DOG DAYS
Maine
Gold drummed his fingers along the ridge of his truck's steering wheel, guiding the vehicle along Dead Man's Curve, eager to get home. His errands in town had taken him longer than he had expected. The passenger seat was sadly empty, save for an old tattered blanket that was spread out. He usually brought his dog Wilby with him wherever he went, but since he had business inside the bank and he was strictly forbidden to bring his four legged friend into a federal building, Wilby had to stay home. When he had grabbed his keys off the peg on the foyer, his dog did a little dance and he almost caved, but alas, it was the Dog Days of Summer and he could not bear to leave Wilby out in a stifling hot car for hours.
"Stay, Wilby," Gold had instructed as he was heading out. Wilby went to pout on his bed near Gold's recliner. Scratching behind the dog's ears, tussling his thick mane, Gold promised, "I'll bring you home something; I promise."
Wilby whimpered but he seemed to understand. The dog was a beaut; a full-bread Collie, his face was coroneted with golden-brown hair, white on his neck and chest, his back was black. Wilby's soft eyes appeared brown, yet in the right light they glowed like burning orange embers. A cast-off from one of those infernal puppy mills, Gold discovered Wilby on a rescue website and plucked him up. The dog had been his companion ever since.
After his errands Gold decided that he would swing past the pet store for the dog's favorite treats and a new stuffed toy kitty. Wilby loved his stuffed kitties. He had three in various stages of destruction, hidden around the house.
Milah had been home when he left, shut up in her studio in the attic; and though she was not an animal lover, if Wilby needed something, he could go to her. At least he wouldn't be alone in the house.
Once past Dead Man's Curve, Gold drove on for two more miles, before turning off and onto his property. Milah's car was gone, but that wasn't too surprising. The country life didn't really suite her; she would head to town every day to socialize with her girlfriends at the Rabbit Hole. The quiet grated on her brittle nerves.
Gold parked the truck on the gravel driveway, gathered up his bags, he toted them into the house. Letting out a shrill whistle between his two front teeth, he called out, "Wilby, I'm home!"
The dog had a keen sixth sense and could somehow detect when Gold was nearing home in his truck, even if he was not yet in sight. Yet Wilby had not been at the door to greet him. And the clicking of Wilby's nails never sounded as they usually did when he cantered on the hardwood floors.
Gold rummaged through the pet store sack and withdrew the stuffed kitty. He squeezed the stomach and it squeaked.
Nothing.
Gold's brow furrowed. That's odd. He left the kitchen and roamed the house in search for the dog. The rooms were eerily quiet and on the second lap, Gold noticed that there were things missing: Milah's artwork, figurines, furniture, books…The telly in the living room was still there, so it wasn't a robbery.
"Wilby?" He shouted. "Where are you, boy?"
Gold paused in the dining room, massaged the knot that had formed at the base of his neck, bewildered by the oddity of it all. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white envelope bearing his name, lying on the oak table.
He opened the envelope and perused the contents.
Avery,
It's over. It's been over for a while now. I want a divorce. I have met someone else; I have met my true love. I have taken what is mine and what is due me and my lawyers will be in touch.
Milah
Gold drew out one of the chairs and slumped into it. He wasn't a fool; their marriage hadn't been perfect, they had been drifting apart. They had been fighting more. But all marriages had their ups and downs, he had figured that they were going through a rough patch and in time it'd be better again. That was how it was with relationships; you take the good with the bad.
But divorce – he had not expected that.
Gold crumbled the note in his fist and tossed over his shoulder. The house was still too quiet, silent as the grave, really. And Wilby had not come when he had been called.
Wilby? Where is Wilby? Panic seized his chest and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.
"Oh God!" Gold grasped the table ledge to keep himself upright.
Milah had taken Wilby too.
White hot rage surged through his veins. It didn't take long, but what Milah didn't take with her, he destroyed.
