"Good morning Henry," I cheerfully greet my son as his feet sluggishly pad across the hotel floors.
"Morning, kid."
"Good morning moms. A-are you two making breakfast together?"
Emma and I quickly share a knowing look with one another, all too aware that this feels a little domesticated and we have never done anything like this before. Honestly, I was about to make a snide remark about the situation when Emma slipped next to me to help with the bacon while I prepared omelettes, but I decided to hold my tongue instead.
"Yes. Can you set the table?" I delegate, breezing right passed the unfamiliar territory that was about to be observed beneath my son's inquisitive eyes.
"Sure." Henry waltzes right up to us, in search of the drawer containing silverware, before he peeks over my shoulder. "Omelettes?"
"And bacon," Emma adds on, licking her lips for emphasis.
"Nice," he laughs and proceeds with his task.
"So honey, what would you like to do today? I have a few museums picked out if you'd like or maybe just a day at the beach?" I list just before I flip over Henry's omelette.
"About that..." Emma and I both freeze momentarily before we find the courage to turn around and face our son. "While we are here, I want to do things that I've never done before. I want to experience a life that is so different from the world we have at home that I'll never forget."
"Kid, you're going away to college next year, not dying."
"I know that," he mutters, focusing on aligning the utensils properly with the napkin, informing me that there is something bothering him.
"Henry, if you come to school out here then you will have every opportunity to do the things that we never do," I gently explain, sliding his breakfast onto his plate and passing the dish to Emma so she can add a few pieces of bacon.
"I know," he mutters under his breath, avoiding our curious eyes. "Can we just make this week about really living it up? To its fullest potential? Things we never do?"
My eyes crawl toward my partner in raising Henry, seeking her thoughts, but I find a set of stunning green irises staring right back at me. She seems concerned, a little thrown off by our son's request, so she simply shrugs her shoulders waiting for my two cents on the matter.
I offer her a half smile before turning back toward my son. "Of course Henry. It's your graduation trip, whatever you want."
"Great." Emma and I spin back around to finish cooking, but then our son is speaking again. "I want to go to Dodger Stadium."
My fingers slip as I'm just about to crack an egg into a dish, smashing the shell a little too aggressively against the rim, splattering the gooey mess all over.
"Jeez," Emma gasps as she fumbles for a wet paper towel to clean up the mess, but I ignore the egg completely and spin around on my heels.
"Henry, you don't even like baseball," I protest.
"You know what Dodger Stadium is?" Emma muses from behind me.
"Shut up, Swan," I growl before softening my voice for my son. "Henry, you really want to see a baseball game?"
"Yes, there's a game today. I already checked. I've been to museums before when I lived with Emma and Neal even took me the first time I met him. I want to see a real live game. I want to eat a hot dog and buy peanuts and chant along with the crowd."
"Regina, it's a baseball game, you're acting like he said he was getting a tattoo," Emma whispers beside me even though we both know Henry can hear us.
"Over my dead body."
"Mom, I'm not getting a tattoo," Henry flatly replies. "Aren't you the least bit curious what it would be little to attend a game? I think it will be a lot of fun."
"If that's what you want," I agree through a deep breath.
It's not that I don't want to attend, I think it's a little out of my element and truthfully I never thought Henry would be that interested in the idea.
"It is," our son firmly concludes. "Game is at one, they are playing the Cubs," he informs us, slipping into his seat to wolf down his breakfast as always. "I found a train that will take us to the stadium from here. It's more convenient than driving through traffic."
"Sounds great," Emma happily agrees. "I, myself have never been to an actual game."
"Really?" I question, handing Emma her plate with her extra cheesy omelette.
"Yeah," she accepts the plate while clenching a piece of bacon out of the side of her mouth. "I mean, one time Neal and I scaled a building to watch a game at Vaughn Street Park," she shrugs with a giddy grin plastered across her face, "but I've never really been inside a stadium."
"Where the hell is Vaughn Street Park?" Henry practically chokes on his omelette as Emma casually claims the seat beside him.
