A/N – Thanks so much for your warm reception of this story. Below are important notes to keep in mind as you read:
There will be small time jumps between chapters. Most are a month, sometimes more. I will give you a time stamp within each chapter to help.
Emma is ten in this, but at times may come across as younger in her reactions to things or extreme acting in one way or another. She has an underlying issue she cannot help that is unknown to both her and Regina currently, but will be revealed in time.
**Mild Trigger warning for this chapter** – past abuse mentioned and sensitive topics of such will be throughout this story.
Chapter 2 -The Telling
"Tell me again, about when you were in Peru?" Emma asked, pushing her bangs off her wet forehead as her aunt washed her back gently with a sponge foaming with an apricot body wash.
Regina smiled at her niece's insistence, leaning back a bit from her perch on the edge of the tub to stretch her spine. Her eyes rested on her niece's folded form in the water. More particularly the way the soapsuds hid parts of scattered scars on that fair skin. As it always did when she saw them, a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down. Reaching again to wet the sponge she continued washing gently as she spoke.
"I had never seen anything like those mountains. They are so high that when you see them from the plane at a certain point when you fly into the country you have to look up to see the peaks. My favorite part was Cusco. So high up the hill tops touch the clouds. It looks much like a storybook town with cobbled streets and the buildings are painted in a rainbow of colors. The houses further out of town were like that too. Row after row of mismatched colors all stacked up tight on the hills." She began Emma's favorite story of her trip to Peru to further study the particular branch of naturopathy she specialized in one summer; pediatrics and functional medicine.
That, among other reasons.
"And the people really live in tin roof houses without running water?" Emma asked after a while. She looked around her own bathroom just then, taking in all the modern furnishings that those people might never experience.
"Not all of them certainly, but some in certain parts of Peru and the world do, yes. In one village I passed through the water used for cooking and washing ran in a narrow trench all around the perimeter of the village right outside of people's homes. You could open the front door with a pot and fill it without ever having to take a step outside. Some of the world lives like that sweetheart. That is why we are so blessed and why I remind you not to waste things or complain about not having the latest I-pod." Regina explained and stood to turn on the shower nozzle to rinse Emma's back free of soapy suds.
Warm water ran down Emma's back and the suds tickled leaving. In just the last year, she was becoming more comfortable with her aunt's presence in the bathroom with her, even asking that Regina wash her back for her once in a while. When Emma had first come to live with her aunt, she had a huge fear of the bathroom. Her aunt, like with most things, had been patient with a fear she refused to explain. Regina had expressed feeling uncomfortable leaving her alone in the bathroom and insisted on checking in when she bathed back then. She had been reluctant to comply at first, but agreed with a compromise of her own that the door always remain open.
One time it had closed accidentally. Emma sucked her bottom lip at the memory from when she was nine and Regina had been helping to untangle her long hair after a day of fun at the water park. She only remembered the aftermath of that trigger. The during of it haunted her aunt's memory. Emma was sure because of the way brown eyes looked like they had been near breaking in the days to follow.
She let these thoughts go and finally replied somewhat proudly. "I'm getting better about stuff like that. Do you think we could go there sometime, to Peru? Maybe before I go to college?" Emma questioned, resting her chin on her bent knees, watching the bubbles around her calves break and scatter from the spraying water.
"I'll take you, when you are older and bigger." Regina confirmed, smiling that the seeds she had been planting in Emma about traveling and college were beginning to grow. She had to work her way through, waiting tables to pay rent and tuition all the way to grad school, but not her Emma. This child, she had promised herself years ago, would go to the best university, travel, and learn about herself and the world unburdened. A lot of the money Regina invested was for Emma's future, a trust fund the child could claim at age 25, after graduation.
"Aunt Regina?"
"Hmm?"
"Is that where your dad was from?"
Regina's lips parted at the question about the man she hardly knew save for his journals. As a child she had spent countless hours memorizing his words within the little leather bound books when she had learned they were his. Only one of which she had managed to smuggle out as a teenager when she had left that house. She liked to think she knew him anyway when in fact she had never met him. While she and Zelena shared a mother, they had two different fathers. Her stepfather was not a kind man she liked to give her thoughts over too. They tended to consume her when she did.
