"I wish they'd hurry up and get here," I said, setting aside Little Women. No use trying to read before Cody McGowan and Noah Kingston arrived. The nervous excitement that pervaded the Harlem lodging house kept me from concentrating on the book even though it was one I had read several times before. Ruby had decided the Christmas party at Medda's theatre, Irving Hall, would be the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker for us. And so we waited.
Imp stopped peering out of the window for a moment. "I'm changin' clothes." She started to dash out of the room, blue skirts tangling around her legs, but Ruby grabbed her wrist.
"Oh, no, you don't," she said, pushing her into the nearest chair. "You look just fine."
Imp tugged at the skirt, wailing, "It's a dress! Can't I wear something else?"
Ruby smiled patiently. "You look fine." Turning, she asked, "What do you think, Verity?"
Head tilted, I studied her appearance. The simple dress, one Digit Larson left behind made over, complimented her green eyes and brown hair, which Ruby had insisted on curling with rag curlers. "She looks fine," I said, attempting to act solemn, "except for one thing."
"What's that?"
"The pout on her face."
Imp stuck out her tongue, one of the habits that contributed to her nickname. I started to say something about her face freezing like that if she wasn't careful when a loud knock on the door interrupted me. Neither of us had time to react before Ruby was at the door, greeting whoever stood on the stoop. From the tone of her voice I could guess who it was.
"They're in here," she said, ushering them into the front room.
"Evenin', ladies," Cody drawled, removing his cap and not taking his eyes off of Imp, who flushed and look at her hands.
Noah stammered a hello, all the while gazing at a spot on the floor between us. If he kept this up, it was going to be a long night for both of us.
"Fingers, Hammer's here," Ruby called up the stairs. The third member of the triumvirate leaned against the wall, relaxed, almost as if he lived here, an attitude all of the East Harlem newsboys had.
"Give me a minute, will ya?"
Ruby muttered, "That girl's never been in a good mood a day in her life," as she rejoined us.
A few minutes later, after we were all beginning to relax, someone thumped down the stairs, jumping the last two.
"Ready?" Fingers asked. She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder.
Nobody said a word except for Hammer; the rest of us were too busy staring to speak. Fingers wore skirts a lot, but they looked odd on her because she never took the time to look very ladylike. Tonight, however, she had taken a few extra minutes getting ready and it showed.
"You look nice," he said, smiling at her.
"You're wearing a... dress." That came from Imp.
"So are you," she retorted. "So are we goin' or what?"
"Once Charlie gets here, we are." Charlie, who works for a livery down in Midtown, had volunteered to take us around when we went caroling. My brother Andrew probably had something to do with it since they're good friends.
When we were finally ready to leave, I hung back a little, not wanting the others to pay attention to what I was doing. Noah stood near the door, looking unsure of himself. I smiled and put on my coat, slipping a small maroon book into my pocket. (Little Women was too large to fit, so I had to choose something else.) Noticing, he looked up at me for the first time since walking in the lodging house.
"Just in case we get tired of talking," I whispered.
He smiled timidly and whispered back. "I brought my sketch book."
"We'd better not tell Ruby. She'll have a fit if she finds out."
The nice thing about caroling with a large group is you don't have to talk very much if you don't want to; there are plenty of others willing to do all the talking. Safety in numbers. Plus, you're doing something instead of just sitting around looking at nothing in particular.
Noah and I smiled and laughed at everyone's jokes, and I even joined in on the bantering occasionally. With that and the singing, I don't believe anyone realized we actually said very little to each other. It's not that we were ignoring one another; it's just tongue tying to know a dozen or so girls are watching you out of the corners of their eyes.
When we finally reached Medda's theatre, after entertaining Gotham with our melodious renditions of Christmas carols, it was a blessing. The temperature had been dropping all afternoon and the sky turned a deep grey, like the color of fox fur or an old, faded flannel blanket. And yet, no snow. Imp and I were still hoping for that one trick of the weather before morning—Christmas Day—arrived.
After we escaped the cold, Noah paused to polish his eyeglasses. I waited with him instead of rushing off to the ladies lounge to check on my clothes and hair like every other girl in the place. What's the point in squeezing into a small room with a hundred other girls just for a two-second glimpse in the mirror? Besides, in the crowd of newsies, we'd probably loose each other if we separated now.
