Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 122: Unforeseen Attachments
Sadie blew a stray wisp of hair out of her face as she made her way down the hallway towards the stairs that would lead to the third floor of the tenement. Her father's toolbox was heavy in her hand, and she felt slightly lopsided with only a bag of dried apples counterbalancing her other side, but it was gratifying to be heading back to the landlord's office having accomplished her goal, and her footsteps were light as she headed towards her destination.
She'd been working on processing some invoices for her father earlier that afternoon when a knock had sounded on the door and Mrs. Dowd, one of the tenants from the second floor, had poked her head in, reporting rather apologetically that the lock of the door on her apartment was coming loose and asking if Philip Becker would be available to fix it any time soon. The landlord, in fact, would be out until evening, having left the tenement to attend to some business with the Manhattan housing office, but Sadie had found herself volunteering to do the job instead, and accordingly had procured her father's toolbox before following the woman down to the second floor.
The lock in question had indeed been rather loose, and it had taken Sadie some time (and more than a little elbow grease) to procure the necessary replacement hardware and secure everything properly again, but eventually she'd succeeded, and the grateful Mrs. Dowd had thanked her effusively before sending her home with a package of Pippin apples she'd just dried as a token of her gratitude.
It was in moments like these that Sadie was thankful she'd grown up as the daughter of a landlord. There were times, especially in her younger years, when the constant upkeep of the property and the forbearance required to respond the tenants' many needs had grown tiresome, and she'd occasionally begrudged the never-ending string of interruptions that could take her father away at the drop of a hat, but over time, especially since she'd begun working with him and had gotten to know their neighbors better, she'd come to appreciate the unique kind of community such a living situation afforded. Not all of the tenants were friendly or warm, and some were downright belligerent, but by and large they were good-hearted, reasonable people, and Sadie had learned from her father's example that a little kindness and a genuine concern could go a long way in breaking down even the most of intimidating of barriers. So many neighbors had, over time, become like a second family, and she'd grown to love the feeling of helping those around her feel comfortable and at home while receiving their freely-offered gratitude and affection in return. Seeing families flourish, children grow up, job promotions and marriages and births and passings and the changing of seasons in so many lives was a unique and invaluable privilege, and though life as part of the landlord's family came with its own set of challenges, Sadie wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Passing by the apartment that Judith and her family had lately occupied before their return to Boston, Sadie slowed her pace, wondering if she ought to knock on the door to check in on Sophie Higgins. The young girl had been living at the tenement for the last few days, but they'd seen precious little of her, and though it was understandable that she would keep to herself in a new and unfamiliar place, Sadie wanted to make sure she knew that she was safe and welcomed whenever she was ready to venture out.
Retracing her steps, she stopped in front of the apartment in question and set her father's toolbox down, knocking lightly on the door. At first, no one answered, but eventually she heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer, and then Sophie cautiously opened the door, peeking out into the hallway with a wary look.
"Good afternoon, Sophie," Sadie said, giving the other girl a friendly smile. "I'm Sadie, the landlord's daughter." Race had introduced them briefly the morning his sister had moved in, but they hadn't talked since then, and she didn't want to assume that Sophie remembered who she was when there had been so many other things going on.
"Hello," Sophie answered. There was a studied neutrality in her tone; it was neither welcoming nor distant, and though the easy affability that characterized her brother's demeanor was absent, Sadie caught an underlying resemblance almost immediately, that slightly distrustful, canny look, as though the Higgins siblings were used to interfacing with all kinds of people but weren't prone to quickly letting them in.
"I was wondering if there was anything that you needed to make your stay more comfortable," Sadie asked, deciding to start off with a fairly innocuous inquiry. "If the apartment's been too cold, I can bring over more blankets - I know it can get drafty on this floor sometimes when the wind picks up."
"It's been plenty comfortable, thank you," Sophie answered. "Don't think I've ever slept in a bed this big in my whole life."
Sadie smiled at the slight note of enthusiasm in the younger girl's voice. "My sister's family was recently staying in that unit, and my nephews loved jumping on that bed," she confided. "They took a couple of tumbles, but in the end were hardly worse for wear, though I can't say the same for the mattress. I'm glad to hear that you've found it serviceable despite its slightly rough treatment by its previous occupants."
