Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 123

"Let's go." Mrs. Korman held the door for her husband. 'Are they going to behave?" Abby heard her say to Mr. Korman as the door shut.

"Hi, Bill!" Abby joined him in the den, where he was slumped on the sofa watching a movie. "How's school?" Bill is nine. He and Melody go to Stoneybrook Day School.

"Okay, I guess. Better than home. At least it keeps me away from my bratty sister for awhile," he said.

"Is this a video?" Abby asked, recognizing the movie.

"Nope. It's on cable today. I love this part," he said, staring at the screen. Abby got the message. He didn't want to be disturbed.

She decided to go upstairs and say hi to Melody, who is seven. As Abby walked to the back staircase, she wondered what it would be like to live in a house this big. Her house is large and so is Kristy's, but the Kormans' house is the biggest one on the street.

Melody was sitting in the middle of the floor, picking up the pieces of a board game, one at a time. "I don't see why Bill doesn't have to help. He was playing too," she said to Abby before Abby had a chance to say a word.

"I think Bill is watching a movie," Abby said. As soon as she saw the expression on Melody's face, she wished she hadn't mentioned it.

Melody jumped to her feet. "He knew I wanted to watch the cartoon marathon. And Mom said I could." She pushed past Abby and ran downstairs.

Abby followed close behind.

"It's my turn to watch the television in here," Melody announced as she barged into the den. She picked up the remote control and switched the channel. "Mom said I could at lunch, and I know you heard her." "Did you hear your mom say that, Bill?" Abby asked.

"Let her watch her cartoons. I'll go upstairs and watch in Mom and Dad's bedroom." "Fine. I don't want you in here anyway." Melody curled up on the couch.

"That's a good idea. Thanks, Bill, for being so cooperative." Abby smiled at him and reached out to give him a high five as he walked past, but he ignored her.

"How about a snack? I could fix something," Abby suggested, hoping to improve their moods a little. "What sounds good?" "There's ice cream and chocolate syrup and whipped cream in a can," Melody said. "You could make sundaes." "Sounds good to me. Bill?" He had stopped at the bottom of the staircase when Abby mentioned the snack.

"Okay. Will you bring it up when it's ready?

I don't want to miss any more of the movie." Abby thought a moment. She didn't like setting a precedent of waiting on kids, but he had agreed to go upstairs pretty easily. ,"Sure. It'll take a few minutes." Bill disappeared up the staircase.

In the freezer, Abby found vanilla ice cream. She set it out on the counter while she gathered the rest of the ingredients. There was a jar of cherries in the pantry, so she decided to add a cherry to each sundae.

The ice cream was hard packed and she had to let it soften for awhile. Just as she decided it was ready to scoop, Bill stomped through the kitchen.

"Bill! What's going on?" she called after him. There was no answer.

Abby filled the bowls with ice cream, poured on chocolate syrup, covered it all with whipped cream, then dropped a cherry on top of each sundae. As she was placing the bowls on a tray to take into the den, she heard a shriek.

Hoping that the sight of her ice-cream creation would end whatever problem was brewing, Abby picked up the tray and rushed into the room. Melody was standing in front of the television screen, blocking the picture.

"Out of the way, I said. I'm missing my movie," Bill yelled.

"I thought you were going to watch it upstairs," Abby said.

"That TV is too little. I can't see a thing. She can watch her dumb cartoons up there. Who cares whether you can see them or not? Melody, move out of the way right now." "No! I'm watching what I want." She leaned against the screen.

Bill ran to her and gave a her a shove out of the way, then grabbed the remote control. Melody held on tightly to it.

"Stop! Stop it right now," Abby said firmly, looking for a safe place to set the tray.

Melody and Bill fell to the floor, wrestling for control of the remote. Bill stood up, pointing the device toward the TV and changing the channel. Abby parked the ice cream on a table far away from the wrestling match and moved in toward Bill and Melody.

Before Abby could reach them, Melody grabbed Bill's arm. Bill shoved her, harder this time, and his sister fell back, hitting her head on the sofa with a thunk. She screamed.

Abby dropped to her knees beside Melody. 'Are you okay?" she asked.

"My head! I hit my head!" Melody wailed. "It was his fault. He pushed me. You saw him!" Her cries rose and fell as Abby checked for blood or a bump and didn't feel anything serious.

"Shh!" Abby pulled her close and rocked Melody back and forth. "There's no blood. We'll put some ice on your head and it will be fine." Bill backed toward the door. "Wait a minute," Abby said to him. "Melody, you sit here on the sofa while I find an ice bag." Melody nodded and wiped her face. "What about my ice cream?" she asked.

Abby shook her head. "It's a shame you were hurt and Bill shouldn't have pushed you. But you were fighting too." Bill was reaching for one of the bowls of ice cream.

Abby picked up the remote control and turned off the television. "Bill, please put that down and tell Melody you're sorry." "I am not sorry," he said and shoved a spoonful of sundae into his mouth.

Melody started to whimper again.

"You need to go to your room and think about why you're not ready to apologize to your sister," Abby suggested.

Bill slammed his bowl onto the table and stomped out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, Abby picked up the tray of sundaes. Ice cream wasn't an option in the present climate.

In the kitchen, Abby dumped the melted sundaes into the garbage disposal, then grabbed a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. It would make a perfect ice bag.

"Can I watch my show now?" Melody asked Abby as she entered the den.

"I think we'll leave the television off for awhile," Abby said. "Where did you hit your head?" "Here." Melody pointed to the back of her head.

Abby draped the "ice bag" over the injured spot. "Does the ice help any?" she asked.

Melody nodded and the bag slipped off. Abby rearranged it. "You need to sit quietly or it won't stay in place," she said. She spotted a copy of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 on the end table. "Would you like me to read to you while you rest?" Abby asked.

Melody nodded again and the bag slipped again. "You might want to hold it in place," Abby suggested. She opened the book and started reading.

They were starting the third chapter when Abby heard the garage door open.

"It's Mom and Dad." Melody jumped up. Still holding the peas in place she ran to the back door.

"What happened to you, young lady?" Mrs. Korman said.

Melody sniffed once and then burst into tears. Mrs. Korman gathered her up in a hug and looked at Abby. Then Mr. Korman entered, carrying a sleeping Skylar, and headed up the stairs, looking briefly at his wife and older daughter and frowning.

"Bill, he ... he grabbed the remote control and he threw me down on the ground and jumped on top of me, hitting me and hitting me until I couldn't hold on to it anymore. Then I tried to take it back and he pushed me real hard and I fell into the couch and hit my head. And it really hurts." Melody cried into her mother's shirt.

Mrs. Korman looked at Abby again.

"Bill and Melody were arguing over the remote control. He did push her, and she fell, but . . ." Abby began, wanting to explain that both the children had been fighting.

"Not again," said Mrs. Korman in a tired voice. She wriggled free of Melody. "What started the argument over the remote?" "You said I could watch cartoons, but Bill was watching a movie." "We have two televisions in this house," said Mrs. Korman.