More Important

Chapter 19

The Thanksgiving Dinner had begun reasonably well, except for a plethora of green bean casseroles. There was plenty of turkey and liquor that seemed to keep people satisfied. After sharing what they were grateful for, things began to get a little jagged and an argument broke out.

While voices were raised, Granny had calmly gone back into the kitchen and came back out with her sawed-off shotgun. She climbed onto a chair and from there onto a table. She fired a shot above the heads of the combatants. Everyone separated.

"Now, listen here," Granny had everyone's attention. "We've been having such a good time. We are not. going. to ruin. it. Everybody, get a fresh drink and sit. back. down."

The combatants glanced at each other, then at Granny, then at Granny's gun, then grabbed different things to drink.

"It may be 'bout time for me to be heading out," announced Leroy, gathering up Astrid and making his way out the door. "Lovely time, great food," he said to Belle, slipping away.

Milah and Killian stepped out next, followed by Zelena and her beau, then Regina with her new man and his son.

"Rats on a sinking ship," murmured Rumple watching people slink out, some of them stopping long enough to grab some leftover turkey, some pie and whatever might be left from their casseroles, as well as some of the as yet unopened bottles of booze.

Not everyone had made it out before the police pulled up. The dinner participants were, at the officer's request, all gathered in the main restaurant to talk with the man. Granny greeted the officer familiarly.

"Had a complaint, Ms. Lucas," the officer, a young, handsome black man, spoke wearily to her. "Firing off that shotgun again, are you?"

"Just a little celebratory shot, Officer Gus. No problems," she assured the officer.

The officer glanced around and first nodded at Ruby, "Miss Lucas," he greeted her.

"Hey-ay, Officer Gus." Ruby gave him a big smile.

Officer Gus seemed to know David, likely from his job with the District Attorney's office, and Whale, probably from the ER,"You two concur with that?" he asked them.

"Absolutely." "Completely." They both agreed.

"All right then," the officer seemed to accept their complicity, but then turned to Granny. "I don't want to have to come out here again because there's been another complaint about you and that damn shotgun," he began.

"I got a permit," she protested.

"Yes, and you can have a gun for protection but not for firing at random," the officer persisted. Then he lifted his head, "What's that smell?" he asked.

Rumple, among others, lifted his head, to sniff the air. "Smells hot, like something's on fire."

Rumple stopped Belle from opening the door to the party room, first feeling the door. It was hot. Carefully, wrapping his hand with one of Granny's dishtowels, he turned the door knob and peeked into the room. He was faced with flames. Something, likely one of the candles had gotten too close to some of the bottles of liquor. The linens and the greenery had caught the flames. One of the candles . . . or perhaps his dad sneaking out to smoke and not properly disposing the cigarette butt . . . had started the fire. Rumple closed the door and stepped back.

"Call the fire department," he directed the police officer. "Everyone's out of that room, right?" and he began a head count. Belle's dad, Belle, Neal and Emma, Granny, Ruby, both of Ruby's gentlemen friends, Jefferson, Mary Margaret and David and David's mother. He knew Regina and Zelena with their respective entourages, as well as Leroy and Astrid, had already cleared out after Granny's little scene.

Where was his dad and his mother?

Belle pulled him aside. "They left," she told him.

"You sure?" he had to ask.

"Together," she told him.

He stood still. His parents had left together. He shuddered.

The fire department had promptly arrived and had gone to work ushering everyone outside of the building. Belle stood by Granny and Ruby during the conflagration.

"This is awful," Belle said.

"Oh honey, we're insured," Granny told her. "It shouldn't reach into the kitchen where the expensive equipment is – there's a firewall between the kitchen and the rest of the restaurant."

"We probably shouldn't have decorated the place with candles and dried greenery, but it looked so pretty," Ruby remarked.

"Well, you don't know that's what started it," Rumple told her. "Unfortunately, there were a lot of bottles of accelerant all around the room and once they started going up, the fire moved pretty fast."

The fire department did their job efficiently and effectively. Ruby and Granny were allowed back in to survey the damage.

The kitchen had been saved and, miraculously there was minimal smoke damage. The seating area of the main restaurant was also in pretty good shape but, as to be expected, the back room, where the party had been, was a total loss.

