Ann Martin - Good Bye Stacey, Good Bye

Mom and Dad laughed.

"That's the spirit," said my mother. "Eat your salad." (She watches me like a hawk, to make sure I stick exactly to my special diet.)

I ate a mouthful of salad, and, for good measure, one of chicken. "When are we moving? I hope it's at the end of the school year. I'm really looking forward to graduating with Claudia."

My parents glanced at each other.

"I'm afraid we can't possibly wait that long," my father told me. "The end of the school year isn't for months. We'll be back inNew York four or five weeks from now."

"Four or five weeks?!" For the second time that night, I dropped my knife onto my plate.

"The company wants me back as soon as possible," said Dad, "and I plan to do what they ask. I feel lucky that we don't have to pick up and move toBoston ."

"We put the house on the market today," Mom informed me, "and we've got real estate agents looking for an apartment inNew York . We're going to try to move back to the neighborhood we were in before. That way you'll be near Laine again. Oh, and I talked to Miss Chardon atParkerAcademy . You'll be able to rejoin your class there."

I couldn't believe it. My head was spinning.

Should I jump for joy and call Laine with the great news, or burst into tears and call Claudia with the rotten news?

Mom and Dad took my silence for shock and rushed ahead with more promises.

"We're going to try to find a bigger apartment," said my mother.

"We'll buy tickets to a show once a month," said my father.

"Claudia can visit you anytime."

"You can visit her anytime."

My excitement was growing. It was taking over any other feelings. I remember how I liked to walk downNew York streets, and I could almost feel the city pulsing around me. It was noisy and busy and fast. There was something going on inNew York at all hours of the day and night. In our old apartment, when I looked out of my bedroom window at night, I could see the city spread out before me, a maze of lighted windows. When I look out my window here at night, I see, well, darkness. Plus, there's not a thing to do in Stoneybrook after10 p.m.

"Mom? Dad? This is great!" I cried. "Can I call Laine?"

My parents grinned.

"You can call her when you've finished your dinner," said Mom.

I never ate a meal so fast in my life. In a flash I was upstairs in my bedroom. I have a phone in my room, just like Claudia does, but I don't have a private number. I dialed Laine.

"Hi!" I said. "It's Stacey. You will never in a million years guess what I have to tell you."

"What?" screeched Laine.

I gave her the news.

She screeched some more. Then we began to talk and make plans about my return toNew York . "I'll even be back in our class at Parker," I told her.

Laine paused. "You will?"

"Yeah. . . . Why?"

"Well, I don't know. I was just thinking about when you left. I mean, Allison Ritz and Val Schirmer and all those girls who, um —"

"Who hated me," I finished for her. I began to feel slightly numb. Who was I kidding? I'd been dying to get away from New York and all those former friends by the time we moved to Stoneybrook. How could I have forgotten about that? Here in Connecticut I had Claudia and Mary Anne and Dawn and Kristy, real friends who liked me and didn't care that I had diabetes.

"Laine," I said, "I better go. I'll call you again soon, okay? . . . Thanks. . . . 'Bye." I depressed the button on the phone and then

dialed Claudia's number. "Hi, Claud," I said when she'd answered, and immediately I began to cry.

"What is it? What's wrong, Stace?" she kept asking.

When I finally managed to give her the news, Claudia began to cry, too.

"I have to see you," I told her. "I have to talk to you right now. Do you think I could come over even though it's a school night?"

"I'll check with my parents," Claudia said, "And you check with yours."

Ten minutes later, I was on my way back to the Kishis'.

Chapter 3.

I was greeted at the door by the entire Kishi family, which was a little embarrassing since my eyes were red and puffy and my nose was all stuffed up.

I guess Claudia had told them my news right away. As soon as the door closed behind me, Mimi, Claudia's grandmother, gave me a gentle hug. "Such news!" she said with her soft accent. "Claudia will miss. We all will." (Mimi had a stroke last summer and it affected her speech. Although she's fairly well now, she still mixes up her words sometimes or leaves things out.)

"I can't believe you're going back to New York," said Janine, Claudia's older sister. "Well, of course, I can believe it, but the news was quite a shock." (Janine is really smart and speaks very precisely.)

Claudia's parents offered me a cup of tea, but I stared at Claudia, trying to send her a

message with my eyes. It must have worked, because Claudia said, "Mom, Dad — Stacey and I want to go up to my room. We have a lot to talk about."

"All right," replied Mrs. Kishi. "We understand."

So Claudia and I closed ourselves into her bedroom. We sat side by side on her bed, with Lennie, her rag doll, between us. I held one of Lennie's yarn braids in my hands and began to unravel it.

"Um, Stace, this may sound silly, but I have to ask you this anyway," said Claudia. "Are you really moving back to New York? This isn't some big joke, is it?"

"Not unless Mom and Dad are pulling one over on me," I answered. "And that's not at all like them."

"You're moving in a month? I just can't . . . I don't know." Claudia's eyes filled with tears.

That was all it took to start me crying again. "I don't want to leave here," I wailed. "I like it here. I'm happy. There aren't any green lawns in New York. . . . Yow aren't in New York."

Claudia had bent over and was crying into her lap. She looked worse than I felt. "Hey, Claud," I said. "It's going to be okay. We can still visit each other."

"It's not the same. It isn't the same at all."

How come I was the one who was moving and Claudia was the one who looked hysterical? I reached over and touched her shoulder. "Calm down. Think about me. I'm the one who has to pack up her room, talk to her teachers . . . quit the Baby-sitters Club."

Claudia's sobbing grew louder.

"Shh," I said. "Your parents are going to think we're fighting or something. Claud, is anything else wrong? I mean, besides the fact that I'm moving?"

Claudia finally raised her head. She brushed her long hair out of her eyes, and I caught sight of her earrings, which were dangly little teddy bears. "Isn't that enough?" she replied. "Stace, I don't know if I ever told you this, but ..." Her voice trailed away, and I could tell she was working up to some big confession, maybe still deciding if she really wanted to tell me whatever it was.

"Yes?" I prompted her. I'd stopped crying myself, because I was so wrapped up in Claudia. And I was really hoping she'd go ahead with what she had to say. If she stopped now, it would drive me crazy. It would be like when a little kid dances around, singing, "I know a secret!" and won't tell you what it is.

Claudia cleared her throat. "You," she told

me seriously, "are the only best friend I've ever had. What am I going to do without you?"

"I've been your only best friend? But you just met me a year ago."

Claudia nodded miserably.

I thought about things. Why hadn't I realized this? I should have. When the Baby-sitters Club first began, there were just four members — Claudia, Kristy, Mary Anne, and me. And I had known then that Kristy and Mary Anne were already best friends, and that even though they'd grown up right across the street from Claudia, neither of them was her best friend. But I became Claudia's best friend quickly. I guess I'd just assumed that over the years, Claudia had had some other best friends even though I didn't know anything about them. I mean, I'd had Laine, and in second grade there was Erin Tuki, and in kindergarten Missy Manheim, and in nursery school . . . "How come you never had a best friend?" I asked Claudia.