Stacey and the Missing Ring
After that, we only got one other phone call, from Mrs. Newton. She’s another of our long-time clients. She didn’t sound any different than usual either. At least, not according to Claud, who had answered the phone. Once that job was set up, it was six o’clock and time for the meeting to end.
Was it just coincidence that we’d had such a slow meeting? There was no way to know. We’d have to wait and see what happened next. I decided to keep my fingers crossed for at least the next few days.
Mary Anne is usually pretty levelheaded when it comes to dealing with difficult kids, so when I started to read her notebook entry, I knew that this Joey must really be something.
But, as she said, her day started off well. She was sitting for the Prezziosos that afternoon. Jenny Prezzioso is four, and she can be kind of a b-r-a-t. She’s used to getting her own way, and she can be very definite about what “her way” means. I think she’s starting to grow out of her spoiled phase a little, though. Ever since Andrea arrived, Jenny’s had to be the big sister.
We were all worried about how well Jenny would handle having a new baby sister. We thought we were in for the biggest case of sibling rivalry in the history of the world. But Jenny surprised us. She adores Andrea, loves to help take care of her, and is one of the sweetest, most gentle big sisters I’ve ever seen.
“Hello, Mary Anne,” said Mrs. Prezzioso, answering the door. “I’m so glad you’re a few minutes early. My meeting time got changed, and I’ve really got to rush if I’m going to make it.”
“No problem,” said Mary Anne. She’s almost always early — all of us are. You never know when parents are going to need a little extra time to tell you something about the kids, or finish dressing, or give you instructions about where to call them in an emergency.
Mrs. Prezzioso was getting her jacket out of the closet. “Andrea’s napping, but she should be up in a half hour or so. And Jenny’s —”
“Hi, Mary Anne!” said Jenny, bounding into the room.
“There’s Jenny now,” said Mrs. Prezzioso. “Good-bye, honey.” She kissed Jenny. “Be good for Mary Anne. I’ll be back soon.” She grabbed her car keys and ran out the door.
Jenny looked excited. She barely seemed to notice that her mother had left. “Guess what! It’s almost my birthday,” she said with a big smile.
“It is?” asked Mary Anne. As far as she remembered, Jenny’s birthday was months away. But kids always seem to think that their birthdays are around the corner.
“Yup!” said Jenny. “And guess how old I’m going to be.”
“Ummm … forty-five?” asked Mary Anne.
“No, silly!” shrieked Jenny, giggling. “I’m going to be thirteen.”
“Now you’re being silly,” said Mary Anne. “I’m thirteen. You’re four.”
“I know I’m four now,” said Jenny. “But on my birthday I’m going to be thirteen.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” said Mary Anne. “I think you might have to try being five, first.”
Jenny frowned.
“Anyway,” said Mary Anne, “I think your birthday is still pretty far away.” She noticed that Jenny was frowning even harder, and decided to avoid a scene. “But how about if we have a pretend birthday party today?” she continued, quickly. “We’ll dress up, and invite all your dolls — and Andrea, too, of course — and have pretend cake and pretend presents. Okay?”
Jenny was jumping up and down with excitement. “A birthday party! A birthday party!” she yelled.
“Shhh,” Mary Anne said. “Let’s try not to wake Andrea until the party’s all ready. Now, let’s find a couple of presents to wrap up.” Jenny cruised around the living room and chose three of her favorite toys: a Barbie (the one she calls “Hospital Barbie” because she got it when Mrs. P. was at the hospital having Andrea), a ratty old clown doll she calls Mr. Bog, and her find-the-picture book.
While she was looking, Mary Anne had found last Sunday’s comics and a roll of tape. “Ready to wrap them?” she asked. They sat on the living room floor and Mary Anne helped Jenny wrap her “gifts.” Jenny became intent on her job. She wrinkled her brow and stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. It was pretty cute, according to Mary Anne. Finally Jenny was done. Covered with a million pieces of tape, but done.
Meanwhile, Mary Anne had cut a cake out of a piece of cardboard. “Want to draw the decorations and the candles?” she asked Jenny. Jenny jumped up to find her crayons.
