Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Letter from Ann M. Martin
Acknowledgment
About the Author
Scrapbook
Also Available
Copyright
“Dawn, honey?”
Mom’s voice was coming from upstairs. “Could you bring me a bottle of that squirty stuff?”
“Squirty stuff?” I repeated. “You mean, like catsup?”
“No. It’s not for eating. It’s for cleaning the bathroom. You spray it on things and the dirt is supposed to just disappear.”
“Oh!” I giggled. “That squirty stuff.” I moved to the bottom of the stairs and shouted up, “The Wipe Away tile cleaner is under the bathroom sink.”
“There it is!” Mom shouted. “Silly me. It was there all the time and I never even noticed it.”
I hate to say it, but my mom is basically a slob. She usually hates housecleaning, but this Saturday was different. She was actually happy to scrub the bathroom floor. You see, we were all getting ready for my brother Jeff’s visit.
I’m Dawn Schafer. I’m thirteen and I live in Connecticut with my mom. Jeff, who is ten, lives in California with my dad. You’ve probably guessed that my parents are divorced. When the split happened, Mom brought Jeff and me back to the town of Stoneybrook, where she grew up. It was rough on all of us. Lucky for me, I met Mary Anne Spier and we liked each other instantly. Then Mary Anne introduced me to the members of the Baby-sitters Club (I’ll tell you more about them later) and soon I had lots of friends. But Jeff was always getting in fights with this kid named Jerry Haney, and doing badly in school. He really hated being here. That’s why Mom decided he would be happier if he went back to California and lived with Dad. Jeff is much happier now, but I miss him. And my old home. You see, I’m a California girl at heart.
In case you’re wondering, I have long hair (almost to my waist), that’s pale blonde, and blue eyes that some people say are the color of the ocean. I like sunshine and healthy food like carrot sticks and granola. I wear clothes that are comfortable. And I am very independent.
Back to Mary Anne. She’s my best friend. And guess what? Now she’s also my stepsister! Her dad (Richard) married my mom (Sharon). This is how it happened. Mary Anne and I discovered that our parents had dated in high school. We found all this romantic stuff they’d written to each other in their senior yearbooks. So we decided to try to get them back together. You see, Mr. Spier’s wife died when Mary Anne was little. After that he became this stern lonely guy who was really strict with Mary Anne. (He used to make her wear little kid dresses and fix her hair in pigtails.) Mom’s divorce was hard and she was lonely, too. Anyway, it was the perfect time for them to meet. They started dating and fell in love all over again. Isn’t that cool? And then they decided to get married and now Mom is Mrs. Spier.
We all live in this creaky old farmhouse that’s nearly two hundred years old. It was built in 1795 and it even has a secret passage that might be haunted. The passage leads from the barn to my room. I found out that during the Civil War it was used as a hiding place for the Underground Railroad. Isn’t that neat?
I really like my new family, but I have to say that there’s been a hole inside of me ever since Jeff went back to California. It was hard enough living without Dad but when my brother left, it took me a long time to get over it.
“Jeff’s coming in six days!” I announced as Mary Anne and I cleaned his room. “He’ll be here for one whole week. I can’t wait.”
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do with him?” Mary Anne asked.
“A zillion things,” I said, smoothing out the sheet on his twin bed. “Play Frisbee in the park, go bike riding, play some video games. Jeff loves video games. Oh, and I want to take him to that new toy store downtown.”
“That’s a lot to do in such a short time,” Mary Anne said as she dusted the desk. “It’s too bad we have to go to school while Jeff’s here.”
“You’re right,” I said with a sigh. “Oh, well. It’s only for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Then we have that four day weekend.”
“Dad wants us to take a family trip,” Mary Anne added. “To Washington D.C. or Boston.”
“Either one would be fun,” I said.
Just then, Richard stuck his head in the door. “How’s the cleaning coming?”
