who had been like a mother to Nancy since the death of her real mother twenty-two years ago.
“Swell,” Nancy breathed excitedly. “I’ll meet you in my room.”
While Nancy raced upstairs, Cherry deposited the fresh-churned frozen concoction in the deep freeze of the cheerful modernized yellow and white kitchen. “This is the very room in which Carson Clue was shot,” she shivered, staring at the linoleum in front of the Frigidaire where the well-known attorney had lain. She had to admit she was still a little shaken up by all the talk of ghosts. Just then Cherry felt something brush her calf. “Eek!” she cried, spinning around to find, much to her relief, that it was only Nancy’s little terrier, Gogo, playfully nipping at her ankles.
“Phew,” Cherry breathed with relief. She reached for the box of crunchy dog biscuits at the back of the counter and accidentally knocked a tea cake off the platter piled high with treats that Velma had baked especially for Hannah’s birthday party. Gogo immediately pounced on the sweet, and quick as a bunny, pushed open the screen door and fled. Cherry raced after her.
“I hope she doesn’t make herself sick,” Cherry thought worriedly as she searched the fragrant garden for the small dog. She had stomach-ache potion in her first-aid kit, but she had no clue how much to give a terrier. It didn’t matter—Gogo was long gone.
Cherry sighed. From where she stood, she could see Nancy’s bedroom window, her light ablaze. “I’d better get upstairs before Nancy starts to fret about me,” Cherry thought. But she couldn’t bring herself to go inside just yet. Somehow, she just didn’t feel ready to face Nancy—or those shantung silk lounging pajamas!
“I’ll sit for a moment first and enjoy these lovely flowers,” she told herself, plopping down on the wrought-iron bench overlooking Hannah’s award-winning begonias.
“Just last week, I sat on this bench with Jackie,” Cherry remembered. “She held my hand and looked into my eyes and—” She blushed when she recalled the day Jackie had asked her to return with her to San Francisco. Detective Jackie Jones had already spent a week in River Depths, and her vacation time was running out fast. Cherry knew she was waiting around for an answer—but what answer would she give her? Would Cherry travel west with the dashing police detective or would she choose to stay in this Midwestern fairyland in an attempt to recapture her lost love?
“Oh, Cherry Aimless, Registered Nurse, you’re such a silly goose,” Cherry cried aloud, as she was wont to do when faced with a particularly puzzling predicament. As a nurse, Cherry had made many a tough decision and always reacted with lightning-quick action and a cool head, earning her the respect of nurses everywhere. But in matters of the heart, never before had she been so unsure of her feelings.
“Well, just that once, when I had a mad crush on Miss Peebles, the School Nurse, and mother explained to me that when a girl likes an older girl, it’s not a crush in the romantic sense, but rather it’s that she admires the way the older girl carries herself: her poise, charm and attractive, modern way of dress,” she mused.
Cherry chastised herself loudly. “You’re acting like a lovesick schoolgirl!” She shook her head and resolutely jumped up off the bench. “A cool bath and a fresh outfit might be just what I need,” she reasoned. She headed for the house, but as she mounted the back stairs she got a sudden surprise. Jackie was lounging on the wide porch swing, gazing at the sparkling night sky.
Cherry turned bright red. “Oh, hi,” she smiled weakly, wondering if Jackie had been witness to her tortured murmuring. She turned redder still, after she got a good look at Jackie, who had recently stepped out of a refreshing bath. Her jet-black hair was slicked close to her head, and she was clad in a pair of old, soft-looking dungaree trousers and a snug white tee-shirt that showed off her bulging biceps to their best advantage.
Jackie returned her stare, then smiled warmly. “I’ve been sitting here enjoying the meteor showers,” she explained. “They say when you wish on a falling star, your wish comes true,” she continued in a soft tone. “Know what I wished for?”
Cherry turned scarlet. “I got you something at the dog show,” she cried, fishing around in her patent-leather clutch for the brown paper bag that contained Jackie’s souvenir.
Jackie gave a bemused grin when she opened the bag and held up a handsome braided red leather collar and matching leash.
Cherry blushed. “Oh, that’s Midge’s,” she cried. “This is yours,” Cherry said, handing Jackie a small brown bag. Inside, wrapped in layers of protective tissue, was a handsome porcelain figurine of a collie, its head cocked to one side. “The eyes and the ears were painted by hand,” Cherry explained. The figure had cost a pretty penny, but the look of delight in Jackie’s eyes told Cherry that it was six dollars and fifty-nine cents well spent.
“It looks just like the dog I had as a kid,” Jackie grinned with pleasure.
Cherry’s heart started to pound uncontrollably. “I got my mother cute plastic coasters in the shape of Scotty dogs,” Cherry babbled nervously. “And I got Lauren a book about dogs who have rescued people from peril.”
Jackie smiled at the mention of the youngest member of their little gang, sixteen-year-old Lauren Rooney. The troublesome teen had accompanied the gang east from San Francisco, and although she was often underfoot and was too fond of unhealthy snacks, she had proven herself an invaluable aid in times of danger.
“I hope Lauren’s having some good clean fun at camp,” Cherry continued. “Wasn’t it nice of Bess and George to secure her a scholarship so she could spend a week out-of-doors learning necessary craft skills?” Nancy’s oldest chums, Bess Marvel, a giggly girl with a pleasingly plump figure and a sunny disposition, and George Fey, a girl with a boy’s name, had left a few days before for their annual stint as counselors at nearby Camp Hathaway, an exclusive girls’ camp situated on nearby Clear Lake.
“The house sure is quiet without her,” Jackie admitted.
“Even Midge seems a little lonely since she’s been gone,” Cherry marvelled. “I had no idea she could be so maternal.”
Jackie laughed heartily at this notion. “Speaking of maternal, I believe that letter is for you,” she said, pointing to a small cream-colored envelope lying on a nearby wrought-iron glass-topped circular table.
Cherry gasped in delight when she spied the familiar neat handwriting. It was a letter from her mother, Mrs. Doris Aimless of Pleasantville, Idaho! Cherry eagerly ripped open the envelope. Ever since she had spoken with her twin brother Charley, a successful interior decorator in New York City, and received the shocking news that both their parents had had complete and utter nervous breakdowns, Cherry had been on pins and needles awaiting word of their progress. Perhaps this would be it! She eagerly read the missive aloud.
27 July 1959
Dear Cherry,
You’ll never believe it, but your father and I have gone and done the most unexpected thing! We’ve checked
