Ann Martin - Good Bye Stacey, Good Bye

praying it isn't. She doesn't want her family ripped in half.

Mary Anne stepped inside and Dawn closed the door behind her. Mary Anne really likes the Schafers' old house. The rooms are small and dark, the doorways are low, and the stairways are narrow. This may sound spooky and gloomy (and maybe it is), but Mary Anne loves the idea that the house is so old, and that all sorts of history has gone on while it was standing.

"I bet Jeff didn't want me to baby-sit, did he?" Mary Anne whispered to Dawn.

Dawn shook her head. (It's not that Jeff doesn't like Mary Anne. The problem is that he thinks he's old enough to be left alone. His mother agrees that he's old enough to be left alone during the day, but not at night.)

"Oh, well," said Mary Anne. "I'll live. Anyway, I came over early to see if you have any ideas about Stacey's party, or about getting money so we can give the party."

Dawn screwed up her face as she buttoned the last two buttons on her shirt and fastened an earring to one of her ears. "I really don't," she said at last. "How about you?"

"Not one single teeny idea," replied Mary Anne.

"Well, we'll just have to keep thinking," said Dawn philosophically.

"Dawn? Are you ready, honey?"

Mrs. Schafer called this out as she came thumping down the stairs, trying to put on her watch and straighten out her skirt at the same time. Mrs. Schafer is totally scatterbrained and disorganized, but she's really nice.

"I'm ready," Dawn replied.

"But you've only got one earring on," Mary Anne pointed out.

"Oh, I know." Dawn fingered the little pair of sunglasses that was hanging from her right ear. "This is the new style." Dawn is not quite as trendy as Claudia or me, but she's certainly more trendy than Kristy or Mary Anne, so if Dawn said one earring was in, Mary Anne believed her.

Mrs. Schafer and Dawn left for the library in a flurry of excitement. " 'Bye!" they called to Jeff as they dashed out to the car. They couldn't hear it, but Jeff's reply was the slamming of his bedroom door.

Mary Anne went upstairs and knocked on the door. "Jeff?" she called. "It's me, Mary Anne. I'll be here until your mom and Dawn come back."

No answer.

"Let me know if you need help with your homework or anything."

No answer.

"Come down later and I'll fix you a snack."

No answer.

Mary Anne went back down the stairs. She'd finished her homework that afternoon, so there wasn't much for her to do except watch TV. She wandered into the kitchen and looked at the big brick fireplace that had been built in colonial days. She wandered into the dining room and glanced outside through the wobbly panes of glass in the window. Then she wandered into the living room and discovered the mess that she'd written about in the club notebook. A can of creamed spinach was sitting on the couch, and a screwdriver and a doormat had been tossed into a corner. (I told you Mrs. Schafer is scatterbrained.) Plus, the floor was littered with crumpled-up papers.

Mary Anne put the doormat and screwdriver in the garage, and the spinach in the kitchen, and returned to the living room with a plastic garbage bag. She began tossing the papers in the bag. About halfway through the job, she glanced idly at one piece of paper that was hardly scrunched up at all. This is what she saw:

really want to come stay with you...california is my home... about Mom and Dawn anymore...I, please? It would be great...

"What do you think you're doing?"

Mary Anne jumped and turned around. She found Jeff standing behind her, his face red with anger.

"I was just — just cleaning up," Mary Anne replied guiltily, but she knew it didn't look that way to Jeff.

"You were not just cleaning up. You were reading my stuff. I was trying to write a letter. Mail is private, you know. It's a federal offense to read someone else's mail."

Jeff's mouth twitched and Mary Anne thought he might cry. Between that and his blond hair hanging in his eyes, he suddenly looked like a very little boy.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," Mary Anne said. "I guess I was reading your letter, but I didn't mean to snoop. These papers were just lying here on the floor."

Jeff reached over and snatched the letter out

of Mary Anne's hand. He started to stomp back up to his room.

"You know," said Mary Anne, thinking fast, "Stacey McGill is moving back to New York City. That's where she used to live before she moved to Stoneybrook."

Jeff stopped in the middle of a stomp. He turned around and ran back down the stairs. "Really?" he said. "How come? Her parents aren't divorced, are they?"

Mary Anne shook her head. "Nope. Her father's company is transferring him. He has to move because of his job."

"Oh." Jeff dropped onto the couch, the picture of disappointment.

"Stacey really likes New York," Mary Anne went on. "She'll miss her friends here, but, well, I think deep down she's glad she's going back."

"I don't blame her," said Jeff miserably.

"You'd like to go back to California, wouldn't you?" Mary Anne asked him.

Jeff nodded.

"Do you really hate it here?"

Jeff was quiet for a long time. At last he said, "My dad needs me and I need him."

"Your mom and Dawn need you, too. And you need them."

"That's different. We left Dad all alone out in California. Besides, Mom and Dawn are girls. Dad and I are boys. ... I hate girls! They treat me like a baby. Dad doesn't do that. And if I lived with Dad, Mom and Dawn would still have each other." Jeff looked at Mary Ann and then looked away quickly.

"My dad used to treat me like a huge baby," Mary Anne confided, "but I think he just did that because he loves me."

"Maybe," said Jeff slowly.

"Families belong together," said Mary Anne.

"Well, we're not together now. Dad's not with us."

"That's what happens when parents get divorced. But your family is more together now than it would be if you went back to California."

"I don't see how," said Jeff. "Apart is apart. Dad needs me. Mom has Dawn. She doesn't need both of us."

Mary Anne wasn't sure what to think. She could see Jeff's side of the problem, and Dawn's, too. She and Jeff talked for a long time that night.

The next day, Mary Anne and Dawn discussed everything in a whispered conversation during study hall. When the bell rang at the

end of the period, Dawn looked at Mary Anne and shrugged. "I really don't know what's going to happen," she said, "but whether Jeff goes or stays, it's not going to be good. Somebody is going to get hurt."

Chapter 6.

"I can't — oof — jam these in ... any . . . further!"

"Here, let me help you." I ran into the den, where my mother was trying to close up a carton of books she'd just packed, and flung myself on the box.

"Stacey, that works with suitcases full of clothes, but not cartons full of books," my mother said. "I'll just have to take some of these out and start a new carton. Honestly, I thought twenty boxes would be more than enough to pack up the stuff in here. But I underestimated. I bet I've underestimated for every room in the house. How did we acquire so much stuff?"

I frowned, looking around the half-empty den. "When we moved here," I reminded Mom, "we thought the house looked empty, so we bought some things to fill it up. I guess we did a pretty good job."

"Far too good/' Mom replied. "There is no way we're going to be able to fit everything we own into our new apartment."

"I thought the new apartment was bigger than the old one," I said.

"It is. But not big enough to hold a whole houseful of furniture and books and . . . and junk."

My mom was going a little crazy with the packing. She and Dad had found a nice, big apartment in New York, and we could move into it whenever we were ready, but we had run into a slight problem — how to cram a house into an apartment. Mom was right. There was no way.