"Yes, he was from Cusco actually." Regina shared that and nothing more as she put the sprayer up.
Cora had said Henry Mills had left when he had learned Regina was to be a girl, but from the writings of the man she thought she knew from his journals left behind Regina had always thought otherwise. Mother was insistent though. Mother was also a liar. Talking about her past was never easy. Also not something she readily engaged in with Emma for the splinters waiting to bite a curious finger stroking the rotting wood of memory there.
Emma said nothing more under the suggestive tone for her to drop the subject. Still she wondered something along the same train of thought. "Is that why we don't look alike?"
Quietly Regina studied her niece. They were often mistaken for not being related and while a small part of Regina wished they did look more alike there was an even bigger part of her that needed the fact that they didn't if only for the reminder it served. The same flecks of strawberry rested in Emma's tumble of blonde curls as in her little sister's hair. The same shaped eyes too that held the mischievous spark of light she had been unable to save when she had to choose between saving herself or her sister. The price of doing so had been great and one she had never forgiven herself for making.
But Regina had gotten a second chance. A chance to save her sister's child even when at the time she had doubted her ability to do so. Her— She blinked the past away and tapped a small nose which got a got a comical crossed eyed look from Emma. "You look like you and I look like me. That is all there is to it." Regina stated rather factually. "I think it's time to get out. You're turning into a prune." She stood to open a warm cream towel and turned her head away with respect to Emma's privacy as the girl eased up.
Emma stepped out onto the bath mat to wrap up quickly in the towel. She still wanted an answer to a different question, but by the frame of her aunt's mouth she thought better than to ask this moment.
"I'll clean up in here. Go on to your room and get dressed. We will be leaving soon and no blue jeans, Emma." She instructed, already knowing what her niece might pick out to wear. She preferred Emma dressing nicer when they had appointments. That was one thing from her upbringing she had not been able to shake in her own, less than casual, daily attire. Though, Regina was certainly more relaxed with Emma's clothing than she had even been afforded as a child herself.
Their Saturday consisted of errands and a trip downtown to Emma's therapist, Dr. Archie Hopper. He had asked to meet with her today regarding her niece and Regina couldn't help but get a feeling of dread at whatever Dr. Hopper had to tell her. She had a strong intuition and just knew that something was wrong. Regina had questioned Emma the last few weeks if anything was bothering her and aside from the random appearance from Zelena she had always received a curt 'no'.
It had been near a month since the child's mother had made contact with Emma on the playground and Regina had taken quick steps to notify school personnel and law enforcement to get a restraining order in effect. Regina quite considered the paper useless until the police could locate her sister. Zelena had eluded custody for three years and in that disappearing act the woman hadn't bothered Emma until recently.
But Regina knew her sister.
Knew that something had happened to bring Zelena out of hiding. What remained a mystery and for the ramifications that having Zelena in their life would cause, even from behind bars, was not worth the toll it would take on Emma. It was almost better that her sister disappear once again. Regina didn't think jail was the best place for someone like her sister had become. Zelena needed treatment, counseling, and care.
Early on when Emma had first come to live with her Regina had wanted nothing more Zelena behind bars to pay for the years of pain her niece had suffered. She had given police all the details she could—which was not much—to track down her sister after Emma's abandonment. There was still an outstanding warrant for an arrest. Now as time passed, she felt somewhat differently. Her sister was sick and she was not entirely sure it was just from years of being an alcoholic and addict. There was something else off in that head. She suspected bipolar disorder or something else along those lines based on reflection of past behaviors she had observed. She would probably never know.
Regina shook the negative thoughts out of her head as she cleaned up Emma's bathroom before going to her own room to put on a pair of black heeled leather knee high boots and get her matching Coach purse. She checked her appearance once in her full length mirror before heading down the stairs to await her niece. Today, she wore a black pencil skirt with tan pin stripes and a tan sleeveless turtleneck with a simple strand of pearls. Her medium brunette hair hung in curled layers down her back.
