Ann Martin: Dawn's Big Move

Dawn's Big Move

Ann M. Martin

Chapter 1.

"You add what!" asked my stepsister, Mary Anne. She looked up from the steaming wok on the kitchen stove.

"Arrowroot," I answered. "And keep stirring."

"Arrowroot?" Mary Anne said. "That sounds sickening."

"It's for thickening," I replied. Then I realized what I'd said. So I added, "Underthtand?"

We both started giggling. It was one of those days.

I don't know about you, but I go crazy in the early fall. Especially when the air is so cool and clear you can almost drink it. I just want to run around in the falling leaves and scream and sing. So what was I doing? Slaving in the kitchen with Mary Anne Spier, trying to make "Tofu Garden Delight."

Bet you're dying to know what that is. Well,

I wasn't too sure myself. But it's the name of this excellent stir-fry dish at a restaurant called The Source inAnaheim,California (that's close to where I'm from). Since Mary Anne and I had agreed to make dinner that night, I was determined to figure out the recipe. Even if it meant being cooped up on an incredible day.

You know what Mary Anne thinks? She's convinced I like the fall because inCalifornia the weather is the same all year round and there is no fall. Well, I love Mary Anne — she is my best friend in the world and I mean the world — but here's the news for all you East Coast dudes: WRO-ONG. There are seasons inCalifornia , and leaves do fall from trees. Okay, it's not as vivid as here, or as cold, but it has its own good points.

Here, by the way, isStoneybrook,Connecticut . And I, by the way, am Dawn Schafer. My mom and I moved here fromCalifornia when I was in seventh grade (I'm in eighth now). See, Mom grew up here and her parents still live here, so she figured she'd move back here after she and my dad divorced.

Yes, it's true. My parents live on opposite sides of the country, like bookends. Sometimes I tell people I have a "bicoastal family" because it sounds pretty cool. But let me tell you, it feels pretty awful.

You know what else? My brother, Jeff, lives

inCalifornia with my dad. He did move here originally with Mom and me, but he wasn't happy at all. He started having trouble in school and being really moody, and we finally realized he was homesick for Dad (andCalifornia ). So after a lot of arguing and crying, my parents decided to let him live with Dad. I really, really, really miss him. He's ten years old, and I don't know, I feel weird not being around to see him grow up. I've been thinking about visiting Dad and Jeff again a lot lately. I have been out there a few times. It's fun, but boy, is it hard to say good-bye. Plus my dad has this girlfriend named Carol, which makes things complicated. At first I didn't care for Carol. Okay, the truth — I couldn't stand her. She was always trying to act super-young, as if she could be my age, but she's like thirty-two or so. Actually, I don't mind her now. She acted her age once, and I was pretty impressed. I mean it, too. It happened when the whole Baby-sitters Club went out there to visit. (The BSC is a club I belong to. I'll tell you about it later.) One of our members, Stacey McGill, got a crush on some guy and started hanging around with him and his friends. Well, they were pretty wild — wild enough to wind up having a car accident. Nobody was hurt, thank goodness. But when Carol found out, instead of keeping it a secret (to be cool

and get on our good side), she told my dad. I know it may sound weird, but I respected her after that. She was acting like a responsible grown-up.

Dad's thinking of marrying Carol, and that's another reason I want to go out there so badly. I mean, if she's going to be his wife (my stepmother) I should get to know her a little, right?

Anyway, that's the western side of my family. As for me and my mom, well, we haven't exactly let the grass grow under our feet. (Don't you love that expression? It means that we haven't just sat around doing nothing.) First of all, I joined the Baby-sitters Club. Because of that, I made eight fantastic friends, including Mary Anne Spier. And Mom has gotten involved with all kinds of local organizations. She als6 got involved with a guyl Who? Well, he was her high school sweetheart and his name is Richard Spier.

Yes, the father of Mary Anne, who, as you know, became my stepsister! You see, Mary Anne's mom died when she was a baby. Mary Anne doesn't even remember her, and Richard didn't talk about her at all for years. Her death left him shocked and heartbroken, and he could barely make it through the day. He even left Mary Anne with her grandparents for a long time, until he could pull himself together.

Eventually he took her back and raised her by himself. Now, he is not exactly Mr. Laid Back. With Mary Anne, he became incredibly strict. He made her wear little-girl clothes, keep her hair in pigtails, and come in for super-early curfews until seventh grade. Mary Anne hated that, but she forgives him. She says he was just worried about being a perfect mother and father.

Whatever.

Fortunately, he treats her like a true thirteen-year-old now. He's still kind of stuffy, and super-organized. (Make that mega-organized. Twrbo-organized. I mean, he wears his shirts in a strict order each day so they wear out evenly.) But my mom liberated him. Now, how would you picture a woman who'd fall in love with Richard Spier? Guess again. My mom couldn't be more different. She's . . . well, easy-going, fun-loving, carefree, ab-sentminded. . . .

Okay, okay, she's sort of a space cadet. Not always, but she does do some pretty strange things. In our house, it is not unusual to find a mitten in the refrigerator or a set of keys in the microwave. And it's kind of amazing we manage to eat regular dinners. Once I discovered raisins in my clam chowder. Another time she made a yogurt-based salad dressing with

oregano and ground pepper — but we had to dump it because she used vanilla-flavored yogurt.

Ta-da. We are now on one of my favorite topics. Food. I am very careful about what I put in my body. I eat no red meat, and I find sugary things absolutely disgusting. Whole grains, sprouts, tofu, organic vegetables — I love natural, healthy foods.

Okay. Are you done saying "Ew" and pretending to barf? Good. A lot of kids feel the same way, but you know what? I'm shrugging. It doesn't matter to me. That's the way I am, and I'm pretty happy about it.

"Here it is!" I exclaimed, pulling from the cupboard a jar of arrowroot. (It's a white powder that looks a little like baking soda.)

"What does it taste like?" Mary Anne asked. "Wood?"

"No, Mary Anne," I replied patiently. "I mean, not that I know what wood tastes like. Arrowroot's like cornstarch, but not as gloppy. Now keep stirring! Look, the bok choy's burning."

"The who?"

My stepsister, you may notice, is not a health food freak. But I love her anyway. Of all the people I've ever met, she is the most caring and sensitive. She can practically read my mind when I'm feeling terrible, and she is

the best listener. I am soooo lucky to have Mary Anne as a sister. The only thing I don't like doing with her is going to movies. She cries a lot in general, but at movies it's pretty embarrassing. I mean, when we saw Pocketful of Miracles at an oldies festival once, they practically had to call a flood warning.

I should also tell you that Mary Anne is the only BSC member with a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno and his looks are numero uno. We are talking hunk. He has curly hair, blue eyes, a Southern accent, and he plays sports and likes to baby-sit.

No, he's not perfect. He can be bossy (Mary Anne broke up with him over that once) and he takes it way too personally when his sports friends tease him about his sitting. But other than that, he's pretty cool.

Now. Back to the drama of the stir-fried dinner. Act One, the Preparation. I threw in some vinegar and soy sauce and it began to smell delicious. Even Mary Anne agreed. I checked the rice on the back burner, and it was perfect.