"It wasn't your fault," he said.
"Then whose was it?"
Dad shrugged. "What difference does it make?"
"None, I guess."
A little while later, Dad and I were hugging good-bye.
"I promise that my next visit will be more fun," I said.
"I should hope so," Dad answered, smiling. "This'll be hard to top in terms of rotten vacations."
"There's always the sewage treatment plant," I said. "Maybe we could tour it the next time I come for a weekend."
"Okay," said my father. "Then we'll finish off the day with a ride on a garbage barge. We'll try to pick a hot, sunny afternoon so the garbage will be particularly disgusting and smelly."
"Dad, you are so gross!" I cried.
"That's what fathers are for," he replied, as he left my room.
When he was gone, Mom and I waited around for a doctor to come give me a final examination. Then we could . . . leave!
Now it was sometime in the early afternoon, and Mom and I were following the Yellow Brick Road back to our house on Elm Street in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. My eyes drooped as we drove along.
The next thing I knew, Mom was gently shaking my shoulder.
"We're almost home, Stace," she said.
"Okay," I replied groggily. Why was Mom waking me up? I would wake up by myself when she parked the car in — "I don't believe it!" I cried.
Mom turned to smile at me, "Everyone's glad you've come back."
"I guess so!"
We were turning the corner onto our street, and already I could see a bunch of balloons tied to our mailbox. And standing in the yard was a small crowd of kids. As we pulled closer, I could see all my BSC friends, Charlotte, Becca Ramsey, Jamie Newton, Myriah and Gabbie Perkins, and several of Mallory's brothers and sisters.
And then I saw the banner: WE'RE GLAD
YOU'RE HOME, STAGEY! It had been hung across the front door. "I don't believe it," I said again.
Mom pulled into the driveway. "Your public awaits you," she said.
Slowly I got out of our car. As soon as I stood up, everybody began yelling and cheering and calling to me.
"Hi!" I cried.
And then there was this rush of bodies. I ran around the front of the car ("Slow down, Stacey," said Mom) and all the kids ran toward me. Soon I was hugging everyone, except the Pike triplets, who said they would die if a girl touched them.
"I'm so glad you're home," said Claudia.
"Oh, me, too!" I replied.
I looked down to see who was hugging my waist. It was Charlotte.
"I didn't really think you'd come back," she said. "But you're all well now."
The truth was, I would never be all well, but I didn't think this was the appropriate time to say so to Charlotte.
Mary Anne was standing at a picnic table. She ladled lemonade into paper cups, and the kids passed them around. I sat down on the front stoop to drink mine — after I checked to make sure that it didn't contain any real sugar.
"Tired, Stace?" asked Dawn.
"Yeah," I admitted.
So Dawn broke up the party then. She sent the guests home, except for Claudia. By this time, Mom had emptied the car. She had carried the suitcase and shopping bags and vases of flowers inside.
"I think I'm going to lie down for awhile," I told Claud.
"Are you going to nap?" she asked.
"No. Just rest. Come with me, okay?"
Claud nodded. "Sure."
We stepped into my house. I breathed in deeply. "Ahhh. This certainly smells better than the hospital did."
Claudia giggled. "Come along, patient," she said.
"Okay, Nurse Claudia." I turned around. "Mom, Claudia and I are going upstairs!" I called.
"All right," my mother called back.
"I think I'm actually going to get in bed," I told Claud as we trudged upstairs. When we reached my room, I opened my window. "Fresh air," I murmured. Then I glanced around. "You don't know how nice it is to see colors other than gray and white."
I opened a drawer and took out a clean nightgown.
"Oh, yes, I do," Claud replied, thinking of her own stay in the hospital after she'd broken her leg.
I changed into my nightgown and crawled into bed. Claudia and I gabbed until I
"Then whose was it?"
Dad shrugged. "What difference does it make?"
"None, I guess."
A little while later, Dad and I were hugging good-bye.
"I promise that my next visit will be more fun," I said.
"I should hope so," Dad answered, smiling. "This'll be hard to top in terms of rotten vacations."
"There's always the sewage treatment plant," I said. "Maybe we could tour it the next time I come for a weekend."
"Okay," said my father. "Then we'll finish off the day with a ride on a garbage barge. We'll try to pick a hot, sunny afternoon so the garbage will be particularly disgusting and smelly."
"Dad, you are so gross!" I cried.
"That's what fathers are for," he replied, as he left my room.
When he was gone, Mom and I waited around for a doctor to come give me a final examination. Then we could . . . leave!
Now it was sometime in the early afternoon, and Mom and I were following the Yellow Brick Road back to our house on Elm Street in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. My eyes drooped as we drove along.
The next thing I knew, Mom was gently shaking my shoulder.
"We're almost home, Stace," she said.
"Okay," I replied groggily. Why was Mom waking me up? I would wake up by myself when she parked the car in — "I don't believe it!" I cried.
Mom turned to smile at me, "Everyone's glad you've come back."
"I guess so!"
We were turning the corner onto our street, and already I could see a bunch of balloons tied to our mailbox. And standing in the yard was a small crowd of kids. As we pulled closer, I could see all my BSC friends, Charlotte, Becca Ramsey, Jamie Newton, Myriah and Gabbie Perkins, and several of Mallory's brothers and sisters.
And then I saw the banner: WE'RE GLAD
YOU'RE HOME, STAGEY! It had been hung across the front door. "I don't believe it," I said again.
Mom pulled into the driveway. "Your public awaits you," she said.
Slowly I got out of our car. As soon as I stood up, everybody began yelling and cheering and calling to me.
"Hi!" I cried.
And then there was this rush of bodies. I ran around the front of the car ("Slow down, Stacey," said Mom) and all the kids ran toward me. Soon I was hugging everyone, except the Pike triplets, who said they would die if a girl touched them.
"I'm so glad you're home," said Claudia.
"Oh, me, too!" I replied.
I looked down to see who was hugging my waist. It was Charlotte.
"I didn't really think you'd come back," she said. "But you're all well now."
The truth was, I would never be all well, but I didn't think this was the appropriate time to say so to Charlotte.
Mary Anne was standing at a picnic table. She ladled lemonade into paper cups, and the kids passed them around. I sat down on the front stoop to drink mine — after I checked to make sure that it didn't contain any real sugar.
"Tired, Stace?" asked Dawn.
"Yeah," I admitted.
So Dawn broke up the party then. She sent the guests home, except for Claudia. By this time, Mom had emptied the car. She had carried the suitcase and shopping bags and vases of flowers inside.
"I think I'm going to lie down for awhile," I told Claud.
"Are you going to nap?" she asked.
"No. Just rest. Come with me, okay?"
Claud nodded. "Sure."
We stepped into my house. I breathed in deeply. "Ahhh. This certainly smells better than the hospital did."
Claudia giggled. "Come along, patient," she said.
"Okay, Nurse Claudia." I turned around. "Mom, Claudia and I are going upstairs!" I called.
"All right," my mother called back.
"I think I'm actually going to get in bed," I told Claud as we trudged upstairs. When we reached my room, I opened my window. "Fresh air," I murmured. Then I glanced around. "You don't know how nice it is to see colors other than gray and white."
I opened a drawer and took out a clean nightgown.
"Oh, yes, I do," Claud replied, thinking of her own stay in the hospital after she'd broken her leg.
I changed into my nightgown and crawled into bed. Claudia and I gabbed until I
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