Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 028

I heard some funny sounds. First a muffled one that was probably Claud putting her hand over the receiver, then some scufflings and murmurings that were probably Claudia and Kristy arguing over whether to allow a personal call during a meeting. Claudia won quickly.

"Hi, Stace," she said, a bit breathlessly. "Okay, go ahead. What's wrong?" "Well," I began, "it's - it's my parents." This was hard to talk about over the phone. I wished my friends were right there with me.

"Your parents?" Claudia repeated. "Is one of them sick or something?" "Oh, no. Nothing like that." (I knew Claud was thinking of Mimi, the hospital, and the funeral.) "It's just that they fight so much. And the fights are getting bigger. Today I came home and Dad was already there and I stood out in the hallway and listened to them yell at each other. They were yelling awful things, Claud." "What kinds of things?" she whispered.

I told her about the jewelry bills and Mom calling Dad a workaholic and everything else I could remember.

"Gosh," said Claudia when I'd finished. "That sounds serious." "I know," I replied. I could feel the tears starting again, but I don't like to cry over the phone, so I put a stop to them.

"I'm not sure what to say," Claud went on. "My parents have never had a fight like that. They always just try to discuss things. You know what? Maybe you should talk to Dawn.

Her parents fought a lot before she left California. Nobody else's parents have big problems." Claudia paused. "What?" she said to somebody in the background. Then, "Oh." She got back on the phone. "Kristy says to tell you that when her real father was living with them the Thomases fought an awful lot, but Kristy was too little to remember much of it. Here, let me put Dawn on." There were more scufflings and murmurings in the background, and I pictured Kristy looking at Claud's clock and tapping her fingers on the arm of the director's chair I was sure she was sitting in. (She always sits in the director's chair, wearing a visor.) But after just a moment, Dawn was on the phone.

"Hi, Stace," she said. "I'm really sorry you're having some problems." "Thanks," I replied, "but it's my parents, not me." "When they make you feel bad, it's your problem, too. Believe me, I know. So what's going on?" "What isn't?" I answered bitterly. I wanted to tell Dawn everything, but suddenly I just couldn't. That mental picture of an impatient Kristy kept creeping into my mind. Plus, I felt funny telling Dawn my parents' business. In fact, I felt pretty funny knowing that the entire club already knew my business. I wanted their comfort and support - but I didn't necessarily want to turn myself inside out for it. Maybe calling during a meeting hadn't been such a good idea after all.

I cleared my throat. "Well, Mom and Dad are just fighting all the time," I told Dawn. "Over everything." "Money and stuff?" "Yeah," I said.

"Their relationship?" "Yeah." "You?" "Yeah." "Oh, that's a bad sign." Okay, enough of this. I changed the subject immediately. "So how's Jeff?" "Jeff? My brother?" "Who else?" We giggled. Maybe the conversation had been getting too heavy for both of us.

"He's fine," said Dawn. "Mom and Dad let us call each other whenever we want, but it's hard because of the time difference. I can't call too early in the morning because then it's really early in California, and Jeff can't call after eight at night because it's after eleven here. Still, he's back in California with Dad, which is great for him. . . . What?" (Another conversation with someone at the meeting.) Then, "Stace? Mary Anne wants to say hello, okay?" "Sure." I turned to Laine while I waited for Mary Anne, and said, "I'll pay you back every penny of this call. I promise." Laine smiled. "No problem," she said.

"Stacey?" I heard an excited voice in my ear. It was Mary Anne's, and it occurred to me that the last time I'd spoken to any of my Stoneybrook friends, except for Claudia, had been on the day of Mimi's funeral. I wished we could talk or get together under ordinary circumstances.

"Hi, Mary Anne!" I tried to liven up a bit.

"You want to talk?" she asked gently.

"Yes," I replied, "but not about Mom and Dad anymore." "Okay." (This is one thing I love about Mary Anne. She doesn't press issues, and she respects people's wishes.) "So how's Logan?" I asked.

"Oh, he's fine. Or, as Logan would say, he's 'fan.' " We laughed. Logan is from Louisville, Kentucky, and has this neat southern accent.

"And Tigger?" "He's fine, too. He caught a mouse yesterday." "In your house?" I asked, aghast. Sometimes roaches get into our apartment, but I've never seen anything with a tail.

"No! Outdoors. The mouse was outdoors. Although Tigger brought it inside and dropped it in his food dish." "You're kidding!" "Nope. It was so disgusting. Oh, wait. Kristy wants to say hello." I looked at my watch. It was six o'clock. I'd wasted the rest of their meeting. Oh, well. Kristy couldn't be too mad if she still wanted to say hi to me.

"Stace?" said Kristy's voice.

"Hi. Sorry about tying up the club phone." "Oh, that's all right. How are you doing?" "Okay, I guess. How are the Krushers?" Kristy coaches a softball team for little kids in Stoneybrook. The team is called Kristy's Krushers.

"Not bad, considering. We get closer and closer to beating Bart's Bashers." "How's our walking disaster?" "Jackie Rodowsky? Just the same. I baby-sat for him last week and he rode his bike right into the garage wall, skinned his knees, broke a flowerpot, and later dropped a pizza on the floor. At least he didn't drop it on a rug." "Poor kid," I said, but I couldn't help laughing a little.

"I know," answered Kristy. "Listen, Jessi and Mal both want to say hi and then we'll have to go. Well, except for Claudia. If s after six." "Okay," I replied. So I talked to Jessi and asked about her dancing, and about Becca and Squirt. "Hey, how's Charlotte?" I wanted to know. Charlotte Johanssen is Becca Ramsey's best friend, and my favorite Stoneybrook kid to sit for. She's eight years old, and she's shy and creative, just like Grace and Henry. Sometimes I really miss her.

"Charlotte just got over tonsillitis, but - " "Tonsillitis! Is she going to have her tonsils out?" "Nope. Not yet anyway. Don't worry. She's fine now. She and Becca dressed up like grown-ups yesterday and spent the afternoon playing office. It looked horribly boring, but they kept it up for hours. . . . Oh, here's Mal. 'Bye, Stacey." " 'Bye, Jessi. ... Hi, Mal." "Hi, Stacey. Guess what. Claire was asking about you the other day." "Claire was?" (Claire is the youngest kid in Mal's family. I got to know all the Pikes pretty well when I went on two vacations with them as a mother's helper.) "What did she say?" "She said, 'I miss Stacey-silly-billy-goo-goo.' " Mal and I both laughed. And at that moment, I missed Claire and my Stoneybrook friends a lot. But I knew it was time to get off the phone. The BSC meeting was over, and if I didn't get home by six-thirty my parents would probably call the police.

I had to hang up the phone. I couldn't put it off any longer. The only good thing about leaving Laine's apartment was that no one yelled, "Have fun and be careful!" as I walked out the door, which is what my mother used to do every single time she let me out of her sight in New York.

There was just Laine saying, "I know things will be okay." And on the way home I managed to convince myself that Laine was right and that I was being melodramatic.

Chapter 5.

As right as I hoped Laine was, I still approached my apartment apprehensively. At least I managed to be civil to James and the guys at the desk.

"Hi, James," I said. "Hi, Isaac. Hi, Lloyd." The three of them looked relieved to find me acting normal again.

I rang for the elevator. It crashed to the ground floor, the doors jarred themselves open, I pressed the button for the 12th floor, the doors closed with a bang, and up I flew. When I was little, I used to jump around on the elevator while it was moving, which made my body feel heavier or lighter (depending on whether I was going up or down). Then Laine told me that jumping could make the cable break and the elevator crash, so I stopped, even though I think she made that up.