"Sure," she said. "Dad and I are going to

be in the living room, watching a movie. You can use the phone in the kitchen."

I did want to ask Mal about Becca, but I was also dying to tell her what had happened that night. I knew she'd be fascinated. I dashed into the kitchen, grabbed the phone and dialed quickly. Mal answered. "It’s me!" I cried, knowing she'd know who "me" was.

"Jessi!" she said. (See?) "How's New York?"

"You won't believe what happened," I replied. "But first, tell me how Becca's doing."

"Wellll. . . not so great, actually. She's having a tough time." Mal sounded pretty serious, so I sat down and got ready to listen. My news would have to wait.

Chapter 6.

Mal had reason to sound a little overwhelmed. She might have been exaggerating just a tiny bit — I mean, "calamitously?" — but from what I heard, Becca was quite a handful.

When I called her that night, she sounded as if she were about ready to hand in her Babysitter's License.

"Jessi," she said, "you know you're my best friend. And you know I love your family. But your little sister can be a — "

"A real pain," I said. "I know. I love her too, but I had a feeling this weekend wasn't going to be easy for you."

"I really feel sorry for her," said Mal. "I mean, she does feel awful and lonely and abandoned. But what can I do? I've made everything as nice as possible for her, but I can't make you and your family appear out of thin air."

"I know," I said. "But we'll be back soon. I guess that's what you have to keep telling her."

"It doesn't do any good," said Mallory, sighing. "She wouldn't eat dinner tonight, and she wouldn't play with the other kids after dinner, and now she says she can't sleep."

"No dinner?" I asked. I was surprised. Becca usually has a good appetite.