Home for the Homeless Verse
Part 2: "It's nice to meet you"
His house is nothing like she pictured it would be. Not with the tailored suits, leather dress shoes and rolex watches he wears that exude expensive. It's big, there is no doubt about that. But where she expected hard lines, and chrome structured finishes to be adorning the place, it's, in all honesty, the exact opposite. It's soft, calm painted green walls with white crown moulding, beautiful hand scraped dark hardwood flooring that her heels click on as he leads her past his living room, furnished with comfy couches and a rather large TV entertainment system. It feels warm. Everything about his home is comforting, gentle, like him in an odd way.
Her eyes wander to a few black and white photos hanging on a wall, dark gun metal grey frames that house happy smiles of himself and a dark haired woman she assumes is his wife, though in the three years she's known him, she's never noticed a wedding ring. Not that it means anything, perhaps they are just people that don't wear rings? One photo has his arms wrapped around her shoulders, nose nuzzled into the woman's curls as she beams up at the camera. It's a gorgeous photo. They look like a picture perfect couple, Regina muses as she scans over to the next one and her heart stumbles at the big button brown eyes that sparkle amidst a deep dimpled grin, two front teeth missing and what she assumes is chocolate sauce smothered around his chubby cheeks. He's beautiful. Looks just like his mother, down to the soft olive skin tone, dark chestnut eyes and curly mop of hair.
"That would be your chef for this morning." Robin slides up beside Regina, smiling proudly at the photo of his son. "Who should be gracing us with his presence any time now." He eyes flick up the stairs as the sound of shuffling socks begins to scuffle down the steps.
Regina turns, and the photo does this little boy no justice. He is beyond adorable. To the point it actually makes her eyes flush with tears as he hangs onto the banister and taking two steps down the stairs, not quite tall enough to take them one by one just yet. She remembers Henry at this age. How he insisted that every time the door knocked, he be the one to answer it even if the guests on the other side had to wait a little longer until he could stumble his way down their steps with his tiny voice chiming out that he would be right there! He was so full of life, of adventure and joy right until the end. There wasn't a shy bone in his body. Which was probably more thanks to his father than Regina's natural caution towards others. From the moment Henry came into this world, Daniel was there beside him, protecting his boy who demanded he meet every single person he could.
"Papa! Papa catch me!" The little tyke stops at the third step, balancing on his superman socked feet before extending his arms out, ready to fly into the arms of Robin.
"Do you have your cape ready for flying?" Robin grins and squats down.
A red towel swings out behind the boy, as he proudly proclaims a happy, "You bet!"
"Okay, Roland, count it down!"
"Three! Two! One! Take off!" His little legs brace and push with all their tiny might as he flings himself out into Robin's chest as he catches him with ease and spins him around, the makeshift cape fluttering about before it lands on top of Robin's head. Regina chuckles, and Robin shakes his head about animatedly until the towel falls back down to its proper secured spot.
"Ready for breakfast?"
"Yup!"
Robin turns and Regina is caught staring at the pair like a deer in headlights, suddenly feeling a bit too intrusive on their little morning moment of play. She tugs at the hem of her blazer, something she'd been able to finally afford after her last paycheck. Thank god too. She swears the people she works with have begun to notice her rather limited attire. Two pairs of pants and three shirts to be exact. At least she has a skirt and a jacket now, thanks to the Women's Closet down the road from where she is staying, but it's not exactly like she can be picky about cotton or silk right now.
"Roland, I'd like you to meet someone." Robin swings around, son in tow, and nods in her direction with a smile, "This is my friend Regina."
"She's a girl, Papa!"
Regina grins at the young boy who stares up at her with wide astonished eyes. Perhaps Robin doesn't exactly entertain much female company what with a wife and all.
"And a very pretty one at that. Don't you agree, my boy?" Robin's dimples flash on full display as he sends a quick wink her way.
Well, that small compliment has Regina's cheeks flushing hotter than the sun for it's really the first time in years she's actually had someone say something like that about her. She's grown accustom over the past six years towards more grunts, sour stares and comments about how the "city needs to deal with the people like them." As if she didn't already feel less than a person could. It was always the ones who clearly had something to hide that would make such scathing statements. Those who cloaked themselves in uptight personas and designer clothing lest the outside world see what a crumbling insecure mess they were on the inside.
