Throwing the thicker end of his tie over the smaller end, wrapping it twice, Rumald fed the larger end of his tie up through the loop around his neck and tucked it down through the knot he had formed with his tie. He walked a couple of steps to the full length mirror, eyeing his reflection, as he pulled through the rest of the tie. Belle had asked him to dress somewhat casually, but facing the Nolans without his trusty armour seemed foolish. Working the knot of the tie up to his collar and giving the longer length one precise tug, Rumald turned down his collar, checking in the mirror that his tie was not too long. He had considered foregoing his suit completely, throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt as Neal had suggested, but with Mary-Margaret staring daggers at him across the room, he needed some layers between them. Unhooking his waistcoat from its hanger, he slipped his arms into the openings and shrugged it up onto his shoulders, straightening and tugging his sleeves, whilst turning to view himself in the mirror.
Smoothing his hands down the front of his waistcoat, he casted his gaze back up his reflection until he met his own gaze in the mirror. He could see what everyone else saw: the landlord, the confident man, the town's villain. If only they knew, just behind the veil of that image, which they feared so much, was a coward. The thought disgusted him, the man he was repulsed him, so he tore himself away from the image of himself and marched out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving his negative thoughts in his room. Belle had worked too hard, preparing the house and everything else for tonight, for him to lose himself in his own inner turmoil.
And if he did drown himself in his own self-loathing, Cora would win.
As he adjusted his cufflinks and shirt sleeves, Rumald started down the hallway, eyeing Neal's bedroom door he had left ajar. He was about to descend the stairs, when he glimpsed back at the open door, hearing the obscured sound of paper rustling. Neal was probably wrapping the presents he had mentioned earlier, when he had come to Rumald's study, interested in stealing a roll of wrapping paper from him. Funny how two had disappeared instead of just one. Leaving Rumald the task of wrapping Belle's last gift, with an odd oblong shape piece of paper, which had hardly covered the edges of the box. He had been forced to patch it with the offcuts he had thrown away, not wanting to draw Belle attention to what he was doing in his study.
Turning with his hand on the banister, Rumald went down the shorter flight of stairs, stooping in height to see through into the living room. Belle was not where he had left her, sat in front of the fire, nose in a book. He swung off the end of the banister into the kitchen, his momentum carrying him through the opening, finding Belle was not there either. Pursing his lips in thought, he carried on through, cutting through into the dining room, finding the table laid, candles lit, bottle of red opened and no Belle. Curious, he turned back into the kitchen and investigated the cooker, where several pans were happily simmering, lids titled letting out the steam, while they waited for their guests to arrive.
"Belle?" Rumald called, walking back to the entryway, checking the living room again. "Belle?"
"I'm up here." A distant voice called down from upstairs.
"Do you want me to do anything?" He asked at the bottom of the stairs, tilting his head back to look to the floor above, half expecting to see her at the railing above.
There was a loud thud in Neal's room that snapped Rumald's gaze to the living room ceiling. "Are you okay, Neal?"
"Yep!" Neal said rather quickly. "Shoe fell off my bed."
"Must have been a rather big shoe." Rumald commented to himself, lifting his gaze to the floor above. "Belle, do you want me to do anything?"
"Erm…" He heard her heels clicking on the floorboard before he saw her suddenly appear at the railing above. "No, everything should be fine. I'll be down in a minute." Then she was gone again, hurrying back to wherever she was upstairs, her heels clicking a path to Neal's room.
Crooking his right eyebrow, Rumald stepped back from the stairs and went into the living room, curious as to what those two were doing upstairs as he poured himself a short whiskey. He sat down into the nearest armchair, crossing his right leg over his left, and sipped his drink. Licking the exquisite taste from his lips, he balanced the glass onto the arm of the chair, inspecting the large Christmas tree Belle had put up in the living room. Having a tree, when he was younger, was a luxury his aunts' could not afford. The monstrosity Belle had procured, dominated the living room, but with the tasteful decorations she had hung on it, it fitted in nicely with the rest of the décor. His aunts would have loved what Belle had done with it, like they had the first Christmas Rumald was able to treat them to a proper tree. Tinsel, lights, baubles, candy cane, crackers – Whatever had been available, he had bought, bringing home several bags full of decorations, wanting to give them a Christmas they would never forget. Gazing at the tree, Rumald could clearly see their faces, stunned and amazed at the massive tree he had brought home for them.
