Claudia and Mean Janine

“Hi, you guys,” I said.

  Mary Anne, the most sensitive of all of us, must have been able to tell I was upset just by looking at me, because she immediately said, “What’s wrong, Claud? Are you all right?”

  “Can you guys come here for a sec?” I replied. “I have to tell you something.”

  My friends all know Mimi well, since the meetings of the Baby-sitters Club are held at my house. Kristy and Mary Anne know her really well, just because the three of us have grown up together, but Mary Anne is especially close to her because her own mother died years ago. The news was going to upset them all.

  Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran to me.

  “What is it?” asked Stacey.

  “I have bad news,” I said, “and I thought you should know right away. Mimi had a stroke last night.”

  Mary Anne gasped, and Dawn gripped her hand.

  “She’s okay,” I said quickly. “I mean, she can’t move, but she’s breathing, and the doctor said it’s possible she can make a good recovery. We just have to wait and see.”

  Everyone except Mary Anne relaxed a little. “Can we visit her in the hospital?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  I shook my head. “Not yet, anyway. She’s in intensive care. Maybe when she’s moved to her own room in a different wing.”

  Mary Anne’s lower lip began to tremble.

  “Hey!” I said. “I just had an idea. The kids could make get-well cards for Mimi today. Most of them have at least met her.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Kristy chimed in. “We’ll combine an art project with … with …”

  “With learning to care about others,” said Dawn. “Perfect. The parents will love it. And more important, Mimi will love the cards.”

  We felt cheered, and rushed around getting the last things in order. Just before nine o’clock, Kristy gathered us together and said, “I thought we should have a schedule for the day—a loose one. Since it’s the first day, we’ll just sort of see how things go. Anyway, if this is okay with you guys, I thought we’d start off with an hour and a half when the kids can do whatever they want. Then we’ll have music for about twenty minutes, then our snack” (we’d bought canned juice and saltines) “then stories—maybe one for the older kids and another for the younger ones—and then a group thing, like a game of hide-and-seek or something. If there’s any time left before twelve-thirty, they can just play on their own again.”

  That was Kristy, always in charge. We agreed that her plan sounded good.

  “And,” continued Kristy, “I think I know who our first kid is going to be.”

  “Who?” we asked.

  “David Michael.”

  “David Michael!” I exclaimed. “That’s great, but why is he coming over? He’s got your brothers and your mom, and besides I thought he’d had enough of kids after the week with your cousins over at your house.”

  “He had,” said Kristy, “but Sam and Charlie have summer jobs, and Mom’s trying to get the house packed up. Besides, there may be some boys his age here. Nicky Pike or someone.”

  “Well, fine,” I said. And at that moment, David Michael walked uncertainly into the McGills’ backyard, clutching five dollars in one fist.

  Shortly after David Michael arrived, Charlotte Johanssen came over. Then Mrs. Newton walked Jamie over.

  And then Mallory Pike showed up with her brother Nicky and her three sisters, Claire, Margo, and Vanessa, plus Suzi and Buddy Barrett and Jenny Prezzioso.

  “Mom told me I could help you,” Mallory said proudly. “So I started by walking the kids over. I told them about crossing streets and stuff.”

  “That’s wonderful,” said Kristy.

  “What should I do now?” asked Mallory.

  Kristy explained the schedule to her. “Why don’t you just kind of keep an eye on the kids while they’re playing? You know, stop any fights, or suggest things to them if they seem bored.”

  “Okay.”

  Now, before I tell you about the trouble that Jenny caused, I should mention how the kids were dressed that morning. Most of them were dressed kind of like Kristy and Mary Anne—in T-shirts and shorts or blue jeans. Suzi Barrett was wearing a faded sundress and Claire was wearing short overalls over a striped shirt. Every last one of them was wearing sneakers.

  Except for Jenny Prezzioso.

  Jenny was wearing a pale pink, spotlessly clean party dress with puffed sleeves and white smocking across the front. On her feet were lacy white socks and pink Mary Janes.

  The very first thing that happened that morning was that Jenny skidded in her Mary Janes and fell on her knees. I have to admit that for just a second I was more worried about the grass stain on the hem of her dress than I was about her knees.

