A Long December

"Jack, I don't get it. Ya didn't accomplish anythin' in Boston," Race said, eying his handful of cards.

"Dat's the point," Crutchy said matter-of-factly, putting two of his cards down.

Jack looked over his cards and sort of shrugged. "Yeah, I know," he muttered.

"I fold," Crutchy said, defeated.

"Call," Race said, chewing on his ever-present cigar.

Jack leaned back and placed his cards on the table, "Full house."

Race raised his eyebrows, "Geez, Jack, you been cleanin' up lately!" Jack just sort of shrugged again. He didn't really feel like playing poker. Neither did anyone else. The three friends all instinctively turned their eyes away from the table and gazed out the Lodging House window.

"Awful day, ain't it?" Crutchy noted.

It was an awful day. It was mid-December and New York was cold and gray. An icy sleet pelted the roof, melting soon after it reached the ground. The selling was equally dreadful and most of the newsies were inside the Lodging House, trying to occupy themselves for the afternoon. Jack sighed. Crutchy watched his friend staring out the window and finally sighed himself. Race turned back to the table and began to gather the cards into a neat pile.

"Ya think it'll snow by Christmas?" Crutchy ventured.

Jack just halfheartedly shrugged at the comment. " I s'pose."

"Aw, yeah, ‘a course it'll snow," Race said confidently, hoping to shift the conversation to a brighter note. But it was hard, as it always was at that time of year. As the holidays approached, Race was constantly reminded of how his weak celebration paled severely in comparison to most people's Christmases.

Christmas at the Lodging House was always enjoyable, but Race, along with many of the other boys, were envious of their peers, who were able to enjoy the holidays with real presents and real family. Just once, Race wanted a real Christmas, for everyone.

The large black steam engine heaved a large sigh and pulled to a stop in New York's Grand Central Station. Angela drummed her fingers on the railing, waiting for the other passengers to file off the train. She strained to peer over the shoulders of the man in front of her, in the hope of seeing the line actually move. Slowly, the passengers lurched off the train. Angela smiled and breathed in deeply as she reached fresh air. But all she was greeted with were the foul smells of the rotting city and a cold, gray sleet.

"Hey, Ange, could we speed it up? I'm not getting any younger here," Johnny said, interrupting Angela's thoughts.

"Sorry," Angela rolled her eyes and stepped onto the pavement.

"Nice day," Johnny observed, glancing around.

"Lovely."

"Hey, isn't this one of those...those whatchamacallits-" Johnny frowned, and gestured with his hand, trying to remember. Angela glared at him.

"A sign. It's a sign," she said dryly.

"Yeah, a sign. A bad sign," he added, looking up at the sky again. Angela rolled her eyes, "Shut up." She sighed and stalked away.

Angela shoved her hands in her pockets and shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. At least it was sunny today, she noted. Still, it had yet to snow and Christmas was only ten days away.

"Person I don't know, person I don't know, person I don't know..." Angela mumbled to herself and she watched the people exit the train. It had just arrived in from Chicago. She scanned the passengers for her aunt, uncle, and her cousins.

With a sigh, she turned back to the train. "Person I don't know, person I don't know, person I don't know...."

"Angela!" A voice hissed her ear, as a pair of cold hands landed on top of her eyes from behind. Angela let out a shriek of surprise and spun around.

"FRANKIE!" she squealed and threw her arms around a tall, slight built boy of about eighteen. He had light brown hair that was just a little too long and wild and lively blue eyes.

"I haven't seen you since..." Frankie frowned, studying his cousin.

"Last Christmas?" Angela supplied.

"Yeah, that works," Frankie nodded.

Angela laughed. "Where's everyone?" she asked.

Frankie shrugged. "They're coming." He turned and look around the station. "Hey, MIKEY!" Frankie hollered to a younger boy with dark brown hair who was wrestling with several suitcases.

"Angela!" A women's voice exclaimed.

"Aunt Nancy!" Angela's last words were lost as she was smothered in a hug from a large woman with curly red-brown hair.

"My goodness, look at you!" Angela smiled weakly at her aunt. "Oh, look at how much you've grown! Turn around for me!"

Frankie shot Angela a sympathetic look at she turned around in a circle.

Aunt Nancy shook her head. "I can't believe it. Tony! Come here! Just look at her," she said as a tall, dark haired man with a round face and heavy-lidded eyes joined her. "Turn again, dear," Nancy said with a wave of her hand. Angela winced but turned again for her uncle.

"Mmm hmm," Tony nodded.

"She's turning into a regular lady," Nancy said, turning to her husband.

"Mmm hmm," Tony nodded again.

