By now, you've read everything that is pertinent in order for you to function as the mayor of Storybrooke and as Henry's mother. Regina cocked an eyebrow. "That's questionable," she comment in response. She'd taken to saying aloud whatever she was thinking as she read through the material. Somehow, it made her feel less alone when she did. You probably doubt the truth of this statement, but it is true. If you abide by the guidelines listed for you, you should flourish once you return home.
With a grunt, Regina rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. Was it really flourishing if all she did was her job and look after Henry on her appointed days? It seemed to her that she had expected herself to be happy living the same day on repeat. How was that enjoyable? She didn't know and couldn't begin to guess what she'd been thinking before her world disappeared.
You likely have one more day left before you must drive back home. "Of course I do, but you knew I would. Am I always this annoying about things?" Consider going to the comic book store listed in this book and picking up a few of the trade paperbacks listed two pages back from here. Henry is an avid comic reader, and he'll appreciate the gift.
Her son seemed like an animated and bright young man. That was something, at least.
Go to the coffee shop listed and buy four pounds of the light roast for your personal assistant. She's a coffee drinker, and you always bring some of this coffee back with you when you return from this trip. It makes her happy, and her happiness means your work goes easier. Be kind to her. She keeps you afloat by being extremely competent behind the scenes. Praise her often, and be genuine about it. She can tell when you're not, and it only serves to irritate her.
She could see where this was going. It was a grocery list of things for her to do before she made it back home. She sighed yet again.
Take in a movie while you can. The movie theater in Storybrooke doesn't often get new movies, so it is a treat to be able to see a new release in theaters. Consider watching the Disney movie 'Maleficent.' She's always been one of your most favored Disney villains. She told herself to go watch a Disney movie? That seemed odd. It was unlikely she would even know anything about Disney movies. Based on what she'd read, she struck herself as more the kind to enjoy foreign films and highbrow drama. Speaking of Disney movies, you loathe 'Snow White.' You think the entire movie is tripe. She made a mental note to watch 'Snow White' so she'd know why she hated the movie so much.
Wiping at her eyes, she leaned back in the desk chair. The gaps in her memory made no sense to her. She knew what Disney was, but couldn't recall ever seeing a movie. She knew what the latest fashions were, but she couldn't recall ever reading about them. She knew how to speak Spanish, but she couldn't recall how she knew. It was very strange. It was like having Swiss cheese for a memory bank, and that comparison in itself was strange as she couldn't remember if she'd ever eaten or even actually seen a slice of Swiss cheese.
She turned back to the notebook. You'll get frustrated. Do not lash out. You'll feel lonely. Do not seek solace in the people of the town. You'll want to confide in someone. Do not place your trust in anyone, even your son. No one can know that you don't remember everything about your life. It will put you at a great disadvantage. It will make you appear weak.
You are not weak.
You are resilient. You are strong willed. Arguably, you may be a touch evil, but you are not weak. Remember who you are and take your confidence from it. You are Regina Mills, Mayor of Storybrooke and mother of Henry Mills.
Know who you are now and make it who everyone knows you to be, and you will find your happiness.
Regina reread the last few paragraphs several times. Something about the pep talk that wasn't really a pep talk told her that, when she returned, her already complicated situation would become even worse. She wondered why she should even trust what her former self had written. Was it really wise to trust no one? How could she go through life like that? How could anyone? That was a lonely existence. Wouldn't it be miserable?
She rubbed her eyes agains. It was nearing the end of her fifth day at the hotel. The sun was already setting, and her confidence she could return to this town she couldn't remember and interact with these people she didn't recall ever knowing was sinking with the sun.
What would happen if she couldn't make this work? Why was it so important for her not to inform anyone of her current situation? There wasn't so much as a hint to those answers anywhere in any of the notebooks.
Closing the last of them, she placed it atop the stack on the desk and stood with a moan. She was going to go down to the bar and spend some time nursing a glass of wine some place with background noise. She needed to be around people even if she wasn't sure she should be interacting with them. Tomorrow would come when it came, and there was nothing she could do about it and no options that were really any better than her returning to Storybrooke.
She walked into the bathroom to change. At least, for tonight, she could pretend to have a little break from her strange reality.
"Whatever you want, you can save it," Emma snarled over the music playing at the Rabbit Hole. She pulled her bottle of beer a touch closer to her and slouched a bit more on her stool.
"You're still mad, Swan?" Hook leaned against the bar, giving her his best boyish grin. "I thought you'd be over that by now. It was just a little disagreement."
"You're an ass, Hook," she spat back, not bothering to look at him.
"Come now, what's a little tomfoolery between two people who love each other?" He bent lower, trying to get her to make eye contact with him. "Was what I said really all that bad?"
Finally, she turned, locking her eyes with his and shoving her nearly empty bottle away from her as she stood up from her spot. The glass bottle clattered to the floor causing the people around them to turn to the ruckus. "No, what you said wasn't 'that bad,' Killian, but that doesn't make you less of an ass, and, just because I have feelings for you, doesn't mean you get a free pass to be a jerk or to assume that you can start meddling in my life. That's not how this works. I'm not some piece of property that you and my parents can talk about and decide what's best for when I'm not around, or even when I am around. I'm my own person..."
He held his arms up in a show of innocence. "I've never said otherwise, Swan." Glancing around, he realized they were starting to make a scene. "You know, maybe we should take this somewhere more private? Someplace quieter where we can talk, yes?"
