Chapter Seven - Stacey
2,618 words.
Because every BSC book needs approximately eight zillion BSC meetings. Right?
Chapter Seven - Stacey
Kristy, you said that the job with the Bellairs should go in this notebook too. But you also said I should talk about getting the job.
We've written about BSC meetings before- in the mystery notebooks, or sometimes when we're working on a special project.
But we've never written about a meeting that wasn't really special. There were meetings where I fought my dad to let me come back from New York to get there, and the first meetings I went to after I'd get out of the hospital after a problem with my blood sugar, and those horrible first meetings where we had to deal with the Baby-Sitters' Agency. But never just, like, a normal meeting.
And despite what would happen later, the meeting really was one of the most normal BSC meetings ever. I mean, we had snacks, we got jobs, we even got a new client. Not really exciting BSC fare.
At least, not until everything that came later...
I didn't have a job on Friday afternoon, so at 4:45 I threw on my rain gear and ran to Claudia's house. I don't live far from her or anything, but it was storming so badly that I could barely see straight. I thundered up the porch steps (er... no pun intended. I'm not Abby.) and rang the doorbell. After a few moments, Janine opened the door.
"Hello, Stacey," she said primly. "You are certainly overly prompt today."
"I guess so," I said. I squeezed my hair out onto the porch before stepping into the front hall. I peeled off my boots and hung my jacket on one of the pegs in the hall. "Where's Claudia? Does she have a job today?"
"Not in the sense you'd mean, I'd imagine." Janine looked at me over the rim of her glasses. "I was tutoring her in mathematics. Claudia is to be working on a problem set, currently."
"Why not take a break, Janine?" I suggested. "I can help her until our meeting starts."
Janine actually smiled at me. "I was hoping to accomplish some additional readings in my philosophy textbook tonight. Descartes is fascinating."
Of course he is. "I don't mind at all," I said. "I can go upstairs to help her. You think that'd be okay, right?"
"Therefore I am!" Janine chirped, smiling. But the grin faded as I stared blankly. "I was attempting to make a humorous statement playing upon both the philosophy in which I am currently indulging and the comment you chose to make, Stacey," she said, sighing at my ignorance. "Yes, you may work with Claudia, if you wish."
"Cool. Thanks, Janine!" I ran upstairs before she could change her mind.
As I opened the door gently, Claud immediately covered whatever she had been doing. "Hey, Janine," she said, "I don't understand number-"
"Relax, Claud," I said. "It's just me." I sat on the edge of her bed. "What were you doing?"
Claudia peeled back her hands, revealing a quick but gorgeously done pencil drawing of a little girl clutching a teddy bear and a balloon. The bear wore a sash indicating it was related in some way to the BSC, and the balloon had her phone number. "This," she admitted.
"That's amazing, Claud!" I exclaimed.
"Thanks," she said modestly. "Janine let you in?"
"Yeah. She said I could work with you while she reads about carts or something."
"Great!" Claudia beamed at me. "Janine's explanations are, like, barely in English."
I grinned. "Come here. Let's look at this problem set again, okay?"
We worked for almost half an hour. Unusually, no one else showed up until five twenty-five, so we had plenty of time to almost finish her math homework before Mallory came upstairs.
"Hey, Mal!" Claud said happily, cutting off my explanation of what X equaled in mid-sentence. "What do you want today, Mallomars or M+Ms?" Claud could have asked me, but because of my diabetes, I can't eat either of those. Sometimes I have chips, but today, Claud gave me half an apple for my after-school snack.
"Hmm." Mal looked thoughtful. "Do you have peanut M+Ms, or regular?"
"Both!"
Mal grinned. "Let's go for that, then."
"Okay!" Claudia reached for a box labeled Portrit Suplys.
I conceded the time of math studying gracefully. "How were the Hobarts, Mal?" I asked.
