Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 041

"As sad as a rain cloud," Kristy replied, trying to get a smile out of Karen.

No such luck. All Karen replied was, "I feel as sad as a rain cloud." "Why?" asked Kristy. "What's wrong?" Karen shrugged. Then tears filled her eyes. "It's Ricky," she finally managed to say.

"Ricky Torres?" asked Kristy, who tries to keep up with Karen and Andrew's lives, even though she doesn't see them too often.

Karen nodded miserably. Her eyes were red, but no tears had fallen.

"Is he teasing you again?" Kristy demanded.

Karen shook her head. "It's much worse than that." "What, then?" "Ricky and I were supposed to get married. He asked me, and everything. I even have a ring for him. But we had a fight and now we're not talking to each other." "What was the fight about?" Kristy wanted to know.

Karen squirmed. "It was kind of silly, I guess." "Most fights start out that way," Kristy told her sister.

At that moment, she and Karen heard a thud. In less than a second (well, maybe I'm exaggerating) Kristy had flung open the door to the den and was racing along the kids' chase route. She was relieved not to hear tears.

"What happened?" she called.

"Emily lost control," David Michael called back. "She slipped on a rug and fell, but she's okay." Kristy had reached the living room by then and saw Andrew helping Emily to her feet. Emily was smiling. "More!" she cried.

Kristy smiled, too, but had to say, "Sorry. No more. No more of this game, Emily. Or for you two, either," she added, looking at Andrew and David Michael.

"Aww," said Andrew.

"Bullfrogs," said David Michael. Then he added, "What are we going to do now?" "Well," Kristy began thoughtfully, "a certain holiday is coming up." A pause. Then, "Valentine's Day!" shrieked David Michael.

"How about making cards for the kids in your class?" suggested Kristy.

"Okay," said David Michael.

But Andrew said, "I already made cards. Karen and I made them with Mommy. We made a lot." "Maybe you could help Emily, then," said Kristy. "She's never made a valentine before. I'm sure she'd have fun if you worked with her." So it was settled. Kristy spread newspapers over the kitchen table and got out the stash of art supplies that are kept in the den. (By the way, Kristy walked into the den, loaded up the supplies, left - and Karen never budged. She was still a little ball in the corner of the couch.) Kristy left Karen there. They would finish their talk later. She put the supplies on the kitchen table and let David Michael, Andrew, and Emily go to work.

David Michael immediately reached for red construction paper and the pair of safety scissors. He cut out a heart, took a black felt-tipped marker, and wrote on the heart: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO you! YOU LOOK LIKE A MONKEY AND YOU SMELL LIKE ONE TOO! "David Michael!" exclaimed Kristy. "Who are you giving that to?" "Blair D'Angelo. He's a bully. He teases all the girls." David Michael paused. Then he went on. "Hmm. Maybe I better not sign this one." Kristy just shook her head. Then she went to the den to try to pry Karen out. "Come into the kitchen with the rest of us," she said. "I know you've already made valentines, but I need to keep an eye on the others, especially Emily, and I want to talk to you, too." Karen heaved a great sigh and then got up. She followed Kristy into the kitchen. Since the boys and Emily were working on one side of the table, Kristy pulled the empty bench a little away, for privacy, and then straddled one end. Karen sat facing her. Now Kristy could keep an eye on the card-makers and talk to Karen at the same time.

"Okay," Kristy began. "What was your stupid fight about?" "My fight with Ricky? Well . . ." Karen looked down at her hands. "Everyone in our class got invited to Pamela Harding's birthday party. And you know she doesn't like Hannie or Nancy or me or Ricky - or most of the kids. But her parents made her invite the whole class, and our parents made us go to the party. But," Karen continued, "Ricky and I decided to do mean things to Pamela to ruin the party. Ricky even said he would give Pamela a snake as her present.

"But he didn't. He didn't do one mean thing. He gave her a really nice present. And he even smiled at Pamela." "Maybe you're a little jealous," said Kristy gently.

"Maybe. I don't know. Anyway, we stopped talking to each other, and then Ricky poured ink on a drawing I was making. He did it on purpose. So I put chewed-up gum in his desk, and . . . everything's awful. I guess we won't be getting married now. But I don't know for sure, since we aren't speaking." "That's hard," said Kristy. "You must feel pretty bad. But you know what? These things have a way of resolving themselves." "What?" said Karen.

"I mean, they have a way of working themselves out." "Oh." Karen stared off into space.

"Andrew, cut it out!" David Michael cried suddenly.

Kristy looked up in time to see Andrew dropping glitter into David Michael's hair. David Michael was frantically brushing it out.

"You look cool!" Andrew was saying. "You're a punk rocker!" "Andrew," said Kristy. "I don't think David Michael likes what you're doing. Besides - look at Emily. She could use some help." Emily was having a little trouble with the glue. Somehow she had unscrewed the cap. Glue was everywhere, but mostly on her hands - and any place she touched. At the moment, she was brushing her hair out of her eyes, so her face and hair were gluey.

"Uh-oh," muttered Kristy. This was a job for her, not for Andrew. "Bath time, Emily," said Kristy.

"NO!" cried Emily.

"I am so sad," said Karen*.

"You're a monkey-face, David Michael!" exclaimed Andrew.

"Shut up," David Michael replied.

"In this house, we do not say 'shut up/ " Kristy reminded her brother.

"But Andrew called me a monkey-face." "Okay, okay." Kristy led Emily to the sink. "I'll wash you off here for now," she told her. "Andrew, please stop pestering your brother. David Michael, calm down. You've made five valentines already, and four of them are gorgeous, so keep going. Karen, why don't you find a book and I'll read to you guys in the kitchen while David Michael and Emily work on their cards." Karen heaved a great sigh as if Kristy had just asked her to clean the entire house. Then she stood up slowly, left the kitchen, and after ten minutes returned with a copy of The Dead Bird.

"Couldn't you have found something more cheerful?" asked Kristy.

"No," Karen answered, and sighed again.

Kristy almost smiled. The trials and tribulations of being seven, she thought. She began to read the story, and the rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully.

Chapter 6.

"Hello? I'm home!" I called.

It was a Friday night and I had just returned from a date with Logan. We had planned to eat dinner at a coffee shop downtown and then go to the movies. I had told Dad and Sharon that I would be home around eleven.

It was ten minutes of nine.

The date had not gone well.

When we reached the coffee shop, we were shown to a booth. (That was okay.) Then we had opened our menus and looked and looked. The menus were huge, but I chose my meal fairly quickly. I already knew what I wanted. I'd been wanting it all afternoon - a grilled cheese-and-tomato sandwich and a vanilla milkshake.

Soon Logan closed his menu, and right away a waiter materialized. "What can I do for you?" he asked with a smile.

I opened my mouth to give my order, but before I could make a sound, Logan said, "I'll have the cheeseburger deluxe and a large Coke, and my friend will have the same." I just looked at Logan. It's true that I often order a cheeseburger and a Coke, but that wasn't what I wanted. Too late. The waiter had scribbled down the order and left.

"Logan," I said, "that, um, wasn't what I wanted." "No? Sorry. Maybe we can get the waiter back." "That's okay," I mumbled, which got dinner off to an awkward start. We didn't talk much during it.