Chapter Text
Stomp tap, stomp tap, stomp tap,
The sound of Crutchie making his way down the street echoed in his ears. Little made its way into his mind as he fought to get home. He wasn't even thinking about anything, except for how much he wanted a nap. Sure, crunching numbers wasn't nearly as physically taxing as selling papers (not to mention far more lucrative) but the mental taxation, even for a numbers wiz like Crutchie, took a toll, and he found that by the end of his shift his eyelids were heavy and his brain was fuzzy. This was part of his regular, albeit new, routine, so he was a little taken aback when his routine was interrupted by the sounds of an argument as he walked by the same old Italian restaurant.
“Come on doll, lemmie keep ya company.” A slurred, possibly drunk voice caught Crutchie’s attention.
“I don't want company thank you.” A sweet and slightly nasal voice answered the drunkard.
“Come on girlie ya can't sit here in a restaurant by yourself and expect ta not get talked to.”
“Please leave me alone!” The girl responded.
Crutchie turned to look at the scene. He couldn't see the girl, but what he did see, just through the door of the restaurant, was the back of an imposing man, his thick arms on either side of the girl, effectively blocking her from Crutchie’s view, and pinning the girl in her booth.
“Isn't anyone gonna do somethin’?” He looked around only to see unphased passersby, or unaware diners, that's when he caught sight of himself in the window of the restaurant. He looked at himself, he wasn't the urchin he used to be, he looked like a real gentleman in his new clothes. He could do something.
“I can do somethin’.” He said to himself before giving his waistcoat a little tug and grasping his crutch. He quickly stomp-tapped his way into the restaurant and then seamlessly slid into the booth across from the unfolding scene.
“Sorry I'm late darling, I got held up at work.” He said in his best uptown accent.
The large man turned to look at Crutchie who did his best to look stern. The man scrubbed his hands over his red face.
“Hey guy,I-I didn't know she was watin’ on no one but I swear if I knew she was spoken for I wouldn't've been so forward n’all.”
“You shouldn't have been that forward in the first place.” Crutchie over-enunciated his words and sent the man a menacing stare. The drunkard stumbled away, leaving Crutchie alone with his damsel.
“Sorry ta intrude, I c’n go now if ya want.” Crutchie began to get up but was stopped.
“No please sit. I gotta buy dinner for my hero.” The girl looked at Crutchie and for the first time he got a clear view of her face. Her impish features were punctuated by sweet freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose and her sun-kissed face was surrounded by the most beautiful curling black hair, most of which was pulled into a complicated style at the back of her head. But the most distracting thing about her were her eyes. They were as wide as saucers, big and sparkling brown, surrounded by thick dark lashes.
“Woah.”
“What?” The girl replied.
“Oh nothin, nothin sorry.” He shook his head slightly and then made to get up again.
“Please stay.” The girl pleaded again. “What if he comes back?” She said. Damn. She got him with that one. He sat back down.
“Okay. I’ll stay but I ain't gonna let you buy me dinner.” He replied as nicely as he could. To that she responded simply with a smirk and a raise of the eyebrow.
“My name’s Rosalinda.” The girl said, a slight twangy accent evident in her speech, and held out her hand to Crutchie.
“Well hello there Rosie.” Crutchie gave her delicate hand a little squeeze. She smiled at the new nickname and an irresistible blush bloomed in her cheeks as she retracted her hand.
“...and what’s your name?” She asked as she tucked a curl behind her ear and fluttered those dark lashes.
“Friends call me Crutchie.” He offered, but was taken aback by the resulting frown that curved her plump lips. “What?” He frowned as well.
“Do they call you that on a count of your...well...circumstance?” She said gingerly as she gestured vaguely to Crutchie’s crutch.
“Uh, yeah... they do.” Crutchie shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, beg pardon if it in’t my place...but dun’t that seem just a little unfair?” She blinked at him with her brows furrowed.
“I don't mind it, it's nice when they say it.” He nodded reassuringly. “But…” he trailed off.
“Charlie. My name is Charlie.” He said holding out his hand anew as if introducing himself again. Rosie smiled and then shook his hand.
“It's very nice to meet you Charlie.” She smiled, her twangy accent apparent again.
“Say, Rosie?” Crutchie inquired.
“Yeah...Charlie?” She giggled slightly as she said his name, his real name, and it made Crutchie blush himself.
“Where’re ya from? Ya sure ain't from New York.” He chuckled and she blushed now too.
“Well, just a little town in New Mexico called Santa Fe.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes again.
“Nahuh!” To say that Crutchie was completely flabbergasted was an understatement.
“What?” She inquired, her big brown eyes prodding him to tell her more.
“Ah nothin’ just me an’ my buddy used ta dream of runnin’ away to Santa Fe when times was tough.” Crutchie explained.