#
Two Years Later
Indiana
Belle swiped her damp brow with the back of her hand and crouched closer to the flowerbed, to pat down the recently upturned soil around her new plant. She had been at a local nursery and spied a yellow Butterfly Bush that she thought would look lovely in front of her apartment. Though the property was not hers, it needed some color. Whilst a little late in the year to be planting anything, she could resurrect any living thing back to life. Her mother's green thumb lived on through her.
"Arrf!"
Belle furrowed her brow. She didn't think any of her neighbors had gotten a new dog, but it sounded close.
"Arrf!" The bark sounded again.
Belle straightened and shifted in time to be pounced on by a slim, agile, floofy dog!
Though slight, the canine had enough power in its limbs to knock her back on her derriere. As if to make up for it, he nuzzled her chin with his cold nose and then licked her.
"Hey there!" Belle greeted him, tussling his thick mane. She frowned when her fingers were pricked by stickers, cockleburs, and mats. Giving him a quick look over, she deduced that he was a stray and had been on his own for a while.
Tears flooded her eyes at the thought of the poor creature alone in the world. Ever since the deaths of her parents, she too had been alone.
Perhaps she needed a dog and perhaps the dog needed her.
"C'mon," She got to her feet, patted her thigh and beckoned the dog into the house. "Come with me, baby."
He followed, tail swishing back and forth the whole way.
Hours later, the dog was stretched out on her couch, belly full, and snoring obnoxiously. Belle reclined in a chair only a few feet from her guest; she watched every little movement the dog made. It had been a long day. First there was a plentiful helping of dog food, which she had bought on a quick trip to the store. Then a bath, in which she discovered that the dog was a male, a Collie, and underneath the matted mess of fur, mud, and stickers, he was wearing an old tattered collar, which had "Wilby" embroidered on the band. The condition of his paw pads were horrendous; cracked and caked with dried blood, she was surprised that he could still walk or stand. She could only suppose that Wilby had been on his own for a while. The vet could give him a proper examination in the morning, but for now, the dog needed rest.
After three tub-filled bathes, Wilby was finally clean and he was exhausted. His eyelids were thick and drooping. Belle bound his feet in bandages and carried him to the couch for him to take a nap. Hours had passed and he was still fast asleep.
Her eyes watered and she blinked the tears away. Wilby was such a nice, gentle creature and from the collar, she could tell that he had belonged to someone. Someone had cared about Wilby at one point.
The collar! Belle eased off the chair, so she would not wake her guest and she tiptoed to the bathroom where she had left the collar on the mat. Grabbing it up, she flipped the tag and found a number on the back. Dialing it into her cell, her heart sank when that automated voice declared that the number had been disconnected. A few key strokes on her phone, she typed the area code into the search engine and her eyes bulged.
"Maine!" She shook her head in amazement and collar still in hand, she returned to the living room.
Belle chuckled. Wilby's lips were flapping as he snored, then his tail started to wag in his sleep.
Placing a gentle kiss on the dog's narrow muzzle, she whispered, "How in the world did you get all the way to Indiana?"
Wilby stirred at the sound of her voice and he licked her fingers, then whimpered. He fought to keep his eyes open, but was too weary to stay conscious.
Belle lifted his head up slightly, sat down beside him and his head dropped back down on her lap. He squirmed, searching for the right spot, before he settled down and dozed once more.
"Just rest, Wilby." She stroked his head and rubbed his belly, frowning at how his ribs poked out like jagged edges of a razor. "You can make yourself at home here and stay for as long as you'd like. I'll get you fattened up."
Toying with the dog tag on the collar, Belle sighed. Maine was so far off. Is he running away from Maine? No, that couldn't be it. Tracing the lettering on the collar, though worn and ragged, it had once been expensive. Wilby had been loved and his owner had to miss him. They could have been separated a number of ways, even death. Though she hoped that was not the case.
I'll have to do some research in the morning. Belle decided. But for now she'd just enjoy cuddling this sweet dog.