Mary Anne waved her dust rag. “It’s going great, Dad. We’ve vacuumed under the bed and in the closet. I’ve checked all the dresser drawers for dust and Dawn is just finishing making the bed.”
Richard raised one eyebrow and peered over his glasses at the room. I held my breath, waiting for him to spot some speck of dirt.
You see, Richard and my mom are practically exact opposites. She’s kind of messy and really absentminded. I’m always finding hedge clippers in the bread drawer or her high heels in the refrigerator or the TV remote control in the bathroom cabinet. Richard, on the other hand, is Mr. Organized. He arranges his books alphabetically and color codes his socks. He’s a clean fiend and likes dishes and counters to shine.
“Make sure those sheets have hospital corners,” Richard said, pointing to the bed. “We want everything shipshape for Jeff.”
“Hospital corners?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
Richard untucked the top sheet that I had just spent five minutes smoothing out. “Here, I’ll show you. It’s the most efficient way to make a bed. Hospitals developed this technique because they change sheets more often than any other institution.” I watched as he tucked a corner under the bed, making sure he had a straight crease on the remaining part, and then folded that under the mattress. The corner of the sheet looked like the back of an envelope.
“There!” He stepped back and surveyed his work proudly. “What do you think?”
I didn’t want to tell him that I thought my way had looked just as nice so I said, “It looks really neat and tidy.”
Richard smiled and nodded. “That’s good. Jeff will appreciate that, I’m sure.”
I was sure Jeff wouldn’t even notice. You see, Jeff is like Mom and me — pretty relaxed about things. Making the bed to him means throwing a bedspread over a wrinkled sheet and tossing the pillow on top. But I didn’t mention that.
Richard clapped his hands together. “I’m looking forward to this visit with Jeff. It’ll really give us a chance to get to know each other. Yes indeed. Yes indeed.”
Richard seemed a little nervous. I could tell because he kept repeating himself. But I also knew why. Mom wasn’t able to take time off from her job and Mary Anne and I were going to be in school for the first three days of the week so Richard was going to have to take time off from his job and look after Jeff all by himself. I had heard Mom and Richard discussing it one night in the kitchen after dinner. He’d said to Mom, “I’ve only raised daughters. What kinds of things do I do with a boy?”
“Oh, Richard, don’t be such a worry wart,” Mom answered. “Jeff will think of something. He has a very active imagination. Just let him lead you.”
Mom’s right about Jeff. He is the kind of kid who likes to do a hundred things — all at once. When I visited Dad and Jeff in California, the three of us went to Disneyland and Jeff raced from ride to ride, making sure we rode every single one.
“Jeff also
loves sports,” Mom had said. “Maybe you two can toss a baseball around.”
“Hmmm,” Richard mumbled. “Maybe.”
Mom seemed to have forgotten that Richard is totally unathletic. He doesn’t play any sports, and he doesn’t watch football or baseball games on TV. He’s just not interested in them.
Anyway, I was glad that Jeff and Richard were going to have the chance to get to know each other better. It’s important to me that my brother like Richard and that Richard like Jeff.
“Oh, girls,” Richard said as he left the room, “you’ve put a lot of work into making the house look nice. Let’s try to keep it that way until Jeff gets here.”
“That’s fine with me, Dad,” Mary Anne said as she put the cap back on the spray furniture polish. “I like a clean house.”
I know Mary Anne didn’t mean for her comment to sound like a dig at my mom, but it did. Just a little bit. Of course, I didn’t really mind. Putting two completely different families together in the same house has been hard. But we’re learning to live with each others’ quirks. And even to joke about them.
“We should take a picture of this room and the rest of the house,” I giggled. “So when things get messy again, we’ll remember what they were supposed to look like.”
Mary Anne opened her mouth to respond, but what we heard instead was “Meow!”
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t say anything,” Mary Anne replied. “It was Tigger.”
Tigger is Mary Anne’s gray striped kitten. He can usually be found sleeping on Mary Anne’s bed, but today was different. He had followed Mary Anne from room to room, meowing, as if to say, “What’s all the commotion about?”
