Dawn and Too Many Sitters

  Stacey is one of the two BSC members with a steady boyfriend (the other is Mary Anne). His name is Robert Brewster. I don’t know him well, but he seems like a nice, smart, good-looking guy.

  So far, all the BSC members I’ve mentioned are thirteen-year-old eighth-graders. Our junior officers, Jessica Ramsey and Mallory Pike, are eleven and in sixth grade. They mainly handle weekend and daytime jobs. Their parents will not let them sit late on weeknights (unless it’s for their own siblings).

  They both complain about that a lot. It’s one of the many things that form their bond of friendship. Another is horses. They’ve read every horse book ever written.

  Mallory has thick reddish-brown hair and pale skin, and she wears braces and glasses. (She’s been lobbying for contact lenses, but her parents say no.) She loves to write and illustrate her own stories and wants to be a children’s book author someday.

  Jessi has chocolate brown skin and medium-length hair she always pulls back into a bun. You should see her dance; she commands the stage. Twice a week she takes ballet lessons in Stamford, the city closest to Stoneybrook.

  Both Jessi and Mal are the oldest kids in their families. Jessi has an eight-year-old sister named Becca and a one-and-a-half-year-old brother named John Phillip, Jr. (Squirt, for short). I already told you that Mal has triplet brothers. What I haven’t told you is that she has four other siblings. Yes, seven altogether. (Can you imagine? It makes Kristy’s family look manageable.)

  Did I mention that the BSC has a boy on its roster? Logan Bruno, Mary Anne’s cute, Kentucky-born boyfriend, is one of our associate members. That means he helps out when we’re overloaded, but he doesn’t have to pay dues or come to meetings (which is fine with him). Our other associate, Shannon Kilbourne, lives near Kristy and attends a private school called Stoneybrook Day School. She participates in a million extracurricular activities there, but she somehow manages to take some sitting jobs.

  You know what? I missed every single one of my BSC friends. And as stupid as my dream was, I felt relieved that they missed me, too.

  “Girls,” Mom said, breezing into the kitchen, “I must attack the mall today for a new bathing suit. I don’t suppose you’d want to come along?”

  “Sure!” I blurted out.

  Mary Anne looked dubious. “Well, I was going to call our friends and ask them to come over.”

  “Invite them to the mall,” Mom said. “I’ll take you all out for a post-breakfast snack.”

  Down the hatch went the herbal tea. My summer vacation was off to a flying start.

  “AAAAAAAAUUGGHHH!”

  Claudia’s scream bounced off the walls of her room. No, she had not run out of Mars bars, or stepped on a tube of expensive oil paint.

  She was just happy to see me.

  As she wrapped me in a big hug, Kristy pretended to clear her ears.

  “That is an outdoor voice, Claudia,” Abby said in her most patient baby-sitter voice.

  To Kristy and Abby, I was already old hat. They’d been to the mall with Mary Anne and me that morning. So had Shannon, Stacey, and Logan. Mary Anne had managed to reach everyone by phone.

  But I had to wait until the BSC meeting to see the others. Claudia had had to take a makeup math final, and Jessi and Mal had been sitting for the Pike kids (plus Jeff, the surprise guest).

  “You look fabulous!” Claudia exclaimed.

  “You, too!” I replied. “How’d the test go?”

  Claudia’s face fell. I cringed on the inside. Great, Dawn. Open mouth, insert foot.

  Then Claudia exploded with a giggle. “Fooled you. I passed!”

  “You sneak!” I cried. “Let’s celebrate.”

  I reached into a bag Mary Anne was holding, and pulled out a huge package of veggie chips and a tub of guacamole we’d bought at the mall.

  Claudia stared at them as if they were a pair of old socks. “Uh … yum. You know, I think I have some Twinkies tucked away, too …” She disappeared into her closet.

  Then I felt something soft land on my head. “Welcome back!” Stacey’s voice called out.

  I reached up and removed a huge, floppy straw hat. “Cool,” I said. “Is this yours?”

  “Nope, a welcome-back present for you,” Stacey said.

