Claudia and Crazy Peaches Read online

  When we had the bedroom fitted out, we moved on to other large equipment. The car seat and swing were easy. Peaches just referred to her Consumer Reports list. We did have to choose between “Rock-a-bye Baby” and “Frére Jacques” for the tune the baby swing would play.

  “It’s a matter of choosing one you won’t mind listening to a few thousand times,” the saleslady said, with a twinkle in her eye.

  “The bear mobile already plays ‘Rock-a-bye Baby,’ ” I pointed out to Peaches. “And I bet people will give you plenty of wind-up toys and music boxes that play that song, too.”

  Peaches patted me on the shoulder. “You sold me. We’ll take ‘Frére Jacques.’ ”

  Then we moved on to my favorite section — the baby clothes. (Major ooh! ah! time.)

  “We don’t know yet whether it’s going to be a girl or a boy,” Peaches said. “But I’ve always hated that old ‘Girls have to wear pink, and boys have to wear blue’ routine. Why don’t we each pick out a couple of outfits we like in the newborn to six month size, and take it from there?”

  “Everything is so tiny. It’s just too cute for words,” I said as I held up sleeper after sleeper.

  “Look at these socks!” Peaches held up a pink ruffled sock that could have fit on her thumb. “It’s hard to believe a baby’s foot could be so small.”

  Just talking about how little and precious a baby is brought tears to our eyes. I would have felt silly crying in any other store, but I could tell by the saleslady’s reaction that she was used to it. Even her eyes looked a little misty.

  Peaches had the saleslady ring everything up (the sales ticket was two feet long!) and made arrangements for the furniture, the car seat, and the other big items to be delivered later, to the new house. But we both agreed that we wanted to take the baby clothes with us so that we could ooh! and ahh! with Russ, Mom, Dad, and Janine back at home.

  While Peaches was signing the credit card form at the cash register, I looked at baby blankets. Several of the ones on display had been knit by hand. They were just beautiful. I made a mental note of one in particular, a pale lavender throw laced with delicate little designs at the top and bottom. I knew I wanted Mary Anne to help me knit a blanket like that one.

  We hauled the packages out to the car and tossed them in the back. As Peaches settled in behind the wheel she turned to me and said, “That was a blast. What should we do now?”

  “Do?” Frankly, I was kind of tired from our shopping spree and I had figured Peaches would be completely worn out. I remember Mrs. Newton was always taking naps when she was pregnant.

  “I’m too excited to just go home,” Peaches said as she started the engine. “What do you say we go to the movies?”

  “I’d love to,” I said, “but …”

  “But what?” Peaches demanded.

  “I have homework.”

  “Homework on a Saturday?” Peaches waved one hand at me. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s what Sundays are for.”

  I knew that if I waited until Sunday to do my homework, I might not finish it. Then Monday would roll around and I’d be in a panic. Besides, I had a baby-sitting job on Sunday.

  “I’m supposed to sit for the Barretts tomorrow,” I explained.

  “So take your homework with you,” Peaches suggested. “Or get up early tomorrow morning and I’ll help you. And what I don’t know, Russ can fill in. Or — do it tonight.”

  Peaches was very convincing. I have to admit, I love spur-of-the-moment decisions and after all, it was Saturday. Most kids in America go out and have fun on Saturdays.

  “Okay,” I grinned. “You sold me. Let’s go to the movies.”

  We hurriedly bought a newspaper to see what movies were playing. Peaches is so crazy. She suggested we just close our eyes, point to a movie ad, then go see whatever movie the ad was for. Want to hear something amazing? Peaches picked Bringing Up Baby, an old movie playing at this tiny little theatre that shows only old movies and foreign films. We both decided it was a major good luck sign.

  The movie was really funny. You see, it stars Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Katharine Hepburn is this rich girl who falls in love with Cary Grant, who plays a crazy dinosaur scientist (Peaches said they’re called paleontologists). Here’s the really silly part: Baby isn’t a baby at all. Baby is the name of her pet leopard. We had a terrific time gorging ourselves on popcorn from an old-fashioned popcorn machine they had in the lobby, plus two boxes of Junior Mints (my choice), and an ice cream bar (Peaches’s choice). It was a great afternoon!

