Despite the bad road conditions, I got to the meeting sooner than usual. "How's the job going?" Kristy asked me.
"Great," I said. "I mean . . . there are some annoying things about it ... but the money is great. Yeah . . . it's great." Chapter 8.
Greed. It's a dangerous thing.
That's what I was thinking the following Wednesday as I ran around the Cheplins' house like a maniac trying to accomplish Mrs. Cheplin's ever growing list of things to be done.
How I'd come to dread that list. I even had nightmares about it. The night before I'd dreamt that I was walking home from school with Robert, and Mrs. Cheplin walked right behind us telling me all the things she wanted done in a steady stream of chatter. And, in my dream, her chores were even worse than in real life. "Stacey, paint the house, wash the windows, patch all the clothes, do the grocery shopping, fix the roof, cook a lasagna." In the dream I covered my ears and tried to get away from her but she chased me, rambling on about her list all the while. "Wallpaper the living room, carpet the stairs, get rid of my clutter, cure Dana's diabetes." That's when I woke up. "I can't!" I cried, still half in my dream. Then I woke up fully and realized I was in my bedroom. I was glad to be out of that dream.
But I wanted the money. Was that greed? In a way, it was. Because now I no longer wanted only to take Robert to Broadway. Now I also wanted to take him somewhere fancy for dinner. I also wanted to buy a new dress, something that would look special for this special night.
I'd also started thinking about other ways I could spend the money if I continued working for Mrs. Cheplin. My biggest plan was to save for a sports car. After all, I'd be old enough to drive in a few years. That was enough time to save a good-sized down payment on a car. I spent a lot of time imagining myself cruising to Manhattan in a hot red convertible.
In order for these plans to come true, I needed to keep my high-paying job with Mrs. Cheplin. That meant making sure everything on her list was accomplished.
Unfortunately, the real list was only slightly better than the one in my nightmares. So far on that Wednesday I'd already given the kids snacks, straightened up Adam's room, and unloaded the dishwasher. A plumber arrived to fix a leak under the sink. (Mrs. Cheplin had told me the day before that he was coming.) He spread his tools and piping out all over the tiny kitchen floor and crawled under the sink to check things out.
Now I had to take Dana to her first piano lesson at a house at the top of the hill. Of course, I had to bring Adam with me, too. Just bundling him up in boots, snowsuit, scarf, and hat was a job.
We trudged up Acorn Place to the home of a woman who gave piano lessons. "I don't think I want to go," Dana announced when we reached the front door. "And I don't feel so good all of a sudden." I took a deep breath. By now I was sure this was a gimmick of Dana's to get out of doing certain things. "Just go in and check it out," I told her. "Adam and I will be right outside." "I really feel sick," she insisted.
I put my hand between her shoulder blades and gently guided her toward the front door. "I think your mother has already paid for these lessons. She really wants you to go." As I spoke, I rang the doorbell. A friendly-looking lady with short white hair came to the door. "Hello, Mrs. Kleinsasser," I said. "Dana's here for her lesson." "Come in, Dana." Mrs. Kleinsasser greeted her warmly. With slumped shoulders, Dana went inside.
Adam and I built a snowman on the side of Mrs. Kleinsasser's house while we waited for Dana. Chatterbox Adam told me all about his parents' divorce. "My daddy got a job in Chicago and he wanted to go and my mommy didn't want to go and they had a big fight. So then he went but we stayed here. Daddy calls us every night and he's going to visit us in the spring. We're going to live with him this summer." "This summer?" I gasped. That meant I wouldn't be earning this money through the summer. I'd have to take that into account when I was calculating things.
"Yes, we'll be with him all summer. He lives in an apartment building with a pool and . . ." I didn't listen to the rest of what he had to say. I was busy adding up what I wouldn't be making this summer and subtracting it from the total yearly amount that I'd calculated days ago.
At the end of the hour, Dana came outside smiling. "It was great," she reported.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"Fine," she said.
I wasn't surprised.