The life she led previous to sleeping on wet concrete rattling floors was filled with those types of people. Ones she found absolute pleasure in stripping away their facade piece by piece in a courtroom until the real truth reared it's ugly head. When the jewels and money aren't there to hide behind, people are all the same, just simply human beings driven by emotion.
"She is pretty, Papa."
"Thank you." Regina smiles, as Robin approaches with his son, "My name is Regina."
"This is my son Roland."
The boy coughs with a scowl into Robin's view before wildly skipping his eyes back and forth to Regina. It has Robin chuckling quietly before righting himself with a stern face as he faces her once more. "My apologies. Regina, this is Sir Captain Roland Locksley of Forest Fliers."
For a moment Regina is caught a bit off guard with the silly title, but a memory fades into her mind about a time when Henry had refused to answer to anything but Spiderboy, and Daniel being anointed as SpiderDaddy. Every Sunday they would wear nothing but matching red and blue pajamas with the black emblazoned spider on their chests, pretending to shoot webs at everything from morning orange juices to TV remotes and mommy snuggles. When Daniel died, Henry insisted that his dad wear his spiderman shirt to heaven so he could protect the angels. And when she'd buried Henry, he too went as a superhero in those pajamas, albeit underneath a suit her mother had picked out that looked absolutely ridiculous on her little boy. They are both up there, together, still playing web wars in her mind between the clouds and warm sun.
"Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Captain Roland."
"Do you like pancakes Regina?"
"I love them."
"So does Papa! He eats so many!"
"Hey now! You make me sound like a ravenous pig my boy."
"It's true and you know it!" Roland giggles as Robin tickles his tummy incessantly till his son begs for him to stop through breathless laughter. He sets his son down and grins up at Regina, a hand on his heart, the other high into the sky vowing ""I swear I am nothing but a gentleman at the table."
"Pancake Piggy!" Roland teases as his cape flies into the sky when his little legs take off and run him into the kitchen before Robin can catch him. Regina stifles her laugh with her hand, chuckling at the boldness wrapped up in such a tiny body.
"Well now that my son has effectively blown my cover, shall I get you that coffee?"
"Will there be any left after you pour yourself a cup?" Regina bites down on her lip lest her cheeky remark bust out into a full smile at the way Robin's eyes widen and his dimples deepen at her playful jab. He didn't really know what to expect her to be like, but what he is slowly finding out is much more intriguing than the quiet smiles she'd been passing him through gentle thank you's over the past three years. He likes it. Likes her.
Robin chuckles, leading Regina into the kitchen and her breath stalls as they walk through the archway. Where his home is cozy and quaint, the kitchen is the complete opposite. It's massive. Light grey oak cabinets from floor to ceiling, white granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and without a doubt the largest island she's ever seen. It's beautiful. Clean and crisps with metal detailed knobs and a lining of copper pots hanging from the light fixture above the island. It's her dream kitchen. Back when things weren't quite so dismal and bleak in her world, she used to spend hours in her own kitchen, elbow deep in sauces and dishes Henry created in his mind. That was their thing. Cooking together. Adding the most bizarre ingredients to a concoction to be fed to their guinea pig, and Daniel was nothing but a good sport. Eating with astounding enthusiasm down even with the strangest dishes set in front of him. Not once did he ever let Henry see the way his eyes watered when there was chocolate sauce added to pasta, or how much he hated mashed potatoes smothered in cheese and pickles. His plate was always licked clean and ready for more should his chefs have extra's.
She hasn't set foot in a kitchen in a long long time.
"My wife decorated this room. She always had a better eye for design than I did." Robin muses as he saddles up beside Roland, tying back a tiny apron with a cartoon chili pepper embroidered in sunglasses on the front. "It's stunning." Regina smiles, and takes a seat on the metal stool near the island.
"Regina! You have to put an apron on!" Roland clambers towards her, shoving a haphazardly folded yellow apron at her. "Papa says we can't get our clothes dirty because he doesn't know how to run the washing machine."
