Chapter Twenty-Three
Jesse
On the following Saturday, Jesse was waiting for Arthur in front of the Administration Building at the World’s Fair.
Giuseppe stood next to him, wearing a scowl as he scrutinized the large white structure that loomed over them.
To their right, musicians played the song “After the Ball” from the bandstand on loop, its catchy tune enlivening folks as they passed and putting a spring in their steps.
Giuseppe set his hands on his hips before turning to face Jesse.
“It’s so needlessly showy, isn’t it?” he said.
Jesse looked up at the Administration Building. “Not really.”
“Not this specific building. I mean everything here.”
“Yeah, a little,” Jesse replied with a shrug.
“People died for this, you know.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “I know. Because you told me already. Fifty times.”
“Clearly it’s not sinking in.”
“Why? Because I keep coming back?” Jesse asked, and Giuseppe made an “of course” kind of face. “It’s fun. You’ll see. Some of the things they have here really are interesting.”
“Well, if it’s a terrible experience, I’ll never forgive you for bringing me. I swear I won’t ever help you with that fucking furnace again.”
Jesse cocked an eyebrow. “How’s that different from now?”
Giuseppe shoved him half-heartedly. “Shut it.”
Arthur’s booming voice broke through the crowd and interrupted their teasing.
“Mr. O’Connor!” he called out, holding one of his hands high as he waded through the sea of people.
Jesse pursed his lips slightly to try to temper his smile. “Mr. O’Connor” had turned into a term of endearment, really, one that was equally as romantic as sweetheart or love or every other thing that Jesse had heard people use.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes,” Jesse said when Arthur reached him.
Arthur set his hand on Jesse’s shoulder and squeezed. “You look well. Almost like you’ve been spending some nights sleeping on one of those new spring mattresses or something.” He took a pause to wiggle his eyebrows in a playful manner. “I have one of those, you know.”
Jesse let out a puff of air. “You’re ridiculous.”
Arthur left his hand on Jesse’s shoulder for a few seconds longer and then removed it. He turned to Giuseppe instead, who was simply smirking at them.
“Mr. Caputo,” Arthur said. “Glad you could make it.”
“Yes, well, Jesse will have to clean out the furnace from here on out if this is as terrible of an experience as I fear.”
Arthur tilted his head. “How’s that different from now?”
Jesse snorted a laugh, and Giuseppe scoffed lightly.
Immediately thereafter, Charlotte, Emma, Patrick, Emma’s friend Lizzie, and Lizzie’s tutor Miss Hawthorne showed up. Since Giuseppe had never met most of them, Arthur made the introductions, which Jesse thought went pleasantly enough. Until Giuseppe reopened his mouth.
“All of this, it’s so expensive. Needlessly expensive. It’s shameful to pay fifty cents to see a bunch of buildings, nice as they may seem from the outside.”
Jesse clenched his teeth, though he really wanted to scold Giuseppe for behaving like such a brat. Patrick, though, came to Arthur’s defense straightaway.
“What’s wrong with you that you can’t see a kind thing even when it’s staring you in the face? Mr. Hughes wasn’t obligated to invite us. He could’ve kept this family only. You should feel lucky that you can enjoy the fair without paying a penny for it. I know I do.”
Giuseppe wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to push back, but Patrick continued on with the verbal lashing before he could.
“Also, I’ll have you know that Mr. Hughes pays me well, and I enjoy working for him.
I know what it’s like to work for families who think their servants are less important than a piece of furniture, calling them by names they choose for them—names that are easier to remember, or that they think sound more respectable—rather than their real ones.
Mr. Hughes is a kind man. He treats every one of his servants well. Show him some respect, will you?”
Giuseppe stared wordlessly for a few moments, his mouth agape, before finally heaving a sigh and mumbling a soft “fine.” Jesse was simultaneously overcome with a feeling of relief that someone else had put Giuseppe in his place instead of him having to and secondhand embarrassment for his roommate over his bratty behavior.
Shifting uncomfortably, Jesse turned to face Arthur, hoping to find some guidance on how they ought to move on.
After a tense moment of silence, Arthur rubbed his hands together a few times and said, “Let’s try the—the train, shall we?
The Columbian Intramural Railway? It can take us to the Midway Plaisance, if we want, and the ride itself is only ten cents per person.
Should be an experience in itself.” Rocking back on his heels, he paused and worried at his bottom lip.
“Or . . . if no one objects to me spending a bit more money, we could stop at the French bakery here first. Every thirty cents we spend there should yield us a free train ticket, provided that everyone has their circulars from the entry booth. I believe they have, ehm, sandwiches, maybe, or cakes. Coffee, too. Thoughts?”
