Catch as Catch Can
Summary: Sally's date with Les Jacobs takes a few unexpected turns, but things turn out all right in the end.
A/N: This chapter takes place following Chapter 129 of Something Worth Winning. Canon character-centric with OCs in supporting roles.
"Are you jealous, Flo, that your little sister has a date for Valentine's Day, but you don't?"
Sally glances at her older sister Florence, curious to see how she'll answer the teasing question put forth by her best friend.
"Jealous?" Florence echoes, raising an eyebrow as she leaves off tying Sally's hair bow for a moment. "I'm thrilled, Agnes. Sal learned her bag of tricks from me, anyway, and she's caught herself a cute little lad by being a quick study. I couldn't be happier for her."
"That Les Jacobs is adorable," Agnes agrees. "Cheeky, but adorable." She winks at Sally. "And I guess he's managed to keep your attention, too, which is unusual. I thought for sure you'd dropped him for good once Oliver came along."
"Oh, Sal was jealous that Les invited Abigail Becker to the newsboy rally," Florence chimes in before Sally can say anything. "She went right back to him after that and dropped Oliver instead, quicker than a hot potato."
"Oliver wasn't as interesting as Les," Sally retorts, even though she knows that her sister's narration is somewhat true. Jealousy had played a part in her decision - that, and the fact that Les had ended up being somewhat of a celebrity thanks to the newsboy strike. He'd gotten his picture in the paper and had been nearly face to face with the governor, too, and none of the other boys in class could claim that.
Besides, there was no way that he'd actually been interested in Abigail Becker. She's bookish and mousy-looking and hardly ever speaks unless spoken to, and Sally can't imagine what Les had seen in her, even if only for a moment.
"There," Florence announces, giving Sally's hair bow one last little tug. "You look perfect."
"It's awful nice of Les to take you out on a proper date," Agnes says from her seat at the table. She is rummaging through the box of chocolates that she's brought over from the confectionery, fishing out her favorite pieces. "Coming to pick you up, too, like he's already a young man."
"Les is behaving better than most young men," Florence contends dryly, "at least the ones in our class. None of them would go so far as to actually ask a girl on a date all good and proper, except for Louis and James, and of course they're already spoken for."
"I hear James is taking Margaret out twice," Agnes sighs dreamily. "To Lenzi's for lunch during the week, and to Henderson's for a nice dinner on the weekend. Imagine getting not one but two Valentine's Day dates!" She pops a chocolate into her mouth.
"All of the couples will be going off together, and the rest of us will be left behind," Florence predicts morosely. "It's going to be the worst week of the year."
"It might not be so bad," Agnes consoles her. "Last year, Sadie brought a basket full of sandwiches and hand pies from the bakery, and all of us unattached girls had a picnic together at the park. Maybe she'll treat us to lunch again."
Florence smiles slightly. "The poor thing has nothing better to do. She's a dear, but she'll never have a sweetheart of her own, not after what she did, and it's really all her fault."
"It's true, but don't let Margaret hear you say that," Agnes warns. "She'll square up to anyone who even looks at Sadie the wrong way. Besides…" she inclines her head in Sally's direction and lowers her voice, "little pitchers have big ears."
Sally is about to tell Agnes that there's no need to speak so condescendingly (for she's overheard Florence and her friends gossiping about Sadie before), but before she can do so, a knock sounds on the front door.
"There's you beau, Sal!" Agnes sings out.
Sally walks to the door, smoothing her dress. It's a hand-me-down from Gertie, her second-oldest sister, and Florence had worn it before that, but it's still in good condition, and Les has never seen it before.
Opening the door, she is greeted by the sight of her sweetheart, who flashes a grin and greets her with his usual aplomb. He's dressed up as well, wearing a suit that's just a little too big for him, but he's as puffed up as though he's been outfitted by some Fifth Avenue valet, and Sally has to admit that he does look rather dapper.
"Are you ready for our date, Sally?" he asks, offering her his arm. "David said he'll let us have our own table at Lenzi's."
