First mate's log:

February 2, 1969

I hope the Bradys aren't mad at me. Bobby wanted to tag along with me when I went into the jungle for Sloth's Day. Since there aren't any groundhogs on the island, I like to wait and see if Sloan the Sloth sees his shadow. I usually go alone, since it takes awhile for Sloan to even wake up. Bobby begged and pleaded and I finally said OK because he promised that if Sloan didn't come down from his tree by breakfast time, Bobby would go straight home. Also, it was fun to have company and Bobby is a cool little kid.

Well, Sloan came down from the tree soon after sunrise, yawned, and I think gasped at his own shadow. We cheered, although winter doesn't really make much difference on our island. Our cheers startled Sloan and he slowly climbed back up the tree.

Since the show was over, Bobby and I ran back to his house so that he could sneak back in before anyone noticed he was gone. (He says he gets ignored a lot as the youngest boy. I know what that's like.) We probably would've made it back in time but he tripped and scraped his knee. I asked if I should take him to Dr. Howard, but he said he always takes his "owies" to Alice. I offered to go with him, but he didn't want me to get in trouble.

"It's my fault for being a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb, Bobby."

He smiled through his tears. "Thanks, Gilligan. And thanks for taking me to the see the sloth. It was neato!"

"Any time," I said, feeling really guilty.

I didn't even walk him to his block, just to the edge of the neighborhood. Like with Marcia and her mysterious letter to the Bugle, I'm again keeping a secret with a Brady kid, although I don't think this will have as happy an ending. He's going to say he snuck out to play on his own. He doesn't think he'll get grounded like Marcia, since it wasn't late at night and he's littler. Hopefully, his parents will think the scraped knee is punishment enough.


Carol Brady's diary:

February 3, 1969

After five months of stepmotherhood, I'm finally starting to feel useful. Yes, six kids are a lot for Alice to take care of, along with the house, the dog, and Mike. But I've been feeling like her assistant, at best. Even when I offered to do the boys' mending last month, Alice initially said, "This is what you pay me for, Mrs. Brady." I think her professional pride was insulted or something, but then she realized I just wanted to feel useful.

Also, the boys are so used to going to her with their problems, especially since Barbara died. But just this week, they've started to come to me instead.

Yesterday, Bobby showed up right before breakfast, coming in through the sliding door, when I didn't even known he'd gone outside. He said he was playing in the yard and he scraped his knee. I offered to help of course, but he insisted on Alice. I was a little hurt but I understood.

I went upstairs to help the girls choose their outfits for church. To my surprise, Bobby came up a little while later and said that Alice told him she was busy and he should go see "the pretty blonde nurse." I was happy to deal with Bobby's scrape, although I did gently scold him for playing outside on a Sunday morning before breakfast.

I saw this as an isolated incident, but Mike had me sew a button on his shirt that evening, and then today after school Greg and Bobby came to me to settle an argument. In both cases, they said that they didn't want to bother me but Alice was busy. I told them it was no bother, and I tried not to mind being their second choice. In the case of the boys' argument, it was about baseball gloves, and I'd inadvertently set it off by putting Peter's glove away. The boys were just relieved to have it straightened out.

When Mike came home from the current construction site, I told him that I'm really starting to feel like a mother to his sons. He's of course very happy about this. It's not the same as Marcia publicly praising him as Father of the Year, but he knows that step-parenthood has unique challenges and everyone wants to be appreciated for what they do and can do.


February 5, 1969

Something's bothering Alice but I don't know what. She took the late Wednesday afternoon ferry today, rather than her usual early Tuesday afternoon. When I asked why she was going away when the kids would be home from school, she said, "It's OK. Mrs. Brady is there."

I decided not to point out that Mrs. Brady is usually home. Maybe Alice had to run an errand that could only be done later in the day. There was something about Alice's voice, the way she didn't seem like her usual cheerful self, I felt like I shouldn't pry. She didn't seem any happier on the ride back, but she had a determined expression, like she'd made a difficult decision.

No, I don't think this has anything to do with Bobby's scraped knee, unless she got in trouble for not keeping an eye on him early Sunday morning. If so, I feel even guiltier.


February 6, 1969

Alice just gave us her one week's notice! She apologized for the suddenness, but she recently found out her aunt is dying in Seattle. The aunt has no other family to look after her in her last days, and Alice feels she should go be by her side.

We were willing to give Alice as much time off as she needs and have her come back when she's ready, but she said that there'll be too much to settle with the estate afterwards and she'll probably just stay in Washington, live in her aunt's house, and look after the five cats. We would've offered to have her bring the cats along, but of course that wouldn't have worked because of Tiger, and the girls would've brought up the subject of Fluffy. (I've already had a talk with the girls to let them know I don't like the boys better than them, as they feared, and I'm just trying to make up for the boys not having a mother in so long. The girls already felt like it was favoritism that Tiger got to come to the island and Fluffy didn't.) And, yes, Alice could find homes for the cats, but she didn't sound as if she wanted to.

We'll all miss her terribly, especially since it would be difficult to visit back and forth. Even going to Blenford has to be carefully planned. Alice is going to leave on next Thursday's ferry. She'll find someone to babysit the kids so Mike and I can have a pre-Valentine's date. (We skipped the ferry tonight and went for a walk in the moonlight instead, but our talk was more concerned than romantic.) Anyway, we'll accompany her to the airport and then go out to dinner. The kids want to go along but that's just not practical, so they'll say their goodbyes before we leave for the ferry to Blenford.

