“She paid Dale’s lunch balance herself. Then she kept helping him quietly.”
Dale wiped his eyes.
“I didn’t find out until years later, after she died.”
His voice broke.
“She helped me when nobody else would.”
I looked at the old coffee can.
For the first time, I understood why the school’s Facebook post had affected him so deeply.
Dale continued.
“When I saw what you did with those pennies, I remembered being that little boy.”
He looked directly at me.
“I wanted to humiliate you, Becky. I was angry because you were leaving.”
His eyes filled again.
“You were the best employee I ever had, and I treated you terribly.”
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry. For the pennies. For the oil. For the way I behaved during your final two weeks.”
I stood quietly.
Then he added, “And I’m sorry I never thanked you for six years of hard work.”
While we were talking, Noah appeared at the office doorway.
