Dawn's Big Move

  To tell you the truth, I did feel awful about leaving the club. But I didn’t expect Kristy to react that way.

  “Kristy,” I said, “I’m not doing this to hurt you guys. I wouldn’t dream of it. I tried to explain. I have to go. It’s the most important thing in my life right now.”

  “Hey, don’t worry,” Claudia reassured me. “We’ll figure out what to do.”

  Kristy just glared at her.

  “Look,” I said quickly, “I have thought about this. I know you’ll have to replace me temporarily, and I promise I’ll help solve the problem before I leave. It’s the least I can do.”

  RINNNNGG!

  The sound of the phone was such a relief.

  “Hello?” Claudia said, snatching the receiver. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Hobart…. Okay, I’ll call back in a minute.”

  She hung up and said to Mary Anne, “A week from Wednesday? Everyone wants a sitter for that day.”

  Mary Anne nodded. “Parent-teacher conferences at SES.” (That’s Stoneybrook Elementary School.) She looked up from the BSC record book and said, “Well, we’re all busy, but I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind. He loves the Hobart kids. I’ll call him if you want.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Claudia said with a sly smile.

  “Maybe he’d want to be my replacement while I’m away,” I added.

  “Logan definitely prefers being an associate,” Kristy said. “Besides, remember when we did ask him to be a permanent member? It didn’t work out too well.”

  Kristy was right. Once I’d gone to California for a few weeks when Jeff had gotten sick, and Logan had become a regular member. But apparently Logan’s football teammates had made his life horrible with teasing and practical jokes.

  “Besides,” Kristy added, “if Logan or Shannon became a regular member, then we’d be short an associate member.”

  “Well, it’s better than nothing,” I said.

  Mary Anne had already gotten through to Logan on the phone. She explained the situation to him, mentioned the Hobart job, and asked if he would replace me. Then her face became very solemn. “Mm-hm … I know … it must be … well, that would help…. Uh-huh, I’ll tell them. ’Bye.”

  She hung up and turned to Kristy. “He says he’ll sit for the Hobarts, but football practice is getting really intense now, so he couldn’t be a regular member.”

  Oh, well. One down. “I’ll call Shannon,” I said.

  She was home, too. I filled her in and asked her the big question.

  “I wish I could,” was her response. “But I’m starting this after-school tutoring project, for the honor society. It’s going to last at least two months. But maybe after …”

  Two down.

  Kristy wasn’t too jolly about the news. “I don’t want you to feel guilty, Dawn,” she said, “but this is going to be a big mess.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Mary Anne spoke up. “I mean, how often is every single one of us busy?”

  “A week from Wednesday,” Kristy quickly replied.

  “Kristyyyy,” Stacey joined in. “That’s so rare. We hardly ever have to turn away work. I think we’ll be able to survive without a seventh full member for a while.”

  I could tell everyone was avoiding the obvious other possibility. So I brought it up. “What about taking in a new member?” I asked.

  “You mean, like, temporarily, while you’re gone?” Jessi asked.

  “Well … yeah,” I said.

  “Not to replace you,” Mary Anne added. “We would never do that.”

  She flashed a glance at Kristy, but Kristy only said, “It’s not easy getting new members.”

  “Dawn was a new member once,” Claudia pointed out brightly.

  “So were Janet and Leslie,” Kristy replied. (Those were two members who didn’t work out well, back before I joined the BSC.) “Besides, what do we do with the new person after six months? Kick her out?”

  “Look,” Stacey said, “we don’t have to solve this problem right now. Dawn’s not leaving for three weeks. Let’s enjoy her while she’s here.”

  “Oh!” Claudia blurted. “I think I have some popcorn rice cakes.” She hopped off her bed and started rummaging around in her dresser drawers.

  Kristy sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that we’re getting very busy.”

  As if to prove Kristy’s point, the phone began ringing — and it hardly stopped until six o’clock. In between we talked about a few other things, like Run for Your Money preparations and Jessi’s upcoming trip to Oakley.

  But the mood remained pretty tense. It was hard not to think about my decision and how it affected everybody. Leaving Stoneybrook was getting more complicated than I expected.

