A/N: Ok, so this is actually going to be three parts. Part two is a bit shorter but part 3 should be a bit longer and we'll get to hear from someone other than Mary Margaret.

Honestly, the whole idea behind this little ficlet was that eating out in a city like New York is time consuming and expensive no matter where in NYC you live, and doing so for any long-term amount of time is mildly inconceivable. So how would Emma have coped with that while raising Henry and with her false memories of having raised Henry for his whole life? My answer? Regina might have spiced up her memories a bit.

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"Hi Regina. It's Mary Margaret. Listen, I just had something I wanted to ask you…"

Mary Margaret could practically hear her stepmother rolling her eyes over the phone. It was almost as loud as Emma's continued scowling behind the counter.

"If this is about asking for more of Henry's old baby toys you're going to have to send your husband over to get them because I'm not carrying another load of stuffed animals up those stairs. Besides, I think-" Regina paused abruptly for a moment, her voice softer when she spoke again. "I think Roland's gotten attached to one of the stuffed monkeys."

Mary Margaret laughed lightly at the image and it's implications. "No, this is something else. Emma seems to think when you gave her those false memories after Pan's curse that you may have embellished them a bit. Maybe when it comes to certain domestic and culinary talents and tendencies?" She tried to keep her tone light, she really did. Mary Margaret didn't want a repeat of the awkward defensiveness she'd seen in her daughter only minutes before.

Regina was quiet on the other end of the line, and even though Mary Margaret couldn't hear so much as a puff of breathe from the other woman she knew she was still there. Just like she knew from the continued silence that Regina had in fact given Emma those memories.

"Why do you ask?" And there were the walls going up, brick by brick. Clearly Mary Margaret was going to have to figure out some new way of talking gently to people if all she ever managed to do was make everyone she talked to today suspicious.

It was a sad commonality she'd noticed between her daughter and stepmother that both were quick to defensiveness when they felt at all threatened. Their lives till now hadn't exactly given them much choice to be anything else, but Mary Margaret hoped that could change over time now that they'd each started new relationships, Regina with Robin and Emma with Hook (Somehow the notion of Regina dating was less odd to Snow than her own daughter dating. She had no problem with Hook; he'd proven himself time and again. Maybe it was something that came with being a mother, like the 'mom' look?).

"It's nothing bad! I promise! I actually wanted to say thank you."

Those must have been the magic words because Regina's voice on the other end of the phone nearly cracked in disbelief.

"I'm sorry?"

Emma chose that exact moment to decide she was fed up with the idea of people being grateful someone had magically imbued her with knowledge of a kitchen. "You know, I suddenly feel like getting take out, so I'm just gonna go somewhere people make food for me," Emma declared, grabbing her leather coat off the rack, the turnover batter laying forgotten on counter.

"Wait a sec, Emma! Where are you going?" But Emma didn't so much as turn around, instead waltzing out the door in a huff and angrily forcing her arms through the sleeves. Mary Margaret watched from the window as her daughter left the apartment building to walk down the street towards the town center. Emma's shoulders were pulled up in irritation and there was an angry jaunt to her step that reminded Mary Margaret almost of a child stomping in frustration at having her favorite toy taken from her (Maybe she ought to ask Dr. Hopper if all these motherly comparisons were actually normal. After all, it was one thing to imagine an infant as cute yet pouty, but her grown daughter was something else entirely).

At least Emma didn't slam the door shut. The last thing Mary Margaret wanted was for her son to wake up from his nap so quickly.

"Am I to assume Ms. Swan isn't particularly grateful for these new skills?"

"So you heard that?" Mary Margaret sighed and rubbed her fingers against her forehead. "Um, yeah, I would say so."

"Am I also to assume you want me to talk to her, face to face? Maybe reassure her that knowing her way around a kitchen won't somehow put her role as Savior at risk?"

"I don't know if that's quite what's bothering her, but yes? I think? It might have more to do with not knowing she'd been magically gifted with something she was actually starting to enjoy. I'd almost say she feels a little, I don't know, betrayed?"

Regina let out a heavy breath that echoed over the phone. Mary Margaret imagined the other woman was mulling the whole thing over in her head, trying to plan the encounter ahead of time and find some way to diffuse the situation before it got worse.

Emma may have been given false memories of raising Henry, but between the three women, only Regina had actually raised a child. Henry may not have been hers by blood, but she had been there for every fever, dirty diaper, and temper tantrum the boy may have had growing up. Compared to Emma and Mary Margaret, she was simply the most experienced mother of the three. If anyone could talk Emma down and reassure her right now, it would be Regina.

Just another way Mary Margaret was realizing she had failed Emma as a mother.

"I'll see what I can do."

Mary Margaret let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thank you Regina. You don't know how much this means to me-"

"I said I'd see what I can do. That doesn't mean you need to write me an ode or what not."

"Right, of course. I saw her walk downtown so wherever she went-"

"Two guesses where she went, and since one of those guesses is out on some stolen boat sailing with my son for the afternoon, I would say she went to-"

"Granny's." Mary Margaret felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards; somehow proud she had managed to say the punch line before Regina.

She heard Regina make a sound under her breath that sounded like an underhanded snort. "No need to interrupt, it's rude, but yes, Granny's. I'll head there now."

The monotonous dial tone that suddenly filled Mary Margaret's ear told her the conversation had ended. She hung the phone back up and paced the room for several moments.

She really ought to take a nap herself. Neal was still waking up every couple of hours throughout the night for various reasons, whether it was for a feeding, he was cranky, or he didn't like where he'd been set down in his crib. She would need her rest.

But Mary Margaret was too worked up to entertain the thought of an afternoon nap for herself. When it came to Emma it was only too easy for Mary Margaret to let herself be consumed by guilt for not knowing enough about her daughter and just not being there for her. For not having had the time to learn her expressions, her likes and dislikes, the best way to get her to open up about anything that was bothering her. It hurt more than she liked to admit, and she could already admit to herself that it hurt a lot.

But she was trying to take the time now, even with the arrival of her newborn son, and she relished every moment she had. Every little moment she spent with her daughter was another lesson and another blessing in her eyes. And for those times she didn't know yet how to approach her daughter there was always someone in Storybrooke who had an experience or an idea that would help. Whether it was Regina reprising her role as a mother, or friends and neighbors sending over weeks worth of pasta and salads for her and David, everyone in Storybrooke was willing to help when needed.

Maybe that was the proper protocol for neighbors sharing food; to just be there for each other when times got tough.

Snow could happily live with that.