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Chapter 9
Still smiling as she made her way to her door, Moira inserted her key, turned the latch, and opened the door to her home. Her smile faded quickly, however, as she saw that her mother was not only home, but also waiting up for her with the anger of a grizzly bear woken from hibernation.
"Where in the world were you?" Kathryn asked with a quiet anger that scared Moira more than any shouting ever would. She opened her mouth to explain, but she was cut off. "Don't even bother. You were with those filthy boys across the street again, weren't you? You spend far too much time over there, Moira Elizabeth, far too much time."
"I happen to work there." She snapped, not wanting to have her mother ruin the good mood she was in.
"Oh don't make me laugh. You've told me yourself that there is no real work to be done in that dreadful hovel. You do nothing and aren't even paid for it! I am racking my brains, trying to figure out the appeal that job holds for you."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this. I'm going to bed." She muttered, beginning to walk across the room. Kathryn grabbed her arm.
"No you are not, we're going to discuss this." Moira rolled her eyes. "What has happened to you? You've changed so much since we left Boston."
"How so?" Her daughter asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Well, for one thing, your punctuality is practically non-existent. You used to be so…quiet. And now you're loud, constantly late for things, out until all hours of the night with those…newsies, and perfectly content to spend the rest of your life filing papers for a house full of dirty children!" Kathryn retorted, her voice rising slowly.
"First of all, Mother, I have been late for exactly two different things since we moved here in August, I am loud when I have to be-as are you, this is the first time I've ever been home this late, and I have no intention of spending the rest of my life as an office girl in the lodging house." Moira returned, heatedly.
"Make whatever claims you want, but I'd just like to know why in heaven's name you want to spend all of your free time there with those boys?"
"Because they're my friends Mother. They're people I enjoy being around. Do you understand that? Those boys, as you refer to them as, are the only people I know who don't judge me by the mistakes I've made or the marriage proposals I've turned down! They care about me enough to-"
"Oh, Moira!" It was Kathryn's turn to roll her eyes in disgust. "Don't you see what's going on? They don't care about you! You're a pretty girl, sent in to amuse them! They keep you around because they like the way you look- they're only ignorant boys, after all, what can you expect?"
Moira shook her head. "You don't know them."
"Neither, I can assure you, do you, my dear."
"Listen, Mother, I am not about to stand here and listen to you insult the few people in my life who actually care about me! I'm also not going to just accept the fact that I will remain just a nuisance to you until I marry Jonathan. Which, by the way, Mother, will NEVER HAPPEN! Until you can come up with a logical reason, one that doesn't include what other people will think, or how it would look, for me to stop going to work and discontinue my friendship with the newsies, I have nothing to say to you on this subject! Now, if you'd like to calmly discuss something else, I'll be more than ready to listen to what you have to say. But since I doubt that will happen, I'm going to bed. GOOD NIGHT!" She screamed the last part into her mother's face, ignoring all lady-like restrictions against yelling, turned on her heel and walked quickly to her room, slamming the door.
Oddly, she wasn't upset about the argument she'd just had with her mother. Instead of going straight to bed, like she could have, Moira took out her diary and pen, and began to write:
November 30, 1899
Dear Diary,
It is a wonderful feeling when you realize you can still surprise yourself. I just had a horrendous fight with Mother yet I feel oddly indifferent towards anything I have just said. Maybe it's because everything I told her was true, versus her lies, and I know that. Maybe it's because I know that she was wrong when she told me the newsies only like me because of the way I look. People who only liked me for my looks would not have done something as sweet as cook an entire Thanksgiving feast for me when they knew I would be alone on the holiday. That was ever so sweet of those boys, it really was, even if the meal itself consisted of burnt food and day-olds from Tibby's, it's the thought that matters in situations like this. Mother knows nothing of which she speaks, but then again, when has she ever thought before speaking? Has she? I'm not sure…. But on the grand scheme of things, I would have to say that this night ranks as one of the best I've had in awhile. I'm sure that Grandpa would have agreed.
Well, good night.
Moira.
Smiling, Moira closed her diary, tucked it into her drawer, changed, and went straight to bed, exhausted with the day's activities.
***
Delaney paced back and forth in front of Jeff Connors, who was reading over the diary entries. She'd forbidden her best friend and colleague at the museum to read any further than she'd gotten. After what seemed like an eternity, he put the book down.
"Interesting, Del, very." He said, after some thought. "But personally, I don't feel any pity towards the girl at all."
"What are you talking about? Have you not been reading? All the crap she's had to put up with! And then her grandfather dies. Tell me your eyes didn't moisten at that entry. It was heartbreaking." She smacked him lightly on the head. "How can you not pity her?"
"First of all, Impatient McEagerpants" Jeff began, shaking his head. Delaney had to laugh at the stupid nicknames he was constantly inventing for her. "I just said I didn't pity her. I didn't say some other poor soul in the life of Moira Bailey doesn't have my pity."
"Really? Who?" She asked, eyebrows raised.
"I actually feel sorry for this David kid."
"David! Why would you feel bad for David? That's the most random thing I've heard all day!"
"Allow me to explain: From what you've told me, and from what I've read, we both know what's going on with her and Jack. Yet, there's poor David, who, from the looks of it, has a crush on our gal Moira. And this Jack fellow, he's already taken, yet he's trying to hook up with David's girl!" Jeff was cut off as Delaney whacked the British man again on the back of the head.