"It's in Portland, Oregon, where I met your dad. It's a minor league team there, but that didn't matter much to us," she smiles so broad that a prominent dimple presses deep into her cheek, something I haven't seen in a very long time.
"I don't think you ever told me where you met dad."
"Oh," Emma's cheerful disposition quickly fades away into a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry, kid, I think that was a...turning point in my life that I tend to black out."
"I know," he swallows his bite, placing his fork down before he meets his mother's eyes. "I'm eighteen now though and I think I can handle the truth about your relationship with my dad. You don't have to keep sheltering me."
"I-I know," Emma stammers as her gaze quickly drops down to her plate in shame. "We just did stupid stuff back then that I'm not particularly proud of, it's not that I don't think you're mature enough to hear it."
"I won't judge you, I already know you went to prison, pregnant out of marriage, so it can't really get much worse than that, right?" Henry attempts to laugh to help alleviate the shame burning Emma's cheeks.
"I know," she whispers as I slide into my seat quietly beside her, avoiding eye contact so she doesn't assume I'm silently judging her as well.
"What do you want to know?" She questions as her fork pokes at her food and moves it all around her plate.
"So you met in Portland, Oregon? I don't even think I knew you ever lived there," Henry starts off the interrogation rather light for Emma's benefit causing her to sigh in relief.
"Yes, well I was living out on the streets at the time...not...not always literally. Most of the time I would sneak into vacant motel rooms or hideout in train stations, stuff like that," she pauses for a moment, peeking through those thick eyelashes to gauge my reaction, so I offer her a gentle smile, encouraging her to continue for Henry's sake. "Anyways, I decided if I had a car I could at least sleep in there. So, that's when I stole the bug, I failed to notice a sleeping man in the back."
"My dad?"
"Yeah," she breathes heavily as her shoulders relax, "it was your dad and I totally panicked, but I had no idea that he stole the car too."
"So, you stole a stolen car?" I question, somewhat amused by this story.
"That's exactly what I said to Neal."
"See mom, that wasn't so bad and now I feel a little bit closer to you and my dad," Henry shrugs, his eyes never meeting his mother's as he focuses solely on eating.
"Henry, if you ever want to know more, I will tell you anything you want to hear. I'm sorry I've kinda shut down after he passed away."
"I know mom."
The breakfast table falls silent after that, and I can't help but wonder about Neal and Emma. I, myself never inquired about their relationship and I barely even spoke to him when he was around. The only thing I do know about the man, is that he fought tooth and nail for our son alongside Emma and I. Never did he falter, lose hope or become distracted with anything else that was surrounding us. Neal's top priority was Henry and for that, I respect the man.
XXXXXXXXX
I was beyond grateful that Henry had suggested the train to the baseball game, because the streets were covered, bumper to bumper with traffic this afternoon.
I chose a seat next to the window again, studying the busy streets of cars and the over crowded sidewalks with people scurrying to their destination. Los Angeles is nothing like out quant little town. The only time people ever pick up their leisurely stroll in Storybrooke is when a villain is attacking. The people of Los Angeles seem to constantly be in a rush to their next destination and for once in my life, I'm thankful for the calm of my hometown.
"Is it Ho-Killian?" Henry fumbles on the name, catching my attention and peeling my eyes away from the world zipping passed us just outside.
"What?" Emma questions a little flustered, provoking my eyebrow to suspiciously crawl up my forehead.
"Are you texting Killian?" Henry repeats himself as he leans over into his mother's shoulder to catch a glimpse of her phone, in which she quickly moves the device out of his line of sight.
"No," she mutters, her cheeks instantly sparking a coral tint.
"Then why are you so flushed?" I skeptically interrogate.
"And why won't you let me see your phone?"
"I-uh," nervous green eyes flick down to the phone clutched in a death grip then back up to meet her son's gaze. "I just think that maybe we should be taking more pictures on this trip." She admits, but that doesn't loosen her grip tightening around her phone, causing her fingers to turn pure white. "Honestly kid, I think I only have one picture of us from when you were like ten."