#
Maine
Gold grumbled a litany of profanities and rejected the call from an Indiana number for the second time. It was almost the heat of the day, the painfully bright sun was glaring down upon him, sapping him of his energy and whatever moisture was in the area. And some fool from Indiana was pestering him, distracting him from tending to his animals. They needed fresh water. He didn't have time to deal with telemarketers, not when he was the only one managing this working farm.
When the phone rang again, he answered it, growling his response. "What the hell do you want?"
A small gasp on the other end made him smirk. Perhaps they'd leave him alone now.
"Sorry to disturb you, but I found a dog, and after some research, I found this number." A youthful, feminine Australian voice meekly replied, which more than caught his attention. An Australian in Indiana was about as common as a Scotsman in Maine. "Is this A. Gold? Are you Wilby's owner? Hello? Are you still there?"
Wilby? Gold staggered; like a blind man he felt for the nearest surface, which was the side of the barn. He sank down to the ground and he sucked in a sharp breath.
He nearly unleashed a barrage of curses upon the girl. Two years had passed since Milah had taken Wilby, as a means to spite him. "Wilby is my dog, you hate the dog!" He had shouted into the phone, but all he heard was a deranged cackle on the other end. Days later she had confessed that Wilby had bit her boyfriend and so she had dumped Wilby in a shelter. The harpy wouldn't say which shelter and so he contacted nearly every shelter on the east coast, to no avail. Despite his frantic attempts to locate Wilby – from networking and the reward signs - it was no use. Wilby was gone. That didn't stop some pain-in-the-ass kids from calling up and try to ransom Wilby, to extract some money from him.
Then there was the dark fact that shelters only kept animals for a limited amount of time before the animals were put down. He tried not to allow his mind to go there, but he feared that Wilby had been exterminated.
"Is this some kind of sick prank?" Gold drawled, gritting his teeth. "Because I swear to God-"
"No, no trick. I promise." The woman assured him, sounding a little bewildered to him. "Um…are you on a cell? Let me send you a picture."
Gold heard her speak baby talk and then after a click, there was a ding on his phone. He rarely texted and due to his agitation, it took him a minute to find the photo in the messenger.
An image appeared, one of his Wilby. The dog looked much the same – a little older, a little thinner and his paws had bandages on them – but that was his Wilby, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
Gold swallowed, fighting tears. He didn't want to lose it while on the phone; he'd do that later. "Wilby!" He croaked and pressed the phone back to his ear. "That's my dog. Where are you? I'll pick him up."
"Um…Indiana. That's a bit of a stretch from Maine." There was a giggle on her end.
Gold raised his palm to his forehead, feeling stupid. Right, Indiana. He couldn't just hop into his truck and go retrieve Wilby. Arrangements needed to be made, he had to buy a plane ticket, find a way to bring Wilby back to Maine. A few days, that was all it would take before he was reunited with his dog.
"No, I'm coming. I'll be there this Saturday, I swear!" Gold insisted, hating how desperate he was. But he didn't want the girl to doubt his sincerity and decide to get rid of the dog the way Milah did. Not when he was this close to being reunited with Wilby. "Please, just take care of him."
"Of course. Would you like to speak to him? I'll put you on speaker phone." The girl clicked a button before he could reply and then heard her whisper, "Wilby, I have a surprise."
His heart fluttered in his chest. It had been two years since Wilby had been taken away. Ridiculous as it might seem, dogs felt things keenly. God only knew what horrendous things happened to Wilby; he hoped that his dog wasn't too traumatized by what he had gone through.
"Hey Wilby, it's me. Do you remember me?" Gold paused.
Wilby let out a cheerful, "Arf!" and the girl started to laugh. Whenever Wilby got excited, he would spin around in a circle, in an awkward little dance. Gold could well imagine Wilby doing that now.
"You've been a good dog and I am coming for you, I promise!" Gold swore.
"Arf!"
"He is so excited!" The girl exclaimed. "He's frolicking!"
Warmth flooded throughout Gold's body, along with relief, that Wilby didn't hate him for what happened. Milah had been the one who had wronged the dog, but Wilby probably didn't understand that.
