A/N: Sorry for the delay! I ended up getting the flu that all my coworkers had (brutal), and the epilogue for my holiday story I had been determined to finish ended up becoming a massive, nearly 20k word 3-parter, so that took up a lot of time. But, I'm recovering and the epilogue has been posted on that fic, so I'm back! As promised, this is longer than the last mini-chapter. It was actually going to be twice this long, but I decided to split it in two since the second half I wrote this afternoon and haven't been able to fully edit it yet. I wanted to get something up for you guys anyway, and since each part was close to 3k words and could stand on its own, I liked dividing them. Plus, I know you love/hate my mini-cliffhangers, why not split the chapter in two so I can leave you with one? Enjoy ;)
I don't see Regina until nearly one o'clock the next day.
At first I think she's just been avoiding me all morning, and that we'll be back to square one and all awkward again. But when she meanders over to the picnic area to help herself to what's left over from the lunch spread, I'm no longer worried about her avoiding me. No, now I'm worried that she might be dying. (Okay, maybe that's a bit hyperbolic, but really, she looks like shit.)
"Regina? You okay?" I ask her as she walks past me, completely oblivious to my presence. Her hair clearly hasn't been brushed, her makeup from last night is smudged on her face, and she's wearing the same clothes as she had on last night. If I had to venture a guess, she never took them off. She looks like the walk of shame, except a lot less happy than anyone who has ever taken that well-known walk typically looks.
"Huh? Did you say something?" she looks at me, her eyes struggling to focus.
"Sit," I command, scooting over on the bench to make room for her. When she just stares at me in response, I reiterate: "Now."
She acquiesces, sets her plate down on the table hard enough for it to rattle and plops herself down ungracefully, completely contrary to the refined posture and poise she's always upheld in meetings at work. This weekend is a lesson in cognitive dissonance when it comes to this woman.
As she sits, she stares at her plate with a look of discomfort on her face. When she notices that I'm staring at her, she mumbles a quick "good morning," barely looking at me before returning her focus to her lunch. (Well, from the looks of things, I'm guessing for her it might be breakfast). She pokes the pasta salad with her fork before she contorts her lips, as though she doesn't know what it is.
"Regina," I say, legitimately growing concerned.
"What?" she deadpans, still staring at the plate.
"Are you stoned?" I ask, because it's the only thing that would remotely make sense. I've seen my fair share of people coming down from bad trips after rough nights out, and they had more of their faculties in place than Regina seems to this morning.
She shrugs. "No."
"Are you sure about that?" I ask incredulously. "Because you're looking at your plate as if you expect it to start talking to you."
She pushes the plate away from her and opts to drink her can of Diet Coke instead. "Just a bit hungover."
"A bit? Regina…"
"Okay, a lot."
"I've seen you drink way more than we did last night, and you've never been like this. What the hell?" Not only should she not be this hungover from the bottle of chardonnay we split and a beer each, but we also were back to our respective cabins before nine o'clock. Even if she had been hungover, she shouldn't still be this late in the day. There's something else going on.
"I had more when I got back," is all she offers.
I narrow my eyes. "How much more?"
"Just one of the airplane bottles of vodka I brought with me. Not much at all."
I still sense there's something else going on, because 50 milliliters of vodka shouldn't cause her to be this out of it. "And…?"
"And a benzo."
Bingo. There it is.
And shit, that's bad. I don't want to lecture her, because I know that won't help anything, but that's a dangerous combination. "Regina, what the fuck?" Okay, I can't help but lecture her a little bit. "What the hell were you thinking? That could kill you."
She rolls her eyes at me. "Oh, relax. Not the dose I took."
Her nonchalance is irritating me, because despite her attitude about it, this is a serious situation.
She must be able to read the abject horror on my face, because her demeanor changes instantly, as much as it can given that she is legitimately stoned and hungover. "Emma, seriously, it's fine. I've had some anxiety recently with work and my personal life, and sometimes it manifests as insomnia. My therapist gave me a prescription for Ativan to take when I have trouble sleeping. After spending 2 hours staring at that stupid ceiling fan of the log cabin, I took one. Normally I try not to take them on nights where I've had more than a drink or two, and usually I wait a little longer if I do. It's just amplifying my hangover a bit more than usual and messing with my stomach. But seriously, I'm fine. I just need some more caffeine and some more sleep, and it'll wear off."
I look at her skeptically, but say nothing more than "Okay," as I finish what's left of my lunch. We sit in silence for the duration of the meal, and I notice that at least now she's actually eating what she put on her plate. Maybe her drug-induced hangover is finally subsiding.
*.*.*
"Emma!" David shouts as he runs out of the garage of the main house.
"Yes?" I turn around, smiling innocently.
He holds up a set of keys, dangling them from his fingers as he briskly walks to catch up to me. "Care to explain to me what these are?"
