CHAPTER 12

The next morning, the family drove down the road in a companionable silence, each member lost in their own thoughts. Seemingly out of nowhere, Henry appeared between the front seats with a question. "So… how come you guys never told me how you met?"

Startled, his parents glanced at him in tandem before looking at each other. After a few moments of silent conversation, it was his mother who answered him. "I'm not sure you're quite ready for that story yet, kid."

"Oh come on Mom, it can't be that bad. Plus you promised you wouldn't lie any more…" he trailed off, flashing a mischievous smile her way.

"Okay, kid, telling you you're ready for something does not equate a lie. I haven't lied to you about how your dad and I met, I just haven't told you. There's a difference." She looked at Neal with a silent plea for assistance, but he merely shrugged. "You're terrible at this!" she exclaimed, laughing. "You're supposed to back me up!"

"I just don't think it's so terrible, that's all. After all the kid's been through, it's really not such a traumatic story."

"Oh it's not, is it?" She shook her head. "Fine. Henry, I actually met your dad in this very car. I got in it one day, and he was sleeping in the backseat." She raised an eyebrow at Neal. "There, you happy?"

"Wait, why was he—" Henry began, confused, but his question was lost in the midst of his parents' banter.

"Way to misrepresent it, Em," Neal said with a laugh. He locked eyes with Henry in the rearview as he addressed him. "That's not exactly how it went down, Henry. While it's true that I was sleeping in the backseat when your mom got in the car, the part that she left out is that it was my car that she got into."

"What? Why was Mom—"

"Okay, but the fact that it was your car was a bit open to interpretation, there, buddy," Emma needled, ignoring the questions from the backseat. "You got it the same way that I did!"

"Well at least I had the keys!"

"What are you guys even talking about?"

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

"Can you start at the beginning? Dad was sleeping in the car. It was his car? So Mom, did you get in by accident? Did you have another one like it? Dad, why were you sleeping in here anyways?"

Emma sighed. "This is exactly what I didn't want to have to explain to him," she told Neal.

"All right, all right, but now we need to explain the whole thing. Henry," he began, "First I want to tell you that your mom and I aren't proud of what we did. It's been a long time and we made some really poor choices back then, okay? I don't want you thinking our old life was cool or whatever."

"I dunno, I kinda liked it," Emma muttered sullenly under her breath.

Neal shot her a look and then continued. "Yes, I was sleeping in the car. I didn't really have anywhere else to sleep, no apartment or anything. So then your mom comes along and tries to steal the car—"

"Mom stole a car?!"

"Wait, it gets better," she replied, beginning to get into the story as she resigned herself to the fact that it was being told against her better judgment.

"Yeah, she sort of stole the car. The problem is, I was there in the back seat, and I kinda scared her when I sat up."

Emma turned to Neal. "Did I ever tell you he did that to me once?" she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder at the boy in the backseat.

"No," he chuckled. "Deja vu?"

"All over again," she replied.

"Well, she wouldn't let me come with her!" Henry defended himself. "Anyways," he forged ahead before either parent could get a reprimand out, "What happened after you scared her?"

Emma bit her lip and cringed a bit. "I kinda ran a stop sign."

"Uh oh."

"I know, right?" his father chimed in, stifling a laugh. "I told her to keep her eyes on the road!"

"Seriously, next time somebody jumps out of the back seat and asks you out, you try to concentrate on your driving."

"He asked you out? After you stole his car?"

Emma looked pointedly at Neal, who ignored the question and continued the story. "So then this cop pulls us over, and here's your mom with a screwdriver in the ignition-"

"What's the screwdriver for?"

"Crap," Neal said as he found himself on the receiving end of a death glare from Emma.

"Can you at least try to keep it to the PG-13 version of the story?"

"It's just a thing, kid. Doesn't matter," he continued, rushing to finish the story as quickly as possible before he got himself in more trouble. "So the cop pulls us over and I had to pretend I was trying to teach her how to drive stick shift, and that's why she missed the stop. Somehow he bought it, and then your mom agreed to go on a date with me." He looked at Emma. "There. Happy?"

"Oh no," she replied, "You don't get out of this as the hero. See, Henry, the piece your dad left out of the story is that the reason he was so worried about getting pulled over is that it wasn't his car, either."

"Dad stole the car, too? You stole a stolen car?"

"Yeah, kid. Yeah, I did. Can't say I'm proud of it, exactly, and I better not EVER catch you trying a stunt like that."

"Ever," his father added.

"See? THAT is how the two-parent thing works. You back me up."

"I agreed this time! I'm not backing you up if I don't agree!"

"It's all about a united front, Neal. If we disagree, we gotta talk about it when he's not around."

"Since when are you an expert on this sort of stuff?"

"I did some reading on it during our year away. Apparently in our cursed memories I was super-mom or something."

"Are we stopping soon?" Henry interrupted, quickly tiring of the argument. "I'm hungry."

"Next exit's in three miles. How do burgers sound?"