"Well, c'mon, we don't want to keep Uncle Richard and Johnny waiting now!" Frankie admonished comically.

"Oh, my goodness, you're right. Tony hurry up, get those bags. Michael..."

"Thank you," Angela said, relieved.

"Anytime," Frankie assured her.

Angela thoughtfully folded the edge of the green wrapping paper over and taped it in place.

"Is that for me?" Angela glanced up to see her cousin Frankie peering over her shoulder.

"No, it's not," Angela said, standing up and crossing the room. She opened one of her drawers and shoved the present under some clothing.

"Then whose present is it?" Frankie asked, plopping down in a chair.

"Johnny's," Angela smiled, sitting down on her bed.

"Uh huh," Frankie murmured, studying the apple he held in his hands. "Here," he said, tossing the apple to Angela, "does that look ok?"

Angela turned the apple over in her hands, carefully examining it. "A little bruised maybe, but it looks edible." She shrugged and threw the apple back to Frankie.

"So," Frankie said, turning so that he was sitting sideways in the chair, "what are you getting for Christmas?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "A lot of stuff I don't want?" she ventured.

"Well, obviously," Frankie scoffed. "Seriously though," Frankie turned and looked Angela in the eye, "what do you want for Christmas."

Angela looked at Frankie for a moment and then laughed. "What do I want?" Angela shook her head. "What do I want..." She sighed and looked back at Frankie. "It's not something that anyone could ever give me..." Angela paused to think. "I want...You know what I what? I want Christmas with everyone. Not just the family...but like everyone. I want a real Christmas." Angela smiled a little. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Like a wonderful Christmas-the kind you read about in story books, where everything is beautiful and perfect. And, and, everyone is happy and together," Angela's eyes lit up as she got excited, "and the air smells like cinnamon and pine and the tree is just right and the presents are lovely and you sing Christmas carols and everyone is happy-" Angela stopped herself, feeling foolish. "It's silly, I know. It's impossible too. But I'd like to think that maybe I could have it." Angela smiled to herself.

Frankie smiled at Angela. "It's not silly. I think that deep down that's what everybody wants."

"Yeah," Angela said, choking on the word. Frankie's eyes grew wide. "Hey, Angie, what's wrong?" he asked, shocked.

"Don't call me that," she sniffed.

"I'm sorry, Ange," Frankie said sadly, sitting down next to her. "What's wrong?" he whispered. Angela just shook her head violently. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Frankie said miserably, his usually smiling mouth turning to a frown.

"It's not...your...fault," Angela managed to gasp. She was crying pretty hard, Frankie noted. It was the kind of crying that gave you the hiccups and made your chest hurt when you tried to breathe.

"Angela, what's wrong?" Frankie asked quietly, rubbing her back. Angela did her best to get her composure back. She sniffed repeatedly and hiccuped. "Here," Frankie said, handing Angela his handkerchief. Angela took it and blew her nose. She swallowed and then looked down at the handkerchief. Her face crumpled and she let out a wail and began bawling again.

"Angela!" Frankie cried, growing worried. She just turned and buried her face in his shoulder. "B-b-but," Frankie sputtered, staring at the handkerchief that Angela had chucked on the floor. "I don't understand; it's just a red handkerchief!"

Angela looked up at him defensively. "It's a red bandanna, you moron!"

Angela returned from the bathroom to find Frankie laying on her bed, staring despondently at the ceiling. "I'm sorry," he wailed.

"It's not your fault," Angela said quietly.

"I think you have some water damage," Frankie said, scrutinizing the ceiling. Angela laughed and sat down on the bed. Frankie sat up and put his chin in his hand. "So I'm sitting here, trying to figure out what made you so upset...and I haven't the faintest idea. So I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me; only if you want to that is."

"I haven't," Angela frowned, trying to collect her thoughts, "I haven't...felt very...good... in a long time. I don't mean I've been sick. I mean I haven't felt good. I've been unhappy. Well, more than normal at least. And when you asked me about what I wanted for Christmas..." Angela shook her head. "It just reminded me I guess." Angela laughed slightly. "You know, if you don't think to much about how you feel, you forget you're so depressed."

"What about the handkerchief?" Frankie asked. He immediately regretted saying it for fear that she might start crying all over again.

"It reminded me of why I'm not happy."

"Which is?"

"Jack."

"Ohhhh. So it's a guy," Frankie grinned.

"No, don't do that. Please don't. Don't make fun of it like that. Jack was my best friend. And, yes, he was more than that. But don't trivialize it. It's important to me."

"I'm sorry. I thought I was your best friend," Frankie teased.

