Chapter 22 Making Plans

Gold stammered. 'I'm sorry?'

'You like Belle, Don't you?' Gold wondered if this could somehow fit outside the parameters of being open and honest with Neal, and the promise he made to answer all his questions.

'Of course, I like Belle…' He began, his nerves seemed to give amusement to Neal, his eyes were alive with silent laughter. 'Who doesn't like Belle? And we're friends, really good friends.' All of that was completely honest, just not the complete truth.

Neal crossed his arms. What Gold wouldn't give for a shrug and a dismissal of the subject about now. 'Sure.' He said, obviously unconvinced. Were his feelings for Belle so obvious? 'Well, for what it's worth, I think she likes you too.'

A completely immature screech of 'you think so?!' was on the tip of his tongue, his eyes most likely betrayed him either way, but he bit his tongue instead of saying his thoughts out loud. Instead he busied himself with the dishes, Neal lending a helping hand to put away any cold things in the fridge and to wipe the table off when Gold was done. Gold gave an interested hum, as he didn't want to ignore the child he was trying to get to know, but he also didn't want to give rise to more comments on the subject, even if his mind was reeling with the fact that it seemed just as obvious to Neal that Belle had feelings for him too.

Could that actually be? He replayed some of the last few weeks in his head and while all the interactions could be written off as merely her being a kind person, they could also mean something deeper. Could they? Did they? His head was too full of so much upheaval to think about it too deeply now. Perhaps after the summer, perhaps, and most certainly before she had to leave him, he would say something. Probably best to do it the day before she left, in case she rejected him (which he felt was a high probability from his personal experience)-yes, he would wait until the sting and pain and dejection could be faced without the fear of exposing his emotions to her.

Belle came back eventually, Neal looked at him and smirked a couple of times during jenga when Belle would tease him, or when he made a quip at her. This time Gold shrugged at his looks and Neal looked as if he could barely contain his laughter.

Mr. Gold had decided that Dove would collect rent for him that week, and he brought any work home that he might need to do, and figured he could work on it in the late evenings. There was time for work, ample time, but never would he get back this time to try to be some sort of father to his son. He had worked incessantly when married to Millie, and for many years afterwards. Though he had a strong suspicion (no, it was not a suspicion, it was simple fact) that Millie never actually cared two straws for him, he knew he had done nothing to endear himself to her, not only from his often gruff manor, but also from working so much.

This meant that he had an entire empty week in which to entertain a teenager, which had him stiff with nerves.

'You're up early.' Belle noted when he entered the kitchen. He looked at the time and noted that it was a good thirty minutes before he normally went downstairs. Belle looked as if she had just gotten to the kitchen, herself. Now that it was summer, Belle dressed in a shirt and athletic shorts, and her hair was tied up into a high ponytail. In contrast, no matter that it was summer, he still dressed just as immaculately as he ever did. Maine was never truly what most of the country would consider hot, so he never bothered with changing his entire ensemble just for such a short season. He did worry that now that he was in the company of a teenager, and would be doing things that teenagers seemed to like to do, that it would mean he would need to change his attire. Belle seemed the person to know these things-and to know him in the bargain. She would know what to do, so down he went, early in hopes to speak to her.

'Yes, I-' Now that he was down, he now wondered exactly how to approach the subject. 'I am planning to take Neal to the beach tomorrow-the proper beach, sand and all that. I am planning to go to town today with him and let him pick out all the things he needs for the excursion.'

Belle was nodding, on the counter she was pulling out yogurt and fruit and clear glasses, he assumed to make some sort of yogurt parfait. He smiled. He loved that she was making a special effort for Neal-he never told her she had to deviate from the normal schedule. Toast and jam was all he expected, and he had wondered if he needed to see if Neal wanted a particular breakfast, yet here was Belle, taking the time to make things special for his son.

'I'm guessing' he continued, a bit hesitant. 'That a suit isn't the best option for the beach.'

Belle bit her lip, a smile playing on her face. 'No, I can't say it's exactly the sort of clothes I would recommend.'

'What would you recommend then?' He asked her in all seriousness. She knew him. That was what he was banking on. He knew that the 'recommended' outfit was swimming trunks or a wetsuit, neither of which he would want to be seen dead in.

'Have you ever worn shorts at all?' Belle looked him over, her nose and forehead wrinkling adorably, as if trying to imagine him in shorts, he hurried to stop her before she imagined it completely.

'No, I don't wear shorts, at all.' His eyes went to his leg and the scars he was very aware that were there, hidden beneath his expensive clothes. Not that he ever looked much in the mirror until it was time to tie his tie. If he couldn't stand to look at himself, he wouldn't expect anyone else to want to see it either.