From across the kitchen Robin groans and ties on his own apron, a dark green and white checkered pattern that Regina can't help but admire the way the colors bring out the bright blue of his eyes. He really does have nice eyes. Chuckling, Regina kneels to the floor, turns to back to Roland and asks him to tie her up. It's a messy knot, but it will do. Standing she smoothes out the cotton sunny yellow fabric, admiring the tomato and pepper cartoons dancing on the front of it.
When she turns, it's to find Robin staring at her with a strange look in his eyes. A look she knows far too well. A sad memory of a lost love. And it clicks into her mind that she has seen the photo's of his wife, but has yet to meet the woman in person. Robin seems to notice the way Regina's shoulders sigh as she tries to smile at him. She too must know what it's like to have lost someone close to her heart.
"It was my wife's apron." He comments quietly over Roland's head, the boy buried deep into the bottom cupboards in search of a bowl for batter. "She passed away three years ago."
"I'm sorry."
Robin nods, bites down on his lip and sends her a half hearted grin. "Breast Cancer. The bitch." A bubble builds hot in Regina's throat, pressing heavy against her chest. Her life has been consumed by those with that fucking disease. It took her father. Her grandmother. Daniel's brother. And the most painful one it stole from her was her baby boy. Four years old and he was gone. He'd been sick for a two months before she and Daniel had taken Henry into the Children's Hospital after their GP had ordered some blood tests that hadn't come back pleasant.
The moment she walked through those hospital doors, her life changed forever and her son never left. For sixteen months, it became her new home. Sleeping on a pull out couch beside his tiny bed listening to the beeping of machines that kept his heart beating after surgeries and transfusions until one night it was just silent.
A hand squeezes her forearm, and her eyes blink back the tears that burn on her lashes, and just stares at the thumb that swipes up and down the black weaved coat on her arm. It's a heat she can't remember feeling since Daniel. A strange beat that passes between them when she finally musters up the gusto to look him in the eyes, tears be damned and the amount of soft gentle understanding that radiates from the blue is damn near knee buckling. And for all it's worth, he doesn't even say anything, just nods, smiles, and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to damper breakfast." She chokes out, sniffing hard because dammit he is still a stranger, and this isn't exactly the impression she wanted to make on him. Not that she had thought she'd be in his kitchen making breakfast with his son when she knocked on his door twenty minutes ago just to say thank you for the past three years. That was all this was supposed to be. Just a simple thank you and that's all. Just so he would know how much he truly did change her life. How she began to stow away a dollar at a time to slowly buy a new shirt. Or how seeing him walk through the subway station everyday in his crisp clean attire headed to a job made her want to actually get up off the mouldy wet concrete and for the first time in a year look at a newspaper's job listing section.
He did that.
Unbeknownst to him, but it's the reason she is standing here in his kitchen and not sleeping another night with mice and bugs. For whatever reason there is a tug towards this man. A need to want to show him she is more than just some homeless beggar. Perhaps it's that scolding disdainful voice of her mother who would be horrified if she knew about Regina's life the past three years. She just wants for whatever god damn reason for this man, for Robin to see her as a person who has her shit together (which is a lie, because she doesn't. At least not yet, but it's moving in the right direction.)
.
..
…
"I find that pancakes always make the heart feel better."
"And coffee?" She smiles, finally shaking away the last of her tears.
"Most certainly M'lady." He squeezes her forearm once more and lets her breath for a quiet moment alone as she takes up residence back on her stool, watching as Roland pours a heap of chocolate chips into a bowl, though she would venture more ended up in his mouth that is smeared with chocolate than in the actual bowl.
It's all stirring and splatter for a while after that. Regina sipping her coffee as she cracks two eggs for Roland and he plunges the spatula back into the concoction with vigor, smacking away Robin's fingers that attempt to dip into the bowl for a taste. And apparently, while Robin may be the father, Roland is definitely the ruler in the kitchen as he shoo's Robin away with a warning look and a scowling "No thieving Papa! You know the rules!"