After depositing our coats on a settee in the lobby, we searched for some of his friends. With all the unfamiliar faces wandering around I wasn't sure we'd find them all that quickly, but we did.
"Pull up a chair," Reese Robard said, scooting over to make room around the already full table.
Reese and Noah pointed out everyone to me, making sure I knew their names. I remembered most of the others from the poker game in Queens that Ruby had dragged me to a week or two ago, although she and I didn't play, but there were a few that I didn't know or recognize all dressed up.
The conversation settled back down and once again Noah and I were the quiet pair in the group. A comfortable, relaxed quiet since no one was inspecting our every move now. Amazing what a difference that makes.
"What book?" Noah asked after a few minutes of listening to Reese and Cabot Tate, another of his friends, banter.
"Hmm?"
He nervously licked his lips. "The book in your coat. What is it?"
I smiled. "Oh, Shakespeare. Much Ado About Nothing. It's one of my favorites."
He nodded. "I've always liked A Midsummer's Night Dream."
"Me, too!" I shifted in my chair towards him a little. "And Romeo and Juliet."
"That was a good play. Have you read any of his sonnets?"
I shook my head, tendrils of hair tickling the back of my neck as they brushed across. "Only a few. What bout you?"
"All of them. Even memorized a few." He smiled, a warm, friendly smile that made his eyes shine. "What else have you read lately?"
Thrilled to be talking about books with someone who appreciated them as much as I do, I completely forgot there were others at the table. During a pause in our discussion, we both realized everyone else had gotten up, either to dance or get refreshments. "I never even noticed they'd left," I said, laughing.
"Neither did I." He stared at his hands for a moment. "Would you, um, like to dance?"
"Yes."
The waltz started off awkwardly but as soon as we became accustomed to being that close, his hand on my waist, it began flowing. I felt like we were gliding across ice, it was so smooth. For some reason I wasn't surprised Noah could dance very well. The more I learned about him, the less he surprised me.
"You, uh..." He swallowed. "You look very pretty tonight. Like something out of a Waterhouse painting," he added.
Blushing, I thanked him. The dress always made me feel special, with its sleeves puffed above the elbow and its slender cut down to through the hips where it widened into a gored skirt that swirled when I moved. Wearing my hair up in something other than a knot at my nape made me feel even more elegant. Plus, I adored John William Waterhouse and the Pre-Raphaelites.
"You look nice, too." Which was true, he did. While the suit was well worn and the sleeves a trifle short for his long arms, it was obviously neatly cared for. Neither of us would garner a spot in the society pages for our clothing, but we didn't look shabby by any means.
After the waltz was over, Greaser claimed the next dance. Reese asked for the one after that, and Charlie, the one after that. When I finally returned to our table, Noah had his sketchbook out. He turned to a clean sheet as I sat down.
"What were you drawing?"
"Just some of the people dancing," he said, playing with his pencil.
"May I see it?"
He bit his lip. "Later?"
I nodded reluctantly, patience not being one of my better traits at times. I had heard that old proverb about curiosity and the cat more than my share when I was little. Then I noticed something on the table in front of me: my copy of Much Ado About Nothing. I threw my arms around his neck for a quick hug before starting to read.
Noah sat there for a minute, not moving, rather like a stunned rabbit. I suppose my impulsive hug had startled him. Maybe he had interpreted it in the wrong way. Then again, what was the wrong way? I pushed the thought from my mind and concentrated on Beatrice and Benedick's mutual disdain. Not much later he started another sketch, judging by the sound of pencil against paper.
I was in the middle of the second act when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Annoyed as I always am when somebody interrupts my reading, I turned around to discover Shiner Sanderson standing behind me. I smiled, hiding my impatience to get back to the orchard at Messina.
"May I have this dance?" he asked stiffly.
"Of course." I smiled again, this time a genuine one. I hadn't seen him all evening, and had wondered if he would even come.
The next song the musicians played was another waltz, "After the Ball." I've never really liked its lyrics. If he truly had loved the girl, he would have listened to her explanation and not blown the misunderstanding out of proportion. Just like a male to refuse to listen to reason.
