Hello, Mallory by Ann M. Martin & Ann M. Martin

Author:Ann M. Martin & Ann M. Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 1987-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

That afternoon, Jessi walked home from school with me.

Claire greeted us as soon as we reached my house. She was waiting in the front yard and dashed across the lawn when she saw us. Claire goes to morning kindergarten, so she gets home a couple of hours before my brothers and sisters and I do. She’s always glad to see us.

“Hi! Hi, Mallory!” she called. Then she stopped short and looked Jessi up and down. “Who are you?” she asked.

Please, please, Claire, I thought. Don’t say anything embarrassing.

Before Jessi could answer, Claire went on, “Hey, did you come to cl —”

And all at once I knew what she was going to say. She was going to say, “Did you come to clean our house?” That was because Claire had seen only a few black people in her life. Recently, two black women had shown up when my mom called the Fast ’n’ Easy Cleaning Service in Stamford, needing help getting ready for a party.

Before Claire could finish her sentence I jumped in and said loudly, “This is Jessi Ramsey. She’s my new friend from school. Jessi, this is Claire, my youngest sister.”

“Hi,” said Jessi. She knelt down to Claire’s level. “You look like you lost a tooth.”

It was just the right thing to say.

Claire smiled a gap-toothed smile. “I did! Two days ago. And I put it under my pillow and the tooth fairy took it away — and left twenty-five cents!”

“Wow,” exclaimed Jessi. “You are lucky!”

“I keep my teeth in a box that looks like a tooth. The dentist gave it to me.”

Claire and Jessi were still talking about teeth when Margo, Nicky, and Vanessa came home. I knew the triplets wouldn’t be far behind, unless they were staying at school for soccer practice.

I braced myself, wondering if I’d have to field any more embarrassing questions, but the kids didn’t seem too surprised by Jessi. And she was great with them. She kept asking all the right questions.

“Wow,” she said to Nicky. “What happened to your hand?”

That started Nicky’s long story of his broken finger. He’d told it lots of times by then, and each time, the story grew a little.

“The doctor said it was the worst broken finger he ever saw.”

“Oh, Nicky, he did not,” said Vanessa.

“Yes, he did. He said it was broken in seventeen places.”

“Two,” I whispered to Jessi.

“And this cast weighs twelve pounds.”

“One,” I whispered. “At most.”

Jessi grinned.

“Let’s go inside, you guys,” I said. “I’m hungry.”

We ran into our kitchen and my brothers and sisters began opening drawers and pawing through the refrigerator. They pulled out bread and baloney and mustard, Twinkies and Oreos and Yodels, apples and bananas and oranges.

“Mom,” I said as my mother watched the chaos, “this is Jessi. She moved into Stacey McGill’s house.”

My mother looked just a teeny tiny bit surprised, but she held out her hand and shook Jessi’s. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” she said.

“Thanks,” replied Jessi. She sounded both pleased and surprised.

“Help yourselves to a snack,” offered Mom.

I glanced around the kitchen.

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