Chapter 8:

The Queen Mother

A/N: This chapter is told entirely from Stephen Queen's point of view.

I woke up early the next morning even before my alarm clock was set to ring for the day. I ran straight to my dad's room to see if he was already awake. He had promised the night before that he would tell me how his first date with Felicity went, and I was so excited to hear about it.

You see, by the time Dad and Felicity arrived at the apartment after their date, Emily had already fallen asleep on Aunt Thea's lap in the living room couch. I and Aunt Thea, on the other hand, had kept myself awake by watching five episodes of The Flash reruns.

"We're back," Dad said as he and Felicity came through the door.

"Shh… we don't want to wake this little angel," Aunt Thea said, with her pointer finger on her lips.

I sprang from the couch to hug my dad. With my arms still wrapped around his waist, I looked up to see his brightly smiling face. "How did it go, Dad?" I asked.

"Let's just say it has been the most delightful evening in my life," he replied. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

I begged my dad twice to tell me all about 'the most delightful evening of his life,' but he insisted that it will have to wait until morning because Emily was fast asleep and Felicity needed to tuck her into bed, so we had to get going.

I looked at Felicity, who was standing about a foot away from my dad. She was so beautiful, even more beautiful now that her face was glowing with happiness. She was perfect for my dad. I wanted her to be my new mom so badly, and I wanted to tell her so. But for some reason, I couldn't find the right words to say what was in my heart. I let go of my dad, reached for one of her hands, and tugged lightly, signaling her to come forward and bend down to my level. Sensing what I had wanted her to do, Felicity knelt down in front of me and my dad and held both my hands in her soft ones. Her smile grew wider and her eyebrows lifted, cueing me in that she was going to pay attention to whatever it was that I had to say to her. I didn't care if I was going to mess up her make-up or her hair. I kissed her cheek and then threw my arms around her neck, pulling her close to a tight hug. Felicity's arms were around me in an instant. For the first time in three years, I felt a mother's embrace once again, and it felt so… good. (I know boys aren't supposed to cry. But, hey! Can you blame me?)

When I opened the door to my dad's room that morning, I saw his empty bed. And then, I heard the shower in his bathroom running. I figured it would take him a while, so I decided to go to the kitchen and have breakfast.

When I got there, my grandmother Moira was already seated on one of the bar stools of the long marble top kitchen counter where we had breakfast every morning if we didn't have guests staying over. She was already having coffee while reading the morning paper, as always. Every morning, she'd be the first one awake, the first one in the kitchen, ready to greet everyone else. She'd already done her hair and put on day make-up long before anyone else in our humungous house had showered, exercised, or started brewing coffee.

"Oh, good morning, Stephen!" Grandma greeted.

"Good morning, Grandma," I greeted back as I climbed up the bar stool beside her.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked.

"Ham and eggs, please," I answered. Grandma called for Lucia and ordered her to make me breakfast as requested. While waiting for my meal, I looked at my grandmother as she sipped her coffee and scanned through the first few pages of the Starling City Daily News.

I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like my grandma. She was dignified, not just in the way she carried herself, but more so in her actions and in the tone of her voice. She commanded respect from all of us, and she is used to having her way… always. For Moira Queen, everything had to be under control. Her control. Still, although she was more of the serious and strict type of woman, who always minded her manners and made sure the rest of us did as well, she had her sweet moments too. She would sometimes give me presents even if there wasn't any occasion. Sometimes she'd sneak up behind me and give me a hug, calling me all sorts of pet names that I never really told her I disliked. Somehow I knew Grandma loved me, but it had always felt like she was holding something back, which I couldn't quite figure out then.

I didn't realize I was staring at her until I saw her flip to the lifestyle and society page of the Sunday paper, as a frown began to form slowly but surely on her now stern face. Just then, my dad walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning! Isn't it a wonderful day?" he cheerfully exclaimed.

"Morning, Dad," I greeted.

"Well… good morning, Ollie. I trust you slept well… after such an eventful and controversial evening," Grandma greeted and remarked with a strange look on her face.

"Uh-oh, I sense trouble," I thought to myself.

My dad sensed it too. The cheerful glow on his face quickly disappeared. He cleared his throat and stretched his neck and shoulders before he spoke. "I see you've been reading the papers."

"As a matter of fact, I have," Grandma said. "I see you and your charming date managed to draw the attention of Starling's elite at the Plaza last night. Congratulations," she said with one eyebrow slightly lifted as a hint of disapproval.

"Mother, I can assure you, that was not our intention. Someone from the restaurant must have tipped off the press when I made the reservation. The reporters didn't get any comment from me, and they all walked away as soon as we entered the lobby. Someone from the hotel staff or any one of the guests dining in the restaurant must have leaked out information."

"I understand," she replied. "How could the press not notice when my handsome son, the city's most eligible widower takes another beautiful woman out on a dinner date… at the Grand Plaza of all places? I just feel bad that everyone else in Starling learned about your new girlfriend before your own mother did."