I hurried the kids back down the hill as fast as Adam's short legs would go. I knew I'd lost a precious hour waiting at the Kleinsassers' and would have to make up some time. When we reached the house, the plumber was still under the sink.
I checked the list. Stamp outgoing bills. Make dentist appointment for Adam. Fold laundry.
When those things were done, "peel carrots" was next on my list. "It's homework time," Adam said as I stepped over a box of plumbers' tools to reach a pack of carrots in the refrigerator. Checking the wall clock, I saw that he was right. I'd never get everything done in time! Think, Stacey, think, I urged myself. There had to be a way. "I'll peel while you read," I suggested.
We sat at the kitchen table. I peeled while Adam read me Martin and the Tooth Fairy.
After awhile, Dana came to the table holding her math workbook. "Stacey, I don't understand this." "Let me see," I said.
"Hey, I'm reading!" Adam cried indignantly.
"I can still listen." "No, you can't," he protested.
"Dana, just wait till he stops reading." "Look at how much he has left," Dana said.
"And he reads so slow." She was right. He did have a long way to go.
"Adam, keep reading. Really, I can listen." "Oh, all right," said Adam.
Still peeling carrots into a brown paper bag, I looked at Dana's division problem and tried to keep part of my mind on Adam's reading.
"Young lady," the plumber called from near the front door. "I turned off the water. I'm going out to check one of the pipes that runs outside." "Okay," I called over my shoulder.
I had just turned back to Dana's division problem when my hand slipped and I scraped my thumb on the peeler. "Ow!" I cried, jumping to my feet, waving my throbbing hand in the air.
Adam burst into tears.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I tried to shake the pain from my hand.
"You're not listening to me read!" he cried, tears sliding down his cheeks.
"Oh, stop it, you big baby!" Dana scolded him.
Mrs. Cheplin picked that moment to walk in the front door. "What's going on here?" she asked.
Adam ran to his mother and threw his tearful face into her side. "Stacey won't listen to me read!" he sobbed.
Mrs. Cheplin looked at me with questioning eyes. "I was listening, but . . ."I began. My voice trailed off because Mrs. Cheplin wasn't listening. She was looking around the kitchen.
"This place is a mess!" she cried, glaring at me accusingly. "What's all this?" "The plumber," I reminded her.
"Where is he?" Mrs. Cheplin asked.
"Outside. He's checking something." With troubled eyes, Mrs. Cheplin continued looking around the house, checking to see if everything was done. I had the strangest feeling that Mrs. Cheplin almost hoped to find something not done. "Did Dana go to her piano lesson?" she asked me.
"Yes." "You didn't start the rice," she said, sounding displeased.
It was the last thing on the list and it was true, I hadn't gotten to it. Then I thought fast. "The plumber turned the water off." Even if I'd wanted to start the rice I wouldn't have been able to boil the water for it.
Looking at me suspiciously, Mrs. Cheplin went to the sink and turned the faucet. Water spurted out.
"Honest," I said. "That's what he told me." Mrs. Cheplin rolled her eyes and wiped some black gook from the kitchen counter. The plumber had left it there, but Mrs. Cheplin looked at me as if I should have cleaned up after him already.
I felt really angry. Why was I knocking myself out to please this woman who didn't appreciate what I did and only looked to find fault? Who did she think she was, anyway? I opened my mouth to tell her what I thought when the plumber came in the front door.
He nodded at Mrs. Cheplin. "One of your outside lines was frozen so the water couldn't pass. It backed up and that's what caused the leak in your system. I torched the frozen clog free, which might send some water through your line, but to keep a continuous flow I have to turn the water back on. Once I do that you'll be fine." "Wonderful," Mrs. Cheplin told the plumber. "I see you were right about the water," she said to me. "You couldn't have started the rice." No, I thought bitterly. You'll have to make it yourself. What a horror. You'll actually have to boil a pot of water.
Plumber or no plumber, if Dana was going to go to piano lessons I wouldn't be able to get so many things done on those days. Mrs. Cheplin would just have to understand that. I took a deep breath, preparing to tell her that, when Mrs. Cheplin handed me my pay.
