Chapter 3 Golden Silence

'Miss French, I am sorry I deceived you, I had no intention of doing so-I just have some social anxiety that prevents me from speaking in front of strangers.'

He groaned. It didn't matter that he tried to imagine that the image in front of him had a button nose instead of a sharp one, beautiful curls instead of a stringy brown mop, or deep blue eyes instead of brown ones, he was not fooling himself one bit. He would never even be able to get out the first two words, let alone a whole phrase. He might as well practice the words 'I'm Sorry', for that would shatter the lie and share the general purpose of this practiced conversation in the mirror. However it happened, she would want nothing to do with a lying freak, so what did it matter how he said it?

He didn't even know why he even tried with the mirror. He had done something similar as a child to keep his father from focusing all his wrath on him. His father had been a con man-he could talk anyone out of their money. It was how Robby had learned the art of persuasion, however, he never had a taste for tricking people out of their hard earned money, even if he could have been able to string together more than three words out of his mouth. He had tried to make his father happy-had tried to use the mirror trick, he actually hoped his father's beatings would beat whatever he had out of him, anything to rid himself of this curse. His leg, a permanent reminder of his father's cruelty, was also a reminder that he carried more than one demon into adulthood and ones that would never fade with time.

He sighed, took one last self deprecating glance in the mirror and made himself go to bed, and ready himself to face Belle tomorrow. He had no idea what he was going to do. He had battled what to do the entire week, Jeff had said no more about it except to tease him the day before and ask if he needed to borrow his lucky pen. No, he was on his own, just like everything else in his pathetic life.

The building was warm as he used his id badge to get in that morning. The town he had settled in had no winter like he was used to, but the cold it did have was always the damp, bone chilling kind. It ate through to his very bones and made his old injury feel a hundred times worse. Brace or no brace, his limp was much more pronounced that day, which was all he needed as he was to face the beautiful woman he was lying to.

'You alright there? Playing up the whole Gramps' persona today aren't you?'

He replied by rolling his eyes and trying to use objects to lean up against.

'Little Beauty is coming today, isn't she?'

Robby ran his free hand through his hair as he clung on to a rail for the stairs to the lobby.

'Don't remind me.'

Jeff showed what it looked like to fling himself down the stairs without injury, and gathered the big sign announcing the display to its normal place in the lobby.

'I thought you would be excited to see her.'

Robby just groaned a response.

'You aren't going to tell her, are you?' Jeff looked at his hobbling co-worker warily.

'It's not a matter of intent-intent is meaningless if I literally can't tell her.'

'You want me to talk to her for you? I can say, hey! Gramps can totally speak, except to pretty girls who flutter their blue eyes his way, and really to people in general-then he really is mute. He hopes you can forgive him and how about a cup of coffee?'

Robby shook his head violently the entire time, panic seizing him at the thought of his 'friend' helping him. He made his way to the doors to open them, peeking outside just in case said pretty girl who fluttered her beautiful blue eyes decided to pay an earlier visit than she had previously said. No need to be caught unaware this time. She was not there, he regulated his breathing and braced himself against the ornate siding to keep himself standing-yes, today was going to be a rough one. He did his best not to slip on the wet sidewalk as he pulled back the accordion doors and groaned with each step. Back up the steps he went, and did his best to go about his normal Saturday routine, which mostly consisted of staying out of people's way. They were getting ready for an event for that evening -a wedding was happening in the upstairs room. Weddings, concerts, parties, artist galas were constantly happening in that room. It was little wonder-the high ceilings with ornate white flowers, dusted with gold, and set to a backdrop of dark blue with hanging golden chandeliers looked like something taken out of the Beauty and the Beast ballroom scene. There were event coordinators that were hired specifically for those sorts of things, but it was up to him and Jeff to oversee them, and to assist when needed. Apparently they and the wedding planner needed things out of their car, and had sent Robby out to help fetch said things. Jeff was busily chatting with a family with three unruly children. His eccentric charm oozed from every gaudy clad crevice and he had the group giggling at some comment he made.

Robby let out a wistful sigh as he attempted to keep away from anyone asking him questions while also heading out the side door to help try to tote things in with his bad leg. The ease with which Jeff spoke made Robby jealous. If he had just an ounce of Jeff's ability, he might have been a more loved son-not that the man who called himself a father deserved any affection in return, something he had learned over many years and via the hardest way possible. Perhaps he could have more than one friend in his life, and a friend who didn't call him Gramps and assume he was a 'boomer' and just 'lame'.

The cold rain his leg predicted was falling steadily now, and the ground beneath him was slick. He carefully walked over to the car and to gather up the said items the planners had specified. His leg and brace strained under the weight, slight though it was, and he had only gained a couple of steps before he could feel the ground give way beneath him. He was going ruin the small pillar he was carrying and lose everything in the bag that was draped on his arm, he was going to break his back, he was…

'Robby!' A musical voice cried out against the rain, and he felt slight arms and a firm but slight body underneath him to keep him from falling, helping to lift him back up onto his unsteady feet. 'There you go, are you okay?'

