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The last time Belle had seen Ruby had been three years before, when she had managed to save enough money for a plane ticket and a week long vacation in Sidney. After that, they had only chatted occasionally through Skype or any other modern device the terrible internet reception in Storybrooke allowed. But she had not changed one bit and her hug still made Belle feel safe and at home.
“Welcome to Maine,” Ruby said, a little choked up.
Belle held on for a very long time, crying on her shoulder, unable to distinguish grief from happiness in that moment.
“You got taller,” she muttered, making Ruby laugh.
“It’s your shoes,” the other girl said, taking a step back. “You’re wearing flats.”
“Yes,” Belle replied, wiping her tears away. “I know. I hate them. But they’re good for long trips.”
“How was the flight?”
“I cried all the way here. No,” she said, trying to prevent Ruby from taking her suitcase. “I can do it-”
“You’re not doing anything, Missy. Nobody should have to deal with mourning and heavy luggage in one day.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Belle followed her to the big red car she was driving.
“Better than in pictures, right?” Ruby said, putting her luggage in the trunk. “I had to save tips for a year!”
“I thought you’d have outgrown the red by now.”
“Never. It’s my thing.”
Belle got in the car.
When Ruby fumbled with her keys, she said, “Thank you for picking me up.”
“I’m your best friend,” Ruby said, as if the issue wasn’t even up for debate after eight years of living in different continents. “Of course I’m picking you up.”
Despite the situation, Belle managed to smile.
“Is your uncle coming too?”
“His passport expired.”
“Sucks.”
“I told him to update it, but he kept delaying it. ‘When do I ever have the time to travel anyway, Belle?’ Stubborn mule.” Belle sighed, then grew quiet. “Just like dad.”
In the silence that followed, Ruby reached out to squeeze her hand for as long as traffic allowed her, but didn’t say a word. She had already said everything she could two days before, from condolences to vows of helping her through it. Graham had insisted that he should be the one to notify her, but Ruby took the phone from his hands and said that was a special situation. And what did Graham know of Belle anyway? They hadn’t seen each other in eight years.
I haven’t seen anybody in eight years, Belle thought, looking out of the window. They probably wouldn’t recognize her. Or remember her. That is, if there was still anybody in town that had been a part of her life, once upon a time.
Ruby only ever mentioned three people during their sporadic talks: Billy, whom she had dated for a few weeks, her grandmother, either because she was worried about her health or because Granny was driving her crazy, and Graham, who was now the Sheriff. Other than that, she hardly ever talked about the people of Storybrooke.
To be fair, Belle hardly ever asked either.
She expected to drive into town and recognize nothing. But as it turns out, Ruby was not lying when she told her Storybrooke never changed. The first thing Belle spotted in the dark was Mr. Gold’s pawnshop, the exact same sign hanging over the window, just as it was when she left. It filled her with a pleasant nostalgia.
“Mr. Gold’s still in business.”
Ruby smiled. “He is.”
“Dad often said he was ruthless with the loans,” Belle said. “But I didn’t think he’d kept the shop running.”
“I think it’s his hobby more than his business. Eccentric rich people, right?”
Belle giggled. “Does Bae ever visit?”
“Actually, he’s the one who flies to New York every other month. Bae is an artist now,” Ruby said, giving Belle a large, proud smile.
“Really?”
“Yup. Got an artist name and everything. Neal Cassidy.” Ruby giggled. “Graham and I mocked him mercilessly for it, but he didn’t mind.”
“I remember that,” Belle said, with a little smile.
“Can’t be. You had already left.”
“He showed me his drawings once, when he was visiting. Never signed them with his real name. I think that was the last time I saw him. They were quite good.”
“That was the last time he payed us a long visit,” Ruby said. “Nowadays, he just pops up for a day or two. And he’s not very sociable. I only see him because he stays in the B&B. But he’s still nice. Said I should visit, meet his girlfriend and his kid.” Ruby sighed. “Honestly, I don’t blame him for wanting to stay away. A whole world outside this town, and I’m missing out.”
Belle didn’t look at her. “It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Ruby seemed eager to debate the issue, as always, but then remembered it might not be the best time to pick a fight, even a harmless, familiar one, and decided to change the subject.
“He nearly divorced his wife last year.”
“Bae?”
“Mr. Gold.”
Belle snapped her head to look at Ruby. Ruby gave her a knowing smile, happy to see she had hooked her friend in a juicy piece of gossip. That would keep her from thinking about her problems.
“Really?”
“Yes. She had a drinking problem or something. He left the house and everything.”
“Wow.”
Mrs. Gold was that kind of person who rubbed everybody the wrong way, be it for sending her plate back in Granny’s too many times, or for looking down on other people because of whom she was married to. But Mr. Gold, as far as Belle remembered, adored her. Did everything in his power to make her happy.
“Didn’t last long, though,” Ruby continued. “He came back after three weeks. And no one’s seen her at the bar anymore, so I guess everything is okay now-”
“Where are you taking me?” Belle interrupted, watching her take the wrong turn after the traffic light. His father’s house was on the opposite direction.
“Granny’s,” Ruby said, unapologetic. “You’re not going to sleep alone tonight.”
“Ruby, I just want to get this over with.”
“I know. And that is a terrible idea. Besides, it’s late and there is nothing you can do until morning. Come home with me. Have some lasagna. Tomorrow I’ll drive you to your father’s place.”
She waited to see if Belle would argue. She didn’t.
“Gaston is in town.”
Belle shouted, “What?”
“He’s been camping in front of your father’s shop to see when you’re going to show up. He’s not staying with us,” Ruby said, anticipating the next question. “He tried, but Granny said we were booked. Had to give you a fighting chance.”
“Why? What does he want?”
Ruby didn’t smile when she said, “You know what he wants.”
Belle sighed. “Not this again.”
“He followed you to Sidney. Did you really really think he wouldn’t drive from Washington?”
“I thought he’d stop trying after what happened in Sidney,” Belle said, remembering the feeling of panic she had experienced that afternoon, when she got back from college. Gaston had been waiting in front of her uncle’s shop. A diamond ring, a dozen roses, and a marching band. And a dozen spectators, all awaiting her enthusiastic “yes”. The humiliation had been so grand that she had almost agreed to it, just to get it over with.
Maybe it would have been easier to say “yes” and break it off privately, because once she said “no”, he bullied her into telling him why not. With audience participation.
“Say yes, honey!”
“C’mon, he’s really cute!”
“You’re such a beautiful couple!”
“Lets have a kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
After ten minutes of it, she finally snapped that she did not love him anymore and that he should leave her alone.
Twenty random bystanders booed her.
She had never been so furious in her life.
Now Ruby was smirking. “What is it that you did that got him so hooked up?”
“I rejected him. That is what I did.”
“Have we finally reached the point where we can laugh the whole proposal thing off?” Ruby asked, eagerly.
“I’d give it a couple more years,” Belle answered, very serious.
“Sorry,” she replied, biting her lip to hold back a giggle. “Just so you know, I’ve been spitting in his coffee for the past eight years.”
“Aww!”
“Hey, I’m on your side.”
And they both shared a laugh that lasted until Ruby pulled the car in front of Granny’s.