Baby-Sitters Club 094

by Ann M. Martin

  At the same time, a boy and a girl Dana's age approached from the opposite direction. "Hi, Mandy. Hi, Dana," the girl called with a wave of her bright red mittens.

  The boy waved, too, and soon the four of them were talking in the front yard while the two smaller kids chased one another in a circle off to the side of the house.

  They didn't seem to need me for entertainment. I stood for a moment and enjoyed the beauty of the falling snow. Then I spied a snow shovel leaning against the house.

  The snow must have put me in a good mood. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was Friday. But I decided it would be nice for Mrs. Cheplin to come home to a shoveled walk and driveway. (Or maybe I was just showing off a bit. You know, being Stacey McGill, Super Sitter.) I was shoveling away when the first snowball flew past me. "Sorry!" Mandy called from the yard when I looked around to see what was happening. Mandy and the two other kids were having fun throwing snowballs at one another. The only one who wasn't smiling was Dana, who stood frowning, her arms folded.

  "Let's do something else," I heard her say. "Let's build a snowman." "No, let's have snowball teams," the boy said. "You and Mandy against Ellen and me." "Yeah! Come on, Dana," said Mandy. "We can get them good." I checked on Adam and Moira, then went back to my shoveling. The snow was falling so fast now that the walk was filling in almost as fast as I could shovel it out. Oh, well, I thought. This makes it a little easier for Mrs. Cheplin to shovel.

  I'd shoveled almost to the front door when I noticed Dana coming toward me looking very unhappy. "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "I don't feel good," she replied. "I'm weak and sort of dizzy." "Did you cheat on sweets today?" I asked.

  She shook her head.

  "You have to tell me the truth," I insisted. "It's really important. No kidding." "I didn't. Honest." "I'd better check your blood again to be safe," I said, resting my shovel against the house. I turned toward Adam and told him not to leave the yard.

  "We'll watch him," Mandy called to me.

  Dana and I went inside and tested her blood. "Normal," I reported. I felt her forehead. "No fever, either." Dana slumped onto the living room love-seat. "I don't want to play outside anymore," she mumbled. "I want to rest." "You should rest," I agreed.

  I called Adam in. I didn't want to leave him out there unsupervised for too long. With a long, disappointed face, he said good-bye to Moira and joined me at the front door.

  Moira ran to Mandy, who had waited in the yard. "Is Dana all right?" Mandy asked, coming toward me.

  "I'm not sure. I think she should rest, though," I replied.

  "We should have built a snowman like she wanted," Mandy said apologetically. "I keep forgetting how sick she is." "Don't worry. You didn't do anything wrong," I assured her. As I spoke the words, I began to wonder about something. Was Dana using her diabetes as a means of getting her own way? Were the guilty feelings Mandy was experiencing exactly the feelings Dana wanted her to have? I remembered how instantly Dana had recovered on Monday once the argument was over. Would the same thing happen today?

  "Tell Dana I hope she feels better," Mandy said as she and Moira left the yard.

  Just as I suspected, when Adam and I went back inside Dana looked a lot better. In fact within half an hour she wanted us to watch her do a cartwheel she'd learned that day in gym class.

  I wondered if I should talk to Mrs. Cheplin about what I thought Dana was up to. It was a bad direction for her to be going in. Not only was it unfair to her friends, but it was bad for Dana. If she believed she could manipulate people, she might use her illness as an excuse to duck out on anything challenging.

  Truthfully, though, I couldn't picture myself having that conversation with Mrs. Cheplin. We'd just met and, so far, I didn't feel all that comfortable around her. Every evening she came home and looked around the house as if she were sure I'd messed up in some way. I could tell she didn't completely trust me yet.

  Instead, I decided to drop a big hint directly to Dana. When Adam went to his room to get a book I saw my chance to talk alone with Dana.

  "Wow!" I said, sitting next to Dana on the living room floor. "This has been some busy week for me. I didn't think I could get everything done that I had to do, but I did it." "That's good," she said as she got to her knees and switched on the TV.

  "I used to worry that my diabetes would stop me from doing things I wanted to do, but it hasn't. This busy week sure proves that." Dana studied me. "Don't you get more tired than other kids?" she asked.