Christmas had not meant much without Neal. The years they had spent apart, Rumald had not had the heart to put up a Christmas tree and decorations. It was a holiday for family. Not for a failed father to spend mourning the loss of his son, staring at the twinkling lights of the tree, surrounded by Christmas cheer. It was certainly odd to see his house decorated.
To Rumald, it was too much, but he loved Belle's keenness for everything to be perfect for their first Christmas. Milah and Cora would never have gone to such lengths. The tree would have been put in the corner of the living room, some decorations would have littered the room and that would have been enough for either of them. Belle on the other hand, had the enthusiasm of a child, when it came to Christmas. He could not remember a time he got excited about Christmas. So seeing the joy on her face, when she and Neal were hanging some more decorations had been heart-warming.
The doorbell ringing out, broke his reverie and drew his attention to the entryway. Taking in a swift breath, Rumald knocked back the rest of his whiskey and got up out of his chair, putting his empty glass on the coffee table on his way to the front door. He was a few steps from the entryway, when he heard the clicking and clacking of her heels, hurrying down the stairs, her curls bouncing wildly as she came down the stairs.
"Wait, I'm coming." Belle said, excitedly, grinning like a fool when she glimpsed up from the stairs at him. "I'm coming!"
"You'll break your neck running down those stairs in those heels." He warned her, crossing the threshold into the entryway, beating her to the front door.
As he opened the door, letting in a gust of cold air, Belle bumped into the back of him, nudging him into the edge of the front door. Turning his head enough to see her beside him, he gave her a small playful glare as she shone a smile at him and placed her hand on the crest of his backside. The contact unintentionally straightened his back. He loved it, when she touched him, giving him small doses of confidence and laying claim to him. Belle had received some strange looks from people, when they had seen them in the store, Belle's hand lingering on his back, his arm, his shoulder or hovering near his butt, giving it a sneaky pinch when she fancied it.
"David, Mary-Margaret, Emma, Henry." Belle greeted, beaming them all a welcoming smile. "Come on inside." She told them, gesturing with her free hand for them to come inside. "There's some wine open, or there's some beer in the fridge, or soda for young Henry."
"Can't I have a beer, mum?" Henry asked, walking backwards into the house, talking to his mother.
Emma spun him round and pushed him further in the entryway, shuffling quickly in behind him. "Not tonight, kiddo."
"Rumald." The Sheriff greeted him, nodding his head at Rumald as he entered.
"Sheriff." He said, returning the gesture.
Moving his gaze to Mary-Margaret, she was already looking at him as she entered, already staring daggers at him, wishing the most painful death for him, wanting to jump up and down on his grave. Rumald met her gaze evenly, unfazed by her death glare, and closed the door as soon as she was in the house and clear of the door. Belle had engaged hostess mode and was taking their coats and scarfs, hanging them on the pegs behind Rumald. Mary-Margaret broke her glare to unwind her scarf from around her neck and was met with Rumald's hand, when she looked up. Her gaze slowly followed his arm from his hand, and up to his face.
"May I take your scarf and coat?" He remained cool.
Her eyes darted from his face to his hand and back. "Sure."
She laid the scarf in the palm of his hand, closely watching him, expecting him to attack her. Whatever this young woman believed, Rumald would not hold it against her. Everyone who had come into contact with Cora, had been tainted or marked in some manner, except all the hatred Mary-Margaret should have directed towards Cora, she put onto Rumald. She was not the first and she would not be the last to hate him.
"Thank you." Mary-Margaret said, though it sounded strained, as she hooked the collar of her coat onto the end of his hand.
Being a good host, he smiled at her before he pivoted round and hung her coat and scarf, joining all the other coats and scarfs, and hats on the hooks. When he turned back, he stayed near the front door, while the others followed Belle through into the kitchen and motioned to take a seat in the sitting area. The deeper they ventured into his house, the more restless he felt. He had never let anyone but family and Cora into his house. The times Dove came over, he stayed in the foyer, while Rumald prepared whatever it was Dove had come to collect. Knowing he had to grin and bear it, Rumald gave the hem of his waistcoat a harsh tug, pulling himself into line, and trailed after the others into the kitchen.
"Anyone want a drink?" Belle asked, moving a large serving plate, with different nibbles and dips arranged on it, from the kitchen counter to the coffee table in the middle of the sitting area.
"I'll have a glass of white wine, please, Belle." Mary-Margaret said with a smile, sitting down next to her husband on the couch.
Belle twisted to look at Rumald. "Could you get that for me?"
"Course, sweetheart." Rumald started towards the kitchen. "Anyone else?"
"I'm on call, but what the hell, one beer won't hurt!" The Sheriff declared to everyone, with his wife raising sceptical eyebrow at him.