She laughed. "We built a giant pillow fort," she said. "James told ghost stories to scare hsi brothers, and I made them s'mores in the microwave. And then Ben came home and told stories that scared James, and managed to get Matthew and Johnny to help with it." She giggled. "I think James is going to stop teasing his little brothers. At least for a few days."
Claud and I exchanged a knowing look. Mal and Ben Hobart are sort of going out. So of course everything about the kids flew out the window. We had a whole five minutes until the meeting, and we had our priorities straight. "Ben, hmmm?" Claudia teased. "He just happened to be there?"
Mal blushed bright red. "He came home early!"
"Sure he did," I started, but I cut myself off at Kristy's arrival. "Hey," I said cheerily.
"Gosh, the weather's horrible," she said. "Poor Charlie. The Junk Bucket can't take this storm."
"Yikes," Mal said mildly. Then she offered Kristy the bag of chocolate she was holding. "M?"
Kristy grinned. "Yeah. Thanks." She took a handful of milk chocolate candies and shoved them into her mouth.
Mary Anne showed up right on her tail, panting. She had been at the Perkins' house, across the street - right where Kristy had lived, actually, until she moved in to Watson's mansion. The Perkins are great kids, creative and talented and incredibly cuddly. Mary Anne, like the rest of us, loves sitting for them. "Sorry!" she said, running up into the room. "Mr. Perkins was a little late. Sorry."
Kristy grinned a chocolate-stained smile at her best friend. "It's cool," she asserted. She gestured towards Claudia's digital clock radio. "You still have two minutes."
"Oh, great!" Mary Anne visibly relaxed, then walked over to sit on the bed. The rest of us took our traditional seats: Mary Anne and Claud on the bed (they left space for Abby), Mal on the carpet next to an empty seat for Jessi, me straddling Claudia's desk chair leaning backwards against her desk, and Kristy, of course, sprawled out in the director's chair, adjusting her visor. Just like normal.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Where are Jessi and Abby?" Kristy asked impatiently, her eyes never leaving Claud's clock.
"Mom's probably home late again," Mal said. "Not that I blame her. If it were me, I'd-"
"Order!" Kristy chirped.
"-spend all day out," Mal finished, but quietly, settling into BSC Professional Mode.
"Any club business?" Kristy asked.
We all shrugged. "Not Dues Day," I pointed out. "But does anyone need any new supplies for their Kid Kits?"
"Jamie used up my red crayon," Mal said. "So I should probably buy a new box."
I handed her a five-dollar bill. "Bring me change, okay?"
"Sure."
"Anyone else?" I asked. We were all killing time, waiting for Abby and Jessi, but at least we all knew it.
I was giving Mary Anne money for a new set of paper dolls when Abby and Jessi rushed ito the room, soaking wet and panting for air. Claud took one look at them and went to the linen closet to get some towels to dry them off.
Both of them had kicked their shoes downstairs. Abby's black Adidas pants, her tee shirt, and the tops of her socks were streaked with mud. Jessi was just soaking wet.
"What happened?" Kristy asked.
"Mal's mom was late," Abby said. (Mallory smiled an "I Told You So" smile.)
"And I was talking to Byron," Jessi said.
"Anything new?" Kristy asked.
"Yeah, actually." Jessi carefully refolded the towel Claud handed her and sat down on it, hugging her knees to her chest. "There are big problems at the Pike Corral."
"There's a shock," Mal muttered.
"Byron wants to play with his brothers," Abby said. "And they'd let him; they're really upset he won't play with him."
"But," Jessi continued, "he's really mad. He doesn't want to even talk to Adam or Jordan until they apologize."
"And they won't," Abby said. "Because they refuse to accept they did anything wrong."
"So all three of them are miserable," Jessi concluded. "And Adam and Jordan feel lost, and Byron's all alone."
"Fun times at the Chateau du Pike," Mal cracked.
"Well, is there anything we can do?" Kristy wondered aloud.
"Buy the Pikes a bigger house," Jessi suggested
"Adopt Byron" was Abby's thought.
"Listen," Mary Anne said quietly. And at that we all stopped.
