All the Lonely People

"Here," Angela said, opening the door for Split.

"Hey, thanks a lot!" Split said, walking out the door.

"It's no problem," Angela said, following him. She had invited him in and given him dinner. After all, no one else was home and she hated eating alone. Not to mention he probably needed a good meal for once. Angela sighed, noticing how dark it had gotten outside. She frowned, feeling guilty for keeping the newsie so long. It had cut into his selling time. Angela sighed again and scrutinized the boy's remaining pile of newspapers.

"Hey, Split," Angela said distractedly.

"Yeah?" Split replied, turning to face Angela.

"I'll tell ya what. I'll buy the rest of your papers. I feel bad for taking up so much of your time and everything," Angela offered. "Oh, no, you don't have to do that!" Split exclaimed.

Angela smiled. "It's no problem," she said truthfully, reaching into her dress pocket to retrieve some money. Split, although rather stunned at this display of generosity, managed to thank Angela.

"What do you think you're doing?" A cold voice sliced through the darkness. Angela turned around to face the voice. A figure stepped out of the ally.

"Excuse me?" Angela said, annoyed. A tall, thin boy stood before her. He had a narrow face, and dark reddish brown hair cut close to his head. His hard blue eyes glared at Angela.

"What do you think you're doing?" he repeated, slower this time.

"Buying newspapers," Angela said.

"Listen," the boy said, grabbing Angela's arm and pulling her towards the ally.

"Let go of me," Angela said testily, twisting her arm out of his grasp.

The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, miss, I don't what you think you're doing but we newsies don't take charity from nobody," he said roughly.

Angela shook her head. "I invited him inside for dinner and took up all his selling time, the least I can do is buy his papers. It's no trouble."

"No!" the boy said, growing annoyed.

Angela narrowed her eyes at him. "Who do you think you are? We both know he's not going to be able to sell the rest of those papers. It's my fault, I took up his time," she said, lowering her voice. The boy shook his head and shot Angela a withering look. Angela's eyes widened; he thought she was stupid.

"I don't appreciate that," she said flatly.

"Appreciate what?" he spat.

"You think I'm stupid! You think I have no idea what it's like to be a newsie! You think I'm just taking pity on you!" With each word Angela's voice grew more shrill, her anger very apparent.

"Hey, I-" the boy started.

"No! Let me tell you something. I'm not saying that I know what it's like to break my back all day selling newspapers because I don't know. But I do know that it's hard work and I respect that. And I know that that kid over there," Angela indicated with her hand, "is not going to be able to sell those newspapers and it's partially my fault. So I'd like to make it up to him, ok?"

The boy looked at her strangely, studying her face. "Fine," he said softly, relenting. Angela sighed and walked over to Split.

Jack sat very still, his eyes shut as he felt the train lurch to a halt. He opened his eyes and peered out the crack in the boxcar door. A bright sliver of sunlight managed through the crack in the door. Jack waited a few moments longer before he slid the door open, turning his face away from the harsh light. The door was old and stuck, opening only halfway. Jack gave it several more yanks and it finally gave way. He slowly looked up only to be greeted with an angry face peering down at him. Jack sat there, still half inside the boxcar, gaping. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that maybe it was a dream or perhaps a trick of the light.

"Clara, what are you doin' here?!" Jack demanded, glowering at her. This was unbelievably-how could she have followed him?

"Why did you go to Boston?" she asked curiously.

Jack shook his head, disgusted with her. "Look," he began, gesturing with his hand, "it's my personal business, ok? Anyway, what were you doin' followin' me here??" Jack sighed in annoyance.

Clara shrugged slightly, "I just wanted to know where you were going so I followed you to the train yards. I got on the train but, well, I didn't think it was going to be leaving just yet. But then it started to pull away and," Clara looked up at Jack with wide eyes, "well, I just ended up here I guess." She shrugged helplessly.

Jack frowned and rolled his eyes. He didn't have the time or patience to deal with this. Jack sighed and glanced around, trying to decide what to do next. "C'mon, we're gettin' out of here," Jack said, hurriedly starting down the street, Clara close at his heels.

"Angel-la! Hurry up! We're gonna be late!" Johnny yelled from the doorway.

"I'm coming!!!" Angela screamed, clattering down the stairs, nearly dropping her school books in the process. She brushed past Johnny and began walking down the block.

"What took so long?" Johnny asked, somewhat exasperated.

