The Paper Daughters of Chinatown

by Heather B. Moore

  “You know I love you, Doll,” Jessie continued. “But I also worry about you. You’re in your thirties. Don’t you think it’s time to consider your own future? Yes, you’re a godsend to those little girls, but . . .”

  Dolly had heard the arguments and persuasions from her sister before. But the truth was, Dolly would love a short break. The responsibilities of running the mission home, the constant pressure and legal troubles from the tong, in addition to the crippling emotional weight she was sagging beneath, made her less present than she should be. Plus, she missed her darling niece, Caroline.

  “All right, Jessie,” Dolly said. “I’ll come next weekend. Tell Caroline to expect a hundred kisses from Aunt Dowey.”

  Dolly wasn’t even sure her sister heard that last part because she was squealing so loudly. Dolly laughed, and this time it was genuine. She would have just enough time to make Caroline a present. Perhaps a summer dress—she had recently acquired some beautiful white organdy.

  She set down the phone receiver, and the door to the office cracked open. Dolly knew instinctively that it was Tien. The young woman rarely knocked, and she continued in her habits of listening to everything going on in the mission home. Which Dolly had found quite useful now that they were working together. Tien reported on happenings that Frances missed—when a girl hadn’t come out of her room all day, or when an argument broke out or someone stole from another person in the house, or even when one young woman had tried to harm herself last week.

  Tien immediately brought any and all news to Dolly, and she was ever grateful for it.

  “You are leaving?” Tien hovered in the doorway, her gaze unsure, her shoulders hunched.

  “Only for a few days,” Dolly said. “I’m going to visit my sister Jessie and her family.”

  Tien nodded, but Dolly didn’t miss the longing in her eyes. She still wasn’t quite used to this new side of Tien.

  “Miss Thompson will watch over things while I’m gone,” Dolly continued, hoping to reassure. Who would have thought the young woman would miss her? “And I’ll give her Jessie’s telephone number. If you need something, you can call me.”

  Tien’s gaze dropped as if she were embarrassed to be so needy.

  Dolly walked around the desk and crossed to her. She rested a hand on Tien’s shoulder. “Can you be my eyes and ears while I’m gone?”

  Tien’s dark eyes flitted upward, and she nodded.

  “Thank you,” Dolly said.

  With Frances Thompson’s fervent promise that all would be well, Dolly packed for her weekend visit to the small town of Alhambra, near Pasadena. As she packed, she thought of the changes in Tien since Yuen Qui’s death.

  Tien had done an almost 180-degree turn in her personality. She had become like a shadow to Dolly, much as she’d been to Yuen Qui. Tien had begged to join Dolly on a rescue and be the interpreter. Dolly had brought her on a rescue, then another, and another. Tien was proving to be clever and fierce. She had already persuaded more than one of the more reluctant rescued girls that Dolly wasn’t a white devil who would bring generations of cursing upon their heads, but someone to be trusted.

  Yet Dolly knew she needed a complete break from the mission home for a few days. So she would travel on her own.

  Finally, the day arrived, and when the mountain peaks of the Sierra Madres came into view, Dolly felt some of the burdens lifted for the first time in months, perhaps years. She knew the break would be temporary, but for now, she would relish in the sweet balm.

  The moment Dolly walked into Jessie’s lovely home, Caroline ran to her.

  “You came, Aunt Dowey.” Caroline’s bright eyes peered up at Dolly. “You really came.”

  “I’m here, sweetheart.” Dolly stooped to pull the young girl into her arms. “I brought you a special present, too.”

  Caroline jumped up and down in Dolly’s arms, and she laughed at the little girl’s enthusiasm. “Come with me to my room, and I’ll unpack it from my trunk.”

  Jessie followed with a wide smile, and everyone crowded around the bed as Dolly ceremoniously opened the trunk and produced a white organdy dress.

  Caroline clapped her hands together, then threw her arms about Dolly. “Can I wear it to church tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” Dolly said.