Les' older brother is standing just behind, a book in his hand, and he gives Sally a nod and a little smile of greeting, but says nothing, so he must be in agreement with the plan.
"I've never had my own table before," Sally can't help but say excitedly. It's one of those things that she's only seen her older sisters do with their beaus.
"Only the best for my best girl," Les declares grandly.
Sally is about to go get her handbag, eager to be on her way, but before she can do so, Florence appears behind her.
"Sally, where are your manners?" she chides. "You ought to invite the boys in."
She looks up at David, a little smile on her lips, and Sally holds back a sigh, tapping her foot impatiently. She's seen this maneuver before, and knows that Florence's interruption has nothing to do with politeness and everything to do with the fact that Les' brother is not entirely unattractive and is a little bit of a mystery because he's hardly ever at school. Flo's strategy - as she's told Sally often enough - is to always "cast the net wide to see what you can catch," and it looks like she's in the mood to go fishing today.
"It's so nice of you to take Sal and Les to Lenzi's for their date, David," Florence enthuses, ignoring her sister's pointed look. "I'm sure you'd rather be spending time on your own interests instead of playing escort."
"It's not a problem," David answers politely. "I've got some reading to do, and I told Les that he's paying for his own date, so…" he shrugs, "it's really no trouble."
Florence smiles, glancing down at Sally and Les. "They're a fine-looking pair, aren't they? I think it's absolutely precious that our younger siblings are sweethearts, don't you?"
David answers her leading questions with an awkward smile.
"Speaking of sweethearts, what about you?" Florence glances up at him coyly. "When you're not chaperoning your brother's dates, who do you keep company with?"
David's smile looks even more forced. "My books, mostly," he answers, holding up the volume in his hand. "There's always a lot of reading to do."
"But you've already passed your competency exams with the rest of us," Florence points out. "Maybe you should relax a little more, now."
"Maybe," David shrugs, evading her pointed look and dropping his gaze to his shirt sleeve, as though its blue and white pattern contains some clue that will help him escape further conversation. He's clearly uncomfortable with the way the discussion is going, but Florence is undeterred.
"You know…" she continues, leaning forward a little, "there's really no point in you taking the kiddos by yourself. If you want company, I can go along with you, and we can chat while the younger ones have their date. Then you won't have to be alone."
"Oh, thanks, I - " David meets her eyes, looking flustered. "I won't be alone." He holds up his book again, and Sally is amused by how much he appears to be hiding behind it, though he's clearly putting his foot down.
"It's nice of you to offer," David continues, "but it looks like you've got a friend over - " he acknowledges Agnes with a nod - "and I really don't mind taking Les and Sally by myself. I'm sure they won't be any trouble - but I probably ought to take them over to Lenzi's now, actually."
"It does get crowded during the afternoon rush," Florence agrees, unruffled by the rambling but clear brush off. It's no skin off her nose to be refused, for she'd been only testing the waters, and Sally knows that she'll give David no further thought, even if she'd been willing enough in the moment to attach herself to him if he'd shown the slightest bit of interest.
Unfortunately for her, he seems to care only about his books.
"Here's your handbag, Sal," Florence says, giving Sally a little push towards the door. "Have fun on your date, and make sure to listen to David, all right? Ma said she wants you home no later than four-thirty, so don't be throwing a fit when it's time to come home, you hear?"
"Eat some ice cream for me, Sally!" Agnes adds from her seat at the table.
Sally answers with her own goodbyes, more than ready to be on her way, and as soon as the door is shut behind her, Les leads the way out of the apartment complex and down to the street. Once they get there, he glances at David, and the older boy nods in affirmation of whatever prearranged agreement they have, so Les guides Sally into the flow of the foot traffic, heading in the direction of Lenzi's as David follows behind, keeping a discrete but watchful distance.
"You look nice, Sally," Les says, once they've walked for a block or so. "That's a pretty dress you have on."
