May 19th, 1899
The days following Clara's run-in with the newsie passed in a blur of activity as the responsibilities of her job swept her attention away from diversions such as going out to lunch. As the different tasks piled themselves on her desk with each passing hour, she happily got lost in the work of bringing order and efficiency to the sometimes-chaotic operation of the governor's office. When the days weren't full of meetings and note-taking, there was always a stack of filing to be put away neatly, research to be scrounged up on some new issue or another, and the never-ending mail to be sorted and addressed promptly. She normally found herself working straight through her lunch, then dinner, as she wrote with one hand and ate with the other.
She worked into the later hours of the evening, staying on long past when the other secretary went home to prepare dinner for her children, and wandering back to the apartment along the lamp-lit streets, where she'd then stay up by the flickering candle, pouring over the textbooks she'd need to know inside-out and backward for whenever she started university again in the fall. On the weekends, she'd trek back home across the Brooklyn Bridge to pull volunteer shifts at Graham Windham and help her mother and the other charity ladies to organize events.
She might be busy (and a little bit sleep deprived) but she thrived on the packed schedules and constant feeling that she was doing something useful and productive and valuable. She wouldn't change it for the world.
Hannah too seemed constantly employed by one thing or another either at the office or with her own family's activities (she had four younger sisters who were all involved in various activities of their own, so there were always events to go to and things to help with), though she was far better about taking breaks than Clara. Even in the hectic rush of daily life, she still found small moments to sit back and enjoy her friend's company over a cup of tea or a belated supper.
Yes, the days did indeed pass in a blur, as they quickly turned into weeks, and then months, until Clara had almost completely forgotten about her run-in with the friendly newsie. As the weather warmed with the passing seasons, and she finally started to listen to Hannah's insistence that she really ought to take time to rest more often, Clara found herself once again going out on her lunch breaks. She never wandered far from the office, usually just down to the row of restaurants that occupied the block across from city hall, to enjoy the outdoor seating, or to sit in the small park that surrounded the building and dotted Manhattan with its greenery. It was on one of these such excursions that she saw the newsie again, selling outside of Jacobi's, and he gave her a friendly smile as she passed.
She saw him often after that and realized that their first set of double meetings may have been less coincidental and unlikely than she originally thought since he seemed to live and sell in the area often. At first, Clara would only pass quickly on her way to her destination and they'd greet each other with a smile and maybe a wave or a polite nod. But one day when she'd finished her book earlier that morning, and neglecting to bring a backup, found herself in want of something to read while she ate, decided to stop and buy a paper.
The friendly newsie waved as she approached him. "Hello there, Clara!" He glanced down at her empty hands and gave her and gave her an impish grin. "No book today?"
"No, as a matter of fact," Clara said, somewhat incredulously. "No crashing either, though I will take a paper."
"Just as well!" He handed her the paper. "Your boss wasn't too annoyed with you for bringing a second edition back with you?"
Clara smiled despite herself at his good memory, surprised that he'd remembered her name at all, much less the comments that she'd dismissed at the time. "Yes, actually. He isn't fond of the World, and I didn't look at the headline," she said, handing him the change for the paper.
"Ah so you're a traitor," he laughed. "Hopefully you won't get in trouble again."
Well, she'd got this conversation off to a perfectly splendid start. Clara dropped the coins into his hand and tried to recover from her gaff. "Oh, no, this is for me. I find it interesting to read multiple different points of view."
"I am curious, who could possibly dislike the World?" the newsie asked. A proper salesman then…
"Governor Roosevelt."
"oh!"
Clara noticed the newsie's look of being completely taken aback at her answer and quickly tried to backpedal her earlier statement, saying, "He didn't take to Pulitzer's editorials so kindly, but the rest of the paper is fine, at least by my humble opinion. It's certainly nothing personal, I hope you don't take offense-"
"No offense taken," he reassured her. "What do you do there?"
Clara glowed at the compliment and happily took the chance to explain her role in the office and how it connected to her work at the orphanage. He listened attentively, nodding along to indicate that he followed what she said and was interested, and his eyes widened when she said the name of Graham Windham. She didn't know how long she'd spoken; it must have been several minutes but she barely noticed in the excitement of giving her soapbox speech. When she'd finished, he smiled at her again. "You're really smart to do all that," he said simply.
Clara felt her face flush in mild embarrassment and satisfaction at the sincere compliment. "Thank you… Well, I've talked enough about myself," she apologized with an awkward wave of her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I've been rather rude; I don't even know your name."
"Oh, I'm called Crutchie," he said and for the first time, he dropped his eyes away from hers to stare at the pavement, as if she'd offended him.
Splendid.
"I'm sorry," she said again, "I didn't mean to-"
"Oh, don't worry about it, it's what everyone calls me. I like the name," He reassured her though still not looking up as he adjusted his grip, "And the crutch. I'd be more than a little put-out without it."
Clara nodded hurriedly and searched for something suitably polite to say in response, that nagging recognition tugging at her memory but unable to come up – or unwilling to accept - why she knew him. "I hope it heals soon," she said eventually.