  "Not if I take care of myself." I checked the clock on the wall. It was five-twenty. "Gee, I hope this snow doesn't make your mother late getting home. I have to go to my Baby-sitters Club meeting. Kristy, our president, gets really annoyed if we're late. Of course, I've been coming late because I'm sitting with you and Adam, but I can tell Kristy isn't happy with it. The sooner I get there the better." "She sounds mean," Dana said.

  "Oh, no, she's not." "She should understand that you're sick and you shouldn't be rushing around." I looked Dana squarely in the face to be sure she'd understand what I was about to tell her. "I wouldn't want to be treated differently from everyone else because I'm sick." "Why not?" I had to think about that for a moment. "Because it wouldn't be fair to ask for special treatment." "Why not? You're sick." "But the kind of sickness we have doesn't stop us from doing anything so it's not fair to ask to be treated differently." Dana didn't look pleased. She turned away from me and started watching TV. I wondered if anything I said would make a difference. Somehow, I didn't think so.

  Adam came into the room and wanted me to read a book called Backward Bunny to him. It was a short book and just as I was finishing, Mrs. Cheplin came in, stomping snow from her boots. "Thanks for shoveling, Stacey," she said. "I can see you made a path." "You're welcome," I replied.

  Adam jumped up to greet his mother. "Mom! Mom! We played in the snow. It was great. I played with Moira. But Dana spoiled it with her sickness." Alarm spread across Mrs. Cheplin's face. "Dana's sick?" "She seems fine now. And her blood sugar is okay. I tested it," I told her.

  Mrs. Cheplin scowled. "I'd better call Doctor Hernandez. This is worrying me." This was my chance to say something, but I just couldn't.

  As usual, Mrs. Cheplin checked around to see if everything had been done. And - as usual - she found that everything had been done. "A beautiful job, Stacey," she said.

  "Thanks," I replied as I gathered my things. I wasn't looking forward to riding my bike to Claudia's in the snow.

  "I'd say you've done a wonderful job this week," said Mrs. Cheplin. "How would you like to extend the job for two more weeks?" I didn't understand. If I'd done such a great job why was she offering me just two more weeks?

  She must have sensed my confusion because she explained, "At the end of the two weeks if things are still this great, we'll make a permanent arrangement." "All right," I said, but I wasn't happy. This long probation didn't seem fair.

  "I'll expect a bit more work done in the next two weeks," she said.

  More work! Was she kidding? There was no way I could do more work.

  "Mrs. Cheplin," I began, "I don't think that - " "Naturally I'll pay you more for the additional housework," she cut in. Then she told me how much more. "What were you about to say, Stacey?" "I don't think that will be a problem," I replied. At this rate, I'd have enough money for my theater tickets at the end of the two weeks and maybe even enough to take Robert to dinner if we didn't go anywhere too fancy.

  "We'll see how we both feel it's going at the end of two weeks," Mrs. Cheplin said as she took money from her wallet and paid me.

  "Sounds great," I told her, taking the money and heading for the door. "Have a nice weekend. See you Monday." "Wait, Stacey. Let me drive you home," said Mrs. Cheplin. "We can put your bike in the trunk." She bundled up the kids and we drove to Claudia's house through the falling snow.

  Despite the bad road conditions, I got to the meeting sooner than usual. "How's the job going?" Kristy asked me.

&nb
sp; "Great," I said. "I mean . . . there are some annoying things about it ... but the money is great. Yeah . . . it's great." Chapter 8.

  Greed. It's a dangerous thing.

  That's what I was thinking the following Wednesday as I ran around the Cheplins' house like a maniac trying to accomplish Mrs. Cheplin's ever growing list of things to be done.

  How I'd come to dread that list. I even had nightmares about it. The night before I'd dreamt that I was walking home from school with Robert, and Mrs. Cheplin walked right behind us telling me all the things she wanted done in a steady stream of chatter. And, in my dream, her chores were even worse than in real life. "Stacey, paint the house, wash the windows, patch all the clothes, do the grocery shopping, fix the roof, cook a lasagna." In the dream I covered my ears and tried to get away from her but she chased me, rambling on about her list all the while. "Wallpaper the living room, carpet the stairs, get rid of my clutter, cure Dana's diabetes." That's when I woke up. "I can't!" I cried, still half in my dream. Then I woke up fully and realized I was in my bedroom. I was glad to be out of that dream.

