Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 126: Opposing Forces
Esther watched as Mayer ushered their older son into the bedroom, closing the door so that Les wouldn't overhear. They'd just been discussing David's tardiness in returning from his errand, something very out of character for him, and Mayer had been suggesting that they go out to search if there was no sign of him within the hour, but then they'd heard David come in through the door, and a mixture of relief and worry-induced irritation had immediately taken hold. Mayer had gotten to his feet, his expression one of grim disapproval, and Esther had resisted the urge to check his momentum with a reminder to control his temper, for she could tell from the look on his face that he would not be opposed.
Accordingly, her husband had summoned David, who'd entered the room with an already-guilty expression on his face, no doubt having picked up on his father's displeasure. He remained standing in the corner by the door in his wet clothes, deferential in posture but visibly anxious as he waited for his father to speak.
Mayer eased himself into the faded armchair on the opposite side of the room, gingerly propping up his injured leg.
"First of all," he began, "I'd like to know why you've returned over an hour late from your trip to the housing office, and…" he gave his son a reproachful look, "why you're completely soaked to the bone."
Esther could see David tensing at the note of reprimand in his father's voice.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Dad," he apologized. "I came across Sadie on my way back, and she was going out to run errands. I thought I'd go along just in case she needed help with anything, and we, um, got caught in the rain."
"I see." Mayer leaned forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he considered the answer for a moment. "Did Miss Becker ask for your help?"
"Well…" David hesitated. "No, sir...she didn't."
"And did your presence, in fact, end up providing any tangible benefit to her?"
David faltered, and Esther watched as he struggled to respond, but before he could come up with a reply, Mayer continued sternly.
"The more important question, David, is this: have you developed feelings for our landlord's daughter?"
"Feelings?" David echoed. "What - what kinds of feelings?"
"Feelings of romantic attraction, specifically."
"Well..." David swallowed. "I..."
"If you can't tell me plainly, I doubt you've thought through the matter very well," Mayer interjected. The statement hung in the air for a moment, and Esther watched as David shifted uncomfortably under his father's gaze, distress growing on his face as he struggled to come up with anything to say in response to the blunt accusation.
"I didn't want to have to broach this subject with you," Mayer continued after a moment, "but this afternoon's spontaneous excursion with Miss Becker has made it necessary to remind you of the propriety that you've obviously forgotten." His tone turned more severe as he added, "I don't know what's gotten into you, David, but running around in the rain with a young lady who is unattached to you and who is our landlord's daughter no less is completely unacceptable behavior. I thought you knew better than that. It's unfortunate enough that you've taken a shine to her, but to make your admiration so clearly apparent is foolishness of another kind."
"I wasn't trying to make anything apparent," David pleaded, his voice rising a notch. "I've tried to be careful, I - I've never said anything - "
"It doesn't matter that you haven't said anything," Mayer interrupted. "The way you look at Miss Becker is eloquent enough."
"It...is?"
"Yes, David it is. In fact, I'm surprised that all of Manhattan doesn't know about your fancy for her. It seems that your infatuation has clouded your ability to see clearly and to recognize your own actions. Ever since the tenement party, you've been looking at her like a lovesick fool who's lost all sense of decorum."
David opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly stopped himself, dropping his gaze to the floor and falling silent as a welter of emotions flickered across his face. He looked absolutely mortified and almost a little stunned, as though he was still trying to process his father's reprimand, and Esther was about to interject in an attempt to soothe him, when Mayer continued speaking.
"You cannot be thinking about her that way, David." The tone was a bit less severe this time, but the note of admonishment was clear. "Remember that she is not just another girl in your class. She is our landlord's daughter. You know what that means, don't you?"
"Yes sir," David answered softly, still staring at the ground. "I do."
The acknowledgement seemed to mollify Mayer, for he added, "There's nothing wrong with being a friend to Miss Becker or helping her the way she's helped you. We owe her a debt of gratitude for her benevolence...but you need to be sensible about this, David. There is too much at stake. It would be in everyone's best interest not to let your feelings for her complicate things, and even better, to curtail those feelings as soon as possible so that they don't inhibit your judgment in the future. We can't risk a falling out with our landlord's family. If something were to go wrong or even to be misconstrued inaccurately, we could face eviction, and that's something we cannot afford, not when we've just gotten back on our feet."
"Yes sir," David repeated. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I had overstepped. I promise, I'll do better." He raised his eyes from the floor, his face a mask of impassive determination, but Esther's heart ached, for she saw the joy retreating from his eyes, the way it had on the night of Mayer's accident when David had come to her, resigned but resolute, and had told her that he was dropping out of school to become a newsboy - only this time it was much worse, for it wasn't simply disappointed acceptance that she saw in her son's expression, but self-reproach as well. He was upset at himself for admiring a girl whom, under other circumstances, it would have been perfectly admissible for him to love, and Esther hated knowing that David, who had quietly put aside so many of his own ambitious and hopes, was once again being asked to give up something that mattered to him, something so normal and innocent that it should not have been a source of shame or self-censure.
