Chapter 22 Saying Goodbye

The cab sat rumbling, reminding them of their purpose in standing there-the cabby was waiting, waiting on them to say their goodbyes so that Roger could get in the car to meet the afternoon bus. Belle bit her lip and glanced up at the stoic soldier before her. He leaned heavily on his cane with one hand, his face ever one of neutrality it seemed, though his soft brown eyes were warmed over with feeling. It was as if, well, as if he were just as sad to leave her as she was him. That comforted her somehow, and so she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat some time ago and held out her hand and tried to smile.

'I am so thankful you came, and we got to meet each other-face to face, that is.' She bit her lip again as she stumbled over her words. He had grabbed onto her hand, his thumb moving up and down the side of her hand, leaving Belle's heart beating wildly and standing stunned at his initiated contact.

'Aye, I too am glad we got to meet.' He gave a shy smile, his hand still over hers. 'Face to face.' He seemed to realize what he had been doing, suddenly looking down at his thumb, his eyes going wide and pulling back, almost as if she had burned him. She missed the feeling of his hand over hers as soon as it was gone, and her chest felt pained from the loss.

'I, um.' the fingers of the same hand stretched out suddenly to his side before the same hand began pushing back the wispy bits of hair away from his forehead. 'I'll write when I get to a more permanent location-is that alright?'

'Yes, yes, I would like that.' She spoke softly. 'And here is Mrs. Taylor's address. Thank you again-for everything. You've been-you've been such a friend to me.' Her voice cracked with emotion, tears threatening to fall. Roger could sense it, and gave another shy smile.

'And you me, Belle. Thank you for such a lovely weekend-I look forward to our future correspondence.' He swallowed and looked as if he might say something else, opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and gave a small goodbye. He went inside the car and gave one last smile as he eventually became too far for her to see, before disappearing altogether. She sighed and then eventually went inside the cluttered house. Eventually she was able to go to her room-she moved a white furry kitten away from her door before going in and shutting the door, sitting on the bed, and giving much thought to the last couple of days.

That Sunday, Roger had come with her to church and Belle ought to have thought of it beforehand. After the second verse of Rock of Ages she could sense Roger squirming beside her. He wasn't really-it was just a small shift of his cane, a slightly stronger grip on the hymnal that he had put out in front of them to share, these small things that made her look up mid third verse and see just how uncomfortable he looked. She felt the stares too, though she tried not to be distracted by them.

Belle French, after not attending church for so many months, had not only suddenly shown up, but had also brought someone-a male someone, an unknown someone. Could she expect anything less than eyes to surround her, questions behind every single one? She wished she could apologize to Roger for the looks, but with the service started, she could only give him a sheepish look, hoping it conveyed her apologies.

In some ways, she was pleased to be back. She imagined the sermon was nice, though she wouldn't have been able to say what it was about, so distracted was she by the man who sat beside her…was it about Psalm 23? The Good Shepherd? The Shepherd who left all ninety nine sheep to seek out the lost one? She could only remember that it had something to do about shepherds and sheep, beyond that, she could only be aware of the stir her presence had called, and how she wished they could simply disappear once the service was all over, instead of being subject to the barrage of questions she knew was coming.

Most were quietly curious, their whole demeanors brimming with questions but only giving an 'It's good to see you again, Belle.' or 'So glad you came back.' Some ventured a little further. 'Can you introduce me to your friend?' Those seemed to be joined by a knowing smirk that Belle didn't particularly like, but endured. She hesitated to glance up at Roger and see how he was faring, cringing at each well meaning, but curious remark. She did it once, only to be met with a grim look, his face a set of lines, his lips too set in neither smile or frown. His eyes were neutrally set, but if she had the time to observe, she could have seen something deeper, almost angry.

'Belle! I'm glad to see you girl, I am. And who might this be?' Granny peered sharply through her thin spectacles and seemed to give Roger an analyzing sweep.

'Granny, this is my friend Roger Gold, Roger, this is Mrs. Lucas-my friend Ruby's grandmother.'

