My sincerest thanks to Flip and Pegasus for their very kind reviews of the first chapter.
Jack hadn't been walking but twenty minutes when he stopped.
"Where am I going?"
He meant this quite literally. He thought it had been planned out perfectly. He'd ride with Marcus to the train yards, buy a ticket to the city, sleep for a few hours, get off the train, start walking… and then what? This was as far as his planning had realistically taken him. He never imagined what to do next. In his head, all he saw after stepping off the train were all of the Manhattan newsies standing there, anxiously awaiting the return of their leader.
As to why his mind conjured this scene, he had no idea. After all, no one knew he was coming back. He never told anyone. He hadn't sent a letter to David, telling him to bring everyone to the station on the second of July. He hadn't written to Racetrack to keep an eye out for him on the way back from Sheepshead Bay. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't written a letter to anyone while in Santa Fe. He didn't receive any mail, either. The last time he'd heard from the newsies was the last time he saw them-- over one year ago, on the day he left.
He suddenly became very concerned… almost scared.
What if something bad had happened to one of them while he was away? How would he have known about it? What if he whipped open the bunkroom door… and someone was missing?
Jack laughed at himself. The long train ride had obviously done something to his head. If something that serious had happened, surely they would have found a way to let him know about it.
A bell rang, and he looked to his right. The place where he'd stopped walking was right in front on a seamstress shop. A small family consisting of a father, mother, and their little girl had just stepped out of the store.
"But I don't want to wait until home, can't I see my dress now?"
Jack was surprised to hear the girl speak, for her tone was one of calmness rather than complaining.
"Oh, James, look how excited she is," said another calm voice. The mother's eyes were sparkling, and her grin was as wide as the enormous hat that rested on her tight blonde curls. Her voice didn't seem to belong.
"Alright, but just for a moment. It's getting late, my loves," the big-mustached father said. Again, the tone surprised Jack. Despite their appearance, the family seemed almost too simple. Almost.
The father bent down and, noticing Jack, smiled and said, "Thank you, but you go on ahead."
Jack felt a bit guilty, for the reason he stopped walking in the first place had nothing to do with letting he family cross in front of him. Still, he nodded to the father and continued traveling…
… until he reminded himself the he hadn't decided upon a destination.
Before he had the chance to prolong his journey yet again, he heard the mother speak.
"That's long enough now, dear. Your father's right-- it's late, and we're both very tired. You can look at it more in the morning, Sarah."
Jack's heart began to thump wildly. Sarah. Sarah Jacobs. That is who he needed to see first. He pace quickened considerably. He thought about her almost every night before he went to sleep; why had it taken him this long to figure out that the Jacobs's apartment was where he should head to first? Maybe he was scared of what he'd find.
He took a right. Eight blocks down. Then another right. His body moved correctly without him giving much thought to it. He closed his eyes every so often as he walked so he could keep a clear picture of her shining face in his head. After a few months in Santa Fe, it became more difficult to see every detail; there were just some things about her he couldn't remember, like how many teeth showed when she smiled. And the exact shades of brown in her eyes. Now that he was back in New York, though, all of the missing pieces seemed to be putting themselves back together. He couldn't wait to see her again in person. To wrap her up in his arms again. The feel her head rest near his shoulder again. To kiss her again…
Sarah was just drying the last dessert plate when she heard someone knocking on the apartment door. She looked confused. Whoever it was only knocked four times, but the knocks were loud and rather fast-- it certainly wasn't her father, and David had left only a half hour ago. She timidly placed her ear against the door and asked, "Who is it?"
On the other side of the door, Jack involuntarily grinned.
"Oh, come on, Sarah. Just open the door."
She jerked her head away, as if the door had just burned her skin. She knew that voice. Too well. But it couldn't be… could it?
She turned the handle and opened slowly.
Jack thought she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. There was something funny about her, though. Perhaps it was the look of complete and befuddled shock on her face. Her eyes looked uncomfortably wide. They narrowed, however, as Jack took it upon himself to invite himself in and make his way to the center of the Jacobs's tiny living room, fondly taking it all in again. He turned around, expecting to see Sarah facing him. Instead, all he saw were clenched fists on either side of her back.
"How dare you."
Her voice was calm but not the simple calm of the family from the seamstress shop. It was a biting calm that sent chills up and down his arms. And not in a good way.
"How dare you set foot in this house, Jack Kelly."
Her voice broke when she said his name, and she immediately inhaled sharply as if a knife had sliced her skin when she said it.
She finally turned around. She didn't look like she was expecting Jack to say anything, which was good, because Jack didn't dare speak. Her eyes were becoming increasingly glossy. She ran her eyes over him multiple times, just to make sure he was real. Then, her face turned incredibly tight and angry. She took several breathes and looked like she wanted to say something. Several things, actually, and Jack did not want to hear any of them. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then look frustrated. A few tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away and shook her head. When she looked at him again, her face held more concern than anything else. She gave a lengthy exhale and scrunched her forehead in slight disgust.
"Please go to the washroom. You need a shave. You can use David's things."
Deeply bewildered, but relieved nonetheless, Jack did as he was told without looking back. He shut himself inside the washroom, and looked in the mirror, seeing his reflection for the first time in a long time. Sarah was right-- he did need a shave. And how.
He knew that she'd be shocked and maybe a bit mad, but nothing could have prepared him for the degree to which she felt these emotions. He didn't blame her, though. Perhaps, deep down, he knew she would feel this way, what with how she reacted when she found out he was leaving…
That's all for this chapter. I know everyone is itching to know what's going on with our boys, but this had to come first. =) They will appear in the next chapter, though, so hang in there.