"David," she ventured, finally finding her voice, "I'm sorry. I know that it's disappointing..."
"I'm disappointed in myself, mostly," he answered, turning to look at her with that same heartbreakingly-resigned composure. "Dad's right; I should know better. I just didn't realize that I was being so obvious about it...or that other people could see it, too. That's the last thing I'd want: for her, or anyone, to find out how I feel."
"David, under other circumstances, there'd be absolutely nothing wrong with what you've been feeling," Esther insisted. "Sadie is a lovely girl, and she's been kind to you. It's perfectly reasonable that you'd come to appreciate her for those qualities and that you'd be attracted to her for those traits. It's just that right now, with the money being the way it is, and our family being so dependent on the Beckers' goodwill...we can't afford a misunderstanding."
"I know, Mom. And I'd never want to be the cause of one." He gave her a faint smile. "I'll be more careful from now on. I won't let it happen again."
"Good," Mayer interjected. "I know we can count on you, David. You've always been sensible and trustworthy. I don't expect that it will be necessary for us to speak of this matter again." The words were meant to be affirming, but somehow David looked even more crestfallen at their declaration. Before the expression could fully settle, however, he seemed to pull himself together.
"If there's nothing else to discuss," he said, giving Mayer a deferential nod before turning to Esther, "I was thinking that maybe I'd go to the grocer's for you, Mom. The storm seems like it's mostly over, but there's no point in you going out when I'm wet already and it could start to rain again."
She regarded him for a moment, trying to read the truth in his eyes, but his countenance was impassive, seemingly devoid of the anxiousness that had been there only moments before. She wasn't sure if he was offering to run her errand in an attempt to atone for his earlier tardiness, or if he simply wanted to get out of the apartment to have some time alone to think, but in either case, she knew that he'd want her to accept, so she found herself reluctantly handing over her grocery list and a handful of coins.
David scanned the notes, asked a few clarifying questions, then pocketed both the paper and the change.
"I'll be back within the hour," he promised Esther.
And then he was gone, her dutiful, obedient son who was far too adept at silencing his heart, slipping his mask into place, and soldiering on, because that was what he did, and what they'd always depended on him for. But Esther found herself mourning the fact that she'd never noticed until this moment how practiced and natural the shift was, how quickly it came to David, and how easy it was for her to miss that moment of vulnerability before he shuttered his expression and hid his disappointment away.
"Was it necessary to be so harsh?" she found herself saying aloud.
Her husband sighed. "I wasn't harsh, Esther. I was brutally honest."
"But he was crushed, Mayer! Couldn't you see it on his face?"
"The sooner he comes to terms with reality, the sooner he'll be able to recover."
"I doubt he would have done anything untoward even without our intervention," Esther contended.
"Perhaps not. But good judgment has a way of going out the window when feelings of attraction are involved. Even sensible boys like David can do stupid things when they're smitten. His failure to return in a timely manner this afternoon or at least to apprise us of the situation so that we wouldn't worry is a case in point."
"But he's already been through so much," Esther murmured, not disagreeing with her husband's words but finding herself reluctant to affirm them aloud. "And he's repeatedly put the interests of our family first. He's always been dependable and has hardly complained or asked anything for himself."
"I know." Mayer sounded tired. "I haven't forgotten that. But everything I reminded him of this afternoon needed to be said. It will hurt for a time, but he will get over it. And we'll figure out a way to make it up to him somehow."
Privately, Esther thought that there was, in all reality, little that they could do to offset the pain already caused, but practically speaking, Mayer was right. The safest and most sensible course of action was to steer David away from Sadie and to caution him against the potential consequences that his unchecked affection could have on both himself and his family.
Perhaps if their financial situation had been different, or if David had been a bit more circumspect in his admiration, the admonishment might not have been necessary. But neither of those things was the case. And regardless, there was no taking any of it back now.
The grocer's was almost empty thanks to the earlier downpour which had driven most of Manhattan indoors, and Davey found himself unhindered as he made his way around the store, doing his best to work his way through his mother's shopping list in an attempt to focus his mind on something concrete and methodical.
His emotions were caught somewhere between detachment and shock.
A part of him had already set aside the sting of his father's words, consigning them to a remote and abstract place where they were nothing but a faint and distant throbbing at the back of his mind, far enough away where he wouldn't have to deal with them so that he could focus on the task at hand.
The other side of him, however, was still reeling.
I don't know what's gotten into you, David. I thought you knew better than that.
Davey reached for a potato, examining it for soft spots before placing it into his mother's shopping basket even as his mind continued to replay his father's words.
You've been looking at Miss Becker like a lovesick fool who's lost all sense of decorum.
