Ann Martin - Kristy's Great Idea

"Kristy?" Mom asked.

"It was fine."

"Okay, what happened?"

There is absolutely no fooling Mom.

"Well," I said, "you know how hot it was today?"

"Yes."

"And you know how sometimes a hot day can seem really long?"

"Kristy, get to the point."

So I did. And Mom laughed. Then she read my composition and said she thought it was fine. I asked her if she thought "The End" could count as the ninety-ninth and one-hundredth words, and she smiled and said she hoped so.

My mom is really great.

When she left to go talk to Sam, it wasnine o'clock .

I got out my flashlight, turned off the lamp by my desk, and stood at the window that faced Mary Anne's room.

I flashed the light once to let her know I was there.

She flashed back. Good, she was ready.

Then I flashed out this message (it took forever):

HAVE GREAT IDEA FOR BABY-SITTERS CLUB. MUST TALK. IMPORTANT. CAN'T WAIT. WE CAN GET LOTS OF JOBS.

There was a pause. Then Mary Anne flashed: WHAT? and I had to start all over again. I shortened the message. At last Mary Anne flashed: TERRIFIC. SEE YOU TOMORROW. And we put the flashlights away. Mary Anne hasn't

been caught once and we plan to keep it that way.

I was just closing the drawer where I hide my flashlight, when Mom knocked again.

"Come in," I said curiously, turning the light on. Mom doesn't usually come back for a second chat. On the other hand, 1 don't usually keep my door closed for so long.

This time, Mom sat at my desk and I sat on the bed.

"I just wanted to let you know," she said, "that I'm going out with Watson on Saturday night. I forgot to tell you before."

I groaned. Mom has been seeing this guy, Watson, off and on for about four months. She likes him a lot, but I don't like him much at all. He's divorced from his wife and has two little kids. Plus, he's getting bald.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Kristy," Mom said. "I just want you to be able to plan on my being out Saturday. Charlie's got a date, but Sam will be home."

I nodded.

"I wish you could be a little more open-minded about Watson," said Mom. "I can't make you like him, but you haven't given him much of a chance."

The truth is, I haven't given any of the men Mom has dated a chance. I'm afraid that if I

break down and treat them nicely, one of them might marry Mom. Think what could happen then. We're happy the way we are.

"One more thing," said Mom. "This is Watson's weekend to have the children and he has to work on Saturday morning. He doesn't like it, but that's the way it is. He wondered if you'd baby-sit for Andrew and Karen while he's at the office."

I shook my head. Watson has asked me at least three times to sit for his kids, but I won't do it. I don't want to have anything to do with him or his family. I either make up an excuse or else I flatly refuse.

"Okay," said Mom. "It's your choice." She sounded as if she meant, It's your funeral.

But she came over to me and kissed the top of my head, so I knew she wasn't angry.

"Going to bed soon?" she asked.

"Yeah. You can leave the door open," I told her as she left my room.

I said good-night to my brothers, and a half hour later I crawled into bed. Louie sacked out next to me. I lay there stroking him and thinking about Mom and Watson and Andrew and Karen. Then I remembered the Baby-sitters Club and cheered up.

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough!

CHAPTER THREE

Mr. Redmont accepted my composition on decorum. I handed it to him before school, so he wouldn't have to read it while the entire class was hanging around. He didn't count the words, just skimmed it, looked up at me, and said, "This is fine, Kristy. Fine work. You express yourself very nicely on paper."

And that was it. No words of wisdom, no scolding.

1 heaved a sigh of relief and walked to my desk with decorum.

After school, Mary Anne and 1 ran home together again. It wasn't quite as hot as it had been the day before, so we weren't as uncomfortable.

"You're sitting for the Pikes today?" 1 asked Mary Anne as we jogged along.

Mary Anne nodded.

"How many of them?" There are eight Pike children.

"Two. Claire and Margo."

"Oh, not bad," I said. Claire and Margo are four and six. They're fun. More importantly, they like baby-sitters.

"Where are you sitting today?" asked Mary Anne.

"TheNewtons '. David Michael is coming with me. He can play with Jamie."

"Oh, hey, great! Maybe I'll bring Claire and Margo over for a while. They can all play together. And then you can tell me about the baby-sitting club."

"Okay!" I agreed.

We parted when we reached my house, and I was glad to see that I'd gotten home before David Michael. I let Louie out and made a pitcher of lemonade.

At3:30 sharp, David Michael and I were standing on theNewtons ' front steps. Punctuality is an important part of baby-sitting. I have never once been late for a job. My customers appreciate that.

I let David Michael ring the bell. In a few seconds the front door was flung wide open.

"Hi-hi!" exclaimed Jamie. Jamie is three.

David Michael gave me a look that said, I

have to play with a three-year-old who goes hi-hil

I patted David Michael on the back.

"Hi, Jamie," 1 replied.

"Look!" he exclaimed, as we stepped into theNewtons ' front hall. "Look what 1 got!" He held out a little doll in an army uniform. "It's a G.I. Joe."

"Really?" said David Michael, suddenly interested.

"Yup," said Jamie proudly.

"Got any others?" asked my little brother.

"Sure," replied Jamie. "Come on."

The boys ran off. Mrs. Newton greeted me from the kitchen. "Thank goodness for G.I. Joe," she said.

I smiled. "Sorry about David Michael, but it looks like it'll work out okay." I never like to impose on my clients.

"I'm sure it will be fine." Mrs. Newton patted her bulging stomach. "Jamie better get used to other children."

"How long until the baby's due?" I asked.

"About eight weeks."

I sighed. "Oh, I wish it would hurry up!"

"You wish!"

Mrs. Newton gave me the instructions for the afternoon. "Just the doctor's appointment and a few errands," she reminded me. "I

should be back by five-thirty."

"Okay. Five-thirty," I repeated.

As soon as she was gone, I called Mary Anne at the Pikes'. "Come over whenever you want to," I said.

The Pikes live just a few doors away, so Mary Anne showed up in ten minutes. She was pulling Claire and Margo in a red wagon.

"Hi-hi!" Jamie greeted them cheerfully.

"Hi-hi!" Claire, the four-year-old, replied.

David Michael and Margo eyed each other suspiciously. They hadn't played together much, and David Michael was wary of any little girl, especially one who wasn't in his class at school.

We took the kids out back to Jamie's swings. When they were playing happily, Mary Anne said, "So what about the baby-sitting club?"

"Well," I replied, "I thought we could get together with a couple of other girls who baby-sit and form a club — sort of like a company — "

We were interrupted by a thump and a wail.

Jamie had fallen off one of the swings.

"Wahhh!" he cried.

I ran to him and checked him over. No bumps, no skinned knees.

"Wahh!"

"Where does it hurt?" I asked him.

He pointed to his tummy, then let his hand

drift to his knee, and finally up to his head.

"Everywhere?" 1 suggested.

He nodded miserably.

"Maybe we better go," said Mary Anne, rounding up Claire and Margo.

"Okay," I replied. "Listen, why don't we tell Claudia the idea? Let's go over to her house when we're done sitting. She'll be back from her art class then."

"Okay. See you."

Inside, I gave Jamie a cookie, and he and David Michael played with the G.I. Joes and then watchedSesame Street on TV. Jamie's accident was long forgotten by the time his mother came home.