Claudia And The Terrible Truth (2 page)

    "What kind of work does your dad do?" I asked Joey.
    "He used to work for a computer company,” Joey answered. He didn't seem to want to say any more about it than that. "Can we please have our snack now?" he asked.
    "Sure," I said. "Cookies, here we come!" "You better take your shoes off first," said Nate.
    I raised my eyebrows.
    "He's right," said Joey. "It's so we don't track in mud."

   "But there's no mud — " I began. Then I stopped. If that was the house rule, it wasn't my business to question it. I untied my Pumas (totally hip '70s-type sneakers — very cool at SMS) and left them with the other shoes lined up in the front hall.
    The kitchen was spotless. Four high-backed wooden chairs sat around a square wooden table, each chair pushed in perfectly straight. The counters were wiped clean, and canisters, for coffee, tea, sugar, and flour were lined up like little soldiers. There wasn't a single dish in the gleaming sink, and I didn't see a single fingerprint on the door of the fridge. I looked around, amazed. I'd never seen a kitchen so tidy, especially in a house with two boys.
    "Dad likes a clean kitchen," Joey explained, as if he'd read my mind. He pointed to a cabinet over the fridge. "The cookies are up there." I opened the cabinet door to see a neatly arranged row of cereals, crackers, and cookies. I reached up and took out a bag of Chips Ahoy. Then I found a plate in another cabinet (do I have to mention how perfectly stacked the china was?) and put a few cookies onto it. "Milk?" I asked the boys.
    They exchanged a look. "No, thanks," said Joey, speaking for both of them.
    I shrugged. "Okay." I pulled out a chair and sat down. They did too. We each took a cookie, and the boys sat quietly, nibbling at theirs.
    I studied the boys. Joey was thin, with dark brown hair. His eyes were big and green and worried-looking. He reminded me of some kind of shy animal, maybe a deer. Nate was chunkier, though he was still shorter than his older brother. He had big brown eyes, and brown hair with blond highlights, like his dad's. I remembered meeting Mrs. Nicholls at the library. She was a birdlike woman with chin-length blonde hair and green eyes.
    I helped myself to another cookie and offered the plate to Joey and Nate. They shook their heads. "Oops," I said, remembering. "That's right. Your dad said one each." I shoved the plate aside.
    The boys were a little shy, but they seemed friendly enough. Being new in town, maybe they needed a little help meeting people. Suddenly I had a great idea. "Hey, you know what?" I asked. "My friend Stacey is babysitting right next door, for Stephen Stanton-Cha. He hasn't lived here for very long. I bet he's thrilled to have you two for new neighbors!
    "We met Stephen already," said Joey. "He's really nice. And he has tons of cool toys and stuff." For the first time, I saw his eyes really light up with interest.
    "He's cool," agreed Nate.
    "So, why don't we hang out over there for awhile?" I asked. "I know Stacey and Stephen would be glad to have us." Nate looked excited. "Can we really go?" he asked.
    "Sure, why not?" I answered.
    "I don't know," said Joey, shaking his head. "We're not supposed to leave the house unless Mom or Dad is with us." "Oh, right," said Nate. The excitement had gone out of his voice.
    "But I'm the baby-sitter," I said. 'And I would be going with you." Joey looked unsure. "It's okay, really," I promised. "I've taken care of plenty of kids, and none of their parents ever minded if I took them to play with other kids, as long as we were home on time." "Let's go, Joey. Please?" begged Nate.
    "I'll leave a note for your parents," I said. "We always do that anyway. Your mom will probably be home at a little after five. I don't know when your dad's coming home, but it won't be for awhile." My reassurances must have worked, because finally Joey agreed. "Okay, but we're not going to stay too long," he said.
    "Great," I said, jumping up to give Stacey a call. "I'll just make sure they're around." As I headed for the phone on the wall I noticed Joey and Nate standing up and pushing their chairs in carefully. Nate even pushed mine in, making sure the placement was exactly right. And Joey rinsed off the plate we'd used and stuck it into the dishwasher.
    I made the call and wrote the note, and we were on our way.
    As I'd guessed, Stephen (who's seven, like Joey) was happy to see us. The three boys were soon playing happily with Stephen's new computer game while Stacey and I hung out and watched.
    "They're cute kids," Stacey whispered to me.
    I nodded. "I think they'll fit in here just fine," I said.
    Just then, Joey stood up and ran to the window. "I thought I heard a car," he explained after he'd looked outside. "But I guess it wasn't Dad." "Even if it was," I said, "he'd know where to find you." That didn't seem to reassure Joey. He kept popping up to look out the window every few minutes, and soon Nate was doing the same.
