"You can't be serious." Regina muttered as she sipped her herbal tea, pretending it was coffee, her craving for the drink running rampant during this pregnancy. She was sitting on the bed in the guest bedroom of her father's house. Her mother had left him years ago, freeing him up to officially open his heart to his daughter, and now that she too was going through divorce, his home.
Daniel was fast asleep behind her, sharing her bed every night since the move, it was barely 5am and the house was quiet. The sun wasn't quite ready to rise, but the faintest light of morning came from the east, easing away the darkness of night as Regina read and re-read the email that had woken her about twenty minutes earlier.
Shivering a little, she made sure the covers were properly covering her youngest son and manoeuvred her way out through all their boxes stacked in their room. She stooped to take her robe off the door, and put it on, warming herself from the chill of the morning. She carried her tea mug to the kitchen and put it in the sink, still deep in thought. She went next into the living room, where Damon and Henry were asleep on the couches, the older boy snoring softly, and just sat and watched them for a while.
Eventually she returned to the kitchen and began cooking breakfast. "What kind of name is Robin Hood? Is this a joke?" She wondered aloud as she whisked eggs and milk together in a bowl.
The email that was troubling her was from the donor whom she'd released her details to only weeks earlier. It was a very professional email, polite, basically he had apologized for inflicting inconvenience on her and her children's lives and then asked if she would agree to meet him.
What had thrown her was his name, signed at the end with his business information. Robin Hood. Like the famous outlaw from bedtime stories. She wondered if it was some kind of sick joke, or if it was entirely possible for someone to have that name. Either way she couldn't help but notice that he was the CEO of a wooden furniture business, which could be considered ironic if one was familiar with the story of Robin Hood.
She still hadn't told anyone about the phone call, and though she longed to curl up in bed with Emma and talk through her worries, she was alone now and alone she would deal with this.