Chapter Text
It’s a strange life. One moment Rumold Gold is fishing puzzle pieces out of the sink drain, perfecting the pb&j sandwich (hint: toast the bread), and scrubbing finger painting prints off of his dining room table. The next moment he’s paying exorbitant tuition fees for his son to receive the finest education with only the occasional text or phone call (“Pop, i swear the money isn’t for beer”) to shake up his solitude. Then finally he gets a visit from his beautiful boy - the visit. Neal Baeden “Bae” Gold walks through the door of his childhood home with the warm glow of love in his eyes. It’s not the same as his previous trysts. This love is thrilling yet content, exuberant but still grounded. His boy’s words of commitment and trust are tinged with the earnestness of his youth. This is it. True Love. Golden hair curled around apple cheeks and hazel eyes has captured Bae’s heart. A ring has been bought and Rumold dutifully waits until after Bae leaves to shed tears of joy and loss. Bae is off to pop the question to a one Miss Emma Swan, and Rumold is left to another night in his study with only the company of a glass of scotch and echoing silence. It’s a strange life. Only a parent can understand the chaos a child can cause. The physical and emotional turmoil separated by stretches of uneasy boredom. Rumold had started his parental journey with his wife Milah, and had taken great comfort in the first year of Bae’s life knowing that he had someone by his side. Milah was never very invested in Bae and took a more hands-off approach to parenting, but Rumold had been grateful he wasn’t completely alone.
He sighed as the sweet burn of whisky did nothing to abate the heat from his embarrassment when he remembered how pathetically devoted he’d been to his ex-wife. He’d been so afraid of being a single-parent, of being abandoned to shoulder the burden on his own that it had been another two years before he realized that he was a single parent in every way but name alone. Early in their marriage, he had begun slowly acquiring real estate in their small idyllic town of Storybrooke, Maine. By the time Bae was born, one third of the town’s residents were his tenants. He’d been so wrapped up in work and in caring for Bae he was oblivious to Milan’s true intentions every time she offered to help with the smaller requests of his tenants. He clamped his eyes shut willing himself not to think of how he’d actually been grateful whenever she went to “take care of” a leaky faucet or broken thermostat. He knew she yearned for a grander lifestyle, and his young naïveté had promised her whatever she wanted when they had first met at a pub in his homeland of Scotland. It’s what had led them to immigrate to the States, but then Bae made an unexpected appearance and Rumold had vowed to give him the stable loving home he’d never had. Somewhere in his endeavors to provide, Milah fell through the cracks. Deep down he knew she wasn’t happy, but it never occurred to him that she’d leave her own son. A ridiculous notion. After all, his mother had left him.
Their relationship came to a spectacular end when Milah ran off with an odious idiot named Killian. Actually, more like sailed off. Killian owned a boat and fancied himself a pirate. Rumold snorted at the image of the dark haired Irishman preening at the bow of a dingy, open shirt flashing copious amounts of chest hair while Milah frantically bails water out of the slowly sinking vessel. It was one of several satisfying daydreams he’d concocted about the couples’ demise. In truth, he’d never met the man and he didn’t care to. Milah’s sudden exodus from his and Bae’s life, while mortifying and painful, meant that the divorce and custody of Bae were cleared up quickly. Rumold had hired a private investigator with the little money he had at the time, and it had been enough to dig up enough dirt on her that should she ever get the notion of using Bae as a bargaining tool for alimony, he’d be more than prepared for a fight.
He sighed and leaned back into the cool leather of the couch in his study trying to clear his mind of such unpleasantness. It didn’t matter anymore. Bae was a grown man and had no interest in seeing Milah even if she did reach out to him. For all they knew she could be dead. They hadn’t heard anything from her in over a decade. Thank goodness for small kindnesses. As for his soon to be daughter-in-law Emma Swan he had mild suspicions about her intentions. She was an orphan and had essentially raised herself while being passed along the foster home circuit. She seemed genuine in her love for Bae even if it was expressed from a heart with rough edges. However, like Milah, she could simply be clinging to the first dependable person she encountered, and Bae was as dependable as the sun rising in the east. Rumold kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie giving in to the urge to sleep in the study for the night. Something about sleeping in his own bed made the loneliness worse. His eyelids sliding closed, he remembered the first time he met Miss Swan.
