Jessi and the Troublemaker

by Ann M. Martin

  A small silence fell over the room. Then Becca said, in a soft voice, “I’m not. I mean, I’m not not ever going to speak to Danielle again.”

  “Don’t tell me about it,” said Stacey folding her arms. “I know how important my friends are. And how I count on them. And how I need them. I also know that part of friendship is forgiving people — and accepting things about them that you can’t change.”

  I was impressed. The atmosphere in the room had been outright hostile when we’d started talking. But Stacey had given the girls something to talk about. And I could see that they were starting to make eye contact again.

  Haley smiled. “You’re my buddy, Danielle,” she said. “Even if you are a kangaroo!”

  “A kangaroo!” said Danielle.

  “Ideas just hop out of your head.” Haley shrugged. “I guess it’s hard not to just hop along with them.”

  Smiles began to show on the girls’ faces. Then Danielle said quietly, “I am sorry. I’m truly sorry. I’ll never, ever do something like that again.”

  “Never is a long time,” said Stacey. “How about if you just try to think through what you’re doing?”

  “Yeah,” said Haley. “Look before you leap.”

  “Like a kangaroo, that’s what you do,” said Vanessa. She was speaking in rhyme, which she does when she’s feeling good. Things were going to be all right.

  “Hey, what about my snack?” Greg was standing in the door.

  “I could use some hot chocolate,” said Mal. “What about you guys?”

  “Cool,” said Becca.

  “No, silly, hot!” said Vanessa. Everyone burst into giggles and we all went into the kitchen.

  The fight was over.

  I looked at Mal and raised my own cup of hot chocolate. I knew we were thinking the same thing.

  Not only was the fight over, but in my eyes, Stacey was back. Her recent flaky behavior had been annoying. But like Stacey said, friends have to forgive — and accept — if they want to stay friends.

  “Hey, Stace,” I said.

  Stacey looked at Mal and me.

  “Good work,” I said softly.

  So the fight was over.

  Which left me with just one little problem.

  The wedding that wasn’t. I just hadn’t been able to admit that Aunt Cecelia hadn’t gotten married. Danielle’s short driving career had kept everyone’s attention for a while, but now I had to duck all kinds of questions.

  Sooner or later I was going to have to admit that I’d made a big mistake. A major goof. And I was going to feel like a world-class dope when I did.

  No way out of it. Unless …

  The idea came to me at precisely 5:42 A.M. while I was practicing at the barre in our basement. I stopped in mid-plié and stared at my reflection in the mirror, my mouth open.

  Unless there was a wedding. If Becca and I could convince Aunt Cecelia and Mr. Major to fall in love and get married after all, I might not ever have to confess my foolish mistake.

  And what could be easier? I mean, Mr. Major was super-nice. (I’d seen him one time since the wedding and he hadn’t even mentioned Becca’s and my monumental goof. Instead, he’d congratulated me on “keeping a cool head in an emergency.”) And he was handsome. And Aunt Cecelia already liked him or she wouldn’t be spending time with him. So why not just give their romance (by then I’d convinced myself that a romance was already in the works) a little push in the right direction?

  I could hardly wait to put my plan into action.

  “You think so?” asked Becca, when I told her. “You think they might really be in love and not know it?”

  “That’s it.” I nodded. “They just need our help. You know, the way Dawn’s mom and Mary Anne’s dad needed a little help in getting together.”

  “Wow,” said Becca. “What should we do?”

  “A romantic dinner, just for two,” I said. “Candlelight, flowers, soft music, you know. Like at a fancy restaurant, like Chez Maurice.”

  Becca looked unhappy. “But Jessi, we can’t afford to pay for dinner for Aunt Cecelia and Mr. Major at Chez Maurice. Can we?”

  “No, of course not. But we can plan a special dinner for them right here. One that is just as good. And just as romantic.”

  “Will Mama and Daddy let us do that?” asked Becca.

  “We’ll do it when they’re going to be out for the evening. You know Aunt Cecelia usually stays around when they go out, even though I’m old enough to be left alone with you and Squirt.”

  So we put plan Get Aunt Cecelia Married into action. I called Mr. Major up and invited him over for the very next evening that Mama and Daddy were going out. “We were wondering if you could come by,” I said.

  “Is there a problem?” asked Mr. Major. He sounded puzzled.

