Beginning Notes: First Note: I have edited some details in chapter 4, as there was a plot hole there. One of the drawbacks to posting as I write instead of posting once the story is written.

Also, My apologies for the delay! I rewrote the beginning two pages about 3 times, and that, along with some things in my personal life made it where today was my first day to really be able to work on this! I finally had the chapter figured out, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 15 The Place where Love Blooms

'In fact, I've attempted a letter at least three times.' Gold sighed, hating to tell her another one of his failures, but it seemed that once he began and saw the genuine sense of concern and a desire to help in Belle's blue eyes, he could hardly stop the words from coming out. He might regret it later, but he could not right at this moment. 'And all three times I couldn't bring myself to send it. It turns out, that no matter how articulate you might be with words in a general sense, there really is no perfect way to tell someone that you are their father and have a desire to be in their lives.'

'I can only imagine.' Belle sighed, lost in her own thoughts. The remnants of past tears still hung around her eyes and it both baffled and humbled him that they were for him and the son he would so very much like to know. For some reason he hadn't counted on her tears, though he should have. He had discovered that she was a good, and kind soul, brave, and had somehow put so much trust in him as to share her own painful memories. He had hoped that all of those attributes that he already knew applied to Belle would help her to understand his situation, he had no idea that it would cause her so much emotion.

'But thank you.' He couldn't help but say. 'this means a lot to me-that you have listened.'

'Of course, Mr. Gold, I am glad you had someone to tell.' She smiled at him, and though he couldn't quite smile yet, the weight of the words that he must summon and send were heavy on his chest, and he imagined, that now he knew that it was the next course of action, he would get no rest nor assurance until it was sent-perhaps until some sort of reply came back.

Belle sensed his restlessness and excused herself, though not before reaching and squeezing his hand once more, leaving a real sense of loss once her touch was gone. She was now gone, and if the clatter of dishes he heard soon afterwards were any indication, she had gone to work though her thoughts that torment. These thoughts were for him! With that knowledge, he shakely pulled out his stationary R. Gold The R always stood there and mocked him, reminding him of the father that began his insults as soon as he entered the world. He ran his hands through his hair, for surely the fifteenth time in the span of half an hour, and then determined, he began writing.

He tried not to think of the other three letters he had written before and had never sent. One had him attempting to bribe forgiveness. Though he would give anything he owned for the chance to right the wrong that was made all those years ago, he would be lying, if he said he wanted a relationship through those means. This letter he penned now was an explanation of the facts, but with an attempt not to put in all the pain and suffering he felt was his at the hands of Millie. He wanted Neal to know that he had not known, and now that he did, all he wanted was a chance to make things right.

His nerves were just as tense once he finished, but he did feel lighter, he did feel like he had done the right thing , and wasn't that what he was yearning for, almost as much as the hopeful connection? He disliked himself almost as much as the town did, and while he built walls around his heart to not allow the stinging words said much too loudly behind his back, or even the non veiled barbs in his face, to affect him, he had always realized that the town wasn't all that wrong in their assessment of him. He often used money and influence and deals to take the place of what he did not have-love, warmth, freindship. He had a sort of respect, he supposed, but merely out of fear and loathing, not the respect he assumed a person gained through being a good and honest person. He had always attempted to at least be true to his word, but that was not saying much for the ways he got out of adhering to the spirit of his word, and only focused on the letter. This that he was doing now was none of that. He wanted for the first time (second if he took the time to think it through, which he didn't) to do the right thing by his son, without any requirement of anything on his son's side. His son's forgiveness and acceptance of a meeting would be his most longed for outcome, but it was not required, he had come to realize. Belle made him realize what he already knew was the best course of action, no matter what would happen.

This did not mean that the prospect of waiting appealed to him. He was used to deciding what he wanted and making plans to get said thing, and then putting everything into place to achieve it. This time he had done everything short of arriving at the Darling's residence and hoping that they let him in. No-he would be patient, and he would wait for it to be Neal's choice.

Since he would be waiting, he decided that a distraction was necessary and made the appropriate phone calls to make another objective possible.

…

Belle was sorry, though not surprised over Mr. Gold's agitation that week. There was a sort of nervous restlessness that settled over him and he was quieter than usual. She was quite surprised when he came in at noon on Wednesday, the lunch she had packed him still nestled safely in his lunch container, and he asked in a quiet tone, if she would mind him joining her for lunch that day.

'Of course, Mr. Gold.' She smiled, doing her best to do something to try to soften the lines around his lips and eyes so that he might not be so tense. It worked a little, his face softened for a moment at her smile and then went back to being visibly nervous. His hands looked like they were shaking and she hadn't seen him so unsettled since he told her about his son.