"Nothing," Angela muttered, staring at the pavement. In reality she has managed to misplace Jack's bandanna and had gone tearing through her room in a fit of rage, only to realize that she had braided it in her hair that day. She patted her braid self conscious, checking that the bandanna was still tied around it. Looking up she caught sight of a pair of cold blue eyes watching her. It was the newsie from the other night. Split had said his name was Ryan, but everyone called him Ice, because of his cold, emotionless eyes. Angela had been seeing him more and more in the past few days, selling his newspapers on a nearby corner. He continued to yell headlines but his eyes locked with Angela's, following her across the street and into the school yard. Angela met his gaze evenly, her face blank. Although she hated to admit it, she found Ryan's stare extremely unnerving. Swallowing hard, Angela broke her gaze and turned away, walking inside the school.

"Jack, for the hundredth time, where are we going?" Clara whined, dragging her feet on the ground. Jack didn't answer, partially because he didn't exactly know. So far he had asked four people for directions to Durham Hall, Angela's school. He had also tried asking for the address on Angela's letter but it had just turned into a wild goose chase. No one knew where Durham Hall was and to Jack's dismay, the street Angela lived on, 7th avenue, stretched on for miles. By now it was early afternoon and things were looking pretty hopeless.

"Governor's private train car overturns! Many killed!" a voice proclaimed. Jack stopped abruptly, causing Clara to crash into him. Mumbling an apology, Jack turned to see the owner of the voice. A tall boy with red brown hair was yelling outrageous headlines on the corner.

"Excuse me," Jack said, approaching the newsie, "but do ya know where Durham Hall is? Or how ta find dis address?" He held out the envelope with Angela's address. The boy took the envelope and studied the address carefully.

"Go to the end of this block and turn left. Keep going 3 or 4 blocks and you'll come to Durham Hall. The address on the letter is one block south from the school," the newsie slowly, examining the letter one final time before handing it back over to Jack.

"Thanks," Jack said, looking the newsie in the eye. He shuddered inwardly as the newsie fixed him with the coldest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. Jack flicked his gaze away from the boy and began the trek to Durham Hall.

Johnny leaned against the school yard gates, waiting for Angela. Students flowed in and out of the building, eager to get home on that Friday afternoon. Johnny toyed with the binding of his textbook, absently staring at its blue cover.

"Jack! Would you please slow down?! Jack! Where are we going?!" Clara jogged through the crowd, trying to catch up with Jack. Finally she reached him; he was staring at a wooden sign that read "Durham Hall, a coeducational collage preparatory school for children K-12." Jack turned to face Clara, as if he was finally seeing her for the first time. He grinned madly. "This is it," he hissed, and grabbing Clara by the hand, he dragged her through the crowd of students, toward the front gates of the school.

"'Scuse me! Excuse me!!" Jack yelled, elbowing his was through the mass gathering of students. Clara whined something about the crowd but Jack was far to distracted to pay any notice to her. All he wanted to do was find Angela.

"JACK?!" Johnny gasped as he turned to see who was making all the noise. "Jack, wha-I-but-Jack what are you doing-how did-" Johnny spluttered wide-eyed.

"Hey, Johnny," Jack said breathlessly, "could ya tell me where Angie is?"

"Inside. She's inside," Johnny managed to spit out.

"Ok, great," Jack grinned, "um, do me a favor, would ya? Watch Clara, ok?" With that Jack turned around and crossed the school yard, leaving Johnny and Clara to stare after him.

"Uh, ok," Johnny mumbled, turning to look at Clara who wrinkled her nose in disgust. Johnny sighed and rolled his eyes.

Jack bounded up the front steps and burst through the front doors. He heard a small gasp and turned to face Angela. She stared at him, her mouth partially open in utter shock.

"Oh my God..." she breathed, feeling her throat grow tight. She blinked repeatedly, trying not to cry. Angela smiled at him weakly and slowly reached out a hand to touch Jack's sleeve, as if she couldn't believe he was really there, standing in front of her.

"Oh geez, Angie..." Jack sighed, and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

"You look good," Angela laughed through her tears, fingering Jack's hair. "Even got a haircut," she smiled. Jack chuckled and slowly released his tight grip on her waist. "Ya look good too. Real good," he smiled, pushing and stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"I can't believe you're here!" Angela exclaimed.

"Yeah, well..." Jack grinned sheepishly.

"Ahem. I hate to interrupt the party but..." Johnny looked at Angela and Jack pointedly from the doorway.

"Oh, sorry! Ok, c'mon, let's go." Angela grasped Jack's hand and led him out the door.

"Jack! What's going on?" Clara cried, grabbing a hold of Jack's arm. Jack groaned inwardly. Great, now he had to explain Clara... Angela turned to stare at Clara. She then looked at Jack questioningly.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Clara wrinkled her nose at Angela.

Angela's jaw dropped and she looked at Clara somewhat disgusted. "Who am I? I think the question is who are you," Angela bristled.

Jack's eyes grew large and his gaze flicked back and forth between the two girls. "Uh, Angie, I, uh, gotta talk to ya..." he trailed off, dragging her down the street, away from Clara.

