Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 77: Of Ties and Table Manners

"Not a word," Jack growled the second Davey answered the door on the evening of their agreed-upon etiquette lesson. "I know what you's thinkin', and I'm tellin' you right now, I don't wanna hear it."

"I haven't said anything, Jack," Davey replied, a smile stretching across his face.

"But you was gonna," Jack emphasized. "I look like a gasbag in this hoity-toity getup." He gestured with disdain to the tailored suit that he was wearing, which Katherine had sent over to the lodging house so that he could get dressed before dinner that night. Wearing the ensemble hadn't been so bad at the tailor's - there, he'd had only the elderly man as an audience, and the conversation had been civil enough during the fitting and alterations, but the boys at the lodging house had been a different story, and Jack's nerves - already beginning to fray in anticipation of the ordeal awaiting him - had quickly worn thin at the good-natured jeers and taunts of his friends who had taken it upon themselves to make sure he knew exactly how ridiculous he looked in his fancy apparel.

"That is a little dressier than your usual attire," Davey agreed as he stepped back so that Jack could enter the Jacobses' apartment.

"It itches somethin' terrible," Jack grumbled. "And I can't for the life of me figure out how to knot this cursed tie." He pulled the article of clothing out of his pocket where he'd stuffed it earlier in a burst of frustration. "Figured you might be able to help me with that."

Davey gave the wrinkled accessory an amused look. "We'll need to iron it, first," he remarked. "It'll spoil the whole effect if it's rumpled like that."

"Do whatever you haf'ta." Jack tossed the tie to the other boy, who caught it neatly before draping it over his shoulder. "If you wanna strangle me too while you're at it, be my guest. It would save me from havin' to sit through dinner with one of the biggest jerks in all 'a New York."

"I wouldn't disagree with you there, but he's also your employer and Katherine's father," Davey observed mildly. "That means you have some things in common, right?"

Jack snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Davey gave him a sympathetic smile. "Hey...cheer up, Jack. Maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

"That's rich comin' from someone like you."

Davey shrugged. "Well, take it or leave it." He walked over to a set of cupboards, bending down so that he could rummage through them. "But I will say that it doesn't do much for your tough and blustering image to be so intimidated by a man you already beat once before."

"I ain't intimidated by him."

"Well, there you go!" Davey spun around, having emerged triumphantly with the iron in hand. "That's what I'm talking about - that's the Jack Kelly spirit!" He set the iron down on the stove with more force than strictly necessary, adding in a determined voice, "Pulitzer may act like you're beneath him. Are you beneath him?"

"No," Jack muttered.

"Pulitzer may think he's got you cornered! Are you cornered?"

"No!" Jack exclaimed. "And you can stop actin' like this is some kinda rally, Dave! For cryin' out loud, settle down why don'tcha?"

"My initial strategy of trying to sympathize with you didn't work," Davey replied evenly as he laid a cloth-covered board on the kitchen table and placed the tie on top of it. "I'm just attempting to do my duty as a friend to make sure you're confident and in the right frame of mind when you go to have dinner with your girlfriend's father. That's a big milestone."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, scratching his neck where the coat was irritating his skin. "I guess that's what's got me so touchy right now - I ain't sure how things is gonna go, or why the old man's even doin' somethin' like this." He paused, then admitted, "Feels like a trap in a lotta ways."

Davey made a sound of understanding as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "It makes sense why you'd feel that way." He placed the handkerchief over the tie, then walked over to the stove to check on the iron.

"Hey, where's everyone anyway?" Jack asked, realizing for the first time that the apartment seemed to be empty.

"My mom and Les are taking dinner to a family a few doors down," Davey explained. "They left right before you arrived; that's why the stove was still hot." He carefully removed the iron from the heated surface and walked over to the table. "My dad's resting in the other room."

Jack watched curiously as the other boy methodically pressed the tie, working deftly until he'd ironed the entire thing. He then set the appliance back down on the stove before going back to retrieve the tie, holding it up for it for a moment before deciding that it had passed muster.

"Good as new," he declared. "Let's complete your ensemble." He tossed the tie to Jack, who reluctantly draped it around his own neck.

"That's the idea," Davey nodded encouragingly. He pointed to one end of the tie. "Place that side over the thicker one, first. Good. Then cross the thicker tail over the narrow one...yes, like that...and then bring it under and over the place where they meet at your - "

Jack let out a sound of frustration. "Ain't as easy as you's makin' it sound." He fumbled with the piece of material, only managing to undo his previous progress in his confusion.