"You're right, Mary Anne," Claud said. "That's all we really can do, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question, though.
"Who's got the next job there?" Kristy asked.
Mary Anne flipped through the record book. "No one for a few days," she said. "Mal and Claud are sitting for them on Wednesday night, from six to nine thirty."
"Anyone want to trade?" Mal asked. "I have to live with them."
We all laughed. "Cheer up, Mal," Jessi said. "At least you're getting paid for interacting with your brothers and sisters. With Aunt Cecilia around, I have to spend time with my siblings for free."
"Aw, but Becca and Squirt are so much fun!" Mary Anne pointed out.
"I know," Jessi admitted. "But you try living with them!"
We were all still giggling over that when the phone rang. Kristy held a finger up to her lip, the international sign for Shh!, as she answered the phone. "Hello, Baby-Sitters Club!" she said professionally. "Oh, of course we take new clients!" Now Kristy was grinning so hard, I thought her jaw might fall off. Not that I blamed her. We were all smiling. We love new clients.
Kristy was repeating important details out loud, so that we could all follow the conversation and Mary Anne could get important details down on paper. "You found out about us from Mr. Spier? Oh, that's great! So how do you spell that? -Oh, like the department store. Neat." She put her palm over the receiver. "Bellair, Mary Anne. Like the store."
"Got it," Mary Anne murmured as she wrote carefully.
"Three kids. Two girls and a boy," Kristy was repeating. "No, that's no problem at all. How old are they?" She adjusted her visor as they spoke. "Okay. So Kayla is nine, Danielle is seven, and Brian is four?" She was quiet for a long time, while they explained some details, I guess. Then she said "When do you need a sitter?"
I glanced at Mary Anne's writing. 2 G - K (9) + D (7). 1 B - B (4). She was biting her lip in concentration. I smiled at her.
"If you give us your phone number," Kristy said, "we'll call you right back. Okay, great. Thanks. We'll call you in a few minutes. Bye!" Kristy hung up.
"What's the number?" Mary Anne asked. "And when do they need a sitter?"
Kristy reeled off the digits. "And Sunday, from eleven to six. Mr. Bellair will be home, but busy. He says that he knows it's short notice, but he can't move a whole family into a new town while simultaneously entertaining three kids by himself."
"Wow, just him? That must be hard," Claud said.
"Where are they from, Kristy?" Jessi asked.
"New York City," Kristy said. She glanced at me. "Manhattan. Just like you, Stace."
"Wow," Mary Anne murmured. Mary Anne absolutely loves New York City. I knew that, if she ended up with the job, she'd cling to every word all three kids said. I love Mary Anne, but I hoped she wouldn't get the job. The kids would have enough of a problem fitting in without feeling like the New York Freak Show.
"Who's free?" Kristy asked, and then added "I'm not. Krushers practice."
"I'm taking Margo, Nicky, and Claire to practice," Mal said.
"I'm taking Jamie Newton," Claud said. "Mariah and Gabbie Perkins, too, I think."
"I'm baby-sitting for Matt and Haley," Jessi said. "Don't worry, Kristy, Matt's still going to practice. But I'll be helping Haley, Vanessa, and Charlotte to come up with some new Krusher cheers. I already talked to Mrs. Braddock, and I promised the girls."
Mary Anne looked up from the record book. "And I was planning on going shopping with Dad and Sharon for a new winter coat. So, Abby and Stacey, it's between you guys."
I was about to offer Abby the job - her home is almost always empty, and she hates staying there alone - but before I could, the phone rang again. "Hello, Baby-Sitters Club," Claud said quickly. "Oh, hi, Mrs. DeWitt. Someone to take Buddy and Suzi to Krushers' practice on Sunday? No, it's not short notice. Don't worry about it. We'll call you right back, okay? Great, thanks. Bye!" After she hung up, she turned to Abby and me. "Guess no matter what, you've both got jobs."
"What do you want, Stacey?" Abby offered. "Baseball Barretts or Captivating New Clients?"
