Chapter One:
Emma ruffled Henry's hair as she sat down next to him at the table. The five year old happily chopped away at his grilled cheese sandwich between enthusiastic recounting of the day's events.
"And then Sarah's grandma came to class and told us a story about an old lady who swallowed a fly. It was really funny."
Emma smiled at his non-stop chatter, amazed at how many words the kid could get out on one breath. She calmly ate her own dinner as he talked.
"John's grandpa came last week when we had our big assembaly with the flag, and Ben's grandma comes a lot to sing with us," Henry said quickly.
Emma gave a nod of approval for him to continue. She wasn't too upset that most days Henry was the primary conversationalist in their relationship; she loved listening to her son as he grew up and became his own person. It slightly made up for the fact that she couldn't be with him as much as she wanted to be.
"Why don't I have a grandma or grandpa?" Henry asked.
The question stopped Emma's sandwich midway to her mouth. She had known from the moment she had decided to keep her son that she would have to field questions about his father for the rest of her life. But she hadn't ever thought that grandparents would be included in those awkward encounters.
"Uh, well…" Emma didn't even know what to say. She wished there was a simple explanation, like she had determined long ago for any questions about Neal. As with all her interactions with Henry, she wanted to be as honest as possible but still make sure he understood. She began to stumble her way through an explanation.
"Well, when I was a baby, my parents… they made a decision. They couldn't take care of me, so they let someone else take care of me for them. Unfortunately, those people couldn't take care of me either, so I just kept going to different families, trying to find the ones that truly loved me. But that didn't happen until you were born, and we became a family, together."
Henry nodded at her words, but Emma could tell they still went slightly over his head. Especially when he followed up with an earnest question, "So, where are my grandpa and grandma?"
Rather than respond, Emma changed the subject and continued their dinner without talk about grandparents or lost relatives. But when she put Henry to sleep and opened up her computer to get some work done, she found herself wandering onto websites about connecting birth parents with their adopted children. Eventually she found herself on a site that contained information about Massachusetts vital records. She copied down a phone number and set it aside, though she already knew that she couldn't rest completely until her search was through.
Two days later, Emma was on a train to Boston, Henry chattering happily next to her. She had claimed they were taking a short vacation, a trip to see some sights and escape the busy-ness of New York City. But her true purpose was to look for any clues she could find about who her parents were. Henry maintained a happy attitude, excited about the chance that he had to take such a grand trip, no matter what the reason was.
Nervous about what she would find if she went directly to the vital records office, she decided that they would do their sightseeing adventures first. They took a walk around the waterfront, and Henry talked at length about the ships that were docked and moving about in the water. Even without a lot of excitement, Henry was riveted by the ships both small and large. One ship in particular, a 17th century period tall mast ship kept Henry's attention so well that Emma had to tear him away when she finally decided it was time to face her purpose.
Emma and Henry walked into the city, making their way towards the vital records office. Emma found the office without too much trouble, but the line inside let her know that it would not be a quick trip. She decided to hand Henry her phone to keep him entertained while they shuffled along through the slow line. It took them a full ten minutes to finally reach the counter, and a middle-aged woman spoke to them in a monotone.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
"I would like a copy of my birth certificate," Emma said, leading with just the bare minimum of information. The woman didn't seem at all concerned about reasons anyway.
"May I see some identification?" Emma provided the necessary documents. The clerk left the desk, moving slowly to a back room. For several more minutes, Emma stood impatiently, trying to calm both her nerves and her excitement.
The woman finally returned with a manila envelope and handed it to Emma. "Here you are. This is an official document, so please keep it in a safe place and treat it as you would any other vital record. That will be twenty-five dollars."
She paid the fee and thanked the clerk. Herding Henry back the way they had come, they left the building and headed back towards the train station. The paper was burning a hole in her purse, but she waited until they were on the train and settled in for their journey home. Henry curled up on the seat next to her and fell asleep almost immediately.
Emma pulled the envelope out of her purse and removed the piece of paper the woman had handed her. After years of searching, she now had the best chance ever of finding her parents. And for the first time ever, she knew details about herself most every other person knew from birth. She was born at 8:15 pm. Her birth weight was 7 pounds, 10 ounces, and she had been 20 inches long.
The most important piece however was below that – mother's and father's names. But even with her birth certificate, there was still information missing. Her mother's name was written as M. Blanchard, nothing more. Emma wanted to be angry at her, wondering how she could be so evasive. But then she saw the information above the line that said father's name. Neat printing declared her father as David Nolan.
She had a name. And if there was one thing that Emma Swan did well, it was use a name to find people.