Belle was obviously distressed, but Ruby leaned in and whispered, "Don't let this out, but the insurance money we'll get for this will help us make some updates to the restaurant that I'd been wanting to do. There's a big silver lining to all of this."

As things calmed down, Mary Margaret, David and David's mother thanked them all and left. Emma and Neal left next, after getting hugs from Belle.

Then Jefferson and Whale came up to Belle. "I probably have some things I need to get to," Whale said.

"And I've offered to help him do them," Jefferson said with a big smile. "Thanks Belle. This was fun," and he gave his hostess a quick kiss on the forehead. Then the two stepped out.

Aftermath

Rumple and Belle had driven her father back to the assisted living facility and returned to his apartment.

They were sitting in his darkened living room each sipping on a final glass of some dark, sweet red wine.

"Got to say, this was a different Thanksgiving," Rumple told her.

"I was expecting some sort of disaster, but usually it's something with the turkey – something gets left in the bird, or the dog eats it or, at worst, it's overdone or undercooked. I guess, I'd thought that everyone bringing green bean casserole was this year's big disaster but . . ."

"Burning the place down tops that."

Belle looked up at him. "You think the fire tops your parents getting back together?"

"Well, we don't know that they're together. My mother could have just got my dad to go with her as part of her insidious thirty-five step plan to string him up, suck out his life force and leave his shriveled remains in some alley."

"Your mother . . . ?" Belle began.

He waited for her to finish.

"That little speech about missing being a mother and wiping away a tear. Was that for real?" she asked.

"Oh hell no, but I'm surprised you saw through her. She's good, really good."

"Do you think she just got your dad to go with her just so she can dump him?"

He shook his head, "She can't have feelings for him. She doesn't have feelings. The woman's a psychopath. But, of course, so is my father."

"You really think that?" Belle asked him.

"I do. They're two people who have only ever cared about themselves, are willing to do whatever they have to, so that they'll be comfortable. They're willing to lie, manipulate and use other people without a shred of remorse." He finished off the wine. "I guess I should be happy my mother went off with my father. I was half afraid she would hit on Jefferson."

Belle blinked and bit her lip. He caught the action.

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus. She hit on Jefferson?" he asked her.

Belle nodded. "He told me she'd given him her phone number. But he left with Dr. Whale, Ruby's old boyfriend."

Rumple sighed. "Yeah, well Jefferson swings both ways." He poured himself a second glass of wine. "My mother with Jefferson? That's too scary to contemplate. Listen, my Belle, for Christmas, promise me, it'll just be you and me and your dad."

"All right," she agreed. "No Neal and Emma?"

"Okay, Neal and Emma are all right."

"No Jefferson?" Belle's innocent blue eyes had widened. "But, he's your best friend."

"All right, Jefferson would be all right." He agreed and then suddenly, he realized what she was doing – getting him to agree to expand that initial close-knit guest list.

"See how easy it is, once you get started," she told him with a winsome smile.

She'd gotten him. "All right, I do, but please, no matter how sad the story it, how desperate any of these other people sound, how pitiable their story is, you will say no," he pleaded with her. "You can use me as the bad guy. Tell them I hit the roof and wanted you all to my selfish, selfish, self."

"All right," she agreed. "But, you know, you're aren't really selfish," she told him softly.

Mother

Rumple had met with his mother Monday (she'd informed him brusquely that the Thanksgiving Meal did not count) just before he set about to return to New York City.

"You look tired," she told him.

"Working eighteen hour days with this damn play," he told her. "Being home, here, I thought I'd get caught up on my sleep . . . but," he smiled at her, "there's been Belle."

His mother leaned back and looked closely at him. "It's love, isn't it?" she asked him. "Real love, not infatuation or lust?"

"I think so. I'm sure so," told her.

"Are you going to propose?"

He hesitated. "I'm thinking about it. Maybe, at Christmas, you know, maybe I'll offer her a ring."

"So, you sound unsure."

He hesitated again. "I . . . I don't know if she wants that kind of relationship with me. I'm so much older than she is and . . . lotsa baggage . . . and I . . . I don't have the best track record for sustained relationships."

"Oh," his mother said noncommittally.

"What? You think I should ask her?"