In a few minutes Emma appeared by the front door in a pretty blue embroidered short sleeve shirt and dark blue tights under a skirt, complete with matching shoes. She had wanted her overalls and Sketchers, but knew she would have been told to go back up to change. Emma tightened the tie of her high ponytail and frowned when her aunt went to the hall closet and pulled out a light cotton jacket for her to wear. "But I hate sleeves. It's warm out anyway Aunt Regina." Emma whined as she reluctantly slipped on the jacket. She found sleeves constricting and much preferred to be without them whenever possible.
"Warm or not, it's November and it is supposed to be chilly later." Regina insisted, taking her own light jacket with her as they exited their home. Their first stop was the post office, then the library, and then her office to get one of the patient files she had forgotten on Friday to review before Monday. Saturdays were often one of their busier days to get done everything that had been put off throughout the work week.
Emma usually enjoyed this time out with her aunt, but all the hours in and out of the car was beginning to take its toll. She showed her boredom with huffs and pouts only to be redirected to read one of the books kept in the back seat for her amusement. She much preferred to play a game on her aunt's phone, but she wasn't allowed much electronic time and the time she was allowed each day she liked to use watching TV.
Regina was just finishing up at her desk locating what she needed, when she heard her niece's whining coming from the waiting area of her office. Sighing, she stuck her head out her open door. Her receptionist and secretary, Tina, was in the office that day catching up on some filing and at this moment was picking up some papers that were on the floor.
"I'm sorry Dr. Mills, but could you ask Emma to wait in the children's play area? I just can't work if she's by my desk going through papers." Though exasperated the woman was trying to be kind.
Regina eyed her niece standing by in a crossed arm manner making no attempt to help. She knew that look and to anyone else it would appear that Emma was pouting when in fact it meant something else. Emma tended to stand in such a way self hugging whenever something she did wrong was pointed out like that by others in public. She had mentioned it to Dr. Hopper who said it was probably just a way for Emma to self soothe, but Regina was not so sure. Still, for the moment she helped to refocus Emma on what the girl should be doing in such a situation.
"Help pick up the papers Emma and then come in here please." Regina directed.
Emma shot a veiled look at the red mouth, but helped the young secretary pick up the dropped paper work. Still the child stayed rooted to the spot afterward, however, feeling the need to regain some control when she felt out of it.
"Come here."
Another summons. Emma shifted on her feet for a moment, the air beginning to thicken with the power struggle she sometimes put herself in. Why was one of the reasons she knew she was in therapy for, and the other reason she was doing constant battle with and was one she was still trying to make sense of. Her aunt's head shook and a crooked finger beckoned her to start moving. With heavy feet Emma gave in coming forward, but not before a heated look took over her face.
Regina stepped aside, allowing her niece entrance before shutting the heavy door behind her and guided the girl along with her. She sat on the blue leather chair near her desk, drawing her niece to stand in front of her. Regina calmly leveled her gaze with stormy green eyes that were having trouble looking up.
"What has you so upset, hmm?"
Emma lost some of her scowl not expecting that question, but rather to be told off. Sometimes that happened. Especially when her aunt was busy and patience was thin, or when they had places to be like now. But talking about her feelings was hard so she said what was easy. "Nothing."
"Now we both know that is not the case." Regina corrected and wondered if she should push for an answer like Emma was pushing now. While she worked with children and had even taken a few child psychology classes in the course of her studies, Emma's response to certain things sometimes was a paradox that did not have predictable patterns.
"You go first then." Emma challenged rather hotly, rolling back on her heels as she thought about her unanswered, or the vaguely answered, questions she had posed this morning in the bath. While they were close and shared many things, the things Emma wanted to better understand, like her aunt's past, was never something that seemed up for discussion.
A dark brow rose.
"What?" Though that was an expression she well understood. Emma continued. "You always get on me to share how I feel, but you won't tell me anything when I ask."
As much as her niece had a point, Regina did not approve of how Emma was making it. "There are certain things you are much too young to understand yet and when the time is right I will share them with you."
Emma's shoulders dropped hard like her foot did in a stomp and shout. "But you always say that!"
