans to get together over the holiday.

  “At least we still have our New York trip,” I murmured. “That’s something to look forward to.”

  Mom had gone into the kitchen to clean up the rest of the breakfast dishes and heard me muttering to myself. “Did you want something, Mallory?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I moaned. “I want to get well.”

  Mom sat beside me on the couch and smoothed her hand over my forehead. “Being sick is no fun,” she said. “I know.”

  “I just wish there was some pill or medicine I could take that would make me better.”

  “Maybe there is something,” Mom said. “We’ll ask Dr. Dellenkamp. You have an appointment with her this morning.”

  “I do?” I sat up, excited. “I’ll go get dressed right now.”

  This may sound stupid, but I’d spent so much time lying around the house that the thought of actually getting dressed and going somewhere was thrilling. Even if the somewhere was just the doctor’s office, I didn’t care. At least I was getting out.

  An hour later Mom and I were in the car. I savored every minute of the drive. “Look, Mom, the grocery store has turkeys on sale. And look over at the drugstore. They’ve got a scarecrow in the window with all those little pumpkins. Isn’t that cute?”

  Mom looked at me sideways. “Boy, you really are going stir crazy.”

  We didn’t have to wait long at Dr. Dellenkamp’s, which was kind of disappointing. When I’m there I like to read all those magazines that Mom never buys. The nurse weighed me and I’d lost five pounds. (Not good. My jeans were starting to look really baggy.) Then she took me to an examining room, where she checked my blood pressure and took my temperature. Dr. Dellenkamp and my mom came in a few minutes later.

  “Your mother tells me you’re not enjoying being cooped up at home.” Dr. Dellenkamp felt the glands in my neck and under my arms and listened to my heart while she talked.

  “I hate it,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t blame you.” Dr. Dellenkamp tucked her stethoscope back in her pocket. “Unfortunately, with mono, the only cure is bed rest.”

  “But for how long?” I asked. “I feel like I’ve been in bed forever.”

  Dr. Dellenkamp pursed her lips and looked at Mom. “In some cases, a full recovery can take as long as three months.”

  “Three months!” I gasped. “But that’s terrible. I’ll miss December and January.”

  “It might even stretch into February.”

  “I’ll miss so much school they’ll flunk me!”

  “Now, don’t panic,” Dr. Dellenkamp said in her best comforting voice (which wasn’t very comforting). “You’re a good student. As long as you keep up with your homework, no one will think about holding you back. And if you do get too far behind, there’s always summer school.”

  “Summer school?” My chin was starting to quiver. First I was being told that I might not be able to do anything for half the school year. Then they were telling me I might miss summer vacation. I looked at Mom and stammered, “T-t-tell her I can’t. I won’t.”

  Mom put her arm around my shoulder. “Dr. Dellenkamp didn’t say you had to go to summer school. She’s just trying to let you know that this is not as terrible as you may think.”

  Dr. Dellenkamp nodded. “Your progress is going slowly, but that doesn’t mean it will always be that way. You may see a real improvement in a few weeks. We’ll just have to take this one day at a time.”

  Things seemed to be going from bad to worse. I looked out the window as we drove home but this time I didn’t notice anything. My eyes were too blurred with tears.

  The one bright spot in my day was Jessi’s visit. She stopped by before the BSC meeting. I told her my news.

  “So who knows when my parents will let me baby-sit again,” I said finally. “Probably never.”

  “You’re just feeling depressed,” Jessi said gently. “They’ll let you baby-sit again. And until they do, you don’t have to worry. The BSC won’t replace you.”

  “That’s really nice,” I said. “But what if I am sick for three months, like Dr. Dellenkamp said? You guys will be working yourselves to the bone, trying to keep up with my sitting jobs.”

  “Relax,” Jessi said. “We can handle it.”

  I was beginning to feel that I wasn’t being fair to the rest of the club. Maybe they should replace me. I decided not to talk about it. Instead, I switched the subject.

  “How’s the Thanksgiving project coming?” I asked.

