The Secret Book Club

by Ann M. Martin

  “Maybe.”

  “Come on, don’t spoil it. She’s offering you a way to make things better.”

  “That’s true. Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go back to the general store.”

  In the store, Flora, who had exactly seven dollars and forty-two cents, walked up and down and up and down the aisles, scrutinizing small items, touching them, comparing. At last she selected a small wooden plaque in the shape of a house, the words HOME SWEET HOME carved into a banner that looped across the roof, and she paid the cashier for it.

  Later, as Min, Allie, and four weary girls were settling into the van to start the trip home, Flora handed the plaque to her aunt. “This is for you,” she said. “For your new house. Thank you for today.”

  Aunt Allie held Flora in her gaze. “You’re welcome,” she replied, and turned around to clasp Flora’s hand.

  The passengers in the van were quiet on the ride back to Camden Falls, and Nikki was starting to doze, her head lolling against the window, when Ruby said wistfully, “I’m going to miss our Saturday adventures.”

  Nikki opened her eyes and murmured, “Who says they have to end? Let’s have them all fall.”

  “Town is busy today,” Mrs. Edwards said to Robby as they walked along Main Street one morning.

  “Mr. Walter said if the weather holds up, the last week in August will be very busy,” Robby replied. “That is exactly what he said. ‘If the weather holds up.’” He paused. “Does that mean if we have nice weather?”

  “It does,” said his mother. “And I guess he was right, since today is lovely —”

  “And all the stores look busy,” said Robby as they passed Needle and Thread.

  “Ready for work?”

  “Yes,” Robby replied seriously. He had not forgotten about his bad day. The memory had faded, but it wasn’t gone. And every time he remembered the glass ornament — the very expensive glass ornament — he noticed an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach.

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you this afternoon.” Mrs. Edwards took her son’s hand and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

  “Mom!” Robby cried, and pulled away from her. “Please! Not here. I’m a professional now.” He shook his mother’s hand and entered Sincerely Yours.

  The store was already crowded. Robby checked the coffeepot, which was empty, put his things away, and called, “Hi, Mrs. Walter! Hi, Mr. Walter! I’ll make the coffee now!”

  His voice was loud, and several customers turned to look at him, but Robby concentrated on his job. When the coffee was brewing, he walked up and down the aisles, straightening the merchandise. “We’re all out of lavender soap!” he yelled to Mr. Walter.

  Robby reached the aisle containing the more fragile items. He glanced at the picture frames and decided not to straighten them. Then he glanced at the ornaments, felt the pang in his stomach, and gave them a wide berth. He wondered how long the sight of the ornaments would make him feel this way. Would that one bad day remain with him forever?

  The morning passed quickly. The door to Sincerely Yours opened and closed, opened and closed. Customers asked for help. Mrs. Walter brought tray after tray of chocolates to the counter at the front of the store. Robby answered questions and helped at the cash register and avoided the glass ornaments.

  At lunchtime, the store grew quiet briefly, and Mr. Walter sat down and said, “Oh, my aching feet.”

  The lull didn’t last long. By one-thirty, the store was crowded again. Robby was helping a woman (a friend of Min’s, he thought) select items to put in a birthday basket when he heard a shout.

  No, not a shout, he realized. A scream. An actual scream like on television programs.

  Startled, Robby turned around. Maybe someone had broken something. His eyes strayed to the picture frames, but no shards of glass glittered on the floor.

  A second scream made Robby put his hands to his ears. He saw that the awful sound was coming from a young woman standing by the cash register. “My baby is gone!” she cried.

  In seconds, a crowd had gathered around her.

  “Try to calm down,” said Mrs. Walter, emerging from the back of the store. “Tell us what happened. Your baby is gone?”

  “My — my little girl,” the woman replied. “Kirsten. She’s four years old. She was right next to me and then I turned around and she was gone. She’s nowhere in sight. I’ve looked everywhere! Oh, where is she?”

  “I’m sure she’s still here somewhere,” said Mr. Walter calmly. “There are lots of good hiding places in the store. What does Kirsten look like?”