Apparently Shiner's mood had an effect on the way we moved through the steps, mechanically. To break the tension I started to say something about being glad to see him when he cut me off.
"I don't like the way he's monopolizin' your time," he said bluntly.
"Monopolizing?" Where did he get an idea like that?
"All you've done is sit at that table with him." Shiner scowled, a gruesome effect when combined with the yellowish-purple remains of the latest black eye.
"I have not!" I had an idea where this conversation was headed and hoped I was wrong. "I've danced some."
He snorted.
"It's the truth. Just ask Greaser or Reese or Charlie!"
"Sure. What about the rest of the time?"
"What about it?" I asked, trying to control my voice. It was none of his business how I spent my time. "Either we've been discussing books we like or I've been reading and he's been drawing."
No reply. For some reason I felt the need for him to understand completely. "Look, I would've brought along something to read no matter who I came with."
We suffered through the rest of the song in stony silence. I didn't want to spend Christmas Eve arguing with one of my best friends. The song ended, I turned to sit again, and found myself being none to gently pulled into the lobby by my wrist.
"What do you think you're doing?" I rubbed my sore wrist, wondering what had gotten into him.
Shiner ignored my question. Instead, he said, "I don't want you to ever see him again."
Stunned, the only thing I could do was stare at him. My own brother had stopped dictating what I could and could not do years ago, even before we came to Harlem. I had no intention of changing that now.
"What do you think you are doing?" I repeated. Not exactly what I wanted to say, but it would have to do for now.
He blinked, as if he hadn't expected me to be stubborn. "I'm just trying to protect you."
"Protect me? Why in Sam Hill do you think you have to protect me? I'm not a damsel in distress."
"Hustler asked me to," he said, chin raised, defiant.
"Hustler asked you to." Sighing, I closed my eyes for a moment. That sounded just like my twin, Andrew. "He asked everyone to watch after me, if you recall."
"That's what I was doing."
"I was perfectly happy until you came along and ruined it!" It took a lot of self-control to keep from pacing, which I terribly wanted to do.
Shiner leaned against the balustrade of the balcony staircase and crossed his arms. "I don't trust him."
"What!?" Again, all I could do was stare. Where was he coming up with all this?
He repeated himself calmly: "I don't trust him."
"Caleb Sanderson, you haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?"
"I'm worried for you." Again, he was ignoring my question.
"Why? I can take care of myself. You know that."
He narrowed his eyes. "He's one of Ruby's friends."
Of all the things to say. "Oh, so now if Ruby knows someone outside of Harlem, they're automatically a bad person. Really!" I tossed my head.
"She and Luke—"
"Don't bring that back up." Luke Forlani, one of her former beaux, had enjoyed tormenting all us at the lodging house for a few weeks.
"But—he might be trying—"
"But nothing. I trust Ruby, and I trust Noah. In fact," I said, tilting my chin just as he had, "I do intend to see him again."
I half-expected him to drop to the floor, beating and kicking it like a child throwing a temper tantrum at not getting his own way. He stood there, looking as if I had slapped him. Angry as I was with him at the moment, I wish I had. After a minute of silence he pushed away from the banister, found his coat and gloves and walked to the door. There, he paused, door open.
"Goodbye, Verity."
"Good night, Caleb."
The doors shut behind him.
Now, I started pacing in front of the stairs, back and forth, back and forth. Where did things go wrong? We had talked after Noah had asked me to the party, and he said he had no problem with it, although we hadn't talked very much since then. I knew he had been upset over it, but that was a week ago. He had plenty of time to grow accustomed to the idea.
And then tonight. Me needing protection. Ha! That's the most absurd thing I've heard in a long time. While I'm by no means a fighter, I can take care of myself when necessary. Living around dozens of boys taught me that quickly.
My back must have been turned when Ruby slipped in. One turn of the floor she wasn't there, the next she was.
"Hey, Ver. I didn't wanna disturb ya. You looked... busy." She shrugged into her coat.
"Shiner and I just had a little disagreement." Well, maybe that was an understatement.
Ruby paused fixing her scarf over her fiery hair, understanding showing in her eyes. "Oh. About Noah?"
I nodded. "He doesn't want me to see him ever again."
