“They’re here!” I shouted on Saturday morning. “Peaches and Russ are here!”

I watched their green Volvo station wagon creep up the street. I think Russ was driving slowly because it was packed to the brim. Bedspreads, suitcases, and boxes filled the rear of the car and several more boxes were tied onto the roof.

Honk! Honk!

Russ hit the horn as they pulled into our driveway. Peaches was out of the car before he’d even turned off the engine. She waved her arms and called, “Don’t panic! We’re only staying a month. Pillows take up a lot of space, and those boxes are filled with my office supplies.”

I giggled and gave Peaches a gentle hug. I was afraid to squeeze her too hard because of the baby but Peaches didn’t seem to be concerned. She swooped me into a tight hug. Then Russ wrapped his arms around the two of us. (Russ and Peaches never miss a chance to hug people. That’s one of the best things about them.)

“Hey, Claud,” Russ said. “Would you mind helping me unload?”

I shrugged. “That’s why I’m here. Hand me a couple of boxes.”

Peaches started to reach for a suitcase in the backseat but Russ leaped in front of her, barring the car door. “No way, little mother. You can carry your purse or the pillows, and maybe a small blanket, but that’s it. Doctor’s orders.”

Peaches rolled her eyes at me. “The doctor happened to mention to Russ that I should be careful to not lift anything heavy, like a piano or a bus. Now Russ won’t leave me alone. This morning he snatched a gallon of milk out of my hands and said, ‘That’s it. From here on out, we’re buying half pints.’ ”

I thought it was awfully sweet that Russ was so concerned. But I could see how it might bug Peaches, who is very independent and likes to do everything herself.

It took a little while to get all of the boxes and suitcases out of the car. I helped Peaches hang up their clothes in the downstairs closet while Dad and Russ moved the office supplies into the garage.

“You two are so great,” Peaches cooed when she saw the fresh flowers Janine and I had picked that morning and set in a vase beside their bed. “I’m going to love staying here. It’ll be like one big slumber party.”

“Lunchtime,” Mom called from the kitchen. She sounded calm, but I knew that two hours earlier she had been in a complete tizzy over what to serve for the meal. “We need to eat foods high in iron and protein for the baby and for Peaches,” she’d declared, frantically thumbing through her recipe file.

Three cookbooks and one mad dash to the grocery store later, she was serving up a very healthy (and, okay, I’ll admit it, delicious) lunch of spinach salad, fresh tomato soup, and melon slices.

“That was simply scrumptious,” Peaches said as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. I would have just sent out for a pizza.”

Mom thanked her, adding, “I want to make sure you have the best diet for a mother-to-be.”

“And speaking of mothers and babies, and all of those wonderful subjects,” Peaches said, looking around the table with a grin. “Who would like to go shopping with me? I’m in the mood to buy baby furniture.”

My hand shot up into the air. “Take me. Oh, please take me!”

Peaches pulled a shopping list out of her pocket and held it up for us to see. “Russ and I pored over issue after issue of Consumer Reports to find the most recommended baby items and, after many late nights, we finally came up with the definitive shopping list. We’ve even talked to a few stores, who said they’d hold our purchases until we can move into our house.”

“Did you call Baby and Company?” I asked.

Peaches grinned. “They were first on my list.”

After helping Mom with the dishes, Peaches and I headed downtown to Baby and Company. It’s my favorite baby store, completely devoted to baby clothes and furniture. Karen Brewer once called it a baby museum. And she’s right. If it has anything at all to do with babies, they have it.

Peaches and I spent a full two hours in there. By the time we finished, I was exhausted, not from the actual shopping but from going, “Oooh, look! Isn’t this darling!” every two seconds. We stared ohh!-ing and ah!-ing before we even made it through the door. The window display was a little bedroom decorated to look like a baby animal jungle, including a huge stuffed giraffe. It was adorable.

“Let’s start with the big things,” Peaches said, reading from her list. “Crib, changing table, rocker, baby swing, and infant car seat.”

The crib we chose was painted white, with graceful arches at each end and drawers along the bottom, beneath the mattress. Each crib had a girl’s name. This one was called a Mary Catherine. (I think it was the most expensive one in the store.) So, naturally, Peaches had to choose the Mary Catherine glider rocker and Mary Catherine changing table to match.

Of course, while we were picking cribs and rockers we had to pick out crib bumpers, sheets, the bed ruffle, and matching rocker cushions. We thumbed through catalogue after catalogue of designer baby things. Eventually, Peaches picked out a pattern of pastel bears holding hands (or I guess I should say, paws), surrounded by stars, rainbows, and soft pink clouds. The bears were pink and blue and lime green and peach, and wore jackets and hats. There was even a little bear mobile to match the sheets and comforter.

I couldn’t get over how much a person has to think about to get ready for a new baby. A mattress protector, a changing table pad, a dresser that a child couldn’t tip over, and a diaper pail that the child couldn’t open by herself. Luckily Baby and Company had complete “childproofing” kits that included electrical outlet guards, cupboard and toilet seat locks, and doorknob covers. Just looking at all you needed to make a house safe for a baby made me feel a little nervous.

