I wanted to start a new Rumbelle story before "Once Upon A Time" aired tonight. I'm looking forward to the show very much! I hope you enjoy reading my new story. Please feel free to leave reviews.
Mr. Gold stood in front of his cash register in his shop counting the day's money when the bell on his front door chimed. He didn't look up because he didn't want to lose count.
"How much is the hair comb in your window?"
He raised his gaze in the direction of the woman's voice and his heart nearly stopped. Off all the stores in all the towns in all the world, Belle walked into his.
And she didn't recognize him.
It was worth at least fifty bucks but he wanted her to have it. "Uh... it's... for you, it's $25.00." He cleared his throat. For goodness sake don't stammer! She'll think you're ill.
She opened a wallet and pulled out three tens. "I'll take it," she said. "Oh, are you still looking for help? You have a 'help wanted' sign in your window."
"Yes, the position is still open. Are you... are you applying for it," He hoped she was! He would love to have her close by his side every day, even if she had no clue who he was.
"I'd like to, depending what it is."
"I need to do inventory and I wanted an assistant. I'm sorry, but the position is temporary. Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all," she said and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay then, dearie. When can you start?" Now, now, please say now!
"Right now, if you like."
"You don't even want to know how much I pay?" He smiled at her, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume as she moved closer to him.
"I forgot to ask. How much?"
"$12.00 per hour."
"That's perfect. I need a little extra money anyway." She placed the three tens on the counter. "I'd also like the hair comb."
He walked to the front of the store as if on clouds. Belle was by his side once again! If only she remembered him. He picked up the hair comb and turned around, nearly bumping into her because she stood so close to him. He lost his balance and she reached out one hand, placing it on his shoulder so he wouldn't fall. His arms wrapped around her waist as he righted himself. Suddenly overheated, he pulled away from her as a flush flowed up his face.
"Sorry 'bout that. I stumbled." He stammered.
"You would have toppled right over if I hadn't caught you. I shouldn't have walked so closely behind you."
I'm so glad you did! I got to touch you! "Think nothing of it." He held out the hair comb. Rubies and lead crystal in the delicate silver reflected light shining in the room. Rapunzel held her golden tresses in place with that comb. "Here you go, dearie. It will look lovely in your hair." He took a chance to be very daring. "May I put it in for you?"
"Yes, thank you. My hair's thick enough to hold it in place, right?"
"Definitely." He brushed her hair to the side of her temple with his fingers and slid the comb into place behind her right ear. Her hair felt like gossamer silk between his fingers. "It looks very pretty." He wanted to say she looked very pretty but he was too chicken-hearted.
"Thank you." Her smile lit up the room. She looked into one of the Queen's old magic mirrors and inspected her image. Pleased, she smiled even more. "I like it. It's just my kind of thing."
"I'm closing up now, and I still owe you five dollars in change. I could start cataloging inventory now, unless you can't tonight."
"I can. Tell me what I need to do."
You need to remember me and love me again. "Follow me. I'll give you instructions."
He walked to his counter, opened the register, and handed her a crisp five dollar bill. She pocketed it. She followed him to the rear of the store where he picked up a booklet and pen, which he handed to her. A treasure trove of junk and antiques stacked from floor to ceiling. So much history in so tight a space.
"I'll read off the item and you write down the name. Then I'll give you the price. You write that down too." He handed her the booklet and pen.
"Sounds easy enough. May I sit down?" She pointed to a shoemaker's small wooden chair, one made for him by elves.
"Yes, of course. I'll start here and work my way to the back of storage." He picked up a tarnished silver lamp that had once belonged to Aladdin. He was careful to not rub it. "One silver lamp, $75.00."
Scribble, scribble. "Done!" Belle said.
He grasped several ornate pens in his hand. They were made from the wood of the Tree of Life. "Fancy wooden pens... six in all. $5.00 each."
Scribble, scribble. "Done!"
He brushed his hand against the soft silk of a light blue gown that had once belonged to Cinderella's fairy godmother before the old bag gained too much weight. "Blue vintage dress. Silk and lace. Light blue. Oh... how much do you think it's worth?"
"I have no idea. I know nothing about antiques."
"Take a guess."
"Hmmm... $125.00?"
"Not a bad guess. Actually it's worth $150.00." He smiled as she scribbled down the information. Belle was so eager to do a good job and very eager to please. He liked that kind of enthusiasm.
She pointed to several rusty cookie cutters. "What are they?"
"Gingerbread men cookie cutters." They belonged to Hansel and Gretel after they killed the witch, but he didn't tell Belle that. He picked them up, walked out of the back room and placed them on his counter. Then, he returned to Belle. "They need a good once-over with a scouring pad before I sell them, but they're $5.00 a piece."
She wrote down the information and looked up at him, wanting to know what came next. "How long have you owned this store? You have some nice things here."
"I've had it for a number of years. I do like to collect old things." He held up Sleeping Beauty's pearl necklace she was given as an 18th birthday present. "Each item has its own story to tell. This one for instance belonged to a young woman whose family loved her very much. She didn't want to give it up but at the time she had little choice."
"Do people ever come back for their belongings?"
"Sometimes. I'm always happy to return items to their original owners. But most often I sell them to new people."
"That's so sad." She lifted a cloth teddy bear and placed it on her lap. "Imagine the child who outgrew this toy. I'd have kept it and handed it down to my own child."
His heart filled with love for her affectionate nature. He was so happy she spent an evening with him, even if it was only for the want of money. They spent the next two hours doing inventory and talking about what events in people's lives would lead them to part with their most cherished belongings. Belle herself had never given her own possessions over to a pawn shop, except she did give her old clothes to a thrift store after she outgrew them. They were terribly out of fashion by the time the store acquired them and they were sold as vintage duds.
The cuckoo clock on the wall chirped 8 pm by the time they stopped for the night. Mr. Gold didn't want to leave Belle. What could he do to enjoy her company for a few more hours?
"You did a wonderful job tonight, dearie. How about I treat you to dinner?" His heart trip-hammered in his chest. Yes, yes, please say yes!
"I'd love to," Belle answered and his good mood soared. "Where do you want to go?"
"I know of a delightful Italian place not far from here. Do you like manicotti? Tony makes the best manicotti."
"That sounds wonderful. And I'm very hungry."
"Then let's head out. But first, I owe you for your work tonight." They walked out of his back storage room and into the main shop. He pulled $25.00 out of his register, which she took and pocketed. He didn't mind giving her the extra dollar. He wouldn't miss it. "Can you come back tomorrow night?"
"I'd be happy to. I need the money but I'm enjoying your company. You tell the most wonderful stories and you take very good care of your shop."
Her words touched his heart. No wonder he warmed to her so quickly. If only she remembered him! Maybe she would once he handed her the items that used to belong to her. All in good time, all in good time.
They walked through the warm night air to the restaurant. As they chatted over tomato sauce and ricotta cheese, Mr. Gold couldn't have felt happier. Belle was back in his life, and even though she couldn't yet remember him, he wouldn't have it any other way.
