Mary Anne and Too Many Boys

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Letter from Ann M. Martin

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Scrapbook

  Also Available

  Copyright

  I was so excited I felt like doing cartwheels across Claudia Kishi’s bedroom floor. It was summer (at last!) and my friends and I were gathered for a special meeting of the Baby-sitters Club.

  I looked around the room, and it was pretty obvious that my friends were as excited as I was. Of course, everyone was trying very hard to be cool, because that’s the way our club president, Kristy Thomas, expects us to be.

  Even though we were starting our summer vacations, she insisted on business as usual. Kristy was perched in a director’s chair, wearing a red T-shirt, faded jeans, and a visor. She glanced at her watch just as our two junior officers, Mallory Pike and Jessi Ramsey, scooted into the room and flopped down on the floor.

  “You’re late,” Kristy said sternly.

  Jessi and Mal are younger than the rest of us (and happen to be best friends) but Kristy believes that rules are rules. She takes her duty as president very seriously and believes that nothing — short of an earthquake — is an excuse for being late. But I can understand why she feels that way. The Baby-sitters Club was her idea, and I can still remember the day she told Claudia and me about it. All of us had grown up together on Bradford Court and loved to baby-sit, but it took someone like Kristy to set the wheels in motion for an actual sitting business.

  But back to Mal and Jessi. “Sorry,” they murmured in unison. They looked like they were trying hard not to giggle. Mal and Jessi always stick together, and besides, how could anyone take things seriously on the first day of summer?

  “I can’t believe you’re going to California tonight,” I whispered to Dawn Schafer. Dawn is my stepsister (her mother married my father), and she was going to the West Coast to visit her father and brother for two weeks.

  “I can’t believe it, either. It will be so much fun to go home. I mean, to my second home,” she added quickly.

  Her second home? I guess I should explain that. Even though she lives in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, now, Dawn is a California girl at heart. She loves the sun and the ocean, and is into health food in a major way. She even looks like someone out of a California beach movie. If you’ve already guessed that she’s blonde, blue-eyed, and has the kind of dazzling smile you see in toothpaste commercials — you’re right! Besides being my stepsister, Dawn is my “other” best friend. (Kristy Thomas is also my best friend.) There was definitely some jealousy involved when Dawn and I became stepsisters. Kristy seemed hurt that Dawn and I were spending so much time together, and I had to reassure her that it wouldn’t affect our friendship.

  I just realized I haven’t told you who I am, so here’s a capsule biography, as my English teacher would say. My name is Mary Anne Spier. I am thirteen years old and an eighth-grader at Stoneybrook Middle School. I don’t have a yard of wheat-colored hair like Dawn. Instead, I have brown hair, brown eyes, and think of myself as kind of ordinary. Oh, yes, one more thing. I have a fantastic gray kitten named Tigger.

  “Have you said good-bye to Logan?” Dawn asked in a low voice.

  “I called him last night.”

  I knew it would be hard to say good-bye to Logan, so I had decided to get it over with quickly. Logan Bruno is my boyfriend, but I still have a little trouble getting used to the idea. Logan is the cutest boy I have ever seen. He looks just like Cam Geary, my favorite TV star, and he comes from Louisville, Kentucky. He has this smooth southern accent and a voice that makes me think of warm molasses. Logan is an associate member of the BSC, which means he doesn’t come to meetings, but he fills in occasionally when all the regular members are busy. (Our other associate member is Shannon Kilbourne, a friend of Kristy’s.)

  “He’s really going to miss you,” Dawn said softly. “But I guess the feeling is mutual.”

  I nodded. Even though I had a wonderful two weeks at Sea City, this fantastic beach in New Jersey, ahead of me, I knew I would miss Logan. A lot.

  “Can we please come to order?” Kristy said abruptly. I glanced around the room as the meeting began. It’s amazing how many good things have happened for me because of the Baby-sitters Club. Dawn feels the same way. When we became friends, which was right after she moved here from California, I talked the BSC members into letting her join the club. About a year later we became stepsisters. But you’re probably wondering how the club got started, and this would be a good time to tell you a little bit about it.

