Gents & Dames
Twelve: Take Back Your Mink
Sarah looked at the pillars in front of the library with a mixture of awe and pride. The library really was an impressive building—and the fact that her brother was the one who'd overseen its content, readied it for use, who could claim responsibility for so much of it...It was easy to forget, so much of the time, that David really was so brilliant, so talented. He was unfortunately modest and it made it easy to overlook his abilities.
The front door wasn't locked, but a guard was standing inside. "The library isn't open to the public yet, ma'am," he said firmly as she poked her head in.
"I'm aware, thank you. David Jacobs is my brother—I need to talk to him."
The guard frowned, then led her to David's office to wait. One of the other committee members came in and explained that he was in a very important meeting, just couldn't be interrupted, but he'd be along when he could. As she waited, Sarah tried to figure out how to explain what she'd learned. There was no good way of putting it.
David finally walked in, looking exasperated. "Sarah!" he said abruptly. Evidently, no one had told him she was waiting. "Hello. Did Ari make it home with—"
"Yes," she said. "And hopefully that puts Jack Kelly out of our lives forever."
David smiled a little. Sarah knew that look. This was going to be harder than she'd thought.
"Well, maybe not forever. He's leaving the city in a day or two, though. I'm sure you won't have to see him again," David said.
"And neither will you."
David shrugged. "Actually, Jack and I talked a little, and—"
"David." Her voice was harsh; there was no way to say it nicely, so she wouldn't. He needed to hear it. "Jack is lying to you."
"About what, writing to me from California?"
"Probably. Why would you even want him to?"
"Because he's my friend," David answered defensively. "And he's fully aware of how he messed up, but—"
"Of course he'd tell you he knows! And of course he'd tell you he's sorry. Of course he'd promise not to lie to you anymore. David. It's Jack. He'll say just about anything to get what he wants from you, you know that."
"What could he possibly want from me, Sarah?" David asked. "I mean, honestly. There's absolutely nothing I can give him."
"Except forgiveness."
"What's so wrong with him wanting to be forgiven?"
"What's so—David, he left me at the altar! He stole over two hundred dollars from his friends. And he think you'll just forgive him."
"He doesn't think that."
"Yes, he does." She crossed her arms. "David, he does. He made a bet on it. With Nathan."
David blinked. "What?"
"He bet Nathan a thousand dollars he'd be able to get you to forgive him." Sarah sighed. "David, I didn't...I had to tell you."
"He..." David trailed off, then shut his eyes. He took a deep breath, then another, before he opened them again. "Of course he did. I don't even know why I'm surprised." He spread his hands on his desk and leaned over it, looking down. He took a deep breath.
"David..." Sarah said, frowning. He looked up and took another breath. "It's half Nathan's fault," she added, feeling that she had to, somehow.
"Mmm." He straightened up and began to pace across his office.
"I'm sorry, David," she said.
"No. Thank you," he answered sharply. "I needed to remember that he—I needed to know. But I have a lot of work to do, I should get back to it."
"Are you sure? I could keep you company..."
"I'll be fine." He gave her a smile, but she knew it was forced. "I need to get some things finished so I'll be home for dinner tonight."
She nodded. They weren't having a big rehearsal for the wedding, given that it was the lowest-cost wedding they could manage. Instead, it was just their family; Esther and Mayer, David, Sarah and Ari, and Les with his wife, Rachel, and their son, Joseph. They'd been worried when the date of the library opening and the date of the wedding had turned out to be the same (and neither could be changed—the library not at all, and the wedding not without large fees) and David had confessed he might not be able to make it. It was important to them all; the family was close-knit. So Sarah understood.
But even so, she got the feeling that telling David might not have been the kindest thing she'd ever done.
*
Thomas regarded himself in the mirror and was almost surprised by what he saw. With no make-up, without his hair slicked back, wearing a regular shirt with a tie and everything...He looked normal. Masculine. Almost. Still, perhaps, neater than most men, and he had to remind himself what it had been like to move as a boy growing up.
Being feminine was a skill he'd acquired easily; he wondered sometimes how much of his newsboy bravado had been real and how much had been a way to survive. After all, no one questioned the kid who was quicker to fight than to think. And by the time his friends had realized why he was so keen to share a bunk overnight, no one quite dared say anything.
It had felt very natural at the time. But then, so had wearing an eyepatch, which was also not an entirely normal habit. He looked down at the ancient scrap clenched in his hand, then slid it into a pocket. He wanted to be forgettable and inconspicuous; the eyepatch wouldn't help. It was just a comfort thing, a crutch. He'd stopped wearing it when he'd started wearing dresses, and the thought of going out in public with neither made him feel naked.
But still. He owed Sarah and David this. He picked up the package—Sarah's dress, alterations complete and wrapped up neatly—and started out. The sunlight felt strange as he walked through it. It had been months since he'd last been outside. Living right above the theater and worrying that Brannigan was waiting around every corner had made him paranoid, and having Nathan to run his errands had made it all too easy to lock himself away.
He took a deep breath.
The trip to David's apartment wasn't so long, though he did spend the whole thing waiting to see an officer jump out at him. But none did, and no one even looked sideways at him. So he was almost calm when he rapped on David's door.
Les answered, to his surprise. At twenty, Les was the tallest of the three Jacobs children, and in Thomas's rather expert opinion, the best looking. He lacked David's sincerity, a trait that combined with curls did a lot for him, but Les was broad-shouldered and had lovely eyes. Which Thomas tore himself away from when he realized Les didn't recognize him.