Gold exhaled and let his head fall back against the wood. "Thank you, Miss…" He faltered and again felt like a fool. They had not been properly introduced.
"Belle French." Belle supplied and then gave him her address. "It's no problem at all. I'm glad that you two will be reunited."
Gold thanked her once more and promised to call back later when he had the arrangements made. Disconnecting, he shook his head, amazed by the sudden turn of events. Since Milah left and had stolen Wilby from him, he had more or less shut himself off from the world. The thought of getting another dog seemed like betrayal to Wilby's memory. Nothing could replace his dog.
But now, Wilby was coming home and life would return to normal.
#
Indiana
Belle's heart sank in her chest when a taxi pulled up in front of her apartment. She combed her fingers through Wilby's thick hair, memorizing the soft texture for future reference. They had been sitting out on the from porch waiting since she had received a call that Gold was on his way.
Wilby's ears perked up and he let out a high-pitched whimper. He did his circle dance and wagged his tail.
"I know, there's your papa." Belle planted a quick kiss on the top of his head.
A short, thin man with a head of shaggy hair emerged from the taxi and paid the driver. She stifled a giggle, impishly thinking that Gold somewhat reminded her of Wilby. A thin frame, delicate features, floofy hair; from her vantage point his body was taut with unspent energy.
The taxi departed and Gold approached slowly.
Belle gave Wilby a comforting pat and ushered him towards his owner. "Go on!"
Wilby bounded to Gold, at the very last taking a flying leap into his owner's arms. Belle winced when Gold fell backwards but was relieved when Gold started laughing and tussling the dog's mane.
"Hey, my boy. Wilby…I missed you!" Cradling the dog's narrow face, she heard Gold murmur, "I'm so sorry; it'll never happen again, I promise."
Wilby swiped his tongue across his owner's chin, as if to assure him that all was well.
Belle stood awkwardly, watching the reunion with mixed feelings. She was happy that Wilby had found Gold again; that was what she wanted. They should be together. But she was going to miss the scrappy little dog. He had become her buddy in the last few weeks. She took him on her errands, showed him off to her friends, and he liked cuddling with her at the end of a long day.
Gold got to his feet and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt and slacks, which were smudged with dog prints. He extended his hand to her. "Hello. Thank you for everything." His fingers wrapped around hers as they shook. The pads of his fingers and palms were calloused, from years of hard manual labor, but his touch was gentle. "My name is Avery Gold, by the way."
Gold wasn't handsome, not in the conventional sense, yet the longer she looked at him, the more she liked his unique looks. Her last boyfriend had been a huge, strapping fellow with dark, chiseled features. His egoism had been what led to their break up. But Gold… he was only a few inches taller than her and the nearness of their heights made her feel equal to him.
Blushing, she wondered what was wrong with her. Rarely was she instantly attracted to a man. But Gold was a different story.
"Belle." She drew her hand back when it dawned on her that she was stupidly grinning at him. "Wilby has been a wonderful guest and I have some things I bought for him."
Belle back away and retrieved the two large bags from the porch.
Gold accepted them from her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's quite a bit of things."
"Yeah, I got a little carried away." Belle bit her lip shyly. Wilby had come to her with nothing, so she bought all the basics and then there were the toys. She went overboard with the dog toys, but they made him happy. "It's been a long while since I've had a dog."
The last time she had a pet was before college. Before Wilby came into her life, she had not realized how lonely she had been.
Belle glanced down and smiled a sad smile. Wilby was at her feet, his tail thumping against the sidewalk. Kneeling down, she hugged him and kissed the side of his face. "I'm going to miss you, Wilby."
Straightening to her full height, ready to bid them both farewell before she succumbed to her tears.
"Wait…" Gold raked a hand through his hair and then crossed his arms. "May I buy you dinner? As a thank you for all you have done." His brow was raised and he looked at her so earnestly, that she couldn't turn him down.
