Me and my stupid pride are sitting here alone
Going through the photographs, staring at the phone
I keep going back over things we both said
And I remember the slamming door and all the things that I misread-Taylor Swift
January 6th, 1989
Emma had been quiet ever since she moved in with them. Mary Margaret did everything she could to open the little girl up but it had been a challenge. She had it expected it. August barely said two words to them after he arrived in Storybrooke. Even so, Mary Margaret knew this could be a longer placement and she wanted to get Emma acclimated as much as possible. A few days after Emma arrived, Mary Margaret decided to take her shopping.
"I have lots of stuff back at the house," Emma said as they walked into the only office supply store in town.
"You do, but I got a list from your new teacher," Mary Margaret explained. "School starts again on Monday, so you'll need some stuff I didn't want to get you until we met."
"Like what?"
"Like a backpack."
"I have one already."
Mary Margaret didn't want to point out that Emma's backpack was falling apart. It could barely hold the beautiful baby blanket that was inside of it along with the one other outfit that she had from her previous home. Instead, she steered Emma over to the section where they were lined up on the wall.
"Well, I want to treat you to a new one." Mary Margaret gestured to the selections. "You can pick any one you want and a lunchbox."
Emma tilted her head and Mary Margaret had to stop herself from smiling too wide. "A lunchbox? Normally I get free lunch at school."
"Well, you could get lunch from the cafeteria or you could have yummy stuff that David makes you."
Emma seemed as though she was debating it for a bit. "David's food is yummy."
"It is, huh?" Mary Margaret held out a pink one for Emma to inspect, which got a wrinkled nose. "No pink?"
"I like yellow…and red."
"Well, I'm sure we could find one of those."
She and Emma looked down the section, with Mary Margaret offering different ones to her. None really seemed to catch the little girl's eye. Mary Margaret reached to grab some ice packs for the lunchbox when she saw Emma examining a denim backpack. It would be big enough for all her stuff and was quite stylish, if Mary Margaret was being honest.
"That one, sweets?" Emma looked up and nodded. Mary Margaret smiled. "I like it too." She took it off the shelf and put it in the cart. "Now for the lunchbox."
Emma found a Rainbow Brite lunchbox she liked. It was bright yellow and had the characters on the front. Alongside of it was a matching thermos, which would be perfect for soups or pastas that David liked to make. Next, they went to look at the supplies. Mrs. Anderson had requested a huge box of crayons, some glue sticks and scissors. Emma looked nervously at the list.
"I've never been to a new school before."
Mary Margaret set the list onto her purse and knelt down to her height. "It's a little scary, huh?" Emma nodded, her green eyes widening a bit. "Well, you know I'm a teacher, right?"
"Yeah, for bigger kids."
"4th grade. But, I happen to be friends with a lot of the teachers and I know Mrs. Anderson is very nice. She has a fun classroom with lots of toys. You even get to take a nap halfway through the day." Emma still didn't look convinced. "And if anything were to happen, you know you could always come find me."
"Really?"
"Pinky swear." Mary Margaret held out her pinky and waited for Emma to wrap hers around it. "The best part is, the kindergarteners get their very own playground, with a twisty slide."
Emma's eyes seemed to light up at that. "I've never seen one of those."
"Well then I'm sure Mrs. Anderson and the other kids will be happy to show it to you."
Emma suddenly flung her arms around Mary Margaret's torso. Mary Margaret nearly fell over, but caught herself before wrapping her arms around Emma.
"I'm glad my new foster mom is a teacher."
Mary Margaret stroked Emma's golden curls. "Well, I'm happy to have you as a foster daughter, Emma."
"Emma."
Mary Margaret stood up with Emma in her arms and turned to face the source of the voice. It was Mr. Gold. In one hand, he balanced a cane. In the other, was a basket filled with stationary and pens.