"It was my sister's," Sally says proudly. "She used to wear it to parties, and always got compliments on it."
"I like the decorations on the sleeves," Les remarks. "They're like sugar candy squiggles."
It's one of the most poetic things Sally has ever heard, and she can't help but preen at the compliment.
"You look dapper, too," she tells her beau. "Is that a new suit?"
"New to me," Les tells her. "It used to be David's, but my mom kept it for me to wear once he grew out of it."
"Are your parents all right with us going out together like this?" Sally can't help asking. Her own parents, having already weathered the ups and downs of their two older daughters' romances, are more or less indifferent to the arrangement (especially since Florence has vouched for Les), but she wonders if his parents feel the same.
"They don't know about us," comes the surprising answer. "Not in detail, anyway. I don't know how they'd take the news."
"You mean your brother didn't rat you out?" Sally asks, incredulous.
Les smirked. "Nope. He wouldn't dare." He shoots a glance over his shoulder, then, seeming to satisfy himself that David is out of earshot, adds, "I've got too much leverage on him."
There's more than a little smugness in the declaration, and Sally finds herself both awed and impressed by Les' derring-do. She's crossed her older siblings on occasion, of course, but it's always been over low-stakes things, never something as bold as what seems to be nothing short of implied blackmail.
Copying Les, she steals a look at David, who is still trailing a respectful distance behind, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, and she wonders what kind of secrets a boy like him might have to hide. He seems so studious and straight laced that she can't imagine him being anything other than a model child.
But apparently appearances can be deceiving.
At any rate, what matters is that no one is stopping her and Les from going around together. This is their first real date, and Sally is still pleased as punch, anticipating the enjoyment of ice cream at a private table with her beau, who's treated her with his own money.
Of course, if things had gone differently, she would have accompanied Les to the newsboy rally, something even grander than an afternoon at Lenzi's. Sally is still sore about that, still sore that she'd taken Florence's advice to try to secure Les' affections by inciting his jealousy. She had found the new boy, Oliver, fascinating enough with his sandy brown hair and sky blue eyes, but in the end he'd been nowhere near half as clever or solicitous as Les, and Sally had been left to stew on the sidelines while the latter took another date to the rally with him. It had pricked her pride especially to know that said replacement had been not one of the prettier, more popular girls in class, but Abigail Becker, a bookish girl with (it was rumored) a hussy for one sister and an imbecile for another, which should have rendered her one of the least fit candidates for Les' notice.
The Jacobs family is probably still unaware of these blights, however. They are relatively new in town, and the gossip surrounding the Beckers wouldn't have had time to reach their ears just yet. It will trickle down to them eventually, as it always does…but one can hardly blame them for acting out of ignorance in the meantime. (At least, this is what Florence had said in consolation when Sally had bewailed her misfortune of being 'passed over' for Abigail).
Truth be told, the situation regarding the Beckers doesn't make a lot of sense to Sally. She's eavesdropped on her sisters' conversations often enough, and has gathered from them that Sadie once did something very bad, something entirely her fault, something that has forever ruined her reputation and any chance of securing a respectable boy for a sweetheart…but there's been no actual mention of the particulars, and though Florence and her friends privately wag their heads and speak in pitying tones at Sadie's misfortune, Sally can tell that they like the girl herself well enough. They certainly don't say anything disdainful to her face, and still invite her along on most of their outings, even if she's excluded from more formal gatherings as a rule.
"Watch out, Sal," Les voice suddenly warns, and Sally nearly stumbles over a divot in the walkway, but manages to catch herself in time, thanks to her beau's warning.
"Here, take my arm," he suggests. "The street's pretty uneven here. I've tripped a few times myself while selling on this stretch."
"Your brother won't mind?" Sally asks, hesitating. It seems overly-familiar to walk that way, but she's thrilled at the prospect all the same.
"David told me that it's my responsibility to make sure you're safe and that you have fun on our date," Les says grandly, looping her arm through his. "I'm just following instructions."