"Uh, those are keys."
He rolls his eyes at me. "Yes, I know. I meant, care to explain why I just saw you sneaking out of my garage, and why these keys were on the hook second from the left instead of second from the right?"
Shit. I couldn't remember which hook I took them off of the night before, so I took a guess when I put them back. Apparently, I guessed wrong. "How should I know? They're yours."
"You're right, they are mine," he says. "And I always put them back in the correct spot," he says, attempting to scold me. But, his face reads more amused than angry. "And I know there are no other guests here who know the access code to the garage or about the existence of the yacht that these belong to," he says, jiggling the keys in front of my face.
I swat his hand away. "Have you asked your wife?" I raise an eyebrow, deciding to screw with him a little longer, even though I know I'm busted. After I had finished that awkward lunch with Regina, I snuck into the Nolans' garage to return the keys to the yacht I "borrowed" last night. I thought David was taking a group of kids out fishing on the lake this afternoon, so I would be in the clear. But, I guess they haven't left yet.
"I didn't have to, because right before I saw you sneaking out of the garage, Mary-Margaret discovered a bottle of her favorite wine is missing from our fridge." By this point, he can barely keep a straight face. "So, Emma, do I need to call the cops and report a case of petty larceny and grand theft watercraft?"
"I'll give you the petty larceny for the wine, but I didn't steal your yacht…it is still parked exactly where you left it," I smile.
"So, you really didn't take my boat?" He furrows his brows in confusion.
"No, I did not take your boat. It hasn't been out of the dock as far as I know," I answer honestly. He still looks confused, and I don't want him to burst a blood vessel thinking too hard. Sometimes I can't understand how someone smart enough to make it through veterinary school can be so dense. "I know better than to operate a vessel while drinking, David. I merely borrowed your boat's saloon and deck for a bit."
"Oh," he nods his head in understanding, before smirking. "And I imagine you probably weren't alone for this little adventure last night?"
I chuckle and can feel my cheeks heating up.
"Do I need to wash the sheets in the stateroom or call and have the leather upholstery cleaned?" He wrinkles his face at that thought. "If I do, you're paying for it."
"Don't be gross," I scoff. "And, no, you don't."
He laughs as he puts the keys in his pocket. "So, you and Regina?" he asks knowingly, but I shake my head.
"No, it's not like that with us," I say.
He must see some disappointment on my face, because he follows up with, "but you want it to be?"
"I…I don't know. Can we not talk about it? It's all very confusing right now," I sigh.
He cuts me a break and nods his head. "Of course."
I send him a grateful smile as I turn to walk back toward my cabin.
"…But, you owe Mary-Margaret $75 for that wine," he calls out after me.
"What?" I ask, spinning around. "Regina said it's a $60 bottle."
"Consider it your fine for the theft," he grins.
I narrow my eyes and flip him off before returning down the path into the woods, calling "Charge it to my tab," over my shoulder.
*.*.*
After spending a productive few hours writing in the afternoon, (I'm so close to having a finished draft I can taste it), I decide to head out for some more fresh air. It's around four in the afternoon, so I figure I'll spend a half hour taking a break, work a little more on the novel, and then take part in the big cookout tonight before returning to my cabin to get some more work done. It's the last night of the weekend, as tomorrow is Columbus Day and most of the visitors will be heading back home tomorrow afternoon so they can return to work and school on Tuesday. I think I'm the only one who will be staying past the extended weekend, although David and Mary-Margaret have become quite popular and have a handful of new visitors coming up later this week, so I won't be the only guest for long.
Instead of heading toward the main area like I usually do, instead I decide to head toward a park-like clearing on the edge of the property line, as I hear voices and laughing coming from that direction. I've spent the past three hours by myself, so it'll be nice to have a conversation with someone other than the characters in my book. As I approach the field, I see that David has fixed the volleyball net that had fallen down during a storm last month, and a few of the kids from the visiting families are eagerly playing. Their mothers are sitting along the sidelines of the makeshift volleyball court, and surprisingly, Regina is with them. I take a deep breath as I walk up to the group, asking them if they mind if I join.
"Not at all. Have a seat," one of the women says to me, motioning to the empty spot on the log she's sitting on, which happens to be on the other side of Regina.
"Thanks," I smile, catching Regina's eye and silently asking permission. She shrugs, so I sit down.
The women continue chatting with Regina, and I answer some of the small-talk questions they ask me. But otherwise, I pay more attention to the volleyball game than the women around me, as they seem to be talking about how to pick a good private high school in the city and topics that are completely irrelevant and of no interest to me. I also hear Victoria Belfry, one of the women say, "Oh, Regina, I was sorry to hear that you and Alderman Locksley split up." The woman is obnoxious and has more money than anyone could possibly ever need. Between Victoria and her husband, they seem to own half of Chicago. I don't even need to look at Regina to know that she had tensed up at the statement, but she handles it like a pro, muttering a thanks, but these things happen to the woman before changing the subject.
