Dawn and the We Love Kids Club Read online

  We were in the den when she bustled through the front door, carrying a large paper bag. “Anybody home?”

  Erick, Ryan, and Stephie all sprang to their feet. “Mom!” the boys screamed.

  “What’s in the bag?” Erick asked.

  “Just some odds and ends for you guys.” She set it down on the coffee table and started unloading it. “Socks, shoelaces, chewing gum …”

  “Oooh, gum!” Erick squealed.

  As he happily distributed the gum, I gave Mrs. DeWitt a report on the afternoon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stephie examining the shoelaces. She was fingering them as if they were jewelry.

  That seemed kind of strange, until I looked at her sneakers. Her own laces were dirty, frayed, and full of knots.

  A few moments later, we exchanged goodbyes, and Stephie and I left. For the first few blocks, she didn’t say a word. Finally I asked, “Stephie, what’s on your mind?”

  “Mrs. DeWitt should be my mom, not theirs!” she blurted out. “Then I would always get snacks and nice stuff, too.”

  “Joanna makes you snacks,” I said. “And you could ask her or your dad to buy you some new laces.”

  Stephie nodded. “I know that. But if I had a mom, I wouldn’t have to ask. She’d just buy them.”

  I sighed. I really love Stephie, and I’m glad that I’ve been able to do so much to help her.

  But finding a mom was one area in which I was totally helpless.

  Thursday had not been an easy day. I wanted so badly to relax, and just have a quiet family evening.

  So what was sitting in the driveway when I got home? Carol’s red Miata.

  Big deal, I told myself. So the house would be a little loud. So Carol would want to know every detail about my day. So she’d laugh hysterically at Jeff’s dumb jokes. It was okay. She had every right to be there. She was Dad’s girlfriend. And I shouldn’t be mean. After all, she had bought me that director’s chair and the sunglasses and visor.

  So why did I feel like heading right back to Stephie’s?

  Of course I didn’t do it. I put on a smile and walked inside.

  Dad and Carol and Jeff were all in the living room. Standing.

  Dad was still wearing his suit and tie. Carol was wearing a dress with a big, colorful beret in her red hair — and makeup, which is very unusual for her.

  Behind them, I could see Mrs. Bruen busily putting a meal on the dining room table. It looked like Thai food, which I love. Four places were set, with all our best china.

  I looked on the bright side. At least we weren’t having vegetable chimichangas again.

  Jeff was about to burst with excitement. “Dad’s going to make an announcement!” he said.

  Oh, good, I thought. The last time something like this happened, I was in sixth grade and Dad had gotten a big promotion. (It was one of the last times I saw Mom and Dad happy together.)

  “What’s the news?” I asked.

  A smile spread across Dad’s face. He turned toward Carol. She grabbed his arm and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Go ahead, honey,” she said. “You tell them.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this.

  “Well, Dawn, Jeff,” Dad said. “You’re about to have a stepmother.”

  I froze. The words floated around in my brain, falling apart into strange syllables. For a moment I thought I’d heard wrong. Or I hadn’t quite grasped the meaning.

  “Dad and Carol are getting married!” Jeff shouted.

  Thank you, Jeff. Now it was crystal clear.

  And so was the huge diamond on Carol’s new ring.

  I could see Mrs. Bruen watching me, looking for my reaction. Along with everyone else. I suddenly felt as if a giant magnifying glass had been placed in front of me, and they all were peering through it.

  I did the only thing I could do.

  I bolted.

  Between Jeff and Mrs. Bruen, through the dining room, through the kitchen, down the hall, and into my room.

  I slammed the door behind me.

  My feet would not stop moving. I paced back and forth. I wanted to scream but my teeth were locked together.

  This was wrong, wrong, wrong. They couldn’t just decide like this. Not without at least mentioning it to me first. How long had they been planning this? Why did they keep it such a big secret from Jeff and me?

  How dare they?

  I decided to let them know how I felt. If I had to yell and scream and throw Thai food, I would make sure they knew how serious this was.

  I grabbed the doorknob and yanked open the door.

  The first thing I heard was Mrs. Bruen’s voice. “Poor dear. Is she all right?”