Ouch! "That must have stung, Dad," I told my dad with just the look in my eyes. I kept my fingers crossed, hoping that somehow Dad could wiggle his way out of this conversation that was becoming more and more tense as the seconds ticked by. Lucia came in with my breakfast and I started digging in, pretending not to care.

"I didn't mean for it to happen that way, Mom. I was going to introduce her to you this Thanksgiving. I didn't think the press would beat me to it though," Dad explained. "Her name is Felicity. Felicity Smoak. Stephen and I met her and her three-year-old daughter in the park, and we became… friends… very good friends… over the summer. And yes, she is my girlfriend." As he talked about Felicity, the expression on his face changed. His eyes began to glisten and the shadow that covered his face began to lift.

"I see." Grandma put down the paper on the kitchen counter and looked straight at my dad. "A beautiful singing blonde from Vegas… Hmm… I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to date a showgirl. What in the world were you thinking, Oliver?!" Grandma wasn't shouting, but she spoke with a sharp, forceful voice and eyes that could stab like a dagger. I could feel my dad's heartbeat from a few feet away. His face reddened with anger.

"Mom! You're unbelievable! You don't even know the first thing about her." Dad began to yell. But after heaving a deep sigh, he tried to compose himself. He lowered his voice out of respect as he continued, "Felicity Megan Smoak graduated from MIT at the top of her class. She's the best there is in the field of information technology, and she's an asset to QC. She's a remarkable person and a loving, caring mother… and she means the world to me. And I'm asking… as your son… that you please give her a chance before you go judging her based on first impressions and second-hand information."

"Way to go, Dad," I cheered in my mind as I gulped down half a glass of milk.

Grandma was silent for a few seconds, her hands balled into fists on the marble-top counter. She lowered her gaze, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as she grit her teeth. She then looked up to face my dad again. "All right, Oliver. I'm willing to meet this… this remarkable Felicity Smoak. Invite her and her daughter over for dinner Sunday evening before Thanksgiving."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," Dad replied. He had successfully controlled his temper, and he had convinced Grandma to at least get to know Felicity.

At that moment, Aunt Thea walked into the kitchen and caught her mother and brother staring at each other. Immediately, her radar picked up the tension in the room. "I was going to say 'good morning,' but I guess the situation doesn't exactly call for it." She walked passed my dad, tapped him twice on the shoulder, and took the next empty bar stool at the kitchen counter.

The rest of breakfast time wasn't the least bit appetizing. Grandma was indifferent. She sipped the rest of her coffee and skipped her meal entirely. She went back to her room and stayed there for the rest of the morning.

When Grandma left, Aunt Thea asked my dad what happened. He just pointed her to the direction of the newspaper and said, "Lifestyle page." Aunt Thea put a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and flipped to the said page. She took just one look at the byline and the photograph of my dad and Felicity in the restaurant, and she got all the answers to the questions she hadn't even asked yet. She bit her lower lip, and then turned to my dad with a grin. "Don't worry, Ollie. Everything's gonna work out fine. If she's the one, then she's the one," she said with a comforting tone.

As soon as my dad finished his breakfast, he said to me, "Finish up, Stephen. We're going to church."

"Church?" Aunt Thea asked, puzzled at what my dad had just said. "Ollie, you haven't gone to church since-"

"Since Mom's funeral," I cut in.

"I know, I know. But we're going today." My dad just smirked at us. But when he saw the puzzled look on our faces, he began to give an explanation. "Last night on our date, Felicity surprised me by singing a terrific medley. Turns out the guest pianist at the Plaza was a friend of hers from Vegas. You should have heard her sing! I mean, she's better than… than… she's better than anyone I've ever heard! Anyway, on our way back to the apartment, I asked Felicity when I could hear her sing again. So, she invited me to church today. She's singing a solo part for the choir's song number. I thought I'd bring Stephen along. Would you like to join us, Thea?"

"That's great! You and Stephen go. I'd love to come along, but my friend Roy is coming over and we have a lot of catching up to do since I left for London," said Aunt Thea.

"Then I'll see you later," Dad said. "Come on, Stephen. We don't wanna be late for church!"

But we were. The church was in a busy part of the city and did not have basement parking, nor was parallel parking allowed along the street in front of the church. And since Dad hadn't been to this church for a long time, he had forgotten where the nearest pay parking area was. We spent twenty minutes circling three blocks trying to find parking space.

By the time we entered the sanctuary and settled into the second to the last pew, the pianist had already begun playing the introduction to the choir's song. Felicity was in front of the choir, behind a microphone, wearing a robe that matched the choir gowns worn by the singers behind her. She sang the solo part of the choral arrangement for the gospel song "His Eye is on the Sparrow," as the choir hummed their heavenly harmonies in the background. My dad was right. Felicity's voice was out of this world! Her singing was soulful and sincere. The melody floated from her lips to our ears like fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky. Her song echoed across the room and high up to the vaulted ceiling of the building. It was just so amazing!

