Mary Anne and the Great Romance

  That was how the evening would start — we hoped — and we had other things planned, too.

  * * *

  The surprise dinner was held on a Friday night, and Dawn and I were so excited all day that we couldn’t think of anything except the dinner. At lunchtime, Dawn said, “Are you baby-sitting this afternoon, Mary Anne?”

  “Nope,” I replied. “Why?”

  “Oh, good. I’m not, either. So I was thinking — after school we’ll change into our going-out-to-dinner clothes. We’ll wear them to the BSC meeting, and when the meeting is over, we can run right across the street to your house and be ready to go out for dinner. Your dad won’t have to pick me up or anything.”

  Kristy rolled her eyes. I could hardly blame her. Dawn and I had been talking about the surprise dinner nonstop. But, well, it was awfully exciting.

  And I had finally found a present for Mrs. Schafer. I’d bought it with some of my baby-sitting money. It was jewelry, but it was not a cat. It was a charm that was a replica of the Stoneybrook High School ring. Kristy’s brother Charlie had gotten it for me at the SHS store, where they sell school supplies and T-shirts and things like that. I thought Mrs. Schafer could wear it on a chain around her neck. I’d chosen it because I knew that years ago, when she and my father went to SHS, Dad hadn’t been able to afford a school ring for either of them, so Mrs. Schafer had never gotten one. I figured the present would be full of meaning.

  * * *

  On Friday, for one of the very few times ever, Dawn and I could not wait for the BSC meeting to end. When it finally did, we felt just as if we’d slogged through another day at school. Claudia’s digital clock flipped to six — and we were out of there!

  “ ’Bye, you guys!” we called over our shoulders as we tore down the Kishis’ hallway and out the front door. Then we dashed across the street to my house.

  Dad was already there. He’d come home early, and he greeted us at the door.

  “Don’t you two look nice,” he said.

  We grinned. “Thanks,” I replied.

  Dawn was wearing a flowered dress from the Laura Ashley store out at Washington Mall, and flat blue shoes. It was a rather un-Dawn outfit, but she looked very grown-up — and beautiful with all that long hair. I was wearing a green skirt and a baggy sweater with big, colorful flowers splashed over it, and beads in the centers of the flowers. Both of us had sat stiffly through the club meeting so as not to crush or wrinkle anything.

  There was half an hour to kill before it was time to leave, but the three of us used the time well. Dawn and I brushed our hair and placed our presents in a small shopping bag. (I hadn’t told Dawn what I’d bought for her mother.) Then we put on nail polish that Dawn had brought with her. I had to ask permission from Dad first, and he said I could wear clear only. Well, that was better than nothing, even if Dawn did get to wear purple.

  Meanwhile, Dad called the restaurant, and a store that delivers balloon bouquets, to confirm several things. He put a single red rose in a wet napkin and put the napkin in a plastic bag. Then he added the rose to our shopping bag.

  “Where’s your gift?” I asked him.

  “It’s a secret,” he replied mysteriously. “Come on. It’s six-thirty. Time to go.”

  We reached Chez Maurice at 6:45 on the nose. So far so good. Then Dad told the maitre d’ we were part of the Humboldt party, and we were led to a table right away.

  It was beautiful! Just as we’d discussed, a bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket by the table. Candles were lit, and on a pristine white tablecloth were fragile blue china plates and real silverware. While Dawn and I gawked at everything, Dad had a conference with the maitre d’. Then the maitre d’ left and the three of us sat down. Dawn and I put our presents at Mrs. Schafer’s place, and Dad unwrapped the rose and put it right on her plate. Everything looked so elegant.

  “The only thing missing is the balloon bouquet,” said Dad.

  “And my mother,” added Dawn.

  We laughed.

  Luckily the balloons arrived five minutes before Mrs. Schafer did. A waiter tied them to a chandelier over our table. I hoped the chandelier wouldn’t get too hot because popping helium balloons at Chez Maurice would be pretty embarrassing.