They continue on in this fashion for another few blocks, chatting easily until they arrive at Lenzi's. It's less crowded than usual, and Les finds them a vacant table easily enough, then goes to the lunch counter to wait in line so that he can place their orders.
Alone for the moment, Sally takes the opportunity to carefully tuck her handbag next to her and smooth her skirt, admiring its delicate pattern once again before she turns her attention to observing her fellow patrons. There's a man and a woman sharing a soda at the elevated table by the window, and Sally watches as they lean in close, speaking words meant only for each other's ears. It's a dynamic that she's seen often enough between her sisters and their beaus, and she wonders if she and Les will grow up to be like that couple, still going together even when they're older and tall enough to sit at the table by the window.
Florence says that it's best to not become overly attached to any one boy, for he's liable to become boring or disagreeable if he's held on to long enough. She'll flirt with almost any young man she meets and will pair off with him easily enough if he asks, but she'll never stay with him for long; she changes her sweethearts the way she changes her clothes for the seasons. In the past year alone, she's dated Richard, a dockhand whom she met while out shopping, Charles, the bookkeeper's apprentice who lives down the street, and even a pair of twins, Archie and Abel. Sally could never tell them apart, and slightly suspects that her sister couldn't, either, but regardless, they'd met the same fate as Charles and Richard and the list of other suitors before them.
Sally, applying her sister's advice, has incited a handful of romances herself (which mostly means that there's always a boy sitting next to her at lunch or offering to carry her school books on the walk home) and by this time she's gained a bit of a reputation for being the heartbreaker of their class. Les is her longest running sweetheart, in fact (if she ignores the inconvenient bit involving Abigail Becker), and he's also the first boy whom Sally has considered going against her sister's advice for and actually trying to keep around. She's not sure why this is the case, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that Florence, for all of her confidently-delivered advice, doesn't seem all that happy or content hopping from one beau to the next. She can claim a number of conquests, of course, and seems to take pride in that…but at the end of the day, she's still alone. And if her misguided attempt to flirt with David just a while ago was any indication, she's itching to be paired off again, regardless of timing or suitability. It doesn't seem like an appealing way to live when all's said and done, and even though Sally admires her oldest sister, a part of her would rather not end up like her in this regard, reduced to fishing for a date from a boy who clearly has no interest in the notion.
Idly scanning the room for Les' older brother, Sally sees that he has settled himself at the end of the mostly-empty lunch counter. There is a glass of coca-cola beside him, and he absent-mindedly takes a sip of it as he pores over the book in front of him, already lost in its pages and oblivious to the world, though they haven't been at Lenzi's for more than five minutes.
It's a good thing Florence didn't end up coming along, Sally thinks as she observes him. Her older sister would have been bored senseless, and, come to think of it, it's a good thing that bookishness doesn't run in the Jacobs family, for if Les had been half as besotted with a volume as his brother appears to be now, Sally would have had no choice but to drop him like sandbag. She has no particular love of reading, and no inclination to cultivate one any time soon.
No sooner has the thought crossed her mind, when her sweetheart himself appears, setting a glass dish and two napkins down on the table.
"They're making our root beer float now," he says, sliding into his seat across from her, "and I'm sorry to say that they used up the last of the ice cream to make it, but I got us a cold custard to try instead for our second dessert. Abby's told me that it's her sister's favorite, so I'm sure it's good."
Sally can't help but bristle inside at the mention of Abigail.
"I didn't know the two of you talked so much," she says, unable to keep the coolness out of her voice.
"We walk home together every day with Sadie and Margaret," Les reminds her, seemingly oblivious to her irritation as he tucks into the cold custard. "Abby's family lives upstairs."
Sally hadn't known that.
"You live downstairs from the Beckers?"
Les nods. "Abby's dad is our landlord." He takes another bite of the dessert, making an appreciative sound before declaring, "You have to try this, Sal - it's even better than I thought!"