"That's enough." Chiding as her hand did by patting the seat of Emma's skirt once and Emma promptly stilled. "I suggest you change your attitude and start listening to me." She said, reminding Emma exactly why she had just gotten a reminder to behave and of the why of being called in here for a talk. "You are also to come to me the first time I call you. I understand that you are bored, but having an attitude and not listening to the things I ask you to do are not helping me to go any faster. Do you understand?"
"Yes… I'm sorry." Emma offered suddenly remembering the words she was supposed to say and dropped the issue once again. She could never hold out long in her stubbornness for the eyes she was under.
Regina bent forward and kissed her niece's cheek. "Good girl. Now I want you to go and say as much to Ms. Bell." Just a simple, 'I'm sorry' like you just did is enough. Then we will get going. It's almost 3:00 and I do not want to be late to meet with your therapist."
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"I'm hungry," Emma said a half hour later, tugging on Regina's arm to get her attention. Her aunt sighed, dropping the pen on the sign in sheet and handed it to the woman behind the high counter.
"Dr. Hopper is expecting you Ms. Mills. Please go right in."
"Thank you."
Knowing that Emma would get hungry, Regina pulled out a bag of sliced red apples and a bottle of water she had packed that morning, sweetened with a little juice from her purse and handed them to the child. "Here's your snack and your book, go sit on the couch and wait right there. I shouldn't be too long." She said. Emma's eyes remained fixated on the food as she nodded and headed over to the sofa as instructed.
Regina made her way across the waiting area and to the door that led into the therapist's main office. He appeared there a moment later and greeted her warmly. The two doctors shook hands and exchanged a polite greeting as they got comfortable in the frosted glass room. One wall was like that anyway. Regina never liked such rooms for the very reason of the feeling like she was in a fishbowl when inside one.
"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today." Dr. Hopper started. "I usually don't keep office hours on Saturdays, but I had a few client concerns that needed to be taken care of."
"And my Emma is one of your concerns?" Regina asked, keeping her tone calm despite the sick feeling beginning to boil in her stomach.
"I had to be very sure that what I am about to tell you was true and in her own way Emma confirmed it was in our last session. You had to leave so quickly after her appointment Thursday that I didn't want to put this out there without us having a chance to speak at length over it." He understood the flash of guilt in brown eyes from the woman sitting in front of him. Dr. Regina Mills was a very busy and complicated woman. Emma had expressed some frustrations to him over that busyness in the past and though, time was always made for the patient in question by the woman before him whenever he needed to meet one on one like this.
Regina folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs under his gaze. She had rushed out of his office rather quickly earlier this week in order to get to a lecture she was to give at a symposium of colleagues at the Free Children's Clinic she volunteered her services at a few hours a week. Emma had come with her to wait in the small office she worked out of there. Her niece had seemed a little off, but mostly fine at the time. Mostly fine, but probably not like before the secret about her sister's appearance on the playground had been shared with her.
Whatever Dr. Hopper had to say, Regina wanted it out in the open so she could help Emma. "Go on."
"Over the last few weeks when I first suspected something was not right I went over Emma's file, school reports, and medical history once again. You are still her primary physician is that correct?"
"Yes, she doesn't cooperate well with anyone else. I had tried, when she was younger, to have another colleague take over in that regard, but she would have fits during the appointments and nightmares after that I didn't see the point in putting her through that type of stress when I could take care of most of her basic needs myself." Regina explained, wondering what this had to do with anything.
He nodded and marked the open file in his lap. "As I was saying, I started to review Emma's history again after she told me about her mother coming to see her on the playground that day. Emma said that you were aware of that."
It was more of a hidden question within a statement and Regina realized that he was uncomfortable with whatever it is that needed to be said. Never one for subtly, she raised her brows right back. "I am aware. Emma and I are very close, you know that." He surely did for the reasons of Emma being in therapy to begin with. Regina had chosen to have Emma see a therapist to give her niece an outside resource to help with the emotional and physical abuse suffered at the hands of her sister. Emma had not been too keen on the idea, but over time great progress had been made with Dr. Hopper's help. "Will you please just say whatever it is that needs to be said?" Regina asked, starting to feel uncomfortable for the first time with this man.
"I'm sorry, it's just this can be difficult to process and I had to be sure before I met with you because a new direction in her therapy may be needed." He pushed up his slipping glasses. "I have reason to believe that Emma was sexually abused by her mother before she came to live with you." He paused at the obvious upset his words were causing.
