Kristy and the Dirty Diapers
Page 9
I glared at him.
“At least I’m not a klutz like you!” Hannie snapped.
“No, you’re just ugly,” David Michael retorted.
“Yeah, well, the baseball is your head! Watch me hit it.”
“I’m reeeeally worried.”
“Guys, you’re teammates,” I reminded them.
But Hannie was fuming. She gritted her teeth. The pitcher tossed the ball. She swung.
David Michael’s head went sailing into short center field.
Hannie dug in. She ran around first. She ran around second. She ran around third.
The Bashers were throwing the ball all over the place — to everywhere Hannie had just been.
“Throw it home! Throw it home!” Bart shouted.
The ball bounded toward home plate. The catcher crouched. Hannie flew toward him.
“Out of my way!” she commanded.
The catcher flinched. The ball bounced into his glove — and back out.
Hannie barreled home.
The cheerleaders screamed. Forget about a victory song. The band just started honking and squawking and banging. Parents and sitters were yelling. Players hugged each other and jumped up and down.
Abby and I were practically crying, we were so happy.
We had done it. We had won the championship all by ourselves.
Who needed Diapers, anyway?
After the game, Watson and Mom gave a small neighborhood party. Linny and Hannie came to it, and so did Karen, Andrew, Abby, Anna, Shannon Kilbourne, and the members of the Krusher Quartet. Even Bart showed up (I told you he was a good sport).
While we were munching away and talking, Abby banged on a glass to silence everyone.
“I would like to toast Kristy Thomas,” she said, “who knows when it’s time to be out of diapers!”
“Here, here!” Watson said.
Everyone cheered. Except Emily Michelle. She just looked at Nannie and said, “Kristy? Di-pee?”
It was a fantastic party. But I felt a little sad. I wished the season could start right up again.
At the end of the party, Druscilla walked over to me with a grave expression. “Kristy,” she said. “Um, I hope you’re not mad at me….”
Uh-oh.
“What, Dru?”
“Well, our group decided we want to keep playing together,” she said. “But now that the games are over, we can’t be the Krusher Quartet anymore. It doesn’t make sense. So we’re Druscilla and the Dynamos. Is that okay?”
“Dru,” I said, “I think I can deal with it.”
She left the house happily chattering away with Scott, Moon, and Sheila about future plans.
Seeing that, I think, was my favorite part of the party.
“Order!” I called out. “Okay, sit down! I have new business!”
I could barely contain myself.
The idea had struck me after the party. I could not believe I hadn’t thought of it before.
“Guys, our problems are solved,” I said. “I propose, for our new members, Abby and Anna Stevenson!”
(What did I tell you? Was that perfect or what?)
I didn’t wait for a response. “They are both very responsible,” I continued. “Anna has been giving flute lessons to Druscilla, and Abby has been a terrific assistant coach for the Krushers. And they love kids. That’s obvious. Plus we know them and we like them. I say they’re in.”
“Uh, could you stop beating around the bush, Kristy?” Claudia asked. “How do you feel about them?”
“Ha-ha,” I said. “I hereby move we ask them to join.”
“Hallelujah,” Shannon said. “The girl has come to her senses. I thought you’d never find another member.”
“Do you think we really need two, though?” Claudia asked.
“Oh, yes, absolutely,” Shannon said quickly. “I second the motion.”
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Stacey cut in. “What about Abby’s asthma? What if she had an attack while sitting?”
Mary Anne nodded. “It wouldn’t be safe, Kristy.”
“What if you have an insulin reaction, Stacey?” I asked.
“That’s why I carry raisins with me, and packets of honey,” Stacey replied.
“And Abby takes an inhaler wherever she goes,” I explained. “I already asked her.”
Now even Mary Anne and Stacey looked satisfied. “Okay, all in favor?” I asked.
Mary Anne’s, Stacey’s, Shannon’s, Claudia’s, and my hands shot up.
“What about you guys?” I asked Jessi and Mal.
“Well,” Jessi said tentatively, “we don’t really know the twins.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “I’ll invite them to the next meeting.”
* * *
Two days later, just before 5:15 P.M., Charlie drove the twins and me to Claud’s house. (I had called the meeting fifteen minutes early, so we could all get acquainted.) By the way, Abby and Anna did not complain about the car (Charlie’s beloved old wreck), which was a very good sign.
I hadn’t told them exactly why they were invited. I just hinted it would be a good way to get to know the BSC members.
When we walked into Claud’s room, everyone was already there.