Davey patiently started the instructions over again, but Jack was already hot under the collar, and after a few more failed attempts (which included Davey securing a tie from his own wardrobe and trying to model the steps to no avail), he gave up and declared that Pulitzer could throw a fit if he wanted, there was no way that cursed thing was making it to dinner, formality be damned.

In the end, Davey resourcefully resorted to knotting Jack's tie around his own neck first, then loosening it just enough so that he could take it off and hand it back. Jack then put it around his own neck and tightened it until it fit correctly.

"Not the most conventional method, but it got the job done." Davey remarked, sounding pleased.

"You made it look easy," Jack said grudgingly.

"I've worn a tie to school for years," Davey reminded him. "That gives me a distinct advantage." He motioned Jack over to the table. "We can sit down while we discuss the other points you wanted to go over - mostly dinner etiquette, correct?"

Jack shrugged, feeling awkward and stiff in his suit as he walked over to take a seat opposite the other newsie. "Whatever you think's gonna help me survive dinner with the old man," he said. "I ain't the kind that's ever learned how to eat proper, and I don't wanna embarrass Plumber if I can help it."

He hadn't given Davey very many details when he'd approached him the week before and had asked him for help preparing for the dinner with Pulitzer. The older Jacobs brother had been reluctant at first, saying quickly that he wasn't very qualified to teach that sort of thing, but as usual, Jack had no trouble overriding his protests, and in the end they'd agreed to meet an hour and a half before Jack was due at Pulitzer's so that the lesson would be fresh in Jack's mind when he had to go implement it.

"You're dining at Pulitzer's tonight, right?" Davey asked. "Not at a restaurant?"

Jack nodded. "Just gonna be the three of us."

"Okay. That could be good - or bad, I guess, depending on how you look at it." Davey paused for a moment, looking a little distracted. "Sorry, I did think this through beforehand, I promise...I'm just trying to make sure that I remember everything. I'm not really the best person to be teaching you this; I'm hardly an upper-cruster myself."

"You figured this out quick enough," Jack remarked, poking at his tie.

"Yeah, but dining etiquette is different," Davey insisted. "I've only been to a few nice dinners in my life, and only one that could at all qualify as fancy. I can't say that's a lot to go off of, but fortunately the latter was only a few weeks ago, so I haven't forgotten all of it yet - "

"Wait a second," Jack interrupted. "You went to a fancy dinner a few weeks ago? Where?"

Davey looked a little embarrassed. "Some friends invited us to dine at the Waldorf-Astoria."

"The Waldorf?" Jack's eyes widened. "Geez, Dave! I didn't know you was used to rubbin' shoulders with that kinda company!" He'd forgotten that Davey had this whole other life that existed alongside of - but rarely overlapped with - his job as a newsie.

"They're childhood friends from Brooklyn," the other boy elaborated. "Their father is a businessman who got his big break a few years after we'd gone our separate ways, so the family's rich now, but we still see them occasionally whenever they come into town." He paused, then added, "It was kind of them to extend the invitation...but I'll be honest and say I felt just as uncomfortable going to that dinner as you look right now. The hotel was so grand that I felt out of place and underdressed, and I hardly ate anything because I was too busy trying to not make a fool of myself by knocking something over or using the wrong fork."

"That's gonna be me in an hour or so," Jack predicted dismally.

"No, it's not," Davey said firmly. "You're going to be fine, Jack. Pulitzer may try to throw you off balance, but don't let him get to your head. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, and you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not."

"It ain't really the old man I'm worried about," Jack clarified. "He don't mean a thing to me, 'cept for the fact that he's Katherine's father."

"So why the long face, then?"

Jack gave his friend a wry smile. "The fact that he's Katherine's father." He shook his head, scoffing a quiet laugh. "You're right, Dave," he muttered. "It ain't like me to be so jittery and nervous like this. I guess I just want everything to go smoothly so Kath won't have to be embarrassed, ya know?" The words surprised him; he hadn't really planned to disclose the real reason for his discomfiture (it had been easier to blame his ill-temper on the suit and tie), but Davey had a knack for getting the truth out of people, even when he wasn't trying.

"Anyway," Jack said, trying to regain some semblance of confidence, "I'm goin' to dinner ready or not, so we oughta get on with things."