Regina felt as if someone had slapped the breathe from her lungs. Suddenly there seemed to be no air in the room. The walls became animated; vibrating violently and pushing their way inward. In and in as she held her breath in. She had been disgusted with her sister's treatment of her niece before and now… Now she doubled over to keep her stomach intact. After a cold minute, she slowly eased up and let out a shaky breath along with one question. "How do you...?" But the question died on her lips as pieces of Emma's puzzle she had not ever wanted to fit came together in her mind as he spoke.
"Through a recent play therapy session Emma demonstrated violent sexual play with two dolls; both female. I asked her about what she was doing and she said rather offhandedly that her `mother did this to her once'. I don't even know if she realized she told me as she was so wrapped up in it all. I believe some repressed memories may have returned thanks to your sister's recent visit. She's an un-well woman. An addict or alcoholic, as I understand it, from your family history." Archie paused, glancing at the paper in his hand that said as much, then to Regina.
"My sister," Regina began bitterly and gained her breath as her own childhood memories began overwhelming her, "takes after her father in the respect." She raised a hand to her eyes to stop the tears that were beginning to flood her face. Dr. Hopper handed her a tissue, which Regina gladly accepted, her mind reeling with questions. "Are you sure? I mean, it has been three years she has been with me and I never knew. I never..." Regina mumbled, her thoughts racing.
"Ms. Mills, are you alright? You're very pale."
Regina leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees as she peered out the frosted glass wall, watching a very blurred shadow of Emma on the sofa. "Where did she say this happened?" Her tone had gone numb along with the rest of her.
"In a bathroom. Emma mentioned a fear of that room to me ages ago and until now I did not make the connection for why that might be."
Regina leaned back against the padded chair, remembering back to the incident with Emma that she so wanted to forget and found herself elaborating when she never did. "I could not get that child into a bathtub or really clean without a lot of coaxing, treats, or assurance." She began and swallowed down more tears that wanted to fall. She had not cried, really cried in years and doing so a moment ago if only mildly in front of this man was not something that was sitting well with her. "Emma told me, eventually, that she was afraid of the bathroom, more specifically of being with someone in a bathroom. So, I let her decorate it however she wanted, hoping that it would be more inviting to her, and it was after I promised never to close the door."
Archie shifted in his seat sensing a 'but' coming. He was right and wished he wasn't for the pained look of guilt near shattering the mask of the woman fighting to keep it in place.
"But, the door did close by accident once last year. Emma was in the tub washing up and I was helping with her hair. When it did she became frozen and all the color left her face as if all the life had drained out of her..." Regina paused the tears pushed to fall again, but she pushed them back.
"What happened next?"
"Emma shrieked over and over again so hard and loud I thought the mirror would break. Then she started screaming at me and looking at me as if she didn't know me, like she was reliving something."
"That must have been terrifying for her and you."
"It was." Agreeing as she looked down at her hands clamped tightly together. "It was the most helpless I had ever felt in my life." Regina admitted now flexing her hands to loosen the sick feeling taking over. It did nothing to help the growing of it in her stomach, however. "I intervened when she hit her head back against the tile by the tub. I went to lift her from the water and her whole body came alive. She fought me, biting and scratching, but I finally got her out the door and into her room. Almost instantly, she relaxed and stopped screaming, but she cried, and cried all night and every night from nightmares for a week." Regina bit the inside of her cheek briefly at the memory and cleared her throat. "It took a good month before I could get her into the tub again. Meantime I helped her sponge off and washed her hair in the sink. I bought stopper I attached to the door frame near the top so the door will not accidentally close again."
Archie was silent as he penned a note, giving some space where it seemed to be needed.
Regina took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with a tissue letting the silence of the room comfort her as a great weight settled on her shoulders. "I will never forget that scream as long as I live." Nor the feelings of inadequacy at being unable to help that pain Emma had been in that had come with it.
"That would explain it then, the dolls and that episode. Your sister must have done something to Emma in a bathroom. I am very sorry... This must be such a shock for you. I had my suspicions, but I wanted Emma to confirm it herself without any coaxing before I mentioned it to you."