I looked at my dad as Felicity sang. His face was peaceful. His body was relaxed. And he wasn't doing that thing with his fingers when he was uptight or nervous. It was as if his argument with Grandma earlier this morning never happened. He gazed at her from the beginning to the end of the song. As Felicity hit the final high note, the congregation – which, of course, included Dad and me – clapped in appreciation.

Less than an hour later, the service ended. As people started emptying the pews and headed for the front doors of the church, Dad and I met Felicity and Emily halfway down the middle aisle in the sanctuary. Felicity had removed her robe and was now just wearing a simple, knee-length, sleeveless, pink dress. Emily was right beside her.

"Hi! Glad you came!" Felicity said as she tiptoed and kissed Dad lightly on his cheek.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world! Dad was right. You have an amazing voice, Felicity!" I remarked. Dad just grinned and chuckled as he rubbed the back of my head.

"Well thank you, Stephen," Felicity replied. "You sure know how to give a lady a compliment."

At that moment, the Reverend came up from behind Felicity. "Felicity, my dear, thank you so much for singing today," he said.

Felicity turned around and saw the Reverend. "Oh, hello, Reverend! It was my pleasure. Ask me again," she said. She then realized that she needed to introduce the pastor to Dad and me, so she added, "Rev. Olsen, I'd like you to meet Mr. Oliv-"

"Oliver, what a pleasant surprise! I haven't seen you here since…" Rev. Olsen wasn't able to finish his sentence.

"You two already know each other?" Felicity asked in astonishment.

"Uhm, yes. I used to come here… almost every Sunday… growing up," my dad began to explain in fragments, with a slightly timid tone of voice. "But then I lost my way and drifted… Let's just say I didn't think I was cut out for church when I started fooling around. Next time I set foot in here was… the day I wed Laurel." He paused and swallowed what seemed to be a lump in his throat. Felicity sensed that Dad's explanation was bringing back sad memories, so she slipped her hand into his and held it tight. He continued, "Laurel, Stephen, and I came here every so often. But when she passed… it's just… it's just been so hard to-"

"I'm just really glad to see you again today, Oliver," Rev. Olsen said with a reassuring tone, trying to rescue the conversation. "I hope to be seeing you here more often… with Ms. Smoak, I hope?"

Dad nodded with a small smile at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, that would be good," he replied.

"How is Moira? I hope your mother is well?" Rev. Olsen asked.

"Oh, she is. She still has that book you gave her when my father died. The one about coping with grief, was it? That book really helped her a lot," Dad answered.

"Good. Did it help you?" the Reverend asked again.

When my dad was unable to answer his question, Rev. Olsen realized he had struck a sensitive cord in my dad's heart. So he apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I hope I wasn't way out of line. Anyways, it's good to see you, and you too, Stephen. I'm sorry if I took too much of your time. You should probably get going."

"Thank you, Reverend," Felicity said. She and Dad shook Rev. Olsen's hand, and then the pastor walked away to speak to other churchgoers who were leaving.

As the four of us walked down the aisle towards the front doors of the church, my dad spoke. "Speaking of my mother, she's inviting you and Emily for Thanksgiving dinner. Are you up to it?" he asked Felicity.

"Your Mom's inviting us?" she asked in return.

"Yeah, she is. She'd like to meet you and Emily," he replied. And then he added, "I'd like you to meet her."

"Oh… okay," she said. "But Thanksgiving is still a month away. Why the early warning?"

My dad had a sheepish grin on his face. He just scratched the side of his head and didn't really answer her question.

"Oliver, I've only heard you talk about your mother a few times. I think you need to tell me more about her. So I could be ready to meet 'the Queen mother,' you know."

"You sound like you're meeting the Queen of England," he remarked.

"That's because I feel like I'm meeting the Queen of England!" Felicity said. "Oliver, you know what I mean. I want to put my best foot forward. I mean, I'll be meeting Moira Queen for the first time! I don't want it to be a disaster. You know how I can get when I start to babble and say all sorts of awkward things. I might embarrass you."

"You won't embarrass me. Haven't I told you a few times before that I find your awkward babbling cute and amusing? You'll do just fine," Dad said.

At that moment, I wished my dad had told Felicity more about my grandmother. She needed to know. She needed to know that she was about to be grilled, roasted, and fried. She deserved to know what she was getting into. As we exited the church and started to stroll down the sidewalk to the parking lot a block away, I tugged at my dad's arm and whispered to him, "Don't you think you ought to tell her what to expect about Grandma?"

Dad's reply was a bit disappointing. "Don't worry, Stephen. Everything's gonna be fine. Your grandmother's gonna love her." I sure hoped so.