"Mr. Gold," Mary Margaret said, politely. She didn't know the man too well, outside the fact that he practically owned the whole town. Granny was always complaining about how high he made the rent. It was partially why she and David had bought, instead of rented. He also owned an antique store on Main Street, but she had never been inside. "How are you?"
"Quite fine, dearie." He looked over at Emma, who was clinging to her foster mother. "So, Emma."
"David and I are fostering," Mary Margaret explained. "This is our newest placement."
Mr. Gold nodded, though he didn't look thoroughly convinced. Why would he think she was lying about a thing like that? "Right." He blinked a few times, before a smile came across his face. "Well, have a lovely day, Mrs. Nolan and…Emma."
Mr. Gold walked away, the sound of his cane scraping against the tile floors. Emma clung a bit tighter to Mary Margaret.
"Who was that?"
"Mr. Gold, he owns a shop in town."
"Oh." Emma's eyebrows furrowed. "He kept staring at me. You're not supposed to stare."
"I know, sweets, but he means no harm." Mary Margaret rubbed her back. "Come on, we need to find you some new sneakers."
October 26th, 2011
Mary Margaret didn't have much from her time with her foster daughter. The possessions stayed in a box in the back of her closet. A few toys like the Cabbage Patch doll she had gotten for Valentine's Day or the stuffed lamb that David had selected for her. There was the sign that once hung in her room "You are my sunshine". Finally, she had Emma's old lunchbox. She wasn't sure why that was the one thing she kept. Maybe because it wasn't just a connection to Emma, but her ex-husband too. David would make both of their lunches every night before he went to bed. Normally, PB&J for Emma and some leftovers for Mary Margaret. Still, they were always appreciated.
At the bottom of the lunchbox was a post-it note that David had put in there, just as he did every day.
Hope you're having a good day, Emmy. Love, Daddy.
Daddy. Emma had started calling them by proper parental names just a few months into staying with them. They had no doubt that they would be able to adopt her. There was no reason why they shouldn't be able to. And then, it was all taken away because of a stupid mistake that she made.
She knew David had never forgiven her for it. Sure, he said he didn't blame her but Mary Margaret saw the look in his eyes the days after Emma left. The way he stopped touching her. He was the one that had called Helen and told her that they didn't want any more placements. Why would he have done all of that if he didn't blame her?
They had been divorced for such a long time and yet Mary Margaret could still remember everything about their divorce. Life before Emma's arrival and after she left was fuzzy, but that was clear as day. The silence turned to fighting, but even that dissipated. Before she knew it, she was going to Gold and asking him to draw up divorce papers. The man that had once given them such hope that they were going to be a family was making it clear that they never would be.
Neither stayed in the house. Instead, they sold it and split the profits. David started renting a house not far from where they once lived, while Mary Margaret moved to a loft in the center of town. It was small, perfect for a new divorcee. There was even the clawfoot tub that she had always dreamed of.
She still would've given anything to have him back.
The door to her loft opened and Mary Margaret looked up to find David standing there. After avoiding each other for years, Emma was the one thing to pull them back together.
"She talking to you yet?" he asked.
Mary Margaret shook her head. "I tried to visit her room at Granny's but she wouldn't open the door."
David threw himself onto the couch and let out a sigh. "I pictured this with her as a teenager, but not now."
Mary Margaret gently rolled her eyes. "Please, you would've been the favorite when she was 13. All teenage girls hate their moms."
"But their moms are the ones they go to when crap hits the fan."
She smiled, even though she didn't want to. "I guess that's true."
"Besides, I don't know if she ever had a favorite. We both gave her what she needed in our own ways."
Mary Margaret nodded. "I guess that's true."
David's eyes traveled to the box in front of her. He made his way down to the floor and lifted out the lamb, running his fingers through the dingy fur.
"I nearly forgot about this," he whispered.
"I didn't keep a lot after we moved, but this was just the stuff I couldn't part with."
