All told, though Daisy hated to admit it, Hannah was smarter, prettier, easier to get along with, and far more goal-oriented than she was, and she demonstrated kindness, compassion, and professionalism, which were attributes that Daisy simply did not possess.
How Daisy hated to admit that Hannah surpassed her in these regards. But she had no problem admitting that she hated Hannah herself because of it. She resented her for how quickly she’d fallen into Mrs. Thomas’s good graces. Sure enough, she feared that Hannah was being groomed for a more prestigious position in the bakery, which Daisy hoped she would one day assume.
But, despite all of the ways Hannah seemed “better” than she, Daisy had one small consolation. Hannah might have had a good spirit and good character, but she was poor. Her mother was a widow who worked as a housemaid during the day and cared for her young son at night—and, between her salary and Hannah’s, the two of them were barely able to make ends meet.
So, when Daisy heard the well-dressed customer tell Hannah to keep the change, something clicked inside of Daisy’s slow-witted brain, and she came up with a plan to show her coworker, once and for all, who really mattered here at the bakery.
Daisy walked out of the doorway just as Hannah finished counting out the gratuity she’d been given. She looked over at the other girl as Hannah put the money in her pocket and grinned.
“I’m off to deliver these buns to the church,” Daisy said, beaming in return. “I hope you have a lovely afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Hannah replied. “I hope you do, too.”
Hannah watched curiously as Daisy left the bakery. It wasn’t like Daisy to say kind words to her or smile at her, and Hannah couldn’t help but wonder why she’d chosen to do so today.
No bother. Hannah shrugged off the brief encounter and went back to work. She figured it was a waste of time to dwell on such things. Although, if she’d known what was to happen the next morning, she might have given it a second thought.
TWO
The next day, Hannah made her way to work, cheery as ever and eager to start her day. Ever since she was a child, she’d dreamed of becoming a baker and someday owning her own shop, and, for the past six months, she’d felt very blessed to be making actual progress toward that goal.
But this particular day was unlike any other that Hannah had experienced in her six months of employment. When she arrived at the bakery, things were off-kilter and a bit strange. At the start of the work day, Mrs. Thomas was typically back in the kitchen, and Daisy was usually off in a corner somewhere, shoving day-old pastries into her mouth. But today, neither of them were doing as they normally did. As Hannah approached the bakery, she could see them both standing at the front of the store, near the register, with sour expressions on their faces.
“Good morning!” Hannah sang out when she walked into the shop, hoping to change their moods.
“I can’t say that it is,” Mrs. Thomas replied, unmoved. The older woman stepped away from the counter, closer to Hannah, and stared down at her from her superior height. “I need to talk to you about something,” she told her employee in a very serious tone.
“All right,” Hannah agreed, feeling nervous and concerned. She’d never had Mrs. Thomas speak to her so coldly before.
“Yesterday, at the close of business,” Mrs. Thomas stated sternly, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “I collected the money from the register, as I usually do. Upon counting it, I found it a bit short. I recounted it and compared it against the list of items we’d sold, and I confirmed that, indeed, it was short.”
“Oh, my,” Hannah remarked, raising her eyebrows in shock. “I don’t know how—”
“I approached Daisy shortly thereafter, to ask if she had happened to borrow any money without alerting me first,” Mrs. Thomas interrupted. “But Daisy said she had not, and she proceeded to tell me that she saw you taking money from the register and placing it in your pocket yesterday afternoon… Is this true, Hannah? Did you take money from the register?”
Hannah’s heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she felt lightheaded and confused. “Well, yes. Yes, I did take money from the register. But—” she started to explain, trying to search for the appropriate words.
“Ah! Heavens be!” Mrs. Thomas exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think that a diligent, skilled worker such as yourself could do such a thing!”
“You don’t understand,” Hannah quickly retorted, trying to save face. “I did take money from the drawer. But the money was mine. A customer told me to keep her change, as a gratuity for my service.”
Mrs. Thomas brought her arms back down and crossed them in front of her chest again. Receiving a gratuity, or “tip” as it was sometimes called, was not common in her line of work, and she was hard-pressed to believe that any customer would so willingly part with their hard-earned money in the course of an ordinary transaction. But still, she had been impressed by Hannah’s performance and character up to this point, so she decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt.
“A gratuity?” Mrs. Thomas asked, tilting her head to the side to appraise the frightened expression on Hannah’s face. “Well, if you received a gratuity, perhaps you calculated it wrong and removed the wrong sum.”
The frightened look on Hannah’s face faded a bit. But it returned a moment later, when Mrs. Thomas went on.
“Of course, given the circumstances,” the shop owner added, “I can’t just take your word for it. So, tell me the name of the customer who gave you the gratuity, and I shall seek her out and confirm your story.”
Hannah’s heart raced again. “I don’t know her name,” she said with a frown.
“Well then, tell me what she looks like, and I’ll ask around in order to identify and find her,” Mrs. Thomas persisted.
Hannah took a deep breath and bowed her head, then lifted it again to look her boss straight in the eye. “You won’t find her here in Baltimore,” she replied in a sad, yet sincere, voice. “She and her husband were only passing through. They left on a train headed for New York last night.”
