Claudia's Big Party

by Ann M. Martin

  Food! I needed food. I found a bag of M&M’s in my desk drawer, ripped it open, and poured out a handful. Yum! Chocolate helped. I passed the bag to Kristy, who was talking quietly with Mary Anne. One of my duties as vice-president of the BSC is to make sure everyone is fed. And that’s no problem because I keep a “healthy” supply of junk food (and other food).

  When Kristy came up with the idea for the BSC, she asked Mary Anne and me to join it. Back then, Mary Anne also lived on Bradford Court, next door to Kristy. They’ve been best friends practically since they were born. Mary Anne’s mother died when Mary Anne was a baby, so for a long time her family was just her and her dad. Mr. Spier was pretty strict. He made rules for Mary Anne about how she had to dress, how she could wear her hair, and how late she could stay out. It wasn’t easy for Mary Anne — she’s one of the shyest, most sensitive people I know — but she stood up to her dad and he loosened up a little. Mary Anne cut her brown hair, bought some new clothes, and was given the same curfew the rest of us had.

  Then even bigger changes took place in her family. Mary Anne made a new friend, Dawn Schafer, who had moved to Stoneybrook from California. Together they found out that their parents, Mary Anne’s widowed father and Dawn’s divorced mother, had dated in high school. They did some matchmaking and before long Mary Anne had a new stepmother, Sharon; a new stepsister (and best friend), Dawn; and a new stepbrother, Jeff. Mary Anne, Mr. Spier, and Tigger (Mary Anne’s kitten) moved into the Schafers’ old farmhouse, and began life as a blended family. After awhile, Dawn decided to return to California and live with her dad. (Jeff had already made that move.) That means Mary Anne and Dawn are long-distance sisters now, but they’re still close. They talk on the phone and visit whenever they can, but they miss each other a lot. When Dawn lived here, she was a BSC member too. She’s our honorary member now. When she visits, it’s as if she’s never been gone.

  Mary Anne is the BSC secretary. She’s in charge of the club record book, where we keep track of all our schedules, clients’ names and addresses, ages of the kids for whom we baby-sit, rates we charge, and any other special information about the children. She’s the perfect person for the job because she’s very organized (and she knows how to spell).

  Mary Anne used to be the only one of us with a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno. Now I’m seeing Josh, and Stacey McGill, another BSC member who’s also my best friend, has an “older” boyfriend from New York City, Ethan Carroll. The following night the six of us were going on our first triple date, and I couldn’t wait.

  “Did you buy anything this afternoon?” Stacey asked, as she moved my books aside and sat down on the bed next to me. Mallory Pike and Jessi Ramsey had come in with her. They sat on the floor, looking at a book Jessi held on her lap.

  “Not one single thing,” I answered. I hadn’t even had time to try on the paintbrush earrings. I dug around in my desk a little more, pulled out some pretzels, and handed them to Stacey. I keep a special stash of healthier snacks for Stacey because she can’t eat sugary junk food. Stacey has diabetes, a condition that interferes with the way her body processes sugar. If she eats certain things, she can become very sick. As long as Stacey is very careful about her diet, monitors her blood sugar level, and gives herself daily injections of insulin, she’s fine. But it’s something she’ll have to deal with her whole life.

  Stacey moved to Stoneybrook from New York City when we were in seventh grade, and we invited her to join the BSC not long after she arrived. Stacey is tall, thin, blonde, and beautiful. Like me, she loves fashion, but her look is more grown-up and sophisticated than mine — or anyone else’s in the BSC. It’s the New York influence. Stacey moved back to New York after she’d lived here awhile. Then her parents divorced, and she and her mother moved back to Stoneybrook. Stacey’s dad still lives in New York City, and she visits there often. That’s how she met Ethan.

  Math is one of Stacey’s strong points, so naturally she’s our BSC treasurer. She collects dues from us every Monday. We use the money to pay Charlie for driving Kristy and (usually) Abby Stevenson to our meetings, to pay for part of my phone bill, to buy supplies for our Kid-Kits, and to fund special events for our charges. Sometimes, when we have a little extra money in the treasury, we spend it on a pizza party.

