The Fire at Mary Anne's House

  Sure enough, the sunroom was a quiet haven. My dad and Sharon were already there, eating breakfast and talking quietly. They stopped suddenly when they saw Dawn and me, and switched to making plans for the day.

  Or tried to, between interruptions. First David Michael and Emily Michelle wanted to present us with the picture they’d created. Then Karen and Andrew turned up. They told us they’d made up a play about the brave firefighters to perform for us. Then Nannie popped in to ask what we’d like for dinner. David Michael came back to give us another picture. Kristy showed up to tell us she’d organized the BSC members into two-hour shifts for the day, some working at the house and some volunteering to sit for parents who would be working at the house. David Michael and Emily Michelle burst in partway through her visit to give us a rendition of “Jingle Bells.” Sam stopped in to check on whether we’d prefer cheddar or Swiss on our sandwiches.

  And so on.

  Finally, we finished breakfast and headed over to the house. It was still a shock to see the burned-out shell as we turned into the driveway. “Well, at least the tarps held,” my dad said as we climbed out of the car.

  We began to strip off the tarps and fold them, since the weather report was calling for a sunny day. As we worked, neighbors and friends arrived and offered help. Jessi arrived with a huge tray of fruit her mom and aunt had put together, and Claudia brought a platter of cookies.

  The firefighters had set up a ladder for access to the part of the house that was less burned. They had brought down some salvageable things, such as Dawn’s bureau.

  Dawn examined it, then jiggled open a drawer. She peered inside. “Wow,” she said, with a whistle. “Check it out.” She lifted out the top layer of clothing, which was completely blackened with smoke. Then another, lighter gray. And finally a bottom layer that looked almost normal. She held a shirt to her nose. “Stinks, though,” she reported.

  We worked for hours, digging, carrying, and cleaning. The only high point was when I found my pearl necklace. It used to belong to my mom, and my dad gave it to me on the day he married Sharon. Finding it was a thrill, even though the pearls were covered in soot. But by the end of the day, we didn’t have a whole lot else to show for our labors. The fact was, there just wasn’t much to save.

  I still hadn’t found any pictures or letters. And I just kept thinking of more things I’d lost in the fire. Silly things, like my Cam Geary collage, and sad things, like my favorite picture of Dad and me, the one in which I’m riding on his shoulders (I was two, I think).

  I think he felt discouraged too. “Let’s call it a day,” he said finally, when he and Sharon and Dawn and I gathered beneath the apple tree to compare notes. “I think we all need some rest. Tomorrow morning, when we’re feeling a bit better, we’ll have a family conference. It’s time for us to talk about what happens next.”

  “No! Don’t open that door!” Karen came screeching around the corner just as Sharon was about to usher us into the sunroom. It was Sunday morning, and we’d finished eating the huge pancake breakfast Watson had cooked for us. It was time for our family meeting.

  “Why not?” Sharon asked, pausing with her hand on the doorknob.

  “Emily Junior’s in there,” Karen explained. “It’s her weekly exercise, when she has time out of her cage.”

  “Emily Junior?” Sharon asked.

  “She’s a rat,” I whispered.

  Sharon jumped away from the door.

  “She won’t hurt anybody,” Karen promised. “You can still go in there. Just be careful not to let her out, or Daddy will be mad.”

  “She’s a pet rat,” I explained. “She’s really kind of cute.”

  “Rats are rats,” Sharon said firmly. “We’ll find another place to meet.”

  Kristy’s house may be enormous, but it was starting to feel like very close quarters. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to turn for privacy or quiet time. The sunroom had been our last hope for a meeting place, since every other room in the house seemed to be full of busy, noisy Thomases and Brewers.

  Kristy and Watson were in the kitchen, clanging pots and pans around happily as they cleaned up after breakfast.

  The dining room was taken by Kristy’s mom and Nannie, who were using the big table to organize plates, silverware, blenders, and toasters that had been donated to replace our stuff. Emily Michelle was “hepping” them.