He shook his head a little, trying to lessen the humiliation of that accusation, then set several more potatoes alongside the first before obtaining two onions and a bunch of carrots.
She is our landlord's daughter. You know what that means, don't you?
A pound of sugar, measured out from the large barrel that sat in the corner of the store, joined the produce items.
If something were to go wrong, we could face eviction, and that's something we cannot afford. There is too much at stake.
Davey made his way over to the shelves where coffee and tea were kept, locating the former in the brand that his mother favored and trying his best to ignore the brightly-colored tins of spiced orange tea sitting on the ledge just below.
It would be in everyone's best interest for you to curtail your feelings for Miss Becker as soon as possible so that they don't inhibit your judgment in the future.
He turned away from the beverage section and walked to the front of the store, where he flagged down the grocer to request two bars of ivory soap and a tube of toothpaste which were kept behind the counter with the other sundries. These final items having been procured, he waited as the grocer totaled up the bill, then paid and thanked the man before leaving the store to head home, his father's words still reverberating in his mind as he steeled himself against the biting cold that had descended once the sun had dipped below the horizon.
You've always been sensible and trustworthy, David. I don't expect that it will be necessary for us to speak of this matter again.
Davey shivered, the clinging chill of his still-damp clothes discomforting but the sting of his father's censure far worse. He was reluctant to return to the tenement, but he knew that if he lingered he could end up getting sick from the prolonged exposure to the cold, so he unwillingly quickened his pace, making sure not to jostle the groceries too much as he made his way down the street.
When his father had called him into the bedroom, he'd known immediately that the discussion ahead would be a serious one, but he'd thought that perhaps it would only be a matter of discussing the details of Mayer's upcoming surgery or perhaps an issue regarding Les. The possibility that it would include a slight reprimand for his lateness in returning to the tenement had crossed his mind, but he hadn't thought that it would be more than a stern reminder not to let it happen again, for he certainly hadn't made a habit of showing up tardy and he thought that a singular instance of oversight wouldn't have been enough to cause his parents to worry.
He'd had no idea that the conversation would center around his friendship - and his apparently inappropriate interactions - with Sadie.
The sharp admonishment immediately following the pleasant afternoon he'd spent with the landlord's daughter had been jarring, and Davey had found himself emotionally detaching from the situation almost as soon as his father had finished speaking, the distress of incurring his parents' displeasure and the shame of being scolded for impropriety too sudden and painful at the moment to be given full quarter. He'd always - whether with Sadie or with anyone else - attempted to comport himself in a respectable way as his parents had taught him, trying his best to be polite and courteous and above reproach, and the thought that he'd fallen short in that regard had absolutely mortified him.
This was a large part of why his father's rebuke had hurt so much. Because Davey was aware - acutely aware - of the complexities and risks and potential pitfalls that went hand in hand with his affection for Sadie. He'd been aware of those factors from the moment he'd come to terms with his feelings, and had quickly resolved not to speak a word of them so as to negate the possibility of a misunderstanding, the very thing that his parents feared coming to pass. He hadn't forgotten the difference in Sadie's financial situation relative to his own, or her status as the landlord's daughter. He'd always acknowledged the fact that his one-sided fondness would eventually end in heartbreak and had accepted that outcome and consequence, thinking that, so long as he kept his mouth shut about the matter and didn't lose sight of his place, so long as he made sure not to overstep the boundaries of classmate, friend, and tenant, his unrequited feelings wouldn't cause problems and wouldn't come off as untoward.
But apparently he'd reasoned amiss. And whatever the case, he'd clearly overestimated his ability to conceal his regard.
The shame that he'd managed to temporarily hold back came quickly rushing in, and Davey found his spirit sinking beneath the weight of self-reproach as he revisited a number of memories that he'd formerly thought innocent and harmless enough but now seemed to be tinged with indecorum: moments when he'd voiced his admiration for Sadie too clearly or teased her too fondly or looked at her for too long, the secret way he'd treasured her smiles and her sweet words, thinking of them at intervals throughout the day and letting them fill his mind as he drifted off to sleep at night, the times he'd rearranged his plans to be with her, even when his presence wasn't strictly necessary, the excuses he'd come up with to visit the landlord's office on the off chance that he'd see her there, if only for a moment…
It probably had been too much. His affection had grown so gradually that he hadn't realized how comfortable he'd become with it, and what his father had said was likely true - his infatuation had almost certainly muddled his common sense and had caused him to overstep, something his rational, clear-thinking self would have known better than to do.
This is a good thing, Davey told himself, even as something within ached quietly in protest. Someone needed to talk some sense into you, and there's no point in prolonging the inevitable. You knew that you would have to face up to this eventually, and today's as good a day as any other. Where did you think your feelings would have gotten you, anyway?