  The balloons had just been tied up and the waiter had left when Mrs. Schafer was escorted to our table. When she saw the three of us, the balloons, the presents, the rose, and the champagne, I thought she was going to faint.

  “Surprise! Happy birthday!” we said, but not very loudly.

  “Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Dawn’s mom. She took her seat at the table a little shakily. “What happened to Stu Humboldt?”

  Dad smiled. “Forget about him. There’s no business dinner. Dawn and Mary Anne and I have had this planned for weeks,” he said. Then he pinned the rose to Mrs. Schafer’s blouse — and the two of them smiled at each other like they were the only two people in the restaurant.

  A little while later, the waiter brought the menus, and the meal began. I won’t go into too many details about the meal because, although it was fun and the food was great, the best part was yet to come.

  Dessert.

  As Dad had arranged with the maitre d’, our waiter announced that he would bring us dessert menus, but instead he brought — a cake! No one sang “Happy Birthday,” though, and I could tell Mrs. Schafer was relieved.

  The cake was beautiful. The frosting was white with pink and blue flowers everywhere, and on top were four candles. We all leaned over for a closer look, but after Mrs. Schafer had blown out the candles, she continued to peer at the cake.

  “What is it?” asked Dawn.

  Very slowly, her mother pulled out one candle and held up something that had been slipped over it onto the cake.

  “Is this what I think it is?” she asked my father.

  He nodded nervously.

  Mrs. Schafer held the something up for Dawn and me to see.

  It was a diamond ring.

  “It’s — it’s an engagement ring,” she told us. Then she turned to Dad. “I thought we agreed — no rings. We’ve both been through this marriage business before. We don’t need new rings.”

  Dad shrugged. “I just couldn’t help myself,” he said, “especially since I couldn’t even get you a school ring back in twelfth grade.”

  Mrs. Schafer leaned over and kissed my father on the cheek. And as you can imagine, Dawn and I just gaped at them. Finally I managed to whisper, “You mean you’re getting married?”

  My father and Dawn’s mother nodded.

  “We were trying to think of a special way to tell you, but we hadn’t come up with anything,” said Dad. “I decided this might be the best way — a celebration.” He turned to Mrs. Schafer. “I’m sorry I didn’t consult you. Do you mind?”

  “Only a little,” she replied honestly. “How can I mind too much with balloons and a cake and — and a ring …”

  I could tell she was about to cry so I started to say, “Open your presents.”

  Instead, Dawn looked at me and said in amazement, “We’re going to be stepsisters! Can you believe it?”

  Suddenly I began to cry. Dawn did, too. We threw our arms around each other. Then we asked our parents a million questions, such as when would the wedding be held, would we be in it, and could we invite our friends?

  Dad and Mrs. Schafer didn’t have too many answers, except that the wedding would probably be a small one, held very soon, and that Jeff would fly in from California for it.

  After that, Mrs. Schafer opened her presents. She loved Dawn’s day-planner, even though it was no surprise and, as you can imagine, she really loved the school-ring charm I’d gotten her. She almost started to cry again, but instead she said, “What a special gift, honey. I’m so glad you’re going to be my stepdaughter.”

  Dad smiled at me.

  I grinned at Dawn.

  Dawn took her time smiling back.

  After that, the party wasn’t quite so festive. But it wasn’t until
I was snug in bed that night, Tigger curled up next to my head, that some other things began to bother me. For instance, Dawn had said her mother doesn’t like cats. Well, no way was I giving up Tigger. Somehow, Mrs. Schafer would have to learn to get along with him after the wedding. Then I thought about what a neatnik my father is, and how organized he is. He likes everything just so. How would he ever live with Dawn’s messy, scatterbrained mother?

  Oh, well, those were small things, I told myself, compared to the fact that I was going to gain a stepmother, a part-time stepbrother, and … a stepsister. And the stepsister would be Dawn — one of my best friends in the whole world. I could not believe my good luck!

  Dawn and I learned our amazing news on a Friday night. Somehow, we managed to wait all the way until the Monday BSC meeting before we told any of our other friends about it. I honestly don’t know how we did that. Sheer willpower, I guess. Also, we really wanted to make a splash. That was the best way we could think of to do that.