"Emma?" Rumald looked back over his shoulder as he opened the fridge to retrieve the open bottle of white wine and a bottle of beer.
Standing uncomfortable in front of the fireplace, Emma stood with her hand on her hips, eyes wide like she had been caught in the headlights of a truck. "Erm…" She paused to think. "Beer, please."
He gave her a single nod of his head, acknowledging her order, and hooked another beer onto his left hand with a single finger, and nudged the fridge door shut with his elbow. While he busied himself with opening the two beers and pouring a glass of wine for Mary-Margaret, he half listened to them talking, thankful he had something to do instead of being forced to make conversation with them.
"Neal'll be down in the minute." Belle informed them, while she moved some of her books from the coffee table to the breakfast table in the small alcove.
Emma hooked her thumb in the direction of the stairs. "Is okay, if I pop up and see him?"
"Course, it is." Belle ushered Emma to go with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure, you know where his bedroom is."
Rumald rolled his eyes at the comment as Emma said, leaving the room. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Dad said, he's moving back to Storybrooke." Henry stated to the room.
"Yes, well, Neal does have a habit of running, when things become… Complicated." Mary-Margaret commented.
Snapping his gaze to the living room, ready to come to the defence of his son, Belle said. "As I understand, things were a little more than complicated at work and, plus, moving back means he gets to see more of Henry." She smiled touching Henry's shoulder, who titled his head up to look at Belle, sharing her smile, then Belle added, turning her attention onto Mary-Margaret. "And that would be good for Henry and Emma, don't you think?"
A broad smirk pushed back his cheeks, while he stared in awe of young woman, who had been gracious to allow him into her life. In that moment, he loved her more than he had loved anyone else in his life. Having been with someone, who only had negative things to say about his son, created animosity and a tension that had driven father and son apart, it was thrilling to be with someone that cared about his son, would defend his son and, knowing Belle, would be there for Neal, no matter what happened between him and Belle.
"Yes, definitely good for them." The Sheriff agreed, giving his wife a pointed look beside him.
Henry was oblivious to the underlying tension as he told them. "Dad said, he's going to take me fishing in the spring and we can stay the weekend at Mr Gold's… I mean, Grandpa's cabin."
Rumald's hands fumbled, spilling a small measure of the white wine over the rim of the glass and wet his fingers. Hearing Henry call him 'Grandpa' was strange to hear. Hell, hearing anyone call him 'Rumald' twitched his ears at times. Years of people calling him 'Mr Gold' or 'Gold' had become the norm for him. Casting his eyes over to Henry, who was telling Belle, what his father had told him about Rumald's cabin and how large the fish were in the lake at the back of the cabin, emphasising his point by stretching out his arms to show her. A hint of a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, liking the sound of being someone's grandpa.
Then a thought, which had not crossed his mind in decades, bulldozed through to the forefront: He would like to be a dad again. His eyes bulged, surprised at having such a thought. Gradually his gaze moved from young Henry to Belle, laughing at whatever outrageous story Neal had told Henry of his first fishing experience.
It would be natural for Belle to be thinking about having children. Whereas Rumald had thought about them since he was with his first wife. Cora had made it quite clear, she did not want the ones she already had, never mind trying to have children with him. However, Belle… She could want children. Giving him, not only a chance to be a better man, but a chance to be a better father, to be the father he should have been to Neal. His smile grew as he realised she could be the mother of his next child, a gift he more than anyone did not deserve.
"I didn't realise you were brewing the beer, Rumald." The Sheriff joked, twisting on the couch to see Rumald in the kitchen.
"What?" Rumald snapped his gaze to the Sheriff, then looked down at his hands, holding the nearly empty bottle of wine and half poured glass of wine. "Sorry, I'll bring them straight over."
He topped up the glass of wine, snapped the remaining cap off the sealed bottle of beer and took the glass of wine and bottle of beer to the Sheriff and Mary-Margaret. Taking the bottle of beer from Rumald, the Sheriff flashed a smile and winked his eye, and drank from his beer, while his wife scrutinised the offered glass of wine and the person delivering it before she took the glass from Rumald, and put it down on the coffee table.
"I'll be back in a second. Just going to check on the dinner." Belle excused herself and cut across the sitting area, not able to resist touching him as she walked past him and through into the kitchen.
Following her into the kitchen, he grabbed the nearly empty wine bottle and recorked it, watching her with a lovesick grin on his face as she lifted lids on saucepans and opened the oven door, letting an incredible smell waft out of it. Belle closed the oven, pivoting round at the same time, and stopped with her hand on the bar for the oven door, when she saw the look on his face.
