Ann Martin - The Truth About Stacey

Jamie left the room.

"We don't exactly know how to tell you this," Kristy began awkwardly, "but I guess we should begin with what happened this afternoon." She glanced at us.

Mrs. Newton nodded patiently.

"Well, um, we were walking home from school, and when we got to your house we found Jamie playing outdoors."

"Byhimself ," Mary Anne added.

"Near the street," Claudia added.

"With no hat or mittens," I added.

"He told us Cathy Morris was baby-sitting for him," Kristy continued. "But she was indoors. We don't think she knew where Jamie was. . . . We felt you really ought to know."

Mrs. Newton didn't say a word. She looked horrified.

"We're sorry to be such tattletales," I said nervously, "but we— "

"No, no. Oh, girls, I appreciate your telling me. I'm sure it was hard to do. I'm just — I can't believe —I mean, that was so irresponsible ."

I decided to go ahead and tell all. "I knew yesterday that Jamie hasn't liked his new babysitters, but we didn't want you to think we were bad-mouthing our competition. Jamie told me that most of his new sitters just talk on the phone or watch TV. He thought / wasn't going to pay any attention to him, either. And one of the sitters smokes, and burned a hole in the chair downstairs. CharlotteJohanssen has been upset, too. We had a long talk about it last night. She says one of her sitters invites her boyfriend over."

"Well," said Mrs. Newton briskly, "I certainly won't use the agency anymore, although we did findone seventeen -year-old sitter we like very much. I'll continue to call him on his

own, but not the others. I have to admit that Jamie hasn't seemed very happy lately, but I blamed it on sibling rivalry — the new baby. Anyway, I'll phone PeggyJohanssen and a few other parents. They'll want to know what you told me. And then I'll call Michelle and Liz, both of them.And Cathy Morris, of course. I wish I knew which one was the smoker."

"Mrs. Newton," Kristy said suddenly, "I know you'll want to call Cathy about this afternoon yourself, but could you let us talk to Liz and Michelle? We have a score to settle with them."

Chapter 13.

We settled the score first thing the next morning. We marched off to school and planted ourselves outside Liz and Michelle's homeroom.

The girls arrived early.

"Well," said Liz. "Like, look who it is.The Baby Club."

"Like, ha-ha," Kristy replied.

I giggled. Michelle scowled.

"Have you finally come crawling?" Liz asked. "When your club fails, you can always work for us, you know."

"No way," said Kristy. "We're here to talk to you about an important business matter."

"Yeah," I said.

"And what is so important?"

"What is so important," said Kristy, "is that yesterday Cathy Morris was baby-sitting for a

three-year-oldboy and she let him go outdoors by himself."

"So?"

"So?!We found him playing near the street — with no hat or mittens. We had to send him inside. If we hadn't come along, he might have been hit by a car. Three-year-olds cannot play outside by themselves. And good baby-sitters ought to know that."

"So we won't give Cathy any more jobs/' Michelle spoke up." She doesn't really like baby-sitting anyway."

"That's no surprise," said Claudia.

"What do you mean by that?" snapped Liz.

"I mean," said Claudia, "that the kids we know don't like the sitters you find."

"Are you saying we're not good baby-sitters?" asked Michelle.

"Well," I said, "a good baby-sitter spends time with the children she sits for. She doesn't ignore them and talk on the phone or just watch TV all the time."

"Oh, weflZways play with the kids we take care of. We tell the other sitters to do that, too. Right, Michelle?"

"Oh, right."

"Then," said Kristy, "you must know the kids pretty well by now.A good baby-sitter

knowsa lot about the children she takes care of. Do you know what Jamie Newton'sfavorite kind of sandwich is?"

Liz paused. "I only baby-sat for him once," she said.

"It'speanut butter and honey, toasted," said Mary Anne, finding her voice.

"What's CharlotteJohanssen'sfavorite TV program?" asked Kristy.

Liz and Michelle glanced at each other. "Mister Rogers," Michelle said triumphantly.

"Michelle, CharlotteJohanssen is almost eight years old. Herfavorite program is The Cosby Show."

"Have you ever sat for theMarshalls ?" asked Claudia.

"7 have," said Liz."Two girls: Nina, three, and Eleanor, one." (I really thought she was going to add, "So there.")

"Right," said Claudia. "And do you know what it means when Eleanor rubs her ears?"

"That she has an earache?"

"No, it means she's getting hungry."

"Do you remember what Nina is allergic to?" asked Mary Anne.

"For heaven's sake, what is this — Twenty Questions?"

"Come on," said Kristy. "You sat for her.

I'll give you a hint. It's a food. What could you have fed her that would have made her break out in hives?"

"I don't know, okay?" Liz said angrily, at the same time that Mary Anne said, "Strawberries."

"What are you trying to prove?" askedMich-elle . But she answered her own question. "That you're better baby-sitters than we are?"

"You said it, I didn't," replied Kristy.

"Okay, so you proved it," said Liz. "Now go away and leave us alone."

We did. We gathered in the girls' room. "What do you think that meant?" I asked.

The other club members shook their heads. It had felt like some sort of victory, but we weren't sure. We wondered what had happened when Mrs. Newton called Cathy. We wondered what was going to happen when the parents heard the news about the agency and began talking to their children. We figured we'd hear something over the weekend.

Unfortunately, I was spending that important weekend inNew York . My parents picked me up after school on Friday. I was all set. I had packed my bag the night before, and it was in the backseat along with a pillow, a JudyBlume book, an apple, and homework assign-

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meritsfor the following week. More important, I had seen Dr.Johanssen the night before and a special doctor's appointment had been arranged for late Saturday afternoon. Before I left, she had handed me an official-looking envelope with my parents' names typed on the front.

I waved to Claudia, Mary Anne, and Kristy from the car window. "See you on Wednesday!" I called.

My father pulled away from the curb and we began the two-hour drive toNew York City . When we reached the highway, I said, "So who are we staying with this time — Aunt Beverly and Uncle Lou or Aunt Carla and Uncle Eric?" I hoped it was Aunt Beverly and Uncle Lou. I liked my cousins Jonathan and Kirsten a lot better than my cousin Cheryl.

Mom and Dad looked at each other and smiled. Then Mom turned around and faced me. "We were going to surprise you when we got to the city, but we might as well tell you now. We're not staying with theSpencers or theMcGills ."

"Yippeee!You mean we're staying in a hotel?" I adore hotels.

"No. . . . We're staying with the Cummings. You can seeLaine again."

"With theCwmmings !"I exclaimed. "Dothey

knowwhat's wrong with me, then? Did you tell them?"

"Yes, we finally told them. It's funny — now that you're so much better, there doesn't seem to be any reason for them not to know."

"DoesLaine know?"

"Yes. The Cummingshave told her."

"But Mom, how could you do that to me? You knowLaine hates me. And I hate her."

"Oh, Stacey," said Mom, "that was months ago. I'm sure you andLaine are over that fight, especially now thatLaine knows the truth about you."

I slumped down in my seat. "No, we're not," I replied.

"Well, I'm sure you'll feel differently when you see her."

"No, I won't."

Lainedidn't either. When Mrs. Cummings opened the door to their apartment and let Mom and Dad and me in,Laine wasn't in sight. Mrs. Cummings greeted us warmly and showed Mom and Dad into the guest room where they would be staying. Then she told me to go on intoLaine's room. I walked slowly down the hall to her bedroom.Being in the Cummings' apartment felt strange after such a long time.