"They're just friends, numb nuts! Don't you comprehend anything at all?"
"I wasn't done, you abusive tramp! Stop hitting me. As I was saying, we all know how this story is going to end- it says so itself right on this painting." He pointed to the corned of one of the paintings she'd brought to him, this one was of a blonde child, dated 06'.
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying David needs ass too!" At this, Delaney burst out laughing, but Jeff kept going. "I'm saying that she's going to end up breaking poor David's heart! And then he's going to fake a smile as she runs off and becomes Mrs. Jack Kelly happily ever after. It's David's story that is just bloody heartbreaking-not Moira's." He slid the diary toward a now glowering Delaney.
"David needs ass too? I give you the diary of a young woman who lived more than a hundred years ago, and you tell me that David needs ass too?" She exclaimed.
"Well, everyone needs ass, Delaney. I was only stating the truth. What are you getting so worked up about? In my opinion, the story's told, we know the ending, quit wasting your time and try to find an actual mystery to dig up, we all know that's what you really live for." Delaney shook her head, picked up the book, and left Jeff's office.
'You think you know everything, don't you." She grimaced to no one, sitting back down in her own office. She opened the diary again and furiously turned the pages, now on a mission to prove not only her husband, but also now Jeff, wrong- that the story wasn't over just yet.
***
"Hi, Moira?" Moira looked up to see the face of Sarah Jacobs peeking into the office. She smiled,
"Hi, Sarah. How are you?"
"Just fine. I wasn't interrupting you, was I?"
"Oh, no. Come on in." She beckoned the other girl in. "Was there something you needed?"
"Kind of." Sarah bit her lip. "This is going to sound kind of strange…"
"What is it?" Moira asked, concerned. She liked Sarah; she was a nice girl, smart and, on occasion funny. If anything, she was a girl that Moira could talk to when she tired of trying to carry on a conversation with boys.
"Well, I'm going away for a few days, to see some girl friends of mine in Pittsburgh. And well…"
"What?"
"See, I've written to them, and I've told them all about Jack. But the thing is, they want to see what he looks like. I don't have any pictures except the ones in the newspapers from the summer, but those aren't very flattering." She paused, as Moira began to wonder where she came into this equation. "Well, Les has the pictures that you draw, you know, of the people outside- well, he's got them hanging up all over the house. And I was wondering…"
'You were wondering if I could draw you a picture of Jack so you can show your friends what he looks like." Moira finished for her. Sarah blushed and looked at her feet.
"Isn't that stupid? Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"No! I'll do it." She said suddenly, not wanting to hurt Sarah's feelings.
"You will?"
"Of course, I'll just stay later tonight and draw him after everyone is done with work." Sarah's face broke into a smile.
"That would be wonderful, thank you Moira."
"Anytime." They smiled at one another as the door opened and Jack swaggered in.
"Well idn't dis a pleasant surprise. Two 'a my favorite goils in da same room right when I gots ta talk to dem both." The newsies leader said, kissing Sarah lightly before turning to Moira. "And how's my favorite office goil taday?" He asked,
"Perfectly delightful, thank you."
"What do you need to talk to us about?" Sarah asked, sliding an arm around him in a little hug.
"Just ta let you both know dat we'se all goin' ta see Medda tonight, and to extend an invitation to whoevah would like ta join us. So whaddya say, can I count you two in?"
"I'm in." His girlfriend agreed happily. Moira shrugged,
"Why not. I'll be there." Jack nodded with approval before kissing Sarah once more and went back to his rounds. "Well, I suppose I'll be sketching him at the theatre tonight." Moira told her companion, who shrugged again, grinning.
The two girls sat in the very back of the top balcony, giggling to themselves as their friends made complete idiots of themselves, whooping and hollering at Medda as she danced around the stage in a frilly pink costume. Occasionally, Moira would lean over far enough to catch a glimpse of Jack, and continued drawing. At some point during the evening, Jack went up on stage and danced with Medda. Sarah stared straight ahead.
"Something wrong?" Moira asked, noticing her friend's blank expression.
"I think Jack likes Medda more than me." She said at last. Moira glanced at the woman on stage, then at the one sitting next to her. The difference was as vast as an ocean.
"Are you serious?" Sarah nodded, not taking her eyes off of Jack. "Sarah, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"I'm seeing Jack dancing with a beautiful woman that adores him." Moira sighed.
"Listen to me, Sarah. Medda and Jack have a relationship that's based solely on friendship. They love each other, sure, but just as much as you and David love each other. He loves you." She emphasized the word love. Sarah looked at her.
"You think?"
"I do. And besides, she's old enough to be his mother, I think he has better taste than that." They both laughed at this and Sarah leaned over to look at the drawing, which was almost finished.
"Ooh, that's very good." She complimented. "But you made his face thinner." Moira examined the problem that had been pointed out.
"He looks better this way." The two of them giggled some more, sat back, and decided to just enjoy the show while it lasted.
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Okay, so, what was the point of this chapter? I'm not really sure! But, hell, it was fun to write. I also have to give mad props to one of my best friends, Jeff, who inspired me to write the Delaney section for the sole purpose of using the phrase 'David needs ass too.' as he so thoughtfully pointed out to me. I LOVE YOU JEFF! I love everyone! Especially to all my reviews- you guys rock! 32 reviews!! YAYA! And I think I'm done. Any ideas for the next chapter…something has to happen before Christmas- SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS!
