I know I just wrote to you yesterday, but I whanted to send you this picture of lobster traps. Here on Monhegan the lobster traping season is not in the summer its in the winter. The day the traps go in the water is a very big deal like a holiday.
Oh Stacey I am trying not to be bord but I am anyway. Well I guess the truth is that Im a little lonly. I miss you.
Love,
Claudia
Tuesday
Dear Claud,
Following your instructions I went to the Met today! (I went by myself, but that’s another story.) I had a great time! It’s been awhile since I was here. Do you like this card? I bought it at the gift store. Went to all our favorite spots, starting with the lily pond painting. This month there’s an exhibit of early American quilts. They were awesome. I tried to imagine making one of them. (Can’t even make that stupid glasses case.) Oh, I wish you were here.
Love,
Stacey
July 14
Well.
Of all nerve.
Just got letter from Jessi. Don’t even know how to describe it. Horrendous? Stupefying? And yet, for J., good news.
She was accepted into ballet program, the one Mme. Noelle suggested she try out for. I guess I had a feeling that would happen. J.’s so talented. And yet … well, maybe will just paste part of J.’s letter down here to document momentous occasion:
* * *
Kristy, I have the most amazing news. Last Friday I tried out for the new dance school (it’s called the Stamford Ballet Society). At the end of my audition one of the instructors said, “You did a good job, Jessi. You’ll hear from us one way or the other in about ten days.” Well, guess what. Someone from the school called yesterday — just four days later — to say that I’d gotten in. They hadn’t even seen all the prospective students yet, but they wanted to let me know as soon as possible that I was accepted so I wouldn’t make any other plans. That’s how badly they want me to join their school, Kristy! Isn’t that amazing?
Now comes the hard part of this letter. I’ve been talking and talking with Mama and Daddy ever since I got this news. Being accepted into the school is going to cause a lot of changes for all of us since I’ll be spending so much time in Stamford starting the first week of September. I’ll be there until almost dinnertime every single weekday (Daddy can drive me home when he leaves work), and I’ll be there all day every Saturday too. That means I’ll have only the evenings and Sundays to do my homework. And that means, well, I think you can guess what I’m going to say next: that means I have to drop out of the BSC. There’s just no way I can remain a member.
* * *
Keep reading those last words over and over. I have to drop out of the BSC. There’s just no way I can remain a member. Bet have read them 50X. What on earth is happening to my beautiful Babysitters Club? Everyone dropping like flies. Dawn and Mal honorary members, which means didn’t actually drop out but basically are gone. Logan quit. Now J. leaving. Unthinkable. Club is down to five members, plus Shannon as associate, which is joke.
Received letter at mail call this afternoon. Now rest period, and A. is reading letter in her bunk. Am waiting for her comments.
A sad, sad day.
Can’t help but think back to when MA, St., Cl., and I first started club. Had no idea what it would turn into. Think of everything that’s happened since then. My mom married; MA’s dad and Dawn’s mom married; D.’s dad married and baby sister for D.; St.’s parents divorced; D. moved back to CA; Mal joined club then left for boarding school; J. joined club, now leaving for ballet school; Mom and Watson adopted Emily; Louie died, then Shannon (puppy) arrived; MA got Tigger; MA got Logan, left L., got him back again, now may want to leave him again; MA learned truth about past and met grandmother; MA’s house burned down; A. arrived in Stoneybrook; trips and mysteries and fights and scares. And of course lots and lots of baby-sitting. Remember very first club meeting when we didn’t even know St. yet. Remember — wait, A. is calling from below.
Back again. Can’t believe A. is entirely supportive of J.’s decision. Says opportunity of J.’s life. Well, it is. I know that. But still. A. missing point. Doesn’t she see what is happening to club? Had following conversation with A.:
A: Kristy, this is such great news!
Me: I know, but —
A: Not many people get an opportunity like this. Jessi is so talented.
Me: Yes, but —
A: It’s so important to follow your dreams. Like, if you discover you aren’t happy or find yourself doing things you don’t really want to do, then you need to make a change. But sometimes that isn’t easy. Good for Jessi.
Me: Yeah. But Abby, what are we going to do without her in the Baby-sitters Club? Logan’s gone now too, and Dawn and Mal.
A: Oh, don’t worry. We’ll manage.
Conversation sort of ended there. Felt as if next words out of A.’s mouth were going to be, “What does it matter anyway?”
Feel depression setting in. Perhaps need candy.
More later.
July 15
Dear Kristy,
Uh-oh, I thought something really great had happened. I thought Grandma had given me courage. See, I’ve had such good talks with her that I decided to try talking with Logan again. I was going to take the bull by the horns (as Dad would say). I even wrote out what I wanted to tell him and then memorized it. I was going to say, “Logan, we’ve known each other for a long time now so I feel I must be honest with you. Lately you seem to be smothering me. I know those are harsh words but they’re true ones, and nothing is more important than the truth. The thing is, I just can’t go on being smothered by you. I’m not a baby and I don’t need to be taken care of. I can take care of myself. I’m a strong person.”
