"Have you spoken to Mal lately?" asked Stacey.
"Last night. And guess what. Now Claire and Mar go aren't feeling too good." "Well, that's it," said Stacey.
"That's what?" Kristy wanted to know.
"That's all eight kids. They're all sick. Just what Mrs. Pike was afraid of. What's wrong with Claire and Margo?" Stacey asked Jessi. "The triplets' pneumonia?" "Mal didn't think so," Jessi answered. "She said they sounded more as if they just had colds." "Let's hope so, for Mr. and Mrs. Pike's sakes," I said.
"Claire and Margo weren't even going to stay home from school today," added Jessi.
"I guess that's something," said Stacey. "I used to make my mother crazy when I stayed home sick . . . me. One person. Can you imagine waiting on six sick kids? Well, Nicky and Vanessa aren't actually sick, but still ..." The meeting was almost over. The numbers on Claud's digital clock were creeping toward six. At 5:59, since we weren't on a job call, Mary Anne felt it was safe to ask Kristy a nonbusiness question.
"What are you doing next Sunday?" she wanted to know.
"Nothing. Why? Are you free?" Mary Anne nodded.
"You want to come over? Better yet, come for dinner on Saturday and spend the night. I'm sure it'll be okay with Mom. Karen and Andrew will be there, and our house will be so crazy no one will notice another person." "Great!" replied Mary Anne. "Thanks! I'm there." I should have been happy, considering how I'd been complaining about the weekends and being with Mary Anne. I knew that. But I wasn't happy. Not one bit. I felt left out, which I knew was silly. If Mary Anne and I hadn't been sisters Kristy probably wouldn't have asked me, either. But that wasn't the problem. What was bothering me was that Mary Anne had started this. She had asked if Kristy was free. Maybe she didn't like the weekends any better than I did. And if that were true, what did it say about us? I was beginning to wonder if we were meant to be sisters at all.
Chapter 11.
Even though I was hurt, I made a special effort to be nice to Mary Anne that night. And she seemed like her regular old self. On our way home, she teased me about the job with Jenny. Later, when I grew quiet, she asked, "Is anything wrong?" "Oh, no. I'm fine," I said quickly. "Looking forward to sitting for Jenny." Mary Anne giggled.
We were riding our bicycles through what was left of the late afternoon sun. Soon it would be dark.
"Have you spoken to Jeff lately?" asked Mary Anne.
I smiled. Mary Anne knows that talking to Jeff usually cheers me up. "Yeah. He's fine." I paused. Should I tell Mary Anne about Dad's girlfriend? Yes, I decided. She was my best friend and my sister. She should know about things like that. "Um, my dad's got a girlfriend who's over at the house all the time. At least, that was what Jeff said." "Does Jeff like her?" Mary Anne wanted to know.
"Mmm. ..." I frowned. "It was hard to tell. I think he's trying to like her." Mary Anne accepted that.
We reached our house, put our bicycles in the barn, and ran inside. All during dinner that evening I was nice to Mary Anne. She was nice back. Maybe we were getting along better after all.
I hoped so.
Mary Anne remembered to ask her father about their old house, but all Richard said was, "The real estate broker told me she thought she had a buyer for the house, but she didn't give me any more details." Pretty boring.
When dinner was over and the kitchen had been cleaned up (in jiffy time, thanks to Richard's help), Mary Anne and I headed upstairs to do our homework.
"What have you got?" Mary Anne asked as we settled down at our desks. They were right next to each other.
I made a face. "Math and science," I replied. "And a little English." "And I've got math and science, too, plus French. I am really going to have to concentrate," added Mary Anne. "This math is hard." "Definitely," I agreed.
We opened our books and worked silently. When it had taken fifteen minutes for me to solve the first problem, and Mary Anne had solved three, I realized I wasn't concentrating very well. The room was too quiet. I needed some music to help me pay attention.
I reached over and turned on my radio. I keep it tuned to WSTO, the local station, all year long in case of a surprise school closing. WSTO usually doesn't have very good music, though, so I steeled myself for a polka festival or something. Instead, I found the WSTO Fifties Festival.
"Oh, great!" I exclaimed. "I don't believe it. WSTO never has good music like this. . . . What is this song? . . . Oh, it's Buddy Holly - I think." Mary Anne tossed me a funny look, but I was so caught up in the music that I barely paid attention to her. I listened to the end of the song, the music turned down low, and to the beginning of the next one before I went back to work. The music did the trick. I solved four problems quickly and I knew they were right.