Besides it would buy her some extra time with Wilby and this Scotsman farmer. Perhaps he would tell her how he came to America and what Scotland was like. Her travels had been limited that she knew very little of the world, aside from books and documentaries. Oh, she had been born in Australia, but she left when she was a small girl, so her memories of that adventure were skewed.
"Sure. We have a pub here that allows dogs in, actually." Belle suggested. Sonka's Bar and Grill was Irish-themed, but it was pet-friendly and hopefully Gold would like it. She had brought Wilby in a time or two.
"Sounds great." Gold nodded and with Wilby in tow, they followed her to her car.
#
Indiana
Gold didn't know what to do with his hands.
He had been so happy to finally be reunited with Wilby that when he came face to face with his dog, all of his attention was focused on him. Then when he properly met Miss French – Belle, as she insisted to be called - she blew him away by how…well, pretty and articulate she was. Her love for Wilby was clearly genuine…she was the polar opposite of Milah. Warm, funny, intelligent. Full of questions.
He had hoped that Sonka's Bar and Grill would put him at ease. Having grown up in Scotland, pubs were his home away from home…even if it was Irish themed. But with Wilby beside him in the booth, sitting across from her, Gold could not relax.
Belle was beautiful. Her chestnut curls were drawn to the side in a braid, making her cerulean eyes appear larger. She had this adorable habit of chewing on her lower lip, which looked soft and full to him. He'd love nothing more than to find out for himself, taste her lips properly. Since the divorce, he hadn't dated…Milah ruined love and relationships for him. But this bright, sweet girl made him wish that he were brave. Brave enough to ask her out.
He fidgeted, unable to sit still, and couldn't decide where to put his hands. In the end, he settled for laying one on the table edge while the other absently stroked his dog's head.
Gold sent her a bashful smile. "So you are a librarian?" he asked, after the waiter took their drink orders.
"Assistant librarian." Belle corrected. "And you?"
"I have a farm; I grow produce." He replied, feeling a little embarrassed. Farming was nothing to be ashamed of; it was good and honest work and he had always loved it. But perhaps it sounded too simple to Belle. Too…ordinary.
The waiter returned with their drinks and scribbled down their meal orders, then to Gold's relief, left them alone.
"So, you said in the car that your ex took Wilby?" Belle nodded towards the dog.
"Yes. I came home one day and found the house empty." Gold cringed and cast a glance towards his buddy. Wilby stretched up and licked his jaw and then spread out on his lap. The fears he had of Wilby holding a grudge over what happened – had been entirely unfounded. The dog showed no signs of anger over the separation and behaved as though nothing terrible had happened. The only difference with Wilby was that he had gained a new friend. "Milah had left, took Wilby with her. She had dumped him in a shelter somewhere in California as it turns out. And I couldn't find him."
Belle let out a strange squawk and covered her mouth.
"What? What is it?" Gold asked.
Belle reached across the table and grasped his hand, squeezing slightly. "Don't you see? Wilby was in California; he must have escaped somehow and he made it all the way to Indiana. He was coming home to you!"
"Wilby." Gold breathed the dog's name like a prayer.
Wilby's love-filled eyes turned upwards and he squirmed, knowing the attention was on him. Gold shook his head in amazement. He had heard stories of pets separated from their owners and made great journeys to find them. A dog's love was great, in many way's greater than a human's. Innocent, unconditional, beautiful. Which was why Gold had always been more drawn to animals than people.
"You should get a dog." Gold tussled Wilby's head. "They're excellent company."
"I don't know if that'd be such a good idea." Belle slipped the straw between her lips and nursed her iced tea. Swallowing, she continued, a little shame-faced. "I sort of fibbed a few minutes ago; I'm unemployed at the moment. I was an assistant librarian, but there were cuts at the library and I was let go a couple weeks ago. Anyway, things are going to be tight for a while."
"Storybrooke's librarian is retiring. You could take over." The words left his lips before he fully realized what he had suggested. But it made sense to him.
