Mr. Clark entered Granny's with Walter close behind, the place was packed as usual, but there were two seats of the counter on either side of Leroy. "Uh, excuse me, Leroy. Uh, do you mind scooting over a seat so Walter and I could sit together?"
"If I wanted to sit there, I would've sat there. You want this seat? Try dragging your sorry asses out of bed a little earlier."
Mr. Clark just looked at Leroy in disbelief. "You're a real ray of sunshine as…" But then he sneezed.
"Congrats – just lost my appetite. Seat's all yours." Leroy then got up to leave as Mary Margaret walked in.
"Excuse me. Can I have everyone's attention, please?"
In the room fell as silence as if Mr. Gold had just walked in.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your morning, but I just wanted to remind everyone that a very special occasion is upon us – Miner's Day. As always, the nuns of Storybrooke are hoping that everyone will get involved, and will help sell their exquisite candles. All we need are a few energetic volunteers. So, who wants to join me?"
Everyone just went back to eating, and Leroy made his way to the door.
"Leroy, you want to volunteer?" Mary Margret said with far too much excitement. She was truly desperate.
"I want to leave, sister. You're blocking the door."
"Of course. Uh, you know, if you wanted to help, it could really be a…"
"Oh, yeah. Right. Quite a team we'd make – town harlot, town drunk. The only person in this town that people like less than me, is you. If you're coming to me, you're screwed."
Leroy left, Mary Margaret went to sit down with the Emma, Mr. Gold, and Henry. And Mr. Gold was looking through the Daily Mirror. "Let's see. Mary Margaret declared most hated person in town, Regina declared to be as sweet and kind as a baby bunny rabbit, Mr. Gold voted to be Santa next year for Christmas, citing his generous nature and overwhelming goodwill, hell has frozen over, and rumors that Mr. Gold has not only given an extension on rent, but plans to lower it, and the world had come to an end 40 years ago due to a nuclear holocaust, and only now has a politician actually notice, and he's actually trying to do something about it." He then set the paper down. "Why their starting with the most unlikely stories first I'll never understand. I mean really, a politician actually trying to do something to better the world, without there being a public outcry first, is much more believable than the story about my lowering the rents. Although honestly, the idea of you being hated or Regina being considered kind is quite a conundrum, I might have to flip a coin to decide which ones more unlikely."
"Are you trying to make me feel better, or make whatever hole I want to go quietly crawl in and die even more attractive?" Mary Margret asked.
"Not sure yet. But if you should decide to stop trying to help the nuns I would be more than happy to go out and plastered across the entire town posters saying that I will personally reprimand anyone who is tormenting you about this whole David business."
"Why? You don't like nuns."
"Don't like is not quite to the term I would use. I would say, loath beyond all forms of recognition, despise to the very depths of my heart, and would like nothing more than to go and take a flamethrower to thier little building, hopefully with them still inside." Gold said taking a drink of his tea. "And give me five minutes alone with Mother Superior and no consequences, and I would make what I did to Moe French look like a friendly pat on the back."
"I think that means he hates them." Henry said.
"But why?" Mary Margret asked. "They are nuns."
"Says the woman of whom they are going around and declaring to be the most evil thing to have hit this town since, well, me. If I were you I'd say we should band together, and formed the anti-nun club. We did have Henry come up with a name for operation, get rid of the nuns, and have secret code words and code names and all that."
"I think he's been spending too much time with Henry." Mary Margret said to Emma.
"There is no such thing." Gold and Henry both said in unison.
Emma decided now would be a good time to change the subject. "So, what the hell is Miner's Day, and why are you beating yourself up over it?"
"It's an annual holiday celebrating an old tradition. The nuns used to make candles and trade them with the miners for coal."
"Coal? In Maine? If they were mining for lobster, I'd understand."
"Look, I don't know. Now, they use it as a fundraiser. It's an amazing party – everyone loves it."
"It doesn't seem like everyone loves it."