'Ah, so you're the young man that Belle's been writing to.' Both Belle's and Roger's eyes bugged out at this statement, Belle was afraid she might have blushed, but hoped that it wasn't too obvious.

'Why, um, yes. How did you…'

'Ruby said something about it-among all the other rubbish she's said here lately.'

'Oh Granny' Belle sighed, but said no more

'I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Gold, glad to see you here, as I said, Belle, finally. Morris finally saw the light or are you..'

'I'm to stay with a Mrs. Taylor? And work at the library. Morris' house-didn't work out.'

She could feel Roger shifting where he stood at this remark.

'I know Mildred-she's-well, you'll see how she is.' Granny grunted. 'I know I should have come and checked on you again sooner-Ruby told me to, I just…'

Belle moved to reach out and put her hand on Granny's arm (Ruby got her height from her grandmother, therefore, Belle reaching to put her hand on her shoulder was an awkward feat that Belle would not attempt).

'It's alright, Granny, it all worked out. And-try not to be so hard on Ruby-it's the most steadfast I've ever seen her be about anything-that's got to be a good thing, right?'

Granny, who never did cry if she could help it, sniffled a bit, and now patted Belle on the shoulder.

'I'm sure you're right, but it's hard, so hard.' Belle only replied with a whispered 'I know.' and Granny left to shake hands with the preacher and give comments on his sermon.

Roger followed her to find Mrs. Taylor-she knew looks followed the both of them, but she was only too happy to have him so nearby to really care at the moment.

When Mrs. Smith from the library had told her that it was Mrs. Taylor that wanted a boarder at her home, she had become quite amused. Only known by sight, never knowing her personally (Mrs. Taylor had arranged the rooming details), she had always been quite intrigued by her looks. She had become quite gray over the past few years, her hair was kept up exactly the way it would have been twenty years ago, as well as her clothes. There was no shape to them-the gauzy light fabrics flowed around her as if she had been some sort of fairy. Her spectacles were large and round, and she wore a close knit cap with a band and a flower as adornment. She looked exactly as if she had stepped out of a fashion magazine, only dated a couple of decades ago. Belle cautiously walked up to her and cleared her throat.

'Why Miss French, how very lovely to meet you!' Her voice had a high pitched squeaky quality, and the lines around her mouth told Belle that the lady must smile a great deal.

Belle explained her need for a room a little early and explained that she could add some extra money to the rent the first month (though mentally trying to do the math and wonder how very little she would need to live on to make it possible) so that she might stay a little earlier.

'You are more than welcome to come stay! Come today if you want-Mrs. Smith speaks so very highly of you, and I know we shall get along like a house on fire, we will.' Her grin showed every one of her yellowing teeth and her gray eyes were bright and as large as saucers. Every bit of her face smiled when she did and Belle let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding since she had left Morris'. She had been worried that she would be a burden on Roger's finances-that perhaps he might think less of her, that he might think that she had somehow cornered him in such a way to make him stick up for her. Perhaps these were foolish thoughts, but they had been playing over and over in her mind, no matter how comfortable the bed was (and it was like a piece of heaven after sleeping on a couch for six months). No matter how he thought of her, she was just thankful that she would have a place more her own in a day's time, and Roger would not be shilling out money just for her.

The walk back was at first silent, before Roger broke it.

'I think I may've caused you to be the subject today of a lo' of stares and questions at church and I'm sorry to cause any trouble for you.' Roger said apologetically.

'They really mean well, I think. I can't blame curiosity and I-I find I don't actually mind.' Belle spoke honestly, biting her lip and reddening at what she knew many were thinking-that she and Roger were together. And she found it to be a truthful saying-she did not mind the gossip, she only wished he were her beau. Roger's eyes went all deep and warm, and looked at her in such a strange way.

'You don't mind then, what they might think?' He seemed to need to know the answer.

'No, I, um don't. Do you? I am sorry they were so pointed in their stares and questions.'

'No, no, that part didnae necessarily bother me.' Belle had at first grinned, then wondered what he meant, did that mean there was something that did bother him?