But . . . "Dawn?" spoke up Mary Anne in the middle of an Elvis Presley song.
"Yeah?" "Could you please turn that off?" "Why? Don't you like the music?" "No. I mean - no, it's not that. I just can't concentrate." I sighed. I turned the radio lower, but not off.
We worked for about five more minutes before Mary Anne said tensely, "Dawn, I really need you to turn that off. 1 can't think unless I have silence." Without a word I switched the radio off.
"Thank you," said Mary Anne.
"You're welcome," I replied. (But not really, I thought.) We worked for another five minutes - until I realized something. I wasn't working. I needed the music. I don't always need music, but that night I did.
I turned the radio back on.
"Dawn!" exclaimed Mary Anne.
"What?" "The radio. I just told you I can't work with that noise." "And tonight I can't work without it." "Can't you please turn it off?" "No. Go in the guest room and work there if it bothers you so much." "Me? Go in the guest room?" "Yeah. Nothing in there is going to bite you." And then I added, "The secret passage is in here." Mary Anne bristled. "I'm not afraid of that stupid passage. Besides, being afraid doesn't have anything to do with anything. The point is, you're throwing me out of our room." "I am not throwing you out!" I cried.
"Well, you were the one who wanted me to share your room so badly. And now you're telling me to do my homework in another room!" "Just for tonight!" I shouted.
"But my desk is in here - where you insisted it be." "You went along with it." "So?" "So it's not my fault your desk is in here. And it's not my fault you can't concentrate without absolute silence." "I am - " Mary Anne was exploding when we both saw Tigger jump off of her bed and streak out of the room.
I don't know about Mary Anne, but that was when I realized just how loud our fighting had become. And wouldn't you know, about three seconds later Mom and Richard ran into our room.
"All right," said Richard, "what's going on in here?" He and Mom were standing just inside the doorway, looking from me to Mary Anne and back again. They were waiting for an answer.
Mary Anne pointed to me. "She is being too noisy," she told her father. "I can't concentrate on my homework." I pointed at Mary Anne. "She wants total silence," I told my mother. "I can't concentrate on my homework that way." "What kind of noise are you making?" Mom asked me.
"I've just got the radio on. WSTO is having a Fifties Festival." "I'd go work in the guest room, but my desk is in here," said Mary Anne pointedly.
"Wait a second," said Mom. "Nobody should have to leave." "Well, someone's going to have to," I replied.
Mom's face immediately took on that "Now-listen-to-me-young-lady" look.
"Now listen to me, young lady," she said. (I knew it! She was mad, all right. I don't get called "young lady" very often.) "I don't want to hear any talking back." "Mom, I - " "All right, wait a second," Richard broke in. "This is getting us nowhere. Let's start at the beginning. Sharon and I need to hear the whole story. Dawn, will you please tell your side?" I smirked. Mary Anne's father wanted to hear my side first, not his own daughter's.
"Okay," I said. "We both have a lot of homework tonight, right?" I gave Mary Anne a chance to talk, hoping that would make me look good.
"Right," sh
e said sulkily.
"And we both agreed that we need to concentrate, right?" I was being awfully fair.
"Right." "Okay. We started working and I couldn't get the math. The room was too quiet. So I turned on the radio to help me concentrate.
And right away I could work better. Only the next thing I knew, Mary Anne was fighting with me." "I was not!" she cried.
"Never mind," said her father. "Okay, now tell us your side from the beginning, Mary Anne." Mary Anne drew in her breath. "It was just like Dawn said. Only the radio was driving me crazy. I need quiet to work in." "Couldn't you give in just a little?" Richard asked Mary Anne. "Try something new. I don't think you're being fair to Dawn." And I couldn't believe that Richard was speaking. Richard, King of the Rules. Richard, who used to make Mary Anne wear her hair in braids, who wouldn't let her talk on the phone after dinner or ride her bike downtown. The King of the Rules was telling Mary Anne to give in a little, and was taking my side. What a surprise! But I had another surprise coming, because just then Mom said, "Richard, don't be tough on Mary Anne. If she needs silence for her homework then she needs silence. Don't expect her to change. Besides, I don't think the girls should be working and listening to music at the same time." What? It sounded almost as if my mom were making a rule. Worse than that, though, Mom was taking Mary Anne's side.
