The Mystery of the Memorial Day Fire

it says ‘Before’? Nobody’s going to think we’re smiling now, Trixie.”
    “This flawed feedback seems like a febrile manifestation,” Mart said.
    Trixie opened her mouth to retort, then closed it and shook her head. “All right, Mart,” she said. “You’ve got me this time. I have no idea what you just said.”
    “Mart means — and I think he has a good point - that you’ve literally worried yourself sick about Nick Roberts and his father since last night,” Brian told his sister.
    “Oh, Brian, you’re right,” Trixie said, ignoring the fact that Mart had actually made the point first. “I don’t think I slept a wink last night. I suppose I did overreact to those pictures, but it just hurts to be reminded that I was so happy last night, when I’m so miserable now.”
    “Well,” Brian said, “at the risk of making you even more miserable, I suppose I should tell you this morning’s news. I heard on the radio that the site of the explosion was the Roberts Trophy Shop.”
    “It happened right there in Nick Roberts’s father’s store?” Trixie shrilled.
    “In the basement of that store,” Brian said. “The store is badly damaged, of course, and so is the warehouse next to it. But there’s a lot more good news than bad news. Nobody was killed — nobody was even hurt, except for a couple of fire fighters who inhaled too much smoke. What’s even more remarkable is that the fire fighters limited the damage to those two buildings, even though they were held up so badly waiting for the crowd to clear out.”
    “None of that good news helps Mr. Roberts,” Trixie pointed out.
    “In a way it does,” Brian said. “I’m sure he’d feel much worse if someone had been killed trying to save his store. Anyway, worrying about it doesn’t help Mr. Roberts, either. I think you’d better let go of this thing before you really do get sick.”
    “If ailments enthrall you, might I recommend that you contemplate the condition of the Bob-White clubhouse? Such cogitations will create that condition, I’m sure,” Mart said.
    “Yipes!” Trixie said, her dejected look instantly replaced by an agitated one. “I’d forgotten all about the clubhouse! Today’s the day we’re all supposed to meet there, to see how it got through the winter and decide what repairs it needs this summer!”
    “The agreed-upon hour is ten a.m.,” Mart said. “Consequently, less anxiety and more action on your part would be advisable.”
    “Okay,” Trixie said. “I’ll hurry up and get ready, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying about Nick and his family.” Trixie tossed her napkin onto the table and hurried upstairs.
    Moments later, she came back down, pulling a V-neck sweater over her plaid shirt. The sun pouring in through the windows was warm, but she knew from experience that the clubhouse would still be giving off the chill it had taken in over the winter.
    “Aren’t you ready yet ?” she asked her brothers teasingly.
    “We are indeed,” Brian said, rising from the table and picking up his dishes. “We’ll just go out through the kitchen so we can take our dishes to the sink. I’d suggest you do the same, since Moms is being good enough to let you out of spring chores this morning.”
    “Oh, Brian, you’re right,” Trixie said, hurrying over to the table and picking up the cereal bowl and milk glass she’d left there. In the kitchen, she rinsed out her dishes in the sink, and then paused to hug her mother, who was standing at the stove. “I do appreciate the morning off,” she said. “I’ll work twice as hard this afternoon to make up for it, I promise I will.”
    “I know you will,” Mrs. Belden said. “And since our main task today is to finish getting the seedlings into the garden, I’d say starting first thing this afternoon is a good idea. The ground will have a few extra hours to warm up. We’ll have a few extra hours without aching backs, as well!”
    Trixie groaned and placed one hand on her lower back, anticipating the ache that would be there before bedtime. “Oh, woe,” she said. “All those little tomatoes and beans and onions to put in all those little tiny holes in all those long, straight lines. Are you sure the garden is worth all that work?”
    “Well, why don’t you think about all the chili and spaghetti sauce and green beans with bacon we’ll be having in a few months. Then you can tell me whether or not it’s worthwhile,” Helen Belden