Little Miss Stoneybrook...and Dawn (3 page)

Us baby-sitters try not to play favorites among the kids we take care of, but it's no secret that Kristy's favorite charges are her brother David
Michael, and her stepsister and stepbrother, Karen and Andrew. She doesn't see Karen and Andrew all that often, since they only spend every other weekend, every other holiday, and two weeks during the summer at Watson's house, but she sees them enough, I guess, and she really loves them.

Who wouldn't? Karen is this funny, daring, imaginative, outspoken six-year-old. She likes to tell wild stories and make up games. And Andrew is a shy, sweet, and adoring four-year-old. Then there's David Michael, who's seven. Sometimes he and Karen don't get along too well, but he's a good kid. Kristy has been a second mother to him. Her real father left so long ago that David Michael barely remembers him, and then her mom went back to work. So Kristy has taken plenty of care of David Michael over the years.

Anyway, not long after the newspaper article about Little Miss Stoneybrook, Kristy was sitting for the three kids. It was a Saturday afternoon, and as she mentioned in her notebook entry, her mother and Watson had gone to some auction to bid on a birdbath. Why? I don't know.

As soon as they were gone, Karen said, “Let's play ‘Let's All Come In.'” (“Let's All Come In” is a game she made up. You need about four — or
more — people to play, and what you do is pretend you're guests at a fancy hotel. You get to dress up in wild outfits and be all different people.)

Ordinarily, David Michael does not like this game.

“It's for babies,” he announced that afternoon.

“I'm going to play,” Kristy told him.

“Yeah, but you get to be the bell captain. That's not such a stupid part. The bell captain doesn't have to dress up like countesses.”

“Or dogs,” added Andrew. As the youngest, he usually gets stuck with the worst roles.

“Well, you can be the bell captain this time,” Kristy said to David Michael. “I'll play guests instead.”

“I don't know …” he replied.

“Aw, come on, David Michael,” said Karen. “It's raining out. What else will you do if the rest of us play ‘Let's All Come In'?”

David Michael frowned. He didn't have an answer for that.

So the game began.

David Michael, as bell captain, stood in the living room, which was the hotel lobby. He was supposed to talk to the various guests and direct them to their rooms.

Karen got to be the first guest. She dressed up as Mrs. Mysterious, on her way to a witch convention. Mrs. Mysterious was one of her favorite characters.

“Heh, heh,” she cackled. “What a lovely, spooky convention it will be. Hundreds of witches. Maybe a ghost or a goblin or two. Well, what room am I in this time?” Before David Michael could answer, Karen went on, “I hope it's the Halloween Suite. I'm just
dying
to stay there again.”

“Yeah,” said David Michael, looking a little bored. He pretended to consult the hotel registration book. “It's the Halloween Suite, all right. I hope you like it. See ya later.”

Karen gave him an exasperated look. “My
key
, please?” she said.

“Oh, right.” David Michael slapped the spare key to the downstairs bathroom into her hand.

Mrs. Mysterious left the room and Andrew entered. For once, Karen had given him a pretty good part. He was dressed as a sailor.

“Hiya, mate,” David Michael greeted him.

“Hiya, mate. I need a room for two nights. Our ship just landed here. I want to be a, um, a …”

“A landlubber,” Karen prompted him from the doorway. (While she was dressing Andrew
up, she had told him a few things that sailors might say.)

“A landlubber,” finished Andrew.

“Naw. Really?” replied David Michael. “Don't you want to be on the ocean again? Be in a storm? Maybe see some pirates?”

“Yeah, pirates!” Andrew answered excitedly. “Say, you want to come back to my ship with me?”

“Sure!”

“Hey!” cried Karen. That wasn't the way the game was supposed to go.

But it was too late.

“We'll be pirates ourselves!” David Michael went on.

“Wait! You're the bell captain,” Karen said desperately.

“No, I'm not. I'm Old Bad John. And this is my co-pirate, Andrew the Awful. Come on, Andrew.”