"Jack, who is that girl?" Angela asked, confused.

"Clara. She's Kloppman's niece. Ya know, Kloppman, owns da Lodgin' House?" Jack explained.

Angela nodded. "So why is she here?"

Jack frowned.

"I'm assuming there is a reasonable explanation for this. There is a reasonable explanation, right?"

Jack sighed and nodded. "Look, she followed me hea'. I had no idea until I got off the train and there she was! So what was I supposed ta do? I had ta take ‘er with me."

"Fine then," Angela said tiredly, "c'mon, we're here." She motioned to the red brick townhouse and started up the steps. The group filed inside, Jack and Clara staring in awe of the expensive furnishings and vast spaces.

"Martha, please make up the Spanish room and the Gold room for my guests. And add two more table settings for dinner, please," Angela said absently, pushing several strands of hair out of her face.

"Yes, miss." Martha nodded at Angela and scurried off.

"Thank you." Angela then turned to face Jack, Clara, and Johnny. "Um, Jack, could I speak with you in private?" Angela raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, sure," Jack complied. Angela nodded at started up the spiraling oak staircase. She rounded the landing and disappeared down the hallway. Jack poked his head down the hallway only to find it empty.

"Angie?" Jack gingerly walked down the hall. Noticing an open door, he stepped inside. The room was bright and spacious, decorated in pale yellows and blues. There was a sofa, desk, and a large bed. Angela stood by the picture window, staring outside at the garden.

"Hey," Jack said softly, touching Angela on the arm. She slowly turned and frowned at Jack. "I don't get it," she said flatly.

"Don't get...don't get what?" Jack shook his head, confused.

"Why are you here? Why did you come all the way to Boston?"

"Well, ta see you," Jack shrugged.

Angela smiled a little. "No, that's not what I meant," she said gently, "I know you came to see me but..." she shook her head.

"No, you're right. I came ta see ya but...I also...I also needed ta, ta sort out some of me feelings, ya know?"

Angela nodded, still staring out the window. Turning back to Jack she sighed. "I missed you so much," she said truthfully.

Jack smiled. "Yeah, I missed ya too. Uddawise do ya think I would've come all the way ta Boston?" he laughed. "But...yeah," he sighed, "I just, I needed to..." Jack motioned with his hands, unable to fully explain himself.

Angela studied his face and suddenly smiled, nodding. "I understand. I think I understand," she smiled at Jack. Jack looked at her, surprised but then smiled too.

"Hey, Ange?" Johnny stepped inside Angela's bedroom, with Clara only a few steps behind.

"Oooh, I love your room!" she squealed. Angela managed a weak thank you and then turned her attention to Johnny who motioned for her to speak with her in the hall.

"What is it?" Angela asked seriously.

"Well, aside from the fact that I'm getting sick of always being left with Clara, we have a little problem here."

"And it is?" Angela prompted.

"Today is the 12th. The Tate's are having a party on the 12th. We were invited to the party..." Johnny trailed off and raised his eyebrows.

Angela rolled her eyes and groaned. "Great, just great," she grumbled sarcastically, "well, I guess we'll just have to take Jack and Clara along." Johnny looked at his sister dubiously. Angela frowned at him, "Do you have any better ideas?"

Johnny sighed, "No, no I don't."

Angela frowned at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her hair for the last time. Her maid, Jeanne, secured a silver and amethyst choker around Angela's neck and handed Angela her gloves. Angela stepped back to examine her appearance in the full-length mirror. She was wearing an elaborately embroidered plum colored silk dress. Satisfied with what she saw, Angela paused to thank Jeanne and exited her bedroom. Strolling down the hall, she came to the Spanish room, where Clara was staying. She knocked softly before entering the room. Angela smiled upon seeing Clara in her new deep blue-green dress. Angela had picked it out, suspecting it would complement Clara's blond hair and green eyes very nicely. Clara smiled at Angela from her seat in front of a dressing table.

"I love this dress," Clara gushed, fingering the fabric. "It's the nicest thing I've ever seen," she added.

Angela smiled a little. "Well, it's yours to keep, you know." Clara looked at Angela quite surprised before exuberantly thanking her.

"Now," Angela said, turning to the maid, Brigitte, "let's do something about her hair." Clara wore her hair in two long blond braids, looped over the top of her head and secured in place. Clara protested momentarily but then allowed Brigitte to restyle her hair into an elaborate bun.

Clara wrung her hands nervously, trying to get used to wearing the gloves Angela had given her. She couldn't help but grin with excitement-she was attending a real party, with all of Boston's high society. She impatiently gazed about the carriage, Johnny, looking out the window, Angela, staring at her hands, sitting next to Jack. Clara smiled at Jack, noticing how impressive he looked in a tuxedo.