  When we finally pulled into my driveway, we found Natalie Springer sitting on the front stoop. She had her chin in her hands and was looking really dejected.

  “Hi, Natalie! What are you doing here?” I called from behind my load of packages.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come home and play with me,” she replied.

  “Play with you?” I opened the front door for Peaches, who carried her packages inside to her room. Then I set my own bags by the front closet and returned to Natalie. “How long have you been sitting there?”

  Natalie, whose glasses were more crooked than usual, shrugged. “A few minutes, but it feels like hours.”

  “Look, Natalie,” I said, trying to be gentle, “I’d like to play with you but I can’t right now. I have to do my homework.”

  “Homework?” She scrunched up her nose. “On Saturday?”

  Now Natalie was sounding like Peaches! “I really have a lot of homework to do,” I said, more firmly this time. “And if I played with you, it might not get done. I’ll walk you home, and maybe we can set up a date to play another time.”

  “You don’t have to walk me home,” Natalie said with a loud sniff. “I can go by myself.”

  “Well, okay,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll walk you to the corner.”

  Natalie really looked miserable as she headed down Elm Street. Her shoulders were hunched over and she stared at the sidewalk the entire way. I felt sorry for her, but I knew I had to hit the books. I was not about to get into trouble over my schoolwork.

  Stacey had never met Natalie before, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way Natalie greeted her at the door.

  “Stacey! I’m so glad you’re here. Come on in. Want a peanut butter, mayonnaise, and banana sandwich?”

  Stacey happens to hate that combination but she didn’t tell Natalie that. Instead she said, “I see Claud’s been cooking for you. That’s her favorite sandwich. But it’s not really mine.”

  “What’s your favorite?” Natalie asked.

  “I like lettuce, tomato, and cheese sandwiches on whole wheat bread,” Stacey said. “Sometimes I just eat lettuce and tomato without the cheese. It tastes great, and it’s really healthy, too.”

  “That’s my favorite kind of sandwich, too,” Natalie said, opening the refrigerator door. “You want to make one?”

  It was about two o’clock, and Stacey had already eaten lunch. “I’m not really hungry right now,” she said, “but if you want to eat something, I’ll fix you one.”

  Natalie shut the refrigerator door. “I guess I’m not hungry either.”

  “Then why don’t we do something together?” Stacey suggested. “We could make a fort, or play dolls — whatever you like.”

  “You’ll really play with me?” Natalie asked, shoving her glasses up on her nose.

  “Of course.” Stacey smiled. “That’s what I’m here for. To make sure you’re safe and looked after, but also to play with you and have fun.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be my friend?” Natalie asked.

  Stacey knew that Natalie had asked to be my best friend, and a tiny warning bell went off in her head. Instead of immediately answering yes, the way I had done, she said, “It’s nice to have friends, isn’t it, Natalie?”

  Natalie nodded vigorously.

  “Why don’t you invite some of your friends over and we can all play together?”

  Natalie pulled on the knee soc
k drooping around her ankle. “I don’t have any friends.”

  Stacey knew that Natalie had said the same thing to me, but she still had a hard time believing it.

  “Surely you must have friends at school.”

  “Not really.”

  “How about in the neighborhood?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nobody at all?” Stacey asked.

  Natalie squinched one eye shut. “Claudia is my friend. But that’s it.”

  Stacey cocked her head. “I bet you have more friends than you think. Why don’t we go outside and see.”

  Natalie looked up at her curiously. “What will we do outside?”

  “We’ll play on your porch and see if any potential friends come along.”

  Natalie shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.”

  Stacey grabbed her Kid-Kit and led Natalie out onto the front porch. They sat down cross-legged, and Stacey opened her decorated box.

  “Would you like to play jacks?” she asked, taking out a plastic bag and spilling the ball and jacks onto the porch floor. “That’s always fun.”

