Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Stacey's Lie, Page 3

Ann M. Martin


  Not too long after they met, Dawn and Mary Anne became more than good friends. They became stepsisters! Unbelievable but true! Looking through Mrs. Schafer’s old high school yearbook, they found out that she and Mr. Spier had once been boyfriend and girlfriend. Things hadn’t worked out back then, but now Mrs. Schafer was divorced and Mr. Spier was a widower (Mary Anne’s mother died when Mary Anne was small) so they had a second chance. And Mary Anne and Dawn were going to see that they made the most of it. It took some conniving to get their parents out on a date, but they did it. And, what seemed like a trillion dates later, Dawn’s mother married Mary Anne’s father.

  They all moved into Dawn’s cool old (built in 1795!) farmhouse on Burnt Hill Road. (The house has an actual secret passage which runs from Dawn’s room to the barn out back. It was once a stop on the Underground Railroad which helped escaped slaves flee from the South to Canada.)

  At first, Dawn and Mary Anne were thrilled to be stepsisters. But then they found that becoming a family wasn’t as easy as they’d thought. The first big new-family crisis was over food. Dawn and her mother eat health food like tofu, miso, and no red meat. Mary Anne and her father eat regular food. They couldn’t even get a meal together without half the family being revolted by what the other half of the family was eating.

  There were all sorts of little problems along the way. But now they seem to be working everything out all right. Mary Anne’s father loosened up some of his rules enough so that Mary Anne could start dressing more her age. He even went with her when she got her hair cut into a cute, short style.

  Things were going so well that it was sort of surprising when Dawn announced recently that she wanted to go to California to spend time with Jeff and her dad. Mary Anne tries to understand (she’s a very sensitive and understanding person), but I know she misses Dawn a lot.

  Anyway, back to BSC history: there we were with a five-member club, when I got the big news that my family would be moving back to New York City. While I was gone, the club took on two new members, Mallory (Mal) Pike and Jessi Ramsey. Both girls are eleven and in the sixth grade (and they happen to be best friends). Because of their age they’re junior officers. Basically that means they can only sit in the daytime, unless they’re taking care of their own siblings. Still, what they do frees us older members (the rest of us are thirteen) to take on more jobs.

  Like me, Jessi came to Stoneybrook because her father was transferred here. As I mentioned, she moved right into my old house. She’s originally from Oakley, New Jersey. Her neighborhood there was comfortably integrated — there were probably more black families on her block than there are in all of Stoneybrook. (Oh, did I say that Jessi is African-American? Well, she is.) Anyway, at first some of their new Stoneybrook neighbors let the Ramseys know they weren’t pleased about an African-American family moving in. This was Jessi’s first encounter with prejudice, and it was miserable. But her family hung in, and now they feel at home here. They have good friends and neighbors.

  Jessi’s family consists of her parents, herself (of course), her sister Becca (who is eight), and her little brother, Squirt, who’s two. (His real name is John Philip, Jr.) Plus her aunt Cecelia, who came to live with them when Mrs. Ramsey went back to work.

  Jessi is a very talented ballerina. She takes lessons in Stamford, which is the closest city to Stoneybrook. She’s already appeared in several professional productions. I’m sure she’ll go on to be a real star.

  I think Mallory might grow up to be famous, too. But not as a ballerina, as an author. Mal wants to write and illustrate children’s books. One of her stories has already won an award in a school contest.

  Mal has everything she needs to be a successful children’s book author. She has a good sense of humor, a nice way with words, a great imagination, and she knows kids really well. That’s because she’s the oldest of eight! After Mal come the ten-year-old triplets, Adam, Byron, and Jordan; Vanessa (nine); Nicky (eight); Margo (seven); and finally, Clarie, who is five.

  Mal has curly brown hair with reddish highlights. She wears glasses and braces, and she hates her nose. Mal doesn’t think she’s pretty, but I bet she’ll be a knockout one of these days. I don’t think her nose is so awful, for starters. Someday she can get contact lenses (her parents say she’s too young right now) and eventually, the braces will come off. Mal can’t wait.