It wasn't a quick search, and it consumed all of her free time. Three weeks after seeing the name David Nolan, Emma found the person attached to it. She had an address, a phone number and an email. Using that email address, Emma made her first contact with her father.
Dear Mr. Nolan, My name is Emma Swan. I was born Oct. 23, 1983 in Boston, MA. I know you don't know me, but I think I'm your daughter. Attached is a recent picture of me. I know this must be difficult for you to hear, but I was hoping that we could meet if possible. If you are willing to meet, please let me know. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope you have a good day. Sincerely, Emma Swan.
Her signature included her phone number, and she hoped that he would use it. She had agonized for a full hour after writing her final draft before sending it. Eventually however, she hit the small send button and waited anxiously for a response. Two days later, it came.
Emma twisted her napkin hard. She could feel the stares of every single person in the diner on her. Henry was happily oblivious, chatting away in usual fashion. The people around them were friendly enough, but Emma could tell that this small town was insular enough for her presence to be an anomaly. She couldn't imagine how they would react when they found out she was the daughter of one of the residents. She suspected gossip was a favored form of entertainment here.
Fortunately, she was provided with a distraction from her pessimistic thoughts. Unfortunately, it was not in the form of her father.
"Hey beautiful," a man sat down across from her and flashed a smile like he knew he was God's gift to women. He had messy dark hair that was either windswept or had recently hadmultiple fingers running through it. With his bright blue eyes and the chest hair he had on proud display, Emma wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter. At least so far he hadn't tried a cheesy pick-up line.
"So, are you new in town? Because I think I'd remember someone as beautiful as you." Emma's mind had spoken too soon.
"Actually, I'm meeting someone, so if you could just…"
"Are you a pirate?" Henry interrupted her attempt at a dismissal. The man turned to Henry and smiled warmly at the child.
"Now, what makes you think I'm a pirate lad?"
Henry pointed to a tattoo of a heart pierced with a dagger on his wrist, the word Milah written inside it. "Because you have a tattoo and an earring, like a pirate. And you talk like a pirate. So, are you a pirate?"
The man laughed heartily. "Well, let's just say I've been known to do some pretty pirate-like things."
"Like what?" Henry asked.
Emma jabbed the man sharply in the ribs before he had a chance to say anything. "I would appreciate it if you didn't fill my son's head with ridiculous stories."
The man looked back and forth between Emma and Henry, then shook his head. "There's no way that is your son. You're much too young to be a mother."
"She is!" Henry interrupted. "That's my mom. Her name is Emma Swan. And I'm Henry, and I'm five years old!" He held up his hands with his fingers widespread to emphasize his age.
The man chuckled at Henry's enthusiasm, and Emma's initial hatred softened to annoyance. But she still wasn't keen on him sticking around to witness all the gory details of her impending meeting with her father. Bluntly, she cut in before either the man or Henry could say more.
"As he said, he is my son, and the two of us are expecting someone shortly. So, if you would just let us have some time to ourselves?"
Luckily, he was one of the few men who could take a hint. "As you wish," he murmured and left with a wink.
Emma rolled her eyes at the flirt, but couldn't stop herself from watching him saunter out of the diner. When he reached the door, he traded pleasantries with a blonde-haired man in a gray button-up shirt and gun holster. Emma's not-so-secret admirer walked out of the door, and she heard his name for the first time.
"Bye Killian," the blond man said.
The dark-haired man's reply was even more shocking to Emma. "See you later David."
With Killian now officially out of the diner, Emma's eyes were fixed on the figure of David. She silently appraised this man who was her best chance at a family larger than Henry and herself. He smiled warmly at each citizen he made eye-contact with, which was most of the diner. Emma immediately saw where she got her own blonde hair from, as well as her dimpled chin and the tendency to stand with her hands on her hips.
David finally caught sight of her and walked over with an even bigger grin on his face. "Emma?" he asked.
She stood up to greet him. "You must be David." She held out her hand and he responded by holding his arms wide for a hug. Both stood awkwardly, trying to determine the best way to avoid an even more awkward situation. Eventually, David dropped his arms and settled for the handshake Emma offered.
Neither said a word until Henry chimed in. "Is this my grandpa?" he asked, which caused Emma's nerves to wind tightly.
"Grandpa? Do you mean…" David trailed off.
Emma urged him to sit, returning to her own seat as well before she found the strength to speak. "Yeah, this is my son, Henry. But I think we have a lot to discuss before we get to that point."
