Chapter 25 In the Red

It was promised that Neal and Grace would keep in touch, numbers were exchanged, and after three days in each other's company, they were all fairly sad to be saying their goodbyes (Belle even thought that Alex might be just a little sad to be leaving. After a while, Alex seemed to warm up to the man a little). Belle worried that Neal might find the Victorian empty and hollow, and knew Alex worried over it too, after the action packed days they had but he seemed to be happy enough to spend some quiet time at his new home away from home.

Alex caught up on some work, closing himself off in the study for a few hours, Belle began trying to catch up on the cleaning that had been sorely neglected, and Neal, after hearing what she was doing, told her he would manage his own room, spent a half hour on it, before relaxing in front of his games and TV. Alex would probably not be so keen on so much game time on any other day, but their busy schedule seemed to call for some relaxation. He did go outside when Belle went to check on the garden in the later afternoon, and she showed him the basketball goal that Alex had gotten Dove to get while they were gone the day before (the second he heard that he liked to shoot hoops with some of the neighborhood kids at home). With all the junk food they had eaten over the last few days, Belle fixed them up a nice supper and they went to the dining room that evening, and Belle felt a twinge of regret that she would be going back to her father's the next day.

'Do you think he's still mad at you for going with us to the beach?' Neal asked, as he hungrily scooped another helping of mashed potatoes on his plate. Belle shrugged.

'He hasn't called or texted me all week. It worries me a little, but it's not the first time. Normally a few days will cool things down.'

Alex was quiet during this exchange but she could see that his face was set in serious contemplation, his eyes told them he was listening keenly.

'You could just stay here if he's too unreasonable-couldn't she?' Neal looked over at Alex.

'Of course, of course you can, Belle. I know you wanted it as part of the contract, but you are always welcome to stay.' Alex's smile was thin, but genuine. She smiled back.

'Thank you, but the whole reason I wanted that in the contract was so that I could check on him. You see, his health is not the greatest, and I-I know he didn't sound very happy when you saw him, Neal.' She bit her lip, and really wanted to hide her face from the memory of her father shouting at her, angry when she answered him about why she came in Gold's car, why she was getting her swim and extra summer wear, why she thought she had been asked, etc. She had given both true, yet vague answers to it all, worried about what his reaction would be. Even with bland answers, his response had been enough to have her spend that evening in tears in her room. That Alex or Neal might have heard any of it-which they probably did if Neal's worry was any indication, embarrassed her to no end. 'He's all I have left.' She spoke the last part quietly, trying not to expose how lonely that felt, all the sudden.

The shop had never felt so daunting, even after the fight about Tony. At least then they had managed some peace over the phone, this time the silence over the week was deafening. She would not be cowed by her father. She knew he loved her, and no matter what, she loved him and was hurt that he should be so set against the person who had become so dear to her. If only he could see…

The shop was empty when she arrived. In fact, it had been closed and locked-her spare key had let her in. The phone was ringing, she walked over and noticed the red blinking where the messages were stored-the phone call was an order. The lady had already tried to call twice, her daughter had decided on an impromptu wedding and needed flowers at the last minute. Belle hurried to grab a sticky note and start jotting down the order and try to scramble for an estimate. The silence in the shop had her heart thumping hard, and she was worried. Finally the phone call ended, and she hurried upstairs to look for her father.

The house was trashed. It reminded her of the first time that she had come back from Alex's and he had 'fended for himself' in the worst way possible. Twice the amount of alcohol bottles and cans littered the kitchen, take out bags were spilling out of the rancid smelling trash can. The dining table looked like it had recently entertained a party of gamblers-Mr. Gold's rules of no smoking inside his properties had been disregarded by the smell coming from a shallow glass dish filled with cigarette butts and ash. The whole scene only took seconds to take in, and she made a dash to her father's bedroom.

'Daddy?' She ventured, as she opened the door to her father's room. He was snoring-that was a good sign. It was loud and deep and she flinched in disgust as the smell of vomit hit her nose. Assessing the situation, she went to go get something to clean it up, getting a glass of water and some aspirin before nudging her father. His face was ashen, his forehead drenched in sweat, and his hair looked greasy, as if he hadn't been showering properly either. What had gotten into him? This was worse than the occasional sinking into drinks he had after her mother had died, and this was the almost as bad as he had looked during the first few grief filled months.

'Daddy, wake up.' Her father groaned, gradually squinting at her as he grabbed for his head.

'What are you doing here?' He slurred, the effects of his late night not having worn off yet.

'It's Saturday, Daddy, this is my day to come, remember?'

He groaned again and laid his head back down on the pillow.