  But I wanted the money. Was that greed? In a way, it was. Because now I no longer wanted only to take Robert to Broadway. Now I also wanted to take him somewhere fancy for dinner. I also wanted to buy a new dress, something that would look special for this special night.

  I'd also started thinking about other ways I could spend the money if I continued working for Mrs. Cheplin. My biggest plan was to save for a sports car. After all, I'd be old enough to drive in a few years. That was enough time to save a good-sized down payment on a car. I spent a lot of time imagining myself cruising to Manhattan in a hot red convertible.

  In order for these plans to come true, I needed to keep my high-paying job with Mrs. Cheplin. That meant making sure everything on her list was accomplished.

  Unfortunately, the real list was only slightly better than the one in my nightmares. So far on that Wednesday I'd already given the kids snacks, straightened up Adam's room, and unloaded the dishwasher. A plumber arrived to fix a leak under the sink. (Mrs. Cheplin had told me the day before that he was coming.) He spread his tools and piping out all over the tiny kitchen floor and crawled under the sink to check things out.

  Now I had to take Dana to her first piano lesson at a house at the top of the hill. Of course, I had to bring Adam with me, too. Just bundling him up in boots, snowsuit, scarf, and hat was a job.

  We trudged up Acorn Place to the home of a woman who gave piano lessons. "I don't think I want to go," Dana announced when we reached the front door. "And I don't feel so good all of a sudden." I took a deep breath. By now I was sure this was a gimmick of Dana's to get out of doing certain things. "Just go in and check it out," I told her. "Adam and I will be right outside." "I really feel sick," she insisted.

  I put my hand between her shoulder blades and gently guided her toward the front door. "I think your mother has already paid for these lessons. She really wants you to go." As I spoke, I rang the doorbell. A friendly-looking lady with short white hair came to the door. "Hello, Mrs. Kleinsasser," I said. "Dana's here for her lesson." "Come in, Dana." Mrs. Kleinsasser greeted her warmly. With slumped shoulders, Dana went inside.

  Adam and I built a snowman on the side of Mrs. Kleinsasser's house while we waited for Dana. Chatterbox Adam told me all about his parents' divorce. "My daddy got a job in Chicago and he wanted to go and my mommy didn't want to go and they had a big fight. So then he went but we stayed here. Daddy calls us every night and he's going to visit us in the spring. We're going to live with him this summer." "This summer?" I gasped. That meant I wouldn't be earning this money through the summer. I'd have to take that into account when I was calculating things.

  "Yes, we'll be with him all summer. He lives in an apartment building with a pool and . . ." I didn't listen to the rest of what he had to say. I was busy adding up what I wouldn't be making this summer and subtracting it from the total yearly amount that I'd calculated days ago.

  At the end of the hour, Dana came outside smiling. "It was great," she reported.

  "How do you feel?" I asked.

  "Fine," she said.

  I wasn't surprised.

  I hurried the kids back down the hill as fast as Adam's short legs would go. I knew I'd lost a precious hour waiting at the Kleinsassers' and would have to make up some time. When we reached the house, the plumber was still under the sink.

  I checked the list. Stamp outgoing bills. Make dentist appointment for Adam. Fold laundry.

  When those things were done, "peel carrots" was next on my list. "It's homework time," Adam said as I stepped over a box of plumbers' tools to reach a pack of carrots in the refrigerator. Checking the wall clock, I saw that he was right. I'd never get everything done in time! Think, Stacey, think, I urged myself. There had to be a way. "I'll peel while you read," I suggested.

  We sat at the kitchen table. I peeled while Adam read me Martin and the Tooth Fairy.

  After awhile, Dana came to the table holding her math workbook. "Stacey, I don't understand this." "Let me see," I said.

  "Hey, I'm reading!" Adam cried indignantly.

  "I can still listen." "No, you can't," he protested.

  "Dana, just wait till he stops reading." "Look at how much he has left," Dana said.

  "And he reads so slow." She was right. He did have a long way to go.

  "Adam, keep reading. Really, I can listen." "Oh, all right," said Adam.

  Still peeling carrots into a brown paper bag, I looked at Dana's division problem and tried to keep part of my mind on Adam's reading.

