Baby-Sitters Club 021

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Baby-Sitters Club 021 Page 7

by Ann M. Martin


  "Oh, boy! Shopping time!" cried Carolyn as I approached.

  "We can't wait!" added Marilyn.

  "Neither can I," I replied as the twins threw themselves at me. "Gosh, you two look great!" "We got to wear different clothes as soon as you talked to Mommy," Carolyn told me excitedly.

  "We wore different pajamas to bed that night," said Marilyn, "and different clothes to school yesterday, and these clothes to school today." "And you know what?" Carolyn went on.

  "What?" I said.

  "Right away, the kids at school tried to tell us apart." "That's great!" I exclaimed. I took each twin by the hand and we walked up the Arnolds' front path.

  "Yeah," agreed Marilyn. "Most of the time, they get us wrong, but they haven't called us 'Marilyn-or-Carolyn' for two whole days!" I led the excited twins inside, where Mrs. Arnold greeted us with a big smile and immediately bustled us down the stairs and right out the garage door and into the car.

  "Sorry for the rush," she apologized, "but I've got a lot to do today. Girls, you have your money, don't you?" "Yes," they replied. They had managed to grab their (identical) pocketbooks as their mother whisked us to the car.

  "Good. Then we're on our way." Ten minutes later, Mrs. Arnold was driving slowly through Stoneybrook's downtown, caught in a small traffic jam. "How about if I let you out up there, by Bellair's?" she asked.

  "Perfect," I said.

  Bellair's is a department store. It would be a good place to begin our shopping.

  "And why don't I pick you up in front of Bellair's in two hours?" "Okay. We'll be waiting right by that mailbox," I replied, pointing.

  Marilyn and Carolyn said good-bye to their mother, leaning over the back of the front seat to plant kisses on her cheek. Then they tumbled out of the car like puppies, and made a dash for the entrance to Bellair's.

  I ran after them. "Hey, you guys!" I called breathlessly. "We have to stick together. No running off. I wouldn't want to lose you." The girls slowed down.

  "Okay, what department should we go to first?" I asked.

  "Girls' clothing," said Marilyn and Carolyn in one voice, and I realized then that no matter how much the girls wanted to appear different from each other, there were some almost uncanny likenesses about them. They often spoke as one, or picked up on each other's thoughts as they told a story. I wondered whether they could read each other's minds.

  "Girls' clothing," I repeated. I checked the store directory. "Second floor," I announced. "Let's go." "Goody, there's the escalator," said Carolyn. "I just love escalators." We rode to the second floor and found the girls' clothing department.

  "We have a plan," Marilyn told me.

  "Yeah," said Carolyn. "Clothes are expensive, and we have pretty much birthday money, but not a lot." "So we want to be very careful today," Marilyn went on. "We want to see what we like at a lot of stores - " "And how much the things cost," cut in Carolyn.

  " - and then we'll decide what to buy and go back and get them." "That makes sense to me," I told the girls.

  So we began looking.

  At Bellair's, Marilyn tried on a beautiful pink mohair sweater. I guess she really did want to look more grown-up. Then she checked the price tag.

  "A hundred and thirty-five dollars!" she cried.

  The sweater went back on the shelf.

  Carolyn looked at a neat white sweat shirt with a glittering yellow moon and two stars on the front. "Oh, cool!" she exclaimed. "And I think I can afford it, but I better wait." Both girls looked at shoes (loafers for Marilyn, high-top sneakers for Carolyn) and immediately realized that any shoes were out of the question. Too expensive. They bypassed the nightgown rack, the underwear table, and a couple of racks of dresses that looked like the stuff their mother would have chosen for them. Then they stopped and looked at pants. I realized I'd never seen them in pants and hoped they could afford them.

  "Nice corduroys," said Marilyn.

  "Cool jeans," said Carolyn.

  Then in the same breath, they added, "We'll come back," They had pretty much exhausted the girls' clothing department by that time, so I said, "How about going to the Merry-Go-Round? You could probably find some great accessories there." "What are excorceries?" Marilyn wanted to know.

  "Accessories," I repeated. "They're little things to add to an outfit, like jewelry or barrettes or hair ribbons or cute socks." I could tell by the looks on the girls' faces that the Merry-Go-Round would be our next stop. So we left Bellair's.