Angela rolled her eyes. "You are. But you live half-way across the country." Angela shook her head sadly. "Frankie," she added softly, "I want my perfect Christmas."

"What do you mean you want the Manhattan newsies to come to Christmas?" Johnny frowned.

"I mean I want to share Christmas with the Manhattan newsies! It's not that hard a concept," Angela grumbled.

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Dad'll never let you."

"I'll never let who do what?" Richard DeLanci asked upon entering the room.

"Angela have newsies over for Christmas," Johnny said breezily. Angela narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Brat," she mouthed. Johnny stuck his tongue out in response. Mr. DeLanci watched his children's exchange with raised eyebrows.

"How old are the two of you? Seven?" he asked, somewhat amused.

Angela sighed. "Seriously, could I have some friends over for Christmas eve?" She looked at her father hopefully. Mr. DeLanci looked at his daughter dubiously.

"Angela, I don't think so. We're having family over and..." He shook his head.

"Why not? We haven't planned anything and no one can criticize you for allowing me to do it."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Richard DeLanci raised his eyebrows at his daughter.

"Because you would look like you were doing something charitable for the, ahem, "underprivileged" children. Anyone who criticized you would appear selfish and heartless."

"Besides, isn't something like this what the holiday is really all about?" Frankie spoke up for the first time.

Mr. DeLanci sighed and studied his children. His face softened. "Angela, I think it's a beautiful idea. It reminds me of something your mother would have done," he smiled slightly. "Your friends are more than welcome to spend their Christmas eve with us."

Jack trudged down the street in the glow of the late afternoon sun. He slowed, stopping to take in his surroundings. He didn't have anywhere to be and all his papers were sold. Jack smiled as he watched the people passing him on their way home or perhaps off to do some Christmas shopping. He shook his head. Still no snow. Nonetheless, New York was still beautiful this time of year. Jack strolled past the street vendors, selling anything from apples to crockery. His eyes fell upon a booth selling jewelry. Suddenly Jack found himself a several week's wages shorter.

"Hey, Jack," Racetrack approached his friend. "Jack, what's that?"

Jack looked down at his hands. In them he held a silver choker, shaped into delicate swirls and set with three small pearls. "I..."

Race looked at his friend, very worried. "Jack. Who's it for? Jack! Answer me!"

"It's...It's for...." Jack sighed in defeat. "It's for no one," he said very quietly.

"Oh God, Jack..." Race said sadly, realizing who Jack had purchased the choker for. He shook his head. "Ya know, I prolly shouldn't be tellin' ya dis but Angela's back."

Jack turned to his friend, his eyes wide.

Race sort of shrugged. "It was in da Society page of the paper: ‘Richard DeLanci Returns ta New Yawk fer Holidays'. I mean, in the paper fer pete's sake," Race smiled wryly then grew serious. "So ya gonna go see ‘er?"

Jack opened his mouth but no sound came out. Finally he sighed. "No. No. I can't."

"So I was thinking that lovely green dress in the window would really bring out the red highlights in your hair," Frankie said, slightly out of breath.

"Do I know you?" A small girl with red-brown hair wearing a deep blue dress turned and looked at Frankie strangely as he struggled to keep up with her.

"Well..." Frankie paused to think for a moment. "No. No. You have no idea who I am. I'm not even from New York," he said flatly. "I'm a mysterious foreigner," Frankie said dramatically and wiggled his eyebrows. The girl just started walking faster.

"Ah, ah, ah," Frankie said, turning around so that he was walking backwards down the street. "My name is Frank DeLanci. It's a pleasure to meet you," Frankie extended his hand. The girl looked at him with wide blue eyes before turning her gaze back to the ground.

"Excuse me. Please," she said, trying to step around Frankie who promptly moved to block her way. Frankie grinned stupidly as she tried to get past him. Finally, the girl stopped and sighed. Frankie extended his hand once more. The girl glared at Frankie before grudgingly placing her hand in his.

"As I just said, Frank DeLanci."

"Marianne Whitfield," the girl said tersely, snatching her hand back from Frankie's grasp. Marianne finally brought her gaze up to meet his. She glared at him.

"Well," Frankie said, trying to mask his injured feelings, "it wasn't that painful, was it?" he asked quietly.

Sighing, Marianne pursed her lips. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. DeLanci-"

"Frank."

"If you'll excuse me...Frank," she met his gaze upon uttering the word, "I have an appointment." With that, she brushed past Frankie and continued down Amsterdam Avenue. Frankie sighed and rolled his eyes, his shoulders sagging.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Angela asked as she stepped out of the candy store and onto the street.

