“He’s really hidden?” Nina looked up at Dawn and blinked her eyes.
“Come with me and I’ll show you.” Dawn led Nina to the kitchen, where she scooped Eleanor out of her high chair. Then the three of them stood in front of the full-length mirror in the hall. Dawn pointed to Nina’s shirt pocket. “See, we know he’s hiding in there but no one else will.”
Nina giggled and lifted her foot. “I know Blankie’s in my shoe, too, but it’s my secret.”
“That’s right.” Dawn knelt beside Nina and hugged her close. “He’ll always be with you,” she whispered, “and no one will know.”
It was Friday — forty-eight hours until D-Day (Dying-of-Embarrassment Day). School had been a blur all week. I could think about nothing but the horse show. I was late for classes and missed answers on tests that I should have known. I even forgot about the BSC meeting. Luckily, at five-fifteen my mother stuck her head in my room to remind me. I hopped on my bike and pedaled as fast as I could to Claudia’s.
When I arrived, Dawn was telling everyone about the Blankie disaster. I caught most of it — how the blanket had disintegrated in the dryer, and how Dawn had saved the day by stuffing little bits of it into Nina’s pockets. Dawn was such a good storyteller that even when Claud’s digital clock read 5:30, Kristy didn’t interrupt to call the meeting to order. Dawn finished her story and we just stared at her, shaking our heads in amazement.
“Boy, Dawn,” Claud said, dropping a handful of potato chips into her mouth. “You really were thinking fast.”
“I had to,” Dawn said. “Nina was about to have a major tantrum. I’m not kidding. She screamed so loudly that when I was leaving later that afternoon, one of the neighbors asked me if there had been an accident at the Marshall house.”
“That must have been embarrassing,” Jessi said.
“It was. But —” Dawn held up her crossed fingers and grinned. “Hopefully it will be worth it.”
“If you ask me,” Stacey said, “I think Nina will have a much easier time at school from now on.”
“We’ll all have a much easier time,” Mary Anne agreed. “I hate to admit it, but the last time I sat for Eleanor and Nina and Blankie, it wasn’t much fun.”
Kristy cleared her throat and adjusted her visor. “Then I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate Dawn on a job well done. And to say that this meeting of the BSC is officially called to order.”
As if in response to Kristy’s words, the phone rang. Claud picked up the receiver and said, “Hello, Baby-sitters Club. There’s no problem we can’t solve.”
Stacey snorted with laughter. “She makes us sound like a bunch of detectives.”
“Well, in a way we are,” Kristy said as Claud scribbled down the caller’s information on a pad. “A detective has to be quick on her feet, ready to handle any new situation that comes along, and able to deal with it in a levelheaded way. That’s what we do.”
Mary Anne cocked her head. “You know, Kristy’s right. Dawn solved the Nina-and-Blankie problem. And remember when Mallory figured out what was bothering the Arnold twins?”
I smiled, remembering how I’d discovered that the twins hated being treated like little identical dolls. Once I found that out, they were easy to deal with. I turned to Jessi and said, “What about when Jessi learned sign language so she could talk to Matt Braddock, and then all of the kids in the neighborhood wanted to know Matt’s secret language?”
Jessi answered by signing, “Thanks for remembering that.”
“Hey!” Claudia dipped her hand into the potato chips again. “Let me know when you’re finished congratulating yourselves, so Mary Anne can assign this job.”
Everyone laughed and then we got down to business. Friday was busy and the phone rang nonstop. All of the activity almost made me forget about the horse show on Sunday. Almost. Unfortunately, giant butterflies were still flip-flopping around my stomach.
Mary Anne took a job with the Prezziosos, Kristy agreed to three afternoons with the Barretts, and I accepted a job with the Rodowskys. Then Mrs. Marshall called.
Dawn had picked up the phone, and when we heard her say “Oh, hi, Mrs. Marshall,” we fell silent. The Blankie idea had worked great on Thursday, but Dawn hadn’t heard whether things were still okay. After Mrs. Marshall gave Dawn the details for the next job, Dawn asked, “So how was Nina’s day at school?”
