Jean sat on the couch, observing the warm living room. It had begun snowing gently outside and the fireplace let out a comforting warmth. Her brother, Walter, sat at the dining room table with her five cousins, Uncle James, and Aunt Sophia, teaching them a card game. Her Aunt Edith and Uncle Anthony sat over on the couch across from her, murmuring quietly between themselves. To her left, Aunt Ethel and Uncle Timothy were flipping through the pages of a worn book that had been on her mother and fathers bookshelf for many years.

Over on the other couch, her mother and father sat. Her father sat with his legs off the couch, reading the daily newspaper, and tapping out an unheard rhythm with one hand on the dark blue fabric that clothed her mother's legs. Jean's mother sat with her back leaning against the armrest and her legs resting on top of her father's legs. She scribbled something down on the notebook and tapped the end of her pencil on the paper. Her mother's eyes drifted up and met her father's gaze. She smiled at him and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Jean, as weird as it sounded, liked it when her parents gave each other quick kisses here and there. Her father always looked like he'd won a prize, and her mother always had a light blush on her freckled cheeks. It was beautiful. Jean had always wanted a relationship like her parents. That undying love that they had for each other. Jean longed to hear how her parents had met, yet had never asked, for she knew how shy her parents were with their past.

Thinking about the past brought up a thought, something Jean had intended to ask her parents about, yet had forgotten, and never asked. Jean stood up and walked out of the room, her parent's curious gaze on her. She walked quickly up the stairs and went into her bedroom.

Jean opened her closet, and on the top shelf, sat a box. Jean stood on her tiptoes and pulled it down. She set it on her bed, closed her closet, and scooped it back up. She shut her bedroom door behind her and walked down the stairs, checking to make sure she didn't trip. She walked back into the living room.

"Everything alright sweetheart?" Her father asked, looking at her.

Jean nodded. "A while ago, I was looking for some string, and I was looking in the hallway closet. I ended up finding the string, but I also found this box. I wasn't really sure what all this stuff was."

Her mother pulled her legs off of her father's and set the notebook and pencil down, listening to Jean speak.

"It has two newsboy hats, and also an old newspaper dated July 25, 1899. It has the headline 'Newsies Stop the World' Is this making any sense as to why you would have this?" Jean asked. Her little speech had drawn the attention of almost everyone else in the room.

Her mother stood up, brushing off the fabric of her skirt. "You found our old newsies stuff. I forgot we kept it."

She walked over to Jean and picked up one of the hats. On the tag, written neatly in ink, was C. Higgins.

"You were newsies?" Jean asked.

Her mother nodded. "I was the leader of Queens way back when I was a teenager. Your father was the 'King of Brooklyn'."

Her father let out a groan. "That was a bad nickname."

"Yet if I remember correctly, people feared the King of Brooklyn." The adults in the room were smiling. Her mother grinned at her husband and stuck out her tongue. Jean was appalled, her kind-hearted father? Being feared?

"Oh yes, and all I heard of you were about how you were way too nice to be a leader." Her father joked, standing up and walking over to her mother. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

Her Uncle Anthony stood up, and looked at the newspaper Jean was holding, and let out a laugh. "Oh my goodness. There's me, and your mother, and your father."

He ruffled Jean's hair and smiled, but Jean was looking at the picture in confusion. "That's you mother? You looked like a boy."

This made the adults in the room start laughing.

Her mother smiled at her. "It's good to know that it worked."

Jean nodded She smiled at her mother and father, before walking over and hugging her mother and father.