Claudia and the Sad Goodbye Part 1

Claudia and the Sad Goodbye.

Martin, Ann M.

Chapter 1.

"Mimi! I'm home! I'm home, Mimi!"

"h.e.l.lo, my Claudia."

My grandmother greeted me at the door when I got home from school. She kissed my forehead and smiled crookedly at me. Mimi is one of my favorite people. She is a second mother to me.

I dropped my book bag and gym shoes on the floor in the hall. Mom or Dad or even my big sister, Janine, would have looked from my stuff to the stairs, as a silent reminder to take the things up to my bedroom instead of leaving them lying around. If that had happened, I would have left the things for ten minutes or so before I took them to my room, to show my family that they can't all boss me around just because I'm the youngest and not a very good student.

But Mimi didn't say anything about dropping my school stuff on the floor. She didn't even look at it. So I immediately picked it up and ran to my room. When I came downstairs again, I found Mimi in the kitchen, fiddling with cups and a tin of tea leaves.

"Special tea, my Claudia?" she asked me.

"Oh, yes!" yes!" The day was perfect for special tea. For one thing, it was raining. Outside the window there was nothing but drizzle and dreariness, which I don't mind at all. I love mysteries - and drizzle and dreariness are a good backdrop for any mystery. Also, I didn't have any after-school activities planned. Usually I have a baby-sitting job or an art cla.s.s, but that afternoon I was free. Most important, special tea with Mimi is wonderful any time. The day was perfect for special tea. For one thing, it was raining. Outside the window there was nothing but drizzle and dreariness, which I don't mind at all. I love mysteries - and drizzle and dreariness are a good backdrop for any mystery. Also, I didn't have any after-school activities planned. Usually I have a baby-sitting job or an art cla.s.s, but that afternoon I was free. Most important, special tea with Mimi is wonderful any time.

What is special tea? Special tea is when my grandmother prepares j.a.panese tea and serves it in cups with no handles that she brought with herwhen she moved from j.a.pan to America. Then she and I sip thetea and talk, just the two of us.

Mimi likes to prepare special tea completely " by herself, even though this is difficult for her now, since she had a stroke last summer and can't move around as easily as she used to. In fact, she can't use her right hand at all. Speech is difficult for her, too. Plus, she's been just plain forgetful lately, and has said and done some pretty weird things. But this day seemed to be a good one, and special tea went smoothly.

It is usually as soothing as Mimi herself.

"So, my Claudia," Mimi began (and I should tell you that I am the only one Mimi calls her her someone), "how school was?" someone), "how school was?"

"Oh, okay. I didn't do so well on that math test."

"How not so well?"

"A C-minus?" I answered with a question, as if I weren't sure sure that was the grade I'd gotten. But it was. One point lower and it would have been a D-plus. that was the grade I'd gotten. But it was. One point lower and it would have been a D-plus.

"Oh," said Mimi. "Well. Studied. Studied hard. I remember. Next better time." That garbled message meant that Mimi remembered that I had studied hard with the help of my dad and my big sister, Janine, who is a genius, and that no doubt I would do better on my next test.

"Thanks, Mimi," I replied, smiling. "Guess what I did did get a good grade on. That history composition," I answered for her. get a good grade on. That history composition," I answered for her.

"The one I help?"

"Yup. The one you helped me with."

"What grade?"

"B ... plus!" I said grandly.

Mimi beamed. She had given me the idea to write a composition on a period in j.a.panese history, but she had really helped only a little. I had done most of the work myself.

I sipped my tea.

I looked at my hands holding my cup, and at Mimi's hands holding her-cup. My hands were smooth and creamy-colored and steady. Mimi's were wrinkled and brown like walnuts, and they shook. Mimi is my mother's mother and she's getting pretty old.

