I wondered what life would be like with Cherry. The uniform fixation I could work with, and her experience with medication would come in handy, but her slavish devotion to righting wrongs, at the expense of her own health (See Cherry Ames, Cruise Ship Nurse) worried me. Could we find a 12-step program that would help her actualize her potential, yet still allow her to iron my sheets? For so many reasons, too embarrassing to list here, that relationship could never work out. I was on the verge of abandoning Cherry, too heartsick to pick up, say, Cherry Ames, Country Doctor Nurse, and read of her adventures with attractive, uniformed women, when my mother suffered yet another tragic mishap, one that gave birth, in a roundabout way, to this series. A fire broke out in the garage of her ranch-style house, and the flames snaking up the side, completely consuming a closet filled with cruise wear, one hundred percent synthetic clothing covered with sparkles and sequins. Her collection, which included tops and bottoms, swimsuits and beach robes, melted into one big toxic blob. Four firefighters carried it from the house, set it on the front lawn, and hosed it down. The house was saved, but the contents had been destroyed by smoke and water. Nothing of our past remained, except for a little wooden bookshelf, tucked in the corner of the basement, containing my complete set of Nancy Drews, which my mother promptly shipped to me. When they arrived, a little smoky, I began reading. I knew I had the Cherry puzzle solved. She would date Nancy, tormenting her with her goodness, medical advice, and cheese puff recipes. And I would get to watch the whole thing.
Mabel Maney
San Francisco
July 2002
Contents
Cherry Aimless cut an attractive figure as she dashed through the crowded lobby of Seattle General Hospital, her striking royal blue nurse’s cape sailing behind her and her crisp white cap perched precariously on rumpled curls. Her rosy cheeks were even more flushed than usual, for she had run the entire ten blocks from the children’s free clinic so as not to be late for the night shift on the Women’s Psychiatric Ward. On clinic days the head nurse usually forgave a late entrance, but there would be no forgiving smile awaiting her now, for Head Nurse Margaret Marstad, the strictest nurse in the hospital, would be Cherry’s boss tonight.
Cherry was in a cheery mood, for tomorrow morning she would begin a well-deserved vacation. “In just a few days I’ll be in sunny San Francisco!” she murmured happily.