January 3rd, 1989
Fostering had been Mary Margaret's idea. Something she would remember when things went wrong. But in the meantime, she and David had thought of the many ways to expand their family. For as long as she could remember, they had been trying to have a baby but nothing worked. They had debated IVF but it was so expensive. They were a sheriff and school teacher. One round of that could pay for renovations on their home, to qualify them to be able to adopt. Domestic and international adoption had been something else they had looked into but for some reason that didn't call to them.
Mary Margaret was a teacher. She worked with older kids and knew the importance of shaping their minds. She realized that maybe they didn't need a baby. Maybe instead, they could help a child that had already been through the system, that needed a second chance. David had agreed to it quicker than Mary Margaret had expected. So, they went through the paperwork and got the home study done.
Their first placement had been a 11-year-old boy named August. He was only with them for 3 weeks and didn't spend a lot of time in their home. Despite Mary Margaret and David doing everything they could to bond with the pre-teen, he wanted to spend most of his time exploring. They tried to be patient, not wanting to be too overbearing. There was never that connection, though. No matter how hard they tried, August just didn't want to get to know them. And after those 3 weeks, he told his social worker that he didn't want to be with them anymore. It hurt the day August left, but they wanted whatever was best for him. If they weren't it, than they had to respect that.
They waited six months for their next placement. Sure, they'd get several calls for kids that needed homes and they said "yes" each time. Sibling groups that the system didn't want to split up would work out great in their four-bedroom home. The teenager needing just a weekend placement was something they were interested in. There had even been a call for a 3-day old baby that David had rushed out to get a bassinet for, only to get a call a bit later that they didn't need them to take her in anymore. Foster children needed placements, but Mary Margaret and David weren't getting any.
Then one day, they got the call. A 5-year-old little girl by the name of Emma Smith. She had been in the system since birth, having been with one family until age 3. It wasn't exactly known what happened but they couldn't care for her any longer. She had been in and out of group homes since then, trying to find her a new family but nothing stuck. The social worker hoped that Mary Margaret and David could be it.
They redecorated one of the spare rooms in the course of a night. The yellow room got hints of white. Mary Margaret purchased new bright yellow bedding after hearing it was Emma's favorite color. David had purchased a few new stuffed animals, placing them throughout the room. Their hands grasped through one another, smiling.
"Do you think she'll like it?" Mary Margaret asked.
David nodded. "Even if she doesn't, we could always change it."
"It just sounds like she's been through so much in those short five years."
"Well, hopefully this is the end of the line for her."
"There's no reason why there shouldn't be. According to Helen, she was abandoned on the side of the road when she was an infant." Mary Margaret frowned. "I can't imagine what someone would have to go through, in order to do that."
The following morning, there was a knock on their door. Helen stood on the doorstep, a small 5-year old standing beside her. She had a mass of wild blonde curls with big green eyes. She wore a beat-up jean jacket over a black and white striped shirt. Her jeans had a few holes in them and her shoes had definitely seen better days. It was January, in Maine. David wondered where this little girl's winter coat was. The only possession she seemed to have was a red backpack which was swung over her shoulder.
"Come in, come in," he said instantly, stepping to the side. Helen lead the little girl inside and he shut the door. "I'm David, and this is my wife, Mary Margaret."
"David, Mary Margaret," Helen said. "This is Emma."
Mary Margaret was staring at Emma, almost as if she was looking at a ghost. David took in the little girl some more, trying to figure out where he had seen her before. She did indeed look a bit familiar. Maybe she just had one of those faces.
"Emma," Helen continued. "Say hello."
Emma's pouty lips didn't move up into a smile. "Hi," she mumbled.
"We're so happy you're here, Emma," Mary Margaret said, cheerily. "We've got your room all set up."
"How many other kids are in it?"
"None. You're our only foster kid at the moment."
Emma tilted her head. "Really?"
"Yup."