  When Caroline scampered off with the dress, Dolly turned to Jessie. She found her sister observing with a soft smile.

  “Thank you for the dress,” Jessie said. “It means the world to her, and I’m sure you made a lot of sacrifices to find the time to make it.”

  Dolly lifted a shoulder. “Love is always worth the time.”

  “Oh, Doll.” Jessie stepped forward, and the two women embraced. When they drew apart, she added, “You also look tired. Do you want to rest before dinner?”

  Jessie couldn’t have said anything more perfect.

  “I’d like that very much.” Dolly spent the next couple of hours luxuriating in the quiet and peace, and when the smells of cooking dinner made her stomach grumble with impatience, only then did she venture out of the guest bedroom.

  She found her brother-in-law Charlie in the front room with the newspaper. When he spotted Dolly, he immediately leapt to his feet and greeted her. “How was your journey, sis?”

  “Excellent,” Dolly answered. “Thank you for opening your home to me.”

  “Anytime.” Charlie’s brows pinched together. “And I truly mean it.”

  Dolly knew there was much more meaning behind those words. Her family members hadn’t held back their concerns about her unending work at the mission home.

  “Caroline is enchanted with your gift,” Charlie added. “Have a seat. I am sure you’re exhausted.”

  “I’ve been resting long enough,” Dolly said. “I think I’ll go see what I can help Jessie with.”

  Charlie shook his head, but his blue eyes were filled with warmth.

  When Dolly joined her sister in the kitchen, she marveled at the meal Jessie had put together of baked chicken, vegetables, and rice. Dolly was used to mass food preparation, but here, in Jessie’s home, the place seemed peaceful. A husband, a wife, a daughter. A quiet meal together in the evenings. And so much love.

  Although the atmosphere at the mission home was different, love still reigned. The busyness and chaos might be ever-present, but Dolly loved the place. And right now, despite everything, she missed San Francisco. She put that out of her mind and decided to be a cheerful guest in her sister’s home.

  “Smells wonderful,” Dolly said.

  “You’re up?” Jessie turned, her look expectant.

  “I’m up, and thank you for the rest,” Dolly said. “Now I need to get my lazy bones moving again. Give me an assignment.”

  Jessie laughed. Soon the two women had finished the meal preparations, and as Dolly and Caroline set the table and carried the food in, Jessie called for Charlie to join them.

  Once they were seated around the abundant table, Charlie asked Dolly to say grace over the meal.

  As Dolly prayed, her heart overflowed with gratitude. Despite her losses in life, she was still surrounded by love. Focusing on her blessings brought her the greater joy. Spending time with her family was wonderful and interacting with Caroline a delight. Dolly wished that every young person could grow up like Caroline, in a loving and safe home. Even now, as Dolly basked in her family, she worried about her Chinese daughters.

  Partway through the meal, Jessie said, “We’ve been invited to the Bazatases’ tomorrow night for dinner.”

  Dolly quirked her mouth. “Really. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Ben’s a wonderful man, Doll,” Jessie said.

  “That he is,” Charlie added in a knowing tone.

  “Why do I feel like I’m being ganged up on?” Dolly asked with a smile. She was over thirty now, well past the age most women married. And h
er sisters wouldn’t let her forget it, subtle as they tried to be.

  “I don’t know why you feel that way.” Jessie raised her very innocent brows. “It’s only dinner.”

  Dolly laughed. “All right. Dinner never hurt anyone.”

  But when Dolly stepped into the church building the next morning with Caroline’s small hand clutched in hers, Jessie and Charlie walking arm in arm a few feet ahead, Dolly sensed the speculation buzzing in people’s minds. They didn’t even need to say a word for Dolly to know that everyone was hoping she and Ben would come to a meeting of the hearts.

  She saw him immediately, of course, at the head of the chapel. His dark hair and steady blue eyes were familiar to her, and she felt a fondness when their gazes connected. But there was no spark, no sense of urgency or beginnings of pining for more time and conversation with him.