Jack smiled uneasily back at Clara and turned to Angela. "So, uh, is dis gonna be a long party?" he whispered in her ear.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Not too long I hope," she said wryly. "I'll have to do some quick introductions but we'll keep the socializing to a minimum," she added. Jack nodded, making a mental note to try and drop his accent.

Johnny looked up as the carriage came to a slow halt. "Well, we're here," he said anxiously, looking back out the window.

The Tate's lived in a beautiful Georgian plantation-style house, set on a grassy hill overlooking a magnificent garden. It was dusk, just dark enough to give the white house a glow with all its lights ablaze. Men and women made their was across the curved driveway and through the front entrance framed with marble columns.

"Are we ready?" Angela inquired, glancing at her companions awed faces.

"I, uh," Clara looked up at the house apprehensively, wringing her hands feverishly. "Well, I..." she looked at Angela pleadingly.

"You look fine. You'll be fine. Everything. Will. Be. Just. Fine," Angela said, trying to mask her impatience with Clara.

Clara nodded, still looking rather ill.

"All right then, let's go." Angela began walking up to the house. Clara gulped several times and grabbed Jack's arm, trying to calm herself. Angela looked at Clara. And at Jack. Johnny looked at Angela, expecting her to do something about this. But she said nothing. Squaring her shoulders she strolled tight-lipped through the front doors.

To tell the truth, Angela had never been very good at socializing at parties and the like. She didn't trust these people, and had a hard time acting natural in front of them. It tended to give people the slight impression of aloofness but, generally, most of her peers were too caught up in their own affairs to care. Interestingly enough, Clara, was quite the social butterfly. She seemed to be able to attach herself to the most popular girl in a matter of seconds, all will one arm around Jack, no less.

Angela stood in the corner, glaring out at the crowd. Johnny eyed her stormy expression and tense body language. "So, are you having a nice time with the fern?" Johnny ventured, referring to the plant Angela was standing next too.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Yeah, me and the fern over here, we're real close. We're going to elope tonight. His parents wouldn't approve of marriage to a human," she added sarcastically. Angela sighed and shifted her weight, standing up straighter. "You know, I felt sorry for Clara at first, getting sent to Boston by accident and having to stay with people she's never met before. But then it occurred to me...you'd have to be awful stupid to 'accidentally' get stuck on a train. It's just not that easy," Angela said dryly.

"Someone's bitter," Johnny observed, running his finger around the rim of his punch glass.

"With good reason!"

"All right, all right. Yes, with good reason," Johnny complied.

"Clara, can I talk to ya?" Jack hissed.

Clara turned and glared at Jack. "What is it?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Obviously chatting about inane subjects like tennis and and new dresses was more important than anything else. Jack felt stupid and self-conscious standing there with Clara hanging off of his arm. But it would be rude to just up and leave and moreover, he knew that Clara would become incredibly upset if he left. Still, he had to get away, before he passed out from boredom or before Angela's evil glare burned a hole through his skull.

"Excuse us," Clara smiled sweetly. She turned and dragged Jack away from the group, leading him to a secluded corner of the ballroom. "Now," she said softly, placing her arms around Jack's neck, "what was it you wanted to tell me?" she asked coyly.

Jack looked at her with a combination of fascination and disgust. He shook his head, his face hardening. "What do ya think you're doin'?" he asked abrasively.

"What?" Clara looked at Jack confused.

Jack shook his head sadly. "Get your hands offa me," he muttered, reaching up to remove Clara's grasp around his neck. "Look, I'm sick ‘a dis! I don't know what chu were thinkin' but I came here ta see Angela. Do ya understand that?" Jack looked at Clara upset and wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I knew you were upset because Angela went to Boston and you missed her. So I thought you could use some cheering up and-"

"Clara, that was way outta line! Ya don't do stuff like that!" Jack sputtered, completely aghast. "Ya knew full well dat I came here to see Angela, and yet ya," Jack shook his head in disgust, "look, I'm sorry but I don't like you that way, all right?" Jack sighed in exasperation and turned and walked away.

"That's it, I can't stand it any longer," Angela grumbled, standing up straight. She and Johnny had been standing in the corner for nearly the entire party. Johnny had attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere, but it hadn't worked very well. Especially after Jack and Clara disappeared from Angela's sight, lost in the crowd. Marching past Johnny, Angela began to cross the huge room, her eyes roving the crowd for any sight of Jack or Clara.

Passing through a pair of double doors into an adjacent room, Angela pushed past several couples until she spotted Clara standing alone in the corner of the room.

"Listen to me," Angela growled, spinning Clara around to face her, "I am getting sick and and tired of you always hanging off of Jack and throwing yourself at him! What are you trying to do?! I don't care if you like him but your behavior is revolting and completely unethical!! You don't try to...to...seduce someone!! You don't do that-it's wrong! Do you understand that?!? And I don't want you to be pulling any of that crap around me; have I made myself clear???"

