Chapter 7: The Day After

Mr. Gold had trouble sleeping that night. His mind kept spinning over his son, his ex-wife and her partner, but also his maid. He tried to put Belle French out of his mind, but she insisted on coming back. He was glad that Milah would be the one to coach Brant into rehab, even though he felt like a coward over it and feared his son's retribution. Hopefully Brant wouldn't return to his old method of shutting him out of his life. Perhaps rehab would finally bring out a few of the unspoken issues between the two of them. The thought both pleased and frightened him. What if Brant told him things he didn't want to hear?

A carpenter had been called to look at the table the following morning: one that specialized in antique furniture. He had been appalled at the sight of the demolished rosewood and the prognoses were not good. He would try his best, but probably to no avail. Mr. Gold had insisted that he tried, being very aware of Belle listening in on their conversation, pretending to wash the windows. When he escorted the man out, he asked for something else. If the table really was beyond repair could he perhaps make a smaller table out of it: he might consider giving it as a gift to a certain lady friend. The carpenter laughed and tapped the side of his nose in a gesture of understanding.

"Are you satisfied?" Mr. Gold asked her after he entered the dining room again. "I've tried my best, but it doesn't sound too well." His voice faltered ever so slightly. She didn't reply which annoyed him to no end. "I know you are listening Belle, and you were listening in just now. You've cleaned those windows three days ago, or did you think I wouldn't notice?"

She turned around. "I didn't think you would, no. So you do see everything I do around here then?"

Is she flirting with me? He briefly wondered. "Of course," he replied graciously. "How couldn't I? You've changed my dusty castle into a fairy tale one, complete with shining candles and smelly roses and…" The shrill sound of the phone ended his sentence for him. It was Brant and he was not happy.

"Mom is here to pick me up. She is staging a ff-ing intervention; she and Kenny!" Brant's voice carried throughout the room. Belle couldn't help but overhear. "How could you have told them! How could you! I trusted you!" With that the phone call ended. Mr. Gold shook a little and clutched his cane for support. Soon he was brought to tears and unable to help them streaming down his face. His son felt betrayed because he had broken their bond of trust; he had lost his son again. He didn't notice Belle until she was standing right before him holding out her handkerchief. Mr. Gold gratefully took it.

The concern in her eyes was almost too much. It made his eyes water again. "Thank you," he whispered. "I've been having a rough time lately…"

"I know." She smiled sympathetically. "Milah told me a bit about it yesterday. She is quite something though…"

"Oh yes, she is." He smiled. "We were pretty well matched in the fireworks department."

"More like bombs and grenades, I think," Belle suggested. "Hence the mess in here…"

"Her new husband is not so well versed. A complete pushover. She must be bored out of her skull with him…"

"Maybe she likes the peace and quiet…."

"Are you teasing me? Belle, Belle!" He shouted after her but Belle quickly ran out of earshot, leaving Mr. Gold to ponder over, well, everything…

"You'll be fine, baby, just fine. It will all work out, you'll see." They were standing in the hall of the rehab facility. The building was spacious and beautiful, with stained glass windows letting in light in all its colors, but Brant didn't notice it. Milah held her son's face in her hands as she said goodbye. He shrugged her away. He'd just had the intake interview and now it was time for them to leave him here. To leave him behind.

"I am not your baby anymore, mom. You're embarrassing me."

"Good luck mate." Kenneth didn't know what else to say but gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "See you soon." They left the building and Brant stared at them. If only he hadn't confided in his dad. He hadn't told his mother on purpose, knowing full well it would lead to this. But his dad betraying him like that? He never saw it coming.

"Let's have a look at your room then, shall we? Let you settle in…." The nurse guided him to his room. The worst part was about to begin…

Belle came home that evening only to find Gus on her doorstep again. He was wearing a greased jeans jacket and going by the cigarette stubs seemed to have smoked half a package already. She was about to turn around and walk another block but he'd already spotted her. The small bushes that surrounded her tiny garden were not enough to hide her. "Hey Belle, there you are! I've been waiting to catch up…."

"Oh, Gus. Why do you keep doing this? Stop pursuing me! What do I need to do? Beg you, give you money, what? Why can't you just leave me alone!" Her frustration showed very clearly and caused his mood to darken.

"I just want to see you. Talk to you, maybe more?" She pushed him aside, but he grabbed her arm. "You must be lonely at night, in this small blue house of yours. I bet you're thinking of me all the time. How life could have been different… better, so much better!"

Belle tried to get out of his grip but he was strong and didn't let go. He was breathing on her face, attempting to kiss her. She had to be careful… "Gus, Gus, sweetie," she began.

He looked appreciative. "That's more like it. Let me be your sweetie… I promise I'll be good.."

"I'll tell you what. Let's go to dinner together. My treat!" Anything to get him away from her house.

"Like old times. I like the sound of that… Very much. And after dinner we could have our own little party, celebrate us!" Belle let him think what he wanted; she just wanted to get out of here. Having Gaston across a diner table was less hassle than at her house trying to come in. They left in his car, Gus jubilantly and Belle pretending to be the same.

Mr. Gold received a call. He was watching an old James Bond movie, not taking anything in and sipping his whiskey, when it disturbed him. It couldn't be Milah as she had called earlier to relate Brant's safe arrival at rehab. She had been slightly teary but pleased he was getting help. They'd actually had a good talk, being connected by their love for their son and their mutual aim of getting him back on his feet. It was Milah's current husband, Kenny, that was calling him now.

"Sorry to call you this late. It's been awfully hard to get away from her for a second. It's like she is glued to my hip."

"She is just upset about Brant. Milah needs your support." Mr. Gold couldn't believe he was hearing himself give advice to his replacement in love. Did the jealousy subdue? He was absentminded for a moment. Yes, it had. He didn't want Milah back… He wanted.. Who did he want? Did he want anyone? He knew the answer to the question all too well but didn't want to think about the implications.

"Gold, are you still there?"

"Yes, yes, sorry about that. What's the news? How did it go?"

"It wasn't easy to track him down, but I did manage to talk to him. He won't talk. He is very upset that so many people know about this now. Paranoid that they will find out. He could lose his job, go to jail, get beaten up or worse by their enforcers…"

"Good, he'll know to stay silent then. That gives us an opportunity to sort this out."

"What do you mean? Haven't you dealt with it now?"

"Eh, no, I don't think so. That man is selling, distributing, I don't know what. Members of the football team are using drugs, some 'ladies' are behind it. This problem isn't going away: it needs to be eradicated at the roots."

"Eradi…. What? Surely you don't mean to go after these women? Take them down? Are you out of your mind!" Kenny was screaming through the phone. "Gold, you are crazy if you're going to do that! Gold, don't hang up on me!" Mr. Gold already had. This was going to take a lot of planning and research, not to mention money, but it was a very exciting challenge. His eyes gleamed at the thought of taking down the ones responsible for his son's fate.