  Yes, Ben was a charming man, solid in his religious beliefs, who insisted on seeing the good in every situation. He was also a gentleman to the ladies, and he took care of his widowed mother and two younger sisters. Dolly took her seat with her family, settling in to hear the sermon. As Ben’s rich baritone voice filled the chapel, the birds outside the open windows seemed to twitter in response.

  She had the distinct impression that this town was Ben’s domain, these people were his people, and any wife of his would be integrated into his world. Regardless, Dolly listened to the sermon with appreciation. But her life was not here in this small town. Her life, and her heart, were miles away in the mission home, surrounded by her Chinese daughters. To change her relationship with Ben into something more than friendship wasn’t something she could desire.

  The peaceful confirmation about her choices came slow and sweet as the sun’s rays filled the chapel with soft light. The day couldn’t have been more perfect, and of course Dolly wished that her Chinese girls could bask in such a beautiful building as well.

  Once church services ended, Dolly became caught up in chatting with several of the ladies. Some she had met before, and some she had only heard of through Jessie. Soon, the family headed to the Bazatas home for dinner.

  At the door of their home, Dolly embraced Mrs. Bazatas. Dolly didn’t know her well, but Jessie had shared many stories of the family. Each time Dolly visited Jessie, she encountered Mrs. Bazatas at least once and had a nice visit.

  “It’s wonderful to see you again, Donaldina,” Mrs. Bazatas said, her usual knot of worry between her brows.

  It was as if Dolly could feel the hope running through the older woman.

  Dinner was served, and, not surprisingly, Dolly found herself seated next to Ben. “How are you, Ben?”

  Ben grinned his friendly smile, his light eyes a contrast to his darker hair. He had aged a little since the last time she’d seen him, as she had herself. A few silver hairs graced his temples, and his jawline had softened. “Excellent. It’s great to see you, Donaldina.”

  His smile did nothing to Dolly’s heart. He felt more like a brother than a potential beau. He was always kind, always cheerful, always friendly. But it was the same for every person he interacted with.

  “I enjoyed your sermon,” she said. “Especially the part of—”

  “Charles!” Mrs. Bazatas said.

  Dolly looked over at the dining room entrance to see a tall, broad-shouldered man. He swept off his hat, revealing wavy, blond hair. As he smoothed his fingers through his hair, Dolly decided that although his blond hair was in sharp contrast to Ben’s darker hair, there was no question that the two men were related. This must be his brother. Her mind raced to piece together any information she had heard about Charles before. All she could recall was that he had played football at the Occidental College in Los Angeles.

  The two Bazatas sisters, Anna and Aloisia, rose from their places to greet Charles with enthusiastic hugs. Charles laughed as he squeezed his sisters tightly. Next came his mother. Then the two brothers embraced, pounding each other’s backs.

  “We didn’t know you were coming,” his mother gushed. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring in an extra plate.”

  “Thank you.” Charles scanned the faces about the dining table. “I must admit, I’m starving.”

  His mother gave him a doting wink, then hurried from the room.

  “Charles,” Ben said, “I’d like you to meet the Bailey family, and their sister who is visiting, Donaldina Cameron.”

  When Charles’s green eyes landed on Dolly, she smiled, if only to cover the sudden fluttering inside her stomach. She didn’t even know much about this man; he could be married, for all she knew. But his very persona had caught her full attention.

  Charles came around the table and shook Dolly’s hand.

  How were his eyes so impossibly green? They reminded her of the leaves of a young apple tree. And his warm, strong handshake could be felt long after he’d moved on to greet her sister and brother-in-law.

  “Nice to meet you all.” Charles’s voice wasn’t quite as deep as his brother’s, but it had a nice low tone all the same.