After some pushing and prodding, she had him drink some water, take the medicine and go get a shower to freshen up. Pleased that she finally had him going in the right direction, she cleaned out the coffee pot and began it, went downstairs to put a sign on the door to say they were closed for the day (she groaned at this, but didn't know what else to do), and went back upstairs to begin cleaning up the whirlwind of destruction. Thirty minutes later her father emerged, his eyes bloodshot and they also sported dark bags. His steps were heavy, yet at the same time he looked feeble.

She noiselessly poured him some coffee and set it down in front of him. She put bread in the toaster that she hoped he would eat-she needed him in as much of his right mind as possible before they began what she knew would be an unpleasant conversation.

'What happened?' She said when she felt he was finally ready. After some cleaning, the kitchen looked less like a seedy bar and more like the small but quaint apartment they had rented for so many years. 'You give me the silent treatment, and then I come back to you passed out on your bed, the house looking like you've drunk enough for the whole town.'

Her father looked at her with heavy eyes. 'You know very well why. My daughter, my own daughter, would rather associate with the enemy.'

'The enemy? Mr. Gold? How is Mr. Gold our enemy, Daddy?'

'You mean you scrub the man's toilet like a slave and you don't even know why he's the enemy? What sort of power does he have over you? What has he done to you?' His voice sounded like sandpaper-his face had yet to gain any color back.

'He's not the monster you've made him out to be, Daddy. What I am doing is paying for the mistake you made, if you'll stop demonizing Alex for a minute and think about it.' Her hands were balled up to her side. She hated being angry, especially at her father. As she had told Neal, he was all she had left of family, and her heart could not hold on to resentment.

'Alex?!' Her father's eyes were bugged out.

'I mean, Mr. Gold.' She stammered, kicking herself for the error.

'It's true then, isn't it? Everyone is talking about how you've been seen around town with him, Gold has started making orders for two, and now three when he orders out, and rumors are buzzing that you are doing more than just cooking and cleaning for the man. I don't care what he's giving you as extra, no matter how many trips he's promised you, it's not worth it!' He was starting to get worked up, red tinged his cheeks and he was again sweating profusely-he rubbed at his chest.

'No! Nothing like that is happening, you have to believe me. Mr. Gold only asked me to go along with him and his son as a friend. He's done nothing-I've nothing! I can't believe you would think I would be capable of trading my body, for- for trips!' She buried her head in her hands in frustration and unbelief, hot tears stung her eyes.

'I-I'm sorry Bluebelle, really. I just didn't like you being spoken about like that-and then you going along with him and this boy that turns out to be his son? I don't like this, I don't like this at all. Why did you ever have to work for that evil man…'

'He's not evil, Daddy, please, don't speak about him like that. And this is why you're trying to drink yourself to death and not taking care of yourself? What went on last night? Mr. Gold's rental agreement very clearly said no smoking and I still haven't gotten the smell out. What if this messes up his agreement with us, huh? We could lose everything!'

'Tell me again how he's not a monster? He could throw us out and you still think he's your friend?' His breath was coming in short spurts and Belle softened towards him, though her anger was still ever present.

'Calm down, Daddy. I'm worried about you-you need to see a doctor. Mr. Gold is a businessman. He can't help that we owe him money, and he has rules for a reason that he expects people to abide by. You can't blame a person for making rules over his own property and expecting people to pay when they are supposed to. Please, Daddy, don't you understand?'

Her father looked at her with narrowed eyes. He didn't answer but only shook his head and his face knit in disgust.

'I'll talk to Mr. Gold and see if he will forgive you this one time' She said in a much softer tone. 'I'm going to go downstairs and start going over the account. Mrs. Boyd's daughter is getting married and wants flowers by the end of next week-it's a last minute thing. It's a small ceremony so I felt like it could be done, especially since you have Henry helping you now. How is that working out, by the way.'

'Fine.'

'Are there any orders you need to work on today? I left a sign on the door saying we would be closed for the day-hopefully Mrs. Boyd's order won't make us too behind.'

'No orders-got them all finished before the boys came over.'

'Alright. Speaking of 'the boys', how much did you lose last night?'

Her father glared at her.

'I don't see how that concerns you-I could have won, you know.'

'Did you?'

'No.' He said through his teeth. 'Can't remember how much I'm out' it came out almost under his breath. He steadied himself a bit, 'I don't know, Bluebelle, I just don't know. I was so distraught over everything, Whaler met me in the store buying beer and we got to talking. He thought I could just let off some steam over some drinks and a game. He brought over more guys than I normally have, and I know I drank more than I ought-and I know I was losing, but I don't remember how much.'

He was rubbing his face and thinning hair with his hands. She could never stay angry at her father for long-most likely another one of those weaknesses of hers, and her heart broke for how ill he looked, no matter that it seemed he had done it to himself.