  The twins fell in love with the Merry-Go-Round, and I couldn't blame them. I'm sort of in love with it myself. The three of us wandered around the store for at least fifteen minutes, calling out things like, "Ooh, look at this unicorn pin," or "Hey, cool, these barrettes are sparkly!" or "Here are knee socks with rows of hearts on them." Marilyn and Carolyn did their careful looking and planning, but I made a purchase. Two, actually. I couldn't help myself. I found earrings that were perfect for me - and for Jessi.

  They were tiny studs in the shape of open books. Since we like to read so much, I bought a pair for each of us. Best friends, I thought, should have matching earrings. We wouldn't always have to wear them together, but they'd be nice to own. And Jessi's pair would be a just-because-you're-my-best-friend present. Guess what, though? Both pairs were pierced. That's how certain I was that Jessi would be given permission to have her ears pierced, too.

  After the Merry-Go-Round, the twins and I went to a sport shop. There the girls priced socks and shirts, and I bought . . . blue pushdown socks! I would have to stop buying things, though, or I'd never be able to pay for the ear-piercing and half of my haircut.

  "You guys," I said, as we left the sport shop, "we have to meet your mom in a little less than an hour, so I think you better decide what you want to buy, and then go back and get the things. Are you ready to do that?" "Yes," said Marilyn.

  "I think so," said Carolyn.

  "Do you need to do some figuring?" I asked them. They looked like they were frantically trying to add prices in their heads. I could practically see their eyeballs whirling around from the effort. "There's a bench. Let's sit down," I suggested.

  We sat down and I pulled a pad of paper out of my purse. After much discussion and scribbling and adding and subtracting, we went back to Bellair's.

  "Clothes first," said Marilyn. "They're more important than excorceries." In the girls' clothing department Carolyn tried on the "cool jeans" she had seen. "They're a little expensive, but I can wear them with almost all of my shirts and blouses and sweaters," she said sensibly.

  Marilyn tried on the corduroys and didn't like them. "I'm more used to skirts and dresses," she admitted. "I don't want any more baby dresses or things with straps, though. I saw a cute pink jeans skirt. Maybe I should try that on. It was grown-up." Twenty minutes later, we left Bellair's. Marilyn was carrying a bag with the jeans skirt and a ruffly white blouse in it. She had forked over at least three quarters of her money for them, but looked quite pleased and proud. Carolyn was carrying a bag with the jeans and the moon-and-stars sweat shirt in it. The grins on both girls' faces were at least a mile wide.

  We went back to the Merry-Go-Round. Marilyn bought the knee socks with the hearts on them ("I'm tired of tights," she explained) and a pair of pink barrettes.

  The barrettes were important because the girls had made a decision about their hair. "If Mommy won't let me get my hair cut right away," said Carolyn, "at least we can wear our hair differently." "I'm going to pull mine back with barrettes," said Marilyn.

  "And I'll wear a headband," added Carolyn, who found one she liked at the Merry-Go-Round.

  Our last stop was the sport shop. Marilyn was out of money, but Carolyn bought some push-down socks like the ones I'd gotten, except that they were yellow, to match her new sweat shirt.

  As we left the sport shop, the girls turned satisfied faces toward me.

  "All our money is gone," commented Marilyn, "but we don't care." "Yeah, we are so lucky," said her sister. "And from now on, when Mommy g
oes shopping, we'll go with her. We'll never have to wear yucky clothes again." Don't count on it, I thought, knowing how mothers can be. But Mrs. Arnold was going to try to be understanding. I was pretty sure of it.

  I looked at my watch. "Ten minutes until your mother will be back," I said. "What do you want to do?" "Oh, please," began Carolyn, "could we go to the ladies' lounge in Bellair's and put our new clothes on? Please? Then we could surprise Mommy when we meet her." I didn't see why not, so we returned to Bellair's and told a sales clerk what we wanted to do. The clerk cut the price tags off of the clothes, and Marilyn and Carolyn did a quick change in the lounge. Then we dashed outside to the mailbox.

