Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney. Original characters and narrative are mine.
Chapter 135: Constancy and Change
A/N: Hello, dear readers. It has come to my attention that this site has stopped sending email notifications to users, which means that updates on this story (and any other fics you follow) are not coming to your inbox. Some users have also mentioned that their story stats are not updating. Apparently this has been going on for some time, and the site admins haven't done anything about it.
There have been problems with FFN . net before, and in the past I've tried to work around them or wait them out, but it's starting to get a little ridiculous. I am not sure what the plans will be going forward in terms of updates for SWW, but I am definitely considering some alternative options. I'll keep you posted here and on my Instagram account to let you know the outcome.
In the meantime, thanks for being here - I appreciate every one of you!
"Sadie, come look at this," Margaret implored, beckoning her friend closer. "Isn't this the most fetching piece of moire? I think it would do quite well for a walking dress."
Sadie examined the swath of fabric with a practiced eye. "It is a rather sweet color," she agreed, "but poplin or taffeta would hold up better."
"It only needs to last one season," Margaret pointed out. "The styles will likely change by next year, anyway."
"That's true," Sadie conceded, "and you like to keep abreast of the latest fashions, so I suppose that I ought to disregard the practical side of me that would insist on warning against a fabric that is unlikely to wear well from a utilitarian standpoint."
"Indeed. Set aside the misgivings of a tailor's assistant this once, and give me your opinion only as a friend, if you please."
"Well then," Sadie pronounced, a slightly indulgent look on her face, "I think that the moire is lovely, and that the color would suit you perfectly."
Margaret smiled in satisfaction, tucking the bolt of cloth under her arm. "I'll purchase seven yards," she said. "Will that give you enough to work with?"
Sadie nodded. "I looked over the pattern you gave me, and I think seven should be more than sufficient."
"You spoil me," Margaret declared, looping her free arm through Sadie's as they walked slowly down the rows of material. "Not every girl has a best friend who's so handy with a needle and thread. I really ought to make it up to you somehow. Is there anything here that's caught your eye?"
"Repayment isn't necessary, Megs," Sadie insisted. "Mr. Gorham is kind enough to let me use the sewing machine in the shop, and I've nothing else pressing to attend to on my breaks, anyway. It makes me happy enough to know that I'm piecing together an outfit that will delight my dearest friend and show off her natural elegance."
"Your work does have a way of making the wearer's good qualities stand out," Margaret agreed. "I don't understand how you do it, but there's a notable difference between a store-bought piece of clothing and Sadie Becker-made one."
Her friend smiled, looking pleased at the compliment. "I'm glad you think so, Megs. It's probably due to years of observing people - not just their accouterments, but what makes them come alive - that inward vivacity that speaks of who they are. Clothing, I think, can highlight or hide those aspects in subtle ways, but I try to reflect the spark that I see in a person when I sew for them. It's only an attempt to mirror the loveliness that's already there."
"A successful attempt more often than not," Margaret affirmed.
Noticing a bolt of apricot-colored poplin standing out amongst the rows of more somberly-hued fabrics, she paused.
"Speaking of which, isn't this a shade similar to the ribbon on your boater hat? It's absolutely precious, and it would look so pretty on you, maybe for a walking skirt if you matched it with your cream-colored shirtwaist and the right day jacket. You could almost transition it to the fall, even, if you paired it right."
Sadie considered the prospect, running her fingers over the cheerfully-colored cloth. Margaret could tell that she was tempted, for it really was her color, and the poplin would have matched several other pieces in her wardrobe perfectly, but after a moment's consideration, Sadie let the fabric drop from her hand and turned away.
"You're not even going to take it out?" Margaret asked, surprised at the other girl's restraint.
"I don't need another walking skirt right now, Megs."
"Not even with the Spring Social coming up?" Margaret queried. "It's going to be well attended this year - everyone in class will likely be there, and Minnie Taylor is going to bring some of her cousins from Upstate!"