When I reread those words I realized how they sounded. So then I thought that maybe I could soften the blow by saying them to him over dinner. I thought it would be good for him to hear them in a nice, quiet place, surrounded by one of the things he loves best in the world — food. So yesterday I called Logan to ask him out to dinner.
“Hello, Logan?” I said when he picked up the phone.
“Mary Anne! Hi!”
“Hi. Um, Logan, I was wondering —”
“Yes?” (Logan sounded all excited.)
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight. I thought it could be a nice Wednesday night activity. We could go to Renwick’s and get burgers or something.”
“That sounds great.”
“Meet you there at six-thirty?”
“Cool.”
“Okay, see you.”
“See you.”
That was our entire conversation, Kristy. I swear. I didn’t leave out a single thing. So here’s my question. Based on that conversation, would you have thought I was asking Logan on a date?
Apparently, Logan thought so.
When we met at Renwick’s he was carrying a little bouquet of flowers for me. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or to feel like a jerk. So I settled on looking pleased but feeling like a jerk. Even so, I decided to go ahead with my plan.
A waitress showed us to a booth and Logan asked her if she could bring us some water for the flowers. I was all set to hold the bouquet in my lap as it wilted rather than ask for such a favor, but the waitress smiled indulgently at us and returned with a tall glass of water. You could practically hear her thinking how cute we were, out on our date.
When she left I placed the flowers in the water, then turned back to Logan. He was smiling sweetly at me from across the table. “Logan,” I said, “I asked you here tonight because there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Yes?” Logan’s face softened even further. It was about to melt right off his skull.
“See, the thing is,” I began, “um, we’ve known each other for a long time now, so I feel I must be honest with you.”
Logan’s face tightened just the teensiest bit at this, but all he said was, “Yes?” again.
“Lately you seem to
be smothering me. I know those are harsh words but they’re true ones, and nothing is more important than the truth.” Logan was now staring at me from across the table, his water glass halfway to his mouth. I forged ahead. “The thing is, I just can’t go on being smothered by you.”
“Smothered by me?” Logan interrupted, incredulous. And then he said the most amazing thing. He said, “Mary Anne, I thought you asked me out to dinner. I thought this was a date.”
“Well …” I was about to go on with my speech, but I just couldn’t. Logan looked too disappointed. “Never mind,” I said. “We can talk about it later. We better look at the menus. The waitress will be back any second.”
Logan bent his head to study the menu (which we both knew by heart) and by the time he raised it, the waitress was standing at our table. We ordered, then she brought our drinks, then she returned to say that the kitchen had run out of chicken wings, so we had to reorder, and it took a moment for everything to get straightened out. When it finally did and we were alone again, I looked at Logan and he looked back at me with hurt eyes. I didn’t know what to say to him. I couldn’t tell him what I needed to tell him, and I found that I didn’t have any words to make him feel better. Anyway, if I did try to make him feel better then he would miss the point entirely.
It was a horrible dinner, Kristy. We barely spoke to each other. The moment the waitress cleared away our dishes Logan asked for the check. He paid it, we left. Awful.
Your confused friend,
Mary Anne
Thursday
Dear Claud,
I hope you’re sitting down when you open this letter. In fact, if you aren’t, go to the nearest chair and sit in it. Seriously. You are not going to believe what I have to tell you. It is very late at night and I’m writing this in bed under the covers by the light of a flashlight. I could probably turn on the lamp because it’s so late that I’m pretty sure Dad has gone to bed by now, but I’m not taking any chances. Okay, this is what happened:
Dad came home from work tonight and immediately went out to meet Samantha for dinner. This left me at home to eat dinner by myself. (I suppose I could have called Ethan but we would have had to go out to eat, since I’m not allowed to have him over now unless Dad is here, plus we would have had to be back by 9:30. Anyway, I’m trying to save up my hours with Ethan so that I can see him for big chunks of time on the weekends.) So I ate this paltry frozen dinner and tried to work on that glasses case, which frankly just looks like a mass of yarn and knots at the moment. I figured Dad would be out until at least 11:00, so I was surprised to hear his key in the lock shortly before 10:00. He came in looking all nervous and at first I thought maybe he and Samantha had had a fight. But then he sat down on the sofa, his face serious, and said, “Stacey, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Well, then I didn’t know what to think. This didn’t sound like a fight. Dad wouldn’t want to discuss that with me. Maybe he’d spotted Ethan somewhere else and was going to tell me I was now forbidden to see him. My hands were actually shaking a little as I took a seat in an armchair next to the sofa.
“Okay,” I said to Dad.
“Stacey, Samantha and I had a talk tonight,” he began, and it was all I could do not to leap to my feet and cry, “Oh, no! You’re going to get married!”
Instead, I said calmly, “Yes?” (I actually was feeling just a tad calmer, because now I didn’t think this had anything to do with Ethan.)
“And,” Dad continued, “well, as you know, we’ve been seeing each other for a long time now.”
“Yeah?”
“And we love each other.”
“I know.”
“And so we’ve decided …”
This seemed to be so difficult for Dad that finally I said, “You don’t have to tell me. I know. You’ve decided to get married. And you want me to break the news to Mom.”