  His smile was rather beautiful too. The man’s athletic grace and skilled conversation kept Dolly mesmerized the rest of the meal. When he turned his attention to her, it was as if she couldn’t look away from the depth of his dark green eyes. She wanted to ask him so many questions. She wanted to know everything about him. Charles Bazatas was wholly unexpected.

  Following dinner, the family moved onto the wide front porch to enjoy the cooling weather and the scented breeze coming off the apple orchard. Dolly wandered to the porch railing and gazed across the front yard. The setting sun’s rays had turned the sprawling grass and neat road leading away from the house a rich golden color.

  “I had never thought I would have the privilege to meet you, Donaldina.” Charles joined her at the railing. His smile was easy, his voice mellow. “My brother has shared more than one story about ‘Miss Cameron from San Francisco.’”

  Ben had talked about her to his brother? Her neck warmed, and it wasn’t only because of what he’d said—it was the way he studied her. As if he were truly interested in what she had to say, and as if they weren’t surrounded by other family members who could very well hear every word spoken.

  “Call me Dolly.” She rested her hands on the rail. “Everyone calls me that—well, at least most people.”

  “Most people?”

  How did he pick up on every single nuance? Charles was standing close to her—very close—or was she just that aware of him? And was he wearing cologne, or did he naturally smell like sunshine and leather combined?

  “The girls at the mission home call me Lo Mo.” The warmth of her neck spread upward, flushing her cheeks. She wondered if it would be rude to head inside the house for another glass of iced lemonade.

  “What does that mean?” Charles pressed.

  “Directly translated it means ‘old mother.’”

  Charles grinned. “Really?”

  She laughed at his reaction, and the warmth continued through her body, nearly reaching her heart. “It’s an endearment.”

  “To be sure.” Charles rested his hip against the porch railing so that they could see each other eye to eye. Folding his arms, he said, “You’re doing remarkable work, Dolly. Puts the rest of us to shame.”

  The way he’d said her name sent a new thrill through her. She really should call it a night and tell her sister she was ready to return home. But speaking to Charles felt so easy and natural that she found herself telling him stories of the Chinese girls along with women of other nationalities the mission had helped. Charles’s expression appeared truly intent, and he listened to every word.

  When she looked across the porch, it seemed that everyone had disappeared. Had she and Charles really been so involved in their conversation that she hadn’t seen the others leaving? Voices and laughter trickled from the house. Maybe they were having dessert? Charles noticed the
same thing.

  “Looks like we wore everyone else out,” he teased.

  Dolly swung her gaze back to his and found his green eyes had darkened in the fading light of the evening. “They’re tired of hearing my stories, I suppose.”

  Charles chuckled and lowered his arms, setting his hands on the railing. He crossed his legs. Dolly tried not to look at his elongated form and kept her gaze on the trees in the yard.

  “I doubt that anyone could tire of your stories,” Charles said, his voice lower and softer than before. “From what I’ve observed, every word you speak is interesting.”

  Dolly turned toward Charles, if only to add some distance between their bodies. Was he . . . flirting with her? Or was he usually this complimentary toward others?

  “And I’m sure you could fill pages and pages with your experiences, Dolly,” he continued. “I don’t profess to know a lot, but news of your mission home has reached even the corners of Los Angeles. Everyone knows about the Palo Alto case.”

  Dolly exhaled. “Yes, it was a nightmare.” Memories arose like shards in her mind. At the mention of the case against Kum Quai, her blood still simmered. She stepped away from Charles and walked to the top of the porch steps.

  Charles followed in a heartbeat, and he joined her at the top of the steps. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

  She blinked back the stinging in her eyes. “It’s all right,” she said. “When everything was happening, I wasn’t really considering any consequences, I was just determined to protect Kum Quai. I don’t mind talking about it, truly. In fact, the more it’s discussed and reported on, the better chance we have at changing the system and stopping more abductions.”

  “I agree.” Charles hesitated. “If you had known what the outcome would be, would you have gone through it again? I mean, you spent a night in jail, and you went up against dangerous men.”