“Meow!”
I spun in a circle looking for Tigger. “Where is he?”
Mary Anne peered under the bed. “I’m not sure. I can hear him, but I can’t see him. Here, Tiggy. Come on, Mousekin.” (Mary Anne has about a zillion names for Tigger.)
“Meow! Meow!”
“I think it’s coming from over there.” I pointed to the closet. “You don’t think …”
Before I could finish my sentence Mary Anne had opened the closet door and scooped Tigger up in her arms. “Not again!” she murmured. “You silly kitty. I thought you’d never go in a closet again, after what happened with Kerry Bruno.”
Kerry is Logan Bruno’s little sister. Who’s Logan? Mary Anne’s boyfriend. He’s really good looking and has this soft southern accent because he’s from Kentucky. He and Mary Anne have been going steady for a long time. They did split up when Mary Anne thought Logan was taking over her life, but they got back together again and they’re fine now. Anyway, when the Brunos first moved to Stoneybrook, Logan’s sister was lonely and wanted a pet. Kerry found Tigger outside and took him to her house and hid him in her closet for five whole days. It was very scary and Mary Anne was really upset.
“Maybe Tigger was planning to surprise Jeff,” I joked. “You know, jump out of the closet when he arrived and yell, ‘Meow!’ ”
Mary Anne giggled and shook her head. “No. He’d yell, ‘Purrsprise!’ ”
That did it. Mary Anne and I laughed so hard that we collapsed onto Jeff’s perfectly made bed. It got wrinkled, but it didn’t matter. My brother would be here soon and I was happy.
“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round.
The wheels on the bus go round and round, all around the town.”
Five-year-old Suzi Barrett and her sister Marnie were sitting in a cardboard box on the Barretts’ front porch when I arrived to baby-sit on Saturday afternoon.
“Hi, Dawn!” Suzi called. “Look at me. I’m the bus driver.”
At that moment, the front door flew open and out raced Suzi’s eight-year-old brother, Buddy. He grabbed the cardboard box and started dragging it across the porch. “Hey, Dawn. Guess what I am.”
I shrugged. “I give up.”
“I’m the tow truck,” he said. “This bus broke down.”
“It did not.” Suzi batted at his hands, trying to make him let go of the box.
“Did, too.”
“Did not.”
Marnie, who had been quietly listening to Buddy and Suzi argue, suddenly stood up in the box and ordered, “Stop! I want out.”
I shook my head and giggled. Baby-sitting for the Barretts can be like stepping into the middle of a tornado. I used to call them the Impossible Three because they were so out of control. Then I discovered the problem wasn’t the kids, it was Mrs. Barrett, who had gone through a really tough divorce. She was so busy trying to find a job and straighten out her own life that she didn’t have enough time for the children. But that’s changed. She’s happy now and the kids, who really are nice, have settled down. Sort of.
“Dawn!” Suzi cried, starting to pout. “Tell Buddy to let go of my bus.”
Even though Mrs. Barrett hadn’t left yet, I realized it was time to take charge. I hopped onto the porch. “Buddy, there’s a red light. What do tow truck drivers do when they see one?”
Buddy let go of the box and yelled, “Stop!”
“Good.” I smiled at him and ruffled his hair. Then I whispered to Marnie, “Say, ding ding.”
“Ding! Ding!” Marnie shouted.
“What’s that mean?” Suzi asked.
“It means one of your passengers wants to get off the bus,” I said. “You had better open the doors and let her out.”
Suzi, who loves to pretend, made a swooshing sound and opened the door. “Okay, passenger,” she said. “You dinged, so get off.”
Marnie didn’t budge. Now the game was getting fun for her. She beamed at me and sang, “Ding, ding! Ding, ding!”
Buddy tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. “She won’t get off the bus. Want me to arrest her?”
“I thought you were the tow truck driver,” I said.
“No.” Buddy shook his head. “Now I’m the sheriff.”
