Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 030

There was half an hour to kill before it was time to leave, but the three of us used the time well. Dawn and I brushed our hair and placed our presents in a small shopping bag. (I hadn't told Dawn what I'd bought for her mother.) Then we put on nail polish that Dawn had brought with her. I had to ask permission from Dad first, and he said I could wear clear only. Well, that was better than nothing, even if Dawn did get to wear purple.

Meanwhile, Dad called the restaurant, and a store that delivers balloon bouquets, to confirm several things. He put a single red rose in a wet napkin and put the napkin in a plastic bag. Then he added the rose to our shopping bag.

"Where's your gift?" I asked him.

"It's a secret," he replied mysteriously. "Come on. It's six-thirty. Time to go." We reached Chez Maurice at 6:45 on the nose. So far so good. Then Dad told the maitre d' we were part of the Humboldt party, and we were led to a table right away.

It was beautiful! Just as we'd discussed, a bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket by the table. Candles were lit, and on a pristine white tablecloth were fragile blue china plates and real silverware. While Dawn and I gawked at everything, Dad had a conference with the maitre d'. Then the maitre d' left and the three of us sat down. Dawn and I put our presents at Mrs. Schafer's place, and Dad unwrapped the rose and put it right on her plate. Everything looked so elegant.

"The only thing missing is the balloon bouquet," said Dad.

"And my mother," added Dawn.

We laughed.

Luckily the balloons arrived five minutes before Mrs. Schafer did. A waiter tied them to a chandelier over our table. I hoped the chandelier wouldn't get too hot because popping helium balloons at Chez Maurice would be pretty embarrassing.

The balloons had just been tied up and the waiter had left when Mrs. Schafer was escorted to our table. When she saw the three of us, the balloons, the presents; the rose, and the champagne, I thought she was going to faint.

"Surprise! Happy birthday!" we said, but not very loudly.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Dawn's mom. She took her seat at the table a little shakily. "What happened to Stu Humboldt?" Dad smiled. "Forget about him. There's no business dinner. Dawn and Mary Anne and I have had this planned for weeks," he said. Then he pinned the rose to Mrs. Schafer's blouse - and the two of them smiled at each other like they were the only two people in the restaurant.

A little while later, the waiter brought the menus, and the meal began. I won't go into too many details about the meal because, although it was fun and the food was great, the best part was yet to come.

Dessert.

As Dad had arranged with the maitre d', our waiter announced that he would bring us dessert menus, but instead he brought - a cake! No one sang "Happy Birthday," though, and I could tell Mrs. Schafer was relieved.

The cake was beautiful. The frosting was white with pink and blue flowers everywhere, and on top were four candles. We all leaned over for a closer look, but after Mrs. Schafer had blown out the candles, she continued to peer at the cake.

"What is it?" asked Dawn.

Very slowly, her mother pulled out one candle and held up something that had been slipped over it onto the cake.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked my father.

He nodded nervously.

Mrs. Schafer held the something up for Dawn and me to see.

It was a diamond ring.

"It's - it's an engagement ring," she told us. Then she turned to Dad. "I thought we agreed - no rings. We've both been through this marriage business before. We don't need new rings." Dad shrugged. "I just couldn't help myself," he said, "especially since I couldn't even get you a school ring back in twelfth grade." Mrs. Schafer leaned over and kissed my father on the cheek. And as you can imagine, Dawn and I just gaped at them. Finally I man- aged to whisper, "You mean you're getting married?" My father and Dawn's mother nodded.

"We were trying to think of a special way to tell you, but we hadn't come up with anything," said Dad. "I decided this might be the best way - a celebration." He turned to Mrs. Schafer. "I'm sorry I didn't consult you. Do you mind?" "Only a little," she replied honestly. "How can I mind too much with balloons and a cake and - and a ring ..." I could tell she was about to cry so I started to say, "Open your presents." Instead, Dawn looked at me and said in amazement, "We're going to be stepsisters! Can you believe it?" Suddenly / began to cry. Dawn did, too. We threw our arms around each other. Then we asked our parents a million questions, such as when would the wedding be held, would we be in it, and could we invite our friends?

Dad and Mrs. Schafer didn't have too many answers, except that the wedding would probably be a small one, held very soon, and that Jeff would fly in from California for it.

After that, Mrs. Schafer opened her presents. She loved Dawn's day-planner, even though it was no surprise and, as you can imagine, she really loved the school-ring charm I'd gotten her. She almost started to cry again, but instead she said, "What a special gift, honey. I'm so glad you're going to be my stepdaughter." Dad smiled at me.

I grinned at Dawn.

Dawn took her time smiling back.

After that, the party wasn't quite so festive. But it wasn't until I was snug in bed that night, Tigger curled up next to my head, that some other things began to bother me. For instance, Dawn had said her mother doesn't like cats. Well, no way was I giving up Tigger. Somehow, Mrs. Schafer would have to learn to get along with him after the wedding. Then I thought about what a neatnik my father is, and how organized he is. He likes everything just so. How would he ever live with Dawn's messy, scatterbrained mother?

Oh, well, those were small things, I told myself, compared to the fact that I was going to gain a stepmother, a part-time stepbrother, and ... a stepsister. And the stepsister would be Dawn - one of my best friends in the whole world. I could not believe my good luck! Chapter 9.

Dawn and I learned our amazing news on a Friday night. Somehow, we managed to wait all the way until the Monday BSC meeting before we told any of our other friends about it. I honestly don't know how we did that. Sheer willpower, I guess. Also, we really wanted to make a splash. That was the best way we could think of to do that.

I even asked Kristy if Logan could come to the meeting.

"Why?" she asked.

Good question. "Because I have some news," I replied carefully, "and I want all my closest friends to hear it at once." (I purposely didn't say that Dawn and I had news. That might have given the secret away.) "We-ell," said Kristy slowly, "it's not our usual club policy, but sure - if Logan can come, he's welcome." "Thanks," I replied. I already knew that Logan could come. I'd told him to hold five-thirty till six open on Monday in case we asked him to attend the meeting.

At five-thirty on Monday afternoon, Dawn and I were just as beside ourselves as we'd been at Friday's meeting.

"What is it with you two?" asked Kristy testily. "You've got to keep your minds on the meeting. This club is a formal organization, you know." "We know, we know," said Dawn breathlessly. "We also know there'll be lulls after we've finished our business and in between calls. And Mary Anne and I have something very important to tell you." "So you're part of this, too?" Kristy asked Dawn, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I was Kristy's best friend, but lately Dawn and I had been having all the excitement and secrets.

"Well, yes," said Dawn, as if she were making some great confession.

Kristy sighed. "All right. Let's get this meeting underway. Order, order!" I looked around Claud's room. We were all in place - Kristy in the director's chair; Stacey backwards in the desk chair; Claudia, Dawn, and I lined up on Claud's bed; and Jessi and Mal on the floor. The few times Logan had attended meetings, he'd sat wherever he could find a space, usually next to me. But on that afternoon, he was also sitting on the floor, leaning against Claud's closet door.