Free When the Clouds Roll By by Myra Johnson Page A

overtime.”
    Annemarie slipped on her coat, scarf, and gloves. “For a little extra income at Christmas, I’m sure they will be.”
    “Naturally.” Papa set the order under a paperweight and retrieved his coat. He switched off the electric lights, and Annemarie followed him out the back door.
    Crossing the alley behind the factory, they trudged up a long hill toward home, a brisk north wind whipping at their coattails. Papa held open the gate of their backyard picket fence, and Annemarie darted across the lawn and into the warmth of the kitchen.
    “Just in time, you two.” Mama ladled steaming mashed potatoes into a serving bowl. “Five minutes more and my gravy would have turned to glue.”
    Annemarie laughed as she slid her arms out of her coat sleeves. “You couldn’t ruin gravy if you tried, Mama. Someday you’ll have to teach me your secret.”
    Mama tweaked her cheek. “I’ve tried, dearest, I’ve tried. But a certain young lady seems to care not a whit for learning to cook.”
    “Well, she’d better learn mighty quick.” Papa draped his coat on a hook by the back door. “Otherwise her husband-to-be will soon be thin as a broomstick.”
    At the mention of Gilbert, Annemarie turned away with a sniff. Late this afternoon she’d telephoned the hospital to ask about him, only to be told there’d been an “incident” and he was under sedation. Since she wasn’t a family member, they wouldn’t offer details. Thinking perhaps Chaplain Vickary would know more, she’d asked to speak with him but was told he was conferring with patients.
    Annemarie couldn’t shake her concern that “conferring with patients” meant one patient in particular.
    The family sat down to supper, but Annemarie had lost her appetite. After forcing down as much as she could of her mother’s savory pot roast and vegetables, she excused herself and carried her dishes to the sink. “Mama, would you mind if I went over to the Ballards’ for a short visit?”
    Mama reached for Annemarie’s hand and gave it an understanding squeeze. “We’re all concerned about Gilbert. Perhaps Evelyn has some news that will ease your mind.”
    “Let me drive you, darling.” Papa eased back from the table and tossed his napkin next to his plate. “You don’t need to be walking alone after dark, especially on a cold night like this.”
    While Papa went to bring the car around, Annemarie bundled up once more. Mama walked her to the front door and made sure her scarf was tucked snugly around her ears. “Tell Evelyn we’re praying every day for her dear boy.”
    “I will, Mama.” Annemarie tugged on her gloves, recalling that day at the depot. How she longed for the touch of Gilbert’s strong, firm hand. How she hungered for a tender kiss from his sweet lips.
    Mama used her thumb to brush away a tear that escaped the corner of Annemarie’s eye. “Cling to your faith, my girl. The Lord holds Gilbert firmly in His arms. You’ll both come through this time of trial and be the stronger for it.”
    Offering a weak smile, Annemarie pulled her mother into a hug. “Faith is all I have right now. If only I could give some of it to Gilbert.”

8
    A nnemarie shivered on the Ballards’ broad front porch as she waited for someone to answer the bell. A full moon crept slowly up from the east, casting silvery beams across the windows. Wood smoke and evergreens scented the crisp night air, reminding Annemarie that Christmas was only a few days away.
    A shadowy form appeared on the other side of the beveled-glass door, and Marguerite peeked through the filmy curtain. The door swung open. “Get yourself in here, Miss Annie, before you turn into an icicle.”
    Annemarie bustled inside and greeted the servant with a grateful hug. “Is Mrs. Ballard in? I hope she won’t mind my stopping by unannounced.”
    “Don’t be silly. You know you’re always welcome here.” Marguerite helped Annemarie out of her coat and hung it in the entryway closet.