Free Interrupted by Zondervan Page A

sound, looking away. The moon was still shining, but now it seemed distant — almost like it was retreating from my view. I rubbed my hand across my eye and ripped out the page again.
    I promise not to cry too much, Mama. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll never forget you, no matter what Miss Beatrice says. She’ll never be my mama. I won’t let you down. I promise.
    Until we meet again,
    Your Allie
    I slammed the journal shut and put a hand over my mouth to muffle the tears. I looked down. Mr. Bearington was still in my other hand.
    “Stupid bear!” I screamed, throwing it across the room. Then I collapsed against the window in tears, the glass cold against my sore, throbbing head.
    “Oh, Mama,” I whispered into my arm, “I just want to go home.”

Part Two

1943–1945

Chapter 7
    A narrow fellow in the grass
    Occasionally rides;
    You may have met him, — did you not
,
    His notice sudden is
.
    — Emily Dickinson
    W hat are you reading?”
    I looked up to see Beatrice grimacing at me from across the table.
Why should I bother telling her it’s Emily Dickinson?
I broke our eye contact and turned the page.
    Beatrice buttered a piece of toast. The clinking of her knife pierced the silent air. “I have to make sure our dresses are pressed for this afternoon. I’ll wear the green one and you will be wearing the new blue one.” Without even bothering to look at me squarely, she said, “Don’t make that face, Allie. Russell will think the blue one lovely.”
    I put the book down just long enough to take a sip of milk. Natural light flooded the sunroom, casting shadows on my page.
    “And our nylons have to be steamed too.” Beatrice frowned to herself.
    The silence filled the table. For as long as I’d lived here, it had been like this. Awkward silence. Stilted conversation. Beatrice always reaching to pull something out of me that I wasn’t willing to give.
    Beatrice took a last bite of toast. “You know what? I think I’m going to go get ready. Finish up, Allie. The party begins at one.”
    She walked out of the dining room muttering, finally leaving me alone. I sighed and opened up Dickinson again.
    My eyes skimmed the page, but none of the words sank in.
    Gosh, could life be any more boring?
    “And boom! We blasted their heads off!”
    Laughter erupted among the group. I looked around to see Beatrice nodding as Debra Wilkinson gripped her arm. I forced a smile and went back to counting the blades of grass under my shoes. I held my notebook firmly behind my back so no one would take notice. Every fiber of my being longed to be giggling and talking with Charlie instead of being forced to play good society girl at this stupid party.
    Humphrey Wilkinson laughed and rubbed his stomach. “Well,” he bellowed, “I said to myself, ‘Humphrey Wilkinson, you’ve done your job, killed your Germans, and soon you’ll win your war. Then you can go home and teach your good ol’ son to do the same.’ ” He patted Russell on the back.
    “Papa,” Russell moaned, blushing like a little girl.
    This time I smiled for real.
“Papa”? Oh, please
.
    Russell glanced at me and grinned. “As soon as I marry I’ll get up and go join the war in Europe myself. Yes, sir, I will.”
    My happy feelings vanished and I dropped my gaze back to the ground.
I wish they’d draft you now
. I winced.
That was a cruel thought
.
    Humphrey’s booming laughter filled the lawn again. “That’s my boy!”
    A late May breeze tickled my neck. For as far as I could see, prissy young ladies and prissy old ladies and prissy middle-aged ladies paraded about as obnoxious men laughed much too loudly.
What a wearisome day
.
    Debra leaned toward Beatrice and spoke just loud enough for me to hear. “Russell’s always wanted to join the army. Ever since he was a boy, in fact. But his father and I told him he needed to find a wife first.” She smiled and checked to see if I was listening. “Tell me, Beatrice, has Allie had any boyfriends