  “I love jacks,” Natalie replied. “It’s my favorite game.”

  Stacey was starting to notice a pattern. Whatever she liked, Natalie liked. In fact, it instantly became her favorite thing. “I guess it could be worse,” Stacey thought. “She could hate everything I like.”

  Stacey tossed the ball in the air and started to scoop up her jacks when someone shouted from the street.

  “Hi, Stacey!”

  It was Corrie Addison. She was riding bikes with Haley Braddock.

  “Hi, you guys,” Stacey called. “What are you up to?”

  “We’re seeing how far we can coast without pedaling,” Corrie replied.

  “We’ve already gone two whole blocks,” Haley added.

  Stacey turned to Natalie. “Would you like to play with Haley and Corrie?”

  “They’re in the fourth grade,” Natalie said simply. “And besides, Haley’s best friends with Vanessa Pike. And Corrie is usually with her brother.”

  None of those seemed like a very good reason not to play with them, but Stacey kept her mouth shut. A few minutes later, a brown-haired girl came by on skates. She stuck out her tongue at Natalie as she went past the house.

  “Who was that?” Stacey asked. “Not that she looks very friendly.”

  “She’s in my class at school.” Natalie crinkled her nose. “Her name’s Leslie Morris and I don’t like her at all. Besides she’s already friends with Pamela Harding and Jannie Gilbert.”

  “What about those kids?” Stacey pointed across the street to a boy and girl pulling a red wagon filled with dirt.

  “That’s Leif and Lindsey,” Natalie replied. “They live on Rockville Court. But they’re best friends.”

  The way Natalie talked, it sounded like all of the friends in the world were spoken for. She didn’t seem to understand that you could be friends with more than one person. Stacey decided she’d talk to me about this friendship problem later. In the meantime, Natalie looked like she could use some cheering up. Stacey scooped up the remaining jacks and dropped them in her Kid-Kit. Then she stood up.

  “Come on, Natalie.” Stacey held out her hand. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Natalie slipped her hand into Stacey’s and smiled. “Who is it?”

  “I’m not telling,” Stacey said mysteriously. “But I’ll give you a hint. He has a pink nose and big ears, and he can jump pretty high.”

  “Gee.” Natalie tugged at her sock again. “I don’t know anybody who looks like that. He sounds weird.”

  Stacey smiled. “He’s not weird and he’s really not a kid.”

  After scribbling a note to Mrs. Springer, Stacey grabbed a few items from the refrigerator and then they headed for Brenner Field. Stacey kept Natalie guessing the entire way.

  “Is it your dad?” Natalie asked. “Does he have funny ears and a pink nose?”

  Stacey laughed. “His ears could be called funny, but his nose is definitely not pink.”

  “If it’s not a kid and not a grown-up,” Natalie said, pushing up her glasses, “then it can’t be a person.”

  “Right!”

  By now they’d arrived. Stacey led the way over to a large rock standing at one end of the field. Then she put her finger to her lips and whispered, “Now we have to keep really quiet or we’ll scare Peter away.”

  “Peter? His name is Peter?” Natalie whispered excitedly. “Where is he?”

  Stacey pointed to a low hedge a few feet from the big rock. “He’s usually hiding in there.”

  “Under that bush? What could hide there?”

  Stacey didn’t have to answer, because at that moment a fluffy brown-and-white rabbit stuck his head out of the bushes. He raised his head, wiggled his nose several times, then hopped cautiously into the open.

  “It’s a bunny!” Natalie cried with glee. “Oh, Stacey, he’s so cute. Can we pet him?”

  “Wait a minute.” Stacey dug in the pocket of her jacket and produced the two carrots she’d taken from the Springers’ refrigerator. “Here. Now you can feed him. But don’t move too fast. We don’t want to scare Peter away.”

  Natalie held her carrot out in front of her and slowly walked toward the small rabbit. “Is he someone’s pet?” she whispered back over her shoulder.

  “I don’t think so,” Stacey said. “I think he’s a wild bunny that’s used to having a lot of kids around. Peter’s kind of the neighborhood’s pet. But he also makes a very nice friend.”

