As he gradually woke up, from his deep slumber, Rumald reached his arm out, trying to find the warm body, that should have been lying next to him. Cracking his eyes open, to look for her, his eyes blew wide open, and he sat up in the bed, finding Belle was gone. Fully awake, Rumald scanned his eyes over the room, thankful he had woken up in her room at Grannies, and not alone in his own bed. It would have been too much, for Rumald, to realise, it had all been a dream. Looking to the pillow, she had slept on last night, he twisted at his waist to grab it, and buried his nose into it, inhaling the exquisite smell of her. He closed his eyes, with a smile growing on his face, remembering their night together.
Rumald returned her pillow, to the head of the bed, and bounced himself across the bed, leaping out of it, to go into the bathroom. The size of the small bathroom, made him stop in the doorway, missing his large bathroom at home. Gazing up, to the small window, he lifted the lid on the toilet, and relieved himself, letting his eyes roam over the bathroom, noting the items that were Belle's. When he was finished, he put the toilet seat down and flushed, taking a minuscule sidestep to the sink, to turn on the taps, and washed his hands and splashed his face with hot water.
Coming out of the bathroom, Rumald searched the bedroom, padding further into the room, looking for his boxers and his other clothes. Confused, as to where they had gone, he spun on the spot, scanning the room for his underwear. Completing a circuit of the room, Rumald knelt down, perusing underneath the bed, and saw his boxers, lying just under Belle's side of the bed. He stood up and went to her side of the bed, and crouched down beside the bed, reaching under the bed to retrieve his boxers. Once he had his boxers on, Rumald made short work of locating his other clothes, and put each one on as he found them.
He reached his hand into his jeans pocket, to pull out his phone, and unlocked his phone, selecting to call Belle, as he left her room, with his overcoat folded over his left forearm. The door clicked shut behind him, and Rumald checked it was locked, before he sauntered away from her door, holding his phone to ear. Whilst he was descending the stairs, her voicemail answered for her, pleasantly asking him to leave a message after the beep. Rumald hung up and stowed his phone back into his jeans pocket, as he stepped off the last step of the stairs, entering the reception area of the bed and breakfast. He was thankful, there was no one in the reception area, but could hear voices, filtering down the corridor from the diner. Choosing to avoid diner, Rumald unfolded his overcoat, and slid his arm into his coat, whilst he opened the door to exit Grannies, via the bed and breakfast. He pulled it close behind him, while he fed his other arm into his coat, shrugging it onto his shoulders.
Rumald closed the flaps of his overcoat, as he went the steps of the small porch, glimpsing round for anyone, who might have spotted him, coming out of Grannies. Heading for his shop, he followed the alley, from the back of Grannies to the road, which linked up with the intersection. His eyes squinted in thought, pondering where Belle could have been, narked he had not woken up with her beside him.
Swiftly taking the corner, at the beginning of the shop fronts, leading to his own shop, Rumald looked ahead of him, to see his Cadillac parked in front of his shop. Beside it, was Emma's yellow Beetle. He curiously eyed her car, as he approached his shop, and when he was close enough, moved his gaze to look through his shop window, spotting Emma talking to Dove inside of his shop. Rumald walked into his shop, whilst Dove pointed to the side door of the shop, his back to Rumald. The two were too engrossed in their conversation, to notice Rumald at first, but they both looked to him, when they heard the crunch of glass under Rumald's feet.
"Morning, Mr Gold." Emma greeted him.
Rumald strolled up to them, saying, as Dove pivoted round to face him. "Did you find anything useful last night?"
Emma's eyebrows hunched down over her eyes, not liking the tone Rumald used with her, and told him. "Graham's at the station right now, scanning the prints into the computer. Should know something before lunch."
"It'll only come back as mine and Dove's." Rumald foresaw.
"Why'd do you say that?" Emma asked him, titling her head to one side.
"Everyone's watched an episode of CSI or Law and Order." Rumald informed her with an amused smile, from having to point out the obvious to her. "Any idiot knows to wear gloves."