Sally obliges, but she can't let the subject of the Beckers lie, even if Les himself seems indifferent to elaborating on the nature of their connection.
"Is it true that Sadie and Abigail have a sister who's imbicilic?" she asks after she's taken a bite. She doesn't know exactly what the word means, but she's heard Florence use it several times before and thinks that she has the general idea.
"What do you mean, 'imbicilic'?" Les asks.
"You know…" Sally gives a dismissive wave of her hand, "Loony. Not right in the head."
"Oh." Les considers the question for a moment. "One of Abby's sisters has seizures and has to be watched really carefully so that she doesn't fall, but I don't think she's imbicilic." He licks his spoon clean, then goes in for another scoop of custard.
"But you've heard about Sadie, right?" Sally presses, shifting her tactic, for if she can't get Les to acknowledge the unfitness of one of Abigail's relatives, perhaps she can scandalize him with the sordid past of another.
"What about Sadie?" Les asks around a mouthful of custard.
"You haven't heard about her?"
"What's there to hear?"
Sally feigns surprise. "I can't believe you don't know!"
"Well, you could do something about that." There's a faint note of irritation in Les' voice, and the scant resemblance that he shares with his brother shows itself momentarily as his features settle into a slightly stern look. It's not something that Sally is used to seeing, so she quickly drops her dissembling, though she can't help but inject a bit of dramatics into her revelation.
"Sadie's done something terrible," she confides, dropping her voice to an almost-whisper. "And her reputation has been marred because of it."
"What did she do that was so bad?" Les asks.
He's far less eager-sounding than Sally would like, and now she's in a conundrum, for she actually doesn't know what Sadie's done, only the way that people talk about her for it, but she can't admit to her ignorance, for Les won't think the better of her for it.
"It's not really polite manners to discuss the details," she deflects, calling upon a phrase that Florence has used often enough to curtail Sally's own curious questions, "but I can tell you that it was absolutely awful."
"I can't imagine Sadie doing anything awful to anyone," Les replies. "She's swell. Her whole family is - except for Abby."
The unexpected but welcomed put down of the youngest Becker is the encouragement that Sally needs to drop the subject, for it soothes her insecurities to know Les is not oblivious to Abigail's personal shortcomings, even if he refuses to acknowledge her unfortunate family connections. He's likely to find out the whole of the matter soon enough, anyway, and in the meantime, they might as well move on to more interesting matters now that it's clear Abigail does not pose any threat.
All's well that ends well, Sally thinks, taking another bite of custard. She hadn't expected such an abrupt resolution, but she'll take it for the boon that it is.
"So, what do you think of it?" Les asks eagerly. "Isn't it good?"
"Yes!" Sally replies, ready to be magnanimous now. "Maybe better than ice cream, even."
Les grins and pushes the rest of the dish closer to her, declaring, "You can have the rest. I'll go see if our root beer float's ready!"
He sidles off, good humor noticeably restored, and Sally scrapes up the rest of the custard from the dish as she watches him go.
He really is a nice boy, she thinks, resolving then and there that she's going to keep him around. A few well-timed compliments and winning smiles should do the trick, and maybe a kiss to seal the deal, for she knows that Les is not immune to her charms (how could he be?) and that it will only take a bit of effort to secure him.
Fishing's all well and good, Sally concludes as she savors the last spoonful of custard, then sets the dish aside, but when a girl's already got herself a catch, there's no reason why she shouldn't do her best to hang on to him. It might be less exciting than keeping her beau on his toes, and it certainly won't do anything to enhance her reputation as a heartbreaker…but she's more than willing to take a chance on Les Jacobs.
With any luck, he'll prove Florence's assertions wrong, and will turn out to be a keeper after all.
A/N: This is the first time we've really heard from Sally (though she'll show up in SWW proper for a brief cameo in a future chapter). I'm quite curious to hear what you thought of her (and of the disclosures she shared), as well as any other reactions you have to this chapter, so if you've a moment to leave a review, I'd be thrilled to hear your thoughts! Thank you!