  Then all the welcome-back presents came out of the woodwork. A gift box of lotions and soaps from Claudia, a tape mix from Abby, and a basket of natural food goodies from Shannon and Kristy. (Mary Anne, by the way, had given me a gorgeous jumpsuit earlier.)

  Mal arrived with a set of notecards, and Jessi with a beautiful biography of a ballet dancer called Pavlova, which she insisted I lend to her after I was done. Logan gave me a pack of sugarless gum. (I think it happened to be in his pocket, and he felt guilty arriving empty-handed.)

  I was blown away. All my doubts, all the fears that remained from my dream? Going, going, gone.

  “You guys …” I could barely force the words out. My eyes were welling up.

  “Uh-oh,” Logan said. “Open the floodgates.”

  “Stop it, Logan,” Mary Anne said, reaching for a box of tissues. “She was worried we wouldn’t want her back.”

  “Of course we do,” Stacey said gently.

  “We care about you,” Claudia added.

  “We can always use another body for the busy weekends,” Kristy chimed in.

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Kristy Thomas, Miss Sensitivity.”

  “Well, it’s true!” With an exasperated sigh, Kristy pulled her visor from her back pocket and put it backward on her head. “Anyway, welcome, Dawn. I hereby call this meeting of the Baby-sitters Club to order!”

  Claudia’s clock read 5:30. Abby, Stacey, and Claudia sat on the bed. Logan and Mary Anne perched at the edge of the desk. I sank to the floor next to Jessi, Mal, and Shannon.

  “Dues!” Stacey called out.

  “Ugh,” Claudia groaned.

  “So soon?” Mallory asked.

  I had forgotten about the BSC Monday Grumble. It’s a tradition, whenever dues are collected. I reached into my pocket, but Stacey stopped me. “We’ve decided that honorary members are exempt.”

  “By a vote of six to one,” Kristy muttered.

  “Kristyyyy,” Claudia warned.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll start paying when I start working again.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Kristy grinned. “Okay, I have some new business. Watson is taking my family to Hawaii in August.”

  “Lucky,” Stacey said. “Can you take me?”

  “If I can fit you under the seat in front of me,” Kristy replied.

  “Hawaii is an amazing place,” Abby remarked.

  “Have you been there?” Kristy asked.

  Abby shook her head. “Nope, but I’ve seen lots of Hawaii Five-O reruns.”

  “Okay, guys, while we’re on the subject, I have some new business!” Claudia hopped off her bed and reached into one of her desk drawers.

  This is a typical Claudia move. Usually she returns with a huge bag of M&M’S or something. This time, though, she had a glossy brochure. She held it up, showing a collage of travel photos with the words World Tours, Inc. printed at the top.

  “Sometimes it pays to be stupid,” she said. “If I hadn’t had to take that makeup exam, I wouldn’t have seen this. The school is going to mail these out, but I got an advance copy. See, Stonybrook Middle School has made a deal with this tour group. Kids can travel for a big discount, as long as fifty people sign up for each tour, not including teacher chaperones. You have to be ages eleven to fourteen.”

  Kristy took the brochure and started to scan it. “Alaska,” she read aloud, “Quebec, Australia, Greece … this sounds cool.”

  “The first trip is this summer,” Claudia said. “And guess where?”

  “Mexico,” Stacey guessed.

  “Antarctica,” Mallory said.

  “Palo City, California,” Jessi piped up.

  “Downtown Stamford,” Logan remarked.

  “SMS summer school,
” Abby volunteered.

  We all started cracking up.

  Rrrrrrrring!

  Claudia stuck her nose in the air. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell you anon.”

  “Anon?” Abby repeated.

  “A non-what?” Kristy asked.

  Claudia snatched up the receiver. “Hello, Baby-sitters Club at your service. Oh, hi, Mrs. Prezzioso…. Next Monday? I will check the book and call you back anon…. ’Bye.” As she hung up, she said to Kristy, “It means later.”

  “You couldn’t just say later?” Abby asked.

  “Here’s a hint about the trip.” Claudia stood up and began swaying back and forth, swinging her hips and waving her arms.

  “The Bronx Zoo?” Kristy guessed.

  Claudia glared at her. “What?”

  “That was a monkey, right?”