  “We’re definitely going to put together those baskets for Stoneybrook Manor but we haven’t decided how we’re going to raise the money for the food and supplies. We better think of something soon. Thanksgiving is only two weeks away.”

  “A Saturday car wash might be a good fundraiser,” I suggested. “People probably want their cars to look nice for the holiday.”

  Jessi pulled a pad of paper out of her book-bag and wrote down the idea. “We could bake cookies and sell them at the car wash,” she added.

  “We could also ask people to donate money to sponsor a basket. Then we could put their names in the basket.”

  “Good idea!” Jessi said. “We could include cards that say, ‘To Mr. Jones from Mr. or Ms. Whomever and the BSC.’ ”

  I gestured to my bedroom. “I’m stuck in here so I’m not much good at a car wash, but I could make phone calls and look for sponsors.”

  “That would be a big help,” said Jessi, sounding relieved. “Now that we’re two baby-sitters short, no one has very much spare time.”

  I know Jessi didn’t mean to hurt me, but her words just underlined my fear that the BSC members were now working too hard because of me.

  “If we do decide on a bake sale,” Jessi added, “you could also make cookies.”

  “If Mom will let me. She and Dad barely let me do anything.” I winced. “They may not even let me make phone calls.”

  Jessi patted my shoulder. “You talk to your parents and I’ll talk to the BSC. In the meantime, we also have to think of what we could do when we present our baskets at Stoneybrook Manor.”

  “You mean, put on a Thanksgiving skit or something?”

  Jessi shook her head. “Kristy said the people there see skits all the time. She wants us to think of something else. Something more unusual.”

  I scratched my head. “That’ll take some thinking.” Then I laughed for the first time since Jessi arrived. “Time is the one thing I have plenty of.”

  Jessi checked her wristwatch. “Oops. Not me. I better run. The meeting starts in ten minutes. Write down any other ideas you come up with and call me later. I’ll tell everyone
about the car wash and sponsors.”

  “Be sure and let them know I’m ready and willing to make calls for the fundraiser.”

  “They’ll be glad to hear that.” Jessi gave me a hug. “See? You may be stuck in bed, but as an honorary member you’re doing everybody a lot of good.”

  I tried to feel encouraged, but deep down inside I didn’t. Jessi’s words kept running over and over in my head: “Now that we’re two baby-sitters short, nobody has any spare time.”

  Most of the BSC members had already arrived at Mary Anne’s when Jessi showed up with Buddy, Marnie, and Suzi Barrett. Stacey and Charlotte Johanssen were busy chatting in one corner of the barn with Mary Anne and the Arnold twins. Logan had offered to bring along my brothers, who were playing hide-and-seek in the horse stalls. Becca and Margo and Claire had come with Claudia, who was showing them the door to the secret passage leading to Mary Anne’s house.

  “Oh, boy!” Buddy cried as Jessi and the Barrett kids walked through the big red barn doors. “Let’s go jump in the hay!”

  Before Jessi could say, “Wait a minute,” Buddy had run for the nearest mound of hay and hurled himself at it.

  “Ouch!” a voice cried from under Buddy. “What’s the big idea?”

  Buddy scrambled for the side of the stall. “Something’s in there!” he gasped, wide-eyed.

  “I think you mean someone,” Jessi replied with a laugh. “That’ll teach you to leap before you look.”

  Nicky stuck his head out of the straw and looked around. “Who jumped on my head?”

  “I did!” Buddy said, bending his knees. “Want me to do it again?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Jessi cried, catching Buddy’s arm. “This is a meeting, not a free-for-all.”

  “EEEEEK!” a voice squealed from the far side of the barn. It was Charlotte Johanssen. “I saw a mouse.”

  In a flash every kid had raced to Charlotte’s corner.

  “Where?” Byron demanded.

  “Under the hay.” Charlotte pointed to a metal feeding through by one of the stalls. “It was icky with red beady eyes.”

  “Maybe it was a rat!” Jordan announced with glee. That set off a round of shrieks from Becca and the Arnold twins.