Their conversation was interrupted by them making it to the inn. The front of the Inn had a bit of an awning with a few chairs arranged in a pretty fashion. The owner's wife had a flair for gardening, and small pots of this or that plant lined the small porch area, little shoots coming out, not fully formed, as the summer hadn't fully commenced. Belle went and brought down a paper bag of goods they had bought the night before, knowing the entire town would be closed for the day. It was something that didn't need a fridge, and they ate it and chatted, her relishing that he was there-that they were together for however many more hours.

'You said you weren't upset over the stares-or the gossip. Did that mean…you seemed to insinuate-what did upset you? I'm sorry for whatever it was…' She was busy eating and so picked at her food instead of biting her lips.

Roger sighed and seemed to give the matter some thought before answering.

'They were mighty curious today-And I couldn't help but wonder…especially your friend's grandmother who seemed to know that there was something going on…why they couldn't have been curious enough to wonder at your absence, to find out what was going on?' His tone betrayed that there was more depth to how he felt about this than his words portrayed and it made Belle fidget all the more. She had wondered the same thing sometimes, so she could understand where he was coming from-though the worry and anger he felt seemed overwhelming sometimes, she was still unused to such things being felt for her.

'You have to understand-what Morris is to each person is something different. Who he is to you, and then who he is to me would be different and even more so to the people like you met today. Granny doesn't like him, but she never knew anything so wholly bad of him, because he doesn't allow it to air. When I tried to find a job so I could feel better about asking Granny to come and stay with her, he found out-humiliated me in front of Mr. Clark and then made sure I didn't have time to look for anything else.' Just talking about her time with Morris set her hands and arms, and eventually her whole body to shaking. It was as if she were deathly cold and could not stop shivering. She disliked how her body betrayed her. She was not there any more! Why did her whole body quiver with fear, when she didn't think she should feel that fear anymore?

'It's a combination of so many things. Their ignorance of the real Morris (if there is such a thing, I never understood him), the business of their own lives-I can't fault them for that-so many have loved ones fighting, and then the worry of butting in, I am sure it's all or a combination.' It was getting difficult to speak now, her body shook so hard.

'Are you 'lright?' Roger worried, his face all wrinkled and apologetic.

She tried to smile. 'Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me.'

'Anyway.' She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and telling her mind that the shivers ought to leave, and after a moment or two it seemed as if her body listened. 'Poor Granny…'

'Aye, she seemed rather…upset. '

'If you only knew how rare that is!' Belle said, the shivering had thankfully completely subsided over this new topic of conversation. 'She growls and grimaces, but never gets so emotional like she did today. It's Ruby-my nurse friend.' She smiled and he did too in return. Belle liked that smile, wished he did it more, he always seemed half sad or half lost in thought most of the time. She thought perhaps he wasn't used to smiling-she wished she had more time to help him get used to it.

'She's met someone-A guy named Archie. He's everything Ruby is not-quiet, thoughtful, thinks before he acts-or at least this is what I've gathered from Ruby's letters. He was wounded back in November and she helped nurse him, and…' She flicked her free hand that expressed a 'the rest is history' sort of motion. 'Ruby has never been a steady girl-and I think Archie has been good for her. The thing is, Granny had it in her mind that Ruby would come back from the war-mature and ready to settle down-in Storybrooke. They've not always seen eye to eye, but she's brokenhearted that this boy of Ruby's might take her away and Ruby is Granny's last bit of family. They've talked about marriage-I don't know if it's an official engagement with him still in active service, but as long as he's able, it sounds like it's a settled thing.

So you see.' She looked into Roger's eyes hoping he understood. 'You must forgive Granny-she's got a lot on her mind right now. She did try to visit me a couple of times, but Morris always was part of the conversation-always the perfect gentleman while she was there. How was she to know?'

Roger's lips were stuck in a thin line and he didn't seem totally convinced, but he didn't say anything to contradict, only, 'I think you are rather more forgiving than I.' she shrugged, not quite believing that but didn't say anything against it.

