The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,97
some of them shut down.”
“They won’t speak?”
“Correct,” Dolly said. “One of our girls, Yoke Hay, was rescued from a Chinese doctor who owned her. He had already sold an older servant girl to a house of ill fame in Fresno. So I got a warrant for Yoke Hay, and she appeared before a judge.”
Charles nodded for her to continue.
“Of course, in the courtroom, there sat the angry doctor and his wife, with all their friends.” Dolly exhaled. “Yoke Hay froze. She refused to repeat the story that she had told us through our interpreter. The judge was forced to return her to the man who had falsely claimed to be her father.”
Charles didn’t say anything for a moment, and Dolly’s emotions crept to the surface. Thankfully, the restaurant was nearly empty, and no one seemed to be paying them much attention.
“I’m sorry for Yoke Hay,” Charles said at last. His gaze filled with admiration as he squeezed her hand. “But your work is truly saving and changing lives. It’s amazing to think about, and it makes me want to do something different with my life. Something where I can be an instrument in helping other people.”
Dolly gave him a small smile. She had heard him talk about this before in his letters, and she half expected him to move to San Francisco and join the board of the mission home. But what he said next couldn’t have surprised her more.
“I’ve decided to enter the ministry like my brother,” Charles said.
She could only stare at his beaming face. “You’re leaving your job?”
“Yes, and I’ll be entering the seminary at Princeton,” he continued. “I received my acceptance letter yesterday.”
Dolly opened her mouth, but she couldn’t come up with a response.
Charles stood and extended his hand. “Come, I see I’ve shocked you. Perhaps we can walk for a bit and discuss it.”
Heart in her throat, Dolly stood and took his offered hand. Her mind whirled at the thought of Charles leaving California and traveling all the way to New Jersey. They would be so far apart; all communication would have to be long distance.
Charles led her out of the restaurant after cheerfully bidding farewell to their waiter. Dolly didn’t feel cheerful at all. Yes, she admired Charles for his decision, and she could tell that it filled him with a renewed purpose. But what would it mean for them? Was there even a them for her to mourn over?
They walked slowly toward the harbor, and Dolly tried to look on the positive side of things. Heaven only knew that was how she survived every day at the mission home. Focusing on the tender mercies and the smallest of triumphs allowed her to move forward one day at a time. Charles really wanted to find a way to serve, and this was a natural way to do it.
They rounded the block, and the bay came into sight. Up ahead, seagulls filled in the silence that had fallen between them. They continued onto the pier, their footsteps echoing on the wooden walkway. Charles stopped at the railing overlooking the marina. The wind was stiff, but the day was still warm. Regardless, Charles shrugged out of his jacket and set it across her shoulders.
The feel of his jacket was like being held by him, which only made her eyes burn.
“New Jersey sounds like a lifetime away,” she said at last.
Charles turned to face her, his back against the railing—reminding her of that first night they had talked on his mother’s porch. “Believe me, I’ve thought of it from all angles, and I decided to leave it in the Lord’s hands. If I got accepted at the Presbyterian seminary, then I would go.”
Dolly lifted her chin, gazing into his green eyes. Everything about Charles was so . . . alive and warm. And she would miss him, terribly. But who was she to stop him, to ask him to stay? “How long is the training?”
“A few years. I’m entering the ministry and obtaining a master’s in divinity and theology.” He lifted his hand to tuck some of her blowing hair behind her ear. “And it won’t make me a rich man.” His tone was light, and she wondered if he was keeping it that way for her benefit.
“Money isn’t everything, right?” she said.
“I think we could be very happy without much of it, darling.” His smile was soft as his gaze scanned hers, as if he were memorizing every detail of her face, and perhaps he was.