Ann Martin - Mallory And The Mystery Diary

"Simple. I read the directions."

Mrs. Barrett and I smiled at each other over Suzi's and Mamie's heads.

And then I had to hightail it home before my parents sent the police out looking for me.

Chapter 15.

"Guess what, guess what, guess what!" cried Stacey. She dashed into BSC headquarters ten minutes before the beginning of a Friday meeting.

"WHAT?" shouted Claudia. (Stacey had startled her. Claud was rummaging behind a chair in search of a box of Ring-Dings and hadn't heard Stacey come up the stairs.)

I was the only other club member present.

"My mom got the painting back from the art restorer today, and it — "

"Wait!" I said. "Don't say any more. Kristy'll kill us if we hear important news before she does. Can you hold off until the others arrive? Then you can tell us everything at once."

"All right," Stacey agreed, "but if I explode before five-thirty, it'll be your fault."

"I'll try to live with that," I said.

Claudia finally found the Ring-Dings and settled herself on her bed with them. "There is nothing/' she said, "like a fresh, unopened package of junk food. Especially chocolate junk food. It's like holding a really huge birthday present in your lap and savoring the moments until you can open it."

Stacey rolled her eyes. Claud did sound a little ridiculous, but I sometimes wonder if Stacey is jealous because she can't eat things like Ring-Dings.

Claud was beginning to open the box (in that slow, careful way that some people open presents), when Kristy and Jessi arrived.

Kristy immediately plopped down in the director's chair, put on her visor, and stuck a pencil over one ear. Jessi settled herself on the floor next to me, stretching out those 1-o-o-o-o-n-g dancer's legs of hers. We were talking about a social studies assignment we'd been given that day, when Dawn and Mary Anne arrived, grinning.

The whole club was assembled, the digital clock read 5:30 on the nose, yet nobody, not even Kristy, could ignore those grins.

"What?" said Claud excitedly. "What's going on?"

"It's our parents," said Dawn. "They called

each of us this afternoon to announce that they're going out tonight — "

"That's not unusual," Kristy interrupted.

"No," agreed Mary Anne, "but it's unusual for them to celebrate an anniversary."

"An anniversary!" I exclaimed. "What kind of anniversary?"

"They're celebrating because this is the twenty-fifth date they've been on," replied Dawn. "I mean, as adults. Not including when they were in high school."

"We figure," added Mary Anne, "that if they're counting dates and celebrating anniversaries, they must really be getting serious."

"Wow," said Jessi, impressed.

"I've got some news, too," spoke up Stacey.

"Ahem." Kristy tapped her pencil on Clau-dia's clock, indicating that it now read 5:32.

"Puh-lease?" said Stacey. "Remember, I said I'd burst if I don't tell this news."

"Just one thing first," replied Kristy. "Any club business?"

Well, no one was going to raise an issue if Stacey was in danger of exploding. So we all just sat there. The phone didn't ring. It wasn't even dues day.

At last Kristy said, "Okay, Stace, what's your news?"

"My mom got the painting back from the art restorer," she said in a rush, "and it's a portrait of a beautiful woman. It looks just the way Sophie described her mother's portrait in the diary. So it's got to be Old Hickory's daughter. . . . It's a lovely painting," she added. And then she said, "You know something? Charlotte was right. Things aren't always what they seem to be. I didn't understand what she was trying to say before, but now I see."

"Do you think Charlotte knew the portrait had been painted over?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, no. Not at all. I think she just meant that sometimes you have to look beyond the obvious. -Use your imagination, or a little ingenuity."

"Charlotte and Buddy ought to team up as detectives," I said. "They could be the next Nancy Drew and Frank Hardy."

Ring, ring.

"Ah," sighed Kristy. "I just love the first call of a meeting."

Ring, ring.

"Then answer the phone, for lord's sake," said Claud, and we all laughed.

"Hello?" said Kristy. "Baby-sitters Club. Children are our business."

(Honestly, you never know what will come out of Kristy's mouth.)

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Perkins. . . . Saturday morning? I'll see who's available and we'll get right back to you."

Before Mary Anne could even look at Saturday in the appointment pages, the phone rang again. This time it was Mrs. Arnold, needing a sitter for her twins. Then Mr. Marshall called wanting to know who was free to sit for Nina and Eleanor.

Needless to say, the next ten minutes or so were pretty busy. When things quieted down, Stacey said, "Isn't anyone curious to know what Mom and I plan to do with the portrait?"

"I am," I said, and the others nodded.

"Well, we thought and thought," Stacey told us, "and finally we decided to hang it in our living room over the mantelpiece. I suppose the portrait really belongs at the old Hick-man place, since it never hung in Sophie's house, but Mom and I believe that Sophie's mother belongs with the spirits of her husband and daughter ... I mean, if there are such things, which I doubt, but you never know."

Stacey sounded so uncertain that the rest of us couldn't help smiling.

I said, "Whether there are spirits or not, I think it's a nice idea."

"Meeee, toooo," said Kristy in her seance voice, and the seven of us nearly became hysterical. Especially when Kristy couldn't quit. "Thaaaank yoooou," she added. "You saaaaved my sooooul."

The seven of us were literally rolling with laughter (Stacey fell off the bed) when the phone rang again. Jessi composed herself first and managed to answer it — and the next job call as well.

When the appointments had been arranged, Claudia passed around the Ring-Dings. Only some of us took one. Claud did, of course, and I did because I was starving. Kristy took one, too, but Stacey and Dawn passed them up, and Jessi and Mary Anne split one. (Jessi watches her figure so she can stay in shape, and Mary Anne eats like a bird.)

"You know what I still wonder," said Kristy, after swallowing a huge mouthful of Ring-Ding.

"What?" asked Dawn.

"How Old Hickory's trunk wound up in

Sophie's attic with Sophie's things in it. Not to mention how the portrait got over there."

"Buddy and I have a theory," I spoke up.

"Oh, goody," said Kristy. She wasn't being sarcastic. She was truly interested.

"Old Hickory had given Sophie's house to his daughter, but he owned both of them — so we figured that the long-lost nephew probably inherited them both. But he only needed one house — and of course he wanted the bigger one — so maybe he started renting out the one Stacey's living in now. But not until after he moved a lot of things in the big house that he didn't want into the smaller house. I bet he just jumbled stuff up, throwing things from both places into boxes and half-empty trunks. And then maybe after awhile he sold the smaller house, forgetting about all the stuff in the attic."

"That makes sense," said Mary Anne.

"But I guess we'll never know for sure," I continued. "I mean, Buddy and I just made that up. The important thing is that we found the portrait and Jared's name has been cleared, even if it is a little late."

"Yeah/' said Jessi thoughtfully. "It's too bad his name wasn't cleared while he was

alive. Some things are so unfair."

Ring, ring.

"Yikes!" said Kristy. "What a meeting!"

Dawn answered the phone that time. Right away, she looked puzzled. Then she said, "Buddy? Is that you? . . . Sure, she's here. Hold on." Dawn handed the phone to me. "It's Buddy Barrett," she whispered, her hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to talk to you."