  I glanced over at Claudia’s caricature. Mal even looked cute in that.

  As I looked at the sketch my eye fell on the picture of Shannon Kilbourne, who stood next to Mal in the picture. Shannon is the newest member of the BSC. And as I was studying Claud’s sketch of Shannon to see if it was a true resemblance, she walked in the door.

  “All right! I’m on time!” cheered Shannon as she came into the room.

  I glanced at Claudia’s digital clock. It was 5:26. Kristy, who is the club president, is very strict about punctuality. But Shannon is hardly ever late; she’s Kristy’s neighbor and they usually arrive together. “I had a rehearsal at school today,” she explained. “I’m in a comedy sketch the honor society is doing at the last-day assembly.”

  Shannon doesn’t go to Stoneybrook Middle School like the rest of us. She attends Stoneybrook Day school, a private school on the other end of town.

  That might sound snobby, but Shannon’s no snob. She’s really nice. Actually, Kristy thought she was a snob when she first met her. But that had more to do with Kristy’s adjusting to her new, wealthy neighborhood than it had to do with Shannon.

  Kristy used to live right on Bradford Court, across the street from the Kishis. Then her mother married this man named Watson Brewer. After the wedding, the Thomas family all moved across town to a much fancier section of Stoneybrook where Watson’s mansion was located. That’s right, I said mansion! Watson just happens to be a millionaire.

  Mansion or not, Kristy wasn’t happy about the move at first. (She’s not the kind of person to be impressed by things like mansions. She’s the most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met.) She felt a little cut off from the rest of us. But soon we came up with the idea of paying her older brother Charlie to drive her to BSC meetings. And after awhile she got to like Watson. Plus, she adores Watson’s kids from his first marriage, Karen (seven) and Andrew (four), and they adore her. They spend every other month with Watson. Kristy also gained another younger sister when Watson and her mother adopted a little Vietnamese girl whom they named Emily Michelle. She’s two and a half now.

  Anyway, Shannon’s house is right across the street from Watson’s and that’s how Kristy met Shannon. At first, Shannon was just an associate BSC member. She didn’t come to meetings, but we called her if we were offered a job that none of us could take. With Dawn in California, Shannon has started coming to meetings regularly. The better we come to know her, the better we like her. She’s smart, cute (curly blonde hair, big blue eyes), funny, and friendly. She has two younger sisters, Tiffany and Maria, and a Bernese mountain dog named Astrid of Grenville.

  We do still have one associate member. He’s Mary Anne’s boyfriend, Logan Bruno. Logan is originally from Kentucky and has the cutest southern drawl. He and Mary Anne are super tight.

  By 5:30, everyone was in the room. “Okay, let’s get started,” Kristy said in her usual no-nonsense way. “Stacey, what’s our treasury like right now?”

  “Well, it’s Monday, dues day. After everyone pays up, I think we’ll be in good shape,” I reported. We all have official titles and jobs. (Actually, Mal and Jessi have titles, but no duties.) As you may have guessed, I’m the treasurer. I fished a manila envelope from my school backpack. It holds our dues. I collect dues each week and then try to spend the money as carefully as possible. “We’re paid up with Charlie for this month. And we paid the monthly basic charges on Claudia’s phone bill last week.”

  Claudia is vice-president, since she’s the only one of us who has her own phone line with her own number. Without that, the club wouldn’t work nearly as smoothly. That’s why we meet in he
r room.

  “What about Kid-Kits?” Kristy questioned.

  Kid-Kits are another of Kristy’s great ideas. Each of us has a kit (made from a cardboard carton) filled with hand-me-down toys, coloring books, crayons, and whatever things we think the kids we sit for would enjoy. We don’t bring them to every job, but they’re always a hit when we do.

  “We just restocked most of the kits two weeks ago,” I reported. “Anyone need any new stuff?” I looked around as everyone shook their heads, no.

  “Is there anything else we’re going to need money for?” Kristy asked the group.