I looked down at the money in my hand. A picture of Robert and me in New York flashed through my mind. Another image - me in my flashy red car - whizzed across my brain, too.
I folded the money and stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans. "Thanks," I said. "See you tomorrow." As I said, greed is a dangerous thing.
Chapter 9.
While I was at the Cheplins' struggling with plumbers and piano lessons, Mallory and Kristy were having a hard time of their own. They were at Mal's sitting for the younger Pikes. Mrs. Pike always hires two sitters since there are so many kids.
Byron, Jordan, and Adam Pike were making a snow fort in the yard. They'd decided this was going to be the snow fort to end all snow forts. They kept thinking of great additions to their fort and running in and out of the house for the supplies they needed.
"You're tracking mushy snow all over the kitchen floor!" Mallory scolded Byron. She was sitting at the table helping Vanessa and Margo cut out red construction paper valentines to make a valentine chain.
"Stop bugging me, Mallory." Byron blew her off as he opened the cabinet that held the pots and pans. He rummaged through it until he pulled out a metal strainer. "Just what I need," he announced triumphantly.
"What are you going to use that for?" asked Kristy as she walked into the kitchen with Claire. Claire had chocolate smeared all over her face and Kristy was looking for a cloth to clean her up with.
"We're going to shoot water through the strainer so it will spray all over the place and create a wall of ice over our fort." "Byron, you'll get wet and freeze out there," Kristy protested as she wiped Claire's face.
"Besides, Dad shut the outside faucets off for the winter," Mallory added.
Just then, something crashed in the living room. Kristy and Mallory ran to see what had happened.
Nicky lay by a bookcase with a heap of Mr. Pike's books lying around him. "Are you all right?" cried Kristy, helping Nicky to his feet.
"What were you doing?" Mal asked.
"Nothing," said Nicky, rubbing his knee.
Mallory reached under the couch and pulled out a skateboard. "Is this the nothing you were doing?" she asked.
"Sort of," Nicky admitted. There was a two-foot edge of wood floor around the living room rug that Nicky had been trying (unsuccessfully) to navigate.
Just then, the phone in the kitchen rang. "I'll get it," said Kristy, heading into the kitchen. "Pike residence," she said as she picked up the receiver.
"Is this Crusty?" asked a kid's voice.
"Do you mean Kristy?" "No Crusty. Crusty Toenails. That's you!" Click. The kid on the other end hung up.
Shaking her head, Kristy hung up. Was that call meant for her, or would the caller have asked for Crusty Toenails no matter who picked up?
"Who was that?" Mal asked, rejoining Margo, Vanessa, and Claire at the kitchen table.
"Just a prank call," Kristy reported.
At that moment, the front doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Kristy. When she opened the door, no one was there. "Hello?" she called out. She checked to see if anyone was hiding in the bushes. No one was there.
When she returned to the kitchen, the triplets were raiding the refrigerator looking for treats to load into the snow chest they'd built inside their fort. "You can't take all that stuff outside," Mallory told them as they grabbed ice cream from the freezer and cupcakes from the top of the refrigerator.
"Yeah, like we're really scared of you, Mallory," Adam said as he filled his arms with containers of juice and chocolate milk from the refrigerator.
Mallory looked to Kristy for help.
"Drop it, you guys," Kristy commanded. Then she gave them the Look.
Without another word, the triplets began putting back the food.
The front door bell rang again. Kristy sighed in exasperation. "I'll get it." This time, she went to the window first and peeked through the curtains. She didn't see anyone, but the bushes beneath the window were shaking as if someone were moving below them. Kristy sprang to the door and pulled it open.
Looking sharply to the right, she saw a kid's jeans and boots disappear around the corner of the house. She tore out of the doorway and ran to the side of the house. Whoever had been there was fast because he'd completely disappeared.
It wasn't until Kristy returned to the front door that she noticed the envelope taped to it. On the front was written Crusty.
