Mom and Dad exchanged looks. “We,” Mom stressed the word, pointing her finger at Dad, then at herself, “need to leave on Thursday.”
Ohh. This was just a Mom-and-Dad trip, I thought, disappointed.
“We talked to Russ and Peaches,” Dad began.
Russ and Peaches are my favorite aunt and uncle, the parents of my favorite cousin, baby Lynn. Having Lynn around all weekend would definitely help make up for missing out on a trip to Chicago.
“But they really have their hands full taking care of Lynn,” he finished.
“We can help them with Lynn,” I said.
“We have another idea,” Mom said. “How would you girls feel about staying here alone? Not alone, exactly, since there would be two of you.” She laughed nervously. “We’ll only be gone from Thursday evening through Sunday afternoon.”
A weekend with no parents? Janine and me here alone, together? I could leave my homework until Sunday night because no one except my sister would be here to help me — and surely she’d have things to do on a weekend with no parents. This was sounding better and better.
I glanced at Janine and found her looking at me, her eyes gleaming in a way I wasn’t too sure I liked. She turned to Mom and Dad. “That sounds like a well-thought-out plan to me. I’d be delighted to take care of Claudia.”
Take care of? Mom and Dad didn’t say anything about Janine “taking care of” me. They said leave us here alone together.
“Claudia?” Everyone’s eyes were on me.
“Sounds like a plan to me too. But …”
“Wonderful.” Mom stood up and actually clapped her hands.
“Of course we’ll leave money for pizza one evening,” Dad assured us.
“And I’ll prepare casseroles and leave them in the freezer,” Mom said.
“Claudia and I are perfectly capable of cooking for ourselves. It will be fun, won’t it, Claud? Planning meals, cooking them? We can rent a couple of videos. Maybe we can go shopping! I can’t wait!”
Again, everyone was staring at me. I forced a smile. The look in Janine’s eyes made me wonder what she planned to shop for. Matching sister outfits, maybe?
Already, I was nervous.
Abby had known things weren’t going very well between Melody and Bill as early as the telephone call she made on Friday, to tell Mrs. Korman she would sit for the kids on Saturday afternoon. She’d hoped that they’d reach a truce before it was time for the sitting job. At first, it seemed as if they had.
Since the Kormans live on Abby’s street, she walked to their house.
The doorbell hadn’t finished chiming before Mrs. Korman flung open the front door. “Come on in, Abby. We’ll be ready in a moment,” she said, leading the way to the back of the house.
When they reached the kitchen, Mrs. Korman lifted Skylar out of her high chair and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Mr. Korman and I are taking Skylar to a gym class this afternoon. We shouldn’t be gone too long.”
Through the door to the den Abby could see Mr. Korman down on one knee talking to Bill. Bill’s arms were folded tightly against his chest and he was looking at the floor.
“The phone number of the gym is posted by the telephone. Melody is upstairs in her room. I’ll let her know you’re here. I have to grab Skylar’s bag,” said Mrs. Korman, her eyes darting back and forth between Abby and the scene in the den.
“I’ll take Skylar for you.” Abby held out her arms and Skylar buried her head in her mother’s shoulder.
Mrs. Korman handed her to Abby.
“Hey, Skylar, are you going to learn to do some somersaults? Cartwheels, maybe?” Abby asked.
Skylar yawned.
“Let’s clean you up a little. Everyone will know you had applesauce for lunch.” Abby carried her to the sink, ran warm water over a paper towel, and wiped Skylar’s face. Skylar twisted her head and pulled away.
“You look all fresh and rosy now. We’ll do the same thing to your high chair.” Abby picked up the empty bowl with traces of applesauce on the sides and placed it on the counter, then ran the towel over the tray of the high chair.
Mr. Korman joined them and Skylar reached out to him. He took her from Abby. “Did Mrs. Korman tell you where we’re going?” he asked.
“Yes. And she showed me the number by the phone.”
Mrs. Korman reappeared. “Melody will be down as soon as she finishes picking up the game she and Bill were playing,” she said. “What’s the weather like? Do we need jackets?”