The boys ran out of the living room, Andrew shedding parts of his sailor costume on the way.

Karen looked at Kristy with tears in her eyes, which was unusual. Karen is tough, not a crier.

“Oh, Karen,” said Kristy. She opened her arms for a hug, and Karen ran to her. “It's okay,” Kristy murmured.

“No, it's not,” Karen sobbed, her voice muffled against Kristy's shoulder.

Kristy patted her back.

“There are too many boys around here,” said Karen, obviously thinking of Kristy's big brothers, as well as Andrew and David Michael. And probably mad that Andrew had chosen to play with someone other than Karen herself.

“Well, us girls will just have to stick together, that's all,” replied Kristy. And that was what made her think of the Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant.

“Hey,” Kristy went on. “Do you know what a pageant is?”

Karen pulled back and looked at Kristy. She gulped. She sniffed. She wiped her eyes. “Like Miss America?” she replied.

“Exactly.”

“Where the beautiful, beautiful ladies dress up in sparkles and sit on pianos and sing songs?”

“Yes.”

“I saw the Miss America pageant on TV.”

“Well, guess what. There's going to be a Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant right here in town. You can be in it if you're a girl and you're five to eight years old.”

Karen's eyes grew huge. Her tears stopped. She began wiggling all over like a puppy. “Me! That's me! I'm five to eight! I mean, I'm six. Could I be in the pageant? Could I wear sparkles and stuff?”

“You'd want to be in the pageant?” Kristy asked her, just to make sure.

“Yes, yes, yes! What would I have to do?”

“Well, for one thing, you'd need some sort of talent. A talent show is part of the contest.”

“I could sit on a piano and sing! Or I could tap dance, or — or twirl a baton, or make a doll talk.”

“But Karen,” Kristy said, “you don't know how to do those things. You've never taken lessons.”

“I can sing!” Karen exclaimed. “Anyone can do that. Listen to this.
The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round.
Oh, you know the rest, Kristy. A million verses.
The driver on the bus says, ‘Move on back, move on back.'
I could make up more verses. And what do you mean, I can't tap dance?”

Karen found her black patent leather party shoes and stomped across the wooden floor of the hallway. “See?” she said. “I can too tap dance.”

Kristy told Karen about the beauty and poise
parts of the pageant and meeting the judges and everything.

Karen grew more and more excited. “If I win I get a crown, right? And maybe a big bunch of roses?”

“Well, don't count on winning,” replied Kristy. “I mean, you just never know.” But then she went on, “If you
did
win, you'd get to be in another pageant, the county pageant.”

“Oh, I just
have
to be Little Miss Stoneybrook!” cried Karen. “I have to!”

I suppose that at that moment, Kristy felt like I did when Mrs. Pike offered me the special job with Claire and Margo. Here was her chance to prove how great she was with kids.

So when her mother and Watson came home later with their birdbath, she and Karen told them about the pageant.

“Please can I be in it?” Karen pleaded. “Please, please, please? With a cherry on top?”

“Oh, honey,” said Kristy's mother. She glanced at Watson. “I hate the idea of beauty pageants. Won't you be disappointed if you don't win?” she asked Karen.

“With a cherry and whipped cream and nuts on top?” was Karen's reply. “I'll get to sing and everyone will watch me.”

Watson shrugged. “If that's what she wants, I don't see what harm could come from entering her in the contest. I'll have to check with her mother first, though. And, Kristy, are you prepared to take the responsibility of getting Karen ready for the pageant?”

“Oh,
sure
,” replied Kristy, thinking that (as far as she was concerned) that was half the point.

So Watson called his ex-wife and they talked things over. They decided Karen could enter the Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant.

Kristy and Karen were both thrilled.

When I found out, I was nervous. I felt as if suddenly the contest had become Claire, Margo, and me against Kristy and Karen.

“I'll clear the table,” said Jeff.

It was dinnertime, and Jeff had been unusually helpful ever since Mom had said she'd see if he could go back to California after all. Helpful and pleasant.

