She glanced at the clock again. Twelve more minutes.
“The clock goes faster if you don’t keep watching it.” Mr. Bryant didn’t even look up from his desk as he made the comment.
Annabelle nodded. “I’ll get back to work,” she said, leaning over the wheat kernels.
“Do you suppose they’ll mention your name in the article?” Horace asked.
“I certainly hope not!”
Horace and Mr. Bryant knew about the pending article. They’d been fully supportive of Annabelle’s participation in recruitingGood Housekeepingto help sound the alarm about food adulteration, but that didn’t mean she wanted any personal attention.
“Why not?” Horace pressed. “How often do government bureaucrats get a chance to shine in the spotlight?”
“If a spotlight ever shines my way, I’ll run for cover.”
“Not me,” Horace said. “Did you read about the daughter of the Attorney General? I heard shepaidto have a rumor started that she is being courted by the Russian ambassador. It’s all part of a ploy to launch her stage career. You see? There’s no such thing as bad gossip.”
Their supervisor’s dry voice cut through Horace’s delight. “Mr. Greenfield, the government is not paying you to gossip about the Attorney General’s daughter.”
“Pity.” Horace sighed and turned his attention back to his microscope.
Annabelle glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes.
“Take off early,” Mr. Bryant said.
She sucked in a quick breath. “Really?” It was so unlike the staid Mr. Bryant, but he actually managed to crack a bit of a smile.
“You’re completely useless to us while your mind is on that article. Go out and get your magazine.”
“Thank you!” she said as she dashed out the door.
Her footsteps echoed in the cavernous stairwell as she bounded downstairs, then hiked up her skirts to run toward the nearest newsstand at the corner of Independence and Twelfth Street. A stitch pinched her side, and she had to wiggle through a row of other people lined up at the kiosk. Sometimes she really hated being short.
“Do you have the newGood Housekeeping?” she shouted.
The vendor nodded and passed her the issue. She gave him a dollar and didn’t even wait for the change as she headed a few paces away, flipping to page nine. Her breath caught as she saw the headline.
Nation’s Largest Food Producer Dishing Up Dishonest Food
This was it! A full three pages long too! She skimmed the article, her eyes moving faster than her brain could read, but all the right words were here. Mrs. Sharpe had indeed sent up a clarion battle cry.
Annabelle was still walking on air as she headed to the Library of Congress to pick up Elaine, who was already waiting for her at the streetcar stop.
“It’s out!” Annabelle said as she joined Elaine on the bench.
“Is it good?” Elaine didn’t need to ask what Annabelle was talking about, for she’d been waiting almost a week for this issue to hit the streets.
“It’s beyond good. It’s perfect!”
She read the article aloud to Elaine. Everything was here, from the scientific test run inGood Housekeeping’sown laboratory on the “applesauce” that contained no apples, to the lack of listed ingredients and the inclusion of chemicals not yet proven safe for human consumption. They even includeda laudatory mention of the Department of Agriculture and their nascent efforts to ensure a pure food supply. Better still, the article never once mentioned her or Gray’s name, which was all to the good, for they were both private people, and this matter was too important for either of them to claim credit.
She would send a copy of this to her parents. On that frigid day when her parents had waved good-bye to them from a train station in the middle of Kansas, none of them could have imagined such important work, and it made her sit a little taller. Was this what pride felt like? She’d played only a tiny part in this accomplishment, but it suddenly felt like she could conquer the world.
Had Gray seen it yet?
Her smile dimmed, but only a little. She hadn’t seen Gray since that day in the Springfield train station, but she thought of him daily.
Today was a good day for both of them, even if they couldn’t share it together. Days this perfect didn’t come along very often, and she would choose to celebrate the joy rather than dwell on the sad. The world was a huge, wide-open landscape bursting with opportunity, and it was up to her to choose how she would live in it. God had blessed her with a sound mind and the freedom to make choices in life. It was a blessing she must not squander.
