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arrived home, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, absent-mindedly looking through a recipe book. Her father was asleep on the davenport, the evening paper spread at his feet. Cherry steeled herself for her mother’s reaction to her trip, but before she could open her mouth, her mother surprised her.

      “If you’re going, you’d better get to bed soon, dear,” Mrs. Aimless said, shutting The Joy of Cooking and placing it back on the shelf.

      Cherry jumped up and down with glee. “You mean you don’t mind? And Father too?”

      “I made a deal with your father. He lets you visit Gert, and I promise not to put arsenic in his coffee!” The twinkle in her eye let Cherry in on the joke, and they had a good laugh.

      “Oh,” squealed Cherry. “There’s so much to do! I’ve got dirty clothes to wash, and I promised Aunt Gert I’d call her tonight.”

      Her mother interrupted. “While you were out with your friends I did your laundry; it’s all ironed and pressed and on your bed. And I called Gert, but she wasn’t home.”

      “That’s funny,” Cherry said. “Tonight was the night we set aside to talk. She wanted to know exactly when I was arriving so she could be home.”

      “You know your Aunt Gert, sometimes forgets where she’s supposed to be. She always has her head in the clouds, just like someone else I know.” Mrs. Aimless grinned and shook her head. “You always were like two peas in a pod,” she said. “The older you get, the more you become like Gert. Why, I was just telling her last week that when I look at you, sometimes I swear I see her.”

      Cherry was amazed. “You and Aunt Gert keep in touch?”

      Mrs. Aimless smiled. “What your father doesn’t know …”

      “… won’t hurt him!” Cherry grinned, sweeping her mother up in her arms for a quick waltz around the kitchen table. She deposited a dizzy Mrs. Aimless on the yellow Formica countertop.

      Cherry hugged her mother, who was turning out to be more of an ally than she had imagined. She tried to put her thanks into words. “I know it’s hard for you, with Charley and me so faraway …”

      Her mother hugged her back, and wiped a little tear from her eye. “I guess we’ve all got to follow our rainbows, dear. Now, off to bed with you!” she said, playfully pushing Cherry toward the stairs. “Oh, and Cherry, I put that lavender handkerchief back in the pocket of your uniform. Who on earth is M.M.?”

      But Cherry wasn’t listening. She was too excited to hear anything but the plans buzzing in her head. She didn’t know how she was ever going to sleep! “I’m really, truly going to San Francisco,” she whispered as she raced up the stairs to her attic room. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling something very special was awaiting her in the city by the bay!

       CHAPTER 6

       A Quick Escape

      Cherry had set her alarm for six a.m. in order to get an early start on her trip, but when she awoke, she found she was more tired than she had anticipated. “Just ten more minutes’ sleep,” she groaned, pulling the covers firmly over her head and settling into the soft feather mattress. When she awoke again, her little attic room was flooded with sunlight. The clock read seven-fifteen.

      “Goodness!” she cried, bolting out of bed. “I’d better hurry.” Cherry quickly bathed and ran a comb through her tousled curls. From her suitcase she selected a bright yellow poplin dress with a flared skirt that she knew would be comfortable to sit in as well as pleasing to the eye. She slipped Lana’s book into one of the wide front pockets, grabbed her luggage and ran downstairs, as always taking the steps two at a time.

      “Good morning, early bird,” her mother teased her sleepy-eyed daughter. Mrs. Aimless had tied a white apron over a flowered housecoat and was cutting thick slices of homemade white bread. Cherry’s purse was sitting on the kitchen table, its interior clean and dry.

      “I’m sending a hamper of food with you,” Mrs. Aimless said, making cream cheese and jelly sandwiches to add to the bag of fruit and generous slices of strawberry cake already in the wicker hamper. Cherry assured her that there would be food along the way, but her mother just shook her head.

      “You never know what’s in restaurant food these days,” she said, “especially in those roadside places. One or two eggs?” she asked, holding up a bowl of hard-boiled eggs.

      “Two,” Cherry said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

      “Be careful about drinking the water in California. I hear it’s full of chemicals. And drive carefully. If you get sleepy, pull off the road. Don’t speak to strangers. I’ve put a couple of clean towels over there on the chair. It’s best if you use towels from home.”

      “Yes, Mother,” Cherry said, quickly draining her cup of coffee and snatching a piece of dry toast. Before her mother could talk her into sitting down for a big breakfast, Cherry picked up the hamper of food and her luggage, hugged her mother, and sailed out the door.

      “Call me as soon as you get there!” her mother cried after her.

      “I will,” Cherry said, her mouth full of toast.

      “Don’t forget what I told you!” Mrs. Aimless cried.

      “I won’t.”

      “And have a good time,” she waved. But her good wishes came too late, for her daughter was already backing out of the driveway. Sometimes Mrs. Aimless thought her daughter was entirely too independent for her own good, gallivanting around the Northwest the way she did. It pleased her to know that Cherry’s twin, Charley, was settled in a good job in the interior design business in New York, even if it was so far away. She did wonder, however, if he was ever going to settle down and get married, or if he was planning on living with that roommate for the rest of his life.

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