  “Uh, it’s no big deal. I mean, I can explain it better when you get here,” I hurried on.

  “Well, okay, sure,” he said.

  “Great! We’ll look forward to seeing you. Aunt Cecelia, too,” I added.

  I heard Mr. Major laughing as I hung up the phone. What had I said that was so funny? I wondered. But I didn’t have much time to think about it. We had a romantic evening to plan.

  Over the next couple of days, Becca and I got candles, and the ingredients for a romantic dinner. Well, anyway, for spaghetti. Becca thought it was romantic because it was the same meal that the two dogs shared in Lady and the Tramp. I wasn’t sure garlic was the most romantic ingredient in a meal, but if they both ate some then it wouldn’t be a problem, right?

  The night Mr. Major was supposed to come, I was terrified that Mama or Daddy (or both of them) would come home from work instead of going straight out for an early dinner before the performance of the Stoneybrook Chamber Music Ensemble. But they didn’t.

  Becca and I had planned everything very carefully. And we’d coordinated our watches. Exactly fifty minutes before Mr. Major was scheduled to arrive, Becca got things started.

  “Aunt Cecelia! Aunt Cecelia!” she called from her room.

  “What is it, Becca?”

  “Could you come here and help me with my math? I’ve got a test tomorrow. It’s really important.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Go ahead,” I said to my aunt. “I’ll start dinner and put Squirt to bed.”

  “Well … what about your homework?”

  “All done. Go ahead.”

  “Okay.” Aunt Cecelia untied her apron and left the kitchen.

  Quickly I set aside the leftover meatloaf she’d just taken out to reheat and started the spaghetti. Then I set the dining room table and put the flowers Becca and I had bought that afternoon in the center of the table in our best vase. Last of all, I turned the overhead light down low and lit the candles.

  The doorbell rang. I surveyed the dining room. Perfect. It couldn’t be more romantic, not even at Chez Maurice.

  Aunt Cecelia and Mr. Major just had to fall in love.

  “I’ll get it,” I called.

  A moment later I ushered Mr. Major into the dining room — just as Becca led Aunt Cecelia in.

  The two of them stopped. Becca and I watched them closely. Were they exchanging a meaningful glance? Realizing that it was always meant to be? Casting caution and reserve to the winds?

  No, they were not.

  They were smiling. And then they were laughing.

  Becca put her hands on her hips. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I mean, well, it’s a lovely dinner, girls,” said Aunt Cecelia. “But I’m afraid that Mr. Major and I have something to tell you. We really don’t want to get married. We’re friends. Good friends.”

  “Have been for a long time,” said Mr. Major. “We met on a blind date, as a matter of fact. Remember that, Cece?”

  Aunt Cecelia laughed. “Do I ever. The worst blind date I was ever on!”

  “Me, too,” said Mr. Major. “But I made one of the best friends I’ve had.”

  “Are you sure?” I couldn’t help
but ask.

  “Positive,” said Aunt Cecelia. “But thanks for all your work.”

  “And now I’d like to invite you to join us at this lovely dinner,” said Mr. Major.

  Becca and I looked at each other. What could we do? A wedding between Aunt Cecelia and Mr. Major just wasn’t going to happen.

  I sighed. Then Becca and I got extra plates and silverware.

  And you know what? It was pretty good spaghetti in spite of everything.

  The meeting of the Baby-sitters Club had just come to order. We were all there, including Logan, and we were all on time.

  And we were all laughing.

  “So you ate a romantic spaghetti dinner — just the four of you! I can’t believe it!” cried Claudia.

  “What’s wrong with spaghetti?” asked Logan.

  “It’s great,” said Stacey. “It’s just sort of messy for a romantic dinner.”

  “I think it was a great idea,” said Mary Anne. “It could have worked.”

  You guessed it. I had just told them about the wedding that wasn’t. “I hope you guys didn’t buy a present yet,” I said.

  Stacey said, “Well, we’d budgeted for one. I guess we’d better spend it on something important. Like a pizza party.”

  “Good idea,” said Kristy. “In fact, that’s an excellent idea.”

  “And don’t think we’re going to let you live this down,” said Mallory. “You haven’t heard the last of it, Jessi Ramsey!”

  “I can take it,” I said. “Just wait. Your turn will come.”