Before I could answer, again, I was interrupted, this time by Kristy. "If you guys don't mind," she said to us, "I could really use Abby at Krushers practice."
"Sure!" Abby said cheerfully. "Batty Abby, at your service!"
"You got the batty part right, at least," Claud said, and I giggled. We all did - even Abby. Abby loves all jokes, and she especially loves them when the punch line makes fun of her.
"So, Stace, you're okay with the new clients?" Kristy asked me. Her hand was on the phone receiver. Kristy likes to be on top of these things.
"Sure," I said with a grin. "It should be fun. I know just what it's like to move from New York City to Stoneybrook in the middle of the school year just because of a divorce. We can connect."
"You think there was a divorce?" Mal asked.
"Well, yeah," I said with a shrug. "Kristy said they only had one parent, right?"
"There's more than one way for that to happen," Abby said stiffly. She didn't have her normal smile. I instantly felt guilty for what I'd said; Abby's dad died when she was nine.
Mary Anne gave Abby a quick hug, and I felt even worse. Her mom died when she was just a baby.
I was feeling incredibly insensitive for reminding them. Not like they don't remember on their own. But after a moment, Abby shrugged it off. "You're probably right, Stacey. It's most likely just a divorce or something. But it's got to be hard for a man to have two daughters depending on him."
"Poor guy," Kristy murmured. "Three young kids, all on his own." I knew she was thinking of her own history. Her parents didn't have a divorce - her dad just left. And her mom was left with four young kids, three of whom were boys. It was funny, I realized, how we all assumed we knew what was going on based on our own history.
Kristy called the Bellairs and then the Barrett-DeWitts to let them know that Abby and I would be there this Sunday. Sometimes, when I step back, I'm amazed by how professional a group of thirteen-year-old girls can be.
Soon it was six o'clock. It had been a busy meeting; I got two more jobs after the Bellair one. I was excited. New clients, lots of jobs, and a new Short Takes class? It was shaping up to be an exciting month!
Because every BSC book needs approximately eight zillion BSC meetings. Right?
Chapter Seven - Stacey
Kristy, you said that the job with the Bellairs should go in this notebook too. But you also said I should talk about getting the job.
We've written about BSC meetings before- in the mystery notebooks, or sometimes when we're working on a special project.
But we've never written about a meeting that wasn't really special. There were meetings where I fought my dad to let me come back from New York to get there, and the first meetings I went to after I'd get out of the hospital after a problem with my blood sugar, and those horrible first meetings where we had to deal with the Baby-Sitters' Agency. But never just, like, a normal meeting.
And despite what would happen later, the meeting really was one of the most normal BSC meetings ever. I mean, we had snacks, we got jobs, we even got a new client. Not really exciting BSC fare.
At least, not until everything that came later...
I didn't have a job on Friday afternoon, so at 4:45 I threw on my rain gear and ran to Claudia's house. I don't live far from her or anything, but it was storming so badly that I could barely see straight. I thundered up the porch steps (er... no pun intended. I'm not Abby.) and rang the doorbell. After a few moments, Janine opened the door.
"Hello, Stacey," she said primly. "You are certainly overly prompt today."
"I guess so," I said. I squeezed my hair out onto the porch before stepping into the front hall. I peeled off my boots and hung my jacket on one of the pegs in the hall. "Where's Claudia? Does she have a job today?"
"Not in the sense you'd mean, I'd imagine." Janine looked at me over the rim of her glasses. "I was tutoring her in mathematics. Claudia is to be working on a problem set, currently."
"Why not take a break, Janine?" I suggested. "I can help her until our meeting starts."
Janine actually smiled at me. "I was hoping to accomplish some additional readings in my philosophy textbook tonight. Descartes is fascinating."
Of course he is. "I don't mind at all," I said. "I can go upstairs to help her. You think that'd be okay, right?"