Clara narrowed her eyes in contempt. "Maybe I'm just showing him a good time, after all, you certainly don't seem to be able to make Jack very happy. He needs a little excitement," she said tauntingly, her voice soft and sweet.

Angela shook her head, utterly amazed and disgusted. She sighed, unable to believe the words that had just escaped Clara's mouth. "Trash," she breathed, looking at Clara, unflinchingly. With that final statement she turned on her heel and stalked across the ball room.

Four angry figures ascended the DeLanci's spiraling oak staircase and entered their respective rooms, slamming their doors in tandem. Angela, upset not only with Clara but also a little hurt; Jack, angry and frustrated about Clara; Clara, hurt and confused about Jack; and Johnny, who was disgusted with the entire ordeal.

Jack rolled over and punched his pillow, trying to get comfortable in the foreign bed. He had been trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep for the past half hour. The bed was the nicest thing he'd ever seen but it didn't matter because he was unable to clear his mind and relax. What was he going to do about Clara? And how about Angela? And what exactly was he going to do in Boston anyway? Jack groaned and flopped onto his stomach, shoving the pillow under his chin. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come soon.

Jack's eyes suddenly snapped open. He stayed still, straining to hear. Yes, there is was again, this high pitched muffled sound. He rolled out of bed, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Jack stepped around the bed and leaned towards the wall that separated his room from Clara's. He pressed his ear against the wall and silently listened for several seconds. Jack sighed raggedly as he realized what the noise was. Clara was crying.

Jack sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair. Feelings of guilt washed over him, scorning him for being so harsh with her. Clara was just insecure; she didn't even know what she was doing! No, that was wrong. Now he was just validating Clara's behavior. Clara had been acting inappropriately, but Jack still felt guilty for being so harsh with her. Jack smiled wryly and shook his head. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep with this on his mind. He needed to tell someone and although he was wary of approaching her after the events of the evening, Jack decided to speak with Angela.

Silently opening the door, Jack made his way across the carpeted hallway to Angela's room. He frowned as he groped through the dark room, trying not to trip or crash into anything.

"Angie," he whispered, leaning over Angela's sleeping form. "Angie!" he repeated, louder this time. Angela didn't move; she was sound asleep. Jack knelt down and shook her gently.

"Mmmmm," Angela rolled over, still not awake.

"Angie!!" Jack pulled her up to a sitting position, forcing her to wake. Angela sighed and opened her eyes, unaware of her surroundings. At the sight of a dark shape looming over her bed, she jumped back and nearly screamed, her heart leaping to her throat.

"It's me, Jack," he hissed, kneeling by her bed so that she could see his face.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" Angela gasped.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jack apologized, grasping her hand.

"It's all right," Angela sighed and looked about the dark room. "Why did you wake me up?" she asked, confused. Jack sighed apprehensively. Angela scooted over and Jack gingerly sat down. "Now, what is it?"

"I was, well, I heard a noise, and...Clara cried herself ta sleep," Jack finally spat out. Angela groaned and put her face in her hands. "It's all me fault," Jack continued, "I got mad at her at that party-I mean, she was actin' real outta line an' hangin' all ova' me, but still...I must've been too harsh on her."

"It's my fault too," Angela said quietly, "I yelled at her about her...behavior and I even called her trash," Angela finished guiltily.

"You called her trash?" Jack said incredulously.

Angela glared at him. "Thanks for the support," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry." Jack gave her hand a squeeze.

"It's ok. So," Angela sighed, "what do you want to do about this? I mean, we both had our reasons for getting upset but..." She shook her head.

"Clara...I don't think she's...she jus' wants ta be liked. That's all she wants," Jack said simply.

Angela nodded "Well, she's awfully insecure! She was so nasty to me! Like she didn't know how else to handle the situation, like she was jealous."

"She is. She's been downright nasty ta Lynn lately, fer no real reason. She's had a hard time gettin' along at the Lodgin' House. And then," Jack lowered his voice, "she's just been all ova' me. But I-she's so insecure I don't wanna get mad because it'll hurt her feelings! But finally I couldn't take it. I mean, she was doing it in front of ya, knowingly, and well, it's just wrong."

"Someone needs to talk to her. She just doesn't understand what's right and what's not."

"You gonna do it?"

Angela shrugged. "I'll do it. Someone has to explain," she said firmly. "But it's going to have to wait until tomorrow. I'm tired."

They shared a moment of silence, contemplating the next day.

"Hey, Angie?"