“It’s perfect outside,” Abby said.
“Let’s go.” Mrs. Korman held the door for her husband. “Are they going to behave?” Abby heard her say to Mr. Korman as the door shut.
“Hi, Bill!” Abby joined him in the den, where he was slumped on the sofa watching a movie. “How’s school?” Bill is nine. He and Melody go to Stoneybrook Day School.
“Okay, I guess. Better than home. At least it keeps me away from my bratty sister for a while,” he said.
“Is this a video?” Abby asked, recognizing the movie.
“Nope. It’s on cable today. I love this part,” he said, staring at the screen. Abby got the message. He didn’t want to be disturbed.
She decided to go upstairs and say hi to Melody, who is seven. As Abby walked to the back staircase, she wondered what it would be like to live in a house this big. Her house is large and so is Kristy’s, but the Kormans’ house is the biggest one on the street.
Melody was sitting in the middle of the floor, picking up the pieces of a board game, one at a time. “I don’t see why Bill doesn’t have to help. He was playing too,” she said to Abby before Abby had a chance to say a word.
“I think Bill is watching a movie,” Abby said. As soon as she saw the expression on Melody’s face, she wished she hadn’t mentioned it.
Melody jumped to her feet. “He knew I wanted to watch the cartoon marathon. And Mom said I could.” She pushed past Abby and ran downstairs.
Abby followed close behind.
“It’s my turn to watch the television in here,” Melody announced as she barged into the den. She picked up the remote control and switched the channel. “Mom said I could at lunch, and I know you heard her.”
“Did you hear your mom say that, Bill?” Abby asked.
“Let her watch her cartoons. I’ll go upstairs and watch in Mom and Dad’s bedroom.”
“Fine. I don’t want you in here anyway.” Melody curled up on the couch.
“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Bill, for being so cooperative.” Abby smiled at him and reached out to give him a high five as he walked past, but he ignored her.
“How about a snack? I could fix something,” Abby suggested, hoping to improve their moods a little. “What sounds good?”
“There’s ice cream and chocolate syrup and whipped cream in a can,” Melody said. “You could make sundaes.”
“Sounds good to me. Bill?” He had stopped at the bottom of the staircase when Abby mentioned the snack.
“Okay. Will you bring it up when it’s ready? I don’t want to miss any more of the movie.”
Abby thought a moment. She didn’t like setting a precedent of waiting on kids, but he had agreed to go upstairs pretty easily. “Sure. It’ll take a few minutes.”
Bill disappeared up the staircase.
In the freezer, Abby found vanilla ice cream. She set it out on the counter while she gathered the rest of the ingredients. There was a jar of cherries in the pantry, so she decided to add a cherry to each sundae.
The ice cream was hard packed and she had to let it soften for a while. Just as she decided it was ready to scoop, Bill stomped through the kitchen.
“Bill! What’s going on?” she called after him. There was no answer.
Abby filled the bowls with ice cream, poured on chocolate syrup, covered it all with whipped cream, then dropped a cherry on top of each sundae. As she was placing the bowls on a tray to take into the den, she heard a shriek.
Hoping that the sight
of her ice-cream creation would end whatever problem was brewing, Abby picked up the tray and rushed into the room. Melody was standing in front of the television screen, blocking the picture.
“Out of the way, I said. I’m missing my movie,” Bill yelled.
“I thought you were going to watch it upstairs,” Abby said.
“That TV is too little. I can’t see a thing. She can watch her dumb cartoons up there. Who cares whether you can see them or not? Melody, move out of the way right now.”
“No! I’m watching what I want.” She leaned against the screen.
Bill ran to her and gave a her a shove out of the way, then grabbed the remote control. Melody held on tightly to it.
“Stop! Stop it right now,” Abby said firmly, looking for a safe place to set the tray.
Melody and Bill fell to the floor, wrestling for control of the remote. Bill stood up, pointing the device toward the TV and changing the channel. Abby parked the ice cream on a table far away from the wrestling match and moved in toward Bill and Melody.
