Chapter Eleven


Looking down at her watch for the fourth time, Regina sighed. She was walking as fast as her legs would take her before she started looking foolish. She was winded. Her cheeks were red and her hair had thickened with sweat. Even Regina was irritated listening to the fast pace clacking of her heels as she hurried down the tiled halls.

She bypassed the service desk and headed straight for the office door.

Without knocking, Regina entered.

"I'm late. I know. I'm sorry."

Emma was already seated in the corner chair. She had the clipboard positioned against her knee. Emma's eyes followed her as she came to sit on the couch, and she didn't miss how Regina refused to look at her.

"Busy day?" Emma asked.

Regina uncharacteristically shrugged. "You could say that."

She silenced and turned away. She was sucking down on her bottom lip and her hand was rubbing circles into her stomach. Regina was nervous. *No, it was more than that*, Emma considered. *She was afraid*.

"Is something wrong?" Emma leaned forward against her knees.

Slowly, Regina rotated towards her.

It surprised Emma to see so much emotion in the woman's brown eyes. They were usually so closed off. There was sadness and fear. There was regret and fatigue. Emma felt her own head tilting in concern as she locked into their gaze.

"You reported me." Regina whispered sharply. "To the judge; for being over ten minutes late."

Emma nodded slowly. "I could have." She began. "I could."

Regina stiffened.

"But I didn't, and I won't."

Her brows flexed and Regina frowned in confusion. "I, I don't-"

"I'm not going to report you, Regina." Emma interrupted. "You don't have to worry about that. Just, don't make it a habit, okay?"

"Isn't that part of your job? To report me if I'm late or under the influence or, whatever?" Regina's hands flighted up at her side. "I don't understand why you wouldn't."

Emma chuckled, and she shook her head. "It almost sounds like you want me to report to the judge," She continued. "My job is to be human. I'm supposed to be objective and supportive. I'm not here to make your life harder. Besides, you're my last client of the day. We can still get in out hour, and the judge won't be any less wiser. The whole 'reporting for being late' debacle is a crock of shit anyway. We live in New York. No one is ever on time."

Regina laughed with a burst of genuine emotion. "Thank you," She smiled. "I appreciate it."

She returned the gesture. Regina's eyes were hot on hers, and Emma felt her body respond as a shiver ran down her spine.

"Anyway, now that there are no more concerns, can we get back to our session?" Emma drew her back further into the cushion as she looked away. Her crossed leg pulled in close against her chest and she bore their distance.

"I have something I'd like to talk to you about today, actually."

Emma couldn't hold back her look of surprise. "Really?"

Regina hummed and nodded. "I'd like to talk about Henry."

Emma's mouth wavered slightly before she could reply. "Alrighty then, what brought this on?"

"Well," Regina leaned forward. Her confidence returned. She tucked her ankles together against the couch and smirked. "I did what you asked."

Her stare was blank. Emma appeared confused.

"The homework assignment," Regina continued. "I played some Mario game with Henry."

"Right," Emma straightened. "And..."

"And..." Regina sung. "And it wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be."

Emma laughed with a shake of her head. "I had a feeling it wouldn't. So, you had fun then?"

"We did." She clarified. "And it had me thinking, perhaps I've been being too hard on Henry."

"Oh," Emma's lips pursed. "In what way?"

"I am aware that I don't have much to offer in the 'fun department,' Miss. Swan. Truthfully, most of parenting has come as a bit of a struggle for me. Henry is so passionate and excited, and I was always taught to control my excitement and act like an adult, well before I'd even hit puberty."

Emma stifled her laughter.

"When I first adopted Henry, I promised myself I wouldn't turn into my mother. I told myself I would be more like the other parents. I would be understanding of his needs. I would let him have friends, but the older Henry gets, the harder it becomes for me to do all that."

"What do you believe you are doing differently than other parents?"

Regina's finger tapped against her knee. She averted her glance to the floor and sighed. "When Henry and I were playing that game together, he told me that his friend Connor, from his class, and his father go to gaming club together. They build their own computer games and they participate in the parent/student science fair.