"You're right Emma. I happen to despise this horrid holiday, every year I'm given an opportunity to kick the nuns out if they mess up, and every year they end up having enough money to stay." Gold said sulking.
"And it's not Miner's Day – it's me. Last week, I had ten volunteers. This week, they all dropped out."
"You think this is about what happened with David?"
"Oh, I know it is. A few of them told me as much. I've never…been a home wrecker before."
"It's going to blow over. You made a mistake with David – it happens. But, you don't have to do charity to try to win people's hearts back."
"I have to do something, and this is the best I can do. Love ruined my life." Mary Margret said, putting her head down on the table in defeat.
"Mary Margaret. Take it from somebody who knows, the old saying 'better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all' is probably the biggest lie ever created. But in all honesty they are correct, the memories of the time you spent with the person you love is more than worth the amount of heart break." Gold said smiling into his tea.
Mary Margaret just looked up, not even bothering to pick her head up from the table. "Really?"
"Really. It just takes a few years for the pain of the loss to finally go away, with the occasional sudden lapses into misery."
"How long did it take for you?" Mary Margret asked.
"Well, the pain of the memories went away almost completely sometime after I met Emma I think, but it comes off and on throughout the years. I'd give it about five years and you should be able to think of the memories of you and David without bursting into tears." Gold said taking a sip of his tea. "Of course considering the fact that I am much colder than you are, make it 25 years or so."
"Oh joy."
Leroy was currently walking down the town square, where everyone was setting up for Miner's day. He was walking past a latter when, something sparkly dropped on his head. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It just slipped out of my hand. I…"
Leroy looked up to see a nun trying to fiddle with the lights. "No problem at all." He said, very out of character.
The nun climbed down latter. "I really am so sorry. I… I was so busy trying to get the lights to work, that I didn't realize I was about to knock it off the ladder."
Leroy just looked at her, finding her attempts at trying to explain what she was doing rather amusing, possibly eating cute. "Let me take a look at those lights for you." He then climbed up the ladder, being abnormally helpful for a change. "Here's your problem – you're overloading the transformer. You kept messing around with these lights, the whole thing could've blown up on you."
"Oh. Then I guess that makes you my hero."
"I'm nobody's hero, sister."
"Oh. You can just call me Astrid."
"I call everybody sister. I'm Leroy." He said. And then fiddling with the lights they managed to come on. Astrid then began clapping her hands, while Schilling she managed a one clap and before gasping in pain. "You all right?"
"Yeah, sorry." She then held up a bandaged hand "How did you do that? Are you an electrician?"
"I'm in the custodial services game." Leroy said, probably making his first non-rude joke ever. He then climbed down the ladder.
"That's… Wonderful."
"No, it's not. What I really wanted to do, was sail. I even bought a boat. It's a real clunker. I was going to fix it up, sail around the world, and say good-bye to this hellhole. I'm… I'm sorry, sister."
"It's okay. You know, someone once told me, you can do anything as long as you can dream it."
"You really think so?"
"Sure. Look how easily you fixed those lights. I bet you could do anything. I should, uh, get back to the Volunteer Center. Nice to meet you, Leroy." Astrid said smiling as she left.
And for the first time in recorded history, a sober Leroy actually smiled.
And out of sight there was a smiling Michael, very pleased with this new development.
"You mind if I take a look, too?" Sidney said, pulling up to the crash site. Emma had gotten the call during breakfast that a car had been abandoned in on the side of the road leading out of town after it had crashed.
"What for?"
"Well, just because I got rehired to The Mirror, doesn't mean they aren't waiting for the first chance to kick me to the curb. So, what do we got here?"
"Gym teacher found this thing on the side of the road abandoned. Engine running, no one around. Registered to Kathryn Nolan. She's MIA."
"Kathryn Nolan, whose husband very publicly left her? I mean, the story writes itself. If I get a scoop like that, The Daily Mirror would have no choice but to keep me."
