BSC094 - Stacey McGill, Super Sitter - Martin, Ann M.
Chapter 1.
"Hurry! Run!" I told Robert. He grabbed my hand and together we raced down Slate Street.
As we ran hand in hand (or should I say glove in glove?), Robert smiled at me, which always just knocks me out.
Robert and I have been going together for awhile now, but I still can't believe it. He is the best. I enjoy every second we spend together.
We ran until we reached my front door. Panting, we stopped to catch our breath. The frozen winter afternoon was so cold that smoky mist puffed out of our mouths. "That worked," Robert said, laughing. "I'm not so cold anymore." I'd warmed up, too, which was why I'd suggested running in the first place. "Let's get inside," I said, fumbling in my bag for the keys to my front door. (It's so hard to find things while wearing woolen gloves!) When I finally unlocked the door, it felt good to be inside my warm house. With a shiver I peeled off my hot pink parka. "Oh, my gosh!" I laughed as I tried to pull off my pink beret. The hat tugged at my blonde permed hair.
"Wow," Robert said. "Your house is so quiet." I paused and listened. The only noise was the gentle thunk of the boiler as it kicked on. It was pretty silent. I guess I hadn't noticed before.
"Doesn't it give you the creeps?" Robert asked, taking off his jacket.
"No," I answered. "Why should it?" "I'm just not used to coming home to an empty house, I suppose," Robert replied. "When I get home there's always someone around." "Mom will be home at six," I told him. She works for Bellair's department store. She's a buyer, which means she decides what Bellair's will sell.
My dad was at his office in Manhattan. But I wouldn't see him for another week and a half. That's because my parents are divorced. Mom and I live here in Connecticut. Dad still lives in Manhattan, where I lived for most of my life.
As I led Robert into the kitchen, the phone rang. "Hello?" I said, snapping up the receiver.
"Stacey, it's Dad," my father's voice said from the other end.
"Dad, hi! What's up?" "I just thought I'd call to see how you are. I figured you might be lonely there all alone till your mother gets home." "Oh, I'm not alone. Robert's here with me," I told him.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Dad?" I asked. "Are you there?" Dad coughed. "I'm here. Uh ... is it all right with your mother if Robert's in the house when she's not around?" he asked in an anxious voice.
"Oh, sure," I told him honestly. "You've met Robert. He's cool. We're just going to do some homework here in the kitchen. That's Mom's rule. We stay in the kitchen." "All right, I suppose," said Dad. "That's probably all right." I opened the refrigerator and handed Robert a bottle of raspberry-flavored seltzer while Dad and I talked briefly about a Broadway musical he'd seen the night before. He loved it and said he'd be willing to see it again with me when I came down to visit. "Want to do Broadway with your old dad?" he teased.
"Absolutely. Get tickets!" I told him enthusiastically. I adore Manhattan, and my dad is really fun. So I love doing things in Manhattan with him. It's a great combination.
Don't get me wrong, I like Stoneybrook, Connecticut, where I live now. But it's not nearly as exciting as the city. I think I'll always be a city person at heart.
I said good-bye to Dad and hung up. "Yes!" I cheered, turning to Robert. "Broadway, here I come. Dad and I are going to see a musical. Broadway is so exciting. The last time we saw a show we had supper in this restaurant nearby and we sat next to these two men who were discussing what stars they wanted for a play they were producing. They were mentioning names like Keanu Reeves, Macaulay Culkin, and Winona Ryder. Dad and I didn't talk for the whole meal. We just sat there and eavesdropped. It was really cool." "You really love the city, don't you?" Robert asked as I opened the fridge again and pulled out a bunch of raw carrots.
"Sure I do," I replied, peeling a carrot over the sink. I wasn't really hungry but I knew I'd better eat. You see, I'm diabetic and I can't let myself get too hungry. Being diabetic means eating a lot of small meals and healthy snacks throughout the day. And I do mean healthy snacks. Sugar can send my body into orbit.
Serious stuff. I could go into a coma, even die, if I cheat on treats. So I watch what I eat, test my blood sugar level regularly, and give myself insulin injections every day.