She shrugged. "You have the ring?"

He paused but then reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a small blue box. "I got this at some store on Fifth Avenue in New York. Some of the women in the play recommended the place."

"Tiffany's?" his mother clarified.

"I guess." He handed the box over to his mother who examined the ring with an experienced eye.

"This is beautiful," she confirmed for him. "I like the little touch of sapphires. They match her eyes."

"You think I should ask her to marry me?" he really wanted to know. He wasn't sure.

"I don't know. Maybe she's happy with the . . . uh. . . I assume you're banging her like a drum on a regular basis?"

He sat a moment. "Crossed a line there, Mother."

She leaned in, "Maybe she does want more. A lot of women want more than just sex, even if it's great sex."

He pocketed the ring and turned on his mother, "Now, Mother, your turn. What is going on between you and Father."

Miss Black nearly blushed. "Wh . . . why would you . . . think there is anything . . . going on between me and your father?" she stammered.

"Because Belle saw you two leave the Thanksgiving Fire together.

"I was just . . . we thought . . . I was going to . . . ." she sighed. "It's all that young woman's fault," she snapped.

"Belle's?" Rumple wasn't sure.

"Yes. She is always so nice to everyone and talks about forgiveness and moving on and . . . all that crap and . . . well," his mother looked up at him. "Malcolm and I started talking and . . . well, one thing led to another and . . ."

"What?"

There was no answer.

"Mother, what? What is going on between you two?"

"He might be moving in with me," she confessed.

"You know you can't trust him. He's working a scam," Rumple warned her.

"That's no way to talk about your father," his mother admonished him.

"Hell, if it makes you feel any better, I'd tell him the same thing about you!" He pushed back from the table. "The thought of you two getting together suggests . . ." he considered the possibilities, "The Apocalypse."

"Oh, grow up, Rumple. Don't be so dramatic. It's just sex," she rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're talking about getting married or anything."

"Oh please, I don't want to hear about my parents' sex life."

"Well, why not? It bodes well for you that, at his age, your father is still a pile-driving stevedore twixt the sheets."

Rumple closed his eyes and shook his head – no, the image would not go away. He finished his drink and signaled for another one.

As he took a big swig of his new drink, his mother coyly asked him, "But you must tell me dearie, marriage or no, are we to expect any little new Stiltskins in the near future?"

Rumple sprayed his drink.

Life Continues to Happen

Rumple remained tied up in New York City, but had shared with Belle that the play was finally moving along and an opening date, in early February, had been scheduled. Astrid and Leroy's baby was due in March. Mary Margaret and David had announced they were expecting, sometime in July. Neal and Emma had made a date in early June for their wedding. They had decided to keep things small for the ceremony with only Rumple and Belle in attendance, but they wanted to have a big reception in Granny's spanking new updated Diner. Belle's father was doing well enough to have outings once a week and had taken to 'working' in his old florist's shop. He was still able to put together extraordinary bouquets, still remembering what different flowers represented and often Leroy would get his help when anyone had a special request.

Christmas was, as Rumple had requested, a quiet affair, a meal and short gift exchange (Belle had knitted the man a Penny Straker Aran sweater and he had gotten her a first edition Jane Austin). Back in their apartment, Rumple again had Belle sit for him, an evocative pose involving a little (fake) white fur and a (real) red silk ribbon. It was sultry and sexy and not one for public display. He was surprised that each painting with her seemed even better than the last one. Usually by this time in a relationship, he was beginning to get bored and had begun to look for a way out – but with Belle, it was better and better each and every day.

This, he knew, this was True Love. Whatever he had felt before, was a pale, anemic shadow of what he was feeling with Belle. He often found himself saying the words. She would grin and kiss him and repeat the words to him.

But he remained afraid, too afraid to take the next step. He'd taken the ring out several times, but just couldn't bring himself to ask her to marry him.

In his deepest heart, Rumple didn't feel she would accept a proposal of marriage. All the differences, all the obstacles, all his character weaknesses would dance in his head and he just couldn't go any further. He would wait, he thought. Perhaps, after he was finished with this damn play. That would be a good time. Or perhaps, after she got her degree. That could work. Or perhaps after Neal and Emma got married. Or maybe after the Art Exhibit in April. Perhaps then. Yes, then.