  "Young lady," the plumber called from near the front door. "I turned off the water. I'm going out to check one of the pipes that runs outside." "Okay," I called over my shoulder.

  I had just turned back to Dana's division problem when my hand slipped and I scraped my thumb on the peeler. "Ow!" I cried, jumping to my feet, waving my throbbing hand in the air.

  Adam burst into tears.

  "What's wrong?" I asked as I tried to shake the pain from my hand.

  "You're not listening to me read!" he cried, tears sliding down his cheeks.

  "Oh, stop it, you big baby!" Dana scolded him.

  Mrs. Cheplin picked that moment to walk in the front door. "What's going on here?" she asked.

  Adam ran to his mother and threw his tearful face into her side. "Stacey won't listen to me read!" he sobbed.

  Mrs. Cheplin looked at me with questioning eyes. "I was listening, but . . ."I began. My voice trailed off because Mrs. Cheplin wasn't listening. She was looking around the kitchen.

  "This place is a mess!" she cried, glaring at me accusingly. "What's all this?" "The plumber," I reminded her.

  "Where is he?" Mrs. Cheplin asked.

  "Outside. He's checking something." With troubled eyes, Mrs. Cheplin continued looking around the house, checking to see if everything was done. I had the strangest feeling that Mrs. Cheplin almost hoped to find something not done. "Did Dana go to her piano lesson?" she asked me.

  "Yes." "You didn't start the rice," she said, sounding displeased.

  It was the last thing on the list and it was true, I hadn't gotten to it. Then I thought fast. "The plumber turned the water off." Even if I'd wanted to start the rice I wouldn't have been able to boil the water for it.

  Looking at me suspiciously, Mrs. Cheplin went to the sink and turned the faucet. Water spurted out.

  "Honest," I said. "That's what he told me." Mrs. Cheplin rolled her eyes and wiped some black gook from the kitchen counter. The plumber had left it there, but Mrs. Cheplin looked at me as if I should have cleaned up after him already.

  I felt really angry. Why was I knocking myself out to please this woman who didn't appreciate what I did and only looked to find fault? Who did she think she was, anyway? I opened my mouth to tell her what I thought when the plumber came in the front door.

  He nodded at Mrs. Cheplin. "One of your outside lines was frozen so the water couldn't pass. It b
acked up and that's what caused the leak in your system. I torched the frozen clog free, which might send some water through your line, but to keep a continuous flow I have to turn the water back on. Once I do that you'll be fine." "Wonderful," Mrs. Cheplin told the plumber. "I see you were right about the water," she said to me. "You couldn't have started the rice." No, I thought bitterly. You'll have to make it yourself. What a horror. You'll actually have to boil a pot of water.

  Plumber or no plumber, if Dana was going to go to piano lessons I wouldn't be able to get so many things done on those days. Mrs. Cheplin would just have to understand that. I took a deep breath, preparing to tell her that, when Mrs. Cheplin handed me my pay.

  I looked down at the money in my hand. A picture of Robert and me in New York flashed through my mind. Another image - me in my flashy red car - whizzed across my brain, too.

  I folded the money and stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans. "Thanks," I said. "See you tomorrow." As I said, greed is a dangerous thing.

  Chapter 9.

  While I was at the Cheplins' struggling with plumbers and piano lessons, Mallory and Kristy were having a hard time of their own. They were at Mal's sitting for the younger Pikes. Mrs. Pike always hires two sitters since there are so many kids.

  Byron, Jordan, and Adam Pike were making a snow fort in the yard. They'd decided this was going to be the snow fort to end all snow forts. They kept thinking of great additions to their fort and running in and out of the house for the supplies they needed.

  "You're tracking mushy snow all over the kitchen floor!" Mallory scolded Byron. She was sitting at the table helping Vanessa and Margo cut out red construction paper valentines to make a valentine chain.

  "Stop bugging me, Mallory." Byron blew her off as he opened the cabinet that held the pots and pans. He rummaged through it until he pulled out a metal strainer. "Just what I need," he announced triumphantly.

  "What are you going to use that for?" asked Kristy as she walked into the kitchen with Claire. Claire had chocolate smeared all over her face and Kristy was looking for a cloth to clean her up with.