Ann Martin: Baby-Sitters Club 056

"And so," I said finally, "what I've been thinking is that maybe we should come up with some kind of project - planning a musical performance - with the kids we sit for. Whoever's interested." "That's a terrific idea!" exclaimed Jessi.

"But what, exactly, should we do?" I asked. "I mean, we've helped the kids put on some plays and skits already." "And none of us is terribly musical," Kristy pointed out.

"1 don't think that matters too much," said Mal. "We can help the kids organize and plan a show or something. They'll learn a lot just by experimenting. And don't forget. Some of them are pretty musical." "Like the Perkins girls," I said.

"And Shea Rodowsky," added Mary Anne. "Remember his piano lessons. Other kids take lessons, too, like Marilyn Arnold. Plus, we can help them play simple homemade instruments such as drums - you know, oatmeal cartons? - and bells and tambourines." Ring, ring.

"And telephones," said Stacey, giggling. Then she composed herself and reached for the receiver. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club," she said. A pause followed. Then, "Yes? . . . Yes. . . . Oh, mm-hmm." She was not talking to one of our regular clients. It was somebody she didn't know well. Stacey jotted down a few notes and told the caller she'd phone back in a few minutes. When she hung up, she was smiling. "New clients," she announced. "They saw one of our fliers." "Cool," said Dawn. "Who are they?" "Their name is Lowell. That was Mrs. Low-ell. She and her husband have three children. They're eight, six, and three. Two girls and a boy, I think she said. She doesn't know much about us. Just what she read in the flier. Also, she heard from somewhere that we're very reliable." "Our reputation is spreading," said Kristy proudly.

"She needs a sitter for Friday afternoon," Stacey continued. She glanced at Mary Anne who was already checking the record book.

"Let's see. Mal, you're free." Mary Anne frowned. "And Claud, so are you, unless you're going to that art thing you mentioned last week. Oh, and I'm free. Who wants the job?" "I told Vanessa I'd take her to the bookstore on Friday," said Mal. (Vanessa is Mallory's nine-year-old sister. She's a bookworm, like Mal.) "And I did decide to go to the 'art thing,' " I said. "It's an art show. At a gallery." "That leaves me." Mary Anne penciled herself in for the job. Then Stacey telephoned Mrs. Lowell to tell her who to expect on Friday.

The numbers on my digital clock flipped from 5:59 to 6:00.

"Well, I guess that's that," said Kristy. "Good meeting, you guys." My friends and I stood up. Kristy removed the pencil from over her ear and stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans.

"See you in school tomorrow!" Jessi called to Mal as they ran down the hallway to the staircase.

"I'll call you tonight!" Mary Anne said to Kristy.

"Kristy, your brother's here to pick you up!" Dawn yelled.

And Stacey, my best friend, said, " 'Bye, Claud. Phone me tonight and we'll tawk." I laughed. I watched my friends leave the house.

Chapter 3.

Mary Anne's afternoon with the Lowell kids was easy, especially considering it was a new job. Sometimes an unfamiliar baby-sitter can be upsetting to kids, but the Lowells were as good as gold, according to Mary Anne.

Promptly at three-thirty, Mary Anne rang the Lowells' bell. Mrs. Lowell answered the door. Before she said hello, she glanced up and down at Mary Anne. She did it very quickly, but Mary Anne said it made her feel kind of strange, like she was being inspected. Anyway, Mrs. Lowell must have approved of what she saw because she stretched her mouth into a smile. Then she said, "I guess you're Mary Anne Spier." She seemed like any other mom.

"Yes," Mary Anne replied. And then she added formally, "From the Baby-sitters Club." She held up her Kid-Kit as if it were proof of this.

"Come inside. I'm Denise Lowell. I'm glad you were available. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?" Mary Anne shook her head. "Nope." "Terrific." Mrs. Lowell and Mary Anne sat in the kitchen. "So you are ... how old?" asked Mrs. Lowell.