There's no doubt about it. Having diabetes is a major drag.
Having divorced parents is a drag, too.
But, hey, those are the facts of my life, so I might as well make the best of things. Most of the time I don't let the divorce or the diabetes get me down.
"Want a carrot?" I asked, turning back to Robert.
"No, thanks." Robert sat at the kitchen table. "Do you think you'll move back to the city when you're older?" "I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe. Probably." Robert sighed comically. "You'll leave all us country folk behind and go for the glamour," he teased.
"You're not exactly Farmer Rob," I pointed out as I sat beside him.
"I know, but I wouldn't like living in the city. I've only been there a few times and it seemed so noisy and big." "Who cares about a little noise? And the bigness makes it exciting," I countered.
"No, the city isn't for me." "I bet I could make a city lover out of you," I said, lightly squeezing his hand. "You just haven't seen the good parts yet. You need someone like me to guide you. For example, during the day Broadway looks sort of seedy but at night, when it's all lit up, it's magic." "I've never even been to Broadway, Stacey." "Well, then someday we'll go. Together," I said. "You'll love it." "I don't know." Robert shook his head. "I don't think we'll ever agree about this one." "We could," I said optimistically. "Once I give you the Stacey McGill super city tour you'll be as big a fan as I am. Oh, Robert, I wish you could see the city the way I do. It's so amazing. Every corner has some interesting discovery. You know, we like almost the same things. That's why I'm so sure you'd like the city if you gave it a chance." "Oh, forget it," Robert said with a laugh. "I'll stay here in Stoneybrook and say that I once knew supermodel Stacey McGill." I smiled, embarrassed but pleased. "I doubt it." "You could be," Robert insisted. "You're pretty enough. You're more than pretty, you're beautiful. You already look like a model." "Thanks," I said.
I don't think I'd want to be a model. It sounds boring. I'll probably do something with math, which I'm really good at. But I was very happy that Robert thought I could be a supermodel if I wanted to be. "That's really nice to hear," I added.
Robert leaned forward, bringing his face closer to mine.
And then . . . the phone rang.
Robert laughed and pulled back away from me. "Better get it." Rolling my eyes, I stood up and answered the phone. "Hello?" "Can we afford more glue?" It was Kristy. I know her voice.
"Hi, Kristy. And how are you?" I teased.
"Sorry. Hi. Do we have enough money for glue? Mary Anne and I are at the mall. I was thinking it would be fun to make valentines with the kids but we need glue. Can we afford it?" "How much glue are you buying?" I asked.
"Let me ask Mary Anne," said Kristy.
I suppose I should explain. I'm treasurer of a business called the Baby-Sitters Club (or BSC, for short). Kristy is the president and Mary Anne is the secretary. I'll tell you more about it later.
Kristy got back on the phone. "Mary Anne says five bottles of glue should do it. They're a dollar fifty each." I did a quick mental tally of the dues I'd collected, and subtracted the club expenses we still had to pay out. I added the dues I'd collect next Monday to that sum. "Go for it," I told Kristy.
"Thanks," she replied. "See you tomorrow." "That was Kristy," I told Robert as I hung up. "She wanted to know if we could afford glue." "She's the president. Why doesn't she just go ahead and buy it?" Robert asked.
"You know Kristy," I said. "She does everything by the book." Thanks to Kristy, the romantic mood between Robert and me was broken. We opened our math books and started going over our homework. We had moved on to computer science homework by the time I heard Mom come through the front door. "Hi, you guys," she said cheerfully, rubbing her hands to warm up as she entered the kitchen.
"Hi, Mrs. McGill," Robert said.
"Hi, Mom. How was work?" I asked.
Mom started taking food for dinner out of the cupboards. "Zooey. Can you believe we're already ordering summer clothing from the factories?" "That's encouraging," I said. "It means spring will come someday." "I know what you mean," Mom said. "It sure seems far away right now." Robert and I worked for another half hour until he had to go home for dinner. "So long, Mrs. McGill. 'Bye, Stacey." " 'Bye." I walked him to the door, then returned to the kitchen.
