Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 030

"We're sorry to disappoint you girls," Mrs. Schafer said a moment later. "We had no idea you wanted a fancy wedding. It's a nice idea, but it's not what we want." "Are you at least going on a honeymoon?" asked Dawn.

"Sort of," Dad answered. "Your mother and I will spend the night after the wedding at the Strathmoore Inn. Then maybe we could take a family vacation in the summer. We'll ask Jeff to join us, of course." "You want MS along on your honeymoon?" I squeaked.

"Mary Anne, that won't be the actual honeymoon. As I said before - " "I know. You've already been through this." "Right." We finished our dinner then, managing to decide on a date for the wedding. Later, when the kitchen had been cleaned up, Dawn and I went to my room to talk things over.

"I can't believe we won't get to be in the wedding after all," I said, flopping down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, what a drag," agreed Dawn. "Oh, well. At least we won't have to wear those awful pink dresses you saw." I yanked the pillow out from under my head and threw it at Dawn. She wasn't expecting that, and it hit her in the face. We started giggling. Dawn threw the pillow back at me.

More giggling.

"I am so glad we're going to be stepsisters," I said.

"Me, too. In fact, I think we'll be more like regular sisters. We'll be the closest sisters ever.

I think we should share my bedroom instead of having separate ones." What? What had Dawn said?

I sat up. "What did you just say?" I demanded.

"I said I think we should share my bedroom." "Your bedroom?" "Yeah. When you and your dad move into our house." I just stared at Dawn. I stared at her until her face fell.

"Uh-oh," she said. "Hasn't your father told you yet?" "No," I replied coldly. "He hasn't." Chapter 12.

"Uh-oh," said Dawn again.

"Is that all you can. say? 'Uh-oh'?" I was incensed. Dawn was still sitting on the floor, so I slid off the bed and stood up, towering over her. "Who made that decision?" I cried. "Who made it? And how come you know about it already and no one told me? How come I wasn't asked where I want to live? I suppose we'll have to get rid of Tigger, won't we, since your mother hates cats so much. And how come I have to leave my house? I grew up here. You just moved to Stoneybrook. You've only lived in your house for a little over a year." "Whoa," said Dawn. "I'm sorry. Really I am. I thought your dad had told you about the move, because - " "Well, he hadn't. And furthermore, how are we supposed to fit all our furniture into your house? It's already full of your furniture. I guess my dad and I have to give ours away, but you get to keep yours, right?" Dawn's eyes had filled with tears. "I don't know," she said in a wavery voice. She brushed at one of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"This is the most unfair thing I have ever heard of!" I exploded.

I must have been talking awfully loudly. For one thing, Tigger had long since fled from the room. For another, Dad and Mrs. Schafer had appeared in the doorway.

"Girls," said Dad, and I could tell he was trying hard to control his voice, "what on earth is the matter?" "I'll tell you what's the matter," I replied in a tone that surprised even myself. I never blow up at Dad or talk to him sharply. "She," (I pointed to Dawn), "has just informed me that you and I are moving out of our house and into hers. Apparently everyone knew except me. How come Dawn knew? Huh? How come she knew already? Well, I'll tell you one thing - no, I'll tell you two things. One, I am not getting rid of Tigger no matter how much she," (this time I pointed to Mrs. Schafer), "hates cats. And two, I don't have to like this decision or be nice about it. So there." I crossed my arms and sat down on my bed so hard I was afraid I'd break it. Oh, well. What would that have mattered? I'd be getting one of the Schafers' beds soon enough.

Needless to say, everyone looked stunned, even Tigger, who was peeping cautiously into my room. At last Mrs. Schafer said, "Come on, Dawn. I think it's time for us to go." Dawn was crying hard by then, but I didn't care. Let her. At least she got to keep her house.

Mrs. Schafer put her arm around Dawn as they were leaving. "Mary Anne," she said softly, "I'm sorry you found out this way. We didn't mean for this to happen. And please let me assure you that Tigger will be welcome in our house." Then she led Dawn out of the room, saying over her shoulder to my father, "Call me later tonight, okay?" "All right," replied Dad quietly. Then he sat next to me on the bed.

I was still so mad that I burst out, "You better have a good explanation for this," which is something he has said to me a number of times.

Dad didn't even get angry at me for being so rude. He just started talking. "Mary Anne, I knew you'd be upset about the arrangement," he began. "That's why I hadn't told you yet. I was trying to figure out the right way and time to do it. But it is the best arrangement. You see, it makes much more sense for us to move into the Schafers' house than for them to move into ours. Theirs is bigger. Dawn and Jeff can keep their rooms, and you'll have a room of your own, too. That guest bedroom upstairs will become yours, and the den downstairs can be used when we have guests. You can move all of your furniture into the guest bedroom. You can decorate it so that it looks just like your old room, or you can redecorate it any way you want.

"But if the Schafers moved in here," Dad went on, "you and Dawn would have to share a room when Jeff came to visit. Also, we have fewer rooms than the Schafers do, and they have a bigger yard, as well as the barn for Jeff to play in. It just makes sense for the smaller family with the smaller house to move in with the bigger family with the bigger house. You can see that, can't you?" "What about Tigger?" was my only reply.

"You heard what Dawn's mother said. Tigger will be welcome." "But Mrs. Schafer doesn't like cats." "That's true. But no matter where we lived she'd have to put up with him. He's part of the package. He comes with our family." "Okay." Tigger stepped carefully into my room then, stepped delicately over to the bed, and jumped into my lap.

"How come Dawn knew we were moving before I did?" I asked. I felt a little calmer.

"That was my fault," Dad replied. "When Sharon and I made the decision that we would move into her house, we each agreed to tell our children separately. She must have told Dawn, and probably Jeff, right away. But I knew the news would be difficult for you so I put off telling you. Finally, I put it off for too long, I guess. But Dawn didn't know that." I could feel tears slipping down my cheeks. "I don't want to move," I whispered. "I grew up here. Claudia's always been across the street from me. Kristy used to live next door. I could look out my window and right into hers. When Kristy moved away and the Perkinses moved in, I showed Myriah how we could look in each other's windows. She'll miss that. And I'll be further away from Logan, further away from school, further away from everything - except Dawn's haunted secret passage." Dad smiled. "Mary Anne, that passage is not haunted. It's not even secret anymore, since we all know about it." I tried to smile, too. Then Dad folded me into his arms and gave me a big hug. I felt safe - but I still didn't want to move.

By the next day, I was relieved that Dad had been so nice about my outburst, but I was still angry. I barely spoke to Dawn in school. Lunchtime was especially tough. We had to pretend to act happy whenever one of our friends brought up the wedding or the business of becoming stepsisters. But neither of us said anything about my moving to Dawn's house.

And when Dawn whispered to me, "You know, my mother doesn't hate cats. She just doesn't like them much," I replied, "She does too hate them." That was the end of that conversation.