Rumold paced the length of his car waiting for his son to pick up the phone. He was going to be late meeting his son for breakfast at Granny’s diner. His cherished black Cadillac was currently hooked up to a tow truck, its operator a few feet away wiping nervous beads of sweat from his forehead with a dirty shirtsleeve. The young man was torn between doing his job and crossing the feared Mr. Gold. He let out a cough, “Mr. Gold, I’m so sorry but the new sheriff insisted…” he gestured weakly to the car, “I’m sure the unpaid parking tickets are just a misunderstanding, a mistake! Probably a system error, but I was given strict orders to tow it in today.” Rumold produced a low growl in response just as Bae picked up on the other end of the line. “Woah, Pops everything ok?”
“Bae I’m afraid I’m going to be late. Having some…..car issues,” he gave the operator a withering stare.
“The caddy? Oh shit. Well do you want me to pick you up? I do owe you for all the rides you gave me after I wrecked my bike.” Rumold glanced up at the approaching sheriff’s car, choosing to ignore his son ’ s use of rude humor, “That won’t be necessary Bae. I’ll have this fixed in no time. See you soon.” Ringing off, he stalked toward Storybrooke’s newest resident. This nuisance with bouncing blonde curls clearly didn’t have any idea who she was messing with and he intended to give her an education.
It wasn’t long before Rumold was strolling through the entrance of Granny’s diner with a smug look on his face. A quick threatening phone call to a contact at the DMV and his parking tickets were confirmed to be a convenient computer error. He had demanded an apology from the young Sheriff and followed up with a reminder that rent was due in full on the first of every month. Being the landlord to 90% of Storybrooke’s population had its advantages. Rumold slid into the booth across from Bae pleased to see the steaming cup of coffee waiting for him. “Our illustrious Mayor’s attempts to annoy me with her new parking restrictions in front of my shop have been thwarted.”
Bae grinned, “For a friendly rivalry you and Regina play dirty. How many parking tickets were you up to?”
“Enough that our new little Sheriff thought she could impound my car,” he inhaled the aroma of freshly roasted coffee. “Now, tell me what is so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone and insisted on meeting. You’re not getting another motorcycle are you?” He looked up from the menu he was perusing and saw a grimace on Bae’s face with a tinge of red embarrassment.
“What happened with the Sheriff?”
Nonplussed Rumold signaled to the waitress for a top off on Bae’s cup, “Don’t worry Bae, I’m not in trouble with the law if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Yeah but did you do your whole intimidation thing?”
Rumold scoffed, “I simply suggested that she may have better things to do with her time than deal with parking violations. And that I own her building. Now what’s your news?”
Bae groaned and swept his fingers through his short curly hair, “Well….actually, I’ve met someone and it’s getting pretty serious. I wanted you to meet her. So… she’s going to join us for breakfast. She’s just running late. Got caught up at work.”
“Bae that’s wonderful, son,” he took Bae’s hand giving it a quick squeeze, “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Yeah well, hold onto that feeling and remember that first impressions shouldn’t be held against people,” he said nodding in the direction behind Rumold . As he turned to meet the woman who had captured Bae’s heart, Rumold was greeted with the sight of blonde curls, startled eyes, and sunlight glinting off of a sheriff’s badge.
Despite the rocky start and an awkward breakfast that Bae will never let them live down, Rumold had developed a quiet respect for Miss Swan. They both seemed to have come to an unspoken understanding that Bae mattered more than any disagreements they might have. Bae is without contest the one purely good thing in their lives - like him, Emma has a past of questionable moral and legal activity - and thus Bae’s love means more than anything. They owed it to him to be cordial if not friendly. And despite his misgivings, he couldn’t deny that Bae was a grown man capable of making his own decisions. If Rumold wanted to continue having a place in his life he needed to embrace Miss Swan in it as well.
