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sparkling and glinting in the sun. If she’d been fifty years younger she wouldn’t have resisted the temptation to make a snow angel. She smiled as she imagined the comedy of a woman her age stopping to lie down in the snow to create just such a thing.
    “No doubt they’d have me hauled off to the county home for the feebleminded,” she mused.
    With that thought still giving her cause to smile, Estella found herself in front of Andy’s house.
    “Seems like a nice place,” she said as she observed the small one-story home. There was no sign that anyone had been about. Andy’s walkway was deep with snow. “I’ll have to be careful,” she murmured. “Otherwise, I might end up making that snow angel after all.”
    She cautiously made her way up the walk, brushing the snow back and forth with her booted foot. It was a slow process, but it gave a hint of a clearing and helped Estella to better make her way. There were patches where ice had formed beneath the snow, making it even more risky, but her need to know if Andy was all right drove her forward in mock bravery.
    Reaching the door, Estella knocked loudly. No one answered. She knocked again, but still there was no response. Reaching her gloved hand to the doorknob, Estella tried it. The knob turned and the door opened without any trouble.
    She peeked her head in and called out, “Andy? Andy, are you here?”
    She hated to just walk in but felt she had no choice. Something wasn’t right. She was sure Andy would have gone to work if he were able.
    “Andy?” she called again, now walking down the hall. She didn’t even bother to take off her boots, figuring she would clean up the mess later.
    Estella passed the front room and continued toward the back of the house. She noted the small kitchen and cold stove. The chill of the house was almost as bad as outside.
    “Andy?”
    She opened a door and found a bedroom. The coldness was worse here, as the room had been shut off from the rest of the house, shades pulled. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she could see that the room was neatly kept. The bed was made and the little dresser on the far wall had a neat arrangement of personal items a woman might use.
    “This must be his mother’s room,” Estella whispered to herself.
    Pulling the door closed, Estella crossed the hall to the only other door. This one stood ajar.
    “Andy, are you in there?”
    She pushed open the door and could see the outline of someone in the small iron bed. Coming across the room, she reached down to touch Andy’s face. He was burning up with fever.
    “Oh, Andy, I’m so sorry. I should have come sooner.”
    He opened his eyes but didn’t really seem to see her. He moaned and coughed and then closed his eyes again, as if the entire matter had been too much effort.
    Estella knew what she had to do. She quickly went to the kitchen. Pulling off her outdoor things, she mentally planned what to do first.
    “We need some heat in this house,” she declared. Shelooked to the stove and found a scuttle of coal sitting beside it. “Good. At least I won’t have to go searching.”
    She quickly built a fire in the stove and put water on to boil. The steam would make it easier for Andy to breathe, and she could also use some of the water to make soup. “If I can find some ingredients,” she said to herself.
    She looked in the cupboards and drawers. There was such a small selection to be had and what she really needed was a fresh piece of chicken. Why, with that, she could make a nice pot of broth. Nothing made a person feel better faster than chicken soup.
    After a futile search, Estella decided there was no other option but to go back out and walk to the store. She had her ration coupons and could probably get some small piece of meat. It wouldn’t be much, as she couldn’t afford much.
    “Lord, you know what this boy needs. You know I hate to leave him here, but I must. Go before me, Lord,” she prayed as she pulled on her