"What?" She questioned, tilting her head, crooning a quizzical eyebrow.
He shook his head at her as he moved to return the bottle of wine to the fridge, telling her. "Just admiring the beautiful woman in my kitchen."
It was her turn to shake her head at him, while he opened the fridge and put the bottle back in the door. "Such a sweet talker."
"No, sweetheart." Rumald closed the fridge door and took the minute step to be closer to her. "Just the honest truth."
'The honest truth' was too close to the actual truth. His heart sank, weighed down with the deception he was keeping from all of them. No matter how many times he told himself, it would all work out in the end and he was doing this for them, it did not stop him from feeling guilty.
Belle appeared to melt at his remark before she wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoed up the short distance and planted a firm kiss to his lips. His hands instantly went to her waist, keeping her from moving away, and kissed her back, latching his lips onto hers, wanting the kiss to never end. She hummed her approval of his kiss. One of her hands moved to the back of his head, ruffling his hair as she held his head in place. Caressing his hands around to her back, snaking one down to her backside as the other moved up her back, pressing the top half of her body to his, Rumald forgot all about their guests, the lies he had told, the secrets he kept. All he could think about was taking the woman in his arms upstairs and making love to her until they were both spent, and fell asleep in each other's arms.
Pulling her lips away, Rumald inclined his head forward, chasing her lips, when he felt her hand slide down from his neck to press on his chest. "Rumald, we've got guests."
He opened his eyes and peered over to the guests in the sitting area, and said to her in a low voice. "I've got no problem with kicking them out."
Belle scoffed and slapped her hand against his chest, scolding him. "Behave."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked at her, when he turned his gaze back to her, skimming his hand down her back to join his other on her butt.
"If you're a good boy," She said before leaning forward, so she could whisper directly into his ear. "I'll let you have one of your gifts early."
"That is a very tempting offer, but I do have an inclination to be a bad boy." He said as she pulled back.
Sucking in her lower lip, she bit into the plush flesh, reddening her pink lip, and said. "It's one of the things that turns me on."
His breath quickened, the desire to drag her upstairs was strong, even with their guests sitting feet away. The twinkle in her eyes and her body pressing further against him, told him she felt the same way. Drifting his eyes down from her face, Rumald could see the heated blush in her cheeks, traipsing down her neck to the top of her chest, lightly colouring her skin. Her body was so sensitive and gave so much away. Another thing he loved about her.
"Hey guys!" Neal announced, coming into the room, holding Emma's hand. "Sorry, I wasn't down to greet you. Finishing off some presents."
"Are they for me?" Henry asked, excitedly.
Neal chuckled at his son. "No, buddy."
Pecking a kiss onto Belle's lips, Rumald let go of her and picked up the beer he had opened for Emma earlier, and walked reluctantly away from Belle, taking Emma her beer. He held the bottle out to her, when he was near enough, and she took it from him with a flash of a smile.
"Neal, do you want a beer?" Rumald asked, hoping he could retreat back to the kitchen and stay there with Belle.
Holding his hand up at his father, Neal said. "No, I'm okay, dad."
"Can I have a soda, please?" Henry bounced in his chair as he spoke.
Rumald looked at his grandson. "A soda?"
"Please." Henry grinned.
"Would you like it with some ice?" Rumald inquired on his way into the kitchen.
"Yes, please." Henry responded quickly and asked. "Do you have any straws?"
Bewildered by the young man's question, he suddenly halted and swivelled on the ball of his foot, facing his grandson. "No… Is that a problem?"
Henry looked disappointed. "No."
His lips slanted into a lopsided smile, inwardly bubbling with emotion at seeing a look very much like Neal's in Henry's face. "I'll have some here for you, next time you come over."
"You will?" His grandson's eyes widened at the prospect.
"Course." He smiled genuinely at Henry.
Belle opened the fridge door, retrieving a can of coke for him, saying. "I'll remind him, next time we're at the store."
"I'll remember." Rumald dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand, joining her in the kitchen, and sidestepped past her, reaching for a glass from an upper shelf.
"Like you remembered to get some milk yesterday?" She threw the accusation at him, holding the unopened soda can towards him.
He took the can from her, more an exaggerated snatch, as he said. "And there was me thinking, you'd be pleased I sorted all my business affairs, giving me two weeks off."
"Oh, I am." She said as he moved around her, getting some ice from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. "I just would've appreciated milk in my coffee this morning."