  One day Kristy noticed that her mom was having a terrible time trying to find a sitter for David Michael, Kristy’s little brother. Kristy couldn’t sit for him, and neither could her two older brothers. So Mrs. Thomas was making calls all over town and getting nowhere. Then Kristy had a great idea. Why not form a baby-sitters club to solve that kind of problem?

  This is how it works. A group of us meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 5:30 to 6:00 in Claudia Kishi’s bedroom. Why did we pick Claudia’s room? Because she has her own phone and her own private number. Anyone who wants a baby-sitter can call us at that time, and they immediately reach seven sitters at once. The idea is perfect — and so simple, we wondered why we hadn’t thought of it before.

  Kristy is the president, because the club was her idea, and Claudia is the vice-president, since her room is our headquarters. Stacey McGill likes numbers, so she’s our treasurer. My stepsister, Dawn, is our official alternate officer. Dawn has to be familiar with the job of every club officer and be able to substitute for anyone who can’t make a meeting. She really likes being an alternate because she gets to take on lots of different roles in the club.

  Mal and Jessi are junior officers as I mentioned. Since they are eleven years old, they can only baby-sit after school and on weekends, but they are very responsible. (They don’t have actual club duties, though.) Mal and Jessi have a lot in common. They are both the oldest children in their families, and both of them complain that their parents treat them like babies.

  I have the best job of all. (In my opinion.) I am the club secretary, and I keep our record book. The record book lists all our baby-sitting appointments, along with the rates our clients pay, and how much each of us earns at each job. I also have to keep track of each member’s schedule — I could tell you when Jessi has a ballet lesson or Kristy has softball practice — and I have never made a scheduling mistake.

  I was flipping through the record book when Kristy called on Stacey McGill to give the treasurer’s report. Stacey looked very “New York” as usual, in a pair of khaki safari pants, topped with a jungle-print blouse and a leather belt that must have cost two months’ allowance. Stacey is a real city girl. She grew up in New York, and when her family moved to Stoneybrook, Claudia became friendly with her and invited her to join the club. Stacey is extremely sophisticated, but she does have her problems. Her parents recently divorced and her father lives in New York. And she has a disease called diabetes, which means she has to stick to a strict no-sweets diet and give herself daily injections of something called insulin.

  “Well that’s about it,” Stacey said, finishing her report. She looked at me and grinned. “Do you real
ize where we’ll be tomorrow at this time?”

  “I sure do,” I blurted out. “Sea City!”

  Kristy frowned. “I know everyone’s excited about their vacation plans, but could we please keep this meeting going?”

  “Sorry about that.” I tried to look remorseful, but it was difficult because I know I was still grinning from ear to ear. Stacey McGill and I were going to spend two fantastic weeks at a real beach town, and I couldn’t wait to get started! It wasn’t exactly a vacation (we were going to be mother’s helpers for a family — the Pikes — just like we had done the last time they went to the beach), but it would be wonderful. I was sure of it! I tried to restrain myself, though, because I remembered that Kristy’s family hadn’t made any vacation plans. Kristy would be in Stoneybrook for the next couple of weeks. Of course some people would say that Kristy is always on vacation, because she lives in a house that is straight out of the movies. Kristy used to live next door to me, but when her mother (who was divorced) married a millionaire named Watson Brewer, the whole family moved across town to his mansion. Kristy’s family immediately increased in size. Watson has two cute kids who spend every other weekend with him, and recently Kristy’s mom and Watson adopted an adorable little Vietnamese girl. She is two years old and her name is Emily.

  Kristy nudged me impatiently. “How does the record book look, Mary Anne?” Kristy likes to plan everything days in advance and doesn’t like surprises.

  “You’re going to be busy,” I told her, flipping through the calendar pages. “Of course, you’ll have Jessi to help you.” (Jessi didn’t have any vacation plans, either.)