"Are you hungry?" David asked. "We were waiting to have lunch with you."
Emma looked a bit skeptical but nodded. The four of them walked into the kitchen. Emma sat at the table while Mary Margaret and David filled out the paperwork that Helen had brought.
"Emma is probably going to be a bit easier than your last case," Helen said. "But she's still a challenge."
David looked over his shoulder. Emma was sitting right there and Helen was saying all of this. "It's nothing we can't handle."
"Just know you have my number and you can call me at any time."
"That's it?" Mary Margaret asked. Helen had stayed a bit longer when she dropped August off. "You don't want to see her new room or anything?"
"You've been approved, I trust it's up to code." Helen walked over to Emma and knelt down to her height. "I'm going to head off now. I'll be in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Nolan over the next few weeks. Please try here, Emma."
Emma didn't say anything, she just nodded. Helen sighed and gave her shoulder a squeeze. David walked her out and watched her drive away before heading back into the kitchen. Emma sat there, kicking her tiny legs and staring into space. The two adults shared a look, unsure of what to do at first. Finally, David swooped into the seat next to Emma.
"So, what's your favorite food?" He asked. Emma didn't say anything. "Mine is stew."
Emma looked up at that, wrinkling her nose. "Stew?"
"My mom had a good recipe for it."
"I like chicken noodle soup, but it's not my favorite."
"Well what is your favorite?" Emma bit her lip. "Emma, it's okay to ask for something. If we don't have it, we can go to the diner and have lunch there."
"Really?"
"Yeah. So, tell me, if you could have anything to eat for lunch right now, what would you pick"
Emma pondered his question for a few minutes before speaking. "Grilled cheese."
David grinned. "Well as luck would have it, we have cheese, we have bread and we have a stove. I think I could accommodate that."
Emma's pout slowly rose to a bit of a smile. David got up from the table and started searching for the ingredients. Mary Margaret reached over to stroke his back and whisper "Thank you".
October 24th, 2011
Emma was ready to leave this damn town. How had it not stuck out to her when Henry mentioned it? Storybrooke, of course. Emma had lived in a lot of places throughout her life, but this had been the strangest name. It had been one of the few places she lived in Maine before she had been moved to a home in Boston. In fact, the Nolans had been her last home in Maine.
She could hear the flurry of ballet flats behind her as she stormed down the hall. "Emma! Emma, wait!"
"I'm walking away, you should recognize the gesture."
"Please, you have to just listen to me. We need to talk!"
"I don't owe you anything." And yet, she found herself stopping and flinging herself around. "This makes no sense! You don't look a day older, that was like 20 years ago!"
"I…I don't know. Things in this town…they're weird."
"You could say that." Emma folded her arms over her chest. "Why the hell did you give Henry your credit card?"
"I didn't! He must have stolen it." She sighed. "He's such a clever little boy. What I don't understand is why he went to find you."
"I'm his biological mother."
Mary Margaret's doe eyes softened even more. "You had a baby."
"Yes, I had a child and I gave him up for adoption because I didn't know how to be a mother. Maybe because the only examples in my life have only let me down."
Mary Margaret looked like she had been smacked. "Emma, there's so many things that I've wanted to tell you, so many things that I've wanted to say." She reached out to touch her cheek. "Look at you, you're all grown up."
Emma pushed her hand away. "No! Don't touch me!" She shook her head. "This is insane. You being so young, you pretending that you actually give a shit."
"I always cared about you."
"Bullshit! You let me go!"
"I didn't have a choice! They took you away from us! We tried to fight but…"
"No, what I remember is you two promising me forever and then me being hauled off in the back of Helen's station wagon."
"It was way more complicated than that, sweets. You have to believe me."
Sweets. That nickname burned a hole into her heart. It was exactly what Mary Margaret had called her when she was 5 years old. There had been a ton of nicknames. They made her feel loved, secured.
Now they just made her blood boil.