  “Filler paper and a new notebook,” Mary Anne said. “This record book is about full and so is our club notebook.” Mary Anne is the club secretary. She’s in charge of scheduling and is an ace at it. She keeps a record book filled with clients’ names, addresses, and phone numbers, rates paid, special info about the children we sit for, and all of our schedules — when I’m going to be in New York, when Jessi has a ballet class, when Mal has an orthodontist appointment, when Kristy has to coach her softball team. Everything. With this information, she schedules the baby-sitting jobs we take. The record book was Kristy’s idea, but Mary Anne makes it work.

  In the notebook we all record our baby-sitting experiences, sort of the way you write in a diary. Everybody reads it, so we all know what’s happening with clients.

  I dug into the envelope and came up with a five-dollar bill. “This should cover a pack of paper and new notebook,” I said, handing her the bill.

  “Anything else?” asked Kristy.

  “I can’t think of anything,” said Shannon, who has taken over Dawn’s job as alternate officer (at least until Dawn returns). Being alternate means she has to know how to do everyone’s job in case someone is out sick.

  “How much is left in the treasury?” Kristy asked me.

  “Twenty,” I said, “and I’m about to collect more.” Everyone frowned and grumbled the way they always do when it’s time to pay dues.

  Kristy sat forward. “We should have enough money to do it,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Do what?” asked Mal, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  “Cover the cost of having some fliers photocopied. The other day Mary Anne told me that a lot of our regular clients are going on vacation in early July. I thought this might be a good time to try to drum up some new customers. Claudia’s drawing gave me the idea. We could put the sketch at the top, and writing underneath it. What do you think?” Kristy smiled, obviously very pleased with her idea.

  “It’s a great idea, but this might not be the best time to look for new business,” I said sheepishly. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Kristy I’d be going away. Being short-handed makes her very uneasy. But I had no choice. “I’m going on vacation the first two weeks in July. Claud’s coming with me.”

  “What?” Kristy cried.

  “Uh, Kristy,” Jessi spoke up from her spot beside Mal. “It’s not a good time for Mal or me, either. We were about to ask you if you could spare us for the first two weeks of July.”

  “Why?” Kristy asked, Looking very stressed.

  Jessi and Mal exchanged anxious glances. “Jessi and I have been offered paid jobs as counselors for the first two-week session of the day camp run by the Community Center,” Mal explained. “Mary Anne told us things were going to be slow, so we thought maybe we’d try it.”

  “Have you accepted the jobs yet?” Kristy asked.

  “Sort of,” Jessi admitted. But a lot of the kids we usually sit for are signed up for the day camp, so it’s almost like taking regular sitting jobs. I mean, if they’re in camp, their parents won’t be calling here.”

  Kristy folded her arms and sighed. “Logan’s going away too, isn’t he, Mary Anne?” Mary Anne nodded. “So that leaves Mary Anne, Shannon, and me to cover all the jobs in early July. That’s just swell!”

  “It really will be slow,” Mary Anne said soothingly. “It’s starting already. It’s five-thirty-eight and the phone hasn’t rung once. When was the last time that happened?” She was right. We’d usually taken two or three jobs by now.

  “Okay,” Kristy said, clearly still annoyed.

  “I have an idea,” I offered, wanting to make Kristy feel better. “Why don’t you guys all plan to come out to Fire Island for a four-day weekend over the Fourth of July?”

  “We’ll probably be working,” said Mal.

  “We hardly ever have jobs over the Fourth,” Mary Anne said thoughtfully. “It’s a real family holiday.”

  “I don’t know,” said Kristy. “I’d feel as though we were letting our customers down.”

  “I know!” cried Claudia, holding up her sketch. “We can do up fliers, but instead of drumming up new clients we’ll just write, ‘The BSC will be off from July 3 through July 7, Happy Fourth!’ That way our customers will have advance warning.”

  “Come on, Kristy,” I said. “Live a little. Take a break.”

  Kristy frowned, but her eyes were thoughtful. “Maybe. I just don’t know. Maybe.”

  “We’re on our way!” I cried out happily as the train pulled out of the Stoneybrook station. Claudia leaned across me and waved out the window to her mother, who was still on the platform. She’d taken a break from her job and driven us to the station right after school. Kristy and Shannon had come to say good-bye, too.