Charlotte said, “Sounds lovely, Arthur.”
“Yes, very generous of you, Mr. Hughes,” Patrick added.
Slowly, everyone’s eyes shifted to Giuseppe, who sighed and said, “Yes, yes, the bakery and the train both sound lovely.”
Arthur inhaled a fast breath, and a smile split his face. “Alright, then. Bakery, it is!”
Immediately, Arthur started walking, leading everyone past Machinery Hall toward the bakery. Jesse stayed back with his roommate. After a few feet, he bumped Giuseppe with his shoulder.
“Are you finished being surly now?” he asked.
“It looks like I have to be.”
“I thought you were fine with me and Arthur being together.”
“Yeah, I am. Mostly.” Giuseppe reached up to rub the back of his neck while they walked. “Look, Jess, I’m still worried sometimes, but I’ll try not to be if that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“It’s not only that, though. I’m still a little . . . upset with him for the whole steel mill thing, too.”
Confused, Jesse shook his head. “Why?”
“Because they’re sending people home more and more in my current mill now. Permanently. Just like they are everywhere else.”
“And you think you’d have been better off at your old mill somehow?”
“Probably not, but I wish he’d have put as much effort into keeping it open as he seems to have put into planning a trip to this ridiculously ostentatious fair.
Maybe that mill would have weathered everything better.
I’m worried I’ll be out of work soon. Meanwhile, your beau is spending money without hesitation on treats and train rides. ”
“He’s trying to be nice.”
“I know.” Giuseppe cringed. “Sorry.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. But try to be a little nicer. It wouldn’t kill you.”
“It might.”
“No, I might.” Jesse nodded ahead toward the rest of their group. “Or Patrick might.”
“Yeah, he seems like a bold one. Jeez, he was ready to take my head off back there.”
“Well, be nice to him, too. It’s a small miracle that Arthur’s staff is so accepting of us, Patrick included. I’d rather not have Patrick leave to work for some other family because of you.”
“Oh, he’s not leaving anytime soon. Didn’t you hear him say that Mr. Hughes pays well?” Giuseppe said in a mocking tone.
“Jealous?” Jesse asked, crooking an eyebrow.
Giuseppe’s hand flew to his heart as though he was offended by the suggestion.
“No!” he said emphatically.
Jesse smirked in response. Giuseppe was jealous, wasn’t he? Though he’d never admit it.
“Uh-huh,” Jesse said. “I believe you.”
Giuseppe shoved Jesse ahead. “Go spend time with your sweetheart.”
Jesse snorted a laugh. Oh yes, Giuseppe was very jealous. Rather than continuing to tease his friend, especially since he needed Giuseppe to behave, Jesse took the opportunity to hurry ahead to meet up with Arthur as Giuseppe had so kindly suggested.
When Jesse reached Arthur a few feet from the bakery’s entrance, he was surprised to see that Arthur looked a bit forlorn, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. Jesse reached for Arthur’s hand, brushing their fingers together for the briefest moment before pulling back.
“Can we talk?” Jesse asked.
Arthur frowned but nodded. He stopped walking and turned to Charlotte.
“Would you mind making sure everyone orders something? I need to speak with Jesse for a minute. I’ll come inside to pay when we’re finished.”
Charlotte nodded once and continued inside. Everyone else followed, except for Emma.
“So, I can order whatever I want?” she asked.
Arthur smiled. “Whatever you want.”
“Even if it’s cake?”
“Even if it’s cake.”
“But it’s only ten in the morning.”
Arthur shrugged playfully, raising both his shoulders and his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, and a smile split Emma’s face. She hurried inside to order.
Once they were alone, Jesse said, “I’m sorry about Giuseppe.”
Arthur shrugged again, though now, he looked crestfallen instead. Upset churned in Jesse’s stomach. He hated seeing Arthur like this. But what else was there for him to say?
Jesse was still trying to think of something when Arthur swept his foot back and forth on the walkway and said, “Do you feel the same way as him? Does my paying for these things—the fair’s entrance fees, the food, the little extras like the train—bother you?”
Jesse’s immediate instinct was to reassure him, but before he opened his mouth to reply, he took a moment to really consider his response.
Yes, Arthur was spending a lot of money (or, well, what Jesse thought of as a lot of money), but Jesse knew it wasn’t so that he could shove his wealth in people’s faces.
Arthur only wanted everyone to have a nice time.
To Arthur, the fair was a magical place, and he simply wanted to share that magic with the people closest to him.