"My brother and I had bunk beds back when we was both livin' in Brooklyn, and we'd jump off of 'em all the time," Sophie smiled. "Tony took a fall from the top and hit his head real bad once; said he was seein' stars for a while, and he kinda felt poorly the rest of the afternoon. Now whenever he does somethin' stupid, we joke about it bein' on account of that little accident, 'cause lookin' back on it he was probably concussed, but there weren't anyone around to tell us how to take care of his injury, so we didn't do nothin' for it." Her grin widened as she added proudly, "Fortunately, he's plenty smart even without the brains he busted up."
She'd been slowly opening the door wider as she'd been speaking, and now was standing nearly face to face with Sadie in the hallway.
"Your brother seems quite clever indeed," Sadie agreed, inwardly pleased at having drawn the younger girl out. "It must be a valuable asset to have in the headline hawking profession."
"S'pose so," Sophie answered candidly, "though sometimes I wonder if it's mostly grit that makes or breaks a sale. Most of the newsies I've run across ain't clever so much as they's stubborn - they ain't the kind to take no for an answer."
"I can't say that my own experience contradicts your assessment," Sadie laughed, thinking of the occasional time she'd been pestered into a purchase, "though occasionally you'll find a newsboy who's polite and well-mannered enough."
"That's true; they ain't all cut from the same cloth, same as most folks who's got the same profession. Back in Brooklyn, I used to work in a tea factory, and we had all types of girls there, some real warm and friendly, others that liked to keep to themselves - didn't matter, so long as they could do the work." Sophie cocked her head slightly, eyeing the toolbox by Sadie's feet. "Speakin' of work, you look like you's on your way to go fix somethin'."
"On my way back, actually," Sadie replied. "One of our tenants down the hall had a door lock that needed repairing."
"You's handy, then." Sophie looked pleased. "Wouldn't have expected it from a girl like you; you look more like the type who'd rather be out shoppin' or gossippin' with friends - no offense."
"I actually do enjoy shopping," Sadie admitted, "though I'm not particularly fond of gossip. And to be honest, I don't do much work around the tenement anymore. I used to assist my father with his duties on a regular basis, but now that he has Davey working for him, there's not much for me to do unless both of them happen to be out, like today."
"Your pa's real nice," Sophie remarked. She'd met Philip when she'd moved into the tenement, the landlord having been on hand to turn over the keys and acquaint his guest with the layout of her temporary abode. "Seems like it runs in the family, though I hear you got a ma and some sisters too that I ain't seen yet."
"Would you like to meet them?" Sadie offered. "I was about to head back that way. My mother is out with some friends, but both of my sisters are home, and your company would certainly be welcome."
Sophie hesitated. "I wouldn't want to get underfoot," she demurred.
"But you wouldn't be underfoot at all!" Sadie reassured her. "In fact, I was planning to bake a batch of cookies this afternoon. If you'd like to join me, I could use an extra pair of hands." It was a slightly impulsive offer, for she knew that the chance of something going awry in the kitchen was not unlikely, but at the moment, she found herself unable to come up with a better idea to coax the younger girl out.
"Well...I guess if I could be a help to you, I wouldn't mind." Sophie's words were uncertain, but Sadie could tell that she was eager to concede. "My brother won't be done sellin' papes for a while, so it'd be nice to pass the time with some company." With a small smile, she disappeared into the apartment, only to return a few seconds later with the key in hand.
Sadie watched as her companion locked the door, the younger girl's appearance more visible now in the brighter light of the hallway. When Sophie had arrived, she'd been sporting several bruises and had appeared rather gaunt, but the last several days seemed to have facilitated some improvement, and Sadie was glad to see her guest looking a little more robust.
Leading the way down the hall, she ushered Sophie up to the third floor, where they stopped by the landlord's office to drop off the toolbox. Passing by her father's desk, Sadie caught sight of the stack of invoices that she'd been in the middle of processing and hesitated, but quickly set the thought of the unfinished task aside. She could return to finish up later, for it wasn't an urgent matter, and it was more important to attend to her guest at the moment.