The next day found them at Mrs. Taylor's. Roger had told her that he wanted to make sure she was settled before he left, but she knew he must be keen to go and start the new chapter in his life, so she nodded and tried not to be too disappointed that their time together was coming to an end.

Mrs. Taylor's house was a cottage style house, so very dainty on the outside, and would have been rather lovely had it not also been overcome with weeds. Roger looked at the front rather skeptically, but said nothing as they made their way to the front door. Mrs. Taylor was exactly the way she had been the day before-this time dressed in a light pink gauzy dress, tied at the middle, a little lower than her true waist, by a braided belt. In her hand was a black cat with green eyes who eyed them with almost knowing eyes.

'Come in! Come in!' She had said and as she brought them into the house she also said things like. 'Oh, you must call me Mildred, Belle-I just know we'll become fast friends. Don't mind the large shelf just there-I know it's rather dusty, but I can't seem to touch it since my husband passed away. Yes, that's his there, and there, and there.' She would point out the different items of furniture, much too large for the small space. Among all the large bits of furniture and gaudy window coverings, and over-plushed chairs, there were cats-lots and lots of cats. Belle counted at least four before Roger began sneezing. She counted another two before Roger apologized for having to step outside and Belle was led to the first room on the right down the hall. .

'I pulled out everything but the bed and dresser-closet is just there. What do you think, will it do?'

It could have been half the size and twice as gaudy and Belle would have nodded and smiled and so so happy. It was not Belle's taste, but there was a bed, a nightstand, and a closet. There was also a door with a knob and it locked from the inside. Therefore, for the first time in six months-Belle would have some privacy, a room to call her own. She thanked Mrs. Taylor-Mildred, and then explained she must say goodbye to her friend.

'I do hope he's alright. I don't think the cats agreed with him very much. Do you think he needs something to take with him to eat on the way?' Belle thanked her for her kindness but assured her that he was fine-she knew Roger enough to know that he would want neither the trouble, and now that she knew he was allergic to cats, that he might not be able to handle anything coming from such a house!

'Sorry about that' He said when she came out, a handkerchief at his nose, as if he had just finished blowing it-most likely because he had. 'You think you'll be alright then? She seems rather…' He looked uncomfortable trying to find the word.

'Eccentric.' Belle giggled and he smiled back.

'Aye, that's it. All the cats!'

'Yes, cats. I don't think I've ever seen so many in one house before. But-she seems nice, and that's enough for me.'

His forehead wrinkled with some thought she could not read.

And then he had left, and she was alone after a long tea with her landlady. She pulled out some of her stationary that she had packed away. It would be a while before Roger would be able to send something to her letting her know where she could send her letters. However, no matter that it had only been a couple of hours, she already missed him. Therefore-she took out her pen and wrote.

Author's Note:

History Stuff: Mildred Taylor's outfit is based on the more feminine styles of the 1920s. She would have been in her early 30s when she got stuck in the 1920s fashion trends and I saw her less of a flapper and more of a 'long flowy dress' sort of a person. The glasses too would be styled like the 20s. The front of the inn is based on the overhanging walkways that are on the storefronts. I've tweaked it, obviously, but tried to still give that nod to the show. Story Stuff: My apologies for such a long delay in updates. This chapter did not like being written, and once I did finally get a flow going, I was interrupted so many times. My first version of this chapter was dry as dust and made the story go where I didn't want it to, so I had to rework it completely. Then there was trying to figure out where I wanted to start-as that seemed to be the problem with the first versions being so dry. I decided to do a sort of flashback, and I hope that worked for everyone. I am finally pleased with the chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as well! Belle shaking when talking about Morris: Twelve years after leaving my narcissist uncle's home, I will still have the occasional nightmare (they were pretty bad in the beginning) and for years I would shake (exactly like I was freezing) whenever I spoke about him. It was a weird time-I was no longer going through a hard time, I was away from his house, and yet it was like my body was doing something totally on its own, my mind had nothing to do with it. It was really weird. So-poor Belle has to deal with it too. Let me know what you thought of the chapter! Thank you so much for reading!