When we had the bedroom fitted out, we moved on to other large equipment. The car seat and swing were easy. Peaches just referred to her Consumer Reports list. We did have to choose between “Rock-a-bye Baby” and “Frére Jacques” for the tune the baby swing would play.

“It’s a matter of choosing one you won’t mind listening to a few thousand times,” the saleslady said, with a twinkle in her eye.

“The bear mobile already plays ‘Rock-a-bye Baby,’ ” I pointed out to Peaches. “And I bet people will give you plenty of wind-up toys and music boxes that play that song, too.”

Peaches patted me on the shoulder. “You sold me. We’ll take ‘Frére Jacques.’ ”

Then we moved on to my favorite section — the baby clothes. (Major ooh! ah! time.)

“We don’t know yet whether it’s going to be a girl or a boy,” Peaches said. “But I’ve always hated that old ‘Girls have to wear pink, and boys have to wear blue’ routine. Why don’t we each pick out a couple of outfits we like in the newborn to six month size, and take it from there?”

“Everything is so tiny. It’s just too cute for words,” I said as I held up sleeper after sleeper.

“Look at these socks!” Peaches held up a pink ruffled sock that could have fit on her thumb. “It’s hard to believe a baby’s foot could be so small.”

Just talking about how little and precious a baby is brought tears to our eyes. I would have felt silly crying in any other store, but I could tell by the saleslady’s reaction that she was used to it. Even her eyes looked a little misty.

Peaches had the saleslady ring everything up (the sales ticket was two feet long!) and made arrangements for the furniture, the car seat, and the other big items to be delivered later, to the new house. But we both agreed that we wanted to take the baby clothes with us so that we could ooh! and ahh! with Russ, Mom, Dad, and Janine back at home.

While Peaches was signing the credit card form at the cash register, I looked at baby blankets. Several of the ones on display had been knit by hand. They were just beautiful. I made a mental note of one in particular, a pale lavender throw laced with delicate little designs at the top and bottom. I knew I wanted Mary Anne to help me knit a blanket like that one.

We hauled the packages out to the car and tossed them in the back. As Peaches settled in behind the wheel she turned to me and said, “That was a blast. What should we do now?”

“Do?” Frankly, I was kind of tired from our shopping spree and I had figured Peaches would be completely worn out. I remember Mrs. Newton was always taking naps when she was pregnant.

“I’m too excited to just go home,” Peaches said as she started the engine. “What do you say we go to the movies?”

“I’d love to,” I said, “but …”

“But what?” Peaches demanded.

“I have homework.”

“Homework on a Saturday?” Peaches waved one hand at me. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s what Sundays are for.”

I knew that if I waited until Sunday to do my homework, I might not finish it. Then Monday would roll around and I’d be in a panic. Besides, I had a baby-sitting job on Sunday.

“I’m supposed to sit for the Barretts tomorrow,” I explained.

“So take your homework with you,” Peaches suggested. “Or get up early tomorrow morning and I’ll help you. And what I don’t know, Russ can fill in. Or — do it tonight.”

Peaches was very convincing. I have to admit, I love spur-of-the-moment decisions and after all, it was Saturday. Most kids in America go out and have fun on Saturdays.

“Okay,” I grinned. “You sold me. Let’s go to the movies.”

We hurriedly bought a newspaper to see what movies were playing. Peaches is so crazy. She suggested we just close our eyes, point to a movie ad, then go see whatever movie the ad was for. Want to hear something amazing? Peaches picked Bringing Up Baby, an old movie playing at this tiny little theatre that shows only old movies and foreign films. We both decided it was a major good luck sign.

The movie was really funny. You see, it stars Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Katharine Hepburn is this rich girl who falls in love with Cary Grant, who plays a crazy dinosaur scientist (Peaches said they’re called paleontologists). Here’s the really silly part: Baby isn’t a baby at all. Baby is the name of her pet leopard. We had a terrific time gorging ourselves on popcorn from an old-fashioned popcorn machine they had in the lobby, plus two boxes of Junior Mints (my choice), and an ice cream bar (Peaches’s choice). It was a great afternoon!

When we finally pulled into my driveway, we found Natalie Springer sitting on the front stoop. She had her chin in her hands and was looking really dejected.

“Hi, Natalie! What are you doing here?” I called from behind my load of packages.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home and play with me,” she replied.

“Play with you?” I opened the front door for Peaches, who carried her packages inside to her room. Then I set my own bags by the front closet and returned to Natalie. “How long have you been sitting there?”

Natalie, whose glasses were more crooked than usual, shrugged. “A few minutes, but it feels like hours.”

“Look, Natalie,” I said, trying to be gentle, “I’d like to play with you but I can’t right now. I have to do my homework.”

“Homework?” She scrunched up her nose. “On Saturday?”

Now Natalie was sounding like Peaches! “I really have a lot of homework to do,” I said, more firmly this time. “And if I played with you, it might not get done. I’ll walk you home, and maybe we can set up a date to play another time.”

“You don’t have to walk me home,” Natalie said with a loud sniff. “I can go by myself.”

“Well, okay,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll walk you to the corner.”

Natalie really looked miserable as she headed down Elm Street. Her shoulders were hunched over and she stared at the sidewalk the entire way. I felt sorry for her, but I knew I had to hit the books. I was not about to get into trouble over my schoolwork.