"Yes?" She turned to face Jack. He stared into Angela's eyes. They were a warm brown, soft but determind. He studied her face, as if he were seeing it for the very first time; the laughing eyes, full, smiling lips, pale skin, pink cheeks, and well-defined dark eyebrows, arching across her forehead. Reaching out, he ran his hand through her think black hair, smoothing it out. Jack smiled and closed his eyes, content, feeling Angela's arms around his neck, her lips pressing against his.

Johnny, Jack, and Angela stared into their empty breakfast dishes, having finished eating quite a while ago. Mr. DeLanci had been called into the office, regardless of the fact that it was Saturday. Now they were all waiting for Clara to make her appearance at the breakfast table.

"Is sleeping this late...normal for Clara?" Johnny asked dubiously. Jack shrugged. Angela sighed and put her chin in her hand.

"I'm going to wake her up," Angela said flatly, standing up from the table. With that said, Angela exited the room and headed upstairs, to the Spanish room.

"Clara?" Angela knocked on the door. Hearing no response, she turned the doorknob and stepped inside. "Clara?" Angela repeated, approaching her sleeping form. Angela leaned over the bed, peering down at Clara. It was then that Angela realized that Clara was not sleeping. She was gone, a pile of pillows and an open window left in her wake.

"Oh, geez," Angela breathed, checking the room just to be sure. She leaned out the open window, cursing herself for selecting the Spanish room. The south window of the Spanish room has a large trellis, perfect for climbing, conviently located underneath it. Clara could have climbed out the window in a snap. Angela turned and fled the room.

Pounding down the staircase, she skidded into the dining room. "We have a VERY BIG PROBLEM!!" she thundered.

"What?!" Jack and Johnny jumped to their feet.

"Clara is GONE," Angela stared at Jack and Johnny, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"What d'ya mean by 'gone'?" Jack asked, confused.

"Gone, as is she opened the window and climbed down the trellis gone!"

"So you're telling me that as we speak Clara is trapsing around Boston?" Johnny ventured.

"Well, apparently so!" Angela snapped impatiently.

"Great! Just great! Wonderful! Clara is somewhere out there!" Johnny pointed to the window. "So now what?"

"Now we look for her," Jack said determindly.

"I can't believe anyone could do something so stupid! I mean, she's never been to Boston, she has no idea where to go! And yet she runs away and it's all my fault and argghhh!" Angela grumbled, as she as Jack stepped out onto the street. Johnny had refused to help look for Clara; he said it wasn't his responsibity and that he had better things to do. This only succeeded in upsetting Angela further but it was beyond her control.

Jack sighed. "C'mon, let's get started. You take dis side 'a the street and I'll take da other and we'll meet back here," he directed. Angela nodded and they separated, questioning every person they passed on the street, asking them if they had seen someone matching Clara's description.

Two hours later Jack and Angela sat on Angela's front steps. They had come up with...absolutely nothing. No one had seen anyone fitting Clara's description. Angela sighed, "C'mon," she said, standing up, "let's go inside and eat lunch."

"Well, hea' we go again," Jack said, as he and Angela walked back out onto the street, ready to begin searching anew.

"Hey, Angie."

"Yeah?"

"Do ya, um, have some change?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I wanted ta buy a paper. I kinda miss not knowin' the da days news." Jack said, sheepishly. Angela laughed but her smile vanished as her eyes fell on the newsie selling on the corner. It was Ice. Angela pursed her lips, not wanting to mention her discomfort to Jack as he dragged her across the street.

"We wanna buy a pape-" Jack sucked in his breath as Ice met his gaze, "paper. We'd like a paper." Ice handed a paper to Jack as Angela handed him a penny.

"We're looking for someone. A girl; she's tall with long blond hair?" Angela asked quietly. Ice looked at her, studying her face carefully.

"What's your name." It wasn't a question, it was an order.

"Angela DeLanci," Angela replied impatiently.

"What's your mother's name?"

"Excuse me?"

"What is your mother's name," Ice repeated, growing exasperated.

"Hey, why don't chu mind yer own-"

Angela had been studying Ice carefully and held up a hand to stop Jack. "My mother's name was Julianna," she said, perplexed by the question. Ice nodded; his face revealed no emotion.

"The girl you were looking for...green eyes? Wears her hair in two braids?"

"Yeah, dat's her," Jack nodded.

"Do you know where she is?"

Ice looked from Jack to Angela and silently turned and started walking down the street. Angela and Jack exchanged a glance before following him down the block. Ice led them to a small Irish neighborhood a few blocks east of Angela's house. He stopped in front of a small butcher shop and stepped inside. Jack and Angela followed him back behind the counter and up a small flight of stairs. They found themselves in a small corridor. Ice impatiently banged on the first door.

"Ryan, what are you doing here?" A tall young man with blue eyes and red-brown hair unlocked the door. Ice motioned with his head towards Jack and Angela. The man nodded and ushered them inside. Sitting at the small wooden kitchen table was none other than Clara, who was nursing a bruised cheek and cut lip.