"Oh," Henry deflates for a moment before he pulls out his phone and smirks. "You're right, we need more pictures of us before...well I leave."
Henry quickly holds up his phone and leans against Emma's temple. She sighs in relief and quickly her expression is morphing into a giddy grin, matching our son's as he captures the moment for eternity.
"Make sure you send me that one," Emma smiles before she pulls out her own phone. "Okay, now all three of us."
"Seriously?" I groan, but Emma and Henry are both already leaning into my spot against the window with matching dorky smiles.
Emma angles the phone to her preference while I lean in closer to my son. My lips crack into a broad smile when I notice just how happy these two are displayed upon the screen. Another moment I need to cherish, before my son leaves the nest and I am forced back to Storybrooke where Emma is smiling back at someone else.
But does she really smile this bright when we are home?
"That's a good one, I need that one because come to think of it," Henry trails off as they both slide back into their seats. "I-I don't think I have one picture with both of my moms," he sighs and the sound of disappointment in his tone is absolutely soul crushing.
"No worries kid, we will take a bunch on this trip, right Regina?"
"Of course," I happily agree, reaching across my seat to squeeze my son's knee with some added love.
XXXXXXXXX
"This is insane," Emma mumbles under her breath as we enter the stadium.
"I never truly expected something quite this...large," I utter as my eyes take in the different vendors and the people dressed is blue and white rushing around us in every direction.
"I told you this was going to be awesome," Henry smugly replies before he nudges us toward the direction of our seats. "We should be over here, according to the sign," he states as he glances back down at our tickets once again.
"Hey, should we get t-shirts, so we fit in?" Emma asks just before we pass a small stand near the entryway that leads us back outside again.
"I don't think that's necessary," I wave her off and focus on not being bombarded by the hundreds of people trying to squeeze passed us.
"You must really hate crowds, huh?" Emma notes, most likely from the way my nose is scrunching and I can only assume the pain projecting off my face.
"I was unaware until this trip," I flatly reply, quickly turning to the side so this barbarian passing by doesn't plow me right over.
Out of my peripheral, I catch Emma rolling her eyes at me. "Well, I want a tank top. How about you, Henry?"
"Sure I'll take a shirt. How about you get the shirts and Mom and I will go to the concession stand, the line there seems kinda long," he comments as he stands on his tip toes to peer over the crowd.
"Perfect, I'll meet you there. In case I don't make it before you get up there, I'll take a beer and a hot dog."
"No soft pretzel?" Henry very seriously questions while I dodge a mob of rowdy young men.
"Yeah, you're right. A pretzel, beer and a hot dog," Emma adds to her order through a cheeky smile.
"Perfect. Okay mom, let's go."
I follow my son through the crowd, my shoulders instinctively curling inward with each person we pass so I don't accidentally bump into anyone, even though the rest of the population could care less.
"What are you going to get?" Henry mindlessly questions when we find ourselves at the back of a very long line.
"I'm not very hungry."
"You promised to live it up on this vacation mom, that means indulging in each experience. It's baseball, a classic all American sport that we miss out on because we are always trapped in our small town."
"I understand Henry, I do. This is just out of my element for me." My son sighs, disappointment flittering across his forest green eyes. "I'm trying, though. Do you honestly think I would have jumped on that ride with Emma, eight years ago?" I softly chuckle, winning myself a small smile in return. "Hell, even two years ago, I don't think I would have been able to let my guard down to agree, but I did yesterday."
"I know mom, I'm just trying to capture the most in life with you and mom."
"Henry, why do I always get the feeling that you mean so much more behind your words? Is there something bothering you? Is there something you're holding back from Emma and I?"
Little crinkles around my son's eyes appear as he squints at me and his entire face scrunches in disbelief. Or maybe it's his lame attempt to shrug off the implication. His mouth instantly curls down into a frown while he exaggerates shaking his head and I know. I know my son is lying straight to my face.