Frankie sighed. "Nothing." Angela shifted the bag of candy and studied Frankie for a moment. It was more than obvious from his forlorn expression that Frankie's ‘nothing' was indeed something. He sort of looks like a sad puppy dog, Angela thought to herself. She then turned and followed Frankie's gaze. He was staring at pretty brown-haired girl across the street. She was talking to a blond boy wearing an all-too-familiar eye patch. Blink? Angela though to herself. The girl suddenly laughed at something Blink said and he smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Frankie sighed heavily.

"C'mon," Angela said, placing her hand on Frankie's shoulder, "let's go home."

"Hundred papes," Jack said, slapping down fifty cents. He sniffed as he stepped off the platform with his papers. "Heya, Dave," Jack sniffed again. He turned to his side and sneezed.

"Jack, are you ok?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Jack replied, still sniffing. David looked at him skeptically but didn't comment. The two boys headed out into the New York streets for another day of selling under a light snowfall.

"So," David said, smiling at the fresh snow, "do you celebrate Christmas at the Lodging House?"

"AHH-CHOO!" Jack sniffed as he recovered from the sneeze. "Uh, yeah, yeah we do. We take up a collection and Kloppy buys a tree an' some candy fer everyone. So, uh," Jack paused to sniff again, "how's um, Hanukkah?"

"It's been good. My dad found a new job so we've been able to afford some presents and Les is going back to school now."

"Really? Wow. Dat's gre-" Jack's words were lost as he lapsed into a bout of coughing and hacking.

"Geez, Jack, are you sure you're all right?" David asked, looking at Jack worriedly.

"I'm fine," Jack stated. "I'm jus' fine," he repeated under his breath as he began to sell his newspapers.

"Francisco! Angelina! Richard! Anthony! Michael! Nancy! Jonathan!" A short, squat women with gray hair and a slight foreign accent came bustling through the front doors.

"Grandma!" Angela cried as she hugged the woman.

"Ohh, ohh, Frankie, look at chu!" A wrinkled old man with slightly buck teeth, a large nose, and smiling eyes grabbed Frankie's cheek. He grinned, seeming to enjoy pinching his grandson's cheek.

"Hi Grandpa," Frankie mumbled.

"Eh, that's a boy. Give your grandfather a hug now," the man said, releasing Frankie's cheek.

There was much talk and laughter as more relatives streamed through the front doors. There was Great Aunt Rosie and Great Uncle Leo, Grandpa and Grandma, Tony, the oldest brother with his wife, Nancy and their children, Frankie and Michael, then Richard, and his children, Angela and Johnny, Pete, his wife, Vicki and their two girls, Amanda and Jean, Vicki's brother, Jonah, his wife, Annette and their three kids, Serena, Anna, and Henry, James, his wife, Harriet, Harriet's sister, Maureen, her husband, Allen, and their daughter, Josephine, and finally, the youngest brother, William. The normally calm DeLanci household was in utter chaos with 26 relatives staying there until the new year.

"Johnny, what does this say?" Angela squinted at her grandmother's cryptic handwriting. She offered the list to Johnny who studied it.

"Umm, maybe...basil?"

"No, it says basil at the top of the list," Angela leaned over Johnny's shoulder at the list, "maybe...oregano?"

"Anise?" Johnny guessed.

"Oh, let's just get both," Angela grumbled and then set about looking through the shelves at the spice shop. After gathering all the seasonings her grandmother had requested, she approached the counter and paid for her purchase. Her grandmother insisted on the family fixing their own Christmas dinner even though the DeLanci's had a cook. Angela didn't mind though. She was glad that her grandmother tried to uphold some of the old traditions. Grandma always grumbled about immigrating to America from northern Italy after she married Grandpa and how he had changed their last name, and how her children had forgotten all the old customs but she knew it wasn't really that bad.

"Thank you," Angela said, picking the package up off the counter. She then walked around the corner to the meat market where Johnny was getting some beef tenderloin and chicken. Angela entered the deli only to find Johnny at the end of a very long line.

"Why is it so crowded today?" she asked.

Johnny shrugged. "I dunno. Sale on chicken livers?"

"Well, I'm going to go put this," Angela indicated the box of spices, "in the carriage and then I'll meet you back here." With that, Angela breezed out of the deli.

Angela strolled back up the street after having loaded the spices in the carriage. Rounding the corner, she bumped right into David Jacobs.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Angela cried.

"Angela! You're back in New York!"

"Oh! David! Hi! Yes, I'm back for Christmas."

"So, how are you?"

