Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 32: Working it Out
The conversation with Race ended up taking longer than Davey expected, which meant that there wasn't time for him to take the signs that he and Sadie had painted over to the theater before dinner, but he figured that he'd have all of the following day to get that done, so he wasn't worried, and he found himself feeling uncharacteristically lighthearted as he made his way home from the lodging house with the setting sun at his back.
He felt good about the way things were going. The unknown factors were all still there, and the worries that he carried continued to weigh on him a bit, but he knew that he wouldn't be pulling off the rally alone. Having the support of several people converge on the day before the event was serendipitous timing, and it had done much to lift his spirits. He was grateful for that. Even the unexpected visit from Spot (and the ensuing interrogation) had served its purpose: Davey knew now that he was prepared, as prepared as he would ever be, and if the stoic leader of the Brooklyn newsies had been satisfied with his answers, well...maybe the rally really did have a chance of convincing the rest of the city's newsies to join the strike.
The walk back to the tenement was pleasant, and Davey took the stairs to his family's apartment two at a time, eager to be home after a long but satisfying day. He opened the door and was greeted warmly by his mother who had just finished putting dinner on the table and cheerfully ordered Davey to go wash up quickly so that he could partake of the repast.
Meals at the Jacobs apartment were usually rather quiet affairs (as three out of the four members of the family were not inclined to enthusiastic outbursts), but that night the conversation flowed freely around the table, and the excitement for the following day was evident, Davey and Les both looking forward to the rally (albeit for very different reasons), their mother unabashedly proud, and their father quietly approving. It was the kind of family dinner that they hadn't enjoyed in a while, and in the midst of a particularly trying season, it was an especially meaningful gift.
After the meal had been enjoyed and the kitchen area cleaned up for the night, Mayer and Esther retired to their room for the evening, Les sprawled out on the brothers' shared bed with his schoolbook, and Davey settled down at the table to sort through a box of miscellaneous small items that Mr. Becker wanted to be organized. It had been the easiest job on the landlord's list of tasks, and Davey, anticipating that he'd need something to do to keep his mind off of the upcoming rally, had jumped at the chance to make some money while putting his hands to an endeavor that was relatively undemanding.
The next half-hour passed by quietly, both of the Jacobs brothers engrossed in their respective tasks. Then Les abruptly sat up, snapping his book shut and declaring that he'd done all of the reading that he could handle for the night. He walked over to where Davey was working and gave the box a curious glance before settling himself into a chair next to his brother.
"How was your day at school, Les?" Davey asked, looking up from his work.
"Rather grand, I'd say," Les declared.
"I see..." Davey answered cautiously, thinking that the younger boy sounded far too chipper to be sincere. "Is Sally happy that you're back?" He'd since given up on trying to convince Les that being nine-almost-ten years old was still too young to have a sweetheart and figured that the only possible explanation for Les' enthusiasm was the chance that he'd gotten to spend more time with "his girl" at school.
Les looked thoughtful. "I don't know if 'happy' is the word I'd use," he said, "but that's irrelevant at the present time. The fact of the matter is, Sally and I are old news. She's moved on, I've moved on, and we're both the better for it."
The disclosure surprised Davey, but then again, he wasn't an expert on the subject of romantic relationships between nine-almost-ten year olds.
"Well...I guess that's good if it's worked out for the best on both sides," he offered hesitantly. Les didn't seem to be too cut up about the abrupt end to his short-lived fling, so maybe he was beginning to see reason. "It sounds like you're handling it well."
Les shrugged. "It could be worse. At first I was worried, because I'd already told the rest of the newsies I'd be bringing my girl to the rally. I can't lose face with the fellas, you know? But it turned out all right after all, because Abby's agreed to go with me instead."
"Wait - hold on, Les," Davey gave his brother a look of disbelief. "You invited Abby to the rally? Abby...Becker?"
"Do you know any other Abbys, David?" Les asked, a bit sarcastically.
"Les, Abby is our landlord's daughter!" Davey exclaimed. "You can't just go asking her on dates and expecting her to go out with you like that!"
"Why not?" Les asked. "She said yes, and Mr. Becker's nice. I doubt he'll mind. Besides," he added, "you can't talk. You're always hanging around Sadie, and she's our landlord's daughter, too."
"I am not always hanging around Sadie, and that is completely different," Davey answered stiffly, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "It's circumstantial, work or school related. Besides, you and Abby are too young to be out that late at night."
"Mom and Dad said I could go to the rally," Les reminded him loftily.
"Which is why, against my better judgment, you'll be going," Davey agreed. "But Abby's parents are a different matter. They're not going to want their daughter running around late at night unsupervised with a boy they don't know."
"But we won't be running around late at night unsupervised," Les replied, innocent as could be. "We'll be with you - a boy they do know."
Davey pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me that wasn't what you told her," he muttered, disliking the situation more and more by the second.
"It wasn't exactly what I told her," Les answered, "but that was the gist of it."
"Les…" Davey began.
"Don't you think it would be rude for me to retract my invitation now that I've already asked her to go and she's agreed?" Les demanded.
"Well...yes," Davey agreed reluctantly.
"And you're always telling me to keep my promises," his little brother continued. "Doesn't that apply to taking Abby to the rally?"