Emma braced her hands onto her hips, bold as she said to him. "Yeah, like the idiot, who didn't take my dad's advice and didn't install a security system."
Rumald smirked at her. "Touché, Miss Nolan."
"Which is why, I stopped by this morning." She said to him, and waved a hand to Dove. "I was just telling, Mr Dove, the things I would do, to make this place more secure."
Before he bowed his head in thanks to Emma, Rumald glanced at Dove, and said. "I appreciate the help, Miss Nolan."
"And also," Emma stepped closer to Rumald, to say. "Dad told me, to tell you, not to do anything to Gaston."
"I'm not sure what you mean, dearie, but I wouldn't dream of doing anything to Mr Phipps." He fibbed to her, keeping a straight face as he did.
Emma did not look convinced, while she eyed him suspiciously, slowly moving her gaze from Rumald to Dove, emphasising her point by pointing her finger at them in turn. "That goes for both of you."
Scrunching his brow at her, Rumald said to her, clasping his hands in front of him. "Don't you think, we've got enough to contend with, then chasing down some high school football coach?"
She held up her hands to him, telling him. "Just passing on the message from dad."
"Well, as you can see, Miss Nolan," Rumald waved his right hand, indicating the disarray surrounding them. "We've got a lot of work to get on with. So, if you wouldn't mind leaving, we've got a lot of tidying up to do." He stated to her, while he motioned to Dove, to go through into the backroom.
Emma stepped out of Dove's way, watching him walk to the doorway, leading to the backroom, and said, when he had gone through the doorway. "Neal's planning to come home this weekend." She shamefully dropped her gaze. "I'm going to try and tell him this weekend."
"Good." Rumald watched her slowly raise her gaze to meet his own. "The sooner, the better."
She gave him a questioning look, as though, she had expected Rumald, to offer her some advice or some words of reassurance. Studying her face, he could see in her eyes, that Emma had hoped for something more from him. Possibly thinking, he would support her through this difficult issue. If her secret, had not involved his son, Rumald could have cared less about her. Yes, he could make an excuse for her – too young, too scared, made to do it by her mother - but nevertheless, Emma had had a choice in the matter. She had decided to keep this secret from Neal, and she would very well face the consequences of her actions, just as Rumald had all of his life. For better or worse, he had dealt the repercussions, so many times, he should have learnt his lesson.
"I better go." She muttered, gesturing to the open doorway with her hand, and strolled pass him, eyeing him over her shoulder.
Letting out a small sigh, Rumald's brow knitted together, as he thought about his own misdeeds with his son. It had been a belittling experience for Rumald, to ask Neal, for forgiveness. A man, so focus on not looking weak, to anyone, had done the most difficult thing in his life, throwing himself, at the mercy of his own son. The experience had made him face his true self, the coward, who would have rather thrown someone under a bus, than confront his own faults. He squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself, that he had promised to change.
"Miss Nolan." He called her name and turned, to see her stood on the threshold of his doorway. "It'll be difficult, but…" Rumald looked away from her, taking a breath to stem the build-up of emotion he felt, and looked back to her, telling her. "You've just got to hang in there. Neal's very forgiving."
Emma smiled at him. "Thank you."
Rumald acknowledged her thanks, with a nod of his head, and watched, as she stepped out of his shop and ambled by his shop window, glimpsing back through the window at him. Hearing Dove's footsteps, he angled his head, to see Dove approaching him, his gaze on Emma as she walked out of sight.
"What would you like to do, about Mr Phipps?" Dove inquired, coming to standstill behind Rumald.
Rumald turned his head away from Dove, surveying the destruction. "Let them do their investigation." He parted his overcoat, putting his hands onto his hips. "He isn't going anywhere."
"As you wish." Dove said.
"Actually, Dove," He pivoted round to face Dove. "I'm going to pop home and change. If you can make a start on this," He said, waving a hand to the mess. "I'll drop by the store on my way back and get some more trash bags."
"Course, sir." Dove nodded his head at Rumald.
