Baby-Sitters Club 041

by Ann M. Martin

  "Oh! Oh, right," exclaimed her husband, sounding nervous again. He turned once more to Jessi. "You know where the emergency numbers are, you know where we'll be, and if you have any problems, Mrs. Frank will be home all day." "Dear?" said Mrs. P. again.

  With that, Mr. P. appeared to forget about Jessi. He helped his wife to her feet, picked up the suitcase, and walked her out the door, which Jessi held open for them. As they made their way slowly down the front walk, Mrs. P. leaned heavily on Mr. P. and Jessi had a sense of deja vu. She remembered her old house in Oakley, New Jersey, she and Becca standing at their front door, their grandmother behind them, as all three watched Mr. Ramsey escort Mrs. Ramsey to the family car. Later that night, Squirt had been born.

  Gosh, thought Jessi. That was about a year and a half ago. It could have been yesterday. And now Squirt was walking, climbing stairs. . . .

  Jessi shook her head. The Prezziosos' car backed hurriedly down the driveway and into the street. Jessi watched until it was out of sight. Then she closed the front door and tiptoed up the stairs to Jenny's room. Her door was ajar, so Jessi peeked in. Jenny lay sprawled on her back, the covers kicked off, one arm slung over the side of the bed.

  Jessi smiled, then tiptoed back downstairs. I'll fix Jenny a nice breakfast, she thought. Maybe that will take the sting out of waking up to find her parents gone - and her position as an only child about to come to an end.

  Jessi had set the table, poured juice for Jenny, and was setting down bread and cereal, when Jenny shuffled into the kitchen.

  "Morning, sleepyhead," teased Jessi. Then she added, "Do you remember who I am?" (She doesn't sit for Jenny very often.) "Jessi?" said Jenny questioningly.

  "That's right! You have a good memory." "You're a baby-sitter," was Jenny's reply. She sounded as if she were accusing Jessi of committing a crime.

  "That's right," said Jessi again.

  "Then where are my mommy and daddy?" "Why don't you sit down and have some breakfast," suggested Jessi. "I'll tell you everything while you're eating." "Okay." Reluctantly, Jenny climbed onto her chair.

  Jessi handed her a piece of toast and a bowl of cereal. Then she sat down across from Jenny. "Something wonderful happened this morning while you were asleep," she began, choosing her words carefully.

  "What?" asked Jenny suspiciously.

  "Your mommy decided she was ready to have the baby. So she and your daddy went to the hospital. Pretty soon you'll have a new brother or sister. Oh, and your daddy promised to call you today whenever he can. So you'll get to talk to him on the phone." Jenny stopped eating her cereal, her spoon halfway to her mouth. She looked bewildered, then puzzled. Finally she said, "What about the stork?" "The stork?" repeated Jessi. And then she remembered. She had read the BSC notebook and knew about Jenny's conversation with Stacey and Claud and me before Mrs. P.'s baby shower.

  Uh-oh, thought Jessi. But she composed herself and said, "Jenny, storks don't bring babies. That's just a silly story. Babies grow inside of mommies." Jenny looked quite thoughtful for several moments. She returned her spoon to her bowl. Then she opened her mouth (Jessi braced herself for the worst) and said, "I thought that stork thing sounded funny!" And that was the end of the conversation. Jessi breathed a sigh -of relief.

  When breakfast was over, Jessi took Jenny upstairs to help her brush her teeth and get dressed. She let Jenny choose her own outfit (something she was pretty sure picky Mrs. P. never did). She figured it wouldn't matter. Mrs. P. would not see Jenny that day.

  Jenny had just finished putting on her clothes - a pink jean skirt, a red shirt, yellow knee socks, and blue sandals - when the phone rang.

  "Maybe it's Daddy!" Jenny shrieked. "Maybe my baby is here." (Her baby? wondered Jessi.) "Can I answer the phone? Please?" "Do you know how to?" asked Jessi.

  "Yes! Mommy taught me. It is a very grown-up thing to do. You can listen if you want." Jenny was already heading for the phone in her parents' bedroom.

  "Okay," said Jessi. "Go to it." Jenny snatched up the receiver. "Hello, Prezziosos'. Who's calling, please?" She listened for a moment. Then she said, "What? . . . What?" and then, "1 have to ask." She took the phone away from her ear. "Jessi," she said, "the man wouldn't tell me his name.

