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Chapter 37:
Emma froze, her fingers still outstretched toward the brunette next to her, while Cora Mills stalked toward them.
"Regina," the older woman snapped, "the children tire of the pool. Why have you not yet started with Henry's presents?"
Her narrow gaze traveled the short space between her daughter and the blonde cowering next to her.
"What exactly," she asked, her tone like the lick of a whip, "are the two of you doing in here?"
"M-my swimsuit ripped," Emma lied. "Regina came to help me fix it."
The full force of the woman who wore rows of sea foam green pearls descended upon her, and the blonde's voice shriveled up in her throat.
"Wearing such flimsy and inappropriate attire to a child's birthday party was no doubt not one of your brightest decisions. Though…" Cora paused and wrinkled her nose. "I can hardly seem to remember a time when you have made a bright decision when it comes to my grandson or my daughter, or even your job, for that matter."
Emma flinched under the verbal assault.
"Mother, please," Regina said. "Let's not do this here, not at Henry's party. I will join you, and we can start unwrapping the gifts."
The brunette shot an apologetic look over her shoulder before ushering the older woman toward the pool.
"Oh, I should mention, there is to be a surprise," Cora said, jerking out of her daughter's hold. Her ominous tone sent shivers down Emma's spine. "And I just cannot wait to see the expression on both your faces."
With that, Regina's mother yanked her elbow out of her daughter's grasp and showed herself out of the changing room. She left the two women exchanging bewildered glances.
"I wonder what that's all about," Emma said.
"Certainly nothing good," her lover replied. "I must go. Join us when you're ready, my dear."
It took several deep breaths before an already anxious Emma could follow the Mills women out of the locker room.
In the natatorium, with the children wrapped in towels, everyone formed a half-moon around Henry and his mountain of presents.
"What should I open next?" he asked the crowd.
A dozen shouts flooded the room, as Emma wormed her way through a group of parents.
"How about…" Henry waved his fingers like magic wands over the pile. "This one!"
His hand landed on the most unlikely of presents. Hers.
Next to the bright colored wrapping paper, glitter, and bows encasing the rest of the gifts, she'd gone with burlap and twine. At the time, it had seemed perfect for a boy his age, but as Cora Mills had put it, maybe she wasn't so bright when it came to these things.
A blush raced up her neck and across her cheeks.
"Who's it from, dear?" Regina asked him.
She wanted to duck. She wanted to run.
"It's from Emma, uh, I mean Miss Swan," he said, correcting himself when his mother gave him the side eye.
She saw him searching through the crowd for her face.
"Over here, kid," she said, giving a feeble wave of her hand.
He beamed, and she instantly felt better, if only for a moment.
"My goodness, what could possibly be in that? Leftover candy from the two-dollar movie theater?"
Cora Mills' snide remark echoed through the expansive room. While it earned a glare from her daughter and grandson, several titters from the crowd joined her hollow laugh.
"Now, darling, she's on a teacher's salary. We can't very well expect much form her," Henry Sr. replied with a pat on his wife's hand.
Whether his remark came to her defense or was a continuation of the mockery, Emma guessed her ears must be in flames, she felt so hot with humiliation and impotent rage.
"Well, don't just stand there, Henry, open it," Regina urged, placing protective palms on her son's shoulders.
With a nod, he ripped open the packaging, and the highlight of Emma's terrible day was seeing his jaw drop and then a radiant smile replace his surprise.
"It—it's a journal," he said.
He held up the distressed leather binding and fanned the creamy pages inside.
"It has a spot for a pen," he went on, reverently touching the leather loop that held a fountain pen engraved with his name on it.
"And." He flipped it over. "There's something written on the back."
"We can save the back for later," Emma said, her bravery back now that she'd seen his reaction. "And later, I'll show you how to add new pages when you fill all of those up."
"With my story?" he asked.
"With all your stories," she confirmed.
"Thank you, Emma. It's the best present ever."
He headed for her at full-speed, arms out for a chorine soaked hug. She caught him in her arms and held him close.
Over the top of his head, she savored the shock on Cora and Henry Sr.'s faces, especially the dramatic touch of Regina's mother clutching her heart.
Her eyes shifted to the brunette, and the gaze she received in return was so full of love that the rest of the party no longer mattered. She knew she would endure a hundred encounters with Cora if it meant the sweet ones with her lover and Henry.
"Okay, okay," she said, untangling him when the hug veered toward mom-sized in length. "I'm glad you like it."
"You made it, didn't you?" he asked.
"I did. It took me ages. But you deserved something really special for your thirteenth birthday," she replied. "Now, go on back up there and open the rest of those gifts before your friends decide to."
He all but bounced on his way back to the front of the table where he wiggled his magic fingers over the gifts once more.
Then, all of a sudden, he stopped, eyes drifting off toward the door to the natatorium.
"Mom," he asked. "Who's that?"
The crowd turned to follow his gaze.
By the entrance to the pool stood a darkly handsome man with a rakish smile and blue eyes that cut like diamonds. He wore Polo from head to toe, his pants creased sharp to draw blood, and his shirt starched to accent the crushing muscles in his chest.
In one hand, he held a lavish bouquet of orchids, and in the other, he dwarfed a small wrapped box that Emma guessed must be for Henry.
She hated to admit the way her body reacted to the sight of him, as a card-carrying lesbian. But he brought out that .01% of her that could more than just appreciate such a stunning male specimen.
She glanced at Regina for a clue as to who he might be, and she found the brunette's face drained of blood, her hands two clenched fists by her sides.
"Ah," Cora Mills exclaimed, "it seems my surprise has finally arrived. Robin, please join us. Everyone, this is Robin, from the Hood family. He's in dairy. Regina, why don't you go and greet our guest? After all, he's been dying to see you again."