Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 056

"Really? You mean it?" cried Mackie.

Uh-oh. Now what? This wasn't how Stacey's reverse psychology was supposed to work. I could picture what would happen that afternoon. The kids would gorge themselves with Oreos and be sick to their stomachs by the time their mother came home. That would be great, just great.

"Urn," I began.

Ring, ring.

"Telephone! I'll get it!" shrieked Caitlin. She dashed out of Celeste's room. Several moments later I heard her call, "Claudia! For you!" Caitlin handed me the extension in the hallway. It's probably Mrs. Lowell, I thought miserably. She's phoning to check up on me.

But the caller was Mary Anne.

"I'm at the Hobarts'," she said. "A whole bunch of us are here. We're planning the band. Do the Lowells want to join?" "Oh, my gosh! I forgot to ask them. I think we'll just walk on over there so the kids can see what's going on. We need to get out of the house. We'll be there in a few minutes." The Lowells forgot about the cookies when I told them we were going to take a walk and meet some new kids, and that they would get to see Mary Anne again. Soon we were milling around the Hobarts' backyard along with Myriah and Gabbie, who had run over from next door; Jamie Newton; Mallory with Nicky, Margo, and Claire; Kristy with David Michael, Karen, and Andrew; Stacey with Charlotte; Dawn with the Rodowsky boys; and Mary Anne with Jenny Prezzioso. A few other neighborhood kids had arrived, too.

The yard was full of noise and fun.

"I brought my kazoo," announced Jackie.

"I found a pair of tom-toms in our basement," said Haley Braddock. "Matt can play those because he can feel the beat." (Haley's brother Matt is profoundly deaf.) Celeste spotted Mary Anne, ran to her, and clung to her hands (what was wrong with me?), but Mackie and Caitlin joyfully joined the other kids in planning the band and deciding what songs to learn. They had so much fun that when it was time to leave I hated to call them away. And believe me, they did not want to be called away.

"I don't want to leave!" cried Mackie.

"Maybe," said Caitlin, eyeing me, "Claudia will let us eat Oreos when we get home. We never got to eat our extras." "No Oreos," I said. "It's too close to dinner now." "But we're hungry!" said Mackie.

"Good, then you'll have plenty of room for your supper." I walked the Lowell kids home (after I pried Celeste away from Mary Anne), and they whined and complained the entire way.

"You promised us Oreos," said Caitlin.

"I promised you Oreos when it was four o'clock. Now it's too late." "Hmphh." Back at the Lowells' house, I settled the kids into a game of Memory. They kept slipping out of the family room, though. One at a time. Soon I discovered what they were doing. Sneaking grapes.

"I said no snacking!" I cried.

"No, you didn't!" replied Mackie. "You said no Oreos." I sighed.

I prayed for Mrs. Lowell's safe and quick return.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Chapter 6.

"Junk food, anyone?" I asked. I pulled a sack of Payday bars from the depths of one of my bureau drawers.

"Got any chips or Fritos?" asked Stacey.

"Or wheat germ biscuits?" asked Dawn.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Wheat germ biscuits. I have them hidden here under the bed along with my endless supply of tofu." (Dawn laughed.) "Will you settle for unsalted stone-ground wheat crackers?" I asked.

Dawn raised her eyebrows. "Sure!" she exclaimed.

"Me, too!" added Stacey. Then she frowned. "Oh, you're kidding. I get it. Silly me. For a moment, I thought - " "No, I really do have them," I interrupted her. "I bought them just for you guys." I found the box of crackers on the floor under a pile of clean laundry. "Here we go," I said. "I aim to please." It was 5:25 and another meeting of the BSC was about to begin. We were sitting comfortably in our usual places. Kristy was ensconced in the director's chair; Mary Anne and Stacey and I were lined up on my bed; Dawn was seated backward at the desk chair, her arms dangling over the top rung; and Jessi and Mal were curled up on the floor.

"Okay, please come to order," said Kristy when the food had been handed around and we were munching away.

We settled down. And right away the phone rang.

