He's gone for the day – his father. It's the first time he's been alone with just her, now, since they've arrived back in Storybrooke.
It's 9:44 and he's just stumbled out of his little toddler bed that was just bought a week ago, and she's still downstairs placing the chocolate chips on the pancakes, laying one on his plate in the center, and two smaller ones like ears on top. Milk is placed to the side and the syrup is placed on the counter so he won't get into it and get him and everything else stickier than needed.
She shouldn't really be nervous. He's only a four-year-old, not her date. She shouldn't feel the need to impress him, but she does. She wants to win him over, win his little heart of gold and his head of curls. What better way to do that than with chocolate chip, Mickey-Mouse shaped pancakes?
Her shoulders jump slightly when she hears a bit of a crash, then a small voice saying I'm okay! from the living room. She peeks her head in just in case, but sees he's only knocked the vase of fake flowers onto the rug. No big deal, especially since Robin has him trained nicely to pick things up when he knocks them over.
As his little footsteps come pattering into the kitchen, her smile grows. It's a feeling that she can't shake, being a mom again. Like a mom. Close enough to one. It reminds her of when Henry first started to walk, a wonderful heartwarming feeling and sound to her ears. Now, it's a feeling that makes her womb ache.
Feet enter the kitchen under a curly headed little boy, rubbing his eyes in that sleepy way. He looks up at Regina and smiles slightly, not speaking to her but sitting down at the table with that shy expression on his face.
She glides over to the counter where he's sitting and mindlessly fixes the glass of milk, making sure he sees it well. "I made chocolate chip pancakes. Robin said you like them." She says, but it's almost more of a question than a statement.
When he nods, she lets out a silent sigh of relief. "And I know you like Mickey Mouse, see who it's shaped like?" She asks enthusiastically (the tone of voice that most people use when talking to young, sleepy children).
"It's Mickey." He realizes, smiling and taking his fork.
She asks if he wants syrup, and he says no and goes ahead and starts trying to cut the pancakes. He's so uncoordinated, though, that she eventually offers to help him and cut it all up for him. She sits down next to him with her plate of two pancakes, pouring syrup and feeling little eyes watching her.
After a moment, he speaks up, "Why do you get two?" He asks, eying the stack on her plate.
A little smile creeps onto her lips, "Because I'm a grown up. Besides, you have three." She says, counting the much smaller ears.
"But mine are all smaller than yours..." He says, furrowing his brows. "Why?"
"I'm a grown up." She repeats, keeping the soft smile. She leans into his face a little bit, her eyes widening and bright with happiness, "But I also love pancakes, and I can't have just one." She whispers as though it were a secret, and it makes his smile finally light up across the room.
He goes back to eating without another word, eating one ear, then the next, but stopping at the head. "Where's daddy?" He asks, just now realizing he's gone, apparently.
"Daddy had to go to work, Roland. He got a new job, remember? You get to stay here during the day with me..."
He nods, staying silent. It makes her nervous again. This four-year-old has made her stomach flip upside down more than once in the hour that she's been alone with him. How is she ever going to make this work with him, five days a week, all day? Many cartoons, she thinks.
When Henry was this age, she would put Barney on for him to watch. He loved getting up and dancing to the songs they would play. She even has videos of him somewhere, doing his funny little dances (mostly involving bouncing his little butt up and down, squatting up and down a lot and being mesmerized). That purple dinosaur was like a third family member in their household for a long time until the Scooby-Doo obsession came along. He liked to watch Spongebob once he was a little older, but she found the humor rude and too much for a six year old once he started quoting some of the harsh sentences. Scooby-Doo was all he had for another two years.
Now, she wonders what he likes to watch. It's been a day since she saw him last, but she's never asked what he likes to watch now. She knows he likes to read Wolverine...
"Regina?" Roland asks, picking at the little bites. She answers him softly, looking over and chewing her food. "Are you my new mommy?"
She bites her lip and looks back down, taking a shaky breath. Where's Robin when you need him? "Sweetheart, that um...that's a very good question. But I would say you need to ask your papa." She explains, her tone shaky but gentle.
He sighs and looks back down, gazing blankly at the pancake left. "Well, you cook for me and take care of me. That's what mommies do, right?" He asks, more of a statement, though.
She nods and takes a deep breath, "I suppose you're right."
He looks up with a befuddled expression, "Then why wouldn't you be my mommy?" He asks innocently.
She clears her throat, about to try to explain to him that she's only his mommy when his papa marries her, but she shakes her head, finally giving in. "I can't answer that, sweetheart. But I know your papa can."
The rest of the breakfast is silent. No more questions from him, thankfully.
She tells him after he takes his last bite that he needs to go upstairs and get dressed for the day. He asks where they're going, and when she says nowhere that she knows of, he pouts and asks why he can't stay in his pajamas.
Her chuckle takes him aback, she thinks, and she shrugs, "Well, only on Saturdays do we stay in our PJ's. Today is Monday, though, and we need to get dressed in case we do have to go somewhere." She says, getting up and taking his plate to put in the sink. "Does Papa let you stay in your pajamas?" She asks, raising her brows and almost positive he'll say no.