"Can I help you?" Les asked.
"Yes...I think. Is Sarah around?"
"Who are you? Why would you be looking for her?" he asked defensively.
"Thomas Ballatt. Actually, you used to call me Blink." He gestured at his bad eye. "I've got a wedding gift for her, is all."
Les finally nodded and let him into the apartment. David was nowhere to be seen, but a woman who wasn't Sarah was sitting with Esther, talking cheerily; Thomas assumed she was Les's wife. Mayer was out of the room, and Sarah stood in the doorway to a bedroom.
"Miss Jacobs?" he asked nervously.
She looked around the room, glancing at her mother, and finally said, "Good afternoon, Thomas. I should have known you'd drop by."
"Another friend? It's lovely how much people care about you, Sarah," her mother said.
Thomas smiled. Esther had always been kind to the newsies. She didn't recognize him any more than Les had, but that was fine. He didn't need her to ask questions about where he'd disappeared to, after all.
"Could I have a word with you?" Thomas asked.
Sarah nodded and gestured out to the hallway. He stepped out and waited; he heard her have a short conversation with Les, but couldn't make it out. Then she appeared and shut the door behind her.
"If this is about Nathan or Jack, I don't want to hear it," she said quickly. "And if that's the dress, I don't want it."
"It is the dress, and I'll leave it here for you, in case you change your mind." He tried to press it into her arms, but she crossed them over her chest and glared. So he set it down on the floor of the hallway instead. "Actually, this is about Nathan and Jack. A little."
Sarah didn't look impressed. He continued quickly.
"The thing about that bet—it was stupid. Nathan can be remarkably insensitive; if anyone knows that, it's me."
"I'll bet."
He smiled. "You can imagine, I'm sure. But in all honesty, it was my idea. Not the bet," he specified quickly, "but encouraging Jack to talk with David. It was my idea, and I think it was important, and I hope you didn't tell David about this yet so I can explain why."
"Too late," she said disdainfully, and turned towards the door.
"Wait," he pleaded. She paused. "It's just—you'd know better than I would that David...What he's capable of. What kind of good he can do. He could run for mayor, Sarah. He could be president. You know that."
Her hand slipped from the doorknob and she turned to look at him. "So?" she demanded. She sounded angry; he was pretty sure he'd hit a sore spot with her.
"What I'm saying is that David could do that, could do anything he wanted. But he won't. And I know he won't, because guys who can do what David can, they don't visit the Hotbox." He took a breath. "They aren't friends with people like me."
"Queers?" Sarah muttered.
"Yes. But," he continued, "it's not just that Nathan and me are queer. It's...David's tied himself to the past, the strike. Convinced himself he can't do anything big alone."
"The library is big."
"The library is quiet. It's important, but it doesn't change things. Tell me right now if I'm wrong, but I think David could change the world."
Sarah's silence confirmed her agreement.
"Something went wrong with him when Jack left," Thomas said carefully. "He lost all his confidence. And now I'm the most successful of his friends, and I used to be a prostitute, for Christ's sake. So I just thought that if David could confront Jack, he might get past whatever's holding him back and be what we both know he can."
Sarah didn't say anything. He sighed.
"Well, that's...that's what I came to tell you. And there's your dress; you're welcome to it, and I understand if you don't want me or Nathan or Nick at your wedding. Take it anyway, please. And..."
"What?" she demanded, sounding cross.
"Tell David, if he still wants to come to the game tonight, it's at the old lodging house."
"Will Jack be there?"
Thomas nodded. "I think so, yes. But why should he let that stop him?"
"I'll tell him."
"Thank you."
"And Thomas..." She hesitated, then nodded, like she was sure of herself, "you are welcome at my wedding."
"I don't come without Nathan, Sarah. He can be hurtful, but I love him."
She shrugged. "Your decision."
"Best of luck, Sarah."
"Have a nice evening, Thomas."
He let himself out of the building, and hurried back home. His skin felt strange without makeup and he had to warm up before the show.
*
David arrived at dinner late, but was quickly led over to the table where his family was waiting. He threw on a smile for his family, trying to remind himself that this was supposed to be a special night.
"David!" Sarah smiled and passed him a glass of wine. "We were actually about to toast."
"Thanks." He smiled. "I'm sorry I was late. Last minute crises of all kinds."
"I'm sure you handled it," Esther said. "We're so proud of you, honey."
"So much big news," Mayer mused, pouring wine into David's glass. He hoisted his own and so did the rest of the family, except for Joseph. "To Sarah's future. And David's success."
They toasted and drank.
"Maybe now that the library's opening, you'll have time for a social life, hm, David?"
David sighed. "Mother, when I meet someone, you'll be the first to know."
"I just worry, Davey. And besides, with three children, I should have what, ten, eleven grandchildren? Only having one at my age. Well."
"I'm sure Sarah will be quick to help you with that, Mother." He rolled his eyes and cast a look at Joseph—and at Les. Who was looking at his wife, smiling blissfully. And for just a moment, David hated them. He'd never had that, someone he loved like that. He'd never met any woman he wanted to do more than chat with. And he was beginning to doubt he ever would.
Somehow, he didn't feel any better when Rachel announced shyly, "Actually, Mother, you can start getting used to saying you have two."