  But he wants to know if we want to buy some . . . cyclopediments?" Jessi, suppressing a smile, said, "Tell him no, then say thank you and good-bye and hang up the phone." Jenny did as she was told. Almost immediately the phone rang again. And Jenny snatched it up again. "Daddy!" she cried a moment later. "The stork story isn't true after all. Do I have a new baby yet?" She paused, then said, "Oh. Okay. Do you promise you'll call later? . . . Okay. 'Bye." Jenny sounded disappointed.

  "Don't worry," said Jessi, confused because she thought Jenny didn't want the baby. "You'll have a new brother or sister by tonight. Or maybe tomorrow." "Darn old baby," muttered Jenny, kicking at a chest of drawers. "I didn't know Mommy and Daddy would have to go away to get the baby. It'll never be just me and Mommy and Daddy again. The baby's got them all to itself right now. And I'll never have them to myself again." Oh, thought Jessi. So that was why Jenny wanted the baby to come home soon. She didn't want it to have too much time alone with her parents. And she probably thought that if she took care of the baby as "hers," then Mr. and Mrs. P. would have more time to spend with Jenny. It was very complicated.

  Jessi managed to entertain Jenny for the rest of the morning. She made a few phone calls to let some of the other BSC members know what was going on. She gave Jenny lunch.

  Jenny was just finishing her peanut butter sandwich when the phone rang again. Jenny made a leap for it. "I hope it's my daddy!" she cried.

  It was, but he didn't have any news. No baby yet.

  Jenny was becoming edgy. And cranky.

  "How about a nap?" asked Jessi tiredly.

  "NO!" "Okay, okay." At 4:15, the phone rang again. "You get it this time," said Jenny, who was slumped in a chair, the picture of depression.

  So Jessi did. And it was Mr. P. "The baby's here!" he said excitedly. "It's a girl, she weighs seven and a half pounds, and she's twenty-one inches long. Her name is Andrea." "Congratulations!" shouted Jessi. "Wait, let me put Jenny on the phone." Jenny listened to her father with absolutely no expression on her face. Then she said good- bye and slumped back into her chair.

  Jessi barely noticed. She called her family and every single club member, including Logan and Shannon, to spread the news. When she finally got off the phone, she said excitedly to Jenny, "So what do you think? You have a baby sister." Jenny narrowed her eyes. "I wanted a brother," she said, and marched up to her room.

  Jessi watched her helplessly.

  Chapter 14.

  Mrs. Prezzioso and Andrea stayed in the hospital for three days. On Tuesday afternoon, Mr. P. was allowed to bring them home. The day before, he had called during the BSC meeting to line up a sitter for Jenny for the afternoon. I had gotten the job.

  When I rang the Prezziosos' bell on Tuesday, I was greeted by Mrs. Frank, who had been staying with Jenny since the night before. I had a feeling that Jenny's life since Saturday had consisted of a string of baby-sitters. I also had a feeling that Jenny was not going to be in a good mood. I was right about both things.

  I said good-bye to Mrs. Frank and let her out the front door. Then I walked into the living room, where Jenny and Mrs. Frank had obviously been reading books.

  "Hey, Jen," I greeted her. "Andrea comes home today!" I sounded as perky and as excited as I was able.

  "So?" countered Jenny.

  "Well, today is sort of important. You're a big sister and your baby sister is coming home." Jenny didn't answer me.

  "Your dad's going to drive everyone home in an hour or so." "Yup." Jenny finally looked up from her copy of The Little Engine That Could. "And I will never have Mommy and Daddy all to myself again." "Oh, Jen." I sat on the floor beside her. "That's not true. Mommies and daddies have time for more than one child. Think about Mal's family." "I know." (Jenny heaved a sigh that
was probably heard in China.) "But it won't be the same." "No. You're right. It won't be the same. I bet your mom and dad will make special time just for you, though." "Maybe." "You know what?" I said. "My mom died when I was little, so I grew up without brothers or sisters. It was just my dad and me. And sometimes I was really lonely. I wished and wished for a brother or sister. Especially a baby brother or sister. I wanted to have someone to take care of." "You did?" "Yup. Anyway, then my dad married Dawn's mom, so now Dawn is my sister. She's not a baby sister to take care of, and every now and then we fight, but mostly we're glad to have each other. Sometimes at night when we're supposed to be in bed, one of us will sneak into the other's room and we'll stay up late, talking and talking in the dark." "That sounds like fun," said Jenny . . . uncertainly.