  “No, Kristy!” Claudia said. “It was a hula dancer.”

  “Hawaii?” I cried.

  Claudia nodded. “Can you believe it?”

  “Is it the same time Kristy will be there?” Shannon asked.

  Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think so. It starts July twentieth and lasts ten days.”

  “Nnnno-o-o-o!” Mallory buried her face in her hands. “That’s when I agreed to help Mrs. Stone run a play group at her farm.”

  Mrs. Stone lives in the rural section of Stoneybrook. She has a small farm with a few animals, including a baby goat named Elvira.

  “That’s okay, Mal,” Kristy said. “I’m doing it with you, too, don’t forget.”

  “But you’re already going to Hawaii!” Mallory retorted.

  “Well, I can’t go either, if it’s any consolation,” Shannon said. “I’m leaving for summer camp next week.”

  “And I’m leaving for the Swiss Alps tomorrow,” Logan added.

  Mary Anne looked dumbfounded. “You are?”

  Logan grinned. “Nahhh. Sounds cool, though.”

  “Who let him in here?” Kristy grumbled.

  “You have to sign up at the SMS gym by June twenty-fourth, weekdays between eight-thirty and three o’clock,” Claudia continued.

  “Wouldn’t it be great if we all went?” Jessi said.

  Everyone started gabbing at once. Claudia was practically shouting. But my heart was down around my shoelaces. I’d come all the way out here to see my friends for the summer. Now they’d either be flying out to Hawaii or chasing kids around a farm all day.

  I think Mary Anne was reading my mind. “What about non-SMS students?” she asked.

  Claudia grinned at me. “I asked about that! See, they need a maximum of fifty. SMS students have priority, but if fewer than fifty sign up, they’ll take names off a waiting list of non-SMS students. First come, first served.”

  “So maybe you can come, Dawn,” Mary Anne said.

  A trip to Hawaii? I’d already flown clear across the country. I’d been looking forward to a nice, relaxing New England summer. Did I really want to go back out West so soon?

  You bet I did!

  “Let’s go sign up!” Jessi blurted out. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Phone calls from clients,” Kristy said drily.

  “I can think of one other possible minor obstacle,” Abby spoke up. “Our parents.”

  Stacey nodded. “I’m sure this trip isn’t cheap.”

  “How much does it cost, Claud?” Mallory asked.

  Claudia took back the brochure and read something she’d scribbled in the margins. “Five hundred dollars. Half of it by June twenty-fourth, as a nonrefundable deposit. The other half by July twelfth.” She paused, lost in thought. “That’s not so bad, two hundred twenty-five at a time.”

  “Two hundred fifty,” Stacey corrected her.

  “Ugh.” Claudia turned red. “You know, I really did pass math …”

  “That’s a lot,” Mary Anne said. “We have to be realistic.”

  “Look, we ask our parents at dinner tonight,” Abby said. “Then we call each other and find out who said yes. Then, if we’ve been told no, we can talk about our friends who were allowed to go. Make sure the two sets of parents talk to each other. Put a little pressure on.”

  “We can do it if we stick together,” Claudia declared. “I know it.”

  “Ahem,” Kristy interrupted. “Guys, I think we have some unfinished business — like Mrs. P.’s sitting job?”

  “Oops,” Abby said.

  “Let’s see,” Mary Anne said. “Jessi’s available …”

  As Mary Anne arranged the job, my mind was racing. Would Mom and Dad let me fly to Hawaii after paying for my trip here? It was possible. Dreams do come true.

  Sometimes.

  But I wasn’t putting my bets on this one.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch. My teeth slowly worked the sauteed Chinese vegetables with special sauce. I gave Mary Anne a sidelong glance.

  Her face was a question mark.

  My lips said, “Pass the soy sauce,” but my eyes were telling her, Now, Mary Anne. Now.

  It was time.

  Time for Phase One of the Hawaii Plan.

  During a lull in the BSC meeting, Mary Anne and I had devised a strategy. How to ask the question. Which parent to ask first. What to do if one of them answered no. If both of them answered no. At home we’d quickly drawn up a rough script in the form of a flowchart, then rehearsed it.