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Marshall replied so loudly that we could all hear her. “She came home grinning from ear to ear. And she didn’t seem to mind at all that she could only take a piece of Blankie to school.”
“That’s great,” Dawn replied. “Tell her I said hello.”
Dawn hung up and gave us the good news. Then Claudia changed the subject. “So Mallory, how’s the Stars of Tomorrow talent show coming?”
I had been preoccupied with my horse show but I had noticed that the kids seemed pretty organized. “It looks like they’re almost ready,” I reported. “The triplets helped build a platform in the backyard to use as a stage, and the neighborhood kids have been practicing day and night.”
“I bet your mom can hardly wait till the show is over,” Mary Anne said with a giggle.
I chuckled. “She’s marking the days off on the calendar. Only eight to go.”
“So it’s really going to happen?” Jessi asked in amazement.
I nodded. “I have to admit that I was skeptical at first, but the kids have organized the show awfully well.”
“What about you, Mal?” Stacey asked. “Are you ready for your show?”
Her words sent a ripple of fear through me. My shoulders slumped and I stared at the carpet. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Kristy leaned forward in her director’s chair and gave me a funny look. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it.”
I hadn’t planned to tell my friends just how badly the lessons had been going. I guess I was afraid they would think I was being silly, but suddenly all of these feelings welled up inside me. One second I was looking at the rug on the floor of Claudia’s room and the next minute my vision got all blurry. Two tears dropped onto the rug.
Jessi put her hand on my arm. “Mal, what’s the matter?”
It was as if a dam had burst inside me and everything I was worried about came pouring out. I told my friends everything — about my lessons, how much they’d meant to me, and how snobby my classmates had been. Then I told them about the fall.
“Now I’m afraid to get on a horse,” I confessed. “Any horse. Even Pax scares me.”
“That’s all right, Mal,” Jessi said softly. “A lot of people are afraid of horses.”
“But not me.” I bit my lip to stop crying. “I couldn’t be. I love them. I mean, it’s always been my dream to be a writer and live on a ranch with horses.”
“You had a bad fall,” Kristy said. “It takes time to get over something like that. Once I was hit in the face by a baseball when I was at bat and it took me nearly a year to stop flinching every time the pitcher threw the ball.”
“You think I’ll get over it?” I asked, wiping the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“Of course,” Jessi said warmly. “But maybe not right away.”
I held my head in my hands. “This is such a mess. I begged my parents to help me pay for lessons. They did, even though I know they really couldn’t afford to. And then I had that fall and I spent the next eight lessons clinging to the horse, petrified that I’d fall off again. It was a total waste. I hardly learned anything.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Mary Anne said. “I’ll bet you’ve learned a lot and you just don’t know it.”
Claudia finished the last potato chip and crumpled up the bag. “Frankly, I’m impressed that you’re going to be riding a horse with one of those saddles without a handle.”
“Handle?” I giggled. “You mean, the saddle horn?”
“That’s right.” Claudia shook her head. “I don’t know how you stay on.”
“It’s really just a matter of balance and holding on with your knees,” I explained with a shrug.
Stacey squeezed my arm. “See? You do know more than you think.”
Soon it was six o’clock and time for the meeting to end. Every single member of the BSC wished me luck on Sunday and reminded me that they’d be there to cheer me on. It sure is nice having friends support you.
Jessi suggested we walk our bikes partway home, so we could keep on talking. I was glad she suggested it, because I’d missed her.
“Mal, I had no idea you were so miserable,” Jessi said as we neared the corner where we usually split up to go to our own houses.
“I tried to tell you a few times, but you didn’t seem to want to hear about it.”
It was Jessi’s turn to stare at the ground. “I’m sorry, Mal. I guess I was so jealous of your riding lessons that I could hardly stand to hear about them. Especially when you called and said you’d found your dream horse.”