As you have probably guessed, Mimi is j.a.panese. She came to the United States a long time ago, when she was thirty-two. Her husband was j.a.panese, too, so of course my mom is j.a.panese. And so is my dad. Janine and I consider ourselves not just j.a.panese, but j.a.panese-American, meaning that we're full-blooded Asian but we've lived all our lives in the U.S. Actually, we've lived all our lives here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. And Mimi has lived all of my my life in Stoneybrook, because her husband died after Mom and Dad got married, so she moved in with them. Both of my parents were working. They were doing different things then, but now Dad is a partner in an investment firm in Stamford, Connecticut,. life in Stoneybrook, because her husband died after Mom and Dad got married, so she moved in with them. Both of my parents were working. They were doing different things then, but now Dad is a partner in an investment firm in Stamford, Connecticut,.

which is nearby, and Mom is the head librarian at our public library. Anyway; when my grandfather died, Janine the genius had just been born, so Mimi's moving in seemed like the perfect arrangement. My parents could work, and Mimi could help with the house, watch Janine, and not miss her husband quite so much. Three years later, I was born, and there was Mimi to help raise me. Mimi is my friend and the person who understands me the best in the world, even better than my friends.

I smiled at Mimi over our tea cups and she set hers shakily on the table. "No more talking of school," she said. "Tell me art. Sitting for babies." (She meant baby-sitting.) So we talked about my art and baby-sitting. And I poured the tea when Mimi's hands shook too much, and helped her with words she couldn't remember.

At last Mimi said, "I start dinner. Now. What do you?"

"I think I'll go upstairs and work on my painting."

Mimi nodded. I left her in the kitchen and went to my room.

I hate school. But here is what I love: reading mysteries, especially Nancy Drews; baby-sitting; art. Not only do I love art, I'm good at it. Really good at it. And thank heavens for that. I better be good at something since Janine is so smart in school. How smart is she? She's smart enough to be a high school junior who takes courses at a college in Stoneybrook. That's right, a college. college. When I say she's a genius, I mean it. Her I.Q. is, like, nine million or something. We used to sort of hate each other, but as we grow up, we get along much better. For one thing, we've been worried about Mimi a lot lately, and that's brought us closer together. Worry and fear can do that. When I say she's a genius, I mean it. Her I.Q. is, like, nine million or something. We used to sort of hate each other, but as we grow up, we get along much better. For one thing, we've been worried about Mimi a lot lately, and that's brought us closer together. Worry and fear can do that.

I looked around my messy room. My room is only messy because I have to keep so many art materials stored in it. I like painting, drawing, pottery, sculpture, crafts, and more. So I've got an easel and paints and charcoals, and boxes and boxes of stuff everywhere. everywhere. My current project is a painting. I'm trying something new. I think of it as "stop-action." Imagine that you're watching a movie on a VCR - a movie with a lot of action - and in the middle of a really exciting scene, you press the pause b.u.t.ton. That's how I wantedthis picture to look - as if time had halted and people had been stopped with spoons halfway to their mouths, or a dropped object in midair,, or a My current project is a painting. I'm trying something new. I think of it as "stop-action." Imagine that you're watching a movie on a VCR - a movie with a lot of action - and in the middle of a really exciting scene, you press the pause b.u.t.ton. That's how I wantedthis picture to look - as if time had halted and people had been stopped with spoons halfway to their mouths, or a dropped object in midair,, or a bird about to land on a branch, its feet just inches above it, its wings still outstretched.

I paused in my painting and looked out the window and across the street. I could see Mary Anne's house dearly. Mary Anne Spier is one of a group of my friends who have formed a business called the Baby-sitters Club. I'm the vice-president of the club. Mary Anne is the secretary, and our president is Kristy Thomas. Besides us, there are three other members; plus two a.s.sociate members (I'll explain about them in a minute), and one member in New York City. (I'll explain about her, too.) Our club meets three afternoons a week, and although our members are very, very very different people, we get along well. We're like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Put us all together and we make a great picture. different people, we get along well. We're like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Put us all together and we make a great picture.