A few weeks later, engagement ring secured on Emma’s left hand, Bae brought them together for breakfast again and suggested they all start spending more time together. Rumold didn’t dare refuse. It began with more trips to Granny’s and escalated to movie nights at Rumold ’s house. It was difficult not to feel like a third wheel even in his own home. From the vantage point of his leather chair, under the gentle light of the movie playing before them, he would notice the small subconscious actions of two people in love; Emma and Bae cozy on the couch with Bae’s arm draped over her casually massaging her shoulder. Emma nestled into him closing her eyes, soaking in his warmth, and murmuring something that made Bae chuckle. It was the way Emma knew how Bae takes his coffee after dinner, and how Bae knows that Emma prefers beer served in the bottle. He often found himself wondering, did he ever have that with Milah? They must have especially in the early days, but now all he could recall was stunted conversations and awkward kisses. One night in particular they were all sitting down to watch The Godfather and Rumold was groaning about being yet again outvoted on the choice of movie. “You know, pop, there’s a very simple solution to your dilemma. Have someone on your side join us for movie night.” Bae’s warm brown eyes practically glowed with mischief. Taking the bate Rumold responded, “and whom do you suggest I invite?” With a glance between them, Emma and Bae’s unanimous reply felt a tad rehearsed, “Belle!”
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Rumold paced the back room of his shop his cane adding to the rhythmic footfalls of his Italian leather shoes. He can do this. He can walk out that door, cross the street, enter the library, and ask Belle out on a date. A proper date.“You can do this,” he muttered and urged himself into the front of his shop towards the door. His hand reached for the doorknob and just as quickly pulled back and turned around. In what felt like the blink of an eye he found himself sitting at his desk in the back of his shop - as if he hadn’t moved at all. He let out a defeated groan.
Belle was the town’s librarian and newest resident since Emma’s arrival. From the moment she’d stepped into his pawn shop Rumold had been floored by her beauty - the sight of her cerulean eyes and long chestnut locks made it difficult to breathe. Her refreshing Australian accent softened from her time living in the States did amazing things for his high blood pressure. Keep in mind he wasn’t a complete fool. A woman’s beauty wasn’t enough to keep him indefinitely enraptured. Which is why after fifteen minutes of being on the receiving end of her quick wit, understated intellect, and kindness he gladly allowed himself to fall completely in love with her. Every time his shop bell rang and her signature high heels clicked on the hardwood floors, she lit up the place like an eternal sunrise. Initially she had needed his help to open the derelict town library. As the building’s owner, he ended up seeing her almost every day advising her on building permits and even using his antiquing contacts to stock the “Rare Book” section she insisted on having. They had developed a tentative friendship. Business meetings transformed into discussions about art, travel, and, of course, books. When the library finally opened his heart had ached because he knew his time enjoying Belle’s company had come to an end.
Then, one blustery November morning, she had swept into his shop like a leaf on the wind, offering coffee and a casual chat before she had to open the library for the day. He vaguely remembered it had been under the pretense of asking him to fix a faulty light fixture, but after that day it had become their morning ritual. Almost every day one of them showed up at their respective work places with coffee and pastries from Granny’s diner. Rumold had to start actually using his small home gym for more than physical therapy for his old ankle injury; it was either that or send all of his suits to the tailor to be let out.
Finally, the overwhelming desire to see Belle beat his nerves. The serenity only found in a library enveloped him the second he crossed its threshold. Belle was in her usual spot behind the circulation desk. She sat on her stool, a book in front of her, and her hand propping her head up. She belonged there. It was like the concept of a library was created with her in mind. She glanced up from her book at his approaching footsteps and beamed up at him.
“Well hello! What brings you to my neck of the woods?” She folded her book away under the desk and glanced at his hands, “and without an offering of coffee?”
Rumold stammered, “Oh damn, I’m sorry Belle. I’ll be right back.” Before he could hightail it to the diner, Belle reached over the gleaming mahogany desk and gently grasped his arm.