  I even asked Kristy if Logan could come to the meeting.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Good question. “Because I have some news,” I replied carefully, “and I want all my closest friends to hear it at once.” (I purposely didn’t say that Dawn and I had news. That might have given the secret away.)

  “We-ell,” said Kristy slowly, “it’s not our usual club policy, but sure — if Logan can come, he’s welcome.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. I already knew that Logan could come. I’d told him to hold five-thirty till six open on Monday in case we asked him to attend the meeting.

  At five-thirty on Monday afternoon, Dawn and I were just as beside ourselves as we’d been at Friday’s meeting.

  “What is it with you two?” asked Kristy testily. “You’ve got to keep your minds on the meeting. This club is a formal organization, you know.”

  “We know, we know,” said Dawn breathlessly. “We also know there’ll be lulls after we’ve finished our business and in between calls. And Mary Anne and I have something very important to tell you.”

  “So you’re part of this, too?” Kristy asked Dawn, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I was Kristy’s best friend, but lately Dawn and I had been having all the excitement and secrets.

  “Well, yes,” said Dawn, as if she were making some great confession.

  Kristy sighed. “All right. Let’s get this meeting underway. Order, order!”

  I looked around Claud’s room. We were all in place — Kristy in the director’s chair; Stacey backwards in the desk chair; Claudia, Dawn, and I lined up on Claud’s bed; and Jessi and Mal on the floor. The few times Logan had attended meetings, he’d sat wherever he could find a space, usually next to me. But on that afternoon, he was also sitting on the floor, leaning against Claud’s closet door.

  Since it was a Monday, Stacey collected club dues. (Logan doesn’t have to pay.) When she was finished, we just sat in our places. The phone did not ring. Dawn and I looked at each other. Now was our chance.

  Dawn opened her mouth, and —

  Ring, ring!

  “I’ll get it!” screeched Kristy, reaching for the phone.

  It was Mrs. Perkins, across the street. Kristy and I arranged for Mallory to sit for the girls a week from Wednesday.

  When the phone was quiet, Dawn and I looked at each other again.

  Dawn opened her mouth.

  Ring, ring!

  This time Stacey answered the phone and set up a job with the Rodowsky boys.

  The phone grew quiet.

  Dawn and I looked at each other.

  We did not say a word.

  “What are you waiting for?” asked Kristy.

  “The phone,” replied Dawn. “If I start to say something, it’ll ring again.”

  But it didn’t ring for a full minute, so at last Dawn said, “Mary Anne? Should I give it a try?”

  I nodded.

  Then Dawn looked across the room at Logan. She looked back at me. “You tell the news,” she said unexpectedly.

  I knew why she had decided to let me tell. She felt that Logan ought to hear such important news from me. Also, I’d known most of the other BSC members a lot longer than she had. I smiled gratefully at my future stepsister.

  “Okay, here goes,” I said, fully expecting the phone to ring again, but it didn’t. “On Friday night, when we took Dawn’s mom out for her birthday, it turned out that there was a surprise for Dawn and me, too. A big one.”

  “There was?” said Claudia.

  I nodded. “Dad’s present to Mrs. Schafer was an engagement ring. They’re going to get married. Dawn and I will be stepsisters!”

  Well, you have never heard such loud silence. Everyone in the room was stunned, but only for a moment. Then this incredible shrieking and cheering and yelling began. Logan jumped up, crossed the room in two strides (nearly stepping on Mallory), grabbed me off the bed, and whirled me around. As soon as he put me down, Claudia gave me a huge hug. Dawn and Stacey hugged. Everyone hugged — except Kristy. I mean, she did get into the spirit of things, but it took her a little while longer. I knew that deep down, she was hurt, and I’d been expecting that. How could she not feel hurt? Something had just happened over which she had absolutely no control and which was going to form a unique bond between Dawn and me forever. So I was prepared for Kristy’s reaction. When she finally did hug me, I managed to slip a note into the back pocket of her jeans. It read:

  I hoped Kristy would find the note before she threw her jeans in the wash. (As it happened, she did. She never said anything to me, but I could tell she’d read the note by the way she smiled at me in school the next day. I felt really good about that.)