“But he really is a wonderful horse.”
“I’m sure he is,” Jessi said. “It’s just that I thought you were bragging.”
I gasped. “I just wanted to share my good news with you.”
“You told me you had all these new friends who were rich and owned their own horses,” Jessi reminded me. “You told me they invited you to fancy parties with giant video screens and swimming pools.”
“Did I really make it sound like that?”
Jessi nodded. “And I felt left out.”
“I’m really sorry, Jessi. If you want to know the truth, those new friends barely speak to me. I’m not even sure if they know my name, and we’ve been together for eight weeks. I don’t have the right clothes, I’m the only one who fell off my horse, and I’m the worst rider in the class. The only good thing about the entire two months has been Pax.”
Jessi smiled. “He does sound like a wonderful horse.”
“Oh, he is!” I cried. “I really want you to meet him.”
“I will,” Jessi said. “Sunday at the horse show.”
“Oh, that.” I leaned on my bike’s handlebars. “I really wish I didn’t have to go.”
“You’ll do just fine,” Jessi said. “It’ll probably only take fifteen minutes, and then all your problems will be solved.”
“Not quite,” I said. “They’re starting another class next week.”
Jessi shrugged. “Just don’t sign up.”
“But how do I explain that to my parents?”
“Tell them the truth. You had a terrible time.”
“Oh, Jessi, I could never do that! Mom and Dad couldn’t afford to let me take those lessons in the first place, but I begged and pleaded until they gave in. If I tell them I hated the class, they’ll feel terrible and I’ll look like a jerk.”
“Hmmm,” Jessi murmured, biting her lip. “That’s a tough one. Maybe we should go to my house and talk about it for awhile.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I have to get home for dinner.”
“Have dinner with us,” Jessi offered.
That was the best thing she could have said. We rode our bikes to her house, and it was just like old times again between us. We had a lot of catching up to do. Eight whole weeks’ worth. Jessi and I talked nonstop through dinner. In fact, we had so much to say to each other that I wound up spending the night at her house.
We didn’t solve the problem of what to say to my parents about future riding lessons, but right then it didn’t matter. Jessi was my best friend again and I felt great.
The day of the horse show arrived and I was a wreck. From the moment I got out of bed things went wrong. I slept late, I couldn’t find my socks, and my hair was out of control. It was humid outside, and my hair looked like a frizzball, even when I tried to smooth it into a ponytail.
The only good thing that happened that morning was that Lauren Kendall stopped by our house. She had borrowed a riding habit from a friend, and she thought it might fit me. The jacket and boots were a little big but I was thrilled anyway.
“There’s no sense being the only one in your class riding in jeans,” she said. “We’re here to put on a show. This will make you look like a real horsewoman.”
Yeah, I thought to myself glumly. Until I get on the horse.
Actually, I was grateful to Lauren. I had been so busy worrying about being afraid of horses that I hadn’t even thought how I would look in my Western riding clothes.
“Thanks, Lauren,” I said as I walked her to the door. “I really appreciate it.”
She smiled at me and said, “Be confident today, Mallory. You’ve got potential.”
Her words should have made me feel better, but my nerves had taken over. Mom tried to convince me to eat some breakfast, but my stomach was doing cartwheels and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. All I wanted to do was get out to Kendallwood Farm so I could see Pax and try to relax.
Claire and Margo helped me get dressed — if you could call it help. Claire tried on all the riding gear. She especially liked the boots, which came halfway up her thigh. Margo paraded around in my hunt cap and coat and then tussled with Claire over the riding crop. Finally I managed to wrench the clothing away from my sisters and put it on. I grabbed my mother’s hairspray and made a last-ditch effort to de-frizz my hair. It didn’t help.
Luckily the phone rang and Adam shouted from the kitchen, “Mal! It’s for you!”
“Hi, Mal, it’s me,” Jessi said when I picked up the phone. “I just wanted to call to wish you luck. In ballet we say break a leg. What do they say in horseback riding?”