"I'm sure that my sprigged cotton dress will serve just fine for the occasion."
"But you wear it all the time," Margaret pointed out. "It doesn't look new anymore, and everyone's already seen it on you."
"There's no one I need to impress, Megs," Sadie deflected. She sounded wistful for just a moment, but almost immediately shook off her dejection and added with a smile, "It's perfectly reasonable for you to splurge, however! I'm sure that James will appreciate the effect of a new frock, even if he'd think you gorgeous in whatever you chose to wear."
"He's completely oblivious to those kinds of things, unfortunately," Margaret sighed. "On Valentine's Day I was wearing the exquisite lavender silk that Helen lent me, and he didn't even say a word about it!"
"He loves you for you, Megs, not for your raiment," Sadie reminded her fondly. "I doubt that any lavish adornment could improve his high opinion of you. But now that we're on the subject, how was your date? James took you out to Henderson's, didn't he?"
Margaret nodded. "Our families were there too, of course, but they allowed us to sit at a separate table off to the side of the private dining room that James' parents had reserved for the occasion. It wasn't as upscale as Delmonico's, but the food was delicious, and the chocolate cake was absolutely divine. I've dreamt about it for two nights straight!"
"And did the lobster casserole live up to your expectations?"
"Far exceeded them, actually. If it would have been at all within the bounds of decorum, I would have ordered seconds!"
They continued chatting about the particulars of the dinner date as they made their way to the front of the store, where Margaret purchased the aforementioned seven yards of moire. Then the two girls left the fabric shop, strolling down the street in the direction of the confectionery, which would be their next stop.
"It seems like it was a successful date, then," Sadie observed, once Margaret had filled her in on all the details of the Valentine's Day dinner. "The perfect blend of sensibility and lavishness that would honor a lady and actually fill her stomach without making her feel unnecessarily obligated or uncomfortable at the expense. I commend James for his astuteness."
"He actually asked me about you," Margaret disclosed, lowering her voice just a bit. "Before we left to head home, he offered to order a slice of cake to take with us so that we could stop by the tenement and drop it off to you, since I'd mentioned that you'd be home that evening. I managed to dissuade him, but he did remark that it was a shame that you didn't have your own sweetheart to take you out for the holiday."
Sadie smiled faintly. "It was kind of him to remember me. You really have found yourself a thoughtful beau, Megs."
"He was perfectly right to broach the subject," Margaret opined, "and if I didn't know you so well, I would have agreed to his proposition, and we would have shown up on your doorstep with cake in hand. But I know that you don't particularly like company on Valentine's Day."
"It's true," Sadie acknowledged, "though it stems less from a dislike of company and more from a desire to not intrude upon my already-coupled friends' time with their partners. Valentine's Day ought to be an opportunity to celebrate love, not an occasion for consoling the unattached."
"But under different circumstances, you wouldn't be unattached," Margaret replied. "It's only been different lately - "
" - and I am learning to accept this new version of normalcy," Sadie interjected calmly. "That aspect of my life is unlikely to change so long as I reside in Manhattan within the same circle of acquaintance, and there's no point in dwelling on the past, not when the future is so full of possibility."
Margaret caught the unspoken desire to shift the subject of conversation and gamely went along with the segue. "What are you most looking forward to with regards to the future?" she asked.
Sadie's countenance brightened slightly, and Margaret wondered if, contrary to the claim that the other girl had just made about her "new version of normalcy," she was going to admit to a development regarding a romantic prospect. But to her surprise, it was Boston and not a boy that Sadie had in mind.
"My sister wrote to me last week and told me of an exciting opportunity," she disclosed, her voice eager as she told Margaret of the community home that Judith's letter had described. A few well-timed questions were necessary, as Margaret hadn't been aware of her best friend's desire to seek out - and perhaps one day develop - a place for families with disabled loved ones, but she could tell from the excitement in Sadie's voice that she had been thinking about it for quite some time.
