Thanks for the comments, guys!
The truth will come out soon, maybe not like in the movie. I'm thinking about straying a bit more from the original, I'll see.
"So what did your grandma said?" Violet asked as the waiter brought them dinner.
"That I am brave and daring to start my life anew."
"Well, she is quite poetic." she smiled, "You'll be fine."
He returned a tight lipped smile, "I know I will be. Eventually. I have you and-"
"God, I need to tell you something."
"What?" his eyebrows furrowed. She's been acting strange for days, maybe more. He was so caught up in his own problems that he couldn't be sure. But she surely couldn't still be mad he forgot to vote in the mayoral election, "What is it, Vi?"
"I- you are great, Henry."
"So are you." he replied, confounded.
"And I am grateful that you want to be with me..."
Wait! Was she breaking up with him?
"… and that you find me worthy of your love, but I am-"
Yup, it was the break up talk, "Not in love with me." he finished the thought. Her lips parted. The look of panic turned into one of confusion when he chuckled, "I'm not in love with you either."
"You don't love me?"
"No."
"But we are perfect for each other." she almost sounded insulted by the fact.
"I know! It's so weird. Um, is there someone else?" when she looked away, he knew, "Oh, that guy from the party, the one who helped with the article."
"Nothing's happened I swear, I would never cheat on you but... he's so passionate about the environment and he's a democrat."
He laughed, strangely ok with the situation. Everything seemed like a scene from an absurd play.
"What about you? Is there someone else?"
"No. no but..." he wondered, he hoped still, "There's the dream of someone else."
Within a week he closed his shop and he and Patch moved to the docks, into Killian's boat.
From: TruestBeliever
To: SeattleGirl67
Subject: Change
'People are always telling me that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all has happened.
My store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store, and in a week it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon it will just be a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person will probably think it's a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, or the way you can never count on it, or something. I know, because that's the sort of thing I'm always saying. But the truth is, I'm heartbroken. I feel like a part of me has died and no one can ever make it right.'
On the day of the closing, Henry, as the final sale was depressing enough, reached a mini breakdown of sorts. Grandma Belle told him to turn the occasion into a celebration . 'One chapter ended, another one beginning' she used kind of cheesy metaphor which coming from her sounded sweet and hopeful. His entire family offered to come and help but he politely refused. His moms offered to 'take care of the problem' which he didn't want to know what entailed, but he ordered them not to do anything. Bo and Alice were more than enough.
Bo brought the whiskey her grandpa occasionally sent from England. It was strong enough to burn through his intestines, he soon found out.
Alice turned up the music on her phone, some psychedelic tune, and was dancing while helping. He was grateful for it, it made him smile. She gave him a rook chess piece figurine. It's like the one her father gave her, she told him. He was family to her and she would always be there for him. He hugged her so tight, she begged him to let her go.
"See ya around, weirdo." she swatted him as they said goodbye.
As he locked the door of his little once sanctuary for what was the last time, he felt crushed. It did not feel like the end of a chapter, it felt like it was just the end. He turned the corner only to see the victorious Belfrey Books sign shine on his failure. It prompted him to go inside. It was time to face the music and admit defeat.
It was big and modern and full of people. And he really wanted to hate it. He ended up in the children's department, the one that brought him down. It had so much to offer, he saw as he was browsing the shelves, skipping occasionally over children sitting on the floor, enjoying books. And he just sat there, on a small red chair, across from a stuffed teddy bear.
"Do you have the shoe books?" he overheard a woman ask a salesman.
"Who's the author?"
"I don't know. A friend told me my daughter has to read them, so here I am."
"Noel Streatfield." Henry answered. Grandma Mary Margaret's favorite author, "He wrote 'Ballet shoes' and 'Skating shoes' and 'Theater shoes' and 'Dancing shoes'..." as he went on, his voice was cracking, "Um, I recommend to start with 'Ballet shoes'. On the other hand, 'Skating shoes' is wonderful, but it's out of print."
"Ok. How do you spell that?"
"S-T-R-E-A-T-F-" and that was that, he was sniveling. A grown man, in a children's department bookstore.
From the far corner, Ivy was watching the scene that would hang in the air all day. They all spoke of Henry Mills and his situation. The wonderful man, the children's literature connoisseur, unjustly tossed out on the street by the once and again store manager Ivy Belfrey.
"I simply should get more competent staff. No person working in that department should be unfamiliar with Noel Streatfield." she complained to Michael as they walked into her apartment building.
"Do you think he's selling? It's a shabby little place but location is everything."
"I wouldn't know."
"Well what else is he gonna do?"
"You mean now that he's destitute?"
He chuckled, "Thanks to you."
"I don't think he'd sell to you."
"Why not?"
"It' been in his family forever. I mean, everything there has been there forever... until recently."
"Thanks to you. Hold the elevator!"
They slid into it.
"Hello, Ms Belfrey. Mr Griffiths."
"Hello, Charlie." she greeted the elevator operator, the funny looking man with the baby face.
"It's so great how you've forgotten that you had a role in his situation."
Ivy rolled her eyes, "Again that word – situation."
"So obtuse, so insensitive. It reminds me of someone... who, though? Oh, right – me!"
His laughter was interrupted by a sudden jerk.
"What's happening?"
"We could be stuck." charlie answered and started pressing every floor button. It was like he was a child.
Ivy huffed, "What are you doing?"
"I hope this thing doesn't plummet to the basement."
"Can it do that?" a woman with a yapping dog asked.
"Of course not." Ivy picked up the phone and told reception to call the fire department. They will surely get them out fast.
An hour later, the four unlikely companions were sitting on the elevator floor. Five, if you count the chihuahua currently chewing on his owner's handbag.
"If I ever get out of here." the woman spoke, suddenly sounding very southern, "I'm gonna start speaking to my momma. I wonder what she's doing this very minute."
"If I ever get out of here." Charlie joined in, "I'm gonna marry Orit. I love her. I should marry her. I don't know what's been stopping me."
Ivy nodded, like giving some sort of approval. It prompted him to show her the picture of Orit. She was a catch.
"If I ever get out of here, I'm gonna get a phone with a good battery." Michael mumbled not looking up from the screen.
"If I ever get out of here..." what? She wondered what she would do. She wanted something to change in her life. Anything, for better or worse. She reached the point she didn't much care which. Perhaps- no surely she knew she should stop this neverending pity party she threw herself and do something. The thing was, she didn't know what exactly she wanted to do with her life. The elevator, she realized with the chuckle, was quite the fitting metaphor for her life right now. Buttons pressed for every floor possible, many different doors, different opportunities, and the elevator stuck, mid-nothing, "I'll-"
"Stupid phone!" Michael yelled as the screen went black. Feeling her staring at him, he looked up, "What?!"
She shook her head, "Nothing, absolutely nothing."
From: SeattleGirl67
To: TruestBeliever
Subject: Elevator
'I came home tonight and got into the elevator to go to my apartment. An hour later, I got out of the elevator and told my now ex partner to go back in. Suddenly, everything had become clear.
It's a long story. Full of the personal details we tend to avoid... Let me just say, there was a man sitting in the elevator with me who knew exactly what he wanted and I found myself wishing I were as lucky as he.'