  Mary Anne was nervous. She’d thought we were being deceitful. But I pointed out we would tell only the truth. As hopeless as it seemed, we had to give this our best shot. If it worked, Hawaii was ours.

  We had ordered from a Chinese restaurant that night. I’d put in a special request for pineapple chicken. Get it? Pineapples … Hawaii. The power of suggestion.

  “Gee,” Mary Anne began, “I just saw Erica Blumberg, who is going away to summer camp for several weeks.”

  A little stiff, but word-for-word perfect. Yay, Mary Anne.

  My turn. “Oh, wow,” I replied. “That sounds like fun. I guess she was happy to break up the summer a bit.”

  “Yes,” Mary Anne said. “And so were her parents.”

  I nodded. “Sure. They must be happy to have some time for themselves.”

  “Yes, they are. Except they thought that several weeks was too long.”

  “Yeah. Maybe, like, two weeks would be better,” I said in a calm, conversational tone. “Cheaper, too. By the way, how much does it cost to go to a camp like that?”

  “Over a thousand dollars,” Mary Anne said. “And she’s only going to a grubby little camp in Massachusetts!”

  I shook my head and looked rueful. “For much less than that you could go on a ten-day trip to a really fantastic faraway place. Say, Hawaii.”

  “Five hundred dollars? Hmm, that sounds pretty good.”

  I shot her a Look. She’d skipped a line.

  Mary Anne blanched. “I mean, how much would it cost? Uh, like, five hundred dollars or so?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” I quickly improvised. “I’ve heard of just such an opportunity. Imagine being able to go to Hawaii for that cheap, Mom.”

  Mom swallowed a mouthful of stir-fried tofu with broccoli. She looked at Richard. Mary Anne shot me an anxious glance.

  “Are you guys feeling all right?” Jeff asked. “You sound like robots or something. Pass the orange gloppy stuff.”

  Richard the Carnivore passed Jeff the Nuisance a plate of sweet-and-sour pork.

  “Dawn,” Mom said, “you wouldn’t happen to be talking about the school’s trip to Hawaii with World Tours?”

  My jaw hit the floor. Mary Anne’s face resembled a ripe tomato.

  Foooosh! Our flowchart was disappearing down the toilet.

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “A brochure came in the mail today,” Mom replied. “And the answer is, ‘Are you kidding?’ ”

  That didn’t sound too promising.

  “Mo-om!” I said. “It’s only ten days.”

  Mom glared at me. “A hiking trip in northern Connecticut
, yes. A matinee with your family in New York City, yes. A sailing trip on Long Island Sound, yes. But I have just flown you here from California, Dawn Schafer. I had this funny notion I would see you this summer. If you think I will happily pay for you to bounce across the country like a volleyball, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “But it’s a great educational travel opportunity!”

  “Your life is a great educational travel opportunity.”

  “Mary Anne, say something,” I pleaded.

  “Uh, I have to go to the bathroom.” Mary Anne darted away, leaving me in the snare.

  Richard was stroking his chin. “Hawaii, for five hundred dollars? Is that round-trip?”

  “Yes!” I quickly said. “It’s a great deal, isn’t it?”

  “That it is, I have to admit …”

  Aha! A window of hope.

  “Richard, you can’t be serious,” Mom said.

  “Can I go, too?” Jeff asked.

  I shook my head. “Only SMS students. And other kids, ages eleven to fourteen, sign up on a waiting list.”

  “No fair.” Glowering, Jeff stabbed a sauce-drenched hunk of cooked dead pig.

  “Are other kids going, too?” Richard asked.

  “If fifty kids don’t sign up, the trip will be canceled. An opportunity of a lifetime, down the drain.”

  “I am not hearing this,” Mom said.

  “Come along as a chaperone,” I suggested.

  Richard raised an eyebrow. “We could use a vacation, dear.”

  “You’re all crazy,” Mom exclaimed. “My family has gone totally bonkers!”

  “Doo-dooo-dooo-dooooo …” Richard sang a tuneless imitation of a Hawaiian song and started swaying.

  Jeff was howling so hard I thought he’d hurl his sweet-and-sour pork.

  “Stop!” Mom said. I couldn’t tell if she was going to laugh or cry.