Abby and Lilly were both lounging in the sitting area when they arrived, the former reading a book and the latter resting in her usual spot on the sofa. Sadie made the requisite introductions (noting the unveiled curiosity on Sophie's face as she was apprised of Lilly's condition), then tried to draw her sisters into conversation, but Abby was characteristically perfunctory with her remarks, and Lilly didn't say anything, so eventually the discourse stalled, and Sadie decided to cut her losses and repair to the kitchen with her guest.
Her stated plans to bake a batch of cookies hadn't been pure fabrication; the thought had crossed her mind earlier that day, but she hadn't had the time to follow through on it, and now she found herself scrambling a bit in the kitchen as she attempted to procure the necessary supplies while continuing her conversation with Sophie.
Fortunately, the younger girl seemed to be growing more and more comfortable by the minute, and before long they were working side by side, Sadie reading the recipe instructions and measuring out the ingredients while Sophie mixed and stirred. Once their first batch of cookies had made it into the oven, they sat down to wait at the kitchen table, Sophie now chattering a mile a minute and Sadie listening attentively, pleased that her guest had quickly made herself at home.
Sophie had just launched into another story about her brother (every bit the proud younger sister, Sadie noted, though the younger Higgins sibling wasn't above the occasional good-natured jab), when the sudden sound of shuffling footsteps was heard in the hallway, and Lilly appeared, followed closely by Abby.
"She said she wanted to join you," the latter explained, shrugging a little as Lilly took a seat at the table beside Sadie. "I think she's been listening to your conversation."
Sophie grinned. "I don't blame ya, Lilly - my brother's real entertainin', even if he ain't here in the flesh."
Lilly didn't say anything in response, but there was a small smile on her face.
"If it's all the same to you…" Abby caught Sadie's eye, "I think I'll go back to the sitting area and finish reading. I was in the middle of a really exciting chapter of my book."
"That's fine," Sadie agreed. "I'll call you if I need any assistance."
Abby nodded, then made her retreat.
"So, where was I?" Sophie resumed her tale, jumping immediately back into her recounting of the time that "Tony" had nearly burned down the apartment where they were staying in an attempt to cook a squirrel that they had caught, and Sadie watched in fascination as Lilly listened raptly, her normally blank countenance taking on a glow of unconcealed interest. Sophie Higgins was an animated storyteller, and her knack for the theatrical seemed to grow even more now that her audience had doubled in size. It was no wonder that Lilly's attention had been caught - and yet, the older girl's absorption felt like a minor miracle as well, for there were very few things that drew her out of her stupor these days, and seeing that spark of interest spontaneously come to life was a rare and precious sight that Sadie treasured.
Quietly, so as not to disturb the story, she went to check on the cookies and saw that they were baking up beautifully. Past experience told her not to be too sure that all was well (at least, not until she'd tried them), but she couldn't stop herself from smiling in satisfaction as she slid the baking sheet back into place, then returned to listen to the tale unfolding at the table.
"So then I turn around all startled-like, and who do you think's standin' behind me?" Race demanded as he and Davey walked down the street in the direction of the Becker tenement.
"Spot Conlon," Davey answered, already knowing where the story was going but humoring the question nonetheless.
"Spot Conlon!" Race threw up his hands. "Just lurkin' there like some kinda evil gremlin, watchin' me with that toothy grin of his!"
"I'm sure he wasn't intending to startle you."
"Oh, he was intendin' to all right," Race retorted. "That bummer acts like he's all serious and stoic, but he gets a smug kinda satisfaction out of scarin' folks. Used to spook the superintendent at the Brooklyn lodgin' house somethin' fierce - almost made the old man go catatonic once or twice."
"Did he say why he was in Manhattan?" Davey asked. He'd noticed the Brooklyn leader talking to Race, but Spot had stalked off before he'd gotten within earshot, simply giving Davey a nod of acknowledgement and then disappearing into the crowd.
"He only asked me how Sophie was doin'," Race replied, still sounding nonplussed. "One of his birds must've told him she was here, but it don't make much sense why he'd come all the way across the Bridge just to ask 'bout her himself. He could've sent one of his boys instead."
Davey made a sound of agreement, but didn't venture a conjecture regarding the Brooklyn leader's motivation. If there was one thing he was fairly certain he'd never understand as a newsie, it was the enigmatic Spot Conlon and his ambiguous association with the Higgens family. He'd noticed the unusual dynamic between Race and Spot the first time he'd seen the boys in question interact during the strike, but still hadn't been able to discern (whether from his own observations or from Race's oblique remarks) what the nature of their relationship was, and how whatever past they shared played into things.