“Rumold, I’m just kidding! I’m always happy to see you and it doesn’t hinge on coffee and pastries. In fact, I’m extra glad you stopped by because I finally got the new Ling Ma book in stock. Promise me that you’ll read it with me? I need someone to discuss it with.” She had taken his hand and led him to the display of new arrivals plucking the aforementioned book from its stack. Arranging herself on one of the comfy reading chairs she motioned for him to take its neighbor.
“Of course I’ll read it. The only problem is finding the time.”
“Is Neal still filling your weeks with family bonding time? I think it’s sweet. Besides, now that wedding planning is well under way, I’m sure he’ll ease up.”
Rumold scoffed, “I doubt wedding planning will be that strenuous. Knowing those two they’ll have the ceremony at city hall and stroll over to Granny’s for pancakes. We are talking about the couple that got engaged over a box of heart-shaped donuts.”
“Hmmm true. It’s not exactly my idea of romance, but if they’re happy that’s all that matters.”
“Yes I suppose,” Rumold gently cleared his throat and fiddled with the pages of the book, “You know, Belle, speaking of romance Bae has suddenly become concerned with my love life or lack thereof,” he chuckled, “I think all of this time spent together is planting the ‘matchmaking’ seed in his brain.” He glanced at her face for some sign of whether or not he should go on. It was one of the things he loved about her - she was an open book whereas he was a sealed vault. Right now her countenance was stock-still bordering on impassive. He cautiously decided to continue, “The last thing I want is him worrying about me. It’s a parent’s job to worry not the other way around. So… I guess what I’m trying to say is…well, if it’s not too much trouble”
“Rumold . It’s ok.”
Belle’s interruption cleared whatever he had meant to say from his brain. She slowly reached for his hand as if afraid he would recoil like a scared puppy. “I think I know what you’re trying to ask,” she said in a soothing tone, “In fact, I’ve suspected for some time. Such a secret must be a terrible burden. Feeling like you can’t share it with anyone or even tell the one person closest to you. I know you’re a very private person, but I want you to know that you can ask me anything.”Her eyes shined in the low lamplight. A sudden rush of relief brought oxygen back to his body and he took a relaxing breath. “That’s wonderful Belle! I admit I’ve been rather worried about broaching the subject with you. Things have been going so well between us, and I value our friendship more than anything. I don’t want to do anything to ruin it.”
“Of course you don’t and you never could.”
“So, would you mind joining me for the next family get together? It can be a simple movie night at my house. Wait, what am I saying? We should go on a proper date first.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with Rumold , but I think it’s important for us to decide on some ground rules before we move forward.”
Oh his Belle, she’s so thoughtful and caring. His Belle. Of course she wants ‘ground rules.’ She knows what a big step this is for him. He hasn’t dated anyone since Milah. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit worried about how the town gossip mill will be grinding out half-truths and utter nonsense about them. Not that he cared for himself, but for Belle’s sake he didn’t want her getting hurt. It’s obvious he’s getting the better end of the deal here; she’s beautiful, whole, and far too young for him. She is his antithesis.
He grabbed his cane beside him and buttoned his suit jacket. “Why don’t I go and get us that coffee, and then we can talk about the best way to move forward in our relationship?”
Her smile flickered but remained in tact. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” As he walked past her she stopped him, “And Rumold , I want you to know that I think Neal will accept whatever makes you happy.”
“Oh I know,” he patted her hand reassuringly, “But he has a lot on his plate right now and my being the third wheel is the last thing he needs to be concentrating on.”
She gave his arm a squeeze, “Good. That’s good. And when you’re finally ready to tell him you’re gay, I’ll be there for you in any way I can. In the meantime, I’ll be your ‘fake-date’ whenever you need. Especially if you need a plus one for the wedding!”
She crossed the room headed in the direction of her office and called over her shoulder, “If Granny has any blueberry muffins will you get one for me? I missed lunch!” Rumold stood stock still staring at her retreating figure.
Gay?!