Cassandra, apparently cowed by Mr. Hightower’s sternness, worked the rest of the day without even sending a glance in Daisy’s direction. The other girl’s silence suited Daisy. The lack of distraction gave Daisy an opportunity to think. And to pray.
The desire to pray baffled her. No matter how many times Ma and Pa Jonnson had encouraged her to share her concerns with God, Daisy had always resisted, never wanting to accept that a Father far away in heaven would care about her any more than the one she had wandering on the earth somewhere. But during the remainder of Saturday, waiting for Mr. Hightower’s decision, Daisy prayed with a fervency that made her chest feel as though her heart had doubled in size. Let Robby keep his job here, dear God. Don’t let Mr. Hightower release Robby … And, equally baffling, offering the prayer gave her a measure of comfort.
The shift-change buzzer blared at 3:00. Time to hear Mr. Hightower’s verdict concerning their employment. Daisy shot Cassandra a nervous look. Cassandra turned her full lips into a pout and scurried off in the direction of the loft staircase. Daisy started to follow, but she heard Robby call, “Daisy, wait up.” He approached in his usual, unhurried gait as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His casual demeanor removed a small amount of Daisy’s trepidation, but as they walked side by side in their matching strides toward the stairway leading to Mr. Hightower’s loft office, the worry crept back over her until her entire body quivered in apprehension.
At the base of the stairs, Robby touched her hand and offered a reassuring smile. “No worryin’ now, Daisy. Whatever happens, God’ll take care of us. He made a promise in Philippians 4, verse 19—‘But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.’ Remember?”
An unexpected mantle of peace settled around Daisy as she recalled the scripture often quoted by Ma Jonnson when things seemed bleak at the asylum. And never, not one time, had the orphans gone without food or adequate shelter. She smiled—a genuine smile—and nodded. “I remember.”
“Then trust,” Robby whispered, and he gestured her up the stairs.
Chapter 12
Daisy stood in front of Mr. Hightower’s desk between Robby and Cassandra, holding herself as erect as Robby did. Cassandra, apparently robbed of the confidence and disdain she’d displayed from Daisy’s very first day in Sinclair, fidgeted in place and chewed her thumbnail. Daisy almost felt sorry for the girl while they waited for Mr. Hightower to complete whatever notes he was scribbling on a large pad and to acknowledge their presence.
Finally the man slapped the notepad upside down and sent a dissatisfied look across the three waiting workers. “First of all,” he said, leaning back in his chair and linking his fingers over his vest, “I have valid reasons to send you out the door. Without exception, you have broken portions of the employment contract to which you pledged obedience.”
Daisy determinedly kept her eyes fixed on Mr. Hightower’s stern face rather than glancing right or left. Nervousness pulsated from Cassandra, but only calm acceptance seeped from Robby. She unconsciously leaned toward him, appreciative of his quiet strength.
Mr. Hightower aimed his glare at Robby. “Mr. Miller, you’ve been employed here for a year, and I’ve not found cause to criticize you until today’s costly fiasco. It is apparent, despite Miss Forrester’s erroneous claims concerning your status as her beau, that you do harbor feelings of affection for her and, therefore, will undoubtedly continue to seek her attention.”
“Yes, sir, I probably will. She’s my girl, and she always will be.”
Robby’s bold statement sent waves of joy through Daisy’s center. She bit the insides of her cheeks to hold back a smile of delight. He’d called her his girl! Oh, such a glorious reckoning.
“Miss Forrester.”
She gave a jolt and focused on Mr. Hightower, who now glowered at her. “Yes, sir?”
“You’ve been employed here a very short time, but I’ve been watching you.”
He had? She swallowed, disconcerted by this new knowledge.
“You are a consistent worker, never shirking in your duties. I suspect today’s calamity would not have occurred if not for the actions of Mr. Miller and Miss Hooper.” He jammed a pay envelope across his desk toward Daisy. She hugged it to her ribs as the manager said, “Therefore, you may depart with a verbal warning to exercise caution in the future.”
Confused, Daisy remained in place until the manager barked, “I said you may depart!” She gave a brief curtsy of acknowledgment, then scurried to the hallway, but she couldn’t make herself leave until she knew Robby’s and Cassandra’s fates. Sliding onto the bench just outside the door, she tipped her ear to the open doorway and listened, her heart thudding.
“Miss Hooper, I’ve also observed you over your months of employment.” Mr. Hightower’s derisive voice carried clearly to the hall. “To be frank, your work ethic is not as diligent as Mr. Fulton Dinsmore prefers for workers at Dinsmore’s World-Famous Chocolates Factory. I suspect you sought a job here for the sole purpose of landing the affection of one of the male workers. After today’s display of childish jealousy, which resulted in a grievous loss of merchandise for Mr. Dinsmore, I cannot find sound reason to keep you as an employee.”
Daisy sucked in a sharp breath as Mr. Hightower stated over Cassandra’s protesting wails, “Miss Hooper, I have deducted half of today’s loss from your pay, and this will be your final wage from Dinsmore’s. You are hereby released from duty.”
The pounding of feet startled Daisy into jerking upright. Cassandra burst from the office, tears rolling down her face. She sent a brief, scathing look at Daisy before rushing down the stairs, her wails echoing from the enclosed stairway and finally fading away. Daisy gulped and clasped her hands. Would Robby meet the same fate as Cassandra?
“Mr. Miller …”
Daisy held her breath. Please, God. Please, God …
“I’m loath to lose an employee who, until today, has exhibited an exemplary work ethic. Thus, rather than dismissing you from duty, I am moving you to second shift where your focus can be on your job rather than on your sweetheart.”
Your sweetheart … Daisy’s breath eased out on a happy sigh.
“Plan to begin your new shift position on Monday, and your pay envelope today will show a significant deduction as a result of today’s loss.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Although his voice was strong, Daisy read relief in Robby’s tone. She rose and met him as he exited the door. The moment he stepped into the hallway, he swept her into a hug. Nothing, ever, had been as welcome as his arms closing around her. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, content in his embrace.
But then questions filled her mind, forcing her to take a step back and pin a seeking look on him. “Robby … why?”
His tipped his head. “Why what?”
She gathered her courage. “Why did you choose me?” She sent a glance toward the stairway where Cassandra had disappeared, envisioning the girl’s feminine prettiness and dainty form. Did Robby care for her only out of pity? She had to know the truth. “I’ll never be petite or have long, flowing hair. I’ll never be”—she swallowed, pain stabbing anew—“pretty. Are you sure I’m enough?”
A slow smile grew on his dear face. He lifted one hand and traced his finger along Daisy’s jaw. The gentle touch raised the sting of tears. “Silly girl … Haven’t you figured out by now I love you the same way God does—just the way you are? You don’t have to be shorter or have different hair or a prettier face for me to love you. I love you for you. I always have. I always will.”
In that moment too many emotions for Daisy to sort rolled through her. Recognitions about God, about Robby, even about Ma and Pa Jonnson clamored for full examination, and she would examine each of them in prayer later. But for now she only wanted to verify one thing.
She placed her hands lightly against Robby’s chest. At once he slipped his hands around her waist. Smiling into his face, she said tremulously,
“Is it all right if I give up on those plans to go to California? I think I’d rather stay here in Sinclair. With you.”
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Daisy—my dear, silly, precious Daisy …” He planted a kiss on the end of her nose, then drew her snugly into his embrace. “I would never have let you go.”
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Just as I Am Page 6