How did the meeting go? It was as if the Stevenson twins had been members from the beginning. Abby sat on Claud’s bed. Anna sat cross-legged near Jessi. (I could hear those two talking on and on about Stravinsky music, or something equally exciting.)
At one point I crouched beside Jessi and Mal. Anna was now talking to Stacey, and Abby to Mary Anne.
“So?” I said. “Is it unanimous?”
With big grins, they gave me thumbs-up signs.
I called the meeting to order at five-thirty.
“For our first order of business,” I announced, “as founder and president of the Baby-sitters Club, I hereby extend an official offer of membership to Abby and Anna Stevenson.”
As quickly as I could, I explained the rules, meeting times, and operating procedures. I told them they’d be alternate officers, which meant they’d be stand-ins whenever another officer was absent. I was dying to hear their responses.
The sisters glanced at each other. Next to them, Claudia was beaming. Mary Anne had tears in her eyes. (To tell you the truth, I’d been a little concerned about Mary Anne. I mean, Abby and Anna were replacing her sister. And you know how sensitive Mary Anne is.)
“Well — I — wow,” Abby stammered. “That’s so nice of you.” She shrugged. “Sure! I guess. Thank you!”
Abby Stevenson at a loss for words? I thought I’d never see the day.
Anna sighed. “Well, I’m really happy you asked,” she said. “And I do like baby-sitting, pretty much. But I have to say no.”
No?
“Are you serious?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think.
“The thing is,” Anna replied, “I’ll be really busy after school. I have violin lessons and orchestra rehearsals, and there’s this competition I need to prepare for in November. Besides, I like to have a couple of hours to practice before dinner on school days. And that’s when you guys meet.” She shrugged. “Sorry. But thanks.”
I don’t think any of us had expected that response. I know I hadn’t. I guess I figured no one would turn down such an offer.
“Well, okay,” I finally said. “We understand. And if you change your mind, the offer will still be open.”
Anna nodded.
Abby? She looked like a Christmas tree.
“Two, four, six, eight!” I shouted.
“Who do we appreciate?” the other BSC members joined in. “Abby! Abby! Yaaaaay!”
We burst into applause. Well, all except Mary Anne. She was the very first one to give Abby a hug. “Welcome to the Baby-sitters Club,” she said softly.
* * *
We had the best meeting that day. Abby went through a blow-by-blow description of our argument with Mr. Davis, playing all the roles. I was laughing so hard, I thought I’d toss my coo
kies.
That evening, our family had the Stevensons, Mrs. Porter, and Dru over for dinner. Anna and Dru played a piano-flute duet for us (fortunately, they kept it short).
I loved having new friends in the neighborhood. And I cannot tell you how good I felt two days later, when I sat in my director’s chair in Claudia’s room, for our Friday BSC meeting. Just the right number of people were sitting in the right places. Except now I saw a mass of dark curls where Dawn’s white-blond hair used to be.
Claudia’s clock clicked to 5:30.
“Harrumph,” I said. “I call this meeting of the Baby-sitters Club to order with an official welcome to our newest member, Abby Stevenson!”
“Yaaay!” the others shouted.
Abby cleared her throat. She looked a little embarrassed. “And I hereby, um, officially wish to express my gratefulishness to the members —”
Rrrrrrring!
Formalities were over. It was time to put Abby to work.
* * *
Dear reader:
Kristy and the Dirty Diapers is the first book in which Abby Stevenson, the new member of the Baby-sitters Club, and her twin, Anna, appear. When we decided to fill Dawn’s spot in the club with a new character, we also decided to let our readers name the character. Over the years we’ve received many letters from kids suggesting new characters, or names for new characters. So my editors agreed to run a contest to name the new character. Because it takes a year or more to make a book, and because we were already writing about the new character, we had to call her something until the contest was over. So guess what — we called her Lucy Ricardo (after my favorite TV character) and we named her twin Ethel (after Lucy Ricardo’s best friend). I wrote ten manuscripts using the names Lucy and Ethel Ricardo before the contest was over. We had to go back through all those manuscripts before they could be published and change every Lucy and Ethel to Abby and Anna! It was a lot of work, but running the contest was a lot of fun, too. Welcome to the series, Abby and Anna!
Happy reading,
* * *
The author gratefully acknowledges
Peter Lerangis
for his help in
preparing this manuscript.
About the Author
ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.
There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.
Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.
Copyright © 1995 by Ann M. Martin
Cover art by Hodges Soileau
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, September 1995
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-79180-9