Mike will place an ad in the Bugle to find a replacement maid, but he will wait until after Alice is gone, just in case something happens to change her mind. The Blenford population is now at about 2000, so hopefully there will be some reliable and experienced, presumably single, woman who would make a good live-in housekeeper, although of course Alice is so much more than that. We can replace her for housework, cooking, and child care, and I can manage all that on my own for awhile, but we can't replace her as a friend.


February 12, 1969

Wow, Alice is leaving the island, for good! I found out when the Skipper said last week that she booked a ferry ride for tomorrow evening but not a return ticket. I didn't find out the reason until I asked Mary Ann on a date and she said she has to babysit.

Yeah, I finally asked her out. I figured that a lot of couples would be going over for date night tomorrow, since it's the day before Valentine's Day. I know it's a big step but maybe it was time to take it. And I figured that she could have Kalani and Ugundi look after the restaurant for one night.

I found a time when the restaurant was empty and I said, "Um, Mary Ann, would you like to go over to Blenford with me tomorrow evening?" I didn't phrase it like a date, in case she just wanted to be friends, since I would like to go to dinner and a movie with her even if we couldn't kiss, although that wouldn't be as much fun.

She said, "Oh, gee, Gilligan, I'm sorry, I'm busy."

"With the restaurant?"

"No, I have plans."

"Oh, a date?" I thought I'd waited too long and one of the construction guys had asked her out.

"No, no, I'm babysitting for the Bradys."

"Oh, right, Alice will be leaving. The Skipper said it has something to do with her family."

She frowned. "Well, sort of."

"Did she talk to you about it?"

She hesitated and said, "Yes, but you can't tell anyone, not even the Skipper."

It wouldn't be the first secret I'd kept from my best friend, and I respect Alice's privacy. Yes, I'm going to write it here but I've confided lots of things in you, and mostly no one has ever read all that I've written in my log.

She said that Alice feels unneeded now that Mr. Brady is married and his sons are starting to treat Mrs. Brady like a mother. At first, Alice was happy, because she wants the Bradys to all get along and be a real family. She was worried when the whole "Dear Libby" thing was going on because she didn't want the Bradys to break up. But when the Brady boys got a telescope they had the Professor order for them and send over on the ferry, they ignored Alice and ran to "show Mom." And there have been other moments in the past couple weeks where Alice felt left out.

Mary Ann tried to convince her that the Bradys still love and need her, and this is just part of the adjustment the household is making now that they're in one big house rather than two little huts. But Alice insisted that it's for the best that she go. The Bradys can get a maid who is less emotionally attached to the family and won't have the expectations and history that she has with them.

We dropped the subject of going out of course, because I was too distracted by what Mary Ann told me about Alice. I have to admit though that I'm relieved Mary Ann doesn't have a date for tomorrow night, and I doubt she's doing anything on Valentine's Day itself. I mean romantic, I mean romantic for herself. I saw she had signs up about Valentine's dinners for Friday evening, so she'll be serving wine and having candles and all that kind of thing. Maybe I'll ask her out some time when it isn't a special occasion.


February 13, 1969

Marcia told us something surprising about Alice yesterday. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop but she was getting a snack out of the refrigerator after school, and Alice was talking to Mary Ann in the family room. Marcia heard Alice telling Mary Ann that she feels unneeded and unwanted now that the boys are turning to me for help more than her. That's why she made up the story about her dying aunt in Seattle. Mary Ann told her that she's still an important part of our family, but she seemed to think that this was just Mary Ann being her typically nice self.

Mike and I came up with a plan to convince Alice that we still need and want her. We were already going to go over on the ferry for our date night, but we decided to dress up more than usual, Mike even putting on his tuxedo, which he had to have Alice iron first. We had Greg and Marcia pretend that they needed to be walked over to their friends' houses, while Peter and Jan would come in and say that Tiger was missing, and then for a finale Bobby and Cindy were scheduled to run in arguing with mud-covered hands, which they would smear all over Mike's tux.

Things went according to plan for the most part, although we had to time things out carefully because of course the ferry would be leaving soon, and if it didn't work out, Alice would be angry that she'd have missed her chance to leave. Alice in fact saw through us and was touched by all the trouble we went through to convince her to stay. However, we ended up missing the ferry because Mike had to change out of his tux.

When Mary Ann showed up to babysit and heard what happened, she offered to fix me and Mike a special candlelit dinner for two in her diner, although it was after hours. We of course agreed and it was lovely.

When Mike was in the restroom, Mary Ann confided in me about Gilligan asking her out for tonight. I felt bad that, because of our family complications, they'd missed their chance but she said, "Mrs. Brady, I consider this progress that, after four and a half years, he finally asked me on a date. I'm sure we'll actually go on a date in the next four and a half years."

I laughed but I did feel sorry for her. If it weren't such short notice, I'd try to matchmake them for tomorrow. But mostly I'm wondering if Greg and Marcia will dance with anyone at the children's Valentine's party after school tomorrow.


February 14, 1969

Instead of asking Mary Ann on another date so soon, I sent her an unsigned Valentine's card, although Mr. Engstrom teased me about it, since I could've just walked it over to the diner or her hut, rather than mailed it. I figure she'll recognize my handwriting, although I'll admit that no one recognized Mr. Howell's handwriting when he was sending love letters to his wife and there weren't even that many possible secret admirers on the island back then.


February 15, 1969

According to Greg, the Valentine's party was fun because of the candy and music, although he ate more than he danced, and he danced by himself, "the modern way," he claimed. Even though he's almost a teenager, he doesn't seem interested in girls yet. As for Marcia, she was more concerned with what she and her friends wore than anything else. I'm glad neither of them is old enough to date yet. The family has enough adjustments to make this first year as it is.