  Kristy looked at my digital clock. It read 5:29. Just then, Abby burst into the room.

  “I’m not late, am I?” Abby said, breathing hard.

  Kristy stared at Abby for a moment. “Nope.” When the clock clicked over to 5:30, she said, “The meeting will come to order.”

  Abby sank to the floor, then stretched her legs out in front of her. She leaned forward, touching her face to her knees. I’d seen Jessi do that lots of time, but never Abby. “What?” she asked as she straightened up and found all of us staring at her. “I need to cool down. I ran today, but I’m a little off. I should have made it here with more time to spare.” She continued to stretch.

  Abby is our newest BSC member. She recently moved to Stoneybrook from Long Island with her mother and her sister, Anna. They live on Kristy’s street. Abby and Anna are identical twins. They have totally different interests, though. Abby loves sports and outdoor activities, while Anna is a serious musician. We invited both Abby and Anna to join the BSC, but Anna decided she wouldn’t have time to baby-sit and practice the violin as much as she likes. Abby is our alternate officer, which means she takes over the duties of any club officer who might be absent. She has asthma and is allergic to a long list of foods and other stuff, but she doesn’t let any of that slow her down for a moment. Abby’s dad died in a car accident when she was nine. She doesn’t talk much about it, but it must be hard. Losing people you love is always difficult. I know because my grandmother, Mimi, died not long ago. She lived with us, and we were very close. I still miss her.

  The phone rang almost as soon as Kristy called the meeting to order. Stacey answered, and the BSC was open for business.

  Jessi and Mallory continued to pore over the book. They’re our junior officers, and they’re best friends. Both are in sixth grade and can only baby-sit in the afternoons unless it’s for their own siblings. They share a love of horses and books, and each is the oldest kid in her family. So they have plenty in common. By the way, there are eight children in Mal’s family, four girls and four boys, including identical triplets. There are three kids in Jessi’s family.

  “Mal, you’re free Thursday afternoon. Want to baby-sit for the Rodowskys?” Mary Anne asked after checking the schedules in the record book.

  When Mal looked up, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She shook her head, her reddish-brown curls swinging, then buried her face in the book again.

  Stacey and I exchanged glances. Things hadn’t been going well for Mal lately. Not long ago some of the crueler kids in school started calling her “Spaz Girl.” I’d hoped it would blow over, but the nickname spread through the entire school. Maybe this experience will find its way into a book someday. That’s what Mal wants to do — write and illustrate children’s books.

  Mal is lucky to have Jessi as a friend to help her through this. They’ve been friends since Jessi’s first day of school in Stoneybrook. (The Ramseys moved here from Oakley, New Jersey.) In addition to the interest in books and horses she shares with Mal, Jessi loves dancing. She studies ballet seriously and is very talented. She even looks like a dancer — tall and graceful, with her black hair often pulled back from her face in a bun. Jessi has a younger sister, Becca, and a baby brother, John Philip, Jr., better known as Squirt.

  There are two other members of the BSC, associate members who don’t regularly attend meetings but who handle our overflow jobs. One is Shannon Kilbourne, the only one of us who doesn’t attend Stoneybrook Middle School. She goes to Stoneybrook Day School. Shannon lives on Kristy and Abby’s street. She’s very involved in activities at her school, so she doesn’t have time left for any more regular meetings.

  Finally, there’s Logan, who, as I mentio
ned, is Mary Anne’s boyfriend. He’s cute, with blondish-brown curly hair and blue eyes. He’s also funny, and wonderfully understanding, and he has the greatest southern accent. Logan used to live in Louisville, Kentucky, and you can still hear it in his voice.

  “What time are we meeting tomorrow night?” Mary Anne asked Stacey and me. “Logan has a football game in the afternoon and he needs time to clean up before we go out.”

  “I’d hope so!” said Stacey. “Ethan is coming in on the four-fifteen train from New York. Mom and I are going to pick him up at the station, then take him back to the house. We might drive around town too, since Ethan’s never been here.”