"Therefore I am!" Janine chirped, smiling. But the grin faded as I stared blankly. "I was attempting to make a humorous statement playing upon both the philosophy in which I am currently indulging and the comment you chose to make, Stacey," she said, sighing at my ignorance. "Yes, you may work with Claudia, if you wish."
"Cool. Thanks, Janine!" I ran upstairs before she could change her mind.
As I opened the door gently, Claud immediately covered whatever she had been doing. "Hey, Janine," she said, "I don't understand number-"
"Relax, Claud," I said. "It's just me." I sat on the edge of her bed. "What were you doing?"
Claudia peeled back her hands, revealing a quick but gorgeously done pencil drawing of a little girl clutching a teddy bear and a balloon. The bear wore a sash indicating it was related in some way to the BSC, and the balloon had her phone number. "This," she admitted.
"That's amazing, Claud!" I exclaimed.
"Thanks," she said modestly. "Janine let you in?"
"Yeah. She said I could work with you while she reads about carts or something."
"Great!" Claudia beamed at me. "Janine's explanations are, like, barely in English."
I grinned. "Come here. Let's look at this problem set again, okay?"
We worked for almost half an hour. Unusually, no one else showed up until five twenty-five, so we had plenty of time to almost finish her math homework before Mallory came upstairs.
"Hey, Mal!" Claud said happily, cutting off my explanation of what X equaled in mid-sentence. "What do you want today, Mallomars or M+Ms?" Claud could have asked me, but because of my diabetes, I can't eat either of those. Sometimes I have chips, but today, Claud gave me half an apple for my after-school snack.
"Hmm." Mal looked thoughtful. "Do you have peanut M+Ms, or regular?"
"Both!"
Mal grinned. "Let's go for that, then."
"Okay!" Claudia reached for a box labeled Portrit Suplys.
I conceded the time of math studying gracefully. "How were the Hobarts, Mal?" I asked.
She laughed. "We built a giant pillow fort," she said. "James told ghost stories to scare hsi brothers, and I made them s'mores in the microwave. And then Ben came home and told stories that scared James, and managed to get Matthew and Johnny to help with it." She giggled. "I think James is going to stop teasing his little brothers. At least for a few days."
Claud and I exchanged a knowing look. Mal and Ben Hobart are sort of going out. So of course everything about the kids flew out the window. We had a whole five minutes until the meeting, and we had our priorities straight. "Ben, hmmm?" Claudia teased. "He just happened to be there?"
Mal blushed bright red. "He came home early!"
"Sure he did," I started, but I cut myself off at Kristy's arrival. "Hey," I said cheerily.
"Gosh, the weather's horrible," she said. "Poor Charlie. The Junk Bucket can't take this storm."
"Yikes," Mal said mildly. Then she offered Kristy the bag of chocolate she was holding. "M?"
Kristy grinned. "Yeah. Thanks." She took a handful of milk chocolate candies and shoved them into her mouth.
Mary Anne showed up right on her tail, panting. She had been at the Perkins' house, across the street - right where Kristy had lived, actually, until she moved in to Watson's mansion. The Perkins are great kids, creative and talented and incredibly cuddly. Mary Anne, like the rest of us, loves sitting for them. "Sorry!" she said, running up into the room. "Mr. Perkins was a little late. Sorry."
Kristy grinned a chocolate-stained smile at her best friend. "It's cool," she asserted. She gestured towards Claudia's digital clock radio. "You still have two minutes."
"Oh, great!" Mary Anne visibly relaxed, then walked over to sit on the bed. The rest of us took our traditional seats: Mary Anne and Claud on the bed (they left space for Abby), Mal on the carpet next to an empty seat for Jessi, me straddling Claudia's desk chair leaning backwards against her desk, and Kristy, of course, sprawled out in the director's chair, adjusting her visor. Just like normal.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Where are Jessi and Abby?" Kristy asked impatiently, her eyes never leaving Claud's clock.
"Mom's probably home late again," Mal said. "Not that I blame her. If it were me, I'd-"
"Order!" Kristy chirped.
