Chapter 52

The extended stay puts the Golds two months late (one month for the trainings, then another month of lolling about on the beaches of Brazil to make up for the month that they were apart) in returning to the States, but neither of them minds; their sense of the passing of time has changed, along with their priorities.

"Email from Gary," Belle announces, her fingers flashing over the keys of her Surface like a pianist playing "Flight of the Bumblebee."

Gold is lying back in his flattened airline seat, a blanket across his knees, a pillow beneath his head and a bag of peanuts between his fingers. Every so often he plucks one out and pops it into his mouth; every so often he turns his head slightly and through the little window, admires the thin layer of clouds beneath the plane's wings. "Magic," he murmurs, half-asleep.

"Hmm?" Belle pauses to sip her Screwdriver. This is her first taste of the cocktail, and from the wrinkles creasing her nose, he suspects it will be her last. A chuckle rumbles in his throat: after all their travels, she's still a beer-and-burgers girl.

"Magic," he repeats. "All of this." His hand waves lazily in the air, indicating the plane and her Surface. "If the stuff of this brave new world had existed in the Enchanted Forest, no one would have bothered to study sorcery. So what does Gary say?"

She smiles smugly as her eyes roam his completely comfortable body. Not a muscle in that body is tight; not a nerve twitches. This is the culmination of her work, and he's given her full credit for it. He's got everything he wants, he's given her the world as he promised, and now they're going home. Belle rouses from her reverie. "He's asking legal advice. He says since it's your fault he has this legal problem, he's sure you'll do the right thing and take the case for free."

"Hmph. All lawyering comes with a—" but Belle slugs him. "All right, what's the problem?"

"That barmaid he had his eye on: she said yes."

"To his proposal?"

"Both of his proposals. Now it seems they're expecting and they're engaged."

"Ah. So he's worried he's facing a bigamy charge."

"Yes."

"Tell him this: Marriages made in the Enchanted Forest are not recognized in Scotland, since Scotland has not recognized the Enchanted Forest. So as far as Scotland is concerned, he's single."

Belle raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I don't know, but it sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"

Belle types. "I'm also extending our congratulations and best wishes for his happiness."

He reaches over to her seat tray for the Screwdriver and finishes it for her. "I'm glad for him. Everyone should have a home, even a sea serpent who makes a lousy pair of shoes." He switches on his Ipad, plugs in his earbuds and lies back, closing his eyes to focus on the Royal Concertgbouw, the best orchestra in the world, according to Gramophone. And now according to Gold, who's heard them for himself. He can't imagine one thing they missed on this tour, not one ambition they've left unfulfilled.

Well, except. . . In one of his suitcases is a nearly empty box he picked up at a pharmacy in Lima. He's thinking of throwing that box away when they get home, and the next trip he makes to a pharmacy will be for shaving cream or breath mints. He's pretty sure Belle will be cool with that.

"You look different," Henry remarks. "Both of you."

"We're tanned and toned. Lots of exercise outdoors," Belle explains.

Under his breath, Gold adds, "And indoors." Belle hears that and gives his knee a slap.

"Something else," Henry ponders. He points to Belle: "You look older." He points to Gold: "And you look younger."

"Is that a compliment?" Belle wonders. "Maybe it's just that we've met a lot of people and learned a lot of things."

"We heard some new ideas, even me, and I thought I'd heard it all. Our outlook has changed, I'd say." Gold wiggles in his seat as subtly as he can; he's back in Armani for the first time since they left Paris and the clothes make him itch. But he's wearing them out of respect for their family, who've come all the way from Maine to pick them up at JFK. They're throwing a welcome back party at one of Bae's favorite New York pizzerias, Lombardi's. After a restful night at the Mark, they'll squeeze in a ballgame at Yankee Stadium, and then it's home.

Later, Gold will reflect upon the conversations of this evening and recall that, whenever Bae, Josiah or Henry spoke of going back, they used the words "Maine" or "home" exclusively, not "Storybrooke." But now, they're talking about Teaneck, from whence they've come: Henry has spent two weeks there with Regina.

"How is she?" Belle asks politely, but beneath the tablecloth, her foot is tapping madly. Gold sets a calming hand on her knee. Calming for her, that is; not so much for him. She's wearing a short skirt.

"She's okay. She got promoted to vice president of sales at the Volvo dealership," Henry answers. "She's going out with a guy who works at a bank. She wants to go back to the Enchanted Forest, though. She keeps talking about the old days."

"That's understandable," Belle says. "She was a queen then."

"She wants you to visit her, Grandpa."

"Did she say what she wants to talk to me about?"

Henry ducks his head and occupies himself with a breadstick. "She wants you and Jefferson to build a portal."

Gold shakes his head. "Sorry, Henry. It can't be done, and even if it could, I wouldn't. I'm done with all that."

"Really? But you could do anything! You were the most powerful sorcerer in the world."

Gold shakes his head again. "You know how you said I look younger? I think giving up magic is the reason why. Yeah, magic's great, but it wrecks you. Anyway, if I still had magic, I wouldn't have the bunch of you, so it was a smart trade."