Mrs. Thomas stared back at Hannah. More than anything, she wanted to believe the girl.
“How convenient,” Daisy interjected, walking over to her mother’s side. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, mirroring her mama, and went on. “How convenient, indeed. The woman you claim gave you a gratuity just happened to be just passing through, and she just happened to be leaving on a train last night. And she just happens to not be here today to confirm or deny your claim… It all sounds like hogwash to me.”
“But you had to have seen her,” Hannah retorted, turning her attention to Daisy. “I waited on her just before you left to take the sack of buns to the church… You had to have seen her on your way out, and surely you can confirm that she wasn’t a regular customer and appeared to be a stranger.”
“I didn’t see you waiting on any customer before leaving,” Daisy lied. “I was too busy tending to my own work to pay attention to yours. So, I can confirm nothing about this woman you say you served… All that I can confirm is that I saw you pocketing money from the register.”
Hannah looked away from Daisy and back to Mrs. Thomas again. “This is all a misunderstanding,” she said plaintively. “But please, give me the chance to make things right. If it’s a matter of the money, I’ll gladly give you the gratuity the woman gave me, so as to ensure the register tallies up.”
“It’s not a matter of the money,” Mrs. Thomas sighed. “It’s a matter of trust.”
Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but she was at a loss for words.
“I must agree with my daughter here,” Mrs. Thomas continued. “Your story does seem awfully convenient, and it makes me question your honesty in this matter… But the fact remains that our drawer came up short, and my daughter saw you taking money from it. And, what’s more, you admitted that you did. It seems you’ve been caught red-handed, and I can’t accept the
weak explanation you gave.
“Though it greatly pains me to do so, I must let you go. I’d had such great hopes for you, you know. But in light of all this, those hopes are now gone. I cannot employ someone who pilfers my profits, no matter how pleasant and skilled they seem.”
Hannah’s racing heart sank to the pit of her stomach, and she was on the verge of tears. “You mean—” she started, before Mrs. Thomas cut her off.
“You’re fired, Hannah,” Mrs. Thomas stated, turning her back on the girl. “Please leave.”
There was so much that Hannah wanted to say. But she realized that her words would be futile. With the “evidence” stacked up against her and the absence of her benefactor, she knew she’d only be arguing a moot point.
So, with that, Hannah bowed her head again and walked out of Mrs. Thomas’s bakery for the last time. Once she was outside, she gazed through the window for one more glimpse of the workplace she’d come to cherish so much—and, when she did, she saw Daisy staring back out at her. Her former coworker was smiling at her again, only this time, she wore an even bigger grin.
THREE
“Of course I believe you,” Mrs. Howell told her crying daughter. “I know you’re not capable of such a heinous act.”
Hannah and her mother were sitting at the kitchen table in their home. It was several hours after the unfortunate incident at the bakery, and Hannah’s mother had been home from work for only a short time. Hannah had just finished telling her about the “misunderstanding” that had caused her to lose her job.
“Pity Mrs. Thomas doesn’t share your opinion,” Hannah wept. “I’d think that, by now, she’d know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t steal.”
“Well,” Mrs. Howell hedged, “you must consider the position your boss was in. You and Daisy were her only employees, remember—and Daisy is her daughter. I never cared much for the girl, and I think she fosters some ill feelings toward you, but I can see why Mrs. Thomas took her word over yours.
“I’m not saying it’s right, by any means, but there are a good many parents out there who think their children are infallible and, despite signs indicating otherwise, can do no wrong.”
Hannah wiped the tears from her eyes and looked into her mother’s eyes. “Is that how you feel?” she asked. “Do you believe my word because you think I am infallible and can do no wrong?”
Mrs. Howell laughed gently and smiled. “Not at all, my child,” she replied. “I know you are not infallible. I raised you, after all, and I’m quite aware that you have bent certain rules from time to time. But, that said, I know that there are some rules you have not bent and are not prone to break.
“I know that you respect others’ property and do not take what is not yours. So, if you say that an unfamiliar woman gave you a gratuity, and that you took only the amount of that gratuity from Mrs. Thomas’s drawer, then I believe that that’s what happened.”
Hannah smiled at her mother’s honesty, which was a virtue they shared. “Thank you, Mother,” she said softly. “I appreciate your faith and trust in me. But sadly, that won’t get me back my job.”
“Get another, then,” Mrs. Howell suggested, standing up from the table and walking toward the counter behind her. It was nearing evening, and she needed to work on dinner.
“There are two other bakeries in Baltimore,” Mrs. Howell went on. “They may not be as fine as Mrs. Thomas’s, but they are bakeries nonetheless. I’m sure they’d love to have someone with your skill, experience, and passion in their kitchens. And perhaps, in time, you can help them parallel Mrs. Thomas’s success.”
Hannah stood up, walked over to her mother, and started helping her prepare their forthcoming meal.
“I’ll go into town tomorrow and apply at the bakeries,” she agreed, expertly slicing a yam. “And I’ll put all of this ugliness with Mrs. Thomas behind me,” she added. “I can’t let one misunderstanding destroy my dream.”
