Stacey And The Mystery Of Stoneybrook (3 page)

like our rates and customers' addresses and phone numbers. She even has a list of the names of all their pets.

"You take it, Mary Anne. I promised I'd help David Michael give Shannon a bath." Kristy went ahead and called Mrs. Newton to let her know Mary Anne would be there. That's generally the way our club works. We rarely squabble over jobs, because there's always enough to go around.

"Don't forget your Kid-Kit, Mary Anne. I hear it's supposed to rain, and you know how Jamie can be when he's stuck inside," Dawn said.

Kid-Kits are another of Kristy's great ideas. They've been lifesavers more times than I can count, especially on rainy days or when kids miss their parents and need to be distracted. Kid-Kits are boxes filled with toys, books, and games. (We each made our own, decorating them with scraps of cloth, sequins, or whatever else we could find in Claudia's
misselaneus
carton of supplies. The Kid-Kits don't have all
new
stuff, but it's new to the kids we sit for, and it really keeps them occupied.

"Speaking of Kid-Kits, how's the treasury? Can we afford some new Colorforms? Mine don't stick anymore, they've been used so much." Kristy looked over at me.

I checked the manila envelope to see how much dues money we had. We each get to keep all the money we earn on every job, but we pay dues weekly to cover incidentals for the Kid-Kits. We also use money from the treasury to pay Kristy's big brother Charlie to drive her to meetings — it's too far to walk since she moved to Watson's — and for the occasional pizza bash, and to help Claud pay her phone bill. It only took me a second to count the money (that's why I'm treasurer).

"There's plenty for Colorforms," I said when I was done. "Anyone else need supplies?"

Everybody started to talk at once, but the phone began to ring. There were four or five calls in a row, but we handled each one quickly. Then, just as Kristy was getting ready to adjourn the meeting, the phone rang one more time.

Kristy answered it. She talked forever. I could tell she was talking to Dr. Johanssen, who is the mother of my favorite baby-sitting charge, Charlotte. But I couldn't figure out what Dr. Johanssen wanted. It sounded complicated.

When she hung up, Kristy pushed back her visor. "Okay, guys, here's the story. Mr. Johanssen's father has to have surgery, and the Johanssens want to be there with him. Dr. Johanssen said her father-in-law isn't in any real danger — but he's pretty old, so the operation could be hard on him. So they have to leave town for about a week, but they don't want to make Charlotte miss school."

I couldn't imagine how they could avoid that. It's not as if Charlotte's other grandparents live here in town. In fact, the Johanssens have no family at all in Stoneybrook.

"So she was wondering if Charlotte could stay with either Jessi's family or with you, Stace," Kristy finished. "She said she's willing to pay well for all the time they'd be away."

This was really something new! No BSC member had ever had this kind of job before.

Right away, Jessi said she couldn't do it. "Too bad. Becca would be so thrilled to have her best friend sleep over for a whole week! But we're going to New Jersey this weekend to see my cousins."

"Let me have the phone, Kristy," I said. "I bet my mom will say it's okay for Charlotte to stay with us." Mom is looking for a job right now (she hasn't worked full-time for years, but now that we're on our own she wants a job), and I knew she'd be glad to watch Charlotte any time I couldn't. Sure enough, she said it was fine, as long as she could have a talk with the Johanssens first.

I called Dr. Johanssen back and told her the good news. She said she'd call my mom right away. I was so excited. I couldn't believe it! I've always wanted a little brother or sister, and having Charlotte around for an entire week would be so much fun. I started to think about all .the things we'd do. Where would she sleep? I thought of the guest bedroom, and how nicely I could fix it up for her. I'd use those special sheets Mom had found at a garage sale, and —

"Meeting adjourned," Kristy said. It was six o'clock. I left Claud's house without really even saying good-bye to everyone and biked home. My head was full of plans.

Chapter 4.