"I'm doing all right. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing good," David replied. "Hey, Jack!" David called, turning around, "look who's back!" Angela cringed inwardly. She knew David meant well, but right about then she wanted to smack the kid. Following David's gaze, she saw Jack slowly coming down the street towards them. Angela frowned.

"David, is it just me or...is Jack...wobbling?" Angela asked uncertainly.

"Oh no," David muttered darkly, starting towards his friend. Jack was indeed having trouble walking. He was weaving from side to side and threatening to topple at any moment. Jack stopped and placed his hand on the side of a building to steady himself, his papers slowly sliding out of his hands to the ground. Suddenly, Jack began coughing violently, his entire body heaving from the force of it. Jack took one final staggering step forward before falling to his knees and collapsing in the snow.

"Oh my God," Angela gasped upon reaching Jack. She and David knelt in the snow next to him. Jack's face was extremely pale. Angela grasped his hand which was icy cold yet he seemed to be perspiring profusely. "How long has he been like this?" Angela exclaimed as David frantically tired to revive his friend.

"He's been coughing and sneezing for about five days now," David said, checking Jack's pulse. Angela reached a hand out and felt Jack's forehead.

"He's warm," Angela said quietly. She then reached out and felt David's forehead and then felt Jack's again. Angela gasped and scrambled to her feet.

"What is it?" David asked, becoming increasingly worried as he saw the shocked look on Angela's face.

"Angela, what happened?" Johnny yelped, stepping out of the deli.

"Go get the carriage, NOW," Angela ordered. Johnny scurried down the street, juggling several packages of meats.

"Help me," Angela said, reaching down and attempting to lift Jack up.

"What do you think you're doing?" David snapped.

"Getting him off the ground!" Angela snapped back. She looked at David pointedly. "Help me!" she practically shouted. David stared at Angela, a twisted look of fascination on his face. Angela's eyes grew wide as she watched the carriage coming up the street towards them. "For God's sake David, help me! I can't do this alone! My God, we need to get him to a doctor!" Angela shrieked.

David looked at her hard but said nothing. He simply bent down and picked up Jack's legs. Johnny jumped out of the carriage as it came to a halt in the middle of the street.

"C'mon, we're holding up traffic," Johnny breathed, helping David and Angela lift Jack into the carriage.

"Home! As fast as you can!" Johnny yelled, slamming the carriage door.

"Home?!" David cried. "Why are you taking him home?!" David's voice jumped about two octaves as he screamed at Angela and Johnny. "I thought you said he needed a doctor!"

"My uncle IS a doctor!" both Angela and Johnny screamed in unison.

"Sorry," David mumbled.

Johnny rang the doorbell repeatedly and then began banging his fist on the door.

"Hey," Frankie said, swinging open the door, "what's the rus-" Before Frankie could finish he was brushed aside by Johnny, Angela, and a tall boy with curly brown hair whom he didn't recognize. The three of them were struggling with the limp body of a tall, sandy blond haired boy who looked decidedly ill.

"Get Uncle Will," Angela grunted at the three of them carried Jack upstairs.

"Here," David said, opening a door.

"No,we can't put him in there! That's my room!" Johnny protested. Angela rolled her eyes and sighed.

"FINE." Angela growled. "There, how about this room?"

"I thought Maureen and Allen were going to stay in that room."

"They can move. We have space," Angela said through gritted teeth. The entourage stumbled into the guest bedroom and did their best to gently place Jack on the bed. A few moments later, Frankie burst into the room, followed by William DeLanci.

Angela, Johnny, David, and Frankie gathered in the corner, waiting for the diagnosis.

"What happened?" Frankie said softly. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry. Frank DeLanci," Frankie extended his hand out to David.

"David Jacobs."

"Ok, now, what happened? And who is that?" Frankie asked, gesturing to the bed.

"That's Jack Kelly," David explained. "He's been sick for several days and just a few minutes ago he passed out in the street."

"Sheesh," Frankie said, running a hand through his messy brown hair.

"I take it you three know him personally then?" Uncle Will asked, breaking into the conversation. Johnny, David, and Angela nodded. "Well, your friend is pretty sick," Will watched the four anxious young faces fall, "however, he should be just fine if he stays in bed for the next week. Right now, he seems to have a pretty bad chest cold and a sinus infection. I don't want to him to be going outside anytime soon. He needs to take it easy for a while."

David shook his had. "There is no way Jack is going to not work for the next week."

"What does Jack do?" Will asked.

"He's a newsie."

Uncle Will shook his head gravely. "He will not get better if he doesn't rest and stay indoors. His condition will worsen and he could get pneumonia."

"But Jack won't do it," David argued.