Pushing another piece of toast towards him, she made her way down to the shop and opened the computer to begin sorting out the week's sales, and allotting the money to bills. She unlocked the cash box to begin readying it for a bank run, and gasped.

It was all gone.

Every cent. She would not barge in, she would not slam doors, she would approach him calmly. Her hands shook. Normally there was always a hundred dollars kept in cash, just to have on hand to make change-after a day's worth of business there could be over a hundred dollars more than that-if he had actually made a run the day before that-left to his own devices, her father had sometimes let it build up over a few days since they were no longer in as dire straits, with Mr. Gold's arrangement. She had no way of knowing, except to look back through every receipt, which sounded like what she would be doing that day, as her father didn't seem to know many details from the night before. She opened the door to their apartment and faced her father, his eyes still red rimmed and his skin still sporting a very sickly shade of clammy white.

'The money in the cashbox Daddy, is gone.' She forced her voice to be calm, she wondered how Alex was able to keep his so controlled, her body shook with the effort.

If there was color in her father's face, it would have drained. There wasn't, so the only way to tell he was worried was that his breathing started to become erratic again, and his mug shook in his hands. 'I was worried about that.' His hands went through his hair.

'And I'm guessing any cash you had on hand-do you know how much cash you pulled out for the night with 'the guys'?'

'That I did sober-two hundred.'

Belle fell back in the chair, her legs too shaky to hold her weight.

'We played through the night-and, and I-I know I messed up. But we will get through it, like we always do, Bluebelle. Don't fret.'

But her father's optimism did nothing for the fretting she was surely doing. How would they make it? This was more than just using his own money, which was bad enough, which could cost him something like electricity, or groceries, or cell phone, or something…but he had also gambled away money that would help pay for inventory, or Henry's hours. Henry would probably not be able to work that week so they could save that at least-which was a horrible thing to do to him, but she didn't see any choice in the matter. Alex would be so upset-so upset. Now her own head was in her hands, wishing she could come up with something less frustrating and terrifying.

'I'm tired, Bluebelle, do you think, since it's just the call in, and we aren't open that you can handle the shop today?'

She didn't answer him at first, she didn't know if she could without using words that she would just regret later. She breathed in several times.

'I think-I think I'm going to look through the receipts and try to get an idea how much we are out as far as the business goes, then I'm going to go back to Mr. Gold's.' Her father darted up his head, the wrinkles that already lined his face, deeper angrier. She kept going before he could say anything.

'With the number of take out boxes I saw, I have this feeling that all the meals I made for you to eat on are still there. You need to figure out your own finances and see if you have enough for a grocery run tomorrow. You need fruits and vegetables, Daddy, you don't look good at all. Go get some rest. I'll try to begin making notes on that order from Mrs. Boyd for you so it will be easier on you. I'll be here next Saturday to make some finishing touches and help you load it.'

Seeing her resolve, he went back to bed and she went back to the chaos of the finances.

Three hours later, struggling with a headache, she finally had sorted through things. As far as she could make out, they had lost three hundred dollars through her father's foolishness. He had never been good at money, and had a weakness for gambling on occasion, but this beat all previous bad decisions he had made (outside of the idiotic wager he had made with Alex, though she could hardly regret him doing it now). How could he have believed such horrible rumors anyway? How could he give them any truth and if she were a betting person herself, she would put a lot of money on him ranting about it to 'the boys' and anyone in town that didn't know his sentiments and worries towards her and Alex now knew.

She had never given much care to what people thought of her. She had gone through that time in high school when she had been talked about and ridiculed, but this was on such a larger scale, and hurt more than herself. How could they say such things about Alex? How would this affect Neal? The whole thing made her sick, her head was throbbing, and as worried as she was about how her father was going to make it for the next few weeks, she longed to be back at the Victorian.

She called Dove once she felt certain she had done everything she needed to do. She checked on her father who was starting to stir, before leaving. If Dove was surprised at her sudden return, he made no indication, in fact, she was left in silence the whole way, with only a 'thank you, Dove-I'm sorry I haven't been much of a conversationalist.' She gave a small smile, and Dove reassured her he didn't care.

Now to enter the Victorian and face Alex. For some reason it wasn't as daunting as the shop was that morning. Alex was her friend, and no matter what happened, he would at least try to listen and understand. Her father had felt like a brick wall.

Author's Note: Some drama for a few chapters before we cruise to the finish line. Also, I promise more Alex/Belle interaction in the next chapter-it just didn't work out for this one.

I hope you are continuing to enjoy the story! Your wonderful feedback and comments have really been highlights of my day!
Do you remember when I said this wasn't going to be a 100k story? Yeah, I'm worried that it may now be one, lol. My husband and I were talking about how I could have written an actual novel by now...whoops. Maybe next time! I just really enjoy writing for this universe and getting the ego boost that is your wonderful comments, haha