“You —? Mom —? Oh! Oh, no,” said Dad. “No, we’ve decided to think about living together, about Samantha’s moving into the apartment.”
I was speechless. I had absolutely no idea what to say to that.
“Stacey?” said Dad after a moment.
At last I found my voice. “Living together?” I squeaked.
“Well, yes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“But Dad, you barely know Samantha.”
“Stacey, that’s not true.”
I knew it wasn’t. As Dad said, he and Samantha have been seeing each other for a long time now.
“Well, I don’t think you know her well enough for her to move in here.”
“How well do you think I need to know her?”
“I don’t know. But that’s a pretty big step.”
“Not as big as getting married, which is what you thought I was going to say.”
Dad had a point. But I’m just not ready for any of this, for Dad and Samantha to get married OR for her to move in with us.
“Dad, this is a tiny apartment. There’s no room for an extra person here.”
“Stacey.”
“What.”
“You’re being unreasonable. You know that, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Well, anyway, we haven’t decided anything yet. This is just something we’re thinking about. And I wanted to include you in the decision making.”
“Okay.”
“Really okay?”
“I guess.”
But Claudia, I do NOT want Samantha to move in here. And that’s all I have to say about it. (For now.)
Love,
Stacey
From: CKishi
Subject: Janine brakes rules
To: NYCGirl
Date: Friday, July 16
Time: 8:19:47 A.M.
Hey Stace! Its me Claud. Are you surprize to find this on you’re computer. Beleve me I was surprize to find a computer to write to you on. You’ll be even more surprized when you find out who this computer belongs to. Janine.
Here’s what hapened. Last night we were all sitting around after diner which is what we allways do in the evening. Mom and dad and I were reading. (I was rereading an old papperback Nancy drew that was stuck inside a book I took out of the library here.) Then Janine disapeared upstares. She’s been doing that alot lately. Felling like Nancy, I decided to follow her. I just whanted to see what she was up to.
Well my prayers were answered. The door to Janine’s room was closed but I herd a faint clicking sound coming form inside. So I did something clever I rapped twice very quickly on her door then just went ahead and opened it like she had told me to come in.
Guess what I saw. There was janine seated on her bed and in front of her was her LAPTOP COMPUTTER. As you can imagine, she definitely was not suposed to have brought it to Monhegan. I wondered how often she had used it. Every night? During the day if Mom and Dad and I were out of the house?
Anyway I was gleeful I ran to her bed and sat on it with a plop. I cried Caught you!
Janine blushed hugely then she began stamering. She didnt know what to say. So I said some things insted. You little sneak! You had your computter all along. You went on and on with Mom and dad about back to nature and evrything and —
Janine shushed me. Keep you voice down, she said. Do you want mom and Dad to hear you.
I think the question is do YOU want Mom and Dad to here YOU?
Look, said Janine. If you don’t say anything you can use the computter whenever you want. You can send email to your friends okay.
Email. Now heres my question if there’s no phone here how can we send e-mail. Janin said there are 3 phone jacks in this house. She thinks Mom & dad asked their friends to remove the phones, which means we are only pertending to be back to nature. Ha. Ha.
And that is how I came to be seated at a computer on Monhegan, writing you an email. Janine added my name to her acount so you can write back to me anytime Stace. Now we can alway be upto date on our news. No more waiting for letters to arrive.
>
So … write back when you can.
Love,
Claud
July 16
Dear Mary Anne,
I guess by now you’ve heard Jessi’s news. I mean, I can’t imagine that she wouldn’t have told you. How exactly did she break the news to you? Was she jumping for joy? Was she squealing with excitement? Was she the least bit apologetic for having to drop out of the BSC? What is happening to us, Mary Anne? One by one, our club members are disappearing. (You’re not planning on dropping out for some reason, are you?)
I have to say just one more thing about the club here and then I promise I’ll move onto other subjects. The thing is, I understand what a big job belonging to the club is. I really do. You know that there have been times when I just couldn’t juggle everything — school, homework, activities, and the club. And every now and then I wish I had more time to devote to other activities. But then I think about how much the club means to me. I am so proud of it. It has been such a big part of my life.
Sigh.
I don’t really know where these thoughts are leading. Just wanted to share them with you.
Okay. On to other subjects.
Last night Abby and I had SO MUCH fun. There was this party across the lake, a get-together for the boy and girl CITs. It started when the boys paddled across the lake in all these canoes glowing with lighted candles. We girls climbed into the canoes and the boys took us back across the lake. They were very gallant. (Don’t worry. This isn’t as chauvinistic as it sounds. At the end of the evening, the girls had to paddle themselves home, and this morning we had to take the canoes back to the boys’ camp.) Anyway, Abby and I rode in a canoe with these two guys, Jay and Hal. They were really nice, but … DORKY. Hal kept speaking with this fake British accent that only he thought was funny, and he spit a lot when he talked. He was a very moist person. And Jay did nothing but recite sports statistics. I love sports, Mary Anne, but I do not need to know 1940s batting averages while being paddled across a lake under a starry sky. Abby and I sat together in the middle of the canoe and tried not to look at each other. Every time we did look at each other we would start to laugh and have to look away again.