  “Ohhhh, she’s angry,” Carol said, sounding shocked and hurt.

  “No, not Dawn,” Dad reassured her. “Not about this.”

  “Maybe she just wanted to change into something nice,” Jeff suggested.

  I took a deep breath. What was I doing? Was the announcement really that surprising? Jeff and I both thought Dad might marry Carol. We’d talked about it. Dad had even dropped hints a couple of times.

  Even Stephie and I had discussed it.

  Still, hearing the news for real came as a shock. But I had to admit, that wasn’t their fault. And it was not fair of me to storm away and ruin everyone’s celebration.

  You have no idea how hard it was to pull myself together. But I unclenched my teeth and walked back down the hall.

  Dad and Carol studied me with these shaky little smiles. Jeff was standing by the table, drooling over the food. Mrs. Bruen was puttering around in the kitchen.

  “Is everything okay?” Dad asked me, trying to sound cheerful.

  Up, lips! I commanded. I felt my face trying to smile. “Yeah. I was just … taken by surprise, that’s all. Boy, that’s big news!”

  Carol looked relieved. “Well, let’s sit down.” She angled her head toward the kitchen and said loudly enough for Mrs. Bruen to hear, “Everything smells soooo fabulous!”

  We gathered around the table and stood stiffly for a moment. I wondered if there were rules about this — who sits first at an engagement-announcement dinner?

  Well, correct or not, Jeff made the first move. He plopped into his chair and spooned some curried noodles onto his plate. “Come on, I’m starving,” he said.

  The rest of us sat down. Dad produced a bottle of champagne and poured some for each of us (a very small amount for Jeff and me). Then he stood up and raised his glass high. “To the most beautiful family in the world — and its newest member.”

  “Hear, hear! There, there!” Jeff the Stand-up Comic cheered.

  No, no, I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I raised my glass and took a tiny sip.

  Jeff gulped his down. “Yechh!” he said, breaking into a fit of coughing. Carol bolted up from her chair and began pounding him on the back.

  “Ow! Stop!” Jeff protested.

  “It’s okay, Carol,” Dad said with a smile. “As long as he’s coughing he’s all right.”

  Carol looked embarrassed. “I guess I have some things to learn about being a mother, huh?”

  No comment.

  Soon Jeff stopped coughing, and we ate. Well, three of us did. Carol seemed too excited. She talked instead. Nonstop.

  Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But she had barely touched her plate by the time the rest of us were helping ourselves to seconds.

  “So your dad tells me to dress up because we were going to a basketball game. Imagine! I mean, why dress up for that? So he picks me up, drives toward the stadium, and says, ‘Let’s get some coffee first.’ He pulls up to this sweet little cafe — and the game’s supposed to start in ten minutes. Well, little do I know he’s going to propose. And on his knees! Everyone in the cafe is watching, and when I say yes, they start applauding, and the waiters break into song. It was so romantic. Oh, was I blushing!”

  “I would have gone to the game,” Jeff remarked.

  “Did you show them the ring?” Dad asked Carol.

&nbs
p; She held out her hand. The diamond was surrounded by sapphires. “Isn’t it breathtaking?” she said.

  I, for one, was still breathing. “Beautiful,” I replied.

  Jeff glanced at it and shoved some shrimp with peanut sauce into his mouth.

  Now that Carol was quiet for a moment, I decided to ask, “When’s the wedding?”

  “The sooner the better!” Carol said.

  “We haven’t decided,” Dad added.

  So there was still time!

  Stop that, I said to myself. I couldn’t believe how negative I was being. Dad looked happy, and that was the most important thing. Wasn’t it?

  Carol picked up her fork and began eating again. The rest of us were using chopsticks, even Jeff. We always did. It was a family tradition. I remembered how much fun we had learning to use them. Eating Thai food with a fork seemed, well, unnatural.

  I tried to ignore that. It wasn’t a big deal.

  Then Jeff reached for some coriander chicken and knocked his glass of water on the floor. “Uh-oh,” he said.

