Little Miss Stoneybrook...and Dawn (9 page)

“Why isn't she the
grand
winner?” she wailed.

But everyone quieted down as the announcer went on, “And now, folks, the moment you've been waiting for.” (Someone handed Mrs. Peabody a small crown and a bouquet of roses.) “I am happy to announce that our very own Little Miss Stoneybrook is … Sabrina Bouvier!”

The audience burst into applause, music began to play, and Sabrina was crowned. Photographers took her picture.

Mrs. Bouvier cried.

It was really disgusting.

My friends and I held a vehement, tortured conversation.

“Sabrina! How
could
they?!” exclaimed Kristy. “Myriah should have won.”

“Told you,” said Claudia knowingly. “Sabrina's a pageant-head. That's how these things work.”

Our conversation came to an abrupt end as the contestants straggled backstage. As you can imagine, most of them were not very happy. In fact, Margo and Karen were in tears. They were both crying so hard they couldn't speak. When Margo dried her eyes and nose on the hem of her velvet dress, I didn't scold her. I just knelt down, took her in my arms and held her, letting her cry for as long as she needed to.

Nearby, Kristy was doing the same with Karen.

After a long time, Margo gulped and sniffled and said, “I tried my hardest, Dawn, honest.”

“I know you did.”

“And we're proud of you,” added a voice.

Margo and I looked up. There were Mr. and Mrs. Pike and Mallory.

“Why are you proud of me?” asked Margo.

I glanced at Mallory, who gave me a look that said, See what beauty pageants can cause?

I shrugged. What else could I do? Claire and Margo had
wanted
to be in the pageant. It was their idea. This wasn't like Charlotte, who'd had mixed feelings about being in it.

“We're proud of you, honey,” said Mr. Pike, leaning over and cupping Margo's chin in his hands, “because you were very, very brave to go out there on that stage in front of so many people.
That took real courage. And you rehearsed hard. Both you and Claire did. We're proud of you for that, too.”

I turned away. I had no idea Margo would take losing so hard, but I guess I should have known.

I left her with her parents and looked around for Claire. I saw her talking to Myriah, Mary Anne, and Mr. and Mrs. Perkins. Claire didn't look upset at all. I guess different kids react different ways to the same experiences. Karen was still crying against Kristy's shoulder.

I joined Claire and Mary Anne and the Perkinses. I reached them just in time to hear Mary Anne say (again), “Myriah should have won the grand prize.”

“But then I wouldn't have won the toys!” exclaimed Myriah, looking amazed.

Something occurred to me then. It was all about the unfairness of the pageant. Mary Anne was absolutely right. Myriah really should have won — if this pageant was honestly based on people's talents and character. But it wasn't. I was glad that because Myriah had been given such a terrific prize, she wasn't disappointed about not winning the grand prize. But I was sorry that she had to settle (even happily) for second best.

Mallory wandered over to us then, followed by Jessi, who I guess had been in the audience.

“Don't say it,” I said to them. “I know. We all should have listened to you guys on the day the newspaper article came out.”

“Well …” said Mal, and I could tell that she and Jessi were just dying to gloat.

“I only want to say one thing,” Jessi spoke up. “And I promise it isn't ‘I told you so.' I want to say that now maybe it's clear how silly pageants are. I mean, look who won … and look who
should
have won.”

“I know, I know, I know,” I said testily. “I was thinking the same thing. I don't know what this pageant judged, but it sure wasn't talent and character.”

“It was fake personality,” Mallory pronounced.

I had to agree with her.

“Dawn?” said Claire. “Can I be in the pageant again next year?”

I nearly passed out. It was time to join the rest of the Pikes — quick! — and get home.

It took everyone — especially Charlotte — quite a while to get over the pageant. After all, Charlotte was the one who had run away in tears and had to be taken home.

Us baby-sitters discussed the pageant endlessly. The six of us sat around in Claudia's room most of Sunday afternoon. After we talked about how Mal and Jessi had been right, and the pageant wasn't fair and all that, Claudia (who looked a little teary-eyed) said, “I did a terrible thing.”

“What?”
asked the rest of us.

“I
forced
Charlotte into the pageant. I've apologized four times to her and her parents and they're being really nice about it, but I still feel awful.”