“Okay,” said Mary Anne. “It looks like we’re ready for our party. What do you want to wear?” They trooped up to Jenny’s room to look over the possibilities. Jenny has quite a wardrobe. Her mother has always liked to dress her up like a “little princess.” She has tons of dresses, all dripping with lace and floppy bows and satin ribbons. She has party shoes in every color and style you can imagine. And she has fancy tights with ruffles on the seat and polka-dot decorations.
In other words, it’s no problem finding something for Jenny to dress up in.
But Mary Anne had to stifle a giggle when she saw what Jenny had chosen to wear to her party. She’d rummaged around in her dresser until she found a faded pair of overalls and a pink-striped sweatshirt that was a little too small. Then she chose a pair of pink sneakers.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to wear?” she asked Jenny, and Jenny nodded firmly. “Okay, then,” said Mary Anne. “Time to wake up Andrea and get the other guests to the party.”
Jenny stayed in her room, rounding up her favorite dolls and stuffed animals. Mary Anne went to Andrea’s room and found her already awake. She wasn’t crying, or even looking unhappy. She was just relaxing in her crib, looking around the room with a big smile on her face.
“You look like you’re ready for a party,” said Mary Anne, picking her up. “As soon as I put a dry diaper on you, that is,” she added, wrinkling her nose. Mary Anne laid Andrea on the changing table, and immediately Andrea broke into a loud wail. Jenny came running.
“Don’t cry, Andrea!” she exclaimed. “We’re going to have a birthday party, and you’re invited.” Andrea continued to cry. “Wait a minute,” said Jenny. She ran out of the room. Two seconds later, she popped back in. This time she was holding a stuffed monkey. “Here, Andrea. Here’s Monkey Matthew,” she said. “Now do you feel better?”
Andrea’s wails grew louder. Mary Anne struggled with the diaper’s plastic tapes, trying to unfasten them. As Mary Anne worked at changing Andrea, Jenny kept running back and forth, bringing toys that she thought would cheer up her sister. It was a nice thing for a big sister to do, said Mary Anne later, but unfortunately, none of the toys did the trick.
Andrea finally stopped crying when Mary Anne finished with her diaper. Then Jenny helped pick out an outfit for her to wear to the party. Andrea’s outfit was a little fancier than Jenny’s. Jenny chose a pink nightgown with lacy trim, and a “princess” crown from the dress-up box.
“She looks so beautiful,” said Jenny. “Maybe it should be Andrea’s birthday that we’re having the party for.”
“Great idea,” said Mary Anne. They headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Mary Anne poured juice for Jenny to have with her pretend cake. Andrea got a bottle. Jenny sang “Happy Birthday” five times for her sister, becoming louder and more off-key with each version.
Then Jenny “helped” Andrea open her presents. Even though she’d wrapped them only minutes ago, Jenny shrieked with surprise as each present was opened.
“These presents are only pretend, though,” she reminded Andrea seriously. “You can play with them for today, but they’re really still my toys.”
Andrea smiled and said, “Glug.”
“You’re welcome,” said Jenny. “Now can we play outside?” she asked, turning to Mary Anne.
Mary Anne nodded. “As soon as we clean up from our party,” she said, picking up the “wrapping paper” and putting the “cake” aside.
It was a beautiful day outside, and Mary Anne relaxed on the porch with Andrea while Jenny pe
rformed “ballet” on the front lawn. Then Mary Anne saw a little boy peeking through the bushes at the edge of the lawn. He was watching Jenny, and it was obvious that he wanted to play. He seemed a little shy, though. “Hi!” Mary Anne called. “What’s your name?”
“That’s Joey, silly!” yelled Jenny. “Hi, Joey! Want to play tag?”
Soon Jenny and Joey were running happily around the yard, shrieking with laughter as they fought over who was “It.” Andrea sat happily in Mary Anne’s lap, watching them play.
Then she grew restless. She squirmed and wiggled and kicked. “Okay, Andrea,” said Mary Anne. “I get the message. You’re bored.” She stood up, holding Andrea, and walked around the yard, singing softly to her.