Let me tell you about my friends, beginning with Kristy, since she's the president. Kristy started the club herself. It was her idea. That's an important thing about Kristy. She's full of ideas. She's also outgoing, sort of bossy, a tomboy, and has a big mouth. Okay, a huge mouth. She's thirteen and in eighth grade, like me and most of the club members. She doesn't care much about clothes or makeup yet. Sometimes, she'll put on a little mascara, but that's it. And she always wears the same kind 'of outfit: jeans, a turtleneck, a sweater, and running shoes. Kristy has brown hair (longish), brown eyes, and is the shortest kid in our cla.s.s. Her family is pretty unusual. Her mom and dad got divorced a long time ago. She has three brothers - two big ones in high school, and David Michael, who is seven. Then her mom married this millionaire (no joke). Watson has two little kids of his own, Karen, who's six, and Andrew, who's four. And And recently her family adopted Emily Mich.e.l.le, a two-year-old Vietnamese girl. Then there's Kristy's Nannie, her grandma, who's really neat and decided to move in with them and help care for Emily. The whole family lives in Watson's mansion on the other side of Stoneybrook. (Well, Karen and Andrew only live there every other weekend and for two weeks during the summer. The rest of the time they live with their mom and stepfather, not too far away.) recently her family adopted Emily Mich.e.l.le, a two-year-old Vietnamese girl. Then there's Kristy's Nannie, her grandma, who's really neat and decided to move in with them and help care for Emily. The whole family lives in Watson's mansion on the other side of Stoneybrook. (Well, Karen and Andrew only live there every other weekend and for two weeks during the summer. The rest of the time they live with their mom and stepfather, not too far away.) As I mentioned before, I'm the vice-president of the club. You already know a lot about me, except for a few things. I'm addicted to junk food. Mom and Dad don't really like me to have it, so so I have to buy it secretly and hide it around my room. It's everywhere. Despite I have to buy it secretly and hide it around my room. It's everywhere. Despite all the junk I eat, my complexion is pretty nice. Smooth. My friends are always saying I'm so lucky because I don't get pimples. Here's what I look like besides my complexion: dark, almond-shaped eyes and long, long long silky, black hair that I wear all different ways. And I dress on the wild side. Kristy's outfits and mine are like night and day. Here's an example: At the moment I'm wearing lavender plaid cuffed pants with suspenders over a green s.h.i.+rt with b.u.t.tons down the front, a matching lavender beret (and silky, black hair that I wear all different ways. And I dress on the wild side. Kristy's outfits and mine are like night and day. Here's an example: At the moment I'm wearing lavender plaid cuffed pants with suspenders over a green s.h.i.+rt with b.u.t.tons down the front, a matching lavender beret (and not not just because I'm at my, easel), and fleece-lined, high-top sneakers which I must admit are uncomfortably hot, but they just because I'm at my, easel), and fleece-lined, high-top sneakers which I must admit are uncomfortably hot, but they look great. look great. Also, I've got on earrings shaped like Christmas tree lights that actually blink on and off. I'm not sure why I chose to wear them, since it's nowhere near Christmas, but I love jewelry, like to make my own sometimes, and have pierced-ears. (Kristy doesn't. Doesn't have pierced ears, that is.) But I have three - two holes in one ear, and one in the other. Also, I've got on earrings shaped like Christmas tree lights that actually blink on and off. I'm not sure why I chose to wear them, since it's nowhere near Christmas, but I love jewelry, like to make my own sometimes, and have pierced-ears. (Kristy doesn't. Doesn't have pierced ears, that is.) But I have three - two holes in one ear, and one in the other.