  David Michael was in the den, watching cartoons at full volume. Sam and Charlie, who’d slept even later than the rest of us and had missed breakfast, fixed huge bowls of cereal and joined him.

  Andrew was sprawled near the bottom of the stairs, playing with his action figures. “Eeeoowgh!” he narrated loudly as he crashed them into each other. “Wheeoooo!”

  I love Kristy’s family, but I was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed by them.

  I think Sharon and my dad felt the same way. Dawn too. The four of us stood outside the sunroom, exasperated.

  “Should we just use our bedroom?” Sharon asked my dad.

  He shook his head. “I’m sure we’ll be interrupted there.”

  “I know,” I said. “There’s a new playhouse in the backyard. Maybe if we sneak out there quietly, nobody will find us for a while.”

  “Fine with me,” said Sharon.

  “I’m game,” said my dad.

  I led the way to the playhouse. One by one, we ducked to go through the small door. Inside were four colorful child-sized chairs around a child-sized table. We each took a chair and perched on it. I almost burst out laughing at the sight of my father on his miniature yellow chair. But something stopped me. I guess it was the serious look on his face. He still looked tired too.

  “Well,” he said, putting his hands on the table. “Here we all are.” He gazed around at each of us. “I just want to say how grateful I am that we’re all safe and sound.”

  “I second that motion,” said Sharon, reaching out to hold hands with Dawn and me.

  “I third it,” Dawn added with a smile.

  “It’s unanimous,” I said.

  My dad nodded. “It really is the most important thing. I know we’re reeling from what’s happened, but after all, we still have one another.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “That’s something that won’t change. We’re a family, no matter what.” He glanced at Sharon. She nodded encouragingly. Dad took a deep breath and went on. “But —”

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Dad rolled his eyes. “Who is it?” he called.

  “It’s me, Kristy. Can I come in?”

  Dad sighed. “Sure,” he said.

  Kristy opened the door and entered. She was carrying a tray loaded with a pitcher and four glasses. “Watson and I saw you head out here. We thought you might like some lemonade,” she explained.

  “That’s very sweet,” said Sharon.

  “Kind of tart too,” said Kristy. “Get it? Tart, like lemons?” She looked around and realized none of us was laughing. “Well, anyway,” she said. “I’ll just leave this with you.” She put the tray down and backed out of the door. “Sorry to interrupt!” she called as she left.

  Sharon poured glasses of lemonade and passed them around. “Go on, Richard,” she said. “You were in the middle of a thought.”

  “Right,” said my dad. He looked a little uncomfortable, and suddenly I began to wonder just what this family meeting was going to be about.

  “You were saying how we’ll always be a family,” Dawn reminded him. “No matter what.”

  Dad nodded. “I was about to go on and say that perhaps we should look at this fire as creating an opportunity.”

  “What?” I asked. “Opportunity? The fire ruined everything.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “Let him explain,” Sharon said, patting my arm.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Sometimes an event like this can open the door to change,” he said. “It can be a time to rethink things, to chart new courses.”

  Dawn looked interested. “What new
courses do you have in mind?”

  Dad cleared his throat again.

  And just then, there was another knock at the door. David Michael stuck his head in. “Watson sent me,” he said. “There’s a phone call for Mr. Spier. It’s from his insurance agent.”

  My dad let out a sigh. “Can you ask Watson to tell her I’ll call back?”

  “Sure,” said David Michael. He ducked out — then stuck his head back in. “When?” he asked. “When will you call back?”

  “Soon.” I could tell Dad was making a big effort to sound patient. He checked his watch. “In about an hour.”

  David Michael gave him the thumbs-up sign and disappeared.

  “Dad, what are you talking about?” I asked. I felt my stomach flip over. “Aren’t we just going to rebuild the house?” I’d never given a moment’s thought to any other plan.

  “Let me back up,” he said. “First of all, there are a couple of things you should know. For one, Sharon has been feeling very dissatisfied with her job lately.”

  That wasn’t news to me.

  “She’s even been thinking about a career change,” Dad went on.