Robby turned to see his savior in the form of a curly haired, blue eyed angel, looking at him concerned, something he never remembered anyone doing before. Jeff took on things that he had trouble doing in a quiet sort of fashion devoid of sentiment, which Robby had always appreciated. This look was-new and a bit alarming. He had no idea what to make of it or what to do. His whole body froze, his cold hands began to sweat, his heart hammered in his chest painfully, to say nothing of his leg that was screaming at him to get a move on and set what he was holding down. This was also the moment he could tell Belle he was fine and it would alert her to the fact that he could indeed speak, and he had been lying to her, and she could leave, or talk to Jeff, which ever she chose to do, and he could go back to the way things had been when he just saw her when she visited the art exhibits-lurking in the shadows like a stalker.

Instead what he actually did was merely shake his head-he didn't even think he smiled, he honestly didn't feel in control of any of his movements. She, now a step away from him and getting herself cold and soaked in the meantime, placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile that was like a bit of summer sun in the cold rain.

'I'm glad! Here, would you like some help? I know I'm a couple of minutes early-good thing too, huh?' She giggled. He shook his head at the need for help-he was only a step or two away from the door anyway, and there was the elevator to take him up to the event room. She had done enough as it was, and he didn't want to look any more pathetic than he already did. He limped violently up the next step, and she reached involuntarily and placed her hands on his arm to steady him as he limped the rest of the way. It was a bit awkward, the whole thing, but it was, he had to admit, helpful. He could lean into her and allow her to shield some of the weight, and he was still able to carry the small pillar the rest of the way.

After they had gotten to the elevator, she let go of his arm and ran her fingers through her wet locks, her cheeks rosy from the cold outdoors. She had been wearing a thin coat and slid it off to reveal a blue sweater that so perfectly matched her eyes. Robby tried not to stare as she leaned up against the wall of the elevator, distracted by her hair, but he couldn't help it. She was beautiful. She looked up at him and caught his own dirty browns with her clear blues. He looked down as soon as he was caught, expecting her to get upset with his stares.

Instead she spoke with a pleasant tone, not a bit of annoyance to be found.

'This has me curious. Pillars from outside the building, tulle in a bag? What are you doing with it all?'

He looked up and his mouth gaped a bit-nothing vocal would come out, his brain just allowed words to swim around his head at random, no ability to speak was there. She raised her hand when she saw his distress.

'Don't worry! I am sure it will all be revealed,' She said this while waving her fingers dramatically. 'and when you put this where it needs to go, I can get my notebook back out, would that be okay?'

He did his best attempt at a smile and shook his head, her response was to throw another one of her ice melting smiles.

'Don't mind me if I talk too much, and if it's ever too much to reply in a notebook, just ignore me altogether.'

He knew he was giving her a slight smile then and shook his head. He could listen to her talk for ages. The fact that he was in such close proximity to the girl that he had boyishly had a crush on for two years seemed a marvel in and of itself. That the girl he only glanced at from a distance had a beautiful voice to match her beautiful face, and was so warm and friendly seemed too good to be true.

The pillar was deposited, and he was allowed to be left alone as the planners had gotten what they needed for the time being. Belle pulled out her notebook as they exited the room-the same one that they had used before.

'So it was a wedding, cool! Is it for tonight?'

He could shake his head at that.

'What other events do you do? I was at the Artist Spotlight Gala-that's his paintings out in the hall isn't it?'

He shook his head again and scribbled the other events that went on.

'Concerts! How neat! I'll have to attend the next one.'

'Not the next one.' he scribbled, a smirk rising in spite of himself. Something about the ability to speak through the notebook helped distance himself away from his usual nerves. 'It's a junior concert-everyone is between 10-18. It's not very good, I think only their parents enjoy it.'

She laughed at that, a very musical, beautiful laugh and he very much wished he could think of something else to make her do that again.

'So not the next one then.' She beamed. 'Do you attend them?'

He shook his head no. 'I normally work on something somewhere else-preferably away from people. I.' He paused here a moment before he could continue. She patiently waited for him to finish. 'I get very nervous around people.'

She looked up at him curiously and then smiled again.

'Well, you are doing very well with me.' She thought for a moment and her face wrinkled with worry.

'I'm not being a bother, am I? I'm so sorry if I am, I don't want to make you feel anxious.'

He shook his head and scribbled quickly.

'You're fine. You're an easy person to speak to.' His chest tightened as he wrote the last sentence, worried he said too much-she merely chuckled nervously.

'Well, that is a relief. You're quite easy to speak to as well. I do appreciate you doing this with me.'

He shrugged at the compliment and at the appreciation she felt. It was hard to believe anyone would want to speak to him, but she had made such an effort, and he would enjoy it for every second he was allowed.

'What else would you like to know?' he wrote.

'Oh! Yeah, well, could you give me a history of the building? I think I want to include that in the paper too. It's such an iconic building for our town, and I love places and things that tell a story. I suppose that's one of the reasons I like to visit the art exhibits so much.' She shrugged, her voice went quieter. 'Everything has a story to tell.'