'Are you alright?' She tried to reach out with her eyes but his hardly left his lunch that he was unwrapping.

'I received an email today. You see, I sent a letter to the Darlings as well, letting them know how things were and if Neal was alright with it, allowing us to meet. In the letter I gave them all my information and ways they could reach me-and they sent me an email.'

She thought he might actually be sweating through his suit, his eyes were still locked to his plate. She reached out to him-his hands were occupied but she grasped his arm, causing him to look up at her, his eyes larger than she could remember and panic settled over them. It wasn't sadness, she was certain. It was fear. She waited for him to continue.

'They are coming here, Belle!' His breaths were coming so frequently, that she had the same sort of worry for him that she did for her father all the sudden.

'Oh, please Mr. Gold, I'm sure it's going to be alright, breathe a little before you continue.'

His eyes were back on her and he seemed to recollect himself, put his hand through his hair and tried to take her advice. She reached and squeezed his arm again and he finally seemed to breathe at a more manageable rate.

'George Darling, the father, says that they had meant to do some traveling during the summer, and since they already live on the east coast, they plan to travel this way. They want to meet me, and if Neal doesn't object, once they get to know me a little, plan to leave him here for the rest of the summer! What am I going to do? I thought I would get a day, an hour even, moment, a single opportunity if I was so very lucky and then I suppose I hadn't thought any further.'

The raw honesty of his words showed how out of sorts he was. Belle's heart hurt for him, and yet rejoiced at the same time at how easy this all seemed.

'But this is good news, isn't it? To gain such an opportunity?'

'But for so long? What if he hates me?'

The panic and fear were raging through his eyes and she wished she had some way of making him feel more at ease.

'He won't hate you, Mr. Gold, I'm sure of it.'

'How do you know?' He said roughly, startling her. 'How can you possibly know that? The entire town hates me, even you, you! Found me distasteful at first, I know it! How can I assume that he won't be any different?'

She sat a little straighter, but remained concerned for him.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Gold, I shouldn't have assumed. You're right, I don't know and can't possibly be one hundred percent sure that he will like you, but you must give him a chance to like you before you assume the worst. Do you know when they will come?'

He hadn't relaxed yet, but he seemed calmer than before.

'The second week of June.'

'And they'll just leave him here if they think you're alright? Doesn't that seem a little sudden?' Belle realized.

'I thought so too, after rereading the email about seven times. I did provide them all my information, so they could have run a search, I suppose. I guess I shouldn't complain that they are so compliant.' He shrugged, though his shoulders continued to hold tension.

'Then, all we can do is prepare for him to come, and if you will just show Neal your concern for his welfare, I'm sure he can do nothing but come to like you.'

…

'Then all we can do is prepare…' Perhaps it was unintentional, but he was pulled out of his frantic state by her use of the word 'we'. As if they were a team and would face him together. As if he wouldn't have to face him alone.

They chatted for the next little while about what room to put him in, if he stayed, and how they would need to prepare over the next month to have the house ready for Neal to come. Gold could still hardly believe it, and he wouldn't get too hopeful about his chances to make things truly right until he received word from Neal himself or saw him and talked to him. However, he was slowly coming out of the panicked frenzy he had been in since he had received the email. All he could think about was how he needed to talk to someone. He would have worn down the flooring in his shop if he would have received that email four months ago, but since there was actually someone he could talk to (he assumed Dove would have been more than willing to keep Gold's business to himself-he would have to tell Dove about his son's coming to visit very soon, anyway-however, Dove wasn't one for conversations, and input of his own opinions)and he had grabbed his lunch for a pretext to come home and hardly knew where he was driving when he found himself at the Victorian at last.

He ought to have felt embarrassed that Belle had seen him in such a state, but after her reaction to his past, he felt like she was the only person on the planet that he would allow to see him this way.

She had been her very usual, and kind self, and he was only too happy that he had at least some small way to repay her.

…

Belle had been whistling in the study-it was her favorite place to dust, surrounded by the smell and sights of floor to ceiling books, all organized to visually please, when she heard commotion outside. The groundskeeper came once a week to keep up the grass, now that it was spring, but it was not his day to come, so it caused Belle to run to the window to see what was going on.

The groundskeeper was there along with Dove and one other person. Wood was piled up on one side of them and they were working together to construct something that Belle couldn't quite make out from her position at the window. Seeing people Mr. Gold trusted, set her mind at ease, but did nothing to take away the curiosity as to what they were doing.