"No, mom...it's nothing. Can you please just relax a little bit and enjoy this?" I smile softly at my son and slowly nod along. "You know," he slowly annunciates in a teasing tone, "I remember what you were like when I was really little, like around five. Before curses, before that book, before villains and Emma showed up."
A playfully smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I examine the amusement consuming my son's face. "And what was I like?"
"Playful," my eyes brows skyrocket from his blunt admission. "Funny, gentle, sweet." A pout forms upon my lips, longing for that time when life was just simple between Henry and I. "I remember you smiling and laughing a lot."
"Sssshhhh, Emma might hear," I playfully tease, causing Henry's eyes to roll, yet he still holds a broad smile.
"Hey!" Emma breathes out as she jogs beside us. "Looks like I made it in time. What did I miss?" She asks, tossing Henry's shirt at his face.
"Nothing," I blurt out far too quickly making a spectacle of myself and provoking one of Emma's eye brows to slither up her forehead.
"Oh, I was just reminding her of the times when we would chase each other around the house, sword fighting." Emma's shocked attention quickly turns just in time to catch my cheeks flushing. "Or when we would have dance parties in the kitchen while she cooked. Or how about the time that you built a fort in the living room and it stayed up for days because I would cry every time you threatened to take it down."
"It was weeks actually," I enlighten my son, but the tender memories are shuffling through my mind so quickly that I don't have time to process any emotion except joy.
Those were some of the happiest moments of my long life. Our life, was just Henry and I, no one to fight against, no one to intrude. Just us and I wouldn't trade one single second for a happy ending with a man.
"No wonder you were able to keep up with your dad and grandpa when they started practicing with those wooden swords," Emma muses while she fiddles with something in her hand. My eyes fall to the small gap between us where her hands are twisting a blue t-shirt into knots. "Oh, I got you one too," she nervously mumbles as she untwists the garment.
"That wasn't necessary-"
"Just take it, if you won't wear it then think of it as memorabilia from this trip," she exasperates, shoving the shirt against chest.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Next!"
XXXXXXXXX
The crowd is roaring to life, despite the scolding sun beating down upon us. Luckily, I was smart enough to bring along my sunglasses, otherwise I wouldn't be able to focus on the men in awfully tight uniforms. I truthfully cannot comprehend how they are dressed in pants in such high temperatures.
Emma ended up buying herself and Henry matching Dodger's hats just to keep the sun out of their eyes. Even though we are all dripping in sweat and most likely burning our flesh to a crisp, Emma and Henry have never looked more elated.
With every ball that cracks against the bat, mother and son are jumping to their feet in hysteria. They are both hollering along as we sit behind third base, chanting for the Dodgers as they round the bases and booing the Cubs when they are near. And their excitement is just too contagious to fight against.
"Bud, Bud light!" A man bellows over the screaming crowd, carrying a tray full of beer in front of his torso.
"Henry, get his attention!" Our son quickly waves his hand in the air as Emma reaches into her back pocket. "Tell him two," she mutters as she counts out her crumpled up money that was shoved into her back pocket. "You want another right?" Emma questions as our son holds up two fingers.
"I'm really not a fan of beer. You're lucky I drank the first one."
"Well you're not allowed to drink wine at a baseball game. You can have wine tonight when we are home."
Home?
"Uh-Alright," I whisper as she passes her money to Henry.
My eyes follow the damp money from her sweaty back pocket as it travels from my son's hand to some stranger in front of him. Then that man proceeds to hand the money to a gentleman in front of him then it carries on to a teen girl who glances over her shoulder before handing the money off to the seller. The man carefully places two full cups in the girl's hand and she continues the path back toward us through the same hands again.
"Thanks!" Emma happily cheers to all parties involved.
"Is one for me?" Henry jokes, reaching for the cup closest to him, but Emma is quicker than that and lifts the cool beverage into the air.
"Not while your moms around."
"Emma, I will kill you if feed our son alcohol."
"I'm just teasing," she smiles, handing over the beer she purchased for me. "So, what do you think?" She questions, slowly sipping the amber liquid as she watches me carefully over the plastic rim.