She looked at him, he must have wide eyes by now. The story behind the pieces of art, the story behind the historic building, the stories behind every antique he collected and sold, was the reason he was there to begin with. To have someone get it and articulate what had been the draw for himself he felt his heart skip a beat.

She's expecting an answer, not for you to gawk at her like a lovesick puppy, you idiot.

His mind put him in his place, and he smiled a little and went scribbling.

The building dates back to 1911, and was originally used as a courthouse. I'll take you up to the top floor here in a little while and you can see holes in the tile that originally held bars that made up temporary holding cells. The letterboard above the desk there in the lobby is original to the building and told people what floor to go to.

Everything went through a restoration in the 80s to bring it back to its former glory. When air conditioning became a thing, they covered all the beautiful ceiling tiles to create a false ceiling to store the ducts for the a/c. Thankfully, workarounds were found later for them, and you once again have the gold dusted floral ceiling tiles. The painting has been touched up, but it reflects the original color. The tile is original as well.

'Fascinating!' Belle squealed and it echoed in the hall they were in, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment. He just smiled at that. 'How long have you worked here?' was her next question. He thought it a bit personal since he thought she was just writing about his job and the building in general, but he shrugged his shoulders and answered anyway.

'Three years this January'

'Not very long then. Have you always done this-I mean, have you always been an art curator?'

He shook his head no hesitantly. He didn't like personal questions very much. He was scared to death she was going to ask him what caused his muteness and then he could only scribble a lie or run her off with the truth.

'No, I was an antiques dealer. I bought antiques, restored them, and then sold them online.'

Her eyes were sparkling with curiosity now and that only made him more nervous.

'What caused you to work here instead?'

He looked down, not wanting to have any sort of eye contact.

'Kids in the neighborhood thought they were pranking me. Broke the glass, vandalized the little shop I had, and knocked over something old and flammable in the process. They were smoking and a cigarette got thrown-this is what the police report says happened. I had a little apartment in the back of the shop, but I was alerted by the fire trucks in time and got out of there before any harm came to me-but my shop…'

He couldn't continue and let the notebook be dropped low enough for her to read.

'Oh, I'm so sorry.' It was all she said, but there was so much genuine concern in her sweet face it made him feel better all the same. He shrugged his shoulders.

'I like it here, well enough.' He gave her a smile of assurance.

'But it's not your dream job, is it?'

No, it wasn't. Since he lost everything he had begun doing small exchanges, and already half his room converted to an inventory closet of sorts. His father had always been quite versed in how to sell junk to people expecting treasure, he instead loved finding genuine treasure that people thought was junk and selling it to people who knew what they were buying.

He sighed. 'I suppose not,' He wrote.

'I didn't think so. You always look so-lost.' She paused, and looked a little shocked at her own bravado, shook her head and hid her face in her hand. 'I'm so sorry. There I go with my mouth again. Here you thought you were just giving a girl a tour and I've tried to play psychiatrist or something. I'm just being nosy- I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry.'

She looked so forlorn he couldn't stand it. And she was right, too. How she knew these things was beyond him, why she had paid enough attention to catch it was also baffling, and he scolded himself that he was so obvious. He had felt lost his entire life. The few moments of happiness, or at least of some semblance of the emotion, was when he made a transaction of goods, knowing he had been above board and honest with his assessment of something's value. Here he was just an observer, helping others in their clarity to observe. This was a bridge, a temporary holding place to stand while the rest of his world rocked with uncertainty.

He hurriedly scribbled that she was quite alright and didn't offend him, and said nothing about how correct she had been. She continued to be a little distressed and tried to steer their conversation to strictly things to do with his job there. They had conversed for what felt like minutes but must have been a good couple of hours when Jeff found them on the top floor, where Robby was showing Belle the holes where the holding cells had been.

'Nice to see you again, Belle. Gramps giving you the tour?'

She smiled and reached out a hand for him to shake and shook her head to the affirmative with a smile.

'Yes, Robby, has been kind enough to show me around this beautiful place.'

'Good, good.' Jeff nodded his head, pleased, before he formed a very nerve wracking smirk. 'Has he asked you out yet?'

Robby stiffened and went completely red, he had no idea how Belle looked, as he was trying to figure out a way to make Jeff disappear.

Belle's voice was small and nervous. 'Umm, no, not yet? I-That is, I didn't mean…'

Jeff continued as if it was the most normal thing in the world to ask someone out for someone else without even asking them first.

'I know he wanted to. There's a place called TLC here in the downtown area that sells a good burger. I'll take my lunch break later if you both want to go.'

Jeff was being cruel. Cruel to him, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk back without giving away his horrible secret, cruel to Belle for putting her in such a position. If only he could tell her he didn't have to listen to the mad man in the child's wear. She would let him down gently, at least.

'I am a little hungry. But I don't want to put either of you out-Robby, don't think you have to…'

'Nonsense! You both have a good time.' Jeff waved good naturedly at them both and Robby sent him a death glare as Belle walked ahead of him.