  “Really?” Dawn asked, turning to her mom. “Cool. What do you want to do?”

  Sharon smiled. “I’m thinking about architecture,” she answered. “Or possibly interior decorating.”

  “Excellent!” cried Dawn.

  “But what does that have to do with the fire?” I asked. “I mean, I think it’s great too. You shouldn’t have to be unhappy with your job. But what —?”

  “I’m not sure I can find the kind of courses I’d need to take here in Stoneybrook,” Sharon explained. “I would probably have to go to a bigger college.”

  “Like in Stamford?” I asked.

  Sharon glanced at my dad.

  “Okay, here’s the second thing you should know.” Now he was looking me straight in the eye. “Last week I was offered a job. An amazing job. It’s an opportunity I never thought I would have.”

  “But?” I asked. I knew a “but” was coming.

  “But it’s in Philadelphia.”

  I was stunned.

  “Philadelphia?” repeated Dawn. She looked surprised too. “You mean, in Pennsylvania?”

  Dad nodded.

  “So you’re moving?” she asked.

  “Thinking about it,” my dad corrected her. “Nothing’s been decided, nothing at all. It’s just something I’d like us all to talk about.” He was still looking at me. “Mary Anne? What do you think?”

  I shook my head. I was speechless. How could he even consider leaving Stoneybrook? Like me, he’d lived here most of his life. Stoneybrook was home.

  “I never thought I’d want to live anywhere but here,” he said, as if he were reading my thoughts. “But for a job like this, I would consider it. And Sharon could attend an excellent college.”

  But what about me? I felt like shouting.

  “Last week, when I was offered the job, I thought it was out of the question. But now, after the fire, I’m thinking about it again. Maybe this is a chance for us to start over again.”

  But I don’t want to start over again, I thought. All I wanted was for none of this to have happened. I wanted to be back in my own home, with my own things around me. I wanted to know that life would go on the way it had always gone on.

  First my house and most of my possessions had been destroyed. Now my father was talking about moving away from the town where I’d spent my life. “This feels like — like the end of everything,” I said finally.

  Sharon reached out to touch my hand. “It’s not an end,” she said. “It’s a chance for a beginning.”

  “Sharon’s right,” my dad agreed. “This could be the start of a wonderful new life for us.”

  Dawn was nodding as if she understood.

  I sat back in my chair.

  Had my whole family gone crazy?

  By the time my family meeting ended, Kristy had left the house for a volunteer sitting job with the Rodowsky boys. (Jackie has two brothers: Shea, who’s nine, and Archie, who’s four.) She knew Claudia was going to be sitting for Matt and Haley Braddock that afternoon, and the two of them had arranged to bring all the kids to the Stoneybrook Elementary School playground. Kristy and Claudia were tired from all the work they’d been doing at my house, so they figured it would be a good idea to take the kids to a place where they’d be able to entertain themselves.

  Kristy arrived first, and the boys ran for the playground equipment. Archie grabbed his favorite swing, while Shea and Jackie headed for the jungle gym. They climbed up to the highest bars, calling for Kristy to watch as they swung from bar to bar.

  “I’m watching, I’m watching,” Kristy called back, wincing as Jackie nearly fell, then caught himself. “Take it easy, Jackie.”

  Soon, Claudia arrived with Matt and Haley. Haley’s a smart nine-year-old who does a great job of interpreting for Matt, who communicates mostly in American Sign Language. (He’s the boy who found Jake Kuhn when he was lost.) We’ve all learned a little ASL (Jessi’s actually learned a lot), and Haley is truly fluent.

  As they approached Kristy, Matt’s hands were flying. “Matt wants to know how Mary Anne is doing,” Haley said. “I do too. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Kristy told them. “Really, she is. I mean, she’s upset about her house burning down, but she’s not hurt. Not at all.”

  Haley signed to Matt. He looked relieved.

  “But what about her house?” Haley asked. “Where are they going to live?”

