Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“Ah, yes, that’s right.” Arthur clapped his hands together a few times to “clean” them and stood. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked out of the room and returned not two minutes later with the article, which he then handed to Claire. Claire smiled from ear-to-ear as she read it.
“Oh my, this is wonderful!” she exclaimed. “She really is a fantastic writer.” Claire’s eyes continued to move over the page. “Everyone should read this!”
Arthur let out a happy laugh and patted Jesse’s knee.
“Did you hear that, Jesse? Fantastic writer!”
Jesse took Arthur’s hand and kissed it. It was so wonderful to see Arthur this happy.
Whether Arthur had managed to internalize it or not, he was making the right choice.
Emma’s talent for writing would only blossom more over time.
Most importantly, Emma would be thrilled to be able to write for a newspaper someday.
Everyone really should have the chance to read her writing.
Jesse’s eyes widened as an idea popped into his head. He turned to Arthur.
“Arthur, what would happen if other people read Emma’s article?” he asked. “Other people in your circle, I mean.”
Arthur let out a puff of air. “I’d probably be ostracized. If they knew what it meant with regard to her future, that is.”
Jesse tipped his head toward Arthur and raised both his eyebrows, hoping that it might make his point for him. Arthur’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a fast breath.
“God in heaven, that’s perfect,” he said. “That’s perfect and you’re perfect and I love you.”
Charlotte laughed from her chair. “Care to tell us what this is about?”
“Jesse has come up with the most spectacular idea. I can prove my sincerity to Emma, completely obliterate my relationship with my parents, and burn every single bridge I have with every other family from our stuffy little neighborhood in one fell swoop.”
Claire squeaked excitedly, and Charlotte shook her head in chastisement.
“What?” Claire asked, reeling back and placing a hand over her heart. “It sounds fun.”
Charlotte chuckled. “You’re terrible.”
“Isn’t that one of the reasons why you love me?” Claire asked.
Smiling madly, Charlotte took Claire’s hand.
“Yes, one of the many reasons,” she said.
Arthur waved his hands back and forth. “You can be lovey later. Right now, we’re supposed to be talking about Jesse’s wonderful, terrible idea.”
“Which is what?” Giuseppe asked from the floor.
Arthur twisted around to look at the wall clock.
“Good. It’s only ten. There’s still plenty of time.” He stood up suddenly. “Giuseppe, find your beau and tell him that he needs to take us over to Putnam Press.”
“All of us?” Charlotte asked.
“All of us,” Arthur confirmed.
“Oh, this is so exciting!” Claire said, releasing Charlotte’s hand so she could clap.
Sighing, Giuseppe hobbled to his feet. “Am I really expected to come too?”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t excited about spending time with Patrick. Really, Giuseppe, the two of you couldn’t be more obvious.”
Scowling, Giuseppe walked off to fetch Patrick, his cheeks rosy red. Moments later, Giuseppe returned with Patrick by his side, the two of them holding hands.
“Are you happy now?” Giuseppe asked Arthur, holding up their linked hands.
“Very,” Arthur said, which made every single person except Giuseppe laugh (though Jesse could tell that he was fighting back a smile, too). Arthur began to rub his hands together excitedly. “Now, who’s ready to learn how to work a Gordon Jobber?”
***
Jesse was finishing up recreating the forme for Emma’s World’s Fair article when Giuseppe sat next to him and picked up one of the nearby type letters.
“Do you think I could ever learn how to do this?” he asked.
“Probably.” Jesse pushed the wooden composing stick over to him. “Give it a try.”
Giuseppe frowned at the stick and hummed like he was thinking it over.
“Alright, but if I make a mistake and you laugh—”
Jesse lifted up his hands and chuckled. “I won’t. I swear.”
Patrick piped up from behind them. “I will.”
Giuseppe picked up a random letter and threw it at him. Patrick raised his hands to block it. It bounced off one of his forearms and landed on the floor with a tiny clatter. Jesse rolled his eyes.