    Stacey and I exchanged glances. "What if we invite Stephen over to your house?" I suggested. Maybe the boys would feel more comfortable at home.
    "No!" said Nate.
    "We're not supposed to invite people over," explained Joey.
    "Maybe next time, when you've had the chance to ask your parents first," I suggested. "Meanwhile, why don't you try to relax and enjoy yourselves today?" That helped for about five minutes. Then Mrs. Stanton-Cha came home, and at the sound of her car in the driveway both boys jumped up like jack-in-the-boxes.
    "I guess it's time we headed home," I told them. Obviously they weren't going to relax.
    When we returned to the Nichollses', both boys still' seemed jumpy. I saw Joey find the note I'd left. He crumpled it up and threw it out. Then he put the pen I'd used in precisely the same place I'd taken it from, near the phone. After that, he and Nate sat down at the kitchen table to wait for their parents' return.
    Mrs. Nicholls was the first one home. She came into the kitchen looking tired, but her eyes lit up when she saw the boys. "Hi, sweeties," she said. "Did you have fun with Claudia?" "I think they did," I said, rushing to confess. It was as if the boys' nervousness was contagious. "We went over to the Stanton-Chas', next door. My friend Stacey was there, sitting for Stephen. I hope that was all right." Mrs. Nicholls didn't seem upset. "That sounds nice. Why don't you boys say good-bye to Claudia and then run along and do your work?" she suggested.
    Once Nate and Joey had left the room, Mrs. Nicholls paid me. "Taking the boys next door is fine with me, as long as it was okay with their father," she said, giving me a questioning look.
    'Actually," I said, "I didn't think to ask him." I noticed that Mrs. Nicholls looked pale. She bit her lip. Then she smiled. "I'm sure it's fine," she said, as if she were trying to convince herself instead of me. 'Anyway, what he doesn't know won't hurt anyone," she added under her breath.
    What was that supposed to mean? I was about to ask, but the kitchen clock caught my eye. "Oh, my lord," I gasped. "I better run, or I'll be late for my meeting." I said good-bye and ran out the door. My first job with the Nicholls boys had gone well, except for the slightly uneasy feeling I had as I left their house. l Chapter 4.
    For the next couple of days, I forgot about the Nichollses. I have to admit I didn't think once about Joey or Nate. Why? Because I was too busy playing with Lynn. Every day after school I would race to the library. My mom was taking Lynn to work with her each day, where one of the assistants in the children's room was glad to keep an eye on her. I would run to find Lynn, then wrap her up in her quilted pink baby-bag. I'd carry her outside and pop her into her stroller. We'd wave bye-bye to my mom (I had to help Lynn with that) and head on home.
    I'd prop Lynn in her infant seat while I had a snack, then carry her up to my room and spend the rest of the afternoon snuggling and playing with her on the bed. My baby cousin, a box of Junior Mints, and a Nancy Drew mystery I was reading for the fourth time: I was in heaven. Homework could wait for later, when my parents and Janine insisted on having their turns with Lynn. By Wednesday, when my friends arrived for the BSC meeting, I'd made a lot of progress teaching Lynn to say my name.
    "Show them how you say my name," I told Lynn when everybody was there. "Say 'Claudia,’" "K-K-gug,” Lynn sputtered.
    "See?" I said proudly.
    "She said 'Gug,’ " Kristy pointed out.
    "So? That's how she says my name. She's only a baby, you know." Kristy opened her mouth to answer, and that's when the phone rang. It was Mrs. Nicholls, calling to ask, first, if I could be Joey and Mate's regular sitter, and second, if I was free for a job the following afternoon. I said yes to both, after checking with the other members of the BSC. That's when I started thinking about Nate and Joey. I remembered how uncomfortable they'd seemed while playirig at Stephen's, so I decided to bring my Kid-Kit the next day and see if they'd have a better time playing at home.
    The next afternoon, Mr. Nicholls answered the door again when I arrived. He was wearing the same blue suit, .and he left as quickly as he had before — after giving the boys the same lecture about behaving.
    "I brought something special to show you guys today,” I told Joey and Nate once we were alone.
    "Is it a puppy?" asked Nate.
    I laughed. "Uh, no,” I said.
    "He really wants a puppy," Joey explained.
    "I would take good care of it and always be nice to it," Nate said eagerly.
    "Well, maybe someday you'll have a puppy," I said. Joey and Nate both looked doubtful. 'Anyway," I went on, "what I brought today isn't a puppy. It's this." I brought my Kid-Kit out from behind my back. "Ta-da!" I said. The boys looked at the box, which I had just finished redecorating with pictures cut out from a nature magazine. The best one was of a charging elephant.