  Five days had passed since I’d mentioned my trip in the BSC meeting. Kristy was no longer quite so snarly. In fact, she apologized to me and wished me luck.

  Now that my trip was a reality, I had started to pack. Well, sort of. I’d opened up a couple of suitcases on my floor and thrown a few clothes in.

  The truth? Somehow now I wasn’t as excited as I had been. I guess the reality of my trip was sinking in. My head was spinning with questions. Was it selfish to abandon the BSC — and Mom and Mary Anne and Richard — for six months? Why was everyone acting so upbeat about my decision lately? Were they secretly glad I was going? What if I hated living in California?

  Anyway, while I was pondering these questions, Kristy was helping the Papadakises on the day of their reunion. Mr. Papadakis’s two sisters were coming from New York with their families. Mrs. Papadakis’s two brothers and one sister were coming with their families. Plus a bunch of other cousins and aunts and uncles and friends Kristy had never heard of.

  Kristy arrived at their house early, to take care of the kids while the Papadakises set up for the party. The Papadakises have a huge yard. There’s a basketball court in the driveway and a badminton area by the garage. On this day, behind the house were dozens of card tables, covered with paper tablecloths and disposable place settings. In the air was a pungent, mouth-watering barbecue smell. Mr. Papadakis was putting a tape deck and loudspeakers on the back porch. Kristy approached him to say hi, but something made her stop in her tracks.

  Off to the right, at the edge of the woods behind the Papadakises’ house, were four barbecue pits in the ground. Above each one was an animal carcass on a rotating spit.

  I am so glad I wasn’t there. I think I would have tossed my crackers. Kristy, who isn’t fazed by much, was a little grossed out, too.

  “Delicious, huh?” Mr. Papadakis called out. “Those are lambs, fresh from the farm! You have never tasted anything so tender. Here, let me cut you some before the guests arrive.”

  “No!” Kristy said, almost shouting. “I mean, maybe later. I had a late breakfast.”

  “I’ll save you some pieces,” Mr. Papadakis insisted.

  “Hi, Kristy!”

  Hannie and Linny came running out of the house. (Hannie’s seven and Linny’s nine.) They were followed by two-year-old Sari, who toddled out with a little moon-face smile. “Kiss-tee!” she squealed.

  “Hello!” Mrs. Papadakis chimed in, backing through the door with two tinfoil-covered trays. She set them on a picnic table and smiled at Kristy. “Our special spanakopita and tiropita. Want to sneak a piece?”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll go play with the kids,” Kristy said. She didn’t know what would be peeking at her from under that foil.

  Before long Kristy was really working. Linny fell and cut his knee. Hannie dropped a glass when she went in the kitchen. Sari kept wanting to play near the barbecue pits.

  When the guests started to arrive, Mr. Papadakis turned on the tape deck. This loud, exotic music blared out, with a strong beat and a guitarlike instrument, which Mr. Papadakis called a bouzouki. (Kristy liked the bouzouki but thought the singers sounded as if they had indigestion.)

  Well, the Papadakis family turned out to be absolutely humongous. Kristy counted five Nikos, four Alexandras, three Pet
ers, two Marias, two Takis, and a Gus. Fortunately a lot of them were too old to need sitters (including fifteen-year-old Niko who was extremely cute, according to Kristy).

  So you can imagine Kristy’s surprise when some of the neighborhood kids decided to wander over.

  “Linny! Hannie! Hi!” Bill Korman yelled.

  He and his sister Melody ran into the yard, all wide-eyed. (Bill’s nine and Melody’s seven.)

  “Uh, guys,” Kristy said. “I don’t know if Hannie and Linny have permission —”

  “Heyyy! Welcome to the party!” Mr. Papadakis’s voice boomed out. He trotted over to Bill and Melody and said, “Are you hungry? Would you like to try some lamb?”

  Melody made a face. “Do you have Triscuits?”

  “Melody!” Bill scolded. “Be polite.”

  “Triscuits coming right up!” Mr. Papadakis said, running into the house.

  When he returned, with Triscuits and Wheat Thins and Teddy Grahams, Kristy’s brother and stepsiblings appeared.

  “Karen! Andrew! David Michael! Good to see you!” Mr. Papadakis said.