Before Abby could reach them, Melody grabbed Bill’s arm. Bill shoved her, harder this time, and his sister fell back, hitting her head on the sofa with a thunk. She screamed.
Abby dropped to her knees beside Melody. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“My head! I hit my head!” Melody wailed. “It was his fault. He pushed me. You saw him!” Her cries rose and fell as Abby checked for blood or a bump and didn’t feel anything serious.
“Shh!” Abby pulled her close and rocked Melody back and forth. “There’s no blood. We’ll put some ice on your head and it will be fine.”
Bill backed toward the door. “Wait a minute,” Abby said to him. “Melody, you sit here on the sofa while I find an ice bag.”
Melody nodded and wiped her face. “What about my ice cream?” she asked.
Abby shook her head. “It’s a shame you were hurt and Bill shouldn’t have pushed you. But you were fighting too.”
Bill was reaching for one of the bowls of ice cream.
Abby picked up the remote control and turned off the television. “Bill, please put that down and tell Melody you’re sorry.”
“I am not sorry,” he said and shoved a spoonful of sundae into his mouth.
Melody started to whimper again.
“You need to go to your room and think about why you’re not ready to apologize to your sister,” Abby suggested.
Bill slammed his bowl onto the table and stomped out of the room.
Taking a deep breath, Abby picked up the tray of sundaes. Ice cream wasn’t an option in the present climate.
In the kitchen, Abby dumped the melted sundaes into the garbage disposal, then grabbed a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. It would make a perfect ice bag.
“Can I watch my show now?” Melody asked Abby as she entered the den.
“I think we’ll leave the television off for a while,” Abby said. “Where did you hit your head?”
“Here.” Melody pointed to the back of her head.
Abby draped the “ice bag” over the injured spot. “Does the ice help any?” she asked.
Melody nodded and the bag slipped off. Abby rearranged it. “You need to sit quietly or it won’t stay in place,” she said. She spotted a copy of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 on the end table. “Would you like me to read to you while you rest?” Abby asked.
Melody nodded again and the bag slipped again. “You might want to hold it in place,” Abby suggested. She opened the book and started reading.
They were starting the third chapter when Abby heard the garage door open.
“It’s Mom and Dad.” Melody jumped up. Still holding the peas in place she ran to the back door.
“What happened to you, young lady?” Mrs. Korman said.
Melody sniffed once and then burst into tears. Mrs. Korman gathered her up in a hug and looked at Abby. Then Mr. Korman entered, carrying a sleeping Skylar, and headed up the stairs, looking briefly at his wife and older daughter and frowning.
“Bill, he … he grabbed the remote control and he threw me down on the ground and jumped on top of me, hitting me and hitting me until I couldn’t hold on to it anymore. Then I tried to take it back and he pushed me real hard and I fell into the couch and hit my head. And it really hurts.” Melody cried into her mother’s shirt.
Mrs. Korman looked at Abby again.
“Bill and Melody were arguing over the remote control. He did push her, and she fell, but …” Abby began, wanting to explain that both the children had been fighting.
“Not again,” said Mrs. Korman in a tired voice. She wriggled free of Melody. “What started the argument over the remote?”
“You said I could watch cartoons, but Bill was watching a movie.”
“We have two televisions in this house,” said Mrs. Korman.
“But Bill didn’t want to watch upstairs and neither did I,” Melody explained. “When he changed the channel, I stood in front of the TV and that’s when he started pushing me.”
Mrs. Korman sighed.
Mr. Korman and Bill came downstairs. “What’s this all about?” Mr. Korman asked. “Melody, Bill says that you wouldn’t let him watch television with you.”
“They both wanted to watch the television in the den, but they wanted to watch different shows,” Abby explained. “While I was fixing a snack, they started arguing over the remote and things got a little rough. Bill shoved Melody and she hit her head.”
“People may get hurt when you use your hands instead of words to work things out,” Mrs. Korman said to Bill. “I think you owe your sister an apology for pushing her so hard.”