David nodded, taking the cue that Henry was a topic that was currently off limits. Unfortunately, that left them in awkward silence once again. Finally, David cleared his throat and asked, "Can I get you anything? A drink, some food maybe?"
Henry eagerly replied, "I want hot chocolate!"
David laughed at his enthusiasm. "Hot chocolate? Really? But it's May, and almost 70 degrees outside."
Emma explained her son's odd habit, providing an excuse as she requested the same drink. "We are big hot chocolate drinkers. We have it all year round, no matter the temperature outside."
"Can I have cinnamon in mine?" Henry asked.
"Hot chocolate and cinnamon?" David asked in confusion.
Again Emma found herself explaining her son's proclivities. "It's just a habit we have. I know it must sound weird."
Luckily, David continued to be amused rather than disgusted by their strange ways. "Well, I shouldn't be surprised. Your mother has always liked her chocolate that way."
The mention of her mother brought Emma back to the reason for their trip. She allowed David to order three hot chocolates for them, and then went into the questions that had been swimming through her head since she had received her birth certificate.
"So, David, I have some questions for you," Emma said.
"I suspected. I have some questions for you as well, but I'll let you ask yours first."
Emma nodded her gratitude and started with her least personal question first. "So, you are my father, right?"
David cleared his throat before he responded. "I guess so. Is that what your mother told you?"
Emma shook her head. "No, my mother never told me anything. She gave me up for adoption when I was a baby. I never knew her."
The news brought David's eyebrows up sharply, but he didn't get a chance to respond before a young woman with long brown hair brought them their hot chocolate. Henry, who was completely zoned out of the adult conversation, drank eagerly, but David and Emma both ignored their drinks.
"How did you find me if you didn't know your mother?" he asked.
Emma glanced down at her drink shyly. "Well, I'm pretty good at finding people. Once I got your name from my birth certificate, it wasn't that difficult."
David analyzed the information carefully before he responded. "I'm sorry, I just assumed…. Well, I guess that means that you didn't necessary get your cinnamon habit from your mother directly."
She shrugged her shoulders. The unexpected turn of conversation had stalled the conversation once again. But it gave Emma the chance to ask another burning question. "So, who is my mother?"
There was a big inhale of air before David could answer the question. "That's a long story. Why don't we save it for another time. I want to hear about you. Tell me more about yourself."
Emma hesitated, wondering how much she should push her father to share such important information. But she recognized his desire to get to know her, and so she provided a brief autobiography. "I ended up in the foster system for most of my childhood. When I finally got out, I met Henry's father, and we were together for a while. It didn't work out though, and I've been raising Henry by myself. We live in New York now, Henry's in kindergarten and I work as a bail bonds woman."
David nodded as he listened. Emma turned the tables and asked him the same question. "What about you? Tell me about yourself."
"Well, I've lived here in Storybrooke my whole life. I'm the sheriff here in town, been doing it for ten years now." David looked like he wanted to say more, but he was distracted by the bells over the door. Emma turned to see a blonde-haired woman enter and smile broadly at David.
"Here you are honey. I just went to see you at the station, but you weren't there, obviously," the woman said. She hugged David tightly and gave him a quick kiss.
Emma stared in shock at the interaction. She had no idea who this woman was, but she couldn't stop the rage that grew within her as she considered who this woman could be in relation to David.
David found his voice and finally introduced the two women. "Uh, Kathryn, this is Emma. Emma, this is my wife, Kathryn."
Emma forced herself to smile against Kathryn's shocked expression as they shook hands. Kathryn sat next to David on the booth, and Emma sat as well, though she still struggled to contain her animosity towards the unknown woman.
"So, David, who is this?" Kathryn asked.
Henry finally came out of his haze and gave his own sugar-high-induced excited response. "I'm Henry, and this is Emma, and this is my grandpa!" he said as he pointed to each person in turn.
"Grandpa?" Kathryn asked.
David chuckled nervously. "Yeah, Emma is my daughter. We just found one another, and we were just getting to know one another."
Kathryn's introduction had raised the tension in the air considerably, and Emma sipped at her chocolate to avoid having to speak. David followed suit, and Emma could see he was just as awkward about the entire situation. She decided to save him anymore trouble at this point.
"Well, I have some more questions, but I think that's enough for today. Henry's starting to get a little antsy, and we should get going." As if on cue, Henry began bouncing in his seat and started up a conversation about the day that his friend brought a toad to school. Emma excused the two of them, promising David that they would get together again another day. She and Henry checked into a room at the bed and breakfast attached to the diner, settling in for an indeterminate amount of time. Emma was not leaving until she learned as much as she could about her parents, including her mysterious mother.