By Thursday, I'd gotten the guest room all fixed up. I'd made the bed with these great Raggedy Ann sheets my mom had found. I knew Charlotte would love them. My old teddy bear, Goobaw, leaned against the pillow. He was missing one eye and most of his fur was rubbed bare, but he'd always been a comfort to me. I had filled a shelf with some other old dolls and toys that I thought an eight-year-old might like. There were a couple of books on the bedside table:
Charlotte's Web
and
The Long Winter,
two of Charlotte's favorites. I'd even picked some flowers and put them in a little vase on the windowsill.

I stood in the doorway, surveying the room. It looked great. I was sure Charlotte would feel right at home. I walked over to smooth the sheets one more time, but just then I heard a car honking in the driveway. I ran to the window and looked out. It was the Johanssens! I ran downstairs and out the door. My mom came out behind me.

Charlotte was struggling to get out of the backseat, which was piled high with suitcases and shopping bags. A suit of Mr. Johanssen's was hanging on one side of the car, and several of Dr. Johanssen's blouses were on the other. Finally Charlotte landed in the driveway. She was clutching a loaded shopping bag and a pillow. Her father pulled a small suitcase out of the space between the front and back seats.

"Is that everything, honey?" he asked.

Charlotte was looking down at the ground. She nodded without saying anything. Suddenly I realized that she was about to cry. I think my mom noticed, too.

"Charlotte, we're so happy to have you visit," she said. "Stacey tells me that spaghetti and meatballs is your favorite supper, and guess what? That's what we're having tonight."

Charlotte managed a tiny smile. I put my arm around her. "What did you bring, Char? Is this shopping bag full of your special stuff?" I asked.

She drew back from me and ran to her father's side. She grabbed him around the waist, and the tears began. "Daddy, please don't go!

I'm going to be so lonely," she cried.

I was surprised, and even though I knew I shouldn't take it personally, I was a little hurt. This was the
old
Charlotte, the shy, clingy girl she'd been when we first met. But she'd come so far since then. The Charlotte I knew now was confident, talkative, and friendly. She was independent, too — after all, she'd been separated from her parents for two whole weeks when we'd all gone off to Camp Mohawk.

Also, I don't mean to sound conceited, but Charlotte really loves me. I've always been her favorite sitter, but it's even more than that. I think she thinks of me as kind of a big sister. She was heartbroken when I moved away from Stoneybrook and thrilled when I came back.

I guess Dr. Johanssen noticed that I was looking a little crestfallen. She took me aside and told me not to feel too bad.

"Charlotte's having an especially hard time with this separation, Stacey. She's really worried about her grandfather — she loves him so much. And even though we've told her that he's going to be fine, she's still afraid. I think she'll be okay once she settles in with you. We are so grateful that she can stay here where we'll know she's safe," she said.

Then she walked over to give Charlotte a

hug. Charlotte
really
started crying then, but after both her parents had held her and said their good-byes, they had to leave. I held her hand as they pulled out of the driveway, and we waved until the car was out of sight. As we walked into the house and up the stairs, carrying all the stuff she'd brought, her sobs died down into sniffles interspersed with hiccuppy sighs.

When I opened the door of the guest room, Charlotte really stopped crying for the first time since she'd gotten out of the car.

"Oh, Stacey, this is so neat!" she said. She walked around the room, and I could tell that she was noticing all the little things I'd done to make her feel at home. Charlotte's a pretty thoughtful kid herself, so I knew she'd appreciate my efforts.

She sat on the bed and picked up Goobaw. "My grandpa's very sick," she told him. "He might die."

"Oh, Charlotte, he's not going to die," I said. "He's going to be just fine. And having your parents there with him will help him get better even faster."

I sat next to her on the bed, and this time when I put my arms around her she hugged me right back.-"I'm scared, Stacey," she said.

"Of course you are. But everything will be

all right, and we'll have lots of fun while you're here. Tell you what: How about a game of Clue before dinner?" I asked. "You can be Miss Scarlet."