She arched an eyebrow. "Whadja tell him?"
"To stop bossing me around." I shrugged, adding, "Probably not the best thing to say."
She laughed. "Didn't take it too well, did he."
"Not at all. Leaving already?"
"Well, you know..." She flushed, almost the same color as her hair, and busied herself with putting on her gloves.
"Not the same without Basitan?" I asked softly.
Ruby didn't say anything, just glanced away for a second. Then, brightly, "Well, I'd better not leave Charlie waitin'."
"Take care," I said, smiling.
"I will." After a quick hug, she left with Charlie, headed for who knows where, but probably to visit an old friend of hers in the Bronx.
Apparently the lobby was now the popular place to be in the theater, because not long after Ruby left a group decided to play blind man's bluff there. They invited me to join them but I opted to sit on the stairs, watch, and think for a little while longer before going back in to the party.
As I watched the game below me, the melody of "After the Ball" stuck in my head. Humming along, I tried to sort out all the thoughts tumbling over each other like acrobats in my mind. The more I attempted to make them nice, neat, and orderly, the more they tumbled together into one rambunctious mess until the words of the chorus cut through, silencing them all:
"After the ball is over;
After the break of morn.
After the dancers' leaving;
After the stars are gone;
Many a heart is aching,
If you could see them all;
Many the hopes that have vanished
After the ball!"
The lyrics summed up exactly what I felt, alone, without one of my best friends, heartbroken. But not heartbroken because I was in love with him. Why did things have to be so complicated? Imp and Ruby had teased me that I should come to the party with both of them, but we had agreed that would have been too tricky to pull off. I think it might have been easier, now. Maybe Shiner wouldn't have gotten so jealous.
Why did this have to happen to me? Ruby never has problems like this, at least to my knowledge. Lord knows she's had far more beaus than I ever have. I wouldn't trade my problems for hers, though.
Someone near me cleared his throat. "Um, hey, Verity."
I looked up, momentarily startled. Noah stood at the bottom of the stairs, peering at me through his glasses, worry in his eyes. I tried to smile, but it was more sad than anything else. "Hi, Noah. I haven't been good company tonight, have I?"
"You didn't come back," he said quietly. "I was worried."
"I'm sorry." Not knowing what else to do, I stared at the rosy folds of material between my fingers where I had pleated it. "Shiner and I came out here to finish our... conversation," I said, choosing words carefully. "After that I wasn't in much of a party mood."
"I see." His shoulders drooped. "If you'd rather leave with him," he trailed off.
"No! I mean, it's not like that."
"It's not?" Noah looked so hopeful I couldn't help but smile, a real one.
"No, it's not." Moving the fabric of my dress closer to my feet so he could sit next to me without stepping on it, I continued. "We had a disagreement and he left. That's all."
"Oh." A lock of hair fell in front of his face, which he seemed not to notice. After a pause, he said, "It was about me, wasn't it?"
"No... yes... well..." I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself to explain it calmly and simply. "He doesn't trust you. Because of Luke, because Ruby's known you a long time, and because you aren't from Manhattan. He thinks you might be trying to finish where Luke left off. Plus, he's jealous."
Noah turned his head to look at me, hair still in his face. "Do you believe him?"
"No. I trust her. And," I said, tucking the lock of hair, which had that silky-soft, recently washed feel, behind his ear, "I trust you."
Neither of us moved or said anything and Time paused, leaving us in the moment so we could savor it and carefully store it in our memories. The sounds of the party subdued as we sat on the plush red carpeted staircase, barely breathing, our eyes locked, searching for something. I must have found whatever it was I was looking for because I dropped my gaze to my lap, face warm, and Time resumed. The cacophony in the theatre was just as loud, maybe louder, than it had been before, but I could still clearly hear the pounding of my heart in my ears.
"Thank you," he said softly. He stood, the sudden motion startling me, and I looked up to see him holding an arm out. "Would you care to rejoin the party, my esteemed Lady V?"
I laughed at the use of my old nickname and stood as well, feeling like I stepped into the pages of Ivanhoe. Dropping a curtsey as best I could on the stairs, I replied, "My good Sir Noah, I'd be delighted."
Arm in arm we returned to the party.
