Tiffany Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mother, but I can’t seem to work up any enthusiasm for a husband who will withhold money from me when I’m the one earning it and who will keep me on a leash because he thinks he knows better than I what’s best for me.”
    Mother sucked in her breath.
    Papa’s face exploded with color. “He will know what’s best for you! Clearly.”
    Looking down, Flossie picked a crumb from her skirt and dropped it into her empty pudding cup.
    Papa squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine,” he barked. “Youcan have the job at Tiffany’s, but by all that is holy, you will stay here at home.”
    She lifted her chin and looked at a point just above her mother’s head. “I’m sorry, Papa. I cannot.”
    Taking in a wheezing breath, he drove his fingers into his hair and fisted his hands, the gesture ruining the perfection of his appearance. Genuine concern for his health swept through her. Surely her actions wouldn’t cause his heart to fail?
    No, no. She had to get ahold of herself.
    After a tense moment, he lowered his arms, weariness settling over him. His hair stuck up in tufts. “Your mother and I have spent a lifetime caring for you, training you, teaching you, encouraging you, loving you—even spoiling you, at times. We have put everything—everything—into preparing you for life as a wife and mother. You are all we have, Flossie. Why, after all we’ve done, would you do this to us?”
    Her eyes filled, her throat swelled. “Are you afraid I’ll fail, Papa? Are you afraid I’ll make you ashamed of me?”
    He gave her a look of acute sadness. “No, moppet, I’m afraid you’ll succeed. As a matter of fact, I know you’ll succeed. You’re so beautiful, and talented, and smart—too smart for a woman, actually. So much so, I’m afraid once Tiffany realizes what he has, he will pull you from the glasswork and make you a designer of his windows. Then you’d never come back home.”
    Love for him burst within her. She didn’t dare thank him for his unfailing belief in her, but it warmed her clear down to her toes. “And would my being a designer for Tiffany shame you?”
    Pursing his lips, he examined his immaculate fingernails. “No, I’d be quite proud of you, actually. Imagine us going to church and telling the people next to us that our daughter designed the windows.” He gave a wistful smile. “So long as you were designing them, it would be okay. Just like painting is suitable for a lady of your upbringing. But, sweet girl, how could we ever explain that you’dgiven up the very purpose God created you for? And all for a job? Especially one where you solder lead and cut glass? That’s man’s work, not woman’s.” The pain and injury in his eyes made her resolve waver. “It’s possible we could hide what you were doing—if you lived at home, that is. Then once you became a designer, if you still insisted on living somewhere else, we could look into it.”
    She swallowed. “I can’t stay here, Papa. I have to move out.”
    “Why?”
    “Flossie.” Her mother looked close to tears. “Please.”
    Papa tilted his head. “What is it?”
    Some inner sense kept her from stating the driving reason—that she wanted to keep her earnings for herself. She’d hinted at it before and he’d not picked up on it. Besides, no matter what she thought, she simply couldn’t bring herself to confront him about that or his gambling. But there was another reason, one she’d thought of on the way home from school, one that had been building up a great deal of steam and excitement within her.
    “If I lived in a boardinghouse,” she said, “I’d have siblings for the first time in my entire life, and I’ve always, always wanted them.”
    Mother clasped her hand over her mouth, the tears that had threatened earlier spilling over her cheeks.
    Too late, Flossie realized how her mother must have interpreted that. “No, Mother, I didn’t mean—”
    Shoving her chair back, Mother tossed her napkin on the