“And I’m his deputy,” Suzi added.
Luckily, Mrs. Barrett appeared at the front door before things became too confusing. She looked like a model. I’m not kidding. She was wearing cream-colored linen slacks, a blazer, and a lavender silk blouse with a pearl necklace and earrings.
“You look wonderful,” I told her.
“Oh, do you think so?” she asked, nervously patting her wavy hair. “Franklin DeWitt is taking me to Chez Maurice for dinner.”
“Chez Maurice is one of my favorite restaurants,” I said. “We always go there for really special occasions, like Mom’s birthday or when Mom and Richard got married.”
“It’s Franklin’s favorite, too. He knows Maurice,” Mrs. Barrett said. Her cheeks flushed a little brighter pink as she spoke.
“The number of the restaurant is on the bulletin board in the kitchen,” Mrs. Barrett explained as she checked the tiny gold watch circling her wrist. “There’re French fries and hamburger patties in the freezer for the kids’ dinner. You can have them eat in about half an hour.”
“All right.” I was really impressed at how organized Mrs. Barrett had become. When I first baby-sat for her, she was a disaster. Sometimes she forgot to tell me where she was going or when she’d be home. Her house was always messy, so I ended up doing her housework. I even planned the meals. It was really too much for me. So, after serious discussions with the BSC, I finally had a talk with Mrs. Barrett. Now it’s amazing how much she’s changed.
“I’m meeting Franklin downtown. We’re just going to dinner and then coming right home.” She smiled at her three children. “Franklin wants to spend time with the kids.”
“Great!” Buddy cried. “We can kick the soccer ball around. Or maybe wrestle. We did that last week and it was fun!”
Mrs. Barrett looked extra pleased that Buddy felt that way about Franklin, which made me realize her new relationship was pretty serious.
We waved good-bye to Mrs. Barrett, and before the kids could return to their game of the sheriff versus the bus passenger, I said
, “What do you say we go inside and play?”
“But I want to wait for Franklin,” Suzi said.
“They’re going to a restaurant first. Then they’re coming home,” I explained. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we eat dinner while they’re eating. We can pretend we’re in a restaurant, just like Franklin and your mom.”
The kids liked that idea. We spent the next three hours playing restaurant. First we made menus using crayons and notebook paper. Buddy and Suzi drew pictures of their favorite foods.
“What kind of food is that?” I asked Suzi as she carefully drew big red circles all over her paper.
“Hamburger,” she replied. “And pizza and donuts.”
It was hard for me not to wince. Like I said, I don’t eat red meat or fatty foods.
“How about you, Buddy?” I asked. “What are you drawing on your menu?”
Buddy drew a stick man holding a hot dog. “This is Franklin,” he said. “Eating a hot dog. I like hot dogs. Franklin gave us hot dogs last week.”
“Oh, did you go to his house?” I asked as I drew my own pictures of a spinach salad with avocado slices on whole wheat toast.
“No.” Buddy shook his head. “I don’t know where he lives.”
“Did your mom meet him at work?”
Buddy shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t know where he works. But he sure is funny.”
“Franklin gives me horseback rides,” Suzi said cheerfully. Then she picked up a blue crayon. “I’m going to put a horse on my menu.”
“Horsies!” Marnie cried.
Franklin sounded like a fun person. And just what the Barrett children needed. “I wonder if he has any kids,” I murmured out loud.
“I haven’t seen any,” Buddy said as he put the finishing touches on his menu. Then he held it up. “Ta da!” He had folded the paper in half and on the front he’d drawn a picture of a boy with a bubble coming out of his mouth. In the bubble he’d written, My Food by Buddy Barrett. Yumm.
After making the menus, the kids were ready to eat dinner. I served their food, pretending to be a waiter. I think they enjoyed ordering me around.
“Oh, miss!” Buddy called from the kitchen table. “I need catsup on my hamburger. And mustard. And pickle relish.”
Dawn's Family Feud Page 1