"Thank you for making sure..." Regina caught the time on his desk clock. I should check on her. I told Emma I'd only be a few minutes and here we are almost a half hour later. She and I have a lot to talk about at home." Regina said, standing and adjusting her purse on her shoulder. She said goodbye to Dr. Hopper and stood a moment at the door, collecting her thoughts and her emotions. She stepped out into the waiting area, scanning the quiet room for Emma. Where the girl had been sitting was an empty water bottle and over turned book, but no Emma.
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"What do you mean you haven't seen her? She was sitting right there on the sofa not twenty minutes ago. I saw her myself through the glass." Worried, Regina had asked the young woman behind the check in counter after a walk around the office, the restroom, and the outside halls proved no turn up of her niece.
"Maybe she went to the bathroom." The woman offered, shuffling papers on her desk feeling a bit intimidated by the worried parent in front of her.
"I was just in the restroom looking for her, and she wouldn't have gone without me. Not by herself..." Regina paused, sensing someone new in the room. She turned to see Emma enter the office carrying a small brown paper bag. "There you are! I've been worried." Regina sighed in relief; her worry replaced now with annoyance as she approached her niece and gave her a tight hug, holding the girl close to her for a long moment before breaking the embrace. With her sister lurking in unknown proximity, she was ever more aware and cautious of their surroundings. Emma wandering off, as child was prone to doing sometimes, was ever so much more of a worry right now. Her tone said as much. "Where were you?"
"I got hungry again and I remembered the Starbucks in the lobby downstairs and I thought—" Emma stopped abruptly as she realized her mistake.
"You thought you'd disobey me and wander off down there by yourself, despite my specific instructions to wait on that couch." Regina finished sharper than she meant to be.
That tone caused green eyes to look up from red lips. "I'm sorry."
Regina closed her eyes for a moment and softened considerably. Her disapproval in this form never failed to bring tears to Emma's eyes and was one of very few causes of them being so readily drawn there. In quiet apology, Regina pulled a tissue from the side pocket of her purse and cupped her niece's chin in hand to wipe green eyes. " I went as fast as I could in there with Dr. Hopper. When I ask you to wait, I expect you to be a big girl and do as I ask of you. It really worried me when I came out here and you were gone." She explained, letting her niece's face go.
"But I was hungry." Emma tried to explain herself and dropped the small brown bag in her hand.
Regina leaned down to be eye level and took small hands into hers realizing her niece really didn't understand why she was upset. Emma was a smart girl, but struggled where others did not in what seemed like common understanding of how to read other's emotions. In some ways those were difficult for the child to understand and relate to in others. In moments like this Regina relied on shared experiences to help explain them to Emma. "Do you remember a few years ago when you lost sight of me in the Macy's department store in New York near Christmas time, how frightened you were when you thought I had left you there?"
"Yeah, there were too many people." She hated crowds.
"Well, I felt a little bit like you did that day when I couldn't see you when I expected to. I was worried that something might have happened to you."
Emma's eyes grew large with understanding. "I'm sorry I worried you." And she hugged Regina then, tightly around the neck. "Can I still have my snack?" Asking as she reached down to retrieve the dropped bag.
Regina laughed softly. She nodded, smiling as she ruffled Emma's hair, smoothing bangs off a sweet face. "Of course you may sweetheart."
Emma frowned thoughtfully when she finally took in the whole of her aunt's face. She traced a faint tear path cleared of makeup down a cheek with her finger. "You cried. You never cry, how come?" Emma asked, becoming upset that her absence may have caused her aunt's tears.
"Yes, well... let's go home now baby and we will talk about it." She said standing and smoothing her skirt before extending her hand.
Emma took her aunt's soft hand briefly wondering about what. But unlike Thursday when they left this office and she wanted her aunt's attention, right now she was not sure she did for what that talk might prove to be.
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"My stomach hurts." Emma complained.
Regina's did too for that matter and set a pot of water to boil a cup of tea to calm her nerves, steeling herself for the conversation she must have with Emma. The young girl sat on a high backed stool by the island countertop in the center of the kitchen, coloring book and markers scattered about. "I think you ate your dinner too fast, sweetheart." Regina moved to get a small mortar and pestle from a cabinet shelf and went over to her dried herb rack.