  Carol shot out of her chair. She ran into the kitchen and returned with a fistful of paper towels. “No problem,” she said. She began wadding up the paper and trying to soak the water out of the carpet.

  Well, first of all, Jeff is old enough to clean up after himself. Second, it is so environmentally wasteful to use paper towels for a water spill. A dry sponge would have soaked it up just fine.

  But no one seemed to mind. Dad and Jeff thanked her, and Carol marched proudly back to the kitchen to throw out her soggy portion of destroyed American forest.

  After dinner, as we cleared the plates, Jeff asked, “What’s for dessert?”

  Carol and Dad shared a glance, and I knew something was up.

  “You kids get strawberry shortcake,” Dad said, “but your stepmom and I are going out to celebrate.”

  “Again?” Jeff said.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Carol said with a laugh, “it’s not often a person gets engaged, you know.”

  Stepmom? Sweetie? I guess I was going to have to get used to some new words around the house.

  And it looked as if I’d also have to get used to seeing less of my dad.

  He and Carol left, laughing and chatting, arms around each other. I sat at the kitchen table with Jeff and ate about three strawberries.

  “Full, huh?” Jeff asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied, standing up. “Excuse me. I’ve got lots of homework.”

  “There’s no excuse for you!”

  “Can it, Jeff,” I snapped.

  I cleared my plate, went straight to my room, and plopped on my bed.

  I had tried my hardest. I had been polite and friendly. I hadn’t ruined the celebration.

  But now what? Now Dad was getting married. Carol was going to be eating every meal with us. I’d be seeing her first thing in the morning, and she’d probably be kissing Jeff and me before bed each night. She’d go shopping with us and take vacations with us.

  And when I wanted to have a nice, quiet talk with Dad, Carol would be there.

  I realized something then. I hated her. There was no use pretending otherwise. Who did she think she was, barging in on our lives? She was a loud, obnoxious, teenage wannabe, and she didn’t deserve someone like my father.

  Then again, it took two to make an engagement.

  My teeth were clenching again. This wasn’t what I’d had in mind when I came to live in California. I’d had to leave my other family, upset my friends, work hard to adjust to a new school — and for what? To spend six months with Dad. Couldn’t he at least have waited until I went back to Connecticut? I guess he preferred to spend time with her.

  One thing seemed clear. I wasn’t wanted here.

  But I was wanted somewhere else, by my mom and my stepsister and my best friends.

  That was when I made my big decision. I was going to move back to Stoneybrook.

  “Jeff Schafer, get back in this house,” I heard my dad call out.

  “I can walk to school by myself!” Jeff retorted. “I’m ten!”

  “No you’re not, you’re Jeff.” (Ooh, two points for Dad!) “And I’m your father, who makes the rules around here. Dawn! Are you almost ready?”

  “Just a second!” I shouted back.

  In my room, I scribbled furiously on a sheet of stationery. It was Friday, the morning after the wedding announcement. I had a little announcement of my own to make.

  I wasn’t going to make it aloud, and I certainly wasn’t going to wait for dinner. By dinnertime I hoped to be high above the country, flying eastward.

  Quickly I glanced over my note:

  It sounds sneaky, I know. But I had no choice. Can you imagine if I’d asked permission to cut school and fly to Connecticut? My mom would think I was crazy. As it was, getting her to let me leave Stoneybrook in midyear had been like moving a boulder up a steep mountain.

  Once I arrived in Stoneybrook, I’d explain what had happened, and she’d accept it. I was sure she would. I did have a home there, after all.

  I folded up the note, put it in an envelope, and stuffed it deep into my backpack.

  Then I put on the pack and grabbed the pen and another sheet of paper. Quickly I tiptoed into Dad’s empty bedroom. His credit cards were strewn on the top of his dresser. I copied the number of one card onto the paper and shoved it into my pants pocket.

  Boy, did I feel guilty about that. But it wasn’t as if I were stealing Dad’s money. He was going to have to pay for my flight back eventually, right?

  I was ready.

  My heart was beating like crazy. If I pulled this off, it would be a miracle.

  I ran into the kitchen. Dad was standing at the table — tying his tie, drinking his coffee, and reading the morning paper at the same time.