  “She has brown hair and brown eyes and she’s wearing red shorts and a white T-shirt. It says Camp Seewackamano on the back of the shirt.” The woman began to cry again.

  “Come with me,” said Mrs. Walter, taking her hand. “Let’s search the back of the store. Maybe Kirsten wanted to see what was in the kitchen.”

  “Robby, help me look out here in front,” said Mr. Walter.

  “Roger,” said Robby. He got down on his hands and knees and peered under things and behind things, and then he remembered the stockroom and searched it thoroughly.

  “I don’t see her,” he said a few minutes later.

  “She’s not in the back,” said Mrs. Walter.

  Mr. Walter and Mrs. Walter and Robby and the crying woman, whose name turned out to be Marcia Perrone, all looked at one another. They were surrounded by silent customers, who were also looking at them.

  “I think it’s time to call the police,” said Mr. Walter grimly, and he reached for the phone.

  “Oh, no!” said Mrs. Perrone, and she let out a sob, which Robby thought was strange because aren’t the police supposed to help?

  Suddenly it seemed to Robby that everyone in the store was talking at once, and very loudly.

  “I’ll look outside.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I hope she has a picture of Kirsten with her. She’ll need to give it to the police.”

  “Where’s the police station? How long will it take them to get here?”

  Robby put his hands over his ears again. This was terrible. Everything was too, too loud. He paused. Maybe all the noise was why Kirsten had left Sincerely Yours. Maybe she didn’t like noise and confusion and crowded stores.

  Robby glanced at the Walters, who were hovering around Mrs. Perrone, telling her to sit down and offering her a glass of water. Then he slipped out the door and stood on the sidewalk. He drew in a deep breath, let it out, drew in another. He looked up and down Main Street and thought how much he liked the sight of the trees, leafy and elegant, and the little stores with their cheerful windows. Bud’s hot dog cart was parked in front of the Gourmet Shop, and Robby noticed a new blue-and-white-striped umbrella over the cart.

  The sight of Main Street, sparkling in the sun, made Robby think of Main Street USA at Disney World. And that made him remember the time he got lost when he and his parents were on vacation there.

  Robby closed his eyes. Lost. He had gotten lost at Disney World. Just like Kirsten was lost now. What had he done then? He cast his mind back eight years. Robby could feel the panic now that he had felt as a ten-year-old when he had turned around in a store and realized he didn’t see either of his parents. He saw lots of other parents and lots of other kids and rows of T-shirts and pens and princess dresses and mouse ears and candy and sunglasses. And then he was aware of the noise. Kids were shouting and kids were crying and a dad was laughing and the cash registers were pinging and someone was talking so loudly on a cell phone and then someone dropped something with a CRASH and suddenly all Robby had wanted was to get away from the noise, noise, noise. So he had put his hands over his ears and run to another store that was much quieter, and soon his parents found him.

  Robby opened his eyes. If he were Kirsten, he would look for a place that was peaceful. What was nearby that was peaceful? Across the street was Time and Again, the bookstore. That was always peaceful. But Robby had a feeling that Kirsten hadn’
t tried to cross the street. He looked to his left and looked to his right and saw that fewer people were to his right. So he walked in that direction, past the grocery store, and found that he was standing in front of the Fongs’ studio and gallery.

  Ah-ha, thought Robby. This was probably the most peaceful place on all of Main Street. The gallery on the ground floor was large, with high ceilings and sculptures on pedestals and nice paintings on the walls (some of them were pictures of just colors, not objects, and Robby liked those quite a bit), and soft, soothing music was always playing. Robby had not figured out where it came from; it seemed to float in the air.

  Robby opened the door, stepped into the gallery, saw Mr. Fong talking with a customer in the back — and in the middle of the room next to a sculpture of a horse stood a small brown-haired girl wearing red shorts and a white T-shirt. Robby hurried to her, and then just to be sure she was Kirsten, he stepped around behind her and saw that written in an arc across the back of her shirt were the words CAMP SEEWACKAMANO.

  Robby stepped around to her front again and said, “Are you lost?” The girl nodded and Robby realized she’d been crying. “Is your name Kirsten?” he asked.