"Anyway, that bummer's hidin' somethin'," Race concluded as they turned onto Baxter Street. "Ain't sure what it is, but he seemed satisfied to hear Sophie's been doin' all right."
"How has she been sleeping?" Davey asked. "It must be a little disorienting to be in a new place, and I know you have trouble sometimes even at the lodging house, though I suppose insomnia's not really a hereditary thing…"
"She's been sleepin' fine," Race answered. "Says the bed's real big and comfy. Gonna be hard for her to leave the tenement when it comes time, I think. Wherever she's goin' next, it ain't gonna be the same as havin' her own apartment all to herself." He grinned. "She told me you've stopped by a few times to check on her. That was real nice of you."
Davey shrugged. "If it was Les, I'd want someone to look in on him too just to make sure he was all right." Race had been visiting Sophie every day after he finished selling, so the extra check ins probably weren't necessary, but the habits of an older brother were hard to break.
Reaching the Becker tenement, they climbed the stairs to the second floor. The unit Sophie was staying in was closer to the stairs than the Jacobses' apartment, and Davey was about to bid Race farewell and head down the hallway, when he heard the gambler mutter, "Well, that's strange."
"What's wrong?"
"The light's off inside. Maybe she's takin' a nap." Race raised his hand and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, he knocked again, a little more forcefully.
Silence.
"Do you think she might have taken a walk?" Davey suggested.
"I told her not to go wanderin' around," Race groused, "but that don't mean she wouldn't do it anyway." He looked like he was about to head down the stairs to start searching the streets, but Davey stopped him.
"Maybe she's with the Beckers. We should at least check there first. I know Sadie's been wanting to connect with her."
Race gave him a wry smile. "You's desperate for any excuse to see your brunette half-pint, ain'tcha?"
"I'm trying to save you from going on a wild goose chase," Davey answered, turning on his heel to walk towards the stairs. "Though I'm not sure why I'm bothering with it if you're going to repay my goodwill with teasing."
"I'm just tryin' to loosen you up," Race quipped as they made their way up to the third floor. "Havin' a sense of humor's good for your health. I'm surprised you ain't read that somewhere in one of them books of yours."
They came to the Becker apartment, and Davey, choosing to forgo a sarcastic retort in favor of settling the matter at hand, knocked on the door. A moment or two later, it opened to reveal Sadie.
"Sorry to bother you, Chare," Davey said quickly, "but Race is looking for Sophie. Is she with you by any chance?"
The landlord's daughter smiled. "She is, in fact, and both of you arriving right now is excellent timing. We've just taken some cookies out of the oven. Come and help us eat them!" Opening the door wider, she ushered them into the apartment and bid them to follow her to the kitchen.
Sophie and Lilly were seated at the table, the former chattering away in an animated fashion and the latter smiling slightly at her antics. A large plate of snickerdoodle cookies sat between them, and the tantalizing smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the air.
"Tony!" Sophie exclaimed, catching sight of her brother. "Sorry, you must've been wonderin' where I was! I lost track of the time."
"Ain't a problem, Soph," Race waved off her concern. "Fortunately, Davey had the bright idea of stoppin' by to see if you was with Beck."
"We made three batches of cookies," Sophie announced proudly. "And I've been entertainin' Lilly here with stories about all the harebrained things you've done over the years."
"Hey!" Race protested. "That ain't right, Sophie - a fella's gotta keep his respectability!"
"He says that as though he had any to begin with," Davey muttered under his breath. Race gave him a slightly insulted look, but he ignored it.
"Would you like something to drink, Race?" Sadie asked, motioning for her newly-arrived guests to have a seat at the table. "I've just made hot chocolate for the girls, but we have tea and coffee as well."
"Nothin' for me, thanks, Beck," the gambler declined as he slid into a chair. "I'll have a couple of those cookies, though - they look real tasty."
"Thanks to Sophie's help, we managed to pull off a small but successful baking spree," Sadie answered, a note of satisfaction in her voice. Turning to Davey, she smiled. "Your usual beverage of choice, Mr. Jacobs? Or would you prefer something different today?"
