Ann Martin: Here Come The Bridesmaids

Claudia and I hugged excitedly. "Oh, I have to ask you," she said. "Did you bring a lined raincoat? I mean, I know it sometimes gets cold at night, so I brought a few sweaters. And I know it doesn't rain much, but I did bring a slicker just in case. And some boots for the mud. But if it rains at night ..."

Thud!

Thud!

WHOOMP!

Claudia's suitcases landed in our trunk.

"I think you're prepared for anything," I said.

She hugged her parents and sister. Everyone said good-byes.

We gabbed nonstop in the car. Soon we were pulling up to Kristy's house, which is in Stoneybrook's wealthy neighborhood.

No, Kristy is not a rich snobby type. Far from it. Most of her life she lived in a normal house across the street from Claudia. Her dad abandoned the family when she was little (yes, abandoned, without even a good-bye), so her

mom had to raise Kristy and her three brothers — Charlie (who's now seventeen), Sam (fifteen), and David Michael (seven). In fact, Kristy dreamed up the idea for the Baby-sitters Club because she saw how tough it was for her mom to get a sitter.

How did everything change for Kristy? If s right out of a soap opera. Mrs. Thomas met this nice guy named Watson Brewer, who happened to be a millionaire. So Kristy got a new dad, a mansion to live in, two stepsiblings (Karen and Andrew), and later an adopted sister (Emily Michelle).

And they were all there to say good-bye when we arrived. Kristy came bounding down the front steps with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

"Is that ill" Claudia asked.

Kristy shrugged. "I'm not moving." And that was that.

To a loud chorus of " 'byes" and "have funs," we drove off.

On the highway we played a memory game called "I Packed My Grandmother's Trunk." Everyone has to add one item, but only after repeating every item that’s already been added.

By the time we got to the airport, we had packed (among other things) a bathtub, a flugelhorn, five frozen dinners, a dead wombat, a year's supply of toilet paper, and a collapsible helicopter. (Don't ask me.)

It was 5:30 when we got on the ticket line. The terminal was packed. Kids were squirming in their down coats, couples were crying, huge families were wandering around like schools of fish.

At the ticket counter, Kristy had to pretend one of Claudia's suitcases was hers, so Claudia wouldn't be charged for overweight luggage. We took our tickets and ran toward the gate.

Except for Claudia. She ran to the snack shop.

After eating a few Goobers and Heath Bars, and after another flurry of tearful goodbyes, we were in the plane, sliding into our seats.

My heart was pounding. My stomach was in a knot. I could barely speak. Claudia and Kristy were giggling for no special reason.

This was it.

We were on our way to California, JUST US!

Kristy got the window seat, but we all crowded around her. We spotted Sharon and Dad looking for us through the waiting room window, arm in arm. We waved, but I don't think they saw us.

Ding, went a soft bell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Flight 403 to Los Angeles," an official-sounding voice announced. "If you'll turn to the front of the cabin, the flight attendants will demonstrate the safety procedures."

Claudia looked excited enough to burst. Kristy paid dose attention to the flight attendant.

I tried hard to pay attention, too, but it was hopeless. I decided that if we crashed, I'd just do whatever Kristy did.

The plane rolled along the ground for awhile, then took off. Connecticut was pitch-black, except for the crisscrossing expressways. Over New York, I felt as if we'd shrunk and were flying around inside the circuit board of some monster computer.

We calmed down somewhere over western Pennsylvania. "What time do you have?" Claudia asked.

"Eight-ten," I replied.

Claudia stared at her watch. "Which is ... eleven-ten, California time?"

"Five-ten," Kristy corrected her. "We get into L.A. at nine-thirty."

"In the morning?" Claudia asked.

"Nope, the night."

Claudia fiddled with her watch. She looked lost.

Soon dinner was served. We all chose "chicken cordon bleu," which was supposed to be chicken wrapped around ham, with a white sauce.

"Tastes like a tennis ball covered with paste," was Kristy's restaurant review.

"I like it," Claud said with a shrug.

I almost gave her mine. But the flight attendant passed by and smiled at us, and I didn't want to look as if I were insulting her.

Boy, was I grateful for those brownies.

"I can't wait to see Dawn," Claudia said while we were finishing up.

"Me, too," I replied. "It feels like she's been gone for years."

"You think she's changed?" Kristy asked.

Claudia laughed. "You're worried she picked up bad habits from the We Love Kids Club."

"Hmmph," Kristy replied. "If she has, they won't last long."

"Well, no matter what, she'll still be Dawn," I reminded them.

But I had to admit, I was wondering, too. About a lot of things. How did Dawn feel about her dad's marriage? Would Kristy, Claudia, and I be imposing on their busy house? Would things feel different between Dawn and me? Would she change her mind about coming back to Stoneybrook?

The in-flight movie ended our conversation. It was a comedy about a dog, which we'd all seen but watched again anyway.

During the closing credits, the captain's voice interrupted the soundtrack to tell us we were descending.

Descending? Already?

Kristy, Claudia, and I plastered our faces to the window (well, sort of). For a long time we saw nothing. I began reading a magazine. Then, just as I was about to fall asleep, Kristy screamed, "Look!"

Below us, surrounded by dark hills, was a huge valley of lights, "On behalf of the flight staff, I want to welcome you to Southern California," the captain announced.

"Yeees! Kristy shouted. "Hoo-ray for Hollywood!"

(I love her, but she can be embarrassing.)

We fastened our belts. Our landing was a little bumpy. Then we practically had to fight to get into the aisle.

You know what? We were thousands of miles from home, but it didn't feel different at all. I mean, an airport looks like an airport, no matter where you are.

But as we passed through the door, where a grinning flight attendant was saying goodbye, a blast of air came through a narrow

opening where the ramp connected to the plane.

Warm air.

That’s when it hit me. We were there. Kristy was hopping down the ramp. Claudia was grinning from ear to ear. Me? I was numb. My winter coat felt ridiculous. I felt as if I were in The Twilight Zone.

"Hiiiiii!"

There, at the end of the ramp, was Sunshine.

That is Dawn's nickname. It's also a great description of her face when she smiles.

And it also tells you how I felt inside at that moment.

We ran into each other's arms so fast we almost fell over. I had missed her so much,

Over her shoulder I could see her dad chatting with Kristy, her dad's fiancee chatting with Claudia, and Jeff looking mildly bored.

"I am so happy you're here!" Dawn cried.

"Me, too," was the only thing I could say before my face turned into Niagara Falls.

Chapter 7.

Jeff.

Stupid, huh?

Well, I had to write something. Dawn would km me if I didn't.

I tried to be nice. Everybody would get mad at me if I told the truth.

Here's what I should have said: Journals are dumb. I could wait till Dad and Carol got married, no problem. And I hate having a house full of girls.

Seriously. I cannot believe how much girls talk. They did not stop from the minute they saw each other at the airport. But first they had to go cry like babies for an hour. You'd think somebody died or something. Everyone in the whole terminal was staring at them.