The job at the gas station fell through. Eugene wasn't surprised or upset. He just focused on finding small jobs around the town, such as people who needed their lawns mowed. That was surprisingly lucrative, believe it or not, but not enough to rent a home, obviously. But as soon as he could get a banking account, that money would go directly into it. For a month, he couldn't find any more jobs available. And then it happened.
Rapunzel ran home from work that day. She nearly collided with the tall man, who had gotten in the habit of walking home with her from the curb. "Oh! Oh, thank goodness! There you are! Flynn, a-a- a job just opened up at the bookstore! This is the most perfect opportunity I think I've ever seen! It's in-it's in stocking and unloading boxes from trucks, but it's a start, isn't it? It's a decent pay! Not the best, but it's a little bit more than mine! I asked Mr. Barnes. He said he'd be okay with you coming in tomorrow morning. Very informal. First come first serve basis with him. Family-run business. He's a very kind employer."
"Slow down," he laughed. "I hardly understood a word you said."
She took a deep breath, but then rummaged in her purse and pulled out a slightly-crumpled packet. "Papers on the job. As long as you understood the whole job bit?"
He nodded, taking the packet. "He knows about my situation?"
Rapunzel nodded. "I hope you don't mind, but I told him about you."
"No discrimination because of my situation?" he asked. "I mean, I'll definitely go talk to him tomorrow, and I'll fill the paperwork out and everything, but I'm just wondering. Need to know in case I need to come up with some points to back myself up with."
"He would never," Rapunzel shook her head. "I'm certain of it. He understands that I've been letting you live in my house, and if I trust you, he'll definitely trust you."
Eugene's eyebrows furrowed. Rapunzel mistrustful? "You always seemed to be a very trusting sort of person, though."
She bit her lip. "Well..I'm not really all that trusting. You just seemed different."
"Really?"
"Yes," she shrugged and surged ahead of him on the sidewalk, not really wanting to discuss the inevitable: why are you mistrustful?
He was quiet for a few minutes. "I suppose if I don't want to tell you about my back story, I shouldn't ask you to talk about yours. Right?"
She slowed, smiling. "Right. Not to be, you know, mean or anything. Which, I'm not, I just-"
"I get it," he reassured her. "Don't worry about it."
"Okay,"
As they walked in silence, Eugene watched the back of Rapunzel's head. Her hair was growing out quickly, and had relaxed to rest on her shoulders in the short time he'd known her. She was full of mystery to Eugene. As a person with a writer's mind, he couldn't help the curiosity constantly simmering in his mind, he'd just learned to tamp it down. But he wanted to know why she was so kindhearted, yet supposedly so mistrustful. What hid behind her unusually bright smile. But why should she tell him?
Back at the old Victorian house, Rapunzel sat on the couch with a book while Eugene filled out and looked through the paperwork necessary to apply for the job at the bookstore. When he was done, he stacked them neatly and turned around on the swivel chair.
"It is done." he announced in a deep voice, teasingly.
Rapunzel glanced up from her book and laughed. "That's good. I'm so excited for tomorrow!"
"I'm getting a little excited, too. Maybe. I don't want to get my hopes up too far," he added.
"I get'cha," Rapunzel nodded. "You can be excited after you're hired. Although there isn't a doubt in my mind you'll get the job!" she reassured him, getting up to start dinner.
As soon as she got some garlic bread in the oven to toast and spaghetti on the stove to cook, she ran upstairs and grabbed a thin file folder, setting it out on her center counter and leaning over it, studying it closely. She'd be able to go over it without interruption.
Her adoption folder.
It included who adopted her and their information. When she was adopted. Her date of birth. Full name...Rapunzel Louisa Dyneen.
It did not, however, include contact information for a certain Mama or Papa Dyneen. She'd contacted the orphanage and requested information, but the lady on the phone had refused to give her confidential information.
The one piece of information she ever needed, ever cared about...she couldn't get to. It was like dangling a treat hopelessly in front of a dog, just out of reach. She hated it.
"What's that?"
Flynn.
She snapped the file closed, swiping a few pages underneath it. "U-um...a file about my parents. Sort of.."
"Really? What're you going to do?" he asked. "I thought you were an orphan."
"I am. My parents gave me up at birth. I want to meet them, but...I can't get any confidential information from the orphanage. And of course, my adoptive mother would be of no use."
"Can't you call the hospital you were born in? With a name like Rapunzel, surely your file would stand out."
Rapunzel nodded, nibbling her lip. "I'd never thought of that, but I don't know where I was born."
He nodded, scratching his chin a moment before gesturing to the folder. "It should have the information in there somewhere. Might be worth looking into."
She smiled. "Maybe. I hope so. It sounds weird, but it's my dream to meet my biological parents."
"It isn't weird at all," he shook his head. "I applaud your attempts. Someday, I hope you can meet them. If anyone deserves it, it's you."
"Really?" Her nose wrinkled as she smiled.
"Of course! You're a good person," he mumbled.
"Well, so are you, and..." she trailed off.
He licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah. So why wouldn't your adoptive mother be of any help?"
"I haven't contacted her in years. She's not a person you like to be around," she said simply, running her fingers across something on her bare arm. He didn't look, but he was fairly certain she was rubbing the jagged scar he'd noticed on her arm. Did her adoptive mother have something to do with that scar? If he didn't keep his heart chained inside his own chest, he would've let it go out to her. But he couldn't afford that - he couldn't get attached to this girl. He'd get an apartment and be on his way. Unless...he got a job at the same place she worked in. But that was life. He'd manage his feelings; he always did. He didn't want to get her involved in all his bad luck. If she had an unfortunate past, it was her personal problem, and he didn't need to get involved. But something made him want to know: this sudden and strange need to protect the girl who disappeared in on herself at the mere mention of her past.
