Title: Never Enough
Summary: A take on Romeo & Juliet. In 1921 New York, the Manhattan Mob and the Brooklyn Boys ruled the city. After a brief war, there was peace but it was never enough to create trust. All it took was one night – and one gunshot – to shatter that illusion.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Newsies characters mentioned in this piece; I do, however, stake claim to Jess Kelly, Frankie Kelly, Reagan Malloy, Johnny Conlon and a whole mess of other characters that will most likely pop up throughout this work.
Author's Note: Again, I'm going to just pretend that I did not just ignore this story for the past month. I meant to work on it, promise (you can ask Rae, too :P) but I just could not get the words to flow. To be honest, even this chapter felt forced but that was because the whole set up was to get the five kids out of the apartment they had been in for quite some time. After this chapter, it's going to get very interesting as we enter the end of the story. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Hopefully another will follow soon. Oh, and check out the prologue. I rewrote it to suit the eventual outcome of this story. Woot!
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Part XIX
Though it was Match who quieted Whistler when his language and tone threatened to break up such a happy moment for Johnny and Frankie, it was also Match who eventually became anxious when the silence became prolonged. Frankie and Johnny remained intertwined, holding onto each other as tightly as they could, while Match, Reagan and Whistler looked on; finally, when she could not stand it any longer, Match cleared her throat. The noise startled the pair and they broke apart.
Match shot an apologetic look their way before beginning to speak. "Listen. I want to congratulate you both and all because, shit, Johnny that took some nerve but what happens now? I don't really know what happened tonight but if what you said happened happened, if Mickey Finn really got shot and died, then I'm not entirely sure that this news will be welcome. How do you plan on breaking the news to your folks?"
A strange look came to Johnny's blue-green eyes and, though his one arm was still slung over Frankie's (now trembling – the mention of her parents was enough to make her nervous again) shoulder, his attention was on Match. "I don't plan on it."
Match looked confused. Reagan looked even more confused. Only Whistler understood Johnny's unspoken intentions. "You don't plan on it. Who are you sending in your place, Johnny?"
There was a pause and then… "You're smarter than you look, Whis," Johnny said, allowing himself a small chuckle.
Whistler knew better than to take offense to a comment like that. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. "That wasn't an answer."
"I know it wasn't. I didn't think you'd like my answer so I didn't give it."
Reagan did not like that way that Johnny said that. It made her nervous. "I'm confused."
Johnny turned his head so that he could see her face. "Don't be. Your task ain't as bad as Whis and Match's, kid."
"What do you mean, Match's? What are you gonna try to make me do?" Match cut in.
Frankie gave Johnny's side a quick squeeze. "Johnny. What are you going on about? What's your plan?"
He could not side-step his way around Frankie's question. "Alright. I'll tell you guys. But only if Match and Whistler promise to help. Oh, and Reagan, too. We're going to need everyone if we're going to pull this off tonight."
"Tonight?" It was hard to tell who spoke first. However, it was quite clear that everyone but Johnny was surprised that his impulsive proposal of only moments before meant that he actually wanted to get married that very night. It was one thing, they thought, to put a ring on Frankie's finger; it was another to follow through with it right away. But, from the set expression on his handsome face, all four of them could tell that he would not have it any other way.
Frankie squealed and covered her mouth in surprise before wrapping her arms around him again, excitedly. He almost fell over from the impact of her embrace but he quickly recovered and hugged her back.
Correctly realizing that, if the two of them got locked in that position again, it would take forever to break them apart, Whistler took the initiative to pull on each of their arms. A little more tactless that Match's earlier method to get their attention but it worked.
"C'mon, Conlon. Out with it. You want my help, fine. You got it. But what's this great plan of yours?"
Without answering Whistler, Johnny turned to look at Match. "What about you? Are you in?"
Match nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't give this up for all the money in the world."
"Alright. This is it. Me, I'm going to be in charge of finding a Church. I figure there's got to be one around here that's willing to hitch a couple of kids. And, hey, if not? Money talks. So that's my job. Reagan," he began, jerking his thumb in her direction, oblivious to her shocked expression. He just continued talking.
Reagan, however, was a tad bit disgruntled that this boy – who she had never before met before that night – was assuming that she would do whatever she was told. Well, given her personality, she would but it might have been nice to be asked.
"Reagan, it's going to be your job to take Frankie with you to your house to get ready. It's not safe for her to go home and I'm sure she's going to want to freshen up for her big night."
He waited for some kind of sign that Reagan understood her directions. She stopped shaking her head and sighed. At least I'll get to see Mama soon. I can only imagine what she's going to say when I show up looking like this with a strange girl in tow. "Okay. I'm sure I have something nice that Frankie could borrow." Even if it's nowhere as nice as anything she owns…
Frankie smiled widely and, after leaving Johnny's side for the first time in quite a while, hurried over to Reagan. She gave her a rather large hug. "Thank you," Frankie whispered.