We played and talked until Mom called to us that dinner was ready. By then I thought Charlotte had begun to feel at home. She still sniffed once in awhile, and she kept asking questions about her grandpa's operation ("Does it hurt him when they cut him open?" "But if he's asleep, what if he has a bad dream?"), but she seemed much calmer. (Obviously, Dr. Johanssen hadn't had time to explain the details of the operation to her.)

The spaghetti sauce smelled absolutely delicious. Mom was giving it one last stir as we walked into the kitchen.

"Charlotte, you can sit here, across from Stacey," she said. She filled our plates and brought them to the table. It's usually my job to set the table, but I guess I'd gotten a break on account of Charlotte being there. Then Mom brought her own plate over, along with a huge salad.

We all dug in. All but Charlotte, that is. She just sat there, looking down at her plate as if she didn't recognize what was on it. I knew something had to be wrong, since she usually loves spaghetti.

"What's the matter, Charlotte?" I asked. "Do you want me to cut up your meatballs?" Maybe she just needed a little babying.

"I guess I'm just not hungry," she said in a small voice. "It looks delicious, Mrs. McGill, but. . ." She looked like she was going to cry again.

"That's all right, Charlotte," my mom said. "If you get hungry later there'll be plenty left over." Mom must have been thinking the same thing I was: Charlotte was just feeling too nervous and upset to eat right now. There was no point in forcing her.

I finished my meal quickly while Charlotte waited. I'd told her she could go into the living room and watch TV, but she didn't seem to want to leave my side. She helped me clear the table, and she stuck right by me as I stacked the dishes into the dishwasher.

"Are my parents still on the plane?" she asked. I worked on figuring out the answer. Let's see, I thought. They left for the airport at around 4:30, their flight left at 5:30 and lasted . . . how many hours? But before I could finish my calculations, Charlotte came up with more questions.

"When they land at the airport, what will they do with all those suitcases? Will some-

body meet them? Are they going straight to the hospital to see Grandpa?"

I could see that Charlotte needed some distraction. I turned on the TV. Luckily,
The Cosby Show,
one of Charlotte's favorites, was on. That kept her occupied for half an hour, but as soon as it was over, the questions started up again.

"They must be at the hospital by now. Do you think Grandpa is happy to see them? Grandpa must be scared about his operation. How do they close him up again when it's all over?"

Brother. After I'd explained how stitches work and why a zipper wouldn't be practical, I suggested another game of Clue. But halfway through the game I could see that Charlotte was getting restless. How could I distract her before she came up with another round of questions?

"Have you ever played War, Charlotte?" I asked as I dug into my desk drawer for a deck' of cards. She had never played that game, so I taught her how. "See, you split the deck in half, and then we each turn over a card at the same time. Whoever has the higher card wins. And when we both turn over the same card, we have a War, like this: one, two, three,

WAR! The winner of that gets all those cards. And whoever gets all the cards in the deck first, wins."

Charlotte loved playing War. Personally, I've always thought it was about the most boring card game on the face of the earth, but that night I played twelve games in a row, very happily. Anything to keep Charlotte's mind off her traveling parents, her sick grandpa, and her own homesickness.

After the twelfth game (which Charlotte won), I suggested that it was time for bed. I had some homework to do once she was asleep, and it was getting late.
Slowly,
she changed into her pajamas.
Slowly
she brushed her teeth. I could see that she was stalling. She was probably nervous about sleeping in a strange bed. .

I tucked her in and gave her Goobaw to hold. And then, even though Charlotte is a great reader/I read to her from
Charlotte's Web.
She loves that book, and I love to read to her. "I'm proud to have the same name as
that
spider," she always says.

After three chapters, just as my throat was beginning to hurt from so much reading aloud, I could see that Charlotte's eyelids were drooping. A few moments later, I stopped reading, and sure enough, she'd fallen asleep.

I tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door open a crack so I'd hear her if she woke up. For a moment I thought about skipping my math homework. I was exhausted! I never would have guessed that having Charlotte visit would take so much energy. It would probably get easier as the week went on, I thought. I hoped. I sat down at my desk and blitzed through the math problems as fast as I could.