“That’s my girl!” Mrs. Howell sang out, patting her daughter on the back. “I’m sure that, by this time tomorrow, you’ll have a new job and be right back on track.”
Hannah smiled lovingly at her mother, and the two women went on to make a delightful, albeit humble, supper, which they thoroughly enjoyed, along with Hannah’s thirteen-year-old brother Jason.
After dinner, Hannah helped Jason with his schoolwork and played several riveting rounds of tic-tac-toe with him, including a few that she let him win. When nighttime rolled around, Hannah completed her usual household chores, and then readied herself for bed.
Before turning in for the night, Hannah knelt down at the side of her bed and prayed to her Heavenly Father. She thanked Him for her many blessings and asked him to watch over her and her family. She also asked Him to forgive Mrs. Thomas for placing blame on the wrong person, as well as to forgive Daisy for whatever her involvement was in the whole mess.
Hannah closed her prayer by asking God to grant her favor the next day. “If it is Thy Will, my Father, please help me acquire a job tomorrow, so that I may continue to help support my mother and brother in these tough, trying times and further pursue my dream of becoming a baker.”
A few moments later, Hannah was lying comfortably in her bed—and, in no time at all, she was fast asleep.
FOUR
The next morning, Hannah woke up refreshed, determined, and cheerful. She was still upset about what had happened at Mrs. Thomas’s bakery, of course, but she was resolved to move past it, get a new job, and continue on with her life.
Hannah took a little extra time getting ready that morning, just to make sure she looked her best. She combed her hair slowly and tied it back in a tight ponytail that framed the delicate, kind features of her face, and she put on freshly laundered garments, the likes of which she normally wore to church. She figured she had only one chance to make a first impression on her potential employers, and she wanted it to be a good one.
Once Hannah was ready, she set out to the first of the other two bakeries in town. Along the way, she saw several people she knew, but, other than exchanging basic pleasantries, she didn’t stop to talk with anyone—nor did anyone stop to talk with her. Under normal circumstances, this would have been out of the ordinary. But today, it was not, because Hannah was on a mission and would not allow herself to be sidetracked.
As she drew near to the first bakery, she smiled brightly. There was a “Help Wanted” sign in the front window, and she was sure that, once she met with the owner of the shop, the sign would no longer be there.
“Greetings,” a plump middle-aged woman said from behind the counter as soon as Hannah walked in. “How may I help you today?”
“I’m here to apply for a job,” Hannah answered, standing tall and proud.
“Ah, your timing is perfect,” the woman replied with a broad smile. “We’re looking to hire someone, you know.”
“Indeed,” Hannah smiled back. “I saw the sign in the window.”
“I just put it up yesterday,” the woman told her, holding out her hand. “My name is Mrs. Evans. I am the chief baker and owner of this shop.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hannah returned, taking Mrs. Evans’s hand and shaking it. “My name is Hannah Howell, and I’m sure you’ll find—”
“Did you say ‘Hannah Howell’?” Mrs. Evans asked, interrupting Hannah and pulling her hand away abruptly.
“Yes,” Hannah answered, trying not to appear shocked at the woman’s response.
“Oh,” Mrs. Evans said, bowing her head and averting her eyes. “I’m sorry, Miss Howell, but the position is already filled.”
“What?” Hannah asked, very confused. “You just said you were looking to hire someone, and the sign is still up in the window.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Evans replied, shaking her head. “My apologies. It’s still quite early in the morning, and I haven’t come to my senses just yet. I forgot that my husband hired someone just last night.”
“I see,” Hannah frowned. “Very well.�
� She turned to leave the store, but then turned back again. “I have a great deal of baking experience,” she added as a last-ditch effort. “I’ve been baking since I was a child, and I’ve accumulated six months of professional baking experience at—”
“The position is already filled,” Mrs. Evans repeated. “I’m sorry… Now, good day.”
Mrs. Evans turned away from the counter and started rearranging some of the baked goods on her shelves. Hannah knew better than to say or do anything else, so she turned around again and walked out of the store.
As she headed away from Mrs. Evans’s bakery and began her journey toward the next, she pondered what she’d just experienced. The sudden shift in Mrs. Evans’s attitude and the way she had looked away from Hannah—not to mention how “forgetful” she was—seemed quite strange.
But, odd as the experience seemed, Hannah did not let it deter her. If anything, she allowed herself to learn from it and decided to approach things a bit differently at the next shop.
When she arrived at the next bakery, she shrugged off any lingering concerns she had and walked into the place with her head held high.
“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya’,” said an old man carrying a tray of tarts. He had a thick Irish accent and a very gentle face. “Welcome to O’Leary’s Bakery. I’m Mr. O’Leary. What can I get for you today? Some tarts, perhaps? These just came out of the oven.”
“I’m not here to buy anything,” Hannah replied with a sweet smile. “I’m here looking for a job. I’m a very experienced baker, and I could use my skill and talent to bring your wonderful bakery even more business and acclaim.”
New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set Page 46
