Free The Truth About Stacey by Ann M. Martin

and
Pat the Bunny
for Lucy.
    Mary Anne’s gifts were the best of all: a red ski hat for Jamie and a little pink hat for the baby.
    â€œI made them,” she said shyly. “Can you tell?”
    â€œYou’re kidding!” I exclaimed. “You
made
those?”
    â€œThen you couldn’t tell?”
    â€œNo way!”
    â€œMary Anne, I didn’t know you could knit,” said Kristy.
    Mary Anne glanced at Claudia, who smiled at her.
    â€œMimi’s teaching her,” said Claudia. “She’s been dying to teach someone, but Janine and I aren’t interested.”
    â€œShe remembers my mother,” added Mary Anne. “She tells me about her while I work.”
    â€œThat’s—that’s great,” I said. (Was that what I was supposed to say?)
    Mary Anne brightened. “She’s going to help me make a scarf for my father.”
    â€œWow!” We were all impressed.
    Claudia hauled a big square carton out of her closet. “Okay, go to town,” she said.
    We looked in the box. It was jammed with stuff Claudia had collected over the years: plastic flowers, papers hearts, beads, bows, ribbons, felt animals. “Those are package decorations,” she told us. “We can make our own wrapping paper with these.” She opened a shoe box that was full of rubber stamps. “See? I’ve got four ink pads in different colors. You can stamp this white paper to make any design you want. Then we’ll decorate the packages with the other stuff.”
    We got right to work. I printed red hearts and blue flowers on Lucy’s paper, and big green frogs saying “Ribbit!” on Jamie’s paper. When we were finished, we admired our packages briefly, and then ran to the Newtons’ house.
    Jamie answered the door. “Hi-hi,” he greeted us.
    Mrs. Newton appeared behind him. “Hello, there! Oh, I’m so glad to see you! Jamie has missed you, and I’m dying for you to meet Lucy. Come on inside.”
    We stepped through the door. I was surprised to see that Mrs. Newton still looked, well, fat. Not pregnant exactly, but not the way I’d thought she would look after the baby was born.
    â€œOh, you girls are so sweet. You’ve brought gifts. You didn’t have to do that.”
    â€œWe know,” said Kristy, grinning.
    â€œWe just wanted to,” I added.
    â€œYeah,” said Mary Anne. “Babies are special.”
    Jamie eyed the presents, then glanced at his mother. “Are any of those for me?”
    â€œJamie! It’s not polite to ask!” Mrs. Newton turned to us. “I’m sorry. The last week has been difficult. Jamie is a bit J-E-A-L-O-U-S,” she spelled. “L-U-C-Y has been given a lot of P-R-E-S-E-N-T-S.”
    â€œWell, you’re in luck, Jamie,” said Claudia. “Four of these are for you.”
    â€œFour!” cried Jamie.
    We didn’t make him wait. We handed him his presents and he tore into them. “What do you say?” prompted Mrs. Newton.
    â€œThank you,” replied Jamie automatically. He was wearing the hat and trying to read the book and play with the toys at the same time.
    Then we gave Mrs. Newton Lucy’s gifts.
    â€œLet’s go peek at the baby before I open them,” she said. “I wish Lucy was awake so you could hold her, but she’s still napping.”
    She led us upstairs and into the little room that had been fixed up for Lucy. A big white cribstood in one corner, but Lucy was asleep in a blue bassinet near the door. “She’s too little for the crib,” Mrs. Newton whispered. “Infants feel more secure in a small bed.”
    The members of the Baby-sitters Club silently surrounded the bassinet and peered inside.
    â€œOhhh,” I breathed.
    â€œShe’s so
little,”
whispered Mary Anne.
    She certainly was. I guess I hadn’t realized just how little a newborn baby really is.
    â€œCan I touch