October 1899
Paralyzing. That's what the news had been. Spot stared ahead, not moving, not breathing, not thinking. Usually always the one to think fast on his feet, the leader of Brooklyn had no idea what to say or think. Only her words echoed in his mind.
I'm pregnant.
Yes, I'm sure.
What are we going to do?
"Spot," she said.
He looked at her, snapping himself back to reality.
"You sure it's mine?" Sarcasm was always his first line of defense.
Violet frowned. "You know I ain't been with anyone but you."
Spot raised an eyebrow.
"What, you think I'm lyin'? Not all of us are like you, Spot. We can't just go between two people, convincing each one of them that we're in love with them."
Spot sighed. "So what are we gonna do about it?"
Violet frowned. "What do you mean what are we gonna do about it? Hopefully what anyone would do in our situation."
Spot nodded. "I'll take care of it," he said at the same time Violet said, "get married."
"Wait, what?" he asked.
Violet's eyebrows shot up. "If you think I'm gonna get rid of this baby, you got another thing comin'."
Spot sighed and took off his hat, running his other hand through his hair. "Okay, okay. Just…give me some time to straighten things out. We'll…we'll make this work."
"Yeah, you and me will make this work," said Violet. Spot nodded. "Without Charlotte."
"Vi…"
Violet raised an eyebrow.
"Look, no need to panic until...you know…" he gestured around her stomach, "you start showin'. Here." He dug into his pocket and pulled out whatever money had been in there. He didn't even bother counting it. He put it into Violet's hand. "I don't want you workin' too hard, okay? Take care of yourself. I'll see you in a couple days, and we'll figure this thing out, okay?"
"I misjudged you, Spot." She turned around and called over her shoulder, "I thought you'd be the type to help your girl at a time like this."
Spot rolled his eyes. "What the fuck was giving you money if not helping you?" he muttered to himself.
Spot sighed and watched her walk down the docks and tried to ignore the dull ache in the pit of his stomach. He'd been a total ass. After months of late-night whispered promises of love and protection, she'd come to him for help, and he had dumped the problem back on her shoulders.
Once. They'd been together once when Charlotte and he were broken up. Well…maybe it was twice. And maybe once after he and Charlotte had gotten back together. Spot inwardly cringed at the thought that Charlotte had decided to trust him again, and he'd thrown that trust away.
He looked back over the East River. He had to make this right. He had to figure out a way to provide for Violet, but there was no way to do that on the income he made as a newsie. He had to figure out a way to tell Charlotte.