Our club secretary is Mary Anne, who lives across the street. Kristy is one of her best friends. They used to live next door to each other, until Kristy's family moved to Watson's house. Mary Anne is not much like Kristy at all. They sort of ill.u.s.trate the saying about opposites attracting. Mary Anne is shy and reserved. She's very romantic, cries easily, and hates sports. She's also the only one of any any of us club members to have a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno, and he's one of the a.s.sociate members of the Baby-sitters Club. Mary Anne and Kristy of us club members to have a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno, and he's one of the a.s.sociate members of the Baby-sitters Club. Mary Anne and Kristy do do look a little alike, though. Mary Anne also has "brown hair and eyes and is oh the short side. She used to dress kind of like Kristy, too, but lately her outfits have become trendier. However, Mary Anne doesn't have, and never will have, pierced ears. Mary Anne's family is the smallest of any of the club members. It's just her and her dad. Mrs. Spier died a long time ago. Mary Anne has no brothers or sisters, but she does have a gray kitten named Tigger. look a little alike, though. Mary Anne also has "brown hair and eyes and is oh the short side. She used to dress kind of like Kristy, too, but lately her outfits have become trendier. However, Mary Anne doesn't have, and never will have, pierced ears. Mary Anne's family is the smallest of any of the club members. It's just her and her dad. Mrs. Spier died a long time ago. Mary Anne has no brothers or sisters, but she does have a gray kitten named Tigger.

Dawn Schafer is the treasurer of our club. Dawn moved to Stoneybrook with her mother and younger brother, Jeff, about a year ago when her parents got divorced. Mrs. Schaferchose Stoneybrook because she grew up here and her parents still live here, but the move was a shock to Dawn and Jeff since they they grew up in California. In fact, it was so much of a shock to Jeff that eventually he moved back to California to live with his dad. So now half of grew up in California. In fact, it was so much of a shock to Jeff that eventually he moved back to California to live with his dad. So now half of Dawn's family lives here, and the other half lives three thousand miles away. Thank goodness Dawn's grandparents are in Stoneybrook. Dawn is the most independent person I know. She's reliable and responsible and organized, but she does things her own way. She never gets swayed by what anyone (or everyone) else is doing. She has her own style of dress, which we call California casual, and she sticks to a 'total health-food diet, even though some of the kids at school tease her about the weird stuff she eats, and the fact that she won't touch candy or junk food. Dawn lives in an old farmhouse with a secret pa.s.sage (and maybe a ghost) in it, she has the longest, blondest hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen, and she's Mary Anne's other best friend. (Her mom and Mr. Spier go out on dates sometimes!) Our club has two junior officers, Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike. While the rest of us are in eighth grade, Jessi and Mal are eleven and in sixth grade. That's why they're junior officers. They're only allowed to baby-sit after school or on weekends; not at night unless they're sitting for their own brothers and sisters. Jessi and Mal are best friends. Like Kristy and Mary Anne, they're similar in some ways and different in some ways. The biggest difference is that Jessi is black and Mallory is white. Also, Jessi has just one younger sister and brother, and Mal has seven seven younger sisters and brothers - and three of the boys are identical triplets! Both girls like to read, especially horse stories, and both feel that their parents aren't letting them grow up fast enough. But Mal loves to write and draw and might want to become a children's book author, while Jessi is a talented, and I mean younger sisters and brothers - and three of the boys are identical triplets! Both girls like to read, especially horse stories, and both feel that their parents aren't letting them grow up fast enough. But Mal loves to write and draw and might want to become a children's book author, while Jessi is a talented, and I mean talented, talented, ballet dancer. They're really neat, even if they are a little less mature than the rest of us club members. ballet dancer. They're really neat, even if they are a little less mature than the rest of us club members.

Oura.s.sociate, officers are Shannon Kilbourne and Logan Bruno. They don't come to our meetings and no one except Kristy knows Shannon very well because she lives way across town in Kristy's ritzy neighborhood, and doesn't go to Stoneybrook Middle School with the rest of us. We do know Logan, though, and if you were to ask Mary Anne to describe him, all she'd say is, "Incredible." She would mean good-looking, nice, thoughtful, funny, etc., and he is those things. I like him a lot, but no one knows him better than Mary Anne does.