"Clara, what happened to you?" Angela frowned at Clara's injuries. Clara rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath.

"Excuse me?" Jack looked at Clara sternly.

"Nothing," Clara muttered, refusing to take meet Jack's gaze. Not knowing what else to do, Jack sighed and sat down at the table.

"I'm sorry," a new voice broke in, "let me introduce myself. I'm Danny O'Flaghtery. That's my brother, Ryan," Danny indicated to Ice who was brooding in the kitchen corner.

"Yes, we've met," Angela said slowly.

"Jack. Jack Kelly," Jack shook Danny's outstreched hand.

"Angela DeLanci," Angela turned and also shook Danny's hand.

Suddenly, Ice stood up and crossed the room, pulling his brother aside. Ignoring them, Angela turned her attention back to Clara. Angela pulled out a chair and heavily sat down next to her.

"Clara," she began slowly, "I want to," Angela sighed and put her face in her hands, "apologize. I want to apologize...for my behavior. Last night...and...everything. I shouldn't have been so...harsh with you and I'm sorry," she finished.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Jack added sincerely.

"But," Angela interjected, "I'm still...upset. With you. About everything."

Jack nodded soberly. Clara sighed and continued pressing the raw steak Danny had given her against her swelling cheek. Jack looked at her and slowly grinned. "Now wouldja mind tellin' us how ya got yer face banged up?" he asked wryly.

Clara smiled slightly and parted her lips, about to launch into her explanation.

"Excuse me, Angela?"

"Hmm? Yes?" Angela turned to face Danny. Danny looked at her cautiously and began to shake his head, decideing against asking his question. He then paused and looked at Angela for a moment, his face clearing.

"What was your mother's name?" Danny finally asked.

Angela's eyes grew wide. "Julianna...why?"

Danny smiled a little. "It's nothing," his shook his head, "you just, well you remind me of her."

"Wha-"

"Really? Really!? She reminds your of her mother, how sweet," Ice's words oozed with sarcacism, "tell me, why is that? Exactly why does she remind you of her mother, hmm? Is it because she's rich? Or maybe because she's a hypocrite who's too educated for her own good?" Ice's eyes blazed, his voice cracking. He stared at his dumbfounded brother for a brief moment before turning and storming out of the arpartment.

"Ryan! RYAN! Damnit!" Danny called after him. "Oh, geez, I am sorry. I-I just," he shook his head in defeat.

"No, no, it's ok," Angela said, still shocked. "I mean, I think it's ok..." she mumbled.

"What was...that?" Jack ventured, also shocked. He exchanged a look with Angela. Clara adjusted her steak. Danny paced up and down the living room.

"Danny, could you please explain what's going on? How do you know...my mother?"

"She never told you?" Danny looked at Angela, surprised.

Angela shrugged slightly and looked at her shoes. "She didn't really have the chance," Angela whispered. Danny looked at her confused. "My mother died. Fifteen years ago."

"Oh. Oh God. Oh, it all makes sense now," Danny breathed, his eyes lighting up.

Angela frantically searched Danny's face, confused and upset. "What? What? What is going on? What makes sense?!?! WHAT IS IT!?!?!" Angela's voice rose with each outburst. "TELL ME!!!" she roared, grabbing Danny by the shirt.

"Angie! Ange!" Jack carefully loosened Angela's death grip on Danny, pulling her away from him. "It's ok," he said soothingly, trying to calm her down.

"Just-please." Angela said quietly.

Danny sat down in a chair and motioned for Angela and Jack to sit across from him on the sofa. "Do you know what the orphan trains are?" Danny asked. Angela nodded, adjusting her skirt. "When I was nine years old, Ryan and I were sent to Iowa on one of the orphan trains. Your mother helped organize it. She arranged everything for us and promised that we would be given to a nice family. But things didn't work out as they were supposed to. There was a...miscommunication.

"When we arrived in Iowa, there was no one there waiting to take us to our new home. There didn't seem to be any records of us at all. The woman there sent us back to Boston and it was back to the orphanage for us," Danny sighed and smiled slightly. "Your mother was livid, she was so upset," he chuckled then his face grew serious, "she was going to adopt us herself. She would take us out and spend lots of time with us... She told us we could call her Mom and that we would have a little sister and an older brother...it really seemed like we would be getting a real home. It seemed like maybe, just maybe, we would be one of the lucky ones who did get adopted by a family, instead of being forgotten at an orphanage. But then, suddenly..." Danny trailed off and shook his head.

"We never heard from her again. We knew something was going on but no one told us anything. So we just assumed that she must have changed her mind. That she didn't want us anymore. I blamed myself. I worried that I had done something wrong to upset her, something that had made her not want me. Ryan blamed your mother. He was so angry; it was like there was this rage pent up inside him. He still carrys around with him. I don't know what to do with him," Danny threw up his hands in defeat and leaned back in the chair, a faraway look on his face.