“I miss it dearly.” Rosie replied as she dreamily looked out the window.
“What's it like?” Crutchie put his elbows on the table and leaned in, ready for whatever she would tell him.
Rosie wove tale after tale of Santa Fe, answering all of Crutchie’s questions as they came, not minding his excited interruptions. She answered questions like, are there really clay buildings, does everyone have a horse and a lasso, are the mountains really taller than the buildings in manhattan, and are there really tumbleweeds, the answers to which were yes, no, yes, and sometimes, respectively. Rosie was absolutely radiant and starry eyed as she talked about her hometown and Crutchie wondered why she would leave if it was as amazing as she made it sound.
“So what brought ya to New York?” Crutchie asked the seemingly innocent question and then immediately regretted it when Rosie’s smile fell and she seemed to shut herself off, crossing her pink silk clad arms.
“What’d I say? I'm sorry ya don't hafta answer that it was just me bein’ nosy.” He shook his head rapidly from side to side as if refusing his own question.
“No,” She cut him off in his rambling “I can tell you why, I think…” her smile returned then, ever so slightly.
“I don't know why...I just met you, but I think I can trust you.” She cocked her head slightly, as if examining him more closely. A blush crept into Crutchie’s face as she looked at him.
“My daddy thought that people’d be kinder to me here. More acceptin’.” There was a beat of silence before she continued. “People’n Santa Fe don't really like my kind.”
At this Crutchie was completely puzzled. Her kind? What kind was that? She sensed his confusion and then began to explain.
“My daddy, he's from here, and my mama...well, her daddy was from Taos...and he was a Pueblo Indian, and her mama, well she was from somewhere else. I'm all mixed up. That's why.” Rosie looked self consciously to her hands neatly folded on the table in front of her with a frown. The air was silent for a moment before Crutchie reacted.
“That's the neatest thing I ever heard!” Crutchie exclaimed, truly fascinated.
“I ain't never met no Indian before! Who’da thunk I could meet one without ever leavin’ manhattan!” At this she smirked slightly and rose one eyebrow, trying to figure out if his exuberance was genuine or if he was simply trying to make her feel better. She was so distracted by his rambling that she hardly noticed as he reached across the table and placed his hand on hers rather as if he'd been doing it for years. She gasped and startled slightly at the contact and Crutchie looked as if he had been burned as he retracted his hand quickly.
“Oh no I'm sorry Rosie I just got carried away-” but before he could finish his sentence she snached his hand back from him and held it tight.
“I like you holding my hand Charlie...I like you.” She stressed the last word and Crutchie was blushing again.
“It's funny really...there’re people I've known for years who I haven't connected with the way I've connected with you...in just the past couple hours. It's workin’ on my curfew though, would you wanna meet up tomorrow?” She smiled at him fondly.
“Yes.” He said all too quickly and Rosie let out the most musical laugh that Crutchie had ever heard. Rosie placed a handful of bills on the table to pay for their dinner and before Crutchie could say anything the waiter had come by, scooped up the bills, and thanked Rosie.
“I had to thank you somehow!” She defended her actions.
“Nah you really didn’t but thats okay. I’ll just pay next time!” Crutchie grinned at the blush that formed in Rosie’s cheeks again as they stood and left the restaurant. She was very much indeed living up to her nickname. The soft pink silk of her dress glimmered in the dim light of the evening and her lips, red as a rose, complimented her bright pink sun-kissed cheeks. She was Rosie, in every sense of the word.
“You don’t have to walk me home…” She trailed off, realizing this might be a sensitive topic after she had already begun to say it.
“Of course I do! I’d never expect a lady to walk herself home alone! At night! In the Dark!” He added the last two exclamations on after the fact, trying to further his argument. He really was not offended that she didn’t want him to walk, he was offended by the fact that she thought he’d actually let her walk home alone.
“I’m walkin’ you home and that is that.” He nodded seriously to her, affirming his statement.
“Alright! I’m not gonna argue with you!” Rosie tossed her hands up in the air, indicating what she said.
------------------
They had spent most of the walk planning where and when they would meet up the next day and had made fully solidified plans by the time they had arrived at Rosie’s house. Her apartment building was in the same neighborhood as Katherine’s, nice but not fancy. It was then that Crutchie realized that he hadn’t gotten to hold her hand on the walk. His heart sank and he knew he wouldn’t have forgotten something so important if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with walking at an okay pace. It didn’t seem to bother Rosie, however, because when they stopped in front of her apartment building she took his hand in hers and held it for just a moment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She blushed again and before Crutchie could really process what was happening Rosie had thrown an arm around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug and found himself wishing that this moment never had to end.
“Goodnight Charlie” she whispered in his ear before leaving a sweet, all too brief kiss on his cheek and walking to the door of her building.
“Goodnight Rosie.”