Belle was a librarian, she needed a job, and Storybrooke would be perfect for her. It was small and homey, idyllic even. Mrs. Potts was retiring and would no doubt feel better about leaving her beloved library in such capable hands. Best of all, he and Wilby could see her from time to time and enjoy her company.
"What?" Belle's eyes widened as she let out an unladylike snort. "Leave my home, move to Maine and start over at a place where I don't know anyone?"
"You'd know me and you certainly know Wilby." Gold replied, then considered what he was asking of her. Her whole life was in Indiana, she had roots and family. It was pretty presumptuous of him to suggest such a thing. "Guess it is kind of an outlandish notion." He admitted, his smile waning.
To deflect her attention from his gaff, he asked her what books she liked and was relieved when Belle began to prattle on about Austen and Gaskell and Wharton.
Gold was able to uphold his end of the conversation despite his mounting disappointment. He had just met Belle and though they seemed to get along well enough, he had no reason to think that she'd be interested in him. Let alone move over a thousand miles for the possibility of a job.
He stroked Wilby's hair, reminding himself, You came for Wilby and you got what you wanted. That's all that really matters. Once their meal was concluded, he and Wilby would head on home and life would return to normal.
#
Indiana
Belle trailed after Gold and Wilby as they exited Sonka's, her hands behind her back, clasping her wrist.
She had been blown away by Gold's suggestion for her to apply for the library position in Storybrooke. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Her whole life was in Indiana…Well, what life she did have. Her parents were gone, she had no family, wasn't dating anyone at the moment, she was currently unemployed. Oh, she had friends and though she cared about them, for the sake of a couple of friends seemed like a thin reason to remain in Indiana. New friends could be made.
Besides, Gold and Wilby would be there.
Wilby… A smile broke out on her face as the dog gazed up at her.
Belle squatted down beside the dog and dropped a kiss on his brow. "Good bye, Wilby. I'll miss you." She hugged him, fighting the urge to scoop him up and take him back home. Releasing him, she stood and instructed, "Take care of Gold, okay?"
Wilby's ears twitched and he looked to Gold and back to her. He made a little whimper.
"Avery. That's my name." Gold – Avery – corrected gently, his expression soft. Claiming her hand, her compressed it. "Thank you for everything. I wish I could thank you properly."
Belle couldn't help herself and hugged him, drawing him close to her. She barely knew him, but they had spent the greater part of the afternoon together and she would miss Avery as well. He was a sweet, kind, intelligent individual. When she had talked, he listened and took an interest in what she said.
Belle was loathed to part from him and began to until she leaned back and looked into his whisky colored eyes. Rising up on tip toe, she brushed her mouth against his. His arms encircled her as he delved in, his warm tongue slipping between her lips, searching out her most sensitive parts. Her fingers were buried in his floof, digging into his scalp. Chest to chest, the warmth of him surrounded her and she could feel his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage.
Avery suddenly disengaged himself, muttering, "Sorry, I -"
Belle gave him a quick peck, silencing his apologies. They had just met and he was going home, taking Wilby with him. Over a thousand miles would be between them but she had no regrets.
She had always dreamed of adventures and traveling, but somewhere along the line she had fallen into a rut and hid away in her books, where it was safe. But now was her chance, to have an adventure of her own. And what could be more extraordinary than moving across the country for a new job and a new life, and quite possibly a new love? That would be the greatest adventure of all.
"I'll, um, I'll look into the Storybrooke's library position." Belle promised, feeling her face grow hot. Casting a glance at the dog, whose mouth was ajar and teeth was showing, he appeared to be grinning. "If Wilby can be brave enough to travel across the country, then so can I."
Avery chuckled and stroked his knuckles along the curve of her jaw. "Good. List me as a recommendation."
"I will." Belle nodded. Her fears were slowly melting away and she knew that she had made the right choice.
Avery tugged her close and kissed her once more, swallowing her breathy moans.
Belle lost herself in him, ignoring the whistles and the hollers of those passing by. However she could have sworn she felt Wilby's arm wrap around her leg and drag her closer to Avery, as though he were hugging them together.