  “Wahh!” wailed Jenny, not even crying real tears.

  “Why don’t you take your shoes and socks off?” I suggested. “It’s a nice warm day. You won’t slip so much in bare feet.”

  “No,” said Jenny stubbornly. “I want to look pretty.”

  “But when you fell down you got dirt on your dress. See?” I pointed to the grass stain.

  Jenny looked at it, considering. Then she looked at her shoes.

  “I don’t want to take off MY PINK SHOES!” she screeched, her voice growing louder with every word.

  “Okay, okay, okay.”

  But that was just the beginning. Jenny didn’t know how to share. She wouldn’t cooperate with the other children. She said she wanted to play by herself, but when the other kids left her alone, she complained bitterly.

  “Nobody likes me,” she wailed. She was sitting at a picnic table making a get-well card. She lowered her head onto her arm, the picture of despair.

  A blue crayon rolled across the table, heading for her lap.

  I dove for it and caught it before it landed on her dress.

  “But, Jenny, you said you didn’t want to play with them,” I pointed out.

  “Well, I do now!”

  “So go play.”

  “I can’t. I’ll get my dress dirty.”

  I rolled my eyes. Jenny was what Mimi would call “a trial.” But apart from Jenny, the kids had fun at the play group that morning. And they made a total of nineteen cards for Mimi.

  That afternoon I baby-sat for Jamie Newton and his baby sister, Lucy, while Mrs. Newton ran errands and went to a club meeting. I was glad I had so many things to do. Being busy kept my mind off Mimi.

  I loved taking care of Jamie and Lucy. The Newtons had been practically the first clients of the Baby-sitters Club. But Jamie was the only little Newton at the time. Then Lucy was born. All of us club members had wondered how Jamie would react to a new baby in the house. We were sure he’d be jealous. And he was a little bit, but only sometimes.

  Now, the Newtons were planning a big party for Lucy’s christening. The party was coming up soon.

  “Look at this stuff. Look at all this stuff,” Jamie said to me after his mother had left. He led me into the dining room. “Mommy is getting ready to give a party, a big one. And it’s all for her.” Jamie nodded his head toward the second floor, where Lucy was taking her afternoon nap.

  The Newtons did seem to be getting ready for a very large party. The dining room table was covered with boxes of crackers, cans of peanuts, tins of candies, stacks of napkins; plus glasses, silverware, plates, a punch bowl and cups, serving spoons, and more.

  “You know what?” I said. “When you were Lucy’s age, your parents gave a great big party after your christening.”

  “They did?” Jamie brightened. Then he frowned. “But I don’t remember it!” he said loudly.

  “Shh.” I put a finger to my lips. “The baby—”

  “I know,” said Jamie sullenly. “The baby is sleeping.”

  Uh-oh, I thought. This doesn’t look good.

  But when Lucy woke up a little later, Jamie was the first to hear her crying. He leaped up from the floor, where we were playing a hot game of Candy Land, and ran to her room. I followed.
When I caught up with him, I found him standing by her crib, one arm between the slats, patting her on the back and saying softly, “Claudy’s here. Claudy’s here. You can stop crying now, Lucy. Claudy’s here.”

  It was a nice scene. I filed it away in my memory.

  I got Lucy dressed and gave her some juice, and then I suggested that we take a walk. Jamie wanted to go over to my house. He likes my art supplies, but he also likes Mimi, and I think what he really wanted was to see for himself that she was actually gone. I wasn’t sure how much “in the hospital” meant to him.

  So I put Lucy in her stroller, and we walked to my house. “Is Mimi here?” asked Jamie as I was unlocking the front door.

  “Nope. Remember—I said she’s in the hospital. She’s sick.”

  Jamie mulled that over and went on to a different subject. “Is anybody here?”

  “Just us,” I told him. “Want to look at my paints?”

  Jamie shook his head. “Let’s play outside.”

  I sat on the lawn and played with Lucy while Jamie turned somersaults in the grass. Presently, a car pulled up and Janine got out.