"No." She gave him a hard look. "You don't get to tell me what to do or wh to do it with. If I want to make a scene at the bar, then I will, and, if I want to stalk Regina until I knew she's safe and not messed up in some new way, then I will." She poked him in the chest hard enough to make him flinch. "I'm not a princess, Hook. I'm the White-Freaking-Knight, and I'll save whoever in the hell I want to save. You go that?"
He swallowed and glanced around again at the now eerily quiet bar. Obviously, Emma had been drinking for far longer than he'd thought. She was clearly drunk, and he really should get her out of there before she did something they both regretted. "Okay, love, okay, whatever you say. Just... why don't we..."
"Why don't you shut up? You think one time travel adventure makes you the end all and be all of determining what's best around here? This isn't even your town, Hook. You don't belong here. It's not yours. None of this is yours." She motioned around, and, to her credit, didn't even sway as she did so.
Narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice, he took the bait. "Whose is it, Swan?"
She leaned in, her words crisp even as the smell of beer rolled off of her. "Hers," she hissed. Leaning back, she reached into her pocket and threw money on top of the bar. "Leave me alone, Killian," she yelled as she walked a straight line to the door. "You're on my shit list and about two spots away from my 'I'm done with you' list."
She let the door slam behind her, and it was only after she was certain no one was following her and no one could see her that she allowed her bravado to fall away. She swayed and then stumbled into the alley behind Granny's where she slid down the wall onto the dirt. Wiping at her fact, she pulled her hand back to find it wet. She'd started crying, and she didn't understand why, but now she couldn't stop crying.
She gave up trying to get herself under control and permitted this moment to be emotional. She'd lost so much in such a short amount of time, and the one person who probably got her the best of anyone in this town was the exact person she'd screwed over. Good intentions or not, she hated herself for taking Regina's happy ending away. She hated that she couldn't do anything to fix it. She hated that no one else seemed as concerned about Regina as she did, and she hated that Regina seemed to consume her waking thoughts and was starting to sneak into her dreams.
Nothing about this was normal or healthy, but, then again, her life had never been either one, and she hated that, too.
"I can't believe you're drinking that alone," a smooth baritone voice commented cordially. Regina turned to find a handsome man in a well tailored suit sliding onto the stool next to her. She quirked her eyebrow at him, and he smiled in return. "Wine as lovely as that should be savored over a nice conversation with someone interesting."
"And you're just the interesting person to provide me with the conversation?" She gave him an almost smile. She didn't have a doubt in her mind he was flirting with her, and she felt like having some fun. "What do you considering interesting?"
"Well, for starters," he replied while flagging the bartender down, "your name. Mine's Andrew."
"Regina." She gave a small nod of her head.
"That is a lovely name, Regina. It suits you." Andrew paid for his drink with cash, leaving a handsome tip along with the change.
She raised her eyebrows. "And why is that?"
"It means 'queen' in a a few languages, and, in others, it means 'royal', and you certainly hold yourself with poise." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Be honest, you're some kind of duchess or something from overseas, and you're slumming it in Boston just to get away from the bore of being a royal, aren't you?"
He waggled his eyebrows for added effect. It worked. She laughed, allowing her smile to blossom across her face. "Hardly, though thank you for the compliment."
"You're welcome." He took a sip of his wine, obviously savoring the taste. "So, are you here to meet someone tonight?"
"No," she shook her head. "I'm here to... to forget a few things before I have to return back to work tomorrow." She could see the sparkle of hope in his eyes. Before he could say something else, she held her hand up. "I have a teenaged son, and I'm a small town politician, so the only thing I'm going to do to forget is have maybe another glass of wine and then return to my room... alone."
The sparkle faded from his eyes, but he managed to keep the disappointment from his face. "Married?"
"No," she chuckled at the very idea given what she knew of herself. "Widow."
"I'm sorry," he said with genuineness. "Okay, so I get you're not interested in any company later, but you seem like a nice enough person. Would you mind just talking? I'll be honest, I've probably hit on ever woman in this bar tonight." He winced apologetically. "I know, I have no shame, but, to tell you the truth, I'm not even interested in going to anyone's room tonight."
She gave him a look of disbelief. "Then why try to pick everyone up?"
"Because sometimes it's nice to know you're still desirable, even at my age." He laughed at himself. "Actors, we're a narcissistic lot."
"Oh," her eyebrows rose in surprise, "you're an actor? I'm sorry if I should recognize you. I'm afraid I don't watch much television, and I'm terribly selective about the movies I see." At least, she was reasonably sure she was terribly selective about the movies she watched.
"Don't be sorry. I'm a bit actor. No one recognizes me, but at least I make a living at it. I'm only in Boston this week for a family thing. I'll be back in LA by Monday morning. I got a gig on a TNT drama. I'm the dead body." He shot her a proud grin.
"Well, that sounds very challenging." She chuckled. "How long do you hold your breath for a take?"
He shrugged. "Couple of seconds? They try to not actually film full body shots for longer than that because we do have to breathe."
She nodded her understanding. "And how did you come about this prestigious role?"
"Are you mocking me?" He gave her a playful glare. "Because I think you're mocking me."
She smiled again. "Perhaps a bit."
"Don't mock me!" He called out in faux defense. "At least I'm an employed actor. Do you know how many actors out there are the unemployed type?"
"No," she shook her head, giving a sly look. "Just how many servers and fry cooks are there in the world?"
His laugh was melodious. "I see what you did there." He winked. "Nice."
Again, she gave a small tip of her head. "So, Andrew, tell me about LA. I've never been to the other coast..."