She walked up and down the side yard until Andrea’s eyes began to close. “Ready for another nap?” she said. “Okay, let’s go inside.” Mary Anne looked for Jenny and Joey, planning to invite them inside, too, but they were nowhere to be seen. Mary Anne’s heart began to pound. How could she have lost two kids? She’d been looking right at them just a couple of minutes ago.
“Jenny!” she called. “Joey!” She walked around to the front door — until she saw something that made her hurry. It was a hose, the garden hose that was usually coiled up behind some shrubbery next to the porch. Only now, it ran from the outside faucet, over the lawn, through the shrubs, onto the porch, and through the front door!
That hose couldn’t be on, Mary Anne said to herself as she ran, holding Andrea carefully. It just couldn’t. She threw open the front door and stopped short. There was Jenny, laughing wildly. There was Joey, holding the hose. And there was water — all over everything. Joey was watering the front hall and its furniture.
Mary Anne was stunned. For a moment she didn’t even know what to say. Then she did. “Joey!” she said loudly. “Get that hose out of the house. Now!” She rushed over to him and guided him out the door. “Now turn off the faucet,” she added, watching him from the porch. Joey ran to the faucet.
“And now,” she said, “I think it’s time for you to go home.” Joey looked at her with big eyes. So far, he hadn’t said a word. He turned to leave the yard. “Wait a minute, Joey,” called Mary Anne. “What’s your last name? I want to call your mommy.”
“Umm,” said Joey. He looked around, pretending not to know it.
“Conklin!” said Jenny from behind Mary Anne. “His last name is Conklin.”
“Thank you, Jenny,” Mary Anne replied. “Good-bye, Joey Conklin.” She walked back into the front hall, still carrying Andrea. “Oh, boy,” she said, looking at all the water. “Oh, boy.”
She spent most of the rest of the day undoing what Joey had done. First, she put Andrea down for a nap, since Andrea had been getting sleepy anyway. Then she called Mrs. Conklin. Then she settled Jenny with some crayons and paper. Then she got out the mop. It was a long afternoon.
“No, I don’t think there was any permanent damage,” said Mary Anne. “Except maybe to my nerves. Can you imagine? Watch out for that Joey.”
The members of the BSC had been talking about Mary Anne’s experience at the Prezziosos’. It was 5:35 on Wednesday, and Kristy had called our meeting to order. Nobody had brought up the situation with the Gardellas, and I was glad. I’d been thinking about it for days, and I needed a break.
Claudia, Dawn, and Mary Anne were sprawled on Claud’s bed, munching on Smartfood. Kristy was perched in the director’s chair, as usual. I was sitting on the floor that day, with my back against the bed, facing Jessi and Mal. They were looking through a book of Claud’s called The Horse in Art.
“Why do you think they call it Smartfood, anyway?” asked Claud. “I mean, how can popcorn make you smart?” She threw a handful into her mouth. “Even if it is incredibly delicious.”
“I don’t think they mean it makes you smart,” said Mary Anne. “I think they mean that you’re smart if you buy it. Because it’s kind of a healthy snack — I mean, compared to Ring-Dings or something.”
“Let me try some,” said Mal. “If there’s any chance that it does make you smart, I should eat a whole bunch. I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t think I’m going to understand any of the questions, much less come up with the right answers.”
At the moment I realized something was wrong. Ordinarily, Kristy would not put up with “non-club” conversation going on for so long. She makes us concentrate on club business between 5:30 and 6:00. But that day she didn’t seem to be paying attention to the chatter that was going on. She was just staring at the phone with this fierce expression on her face, as if she could make it ring.
But it sat there silently.
I started to worry. I didn’t think I could stand it if I had to sit through another meeting where nobody (or hardly anybody) called. I began to stare at the phone, too. And after a little more conversation about the good points and bad points of various kinds of junk food (Claud’s favorite topic), everybody else shut up, too. So there we were, all seven of us, sitting in Claud’s room and staring at a quiet phone.
Then it rang.