"I'll give you something you'll appreciate more later." Rumald told her with a smirk, opening the can to pour its contents into the glass with ice in it.
"Can you two stop flirting?" Neal asked.
Pouring the last of the soda into the glass, Rumald looked at his son as he crossed the room, circling the sitting area to reach Henry, saying. "I think listening to a small amount of our flirting won't hurt you, Neal. Seeing as I had to hold my tongue with some of your ex-girlfriends."
"They were kissing earlier." Henry exposed them.
Directing his comment to Emma, Neal said. "I told you, they couldn't keep their hands off each other."
"I can relate." Emma swung a hand at her parents. "I'm always walking in on them."
"No one is stopping you from getting your own place." Mary-Margaret said, giving her daughter a disapproving look.
Bending down as he handed Henry his drink, Rumald said to him in a quiet voice, so only he could hear. "You're not supposed to dob me into your father."
Henry visibly gulped at Rumald. "I'm not?"
"No," Rumald smiled softly at him. "Not if you want me to live up to my end of the bargain of being your grandfather, by spoiling your rotten with expensive gifts, whenever I see fit."
"Oh…" Henry's lips pressed into thin line before he hurriedly announced to the room. "I was only kidding! I didn't see them kissing!"
Rumald stood up and turned to face his son, a knowing smirk on his lips, as his son pointed a finger at him. "Don't use your silver tongue on my son."
"Me?" Rumald gestured to himself. "Never."
Belle interrupted the conversation. "Would everyone like to move into the dining room? I'm going to start serving dinner now. Neal, can you give me a hand?"
"Sure." Neal said, already making his way to the kitchen area.
"Where're we going, Rumald?" The Sheriff queried as he stood up, beer in one hand, offering his other hand to Mary-Margaret once he was stood up.
"This way, David." He emphasised the use of the Sheriff's name, holding his arm out to direct everyone to the doorway at the rear of the kitchen.
Being cordial was becoming tiring. Rumald could see by the grin on the Sheriff's face, he was enjoying himself a little too much, throwing around Rumald's forename. The annoying thing was Rumald realised as he was leading them through the kitchen and into the dining room, now they were 'family', there would be a lot more social get-togethers in the future. Meaning the Sheriff would be making the most of being able to call him by his first name and Rumald would be subjected to Mary-Margaret's evil glares more often. Something Rumald was more than happy to do without. It was one of the reasons why he did not attend the town's social events, and he avoided his tenants, but he guessed he would be attending them more as Belle was very much a part of the town life.
Stopping near the head of the table, Rumald stood aside, motioning to the table with his hand. "I don't think there's a seating plan, so sit where you'd like."
Henry dived for the chair at the head of the table. "Can I sit here? I never get to sit at the head of the table."
"Henry, we're guests, we don't sit at the head of the table." Mary-Margaret put a hand on his shoulder, directing him away from the chair.
"If he wants to sit there, he can. No point us standing on ceremony." Rumald paused for effect. "We're technically family now." And smiled a devilish smile at her, loving the look of horror on her face.
"Great! Thanks, Mr… Grandpa." Henry did not pay any attention to his grandparents, too busy with taking the seat at the head of the table, before anyone else could claim it.
Deep creases formed across Mary-Margaret's forehead, while she gave him an icy glare. A curt bow of his head and Rumald left the room as the Sheriff and Emma came in, one carried a large serving plate with the hunk of meat Belle had cooked on it and the other brought in the gravy jug and large serving bowl of vegetables. He eyed the food as he squeezed past them, his mouth instantly watered at the sight and smell of the food. His right hand covered his stomach, nursing the rumblings of hunger.
What did not escape his attention, was the suspicious look Emma gave him on the sly, whilst she followed her father into the dining room. Rumald's gaze followed her, from where he stood in the opening to the kitchen, observing her as she put the gravy jug and large bowl in the centre of the table, passing comment on how nice the table had been laid. There was something behind her gaze. A question she was seeking an answer to and he suspected he had the answer she wanted.
"Rumald, can you grab this bowl of mashed potatoes?" Belle questioned, motioning with her hands towards a large white bowl, while she dried them on a tea towel.
"Yep." He replied as he scooted across into the kitchen, missing Neal, who was taking a large plate of assorted roasted vegetables through.
Picking up the bowl with both hands, Rumald noticed a smaller bowl with stuffing, which he picked up after shifting the larger bowl to hug it to his chest. "Are you sure you made enough food?"
"Don't you think there's enough?" Belle whipped round from the sink, bumping into him, distress clear in her voice.