“Enough silliness,” Arthur said from next to the nearby Jobber. “I want to finish printing these before Emma starts wondering where everyone went.”
Giuseppe began trying to compose a line of type, copying the sentence over from the sheet of paper they’d brought with them.
He wasn’t fast, but he wasn’t making any mistakes, either.
Jesse couldn’t help but smile a little, a swell of pride inflating his chest. He’d always known that his roommate could thrive in a print shop.
Giuseppe liked the steel mill fine, but it was because he liked working hard.
He liked challenging himself and keeping busy.
Of course, the short travel time to work had been a bonus as well.
But Jesse had noticed that the long hours and strenuous conditions had been wearing on his friend lately, and watching Giuseppe compose the lines of type now was making him consider whether his friend might like to work at Putnam Press.
Had Arthur not been the owner, that might not have been possible, given the fact that Giuseppe had stopped going to school at fourteen.
Everyone else in the shop had finished high school.
Mr. Putnam had seemed nice enough from afar, but Jesse couldn’t imagine that the man would have wanted to hire someone like Giuseppe.
Mr. Stevenson wouldn’t have wanted to either.
But there was no way that Arthur wouldn’t be amenable to it.
Not that Jesse could propose such a thing to Giuseppe in such a straightforward manner.
Giuseppe was stubborn. He’d have to come up with the idea himself for him to really consider it.
But there was no reason that Jesse shouldn’t plant the seed in his mind.
Perhaps he could solicit Patrick’s help with making it take root.
Jesse motioned for Patrick to come closer.
“Do you want to sit? I need to stretch,” he said.
Patrick smiled and nodded. “I would. Thank you.”
After Jesse and Patrick traded positions, Jesse nodded toward Giuseppe, who was now nearly finished with a second line.
“Not bad for a beginner,” he said.
Patrick’s smile widened. “Yeah, he’s a smart one. Surprisingly.”
Giuseppe swept his foot sideways under the table, knocking Patrick’s. Patrick laughed and scooted closer. He placed a hand atop Giuseppe’s thigh, causing Giuseppe to flush.
Jesse startled from the sudden sound of Arthur’s voice in his ear.
“Gosh, they’re sweet together. Aren’t they?” he whispered.
Turning, Jesse looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, they are.”
“Not as sweet as us, though,” Arthur said, extending his hand and brushing their fingers together.
Jesse caught Arthur’s fingers and squeezed them. “Never.”
Giuseppe pretended to retch. “Gross,” he said, spinning around to face them. “I’m finished with the lines, by the way. Easy enough.”
“Hm. Seems like you have a bit of a talent for it,” Jesse said.
“Oh, I’m talented at many things,” Giuseppe replied.
“Yes, he is,” Patrick said with a wink.
Giuseppe threw him a look of obviously fake irritation. He wasn’t very convincing.
Over the next few minutes, Jesse finished up the forme.
Once it was ready, he started up the Gordon Jobber, taking his time to explain how it worked with the hope that Giuseppe might be interested.
Sure enough, after Jesse printed two copies of the article, Giuseppe asked if he could take over.
When Jesse stepped back from the press, he had to purse his lips to contain his smile, lest Giuseppe realize that he was nudging him toward working in the print shop someday.
Leaving Giuseppe to finish printing the rest, Jesse walked over to the window where Charlotte and Claire were chatting. He leaned against the frame and sighed, happy for the break. Jesse had only closed his eyes for a moment when Arthur called out to Charlotte from the other end of the shop.
“Charlotte, could you help me with the addresses? I want to send these out as soon as possible!”
“Why the hurry?” Charlotte called back.
“Because I’m me!”
Charlotte chuckled and looked over at Claire.
“As ridiculous as that is, it’s the perfect explanation, isn’t it?” she said before starting over.
“Have fun, sweetheart!” Claire exclaimed, now laughing too. She looked over at Jesse. “I hope you’re prepared to try to temper Arthur’s impulsiveness for the rest of your life.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Good. Because poor Charlotte needs a break.”