Or not.

February Begins

Belle had finished her first class for the mid-winter term and was about to start on her most intense, three-course semester, beginning in February. Rumple had invited her up to New York for the opening night falling on Friday, just before her classes began on the next Wednesday.

Jurgen had become the most anticipated play of the season. It was widely known that Rumson Stiltskin had been involved with the production and bits and pieces of his music had leaked out. People were excited. The Sorcerer, as he'd been known on Broadway years ago, had returned.

Rumple wasn't excited. He felt that the more people were expecting, the further he had to fall when he didn't meet those expectations. And he didn't think it was that good. Of course, he never felt his work was that good.

Milah, Killian, the actors involved, they were all telling him how amazing his work was. Yeah, they would say that. He opted instead to talk with the stage crew. These were people who were less emotionally enmeshed in the production. But they too, they were telling him that the work was great, one of them described it as "magical."

Belle had promised to come. She'd have to fly up, leaving early morning Friday and she would stay through Tuesday night, when she'd be flying back. She was excited. She'd see Rumple again and that always stirred her blood. She'd get to go to New York. She'd attend a Broadway Premiere. Very exciting stuff.

She was packing, very unsure of taking her distinctive wardrobe north. She knew her Asheville style would work in Austin, Texas, or Portland, Oregon and a myriad of other cities that prided themselves on their 'weirdness,' but she didn't know how it would work in a sophisticated, cosmopolitan city like New York. But then, she wasn't going to change who she was for a city. She did pack the gold dress and the blue one because she knew there would be some elegant places that Rumple would want to take her.

Jefferson was taking her to the airport and helped her out with her luggage.

"He's going to want to know," Belle told him on their drive out. Jefferson knew she was asking about himself and Rumple's mother.

Jefferson shook his head. "I considered it. I'll admit that. She's a fantastic looking woman for any age. But, fortunately, I didn't have to make a decision. She and Malcolm are apparently reconciled and she's no longer looking for any extra curricula activity."

"Really! She and Malcolm! I'm not sure if I'm happy or . . . confused," Belle admitted.

They had pulled into parking at the little airport and Jefferson was helping her get out her single suitcase when Belle got a phone call.

Jefferson didn't take much note until he saw Belle standing very still, her face drained of color.

"Belle, what's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"My father," she began.

"Another heart attack?" Jefferson asked. He was well aware of the health difficulties Maurice French was dealing with.

Belle nodded. "They've taken him to Mission Hospital."

The rest of the day was blur for Belle. Jefferson had asked how he could help and Belle first said to let the airport know her seat was available. He quickly took care of this.

Belle wasn't crying; she was too numb. Her father had been doing so well. They were taking him out of the facility at least once, often twice a week. He was making sense when he talked. He was exercising and eating well. She had thought they had turned a corner and she might be able to have her father back at some point.

"Can you let Ruby know?" she asked Jefferson. "She can let all my other friends know."

He made the call. "Do you want me to call Rumple?" he asked.

"No, I'll do that. I need to go ahead and do that. I don't want him waiting for me."

Belle made the call.

"Hello Belle, darling." She heard Rumple's voice against a background of raucous noise. "It's chaos here. Typical opening night jitters."

She couldn't bring herself to speak.

He picked up on the silence. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"My daddy," she began.

"Belle, what happened?"

"He's had another heart attack. I'm on my way to the hospital. Jefferson's driving me."

"Oh sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I thought he was doing so much better. What can I do?"

"You . . . you can stay there and take care of the opening of your play. I'll keep you posted as to what's happening here," she told him.

"Of course," he answered. "Belle," he added before he hung up. "You know if there's anything . . ."

"Yes, I know, darling," she answered him.

Jefferson had taken her on to the hospital and they located her father in ICU. Within an hour that Ruby had joined them, then Emma and finally, Archie came in. They were getting regular updates, but essentially, there had been no change in how he was doing.

Belle shared with them what she had learned from Miss Gorim, the director of the nursing facility.