There's one other person I feel I should tell you about. She's only sort of a club member, but she is is my best friend: Her name is Stacey McGill, and she lived in Stoneybrook for just about one year. She and her parents had lived in New York City, then her dad's company transferred him here, then, after one year, back to New York. Weird, huh? But it was lucky for me, because if none of that had happened, I'd never have met my first and only best friend. Stacey was a club member, of course. And she and I are so much alike. We couldn't look more different, but we both love wild clothes and I guess we're a little boy-crazy. Stacey has diabetes, which is a huge drag, but she copes with it pretty well. Now that she's back in New York, she calls herself the New York branch of the Baby-sitters Club, but it isn't the same, and I miss her a my best friend: Her name is Stacey McGill, and she lived in Stoneybrook for just about one year. She and her parents had lived in New York City, then her dad's company transferred him here, then, after one year, back to New York. Weird, huh? But it was lucky for me, because if none of that had happened, I'd never have met my first and only best friend. Stacey was a club member, of course. And she and I are so much alike. We couldn't look more different, but we both love wild clothes and I guess we're a little boy-crazy. Stacey has diabetes, which is a huge drag, but she copes with it pretty well. Now that she's back in New York, she calls herself the New York branch of the Baby-sitters Club, but it isn't the same, and I miss her a lot. lot.

I stopped staring out the window and daydreaming about the Baby-sitters Club and my friends, and went back to work on my painting again. A few minutes later, Mimi came into my room. For someone with a limp, she manages the stairs pretty well - but only sometimes. Other times, they frighten her.

My grandmother stood behind me and studied the painting.

"A beautiful," she said at last.

"Thanks, Mimi," I replied.

Mimi put her arm around me. "Start dinner?" she asked.

Hadn't she started an hour ago? I wondered. But all I said was, "Do you want me to give you a hand?" (I'm used to Mimi's forgetfulness.) Mimi nodded.

Arm in arm, we walked slowly to the top of the stairs. We walked even more slowly down them. When we reached the kitchen Mimi discovered that she'd forgotten what she'd planned for dinner, so I helped her start over.

Mimi needs lots of help these days.

It's a little bit hard on our family.

Chapter 2.

"Claudia, Claudia!" called an urgent voice, and Mallory Pike burst into my bedroom. She looked close to tears. It was a Wednesday afternoon, just ten minutes before the beginning of a meeting of the Baby-sitters Club. "Mimi just scolded me and told me never to take her shopping again because we have to wait too long to get into the dressing rooms. She sounded really mad at me." (All my friends call my grandmother Mimi. That's what she likes.) "Sit down," I said, leading Mallory to my bed. "I guess Mimi never yelled at you before, did she?"

"Well," said Mal shakily, "she wasn't exactly yelling, but - "

"I know what you mean." I plopped down next to Mal.

"Anyway, no, she never talked to me that way before - and I never took her shopping. When would I have taken her shopping? And why would she think I'd I'd take her shopping instead of you or Janine or one of your parents?" take her shopping instead of you or Janine or one of your parents?"

Before I could answer, Mal rushed on. "And then she seemed like her old self again. Her voice went back to normal, and she pulled this this out of her pocket and gave it to me." Mallory opened her hand and showed me a small china bird that had been part of Mimi's bird collection for as long as I could remember. "Mimi said she's known me since I was little and she really wants me to have this... You don't mind, do you? I mean, I didn't ask for it or anything." out of her pocket and gave it to me." Mallory opened her hand and showed me a small china bird that had been part of Mimi's bird collection for as long as I could remember. "Mimi said she's known me since I was little and she really wants me to have this... You don't mind, do you? I mean, I didn't ask for it or anything."

I did mind a little, but not because Mimi had chosen Mal, not me, to have the bird. I minded because for Mimi this was a new weird behavior that I didn't understand. All I said, though, was, "No, of course not," and Mal smiled and looked like she felt better.

Then Kristy came in, or maybe I should say blew blew in, and Mimi was immediately forgotten. in, and Mimi was immediately forgotten.

"Hi, you guys!" cried Kristy. "Are we the only ones here so far?" She checked her watch. "Five minutes till meeting time. Any Oreos, Claud?"