"Thirteen." "And how long have you been babysitting?" "About two years. Before that, some moms let me be mother's helpers, though. I've taken care of all ages of kids, even babies." Mrs. Lowell nodded with satisfaction. Then she told Mary Anne where to find emergency numbers. And then she called, "Children! Caitlin, Mackie, Celeste!" In less than a minute, the Lowell kids had run into the kitchen and were standing in a line. At first, Mary Anne just gazed at them. This was when she decided they looked like dolls. The children stood silently in their line. They didn't smile, but they gazed back at Mary Anne with clear blue eyes. The children were blond, their hair as light as Dawn's, and their complexions were pale. Caitlin and Mackie were dressed in what Mary Anne guessed were private school uniforms. Caitlin wore a blue plaid skirt, a blazer, a white blouse and white tights, and red shoes. Mackie wore neatly pressed pants, a blazer, and brown oxfords. And Celeste, a large bow in her hair, was wearing a white blouse and a pink pinafore.

"Thank you, children," said their mother after a moment, and the kids left the kitchen quietly. Mrs. Lowell turned to Mary Anne.

"I'll only be gone for about an hour and a half today," she said, and gave Mary Anne a short list of instructions. A few moments later, she left. Celeste cried briefly, then calmed down.

"So what do you guys want to do this afternoon?" asked Mary Anne. She was in the family room, holding the sniffling Celeste in her lap.

Caitlin looked thoughtful. "Tell us about your family," she said.

Mary Anne was startled. "My family?" "Yeah. Do you have any pets?" "Oh." Mary Anne smiled. She likes curious kids. "I have a kitten," she replied. "His name is Tigger." "What color is he?" asked Mackie.

"And is he a he or a she?" asked Caitlin.

"He's a he. And he's gray striped." "Does he talk?" Celeste tipped her head back to see Mary Anne's face. Her tears were drying on her cheeks.

"Does he talk? Well, he mews," said Mary Anne.

"Do you pretend he talks?" Celeste pressed.

"Sometimes." "Do you have brothers and sisters?" asked Caitlin. Then she added, "I'm lucky. I have one of each." "Me, too," said Mary Anne. "Well, really they are my stepbrother and stepsister. Guess what. My stepsister is also my best friend. And she's the same age as me." "Ooh," said Mackie. "What's a stepsister?" Mary Anne tried to explain. When she had finished, she said, "Dawn is also a baby-sitter, like me. We both belong to the Baby-sitters Club." Well, of course then Caitlin wanted to know about the other members of the BSC. Mary Anne began with Mallory. "She has seven brothers and sisters!" she exclaimed.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. "She must be Catholic," she said.

Mary Anne raised her own eyebrows. "I - " she began to say.

But Mackie interrupted her. "What religion are you?" he asked.

"Well . . . my family doesn't go to church very often," Mary Anne replied, "but when we do, we go to the Presbyterian Church." "Tell us more about your kitty," said Celeste. By that time she had turned herself around so that she was sitting face to face with Mary Anne. "Do you dress him up?" So many questions! Mary Anne had never encountered kids like the Lowells. Even Karen Brewer (Kristy's little sister) who is an incredible talker, doesn't ask question after question. (Maybe that's because she'd rather talk than listen.) Mary Anne told Celeste that Tigger doesn't like to wear clothes (he prefers his fur), and then she managed to engage the kids in some outdoor games, after they had changed their clothes of course. They played mother, may I? and red light, green light, statues, and hide-and-seek.

Finally, Celeste plopped herself down on the lawn and said, "I'm tired. My legs won't hold me up anymore." "Let's go inside then," said Mary Anne. "Caitlin? Do you have homework?" "Not on Friday!" "How about you, Mackie?" "Not in first grade!" "Can we watch TV?" asked Caitlin. "Leave It to Beaver is on. Mommy always lets us watch that," "Sure," replied Mary Anne, and she led the kids inside. They settled themselves in the family room - but no one could find Leave It to Beaver, no matter how often Caitlin switched the channels.