Ann Martin - Little Miss Stoneybrook...and Dawn

"Look at your blouse. That is so gross."

I kicked Jeff under the table.

He kicked me back.

Mom looked at her blouse. "Oh, no!" she cried. "Darn, when did that happen?"

"Everyone at the office was probably laughing at you," Jeff muttered.

"Jeff, that was uncalled for," said Mom.

"Sorry," Jeff replied, not sounding the least bit sorry.

We ate a pretty silent dinner.

Just as we were starting to clear the table, the phone rang.

Mom answered it. "Oh, hello, Ms. Besser," she said, after a pause.

Jeff groaned. Ms. Besser was his teacher. Her call could only mean he was in trouble again.

"What'd you do this time?" I asked him as he and I continued to clear the table.

"Fight," he replied. "I got into a fight."

"And?" I prompted him.

"Well, it was Jerry Haney's fault. He started it."

"But what'd you do to him?"

"Gave him a black eye."

"Oh, good going, Jeff," I said. "You'll be lucky if you aren't expelled. I'm surprised Jerry isn't blind yet." (That wasn't the first black eye my brother had given Jerry Haney.)

When Mom got off the phone, she looked sternly at my brother. Then she pointed to one of the kitchen chairs. "Sit," she ordered.

Jeff sat.

I kept on cleaning up, hoping that if I did I wouldn't be asked to leave the room. I wanted to stick around for the fireworks.

My plan worked.

But there were no fireworks. To my surprise,

Jeff began talking before my mother did. And he sounded calm and rational for once. He took a deep breath. Then he bit his lip.

"Mom," he finally began, "I'm sorry about what happened at school today. Really I am. I couldn't help it. It's like, all I can think about isCalifornia and Dad. And I get really mad that I'm not there with him. There's this sort of anger bubbling up inside me all the time. And then when something happens, like Jerry making his stupid-jerk comment today, all that anger boils over. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so," said Mom quietly.

"Do you think I need to go to a psychiatrist or something?" asked Jeff worriedly.

"Well, Ms. Besser certainly seems to. That's what she was calling about."

Jeff nodded. "What do you think, Mom?"

"I think I want to know what you think."

Jeff widened his eyes. He was used to getting yelled at, not asked his opinion. "I think . . . I think that if I could move back home - I mean, toCalifornia - all those anger bubbles would go away."

"Like somebody turning off the fire underneath you?" I asked.

"Yes!" Jeff said gratefully. "Like that. Couldn't I try it, Mom?" he went on. "Just for six months. If things aren't better after that, then

I'll come back here. I promise. But things will be better," he added.

I looked at Mom, horror-stricken. Surely she wouldn't let Jeff go.

"Mom - " I began.

"Not now, honey," she replied. She turned to Jeff. "This is the most difficult thing I've ever had to say," she told him, and her voice began to shake, "but I think you're right. I'm not sure what to do about it - after all, I have legal custody of you. However, I do think you've made some good points and should be allowed to try living with your father. I'll make a few phone calls." I could tell that Mom didn't feel nearly as sure of herself as she sounded. She must have been hurting - a lot - inside.

At that, Jeff's eyes gleamed with excitement, but he kept his cool. He didn't go leaping and prancing around the house. He didn't even say, "I told you so." He just sat in the chair while Mom began making phone calls.

I sat next to him. I was so mad I wanted to strangle him. I knew he needed to get out ofConnecticut , but couldn't he see what he was doing to our family? It was bad enough that Mom and Dad were divorced. Still, Mom and Jeff and I managed to seem like a little family. If Jeff left, it would be hard to think of Mom and me as a family. I love my mom, but I

knew that the two of us were going to feel like the ends of a loaf of bread, with all the other slices gone. I wanted at least one more slice. And Mom was going to let it go.

My mother talked on the phone for over an hour. She called her lawyer. She called her parents (my grandparents, who live here in Stoneybrook). Then, when it was late enough, she called Dad. (Californiatime is three hours earlier thanConnecticut time, so she had to wait until it was at least9:30 here, to be sure he had come home from work.)

Most of the conversations sounded the same. Mom would explain the situation and her thoughts. Then she'd begin saying, "Mm-hmm," and "Yes?" and "Oh, I see."

I couldn't really tell what was going on and had to wait until after Mom hung up with Dad to find out. Then she turned to Jeff and me, who were still sitting right where we'd been for an hour.

"Well," said my mother, "we're working on it, Jeff. The lawyer thinks she can make it happen, since we're all in agreement that this is the right decision,"

"All right!" exclaimed Jeff. "Thanks, Mom!"

"You little twerp!" I said to him hotly. "You are a rotten, spoiled baby."

"Dawn!" cried my mother.

I ignored her. "Can't you see what you're doing?" I yelled at Jeff. "You're breaking up what's left of our family."

"No, I'm not," Jeff replied quietly. "I'm giving Dad some of his family back. It's time we evened things up. Besides, I have to try this or I might end up in jail."

Mom and Jeff and I all began to laugh. The laughing felt good, but it didn't take away my hurt. Even if Jeff was a twerp, he was my brother and I would miss him. I already missed my father. Now I'd miss Jeff, too. And Jeff would have Dad all to himself. The lucky stiff.

Jeff got up to go to his room. When he was gone, I glanced at Mom. I knew there were tears in my eyes. They were about to overflow. Mom's eyes looked just the same as mine.

"Honey," she said, "you may not believe this, but Jeff is going to miss us as much as we'll miss him. And as much as we miss your father."

I shook my head. "I don't think so," I said, and suddenly all those tears started to fall.

Mom held out her arms to me. "Come here," she said.

And as if I were four years old again, I crept around the table and right into Mom's lap. We hugged each other and cried.

After we were done, I went upstairs. I sat

down on my mother's bed, still sniffling and gasping and sighing. When I thought I had my voice under control, I called Mary Anne.

I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone my own age to say to me, "It'll be okay. Honest. Call me anytime. We can always talk."

Which is exactly what Mary Anne did say, because she's the perfect friend.

(And I should add that Mom is - almost - the perfect mother.)

Chapter 3.

Ding-dong.

I rang Claudia Kishi's bell fifteen minutes before the beginning of the next meeting of the Baby-sitters Club. Mimi, her grandmother, answered the door.

"Hi, Mimi!" I said. (We all just love Mimi.)

"Hi, Dawn. How are you?" Mimi answered carefully as she let me inside. (Mimi had a stroke last summer and it affected her speech. She talks very slowly now and sometimes forgets words or mixes them up. But she's much better than she used to be.)

"I'm fine," I replied. "How are you?"

"Good . . . good. How about a cup of tea before the meet?"

"Oh, no thanks." It was a very nice offer, but all I wanted was to go to Claud's room and veg out. I hoped the meeting would be a quiet one. I was still feeling rotten about Jeff.

"Okay. I see you." Mimi waved me upstairs.

I grinned at her, then ran to Claudia's room.

"Hey, you're early!" Claudia greeted me.

"I know. I felt like hanging out for awhile."

"Great."

Claudia was lying on the floor, reading the latest edition of the Stoneybrook News. Ordinarily, she does not enjoy reading, but we all like the local paper. We especially like this feature called "Crimewatch," where they list all the robberies and other bad stuff that's happened in town. It's really fascinating. Claudia told me that around Halloween last year, forty-two pumpkin-smashings were reported.