"Yeah, we should," Davey agreed, but Jack could tell that he was thinking. "We'll start with the table etiquette first, and then we can move on the conversational aspect of things if there's time." He paused again, and Jack was almost going to prod him to continue, when Davey suddenly began to ramble.

"I just want you to know, Jack, that it's not about the rules, or the clothes, or the manners either - although they're still important," he said earnestly. "Katherine already loves you. She loves you for things that have nothing to do with money. And that's not going to change, no matter what happens at dinner. You're going to be fine, and tonight's going to go smoothly, and tomorrow at the circulation gate you're going to be telling me and the rest of the boys how you breezed through it without lifting a finger. Okay? You're going to be fine," Davey repeated. "More than fine. I'm calling it right now, and if Race was here, I'd even bet on it."

He stopped himself, giving Jack a small, almost apologetic smile. "I know that's not what you came here for, and that I'm probably laying it on a little too thick...but I guess I've been thinking a lot lately about money and privilege and - well, I just wanted to remind you that you don't have any reason to feel like you're less than Pulitzer, or anyone else, Jack. That's all."

Abruptly, Davey got up from the table. "I'll grab some plates and utensils that we can use for practice," he said, once again all business. "I should have thought of that beforehand." Retrieving the aforementioned items, he brought them over to the table and quickly began to set them out. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm not as organized or prepared for this as I could have been."

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "It's okay, Davey." The other newsie slid into his seat and Jack gave him a meaningful look, adding, "Pretty sure you already gave me everything I needed."

"But...we haven't even started yet." Davey sounded confused.

Jack shrugged. "Maybe it ain't about the rules or the clothes or the etiquette." He grinned at his friend, who still looked slightly bewildered, then scooted his chair closer to the table. "Enough chit-chat, though." He motioned to the set of utensils in front of him. "Give me the full story on what all these forks is for, Dave! The last time I checked, a fella only needed one to get a mouthful."


An hour later, Jack had been (Davey hoped) sufficiently enlightened in regards to the use of not only the forks, but the rest of the dinnerware as well. The newsie leader managed to pick things up quickly despite Davey's occasionally faltering instructions (it wasn't as though he was used to formal dining himself, after all - he could only go off of what he'd observed and picked up from others), and by the time Jack left to go meet Katherine before they headed to Pulitzer's mansion, he seemed to be in a much better frame of mind, even cracking a few jokes as he headed out the door.

Davey was happy to see the swagger return, even if it was a bit more subdued than what he was used to. Maybe his rambling pep-talk had done some good after all. He'd initially been at a bit of a loss for knowing how to motivate Jack; while it made sense that the newsie leader would be reluctant to dine with Pulitzer, Davey also didn't like seeing his normally confident friend so out of sorts, and though he could completely sympathize with the feelings of nervousness and frustration, he'd also seen enough of Pulitzer to know that dealing with the older man was like playing a game of chess - you had to keep a cool head, and you had to go into the encounter with a strategy you'd set up beforehand. Jack, Davey knew, wasn't the kind to typically think things through, but if he arrived at dinner flustered and upset, Pulitzer was sure to use that to his advantage, and that could only bode poorly for the rest of the evening.

Well, he'd done his best to make sure that Jack was in the right mindset by the time he left. Davey stood behind what he'd said - that table manners and talking points were only a part of the picture. Confidence was key, and if Jack could tap into the assurance and bravado that Davey knew he possessed, he'd be able to finesse his way through any other situation that came up. He just needed to not let Pulitzer get to his head.

Clearing away the place settings that he'd set out for the etiquette lesson with Jack, Davey put away the now-cool iron, then decided to head to the rooftop. He had already disrupted the quiet of the apartment for quite some time, and, though his father hadn't complained about the noise, Davey figured it would be better to give him a break. Besides, it would be better if no one was around to hear him working on his next project, anyway.

Leaving a note on the table as to his whereabouts, Davey quickly gathered a sheaf of papers from the small chest he kept under his bed, then made his way out of the apartment and up the stairs to the roof of the tenement.

The sun was already setting when he arrived, but he figured he'd have a good hour or so before it was fully dark, and that would likely be all the time he'd be able to devote to this next project anyway. Mr. Becker had given him several boxes of old records that he needed sorted and organized, and Davey had been steadily working away on the task for the last several nights, but he wanted to finish it soon.

For the moment, however, he'd make the most of the daylight that was left to him.


A/N: Thanks everyone for your patience in waiting for this update. I'd love to hear what you thought of it!