"It does, sort of, but - "
"And like Dad says, 'it's a foolish man who cancels an engagement with a lady friend!'" Les declared pompously.
Davey frowned. "When has Dad ever said that?"
Les waved his hand dismissively. "Dad's always quoting those old sayings. I'm sure he's said something like it at some point or another." He smiled guilelessly. "So, you see, David," he shrugged, "morally-speaking, my hands are tied. I really shouldn't back out of something I've agreed to, especially not when it's the landlord's daughter we're talking about. We wouldn't want to risk offending their family, now, would we?"
"You could have at least talked to me before you asked Abby to the rally," Davey grumbled, unhappy at the prospect of having to oversee yet another detail on an already busy night, and a detail as important as the safety of their landlord's youngest daughter, no less.
"There would have been no point in talking to you beforehand," Les contended. "I already know what you'd say: 'You should be concentrating on the strike, Les. Now is not the time to be thinking about girls or having fun of any kind, Les - '"
"And I would have been right," Davey broke in, ignoring the exaggerated portrayal of his lecturing. "This kind of situation is exactly why we shouldn't be thinking about girls, or chasing after them, or inviting them to rallies. We need to be focused right now. The strike should be our only priority."
As soon as the words left Davey's mouth, the thought suddenly crossed his mind that perhaps he was being just a tiny bit hypocritical.
Wait a minute...what?
Davey quickly pushed the thought aside. It was ridiculous. He was completely focused on the strike; he'd hardly thought about anything else for the past week and a half, and he'd poured every waking moment into figuring out how to advance the cause. He wasn't like Les, trying to leverage the situation to impress the newsies or the girls at school, and he wasn't like Jack, who seemed to have difficulty remembering the task at hand whenever Katherine was around. The strike was Davey's first concern - his only concern. It had always been his only concern.
...but hadn't he found his mind wandering only a few hours ago on the rooftop?
It's not the same thing, Davey told himself firmly. That was completely different.
Les gave him a quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"
Davey shook his head, belatedly realizing that he'd spoken the thought aloud. "Sorry, it's just…" he trailed off, quickly realizing that it would be unwise to elaborate. "Never mind, Les," he said. "Just...never mind."
The younger boy smirked. "Maybe you should try to think about something else besides the strike every once in a while, David," he suggested. "All of this focusing can't be good for you if it makes you talk to yourself like that."
"Bailing you out of your girl problems can't be good for me either," Davey shot back, finding his tongue rather quick to his own defense, "so maybe you're the one who should try to think every once in a while."
"Tried it; didn't much like it," came the careless reply. "Besides," Les shrugged, "why should I bother? You do more than enough thinking for the both of us."
Davey let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. It was hopeless. The damage was already done, and like it or not, he was going to have to figure out a way to accommodate this unexpected complication. Les was right - it would be rude to retract the invitation now, so if Abby's parents agreed to it, Davey was going to have to play older-brother chaperone, whether he liked it or not.
That didn't mean he couldn't draw the line somewhere, though.
"All right," he said reluctantly. "If Abby's parents agree, I'll take you both to the rally. She can stay for the first part of the night, during the meet and greet time and for the first few numbers of Miss Medda's entertainment. But after that, I'm taking her home. There's no telling how long the rally will go, and I don't want her to be out too late."
"But - "
"This is non-negotiable, Les," Davey said firmly. "I'm going to be busy enough trying to make sure everything runs smoothly at the rally, and your decision has already complicated things for me. I'll go along with your plan so that you can keep your word to Abby and so that you don't have to be embarrassed in front of the newsies, but I'm drawing the line there, and that's final."
The sternness in his voice brooked no opposition (there was a reason why he reserved ultimatums like these for times when he really needed them), and Les didn't protest. In fact, something about Davey's declaration must have affected him, because he suddenly rose from his chair and threw his arms around his older brother.
"You're the best, David," he said, grinning.
Davey laughed, a little surprised at the sudden show of affection. "Sure I am." He ruffled Les' hair, "Even though I never let you have any fun, right?"
"I know you're only looking out for me," Les replied, uncharacteristically appreciative. "Abby told me that I'd probably be dead if it wasn't for you."
"Those Becker girls are smart ones," Davey observed. "In fact," he added, unable to resist the rare opportunity to tease his brother, "I'm a little surprised that Abby agreed to go on a date with you. I thought she had more sense than that."
He expected his brother to respond with a scowl or with a sharp retort, but instead Les looked uneasy for a moment. Before Davey could question him, however, the younger Jacobs boy recovered his characteristic quick wit.
"At least I have a date for the rally," he smirked, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest. "That's more than can be said for some of us who only spend their time thinking."
"Somebody has to be unattached to run the night," Davey insisted.
Les gave him a condescending pat on the shoulder. "That's right. You keep telling yourself that." He made a show of checking the time. "Well, I've enjoyed our brotherly chat," he said with an exaggerated yawn, "but it's getting late, so I think I'll turn in now." He gave his brother a smug smile. "Don't stay up too late thinking, David."
And he walked off before Davey could say another word.
A/N: I may enjoy writing the Jacobs brothers just a little too much. Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter.