Eventually their conversation dies down, and it's time to head back to the main house for the cookout. "Regina, would you like to join our family for dinner?" Victoria asks as we stand up. She walks right past me without even looking in my direction. Clearly, I'm beneath her.
I watch as Regina considers the offer, and I recognize her expression immediately — it's one I often saw when she was trying to come up with a way to politely disagree with one of the other executives at Enchanted Education. There was a lot of male fragility among the senior staff there, and most couldn't handle being bested by a woman. Regina had somehow figured out a way to insult them without letting them realize that she had. She's brilliant. And now, I can tell Regina is trying to find a way out of it, but she doesn't want to insult the wealthy socialite. Surprisingly, she seems to be drawing a blank, so I offer her an out. "Actually, Regina, don't forget that Mary-Margaret wanted you to join us for dinner tonight so she could pick your brain."
"Oh, that's right," Regina says, exhaling and playing along. "I almost forgot."
Victoria is skeptical, as she's clearly not the kind of woman who is used to having someone turn down her offers. "What could a B&B owner possibly need from a high-powered career woman like Ms. Mills-Locksley?" the bitch asks me.
"Actually, it's just Mills now," Regina corrects.
"Really? You're going to drop your husband's name?" Victoria asks, astonished. "But he's so well-known."
"Yes, he is. And most recently, he's well known for being a philanderer. I don't really need that constant reminder everywhere I go," she says.
"Interesting," is all that Victoria says. She continues to look at us, expecting an answer to her other question.
"Mary-Margaret wanted to run a marketing idea for the B&B by Regina," I offer. It seems plausible, since Regina runs one of the sales divisions of a successful company.
"Hmm," Victoria purses her lips, studying us before turning around, the squad of mothers she's acquired as her flock for the weekend following her as she heads back to camp.
"Thank you for that," Regina whispers to me as we slowly walk behind them.
"No problem," I laugh, taking my phone out of my back pocket.
"What are you doing? I thought you unplugged the entire time you're here?" Regina asks, nodding to the device in my hands.
"Oh, I did. I am. I disabled all the social media and shit on here. But I'm not stupid, Regina. I'm still a young single female spending a lot of time alone in the woods. I keep it with me for emergencies."
"Ah, smart," she says. "And what's this emergency?"
"I'm texting Mary-Margaret to let her know that she needs to eat with us tonight. Even though there's less than 24 hours left before everyone parts ways, I have a feeling we don't want to get on that bitch's bad side."
"No, we definitely do not," Regina laughs as we walk back. "Emma…" she starts when I put my phone back in my pocket.
"Hmm?"
"Now that I've sobered up after this morning," she sadly chuckles, "I think we should talk about last night…"
"We already did, last night on my porch. Or do you not remember that?" I ask.
She rolls her eyes. "No, I remember that. But there's still something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Now?" I ask her, surprised. We're only 20 feet away from the cookout, and this is really not a conversation to be had in front of Mary-Margaret. Frankly, it's a conversation I would prefer to avoid all together.
She shakes her head. "No, not now…later. I'm not planning on attending the event they have planned after dinner tonight, so I was thinking I might just watch a movie. If you want to stop my cabin for a bit, you're welcome to. Or, if you're going to the Capture the Flag tournament thing, I can stop by and we can find some time to talk."
"Oh," I say, slowing down my pace as we approach the line to get our food. "Um, sure. I was planning on spending most of the night writing, so I can drop by." I hope I don't regret this. I almost suggest that she should come to my cabin instead, but I like the idea of being able to leave if it gets awkward again, so I agree to it. "What time?"
"I don't know…maybe an hour after dinner? I'd like to shower off the nature walk I had this afternoon, and that'll give me time to check on a few work things. As much as I would have loved to unplug this weekend, I can't completely."
"Okay," I say as I nod my head and take a plate, loading it up with macaroni and cheese. I can't help but wonder what I'm getting myself into.
A/N: Up next: Emma visits Regina's cabin and they have a heart-to-heart. The next chapter will be up by the weekend, since it's already written and just needs editing. For anyone following A New Exploration, I know it's been 3+ weeks since I've updated, and I'll be working on the next chapter for that this week as well and will post it as soon as it's ready.
Also, I'm sad about OUAT being cancelled, but I'm not all that surprised, and truthfully I think it was time. (And maybe this is too soon, but I really hope this frees up Lana to do that Swingtown musical movie thing she mentioned at a con. Or maybe Netflix will revive Swingtown. I would kill for that). I have every intention to continue writing and reading things in the fandom, so I hope you all will, too. We can keep these characters alive :)
Thanks for reading!