"Glad to have you back, Pop. In all ways," Bae says. "Real glad."

"Me too," Gold says.

"Say, Grandpa, since the portal's off the table, you're gonna have some time on your hands. How about a job? I've been talking to SBTV about a reality show, Going for the Gold.Or maybe just Rumbelle."

"You've got a silver tongue and gold in your veins, young man, but the answer's an emphatic, unchangeable no. Now, let's talk about something important: how about them Yankees?"

Driving back to Maine, Bae asks Belle if she'd mind sitting up front with Jo, because he hss something to talk to Gold about. Belle squeals and pats his shoulder. "Congratulations, Baelfire!"

"Oh, no, it's not that. I mean, I hope you guys will congratulate us, but it's not me and Em, it's me and Josiah."

Flabbergasted, Belle stares at his back as he climbs into the back seat. She hardly notices as Jo lifts her into the shotgun seat. The Yukon's engine fires up and Jo steers them masterfully out of Manhattan. It's total silence in the car, even from Henry, who's just been to his first professional ballgame and has plenty to talk about, so Gold smells a conspiracy, a secret they think he won't like. He may surprise them. As long as Snow hasn't decided to assign him life in prison, he can adjust.

"You're going to notice a few differences when you get back to Bell's Corners." Bae removes a small white box from under his seat and presents it to his father. "This is part of it. Open it."

Inside Gold finds a small gold medallion and a matching pair of earrings. "What is this?"

"The next big thing, Pop. A music system. The earrings deliver the sound directly into the ears without any leakage; someone standing next to the wearer won't know she's listening to music. The medallion has the memory chip. The system can take voice recognition verbal commands: you say 'Play Pink Floyd' and it does. You can program playlists with verbal or typed-in commands. You can plug the medallion into a USB port and download from Itunes. It was born, like they all are, in Silicon Valley, but it was conceived in Bell's Corners. And it's just the first; Apple expects it will have plenty of brothers and sisters, all conceived in Bell's Corners.

"It's like this. After you'd been gone about three months, me and Josiah were here one weekend to see how the house was coming along. Arminta took us out fishin', just to unwind; it had been a rough week in Storybrooke. That was supposed to be the week our tourism campaign turned our economy around, and you know how that went. We'd also been fighting for your idea about a development office, but the City Council didn't want to pay for a new city department. Well, we were stressed, so we came out here and Arminta took us fishin' and while we were out in her boat, just chillin' and listening to the radio, we heard that Apple Computers was holding a company convention in Boston for creative staff. The idea was to take them out of their routine, put them with new people and they'd come up with new ideas. Well, we were sitting in the boat, talking about that, and we got the idea that instead of being in a hotel conference room all day, those R and D types might do better to get out of the concrete jungle, you know, really relax like we were. We thought, what if we brought them to Lake of Three Fires for a little R and R and D? The Bells have that real nice fishing cabin right on the lake, and you always said, 'Thinking's easier with a fishing pole in your hand.'

"So one of us–don't remember who–got this bug up our butts and Arminta thought it would be a good idea, and the three of us, we went to Logan with two Yukons and stood around waiting for the flight from Cupertino to arrive, and when it did, we grabbed those R and D guys right off the plane, claiming we were from the company and there'd been a change of plans, one that the Training Department thought would give these scientists a whole new perspective. And we loaded the ten of them into our cars and brought them to the lake. You should've seen them, these scientists with their PhDs, rolling up their pants legs and wading in the lake like a bunch of kids. We taught them how to build a campfire, and they roasted weenies and S'mores and we told 'em fairy tales and tucked 'em into sleeping bags real nice. When we took them out fishing the next morning, they didn't have anything else to do while they waited for a bite, so they started talking about the next big thing. That's what they called it because at that point they didn't have a clue what it would be.

"Well, the R & D guys called Corporate and told them about the change in plans, and Corporate was plenty pissed, but they mellowed when the R and D guys told them they already had a concept for their next big thing thought up. This." He points to the box. "Actually that's a prototype. A buggy one. The final product's supposed to be on the market at Christmas. They're calling it Apple Goldwear, after us. Corporate was so happy they signed a deal with the mayor for annual fishing trips for key people in the company. The Finance Department's scheduled to come in January for ice fishing. We're kinda hoping you'll take the Finance people out; you speak their language. So you'll see the Bells' fishing cabin's been expanded and modernized–even has wi-fi. We're not going to allow too much development, though; the town won't stand for it and besides, it's the rustic experience Apple wants."

"Signed a deal, huh? I hope Arminta didn't get taken advantage of."

"For one weekend of fishing per month, Bell's Corners gets a hundred grand a year. Plus half a percent on Goldwear sales."

Gold grins. "I hope Apple didn't get taken advantage of."

"The City Council voted to build a medical clinic with the windfall. Unanimous vote, only took us ten minutes of discussion, after Doc Miner said he'd be the first tenant. It was the women who wouldn't brook any argument. You see, they've been having to drive to Augusta to see an OB/GYN."