Straightening his overcoat, Rumald ambled out of his shop, careful where he stepped, and left his shop, to get into his car. Whilst he was walking to the driver's side of his car, Rumald threw his gaze across the street, hoping to see Belle before he climbed into his car. The clock on the tower, showed it was about ten past nine, meaning she should have been in the library. With his hand on top of his car door, he frowned as he looked at the library, unable to tell if she was there or not. The voice of doubt in the back of his mind, tried to sway him, that she regretted their night together, and had ran away from him as soon as she had awoken. Shaking his head at it, Rumald pushed the thought out of his head, whilst he climbed into his car to drive home.
Freshly showered, dressed in his three-piece suit, Rumald pulled up in the alleyway, beside his shop, and opened his door, letting himself out of the car. He shut his door, and immediately opened the rear passenger door, and grabbed a plastic bag from the backseat. Closing the rear passenger door, Rumald was stunned to see the side door, to his shop, was open, and walked through it into the front of the stop. He was astonished as he came into the shop, discovering Dove had hit the front of the shop hard, clearing a lot of the debris, which had been scattered about the shop, and had swept most of the glass up from the floor. There were small piles of dust, splintered pieces of wood and glass, dotted in different areas of the floor. Rumald placed the plastic carrier bag on what remained of his counter, casting his gaze around the room, pleased with the work Dove had done, while he had been gone. Scratching aimlessly at his beard, Rumald walked to the uncovered doorway, and went into the backroom, as Dove came in through the back door, carrying a large trashcan.
"You've done well." Rumald commented.
"Thank you, sir." Dove said, shutting the back door behind him.
Rumald removed his overcoat and suit jacket as one, and crossed the backroom, to hang them on the coat stand, telling Dove. "I'll make us a drink, and then I'll come and help you."
Dove put the trashcan down, suggesting to Rumald. "It might be worth, you doing a stock check, sir, while I tend to clearing up."
"That's not a bad idea." Rumald remarked to Dove, with his hand on the kettle, about to check the water level.
"I've already printed out a recent stocklist for you." Dove said, hooking his thumb to the large printer, they kept on the shelving stack.
"Sounds like a plan." Rumald agreed to Dove's suggestion, and clicked the kettle on to boil, while he grabbed their mugs from the shelf.
Picking up the trashcan, and collecting the dustpan and brush on his way, Dove went through into the front of the shop, leaving Rumald alone in the backroom. The backroom was not as bad as the front of the shop. Items had mostly been knocked off the shelf, with much of the damage, emanating from when Rumald had previously lost his temper, taking a cane to the defenceless items. 'Going to be an expensive month.', he thought, putting the needed ingredients into their mugs.
While he waited for the kettle to finish boiling, he went to the printer, and grabbed the printout Dove had done for him, reading down the list as he went back to the small kitchenette. Nearing the kitchenette, Rumald's phone shrilled out, from his inside pocket of his suit jacket. He diverted himself to the coat stand, hearing the kettle click behind him, as he slipped his hand into the inside pocket, of his suit jacket, and pulled out his phone to answer it.
"Gold." He responded, drifting over to the kitchenette, his gaze on the printout in his hand.
"Hey Rumald." Jefferson greeted. "Weren't you coming over today?"
Rumald rolled his eyes at himself, laying the printout onto the counter, of the kitchenette, and poured the kettle into the two mugs. "Sorry, Jefferson, I completely forgot to call you. The shop was broken into last night, so I'm here with Dove, sorting through the mess."
"Oh, god. You okay? Nobody got hurt, did they?" Jefferson asked, his voice full of concerned.
"Yeah, everyone's fine. Neither of us were here." Rumald told him, as he placed the kettle back onto its stand.
"I had a break in, a few years ago now, and it was awful." Jefferson shared with him. "Just make sure to get onto your insurance, ASAP. They love taking your money off of you, but they're very slow, when it comes to paying out."
Rumald stirred the drinks, saying to Jefferson. "Yeah, I can imagine."
