your ear off. Can you girls help me?"

"I'm sure we can," I said. "Would you please hold for a moment?"

"Of course."

I put my hand over the mouthpiece. Looking up, I noticed everyone staring at me with puzzled expressions. I must have been making faces into the phone. "Is something wrong?" Mary Anne asked.

I shook my head and told them what Mrs. Wilder wanted. (I was dying to describe her in detail, but she might have heard me.)

Mary Anne carefully checked the record book. "Tuesday, Thursday, Friday . . . hmm, well, for the next two weeks you're free all but one of those days, Claud," she said.

I took my hand away from the receiver. "You're all set, Mrs. Wilder," I said. "I'll be your sitter."

"Super!" she replied. "You don't happen to have an interest in dance or music, do you?"

"Uh, no ..." I replied, "but I'm sure — "

"Or science and math?" she asked. "Are you in one of those clubs at school?"

I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. "No. I'm mostly interested in art."

"Oh, an artist, a budding Georgia O'Keeffe," Mrs. Wilder said. "Yes, well, Rosie likes to draw a bit when she has a few moments. So!

I shall see you on Tuesday, then? Three-thirty on the nose? We live at 477 Elm Street, near Locust Avenue."

"Okay, see you then!" I said.

As soon as I hung up the phone, Stacey gave me a big grin and said, "Luckyyyyy ..."

"This is great, Claudia," Kristy added. "Three days a week, a new client . . . what was the mother like? She seemed to talk a lot."

"Yeah," I agreed. "She's . . . friendly."

"You should have seen the expression on your face," Jessi said. "You were giving her this look ..."

I smiled. "She has this funny kind of voice. Like actresses in those old black-and-white movies. Mahvelous, dahling — you know, like that. And she said the strangest thing, something about managing her daughter's career."