  Natalie knelt down in front of the rabbit, who watched her carefully. Slowly she placed the carrot on the grass in front of the bunny. Peter took two hops forward and nibbled on the tip of the carrot with his big front teeth.

  “Look!” Natalie whispered, as Peter took another crunchy bite. “He’s not afraid of me. He’s my friend.”

  Stacey leaned her back against the big rock while she watched Natalie. Natalie seemed like a sweet little kid. It just didn’t make sense for her not to have any friends. Time to find out more about Natalie, Stacey decided. That night after dinner, before she started her homework, Stacey called me to talk about Natalie’s problem.

  “Do you think she really doesn’t have any friends, or is she just saying that to get our sympathy?” Stacey asked.

  “I think she really doesn’t have anyone,” I replied. “She’s been over here a lot during the past week.”

  “She comes over to your house?”

  “Yeah, and not only that, she calls me after she gets home. Last night she called just to say goodnight, sleep tight.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet,” Stacey said.

  I agreed. “But I don’t like having to tell her to go home all the time. And now that Peaches is here, I have even less time to spend with Natalie than before.”

  “Besides, Natalie needs her own friends,” Stacey added. “We’re baby-sitters, and we need to make that clear. I mean, imagine what it’d be like if all of our charges dropped by our homes or called us all the time.”

  “Yikes! We’d never have any time to ourselves. We’d have to hide out —”

  “Maybe even wear disguises.” Stacey chuckled.

  “We’d have to have unlisted phone numbers and secret code names,” I added. “It would be totally ridiculous.”

  We laughed, but then Stacey said in as serious a voice as was possible, “It’s time we talked to the BSC about this.”

  I agreed. “I’ll bring it up first thing on Monday.”

  “Anybody home?” I called as I came through the front door Monday afternoon. I’d raced home from school and I was out of breath. “Peaches?” I called cautiously into the den. “Are you in there?”

  No answer. Phew. Today was my first knitting lesson, and I didn’t want Peaches to know anything about it. Moments later, the doorbell rang.

  “Come on in, Mary Anne,” I said, throwing open the front door. “The coast is clear.”

  Mary Anne and I hurri
ed up the stairs. We had a lot to do before the BSC meeting at five-thirty. Mary Anne was carrying a large overstuffed tapestry bag in one hand and a couple of pattern books in the other. She dumped everything on my bed.

  “I think I’ve brought everything we need for your first lesson,” she said.

  I lifted up my mattress and pulled out a sketch I had done of the blanket I’d seen at Baby and Company. “This is the blanket I want to knit,” I explained.

  Mary Anne looked at the sketch and gasped. “Oh, Claudia, it’s very pretty, but …”

  “But what?” I sat on the bed next to Mary Anne and peered over her shoulder at my drawing.

  “It’s a really complicated pattern. I don’t even think I could knit it, let alone teach you how to do it.”

  “I really had my heart set on that one.” I sighed.

  “Why don’t we look at my patterns?” Mary Anne reached for the books she’d brought. “Maybe we can find something like it.”

  We flipped through several books and finally settled on one of the simpler patterns.

  “This is a good one,” Mary Anne said firmly, tapping her finger on the picture in the magazine. “It has a block pattern, but you only need to knit and purl.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Well, you’ve already lost me.”

  Mary Anne laughed. “I know it sounds like a foreign language right now, but pretty soon you’ll be saying ‘knit one, purl two’ in your sleep.”

  Then she opened the tapestry bag and pulled out several skeins of pale lavender yarn. “Is this the color you wanted?” she asked.

  “It’s perfect.” I held the soft yarn to my face. “Lavender is good when you don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl. Plus, it matches the crib bumpers beautifully.”

  Next Mary Anne pulled out two metal needles from her bag and handed them to me. “Careful,” she said, in her best baby-sitter’s voice. “Points down, Claudia. You could put your eye out.”

  “I didn’t realize knitting was such a dangerous hobby.” I giggled.