The next morning at Granny's, Snow was still struggling to keep Charming's curiosity at bay.

"What was the matter? Why are she and Henry back early? Why isn't Mr. Gold with them? What did she want to talk to you about?"

Snow was not very good at keeping secrets. She was more one for brutal honesty. Perhaps it had something to do with her stepmother keeping her hatred a secret for nearly ten years before eventually murdering her father and trying to have her killed as well. In any event, as she sat with her husband over coffee, she found a need to find something else to distract his attention from asking questions about what Emma had shared with her the night before.

"You know, I've been thinking…" she began.

"Don't change the subject," he argued.

"…about what you said," Snow persisted. "About missing our home." That caught Charming a bit off guard. He deigned to be silent and leaned forward, intrigued. "And I'm still not sure I want to go back, but I do miss it sometimes."

"We all do," Charming said, comforting her by reaching an arm around her shoulder.

"So why don't we bring a little bit of home to us?" She turned to see Charming's reaction.

"What did you have in mind?"

A large smile spread across Snow's face.

"I want to throw a ball!" she said brightly.

"I'm sorry, a what now?" Emma flopped down in the seat next to them, looking skeptical. If she wasn't looking for signs of stress, Snow might have missed the dark circles around her eyes that meant she had not slept well, but she did and a surge of motherly affection swelled in her for her daughter's struggles. But she shook all that aside.

"A ball!" she repeated. "We used to throw them all the time. The last one we had was for Ella's wedding, and that was ages ago."

"I think it's a great idea," Charming said. "It will really help people who are feeling homesick to have a little taste of home for a night."

"We can make it just like home," Snow said, getting excited. "We can have a live band orchestra and a feast and everyone can wear their ball gowns."

"Yleck!" Emma said, taking a forking and beginning to pick at the leftover home fries on her mother's plate.

"We can throw it in honor of Emma!" Snow suggested brightly, ignoring her daughter's reaction. The two parents turned gleefully to regard their daughter in front of them. Emma froze with the potato halfway to her mouth. She blinked at her parents.

"Me?"

"You always need a reason to throw a ball," Snow said matter-of-factly.

"And you're the perfect person to celebrate," Charming said. "You broke the curse."

"Can't you guys celebrate someone else?" Emma whined. "Dances… balls… aren't really my thing."

Before the Charmings could retort with an argument in their favor, Emma's pager beeped where it sat on the table.

"I'll get it," Charming offered, sliding from the booth. "You finish your breakfast. And you," he said turning to Snow and placing a kiss on her lips, "keep trying to convince her."

"Oh don't worry," Snow said, turning back to Emma and smiling. "I have my ways."

Emma rolled her eyes as she chewed. There was a light ringing of a bell as Charming left the diner.

"Ok, we won't throw it for you, but you at least have to agree to come," Snow said. Emma groaned.

"Seriously?" she said. "Where did this idea even come from, I've never heard you talk about throwing a ball before?"

"Well to be perfectly honest," Snow said, lowering her voice and catching Emma's eye, "it came from me trying to find something to occupy your father's mind and get him off trying to pester out of me what you and I were talking about last night."

"Oh," Emma said. "Right." She looked down at the plate and began pushing the toast crusts around with her fork.

"Speaking of which," Snow continued. "How did you leave things with Gold? Did he tell you when he'd be coming back?"

Emma just shrugged.

"No. For all I know he and Neal – I mean, Bae – could make amends and just end up living in New York together and making up for lost time. Which would be fine by me. Maybe he'll never be back."

When Snow did not respond right away, Emma looked up from her plate. Snow was looking past her shoulder with a glazed stare.

"What?" she said.

"Or maybe he'll be back today," she said, not changing the focus of her glare. Emma mimicked her and saw what she was looking at. Mr. Gold's car had just pulled up next to his pawnshop. Two people were getting out of the car. One was Mr. Gold. The other was his son.

Emma swung back around, her eyes wide, locking them with Snow.