  Jessi is a really neat black girl who moved to Stoneybrook from Oakley, New Jersey. She’s in the sixth grade (like Mallory), and is a very talented ballet dancer. She has an eight-year-old sister named Becca, and a baby brother nicknamed Squirt. Jessi can handle almost any situation, and proved it once by pet-sitting for a houseful of animals for a week.

  “It looks like you both have interesting jobs lined up,” I went on.

  Jessi beamed. “I’m sitting for Charlotte Johanssen one afternoon.” Charlotte is one of our favorite kids.

  “I’m sitting for Jenny Prezzioso,” Kristy said glumly.

  Jenny Prezzioso. Everybody was silent for a moment while the name sank in. Jenny is the kind of kid who gives baby-sitting a bad name, although I guess it isn’t really her fault. She’s only four years old, but she’s headed for the “World’s Most Spoiled Kid” award.

  “You’ll be able to handle her,” Claudia said cheerfully. “Just don’t let her eat pizza if she’s wearing one of her Little Bo-Peep dresses.”

  “Pizza!” Mal exclaimed. “I wish you hadn’t said that. I’m starving!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her stomach gave a loud growl, just like a sound effect in a movie. “Oh, how awful.” She clutched her stomach in embarrassment and giggled.

  Claudia reached under the bed and pulled out a shoe box. “Help yourself.” The box tipped open and I could see it was filled with Twinkies, Gummy Bears, and M&M’s.

  Nobody thought it was odd that Claudia kept snacks under the bed. Claudia is a junk-food addict, and she has candy and cookies stashed all over her room. Her parents aren’t thrilled about it, so she keeps her “treats” safely tucked away. Claudia, by the way, is definitely the most dramatic-looking person in the club. She’s Japanese-American, and has long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She’s a great artist and has an incredibly brainy sister, Janine. (Claudia is not the world’s best student, so it’s just as well that she’s talented in other areas.)

  “Mary Anne,” Stacey said dreamily, “remember the pizza at Sea City?”

  “How could I forget?” I sighed happily. “Even pepperoni tastes better in Sea City.” When Stacey and I had been to Sea City with the Pikes before, we’d had a super time. If you like to eat, you would go crazy at Sea City, because you can find everything from banana fudge to foot-long hot dogs there.

  “And Burger Garden,” Stacey went on. “Remember those Crazy Burgers?”

  “Of course I do,” I said. “Burgers topped with bacon, Swiss cheese, pickles, and orange sauce.”

  “Orange sauce? Yuck!” Jessi looked slightly sick.

  “It’s not what you think,” I told her. “They just mix the ketchup and mustard together. The Pike kids love it, don’t you, Mal?”

  “We sure do.” Mal nodded enthusiastically. Mallory is the oldest of eight kids, so naturally she is a terrific baby-sitter. The last time she went to Sea City she was a little young to baby-sit, so Stacey and I had all the responsibility for her brothers and sisters. Now that Mal is older, her parents have decided to pay her to help us out. But just from time to time. For the most part, they want her to have fun and enjoy her vacation.

  Every year Mal’s family rents a big house at the beach, and the kids love it. Stoneybrook is on the water, but it isn’t the same thing. It isn’t a “beach town” the way Sea City is. There must be a million things to do in Sea City, and I don’t mean just the ocean and the boardwalk.

  “Remember how much fun we had at Trampoline Land?” Stacey said.

  “And Fred’s Putt-Putt Course!” Mal exclaimed. “I love miniature golf. And the Ferris wheel, and oh, Candy Kitchen and Ice-Cream Palace!”

  Kristy looked a little put out by this trip down memory lane, so I decided to change the subject.

  “How about you, Claudia? Are you all set for Vermont?”

  “I think so,” she said softly. She looked a little wistful and I knew she was thinking of Mimi, her grandmother. Mimi died recently, and this year’s vacation in the mountains just wouldn’t be the same without her. The Kishis were even going to a different spot, because it would be too painful to go back to the old place.