During the summers she made a habit of growing and keeping herbs to be used for some day to day purposes for herself and Emma. She quickly selected an indigo bottle from the many stored and returned to the counter. "This mixture is of Mint and Chamomile. Together with stomachaches. I'll make a tea for you to drink." Regina explained, always trying to deepen Emma's interest in herbs.
The girl looked up from her drawing and watched as Regina poured a 1/2 ounce of the cut dried herbs into the bowl and ground them into a fresh gritty dust. The woman then put the bowls contents into a mesh tea net that was added to the pot on the stove. While the mixture steeped, she busied herself finishing the evening's dishes. Emma's head popped up when the timer on the microwave beeped.
Regina strained some of the tea into her favorite mug, a creative pottery piece Emma had made for her last birthday and sweetened it with a bit of fresh honey. She then did the same for Emma, into a much smaller mug. "Take all of this while it's still warm." She instructed, handing the red mug to Emma. The girl sipped it down over the next few minutes as Regina sipped her own and wiped up the counter tops. The empty mug was held out for her to take. "Thank you. Now it's time to clean up your artwork. We need to have a talk about something." Regina said as her niece put markers back in an art box with the unfinished picture on top. "Let's go into the living room." Regina led the way out through the arched opening and seated herself on the beige couch, patting her lap for Emma to sit. She set down her mug on the coffee table and opened her arms to her niece.
Emma hesitated, sensing she would not like whatever it was her aunt wanted to talk to her about. The girl approached after that moment of uncertainty remembering their talk from earlier that day about coming when she was called and settled herself comfortably on her aunt's lap.
Regina wrapped her arm around the girl, pulling Emma in close before she began to reassure. "I spoke with Dr. Hopper today about one of your recent therapy sessions. He said that you told him about something that had happened between you and your mother a long time ago." Regina noticed Emma's body stiffen, the small muscles under fair skin twitched anxiously. The woman stroked the girl's back slowly before she continued, "I want to know what happened between you two. What happened in the bathroom Emma?" She asked calmly, keeping her tone measured and soft.
The girl shifted her weight, not looking at her aunt. She shook her head, covering her ears with her hands. Emma kicked her heels against the side of the sofa. Her aunt gently moved her hands away and kept hold of them as a thumb rubbed along the back of clenched fists. Emma shut her eyes tight, torn between wanting to shut Regina out and wanting to clean this dirt away.
"You know I love you sweetheart, with all of my heart, don't you?"
Emma nodded, taking a deep breath. Her heart was beginning to pound and her eyes darted back and forth below her lids, taking in the forming memory.
"You can trust me with anything Emma, tell me anything. Nothing that happened was your fault, you are not to blame for anything your mother said or did. I just want to help you baby, please let me help you." Regina coaxed, watching Emma for any signs that the child would talk to her. A long silence set in and Regina waited patiently for Emma to be ready to speak.
Finally, after a long while Emma parted her lips, her eyes still tightly closed. "I told her not to. I said don't." Emma assured, fighting an urge inside her to not speak, not to tell the truth because words made it real. "I was bad and she filled the tub with water. It was too hot, but she made me get in." Words forced their way out of Emma mouth, "She yelled at me, those words I'm not supposed to say..."
Regina bit her tongue so hard it bled and found her voice. "You're doing very well baby. What happened after that?"
"She stopped yelling 'cause she tripped. She was drinking wine from a bottle. It was red." That detail flashed before her eyes. Emma remembered it vividly because of the way it had spilled into the water turning it a bright pink. "It broke on the bottom and she was mad. There was glass in the water and she told me to open my legs." Emma said rather numbly, though her small body was beginning to shake. "I got cut on my leg and she hit my head on the faucet." Reaching up to rub the back of her head from the invisible ache there trying to remember the time between, but she never could. "Then I was on the floor... it was dark and I was locked in." Emma concluded her mouth dry as cotton, unable to speak anymore.