  No Mrs. Arnold yet. I took a moment to really look at the twins. With their new hairdos, they appeared more different than ever. And, I thought, they seemed to have changed from the terrible, troublesome twins into two sunny little girls whom I could tell apart even when they "matched." I thought back to when I began sitting for them and wondered how I could ever not have been able to tell Marilyn from Carolyn. And I remembered what terrors they'd been and how I'd dreaded Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Now I looked forward to them - but my steady job would be over soon. I hoped Mrs. Arnold would need me to sit sometimes in the future. I'd take care of the troublesome twins any day! A few minutes later, Mrs. Arnold's car pulled to a stop by the mailbox, and the twins and I scrambled inside. I wish I'd had a camera to capture the expressions on Mrs. Arnold's face when she saw Marilyn and Carolyn. First she looked, well, almost horrified. . . then amazed . . . and finally pleased. I think she liked her daughters' new appearances, but they would take some getting used to.

  I knew that the Arnolds, all of them, were going to be just fine.

  Chapter 14.

  "Guess what, guess what, guess what!" "What?" I cried. Jessi's voice was at the other end of our phone, and I had never, and I mean never, heard it so excited.

  "My parents said I can get my ears pierced!" "Oh, wow! That is awesome!" I screeched. "Now we can go together!" At the next meeting of the Baby-sitters Club, Jessi and I told the other girls our news.

  Claudia started to laugh. "You won't believe this," she said. "It must be ear-piercing season in Stoneybrook! I just got permission to have another hole pierced in one of my ears!" "You're kidding!" I cried. "Then we should all have them done at the same time. Where are you going to have your ear done?" "I'm not sure. . . ." "Hey," said Kristy, "I've got an idea." (Naturally.) "We haven't had a club party in awhile.

  Instead of one, how about if we pay Charlie to drive us out to Washington Mall next Saturday. You three could have your ears pierced at that boutique, and then we could shop and eat lunch and stuff. You want to?" Of course we did.

  "Gosh," said Claud, suddenly looking almost sad, "it's too bad Stacey's not here. She would love this. She'd probably have another hole pierced in one of her ears, too." "Why don't you call her?" suggested Kristy in a gentler-than-usual tone. "At least tell her what we're going to do. I bet she'd want to know. Oh, but, um, well, why don't you call her after the meeting so you don't tie up the line?" (The old Kristy again.) "Okay," agreed Claud glumly. Then she brightened. "Hey, Kristy, Mary Anne, Dawn - are you guys going to ask if you can have your ears pierced, too? You should. It would be fun." "No way!" exclaimed Kristy. And Mary Anne shook her head. (Dawn shook hers, too, but she looked a little uncertain.) "My father won't let me," explained Mary Anne, "but we'll definitely come with you," she assured us.

  "Yeah. We wouldn't miss it for the world!" said Dawn.

  Five days later, Charlie Thomas was dropping us off at an entrance to Washington Mall. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. "See you at three!" he called as he drove off.

  Jessi, Dawn, Mary Anne, Claudia, Kristy, and I practically ran inside. I was so excited that my heart was pounding, and I could hear its beat in my ears.

  "What should we do first?" asked Kristy when we were in the center of the mall, surrounded by the stores and restaurants and exhibits.

  What were we going to do first? Weren't we heading straight for the ear-piercing boutique? I'd waited more than eleven years for this moment. We weren't going to postpone it... were we?

  I gave Kristy a tortured glance, and she laughed. "Just kidding. Of course we're going to do ears first. Come on, everybody." We headed for the boutique. On the way, Jessi grabbed my hand.

  "I'm getting scared," she said.

  "Don't be. I mean, try not to be. I think it's going to be fine. You know, they freeze your ears with this spray before they pierce them, so you don't feel anything. Well, you feel the punch, but it doesn't hurt - " I stopped. The more I said, the worse Jessi looked.

  Claudia noticed her then and exclaimed, "Cheer up! This is fun. We're going mailing, you guys. We've never done this as a club!" Mailing. It had a nice ring to it.

  Thirty seconds later, the six of us were gathered around the ear-piercing boutique. We were looking at the display of earrings.

  "May I help you?" asked a young woman. She was wearing a name tag that read "Sue," and I was relieved to see that it wasn't the same woman Claire had scared to death when she'd screamed, watching the ear-piercing with Margo and me.

  My friends looked at me, so I stepped forward. I was feeling pretty calm. I usually am calm. In fact, the more there is to be nervous about, the calmer I become.