I felt winded just listening to Kristy, but I began a search for this package of Oreos which I was pretty sure was inside my hollow book, one of my best hiding places. The other good hiding places are behind a row of Nancy Drews on my shelf, and in boxes under my bed, labeled things like ART SUPLYS. (I am not the world's greatest speller.) , Maybe I better tell you how our club works, before things get underway. Kristy, Mary Anne, Dawn, Mal, Jessi, and I meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons from five-thirty until six. We have done a lot of advertising (mostly with fliers and in the newspaper), so people know that these are the times we meet. When they need baby-sitters they call us at those times. We provide the sitters - and get tons of jobs this way.

The club started back at the beginning of seventh grade when Kristy saw how hard it was for her mom to find a sitter for David Michael (who was six then) at a time when neither Kristy nor her older brothers, Sam and Charlie, could watch him. Mrs. Thomas (well, she was Mrs. Thomas then, but now she's Mrs. Watson Brewer) had to make call after call trying to find an available sitter. And Kristy thought to herself, Wouldn't it be great if Mom could make one phone call and find, like, a whole nest of sitters? That was the beginning of the Baby-sitters Club. She asked Mary Anne, me, and Stacey (who was my new friend then), to join her, and we started advertising to let people know what we were going to-do, and when they could reach us. We began receiving calls at our first meeting. We were amazed!

Here's how we run the meetings: officially. As president, Kristy insists on that. She is always a take-charge person, and usually a no-nonsense person. At the beginning of every meeting, she puts a visor on her head, a pencil over one ear, and plunks herself down in my director's chair. (The meetings are held in my room because I have my own phone and my own phone number.) Then she asks Dawn to collect club dues if it's a Monday, and then she just, well, runs things. She makes us keep a club notebook in which each" of us is responsible for writing up every job we go on. Once a week, we're supposed to read the past week's entries so that we all know what's happened at the houses where our friends have sat. Plus, we often find good solutions to sitting problems in the notebook. I look at it this way: Kristy deserves to be the president. She's good at being a boss (when she's not actually being bossy), she's a natural leader, and besides, the club was her idea.

I'm the vice-president mostly because of my phone. If we held our meetings in anyone else's room we'd have to tie up some adult's phone line three times a week - and get calls for people who aren't club members. Actually, there's a little more to my job than just owning a phone. A lot of times, baby-sitting calls come in while we're not having a meeting. Then I have to take down the information about who needs a sitter when, for how long, and for how many kids, and call my friends to see who's available to take the job.

As secretary, Mary Anne has the most complicated job of all. She's perfect for it, though, because she's organized, precise, and has terribly neat handwriting. What does she do? She keeps our record book up-to-date and in order, and schedules all of our jobs. This includes keeping track of the club members' personal schedules, too - dance lessons, art cla.s.ses, dentist appointments (or in Mal's case, orthodontist appointments). The record book is the most important feature of our club. It's very official, so of course it was Kristy's idea. Apart from the appointment pages where Mary Anne does our scheduling, it has pages where she records our clients' names and addresses, the number of children they have, and vital information, such as children who have food allergies, or special fears. Also in the record book is s.p.a.ce for recording the money we earn, and for keeping track of our treasury. That's Dawn's job, though, so on to Dawn.

Our poor treasurer has the awful job of collecting dues from us club members every week. We hate parting with any of our money, but Dawn (being Dawn) just does her job and isn't bothered by our griping. The money in the treasury is used for several things. First of all, fun stuff - throwing slumber parties or pizza parties from time to time. Our club isn't all all work. Secondly, to pay Charlie Thomas, Kristy's oldest brother, to drive her to and from meetings now that she lives across town. The third thing we spend the money on is toys for our Kid-Kits. Kid-Kits are boxes that we decorated ourselves (we each have one) and filled with our old games, toys, and books. We take the Kid-Kits with us sometimes when we baby-sit, and the kids love them - which makes work. Secondly, to pay Charlie Thomas, Kristy's oldest brother, to drive her to and from meetings now that she lives across town. The third thing we spend the money on is toys for our Kid-Kits. Kid-Kits are boxes that we decorated ourselves (we each have one) and filled with our old games, toys, and books. We take the Kid-Kits with us sometimes when we baby-sit, and the kids love them - which makes us us popular baby-sitters! Anyway, most of the stuff in the kits, like books and games, never wears out or gets used up. But we do popular baby-sitters! Anyway, most of the stuff in the kits, like books and games, never wears out or gets used up. But we do have to replace crayons, activity books, soap bubbles, and things like that. The treasury money is supposed to cover those expenses.