Belle nodded her head, her eyes traveling where Gold's did and most likely realizing what he was talking about. His face was always his most honest around Belle.

'Alright, do you own a pair of jeans? A pair of khakis?'

'I do have a pair of jeans somewhere, I think, but I haven't worn them in so long. I can get something in town today, I just didn't know exactly what would be appropriate. Would you like to join us today? And at the beach?'

He wished he didn't sound so unsure of himself, but this was Belle, and she would neither scorn nor laugh at him, or if she did, he didn't think he would mind too much. She did neither, and smiled warmly.

'You want me to come with you?' As if she could hardly believe it.

'Yes?' He didn't know why that seemed so hard to believe. He didn't know if he really wanted to expound on the reasons he wanted her to come. Neal had warmed to her, if she was there, maybe there wouldn't be quite so many personal questions asked (he hated that this was one of the reasons, but there it was, all the same), and he felt it wouldn't be quite as awkward if she was there. In addition to all this, she was Belle, and he wished her to always be with him, no matter how ridiculous he personally thought it was.

'It's Monday.' She hesitated, biting on her lip, though her eyes seemed excited. 'I need to get the dry cleaning together…'

'Dove is working for me today. Gather it up this morning and we can take it on the way to town.' Her look made him hopeful.

'Alright.' She was smiling, he was too-he was happier than he really wanted to allow his face to express, but it couldn't help but show a little of what he was feeling.

'Good morning.' Neal entered, and Gold was relieved that he had obtained what he had come down early to do. Now he could focus on the day's activities without all the nerves that had built up-well, without as many nerves as there were before. Neal seemed impressed with the yogurt parfait, Gold was certain that he had been raised on a constant diet of convenience, and most likely was the person responsible if there was any variety at all.

'Can we make our last guess on your name?' Neal asked as Belle began working on loading the dishes. They had talked over their plans, Neal seemed excited in his own quiet way for what they were doing. Neal seemed surprised that they would just buy everything outright for a one day excursion (though it was an excursion they could repeat any time he wanted that summer, Gold assured him), but there was certainly some appeal being able to buy any boards, clothes, etc that he wanted. He looked at Gold with that funny expression again when it was announced that Belle was going with them-now that Gold realized what that expression meant, he felt uncomfortable where he stood and cleared his throat, now prompting the question to make the final guess at his name-making him even more uncomfortable, and only nodding his head in response.

'Randolph? Belle and I thought it sounded English enough and it sounds like Rudolph to me (that isn't it, is it?) so, also ridiculous.'

Gold forced a smile. 'That's four guesses now, but I suppose I'll let it slide. No, I'm afraid neither name has enough syllables.'

Belle threw up her hands in mock exasperation. 'And there was another clue that would have helped us!' She gave Neal a smile. 'Alright, now we've given our three guesses, now you have to tell us what your name really is.' Her smile wasn't laughing at him, it seemed so soft and concerned.

'Reginald' He almost whispered. 'Reginald Alexander Gold' He said only slightly louder.

Silence. He didn't really want to look either in the eyes.

'Well, that's not too bad.' Belle finally said. He gave her a look that caused her to redden in embarrassment. 'I mean, it's very, um, distinguished, and that's very much like you.' Belle was trying to comfort him, he could see, while Neal was smiling wildly behind his eyes.

'My father claimed I was born a runt. I was the youngest of four boys, and also the smallest. My father said he gave me a ridiculous and long name in hopes I could grow into it. He gave me every assurance that I never did.' The memories of his childhood sent shivers down his spine, but he wouldn't be ruffled in front of his audience, so he pulled his face into that formidable Mr. Gold expression and continued. 'I've never liked the name, and there are only a few people who have ever gotten close enough to know it. So, Mr. Gold I've become.' He gave a tight smile.

Belle smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. 'It's really not so bad, Mr. Gold, Better than Rumplestiltskin, anyway-and the mystery is solved!' She gave one last warm smile, before declaring that she needed to round up the dry cleaning and change her clothes so she could go with them to town.

Belle seemed to float down momentarily in a pool of gold, as she was draped in a light yellow sundress, her hair pulled down from the high ponytail and curling around her face, so perfectly framed, so perfectly beautiful. His heart went all pitter patter, and he was very much feeling like a foolish schoolboy, ogling his crush. Neal was soon behind her, his mop of hair wet from his shower, making him realize what he was doing, so he cleared his throat again and told them it was time to be off.

Eyes.