"Do you know where Henry is or not?"
"Emma…"
"This is all I care about right now. I want to find this kid, bring him back to his mom and get the hell out of this town before I lose my mind."
Mary Margaret sighed. "Try his castle."
David couldn't remember why he wanted to be a sheriff. Some days, it seemed like a dream job. Others, he wished he could do something outside, in the open fields. He found himself driving past the abandoned farm that he and Mary Margaret had once talked about buying when he retired. If they hadn't wanted kids, he would've bough it outright. For the sake of their family, he became a cop. He raised through the ranks and became sheriff.
Now, the station was pretty much his home. He paid rent on a house but he was only ever there to sleep. Once the man that cooked grand meals for his wife and foster daughter, now he got takeout from Granny's or the Chinese place. Cooking for one wasn't as fun. Occasionally he made baked goods for the department but he barely had the time anymore. Graham said he was a workaholic but it wasn't like he had anything else going for him.
Speak of the devil, his deputy walked in front of his desk. "David, Mary Margaret's here."
He almost barked at his longtime friend not to make jokes but then he smelt his ex's perfume. The mix of flowers was so intoxicating and reminded him why he avoided her in the first place. Every time David stepped within five feet of her he was reminded of one simple truth: he had never stopped loving her.
David got up from his desk and turned around, finding himself face to face with her. Mary Margaret was beautiful. Dark hair that complimented her pale skin and rosy cheeks. Her green eyes always popped up her subtle makeup. She typically dressed in cardigans and pleated skirts, and that day was no exception. The cardigan still hugged her curves and he was reminded of every time she had been in his arms…
But that was simply in the past.
They had been divorced for longer than he could remember. One minute, they had been blissfully married with a child they intended on adopting. The next, he was signing paperwork with a bottle of scotch beside him.
There was a lot of David's past that he couldn't remember, but the fighting was clear. Mary Margaret screaming at him for the smallest things. David sitting in his truck because for the life of him, he just didn't want to come home. The day they sold that beautiful house that they had renovated and built love in together.
Why were those things so vibrant, while the good times so buried?
"What are you doing here?"
He doesn't mean it to be harsh, but they both know that they avoid each other like the plague. They take turns going to Granny's and the different stores. She rented a loft on Main Street while he had a house more in the suburbs. Two people that were once teased for being inseparable, now went out of their way to make sure they never saw one another.
"She's come home, David," Mary Margaret whispered.
David tilted his head. "Huh?"
"Emma. She's come back to Storybrooke."
David didn't believe her. Not at first. Mary Margaret wouldn't lie, but there was a period when every little girl with blonde hair had been Emma. "That's impossible."
"It's not. She's here…she's grown up…"
"Grown up?"
"Mid to late 20s, I think."
Had they been separated that long? Had time flown by without him knowing it?
"This makes no sense," David said.
"I don't know how it's possible, but she's here, David. She's Henry's biological mother."
The mayor's son. It was an unhidden secret that the young boy was adopted. Regina had never been married and she had just returned to town one day with a tiny baby boy. David saw them around town together over the years. He was probably the only thing that humanized the mayor.
And he was the son of his former foster daughter.
"This can't be real," he whispered. "She was gone for good."
"That's what I thought too but I saw her today. She came into my classroom with Regina looking for Henry. I guess he went looking for her and there's been a lot of drama."
"You saw her?" David's heartbeat quickened. "Is she…"
"She seems healthy, but she was angry when she saw me. I think she's going to try to leave town the first chance she gets."
Mary Margaret took a step forward.
"I know a lot has changed between us David, but the one thing we still have in common is that we love her." She bit her lip. "You have to help me keep her here. I can't lose her again."
David thought of the little girl he gave piggy back rides to. The one he watched football games with and played tea parties. The little girl that called him "Daddy" and lit up his heart.
She was back and he had probably almost seen her a dozen times. He couldn't miss out on that again.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