Mallory and Jessi, our junior officers, don't have real duties the way the rest of us do, but they sure help take the pressure off of us. Our club is very successful. We get so many jobs, in fact, that when Stacey (who was our first treasurer - Dawn took over after she left) moved back to New York, we decided to replace her with two two new club members. It's kind of a pain that Jessi and Mal are too young to sit at night, but at least when they cover more of the afternoon jobs, it frees the rest of us up for the evenings. new club members. It's kind of a pain that Jessi and Mal are too young to sit at night, but at least when they cover more of the afternoon jobs, it frees the rest of us up for the evenings.

Okay, now I'll tell you about Logan Bruno (the love of Mary Anne's life) and Shannon Kilbourne, our two a.s.sociate club members. They don't come to meetings, but they are good sitters whom we know we can call on if a job comes in that none none of us is free to take. That might sound unlikely, but it does happen. Just last week, someone needed a sitter on an afternoon when Mallory had an orthodontist appointment, I had an art cla.s.s, Jessi had a dance rehearsal, and the rest of us were going to be baby-sitting. Whew! Shannon took that job, thank goodness. of us is free to take. That might sound unlikely, but it does happen. Just last week, someone needed a sitter on an afternoon when Mallory had an orthodontist appointment, I had an art cla.s.s, Jessi had a dance rehearsal, and the rest of us were going to be baby-sitting. Whew! Shannon took that job, thank goodness.

Anyway, after some searching around my room on that Wednesday afternoon, I found a new package of Double Stuf Oreos and handed them to Kristy in the director's chair. While she was opening them, Jessi, Dawn, and Mary Anne came in. Mallory moved off the bed to sit on the floor with Jessi, while Mary Anne and Dawn and I settled ourselves in a row on my bed. These are our usual spots for club meetings.

No sooner had Kristy asked if anyone had club business to discuss, than the phone rang.

"I'll get it!" exclaimed Kristy. "First call of the meeting!" Kristy picked up the phone. "h.e.l.lo, Baby-sitters Club... Yes? ... Yes?" She sounded puzzled. Then she handed the phone to me and said, cupping her hand over the receiver, "It's Mrs. Addison. Remember her? And she wants to talk to you."

This was not standard club procedure. Usually, whoever answers the phone (and it isn't always Kristy), takes down the information about the job, and then hangs up to give Mary Anne a chance to study our schedule. When we've found someone who's available for the job, we call the client back to tell him or her who the sitter will be.

But our club had baby-sat for the Addison kids only a couple of times, so maybe Mrs. Addison had forgotten the procedure.

I took the phone from Kristy, feeling curious. "Hi, Mrs. Addison?" I said. Then I listened to her for a long time. When I hung up the phone, I turned to the other girls and said, "Guess what? She doesn't want a baby-sitter, she wants an art teacher."

"Huh?" said Kristy.

"Oh, don't tell me. For Corrie. Or Sean. Right?" spoke up Dawn, who's the only one of us who has sat for the Addisons.

"Yeah, for Corrie," I replied. "How did you know?"

"Because all Mr. and Mrs. Addison want is time for themselves, so they shuttle poor Corrie and Sean from cla.s.s to cla.s.s on weekends and after school. Corrie's only nine, and Sean is ten, and I bet they've both already taken basketball, dance, drama, creative writing, football, baseball, and anything else the Addisons can think of."

