Claudia and Mean Janine (4 page)

Monday
Today was a good news–bad news day for us baby-sitters. The good news was that ten children came to the first session of our play group and it went really well. The only real problem was Jenny Prezzioso. I should have known. She's a pain. Buddy Barrett, Nicky Pike, and David Michael are kind of wild when they get together, but they're manageable. We're going to have to do something about Jenny, though. Got any ideas, Mary Anne?

The bad news was about Claudia's grandmother, Mimi. It turns out that she had a stroke last night and
is in the hospital. The news kind of upset us, but we were able to put our worries aside and run the play group okay, which I guess proves that we're professionals.

Well, as Dawn said, the play group got off to a great start. The baby-sitters gathered at Stacey's house at eight-thirty. I felt really guilty going, since Mom and Dad were leaving for the hospital to be with Mimi, but Mom had called the intensive care unit to find out how she was doing and the nurse said she was still unconscious. So my parents didn't see any reason for Janine or me to go with them.

Because of all the upset at my house, I was the last one to arrive at Stacey's. I decided I should tell the club members the bad news right off. There was no point in holding it back, and they had a right to know.

When I walked into Stacey's backyard, a boxful of art supplies under one arm, I found everybody busy. Stacey, wearing a pair of knee-length lime green shorts, matching green high-top sneakers, and a large white T-shirt with a gigantic taxicab on the front, was setting up benches at the
two picnic tables. Mary Anne and Kristy, much more casual dressers, were each wearing blue jean shorts, running shoes, and T-shirts. Mary Anne's shirt, though, was pretty, with a scoop neck and lace edging on the sleeves, while Kristy was wearing an old gray thing that had probably once belonged to Sam or Charlie. It said
BOHREN'S MOVERS
in faded black letters across the back. Dawn, in a surprisingly New York kind of outfit (she usually goes for California casual), was wearing striped pants with suspenders over a red shirt. The three of them were going through the contents of their Kid-Kits, pulling out storybooks and board games.

“Hi, you guys,” I said.

Mary Anne, the most sensitive of all of us, must have been able to tell I was upset just by looking at me, because she immediately said, “What's wrong, Claud? Are you all right?”

“Can you guys come here for a sec?” I replied. “I have to tell you something.”

My friends all know Mimi well, since the meetings of the Baby-sitters Club are held at my house. Kristy and Mary Anne know her really well, just because the three of us have grown up together, but Mary Anne is especially close to her because her own mother died years ago.
The news was going to upset them all.

Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran to me.

“What is it?” asked Stacey.

“I have bad news,” I said, “and I thought you should know right away. Mimi had a stroke last night.”

Mary Anne gasped, and Dawn gripped her hand.

“She's okay,” I said quickly. “I mean, she can't move, but she's breathing, and the doctor said it's possible she can make a good recovery. We just have to wait and see.”

Everyone except Mary Anne relaxed a little. “Can we visit her in the hospital?” she asked, her voice quavering.

I shook my head. “Not yet, anyway. She's in intensive care. Maybe when she's moved to her own room in a different wing.”

Mary Anne's lower lip began to tremble.

“Hey!” I said. “I just had an idea. The kids could make get-well cards for Mimi today. Most of them have at least met her.”

“That's a great idea!” Kristy chimed in. “We'll combine an art project with … with …”

“With learning to care about others,” said Dawn. “Perfect. The parents will love it. And
more important, Mimi will love the cards.”

We felt cheered, and rushed around getting the last things in order. Just before nine o'clock, Kristy gathered us together and said, “I thought we should have a schedule for the day—a loose one. Since it's the first day, we'll just sort of see how things go. Anyway, if this is okay with you guys, I thought we'd start off with an hour and a half when the kids can do whatever they want. Then we'll have music for about twenty minutes, then our snack” (we'd bought canned juice and saltines) “then stories—maybe one for the older kids and another for the younger ones—and then a group thing, like a game of hide-and-seek or something. If there's any time left before twelve-thirty, they can just play on their own again.”

That was Kristy, always in charge. We agreed that her plan sounded good.

“And,” continued Kristy, “I think I know who our first kid is going to be.”

“Who?” we asked.

“David Michael.”

“David Michael!” I exclaimed. “That's great, but why is he coming over? He's got your brothers and your mom, and besides I thought he'd had enough of kids after the week with your cousins over at your house.”

“He had,” said Kristy, “but Sam and Charlie have summer jobs, and Mom's trying to get the house packed up. Besides, there may be some boys his age here. Nicky Pike or someone.”

“Well, fine,” I said. And at that moment, David Michael walked uncertainly into the McGills' backyard, clutching five dollars in one fist.

Shortly after David Michael arrived, Charlotte Johanssen came over. Then Mrs. Newton walked Jamie over.

And
then
Mallory Pike showed up with her brother Nicky and her three sisters, Claire, Margo, and Vanessa, plus Suzi and Buddy Barrett and Jenny Prezzioso.

“Mom told me I could help you,” Mallory said proudly. “So I started by walking the kids over. I told them about crossing streets and stuff.”

“That's wonderful,” said Kristy.

“What should I do now?” asked Mallory.

Kristy explained the schedule to her. “Why don't you just kind of keep an eye on the kids while they're playing? You know, stop any fights, or suggest things to them if they seem bored.”

“Okay.”

Now, before I tell you about the trouble that Jenny caused, I should mention how the kids were dressed that morning. Most of them were
dressed kind of like Kristy and Mary Anne—in T-shirts and shorts or blue jeans. Suzi Barrett was wearing a faded sundress and Claire was wearing short overalls over a striped shirt. Every last one of them was wearing sneakers.