"I got it!" said Mal. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club. Mallory Pike speaking. . . . Hi, Mrs. Lowell. . . . Kristy? Okay, just a sec." Mallory put her hand over the receiver and said, "Kristy, Mrs. Lowell wants to talk to you." "Okay," Kristy answered, frowning. She reached for the phone.

Requesting a particular sitter is not club policy.

"Maybe she isn't calling about a job," whispered Jessi.

"That must be it," I agreed.

But Kristy's end of the conversation certainly sounded work-related. "Two hours?" she said. Then she went on, "But - Well, okay. I mean, that isn't. . . um, did something happen? Why don't you want ..." I looked at Kristy. Her eyes were downcast. She seemed to be studying her sneakers. So. I looked at the rest of my friends. They were exchanging puzzled glances.

Finally Kristy said, "I'll call you right back, okay?" "What was that all about?" I asked as soon as she'd hung up.

"I'll explain in a few minutes," Kristy replied. "Who's free on Wednesday afternoon, Mary Anne?" "This Wednesday? Let me see. . . . Just Jessi." "Want to sit for the Lowells, Jessi?" asked Kristy.

"Sure. Why not?" Kristy called Mrs. Lowell back, then faced the rest of us BSC members, looking serious. "I have to tell you this," she said, "and I might as well tell you straight out. When Mrs. Lowell called, she said she needed a sitter, but she asked for someone besides Claudia." I gasped. "What?" I whispered.

Kristy shook her head. "I don't understand it, but that's what she said. Did anything happen when you were there, Claud? If it did, you should have told me about it." "There's nothing to tell. It wasn't my best sitting job ever, but nothing horrible happened. Nobody got hurt, nothing was broken." "Is one of the Lowells a walking disaster like Jackie Rodowsky?" asked Jessi. She looked worried. I knew she was beginning to wonder about the job she'd just accepted.

"No! Not at all. Think of the horrible things that have happened when we've sat for Jackie. Broken vases, grape juice on the carpet, skinned knees, banged heads. The Lowells were angels compared to Jackie." I felt numb. And I was angry that I had to defend myself when nothing had happened.

"The Lowells are sort of angelic, aren't they?" said Mary Anne.

I paused. "Actually, I didn't have quite the experience with them that you did," I said after a moment, "Wait. I'm confused, Claudia," said Kristy. "Were the Lowells okay or not? What did go on when you sat for them?" "Well, nothing. But something." Kristy looked very frustrated, so I rushed on. "Okay. The kids and I didn't really get along. Remember the Delaneys? Well, Caitlin and Mackie reminded me of Amanda and Max Delaney." "You know, they do sort of look like them," spoke up Mary Anne.

"I mean they acted like them. They wouldn't obey me. They tried to get away with things. They snuck food before dinner. When I set limits, they said they were going to tell on me, tell their mom I was mean to them or something." "You should have let me know," Kristy said again.

"Well, I wrote about it in the notebook," I pointed out. "And anyway, like I said, none of the things that happened seemed that bad. No broken lamps, no grape juice stains, not even a skinned knee." Now Mary Anne was frowning. "The kids were perfect when I sat for them. They did everything I suggested. And when Mrs. Low-ell came home she kept smiling and telling me what a wonderful job I'd done and commenting on how happy the kids looked." "What did I do wrong? Maybe the kids really spoiled their appetites when they snuck that food." "What did they eat?" asked Stacey.

"Some grapes." "That's it? Some grapes? You mean a couple of bunches?" "No. Just a few grapes each. I checked the fruit bowl." "That wouldn't spoil their appetites," said Dawn. "I thought you meant they raided the cookie jar." "Nope. But maybe they have small stomachs. Or maybe the problem is something totally different. Maybe the kids told their mother they didn't have fun at the Hobarts'." "Oh, they had a great time," said Mary Anne. "I was watching them." "Then maybe Mrs. Lowell didn't like my taking them somewhere else to play. But she didn't say not to leave the yard." "And the Hobarts are so close by," added Jessi.