"I know how the other parents in Henry's class look at me. I don't sign up for PTA. I don't volunteer to help out on the class trips, or even to bring in food on class-event days-"

"Regina, Henry's only been at this school for, what, two months? Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

Regina's immediate response was to frown, but then she softened. "I'd like to think that, sure, but it wasn't any different when we were living in Connecticut, and Henry was enrolled in the private school there."

Clicking the cap of her pen, Emma nodded. "And you believe that by not participating in Henry's school functions, you are turning into your mother?"

"That; amongst other things." "What other things?"

Regina flashed Emma a playful glare. "Well, for starters, Henry doesn't have many friends."

"How many, is many?"
"None."
"Henry has no friends?"

Regina sharply shook her head. "None,"

"Why would you think that would be your fault?" Emma asked with a frown. "Lots of kids struggle with making friends in school."

Her nostrils flared and Regina rolled her eyes. "Well, it's not as if Henry has a very good role model for taking social queues."

Emma shrugged. "So, why don't you try making some friends."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Emma dragged a pointed finger through the air. "Make some friends, and encourage Henry to do the same."

"And what am I supposed to say to my son?" Regina snorted. "Go out and find a friend. Don't come home until you've done so?"

Laughing, Emma nodded. "That could work. Or-"

"I was hoping you might have better input." She interrupted.

Emma glowered at Regina's response. "Or-" She continued. "You could encourage Henry to bring a friend home from school for a playdate."

Regina's eyes boggled. "What, and then be forced into having incessant small talk with another child's parents during pick up?" She shook her head. "Not happening."

Emma stared back blankly. "Wrong answer, Regina."

Raising into her spine, Regina tipped her chin and gritted her teeth. "I'll think about it."

"And that's good enough for me." Emma loosened, leaning forward again. "So, what else?" She shrugged. "Why are you comparing yourself to other parents today?"

"No reason," Regina said flatly. She picked at the microscopic lint on her black skirt before smoothing out the fabric. "Do you want to have your own kids someday, Miss. Swan?"

Emma choked on nothing. "I, uh, I'm not sure I should answer that."

"Come on," Regina boasted. "I have a point to make. Besides, I won't tell anyone. We have already shared a few secrets between us anyway."

Emma's green eyes lowered into slivers. She felt her shoulders pull in tight. "I wouldn't be opposed to the idea, I suppose." She drawled.

She didn't miss the glint of something smug sparkling in Regina's complexion as Emma stated her answer.

"So, if you had a child who was nothing like yourself, what lengths would you go to, to make sure that they felt that they belonged with you?"

"Whatever I had to, I guess." Emma shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

Regina's eyes fought around to the ceiling before settling back down on Emma.

"I've noticed a change in Henry recently." She stated smoothly.

"A good change?" Emma questioned, and Regina nodded. "Care to explain?"

"Well, he's been doing better in school, for starters. He hasn't been quite the over-active tyrant that he was being before. He's been paying attention during lessons and doing his in-class assignments. Mrs. Blanchard is complaining less, and she has even been sending home reports of his good behavior."

"That does sound good," Emma smiled.

"Henry's also been uncharacteristically wonderful for me at home as well. He's been doing his chores without the battles. He's on top of his homework and going to sleep on time. I'd originally thought he might have been acting out because of my arrest; the arrest, the move, and everything else that happened over the summer, but now that I am thinking about it, he may have only been bored."

"Bored?" Emma's head cocked to the side.

"Bored, lonely; either of those, really." Regina explained.

Emma hummed as she bit down on the butt of her pen. "And who is to thank for all that?"

Regina's eyes zeroed-in on Emma's. "You are, Miss. Swan."

"Me?" Emma dropped the pen to her lap and drove a thumb into her chest. "You think I have something to do with it?"

She nodded slowly. "I think having someone to talk to, someone who listens to him completely, is really helpful for Henry."

Emma shook her head. "But what about Ruby, and what about your story times together? I think you might be misjudging yourself here."