  "What's the matter?" I asked her.

  "Babies seem like a lot of work. And Mommy wants me to be a big girl now. She wants me to do grown-up, big-girl things." "But you'll still be your mommy's little girl. Nothing will change that." "Yes it will!" Jenny shouted suddenly, startling me. "Andrea will change everything. I'll have to give her bottles the way I practiced on that dam old doll, and I'll have to - " "Whoa, Jenny. Calm down," I told her. "You won't know how things will be with Andrea until you actually see her." Jenny got up and stomped around the living room. "Okay, kiddo," I said. "Outdoors." "Why?" "Because you have a lot of energy to get rid of, and I'm going to teach you a new game. It's really fun and funny." "What is it?" asked Jenny suspiciously.

  "It's called Flamingo Fight." Jenny giggled. "Okay," she said.

  So we put on our jackets and mittens and went outside. Luckily the snow that had fallen had long since melted, and the grass was dry. (You need a soft, dry outdoor place that's not too near the street to play Flamingo Fight, because you fall down a lot.) "Oh, wait," I said to Jenny as soon as we were outdoors. "I've got to get us blindfolds. You sit right here on the front steps and don't move. I'll be back in just a second." I dashed inside, grabbed two woolen scarves from the Prezziosos' closet, and dashed back out. Jenny was sitting where I'd left her.

  "Okay. First thing," I began. "Do you know what a flamingo is?" Smiling, Jenny got up. Then she tried to balance on one leg.

  "That's right!" I said. "A flamingo is a bird that stands on only one of its legs. It tucks the other one up under its body. You can pretend to be a flamingo by bending your leg up behind you and holding your foot with your hand. Then you can hop around on your other leg." "Okay," said Jenny, trying it. "But what about the fight?" "Well, what you do in a flamingo fight is try to make the other person fall down. If you can do that, you win. But there are some rules. You have to tie a scarf around your face so that you can't see. Then, we call out to each other so that I know where you are, and you know where I am. We try to bump into each other. If I make you fall down, I'm the winner. If you make me fall down, you're the winner. One important thing, though. We can't use our hands. We just hop and bump around in the darkness." Jenny was laughing by then. "Let's play!" she cried.

  So I tied a scarf around Jenny's eyes (I was careful not to cover her nose) and made sure she couldn't see. Then I tied a scarf around my eyes. "Jen?" I said.

  "Yeah. I'm here." "Are you holding one foot up?" "Yup." "Okay. Then get ready to ... flamingo fight!" I hopped in the direction in which I'd heard Jenny say, "Yup." But I didn't run into anything. "Jen?" I called. I heard giggling from the opposite direction, turned around, and hopped toward the sound. Suddenly I bumped into Jenny. "Flamingo fight!" I cried.

  Laughing, Jenny and I kept bumping into each other, until finally I lost my balance and fell down.

  "You win!" I said. "The score is one to nothing, in favor of you." "Yea!" shouted Jenny.

  Twenty minutes later, the game was tied five to five, and Jenny and I were desperately trying to knock each other over, when we heard the honking of a car.

  "I think that's Mommy and Daddy . . . and Andrea!" exclaimed Jenny. In her excitement, she rushed toward the driveway, ran into me, and knocked me to the ground.

  "Hey, you win!" I told Jenny, slipping the scarf from over my eyes.

  Then, "Jen, wait!" I called, realizing that Jenny was tearing toward the driveway blindfolded. I caught up with her and removed her scarf. The two of us stood at the edge of the driveway and watched Mr. P. park the car.

  He pulled gently to a stop by the front walk, got out of the car, and hurried around to Mrs. P's door. Then he took the baby from her, and Mrs. P. climbed slowly out of the car herself. She knelt down and held her arms open wide. "Jenny!" she said. "I missed you." Jenny flew toward her mother, and I thought, Oh, what a nice reunion.

  But at the last moment, Jenny veered to the side, stood on tiptoe in front of her father, and said, "Let me see Andrea." I couldn't tell whether Mrs. P. looked hurt or relieved or proud or all three things at once. At any rate, she and I both watched as Mr. P. bent down, cradling the baby, and Jenny got her first look at her sister.

  Andrea was wrapped up in blankets. Only her face and her tiny hands showed. She was wide awake and she looked as if she were staring solemnly at her sister, who stared back at her.