"The usual, please," he answered.
He'd recently fallen into the habit of drinking the tea that she enjoyed during their tutoring lessons (for Sadie perpetually had a pot of it at the ready, saying that it helped take the edge off of the cold), and while the sweet and spicy blend of oranges and cloves couldn't rival the sheer decadence of hot chocolate or the invigorating jolt of coffee, partaking of it had more or less become second nature, now.
"These are some first-rate cookies," Race announced, licking cinnamon-sugar crumbs from his fingers. "If I'd woulda known you was such a good baker, Soph, I wouldn't have worried so much about you gettin' enough to eat in Brooklyn."
His sister grinned. "Me and Sadie made the first two batches together, but the last one I did almost all by myself."
"No surprise there; you's a real smart one," Race declared affectionately.
"We made extra, too, so you can take some back to the lodging house," Sadie added. "And I'll send some home for your family as well, Davey."
"You's a gem," Race mumbled, his mouth already full of another cookie.
The landlord's daughter set a steaming cup of tea in front of Davey, and he thanked her as she joined them at the table, her own cup in hand.
The little group chatted for several minutes, Sophie regaling them with yet another tale (punctuated regularly by Race's good-natured protests) as the small mountain of cookies on the table slowly diminished. Just as Sophie had concluded her story, a sound was heard in the entryway of the Becker apartment, and moments later Miriam appeared in the kitchen, accompanied by a tall, middle-aged woman.
"Hello everyone," the landlord's wife said, taking in the sight of the group at the table. "Mrs. Hart is just stopping in for a moment to pick up a recipe."
The group murmured their greetings, which the visiting woman returned in a perfunctory fashion, but when she caught sight of Sadie, her expression changed almost immediately from indifference to a look of icy disdain. She didn't say anything, merely stared at the girl for a moment before sweeping away to follow Miriam to the pantry, but Davey saw Sadie shrink out of the corner of his eye, and he found himself resisting the urge to place a reassuring hand over her fingers, which were nervously clenched in the fabric of her skirt. He had no idea who this Mrs. Hart was or what was behind her belligerent expression, but her wordless scorn had clearly discomposed the landlord's daughter, and if it had gone on for much longer, he might have gotten to his feet and given the woman a taste of her own medicine, regardless of the rules of propriety.
Thankfully, the recipe procurement took only a moment, and Mrs. Hart was soon gone. After seeing her to the door and bidding her farewell, Miriam appeared in the kitchen again.
"I don't believe I've met all of you," she stated, her eyes falling on the Higgins siblings.
Race immediately got to his feet, doffing his newsboy cap
"Please to meet - er, make your acquaintance, Ma'am," he said, bobbing a little bow. "The name's Higgins - Anthony and Sophie respectively. My sister's the one who's been stayin' downstairs these last few days, and we's real grateful to you and your family for the hospitality, Ma'am." He set his cap back on his head before extending his hand, the nervousness evident in his voice as he added, "Name's Anthony, by the way. Sophie's brother."
Davey hid an amused smile as he watched the normally composed newsie trip over himself in an effort to make a good impression on the landlord's wife. It was a side of Race he'd never seen before, but he suspected that it stemmed from a heartfelt gratitude for this family of strangers who had sheltered Sophie in her hour of need without asking for anything in return. Race, from what Davey had observed, wasn't used to receiving unconditional acts of charity, but he knew a boon when he saw one, and he was clearly eager to be as obliging as he possible in response.
Sophie, it turned out, was much more poised than her brother, and she introduced herself to Miriam easily while the still-fidgety Race took his seat beside her.
"Sophie is a wonderful storyteller," Sadie informed her mother once the introductions had been completed. "She's kept Lilly quite entertained this last hour or so."
"I was wondering what might have incentivized her relocation to the kitchen!" Miriam looked surprised but also pleased. "It's not often that she's willing to leave the comfort of her place on the couch." Smiling at Sophie, she added, "You must be a wonderful storyteller indeed."
"I try," the younger girl shrugged. "It helps when me and my brother have lived pretty interestin' lives - it don't take much embellishin' to just retell the facts."
"Well, don't let me stop you," the landlord's wife declared. "I'll be here in the kitchen working on dinner, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like. We're having lamb stew tonight, and you're invited to join us - all of you."
