Read Online Winter Passing by Cindy Martinusen Coloma - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cindy Martinusen Coloma
Tags: World War II, Christian fiction, New Love, Healing, 1941, Christian Historical Fiction, Mauthausen Concentration Camp, Nazi-occupied Austria, Tatianna, death-bed promise, winter of the soul, lost inheritance
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growing so quickly.
Darby’s mother listed everything to beware of as they entered the airport. Darby tried not to laugh as her mother handed her a list of “be carefuls.”
“Mom, did you write my name on my socks and underwear too?”
“I should have,” Carole said as they stopped at the baggage check-in.
“I can handle it from here. Thanks for coming down with me, Mom.”
Carole hugged Darby. “Okay, this is it, then.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ve never traveled. I’ll call when I get there.”
Darby wanted to make a quick escape. Good-byes were hard enough without long hugs and her mother dabbing her eyes on a tissue.
“I’m praying for you and still trying to believe this is somehow the right thing. But I’m just going to leave now. Call me.”
Darby hugged her mother one more time. “See you later, Mom.”
As she left Carole behind, Darby began to feel the doubts growing. The last time she’d allowed any of her old Europe dreams was with her ex-boyfriend, Derek Hunt. He was an avid cyclist and wanted them to ride across the countryside. They’d made plans, checked airfares, and studied maps, but it never happened. None of the dreams she’d had with him ever happened. Life became cameras, good lights and flashes, appointments, and faces on 8 x 10s. Now she’d volunteered to rip herself away from what had become familiar—even safe. Why was she doing this again?
The doubts turned to pricks of fear after she boarded the plane and stowed her luggage in the overhead bin. She was really doing this, really going to Austria. But it didn’t feel like a magical and grand adventure. Suddenly Darby felt like she was clinging to the side of the swimming pool, and her fingers were being pried away. Would she sink or would she swim?
As the plane taxied away from familiar land, Darby wasn’t quite sure.
Chapter Seven
I’m alone. Alone, alone, Darby’s mind whispered as she followed a crowd of people toward the baggage area in Salzburg, Austria. For the first time, she understood being a stranger in a strange land. Sure, she took wealthy executives on backpacking expeditions, but that somehow seemed safer—back in the good old United States.
She paused in the smoky terminal, which bustled with noise and movement. She felt trapped, surrounded by people speaking different languages, and uncertain in a country she knew little about, beyond Grandma’s alpine trails and the smell of the trees. Would she get lost in the airport or once she stepped outside? Where exactly was customs, and would they rifle through her belongings like in the movies? Had she forgotten anything?
Darby touched her passport in the front zipper pocket of her purse for the third time since they landed. The line around the luggage wheel was packed. Finally, her two black suitcases arrived, and she squeezed in to grab them. Along with her camera case, carry-on duffel, and purse, it was a job organizing and carting everything toward the next checkpoint. Darby’s eyes burned, and suddenly she was thankful for California’s strict no-smoking laws. The customs sign was the next stop, and she moved to the Non-EU line for non-European citizens. She slid her passport to the young man behind a glass window.
“I’m sorry. Your passport is not valid,” the customs officer stated.
“What?”
“You have not signed your name,” he said with a large smile. He set a pen in front of her.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, not finding his humor funny. She quickly signed her name and watched him stamp a blank page. Darby continued through, realizing she’d just survived her first customs.
People hurried around her, some toward families for excited reunions. Other people waited near walls, eyes searching the crowd, with names written on papers. She thought of the six thousand miles separating her from anyone who would race to enter her arms.
The Austria of Grandma Celia’s romantic and adventurous stories was not the Austria she
Darby’s mother listed everything to beware of as they entered the airport. Darby tried not to laugh as her mother handed her a list of “be carefuls.”
“Mom, did you write my name on my socks and underwear too?”
“I should have,” Carole said as they stopped at the baggage check-in.
“I can handle it from here. Thanks for coming down with me, Mom.”
Carole hugged Darby. “Okay, this is it, then.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ve never traveled. I’ll call when I get there.”
Darby wanted to make a quick escape. Good-byes were hard enough without long hugs and her mother dabbing her eyes on a tissue.
“I’m praying for you and still trying to believe this is somehow the right thing. But I’m just going to leave now. Call me.”
Darby hugged her mother one more time. “See you later, Mom.”
As she left Carole behind, Darby began to feel the doubts growing. The last time she’d allowed any of her old Europe dreams was with her ex-boyfriend, Derek Hunt. He was an avid cyclist and wanted them to ride across the countryside. They’d made plans, checked airfares, and studied maps, but it never happened. None of the dreams she’d had with him ever happened. Life became cameras, good lights and flashes, appointments, and faces on 8 x 10s. Now she’d volunteered to rip herself away from what had become familiar—even safe. Why was she doing this again?
The doubts turned to pricks of fear after she boarded the plane and stowed her luggage in the overhead bin. She was really doing this, really going to Austria. But it didn’t feel like a magical and grand adventure. Suddenly Darby felt like she was clinging to the side of the swimming pool, and her fingers were being pried away. Would she sink or would she swim?
As the plane taxied away from familiar land, Darby wasn’t quite sure.
Chapter Seven
I’m alone. Alone, alone, Darby’s mind whispered as she followed a crowd of people toward the baggage area in Salzburg, Austria. For the first time, she understood being a stranger in a strange land. Sure, she took wealthy executives on backpacking expeditions, but that somehow seemed safer—back in the good old United States.
She paused in the smoky terminal, which bustled with noise and movement. She felt trapped, surrounded by people speaking different languages, and uncertain in a country she knew little about, beyond Grandma’s alpine trails and the smell of the trees. Would she get lost in the airport or once she stepped outside? Where exactly was customs, and would they rifle through her belongings like in the movies? Had she forgotten anything?
Darby touched her passport in the front zipper pocket of her purse for the third time since they landed. The line around the luggage wheel was packed. Finally, her two black suitcases arrived, and she squeezed in to grab them. Along with her camera case, carry-on duffel, and purse, it was a job organizing and carting everything toward the next checkpoint. Darby’s eyes burned, and suddenly she was thankful for California’s strict no-smoking laws. The customs sign was the next stop, and she moved to the Non-EU line for non-European citizens. She slid her passport to the young man behind a glass window.
“I’m sorry. Your passport is not valid,” the customs officer stated.
“What?”
“You have not signed your name,” he said with a large smile. He set a pen in front of her.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, not finding his humor funny. She quickly signed her name and watched him stamp a blank page. Darby continued through, realizing she’d just survived her first customs.
People hurried around her, some toward families for excited reunions. Other people waited near walls, eyes searching the crowd, with names written on papers. She thought of the six thousand miles separating her from anyone who would race to enter her arms.
The Austria of Grandma Celia’s romantic and adventurous stories was not the Austria she
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