“Well, you didn't actually
force
her into the pageant,” Mary Anne pointed out. “You didn't pick her up and carry her kicking and screaming onto the stage.”

“No,” agreed Claudia, “but I did have to talk her into it.”

“Well, I kind of did the same thing with Myriah,” Mary Anne replied.

“And I kind of did the same thing with Karen,” added Kristy. “They both
wanted
to be in the pageant, but we brought the subject up, hoping that that would happen…. And all so we could prove what good sitters we are. Pretty dumb. We
know
we're good sitters or we wouldn't have this great club!”

The rest of us laughed. But we couldn't forget the pageant. Not easily.

First an article about it and a picture of Sabrina, Myriah, and Lisa appeared in the paper. Then Myriah had her shopping spree at Toy City, and an article about
that
appeared in the paper. Then the town gave Sabrina a parade. (I don't know anyone who went to it, but another article appeared in the paper.)

I was sitting at home one evening, reading the latest article, when the phone rang. “I'll get it!” I called to Mom. I was waiting for Mary Anne to call me when she got home from the movies.

“Hello?” I said.

The voice on the other end wasn't Mary Anne's. It was Jeff's!

“Hi!” I cried. He and Dad had called twice before and spoken to Mom, but I'd been out both times. “How are you?”

“Good,” replied Jeff. “Great. How are you?”

“I'm fine. Tell me what's going on. How's Dad? How's California?”

“Dad's fine, but California may not be. We had a little earthquake this afternoon.”

“Whoa. Too bad. But tell me about yourself. How are you really?”

“I'm really fine. I like school. I haven't been in a single fight.”

“Do you like the housekeeper Dad found?”

“Sure. She's all right. Sometimes she's kind of strict, but she's a good cook. Guess what. Most of my old friends are in my class at school. And they're all on the soccer team, so I might join the soccer team.”

“And how about you and Dad? How are you getting along?”

“The bachelor life?” teased Jeff. “It's great. We went to a football game. And Dad helps me with my math.” (Two things Mom and I had never done with my brother.) “Mostly I just like being someplace where everything is familiar. I feel like I was never in Stoneybrook. Kind of like it was just a weird, bad dream.”

“Thanks a lot!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Lucky for you.”

“Hey, Dawn? Dad wants to say hi. And then I want to talk to Mom, okay?”

“Okay…. Hi, Dad.'”

“Hi, Sunshine.” (Sunshine was Dad's baby name for me. If any of my friends ever heard about it … well, I don't even want to
think
what they'd say.) “How's my girl?”

“Fine. I miss you. So does Mom.” (I wasn't sure she did, but it couldn't hurt to say so.)

I talked to Dad for a few minutes, then he talked to Mom, then Mom talked to Jeff, and finally Jeff asked to talk to me again.

“Dawn?” he said. “I just want to tell you something. Um, I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I replied, choking on the words.

“Bye, Dawn.”

“Bye, Jeff.”

We hung up.

“Want to make some popcorn, honey?” asked Mom, seeing my teary eyes.

“Sure,” I answered.

When it was ready, we sat on the living room couch with the bowl between us.

“You know what?” I said to Mom. “That was the old Jeff on the phone. The Jeff I knew before we left California. He does seem happier there.”

“He
is
happier,” Mom agreed. “Letting him go may have been the toughest thing we ever did, but it was the right thing.”

“I know,” I said, and sighed.

“I don't want to lecture,” said Mom.

“But?” I prompted her, and we laughed.

“But,” she went on, “most of the best things in life
are
tough — tough to work out, or tough to achieve. If they weren't, we wouldn't appreciate them so much.”

“Yeah,” I agreed slowly.

The phone rang again then. “Oh, that's Mary Anne!” I said. “I'll be right back. I won't stay on long.” I dashed into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and said, “Hi, Mary Anne! … Oh, sorry…. Claire?”

It was Claire Pike. She'd never called me before.

“Guess what?” she cried. “There's going to be a Beautiful Child contest at Bellair's Department Store. The winner will get to model clothes in a big fashion show at the store. Mom said I could enter — if you'll help me. Will you? Will you, Dawn?”

Oh,
no
! I thought.

“Dawn?”

“I'm here.”

“The winner gets a camera, too. And a supply of Turtle Wax, whatever that is.”

I paused. At last I said, “Okay, Claire. Tell me what we have to do.”

Here we go again!