"He'd been doing his usual routine. He hadn't complained. He'd come to breakfast and had then gone back to his room. I believe he usually used this time for some reading. He had come out for their morning exercise program at ten o'clock. It's a very gentle gi gong program, to help keep the patients moving and stretching. Dad was participating and, according to the instructor, when they were about begin the lesson, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and . . . he just crumpled. They called the nurse immediately, but they weren't revive him. His color wasn't good and his breathing wasn't right. The nurse called 911 and the ambulance brought him here."

Ruby was holding her hand. "I know this offers only the smallest of comforts, but it doesn't seem as if he suffered in any way."

Belle nodded. "Thank you. It does help. It sounds like he was enjoying what he was doing." Belle took a drink of the flat hospital coffee Jefferson had bought for her.

"They told me that they thought of my father as one of their success stories, did you know? When he came there, he was nearly non-coherent, unable to walk the length of the hallway, struggling with his ADL's, and, sometimes, he was just plain unpleasant. After he'd been here a while, he had turned into one of those people who was in there encouraging some of other clients. He was so proud of what he had accomplished. It hadn't been easy for him, but he had worked hard."

Her friends had been with for three hours when the news came. Dr. Whale asked for Belle to come back with him. She was standing by her father's bed, holding his hand, watching the occasional flicker of telemetry when things flat-lined.

Dr. Whale glanced at the wall clock. "One eleven," he murmured.

Maurice French had passed without regaining consciousness.

Dr. Whale spoke gently, "We did everything we could but we weren't able to bring revive him. He just kept slipping away. It was a peaceful ending, Belle. He wasn't in any pain."

Belle knew she was crying. She couldn't help herself. "Now, he's with momma."

"I'm so very sorry, Belle."

"I guess. . . there will be some things to do, now?" she asked, unsure of herself.

"They can wait until tomorrow. Why don't you get one of your friends to take you home tonight? The nursing home already gave us information on what funeral home he wanted and they will be contacting you tomorrow."

He had walked her back out to the waiting room and her friends immediately surmised what had happened. Ruby was hugging her. "Belle, I'm so sorry."

Jefferson spoke kindly to her. "Belle, there's going to be a lot of things to take care of, but tonight, why don't you let Ruby and Emma take you home. I can come by tomorrow morning and help you with . . . what needs to be done."

Belle nodded," That's what Dr. Whale had suggested." She was numb, the pain overwhelming her. She didn't remember the ride back to her apartment, going up the stairs on stepping inside.

Ruby turned on the light and Emma set her down on the sofa.

"I was supposed to be in New York," Belle began talking. "Rumple's play was opening tonight. I'd almost got on the plane when the call came."

"I never knew my parents," Emma told her. "I can't imagine what you're going through. I'm just so, so sorry."

"I knew my parents, but I was still very little when they died," Ruby told her. "Granny's been the only parent I've ever known and I . . . I don't know what I'll do when she . . . she passes."

Belle was about to share more when the two women heard the front door unlock.

It was Rumple, dressed in an elegant black tuxedo. His eyes locked with Belle as if he wasn't quite sure of his reception. Belle was stunned, but then she started to cry and got up to rush over to him. He enveloped her in his arms and just hugged her.

"Well," Ruby stood and spoke to Emma, "I think we need to be heading on."

Rumple glanced up at Ruby and Emma and mouthed, "Thank you." The two women quietly left Rumple and Belle together still hugged up.

"Why did you come?" Belle asked him, wiping her nose on the rich red silk shirt he wore under the formal attire. "You were supposed to be in New York at your play. It's opening night."

"It's not my play," he corrected her. "It will go on fine without me. And I thought you might need me here more than I needed to be there."

"I won't tell you that it's not good to see you. But I had told you not to come."

He gave her his most gentle smile, "I know."

"But you came anyway." Belle sniffed, "You didn't have to, you know. I completely would have understood if you'd wanted to stay in New York for your play."

"It's not my play," he corrected her. "It's Jones's. And . . . this is more important - you're more important."

A.N. Sorry about Moe – but he'd had this destiny since my first draft.

As always thanks to all of you who continue to read and follow this. Special thanks to Grace5231975, arynwy, Wondermorena, Erick'sTrueAngel and jewel415 for their kind comments.

NEXT: Belle begins to deal with all the changes and life goes on.

Belle decides to surprise Rumple at the Gallery showing.