Ann Martin - Jessi And The Jewel Thieves

Whew! Now you know all about the BSC and its members. But what you don't know is how busy that Wednesday's meeting was. We hardly had time to eat the Ruffles Claudia was passing out, much less try out Stacey's new Melon Mist nail polish. Everybody had babysitting news to discuss, and the phone rang every two minutes.

"Mal and I are going to be pretty busy on Saturday while you guys are living it up in

New York," said Mary Anne, looking at Stacey and me. "We're sitting at the Pikes' — for eight kids, since Becca will be there, too."

"And I'm going to be sitting at the Pikes' on Sunday," said Claud. "But not for eight kids, luckily."

"Right," said Mal. "Only four. Mom and Dad are taking us older kids to a concert in Stamford that night. We've had the tickets for over a month. I can't wait! We're going to hear this jazz band, and my dad actually went to college with the drummer, so we'll get to go backstage and everything."

"Cool!" I said, even though it didn't sound nearly as cool as what I would be doing that weekend. "Well, I hope you all have good luck with Becca this weekend," I went on. "She's not doing too well lately." I filled them in on why Becca was upset, but nobody seemed too worried. They were sure she'd get over it, and by the time our meeting ended they had just about convinced me, too. As I headed home after our meeting, my mind was less on Becca and more on my big weekend in New York. I couldn't wait!

Chapter 3.

Friday afternoon arrived at last. I was finally packed, which hadn't been easy. For three days I'd been putting clothes into my suitcase and then pulling them back out, since I was so unsure about what to bring. I must have called Quint five times to ask his advice on what I would need, and I called Stacey about every hour on the hour.

Mom had loaned me her best necklace, which was made of these shiny black beads called jet. And Mal had loaned me a way cool black sweater with geometric designs in primary colors. I'd been tempted to ask Claud if I could borrow her leopard-print jean-jacket, but I knew that was a bit much. I wasn't sure I could carry it off, anyway. I just don't have the style, or the attitude, or whatever it is Claudia has that lets her wear things like that without looking silly.

Anyway, I was all set. I had an outfit to

wear when I was just walking around (my best jeans, little black boots, and Mal's sweater), clothes to wear while I was lounging at Stacey's father's apartment (pajamas, robe, slippers), and something fancy to wear to Quint's dance concert (a black velvet dress I'd received on my birthday). Plus, I'd packed three books, my clock radio, shampoo and conditioner, a raincoat, and my ballet gear — just in case I had time for some stretching and practicing.

My dad grunted as he lifted my bag into the trunk of the car. "What've you got in here?" he asked. "A set of encyclopedias?"

"Dad," I said, laughing in spite of myself. "I just want to be sure I have everything I might need."

"I think your mother had the same idea when she packed for Squirt," he said. "We could stay in Massachusetts until he's ready for kindergarten!" He showed me Squirt's diaper bag, which was overflowing with diapers, bibs, toys, graham crackers, and pacifiers. I laughed again.

My dad ran back inside to get his own suitcase, and passed Becca on the way. She was lugging her Little Mermaid duffel bag, which seemed to be stuffed as full as it could get. I guess nobody in my family has heard of traveling light.

"Can you help me fasten this?" she asked. "It won't stay shut."

I took it from her and worked on the zipper. There was no way it was going to dose. "You're going to have to take some things out," I said, opening it up wide to see what she might be able to do without. "Hey, Becca," I said, when I spied her red satin party dress. "What's this for?" I didn't think she was going to be needing that at the Pikes'.

"It's for the wedding," answered Becca, in a small, hopeful voice.

Uh-oh. This was not a good sign. Apparently Becca still hadn't given up hope. I was about to give her a gentle, sisterly talk about how we can't always do what we want to do, but I didn't get the chance.

"Everybody ready?" asked my father from behind me. My mom and Aunt Cecelia tossed their overnight bags into the trunk. Mom stuck Squirt into his car seat, and then the rest of us piled into the car. The plan was for us to drive together to the Pikes', where Becca and I would get out. I would make sure someone was there to greet her, and then walk through the Pikes' backyard to Stacey's house. My parents and Squirt and Aunt Cecelia would drive on toward Massachusetts.

"Here we are!" said my father, pulling up

in front of the Pike house a few minutes later. "Now, I want you girls to have a fun weekend. Jessi, you be careful down there in the big city. And Becca, be sure to mind your manners while you're staying with the Pikes."

Becca burst into tears. "I don't wanna stay here!" she bawled.

"Hrnmph!" said Aunt Cecelia. She doesn't have a lot of patience with this kind of thing.

Mom exchanged looks with me, gave me a quick hug and a kiss, and then got out to help Becca out of the car. I heard her murmuring comforting words as I pulled our bags out of the trunk.

"Hey, Becca," called Mallory from the front porch. "I'm so glad you're here. We're just about to have a scavenger hunt! Whose team do you want to be on?"

Becca ignored her. She just sobbed harder. My mother looked a little desperate. "We have to get going," she said to me. Then she turned to Becca. "You're going to be just fine. Look, Mallory is waiting for you."

"I don't care!" cried Becca, her voice muffled by Mom's coat. "I'm not staying."

Mom gently pried Becca's arms from around her neck. "I'm sorry, honey, but we have to go now. You be a good girl." She stood up and I took her place with Becca. " 'Bye!" she said, backing away. "I'll bring you a present,

I promise," she added, wanting Becca to smile. Finally, Mom gave up and climbed into the car.

Mallory trotted down the driveway and stood with Becca and me. Becca was still sobbing. "Becca," I said, "I have to go, too. You'll have a lot of fun with Mallory." I hugged her tight and then stood up. "She's all yours," I said to Mallory, with a little smile. "Good luck!"

"Have a great trip," said Mal. "Write me a postcard."

"I'll be back before you get it," I said.

"I know. But write one anyway." She bent to hug Becca.

"See you," I said. " 'Bye, Becca." I headed through the backyard to Stacey's, trying not to hear Becca's sobs. I looked back once and caught a glimpse of her tear-stained face, and then I didn't look again. Poor Becca. She was going to be fine. I knew that. But there was no way to tell her so. She'd just have to find out on her own.

I lugged my overnight bag onto Stacey's porch. My raincoat was slung over my shoulder and another, smaller bag was under one arm. I rang the bell.

"Jessi!" said Stacey, when she answered the door. "How long are you planning to stay in New York, anyway?"

"Uh, just the weekend," I replied.

"It looks like you're going for a month, with all that stuff," she said. "I don't think you really want to carry so much junk around while you're there. Let's see what we can leave behind."

We sorted through my things and I ended up leaving the raincoat (rain wasn't forecast, and Stacey said she could lend me a jacket if a sudden storm came up), two of the books (Stacey pointed out that I wouldn't have much time to read), the clock radio and the shampoo and conditioner. I hefted the overnight bag again. "You're right," I said. "That's a lot better."

Just then Claudia, Dawn, and Mary Anne rode up Stacey's driveway on their bikes. "We're coming to the station with you," said Claud. "We wanted to see you off before our meeting starts."