"Then Jack is staying right here until he gets better," Uncle Will replied unflinchingly.

Jack Kelly groaned and cracked his eyes open. His head was pounding and his face felt like it was on fire. Squinting about the room, Jack quickly realized that he wasn't at the Lodging House. He was laying down on a strange bed. The room he was in was dark except for the filmy sunlight coming through a window on the far wall. Jack's eyes drifted over an armoire made of dark wood, a mirror, an oil painting, bookshelves, and blue chairs. Jack shook his head in confusion and tried unsuccessfully to sit up. His limbs felt like lead weights and his muscles were about as functional as grape jelly. Jack winced and collapsed back into the bed. Sighing, he tried to remember what had happened earlier that day. I was selling my papes...I felt dizzy...walking towards Dave... Jack squeezed his eyes shut, giving up. It hurt too much to think.

Jack's reverie was broken as muffled voices floated through the door. Jack rolled his eyes towards the door and watched as it slowly opened. A young man with short, dark hair carrying a small hand bag stepped into the room. He was followed by a tall boy in his late teens with slightly messy brown hair. A little girl of about ten poked her head in the doorway as well but the boy shooed her away. Jack stared up at them apprehensively.

"Well, I see you're awake," the man smiled at him. Jack halfheartedly nodded. "My name is Will DeLanci. I'm a doctor." Uncle Will extended his hand to Jack.

Jack's eyes grew wide at the mention of the man's name. "Jack Kelly," Jack replied weakly, shaking the man's hand. Jack's eyes frantically scanned the room, as if he were looking for some way to escape. Jack fought back the urge to flee the room. Angela's house was the last place he wanted to be.

"How do you feel?" Will asked, kneeling down next to the bed.

Jack shifted his attention back to the doctor. "Um, not so good," he mumbled. "My head is killin' me an' I feel really hot. An' me throat hurts and me arms feel like mush," Jack croaked.

"Mmm," Uncle Will nodded and, reaching into his bag, he produced several medical instruments.

"I'll get him some water," the boy spoke up.

"Thank you, Frankie," Will said, as he peered down Jack's throat. Frankie nodded and then slipped out into the hallway. He breezed down the stairs and paused to stick his head into a small sitting room next to the kitchen. Johnny, Angela, and David were glumly sitting on the chairs or sofa in silence.

"Jack's awake," Frankie said before continuing on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Johnny and David jumped to their feet but Angela just crossed her arms and sat back in the sofa cushions.

"Ange, are you coming or what?" Johnny asked, irritated at her behavior. Angela just stared at him and refused to answer. Johnny glared back at her and for several seconds they were locked in a staring contest.

"Angela," David broke in. Angela flicked her gaze to David who looked at her wearily. Angela scowled but stood up and followed them out of the room.

Angela stopped short at the door to the room. Both Johnny and David looked at her pointedly.

"Fine," she grumbled and pushed the door open and walked inside.

Jack looked up to see his visitors walk into the room.

"Hey," Angela said quietly.

"Hey," Jack mumbled, watching his visitors file into the room. Frankie squeezed past the door jam and handed Jack a glass of water.

"Here," Uncle Will said as he finished pouring a dark red liquid into a large silver spoon. He extended the spoon towards Jack's mouth. Jack stared at the medicine for a moment before opening his mouth and obediently swallowing it. He grimaced as the bitter syrup slid down his raw throat but he did not complain.

Uncle Will set the medicine on the nightstand and turned to his niece. "He'll need at least three spoonfuls a day. Once with every meal and more often if necessary. Don't keep him up too long; he needs his rest," Uncle Will then quietly stepped out of the room. Angela resisted the urge to inquire as to when she had been designated 'nurse'. She just sighed at turned her gaze back to Jack. He was staring lethargically off into space, his eyes only half open. Sweat was starting to bead on his forehead and he sniffled.

"So..." Johnny said, breaking the awkward silence.

"So, um..." David rocked on his heels. Angela rolled her eyes as an anxious silence descended upon the room once more.

"Look, you're pretty darn sick and you need your rest or you're not going to get better. So in short, you're going to be bedridden for a while but you're going to be just fine," Angela explained, "So Johnny, David, and I just wanted to let you know that and that we hope you feel better. We're going to let you relax and get some rest now, all right?"

Jack nodded. He turned his head and opened his mouth to say something but he lapsed into a fit of coughing. Johnny reached over and handed him the water off the nightstand. "Thanks," Jack gasped between coughs.

"Well, Jack, I'll see you soon," David said after his friend had recovered. Jack nodded and his visitors left the room.

Angela leaned against the doorway, watching David put his coat on. "Dave," she said, tugging him by the sleeve before he stepped out the front door.