"Sweetheart, I'm teasing." He offered her a reassuring smile. "There's plenty of food and it smells and looks divine. It's perfect."
"You sure? I could quickly throw some cold meats onto a plate?" She suggested, pointing at the fridge.
"No, there's plenty." After awkwardly stooping into her, a quick peck to her cheek, he added. "Come on, I'm starving and the sooner we eat, the sooner everyone leaves." Rumald nodded his head in the direction of the dining room, gesturing for her to follow, and took through the mashed potatoes and stuffing, placing them in the middle of the table nearest Henry's place setting.
"Belle, this looks amazing." Mary-Margaret complimented Belle, when she came through, standing beside Rumald at the table, leaning over the table to put down two bowls, the smaller one had cranberry sauce in it and the other larger one had cauliflower and cheese.
Belle smiled at the compliment, yet Rumald could see her uncertainty hindered it from being a full blown smile. "Thank you, but Neal helped as well. It was a joint effort."
"Either way, it looks great. But can we dig in now?" The Sheriff asked, leaning forward, salivating over the display of food.
"David!" Mary-Margaret admonished, nudging her elbow into her husband's ribs, causing him to jump back in his seat.
The Sheriff looked at his wife. "What? I might get called out any minute."
Belle chuckled. "It's fine." She touched Rumald's left forearm. "Can you slice the beef, please?"
"Yes, ma'am." Rumald scooted around her, heading to the other head of the table, where the plate with the meat on it had been placed.
"Good boy." She whispered as he sidestepped behind her.
He gave her a sidelong glance. Smirking, Belle pulled out the chair beside Neal, who was sitting next to Emma, who was next to Henry at the head of the table. Amused, a sly smile pulled back the left side of his mouth, enjoying Belle's playfulness. The distraction was welcomed. Seeing as he had to get through two or three more hours of the Nolans company.
Moving his empty plate to one side, Rumald moved the plate with the beef to his place setting and picked up the carving knife and fork, asking everyone. "Does anyone have any preferences?"
The Sheriff thrusted his plate across the table. "I'll take the first couple of slices. I love the outside pieces. Mary-Margaret prefers the softer slices."
"Right." Rumald stretched to claim the offer plate, his gaze drifted to Mary-Margaret, meeting her cold and indifferent gaze, and thought, 'This is going to be a long evening.'.
Putting the Sheriff's plate down beside his place setting, Rumald started to carve, giving the Sheriff three generous sized slices of the beef. A procession of plates was passed to him, each served with a portion of meat and passed back. By the time, it came to serving himself, the large joint of beef had become a small hunk of meat. Picking it up with the carving fork, Rumald served himself the remains of the beef and exchanged his plate with the large serving plate, and finally sat down at the table. Everyone was humming their enjoyment as they dug into their meals, eagerly loading their forks with the next delicious mouthful. Rumald reached for items nearest to him, dishing himself some roasted and boiled vegetables, and was contemplating how to get the other dishes at the other end, when Belle presented him in turn with each dish from the other end.
"Thank you, sweetheart." Rumald captured her hand after passing back the last dish, giving her hand a squeeze.
She turned her hand over, inside of his grip, and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze back, smiling at him. Lifting her hand up, Rumald leant over and gently kissed her knuckles, and lingered with his lips touching her skin, gazing at her over the back of her hand. Her smile widened, deepening her dimples and making her eyes glisten – No one had ever looked at him with so much love before. Another one of his many reasons, why he couldn't tell her the truth. Too frightened and selfish to risk the chance of her changing the way she felt about him. With two failed relationships under his belt, both ending for different reasons, but both leaving him with more insecurities, he would not risk losing her. Not when she meant so much to him. It was obvious, when he had caught himself looking at engagement rings, when he had been at the mall, picking out Christmas presents. There was no mistaking anymore how he felt about her. Which meant what they had was too precious to lose and had to be guarded at all costs.
The dinner had been a success and after everyone helped clear the table, stacking the dishes in the kitchen, everyone moved to the sitting area. Neal had taken it upon himself to be host, getting everyone another round of drinks and entertaining them with tales. Sleeves rolled up, Rumald rinsed off the dishes, handing them to Belle behind him to stack into the dishwasher. There had been quite a stack of plates, cutlery and cooking utensils, but between them, they ploughed through it, leaving a few things to soak in the sink overnight. A gentle hand on Belle's lower back, a glass of wine each, Rumald followed Belle to the sitting area, taking a seat in the vacant armchair as Belle squeezed onto the end of the couch with Nolans.