"That's a real nice offer, Ma'am," Race answered, getting to his feet, "but I actually oughta be headin' back to the lodgin' house now. The fellas'll be expectin' me." He looked over at his sister. "Soph, if you wanna stay, though…"
"I'd like to," she answered, hesitating a bit but clearly desirous to remain.
"Oh, please do!" Sadie entreated. "It's been lovely getting to know you better, and I haven't seen Lilly smile this much in a long time."
"Well…" Sophie smiled, "I guess I will, then."
"I should probably head out too," Davey spoke up reluctantly. "I'm supposed to help Les with his schoolwork before dinner. Thanks for the offer though, Mrs. Becker. I've eaten enough of your cooking by now to know that I'm definitely missing out by not staying."
"You'll have other chances," the landlady said, brushing off the compliment. But Davey saw her smile.
"Don't forget to take some cookies with you," Sadie urged, pulling a pair of paper bags from the credenza and filling them with the baked goods. "They're best when eaten fresh."
"The fellas'll sure enjoy 'em," Race said appreciatively.
"As will my family," Davey added. "Thanks, Chare - these were excellent." He smiled, meeting her eyes in silent praise of her small victory in the kitchen, and she seemed to catch his meaning, for her face visibly brightened for a moment before she looked away.
After saying their goodbyes to the rest of the group, Race and Davey made their way to the door, accompanied by Sadie. "Thank you for stopping by," she said as they stepped into the hallway. "It was pleasant to have your company, and I'm glad the timing worked out for all of us to be together."
"Yeah, sure thing, Beck," Race grinned. "It was fun." He gave the landlord's daughter a little nod, then started down the hallway.
"I'll see you tomorrow night for tutoring, Sadie," Davey called over his shoulder as he hurried to keep up with the other newsie's brisk pace. "Thanks again!"
"See you tomorrow night for tutoring, Sadie," Race mimicked as soon as the door to the apartment had closed behind them. "Oh, don't mind me; I'll just be over here daydreamin' about your 'excellent' bakin'' and your pretty lil' face until our next rendezvous rolls around."
"If you're going to insist on going there, Race..." Davey pulled his cap off of his head, assuming an air of exaggerated formality. "It's real nice to meet - I mean make - your acquaintance, Mrs. Becker! My name's Anthony, and I'm Sophie's brother! Lemme try an' act all proper an' civilized for once! Speakin' of which, did I mention I was Sophie's brother?"
Race guffawed, looking a little embarrassed at the humorous portrayal but amused nonetheless. "All right, all right," he shoved Davey in the arm. "You's ruthless, ya know that?"
"I'm pretty sure I learned it from you," Davey shrugged, dropping the act.
"Yeah, well, if that's the case, seems like I might've taught you a little too well."
They made their way down to the second floor, bantering as they went, then said their goodbyes, Race continuing down the stairs as Davey turned towards his own family's apartment. He'd have a full evening ahead of him; between helping Les with his schoolwork and starting on another clerical project for Mr. Becker, he'd be lucky to find any time to relax, but the brief respite at the Becker apartment had energized him, and he found the usual weariness that he felt at the end of the day diminishing somewhat.
He'd been pushing himself a little more lately, trying to sell extra papers to save up money for his dad's impending surgery which would be taking place at the end of the month. Dr. Wright had made a few additional house calls over the past week, counseling Mayer and Esther on what to expect, but Davey hadn't been home for any of the visits, so he still hadn't met the man. His parents, however, had spoken highly of the doctor, so that was a good sign, and at any rate, it would be a huge relief to have Mayer's leg finally set properly and on its way to healing for good.
I guess things have a way of working out eventually, Davey reflected as he drew near his family's apartment. He let himself in, greeting Les who was already seated at the kitchen table in reluctant anticipation of starting his schoolwork. A glimpse of the bag of snickerdoodle cookies and the promise of having one after the schoolwork was completed lifted his spirits considerably, and Davey found himself pleasantly surprised at his brother's subsequent alacrity in applying himself to the task at hand.
Once Les' assignment had been completed (and the agreed-upon incentive gleefully consumed), the younger boy retired to the corner of the apartment to putter around, and Davey got out the box of paperwork that he needed to process for the landlord. It was a fairly simple job, just pulling names and numbers from a stack of forms and recording them in a ledger, and he found himself reaching for a cookie as he worked, the taste of cinnamon sugar bringing his thoughts back to the Beckers' kitchen where he'd been less than an hour before.