  “Bye!” she called to her carpool. “See you tomorrow!”

  Jamie ran over to me as the car drove away. “Who’s that?” he whispered.

  “That’s Janine, my sister. You know her.”

  Jamie decided she was safe. “Hi-hi,” he said to Janine.

  “Hello, Jamie,” she replied. She looked at Lucy and me. “Hi, Claudia…. Oh, look at you, Lucy. You’re so big!”

  “How was school?” I asked.

  Janine sat down and began playing pat-a-cake with Lucy. “It was very exciting,” she replied. “Physics and astronomy are a fascinating combination of science—”

  “Janine!” I exclaimed, irritated.

  “What?” She let go of Lucy’s hands.

  “I don’t believe you!” I exploded.

  “What?” Janine said again. She stood up.

  I stood, too, and we faced each other.

  Jamie looked on with interest.

  “You didn’t even ask about Mimi,” I accused her. “Or about Mom.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance. You inquired how school was. Besides, I know how both of them are. I phoned Mom from the campus this afternoon. There’s no appreciable difference in Mimi. And Mom’s … well, she’s all right.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I repeat—you did not give me a chance.”

  “Janine, you are so mean!”

  Janine glared at me. Then, to everybody’s surprise, I actually raised my hand as if to hit her, but I dropped it quickly. (Jamie was now wide-eyed with fascination. He was looking back and forth between Janine and me.)

  Janine shook her head. Then she stomped into the house.

  “Mean Janine,” I muttered. “Come on, Jamie. Let’s go.”

  Janine had spoiled my whole afternoon.

  When I finished at the Newtons’, I ran home and just made it in time for the meeting of the Baby-sitters Club. I found Kristy and Mary Anne waiting on the front stoop, their chins in their hands.

  “Why aren’t you guys inside?” I asked. “You know you can always go to my room if I’m late.”

  “We didn’t think anyone was here,” said Kristy gloomily.

  “Well, you’re almost right,” I said. “The only one here is Janine.”

  “No Mimi,” said Mary Anne.

  “Nope. No Mimi,” I said.

  The Monday afternoon meeting of the Babysitters Club was sort of glum.

  “What are we going to do about Jenny?” I asked when everyone had arrived. I searched my hiding places and found a bag of gumdrops, which I passed around.

  “She does cause problems,” agreed Mary Anne.

  “She starts fights with the other kids,” Stacey pointed out. “Sometimes she doesn’t even mean to, but she does anyway. By not sharing or something. I saw Claire Pike ask Jenny for a red crayon that she wasn’t using. When Jenny wouldn’t give it to her, Claire got mad, turned around, and whacked Suzi Barrett.”

  “If we could at least get her mother to dress her in play clothes, it would be helpful,” said Kristy. “One of us should talk to Mrs. Prezzioso.”

  “Yes, one of us should,” I said pointedly. We all looked at Mary Anne.

  “Me?” she squeaked.

  “You’re the only one who likes her,” Kristy said bluntly.

  Mary Anne made a face. “But she doesn’t have any real play clothes. I know that for a fact. Maybe we should just make her wear one of the painting smocks all morning.”

  The phone began to ring then, and we stopped to set up some appointments. By the time we’d finished, we’d half forgotten about Jenny.

  “You know what would usually happen right about now during a meeting?” Mary Anne asked. She went on without waiting for an answer, “Mimi would come in for some reason—to ask us if we needed anything, or to remind us not to eat too much before dinner.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think I’ll call Mom at work and see if anything’s going on.” Kristy has this rule about not making personal calls during club meetings, but I knew she’d let me break it. I didn’t even bother to ask if it was okay.

  I picked up the phone and dialed my mother’s office at the library.

  “Hello!” called a voice.

  “Mom?” I asked.

  “Claudia?”

  “Mom?”

  “Hey, dope, your mom’s home!” Kristy said, nudging me in the ribs and grinning.

  I dropped the phone. “Mom?” I could hear her coming up the stairs.

  My mother appeared in the doorway. “Hi, girls,” she said. She looked awfully tired.

  “How’s Mimi?” I asked right away.

