Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 041

How could I turn him down?

I couldn't. "Dad?" I called. "Logan's here.

We're going to go to the park for a few hours, okay?" "Okay," replied my father.

So I found my skates, bundled up, and set off with Logan. I had to admit that walking through the light snow that was falling was nice. Romantic, too.

The walk to the park took about ten minutes, and Logan talked most of the way there. That was okay with me. I didn't feel much like talking.

When we reached the park, my body still half at home by the fire, Logan said, "Boy, it's crowded today." Stoneybrook's little park was crowded. It was colorful, too. Kids wearing bright ski jackets were playing everywhere. They looked like confetti against the sharp, white snow.

"Now, I've got everything planned," Logan informed me. "Ice-skating first." "Okay," I replied, beginning to feel even better about the afternoon.

Logan and I sat next to each other on a bench by the frozen pond. Laughing, I laced up Logan's skates for him, while he laced up mine. Then we tottered arm-in-arm to the edge of the pond and stepped gingerly onto the ice. In a flash, Logan was flying me around the pond, holding tightly to my hand. Or maybe I was gripping his. I am not a good skater. In fact, unlike Kristy the tomboy, I'm no good at sports at all.

I think something is wrong with my coordination.

"Logan!" I said, gasping. "Slow down!" "Oh, you want a leisurely turn around the ice? That's a good idea. Then everyone can see what a great couple we make." Logan dropped my hand, and we linked arms again. We skated around and around. Sometimes we had to dodge little kids, and twice I almost fell, but still skating was pleasant. . . . Until my toes began to freeze.

I skated slower and slower. I could barely feel my feet.

"Mary Anne?" said Logan questioningly.

"Can we stop now?" I asked. "My toes are - " "Sure. I'm tired of skating, too," said Logan.

Whew! What a relief.

Logan and I glided back to the bench, untied our laces, and pulled our skates off. "Ahh," I said, rubbing each foot between my hands. A little feeling began to come back. I wriggled my toes. That was more like it.

As soon as I'd put my boots on, Logan jumped up, skates slung over his shoulder again. "Next we're going to be kids!" he exclaimed. "Look over there." I turned in the direction that Logan was pointing and saw a group of children building a snowman.

We didn't know a single one of them, but Logan trotted over to them anyway, and I followed him.

"Need a little help with that?" Logan asked two girls who were valiantly trying to lift the snowman's head onto his body.

The girls looked up at Logan. "Sure!" they said.

Logan plopped the head onto the body.

"Thanks! Will you help us find some sticks and pebbles and things so we can finish our snowman? We want him to look just right." "Of course," Logan replied. "Come on, Mary Anne." Logan wandered happily around the park, looking for twigs. I limped after him. Once again my feet were starting to freeze. "Logan, I'm - " But Logan didn't hear me. He was too busy putting a face on the snowman. When the snowman was finally finished, Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me to a quiet area of the park. I could hardly move. You need your toes for balance, and I couldn't feel mine.

"Let's make snow angels," Logan said, and flopped face up onto the snow.

"Logan - " "Come on. We're kids again today, remember?" "But Logan, I'm cold." "Oh. Well, let's go over to the snack bar and get some hot chocolate. My treat." I hobbled to the snack bar and allowed Logan to buy two hot chocolates with whipped cream on top. He carried them to a bench and handed me one of the steaming cups. I had taken my mittens off, and for a moment, I just held the cup, trying to warm my hands.

By now, my-feet weren't the only frozen parts of my body. The rest of me was pretty cold, too. In fact, my teeth were chattering, which made drinking sort of interesting.

We finished our hot chocolates and then walked slowly through the park. Logan kept admiring the white-frosted tree branches, the mounds of snow that were actually buried bushes, and icicles that hung from unlikely places. Once, we saw a male cardinal fly from one tree to another, a splash of red against the gray sky.

Even I was enchanted by that and let out an "Ooh." Logan looked at me happily.

I think he was going to tell me something, but I just had to say, "Logan, I'm really sorry, but I'm freezing." "You can't be too cold, Mary Anne. I don't feel cold." (Logan wasn't even wearing his gloves.) Why couldn't I feel cold? I was cold. I get cold easily.

Logan was heading for the pond again. "One more time on the ice?" he said.

The ice? No, no, no ...

It was time to speak up - and be forceful. This was not going to be easy. I have trouble being forceful with anyone. But since my body was turning into an iceberg, I said, "Logan, can we go home now? I really am freezing." Logan took a hard look at me. At last he said, "Okay," in a sort of huffy voice, and marched toward the park entrance, leaving me to follow him.

All I could do was sigh.

Chapter 5.

Right after lunch on Saturday, Kristy's grandmother was picked up by some friends who were taking her to the movies, Watson and Kristy's mom left to go shopping in a nearby town, Charlie went off somewhere in the Junk Bucket (his car), and Sam headed for school to attend a special meeting.

So Kristy baby-sat for David Michael, Emily, Andrew, and Karen. David Michael and Andrew were wound up. The day was gray and sloppy, so they'd been cooped up all morning and had no chance of going out in the afternoon, either. They ran screaming through the house. They could make a circle by starting in the front hall, tearing through the dining room, into the kitchen, through another hallway, through the living room, and back to the front hall. They looked as if they were chasing each other, but Kristy couldn't tell who was chasing whom. Sometimes Andrew was just in front of David Michael, and sometimes it was the other way around. Neither of them was tagging or tackling the other. Kristy guessed they were just having a let-your-energy-out-however-you-can chase.

The chase had been going on for about five minutes when Emily joined in. She's a bit unsteady on her legs, so she couldn't keep up with the boys very well, but she can scream along with the best of them. And she figured out the circle through the house that her brothers were making. So she chugged along, giggling, while David Michael and Andrew kept passing her. The "chase" reminded Kristy of that story about the tortoise and the hare.

Ordinarily, Kristy would have put a stop to the running around. (It was the kind of indoor activity that could lead to tears, or to a knocked-over-and-broken something.) But the kids were having so much fun that Kristy let them go for awhile. Besides, she was worried about Karen.

Karen had been sitting on the bottom step of the stairs since before everyone had left. Her chin was resting in her hands, and she seemed oblivious to the three children who kept roaring by her. She just sat, looking thoughtful. No, Kristy decided. Not thoughtful, sad. Karen looked truly sad.

"Karen?" said Kristy.

Karen didn't answer. She didn't move, except for her eyes. She looked up at Kristy. And her eyes seemed to say, "Everything in my life is wrong." "Come on, Karen," said Kristy, reaching for one of Karen's hands. "Let's have a talk. We'll go into the den, so we can escape your brothers and sister." Karen stood up wordlessly and let Kristy lead her into the den. Kristy pushed the door closed - but not all the way. She needed to keep her ears open for the other kids.

"So what's going on?" Kristy asked Karen. ''ve hardly ever seen you look like this." "Like what?" asked Karen. She was curled into a tight ball at one end of the couch. Kristy was sitting at the other end, but Karen wouldn't look at her.