The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,80
in life. She would forget herself and go to work.
“Mama.” Lonnie tugged at Dolly’s skirt. “What would the mission do without me?”
Dolly held back a laugh and gave the question serious consideration. “I don’t know what the mission would do,” she told the bright-eyed girl. Pulling Lonnie close, Dolly added, “But I know I couldn’t do without you.”
“It’s my turn to stand by Mama,” Jiao said.
Lonnie reluctantly moved over, and Dolly smiled. Jiao hadn’t forgotten her mother, Hong Leen, but that didn’t stop her from calling Dolly mama. Dolly wrapped an arm about Jiao’s shoulders, and the girl leaned her sun-warmed head against Dolly’s hip.
“How long until we get there, Mama?” Lonnie asked.
“Very soon,” Dolly said for the benefit of all the girls.
Dolly felt the watchful eyes of the other passengers upon her and her little troupe, but she didn’t mind. It might be unusual to see a white woman with a group of Chinese girls, all of whom called her mama, but Dolly only smiled when inquisitive glances were sent her way.
As they neared Oakland, Lonnie pointed to the harbor. Beyond, trees interspersed with buildings and homes followed the curve of the hills. “There it is.”
“You remembered.” Dolly ran her hand over Lonnie’s braid. “What should we do first?”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” someone said behind her.
Dolly turned to see a middle-aged woman wearing a lavender hat set upon her elaborate pompadour. Her clothing was cut in a stylish fashion that told Dolly she was likely a tourist from the East. The woman’s blue eyes were curious. “Are all of these little girls yours?”
Her tone wasn’t spiteful in the least, but Dolly was sure this question was on everyone’s minds on the ferry, at least among those who were close enough to overhear the group.
“Yes, they are,” Dolly said.
The woman glanced at the upturned faces of the girls, who had heard the interchange. The woman touched a hand to her throat. “All of them?” she asked in a quieter voice.
“All of them,” Dolly clarified, and she shared a smile with Lonnie, who grasped her hand as if to claim her mama.
The woman’s brows rose. “You . . . are so young to . . .” Her words cut off, and she gave Dolly a tremulous smile. “Well.” She turned then and walked to her seat.
Dolly reclaimed her place at the rail, surrounded on both sides by her Chinese daughters. At that moment, she knew, despite blood or skin color, these girls were her own. And she was a mother after all.
The breeze dried her tears before they could spill, and her heart soared with the escaping seagulls as they neared Oakland.
Today would be a joyous day, and tonight, she would likely have an answer from the board about her future. Tomorrow, Dolly would begin the transition.
She didn’t sleep that night—couldn’t. The board had agreed to meet with her the following afternoon, and Dolly had gone through a list of names in her mind of people who could assume the majority of her current duties.
Frances P. Thompson was at the top of the list. As a frequent volunteer at the mission home, Frances had proved trustworthy, and the girls were fond of her.
By the time the birds were chattering outside her window with dawn’s arrival, Dolly was already up and dressed. She had penned a note to Frances, and as Dolly opened her bedroom door, she was met with the sight of one of the girls curled up on the floor, sound asleep.
Dolly crouched down and tapped the girl’s arm. “Lonnie,” she whispered. “What are you doing on the floor?”
Lonnie opened her dark eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.”
Dolly held back a chuckle. “Couldn’t it have waited until the sun was up?”
At that moment, Lonnie yawned, then she rose and snuggled against Dolly. “We need to give you a Chinese name.”
“Oh?” Dolly pulled the girl into her arms and breathed in Lonnie’s sleepy warm scent.
Lonnie yawned again. “We will call you Lo Mo.”
Dolly tightened her hold. Kum Quai had called her Lo Mo, and now with Lonnie saying it too, Dolly had never been so honored in her life.
“Whatever you wish, Yoke Lon,” Dolly said in a tremulous voice, using the girl’s Chinese name.
Lonnie’s smile was huge.
“Now, let’s get you back to bed,” Dolly said. “Today is an important day, and you need your rest.”
“Why is it important?” Lonnie asked.
Dolly held back a secret smile and drew the girl up by her dainty hand. “You will find out this afternoon.”