Neal was stood in front of the fireplace, in the middle of telling a story. "So your mum decided to get her own back and filled my locker with water bombs, so when I next opened my locker, they would all tumble out and get me." A wide grin spread across his face like wildfire. "Except, it was locker inspection day and my locker was one of the ones selected."
"Oh, no…" Belle held her hand up to her mouth, covering her smirk.
"What happened? What happened?" Henry urged, bouncing up and down in the opposite armchair.
Emma looked away, ashamed, as Neal finished his story. "Mrs Collins opened my locker and the… How many did you wedge in there, again?"
"Fifty-three." Emma mumbled.
"How many?" Neal prodded her, mocking her by holding a hand to his ear to hear better.
Emma snapped at him, smirking as she repeated herself. "Fifty-three!"
"And fifty-three water bombs dropped onto the floor in front of Mrs Collins, wetting her shoes, her legs, the bottom of her skirt." Neal looked directly at Emma. "She was not a happy bunny."
"And now we trust her to uphold the law and keep the peace in our small community." Rumald teased before he sipped his wine, unable to hide his grin when Emma glared at him.
Mary-Margaret lifted her nose up. "I'm sure, there's plenty in our pasts, we all are a little ashamed of. Don't you think, Rumald?"
Lowering his wine glass, Rumald met her cool look, undeterred by the meaning behind her comment. If he could get her to understand how guilty he felt for everything, it would still not be enough for her. She wanted blood, sweat and tears from him, and he did not blame her. Rumald bowed his head forward, casting his gaze down into his wine glass, letting her have a small victory in their one-sided battle. He feared the guilt he harboured for Neal, for Regina, for Belle, for everything he had done in the past to help Cora, would never be put to rest.
A phone shrilled to life. Everyone stopped their conversations, eyes looked at each person in turn, searching for the source of the disturbance. The Sheriff shifted on the couch, rolling partially onto left hip, and dug his hand into his jeans, struggling to pull out his phone. Seeing he was having trouble, Mary-Margaret grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged on it, helping him to get his hand back out of his jeans. Smiling his thanks at his wife, the Sheriff answered the call, ending the annoying ringtone, and put the phone to his ear.
"Did Mrs Collins find out who did it?" Henry inquired, returning everyone to Neal's story.
"No, thank God." Emma spoke before Neal could answer.
Neal shrugged a shoulder. "It wasn't from a lack of trying. She had the whole school in the gym, trying to find out, who'd put the water bombs in my locker. It didn't help, when it came time for the next locker inspection, everyone had put water bombs in their lockers."
Henry laughed. "Everyone?"
"It went on for months." Emma shared. "I wish I'd never done it. I could've died every time she opened a locker."
Belle said, after a short chuckle. "At my school, some of the seniors locked the teachers in their lounge. Problem was, their lounge was on the third floor, so they couldn't even climb out a window."
"Kids will be kids." Rumald commented.
"I bet you pulled some pranks, when you were younger." Belle reached across, shoving Rumald's arm.
"A good prankster never tells." He said, laying his hand on his chest to indicate himself.
"Right, okay, I'll be there shortly, Graham." The Sheriff sounded serious as he stood up and hung up the phone, turning enough to face Mary-Margaret. "Rabbit Hole."
Mary-Margaret rolled her eyes. "As usual."
"I'm going to have to get straight down there." He told his wife and turned to the rest of them to say. "I'm sorry, everyone, but I've got to go, but it's been a great evening and thank you very much, Rumald and Belle, for the exceptional meal and company."
"Belle deserves all the thanks." Rumald rejected the compliment, directing the praise to Belle with a wave of his hand.
Mary-Margaret stood. "If you're going, then I might as well come with you."
"Are you sure? You can stay a bit longer, if you want." The Sheriff said, touching Mary-Margaret's arm.
"I've got some things at home to sort out for tomorrow. I said before we came I didn't want to stay late." Mary-Margaret reminded him before knocking back the rest of her white wine.
"Did you…?" A look passed between them. "Yes, sorry, I forgot."
Emma then stood up, putting her beer bottle on the coffee table, joining her parents drinks. "If you guys are going, then me and Henry might as well come too."
"Do we have to? I want to hear more of dad's stories!" Henry complained, grabbing onto Neal as though he could tether himself to his father.
"If Mary-Margaret doesn't mind, I'll come home with you guys and drop off your presents, so you have them for the morning. Plus, your mother and I have some things we need to discuss." Neal shared his gaze between Mary-Margaret and Henry, down at his side.
Belle leant forward and put her half drunk glass of wine on the coffee table, and stood up, saying. "I didn't realise everyone would be leaving so early."