  "I want to get my ears pierced, please," I told Sue, "and so does she," (I pointed to Jessi), "and she wants one more hole in one ear," I added, indicating Claudia.

  "Very good." Sue smiled. "Choose your earrings first. We suggest the simple gold studs, no large hoops or anything fancy." "Okay," I said.

  Jessi and I chose tiny gold balls and Claudia produced an earring she already owned, which Sue said she could use after it had been sterilized.

  "All right. Who's first?" Sue wanted to know.

  My friends were grinning. Somebody nudged me forward. "Go on, Mal," said Dawn. "Ear-piercing was your idea." I hopped onto the stool. In a few minutes, my ears would be pierced. I would look so, so cool. I didn't care what the piercing would feel like.

  Sue took a pen and made a tiny mark on each of my earlobes. "Do those look even to you?" she asked. "If they do, that's where I'll make the holes." I leaned over and examined the marks in a mirror on the counter.

  "Perfect," I said.

  Then, spray! Sue blasted my right ear with something cold. And punch. She came at me with that gun, an earring loaded into it like a bullet. Spray again. Punch again. "All done!" said Sue. The gun had pierced my ears and put the earrings in all at once.

  I looked in the mirror. I couldn't believe it. There were my ears, shining with actual earrings! I had done it! I felt incredibly cool.

  "Who's next?" asked Sue as I slid off the stool.

  I was sure Claud would hop onto the stool, since Jessi looked like a nervous wreck while Claud seemed to be your basic cool cucumber. But Claud pushed Jessi forward. I guess she thought it would be better for Jessi to get it over with, so she could stop feeling so nervous.

  Reluctantly, Jessi climbed onto the stool and Sue marked her ears. "Hold my hand," she whispered to me, sounding extremely embarrassed.

  No problem. I gripped her hand. Jessi squeezed her eyes shut.

  Spray, punch! Spray, punch! Jessi hadn't moved. Her eyes were still closed.

  "It's over," I told her.

  "You're kidding," she replied. She opened her eyes. "That was nothing!" "Look at yourself in the mirror," said Sue.

  Jessi looked - and grinned.

  "Pretty sexy," Mary Anne teased her.

  "Okay, Claud, you're on," said Kristy.

  Ever so casually, Claudia climbed onto the stool. Sue marked a second spot on one of her ears.

  "That looks fine," said Claudia breathily. She folded her hands and sat back. She might have been in a restaurant, waiting for someone to come take her order.

  Spray! Punch! "Thanks!" said Claud brightly. She jumped up - then started to slump to the floor.

  Krist
y and Dawn caught her arms and eased her back onto the stool.

  "Put your head between your legs," Sue instructed her briskly.

  Claud did as she was told. After a moment, she raised her head.

  "Feel better?" asked Sue.

  Claudia nodded sheepishly. "I think I can walk now." "Okay, but just a sec," said Sue. "I have to give all three of you a few instructions on caring for your ears over the next few weeks." She talked to us about cleaning the holes with alcohol, and not changing the earrings, and turning the posts. Then we paid Sue and left.

  "I am so, so embarrassed. I can't believe I almost passed out," wailed Claudia. At the same time Dawn cried, "Wait! I changed my mind. I want my ears pierced after all. I've got to call my mom!" The next few moments were sort of confusing. Mary Anne sat down on a bench with Claud and tried to make her feel better. Kristy dashed off with Dawn to look for a pay phone, and Jessi and I kept trying to find mirrors or windows in which we could admire our ears.

  Five minutes later, Jessi, Dawn, and Kristy gathered at the bench.

  "My mom gave me permission!" cried Dawn. "And guess what. She said I could get two holes in each ear!" So we returned to Sue.

  Spray, punch, punch! Spray, punch, punch! When we finally left the ear-piercing boutique for good, we went mailing. First, we sort of window-shopped to see what was what. Those of us who had just had our ears pierced were pretty low on money, though.

  Then we ate lunch at Burger King. "Lunch is being paid for out of the club treasury," Kristy announced, "since we're mailing instead of having a party or a sleepover." After lunch, we made the rounds of the stores again. Kristy and Mary Anne kept ducking into little shops and making secret purchases. They wouldn't tell the rest of us what they were buying.

 

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