The Truth About Stacey (7 page)

Wow. What happened on Monday was one of the worst events in the war between the Baby-sitters Club and the Baby-sitters Agency. As Claudia mentioned, the four original club members gathered early for our Monday meeting. We couldn't wait to talk to Janet and Leslie.

Despite the fact that Claudia's digital clock flipped to 5:35 and the new members hadn't shown up yet, the meeting got off to a good start. First, Mrs. Marshall called, needing a sitter for Wednesday afternoon. Mary Anne took the job. Then Watson, Kristy's future stepfather, needed a sitter for an early evening job on Wednesday. Kristy took that one, of course. Then Mrs. Newton called! She wanted someone to watch Jamie on Wednesday afternoon while she took Lucy to the pediatrician for a checkup. I took that job, since Claudia has art lessons on Wednesdays. We were so busy taking calls that it was 5:50 before we looked at the clock again and realized Janet and Leslie were late.

“They could have at least called to say they weren't going to make the meeting this afternoon,” I pointed out.

Even Kristy looked miffed. “I saw Janet in school today, and she didn't say anything about not coming.”

“I think it's weird that
neither
of them showed up,” said Mary Anne. “What could have happened to make them both late?”

Kristy shrugged. “Maybe they just forgot.”

“We've told them about meetings a million times,” said Claudia. “If they forgot, then they're pretty irresponsible.”

“Well, I'll call them,” said Kristy. She knew something was wrong then, because that was when she told Claudia to write about the incident in our notebook.

“No, I'll call them,” I said. “I want to know who they think they are!”

“Don't get mad,” said Kristy. “It won't help.
I'll call.
I'm the president.”

“No,
I
want to c—”

The phone rang then. Kristy and I both lunged for it, but Mary Anne was sitting practically on top of it. She beat us to it.

“Hello, the Baby-sitters Club,” she said. “… No, this is Mary Anne Spier. Can I help you? … Oh, hi, Mr. Kelly…. She
didn't?
”

Kristy and Claudia and I jerked to attention. The Kellys were the new family Leslie had arranged to sit for on Saturday night. They had contacted the club after we'd sent around our updated flyers.

“Mr. Kelly,” Mary Anne was saying, “I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what happened…. Well,I'd like to, but she's not here right now. I guess you could call her at home…. Oh, I see. Well, would you like to speak to our president? … Okay…. Sure. And I—I'm really sorry.”

Mary Anne's face was flaming. She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece, and as she passed the receiver to Kristy, she whispered, “Leslie never showed up on Saturday. She didn't even bother to call the Kellys.”

Kristy took the phone, her eyes closed, steeling herself for the conversation with Mr. Kelly. “Kristy Thomas here,” she said after a moment, “club president…. Yes, Mary Anne just mentioned that. I feel terrible. Leslie never told
me
she wasn't going to be able to keep her appointment with you. If she had, I would have sent over one of our other fine sitters…. I hope you can accept our apologies…. Sure…. Sure. Okay, goodbye.”

Kristy hung up the phone. I couldn't tell whether she was angry or scared or embarrassed. Maybe she was all three. She kept still for so long that at last I said, “He was really mad, right?”

“Yup. He and his wife had tickets to see his wife's brother perform in a concert in Stamford.
When Leslie didn't show up, he called her house, but no one was home. The Kellys had to scramble around trying to get someone to watch their kids. At last, they left them with a neighbor, but by the time they reached the concert hall, they'd missed twenty minutes of the concert.”

“Uh-oh,” said Claudia.

“Why didn't they just call one of us?” I asked.

“Simple,” snapped Kristy. “They didn't trust us, and why should they? Mr. Kelly was only calling now to make sure we knew what Leslie had done. I have a feeling the Kellys won't be calling the Baby-sitters Club again.”

“Oh, great,” I said, letting out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. “Wait'll word gets around about
this.”

The phone rang again. Nobody made a move to answer it. Finally, I picked it up on the third ring. “Hello, the Baby-sitters Club,” I said glumly. “Stacey McGill speaking…. Yes? … Oh, no, you're
kid
ding! I mean, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We had no idea. Maybe you'd like to talk to our president…. Okay, hold on.” I handed Kristy the phone, whispering, “I don't believe it. This is Ms. Jaydell. You know, the other new client? The woman
Janet
was supposed to sit for? Janet didn't show up, either.”

It was Kristy's turn to be furious. She jerked the phone to her ear, eyes flashing, and had to unclench her jaw before saying (fairly civilly), “Kristin Thomas speaking.”

I'd seen Kristy mad before, but never
that
mad.

She carried on pretty much the same conversation with Ms. Jaydell that she'd had with Mr. Kelly a few minutes earlier. The only difference was that Ms. Jaydell and her husband hadn't been able to find another sitter and had missed out on a cocktail party.

When Kristy hung up the phone, she burst into tears. It was the first time I'd ever seen her cry.

“Well, that does it,” I said, handing her a tissue from the table by Claudia's bed. “What're Janet's and Leslie's phone numbers? I'm going to call them right now. They're really hurting us.”

“No,” said Kristy, wiping her eyes. “Don't call them. I want to confront them face-to-face. We'll talk to them in school tomorrow. This wasn't any accident. They missed those jobs on purpose. I'm sure of it.”

“But why?” asked Claudia.

“Beats me,” said Kristy. “Who's going to help me face those traitors tomorrow?”

“I am!” I said.