  Kirsten nodded.

  “I know where your mother is,” said Robby. “I can take you to her.” He held out his hand.

  But Kirsten shook her head. “I’m not allowed to go with strangers,” she replied.

  Robby knew that rule, all right, but it wasn’t very helpful just now. Still, a rule was a rule. “Okay,” said Robby. Then he hurried to Mr. Fong and said in a rush, “Mr. Fong, that little girl” (he pointed to Kirsten) “is lost and her mother is at Sincerely Yours and the police are coming and she won’t go with a stranger, so I’m going to bring her mother back here.”

  Mr. Fong frowned. “What?” he said, but Robby was already running out the door. He sprinted to Sincerely Yours, shouted, “Mrs. Perrone, I found your baby but she won’t go with a stranger so I left her with Mr. Fong. Just follow me and you can get her back!”

  Mrs. Perrone wasn’t the only one who followed Robby to the gallery. A crowd of people came rushing along after them — Mrs. Walter and quite a few customers and a police officer and Robby wasn’t sure who else. When Mrs. Perrone saw Kirsten, she grabbed her and hugged her and cried and laughed and scolded her all at the same time.

  Mrs. Walter turned to Robby then and said, “You’re a hero!” and someone snapped his picture and later it appeared in the newspaper and Robby decided this had been the best day of his whole life.

  Parties, Olivia thought, were so much more fun and easier to plan when you were little. A birthday party, for instance, involved musical chairs, pin the tail on the donkey, a scavenger hunt, goody bags all around, a pile of presents to open, and pizza and cake and ice cream. Period, the end. Olivia still thought this was the best kind of party and wished, in fact, that the party she was giving — this very afternoon — could be just that (even though it wasn’t her birthday).

  But, thought Olivia with a sigh, she was going into seventh grade and parties were different now. Of course, she might have a better idea of just what went on at a seventh-grade party if she had been invited to Tanya’s. But she hadn’t. She’d been crossed off the list (or so she assumed).

  And yet, here she was, getting ready to give a party to which she’d invited not only Tanya (the list-crosser-offer) but everyone else who’d been at Tanya’s party. Olivia thought over the events of the summer — the humiliation of not receiving an invitation even though Nikki and Flora had been invited (and everyone knew that the three of them were best friends), her plans for Brave Saturday, dropping her invitations in the mailbox so that there was no going back, and then waiting to see if anyone (other than Nikki, Ruby, and Flora) would RSVP. And now it was the last Saturday of August, which was also the last Saturday of summer vacation — school would start in three days — and Olivia’s party was to take place in the afternoon.

  She still had not heard from Tanya.

  Everyone else was coming, but Tanya was a question mark.

  Olivia sat on her bed that morning and looked out onto the familiar sight of Aiken Avenue, a view she had seen nearly every day of her life. There was Mr. Pennington’s tidy front yard, there was the rosebush in Min’s yard, there was the oak tree, the lamppost, the fire hydrant. Olivia wished she could spend the rest of summer vacation sitting in her safe, familiar room. She didn’t want to give a party, not this party, anyway. But everything had been set in motion.

  Olivia reached for the phone and dialed Flora.

  “Hi!” said Flora. “Are you excited about today?”

  “No.”

  “Really? You’re not? You’re just nervous?”

  “Yeah. And I want it to be over with. But I also want it to go well.”

  “It will. It’ll go well.”

  “How do you know? This isn’t the kind of party Tanya would give. And why didn’t Tanya ever reply to the invitation, anyway?”

  Flora sighed. “Olivia, I don’t know.”

  “Everyone else replied. And now Melody and all those friends of Tanya’s, the ones who tease me and are jealous of my grades, are going to be there. Oh, why did I decide to have a party?”

  “Because of Brave Saturday,” Flora replied. “This is a very brave thing you’re doing, Olivia. Just like all the brave characters we read about this summer.”

  “I guess. But that doesn’t mean the party is going to go well. It could be a big, giant disaster, and I —”

  “Olivia, back up. Why did you want to give the party in the first place?”