"Did they take much?" Jefferson inquired.
"No, it looks more like they just trashed the place, but we're going to do a stock check anyway." Rumald said as his answer, and picked up Dove's mug, to take through into the front of the shop.
"Oh…" Jefferson paused. "Who've you pissed off?"
Rumald chuckled at Jefferson's question, handing off Dove's drink to him, and walked back into the backroom, retorting with his own question. "Who haven't I pissed off?"
It was Jefferson's turn to laugh. "Suppose you've got a point."
"I already know whose done it, but we'll see what the Sheriff says." Rumald remarked, stood by the kitchenette counter, lifting up a page of the printout, continuing to read the list of stock.
"Who?" Jefferson immediately asked.
Rumald breathed out heavily through his nose, and said. "Belle's ex."
"Well, that would make sense." Jefferson commented and then changed the subject of their conversation. "Have you spoken to Belle?"
Letting go of the piece of paper, Rumald smirked, thinking of Belle, as he said. "We've spoken… Somewhat."
"What does that mean?" Jefferson questioned, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"Nothing." Rumald told him, removing the smirk from his face. "We've spoken, but we've probably got a lot more talking to do."
"But at least, you're talking!" Jefferson became enthusiastic, as he spoke.
His lips tweaked into a smirk. "Yes, there is that."
"What?" Jefferson asked, hearing something in Rumald's tone.
"No, I'm agreeing with you. It's good, that we're talking." Rumald summarised their conversation.
Jefferson did not say anything for a few seconds, before he said. "Anyway, enough about your love life. Should I expect you in New York, in the next couple of days?"
"Erm…" Rumald turned his gaze to the front of the shop, looking pass his shop to the library in his mind's eye. "I'm not sure yet."
"I understand, you've got things there, that you need to take care of, but I would appreciate you being there, Rumald." Jefferson imparted to Rumald. "This is the biggest thing, I've done businesswise in over ten years and I had Priscilla supporting me back then. I just…" Rumald heard him take a breath. "I could really do with someone by my side at the minute."
Rumald felt deeply for his friend, understanding from first-hand experience, what it was like to need someone, but had learnt a long time ago, as a young boy, to only rely on himself. Watching his father drive away, abandoning him with his aunts, had been the foundation for Rumald, to strive to do things on his own and stand on his own two feet, without needing anyone else's help. Except with this drive to do things on his own, Rumald had developed a hard shell to the world, taking out his resentment for his father on those, who dared to cross him. He liked to think, he was still that hard cruel man, who had married Milah. The man, who Milah and Cora had both fallen in love with, however his fondness for his son, had softened his callous resolve.
Throwing his hand up into the air, Rumald heard himself say. "Give me a day or two. Any problems, just call and I'll get on the first flight."
"Thank you, Rumald." Jefferson sounded relieved.
"You don't need to thank me." Rumald told him, as his top lip curled, hating it when people thanked him. "I'm your business partner, if it wasn't for the break in, I'd be there with you."
"Okay, but I'm grateful for your help, Rumald." Jefferson told him, while Rumald pressed his lips into a thin line, with Jefferson going on to say. "Anyway, I better go and catch my flight. The driver should be getting into New York, in the next hour or so."
Rumald nodded his head at Jefferson, even though he could not see him, and said. "Message me, if there's any problems."
"I will." Jefferson said goodbye and ended the call.
Holding his hand out in front of him, Rumald spied down at his phone before he slipped it into his pocket, while at the same time, he collected his drink from the counter. He drank from his lukewarm coffee, whilst he picked up the stocklist, and moseyed through into the front of the shop. Without thinking about it, Rumald went to put down his mug on the broken glass counter, but caught himself, before he spilled the contents of his mug into the display unit. Dove came through the side door, as Rumald went to the front of the shop, putting his mug and the stocklist on top of an antique sideboard. He scratched at his beard, hating his beard, as he picked up the first page of the stocklist, turning to back round to the shop, ready to start his search for the items on the list.