It makes Regina's heart double down at the matching frown Robin sends his boy, arms crossed pitifully over his chest as he slumps himself down into the seat beside her, groaning into his mug playfully. He's a good dad. And he's raised quite an astounding young boy.
"Regina, can you help me flip the pancakes?"
"Of course." She chuckles at Robin's hushed out petulant whine that he always flips the pancakes, before moving in front of the stove and laddleling in the first perfect circle of batter. Roland's eyes gape open between her and the pan. "Wow! Papa look!"
Robin's head cranes over his coffee in question.
"Regina makes circles!"
Her eyebrows crease at that. How else are pancakes supposed to look? But her curiosity is quickly rectified with Roland's giggle that "Papa's always look like an elephant squished them."
"You wound me my boy!"
"They still taste good Papa. They just aren't as pretty as Regina's."
"Seems Regina is all the pretty things today isn't she Roland."
The next swaddle of batter nearly spills from her fingers at that and she dare not look back at Robin for the redness in her cheeks would certainly be a dead giveaway as to the butterflies that sudden flutter in her stomach. It's ridiculous. It's just pancakes. She should not be demanding her heart to slow down it's frantic pace at some kind words of a man she barely knows.
Even if he invited her into his kitchen...to cook with his son. Still. It's a one time thing. Her way of saying thank you to him and that will be the end of it. Clearing her throat she drops a few chocolate chips onto the browning cake and rustles the pan three times before tossing the breakfast high into the air, reveling in the squeal it erupts from Roland as it lands far to perfectly back into the pan. Seems she hasn't lost her touch in the kitchen that much.
It's six more flips and a hell of a lot of cheering from Roland and a comment or two from Robin about how impressive she is, before she turns down the burner and sets a plateful down on the island between them. It's not even a moment before she unties her apron and settles down into the stool beside Robin when Roland's mouth is full to the brim with syrup, berries, and pancakes, his father in much of the same state, though a trickle of maple sauce has found it's way down his chin.
Did she mention he was adorable?
Roland. Roland is adorable. Not Robin. That's not what she meant exactly. Maybe just that they are adorable together as a pair. That's it.
"This is amazing Regina. I didn't know you were such an amazing chef." Robin stabs another piece, looking at her with absolute adoration. For her cooking, nothing else. She's a good cook. He's admiring her skills. Even if he continues to let his eyes wander her face and his hand to pass and squeeze her hand once or twice. It's just acknowledgement for breakfast.
"Thank you. It's been awhile since I've been in a proper kitchen."
"Well by all means feel free to stay and help us with dinner tonight."
Her fork drops. Clatters in a high pitched clang onto her plate as she stares at him. And the man looks bewildered by what he just said as he swallows down another slice. He just asked her to stay for dinner. With him and his son. He just said that. How can he not even realize it? Her skin flushes hot as she chokes down a gulp of burning hot coffee in an attempt to quell this sudden shock running through her.
"Yeah Regina stay! We make tacos on fridays! And you can come visit my mama with us!"
Robin sputters at that. Coughing violently as he reaches out to rummage through his son's messy curls. "I think Regina probably has things to do this afternoon." He tickles Roland's tummy before flicking his gaze back up to Regina, "But the offer still stands for dinner."
There are a million and one reasons why she should definitely not be staying for dinner with them. Case and point she has a interview tomorrow she has to get ready for otherwise the motel is going to ask her to leave given that she can't pay for a room again for the upcoming week and she will be back at the shelter she absolutely loathed staying at.
She should be looking into other jobs just incase this one at the law firm doesn't pan out. Not everyone wants to hire a previously homeless person who has absolutely no money to their name, her saving grace being her education. But still that was what, sixteen years ago she graduated? Sure she worked for a solid fourteen before Henry got sick, but still, businesses move on and look for the newest and best crop of employee's. Not some random woman who once worked as a lawyer way back in the day at a small college not many would recognize the name of.
She should just say thank you, and make up some excuse for not coming back and spending more time with this man and his perfect little boy.
She should say no, but her response is the exact opposite.
"Well, I do make a mean chicken enchilada."
And Robin smiles so hard she wonders if his dimples will crack.
TBC.
(yes? no? toss into the fiery pits of hell and walk away?)