I challenged her. "So? What are you guys going to do about this? I want music and Mary Anne doesn't. What are you going to do?" I glanced at Mary Anne. Darn her. She was just sitting there crying. Now she would get attention and sympathy from Mom and Richard.
Wrong again. She only got it from Mom. The room was divided into camps. Mom and Mary Anne versus Richard and me. We were even standing on different sides, facing each other.
"The easy solution to this," said Richard, "is for the girls to do their homework in separate rooms." "But who's going to leave?" asked Mom. "Whoever leaves is going to feel as if she's been kicked out." She put her hands on Mary Anne's shoulders. Mary Anne just kept on crying.
"Maybe the girls could alternate," suggested Richard.
"You know," I said to Mary Anne, "when my real brother was living here, we hardly ever fought like this. In fact, you and I didn't fight until you moved in." "Until we became stepsisters," said Mary Anne angrily.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," said Richard. "Do you girls think you can work this problem out tonight?" "Yes," I said. "I'll work in the stupid guest room." "Don't bother," replied Mary Anne. "It would be silly for you to do that since I'm going to be sleeping there tonight." And with that, she started yanking the covers off of her bed.
Mom gave me a look that plainly said, "Now see what you've done?" But I didn't care. Mary Anne was just as much a part of this problem as I was. If she wanted to go and sleep in the guest room - fine. That was her decision. She sure was making me look bad, though. I had not, I realized, gotten just a stepsister. I'd gotten a wicked stepsister.
Chapter 12.
A Pike nightmare! In all honesty, nobody was in dire straits that Saturday. As Jessi pointed out, Mal, Nicky, and Vanessa were just about better, except that Nicky would have to wear his cast for two more weeks. And the triplets were on the road to recovery, but they needed their rest because they still tired out very quickly. Margo and Claire were feeling the worst of all, Mrs. Pike wasn't in much pain but she couldn't walk, and Mr. Pike was in more pain and couldn't use his right hand. All in all, it was not a healthy household, and with both the adults out of commission, Mrs. Pike thought they could use some help. So on Saturday morning (after Mr. Pike had spent half the night waiting around in the emergency room), Mrs. Pike called Claudia to see if the BSC could provide two sitters on an emergency basis (extra pay) for most of the day. Claudia couldn't take the job, but she called the other club members and found that Jessi and Kristy were free for the day. So Charlie drove Kristy to the Ramseys', picked up Jessi, and then dropped the girls off at the Pikes'.
"Thanks!" they called as he backed down the driveway, and Kristy added, "I'll call you later about a ride home!" Jessi rang the Pikes' bell then, and both she and Kristy were surprised when Mallory answered the door. She was even dressed.
"You're up!" exclaimed Jessi.
"Yup," said Mal. "Out of bed. I even feel pretty good, but I am not up to handling this crowd today. Not by myself. The three of us ought to be able to handle things, though, with a little help from Nicky and Vanessa. We'll be going back to school on Monday." "Great!" said Kristy. She started to let herself in, but Mal held the door closed.
"Wait a sec," she said. She turned and walked away. Jessi and Kristy looked at each other with question marks on their faces. "Okay," said Mal, returning. She opened the door a crack and stuck her hand out. In it were two surgeon's masks. "Wear these whenever you're in the house," she said. "They'll keep you from catching pneumonia or bronchitis - I hope." "Do we have to?" asked Kristy.
"Do you want pneumonia?" replied Mal.
"Let me think it over," said Kristy. "I could use a break from school." But, of course, she put her mask on. So did Jessi.
Then Mal let them in.
"Oh, my lord," said Kristy, sounding just like Claudia. "What a mess. I know what our first job is." The Pike house looked, as Richard would say, as if a tornado had blown through it. There was stuff everywhere. And no one had cleaned up the kitchen from the disastrous dinner the night before.
"Well, you might think you know what your first job is," Mal told Kristy and Jessi, "but the clean-up will have to come later. Guess what comes first - breakfast." "Breakfast?" repeated Kristy. "For everyone?" "Yup. And seven of those breakfasts have to be served in bed on trays." According to Jessi, Kristy looked, at that moment, as if she were going to faint. But she pulled herself together. "Okay. Breakfast. What do people like to eat?" "Oh, don't ask them," replied Mal. "You'll get ten different answers. Breakfast this morning is scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. For everybody. Oh, and coffee for Mom and Dad." "All right," said Kristy uncertainly.