  Probably thinking about Carol, too.

  “Sorry I took so long,” I said, “but I wanted to clean up because today is Mrs. Bruen’s day off … isn’t it?”

  Dad glanced up for a minute and furrowed his brow in thought. “Friday … you’re right, it is.”

  Good. I’d just wanted to make sure. Now my plan was set!

  Phase One: The Preparation. Walk to school as if nothing were wrong.

  “Well, ’bye, Dad!” I called out.

  “So long, Sunshine!” he replied.

  Sunshine. Ugh. I wondered what nickname he was going to give Carol. Motormouth?

  Jeff pushed open the front door. “Come on, Sunslime.”

  “You’re so funny I forgot to laugh,” I answered. I couldn’t be too mad at him, though. This was the last we’d be seeing of each other for a while. Obnoxious as he was, I was going to miss Jeff.

  Halfway to school, Jeff left me to walk with some friends. I felt a tug inside. He was going to be so mad at me for leaving unexpectedly. I wanted to give him a big hug and a kiss good-bye, but not in front of his friends. He’d never let me forget it.

  Eventually I met up with Sunny and Maggie. I was dying to tell them my secret. But I couldn’t. It would be too painful to see their reactions.

  As we approached school, Sunny and Maggie were laughing about my description of Thursday’s sitting job. And looking into their faces, I began to have cold feet. Would they forgive me? How could the W♥KC possibly survive now with only three members?

  I thought about staying. Then I imagined what it would be like to come home from school and be greeted at the door by Carol. That was all it took. I was ready for Phase Two of my plan: Dawn’s Acting Audition.

  I stopped walking. “Ugh, my stomach.”

  “Are you okay?” Sunny asked.

  “Yeah.” I walked a few more steps, then grimaced. “Owww, what a cramp. Must have been the shrimp omelet I ate this morning.”

  Shrimp omelet? I don’t know how I thought of that. But it worked. Sunny and Maggie both nodded.

  “Dawn, you do not belong in school today,” Maggie said.

  Sunny took my arm. “I’ll walk you home.”

 
Uh-oh. That wasn’t part of the plan. “No, you’ll be late. I can make it fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Maggie asked.

  “Uh-huh. I just need to lie down. I’ll … see you later.”

  “Okay….” Sunny said reluctantly.

  “We’ll tell your homeroom teacher, so don’t worry,” Maggie assured me.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “ ’Bye!”

  “Feel better!”

  I felt awful lying to them. As soon as they were out of sight, I checked my watch. It was eight-thirty, and Dad would be rushing out of the house.

  By the time I reached our house, his car was gone. I let myself in the front door.

  Phase Three: The Getaway.

  I dropped my bag and pulled the credit card number out of my pocket. Then I went to the kitchen and riffled through the Yellow Pages.

  Being bicoastal, I know all the airlines that fly to Connecticut. I began calling them.

  I was on the phone for half an hour (mostly on hold). The first airline I reached had a seat on Tuesday. The second was booked solid for the next week.

  But the operator at the third one said, “I’m showing a cancellation for two seats, but it’s a three o’clock flight this afternoon. And it leaves from LAX, not John Wayne. Is that all right?”

  John Wayne Airport is close to our house. LAX is Los Angeles International Airport, which is almost an hour away.

  “Fine!” I cried. “I’ll take one seat.”

  I read her my dad’s credit card number. Then she mentioned the price.

  I almost fainted.

  But hey, if I left a few months later the flight might cost more. Prices tend to go up over time, so I was actually doing Dad a favor.

  At least that was what I told myself.

  I wrote down the information and hung up. Then I pulled my good-bye note out of my backpack and added a couple of lines:

  I left the note on the kitchen table. Then I raced into my room, grabbed a shoulder bag from my closet, and began to pack.

  It didn’t take long. I wouldn’t be needing my light California outfits in Stoneybrook. I’d left all my heavy winter clothes there, anyway.

  I made sure to take my journal, a few photos of Jeff and Dad, and my copies of the W♥KC article and video. I stuffed every last penny of my baby-sitting money into my pocket.