“Just the thought of breaking any body parts makes me nervous,” I said, laughing. “So ‘good luck’ would be fine.”
“How are you feeling?” Jessi asked.
“Like someone turned on a blender in my stomach.”
“That’s how I feel before every ballet performance,” Jessi said. “But then I make sure I’m very limber and that all my muscles are warmed up. You should do the same.”
“You mean, I should do pliés?” I asked.
“Yes.” Jessi’s voice rang with authority. Warming up is one thing she knows everything about. “Do some side stretches,” she instructed, “then raise your hands over your head and touch the ground. Then do some slow knee bends.”
“I think I can handle that,” I said, making a mental list of what she told me to do.
“Then, just before you ride into the ring, take a deep breath and slowly let it out.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” I said. “My teacher, Lauren, is always yelling at us to breathe.”
“Well, she’s right,” Jessi said. “You can’t stay loose if you’re holding your breath.”
Jessi wished me luck a few more times, then Becca had to get on the phone and do the same thing. Finally we hung up, but not before Jessi told me, “Mal, you’re my best friend. I’m really proud of you.”
Tears stung my eyes (I was turning into a mush, just like Mary Anne) and I mumbled, “Thanks, Jessi. That means a lot to me.”
Mom drove me to Kendallwood Farm at eleven o’clock and then went back to the house to get the rest of the family ready. The field in front of the stables was already jammed with cars and horse trailers when my mom dropped me off. I looked at the steady stream of people filing into the bleachers that had been set up around the riding ring and I gulped.
“Now, your dad and I will be back with your brothers and sisters by twelve-thirty,” my mother said.
I nodded, barely hearing her. Just the sight of so many cars had started my pulse pounding. I stumbled toward the stable without even waving good-bye.
“Mallory!”
I turned to see what my mother wanted.
“You forgot something.” She held up the velvet hunt cap Lauren had brought over that morning.
I shook my head, trying to focus. If I was going to be this ding-y two hours before the show, I could just imagine what I’d be like on horseback in front of
a hundred people. A total disaster.
Mom must have noticed the panicked look on my face because she said quietly, “Relax, Mallory. You have plenty of time to get ready. Remember, we’re all rooting for you.”
I tried to smile confidently but what came out was kind of a sick grimace. After my mom drove away, I hurried as fast as I could through the crowd toward the stable. I heaved a sigh of relief as I slipped inside the dark shadows of Pax’s stall and felt his warm, comforting nose nuzzle my neck.
“I am so glad to see you,” I whispered, scratching his head behind his ears. “Now it’s time to make you pretty.”
I tried to braid Pax’s mane but he wouldn’t hold still to let me work on him. He kept pawing the ground and impatiently nudging the pocket of my jacket. Then I realized what he wanted. His carrot.
“Okay, you win, you big baby,” I said, giggling. “Today, because it’s an important show, I’ve brought you a special treat.” I pulled two carrots and an apple out of my tote bag. He pressed his muzzle toward them greedily, but I pulled them out of his reach. “Now, don’t just inhale them,” I said sternly. “I want you to chew.”
And he did, dripping apple juice down his chin. At least it kept him occupied while I braided his mane. Lauren had showed us how to plait the long, thick strands of horsehair, then roll them up and tie them with little satin bows. Soon a neat row of ribbons was lining Pax’s neck. Then I currycombed his coat until it glistened.
Pax’s tail was harder to untangle than his mane, and also more time consuming, because you aren’t supposed to use a comb or brush, just your fingers. I had to separate the strands of hair one by one. But concentrating on the task took my mind off what lay ahead of me — the dreaded horse show.
Finally I saddled and bridled Pax and then stepped back to look at my handiwork. Pax arched his neck and stood proudly, as if he were posing for a picture.
“You already were the most beautiful horse in the stable,” I murmured softly. “Now you’re the most beautiful in the world.”
Mallory and the Dream Horse Page 8