    "What is it?" asked Joey.
    'Are there lions inside?" Nate asked, edging away from the box.
    "Nope," I said, opening it up. "Just toys. And books. And games and stickers and markers and all kinds of good stuff." "Excellent!" cried Joey. "Can we see it all?" "Definitely." We were in the living room, and I poured the contents of the box onto the rug, which made Joey look nervous. "Don't worry," I said. "Well clean it all up before your parents come home. I just wanted you to see everything." At that, Joey and Nate seemed to forget their worries. They started going through the pile, exclaiming over each "find." "Check it out!" cried Nate, holding up a Star Wars figure. "It's See-Threepio." "Can I read this?" asked Joey, picking out an old Encyclopedia Brown book.
    The boys had a blast going through my Kid-Kit. Finally, we settled down to play a game of checkers, me against both boys. Joey was a good player, and before long the boys' team was way ahead. Then Nate started whispering to Joey — I could have sworn he said something like "Better let her win" — and soon after that the game turned around and I ended up with about eight "kings" in five minutes.
    After I won, the boys rummaged through the books and games again. Nate picked up a dogeared, ancient copy of The Runaway Bunny and began to look through the pages, while Joey chose some markers. "Do you have any paper?" I asked him.
    "There's some in the desk over there," he said, "but I'm not sure — " "It's just paper," I said, interrupting him. "Nobody's going to be upset if we take one piece." We went to the desk together, and Joey showed me which drawer to open. I pulled out a sheet of plain paper, noticing that Joey was busy rearranging a small bowl of paper clips I'd nudged out of place. He put it back in its original spot, very carefully. I realized that Mr. Nicholls must like a tidy desk as much as he liked a tidy kitchen.
    "Oh, no!" Nate suddenly cried. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" "What is it?" I asked, rushing to him to see what was wrong.
    He looked up at me and I saw fear in his eyes. "I — I tore your book," he said, showing me a page with a tiny tear in it. "I'll buy you a new one as soon as I can save up my allowance, I promise. Please, I'm really sorry." He truly seemed to think I'd be furious with him for making a small tear in an old book. I reached out to pat his shoulder, and he jerked back. "Nate," I said, pulling my hand away and speaking ,as gently as I could. "It's really all right. That book is so old it would be hard not to tear the pages while you read it. I am not mad at all." What was going on here? Had the boys had some terrible experience with a baby-sitter? Or was it me? Maybe I had done something to upset them. I watched the boys as they returned — carefully — to reading and drawing. I couldn't figure out what was making them so nervous.
    "How about a snack?" I asked finally. 'Are you two hungry?" Nate nodded. So did Joey. They followed me into the kitchen. I opened the cupboard over the fridge and began to pull down boxes.
    "Not those crackers," said Joey, "We're not allowed to have those." "We can't have those cookies either,” Nate said, pointing to a bag. "Those are for Dad." "Okay," I said. "How about some fruit?" A bowl full of apples, pears, and oranges was on the counter.
    "That's for after dinner," Joey said. "But we could have some carrots or celery." Finally I'd found something they could eat. But celery didn't sound too exciting. Unless — "Do you have any peanut butter?" I asked.
    Nate pointed to another cabinet next to the fridge. "It’s in there," he said.
    'And is it okay to use some?" I asked.
    The boys looked at each other. Then they nodded. "I think it's okay," said Joey.
    "Great," I said. I found a knife and began spreading peanut butter onto celery sticks. Just as I'd finished the first one, the doorbell rang. I put down the knife, wiped my hands on a paper towel, and ran for the door with Joey and Nate trailing behind me.
    I opened the door to find Mr. Nicholls standing there, looking a little sheepish. "I forgot my keys," he explained. He came in and looked the boys over. "Have you been good this afternoon?" he asked.
    Joey and Nate nodded. Mr. Nicholls looked at me, and I found myself nodding too. "They're always good," I said.
    "That's what I like to hear,” said Mr. Nicholls over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. He was taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he walked.
    The boys and I went into the living room to put the toys and things back into my Kid-Kit. I was just dropping the last of the markers into their box when I sensed someone in the doorway. I looked, up to see Mr. Nicholls standing there, holding the jar of peanut butter. I'd forgotten about our snack. It had seemed more important to clean up the living room.
    "Who left this open on the counter?" he asked in a very quiet voice.
    For a second, nobody answered. "I said, who left the peanut butter open on the counter?" Now his voice was much louder.