"Yeah, I have her old sun pillow." He shrugged when Mary Margaret looked at him confused. "I keep it on my couch, a reminder of what could've been."
Mary Margaret nodded. "I go through my closet every week, I tell myself I'm reorganizing it, but I think it's just an excuse to look through all of this."
It's weird how easy they can communicate. Mary Margaret told herself it was for Emma. She was their weight to the world.
"You're punishing yourself," David said.
"I guess I took over for you."
David looked at her strangely. Mary Margaret closed the box and started to head back to her closet.
"Did you have a reason for coming over?" she asked.
David bit his lip. "I know we don't get along the way we used to Mary Margaret, but once upon a time, we did."
"A lot has changed since then."
"I know that. I was there."
And then you weren't. But she had asked him to leave, so could she really blame him for that?
David continued on, pulling himself up. The plush lamb was clutched tightly in his grip. "We want Emma to stay, there's no doubt about that. So maybe we can just try to put the past behind us. If she just sees us fighting, that's not going to remind her of the good times that this place brought her."
Mary Margaret set the box down onto her bed. "I guess that's true."
"So…truce? At least for Emma?"
He extended the lamb and she allowed her hand to go over it.
"Truce," she whispered. "For Emma."
Not much had changed in Storybrooke in the 23 years since Emma left. Granny's grilled cheese was no exception. The way she somehow managed to combine the three cheeses and perfectly toast the bread was a marvel. She hadn't been able to find one like it since she left all those years ago. The onion rings were huge and never left her hungry.
It was hard to find reasons to hate the town. As much as she wanted to only remember the bad times, ever since she ran into Mary Margaret it was nearly impossible. Memories of running around at the beach or the park. Getting ice cream after school with David. Sitting on Mary Margaret's desk while she graded papers and occasionally let Emma put unicorn stickers on the pages.
Why did she have to remember all of that? It was hard enough having to remember the bad, but remembering the good meant that there was something great and she was forced to leave it.
"Miss Swan."
Emma nearly dropped her sandwich at the sound of Mr. Gold's voice. She looked up in shock, but he just had that same steady smile on his face that he always had.
"Mr. Gold," Emma placed her sandwich down and took a swig of her root beer. "You trying to take 10 years off my life?"
He chuckled. "Just wanted to see how you were enjoying our town."
"It's…practically the same." She looked around the diner. "Weird how no one's aged."
"Oh, they have, just not in the ways you'd expect."
Emma cocked an eyebrow. She remembered being scared of this man when she was 5 years old. Now, he was more of a mystery.
"I heard you're staying with us for a bit."
"Just until I can get my car fixed. Then I'm out of here."
"I'm sure Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Nolan were sad to hear that."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Forgive me if I don't care about how they feel. They're the ones that gave me up."
"Life is more complicated than we normally think. Sometimes, parents have to let go and regret it."
"What would you know about it?"
Emma reached down to take a bite of her sandwich and when she looked up, she saw a haunted gaze over him.
"You don't know what I know."
She felt even more puzzled by that. "Pardon?"
Gold snapped out of it, returning to his no-nonsense stare. "Your parents didn't want to give you up."
"Foster parents," Emma corrected. "And they did."
"There are always three sides to the truth, Miss Swan. His, hers and the truth." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. "I happen to have the third."
"How…"
"You were quite young when all of that was going on, but let me remind you that I was their attorney. Everything that happened, went through me."
He placed the envelope on the table, making sure to be careful of her ketchup dipping bowl.
"If you don't believe them or me, believe the legal documents."
He reached down and stole an onion ring from her plate, popping it in his mouth.
"I've always preferred fries," he mused, walking away.
Emma stared at the envelope. It was thick, with her first name on it. She wasn't sure how much she could trust it. Mary Margaret and David could have paid him to falsify something. Then again, Mr. Gold didn't seem like the type.
Slowly, she picked it up and put it into her backpack. She'd read it. Not for them, but for herself. After 23 years, she deserved answers.