"-spend all day out," Mal finished, but quietly, settling into BSC Professional Mode.
"Any club business?" Kristy asked.
We all shrugged. "Not Dues Day," I pointed out. "But does anyone need any new supplies for their Kid Kits?"
"Jamie used up my red crayon," Mal said. "So I should probably buy a new box."
I handed her a five-dollar bill. "Bring me change, okay?"
"Sure."
"Anyone else?" I asked. We were all killing time, waiting for Abby and Jessi, but at least we all knew it.
I was giving Mary Anne money for a new set of paper dolls when Abby and Jessi rushed ito the room, soaking wet and panting for air. Claud took one look at them and went to the linen closet to get some towels to dry them off.
Both of them had kicked their shoes downstairs. Abby's black Adidas pants, her tee shirt, and the tops of her socks were streaked with mud. Jessi was just soaking wet.
"What happened?" Kristy asked.
"Mal's mom was late," Abby said. (Mallory smiled an "I Told You So" smile.)
"And I was talking to Byron," Jessi said.
"Anything new?" Kristy asked.
"Yeah, actually." Jessi carefully refolded the towel Claud handed her and sat down on it, hugging her knees to her chest. "There are big problems at the Pike Corral."
"There's a shock," Mal muttered.
"Byron wants to play with his brothers," Abby said. "And they'd let him; they're really upset he won't play with him."
"But," Jessi continued, "he's really mad. He doesn't want to even talk to Adam or Jordan until they apologize."
"And they won't," Abby said. "Because they refuse to accept they did anything wrong."
"So all three of them are miserable," Jessi concluded. "And Adam and Jordan feel lost, and Byron's all alone."
"Fun times at the Chateau du Pike," Mal cracked.
"Well, is there anything we can do?" Kristy wondered aloud.
"Buy the Pikes a bigger house," Jessi suggested
"Adopt Byron" was Abby's thought.
"Listen," Mary Anne said quietly. And at that we all stopped.
"You're right, Mary Anne," Claud said. "That's all we really can do, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question, though.
"Who's got the next job there?" Kristy asked.
Mary Anne flipped through the record book. "No one for a few days," she said. "Mal and Claud are sitting for them on Wednesday night, from six to nine thirty."
"Anyone want to trade?" Mal asked. "I have to live with them."
We all laughed. "Cheer up, Mal," Jessi said. "At least you're getting paid for interacting with your brothers and sisters. With Aunt Cecilia around, I have to spend time with my siblings for free."
"Aw, but Becca and Squirt are so much fun!" Mary Anne pointed out.
"I know," Jessi admitted. "But you try living with them!"
We were all still giggling over that when the phone rang. Kristy held a finger up to her lip, the international sign for Shh!, as she answered the phone. "Hello, Baby-Sitters Club!" she said professionally. "Oh, of course we take new clients!" Now Kristy was grinning so hard, I thought her jaw might fall off. Not that I blamed her. We were all smiling. We love new clients.
Kristy was repeating important details out loud, so that we could all follow the conversation and Mary Anne could get important details down on paper. "You found out about us from Mr. Spier? Oh, that's great! So how do you spell that? -Oh, like the department store. Neat." She put her palm over the receiver. "Bellair, Mary Anne. Like the store."
"Got it," Mary Anne murmured as she wrote carefully.
"Three kids. Two girls and a boy," Kristy was repeating. "No, that's no problem at all. How old are they?" She adjusted her visor as they spoke. "Okay. So Kayla is nine, Danielle is seven, and Brian is four?" She was quiet for a long time, while they explained some details, I guess. Then she said "When do you need a sitter?"
I glanced at Mary Anne's writing. 2 G - K (9) + D (7). 1 B - B (4). She was biting her lip in concentration. I smiled at her.
"If you give us your phone number," Kristy said, "we'll call you right back. Okay, great. Thanks. We'll call you in a few minutes. Bye!" Kristy hung up.