He really should have known better; his parents were only looking out for his - and the family's - best interest, and he ought to be thankful for that instead of feeling sad about losing something that he should have never presumed to hold in the first place. His past self would have unreservedly received the criticism, taken it to heart, and striven to do better, ignoring any stirrings of emotion in an effort to please his parents and to not become one more problem for them to manage when they were already so overwhelmed as it was. He'd done this since he'd been a child, aiming to approach life with the acceptance of a mature, logical adult who understood what was at stake and lived in reality and above all didn't let his deep and often perplexing feelings cloud his better judgment...
And yet, despite years of conditioning himself to be stoically rational, at this moment he was struggling to regain that dispassionate approach to dealing with his emotions. It was probably an indication that he'd been indulging the voice of sentimentality for too long, or that he was beginning to lose his grip on reality, for some stubborn side of him was fighting with his deeply ingrained tendency to stifle his feelings, because the taste that he'd had of losing himself in something completely impractical, of abandoning the sensible in favor of the ridiculous, of letting himself feel things that he hadn't felt in a long time, was far too exhilarating to easily give up.
But regardless of his feelings, he had to remember that even if his parents hadn't objected, and even if financial considerations had not been in play, a happy outcome was impossible, because the girl he was fond of did not reciprocate his regard. She was kind and caring because it was in her nature, and perhaps she admired him somewhat due to his role in helping to lead the newsboy strike or for some other small accomplishments that he'd managed to pull off, but admiration was not the same thing as affection. You could easily admire a person's achievements without any fondness for them personally, and he'd have to make sure that his wayward mind didn't conflate the two, for Sadie certainly was not inclined towards him in any affectionate way, no matter how much he might wish it to be otherwise.
Here the quiet voice of longing tried to interject, but Davey reluctantly silenced it. He'd ignored reality long enough; it was time to start listening to his rational side again and to move forward. There was no point in mulling over his mistakes at this juncture, for his parents seemed content to be done with the subject, trusting that there would be no further infractions, and the best thing to do would be to focus on meeting that expectation. It would take some time to reconstruct the walls that he'd allowed to crumble, but he'd been practicing this kind of restraint for most of his life, and knew that, if he was determined and focused enough, he could do it again.
In the meantime, some safeguards ought to be put in place. He couldn't trust himself not to give in to his feelings, at least not until he'd had some time to strengthen his resistance to their effects, so going forward it would be best to limit the time he spent with Sadie to negate the possibility of slipping up again. The thought of it dispirited him...but he knew that it was for the best.
Having resolved this, Davey made his way back to the tenement. He said little for the rest of the evening, responding to his parents' conversation over dinner with measured, respectful answers, but choosing not to elaborate unless asked to. When the meal was over, he quietly got to work on the forms that he needed to process for Philip Becker and then, having finished that task, withdrew to a corner of the apartment to read, only stirring from the spot to prepare for bed after his parents and his brother had already retired for the night.
As he sat on the edge of the mattress, getting ready to turn in, the flickering lamplight drew his eye to Sadie's thimble, which lay in a shallow tray on the bookshelf beside his bed. It had been there since the night of the rally, a little reminder of her that he'd never been able to let go of, despite the fact that she'd never intended for him to keep it in the first place.
Reaching over, Davey picked up the piece of copper, holding it in his hand for a moment and running his thumb over the tiny initials etched on its surface. Then he knelt by the side of the bed and pulled out the wooden box where he stored his belongings. Unlatching the clasp, he set the thimble next to his notebook of poetry, then closed the lid and secured it before sliding the box out of sight.
All that remained now was for him to extinguish the lamp, and this he did quickly before climbing into bed and closing his eyes, letting the curtain drop on the end of a long and exhausting day.
A/N: Well, you all knew that it was coming, but did that make it any less painful? :( Poor Davey, doomed to suffer the fate of many a character who finds himself in the unenviable position of being the writer's favorite* (and he's especially unlucky in that this particular writer writes a lot :P). All joking aside, I promise that these setbacks will be good for his character development in the long run. This boy is going to be happy. He just has to hang in there a while longer.
Speaking of happiness, if you have a moment, please consider leaving a review on your way out! It can be really short, just a sentence or a few words, or it can be as long as your heart desires, but just knowing that you're still here would be of great encouragement to me as a writer and would make me super duper happy. Thank you! :)
*Technically, he's my co-favorite, but Race doesn't take angst as well - it puts him in a bad mood, and then he goes around getting into spoon fights with the plot bunnies and slipping eggs into the shoes of innocent bystanders. Makes things dreadfully unpleasant. So he gets off relatively easy.
Guest Review Response:
Guest: So. Close. :P They'll have other chances, I promise. ;) Thank you so much for your review! It always makes me happy when someone's excited for developments in Davey and Sadie's relationship, slow though those developments may be. Thanks for hanging in there with this story! I appreciate it! :)