  “Good news. She just woke up. She can’t move or speak yet, but she’s awake.”

  “All right!” exclaimed Kristy.

  “Can I see her?”

  “Yes. Family members may see her one at a time for about ten minutes each. We’ll go back to the hospital after supper. Speaking of which, Claudia, I’ll need your help with supper tonight. I’m afraid we’ve all gotten awfully used to having Mimi take care of us.” Mom began to sound sort of teary again.

  The meeting broke up soon after that, and I joined my mother in the kitchen. “Where’s Janine?” I asked. “Can’t she help, too?”

  “Oh, I didn’t even bother to ask her,” replied Mom distractedly. “I’m sure she’s busy with her schoolwork.”

  And what did my mother think the Babysitters Club was, I wondered. A game? But I didn’t say anything. I looked through the freezer. “Here are some frozen French fries. And here are some hamburger patties. We could heat these up.”

  “Fine,” said Mom. “Help me make a salad, honey. Then we’ll be ready.”

  After our makeshift dinner, Mom and Dad and Janine and I drove to the hospital. The closer I got to Mimi, the more worried I became. All I could think about was the mean way I had behaved. I clutched the nineteen get-well cards in my hands and kept hearing my ugly words over and over again, and Mimi’s quiet voice telling me good night. She hadn’t called me “my Claudia,” so she really must have been hurt. What would I say when I saw her?

  “Mom, can Mimi hear us?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s a silly question,” said Janine.

  Dad glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “I’d be interested in your answer, Dr. Kishi,” he said.

  “The answer,” said Janine, “is, of course she can hear us.”

  “According to the neurologist, the answer is, we think she can hear us, but we’re not sure how well.”

  “Oh,” said Janine quietly.

  “Why did you want to know, Claudia?” Dad asked.

  “I … I just wanted to be sure she could hear me when I—when we talk to her.”

  We drove on in silence.

  At the hospital, Mom and Dad led Janine and me to Mimi’s room.

  Mom went in first, looking as nervous as
a cat.

  “Can I please go in next?” I begged, when she came out.

  “May I,” Janine corrected me, glancing warily into the room. I ignored her. I don’t think she was even aware that she’d said it.

  “Sure,” Mom answered me. “Watch the clock on the wall, honey, and stick to the ten-minute time limit. The nurses are strict about that. And don’t be frightened. There’s a lot of equipment in the room. Just remember that it’s there to help Mimi.”

  I crept into the room. It was dim and quiet except for the hum of machinery. Mimi was hooked up to a couple of things with TV screens on the fronts. There were no pictures on the screens, though. Just lighted dots that kept zigzagging from one side to the other. Next to her bed was a stand with a plastic sack of clear liquid at the top. A tube ran from the sack down into a needle that was stuck into Mimi’s wrist. I shuddered.

  Mimi looked like a little doll lying in the metal bed with the scary machines around her.

  I tiptoed over to her bed. “Mimi?” I whispered. Mimi’s eyes were open, but she wasn’t quite looking at me.

  “Mimi?” I whispered again.

  Nothing. The same dull stare. It was spooky. Too spooky. I couldn’t stand her eyes. So I backed away. I backed all the way out of the room, knocking into the wastebasket as I went.

  “Claudia?” said my mother. “Are you all right?”

  “You go, Janine,” I said, ignoring Mom’s question.

  I stood by the doorway holding the nineteen get-well cards, and watched Janine. Mom stood right behind me with her hand on my shoulder.

  I saw Janine’s face as she took in the machines. I saw her eyes widen as she took in Mimi’s blank stare. But Janine stayed where she was. She began talking to Mimi just as if they were sitting across from each other over cups of tea. She talked quietly to her for the full ten minutes. I wish I could have heard what she was saying.

  When Janine came out, Mom looked at me, wordlessly asking if I wanted to go in again.

  I shook my head. Then, tears welling up in my eyes, I fled down the hall to the lounge and sat in front of the soda machines until it was time to go home.

  The next evening, we went back. I’d spent all day talking to myself, saying things like, “Don’t be selfish” or “Don’t be a baby. Mimi needs you.”