Regina batted Emma off with a flash wave of her hand. "Ruby is terrible with kids. She always has been. She was looking for work when we moved to New York and I hired her to help out around the house."

"And what about you? I know you encourage Henry's creativity, and I know you share good experiences with your son, Regina. Don't sell yourself short."

"And while that's very kind of you to say," Regina sang as she adverted her gaze. "I had always thought it was the fantasy that was causing Henry to act out. Now I know he acts out because that's all I've ever taught him to do."

Regina's palms had begun to sweat. She wiped them quickly against her thighs and stiffened.

"Henry knows how I am with people," Regina continued. "-at work or in public. I shared with him my love for storytelling, but I never helped him work out how to behave in life. I never listen to how his day is. I never ask him what he learned in school. I force Henry to do his homework, and then encourage him to dream-up a new day."

She sighed again before pulling her attention back to Emma. Emma could see by the way that Regina's lips pursed together that she had more she wanted to say. Whatever it was, though, it was stuck there behind decades of parental neglect. It was captured by many friendless years and her own internal struggles with isolation. Emma could understand that only all-too well.

"So, where do I come in?" She finally asked.

"You listen to him." Regina whispered truthfully. "You listen to Henry in a way that I never could. You bring fantasy and real life together. I give him routine and stability, and sure I tell him my stories, but you tie all of those things together for him. Henry is getting better, because he has you to talk to."

"Regina-" Emma was shaking her head as she leaned forward in her chair.

"It's okay. I wasn't looking for you to respond. I-"

"Can I finish?" Emma interrupted, and Regina, startled by the woman's surprisingly forceful tone, nodded quickly. "You realized you made a mistake. You're a parent, and that happens, but guess what? Henry is only five years old. Sorry-" She paused. "Five and three quarters."

Regina laughed and her complexion brightened.

"You know that you need to make some changes, but you have more than enough time to do it. Think of how great your relationship with Henry could be, if you do."

"There's only one problem." Regina's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. "I don't think that I can."

"You don't think you're capable of change?" Emma inquired at a whisper.

Regina's only response was to harden her stare; as if saying, 'What do you think?'

"Well, you played video games, didn't you? And you lived with those red scribbles all over your dining room, right?" Emma slid the clip board from her lap and raised a foot under her rear. "You are capable of much more than you think, Regina. You might be surprised what you'll open yourself up to learn, if only you are willing to let a little more color into your life."

She was silent for a time. Regina's eyes traced slowly over Emma's face, seemingly searching for her lies. "Maybe so," She whispered.

"Maybe so," Emma agreed.

Twenty minutes later, after their session came to a close, Regina hesitated by the door. Emma's back was to her as she packed the client folders into her bag.

Emma tensed when she turned, startled to find Regina still standing there.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, unsure.

Her arms folded over her chest protectively and she felt the corner of the desk jab into her thigh as Emma took a cautionary step backwards.

"I need to say something before I leave."

Regina was fidgeting with her hands. Her eyes were at Emma's feet. She had her shoulder's pulled up towards her ears and her toes were making small circles into the rug.

"Um, go ahead," Emma encouraged.

She felt her temperature rise as Regina looked to her once more.

"I-I wanted to say thank you." She quietly began. "I wasn't sure that I could trust you in the beginning, and I don't have a lot of experience with... therapy..."

Regina's eyes darkened into a shade of brown that Emma had never seen on her before. She looked unusually vulnerable, standing there in the corner of her small office. Regina appeared tiny and afraid, almost as if she were trying to blend into the old brick walls and disappear.

"I know now, that I can trust you." Regina continued. "Despite the reasons that I am here, I am thankful to have you on my side. I know that if Henry has faith in you, then so can I. I just wanted to tell you that."

Emma's mouth dropped to respond, but nothing but air came out.

It hadn't mattered, though, because as soon as Regina had finished her statement, she was already leaving the office on hot heels. Her regal posture returned. Her face hardened. Regina returned to her world of business and left Emma behind feeling worse than ever before.