"Feel better?" asked my father.
"I'll feel completely normal as soon as you show me what's in that box in the bottom drawer of the desk." Dad didn't hesitate. He stood right up, strode to the desk, removed the box, took his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the box. He held it open in front of me.
It was full of money.
"Oh, my lord!" I cried. "What's that for?" "Emergencies," Mom told me. "There are five hundred dollars in that box. And nothing else. We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone that, though. We wouldn't want to be robbed. The money is there in case we ever need fast cash in the middle of the night." I slumped onto the couch. "I don't believe it," I said softly. "I feel so stupid. You must think I'm stupid." "Of course we don't," said Dad. "We think you're bright and sensitive and creative. And different." I smiled.
"And we like you just the way you are," added Mom. "We also know that thirteen is a difficult age. I guess you have an even tougher time than most kids, though - trying to keep up with a sister like Janine." "That's for sure." "Well, we want you to know," said Dad, "that in the future, we'll try to pay more attention to your feelings." "And 7 want you to know," I said, "that I'm really, really sorry I accused you of lying to me." Mom and Dad smiled. Then we hugged.
And then, of course, I had to go to my room to call Stacey.
Later, Mom found the pictures of Mimi. We compared pictures of Mimi at twelve to pictures of me at twelve.
We could have been twins.
That night, I slept with one of the pictures of Mimi under my pillow.
Chapter 15.
It was Friday, three days after I'd learned that I wasn't adopted after all. I was waiting for my friends to arrive for the day's BSC meeting. While I waited, I stared at the wall over my desk. Something new was hanging there. I'm always painting pictures or creating things to hang in my room, and I change them pretty often.
The new thing, though, wasn't one of my creations. Well, not really. What I had done was taken one of the pictures of twelve-year-old Mimi, and one of my seventh-grade school pictures, matted them, and framed them side by side in a single frame. I knew I would never take that down. It was something that would hang in my room until I went away to college (if I could get into any college), and then it would go with me so I could hang it over the desk in my dorm room.
I was so intent on gazing at the photos that I didn't hear Stacey come into my room.
"Oh, wow," she said softly, looking at the pictures. "That's you and Mimi, isn't it?" "Yes," I replied, trying not to let Stacey know that she'd just taken about ten years off my life by sneaking up on me.
"Well, I don't think there's any question that you're Mimi's granddaughter, do you?" "Nope. And if Mimi were alive, she probably would have found these pictures for me the very night I discovered the locked box, and then my search wouldn't have happened at all." "Probably," agreed Stacey. "I guess we just have to learn to get along without some of the people we love, though." (I knew she was thinking of her father and the divorce.) "Gee, this is a cheery conversation," I said.
Stacey laughed. Then she flopped onto my bed. "I am beat," she said. "All I did this afternoon was sit for Laura Perkins, and she slept most of the time. You'd think I just ran a marathon. Dawn's going to have to take the desk chair today, because I claim a place on the bed." I looked critically at Stacey. She was always tired these days. She was too thin, and half the time she didn't feel well. "Stacey - " I began, about to give her a lecture, but just then Kristy burst in.
"Hi, you guys!" she cried. She settled into the director's chair, put on her visor, and stuck a pencil over one ear.
During the next five minutes, Jessi showed up, then Mal, and finally Mary Anne and Dawn. All the BSC members were present.
Kristy called us to order. "Any club business?" she asked.
"I move that we have a snack," I said.
"I second the motion," added Mallory.
Kristy tried to frown, but couldn't. "Okay," she said. "Claud, pass around whatever you've got hidden in here, and then I have some news. Some dub news," she said pointedly.
I pulled a bag of mini-chocolate bars from under the quilt at the end of my bed, and a box of pretzels from behind my pillows. While my friends helped themselves, Kristy said, "Okay, here's all sorts of news. First, Mr. Papadakis - I mean, Hannie and Linny and Sari's grandfather - is leaving the nursing home tomorrow. He's over the pneumonia, and his hip is healing just fine." "That's great!" said Dawn and Mary Anne.
"Yeah!" agreed the rest of us.
"I know," said Kristy. "I have to admit I'm going to miss that regular job, though. The Papadakis kids are so nice. I really like them. You should have seen what they made their grandfather to welcome him back to his house." "What?" asked Jessi.
"A welcome-home card that's taller than Linny." "You're kidding!" cried Stacey.
Kristy shook her head. "Nope. They worked hard on it, too. Even Sari. Mrs. Papadakis had given them lots of materials - paper doilies, cotton balls, glitter, stars, you name it. Linny drew big letters that spell out 'WELCOME HOME, POPPY/ Hannie colored them in, and Sari glued stuff anywhere she felt like it. The card is actually sort of funny-looking. There are glue drippings even/where, things falling off the edges, and every time the kids pick the card up, glitter showers off of it. But they're really proud of their work." "That's kind of sweet," I said.