  Anyway, the eight of us were making such a racket that Claudia’s genius sister, Janine, actually dragged herself away from her computer and came down the hall to see what was going on.

  “Is anything wrong?” she yelled from the doorway. “What’s happening? You’re making quite a bit of noise. Furthermore, your phone is ringing.”

  “What?” shouted Kristy. “The phone?”

  Janine nodded.

  “Hey! Everyone be quiet!” ordered Kristy, as Janine disappeared back into her room, which is like the Bermuda Triangle, since she hardly ever comes out of it.

  We quieted down enough to set up another job. Then the questions began flying:

  “When will the wedding be?”

  “Was your mom surprised, Dawn?”

  “Does Jeff know yet?”

  And the exclamations, too:

  “I can’t believe you won’t be an only child anymore, Mary Anne!”

  “You’re finally going to have a mother!”

  “You guys are going to be stepsisters. Awesome!”

  Dawn and I, bit by bit, told everyone the story of the birthday dinner. We answered their questions as well as we could, even though we didn’t know much more than they did. Some of those nagging thoughts (like Mrs. Schafer not liking cats) came back to me as we talked things over, but I put them out of my mind.

  The next job call was from Mrs. Arnold, which prompted Jessi to ask me how the twins were doing.

  “You know, I think they’re worse,” I had to admit. I reminded my friends about the masking-tape incident, which they’d read about in the club notebook. “The girls are so different now it’s unbelievable. They vie for their parents’ attention, they’re mean to each other, and this business of Carolyn having all these friends has really come between them.”

  “In fami —” said Mal, at the same time Kristy said, “The twins —”

  We laughed. Then, “You go first,” Kristy told Mallory.

  “Well, I was just going to say,” Mal began, “that in families, brothers and sisters don’t always get along.”

  “That’s true,” said Jessi. “Becca and I fight sometimes. Sometimes we even get mad at Squirt.”

  “Yeah,” agreed the rest of us, except for Stacey and me, since we had never had a brother or sister not to get along with.

/>   “And kids in families always tease,” Mal went on, “no matter how much they love each other. Sometimes the target of the worst teasing can change. In my family, it used to be Vanessa. I guess because she would make such a pest out of herself by always talking in rhyme. Now a lot of the teasing is directed at Nicky. And when I first got my braces, the triplets called me ‘metal-mouth’ for two weeks. Just wait until they get their braces.”

  “But what about this business with their parents?” I asked. “That’s new. And I don’t like it.”

  “Well, what I was going to say,” said Kristy, “is that the twins are changing. We know that. And their mother and father are two different people, of course, so now I bet the girls are trying to do things that will please one or the other of their parents. Like, maybe Mrs. Arnold really appreciates kids who are social and have lots of friends. And maybe Mr. Arnold really appreciates artsy stuff like music or whatever.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “It can work in reverse, too,” Kristy pointed out. “Sometimes parents bend over backwards trying to please their kids. I’ll never forget when Mom and Watson first got married. Any time there was an argument or a problem, Mom sided with Karen and Andrew, and Watson sided with my brothers and me. They just wanted their step-kids to like them.”

  I nodded.

  “Plus,” went on Kristy, “you know how friends can go off in different directions?”

  “Yeah,” I said guiltily.

  “Well, if friends can, then I guess twin sisters can, too. But I bet things will work out again after awhile.”

  “I think they usually do,” added Mal. “Between brothers and sisters, or parents and kids, or friends.”

  The eight of us grew so quiet thinking these things over that I could hear Janine’s computer clicking away in her room.

  Then Claudia suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, my lord! I just can’t believe you two are going to be stepsisters!”

  “And friends and club members,” I pointed out.

  That was all it took for the screaming and hugging to start again.

  Logan couldn’t take it any longer. “See y’all tomorrow,” he said hastily, and escaped.