Little Miss Stoneybrook And Dawn Part 7

"What's wrong?" asked Claudia in a hushed voice.

"Jeff's going back to California. Not just for a visit. For real."

"Forever," said Mal, nodding her head, and I realized then that she probably did know the news. Jeff had told the triplets.

"Well, he's going back for six months. It's supposed to be a trial, but I have a feeling it'll turn into forever."

"Why?" asked Jessi, who didn't know too much about my family yet. "Who's he going to stay with?" She looked frightened, like she thought we were giving Jeff away or something.

"Oh, my father," I a.s.sured her. "And this is his choice. He's the one who wants to go. But, well, I just don't think we'll feel much like a family anymore."

Jessi nodded sympathetically.

"How did your dad get custody?" Kristy wanted to know.

I told them the whole story, from Ms. Besser's fateful phone call until right now. "Now" was Jeff's stuff slowly being packed away into trunks. It was my mom crying in her room at night. It was me crying in my room at night. It was all of us, even Jeff, feeling like we were going through the divorce again. And because of that, it was Mom clinging to me, as if to say, "Don't you go away, too."

Well, I wouldn't. That was the one thing she'd never have to worry about.

The meeting ended and we went home.

Chapter 11.

It was Friday, my last chance to work with the Pike girls. The next day was Sat.u.r.day - the pageant! But before that, that very night, Mom and I would put Jeff on a plane back to California. We weren't certain when we'd see him again.

I tried not to think about that. I threw myself into the last-minute preparations for the pageant instead.

"Now today," I told Claire and Margo just after I'd arrived, "we're going to have a dress rehearsal. Do you know what that is?"

The girls shook their heads.

"Okay. It's when we pretend you're actually in the pageant. We'll go through the whole thing. You'll pretend to meet the judges, be in the beauty parade and the talent show and everything, and you'll even change your clothes so you'll be wearing the right outfits at the right times. That's why it's called a dress rehearsal. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Great. Now the very first event," I said, referring to the information the pageant people had sent, "is the walk across the stage when you meet the judges. It's the first time the audience will see all you contestants. Now Claire, you'll be wearing your blue dress for that, and Margo, you'll be wearing your daisy dress."

"Please can I wear my bathing suit?" begged Margo.

"Absolutely not."

"How come?"

"Because no one else will be wearing a bathing suit. The judges want you guys all dressed up."

"Okay, okay."

"Now tomorrow," I said, thinking aloud, "we'll have to make sure you've got your complete outfits with you. We'll have to remember socks, shoes, slips, barrettes, everything you'll need." I hoped I could handle it. The pageant was beginning to seem like a huge job. There were times when I was sorry I'd taken it on. At least Mrs. Pike would be able to help me. She was going to help us before the pageant, and then drive us to the high school.

The girls put on their outfits and I led them down to the living room.

"What you'll have to do first thing is walk across the stage in the auditorium. All the judges except the head judge will be sitting in the first row of seats. The head judge will be on the stage. So what you do is walk toward the head judge. Remember to look at the audience and smile while you're walking. Before you get to the judge, say in a nice loud voice, 'My name is Claire Pike and I'm five years old.' Margo, you, of course, will say, 'My name is Margo Pike and I'm seven years old.' You'll curtsy and then shake her hand. Remember to use your right hand. That's the wrist.w.a.tch hand." (Claire can't tell time, but she always wears a watch on her right wrist.) "Anyway," I went on, "shake her hand and remember to keep smiling. When you're finished, walk the rest of the way across the stage.

"Now let's try it. I'll be the judge, and that's the audience over there." I pointed to the dining room.

In the middle of our rehearsal I heard the Pikes' phone ring. A few moments later, Mallory called to me, "Dawn, it's Mary Anne!"

"Hold on, you two," I told Claire and Margo. "I'll be right back."

I ran into the kitchen and took the receiver from Mallory. "h.e.l.lo?" I said. "Hi, Mary Anne. What's up?"

"Well, I was just wondering ... I guess, urn . . ."

"What were you wondering?" I asked impatiently.

"Um . . . um . . . How are the girls doing?"

"Fine. Are you with Myriah?"

"Yes."

I had a funny feeling that Mary Anne wasn't wondering anything except how Myriah's compet.i.tion was doing.

"Listen," I told her. "We're really busy. We're right in the middle of a dress rehearsal, so I gotta go."

"A dress rehearsal? Oh, great idea! Thanks, Dawn. 'Bye!"

Darn, I thought. I'd given something away. The pageant was getting entirely too compet.i.tive. It wasn't fun anymore.

I returned to Claire and Margo. Even though I knew that when you hold a dress rehearsal, you're supposed to go from the beginning to the end of a show without stopping, I decided that we'd have to work on each event a few times (except maybe for the talent part). The girls had forgotten to smile when they walked toward me, and Claire kept losing her balance when she curtsied.

"Okay, let's take it from the top," I said professionally. "Claire, you first."

Claire pranced across the living room toward me.

"Smile!" I hissed.

She put on a huge, silly grin.

"Not that much. A regular smile."

Claire toned her smile down and said, "I'm Claire Pike, I'm five years old, and I really want to win. I have seven brothers and sisters, a mommy - "

"Whoa, whoa! All you say is your name and age," I reminded her. Why, oh, why had I ever told Mrs. Pike I'd prepare the girls for the pageant?

The rehearsal continued. When the girls were tired of curtsying, I said, "Let's move on. The next part of the pageant is the talent compet.i.tion."