  “Yum! Teddy Grahams!” Andrew answered. (He’s four; Karen and David Michael are seven.)

  “Sit and enjoy,” Mr. Papadakis went on, putting the boxes on one of the card tables. The kids gathered around like flies around honey.

  Eight charges. For any other baby-sitter, that would be a lot. For Kristy, it was an opportunity.

  She was looking around, trying to figure out a way to organize a soccer game, when Linny said, “Hey, Kristy! Can we practice for Run for Your Money?”

  Perfect. Even though I’m sure Kristy would have thought of it herself (hrrmph). “Sure!” she said. “What’ll we start with?”

  “Basketball shooting!” the Korman kids screamed.

  “Bang bang!” Sari said.

  Linny ran into the garage and got two basketballs. “I shoot first!” he bellowed.

  “No way!” David Michael protested. “We’re guests!”

  “Let’s make teams,” Kristy suggested. “How about the Papadakises and Andrew against the Kormans and Karen and David Michael —”

  “We’ll cream ’em,” Linny said.

  Bill stuck out his chest. “No, you won’t!”

  “Beanpole!” Linny said.

  “Cootie head!”

  As they argued, a couple of the older cousins grabbed the basketballs and started playing.

  After lots of crying and some general pandemonium, Kristy explained Run for Your Money to everyone. Well, the Papadakis cousins loved the idea. The trouble was, they didn’t live in Stoneybrook or Lawrenceville. But that didn’t stop them. After basketball, the kids held a massive three-legged race that ended up almost toppling the food table. Sari wanted to join in, so Kristy tied her leg to a Cabbage Patch doll’s leg.

  Out came the cameras. I believe Sari will be haunted by pictures of that event for the rest of her life.

  Next, Kristy set up a game of horseshoes for the kids. Of course, Linny wanted to take the first turn.

  He lifted a horseshoe and began spinning his arm around. “The windup …”

  “Linny,” Kristy warned, “this isn’t baseball!”

  “And … the …”

  “Linny!” Kristy tried again.

  “ … Pitch!” Linny let go of the horseshoe too late — way too late. The horseshoe went flying toward the house.

  “Heads up!” Kristy shouted.

  Everyone looked around in confusion. The horseshoe came hurtling downward.

  Plop! It landed in a plateful of gooey pastries.

  “My baklava!” Mrs. Papadakis yelled.

  “Oooops,” Linny muttered.

  A roar of laughter went up. “Hey, it’s good luck!” one of the aunts called out.

  After a couple more events, it was naptime for Sari. Then Kristy and the kids ate some food (by the way, she said the lamb was delicious, but that’s a carnivore for you). After that came dessert and some Greek dancing to wild music. The guests joined hands and snaked around the yard.

  By the time the party was over, Kristy was exhausted (yes, Kristy). She said good-bye to the Papadakises and walked home with David Michael, Karen, and Andrew.

  I found out much later what they talked about after the party — me!

  “Kristy?” Karen said. “Are you sad about Dawn?”

  Kristy nodded (at least she said she did). “Yeah. I’m going to miss her.”

  “You know what we did when Amanda Delaney moved away?” Karen asked. “I gave her a party. You should do that for Dawn. It was really fun.”

  “Yeah!” Andrew and David Michael said.

  Kristy’s eyebrows rose. “Hmmmm. Not a bad idea.”

  She ran to the phone. First she called Mary Anne, then Mallory, then Claudia, then Stacey. She almost called Jessi, until she realized Jessi was in Oakley for the weekend.

  Everyone agreed. The party was a great idea.

  And poor little old me didn’t know a thing about it.

  “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Kristy said to Jessi.

  “Yes,” Jessi replied. “You’ve asked me that a million times.”

  Jessi was exaggerating. Our Monday meeting was only about five minutes old. But she had spent those five minutes under her own little storm cloud. She was sitting on Claudia’s floor, staring out the window, her knees drawn up to her chin.

  We had already paid our weekly dues and taken a phone call. Claud was busy distributing goodies.

  “Claudia, these are absolutely disgusting,” Stacey suddenly said, holding up a plastic bag of cookies.