It had been gratifying to see Sophie Higgins so thoroughly enjoying herself. After the traumatic events that she'd endured, it must have been comforting to find a safe and welcoming place with the Becker family - no matter how temporarily - and the fact that she'd formed a rapport with Lilly too seemed to be a serendipitous occurrence, for Davey hadn't missed the grateful looks on the faces of both Sadie and Mrs. Becker when they'd acknowledged Sophie's knack for piquing Lilly's interest.
And this, he reflected, was why Sadie's natural, easy bent for bringing people in was so important, because it opened the door for these kinds of connections and created space for people to simply be themselves and to feel at ease in one another's company. There was something special about that, and despite the fact that Sadie didn't consider herself particularly competent in the domestic sphere, the fact remained that her gift of hospitality nurtured others in a way that perfectly-executed hostessing alone could not.
One day, Davey promised himself, he'd get her to see the truth of how remarkable she really was.
It had been almost three weeks since that night on the rooftop when he'd finally admitted to himself that he was in love with her, but the revelation felt as fresh as though it had fallen only yesterday. He didn't think he'd been acting any differently, but he felt different, lighter and happier and more settled inside, and he'd found himself noticing things that he'd never taken the time to notice before: the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face, the impressionistic effect of ripples in a puddle of water, the savory smells coming from street vendors' carts as he passed through certain areas of town, all things that had always been there but that he'd routinely brushed past, too preoccupied with the cares of life to realize the simple beauty that he was missing. But now it was as if the world had become more vibrant and colorful, and though the streets of Manhattan were as crowded and dirty as they ever were, something about them had changed.
This heightened appreciation had piqued his inspiration, and he'd managed to finish the poem about Sadie that he'd started weeks prior, his at-the-time confusing feelings spilling out onto the pages of his journal in a feverish attempt to make sense of his condition. He'd hit an impasse at one point (some part of him perhaps knowing the truth but too afraid to acknowledge it), but now that he'd willingly succumbed, his verve had been renewed, and he'd completed the last few stanzas easily.
He'd always thought that falling in love would be a strange and overwhelming experience, the kind of disconcerting condition that would leave him feeling rattled and anxious and desperate to regain emotional self-control. And for a brief time, it had felt that way. But now that the sensation had settled in, it no longer felt like that. It felt soft and gentle and good, like being able to let out a breath that he'd been holding for too long, or like waking up naturally after a full night's rest. And the fact that this gratifying sense of satisfaction was completely, utterly illogical didn't perturb him in the slightest.
It made absolutely no sense, for he'd always thought that if he ever succumbed to romantic feelings it would be the result of finding someone who was like him: quiet, introspective, and perhaps a bit ungainly, someone whose temperament mirrored his own and who would be sensible and serious and above all easy to understand. But instead he'd fallen for a cheeky, impulsive girl who made him feel all sorts of confusing emotions and who made him want to try things that he never would have tried himself. He hadn't been looking for something like this, hadn't expected it would be someone like her, hadn't thought that he could care so deeply or so much...
And yet, here he was.
And even though he knew in his heart that she would never feel the same kind of regard for him, it didn't dampen his admiration in the slightest, for he was convinced that she was absolutely worthy of being adored, whether or not she loved him back.
Suddenly realizing that he'd stopped working, Davey shook his head, trying to refocus his attention on the task in front of him. But even as he resumed his scribing, he found his mind drifting back to his previous ruminations, his fingers recording the names and numbers in carefully measured strokes, but his thoughts still preoccupied by subjects of a far less pragmatic nature: visions of soft glances and sweet smiles, the soothing sound of lighthearted laughter, and of the taste of cinnamon sugar and spiced orange tea on his tongue.
A/N: Sorry these installments have gotten so long...Davey's not concise to write, especially when he's twitterpated. I know that lately this story has been mostly little interactions and seemingly insignificant moments, but I promise that they're all building up to bigger, more interesting situations, so I hope that it hasn't been too frustrating in the interim. Thanks for hanging in there! If you have a moment to leave a review, I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter!