"Oh, goody!" said Margo. "My favorite part."

The girls ran upstairs and changed into their second outfits. I had to admit that those outfits were pretty cute. Mrs. Pike and I had taken the girls shopping one day and bought this adorable white sailor outfit and sailor cap for Claire to sing her Popeye song in. For Margo, we'd bought a pair of painter's pants in which we'd stuck a toy hammer, screwdriver, and paintbrush, to make her look as if she were Jack, the house-builder. Margo had wanted a monkey suit to go with her banana, but all the monkey suits had monkey feet, and I pointed out that Margo needed her feet free in order to peel her banana.

We returned to the living room.

"Okay," I said, "for this event, you wait backstage for the announcer to introduce you. When she's finished you walk to the middle of the stage - "

"Smiling?" interrupted Claire.

"The whole time," I told her. "I think there'll be an X marking the center of the stage. So you walk to the X and just do your number. When you're finished, the audience will start clapping." (I hope, I hope.) "Then you curtsy and walk off the stage in the other direction. Don't go back the way you came because the next contestant will be coming out from there and you'll run into her. Margo, why don't you go first this time. Oh, and since it's a dress rehearsal, use a real banana."

"What about the rug?" she asked as she ran to the kitchen for a banana.

"We'll risk it," I replied. "Okay. I'll be the announcer." I cleared my throat. "Our next contestant is the lovely and talented Margo Pike, age seven!" I cried.

Margo, banana in hand, walked to the middle of the room, smiling like a pro. She sat down, put the banana between her bare feet, and peeled it in record time. Then she stood up, smiled, bit the top off the banana, and said, "Thish ish the housh that Jack bit. Thish ish the . . ."

I wanted to put my hands over my ears, but I managed not to.

Margo was reciting the last stanza of the poem, when 1 glanced at the entrance to the living room and realized that we had an audience.

Claudia and Charlotte!

"Aughh!" I shrieked. "Claire, Margo - hide!"

But Margo wasn't stopping for anything. She was almost done. "... that milked the cow with the crumpled horn," she said frantically, "that tossed the dog, that worried the cat, that - "

I grabbed Margo by the arm, hauled Claire off the couch, where she'd been waiting for her turn to perform, and yanked both of them into the dining room, out of view.

"Stay there!" 1 ordered them.

I ran back to the living room. "What are you doing here?" I demanded of Claudia. "And how did you get inside?"

"Vanessa told us we could come in. She's playing in the front yard."

"Well, what do you want?"

"We just wanted to see how you were doing." Claudia sounded kind of meek.

"Oh, that's fine. You won't tell me what Charlotte's talent is, but you'll come over here to spy on us."

"We're not spying!" said Charlotte indignantly.

"Besides, everyone knows what Margo and Claire are doing," Claudia pointed out. "You said so yourself."

"You didn't know about their costumes, though." I paused thoughtfully. Then I said, "Charlotte, I'll bet you have a real nice costume."

"Oh, it's beautiful," she said. "Claudia and I made it. It's all - "

Claudia clapped her hand over Charlotte's mouth.

"Wmphh, wmphh, wmphh," Charlotte finished up.

"Pretty sneaky," Claudia said to me.

"So are you."

Claudia took her hand away from Charlotte's mouth.

"Are you going to have a fight?" Charlotte asked us worriedly.

Claudia and I looked at each other. "No, of course not," I said, relaxing a little. "I'm sorry I got so upset."

"And I'm sorry we came over and interrupted you," replied Claud. "I guess we were sort of spying. We'll get going now." Claudia looked as tired and as rattled as I felt.

"Okay," I said. "See you tomorrow. Good luck, Charlotte."

"Thanks," she said. "And good luck, Claire and Margo!" she yelled toward the dining room.

"Thanks!" the girls shouted back.

As soon as Claudia and Charlotte were gone, I called to Claire and Margo, and we got back to work. Margo started the poem over from the beginning, which nearly killed me, but I knew she wanted to rehea.r.s.e.

Then it was Claire's turn. She sang her song once through and then began a little dance I'd taught her. I'd made it up myself, but it looked sort of like the sailor's hornpipe. When she finished the dance, she sang the song again - with hand gestures. She demonstrated drop- ping dangly worms into her mouth and spitting out their germs. She made horrible faces. It was pretty funny. Maybe she'd win in a humor category or something.

I helped the girls change clothes once again - into their outfits for the beauty parade. These outfits were the most dressy, and the girls looked great. They were wearing velvet dresses. The dresses were old hand-me-downs from Mallory and Vanessa, I think, but they were in beautiful condition. Since they were actually Christmas dresses, Margo's was green and Claire's was red. Each had a lace collar.

The girls rehea.r.s.ed walking and smiling some more.

Then I said, "Okay, the very last event of the pageant will be questions, one for each girl. You'll stay in these outfits for that part. Now start thinking about nice, good, helpful things, and I'll ask you some questions. Okay?"

"Okay." The girls were sitting side by side on the living room couch. They looked tired, but determined. I hoped they could hold up during the pageant. The next day would be a long one.

"Margo," I said, "What is your greatest wish?"

"Global peace," she replied immediately.

"Yes, but say it in a nice sentence."

"My greatest wish," Margo said, looking rapturous and angelic, "is for global peace. That would be very . . . nice."

I only hoped the judge wouldn't ask her to explain what she meant. Margo didn't have the vaguest idea what global peace was.

"Great," I told her. "Now Claire, if the house were on fire and you had time to rescue three things, what would they be?"