"Want me to drive for a while?" Emma asked as they returned to the car after lunch.

"Nah, I'm good," Neal replied, declining with a casual wave of his hand.

"Can I take a turn?" Henry piped up, his mischievous grin making another appearance.

"No!" both of his parents answered in unison, exasperation written all Emma's face.

"I am going to kill my father for putting that idea in his head," she said under her breath as Henry crawled into the back seat, causing Neal to laugh.

"Pretty sure that's a typical thing for kids to ask, Em, what's your father got to do with it?"

She swung the door shut, blocking Henry from hearing their conversation. "He and my mother were so desperate to prove that they were 'cool' that he let Henry drive his truck."

"He what?!"

"Now the kid thinks he knows how to drive. Nevermind that they ran over a mailbox and I had to clean up that mess. Oh, I was NOT pleased."

"Yeah, I imagine not," Neal said with a shake of his head.

"Oh, but here's the best part," she said, lowering her voice. "You'll appreciate this one, especially given our conversation earlier. A few days after that stunt, he got pissed at me and decided he wanted to go back to New York. So he told me he wanted to get something out of the car and asked me for the keys."

"Let me guess. So he could take it?"

"Yep," she replied, trying not to laugh. "I know it shouldn't be funny, but…"

"Yeah, that's our kid all right. I had no idea that was a genetic trait."

"Me either," she replied. "He's got a knack for stuff like that though. Makes me a little concerned what else we might have passed on."

"Whatever it is, something tells me we're in for a wild ride as he hits his teenage years," he said, rubbing his forehead. "C'mon, we should get back on the road," he said, joining Henry in the car.

"So how much further to Jacksonville?" Henry asked as his parents got in.

"Jacksonville?"

"Yeah, that's where we're going, right? Florida?"

"No," Emma replied, her brow furrowing. "Well yes but - right state, wrong city. We're headed to Tallahassee."

"Oh," Henry said. "Why there?"

His parents exchanged a glance before his mother continued. "It's kind of important to your dad and me. It's – well, I guess it's where we would have ended up if everything had worked out… back before you came along. Your Dad thought it might be good for us all to go."

"So I would have grown up there? I mean… if Dad hadn't left… and you guys went there… you would have kept me, right?"

Emma thought for a minute before answering. "That's hard to know, kid. I've asked myself the same question lots of times. I think the best answer I can give you is that we probably would have, yeah." She turned in her seat to face him before continuing. "Even if we had, though, there's no way to know how it would have all turned out. You would have been the most important thing to us – you have always been the most important thing – but your dad and I made a lot of bad decisions back then. We didn't have a lot—"

"Like Dad didn't have an apartment?"

"Right, like that. You know that when I gave you up, it was because it was your best chance. It's impossible to know how things might have been different if your dad hadn't had to leave. I don't know if we would have been your best chance." She sat silent, contemplating her next words for a moment before continuing. "The night I met your dad –"

"The night you stole his car?"

"It was after that, but yeah. That night, he talked about how you can't go back. I've thought a lot about that conversation over the years, but just recently have I understood what he meant by that. I don't know what would have happened in the past, but it kind of doesn't matter. If we'd kept you, you wouldn't have known Regina, you know, and would that really be better for you?"

Henry thought about this for a few moments, and Emma could practically see him turning it over in his mind. Neal took advantage of the silence to add his own thoughts. "Bud, what I've learned is that you can't dwell on the past. I was angry for a lot of years at my dad, for things he'd done, and I'm still working through some of that. But you know, if he hadn't done that stuff, I wouldn't know your mom. And we wouldn't have you. And I gotta tell you, a lot of what I went through is worth it, if it means having you guys. Your mom's not kidding when she says you're the most important thing. Whatever different path might have happened, that never would have changed."

Henry nodded pensively. "So Tallahassee, huh?"

"Yeah, kid. Tallahassee."

They drove late into the night, Neal back at the wheel and Emma and Henry both asleep. He found himself staring at his family as much as the road, grateful that the lack of traffic allowed for this distraction. After a few hours, Emma awoke and sent him a sleepy smile, taking him back to all of the nights he'd seen that tired smile shown his way in this very same car, a lifetime ago back in Portland. The memory was interrupted as Henry shuffled into a new position in the back seat, the noise of the extra passenger reminding him that they were light years away from those naïve kids. He watched her look back at their son, moving in his sleep to curl against the window, and marveled at the expression on her face. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more, watching her with Henry made him realize he was mistaken. She glanced up at him and he finally voiced a question he'd long wondered about.

"Did you ever want kids? I mean, before – before Henry."

"I hadn't thought about it, honestly. You?"

He fidgeted and looked down. "I guess I always figured that I'd have a couple. I mean, I just know – all of those years I was stuck in that cave in Neverland – I swore that if I ever had a son, I would never, ever let him feel like I did." He cast a glance in the rearview mirror at the sleeping boy in the back. "It's been so much more complicated in practice… it seemed like such an easy vow when I was perpetually fourteen." His eyes went back to his lap as his chin dropped. "I hate that he's had to lose me… more than once. I can't let that happen again."