  “To — I guess to kind of remind the other girls that I’m — that I’m here. And I’m a nice person. And to point out that maybe we could all be friends.”

  “Okay. Well, I think the party is going to do every one of those things. Besides, you came up with a great idea: Who else do you know who could have a party in her family’s own store?”

  “You,” said Olivia.

  “Okay, that’s true. But a party at Sincerely Yours is going to be so cool.”

  “Are you sure? It’s not the same as a pool party and barbecue. And I like my idea, but that doesn’t mean anyone else will.”

  “Are you kidding? The guests get to put together their own gift baskets. Your mom and dad said they can take anything they want from the store.”

  “Within reason. I think there’s going to be a limit. They can’t choose something that costs a hundred dollars. But most of the stuff’s not expensive anyway.”

  “See? That’s great! They’ll love it. It’ll be just like the time Maura had her birthday party in that place where you make your own pottery.”

  “I guess.”

  “Olivia! Quit worrying, or the party really won’t go well. Now, come on. What time are Ruby and I supposed to be at the store?”

  “Mom and Dad are going to close it at four this afternoon. You guys and Nikki come at four-thirty, okay? Everyone else is coming at five.”

  “I’ll see you at four-thirty.”

  “Well?” Olivia said to her friends as they looked around Sincerely Yours that afternoon. “What do you think?”

  “It’s … it’s beautiful!” exclaimed Nikki. “Really wonderful. It’s all glittery.”

  Olivia and her father had strung tiny white lights on the shelves and the candy counter and around the door and the window. In the front of the store a table had been set out and on it were trays of chocolates and brownies and cookies made by Mrs. Walter.

  “We’ll order pizzas later,” said Olivia. “So … first we’ll just talk and stuff and have snacks, then everyone can make the gift baskets, and after that we’ll get pizzas. Is that enough for a party? I mean, enough to do? I know it isn’t like Tanya’s —”

  “Olivia,” said Nikki, “it’s plenty, really.” She gave her friend a hug.

  “Do you have stage fright, Olivia?” asked Ruby.

  “I guess. A little. What do you do when you have stage fright?”

&nb
sp; “Yoga.”

  “Oh. I guess there isn’t time for that.”

  “Nope,” said Ruby, “because the first person is here.”

  Olivia let out a shriek and looked toward the door.

  “It’s Melody,” said Nikki in a low voice.

  “And Tanya’s with her!” exclaimed Olivia. “So. She’s just a rude person who doesn’t RSVP.”

  “Olivia — get over it,” whispered Flora.

  Olivia, an awful, heavy feeling in her stomach, opened the door to Sincerely Yours. “Hi,” she said. “Come on in.”

  Melody and Tanya, arm in arm, entered the store. “Hi, Flora! Hi, Nikki!” they chorused as they stepped around Olivia.

  Olivia felt like a dead fish on a beach, pairs of bare feet carefully avoiding her.

  Her mother stepped forward. “Girls, I’m Mrs. Walter, and this is Mr. Walter. And surely you know Olivia,” she added pointedly.

  Olivia was pleased to see Tanya flush slightly. “Hi,” said Tanya.

  “Um, well,” Olivia began, “help yourselves.” She indicated the trays of treats. “My mom made all these things.”

  “Cool,” said Melody.

  The door opened again and in came Claudette Tisch and Mary Louise Detwiler. “Hi, Olivia! Thank you for inviting us!”

  The heaviness in Olivia’s stomach began to lighten. Sophie Pearson arrived, and then two girls from Mrs. Annich’s class. And before Olivia knew it, Sincerely Yours was filled with kids who were laughing and talking and calling to one another. And Olivia was among them. Claudette asked Olivia what she had done over the summer, and Olivia told her about the secret book club.

  “Wow,” said Claudette. “You are so lucky.”

  Melody pulled Olivia aside and said, “This is your family’s store?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ve been in here before, but I didn’t know it was yours.”

  “We’re all going to make our own gift baskets in a few minutes,” Olivia told her proudly, and was gratified to see Melody’s eyes widen.

  “Really?” said Melody.