“That's okay. It's my turn tonight,” I replied, jumping up.

“No, no. I'll do it.” Jeff was already on his feet.

I glanced at Mom, who was still picking at her eggplant. She hadn't eaten much that night, although she'd seemed to be in a good mood. She'd told us all about a baby shower that had been held that day at the company where she works. One of Mom's friends was going to have a baby in a few weeks.

“It was fun,” she'd said, “but by the time it was over, I thought if I heard one more person say, ‘Oh, isn't that
cute
?' I'd get sick. That's what everyone kept saying. Each time Kelly opened a
present, we all said, ‘Oh, isn't that
cute
?' Even
I
did. Even when she opened the gift
I
gave her!”

Jeff and I had laughed.

Now I watched Mom poke at her food.

“You all finished?” asked Jeff. He was hovering at Mom's elbow. The rest of the table had been cleared.

Mom put her fork down. “Yup. All done. The eggplant wasn't very good, was it?” she asked.

“It was fine,” Jeff and I replied together.

“Thank you for being such polite children,” said Mom with a smile.

“Hey, am I completely off the hook tonight?” I asked hopefully. “If you don't need me in the kitchen, then I'll go start my homework.”

“I don't need you in the kitchen,” Mom answered, “but I need you in the living room. Jeff, too. I want to talk to you.”

Jeff and I glanced at each other curiously. “Right now?” I asked.

Mom looked around the kitchen. She sighed.

“Sure. Right now. This mess can wait, I suppose.”

Jeff and I followed Mom into the living room. She indicated that we should sit on the couch.

We sat.

Mom sat in a chair facing us.

She smoothed her hair back from her face. “Well,” she began, rubbing her hands together nervously, “I don't know how to say this except just to
say
it. Jeff, we've worked everything out. You may go back to California and try living with your father for six months.”

Jeff was so stunned that he couldn't even answer, but I could see excitement written all over his face. There was no way he could hide it.

And how did I feel? Shocked, that's how.

“Mom, you
didn't
!” I exclaimed.

“Didn't what?”

“Go through with it.”

“Honey, you knew I was going to. Or that I was going to try to, anyway.”

“When do I leave?” Jeff wanted to know.

“Well, not for a little while. But as soon as all the arrangements have been made. There's still a lot to do. I mean, aside from packing, there are papers to be drawn up and signed, I've got to send your school and medical records back to California, your dad has to find a housekeeper, and he'll have to re-enroll you at Vista.” (Vista was the school Jeff and I had gone to in California.)

“How long will all that take?” Jeff said.

“A couple of weeks, I guess.”

“Only two weeks? All
right
!” Jeff's excitement was growing. He wouldn't be able to contain it much longer.

I understood how he was feeling. But I wasn't feeling anything at all myself. I was numb. Once, I had an infected finger. A splinter had gone in and I couldn't get it out. My father said he would try to get it out for me. Before he started “operating” he held an ice cube on my finger to numb it. That's how I felt now. As if someone had applied a giant ice cube to my body. And to my brain, as well.

“I can't believe you're letting him go,” I said harshly to Mom.

“I don't think I have much choice,” she said.

“Yes, you do. People always have choices. And you're making this one.”

“Okay,” agreed Mom. “Maybe you're right. But I think it's the best choice.”

“How can it be the best choice when it hurts so much?”

Jeff was looking back and forth from Mom to me as we spoke. He looked like he was watching a game of Ping-Pong.

“Right choices aren't necessarily easy ones,” Mom countered.

“They should be,” I said crossly.

“I'm sorry, honey.”

I paused.

Jeff looked at me. “Your turn,” he said. He smiled, but I didn't smile back. Nevertheless, Jeff couldn't contain himself anymore. He leaped off the couch. He kissed my mother. He went jumping around the room. “All
right
! All
right
!” he kept shrieking. “Thanks, Mom! Just think — no more Ms. Besser, no more Jerry Haney, no more fights or trouble or homesickness.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said to him.