"What's the number?" Mary Anne asked. "And when do they need a sitter?"
Kristy reeled off the digits. "And Sunday, from eleven to six. Mr. Bellair will be home, but busy. He says that he knows it's short notice, but he can't move a whole family into a new town while simultaneously entertaining three kids by himself."
"Wow, just him? That must be hard," Claud said.
"Where are they from, Kristy?" Jessi asked.
"New York City," Kristy said. She glanced at me. "Manhattan. Just like you, Stace."
"Wow," Mary Anne murmured. Mary Anne absolutely loves New York City. I knew that, if she ended up with the job, she'd cling to every word all three kids said. I love Mary Anne, but I hoped she wouldn't get the job. The kids would have enough of a problem fitting in without feeling like the New York Freak Show.
"Who's free?" Kristy asked, and then added "I'm not. Krushers practice."
"I'm taking Margo, Nicky, and Claire to practice," Mal said.
"I'm taking Jamie Newton," Claud said. "Mariah and Gabbie Perkins, too, I think."
"I'm baby-sitting for Matt and Haley," Jessi said. "Don't worry, Kristy, Matt's still going to practice. But I'll be helping Haley, Vanessa, and Charlotte to come up with some new Krusher cheers. I already talked to Mrs. Braddock, and I promised the girls."
Mary Anne looked up from the record book. "And I was planning on going shopping with Dad and Sharon for a new winter coat. So, Abby and Stacey, it's between you guys."
I was about to offer Abby the job - her home is almost always empty, and she hates staying there alone - but before I could, the phone rang again. "Hello, Baby-Sitters Club," Claud said quickly. "Oh, hi, Mrs. DeWitt. Someone to take Buddy and Suzi to Krushers' practice on Sunday? No, it's not short notice. Don't worry about it. We'll call you right back, okay? Great, thanks. Bye!" After she hung up, she turned to Abby and me. "Guess no matter what, you've both got jobs."
"What do you want, Stacey?" Abby offered. "Baseball Barretts or Captivating New Clients?"
Before I could answer, again, I was interrupted, this time by Kristy. "If you guys don't mind," she said to us, "I could really use Abby at Krushers practice."
"Sure!" Abby said cheerfully. "Batty Abby, at your service!"
"You got the batty part right, at least," Claud said, and I giggled. We all did - even Abby. Abby loves all jokes, and she especially loves them when the punch line makes fun of her.
"So, Stace, you're okay with the new clients?" Kristy asked me. Her hand was on the phone receiver. Kristy likes to be on top of these things.
"Sure," I said with a grin. "It should be fun. I know just what it's like to move from New York City to Stoneybrook in the middle of the school year just because of a divorce. We can connect."
"You think there was a divorce?" Mal asked.
"Well, yeah," I said with a shrug. "Kristy said they only had one parent, right?"
"There's more than one way for that to happen," Abby said stiffly. She didn't have her normal smile. I instantly felt guilty for what I'd said; Abby's dad died when she was nine.
Mary Anne gave Abby a quick hug, and I felt even worse. Her mom died when she was just a baby.
I was feeling incredibly insensitive for reminding them. Not like they don't remember on their own. But after a moment, Abby shrugged it off. "You're probably right, Stacey. It's most likely just a divorce or something. But it's got to be hard for a man to have two daughters depending on him."
"Poor guy," Kristy murmured. "Three young kids, all on his own." I knew she was thinking of her own history. Her parents didn't have a divorce - her dad just left. And her mom was left with four young kids, three of whom were boys. It was funny, I realized, how we all assumed we knew what was going on based on our own history.
Kristy called the Bellairs and then the Barrett-DeWitts to let them know that Abby and I would be there this Sunday. Sometimes, when I step back, I'm amazed by how professional a group of thirteen-year-old girls can be.
Soon it was six o'clock. It had been a busy meeting; I got two more jobs after the Bellair one. I was excited. New clients, lots of jobs, and a new Short Takes class? It was shaping up to be an exciting month!