Except for Jenny Prezzioso.

Jenny was wearing a pale pink, spotlessly clean party dress with puffed sleeves and white smocking across the front. On her feet were lacy white socks and pink Mary Janes.

The very first thing that happened that morning was that Jenny skidded in her Mary Janes and fell on her knees. I have to admit that for just a second I was more worried about the grass stain on the hem of her dress than I was about her knees.

“Wahh!”
wailed Jenny, not even crying real tears.

“Why don't you take your shoes and socks off?” I suggested. “It's a nice warm day. You won't slip so much in bare feet.”

“No,” said Jenny stubbornly. “I want to look pretty.”

“But when you fell down you got dirt on your dress. See?” I pointed to the grass stain.

Jenny looked at it, considering. Then she looked at her shoes.

“I don't want
to take off
MY PINK SHOES!” she screeched, her voice growing louder with every word.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

But that was just the beginning. Jenny didn't know how to share. She wouldn't cooperate with the other children. She said she wanted to play by herself, but when the other kids left her alone, she complained bitterly.

“Nobody likes me,” she wailed. She was sitting at a picnic table making a get-well card. She lowered her head onto her arm, the picture of despair.

A blue crayon rolled across the table, heading for her lap.

I dove for it and caught it before it landed on her dress.

“But, Jenny, you said you didn't want to play with them,” I pointed out.

“Well, I do now!”

“So go play.”

“I can't. I'll get my dress dirty.”

I rolled my eyes. Jenny was what Mimi would call “a trial.” But apart from Jenny, the kids had fun at the play group that morning. And they made a total of nineteen cards for Mimi.

That afternoon I baby-sat for Jamie Newton and his baby sister, Lucy, while Mrs. Newton ran errands and went to a club meeting. I was glad I had so many things to do. Being busy kept my mind off Mimi.

I loved taking care of Jamie and Lucy. The Newtons had been practically the first clients of the Baby-sitters Club. But Jamie was the only little Newton at the time. Then Lucy was born. All of us club members had wondered how Jamie would react to a new baby in the house. We were sure he'd be jealous. And he was a little bit, but only sometimes.

Now, the Newtons were planning a big party for Lucy's christening. The party was coming up soon.

“Look at this stuff. Look at all this stuff,” Jamie said to me after his mother had left. He led me into the dining room. “Mommy is getting ready to give a party, a big one. And it's all for
her.”
Jamie nodded his head toward the second floor, where Lucy was taking her afternoon nap.

The Newtons did seem to be getting ready for a very large party. The dining room table was
covered with boxes of crackers, cans of peanuts, tins of candies, stacks of napkins; plus glasses, silverware, plates, a punch bowl and cups, serving spoons, and more.

“You know what?” I said. “When you were Lucy's age, your parents gave a great big party after your christening.”

“They did?” Jamie brightened. Then he frowned. “But I don't remember it!” he said loudly.

“Shh.” I put a finger to my lips. “The baby—”

“I know,” said Jamie sullenly. “The baby is sleeping.”

Uh-oh, I thought. This doesn't look good.

But when Lucy woke up a little later, Jamie was the first to hear her crying. He leaped up from the floor, where we were playing a hot game of Candy Land, and ran to her room. I followed. When I caught up with him, I found him standing by her crib, one arm between the slats, patting her on the back and saying softly, “Claudy's here. Claudy's here. You can stop crying now, Lucy. Claudy's here.”

It was a nice scene. I filed it away in my memory.

I got Lucy dressed and gave her some juice,
and then I suggested that we take a walk. Jamie wanted to go over to my house. He likes my art supplies, but he also likes Mimi, and I think what he really wanted was to see for himself that she was actually gone. I wasn't sure how much “in the hospital” meant to him.

So I put Lucy in her stroller, and we walked to my house. “Is Mimi here?” asked Jamie as I was unlocking the front door.

“Nope. Remember—I said she's in the hospital. She's sick.”

Jamie mulled that over and went on to a different subject. “Is anybody here?”

“Just us,” I told him. “Want to look at my paints?”

Jamie shook his head. “Let's play outside.”

I sat on the lawn and played with Lucy while Jamie turned somersaults in the grass. Presently, a car pulled up and Janine got out.

“Bye!” she called to her carpool. “See you tomorrow!”

Jamie ran over to me as the car drove away. “Who's that?” he whispered.

“That's Janine, my sister. You know her.”

Jamie decided she was safe. “Hi-hi,” he said to Janine.

“Hello, Jamie,” she replied. She looked at Lucy and me. “Hi, Claudia…. Oh, look at you, Lucy. You're so big!”

“How was school?” I asked.

Janine sat down and began playing pat-a-cake with Lucy. “It was very exciting,” she replied. “Physics and astronomy are a fascinating combination of science—”

“Ja
nine
!” I exclaimed, irritated.

“What?” She let go of Lucy's hands.

“I don't believe you!” I exploded.

“What?”
Janine said again. She stood up.

I stood, too, and we faced each other.

Jamie looked on with interest.

“You didn't even ask about Mimi,” I accused her. “Or about Mom.”

“You didn't give me a chance. You inquired how school was. Besides, I know how both of them are. I phoned Mom from the campus this afternoon. There's no appreciable difference in Mimi. And Mom's … well, she's all right.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I repeat—you did not give me a chance.”

“Janine, you are so mean!”

Janine glared at me. Then, to everybody's surprise, I actually raised my hand as if to hit her, but I dropped it quickly. (Jamie was now wide-eyed
with fascination. He was looking back and forth between Janine and me.)

Janine shook her head. Then she stomped into the house.