  “I don’t know,” Kristy admitted. “I think they’re trying to figure that out.” At that point, she had no idea what had been said at our family meeting, but she knew something was up. “I wish they’d stay with my family forever, but I doubt that will happen!”

  “Is Mary Anne sad?”

  That was Jackie. He and his brothers had stopped playing in order to greet Matt and Haley.

  Kristy nodded. “Yes, she’s very sad. It isn’t easy to lose your house and all your things.”

  Jackie looked somber.

  His younger brother, Archie, looked frightened. “Is the fire all out?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes!” said Claudia. “The firefighters put it out, Archie. Don’t worry about that.” She reached out to give him a reassuring hug.

  “I keep telling him so,” said Shea, “but I guess he doesn’t believe me.”

  “He’s just scared,” Claudia explained. “It’s understandable. Fire is a scary thing.”

  Kristy and Claudia talked for a while longer with their charges and promised to take them on a trip to the fire station someday soon. Finally, the kids seemed satisfied with what they’d heard. They ran off to swing and climb, leaving Claudia and Kristy to sit and talk.

  “Poor Mary Anne,” said Claudia, shaking her head. “She still seems to be in shock.”

  “I know,” said Kristy. “And I don’t know what else to do for her. I just want her to know we’re all here for her if she needs us.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Then Kristy sighed. “I keep thinking about that contest we were going to enter. It would be so great to win! But I’ve tried and tried to write that essay, and I can’t seem to make it work. It has to be in the mail tomorrow.”

  Claudia gasped. “I almost forgot about that! And I’m sure Mary Anne did. What about the history? Even if you could finish the essay, we’ll never pull everything else together in time.”

  “What essay? In time for what?” Jackie had grown tired of the jungle gym and had reappeared near the bench where Claudia and Kristy were sitting.

  “It’s for the Baby-sitter of the Year contest,” Kristy explained. “You know, the one Charlotte was gathering testimonials for.”

  “Oh, right,” said Jackie. “I gave a good one.” He smiled proudly.

  “You sure did,” Kristy agreed. “And we’re grateful for it. But if the BSC wants to win this contest, we need more than testimonials.”

  “Wh
at else do you need?” Haley had joined them as well.

  “A lot.” Kristy groaned. “An essay on why we like baby-sitting, plus a history of our baby-sitting experiences. Mary Anne was supposed to write that.”

  “So who’s going to do it now?” Haley asked.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Claudia. “It would take me a month to do something like that. And the spell checker on my computer would probably blow a fuse.”

  “I don’t think computers have fuses.” That was Shea. By now, all the kids had regrouped around Kristy and Claudia.

  “Microchip, then. Whatever.”

  “But the BSC deserves to win the contest!” Haley exclaimed. She looked at Matt, who was signing. “Matt says you guys are the best sitters ever. And we all agree. Isn’t there some way we can help?”

  Suddenly, Jackie started to jump around. “I know, I know!” he yelled. “We can do it. The kids you sit for!”

  “Do what?” asked Kristy, puzzled.

  “Write the history of your club!” he said. “I mean, we were there for all of it, weren’t we?”

  Kristy and Claudia exchanged amused glances. “Well, sure, but —” Kristy began.

  “He’s right!” Haley said slowly, interrupting. “We were there. If all your charges worked together, we could tell the whole story.” She looked thoughtful. “When does it have to be done?”

  “Tomorrow,” Kristy answered.

  Haley was taken aback. “Tomorrow?”

  Kristy nodded. “So it’s nice of you to offer, but obviously there’s no way —”

  Haley wasn’t listening to her. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” she said, signing simultaneously so Matt would be in on the plan. “Let’s go over to our house. We can use the computer there….”

  Haley was on a roll. Claudia and Kristy could only watch openmouthed as she talked.

  “We can call the other kids and ask them each to write a part of it. We’ll help the ones who are too young to write. Then we can put it all together into one piece. What do you think?” She looked around at the other kids.

  “Yay!” they shouted. Matt gave her a big thumbs-up, a sign everyone understood without translation.