Taking it as his cue to stand up, Rumald pushed himself up and out of the armchair, whilst the Sheriff shifted past Mary-Margaret and leaned into Belle, kissing her cheek. "It's my fault. I'm sorry. It's always the same Christmas Eve."
"It's okay." Belle told him with a kind smile.
"I'll just pop upstairs, I've got some gifts you can take with you." Rumald excused himself as he stepped around the armchair to go through into the entryway and up the stairs.
There were a set of very quick footsteps behind him. "I'll come and help you."
Halfway up the first set of stairs, he glanced back to see it was Emma following him. His early suspicion clawed its way back up his spine and sunk its teeth into his shoulder, whispering in his ear, 'This is it! She's seizing the opportunity to get the answer to her burning question'. His lips tightened into a thin line. Pivoting on his back foot, Rumald set off up the stairs with Emma close behind him.
The walk up the two flights of stairs felt like he was being marched to the gallows. His executioner was close on his heels, elated about the duty they were about to perform. At the top of the stairs to the library, Rumald glanced back at Emma, for a split second, before continuing to his study. Her footsteps skipped a step, but we're soon following him into his study.
"I forgot how big the library was." Emma confessed, hanging near the doorway to his study.
While her gaze drifted around his study, Rumald scrutinised her with a look, mulling over her comment for second meanings, innuendos, a clue to what she wanted. It was always obvious, when her father wanted something and Emma had inherited this fault. What Rumald did not want to do, is get into the same boat with her as he had done her father, owing favours back and forth.
"The larger bag is for Henry." Rumald informed her, bending over to pick up three of the gift bags. "There's a bag for you and one for your parents."
"Wow!" She exclaimed, eyes wide, looking at the three bags being presented to her. "That's very generous of you. We… I didn't think to get you a present."
Shrugging his shoulders, he said as he handed over the gift bags . "No matter."
"Thank you." Emma said sheepishly, taking the bags, and peered inside of them.
Unsure what to say to her, Rumald pressed his hands together, watching her inspect the bags as if there was a bomb inside of them. The gifts inside the bags were wrapped, so he was not sure what exactly she was expecting to see - eviction notices, balls of spun gold, dismembered body parts? Choosing to ignore her blatant mistrust in him, he stepped around her and was just in the doorway of his study when she spoke.
"Gold, can I ask where you were Tuesday morning?" Emma quizzed him.
Halting and angling his head to see her over his shoulder, Rumald slowly spun round to face her, wearing a mask of confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Tuesday morning, where were you?" She reiterated her question, accentuating each point.
"Working in my shop, of course." He half fibbed.
Very minute lines creased her forehead. "You didn't go to the town hall that morning?"
Keeping his features schooled, Rumald answered her question truthfully. "I popped in to see the Mayor on the way to work. I wasn't there for very long. Literally in and out, five minutes, tops."
"The Mayor was assaulted Tuesday morning." She stated the cold fact, probably expecting him to react.
"The Mayor? I heard he took a nasty fall. He was actually assaulted?" Pretending to be shocked, he blinked his eyes a few times, shaking his head in disbelief as he put his hands on hips.
Emma's gaze narrowed at him. "You didn't see anything unusual? Anyone hanging around outside? The Mayor wasn't acting strangely?"
"No, not what I can recall, but like I said, I only popped in." He said, reaching up to scratch the back of his head in thought.
Taking a step closer, she asked him another question. "Why were you there, anyway?"
"Me?" Rumald laid his hand on his chest, feigning he was hurt by her question. "You can't seriously think I had anything to do with it."
"I'm not ruling you out, like my father has. I'm not stupid. I know the two of you have some little agreement, just like you do with most of the town, including the Mayor, who's refusing to say who assaulted him." She disclosed, revealing her hand to him.
"Maybe he's refusing, because he did have an accident." He tried to reason with her, yet he could not help but admire her, for chasing after the truth.
Emma did not look convinced. "I will find out the truth and the evidence to go with it. This isn't over, Gold."
"Well… You know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere. Now," He half stepped back, turning to unblock the doorway. "Shall we rejoin the others?"
She did not say another word to him. Strolling passed him to the door, Emma did not even glance at him, her aim of following him upstairs was done. He held back until she was halfway to the stairs and followed after her. The tension he had managed to shed was back, hugging him so tight around his chest, he felt a little light headed. It had been pre-emptive of him to think he could see light at the end of the tunnel. He should have known, it was only time until everything came crashing down and he lost everything.