Angela shook her head, shocked. "We moved shortly after her death," Angela said slowly, "to Europe." Angela shook her head, not knowing how to respond. "God, I just-" she shook her head again, "I- I don't..." Angela sighed heavily and threw her hands up in defeat and frustration. She crossed her arms over her chest and stalked across the room to the window.

"It's a beautiful day," Angela said quietly, running her fingertips against the windowpane.

"Yeah, it is," Jack breathed, coming up behind Angela. She didn't respond but continued to stare vacantly out the window. It was a wonderful fall day, with the sky an amazing blue. The leaves were just reaching their peak of color, in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red.

"I love fall. Really. I do. It's my favorite time of year," Angela said numbly, her voice barely audible. She paused thoughtfully. "Have I ever told you that?" she asked, turning to Jack.

Jack smiled slightly. "Talk ta me," he said.

"I can't," Angela said softly.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what to say."

Jack looked at her reproachfully. "Ta me? Ya don't know what to say ta me?"

"No, no, no. I-well, NO. That's not it at all. I'm just not-" Angela struggled for words.

"Ready?" Jack ventured.

"Yes. Exactly. Now...what are we going to do?" Jack raised his eyebrows at Angela. "Oh, fine," she muttered.

"Um, Danny," Angela said, turning, "thank you for your hospitality and for taking care of, uh, Clara, and everything."

"It was nothing, really. I want to apologize for Ryan; I feel so bad."

"No, no, it's all right. I would like to talk to you...about my mother. If you don't mind, of course."

Danny smiled, "You're welcome to stop by anytime, I'd be happy to talk to you."

"Thank you. And please, I'd like to invite you and Ryan to dinner tonight. It's just casual. 7 o'clock. The corner house, Number 26 on South 7th Avenue." Danny began to shake his head. "Please come," Angela said, her eyes imploring him.

Danny sighed. "Oh, all right," he mumbled, sheepishly.

Angela grinned. "Great. Now, we won't inconvenience you any longer. Thanks again," Angela said, grabbing Clara by the wrist and dragging her out the door. Once in the hall, Clara vigorously shook off Angela's grasp, as if it were utterly revolting. Angela glanced at her out of the corner of her eye but said nothing.

The trio walked back to Angela's house in a tense silence, Clara dragging her feet heavily.

"Get Clara some ice," Angela said tersely, as Jeanne opened the door for them. She then turned and left Jack and Clara standing in the doorway.

"Angie, what's with chu?" Jack demanded, following her into the library.

"Jack," Angela sighed and shook her head, "what are you going to do?"

"What are ya talkin' about?"

"Well, I mean, here you are! Here you are in Boston! So now what? I mean, what are you planning to do here? When are you going back to New York?"

"Oh, what? Ya want me ta leave now?" Jack asked, defensively.

"No! Of course not! Why do you keep doing that?" Angela cried, frowning.

"Doing what?"

"You keep..I don't know, just like... You keep misinterpreting what I mean! It's so aggravating!" Angela gestured elaborating with her hands.

Jack looked at her darkly and turned away. He sat there for several moments, not saying a word.

"I mean, I'd just like some answers for once," she sighed and put her hands on her hips.

"How come it's always my fault?" Jack mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"What I mean is," Jack straightened, "why are you da one who always needs answers from me? And why do I always not unda'stand stuff? Don't you eva' do anythin' wrong?" he finished, his voice barely above a whisper. His face was blank. He refused to look Angela in the eye.

Angela swallowed hard and sat down next to Jack, her eyes glazed over. "Am I really that awful? Am I really that much of a spoiled brat?" Angela whispered, horrified. "God, I'm sorry...I just..." Angela shook her head, feeling absolutely terrible. She had never been one to worry about what other people thought of her but in the eyes of the one person that it truly mattered, she had screwed up, big time. "Excuse me," she said in a shaky voice and stood up abruptly.

"No, Angie. I-I didn't mean it," Jack called weakly after her. Angela paused in mid-stride, her back to him. "Then why did you say it," she asked, her voice low and her words measured carefully. "You wouldn't have said it unless it was true. At least partly." She slowly turned to face Jack. His face fell. Angela sighed, her eyes flicking down to the floor then back up again. "I'm sorry," she said calmly, "I'm sorry I've been such a pain. I'm sorry for my behavior. I'm sorry that that's the impression I put across. I'm sorry." She paused. "I'll arrange for you and Clara to catch the 4:15 train to New York. You'll be home by dinnertime. Goodbye, Jack," Angela smiled slightly, "I love you," she whispered. Angela painfully closed her eyes and walked out of the room.