“What do you mean?”

“You won't be homesick for us? You mean that when you're in California you won't miss us anymore? That's nice, Jeff. That's real nice. You are so, so thoughtful.” I bit my lip to keep from crying.

“Aw, come on, Dawn. Can't you be happy for me?”

“No!”

“Dawn, try to understand —” my mom began, but I cut her off.

“I understand plenty. Jeff can't wait to get out of here. He can't wait to leave us behind —”

“It's not that,” Jeff broke in. “That's not true at all. It's just that nothing's working out. I don't belong here.”

“You don't belong with your own mother and sister?” I asked incredulously.

“I belong with Dad, too,” he replied. Then he grinned. “I gotta call the Pike triplets. They won't believe this. And then, Mom, can I call Jason?” (Jason is one of Jeff's California friends.)

“Sure,” replied Mom.

I threw myself against the cushions of the couch and sulked. I felt guilty. I felt guilty because there I was, making a fuss over Jeff's leaving, when I wouldn't have minded going right along with him. He wasn't the only one who missed Dad. I did, too. And I missed my friend Sunny, and I missed the kids I used to baby-sit for. Face it. I wanted to go back to California, too. But I wouldn't leave Mom. No way. We were much too close for that. Besides, I liked Stoneybrook, too. Even in the middle of the freezing cold, snowy, icy winter, I liked Stoneybrook. What I wished was that we hadn't moved at all. Then I wouldn't feel so confused.

“Dawn?” said Mom gently.

“Yeah?”

“I know you're upset. This must be tough on you. It's more than just the fact that Jeff's leaving, isn't it?”

I nodded. “I miss California, too — Oh, but I want to stay here,” I assured her. “But I do miss Dad and Sunny and good old Vista…. Mom, don't you feel hurt that Jeff is so excited about leaving us?”

“I don't think he's so much excited about leaving us as he is about getting back to California. He's relieved to be leaving Connecticut behind. That's not quite the same as wanting to leave
us
.”

“I guess not.”

Mom sat down next to me and pulled me to her. She stroked my hair. “I've told you this before, sweetie. Jeff
will
miss us. Once he's back in California he'll miss us. And he'll want to visit us. But I don't think he'll want to live with us. His experience here has not been good. And that wasn't our fault and we can't change what's happened.”

“I know,” I said finally. “I guess I'm just … sad. I wish there were some way to keep him here.”

“Oh, we could keep him here, all right,” Mom told me, “but it would be like keeping a wild bird in a cage. Unfair. And the bird would be unhappy. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I don't like it, but I understand.”

Mom kissed me on the forehead. “We're going to be fine, you and I,” she said. “You were my first baby, my special girl.”

“Sometimes,” I said, “I feel more like your sister than your daughter.”

“Funny. I feel more like your sister than your mother.”

We smiled ruefully at each other.

“I think I'll go to my room,” I said.

Mom nodded.

“On second thought, I'll go to your room. If Jeff's off the phone, can I call Mary Anne?”

“Of course.”

In Mom's room I dialed Mary Anne's number. I hoped she would keep her head when I gave her the awful news. Mary Anne cries so easily that sometimes you wind up comforting her when it should be the other way around.

But Mary Anne was great. She said she knew how awful I must feel. She said the arrangement stank. She said Jeff was being selfish. Her voice only wobbled once.

When I got off the phone I went to my room and closed the door. I flopped on my bed. I began to cry, but before I really let go, I hastily wiped my tears away.

I started to think about Claire and Margo and the pageant instead. I was supposed to work with them the next day. I wondered what they could do. Sing? Claire knew her brother Nicky's silly song about jingle bells and Batman smelling, but I wasn't sure what else. Margo was hopelessly uncoordinated, so dancing and baton-twirling were out of the question. She could stand on her head, but that probably didn't qualify as talent. Maybe I could teach her a song on the piano. (The Pikes have a grand piano.) And maybe Claire knew some other songs. I hoped so.

I would find out the very next day.