"Well, now Mrs. Addison's thought of art, and she knows that I'm pretty good at art and and that I like kids, so she's wondering if I'd give Corrie an art lesson once a week. I guess that would be sort of like a baby-sitting job... Wouldn't it?" that I like kids, so she's wondering if I'd give Corrie an art lesson once a week. I guess that would be sort of like a baby-sitting job... Wouldn't it?"

"Sure," replied Kristy. "You'd have to charge more than usual because you'd need to provide materials, but I don't see why - "

"Hey!" I cried, interrupting Kristy. I couldn't help it. For once, I'd I'd had a great idea. "Maybe I could start a little art cla.s.s. Like on Sat.u.r.days in our bas.e.m.e.nt. Gabbie and Myriah Perkins love art projects. So does Jamie Newton. That would be fun. And good experience for me, in case I ever want to be an art teacher." had a great idea. "Maybe I could start a little art cla.s.s. Like on Sat.u.r.days in our bas.e.m.e.nt. Gabbie and Myriah Perkins love art projects. So does Jamie Newton. That would be fun. And good experience for me, in case I ever want to be an art teacher."

"And," said Kristy slowly, "it would show people that our club can do more than just baby-sit. I think it would be good for business."

"I'd need some help, though," I said slowly. "I don't know if I could manage a cla.s.s alone."

"If you hold the cla.s.s on Sat.u.r.days, I could help you," spoke up Mary Anne. "We'll split the money sixty-forty, since you'll be in charge."

It seemed like a great arrangement. If Mrs. Addison agreed, then all systems would be go.

Mrs. Addison did agree. The meeting ended on a happy note.

Chapter 3.

Sometimes when my friends leave after a club meeting, I feel a little let down. Suddenly my room is quiet again. And it's funny, but that's when I miss Stacey the most. Knowing that my only best best friend is all the way in New York City makes me feel bad - but just for a few moments. Then I remember that Mimi is home and I can run downstairs and help her fix dinner. friend is all the way in New York City makes me feel bad - but just for a few moments. Then I remember that Mimi is home and I can run downstairs and help her fix dinner.

That was just what I did after the meeting when Mary Anne and I decided to hold art cla.s.ses. Only lately I haven't been just helping Mimi fix dinner, I've pretty much been doing it for her, or at least directing her, if she insists on doing things herself. She's just not too trustworthy in the kitchen anymore. Her hands shake, so I worry when she's using knives or the vegetable peeler. And (I know this is gross, but it's true) she's not very sanitary anymore, either. She's always forgetting to wash her hands before she begins cooking. She doesn't remember to wash food either, like raw chicken pieces or lettuce. And I'm afraid she's going to give us all food poisoning sometime by thawing out a piece of meat, deciding not to serve it after all, and then re-freezing it without cooking it first. That's a wonderful way to get salmonella. Plus I worry about matches, the stove, the oven, you name it. Of course, I only need to worry on her bad days. On her good days, no problem. Which is why my parents haven't banned Mimi from the kitchen yet. They know it would take away her sense of usefulness and independence - and that on the bad days, I'll cook or supervise.

"Mimi!" I exclaimed as I entered the kitchen. "I've got a good idea! Let's have a fancy candlelight dinner tonight. You set the table in the dining-room with our good china and put out candles and everything."

"Yes. Fine," replied Mimi vaguely.

I was glad she agreed to that. After the business with Mallory that afternoon, I could tell she was having a bad time, and I wanted to make the dinner myself.

During the next hour, my parents came home from their jobs, and Janine returned from her college course called Advances and Trends in Computerized Biopsychiatry. (Or something like that. I don't know the meaning of any of those words except "and" and "in.") Everyone was surprised and pleased by our formal dinner. Mimi and I exchanged a secret smile as Mom exclaimed, "Oh, how lovely!" and Janine cried, "Candlelight!" and Dad said, "Chicken and rice, my favorite." (So it wasn't fancy food. At least the meal looked looked fancy.) fancy.) My family took our usual places at the table.