A Ring of Truth

As usual during the tax season, the day had been a long one. Beatrice was exhausted from getting her little girl ready for day care, and then spending eleven hours at the office, answering phone calls from customers and typing data into the computer. She had also been called into her boss’s office on countless occasions throughout the day to pick up tax forms and to be sent out on missions for much-needed coffee and sweets.

Bea was a hard and determined worker. Although she had only started her job six months before, she had done her best to be an asset to the company, which handled the finances of businesses and wealthy individuals. She had a knack with customers, even the most crotchety, and of all the secretaries and interns, she spent the most time at the office. She worried about the effect this might have on her daughter, Camilla, whom she saw very little of from January to April. Because of the need for her to be at the office, Bea only got to spend quality time with Cammy on Sundays. Sundays were filled with book reading and Elmo watching and the gentle brushing of a four-year old’s golden curls.

Because Bea was somewhat new to the company, she was very afraid of asking to bring Cammy to work. But, because she was a single parent, she had a hard time paying for all the day care Cammy needed. Once, three weeks ago, she had steeled herself to ask Mr. Trivioli, her boss, whether employees ever brought their children to work. “Children?" He had looked up from a pile of papers. "Children have no business at this office. Unless they want to check out stock options!” When she laughed, he thought she was merely being incredulous. “No, really,” he said, “if they have money to invest they are most welcome.” Then he had gone back to his work.

Her fellow employees told her that the company’s client roll actually boasted of a few child TV stars. Bea wryly thought that maybe she should have Cammy try out for commercial spots.

It was seven p.m. when the phone rang. Beatrice noticed from the caller ID that it was the day care center. “Beatrice?” Jennifer from KreativeKid asked.

“Yes, Jen?” Bea replied, worried. “Is Cammy okay?”

“Cammy is fine. We were wondering about you. You do remember that we close early today?” Bea closed her eyes and sighed. She had completely forgotten. She had at least two hours of work left and she knew she couldn’t impose upon Jenny to stay longer. The daycare had already helped out Bea and a handful of parents who worked late by staying open as long as it did.

“Really, I’ve got to be at a bridal recital in the next hour,” Jenny said.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Bea found herself saying. Quickly she spied on the conference room and noted the coffee was low. That would make a good excuse…

Fifteen minutes later, Bea and Cammy got out of the car in the company parking lot. Bea knelt to her daughter’s level and looked at her seriously.

“Promise me,” she said, “that you will be a good girl and not make a noise. Work on your coloring books and we’ll go home pretty soon. OK?”

Cammy nodded, her eyes big and her hands clutched together. She could be quite shy and her backpack was stuffed with quiet activities. Bea felt that everything would be okay.

The office was crazed when Bea walked in. She could not imagine what was going on. The office was usually slow from 4-9PM, when tax forms were being processed and a handful of prestigious clients came in for meetings. Bea hastily set Cammy up, within her sight, in the waiting room. Bea’s boss found her the very next minute.

“What is that child doing here?” he demanded.

Bea pulled together her courage. “I am sorry, Mr. Trivioli. There was a problem with daycare tonight and I had to bring her. We have no relatives or anyone else who could have watched her.”

Mr. Trivioli glared and Bea shook slightly. “Never, ever again,” he said. “If we weren’t in such a muddle, I would send you home.” His eyebrows were nearly fused together and his face was barely concealing a fit of rage. “Do you know Benjamin Grady?” he barked.

Bea was startled at the question. “Ye-es. Why?” She remembered the old, thin man who could probably make millionaires of all the staff in the office. Bea was the only one in the office who could make Mr. Grady laugh and she had worked hard at making the man comfortable.

“Well, he lost a ring in the office today. He claims it’s an heirloom and that he lost it here and he’s been ranting at me over the phone every two minutes for the past twenty. So, everyone’s current job is to look for the ring. No one leaves until it is found AND all the work is done for the night.” Mr. Trivioli stomped away, while calling over his shoulder, “get cracking!”

Bea and the staff searched everywhere, three times over. After half an hour, the ring was still nowhere to be found. Mr. Grady was on his way over to berate the staff and look for himself. Bea was ready to cry with exhaustion.

“Mom?” a plaintive voice called. Bea sighed inwardly and headed for Cammy.

“Yes, sweetie? You need anything?” Bea noticed that Cammy had out her juice cup and that many coloring pages had been filled in with crayon. But Cammy was not coloring anymore – she cradled something in her hand.

“I want to give you a present,” Cammy said. “’Cause I think you need one.” With her big serious eyes, Cammy put her hand in her mom’s.

Out fell a golden antique ring, with one large ruby and two small sapphires embedded in an intricate setting. It seemed to glow with age and beauty. The ring demanded to be touched and held and it was a wonder the four-year old did not try to secret the ring away forever.

“Where – where did you find this?” Bea whispered.

“Outside, under the car,” Cammy said. Bea suddenly remembered her daughter bending over her shoes while Bea grabbed the coffee in the backseat. Cammy must have seen the ring then. Tired and relieved, a teardrop fell down Bea’s cheek.

Cammy looked scared. “Mommy, are you OK?”

Bea smiled and gave her daughter a big hug. “Thank you for the ring sweetie. It does not belong to us, but to a client. I have to give it to him. But your finding it does make me feel a lot better.” Bea gave Cammy a kiss on the head, then stood up.

A hand rested on her shoulder. Bea looked around and saw the owner of the ring. Solemnly she handed him back his possession. The old man actually smiled slightly as he looked it over. “I knew if you found it, you would return it to me. But I was worried about the rest of the employees around here,” Mr. Grady groused.

The rest of the employees and Mr. Trivioli had crowded around the waiting room.

Mr. Grady held up the ring and considered it. “This ring has been in my family for generations. It is worth a fortune.” He cleared his throat, forcing emotion away. “My father gave it to me and I have always guarded it carefully. I guess I am getting too old and thin to wear it, though.” He looked at Bea. “You cannot know how much this means to me. Ask for anything and you shall have it.”

Bea’s throat was suddenly dry. She knew what she wanted. “Is there any way…” she turned to Mr. Trivioli, who surely would be glad that she had helped a big client. “Is there any way that my daughter can come to work with me? Just at night? The daycare can’t keep her so late and she’s a good kid, and quiet. She found the ring. Please?”

Mr. Trivioli hastily agreed, but Mr. Grady turned to Bea. “The office is not the place for a child. I might have an alternative to such a plan. My grandson is about your daughter’s age and he has a nanny. I want to pay you back. Come to my house and meet the nanny and if you like her, I would be delighted to have your girl visit every day you work. And if you do not find the nanny suitable, I will pay for daycare. You have my word.”

Bea could not believe Mr. Grady’s proposal. And she still could not believe her luck, several weeks later, when Mr. Grady took her as his personal finances consultant. He had been as good as his word, and Cammy loved her new playmate and nanny. Mr. Grady never forgot the ring incident and often asserted that anyone else would have kept the ring and pawned it. He admired Bea’s trustworthiness. Within a short time, Cammy was considered his granddaughter - and mom and daughter were always welcome in his home.


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