"Calm down, tiger. Kathryn got accepted to law school in Boston. Maybe, after David dumped her, she decided to leave town. Car broke down, she hitched the rest of the way. That's what I would do if I was running away from my problems." Emma said going to the back of the car and opened the trunk, finding a suitcase still inside.
"And, uh, would you leave your clothes in the car?
"Good point. Time to pull Kathryn's phone records and find out who she spoke to last."
"Yeah, you know, if you go through the Sheriff's Department, it'll take you days to get those. I've got a contact over at the phone company; I can get those in a couple hours."
"Great. Call me the minute you get your hands on those phone records." Emma said. And then they saw David's truck coming down the road.
"There he is." Sidney said.
"Time to break the news."
"You really think he doesn't know?"
"I'm about to find out."
"Where can I sign up?" Leroy said walking into the volunteer center. But Mary Margaret just pointedly ignored him. "What? I want to volunteer to sell candles."
"No, you don't. You made that very clear this morning at Granny's." Mary Margret said.
"Well… Maybe, I saw the light. I mean, maybe somebody showed it to me. What difference does it make, sister? It looks like you can use all the help you can get."
"Okay, I need help manning the candle booth. No swearing, no drinking, and I get to call all the shots."
While Leroy and Mary Margaret were talking, Astrid and Mother Superior were also having a conversation, but there is was slightly less friendly.
"You ordered how many tanks of helium?" Mother Superior asked, with a look on her face saying she couldn't believe how stupid the nun in front of her was.
"I-I meant to order twelve."
"You ordered twelve dozen. Return them."
"There are no refunds."
"We needed that money – you knew that. You know how he feels about us. You fix this, Sister Astrid. You fix it now. We were already over budget for medical problems."
Mother Superior then left in a huff, and Leroy walked over to the very distraught Astrid. "Hey. What's the problem?"
"The problem is, I'm an idiot. We get a stipend each year for expenses, and it's all carefully budgeted, we're already over budget considering we've been needing more bandages lately than Storybroke general does, but it was all going fine. That is up till the part where I spent it all. On helium. And now we can't pay our rent."
"So, you'll make it up when you get your next stipend."
"Which isn't till next month. The rent is due next week. And the only income we have are these candles."
"Well, so how many do you need to sell?"
"Like, a thousand." Astra said exasperated.
"How many did you sell last year?"
"Forty-two."
"Ask your landlord to cut you a break." Leroy said hopefully.
"Mr. Gold doesn't offer much leeway."
"Mr. Gold's your landlord?"
"If we miss a payment, we're out. And then they'll reassign us, and we'll have to leave Storybrooke." Astrid said, very very close to the point of sobbing.
"No, you won't. You know why you only sold forty-two last year? Because you didn't have me. This year, we're going to sell all of them."
"Wow! Leroy, I guess you really are my hero." She said jumping up and gave him a hug. And not only did Leroy smile, but he actually kind of returned the hug.
Mary Margaret and Leroy had attempted to sell candles at their booth. And failed miserably. So now after Leroy had had what could either be a stroke of genius, or stupidity, they were going door-to-door selling candles.
"Hi. We're selling candles for Miners Day." Mary Margret said enthusiastically.
"We're not interested." A woman said bluntly.
So on to the next house.
"Candles for the nuns!" Leroy said smiling.
"Go way." A man said gruffly.
It went on and on like that for about seven houses, but then they decided to change their tactics.
"Please! We're begging you, buy a candle." Mary Margaret and Leroy said in unison, on their knees, hands clasped together and shaking above their heads.
"Go away." The elderly gruff man said.
They tried begging for three or so houses, and then got another bright idea.
"We are not leaving, until you buy a candle." Leroy said.
"Want to bet?" An old lady said. She then went back into her house, and a minute later came out with a very angry Rottweiler and a shotgun. "You've got five seconds to run, and then little man here gets to go and have a new chew toy."
"You only got one dog." Leroy announced. "What you gonna do to the other one, huh, huh, what you gonna do?"
"Old Betsy will take care the other one." She then said caulking the gun. "Three seconds."