"Doc Miner!" Belle beams. "Did you hear that, Rumple? The gods are with us."

"Perfect timing," Gold approves. "But, Bae, did I catch the word 'we' in there somewhere?"

"Meet the Bell's Corners' new councilmen: Josiah Dove–"

"Hope I'll have your vote in the next election," Dove grins over his shoulder.

"And Baelfire Gold."

Gold clears his throat. "You changed your name then."

"Yeah. It started feeling right."

"Congratulations on your election, Councilman Gold."

Belle catches on to something else. "Does that mean you're living in Bell's Corners? Both of you?"

"I'm commuting, so I can still run the pawnshop," Dove says. "For now, I'm living in the Bells' fishing cabin. Fran and her family moved to Bells' Corners, though. The economic downturn in Storybrooke was killing her business."

"You know, I think she's right: the market in Storybrooke is played out," Gold speculates. "Let's do a feasibility study of relocating the shop."

"Sounds good, Mr. G."

"I bought a house," Bae says, and his father hoots like a cowboy at round-up. "A two-bedroom fixer-upper."

"I'm one of the fixers," Henry grins. "Dad and I are retiling the bathtub next weekend."

"And Emma?" Gold asks quietly. "Has she moved?"

"She's still got half a year left on her term of office, so she stayed in Storybrooke for now. But on her days off, she brings Henry out and we work on the house together."

Gold pries no further. He doesn't need to: he sees the smug look on his grandson's face and the contented look on his son's.

"Bae, you and Josiah are born dealmakers," Gold says. "And farsighted politicians. You've brought development into town in the least intrusive and most environmentally friendly way. I'm proud to live in a town with such leaders."

"Thanks, Pop." It's what every boy needs to hear from his dad, even if the boy in question is almost three hundred years old. "Got those qualities from you," Bae replies. It's what every parent need to hear from their child, even if the parent is almost four hundred years old.

Belle is sitting at the kitchen table with her woolly slippers propped up on the chair opposite as Gold patters, barefoot, to the coffee pot. They've been in their five-bedroom, two-bath home for a month now and it's a new plaything to them; they keep rearranging wall hangings and furniture, and they've decided to spend a full week in each bedroom before they decide which will be the master bedroom. "Love this new-house smell." Gold breathes in deeply. "Wonder if it can be bottled?"

Belle glances up from her Surface. "Email from Gary. He sent wedding photos."

Gold leans over his wife's shoulder to see, and while he's there, he kisses the top of her head. "I wouldn't have recognized him with clothes on."

"He went back to shoemaking. We also got an email from Arcani. He says he got an A in organic chemistry."

"As well he should. He–"

The back door swings open and Bae backs in. His arms are full of packages. "Gifts from Apple. The final version of the Goldwear jewelry set. They'd like to get some comments from their friends in Bell's Corners, the message says, before they go onto the market."

"And donuts and bagels!" Emma pops in behind him. Her gift is more welcome; Gold takes the goodies and plate them as Belle starts some scrambled eggs. The four adults move around the kitchen efficiently, each in a pre-established cooking role. A rumbling from the backyard prompts an explanation from Bae: "That'll be Henry. He's mowing your yard today because he has a game tomorrow."

"Good man, that Henry."

"You overpay him, Pop. Ten dollars would be enough."

"One of the rights that come with being a grandpa. Any brothers or sisters you provide him, I'll spoil equally."

"You're fishing for information again, aren't you, Gold?" Emma tugs at his ear as she passes behind him. "I thought we had an agreement: we don't ask you That Question, and you don't ask us."

"You can't blame a gran–ow!" Emma tugs his ear more forcefully. "Okay, I'll drop it."

"Now, if we're done with the baby teasing, shall we get on with other business?" Emma folds her arms. All food preparation stops: there's something so naturally authoritative in her tone. "Family," she begins, and the glint in her eye as she says it mirrors the glint in Bae's and Gold's. "My term of office expires in three months. I won't be running again."

"Emma," Belle breathes. "You're moving here."

"Yeah. Before you get all squee, no, we're not getting married yet, though it is on the table. We don't want any nagging or teasing about it, okay? But even though Storybrooke's just thirty-five miles away, we thought it would be better for Henry to have both of us in his life every day. So I'll be looking for work here and Henry and I will move when the school term ends in May."

"Your parents? Are they okay with this?" Belle asks.

"They're kinda bummed, but when we finish the basement, that's where Henry's bedroom will be, and we'll use the second bedroom upstairs as a guest room. So they can visit, and we'll go back to Storybrooke a couple of times a month."

"Welcome to Bell's Corners, Emma. Enjoy your stay." Gold echoes his first greeting to her, a lifetime ago.

Gold tosses the empty box into the trash can as he climbs into bed. "This is the last one." He shows her the little red packet in his palm. "Should I stop at the pharmacy tomorrow after work?"

Belle's hand closes around his. In a flash the packet is flying through the air and lands in the trash can. She smiles smugly.

"I take that as a no," he begins to say, but her mouth fastens to his.