"Yes?" he asked, turning to Angela.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything,"

Angela nodded and pursed her lips. "Would you please go to the Lodging House and tell the other newsies what happened to Jack?"

David nodded.

"And please, give them this address. They're more than welcome to come visit him."

"Of course," David said, nodding in understanding.

"And there's one more thing," Angela smiled a little. "I need your opinion on something."

"Ok," David said, nodding.

"Christmas eve, I'd like to invite all of Jack's friends, Mr. Kloppman, you, everyone at the Lodging House over for a party."

David flushed slightly. "Well, yes, but I'm Jewish," he said, embarrassed.

Angela laughed. "No, no. I mean," Angela's eyes grew wide as she realized that she had just sounded like she was making fun of David, "I know you're Jewish. That's not an issue. You and your family are invited, regardless if you celebrate the holiday or not. It's just a party. So what do you think of that idea? It would just be the newsies and my family. We'd have food and maybe a little gift for everyone. Nothing extravagant and everyone would get the same thing. And no hostess gifts either. I don't want to make anyone feel like they got less or more than anyone else nor do I want them to feel the need to me or my family a gift."

David nodded, digesting the information. Angela looked at him anxiously. "Well," David said, looking up at Angela, "I think this could be a really good thing," he said candidly. "You would have to very careful not to..." David sighed. "It's uncomfortable here. It's not you and it's Johnny. It's not anyone. You don't make people feel uncomfortable. Even the house stops being so intimidating after a while. It's the idea of just coming here wearing your dirty, worn clothes and just feeling out of place." David sort of shrugged. "I guess you wouldn't really know what that's like."

"What? Feeling out of place? You think I don't know what it's like to feel out of place?" Angela asked, carefully measuring her words. She sighed and looked down at her feet. "I feel out of place every single day. Do you think that all of this," Angela swept her hand through the air, "is normal to me? That I have always lived like this? Do you, David?" Angela stared at him. She wasn't angry, but her voice was urgent.

"It hasn't always been this way. My family comes from a modest background. I come from a modest background. I wasn't just born into this. Things weren't always this way. I have never been poor and I do not have the right to say that I know what it's like to be poor because I don't. But I do have the right to tell you that you cannot correctly judge me by my clothes or by the house I live in. I don't know everything but I know more than you think I do. People judge me by my outward appearance every day. And I don't like what they say about me. But there really isn't a thing I can do about it. I'd just like to think that there are some bigger people out there who can look past outward appearances."

"I'm sorry," David said, stunned by Angela's sudden outpouring.

"Don't be sorry. Just keep that in mind, all right? And tell everyone about Jack and ask them what they would think of a Christmas party, ok?" Angela said, sounding tired.

David nodded. "I will. Take care."

"Thank you," Angela said, waving goodbye as David walked down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk.

"Angela, what are you doing? Do you even know what time it is?" Johnny asked, coming up behind his sister. Angela shrugged. She was hunched over her desk, furiously scribbling notes on a piece of stationary.

"You're splattering ink," Johnny said flatly.

"I know."

"What are you doing? It's late."

"I know," Angela repeated, looking up from her desk. "I'm not going to be able to sleep if I don't exhaust myself. I just have too much on my mind."

"Fine. Whatever. But for the hundredth time, what are you doing?!"

"Well, this," Angela pointed to a cardboard box sitting near her feet, "is a gift for Danny and Ryan in Boston."

Johnny knelt and peered into the box. "A wreath-hey, that's a really nice wreath!"

"I had it shipped in from Atlanta," Angela said absently.

"And you have some...Swiss cheese?"

"Well, I couldn't send them anything like sausage or something. I mean, Danny owns a butcher shop, they see enough of the stuff around there. So I figured some nice cheese..."

Johnny laughed. "You always give people food for gifts."

"No, I don-" Angela paused briefly, trying to recall the gifts she had given in the past. "All right, so I do give food a lot. Not always, but most of the time. Well, hey, it's a useful gift!"

"Yes, yes, it is," Johnny complied. "Now, what is this?"

"Well, this is a letter for Danny and Ryan and this," Angela shuffled her papers, "it a shopping list and this is a possible menu and then this is a sketch of how I want the house set up on Christmas eve."

"You made a..." Johnny sighed, "sketch. You actually bothered to sketch...ok, fine." Johnny shook his head.

"This is my project, just let me do it my way. Now, I think I'm going to go to bed."

Angela jogged up the stairs and swung the door to her father's study open. "Here," she said breathlessly, "could you sign this?" She held out a letter to her father.

