There were Stacey and Claudia. Stacey was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at her hands. Claudia was seated stiffly in her director's chair, gazing out the window. Neither one spoke when I entered the room.

Rememt»ering what had happened at Kristy's house that morning, I decided not to be the one to make the first move. I sat down tentatively on the floor.

The phone rang. Claudia was nearest to it, so she took the call. "Hello, the Baby-sitters Club. . . . Oh, hi. ... Saturday morning? . . . Okay . . . okay. I'll call you right back. . . . Good-bye."

Finally, I thought. Now someone will have to say something.

Claudia hung up the phone. "The Johans-sens. They need someone for Charlotte on Saturday morning. Who's free?"

"I am," said Stacey to her hands.

"Mary Anne?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not, either," said Claudia. "I guess it's yours, Stacey."

"Fine." Stacey managed to look pleased through her anger. Charlotte is her favorite kid.

"What about Kristy?" I asked.

"She's not here," said Claudia shortly. "And she knows the rules. She made the rules. If she doesn't phone to tell us she'll be late or she can't make it, then she misses out on jobs. I'll call Dr. Johanssen and tell her that she — " Claudia shot a dirty look at Stacey "— will be baby-sitting." When she turned to dial the phone, Stacey stuck her tongue out at her.

Claudia finished the call and hung up. No one saifl a word.

A few minutes later, the phone rang again. When it was on its third ring, Claudia said, "Somebody else get it this time. I'm not a slave."

I answered it. "Hello? . . . Oh, hi, Mrs. Thomas. Is Kristy sick or something? . . . She's where? . . . Oh. No, it's not important. . . . For David Michael? Sure, I'll call you right back." I hung up. "Kristy," I said, in case anybody was interested, "is over at the Shil-labers' house, and Mrs. Thomas needs someone to watch David Michael on Thursday afternoon. . . . I'm free."