Huffing a laugh, Jesse turned his head to see his beau talking to Charlotte very excitedly, his puppy-like energy and playful exuberance still a sight to behold. Gentle fondness unfurled in his chest, its warmth making him smile as it spread over every other inch of his body.
Claire leaned in close and said, “I can see how much you love him.”
Jesse’s eyes fell to the floor, his cheeks turning hot, but he continued to smile.
“He loves you too,” she added.
“I know,” Jesse said. “Sometimes I can barely believe it. But I know.”
After the wave of embarrassment passed, Jesse managed to look up again, and the two watched Arthur and Charlotte for a while.
“He’d be nice to work for, wouldn’t he?” Claire said, fiddling with her necklace. “I really do want to, especially since it would mean living with Charlotte. But I’m worried that my parents won’t like it. I know they want me to find someone to marry.”
“I know what that’s like,” Jesse said, scrunching up his nose. “Are you afraid that they’ll keep harping on you?”
“Exactly,” Claire said. “Even if I were to work for Arthur, I know they’d keep trying to find someone for me.
I’d have to tell them about my . . . misgivings with marriage eventually.
Not that I take issue with the concept of marriage, of course, since I’d marry Charlotte in a heartbeat if I could, but .
. . well, you know.” She continued to play with her necklace, moving the pendant left and right on its chain.
“I know there’s no need to tell them everything.
But part of me . . . wants to. Not only so that they won’t busy themselves with trying to find someone for me, but so that they . . . know me. Is that foolish?”
Jesse ran a hand through his hair. It was foolish, wasn’t it?
It was foolish because of how relationships like Charlotte and Claire’s were viewed by most people in the world.
Or at least by people in Chicago. But once upon a time, Jesse had told his parents about Percy.
And even though it had been painful, it had been liberating, too.
It had meant losing them from his life. But it had meant finding Giuseppe.
And Arthur. And everyone else here in this print shop, too.
He couldn’t say whether Claire being honest about her romantic and sexual inclinations would be the right choice for her.
But it had been the right choice for him in the end. And he wanted Claire to know that.
“It is foolish,” Jesse replied. “But I wouldn’t fault you for it.
No one here would. And only you can say whether or not you think it would be the right choice for you.
It was important to me that my parents know.
Because I’d spent my whole life feeling like they’d been rejecting me for who I was in other ways, so, well, it was cathartic for me, though obviously still heartbreaking as well, to confess to them and then have them confirm that they’d reject me for who I bedded too.
But, Claire, if you do end up telling them, I’d recommend letting Charlotte and Arthur know first. Because Arthur would protect you if you needed him to.
I mean, the man loves Charlotte as much as a person can love someone platonically.
And he loves how happy you make her, as well.
He’d move every one of us out of the state together rather than risk anything happening to you. ”
Claire smiled warmly. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Finished!” Giuseppe cried out triumphantly.
Claire shimmied her shoulders back and forth. “Oh, this is thrilling!”
Jesse snorted. “No wonder Charlotte needs a break. You’re as excitable as Arthur.”
Claire smacked his arm with the back of her hand but then laughed.
Everyone worked together to prepare the bundles of paperwork to mail. After they were finished, they all left for the carriage, which Patrick had parked nearby. On the way, Giuseppe took Jesse by the sleeve to catch his attention.
“I’m practically a professional pressman now, aren’t I?” he boasted. “Do you think that I could work for Putnam or Hughes someday?”
Jesse pretended to sigh. “I’m not sure if the owner would hire you. I hear he’s very picky.”
“He can’t be that picky,” Giuseppe retorted. “He is with you, after all.”
Giuseppe cackled at his own silly humor, and Jesse rolled his eyes.
“I can ask him. If you’d want,” Jesse offered.
“Thanks. I think I’d like it.”
Jesse smiled warmly. “I think so, too.”