Regina held Emma tightly. Her face contorted in controlled rage at her own sister, who could do this to a child, her child. If not by birth, by heart. "I'm so sorry baby. I'm so sorry she did those things to you." Then remembering how Emma had began the story. "You were not 'bad.' You are never, ever 'bad'. Do you hear me?" Regina asked, trying with much difficulty to keep her voice level even though her insides were on fire, the shared blood with her sister burning. "There is no excuse for what your mother did." And there wasn't, but she felt the need to give some context to the why she knew Emma was stewing in. "The alcohol, as much as she drinks of it, makes her unwell." She explained, hoping Emma could understand.
"But you have wine sometimes and you're never mean to me. I must have made her mad." Emma reasoned finally opening her eyes.
Regina lifted Emma up under arms and turned so the child could see her better. "Listen carefully to me baby. You—" She said, tapping the girl's chest gently, "did absolutely nothing wrong. The alcohol made your mother sick and she made some very wrong choices because of that. Not because of you."
Sucking her bottom lip, Emma nodded thinking she just might understand and because she did, she whispered the question she had been needing to ask for a long time. "Do you think she loved me?" Emma asked, rubbing her eye with a fist.
Regina kissed Emma's cheek, forming her words carefully in the painful truth of her sister's warped definition of love. This is what she was not good at. Explaining such things to Emma, but she tried. "Your mother did not know how to love very well. She has a sickness that makes it hard for her to do so in a way that someone should love a child."
"Like how you love me?"
Red lips rested against a crown of curls in answer. Emma smiled slightly, sniffling she settled her head against her aunt's chest. The sound of the heartbeat under ear comforted her. Emma thought she understood what was said and unsaid; that her aunt was offering a generous gift if Emma so wanted to take it. The gift of a mother not completely evil. The young girl closed her eyes, exhausted from all of the conflicting emotions of the day, but on one she was clear. "I never asked her to be my mother…" Emma whispered.
Regina nodded in agreement, knowing anyone could lie down and have sex, producing a baby, but that did not make a person a parent. Little long a mother. She had her own experience to attest to that. Emma's small fingers traveled upward and played with the strand of pearls at her neck.
Emma focused on turning each individual orb gently as she confirmed a brewing choice inside of her. One she was not yet ready to say, but one she looked forward to doing one day as she thought, 'from now on I choose you to be my mother.' She was content to simply have that all for herself right now and within the quiet strength holding her.
It would be a long time before woman and child moved from their embrace.
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Later that night, after Regina had tucked Emma into bed she made her way down the spiral staircase and into the large dark kitchen. From memory her fingers found the switch on the textured taupe wall and the room brightened before her. The Spanish tiled floor felt cool beneath her bare feet, more than welcome from the heat of the day. The grey silk robe clung to her damp skin just fresh out of the shower. She had clipped her hair into a messy twist a top her head and curling strands clung to her cheeks as she looked about the room.
Quietly, she moved across the tile to unlatch the cellar door near the laundry room. Carefully she stepped down four steep steps. A moment later, a soft glow lit up the little room. Regina used this cellar for drying herbs and to store her wine collection. From her many travels she had collected and spent a small fortune on boutique, hard to find wines. She thoughtfully fingered a newly acquired bottle of Sea Smoke Pinot Noir, an expensive cloudy garnet liquid with a nose of violets and blueberries.
She gathered every bottle of red wine from her collection and set the three dozen or so bottles on the countertop. She then pulled out a sterling silver engraved wine key from her robe pocket, a gift from Mal, a close friend who celebrated Regina's love for fine wines.
Slowly, one by one, Regina cut the foil on each bottle, listening as the curved blade effortlessly slid around the bottle tops. In a well practiced motion she removed the corks. When all of the bottles were open, her fingers grasped the Sea Smoke's long green neck. Carefully Regina tipped the tinted glass on its side, watching as the crimson liquid met the bottle's neck to flow out of the opening. It splashed violently against the white porcelain of sink before swirling to move down the drain.
As she emptied each of the bottles to the last drop Regina promised herself that she would never again drink red wine. The very thought of it, from that moment on, made her violently ill.
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A/N – I always appreciate your thoughts or questions?
More this weekend. Thanks for reading.