Mary Margaret and Leroy decided to run, and not try that particular strategy again.
Around the 50th house it became so bad, that when the person finally opened the door Mary Margaret just said. "Oh forget it." And then shut the door. She did realize what is she had done, but when the man opened the door, he told them to get lost.
"Now, I know it's a bit of a fixer-upper, and it's got a few flaws, could probably use a new coat of paint, a few spritzes of Febreze here and there, but the way to fix up this fixer-upper, is to have it be given to you. Maybe you could have Henry come and help you fix the old girl up, and you cannot tell me a five thousand is not an extraordinarily good offer for a chance to bond with your stepson."
"Three thousand, I think." Gold said. "And if I were to try to fix this thing up, Henry would be bonding with his grandson before it became seaworthy."
"I need five."
"You need five? Now that is interesting. To what do we owe the specificity?"
"Trying to help out a friend."
"Oh, I see." Gold said seeming interested.
"Look, you don't even have to pay me anything. Just forgive one month's rent for the nuns."
"The nuns?" Gold said now very confused. And all of his interest left him.
"You can have the boat, a perfect opportunity for your family to bond for generations to come. They'll pay you back eventually, so you don't to worry about losing any money. It's a good deal. You get everything."
"So, that's what this is about."
"Come on – you're a rich guy. Even with that little bundle of joy on the way you can afford to give them time to make up one month's, right?"
"You're right – I could."
"So, great."
"But I won't. I have a fairly specific rental agreement. If they miss a payment, I'm within my rights to evict."
"Oh, come on. Why don't you…"
"And, quite honestly, it's going to be a great relief to be rid of such distasteful tenants."
"You don't like nuns? Who doesn't like nuns?"
"Oh, I have my reasons. And they're mine. Let's just say, I have a long and complicated history with them, and leave it at that." Gold then left.
"Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My, oh my, what a wonderful day
Plenty of sunshine headin' my way
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Mister Bluebird's on my shoulder
It's the truth, it's actual
Ev'rything is satisfactual
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day, yes sir!
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My, oh my, what a wonderful day
Plenty of sunshine headin' my way
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Mister Bluebird's on my shoulder
It's the truth, it's actual
Ev'rything is satisfactual
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, feeling this way
Mister Bluebird's on my shoulder
It is the truth, it's actual... huh?
Where is that bluebird? Mm-hm!
Ev'rything is satisfactual
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day!"
That was the sound Emma came home to. The sound of Gold and Michal with whiskey in hand, singing for joy in the parlor, and Emma was certain the only reason they were sitting was because of the fact that Gold couldn't jump for joy. Emma was seriously worried she was going to have to call somebody to either take them to the hospital, the loony bin, or federal prison. Okay she wasn't very worried about the third possibility, because if anybody in town heard about him singing, they'd all testify that Gold and Michal have lost their minds.
"Emma. Come in, come in." Michal said with the largest smile on his face anyone could ever have. "We are toasting to next week. The great liberation is upon us."
Emma went wide eyed. "Has Regina only got a week to live?" She asked.
"Almost as wonderful, if not more so." Michal said ecstatically. "The nuns have lost all of their money to a foolish mistake one of them made buying twelve dozen helium tanks instead of just twelve. So come next week when their rent is due, they shall all be out on the street by mid-day."
"And this is making you both so happy because of what?" Emma asked. She knew Gold hated the nuns, but why Michal, and just why in general.
"Let's just say that both Gold and I have lost something extraordinarily valuable to those darned nuns interfering, specifically Mother Superior. And leave it at that." Michal said, and Emma had to wonder just which one it was that came up with 'And leave it at that.'
"And might one ask how it is you know for certain they will be unable to pay?"
"Because I went to see Leroy today." Gold said smiling. "He tried to sell me some death trap boat, and I refused. So unless the nuns can make five thousand dollars on their candles sales, I don't think they, if you pardon the term, have a snowball's chance in hell."