  Soon they were out of sight. “This is so exciting,” said Claudia, settling back in her seat. “I’m really glad Kristy agreed to come out on the Fourth with Mary Anne and Shannon. It’s going to be great!” Suddenly Claudia frowned. “Gosh, I’m sorry! Here I’m going on about how happy I am and forgetting how bad you must feel about Robert. Was it hard to say good-bye to him at the end of school today?”

  Of course, the true answer was, Not at all. See you tomorrow, was the exact text of the farewell speech I’d given to Robert.

  “It wasn’t too bad,” I said (which was perfectly true).

  “I guess you’ll really miss him,” Claudia said.

  “I’ll be all right,” I assured her.

  “I sure admire the mature way you’re handling this,” Claudia said.

  “Thank you,” I replied. So far, I hadn’t actually lied to her, but I was starting to feel a little guilty anyway. Is allowing someone to continue thinking something which isn’t true the same as lying? It felt uncomfortably close.

  I pushed the guilty feelings aside. After all, I wasn’t hurting anyone. “What’s the first thing you want to do when we get there?” I asked Claudia.

  “Head to the beach,” she replied. Soon we were happily planning every second of our vacation.

  The train ride to the city takes just under two hours. Finally, we pulled into Grand Central Station. “I love the city, but it scares me a little,” Claudia admitted as she pulled one of her two flowered bags from the overhead luggage rack.

  “You can’t be half as scared as Dawn was when we all came to the city together,” I said. “Remember that?”

  “She was pretty nervous,” Claud agreed. I laughed as I watched Claud struggle with her bags. “I sure hope the house Dad rented has big closets,” I said. Claudia and I are too much alike when it comes to clothing. We’d both packed way more than we’d ever need! Like Claudia, I also had two suitcases, plus two tennis rackets.

  We wobbled off the train, staggering under the weight of all our stuff.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Dad laughed when he saw us coming. He hurried toward us from the information booth, where he’d been waiting, and took our bags, leaving us the rackets.

  We hailed a cab and rode back to his apartment. That night Dad ordered in some Middle Eastern food. We ate falafel sandwiches on pita bread, baba ghanouj (mashed eggplant with garlic and tahini) and rolled grape leaves. I love this kind of food and you can’t find it in Stoneybrook. (They make baba ghanouj at Dawn’s favorite health food restaurant, but it just doesn’t taste as good, if you ask me.) Then Dad finished up some last-minute work on his computer
, while Claudia and I watched a Johnny Depp movie on cable (Claud and I both think he is extremely cute).

  We went to bed early since we’d be getting up at six the next morning. Claud slept on the futon in my room. “You know,” she said as I was just falling asleep. “I really appreciate your bringing me along with you. I mean, you don’t get to see your father that much, so it would have been understandable if you didn’t want anybody else along. But, you wanted me to come, too. I think that’s really nice.”

  “Sure I wanted you to come,” I said sleepily. “I think you’ll like it there.”

  “You’re a great friend, Stacey,” Claudia said.

  “So are you, Claud. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  My eyes were closed, but a small pang of guilt was keeping me from falling asleep. Claudia was right. This was a unique chance to spend time with my father. But what I was really most excited about was spending time with Robert. And would Claudia have thought I was such a great friend if she knew I hadn’t told her about Robert’s being there?

  I pushed these thoughts out of my mind. I wasn’t hurting anyone, so I wasn’t going to feel guilty. I turned on my side and went to sleep.

  The next morning, Claudia, Dad, and I ate breakfast at a nearby coffee shop. No one spoke much, since none of us is what you’d call a morning person. Then Dad waved down a cab. He helped the driver load our luggage into the trunk, and we rode down to Pennsylvania Station where you catch the Long Island Railroad trains.

  Dad slept all the way out to Jamaica Station. There I had to poke him to wake him up. We all lugged our stuff across the platform, where we caught another train for Patchogue, which is way out on Long Island. By the time we dragged our stuff off the train at the Patchogue station, we had been traveling for more than two hours.