She tried to dust but it was no use. She lasted an entire hour before her curiosity got the better of her (she hoped Mr. Gold would not be angry at her snooping) and she went outside to see what was going on.

It was a box of some sort, made out of wood. It was placed in the exact place that she thought would be good for a gardening bed. A gardening bed! For sure enough, a fourth man had pulled up with his pick up truck filled with bags of soil, fertilizer and plants of all kinds.

'Miss Belle!'

Dove had discovered her and motioned for her to come look at the plants.

'Do you like these?'

She looked at the little sprouts and their descriptions, and they each matched what she had listed in her journal as she sketched her little fantasy garden. With all that had gone on with her father, and then Mr. Gold's confessions, she hadn't even gotten around to asking Mr. Gold if she might have a little garden in that particular part of his yard. Her mind went to the open journal in her room and she wondered how he had seen it-she often left her door open, so she assumed he could have seen it from the hall-though why he should have looked into her room at all baffled her. That he had orchestrated any of this overwhelmed her (for it could only be him , Mr. Dove, no matter how lovely a person, couldn't be the initiator). Why? How? So many questions left her quiet for some time.

'Once we get the dirt down and watered, would you like to help plant these, Miss Belle?' Dove's question brought her out of her reverie.

'Oh yes, of course, thank you! This is wonderful!'

Mr. Dove Beamed, his smile taking every inch of his face, making him seem even larger somehow.

'Mr. Gold will be happy that you like it, I think' Now his smile was a knowing one, and Belle had even more questions, but didn't imagine she would gain anything from the gentle giant, so she took up a shovel and helped them place the soil and finish getting the bed ready for planting. After unloading all the plants, Dove and the team of men left Belle to plant the remaining herbs, and it was with her arms buried in newly turned soil that Mr. Gold found her.

'Do you like it?'

Belle squeaked. Why must he always catch her unawares! She had jumped up, with her hands flinging dirt all over Mr. Gold's beautiful suit.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Gold!'

'It's alright.' he chuckled nervously, his cane went from hand to hand as he brushed the dirt off his suit.

'How did you know?'

Mr. Gold tilted his head at her question.

'How did you know I wanted a garden right here, and these exact plants?'

Mr. Gold blushed! His entire face went pink and guilt bloomed all over his features.

'I-I happened, well, that is.' He stammered so badly that Belle couldn't stand to see him suffer.

'It's alright, Mr. Gold. I love it! I just can't believe you did all this for me?' The statement came out as a question, and she wasn't sure Mr. Gold could become any more embarrassed. He limped back to his car that was parked not too far, since the driveway led into the backyard, and retrieved a wrapped box. He handed it to her.

'I thought you might need this-so, it's a, for you, if you'll have it.' His words shook a little, but he had pulled his face to his usual demeanor, his eyes were the only things giving his earnest but silent pleas away.

She took the gift and unwrapped the most beautiful set of gardening tools and gloves she had seen (and she had seen many as a florist's daughter!). The gloves were sturdy, but ornate, with a rose pattern running over them. The handles of each well made tool were in the same pattern as the gloves. They were the perfect balance of practical and beautiful. Belle was overwhelmed. Though she knew Mr. Gold's mind had been full and worried that week, he had taken the time to arrange all this for her! Without thinking she placed the box beside her and flung her arms around Mr. Gold, thankfully not toppling him in the process. He stiffened in her grasp and she pulled away almost as soon as she had embarrassed him, even in those few seconds taking in how even the way he smelled was very Mr. Gold like-masculine yet elegant. As soon as she had come back from the hug she mortifyingly took in the dirt she had again gotten on his suit and exactly what she had just done.

'Thank you, Mr. Gold. Thank you so much. This is beautiful-everything. It's exactly how I pictured it.' Her voice was heavy with emotion, but she was determined not to cry-whether her eyes would cooperate might be a different story. Mr. Gold's own eyes had recovered from his shock and seemed all warmth and pleasure. This was the man that Neal needed to see. For who could see this Mr. Gold and not instantly love him?

Belle was too shocked at her own thoughts and only vaguely realized that Mr. Gold had told her that he was only too glad she liked it, and hoped she didn't think he was making her work more-it was for her own enjoyment and she could work on it anytime she wanted to-within or outside of her work time. She smiled back in answer, and thanked him again, wondering if her eyes showed how much she had come to love him.

Author's Note:

Belle knows her feelings-Gold has started to realize his...Now to get them to realize that it's reciprocated!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope the change up of povs every few paragraphs wasn't too confusing. It was needed this time around.
Thank you for reading, and thanks in advance for any comments! I love hearing what you think!