  “I suppose we can close the meeting now,” Kristy said reluctantly. I know she was disappointed that most of us were taking off for exciting places, while she and Jessi would be stuck at home in Stoneybrook.

  “Gosh, I’m going to miss everybody,” I said suddenly. It had just dawned on me that I wouldn’t see my friends for two whole weeks!

  Before I had a chance to get misty-eyed (I cry very easily), Kristy thumped me on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t turn on the waterworks. We’re all going to write each other!”

  “That’s true,” I said, trying to cheer up, “but it won’t be the same.” I could feel a lump rising in my throat and swallowed hard. “I’ll send everybody tons of postcards. And make sure you write me back,” I pleaded. (We had already exchanged addresses.)

  “Of course we will,” Jessi promised. “Kristy and I will tell you about our baby-sitting jobs.”

  “And we’ll write everything in the club notebook,” Kristy said. (The club notebook is like a diary. We write up what happens on every job we go to. Leave it to Kristy to be businesslike at a time like this.)

  I hate good-byes, so I didn’t object when Stacey pulled me toward the hallway. “Have a great time, everybody!” she yelled over her shoulder. Dawn and Mallory were already ahead of us, thundering down the stairs, eager to start their vacations. Kristy and Jessi looked a little sad standing in Claudia’s bedroom, and I could feel myself getting weepy again.

  “Come on, Mary Anne!” Stacey exclaimed. “Sea City is waiting for us.”

  She was right. I wiped away a tear that was threatening to trickle down my cheek. Who could cry when it was vacation time?

  “Which do you like better? The pink or the blue?”

  Dawn snatched up identical bikinis from her dresser drawer and waved them at me.

  “Um … I like them both,” I said.

  “Honestly, Mary Anne! You must like one a teeny bit more than the other.” She collapsed on the bed next to her open suitcase. It was late Friday afternoon, and her bedroom looked like a tornado had just ripped through. Dawn was packing for California, and every single surface was littered with clothes. She could have held a rummage sale. When our parents got married, we started out as roommates, bu
t it was a disaster, and we decided on separate rooms. I glanced at the piles of clothes scattered around and remembered why.

  “You look great in pink and blue,” I said defensively. “I wasn’t just being polite. Anyway, why don’t you bring both of them? You can always use an extra suit at the beach.”

  Dawn started to laugh. “An extra suit!” she said, sitting up and drawing her knees to her chin. “I’m bringing six bathing suits with me — three bikinis and three tank suits.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little silly. Dawn really dresses like an “individual,” and to her, a bathing suit is more than something to swim in. It’s a fashion statement.

  “Hey, I just thought of something,” she said. “I’ve got a string bikini that would look great on you. It’s one of those green metallic ones. You know, the kind that always looks wet?”

  “No thanks,” I said quickly. “I’m all set.” I could just picture what my father would do if he thought I was packing a string bikini for Sea City! Even though Dad has mellowed a lot in the last few months, he’s still pretty conservative. It’s hard to believe, but in the old days, I had so many rules, I felt like I was in boot camp. I had to be home by nine, I had to wear my hair in pigtails, and worst of all, my father picked out my clothes for me. I think part of the reason is that my mother died when I was little, and Dad had to be a mother and a father to me. Luckily, he has loosened up a lot, even though he will never be as casual about things as Sharon (Dawn’s mom) is.

  I was Dawn’s first friend when she moved to Stoneybrook after her parents got divorced. We got along great from day one. You can imagine how surprised we were when we discovered that her mom and my dad went to high school together, and that they’d even gone steady. Their story is very romantic (and a little sad) because although they’d loved each other, they’d broken up. Why? Because Dawn’s grandparents didn’t approve of my father! Anyway, years later, when Sharon and my dad met each other again, they realized that they still were in love and finally decided to get married. All of us moved into Dawn’s house, and although things were a little rocky at first, everyone is happy now.