"Hey," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's totally different. Totally different. You've never chosen anything over him – you've always been thinking of him. When you went through the portal, when we went to New York – it was to protect Henry, to give him his best shot. It's not the same as your father letting you go out of fear. Not even in the same ballpark. Henry's a smart kid. He knows you love him."

"I guess," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up with false confidence. "I would do anything for that kid. I just need for him to know that."

"He does. I promise, he does."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before he went back to his original question. "You'd really never thought about whether you wanted kids? Not as a little girl, not –" his voice grew almost whisper-quiet, "-not when we talked about Tallahassee?"

Her brow furrowed in thought. "When you don't know where you're going next – when you live the life I lived, moving place to place first in the foster system and then with you in Portland – it's hard to think of anything beyond that. Kind of impossible to think about adding someone else's life when you can hardly sustain your own. So no, I can honestly say I'd never considered it. I was just a kid myself when we met… and then there was Henry." She drew in a breath, choosing her next words carefully. "And the day he was born, once they took him away, I knew – I knew he'd be my only child, always. I couldn't be his mother, and if I couldn't be his mother, I couldn't be anyone's mother." She drew her knees up into the seat subconsciously as she curled against the door, and his heart broke all over again as he glanced over at her.

"I'm sorry…" he said on an exhale, almost involuntarily. Those words sounded so hollow, and he'd said them so often. He couldn't believe he'd found yet another thing he'd taken away from her – not just Henry, but the desire to have any children at all.

She smiled gently in forgiveness, as if reading his thoughts. "I'm not sure it would have made a difference, the next ten years – there was no place in my life for children. I'd see moms at the grocery or whatever, I wasn't glad not to be them, but I wasn't sad not to be them, either. It just… wasn't me. I wasn't made to be anyone's mom, it wasn't who I was. I was a single, on-the-go career girl with no room in my life for that. Until Henry showed up," her smile brightened at the memory. "I didn't want to be his mom, then, either, but spending time with him in Storybrooke, it just sort of… happened."

"You're wrong, you know. You're amazing with him."

"You didn't see me when I first got to town," she said with a bittersweet smile. "I think having the year in New York helped, just me and him, like I'd done everything from the beginning. But at home… it's harder, a lot more complicated. Trying to balance everything with Regina, with you – I'm still trying to figure it all out."

"I guess it would be easier to do it from the start," he mused, "instead of jumping in halfway through. But either way, you're a great mom to him, Emma." They sat in silence for a moment, lost in their thoughts, until he continued with more pressing matters. "Hey, there's our exit. Do you have the directions to the house?"

"It's cute," he said as they pulled up.

"It's small," she said in reply. "There weren't many rentals to choose from when I booked... apparently most people schedule their summer vacations more than a couple of weeks out," she said with a wry laugh. "The listing said it sleeps three," she finished, uncertainty evident in her voice.

"It's fine, Em, how much space do we need?" he replied, gesturing to the car around them.

"True," she conceded. "Key's in a lockbox on the door. I'll go get it if you want to get Henry's stuff?"

"We're here?" came a groggy voice from the backseat.

"Yeah, kid. What do you think?"

"Looks cozy," he replied. "That's a word that adults use to be nice when they really mean small, right?"

"C'mon," his dad said with a laugh, "Let's get you inside, buddy."

The trio entered, easily finding their way to the bedrooms and bathroom at the end of the hall. The small room on the right had a twin bed tucked into the corner, just enough space at the foot to tuck a suitcase, and a small dresser under the window. Across the hall was the second bedroom, a bit larger than the first, but dwarfed by the king-sized bed in the center. The rooms were clearly intended as sleeping spaces only, but the comfortable-looking living room that they had passed through on their way to the back of the house made up for the leisure space the bedrooms lacked. After all, Neal was right - how much space did the three of them need?

Henry crawled into the small bed without so much as changing into pajamas, and he was fast asleep before his parents had finished unloading the car. Emma walked into the master and dropped her bag at the foot of the bed, then turned to look at Neal as he followed her into the room. "Sleeps three," she started. "Didn't even think about the fact that it might not mean three beds."

"It's cool," Neal replied. "The couch looks really comfortable."

"Are you sure?" Emma said hesitantly. "We can move Henry in here and he could share with one of us, or..."

"Nah, it's fine. Kid deserves some space of his own. I've slept far worse places than a couch."

"If you're sure..." Emma said apologetically. "You can leave your bag in here, no need to clutter up the living room."

He nodded. "Sounds good."

She tossed her bag on the corner of the bed and began to dig out nightclothes. Neal mirrored this action, coming up with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, then stepping back out the door. By the time he'd returned from changing in the bathroom, Emma had located an extra blanket in the closet and handed it over to him.

"Night, Emma," he said as he headed for the living room.

"Night," came the reply.