“All right!” yelled Kristy. She composed herself quickly and picked up the phone. “Baby-sitters Club,” she said. We watched her carefully as she spoke to the person on the other end. It’s always fun to try to guess who the caller is, just by listening to one end of the conversation.
“Sure, Mrs. Sobak,” Kristy said after a while. “I understand. Wednesday at 4:30. That’s fine.”
Well, we didn’t have to guess anymore. Mrs. Sobak must have been calling for a sitter for Betsy, her eight-year-old daughter. As Kristy hung up, Mary Anne pulled out the record book, a puzzled expression on her face. “Didn’t we already —” she began to ask.
“Yup,” said Kristy. “We did already arrange that job. I was supposed to take it. But Mrs. Sobak wasn’t calling to hire us. She was calling to cancel.”
Everybody gasped. “Cancel?” asked Dawn. “Why?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that I could cover my ears, too. I didn’t want to hear what I thought Kristy was going to say, that Mrs. Sobak had talked to Mrs. Gardella and didn’t want to use our club anymore.
“Betsy’s uncle is coming to town,” said Kristy. “And Mrs. Sobak wants Betsy to have a chance to visit with him. He’s going to take her to the zoo that afternoon.”
I let out a breath. “Really?” I asked. What a relief.
“Well, that’s what she said,” answered Kristy. She sounded a bit doubtful. “Who knows if that’s the real reason?”
My stomach flip-flopped. I felt so guilty, even though this wasn’t really my fault.
“Do you think the real reason could be that Mrs. Gar —” began Mal, but Jessi elbowed her in the ribs.
“Shhh,” she said. “Don’t even say it.”
Everybody was quiet again after that. And the phone was quiet, too. I was beginning to feel sick to my stomach. Our meetings are usually so much fun, but this one was a disaster.
“This is the worst,” said Dawn suddenly. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” said Kristy. “But you know what? I was thinking last night that this club has been through some pretty bad times before, and we’ve always managed to come out on top. I’m sure we’ll work out this problem, too.”
She sounded pretty certain. I wasn’t so confident.
“What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to the club?” asked Jessi. She looked interested. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”
We thought for a minute.
“It was when —” began Mary Anne.
“It must have been —” said Dawn at the same time.
“You go ahead,” said Mary Anne.
“No, you,” said Dawn. “You’ve been in the club longer.”
“Well,” said Mary Anne. “I was going to say that the worst time I remember was when we had that humongous fight and none of us was speaking to the others. Remember?”
Kristy, Claudia, and I all nodded. “Boy,
do I remember. Believe it or not,” I said to Jessi, “we were all so mad at each other that we couldn’t even stand to be in the same room. So instead of having meetings —”
“We each took turns sitting here alone answering the phone!” finished Kristy. “Oh, that was so ridiculous.”
“What was the fight about?” asked Mallory.
“Well, that’s the funny part,” said Kristy. “I was thinking about it last night, and I couldn’t even remember.”
“I remember,” said Dawn quietly. “I wasn’t in the club yet, but that fight happened right before I joined. In fact, Mary Anne and I met because she had nobody to sit with at lunch! I was new in town, so we were both feeling lonely. Of course, I didn’t know at first that she did actually have friends, but that she wasn’t speaking to any of them at the time.”
“So what was the fight about?” asked Jessi.
“Well,” said Dawn, “it had to do with the way we sometimes used to take jobs without checking first to see who was available.”
“Job-hogging!” yelled Claudia. “Now I remember. And Mary Anne told us all off. Can you believe it?”
“That’s right,” said Kristy. “Job-hogging. But then we kept getting madder and madder at each other for all kinds of other reasons, and by the time we were finally ready to make up, we couldn’t even be sure who needed to apologize to whom for what.”
“So we had a group apology,” I said. “Want to show them what we did?” I asked the others. “Ready? One, two, three —”
“I’m sorry!” Claud, Kristy, Mary Anne, and I chorused at once. Then we cracked up. We were laughing so hard that we almost didn’t hear the phone ring. Jessi grabbed it.
“Hello?” she said. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Addison, how are you?” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she went on, looking glum. “I hope you both feel better soon. Thanks for calling.” She hung up and looked around the room.