  For a few moments, Jenny and Andrea continued to stare at each other. Then Andrea's hands moved slightly and Jenny held out a tentative finger. She touched one hand. She leaned over for a closer look.

  "She has fingernails!" said Jenny softly. "She has real fingernails, but they're so little," She paused and said, "Ooh, Andrea is much better than my doll. Can I hold her, Daddy?" "When we're inside," replied Mr. P. "And before we go in, why don't you give your mom a big hug? She missed you." "I missed you, too, Mommy," said Jenny, as everyone stood up. "I'm glad you came back." She hugged Mrs. P. around the legs.

  Jenny took her mother's hand and they followed Mr. P. and Andrea inside. I followed Jenny and her mother.

  The first thing Jenny said when we were indoors was, "Can I hold the baby now?" "Let's take off our coats first," replied her mother.

  So we did. A few minutes later, Jenny was sitting in an armchair, her feet sticking out in front of her, and Mr. P. and I were watching as Jenny's mother placed Andrea in her sister's waiting arms.

  I hope that the Prezziosos saw what I saw then: As Jenny looked down at her new sister, and gently stroked a hand, an arm, a cheek, her entire face changed.

  I could tell it was love at first sight.

  Jenny loved Andrea, her new sister.

  Oh, sure, there would be tough times ahead for them. They would quarrel, fight, slam doors, not speak to each other, go on car trips and divide the backseat in half so that neither sister touched the other's belongings. Just like Dawn and me. We fight sometimes. But mostly we're good friends. We stick up for each other and we have fun together. ' I could tell that, that was the way things would be for Jenny and Andrea, too.

  Jenny bent over. She and Andrea were nose to nose. "Hello, Andrea," said Jenny. "I'm your big sister. I know you can't do many things yet, so I will help you. Maybe when you're three or four I'll teach you how to play Flamingo Fight. I'll be seven or eight by then. I'll be going to school and you won't, so I'll tell you all about school." Jenny stopped talking. She stroked the black downy hair on Andrea's head. "Don't worry, Mommy," said Jenny, looking up. "I remember about the soft spot. I won't hurt the baby." By that time, the Prezziosos were filming this scene on their camcorder. But Mrs. P. stopped watching her daughters long enough to pay me. Then I went home.

  Chapter 15.

  Wow.

  Did I ever do some heavy thinking as I walked from Jenny's house to mine.

  I was thinking about relationships. I thought about Dawn and me, and what good friends we are. Even when we fight, we learn something from our fights. We learn how to listen to each other and respect each other.

  I was thinking about Jenny and Andrea. In my wildest dreams I had never imagined that Andrea's homecoming would have worked out the way it had. Not with the conversations the BSC members had been having with Jenny. Not with Jenny throwing her doll aro
und her room. Not with Jenny's fears about no longer being her parents' "one and only." I suppose that sometimes some family members never get along, but I don't think that happens often. Usually when people are mad, some sort of love is underlying the feelings that show, the feelings on the outside. When people love each other - whether they're brothers and sisters, parents and children, best friends, husbands and wives, or girlfriends and boyfriends - that love leads to an understanding. That's why I can (usually) ignore my father when he gets into one of his orderliness frenzies. It's why my stepmother doesn't force me to eat the foods (such as tofu) that she and Dawn adore. And it's why Dawn and I can fight and make up.

  Then I thought about Logan and me. What did this say about us? I had tried to be understanding of Logan, but was he understanding of me? He used to be, that's for sure. I remembered my thirteenth birthday. There had been a surprise party. Since I'm shy, you can imagine how I felt about being surprised with a cake and gifts. I hated being the center of attention. Being the center of attention is right up there with performing and public speaking. I'm terrified of those things. And when I ran out on my own party that evening, Logan understood. He gave me a chance to get myself together. Then we talked about things, and Logan never made me the center of attention again, if he could possibly help it. He didn't mind when I'd agree to go to a school dance - and then not dance. He let me make up my mind about going to Halloween parties in costumes or in regular clothes. . . . He used to be that way.

  Now he wasn't.

  I felt that he didn't listen to me anymore. He thought only about what he wanted, while I tried to understand him and what he wanted, and to make allowances for him. Not that he would have forced me to dance at a school hop - or would he have? I wasn't sure. What I was sure about, though, was that he expected me to be available for him at all times. He seemed to have forgotten that I had a family and another life, and that they did not include Logan.