Ann Martin - Stacey's Emergency

"Stacey will be home in two days."

"Aughhh!" shrieked Charlotte. (Mary Anne decided that Char's throat wasn't bothering her too much.) "On Saturday? Stacey will be back on Saturday?"

"Yup," said Mary Anne. She told Charlotte what Claud had said about resting, school, and baby-sitting.

"So Stacey can't baby-sit me for over two weeks?"

"That's right. But isn't it nice to know she's corning back here?"

"Definitely," said Char. "You know what? We should do something for Stacey. We should give her a surprise party."

"I don't know about a surprise party, since Stacey is supposed to be resting, but we should do something for her. She'd like that."

"Then let's give her a regular party. We won't surprise her."

"A small, quiet regular party, maybe," said Mary Anne.

"We could make a sign," suggested Charlotte. "I mean, a banner. Remember the banner we hung up when Stacey and her mom moved back to Stoneybrook?"

"Yup. We hung it in front of her house. We could do that again."

"And then we'll be waiting for her in the front yard when her mother drives her home. Only we won't jump out or anything. And we won't invite as many people as we did the last time."

"That sounds good. And maybe we'll just drag over the Pikes' picnic table and serve juice or lemonade."

"Lemonade without sugar in it," added Charlotte.

"Right," said Mary Anne. "Or with artificial sweeteners. Okay, this sounds good. The party will be quiet and small. I think Stacey will really like it. What should the banner say?"

Charlotte frowned. "Mmm . . . how about, 'We're glad you're home, Stacey'?"

"Perfect!"

"Really?" Charlotte looked very pleased.

"Positively. Do you want to help make the banner?"

"Positively!" replied Charlotte, grinning.

"I should call Claudia and everyone and see what they think about this."

"Call them right now," said Charlotte.

"Okay." Mary Anne headed back downstairs.

Charlotte ran after her. "Hey, guess what! My strep throat is gone! And I'm pretty sure I don't have Lyme disease or arthritis, or anything, either."

Mary Anne turned around. She hugged Charlotte. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that," she said.

"Who should we call first?" asked Charlotte, wriggling out of Mary Anne's grasp.

"Claudia, I think," answered Mary Anne. "She's got paint. We'll probably make the banner at her house tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll dial!" exclaimed Char.

So she did. Then she handed the receiver to Mary Anne. Mary Anne spoke to Claud, who loved the idea of welcoming me home. Within fifteen minutes, Dawn, Mal, Jessi, and Kristy knew about the party, too. Mary Anne assigned jobs to everyone. My friends could not wait for Saturday — and neither could I!

Chapter 15.

The highway stretched in front of us. I imagined it was the Yellow Brick Road, and that it led straight to my house.

Saturday had arrived at last. I had been sprung from the hospital. And now that I was out of that bland room with its view of dingy gray, I really did feel like Dorothy in Oz. "Hey, Mom, there are colors out here!" I had exclaimed as a nurse helped me into our car.

Mom laughed.

The nurse smiled. "It was nice knowing you, Stacey," she said, "but I don't ever want to see your face here again!" (She didn't?) "Don't worry," the nurse went on, "I say that to all my patients. Stay well, okay?"

It was my turn to smile. "Okay." I paused. Then I added, "I hope 7 never see your face again, either!"

Grinning, the nurse turned the empty wheel-

chair around and started toward the door of the hospital.

"Why do they always make me leave the hospital in a wheelchair?" I complained. "I can walk. I was walking in the hospital."

Mom shrugged. "Just hospital policy, sweetie." She turned the key in the ignition and at last I began to leave the hospital behind me.

The morning had been a little hectic. Mom arrived early to pack my suitcase, and to put all of my cards and gifts into shopping bags. Then she began to empty a vase of its flowers.

"Mom!" I exclaimed. "Can't we keep my flowers? Can't we take them home?"

"All of them?" replied Mom. The room was overflowing.

"Well, some of them," I said. "Maybe we could give the rest to the nurses or to the other kids here."

"Good idea," Mom had answered.

So we'd left two bouquets of flowers at the nurses' station. We had delivered four more bouquets to the kids I'd gotten to know the best (which wasn't very well), and we took three home with us.

While Mom was running around packing my suitcase and handing out flowers, Dad arrived to say good-bye to me. He knew that Mom would be there, and Mom knew that

Dad was coming, so when they found themselves together in my room, they didn't talk, but they didn't argue, either.

"From now on," said Dad, "be sure to tell your mother or me when you're feeling so awful. You know the signs to look for."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I guess I wasn't very responsible."

Dad shook his head. "It wasn't your fault," he said.

"Then whose was it?"

Dad shrugged. "What difference does it make?"

"None, I guess."

A little while later, Dad and I were hugging good-bye.

"I promise that my next visit will be more fun," I said.

"I should hope so," Dad answered, smiling. "This'll be hard to top in terms of rotten vacations."

"There's always the sewage treatment plant," I said. "Maybe we could tour it the next time I come for a weekend."

"Okay," said my father. "Then we'll finish off the day with a ride on a garbage barge. We'll try to pick a hot, sunny afternoon so the garbage will be particularly disgusting and smelly."

"Dad, you are so gross!" I cried.

"That's what fathers are for," he replied, as he left my room.

When he was gone, Mom and I waited around for a doctor to come give me a final examination. Then we could . . . leave!

Now it was sometime in the early afternoon, and Mom and I were following the Yellow Brick Road back to our house on Elm Street in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. My eyes drooped as we drove along.

The next thing I knew, Mom was gently shaking my shoulder.

"We're almost home, Stace," she said.

"Okay," I replied groggily. Why was Mom waking me up? I would wake up by myself when she parked the car in — "I don't believe it!" I cried.

Mom turned to smile at me, "Everyone's glad you've come back."

"I guess so!"

We were turning the corner onto our street, and already I could see a bunch of balloons tied to our mailbox. And standing in the yard was a small crowd of kids. As we pulled closer, I could see all my BSC friends, Charlotte, Becca Ramsey, Jamie Newton, Myriah and Gabbie Perkins, and several of Mallory's brothers and sisters.

And then I saw the banner: WE'RE GLAD

YOU'RE HOME, STAGEY! It had been hung across the front door. "I don't believe it," I said again.

Mom pulled into the driveway. "Your public awaits you," she said.

Slowly I got out of our car. As soon as I stood up, everybody began yelling and cheering and calling to me.

"Hi!" I cried.

And then there was this rush of bodies. I ran around the front of the car ("Slow down, Stacey," said Mom) and all the kids ran toward me. Soon I was hugging everyone, except the Pike triplets, who said they would die if a girl touched them.

"I'm so glad you're home," said Claudia.

"Oh, me, too!" I replied.

I looked down to see who was hugging my waist. It was Charlotte.

"I didn't really think you'd come back," she said. "But you're all well now."

The truth was, I would never be all well, but I didn't think this was the appropriate time to say so to Charlotte.

Mary Anne was standing at a picnic table. She ladled lemonade into paper cups, and the kids passed them around. I sat down on the front stoop to drink mine — after I checked to make sure that it didn't contain any real sugar.