Reagan just nodded. She had never expected any of this to happen. In a way, she was really just going through the motions. So what if she was agreeing to bring the daughter of the Manhattan Mob leader home with her to Brooklyn. It was no worse that anything else that had happened that night: Mickey Finn's death, her abduction (sort of) by the Kelly's, meeting Frankie Kelly and accompanying her to Match O'Rourke's apartment.
Johnny was still going on. "Now, it wouldn't be smart to send Frankie and Reagan into Brooklyn alone. I know that. So, Whistler," he said, now pointing at Whistler. Whistler did not look in the least surprised. "It's going to be your job to drive the girls to Reagan's place. While they're getting all dolled up and such, I want you to stop by my Dad's office—"
Whistler held up his hands at that. "Are you telling me that you want me to go up to Boss Conlon and tell him that his son is marrying Jack Kelly's daughter? Johnny, you know I'd do anything for you but that's a fool's errand. I'd rather not die tonight, you know."
"No, no, no," Johnny began, shaking his hand outwardly. "I know that, Whis. I'm not an idiot. But I need you to go by the office and leave a note. Dad can be scary when he wants to be so, the way I see it, I tell him myself in a letter. Maybe, if we're lucky, he won't read it until me and Frankie are hitched. Then there won't be anything he can do about it."
Whistler dropped his hands and nodded. "That I'll do for you, Johnny. But then what? After I leave the note at the office, should I get Matt? I mean, he really should know about Mickey and all, right?"
Johnny's mouth hung open. Whistler had hit on the one part of the whole night that Johnny did not have a plan for. In the midst of the excitement of planning a quick wedding, he had forgotten about what the catalyst behind it all was: Mickey's murder.
It was quiet for a few moments as Johnny thought this entire thing over. None of the others offered any advice or suggestions – this was up to him.
Finally, he shook his head. "No. Don't get Matt. I want to do the wedding first and deal with a funeral second. Matt ain't going to handle Mick's death too good. You know that and I know that. I'd rather not tell him until later. He'll hate me for it, I'm sure, but I can't have anything messing this up. I don't want to see any more lives lost tonight."
Whistler nodded. Without having to say anything in response, Johnny knew that he agreed.
He turned to Match. "Match. I need you to do the same thing for Frankie. I'm going to write out a note for my family, she's going to do the same for hers. I need you to bring that note to the Kelly's apartment and leave it for them. If she gives you the address to her home, can you do that?"
Match shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, Conlon. I can handle that."
"Good. I'll stop back here when I find a priest to marry us. I'll leave the address to the Church. You guys meet me there when you're done." He paused. "Does everyone understand the plan?"
No one said anything at first. It was a lot of information to process at once but as long as each of them remembered what role they had to play, it was easy to comprehend.
Reagan was the first to say anything. "Alright, now. If we're going to go through with this, let's do it. It's late as it is and if we want to see a wedding tonight, we got to get moving."
Johnny smiled at the girl. He was really beginning to appreciate her being involved in this whole mess. "Great. Match, do you have a pen and paper for me and Frankie? We got some notes we need to write."
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It did not take them long to write down their plans on the paper. Frankie's note was a bit longer but both of them contained one overarching message: that Frankie Kelly and Johnny Conlon were tired of the rivalry between their families and, following the unexpected death of Mickey Finn, they decided to disobey their parents' wishes and were getting married.
After folding the notes in half and addressing one to Jack & Jess Kelly and the other to Spot & Rae Conlon (that was Johnny's idea – just in case the note was found by one of Spot's lesser boys, one who had no idea about Spot and Rae's relationship), all five of the young adults left Match O'Rourke's apartment.
Johnny set out on foot, in search of a Church who would understand his situation and perform a marriage ceremony that very night. Match accompanied him for a bit, setting out for the Kelly's posh apartment. When they passed that imaginary line that separated the seedy part of the Lower East Side to the more upscale apartments, the pair separated: Johnny continued on his walk with Match entering the rather impressive apartment building that matched the address Frankie had given her.
Whistler led Frankie and Reagan to the car that he and Johnny had driven to Manhattan in. It was a quick drive from Manhattan back to Brooklyn – just over the Brooklyn Bridge, really – and, even though he had to drop off the girls at Reagan's small house just outside of Brooklyn, he made it to the office in record time.
Maybe it was his nerves or because he enjoyed speeding, Whistler was not so sure. Either way, he was there, parked a block away from Boss Conlon's office, before he knew it.
Now, if only he could actually bring himself to get out of the car and deliver Johnny's note.