"Well, that's a surprising revelation!" Margaret exclaimed, once her friend had apprised her of the details. "It sounds like this could be an excellent opportunity for you."
"Indeed; I find myself becoming both more eager and more anxious by the day as I wait for Judith's response," the other girl admitted. "I know that I shouldn't get my hopes up, as there are so many reasons why this arrangement might fail to materialize, but I can't stop myself from dreaming that it will, especially when it could mean a fresh start in so many ways."
There was a barely-perceptible note of sadness in her voice that Margaret didn't miss, but before she could say anything more, they arrived at the confectionery, and Sadie's momentary solemnity melted away as they entered the shop and her eye fell upon the mound of chocolate candies that had been enticingly arranged in the confectionery's display case.
"Megs, look, they've got the truffles back in stock!" she exclaimed. "Papa bought a few of them for me earlier this month, and they were delicious."
"I'll buy you a dozen," Margaret offered, reaching into her handbag for her money. "It's the least I can do when you're going through the trouble of sewing me a brand new dress."
"That really won't be necessary, Megs," Sadie demurred.
"But truffles are your favorite, and the pretty decorated ones aren't available year 'round!"
"I've had more than my fair share of sweets this month already," the other girl smiled, "but thank you for the offer all the same."
"Well, I'll find some way of making it up to you," Margaret declared. "Perhaps I'll come visit you in Boston when you land that job. I'm sure there will be plenty of diversion and society to be found in a new city, and the two of us can take it all in together!"
"I'm sure you're right," Sadie agreed. "And though I don't share your confidence that I'll be able to procure the position for certain, in the event that I do, a visit from you would be most welcome."
The words were cheerful, but the slight wistfulness in her voice was there again, and this time Margaret took the opportunity to press her a bit.
"For all of your hopefulness...you do seem to be a bit conflicted on the subject," she observed. "You haven't been yourself the past several weeks, in fact - don't think I haven't noticed."
Sadie was silent in response, her eyes fixed on the candies in front of her, but Margaret could tell that she was weighing how she should answer.
"It's just a passing melancholy, Megs," she said finally, brushing a piece of lint from her skirt. "I've no reason to be unhappy, not when my situation in life is comfortable and I have wonderful friends like you and things like the possibility of Boston to look forward to. It's just that there are moments when I falter in my resolve not to let my regrets over the past intrude upon the joy of the present. That's all."
Margaret made a sympathetic sound. It was no easy feat to live with the quiet burden that Sadie was carrying, and while her friend bore it stalwartly enough on most days, it was only natural that she'd have moments where the weight of it would become especially heavy.
"No one said anything, did they?" Margaret ventured, a protective indignation beginning to stir.
"Not to me," Sadie assured her, still staring at the display case. "But…to someone else. To Davey, actually."
Of course, Margaret thought.
"And…" she searched her friend's face, "how did he take the news?"
"The way any respectable boy would. He wasn't unkind about it, but he made it clear that it would be necessary to limit our association going forward. We've seen each other in passing, but haven't really spoken since."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Margaret said sincerely. "I know how much his friendship meant to you."
"It did mean a great deal to me. And I…" Sadie trailed off. "Well, I thought that maybe things would turn out differently - that I'd be able to preserve our friendship, somehow, because I'd already tried so hard to change and to leave behind the foolish, silly girl who'd made those mistakes - "
"You have changed," Margaret interjected firmly. "And regardless, I don't think the girl you were was to blame for what happened."
Sadie gave her a half-smile. "It's kind of you to say so, Megs," she murmured, "and I didn't mean to digress into deprecation like that. It's just disappointing to feel as though even my best attempts at self-improvement aren't enough to absolve my previous errors of judgment. And Davey was the kind of friend that I had hoped to keep...at least for a while longer."
"I actually thought that you were going to bring him up earlier when you were talking about the future," Margaret admitted. "The last time you spoke about the subject, he was the focal point of the conversation, if I recall correctly."