Sadly, for Gold and Michal, the nuns did end up selling all of their candles. But the festival was fun, and Michael who was actually there noticed very interesting developments.
Granny came up to Mary Margret, who was holding and unlit candle, and lit with hers. Leroy and Astrid were looking unusually chummy for a nun in a drunk, or a fairy and a dwarf.
And poor David Nolan was being escorted by Emma into the squad car.
Thank you for all the kind reviews. To lozzy035, and boy does he know it; Skyeward MusicLover, thank you my dear; CosPalp, it's terribly sad that you cried, I find it makes it very hard to read, but thank you very much for the review; Twyla Mercedes, thank you for your wonderful review is always, and if anyone's wondering, you can blame her for this chapter not being up two days sooner, because after reading her review I honestly considered ending this story on chapter 17, but then I decided that I know how I more or less want to end this story, and while chapter 17 was a beautiful chapter, as least if all the nice reviews are anything to go by, it is not the end.
I am however considering, maybe, possibly, this is extraordinarily up in the air, but I am wondering if perhaps I should write an epilogue of some kind, and then basically copy and paste chapters 1 through 17 an add-on said epilogue and have it all be one giant One-Shot. Kind of a way to give Emma and Gold an easy happy ending, your thoughts would be appreciated.
Grace5231973, how can I put this? *Scratches head.* Yes, okay, more than happy to, just send me a DocX request or P.M. or something.
And Tris Hiddelston, thank you for the review on chapter 7.
(The following is me copying and pasting from a rant I did on Rumpelstiltskin's strangest deal.)
Now, onto a less pleasant topic. I just received for chapter 7 of That Dinner Would Stink a review, and as usual it was a set of complements, with a criticism of my spelling capabilities woven in.
Now, I will be posting this on this chapter for this story and the next chapter for that story. I am very well aware by now that I am not a very good speller, since my very first spelling test in second grade I have been aware of this fact. I have attempted to improve, and have a great deal over the years. And just so we are all clear, yes, English is my first language.
Now, I do proofread my stories, and I do attempt to fix things. But a simple fact is that I'm incapable noticing when there is a difference between words that sound the same. Like listen and lessen or whether and weather. So when I proofread I only really correct things like saying of instead off or to instead of too.
Now this last review in its defense did attempt to tell me some of my mistakes and did say that they enjoyed the chapter overall, and for that I am extraordinarily grateful. But as I said before I have attempted to find a beta with limited success, and when I did find one but she only managed to review one chapter before disappearing, and I've yet to hear from her again.
The point of this whole rant is mostly directed at the people who not only criticize my spelling capabilities, but also failed to leave any form of a complement as to what it was I did correct. This leads me to what I feel is a logical conclusion, that my spelling must've been so awful that you did not find any joy in reading the chapter at all, and that is why that is the only thing you are capable of leaving in the review.
For those of you that do this all I can say is, one; please tell me know what I did wrong; two; if you are an author yourself, and have a beta, could you please tell me who it is you have, a simple "Orthankg1, you stink, here's my beta _" or maybe a "Orthankg1, I am a great fan of your work, however I noticed that you are having some problems with proofreading. And I being an author myself would like to recommend the services of _, they are very good and I hope they will help you." Or three; if you are a beta, then please feel free to offer your services, I would be very grateful.
And four; if you just leave a review to criticize my spelling but are not a normal reviewer and are only saying what I did wrong, I think you are a trouble maker. So if you are criticizing me just to be mean and cause trouble, my response is,
SHUT UP YOU UNHELPFUL MORON,
please.
:)
Now for a bit good news, I've managed to get my dictating program working again, so spelling should be less of an issue. But, as I'm sure anyone who's familiar with a dictating program knows, they are idiots. So knock on wood after you read that I'm hoping it'll work better now.
(End copy and paste).
And Tris Hiddelston, just so you know this rant is not directed at you, as I said you were very respectful and helpful in your review, you were just the straw that broke this camel's back.
And very last thing, who notice the song I just couldn't resist incorporating into part of this story.