  “Yeah?” Claudia took the bag and read it: “ ‘Chock Full of Chakra Macrobiotic Dessert Snacks … active ingredients: comfrey leaves and kelp, sweetened with barley malt and raisin juice.’ ”

  “Ew!” Mallory said.

  “What’s kelp?” Mary Anne asked.

  “Tiny green fish that swim through your bloodstream and eat bacteria,” Kristy replied with a straight face.

  “Really?” Claudia looked horrified.

  Stacey groaned. “Don’t listen to her.”

  Kristy just grinned.

  I had to admit, even for a natural-foods freak like me, those cookies were pretty horrible.

  Yes, I ate one. In fact, we actually passed them around for a tasting. Have you ever seen anyone turn green? Mary Anne did. Mal refused even to look at them. Claudia scraped off a teeny layer of one with her teeth, and brave Kristy gobbled a whole one down. Then they both devoured a box of Raisinets to get rid of the flavor.

  When the bag was passed to Jessi, she didn’t notice it at first. She was still staring out the window.

  “Here,” Kristy said. “Your turn.”

  Jessi shook her head and waved the bag away.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Kristy said. “You’ve been grumpy since you got here.”

  Jessi made a face and frowned.

  Fortunately, Mary Anne decided to use a little more tact. “Jessi, how was your trip?”

  Jessi sighed. In a mumbly voice, still looking out the window, she said, “Pretty terrible.”

  “Uh-oh,” Claudia said. “What happened?”

  Finally Jessi opened up. “Well, I get there, right? And Keisha has this new haircut and is wearing makeup. We say hi and everybody goes inside for lunch. Then the bell rings and it’s this new friend of hers named Jennifer, who is wearing so much perfume I can’t breathe. Jennifer says, ‘Is she going dressed like that?’ Meaning me. It turns out they go to the mall every Saturday to hang out, all dressed up.”

  “And your aunt and uncle let her go, even though she had company?” Stacey asked.

  “No,” Jessi replied. “They told her she couldn’t go, and Jennifer made this face, like they were being soooo horrible. And Keisha got really upset. She and Jennifer whispered things together out on the porch for a half hour while I just sat around. My aunt finally told Keisha to say good-bye and come back in — and then Keisha wouldn’t even talk to anyone the whole
rest of the afternoon.”

  “You’re kidding,” Mary Anne said. “How rude.”

  “Well, since she was being so weird, I asked if I could take a walk to visit my old ballet school. I invited Keisha to go, but she said no. Anyway, it turns out my teacher divorced her husband and moved to Ohio to go to law school or something. The school is now an aerobics center, and the new teacher wouldn’t even let me in the door. So then I walked by my old house — and they were chopping down these two beautiful maple trees out front. Those were my trees! I used to go to sleep on summer nights listening to the leaves rustle outside my bedroom window. Some guy with a chainsaw said the trees were blocking the power lines. So I went back to Keisha’s, all upset — and she was mad at me because I got to go out and have such a fabulous time.”

  “Ugh, what a nightmare,” Mal said.

  “How about Sunday?” Claudia asked.

  “After church we had a big roast chicken, and the Raymonds came over. They’re old friends of my family.”

  “Well, that sounds nice,” Mary Anne said.

  “Except for the fact that Neil Raymond, their son, who used to be kind of dorky and shy, is now sixteen and gorgeous. Well, he kept talking about himself the whole time — like how many touchdowns he was scoring, which vitamins he took, the best kind of white socks to wear. Boring! And of course, Keisha acted as if he was just fascinating. Later we joked about him and Keisha seemed a little friendlier. But by that time we had to leave.”

  “You need some special TLC,” Claudia said. She reached under her bed and pulled out another box. “How about a Ring Ding?”

  Jessi laughed and took one. “Okay. They look better than those other things you were passing around.”

  “You know, going back to your old town can be weird,” Stacey said. “Everything changes. The last time I went to New York, it didn’t even feel like my neighborhood. My very favorite restaurant had become an ugly clothes boutique, and this old movie theater was being torn down to make an apartment building.”

  “Not to mention Laine,” Claudia said.

  “Right!” Stacey replied. “You can’t even count on your old friends.”