Ann Martin - Logan Likes Mary Anne !

"Wow," I said. "Well, you can play with Tigger while I open them."

But Tigger didn't want to play with my friends. The wrapping paper was much more interesting. He rolled on his back, leaped in the air, and batted at the ribbon with his paws.

"He sure is lively," said Claudia.

"I know. We have to have the vet look him over, though. I mean, since he was a stray and all. The shelter gave us this little book on cat care and it said that kittens should be checked for worms and mites. Plus, the vet has to tell

us when he's old enough to get his shots."

"Are you going to take him to Dr. Smith?" asked Kristy.

"Yes, I think so. Oh!" I had just opened Dawn's present. It was a blue shirt that matched my famous-cities skirt. "Thank you! This is perfect!" I cried.

I kept on opening. I'd never seen so many presents. Kristy gave me a Smash tape. (They're our favorite group.) Stacey gave me a pair of famous-cities socks. (They were really wild.) And Claudia gave me some jewelry she'd made in her pottery class. "I can't believe you made this," I said. "It looks professional."

Most of the other gifts, especially the ones from the boys, were silly. Alan Gray gave me a wind-up dinosaur that shot sparks out of its mouth, and Austin gave me a pin shaped like a cow. When I'd opened everything, Stacey said, "Well, let's kill the cake. You haven't even tasted your own birthday cake, Mary Anne."

I always feel bad eating sweets in front of Stacey, but she doesn't seem to mind. So I divided the cake into four small pieces and Kristy, Claudia, Dawn, and I ate every last crumb, while Stacey polished off a couple of rice cakes. (Yuck.)

"Maybe we'll turn you into a junk-food ad-

diet yet," Claudia said to Dawn.

"I don't think so." Dawn made a face. "Now that I've eaten all that sugar, the only thing I want to do is brush my teeth." She settled for rinsing her mouth out.

"You know what?" I said to the members of the Baby-sitters Club. "I think this has been one of my best birthdays ever — and it's not even my birthday yet!"

"Mew," announced Tigger. He was sitting up perfectly straight with his tail wrapped around his front feet, gazing at me with round eyes.

"And you," I said, picking Tigger up gently, "are part of what made my birthday so great."

Tigger looked at me for another moment and then yawned.

Everybody laughed.

"Come to order. Please come to order!" said Kristy. She was wearing a visor and she adjusted it on her head as she settled into Claudia's director's chair.

It was the next afternoon (my birthday), time for a real club meeting. Before she could say another word, the phone rang.

"Hello, Baby-sitters Club," said Stacey.

I listened as Stacey asked questions, and could tell she was talking to Mrs. Pike. We

fixed the Pikes up with a sitter, and the phone rang again immediately. It turned out to be one of those days.

After we lined up a sitter for Jenny Prez-zioso, Mrs. Barrett called. Then 10181/8 mom, Mr. Newton, and Mrs. Rodowsky. By the time we hung up with Jackie's mother, our heads were spinning.

"Oh," groaned Kristy, and the phone rang again.

This time I answered it. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club."

"Hello, my name is Mr. Morgan. I live across the street from Mariel Rodowsky. She recommended your group to me. I need a sitter on Saturday night."

"How many children do you have?" I asked.

"Four. All boys."

"And how old are they?"

Mr. Morgan gave me all the information, and I hung up the phone with a sinking feeling — not because this new client had four boys, but because I knew none of us was free on Saturday.

"We've got to do something about this," I said. "We're in a jam. No one can take the job. Logan would be perfect for the Morgans. He's good with boys and he lives right nearby."

"But he doesn't want to join the club," said Kristy.

"I know. But couldn't we make him some kind of special member? Someone we could call when we need help, but who doesn't have to go to the meetings? That way everyone would be happy. Our club would look good because we'd be able to provide sitters instead of saying no one's available, Logan would get a job every now and then, and we wouldn't be embarrassed at the meetings."

"Well," said Kristy, "it really isn't a bad idea."

"Isn't a bad idea?! It's a great idea!" exclaimed Dawn. "Call him, Mary Anne."

"All right," I said. I waited for the usual nervousness to run through me, but I felt fine. I dialed Logan.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Guess who."

"I don't have to guess, I know," Logan replied. I could almost hear him smiling.

"Then guess where I am."

"At a Baby-sitters Club meeting."

"Very good! And guess what I'm going to ask you."

There was a pause. "To join the club?"

"No. I have a better idea. See, a whole bunch

of people have called today and, as usual, we're really busy. A new client just phoned — a man who lives across the street from the Rodow-skys. He's got four boys, and none of us can sit. We don't want to turn him down the very first time he calls, so I thought of you. Do you want this job?"

"Yes, but . . . Mary Anne, I've got to tell you the truth. I don't want to come to your club meetings."

"Why not?" I asked, my heart thumping.

"Because they're too embarrassing. I didn't like being the only boy. And Claudia told that story about the . . . you know."

So Logan didn't want to say "bra strap" either.

"I know," I replied. I was glad that was the only reason he didn't like the meetings. "Well, to be honest, we were embarrassed, too. So that's why I was thinking you could be some special kind of club member — "

"An associate member," whispered Kristy.

"An associate member," I said. "And we'll only call on you when we really need extra help. You won't have to go to the meetings."

"Really?" said Logan. "Hey, great!"

"So you want to do it?"

"Definitely."

I put my hand over the mouthpiece. "He'll do it."

"I'll make it official," Kristy announced, gesturing for the phone. "Hi, Logan," she said. "I hereby make you an associate member of the Baby-sitters Club. . . . You do? Okay, sure. We'll need to meet them and stuff, but that's great."

Kristy handed the phone back to me, and I hung it up, wishing I could have said a more private good-bye to Logan.

"Guess what," said Kristy. "Logan knows a couple of other guys who might want to be associate members."

We all began talking. Then we called Mr. Morgan with the news that Logan Bruno would be baby-sitting.

I sat back and let the excitement sink in. Our club had boy members. Well, one anyway. I had Logan. The Fifties Fling was coming up. It was my thirteenth birthday. And when I went home after the meeting, Tigger would be there to greet me.

About the Author

ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Now her favorite baby-sitting charge is her cat, Mouse, who lives with her in her Manhattan apartment.

Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks are Bummer Summer, Inside Out, Stage Fright, Me and Katie (the Pest), and all the other books in the Babysitters Club series.

She is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College. She likes ice cream, the beach, and / Love Lucy; and she hates to cook.