And Jessi added, "I thought Claire didn't like scrambled eggs." "She doesn't," replied Mal. "But don't worry about it." So my friends set to work in the kitchen. As it turned out, they had to clean it up just a little bit in order to use it. When that was done they set up an assembly line to fix the breakfasts. Mal scrambled a dozen and a half eggs in two huge frying pans. Jessi made toast after piece of toast, and Kristy set seven trays, plus three places at the table.
"Oh, set two more places," said Mal. "For you and Jessi." "That's okay," Kristy replied. "I don't think we're going to be eating much. I think we'll be pretty busy." Kristy was right. No sooner had the girls started carrying the trays upstairs than they heard comments such as, "But I don't like scrambled eggs," or, "I want French toast, not regular toast," or "Can't I have milk instead of orange juice?" "This is NOT a restaurant," Mal yelled from the hallway, where everyone could hear her. "Either eat it or beat it." "We can't beat it," said Claire pathetically. "We have to stay id our beds. Bobby said dot to get up." "Bobby?" Jessi asked Mal.
"She means Mommy." Kristy, Mal, and Jessi finished passing out the unwelcome trays. The only people who seemed glad to see them were Mr. and Mrs. Pike. Then Mal sat down to breakfast with Vanessa and Nicky.
Kristy and Jessi took coffee to Mal's parents. They brought paper towels to Claire, who had spilled orange juice over her quilt. Then Margo said, "Could I puh-lease have sub fruit?" "Some fruit?" repeated Jessi. "I don't see why not. That's healthy." So Jessi sliced up a banana for Margo.
"You'll be sorry," Mal warned her.
"Why?" asked Jessi.
She found out soon enough.
"If Margo gets a banana, then I want milk," said Byron.
"And I want fruit, too," said Adam. "And I want French toast," said Jordan. Breakfast wasn't over for two hours.
The day wore on. Kristy and Jessi did all the chores Mr. Pike had planned to do. They washed seven loads of laundry. They changed the triplets' beds. They emptied overflowing wastebaskets.
"Remind me," Kristy said as she and Jessi were folding the third load of laundry, "never to baby-sit on an emergency basis again. I'm not sure I could take it." "But think of all the money we're earning," Jessi pointed out.
"I know. And just imagine - our parents do this for free everyday." "They must be crazy." Ding, ding, ding.
"Darn. There's Margo and Claire's bell again," said Kristy. "I'd like to kill Mal for giving it to them." "I'll see what they want," said Jessi. She happily abandoned the laundry.
Jessi ran up to the girls' room. She checked her mask before opening their door. It was in place.
"Yes?" she said.
Margo and Claire were both tucked into Margo's bed. They were giggling.
"Guess what we are," said Margo.
"Mmm, you're . . ." Jessi had no idea what they were.
"We're two peas in a pod!" shouted Claire.
Jessi giggled. "That's pretty funny. Who thought it up?" "Be!" cried Claire.
"Be!" cried Margo.
Which was pretty funny itself, except that it caused an argument over who really had thought it up.
At four-thirty, Mal said to Jessi and Kristy, "We should start working on dinner. I'm a little nervous. We're running out of stuff." "You're low on milk," said Jessi.
"I know. And on bread and butter and eggs. How are we going to last until Monday? That's when the doctor said Dad could start using his hand again." "Maybe Stacey's mother could go to the store for you," suggested Jessi, "since she lives - " "Wait!" cried Kristy. "I've got an idea. We'll ask Charlie to stop at the store on his way over here. Can you pay him back for whatever he buys?" "Sure," replied Mal.
So Kristy talked Charlie into doing the Pikes' shopping. She had to agree to pay him for his work, but that was okay. He deserved it. Especially since, after he reached the Pikes', he put on a surgeon's mask and stayed to help my friends cook dinner.
When the job was done, and he and Kristy and Jessi were walking to his car, Charlie said, "Boy, the Pikes' house sure is clean. Does it always look that way?" Kristy and Jessi grinned at each other. If only he knew.
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