And he does. Shyly, again. She nods, answering, "I didn't think so." and turning to him to lean against the counter top. "Now, go upstairs and get dressed. Okay?" She says, a little more firmness to her voice this time.
He nods apprehensively and gets up, bopping up to his room and getting dressed.
She cleans the kitchen again, making it neat and pristine like always. It's been a little less neat and pristine, though, lately, because she's been chasing after a four-year-old and a thirty-four-year-old child in an adults body, aka Robin. If she isn't cleaning up after him, he's taking her time by wanting to make out with her on the couch once Roland is tucked away in bed. Not like she minds, though.
Really, she doesn't mind at all. If he isn't asking her to touch or join him in bed, it's her asking or just taking control, herself. Almost every night in the past week that he's been home, they've ended up naked in bed and sweated down before they fall asleep. It's been a damn good week.
But other than that, it's been movies, games, cooking and cleaning. Oh, the cleaning. So many dirty socks and underwear coming from three people that she's beginning to think there's two or three more people sneaking in the house at night and throwing their dirty clothes into her laundry.
Impossible, though.
She hears a grunt from the living room, pulling her away from her last bit of cleaning. "Roland? Are you okay?" She asks from the kitchen, getting a groan for a reply. "Roland?" She asks again, putting the sponge down in the sink and walking out to the living room, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"How do you turn this on?" He asks in an agitated tone, looking frustrated at the television remote.
She can't help her smile as she walks to him, sitting on the couch and asking for the remote. She shows him the button, pointing to the top red one. "Here it is right here. And the channel that you watch is right here...the four and the zero." She explains, pointing to each one that he needs to know and then handing it to him. "Go ahead and try it."
He takes it from her hands and takes a deep breath, as though he's about to figure out the world's greatest secret. His little thumb reaches for the big red button, pressing it and smiling once again as the TV turns on. "I did it!" He shouts proudly. She nods, tells him good job, then tells him the channel to go to again. He concentrates once more, furrowing his brows just like Robin does when he's focusing. He presses the four and then the zero, and smiles again as it turns onto Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. "Mickey!"
She smiles, "I'll be right back to watch it with you. Okay?" She says, pressing a kiss to his head as he nods and sits on the couch.
She doesn't finish her cleaning, only gets up to go turn the running water off. She leaves the sponge in the sink and the soap open, not caring that the kitchen isn't clean. The little boy needs a television companion, and that, by far, is more important than clean kitchens.
Hours later, they've played a game of checkers, go fish, and the game where you turn the cards over and see if the other guesses the right card. Go fish was at least ten rounds. Then, at about 5:30, she started teaching him Crazy 8's.
He isn't getting the hang of it, he's getting frustrated and confused when she says that he can't do that and it's against the rules. His little, but but but's are becoming whinier, and then he says something to make her heart break into pieces. "I want daddy!"
He's only tired, Regina, he needs a nap. He misses his daddy, Regina. It's the first time he's been alone with you, Regina. He's okay. You're okay. You're okay. "D-daddy will be home soon, Roland."
He lays the cards down and pouts, batting the tears from his eyes with his long lashes. She sighs, about to cry, herself. He'll be home soon, Regina. It's okay. Robin will be home soon.
"Sweetheart, he'll be home soon. We were having so much fun...remember? Here, let's play go-fish again and-"
The door opens. "I'm home..." Robin announces from the doorway, taking his coat off and hanging it up. He sees Roland's teary face and watery frown, "What's wrong, my boy?" He asks, walking to the table and sitting in one of the empty chairs.
When he doesn't answer, Regina explains that he just got frustrated with the game. Robin nods, has an understanding expression on his face, and takes the cards to shuffle them again. "Well, maybe we should try again?" He says in a calm voice, and Roland finally nods lightly.
Regina moves her mouth, silently telling Robin thank you, and goes back to playing the game.
..
…
Later on, after Roland has been tucked in for a few hours and Robin has gotten a shower from his long day at work, they're cuddled up on the couch and discussing their days.
Robin explains what exactly he does at his job with the cannery, and Regina complains that it's no wonder he smells so strongly of fish. They converse a little bit back and forth with the flickering of the television dancing on their bodies when Robin finally asks how her day went with Roland.
"It was actually really great." She says, tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear, biting her lip in that cute little way that she knows he loves. "We played games, watched some television...it was fun." She says, nodding and smiling at the memories.
He smiles, "He didn't ask you anything crazy...did he?"
"Crazy?" She asks, furrowing her brows and sitting forward slightly, moving from his embrace. "Crazy, how, Robin?"
He smirks a little, looking back to the TV and sighing. "Well...I may have been talking to him last night about mommies and daddies before bed. He asked, so I explained."
"Why would he be asking, Robin...?" She asks in a low tone, grumbling a little. "What the hell did you tell him?"
His smirk grows into a full smile as he slips off the couch and onto one knee, gently taking her hand as her mouth gapes. "I wanted to wait until I could afford a nice ring, but I can't wait any longer."
She gives a watery smile, looking down at him and waiting for the words, will you marry me? before she nods so frantically that it gives her a slight headache after it all. "Of course I will." She says and bites her lip, "On one condition..."
His face contorts and looks nervous, furrowing his brows, "And that is...?"
"You don't mind a pregnant bride."
...
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