Her long blonde waves are strapped tightly into a ponytail, tumbling out of the back of her royal blue baseball cap. There's a small shadow casting over her face from the visor, but it doesn't hide away the deep crimson beating upon her cheeks from the sweltering heat and yet I still find her mesmerizing, stunningly beautiful.
"I'm actually enjoying myself," I admit, slowly sipping the foam away from my cup so I don't spill.
"I think Henry had the right idea to bring us here, we miss out on so much back in-" her words are effectively drowned out by the uproar of people jumping to their feet and screaming at the top of their lungs.
Emma abruptly turns to investigate the reasoning behind the cheer, but my eyes never leave the side of her face. Intently, I watch as various emotions flicker across her face, from surprise, to curious, to pure excitement. Henry is already on his feet, clapping along with the hyper crowd, when Emma notices why.
"Home run!" She chuckles before her eyes slowly crawl to meet mine again and I'm caught staring like an absolute fool. She hastily wipes her mouth feeling self conscious under my gaze, but little does she know there was never anything there. "What?"
"No, nothing," I shake my head and break apart the spine-prickling eye contact.
"No, what? Why were you staring at me like that?" She questions, leaning a little closer into my personal space and suddenly I'm very aware how we are the only two sitting in this entire stadium.
"I just..." I inhale sharply and search my brain for something to say, without coming clean about my inappropriate thoughts. "How come in eight years, I've never seen you this happy?"
She stills, her hand frozen in front of her face just before she sips her beer and her eyes dart frantically around absolutely nothing in front of her.
"Uh..."
"It's just that," I shift in my seat to offer my undivided attention over the rowdy crowd engulfing us. "I have never seen you so carefree, laidback and genuinely happy before. I have never heard you laugh as hard as you have in the past two days. Why?"
"Why?" She chokes on her own word, still avoiding my eyes.
"Why?"
"Um...I could ask you the same thing?" She quips.
"You could," I concede, "but I know my reasoning. Do you?"
She blinks, baffled by my admission, followed by more rapid fluttering eyelashes as she scrapes her brain for an answer. Her bottom squirms under the pressure so she takes a long sip of her beer to either buy her time or clear her head, but I wait patiently, wondering if she is willing to be honest with me or even herself for that matter.
"I don't know," she blurts out, placing her beer into its cup holder. "Probably because for once in our lives we aren't being attacked and I know here, we can relax. I don't have to keep looking over my shoulder for some monster I was consistently told as a child, didn't exist."
The crowd around us settles down, everyone falling back into their seats. My eyes flick toward our son's for a moment, but he's still invested in the game. I turn my attention back to the flustered blonde and wonder why she seems so defensive all of a sudden?
"What about you? Why are you so chipper?" She sarcastically calls me out, throwing a look of disbelief my way.
"I never experienced a life like this before," I admit, lowering my voice so the strangers around us don't eavesdrop, but also forcing the beautiful woman to lean just a little further into my personal space. "You know what my life was like before the curse and even after. I know everyone has moved past the whole Evil Queen era, but I still feel like that weight is still on my shoulders. I know it's my imagination and I know people have moved on, but I'm still..."
"Self conscious?"
"Yes," I fully admit, swallowing hard because the truth is always a tough pill to swallow. "Here, in this world, I am just me. For once, I can let my guard down."
"I get it, I do, but Regina you have to know that your family doesn't see you like that anymore."
"I know it in my heart, but my mind...well that's another story." Emma nods along, but she's struggling to find any words to come back with so I continue. "Besides, being here with my son and witnessing the joy on his face, while spending quality time with him, well that is the greatest gift of all."
"Yeah," Emma smiles, glancing at our son's rosy cheeks and permanent smile. "I'm so happy we did this for him."
"Hmmm, me too," I conclude, slowly sipping my beverage and watching the two most important people in my life with nothing but adoration.
A/N: I just want to thank everyone so far for the reviews! It means so much to me. Also, this story will not have a CS baby.