  Mary Anne said, “Well, I think Aunt Cecelia’s getting married would be terrific. And it might happen. Never say never.”

  “Never will,” I agreed. I shot a sly look at Stacey. “Just like Stacey taught Vanessa and Charlotte and Haley and Becca.”

  “Here’s to Stacey!” said Claudia, raising a coconut cream puff in salute.

  Stacey looked pleased. “I’m glad I could help,” she said. “It would have been terrible for those kids to stop being friends over one of Danielle’s crazy ideas.”

  “And like you said, they went along with it, even though they knew that something like driving a car was a big-time bad idea,” I reminded her.

  “Not to mention sledding in the basement,” said Dawn.

  “And making the bathroom into a swimming pool,” said Kristy. She snorted. “But you know, it wasn’t such a bad idea, in and of itself. I mean, it kind of made sense, if you thought about it….”

  We all started laughing at that.

  “Maybe Danielle will grow up to be like you, Kristy,” Mary Anne teased gently. “An idea person.”

  “And president of a fine organization like the BSC,” said Logan.

  It was good to be there with my friends. I hoped Danielle and her friends truly were all friends again.

  The sound of the doorbell interrupted our thoughts.

  “Hey, did we order pizza already?” asked Claudia in mock surprise.

  “Not yet, Claud. But soon,” promised Stacey.

  Claudia jumped up and ran to answer the door.

  A few moments later we heard her call, “Hey, you guys, come here!”

  “In the middle of a meeting?” Kristy called back.

  “Yes!”

  “Is it an emergency?”

  “Kristy!” shrieked Claudia.

  “Okay, okay. This meeting of the BSC is adjourned four minutes early today,” said Kristy. “And this better be good.”

  We trooped to the front door. Claudia stepped back and flung it wide open.

  Five very strangely costumed creatures stood there: someone in a long doctor’s coat with a stethoscope and big weird glasses. Someone in a witch’s hat and costume. A police officer. A cat. And a ghost.

  “Trick or treat!” five voices shouted.

  “Trick or treat!” said Kristy. “What?”

  “We’re playing Halloween,” explained the doctor. It was, of course, Danielle.

  “It was Danielle’s idea,” said Becca. “Isn’t it a great one?”

  “It is,” said Claudia.

  “Truly,” Stacey said.

  “I wish I’d thought of it,” said Kristy.

  “So trick or treat,” said Danielle, holding out a paper bag.

  “Whoa. Wait here,” said Claudia. She ran upstairs, followed by Stacey.

  I looked at the grinning assortment of creatures on the steps and knew that Danielle and her friends were truly over their fight. And that whatever had happened hadn’t daunted Danielle’s imagination.

  Who knew what she was capable of? I looked forward to her future. And I knew I was lucky to be a part of her present.

  Then Claudia reappeared with Stacey. Their arms were heaped with junk food.

  “Treat!” said Claudia. “Here, everybody, help us out.”

  So the members of the BSC helped out. We took boxes of Oreos and packages of Gummi Worms and Hershey Hugs and Hersheys Kisses and all kinds of candy and junk food that Claudia had stashed around her room, and we gave them to the trick-or-treaters.

  “Happy Un-Halloween!” we called as they turned to go.

  “And many more,” I said softly, watching Danielle lead the way.

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  Lots of stories in the Baby-sitters Club series have come about because readers have asked for them. That’s how Mary Anne and the Memory Garden; Stacey McGill, Super Sitter; and many others came about. But my editor and I got the most letters asking for another story about Danielle Roberts, the character who was introduced in Jessi’s Wish, #48. Many of the kids who wrote those letters wanted to know how Danielle was doing. So I decided to write a story about Danielle in remission. I had a lot of fun thinking up the mischief that Danielle and her friends get into. But the idea for Danielle taking the car came from something I had seen on the news about a little boy who tried to drive his family’s car across town. Danielle is a great character and I enjoy writing about her. Perhaps we will revisit Danielle in yet another book some day.

  Happy reading,

  * * *

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Nola Thacker

  for her help in

  preparing this manuscript.

  About the Author

  ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.

  There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.

  Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.

  Copyright © 1995 by Ann M. Martin

  Cover art by Hodges Soileau

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First edition, February 1995

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-76861-0

 

 

  ank you for reading books on Archive.