The Case Of The Not-So-Nice Nurse. Mabel Maney
find stacked in tidy piles on the kidney-shaped coffee table were fashion magazines and several issues of Reader’s Digest. Nothing piqued her interest.
“I haven’t finished Lana’s book yet!” she suddenly remembered, going to the kitchen to get her purse. But it wasn’t on the table where she had left it earlier. “Mother must have moved it,” Cherry reasoned, noticing how tidy the kitchen was. But her purse wasn’t in the front hall closet, nor was it in the deacon’s bench in the entryway, where her mother stored her spare handbags. She found it in the tiny room off the garage that served as her mother’s laundry room. The contents of the purse, including the book, had been placed in a neat row on the ironing board.
“Mother is such a dear,” Cherry smiled. “She must have discovered that I spilled coffee in my handbag and cleaned it after I went to bed.” She took the book and crept back upstairs, pulling a reluctant Lady behind her. Cherry settled in for a good read, but before she could finish even one page, she was fast asleep. But for Lady, there was no such slumber. She maintained her guard all through the night from her station at the foot of Cherry’s bed.
She knew there was something out there in the night, even if her mistress didn’t!
Cherry awoke to brilliant sunlight streaming across her face. Lady was awake and waiting patiently on the rag rug beside the bed. “Rise and shine!” her mother called from the kitchen. From the fragrant smells wafting up the stairs, Cherry could tell her mother was preparing her award-winning strawberry waffles. She jumped out of bed, donned a simple kelly green dress with a sweetheart neckline, and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Why, she hadn’t had a decent waffle for a whole year!
Cherry spent the morning in a whirlwind: chatting on the phone with chums, standing still so her mother could measure her for a new party frock, and making rhubarb tarts for her mother’s bridge club luncheon the next day. Mid-afternoon she slipped into a gingham sundress and soft white moccasins and walked downtown. The heat was stifling, and she ducked into Tilly’s Drugstore for a refreshing vanilla soda. She was just deciding whether or not to have a second, when Miss Molly Mathers, the high school physical education teacher, plopped down onto the stool beside her. She was so full of questions about life in a big city hospital that before Cherry knew it, two hours had slipped away.
“Golly,” she gulped, taking a last sip of her second soda. “I’ve got to get home to help Mother prepare supper. Bye, Miss Mathers.”
Cherry ran all the way back to Badger Avenue and found her mother had everything under control. The dining room table had already been set with the good china, and azaleas from Mrs. Aimless’s garden had been arranged in a festive centerpiece at the center of the table.
Cherry took a quick shower, ran a comb through her disheveled curls and applied fresh lipstick. Resplendent in a dressy mint-green crepe frock and festive gold sandals, she made her way downstairs. “Why, I forgot to eat lunch!” she exclaimed, sniffing appreciatively. Her mother had prepared a special supper of pot roast, baked potatoes and green bean casserole. A strawberry cake sat cooling in the kitchen, awaiting a final frosting of vanilla icing.
Mrs. Aimless sent her daughter into the living room to finish arranging the hors d’oeuvres. Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver, her parent’s closest friends, arrived a few minutes later.
“Why, Cherry, you look splendid!” gushed Mrs. Cleaver, hugging the blushing girl to her cashmere-clad bosom. “And, Doris, your table could win a prize!” Mrs. Cleaver complimented Mrs. Aimless, who beamed with pride.
Mr. Aimless was delayed at the office, so Cherry, her mother and their guests sat patiently in the living room, sampling the yummy treats her mother had spent the afternoon preparing.
“Delicious cheese ball!” Mr. Cleaver exclaimed. Mrs. Aimless confessed that she was testing a new recipe for entry in the upcoming county fair. Her guests assured her she would surely win first prize, and reached for seconds. Half a cheese ball later, Mr. Aimless arrived and dinner was served.
Mrs. Aimless seated Cherry next to her father. “Have a nice chat with your father,” she whispered in Cherry’s ear.
Cherry made several attempts to engage her father in conversation and finally got him talking with a query about his business. A long lecture about the booming real estate market in Idaho followed. Cherry found her mind wandering to the absent Aimless—her twin brother Charles.
How she wished Charley were here! Although the two didn’t look anything alike, Charley being as fair as she was dark, they shared the same sense of fun and good sportsmanship. Charley was so animated and funny that he had saved many family dinners from complete disaster with his quick wit.
“So, Cherry, how’s life in the big city?” asked Mrs. Cleaver, digging into the green bean and potato chip casserole. “Your mother tells me you work with lots of interesting doctors!”
“Single doctors,” her mother added, winking at her friend. Cherry wanted to talk about her hospital experiences, about her friends and the mysterious Lana, but she knew any mention of a mystery would just worry her mother, who had never forgotten the fright she had experienced during the Pringle farm incident.
That adventure had scared Cherry, too, for she had been kidnapped and tied up in a fruit cellar. She still shuddered when she remembered the feeling of spiders crawling over her arms and legs! It was only because of the heroic Lady that the search party had found Cherry. The collie had tunneled her way out of the cellar and run miles through pouring rain for help.
Cherry slipped the courageous collie a nice piece of pot roast. The dog accepted the offering gratefully from her hiding place at Cherry’s feet. Cherry wiped her hands on the embroidered napkin in her lap. As she fingered the linen she fondly remembered the summer twelve years ago when her father’s sister had come to visit. That summer her Aunt Gertrude taught her to sew, and they had made many lovely things together.
For some reason, Father didn’t like his youngest sister and refused to speak of her. But when Mr. Aimless had gone east for the summer to a special real estate school, her mother had invited Aunt Gertrude for a visit.
Gert had never married, but with her vivacious personality and striking good looks, she made friends easily. The first week in Pleasantville she became fast friends with the town librarian, Miss Hathaway. Soon the four of them had become a sort of club, and they spent the summer days swimming, hiking, and picnicking. In the evening, they had often sat on the front porch, sewing and talking.
Her father had arrived home a week early to find Gert and Miss Hathaway napping in the spare bedroom. He forbade them to set foot in his house again, and that was the last Cherry saw of Aunt Gert. Her parents didn’t know they had been writing regularly since Cherry went away to nursing school.
Her mother interrupted her thoughts. Apparently, she had been trying to get Cherry’s attention for some time. “So, Cherry, what are you planning to do with the rest of your vacation? There’s plenty going on here, what with the county fair coming up, and the hay ride, and that nice young Jim Fud has been asking about you.”
“Why, I’m going to visit Aunt Gertrude in San Francisco!” Cherry blurted out before she could stop herself.
Cherry held her breath. The room seemed so still. No one said a word. Finally, her mother broke the silence.
“San Francisco? Isn’t that awfully far away?” her mother asked nervously.
She was interrupted by shouts from a group of Cherry’s chums, five good-natured, if somewhat noisy, girls who had just pulled up in a canary-yellow sedan. The group had spent all their spare time together in high school, leaving no room for the school activities, football games and Saturday night dates that other girls were so interested in.
Many a time Mrs. Aimless had counseled Cherry that no man would want to marry her if she didn’t begin to act more interested in dating, but Cherry had brushed her off with a joking, “So who wants to get married?”
“I