“But it wasn’t my fault,” said Bill. “She was standing in front of the TV and nobody else could see it.”
“Bill,” Mr. Korman said, a note of warning in his voice.
“No. I’m not sorry. She’s a big tattletale baby.” Bill folded his arms across his chest.
“You’ll go to your room right now, young man. And you may consider yourself grounded,” Mr. Korman announced as Bill stomped away once again.
“I’m really sorry that this happened, Mrs. Korman,” said Abby. “I think Melody’s okay. There’s only a small bump and the skin wasn’t broken.” In fact, Melody was wearing a half smile as she watched her brother disappear.
“It’s not your fault, Abby. This is becoming all too common in our house these days.” Mrs. Korman tucked her hair behind her ears. “Melody, go into the den and turn on your cartoons for a while. Bill won’t bother you again.”
Melody’s smile grew and she skipped into the den.
“I’m going to go see Bill before I leave, if that’s okay,” Abby said. She knew how hard it was to admit being wrong, but maybe she could talk to him and make him see that he should apologize to Melody.
“Sure, go ahead.” Mrs Korman picked up the bag of peas Melody had dropped on the floor. Mr. Korman filled a teakettle with water and set it on the stove.
Upstairs, Abby knocked softly on the door to Bill’s room.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“Abby. I came to say good-bye. May I come in?”
“Good-bye,” Bill said grumpily.
Abby opened the door partway but didn’t step inside. “I know how easy it is to say something hurtful or do something you’ll regret later. But I always feel better once I apologize.”
“I don’t,” Bill insisted. “The brat deserved it.”
Abby backed away. Bill had his mind made up.
The door to Bill’s room slammed behind her. And Abby headed for home.
I’m not a morning person, especially on weekends. I like to stay in bed and think in pictures. I close my eyes and see paintings I’d like to make, sculptures I’d like to create, scenes I’d like to photograph. I also think about clothes. That’s what I was doing when the phone rang early (early for me, not for the rest of the world) on Saturday morning.
“Hello,” I mumbled. It was the first word I’d spoken that day, and I
can understand why someone would think I was still asleep.
“Claudia? Is this Claudia?” Josh asked, sounding unsure.
I sat up. “Hi, Josh. It’s me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, are you?”
“When you didn’t call last night, I started to worry. And then when you answered the phone …”
I pulled my knees up and rested my forehead against them. I’d forgotten to call Josh, after I’d promised I would.
“Claudia? Are you there? Knock, knock,” he said.
“I’m here and I’m fine. Except I feel awful about not calling you last night. Janine helped me with my math homework, then my mom and dad came in with this big announcement, then they surprised us with a video. Josh, I’m really, truly sorry I forgot.” And I was.
“That’s okay. As long as you’re all right.”
That was Josh through and through. He was worried about me instead of being angry.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Thinking about what I’m going to wear tonight. You can still go, can’t you?” All of a sudden, I started to worry that he was calling me with bad news.
“I remember — you, me, Mary Anne, Logan, Stacey, and some extra cool guy from the city. In fact, I was calling to remind you. In case you’d forgotten that too.”
It was a dig, but it was a gentle one, and I deserved it.
“Where are we going?” Josh asked.
“Dinner at the Rosebud Café, then maybe a video at Stacey’s. We’re meeting everyone around six at the Rosebud.”
“Claud, what should I wear? I mean, what will the other guys be wearing?”
I detected something new in Josh’s voice. Was he nervous? Surely not. He knew Stacey and Mary Anne, even Logan. “It’s just dinner and a video. No big deal,” I assured him.
“But what will I say to all those people?”
He was nervous. “Josh, I’ve never known you to run out of things to say. And it’s not really ‘all those people.’ You know everybody except Ethan. It’ll be fun.”
“Sure,” Josh said. Then he added, “Is there any chance there’ll be a few hours in the day when we’re not with your friends or getting ready to be with your friends?”
Claudia's Big Party Page 3