  “Are you nervous?” I asked. Stacey was twisting her blonde hair around her finger, something she doesn’t often do.

  “A little,” she admitted.

  I understood. Ethan is fifteen and the rest of us are thirteen, except Josh, who is still twelve. “We won’t embarrass you, will we, Mary Anne?”

  “You won’t and I won’t. I can’t speak for Logan or Josh,” she said, smiling.

  “Josh is looking forward to going out with all of you,” I said. I hoped. “I’ll talk to him tonight and make sure he knows what’s expected of him.”

  “Don’t do that! You don’t want to make him nervous. Josh is fun. He’ll be fine. And so will Logan. It’s just that Ethan is used to New York and we’re in Stoneybrook,” Stacey pointed out.

  “We’re adjourned —” The phone interrupted Kristy’s announcement. She reached out and picked up the receiver. “Baby-sitters Club,” she said. “Yes, it’s Kristy, Mrs. Korman…. I’ll check the schedule and call you back to tell you who your sitter will be. Thanks for calling.” Kristy dropped the receiver back into the cradle. “Who’s available to sit for the Kormans tomorrow afternoon? Bill and Melody only. Mr. and Mrs. Korman are taking Skylar to a special baby gym class.”

  I waited for someone else to speak up. I was free, but between the pile of homework waiting for me and the big date tomorrow night, I wasn’t sure I had time.

  “I’ll take it,” Abby volunteered. “And I’ll even call Mrs. Korman to tell her.”

  “Do you want to ride home, or are you running?” Kristy asked as Abby dialed the Kormans’ number and everyone else prepared to leave.

  “Mrs. Korman? What?” Abby held the phone to one ear and clamped her free hand over the other. “It’s Abby Stevenson. I’m available to baby-sit for you tomorrow.” She listened, then repeated, “What? … Okay, see you then.” Abby hung up, shaking her head. “Whoa! Sounds like a war zone at the Kormans’. Melody was crying and Bill was yelling. I could barely hear a word Mrs. Korman said. I hope they reach some kind of truce by tomorrow afternoon.”

  I looked at the telephone sitting on my night-stand. Janine was checking the math problems I’d managed to finish in the hour we’d been working together. I still had six to go, but I wanted to make sure I was doing them correctly before I went any further. If it was going to take her awhile, maybe I could sneak in a call to Josh. My parents had made it a rule that I had to finish at least some of my weekend homework on Friday. In the past, I’d had a habit of leaving everything until Sunday night and then feeling as if I couldn’t face it because there was so much. I wasn’t technically finished with what I needed to do tonight, but I had done a fair amount.

  I stood up, stretched, and took three steps toward the telephone.

  Janine’s head snapped up. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to call Josh and tell him what time we’re going out tomorrow night,” I said.

  “Claudia, you’re aware of the restrictions on your use of the telephone before you complete your homework assignments,” Janine reminded me.

  I rolled my eyes. Janine sometimes talks as if she’s choosing words out of a special genius dictionary, especially when the subject is schoolwork.

  “There are a few principles in this assignment that need further clarification. Come sit here and we’ll discuss the issues that are contributing to your errors.” Janine patted the seat of my desk chair. “Don’t be discouraged. You’re doing an admirable job, especially in light of the fact that this concept was only recently introduced. Your errors may simply be a matter of too little attention to detail.”

  Something I’m sure my sister would never be guilty of. I sat down. “Don’t you have anything better to do than help me with math on a Friday night? I could have started with history or English. Mom and Dad offered to work with me.” Looking at Janine’s face, I felt bad for asking that question. She’d broken up with her boyfriend, Jerry Michaels, recently. Even though it had been Janine’s idea, they’d gone out for a long time, so I’m sure it wasn’t easy.

  “I don’t mind spending the evening with my sister.” Janine smiled and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Jerry was a person whose presence in my life expanded geometrically rather than arithmetically, taking up more time than one person should.”