Richard DeLanci looked up from a stack of papers and took the letter. He skimmed over the letter before placing it down on the desk and taking out a pen. But instead of then signing the letter, he opened the top drawer of his desk and produced a fresh sheet of paper and an envelope.

"I'd like you to send this as well," he said, the pen flying over the surface of the paper.

"You're writing your own letter?" Angela asked.

"Not exactly. Here," he handed Angela the note and envelope.

"Thank you! Bye!" Angela cried, running out of the room.

As she pounded back down the stairs, Angela paused to read her father's note. "Dear Danny and Ryan..." she muttered to herself. Angela read silently for several moments. One sentence in particular caught her eye. "Two round-trip tickets to New York in time to spend Christmas with us?!" Angela read aloud. Her eyes grew wide and she frantically fumbled to open the envelope her father had also given her. Reaching her fingertips inside, she pulled out two round-trip train tickets to New York City from Boston for the date of December twenty-third. She let out a squeal and ran down the stairs.

"Johnny, look at this," Angela said, shoving the letter and tickets in his face.

"Danny and Ryan are going to be spending Christmas with us?" Johnny said, reading the letter.

"Well, if they're not busy, yes."

Johnny snorted. "Why would they be busy? Who are they doing to spend Christmas with?"

"That's not a nice thing to say!"

"But it's true. They don't have any family."

"Then they can use these tickets and come spend it with us. Besides, if things..." Angela looked at her feet and sighed, "if Mom hadn't died, they would have been a part of our family."

Johnny smiled slightly. "Yeah, they would have. Well, it's better late than never."

"Yes, yes it is. Now," Angela said, taking the letter and tickets back from Johnny, "I'm going to go mail this then I need to do some Christmas shopping, pick up something at the print shop and then I need to stop by the Newsboys Lodging House. You wanna come?"

Johnny shook his head. "I can't. Dad's making me stay here and play bridge with Grandpa, Great Uncle Leo and Great Aunt Rose," he replied dryly.

Angela made a face. "Yeesh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

"Old people patrol?" Frankie ventured, coming up beside Johnny. Johnny nodded.

"Jon-na-than!" a shrill voice called from the living room.

"Excuse me," Johnny said, "I'm off to find a bridge partner."

"Well, Frankie, it looks like it's just you and me." Angela said.

"Here, what do you think of these?" Angela asked, taking the card off the print shop's counter top.

"'You are invited to attend a Christmas party hosted by the DeLanci's'," Frankie read aloud, "'December 24th, 7:00 pm. Dress is casual. Dinner and music will be provided. No hostess gifts please. Friends and family welcome' etcetera, etcetera, mmmhmm...looks good to me."

"In that case," Angela said, paying the printer, "help me put these cards into their envelopes then we'll drop them off at the Lodging House. I'm supposed to meet David there at four." Frankie slid the box of freshly printed invitations off the counter and they walked out the door.

"Hey David!" Angela called, walking toward her friend who was waiting outside the Lodging House.

"Hey!" David cried.

"We come bearing invitations," Frankie proclaimed, carrying the box inside the Lodging House. David led Frankie and Angela past the front desk and into the parlor area.

"We can-" David stopped short when he stepped into the parlor. There was an attractive girl with red-brown hair and big blue eyes sitting on the sofa.

"We can what?" Angela asked. "Oh," she said in surprise as she stepped into the parlor. "Hello there."

"Hi," the girl said softly.

"I'm Angela. This is David and that's Frankie."

"I'm Marianne."

Angela studied the girl's face. She had fine features: a straight nose, high check bones, big, deep set eyes, and a small mouth. Her small face was framed by hair that fell to her mid back. Angela watched the girl's mouth suddenly turn down at the corner and pout slightly. It was then that she noticed Frankie gazing at Marianne.

Angela cleared her throat. "SO, David, what were you saying?" she shot him a desperate look.

David looked at her confused but spoke anyway. "We can sit down and sort out the invitations."

"All right, sounds good," Angela said, sitting down in a chair. She took the box from Frankie and set it at her feet. Angela handed a stack of invitations to David who quickly counted them.

"They're all here. How do you want to give them out?"

"Could we put one on each newsie's bunk?"

David nodded. "Yeah, sure." He placed the invitations back inside the box and picked it up. David started towards the stairs but then slowly turned back to the sofa, where Frankie was trying to make conversation with Marianne.

"Just leave him," Angela said quietly. "He's been drooling over her for days now."

"I thought Marianne was Blink's girl," David said under his breath as he climbed up the stairs.

"She is. But Frankie..." Angela sighed. "Well, they're just talking, what harm could it do?"