Eyes, eyes everywhere. The last time he went out with Neal, there were eyes, but they were both in wonder and glaring. This time, Belle's presence caused startled faces. Thankfully, his less than stellar reputation meant that they were at least left alone for the most part. Belle seemed to feel the glances more than he, or even Neal did. Neal had the explanation that Gold had given him, and he supposed that had been enough reasoning for him. This was all quite new for Belle, and he saw her give some curious looks back at more than a few people.

'How about this?' Belle pointed out a loud button down shirt that looked like he was getting ready to go on a cruise to Hawaii rather than a day trip to a beach in Maine. Gold looked at her with a teasing glare. She giggled. 'True, true, not you at all. No, something like this is better.' She pointed to a light blue linen shirt. 'Though, you look good in warmer colors, I feel like cooler colors might be better at the beach.' He reddened at her observation of him in warmer colors-and thought he looked good in them?

When she flipped over the price tag, both she and Neal whistled together at the price. 'I'm not used to shopping at boutiques for clothes.' She whispered to Neal, though audible enough that he caught the gist of what she was saying. Turning to Gold she said, 'You could wear that with some light colored pants and sandals.'

'Sandals?!'

'Mr. Gold, you've got to wear something open toed, this is the beach!' She placed a hand on her hip and the lady hovering near them, though not daring to butt in had bugged eyes at the conversation. Probably shocked that someone was arguing with the great Mr. Gold and not being torn apart for it. 'I suppose they sell some closed toe beach shoes.' She relented. 'But you're no fun at all.' He gave her a thin smile.

'I am aware of that. Dignity trumps fun in my book.'

She smirked back at him, Neal gave him one too and he tried to distract from the conversation by hurriedly picking up the articles of clothing that Belle had suggested. A few hundred dollars later they moved on to some more shops that lined the downtown area. Belle's eyes glanced at a few window displays, by this time they were on their last stops, as they had left the clothes until the end. He assumed that this would be considered the most 'boring' part of the trip for Neal. Apparently teenage boys could get interested in clothes these days (Gold only began dressing the part once he could afford the clothes himself, as a teenager he knew what he was-skinny, crippled, and poor, and his father made sure he looked every bit the part of that persona as well). When shown name brand swimwear and clothes, Neal gladly relieved him of a few hundred more dollars, though Gold felt it all a worthwhile investment, when thinking of the time they would spend all together the next day.

'You should stop in that store, Belle.' Gold suggested as Belle's eyes lingered on a navy tankini in a shop window.

'Oh no, Mr. Gold, I can't. If I go in, I might see something I like.' She smiled.

'And the problem with that is…'

She stopped and turned, prompting Neal, who had been walking beside her, Gold lagging a bit behind with his cane to stop as well. ' You know I don't have the money to buy anything in there.' It was rather quietly said, and she actually looked put out with him, which made those stinging guilt sensations he hated so much prick at his heart. What had he said?

'This trip is my treat, Belle. Let's go in and you can pick something out.'

She actually glared at him, causing him to take a step back in surprise.

'I can't do that, Mr. Gold. It's too much.' She said decidedly, her cheeks red and her blue eyes holding that fire that was so beautiful, yet frightening. She seemed to pause and think over her words and calmed her emotions. 'If you don't mind stopping by my Dad's shop and letting me get what I have at the apartment, that will be plenty enough.'

He did not like the idea of that. However, he could tell that she was quite determined to forgo pretty new things because of-what was it, pride? That he didn't push the issue further.

He had been avoiding the flower shop, if he was being honest. Moe didn't like him, he didn't like Moe, and since Moe no longer had to pay him, he had seen no reason to step foot in the shop. But here he was. Belle leaped out of the car and ran up the steps. The ten minutes she was gone felt never ending. When she finally came back out, a grocery bag full of what he assumed was her swim wear, her father barrelled after-red faced, his entire body sweating, giving that assumption, Gold always felt that he was one breath away from a heart attack.

'What do you think you are doing? You turn down perfectly nice guys for a 'family date' with him? The monster?' Moe was seething. Gold squirmed in his seat, the words that would normally not bother him hurt while he knew Neal was in the back. He also felt anger rising at the way Moe was speaking to Belle, though if the fire behind her eyes was any indication of how she felt, she was probably giving as good as she was getting. She wasn't speaking as loudly, thus he had no idea what she was saying, though he wished he did. Did she see this as a 'family date'? That's not what it was, was it? No. And that was probably what Belle was telling him. He wished Belle's father would stay out of his business-and Belle's.

Belle slid into the front seat, her own cheeks bright red. She turned to him. 'I'm sorry.' And she looked like she was on the verge of crying. 'I guess this wasn't a good idea.'

He hoped she was speaking about coming to her father's, and not about being with him.