"It won't," he said with an almost-convincing feigned casualness. He was looking past her now, somewhere into the crowd, scanning the other people that moved around them on the pavement, "I had polio as a little kid. But it's alright. I can get along."
Clara froze. The memories came crashing back into the forefront of her mind – the resemblance and situation too uncanny, the attitude the same stubborn friendliness, his tone too familiar to just be the kindness he paid random stranger girls on the street. For the past eight years, she'd wished vainly to find her long lost best friend again. Eight years, she'd been too scared to hope, with no real closure and no way of finding it. Eight years she'd pushed the loss and lowliness out of her mind and thrown herself into her work to somehow make up for the fact that Andrew was gone. She never dared to dream of what their reunion might be like. She never expected it might be like this.
No. She was getting ahead of herself. There was still no proof this frustratingly familiar boy was her old friend. Plenty of street kids get polio each year. New York had so many people, always coming and going, it almost wasn't possible that he'd been right in their backyard their whole time. She almost didn't want to know if it would dash her hopes.
But still.
He was looking up at her again, with that blasted smile. Clara's insides twisted into knots of anticipation, but she finally forced herself to speak.
"What is your real name?" She asked, her voice choking slightly against her will. An indescribable look passed over his face, and her stomach dropped. "I'm sorry, I'm a little shaken. Forgive my bluntness. You remind me of someone."
But instead of the retort or passive-aggressively polite comment Clara expected, Crutchie only dropped his head for an instant before looking up at her again with his smile and saying, "My name is Andrew Morris.
We found each other.
"I've missed you."
Tears pricked at Andrew's eyes when he heard the last question, and he ducked his head to his chest to regain his compare before answering Clara – his Clara – with his real name. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands on reflex, the same way she always did whenever she was trying to hide a smile at one of his jokes. But this was no joke.
They found each other.
Andrew stepped forward and threw his free arm around her for a hug. She nearly tackled him in the embrace. She had a couple of inches on him now, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, solid and secure and safe. It felt like home.
When they finally pulled away, and he'd caught his balance with her steadying hand, it took a few more seconds before either of them could speak. Clara made a noise that was half sob and half laughter and he brushed the tears off her cheek between scrubbing at his own wet eyes.
"Dear God, I've missed you so much," she said finally. "I have so many questions."
"Me too. I'm so glad to see you again! I didn't recognize you at first – it didn't seem like you recognized me either but then you said about the orphanage and it couldn't be a coincidence!"
"I'm so stupid. We've been seeing each other in passing for so long without knowing. All that time we could have-"
"It doesn't matter. We've found each other now."
"But all the lost years..." Clara dropped her eyes and rubbed her hand over her watch as if she was willing it to turn back time. She frowned when the clock face didn't start turning backward.
"We have all the time in the world now, don't we?" Andrew said, putting his hand on her wrist to ground her and assure her that yes, this was real, he was here, and they were together once again.
She nodded, and finally smiled back at him and his chest felt full to bursting with happiness and excitement. She'd changed, yes. He realized now that she stood a full head taller than him, when before they were nearly the same height, and she'd traded the ruffled blouses and hairbows of her childhood for smart business attire and thick long blonde braid coiled in a bun atop her head. Her attention was no longer on creating towns in the dirt at the park, but on creating a better town for them to live in. But she still had the same smile that got him through so many sad days, the same steady hands that supported him through so many painful tries at walking again, and the same fiery energy that fueled her actions whether it was a local clothing drive or a state-wide campaign.
He'd changed too, but he hoped she'd find the familiarity of their friendship too.
Clara absentmindedly glanced at her watch again, before starting in surprise. "It can't be almost one yet, can it?"
Andrew's brow furrowed in confusion, and he glanced at their shadows. "Just about. Why?" He asked, before realizing the same thing she did. "Oh! You were on your lunch break, weren't you?!"
"Yes, I have a meeting in ten minutes," she groaned. Despite the ticking clock, stubbornly marching on, she didn't make any attempts to turn back towards the office. "I don't want to leave you again."
Andrew's heart sank at the idea but he gave her a reassuring pat on the arm nonetheless and put on a cheerful tone. "It's alright. You have your work. I'm so proud of you. I know you worked hard for that. I'm not going anywhere."
"Do you promise? Here? At five o'clock, as soon as I get off work?"
She looked distraught at the prospect of leaving so soon after they'd just found each other again, and he shared the sentiment, but he also didn't want to be the reason she lost the thing she was so passionate about, and so he let her go.
"I promise. I have work to do too. We can have dinner in the park together and catch up."
"Alright," she said reluctantly. "I miss you again already."
"Me too."
"Four hours?" she said, turning around finally, before rushing back for a parting hug.
Crutchie smiled one last time when they pulled away. "We found each other once. I'll find you again."
A/N: We made it folks! I hope it was worth the wait! :) There are plenty of adventures yet to be had, so if you liked this chapter, let me know what you think of it! Thank you as always for reading!