“Of course, we would be thrilled to babysit both of your children, and their turtle,” Malia said into her phone, while giving Dot and Bree an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
The girls had called a very necessary meeting of the Best Babysitters Club, since business had exploded in the wake of their Seaside takedown. Malia’s phone was ringing off the hook, and all sorts of jobs kept falling into their laps.
“That’s officially the third gig we’ve booked today!” announced Malia as soon as she hung up.
Bree, perched in her usual spot atop Dot’s bedspread, uncapped a marker and darkened in another unit on their (very sparkly) new earnings chart. Dot had insisted upon creating a revised, Taylor Swift–free poster to track their progress, but that hadn’t stopped Bree from attacking it with glitter. Little puffs of sparkles flew off the poster as Bree colored it in.
The updated chart had two columns: one for tracking money they’d actually made, and another for keeping track of their projected earnings. So far, the girls hadn’t gotten paid since the job they stole from Chelsea, so their actual earnings column remained nearly empty. But their projected earnings column was (literally) off the chart. After the Larsson family reunion job, they would have enough money to secure the venue, and after the rest of their new bookings, they would have enough cash to throw the party of their dreams.
“We could have a chocolate fountain, maybe,” Bree said. “Like the one at Sheila’s party. Today at breakfast, Marc said he would help get us one. He might not have been listening, but still, he agreed.” Bree had consistently been mentioning the party at their family breakfasts and had yet to hear her parents agree to anything specific. However, she had also never heard them say no, which she thought counted for a lot.
“We also have to decide which of the Marvelous Ray’s add-on packages we want,” Malia rattled on. “Option one is fake tattoos, which is kind of universally appealing. They also have an accessories package, with funny hats and pins and glow sticks and stuff. Or we could do a candy bar?”
“But if we already have a chocolate fountain, that’s maybe a lot of sugar,” said Bree. She didn’t really know how much sugar was too much sugar, but her stepsister, Ariana, liked to say that everything had too much sugar. Bree could only imagine how Ariana would react to a chocolate fountain and a candy bar.
“No such thing as too much sugar,” countered Dot. “This is a party, after all. But we do want variety. So let’s make a mental note to load up on savory snacks, too.”
“Connor Kelly loves mozzarella sticks,” Malia announced. “After many days of observation, I’ve noted it’s his most-ordered item from the school cafeteria.”
“That is mildly disturbing,” Dot replied. “Also, this isn’t Connor’s party.”
“Well, I also love mozzarella sticks, and it is my party, so we should definitely have them,” concluded Malia. Then she grew silent as she stared off into the distance. Her friends watched her, confused. Surely Malia couldn’t be that mesmerized with Dot’s vintage concert posters.
“Hello? Malia? Where are you?” Dot asked, clapping her hands.
“Oh! Sorry.” Malia snapped back to attention. “I was briefly entertaining a fantasy in which Connor and I attempt to dunk our mozzarella sticks into the communal bowl of marinara sauce at the exact same time.”
“Okay, and . . . ?” Bree trailed off, confused.
“We turn our gaze from the sauce bowl to see who else possesses the same level of enthusiasm about mozzarella sticks. Our eyes meet. Electricity.” Once again, her face took on that faraway look.
“Wow,” Dot said. “Okay, so besides fried cheese, what are our nonnegotiables?” Dot asked. “Like, what are the things we absolutely must have?”
“Thank you for the vocabulary lesson. For your information, I already knew what a nonnegotiable was,” teased Malia.
“They say you teach what you most need to learn,” said Dot, with a shrug. She wasn’t sure what it meant, entirely, but it was something her mom’s yoga friends liked to say, and it seemed to apply here.
“We need a theme!” said Bree, who hadn’t heard of a nonnegotiable until that moment.
“Not cats,” Malia and Dot said in unison.
“Taylor Swift?” Bree tried.
“No,” Dot said.
“I’m out of ideas, then.” Bree shrugged.
“I like party planning as much as you guys, and I hate to be the voice of reason, but should we maybe use this time to go over our game plan for the job at the Larssons’ this weekend?” Dot suggested.
“How about we work on the Kid-Kits? That’s productive,” said Malia.
She began taking all sorts of craft items and random odds and ends out of a trio of plastic shopping bags, and spread the items all over on the floor. The other girls joined her, sorting the various items into organized piles.
“Kid-Kits” were an idea they had borrowed (ah-hem, stolen) from the Baby-Sitters Club books. Kid-Kits were just little boxes filled with craft materials, like markers and stickers, along with playing cards and little toys they’d found for next to nothing at the local craft store. The girls planned to debut the kits at the Larsson family reunion, where they would hopefully help to occupy the massive amount of children. Given what they were getting paid for the Larsson job, having these extra materials on hand seemed like a very worthy investment.
“You know, things have really changed since the Baby-Sitters Club members came up with this whole Kid-Kit idea. Like, most of our babysitting charges are more than content to stare at some kind of electronic device,” said Dot.
“So?” asked Bree.
“So the idea of wooing children with markers and glue seems remarkably optimistic,” Dot concluded.
“But think about all the ways we had fun when we were that age,” said Malia.
“Or even all the ways we have fun now,” said Bree.
“I guess, but that’s more about just being together,” said Dot.
“Yeah, like, we could all be locked in a room without anything to do, and we’d still find a way to have fun,” said Malia.
“I have to say, I’m so happy that everything worked out in our favor,” said Dot. “We deserve this.” Her friends nodded in agreement. “So how are we feeling about the Larsson job?”
“We are feeling so ready,” Malia confirmed. “We’ve been through this, like, a million times.”
“We know what we’re doing!” Bree chimed. “And I already made the matching shirts.” They had decided to wear matching T-shirts to the Larssons’, sort of like camp counselors, to make them look more official. Of course, no one else had actually seen the shirts except for Bree. She was keeping them under wraps for as long as possible, since they were covered in glitter.
“I’m really excited, you guys!” Bree said as Malia’s phone started ringing once again.
“There’s so much to look forward to!” Bree continued. “The Larsson job, and then my birthday, and then the fall break, and then the party!” She clapped her hands, as was her way. She truly couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more excited.