  I nodded, not quite sure what she meant, but realizing, now that I thought about it, that she used to spend more time with Jerry than with anyone else. I thought of Josh again. I wished I had more time to spend with him. But as Janine might say, time is a constant. There’s only a certain amount of it.

  “How about adding a little C12H22O11 to this equation?” Janine asked.

  I leaned over and looked at my math paper. “Which one?”

  Janine laughed. “C12H22O11 is the chemical compound for sucrose. The main component of your … junk food.”

  “You want some candy?” I asked. Janine can be so weird. Why didn’t she just say candy?

  “What kind do you have?”

  “Snickers.” I opened the middle drawer in my desk, reached to the back, and found two candy bars.

  “Thank you.” Janine unwrapped hers and began to nibble.

  “So, what have I done wrong here?” I asked, with my mouth full of chocolate, peanuts, caramel, and nougat.

  “How is Josh Rocker fitting into the equation of your life?” Janine replied.

  I was so surprised I stopped chewing and my mouth fell open. I’m sure it looked charming, since it was full of candy bar. I swallowed. The equation of my life was kind of out of balance at the moment, but Janine probably wouldn’t be interested in that. “Josh is fun,” I said.

  “Fun is important,” she replied, nodding.

  Even I, with my normal IQ, knew that. I also knew that the sooner we finished the math, the sooner I could call Josh. I stared at the small check marks Janine had made in several places.

  “The first three problems are perfect,” she said.

  I took a moment to enjoy my success. Janine continued, explaining the errors I’d made in the other problems. Most of them were from working too quickly, I realized. I erased the wrong answers. “Let me finish these problems and you’ll be free,” I said, bending over my paper. It didn’t take me long.

  “Janine?” She’d stood up while I was working. I turned in my chair to see her standing in front of my dresser, holding a pair of feather earrings up to her ears.

  “What do you think?” she asked, turning around.

  “Hmmm,” was my enthusiastic response. Not in a million years could I imagine my sister going out in public in feather earrings. She tended to wear tiny gold balls and pearl studs, when she bothered with earrings at all. “I’m finished correcting the problems. I’ll work on the rest of the assignment while you’re checking these.”

  “Maybe then we could bake cookies together?”

  Again I looked at Janine.

  “We seldom indulge in any activities together beyond math homework, Claudia. It might be fun.”

  Janine looked so hopeful. Did she truly want to be with me, or was she lonely? Oh, well. Maybe I could sneak in a telephone call to Josh while the cookies were baking.

  I was about to agree when there was a knock on the door. “May we come in?” Mom asked.

  I quickly shoved our candy wrappers in my math book.

  “Sorry to int
errupt your study session,” Dad said as he and Mom stepped into my room. They looked around, and I could almost hear what they were thinking. I tend to be creative in my room decor too — clothes draped over furniture and on the floor, the bedspread artistically wrinkled.

  “Something has come up,” Mom began.

  Janine and I sat up a little straighter. Mom looked awfully serious.

  “It’s good news,” she added, her eyes sparkling. “I think.”

  “Tell us,” I said.

  Mom pulled and patted the bedspread, removing the wrinkles. Then she and Dad sat down facing us.

  “The news is good for me, anyway,” Mom began. “I’ve been invited to attend a library convention in Chicago.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Janine put in. “Is it the one you mentioned last summer? There were some speakers you were anxious to hear.”

  Mom nodded. “Yes. The representative from our region, southern Connecticut, has to have back surgery and won’t be able to attend. He asked me to go in his place. So it isn’t good news for Mr. Christian.” She looked at Dad. “But I guess it is for me.”

  “The convention is next weekend,” Dad continued. “You may remember Jim Simpson, who used to work at the firm with me. He and his family moved to Chicago and we haven’t seen him in several years. Your mom and I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to visit the Simpsons.” He cleared his throat.

  I didn’t remember Jim Simpson, but Janine was nodding, so maybe she did. Chicago has a wonderful art museum and a science museum Janine would probably love. Would we miss any school? “It sounds great,” I said. “I’d love to visit the Art Institute again. When do we leave?”