Mom handed me a head of lettuce and I began breaking it up into the large wooden salad bowl. I love this time of day when Mom and I prepare supper together. We talk about the day's events and how we feel about things that have happened. I'm lucky to have such an understanding mom. I can discuss anything with her. She's a parent but she's also a friend. We do a lot of things together and usually have a great time. Since the divorce I think Mom has been kind of lonely, so she looks forward to the time we spend together, too.
"Mom, can you believe Robert has never been to a Broadway play?" I asked thoughtfully.
Mom smiled. "A lot of people have never been to Broadway." "I bet he would love it," I said. "Especially a musical." Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. Robert's birthday was next month. I'd been racking my brain trying to think of the perfect gift for him. So far, I'd come up blank. But now I had it! "I'm going to take Robert to a Broadway musical for his birthday!" I told Mom excitedly.
"Nice idea, Stacey, but have you checked out the price of a ticket lately?" Mom asked. "They're awfully expensive. Two decent seats will probably cost you over a hundred dollars." I swallowed hard. I hadn't realized it was that expensive. But I really wanted to take him. I knew he'd have a great time, and it might even change his opinion of the city.
"I'll talk to Mary Anne," I told Mom. "I'll tell her I want as many baby-sitting jobs as possible." Mary Anne is in charge of assigning the jobs.
I was determined to show Robert the time of his life in New York City. I'd need the money fast, though, so I could be sure to get good tickets.
I couldn't wait until the next club meeting. I was ready, willing, and able to earn as much money as I could in the shortest amount of time possible.
Chapter 2.
As I walked to our Wednesday afternoon BSC meeting, I was psyched to earn money. I crossed my fingers that the phone would ring and ring and ring for the entire half hour with customers calling in need of a sitter.
Of course, I couldn't just gobble up all the jobs. That wouldn't be fair. But I hoped everyone would be super busy with other activities so no one would mind if I took most of the baby-sitting assignments.
Maybe I should back up a bit so you have some clue as to what I'm talking about. The Baby-sitters Club is a group of friends who meet for half an hour three times a week. During those meetings we take calls from parents who need baby-sitters. That way, instead of making seven different phone calls in search of a sitter, they can make one phone call and get in touch with seven qualified sitters at one time.
Neat idea, huh?
It's more like a business than a club, really. But we call it a club because we're all friends as well as coworkers.
The BSC was Kristy Thomas's idea. She thought it up one day while watching her mother go crazy trying to find a sitter for her younger brother. She told her great idea - of having one number where people could reach several sitters - to her best friend Mary Anne Spier. They told their other friend Claudia Kishi and she suggested I join them, too. Claudia has her own phone and her own phone number, so that was perfect for us. We put up fliers advertising our business all over Stoneybrook.
The club was an instant success! It was such a success that we needed more help. That's when we invited Dawn Schafer, who'd just moved here from California, to join.
Things went great for a while, then my dad's company transferred him back to New York City. I felt all mixed up when that happened. I love Manhattan (as you already know). But I'd also made close friends here in Stoneybrook. I hated leaving them. There was nothing I could do about it, though. Off we went, back to Manhattan.
While I was gone, BSC business continued to boom. They needed more help and fast. That was when Kristy recruited Mallory Pike and Jessi Ramsey.
They're eleven, which is why they're junior officers. (The rest of us are thirteen.) As junior officers they baby-sit during the afternoons, and at night only for their own siblings. That leaves the other members free to take the evening jobs, so it works out well.
Anyway, getting back to the club history - things were not going so great for me in Manhattan. Mom and Dad started fighting all the time. Before too long I got the bad news: divorce.
Mom decided to move back to Stoneybrook. And I had to decide which parent to live with. Was that ever a tough one! But after many sleepless nights, I picked Stoneybrook.
Luckily the BSC needed me back. The club was growing like crazy.
Then something unexpected happened. Dawn decided she wanted to visit her father and brother in California. (Her parents are divorced, too.) Her visit went great - too great. When she came home she really missed being in California.