"Yup. Anyway, one good thing about the end of the job with the Papadakises is that now I'll have more time to spend with Emily. Which brings me to my next piece of news," said Kristy. "The teachers gave Mom and Watson the results of their reevaluation of Emily." I glanced around my bedroom. Every single one of us had leaned forward. On the floor, Jessi in her jeans and ballet leotard, and Mal in a new sweater dress, were leaning forward. On the bed, Stacey in a funky New York sweat shirt, Mary Anne in one of Dawn's baggy T-shirts, and I in a Day-Glo-striped top and skintight knit pants, were leaning forward. And on the desk chair, Dawn, wearing an outfit of Mary Anne's, had cocked her head toward Kristy. (She couldn't lean forward or the chair would have fallen over.) "The news," said Kristy, "is good." The six of us let out sighs of relief and relaxed a little.
"The teachers say Emily has made a lot of progress," Kristy began. "First of all, she's not so afraid of everything. She trusts people more. She knows that when she's left somewhere, or even just left alone in her room, someone will come back for her. She's still not crazy about thunderstorms or the dark, and she still cries out in the night sometimes, but she's better about both things." "What about school?" I asked, sounding like a nervous parent.
"The teachers are positive that Emily will be able to start preschool in the fall," Kristy answered. "That's fine with us. She'll be three then, which is the age Andrew and Karen started preschool. Also - " Ring, ring! "I'll get it," said Dawn. She picked up the phone. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club. Dawn Schafer speaking." (A pause.) "Oh, sure. I'll get right back to you. 'Bye." Dawn hung up, and we arranged for a sitter for the Delaneys, who live in Kristy's neighborhood. We had to call on our associate members, though, since the seven of us regular sitters were all busy that afternoon. Luckily, Shannon Kilbourne could take the job.
The phone rang a couple more times then, and we got busy with our calendar and schedules. Kristy was beaming. She just loves busy meetings.
The meeting finally settled down, though, and Kristy finished telling us about Emily. "One thing we'll have to do this summer is get her toilet-trained," she said. "But I think Emily will manage that. The best part, though, is that the teachers can't believe the progress Emily has made in terms of skills. You know, learning her colors and stuff. And that," she went on, "is due to you, Claud." I grinned. I felt so proud. I, Claudia Kishi, the not-so-hot eighth-grade student, was a teacher! A good one. I could teach kids things, and teach them so well that real teachers were impressed! "Remember how worried you were about Emily?" Jessi said to Kristy.
"Yeah." Kristy looked a little sheepish. "I guess I was more worried tha
n I needed to be. Mom and Watson and the doctor and the teachers kept saying Emily would be fine. I was afraid something was really wrong. Thank goodness everyone else was right. They knew what they were doing. Oh, you know what else the teachers said?" Kristy was looking at me.
"What?" I asked.
"That you should keep working with Emily. Mom wants to talk to you about that. You don't have to turn her into Super-Baby, but your tutoring sessions are good preparation for real school." "Wow! They really want me to work with her?" "Yup. I guess I could do it, or Nannie could.
But Mom says it's good for Emily to get close to people outside our family. Besides, you're doing a great job." "Thanks! I guess I ought to call your mom. We haven't set up Emily's next session. Do you think your mother's home from work yet?" Kristy looked at my clock. "I don't know. It depends. She might be. Try calling her, okay?" "Okay." I reached for the phone and dialed the Thomas/Brewer number.
After three rings, I heard a fumbling noise at the other end. There was a pause. Then a voice said cheerfully, "Heyyo!" Oh, my lord! Emily had answered the phone. "Emily? It's Claudia." "Hi, Ko-ee." "Hi!" I put my hand over the receiver. "You guys! You won't believe this. Emily answered the phone!" Kristy looked shocked. Then she grinned. "Let me talk to her." I handed her the phone. "Hi, Emily! It's me, Kristy." Kristy paused, smiling. Then she looked at the rest of us and announced, "Emily just said, 'Heyyo.' " Well, of course when that happened, everyone else wanted to talk to Emily on the phone. It wasn't until the last of us had gotten off that I said to Kristy, who was holding the receiver, "Do you think your mother's there? Someone must have helped Emily get to the phone, and I still need to talk to your mom to set up the next tutoring session." Kristy giggled. "I forgot about that." After asking Emily about five times if she could please talk to Mommy, she finally reached Nannie, who said that Kristy's mom wasn't home but that she'd call me that evening.
It was after six by then, so my friends left. I stayed in my bedroom. I sat at my desk and stared up at the photos of Mimi and me. "I can't believe I thought I was adopted," I said to Mimi's picture. "But you have to admit, the clues were there. And Emily Michelle and I do have a lot in common. But I am so, so, so glad I'm your real granddaughter. I mean, your family-related-blood kind of granddaughter. And I'm glad Mom and Dad are my birth parents. I'm even glad Janine is my natural sister. Really. I am." I stood up, turned off my light and walked down the hall to Janine's room. "Let's make dinner together tonight," I said to her. "We'll surprise Mom and Dad. It'll be fun." Janine looked at me in surprise. Then she said, "Okay." But first she had to save some material on her disks and switch off her computer. When that was done, she smiled at me. My sister and I went downstairs together.
About the Author ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Now her favorite baby-sitting charge is her cat, Mouse, who lives with her in her Manhattan apartment.
Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks are Bummer Summer, Inside Out, Stage Fright, Me and Katie (the Pest), and all the other books in the Babysitters Club series.
She is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College. She likes ice cream, the beach, and I Love Lucy; and she hates to cook.
Table of Contents
BSC033 - Claudia and the Great Search
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