"As the catalyst for thinking more seriously about the future as a whole, Megs, not as a particular fixture in it," Sadie clarified, catching Margaret's unspoken meaning. "He has his own dreams and aspirations to pursue; I was simply taking a page from his book and was thinking about how I might aim to make my life count for something in a similar fashion, that's all."
"But you said that you'd hoped your friendship would last."
"Ridiculously enough, yes. But in truth, we would have gone our separate ways eventually, even if the past hadn't come up. I only wish that our association could have ended without me having to lose his good opinion. However…" Sadie squared her shoulders, "what's happened has happened, and I shan't let myself wallow in despondency over it."
Reaching into her own handbag, she withdrew her coin purse and stepped up to the counter, hailing the confectioner with a smile and ordering the usual quarter-pound of buttermints that she occasionally purchased for Lilly.
Margaret turned her own attention to the assortment of chocolates in the display case (unlike Sadie, she preferred bonbons to truffles), but she found her mind still occupied by the information that her friend had disclosed.
The opportunity in Boston and Sadie's enthusiasm for the prospect was surprising, mostly because Margaret simply hadn't been aware of her friend's previously-unrevealed desire to apply herself to anything of the sort. The situation involving David, however, was far less astonishing, nor was it at all unfamiliar. Margaret had seen enough of Sadie's so-called friends come and go, scared off by the malicious gossip that had reached their ears, and far more intent on preserving their own reputations than in standing by the kind and good-hearted girl whose character had been unfairly called into question. It irked Margaret that David had turned out to be one of the disloyal, for she'd thought him a more perceptive judge of character than that, and what's more, his friendship had been uniquely important to Sadie, which would only have made his sudden withdrawal more painful and rejecting.
Well, she could do much better than a newsboy, anyway, Margaret thought, indignance on her friend's behalf making her slightly petty. If Sadie did, indeed, end up in Boston, she'd have a fresh start and a chance to meet new people, and Margaret had no doubt that the other girl would be able to amass as many friends and suitors as she desired once she was beyond the reach of the hearsay that hounded her in Manhattan.
And then David could eat his heart out.
Seeing that the confectioner had finished packaging Sadie's order, Margaret stepped up to the counter. She ordered half a dozen bonbons and a small bag of toffee, then chatted lightly with Sadie until the sweets had been packaged and paid for. Business completed, the two girls left the shop, parting ways once they got to the street, for Sadie was going home to the tenement, while Margaret would be heading in the opposite direction to meet James at the park.
Pausing momentarily, Margaret opened up her box of bonbons, eyeing them with the intent of popping one into her mouth to enjoy along the way (it wasn't proper, but she was hungry, and no one was really looking), but before she could follow through on her intent, someone jostled her in the shoulder, nearly jarring the box of chocolates out of her hands.
"Whoops, sorry 'bout that, Miss."
Margaret looked up to see a newsboy touching his cap apologetically.
"Didn't see ya there on account of bein' a little too eager to get my hands on some of those good-lookin' sweets in the store."
So saying, he gave her a boyish grin and a little nod of his head, then sauntered past her to enter the confectionery, whistling as he went.
Margaret carefully repositioned the bonbons, thinking that maybe the close call was a sign that she ought not to be eating her purchases until she'd moved to a less-crowded place (it was the safer and more ladylike option anyway). Closing up the box, she tucked it away in her purse, then made her way down the street in the direction of the park.
A/N: We'll be joining the newsboy who just ran into Margaret in our next installment (any guesses as to who he is?), but in the meantime, thanks for reading this one! Please consider leaving a review on your way out (it would mean a lot, especially if story stats aren't updating anymore, to know that you came by). Thank you!
Guest Review Response:
Thank you so much for your comment! I have a friend who's very invested in Oscar's subplot, but we always joke about how she's in the minority (since other readers, understandably, don't like him very much), so it was fun to hear that someone else enjoys his POVs and thinks he's well-written. Thanks for taking the time to share - it always means a lot to me to know someone's still enjoying SWW. :)
