Happy Mother's Day to all mothers of any form.
In addition to Henry's backpack that Friday afternoon, Miss Holly hands Regina's a gift bag in a sickingly shade of light pink trimmed with a fuchsia bow and white tissue paper. Regina's hands go over the paper, ready to pull it off, when Henry pounces onto her leg.
"Mommy, no!" His big hazel eyes blink up at her adorably. "You need to wait until Sunday. It's Mommy's Day."
Regina glances over at Miss Holly, who simply shrugs. "Completely up to you, Madam Mayor, but Henry was very excited to make this for you."
Regina's never received a Mother's Day present before, not really. The whole holiday is still a fairly odd concept to her, even after living in this land for 22 years. She can't imagine how horrid Cora would've acted on this day. Any gift Regina gave her for Advent or her birthday had never been good enough, there was always something to criticize. A day to celebrate mothers? Regina would've hated forcing herself to find something perfect, only to have it thrown back in her face.
The first May after she adopted Henry, her secretary gave her a bouquet of pink carnations and a card. Regina held them out as if they were a bomb and Jackie gave her a shy, hopeful smile.
"Happy Mother's Day, Madam Mayor."
That Sunday, Henry had an ear infection. Regina spent the day alternating between rocking him, giving him a cool bath to keep the temperature down and opening a bottle of wine she bought for herself. The next couple of years was more of the same, even when Henry was well. Just another Sunday for the two of them. She never wanted him to feel like he had to celebrate the day.
Now, he's 4 years old and started pre-school this year. Dozens of crafts crowd every surface of their home from cotton ball snowmen and fingerprint turkeys to pipe cleaner flowers. She assumes this'll be another one of those.
Regina respects her son's wishes and doesn't open the bag, leaving it on the entryway table. She awakes Sunday morning to her door being pushed open. Regina strains her eyes to look at her alarm clock. 6:04 AM.
"Henry," she yawns. "It's too early. Go back to sleep."
"Happy Mommy's Day!"
Regina reluctantly sits up and flicks on her bedside lamp. She pulls her blankets up a bit to cover the arms her nightgown left bare. It's spring and mornings are still freezing. She looks over at her son, a tray in his hands. Cheerios spill from a green ceramic bowl overflowing with chocolate milk. A whole apple rolls around the tray while orange juice spills from a tipped over glass. Behind her son, Regina sees the trail of his homemade breakfast.
And yet a smile falls across her lips.
"Is this for me?" Regina asks and Henry nods.
"Breakfast in bed, Mommy."
She takes the tray from him and scoops a bite of the cereal with his Scooby Doo spoon. Ignoring the gross taste of the warm taste of the Nesquik milk he uncovered from the cabinets, Regina pulls him up onto the bed and showers his face with kisses. Henry's loud, adorable giggle escapes from his lips.
"Thank you, my little prince. I love it."
Henry snuggles beneath her arm. "You really love it?"
"I do. And I'm gonna eat all of it. Why don't you go get dressed and I'll make you some pancakes?"
"I can make my breakfast."
Regina doesn't even want to think of the state of her kitchen right now. "I'm sure you can, darling, but Mommy wants to make it. It's my day, which means I decide what we do. You can wear whatever you want and I'll make your favorite."
"Okay!"
Henry scrambles out of the room. Regina eats the apple and then forces herself out of bed. Throwing on her robe, she heads downstairs and cleans the mess along the way. The kitchen is a disaster. Dry cereal is spilt in just about every direction. Two empty bottles of Nesquik sit in the sink. Her fruit bowl is knocked over, bananas bruised on the floor. She quickly tidies it up and makes herself a large pot of coffee. She's going to need it.
The pancakes are sizzling in the griddle when Henry comes running in, wearing a Spiderman t-shirt and a pair of polka dot swim shorts. She doesn't have the energy to question it and presses a kiss to his cheek, telling him how delicious the cereal was. The evidence is hidden gracefully in the trash outside.
After he devours his breakfast, Henry skips into the hall and returns with the pink bag monstrosity. A playful smile creeps up on Regina's face.
"Oh, I can open it now?"
Henry nods happily. "Yes, it's for you! Miss Holly wrapped it, but I made it!"
Regina can't help but feel excited as she removes the tissue paper and lifts out the object wrapped in newsprint. She carefully unwraps it, planning to save it for Henry's baby book. Once it's neatly piled on the counter, she gets a good look at it.
A giant piece of white clay, painted unevenly in red. The center has a tiny handprint that matches the rest of the piece. Beneath in sloppy writing "For Mommy".
Tears prick Regina's eyes. "Is this your handprint, my little prince?" Henry nods. She places it onto the counter and kneels before him, touching his chin.
"Do you like it?"
"I love it," she tells him earnestly. "It's the best gift I've ever received."
He throws his arms around her neck and she squeezes him tighter, allowing the tears to fall. Regina presses a kiss to his head, inhaling the sweet smell of his shampoo.
"I love you, Henry," she whispers.
"I love you too, Mommy."
The handprint will stay in her room for the next six years. It's something she looks at every time he utters the words "You're not my mother". A reminder that at one point…he did love her.