“I am!” said Claudia.

We looked at Mary Anne. “Couldn't we confront them over the phone?” she asked.

“Over the phone is not a confrontation,” I said firmly.

“We have to be face-to-face.”

“We do?”

“Yes, we do.”

“All
of us,” added Kristy. “The whole club. United.”

“All right,” said Mary Anne at last.

None of us was looking forward to school the next day. We walked together in the morning, traveling about as fast as snails.

“When are we going to confront them?” I asked Kristy as we reached Stoneybrook Middle School.

“Yeah,” said Claudia. “We don't have any classes with them.”

“We're going to confront them right now,” Kristy replied. “I know where their homerooms are. We're going to wait for them.”

“An ambush,” said Mary Anne.

Janet and Leslie were not in the same homeroom, but the rooms were just across the hall from each other. Kristy and Mary Anne waited
by Janet's room; Claudia and I waited by Leslie's.

After about five minutes of standing around, I spotted them down the hall. “Psst! Kristy!” I said. “Here they come. Both of them.”

“Hey,” Claudia whispered to me. “Look who's with them.”

I looked. It was Liz Lewis. “I thought they didn't like Liz,” I said.

“I know.” Claudia frowned.

We watched the girls stop for a moment, talking earnestly. Then Liz waved to them and disappeared into a classroom.

Janet and Leslie saw us before they reached their homerooms. They nudged each other, laughing.

The members of the Baby-sitters Club converged on them.

“Where were you yesterday?” Kristy demanded.

“Hey
(snap, snap),
what kind of a greeting is that?” asked Janet. She must have had twelve pieces of gum in her mouth.

“I'm not kidding,” said Kristy. “I want to know where you were, and I want to know why you didn't show up for your Saturday sitting jobs. Our club is known for responsible baby-sitters.”

“So what?” said Leslie.

“So what!” exclaimed Kristy. “You're giving us a bad reputation. We're going to have to ask you to leave the club.”

“Fine with us,” replied Janet. “We,” she added with a smirk, “are members of the Baby-sitters
Agency.”
She and Leslie burst into hysterical laughter.

“But—but—” stammered Kristy.

“We had you completely fooled!”

“You're rats!” I cried suddenly. “Both of you. You did this to make us look bad! That's—it's—it's
dirty.
It's not fair.”

Janet and Leslie couldn't stop laughing. And I couldn't stop accusing. “You're liars! And—and dirty businesswomen!”

“Whoa,” said Leslie. “Get that. Dirty businesswomen. Pretty high-class talk.”

“And probably
rotten
baby-sitters,” Kristy added.

Leslie took some offense at that. “We are
not
rotten baby-sitters,” she said, bristling.

“Well, what do you call a baby-sitter who doesn't show up for a job and doesn't call the parents to explain why?”

“Hmm,” said Leslie. “Janet, what would you call that sitter?”

“I'd call her anything except late for dinner!”

Leslie and Janet doubled over with laughter at their stupid joke.

“Shut up! Shut up!” cried Kristy. “I hope you realize you're in big trouble.”

“With who?” said Janet, still laughing.

“With … with the parents. I'm going to call them and tell them exactly what happened. Then they'll call their friends, and their friends will call
their
friends. Word will get around. You'll be sorry.”

At last, the girls stopped laughing. “You wouldn't dare,” said Janet, at the same time that Leslie said, “No,
you'll
be sorry, tattletale.”

“Me? Why should I be sorry?” asked Kristy.

“Because,” replied Leslie, “Liz and Michelle will be interested in your plans. They'll just have to work a little harder to be the best sitting agency in town. But they won't mind that.”

“You—” exclaimed Kristy, simmering “—you are
pigs
!”

Janet snapped her gum. “Sorry,
kids.”
She and Leslie separated and walked into their classrooms.

Kristy, Claudia, Mary Anne, and I were left standing in the hall. For the second time in two days, Kristy began to cry. The rest of us surrounded
her and walked her into the nearest girls' room. It was pretty crowded, but we huddled in a corner and no one paid much attention to us.

“I'm so embarrassed,” Kristy wailed. “It
isn't
fair. That was a really rotten trick. Besides, a babysitting club was
my
idea, not Liz's. We worked
so hard
on our club. And even when the agency started up, we never tried to hurt them. We just tried to protect what we had.” She blew her nose on a paper towel. “Now they're purposely trying to beat us out.”

“So Liz put Janet and Leslie up to what they did,” I said slowly.

Kristy nodded. “Yes. And it's all my fault for being so stupid about taking on new members. Mary Anne was right. I should have checked on them.”

“Well,” said Claudia, “I agree that what the agency is doing to us is really mean. But I think what we have to do is just keep going—the four of us. Okay, so we can't stay out late. So we're only twelve years old. Most of our clients like us a lot. We'll just go on being as responsible and good with children and—and—what's that word that means you sort of adjust yourself to whatever people need?”

“Flexible?” suggested Mary Anne.

“Almost,” Claudia replied. “That's not the word, but it's close.”

“I know what you mean,” said Kristy. “I guess you're right. Anyway, I
am
going to explain things to Mr. Kelly and Ms. Jaydell.”

“And,” I added frantically, “there's always lower rates and housework and special deals.”

“No,” said Kristy. “I've decided that's not the way to go. The club will survive, but we don't want to become slaves. Besides, I can't deal with any of that stuff right now. We've got to think of ways to prove that
we're
better than the agency.”