Free The Truth About Stacey by Ann M. Martin Page A

her?” I asked Mrs. Newton softly.
    She nodded.
    I leaned over and ran my finger along one of Lucy’s tiny hands. It was soft as silk, and perfect: four little fingers and a thumb, each ending in a fingernail no bigger than a speck. I breathed in. Lucy smelled sweet, like baby powder and milk. I ran my hand lightly over the fine dark hair on her head. She stirred then and opened her eyes just long enough for me to see that they were a deep blue. Then she closed them again.
    I glanced up. Claudia, Kristy, and Mary Anne looked enchanted.
    A few moments later, we were back downstairs, sitting in the living room, while Mrs. Newton opened the baby presents. She exclaimedover each one and commented on the original wrapping.
    â€œDo you think the hat will fit?” Mary Anne asked anxiously.
    â€œIn a few weeks it should be just right.”
    Mary Anne let out a sigh of relief.
    â€œMrs. Newton?” Kristy said. “Could I ask you something?”
    â€œOf course.”
    Suddenly, my stomach lurched. I had this horrible feeling I knew what Kristy was going to ask. I looked over at Claudia and found that she was already looking at me. Oh, no, her eyes seemed to be saying, I can’t believe she’s going to bring this up
now.
    But she did.
    â€œI’m not sure how to say this,” Kristy began, “but when Jamie was at our house last week, he said we wouldn’t be baby-sitting for him anymore. I mean, no—He said he heard you on the phone with Liz Lewis from the Baby-sitters Agency. Is—? Can we still—?” Kristy didn’t know how to finish what she had started.
    Mrs. Newton’s face was flushed with embarrassment. I was pretty sure mine was, too. It felt very hot.
    â€œI guess I should have told you,” said Mrs. Newton. “I knew how excited you were about the new baby. And of course you’ll always be our favorite sitters. It’s just that an infant is so delicate and fragile, and needs extra-special care—”
    â€œBut we’re responsible,” protested Kristy.
    â€œI’ve taken care of babies before,” I added.
    â€œNewborns?” asked Mrs. Newton.
    â€œWell, one was ten months and the other was eight months.”
    â€œThat makes a big difference,” she said. “There’s even a big difference between a three-month-old baby and a newborn. Anyway, what I was going to say is that for the next few months, I’ll simply feel more comfortable leaving Lucy with an older sitter. The times when I take Lucy with me and there’s just Jamie to sit for, I’ll be glad to use the Baby-sitters Club.”
    â€œI can understand that,” Claudia said slowly.
    â€œI’m glad you still want us to sit for Jamie,” said Kristy.
    â€œAnd when Lucy is older, I hope you’ll be my regular sitters again,” added Mrs. Newton.
    â€œOh, definitely!” I said, but I didn’t feel nearly as cheerful as I sounded. Nothing seemed to be going our way anymore.
    After school the next day, I met Janet and Leslie for the first time. They arrived promptly at five-thirty for our Wednesday meeting of the Baby-sitters Club.
    I studied them critically. Of course, they were already members of the club, but I couldn’t resist asking them a few questions.
    â€œHave you done a lot of baby-sitting?” I asked Janet.
    â€œOh, tons,” she replied. She was chewing a wad of gum and she cracked it loudly.
    â€œYou, too?” I asked Leslie.
    Leslie looked bored. She brushed her shaggy hair out of her face. I noticed that she was wearing makeup. A lot of it.
    â€œSure,” she replied. She glanced at Janet, and they exchanged tiny smiles.
    â€œWhere?” asked Mary Anne. I was surprised to see her jumping in, but I knew she was concerned about our reputation.
    â€œOver on the other side of town,” replied Janet.
(Crack, crack. Snap.)
“You probably wouldn’t know any of the