Home for the Homeless Part 3

"Wanna meet my mom?"

Breakfast is over far too quick for his liking, and he desperately hopes it not terribly obvious to her that he keeps stalling, drinking a third glass of orange juice even though his stomach feels like it's ripping at his pant seams, just so she will stay a little bit longer and talk to him. There is so much he wants to know about her. What makes her smile. What will make her laugh. How to get her eyes to sparkle at him like they do when she looks at Roland. For a person he barely knows, he feels as though she's always been a part of his life. It's something in the way her hands caress through Roland's curls, the pair of them caught in their own little world amongst stacks of chocolate chip filled pancakes. It's how she blushes whenever Robin pays her a compliment, brushing back a fallen lock of silky hair he'd give his right foot to be able to do the same with.

He shouldn't be feeling this way about her. He doesn't know her, and she doesn't know him. But it's there nonetheless. That bubble in his chest, that continues to expand and burst into a thousand butterflies everytime he does manage to find her eyes. She has beautiful eyes. Dark chocolate like Marian's, but they have this golden undertone to them, something that has him simply gawking everytime he gets the chance. She has definitely caught him staring at her once or twice. Cheeks flushed pink as she bites a smile back and focuses on his son who is eating up every ounce of attention from her he can. It does make Robin wonder about things, if he is raising his son right, being a single parent is no easy feat, and there are more days than not when Robin slides into his bed and sighs at the empty pillow beside him.

It's been three years since Marian died, and he misses her. The ache still very palpable in his heart at the thought of all the memories they should still be having together. The life they had intended to build, plans of camping trips and summer lake vacations at her cabin in Montana with their son. Teaching him how to fish and make s'mores underneath the stars. They'd even started talking about having a second child. Marian always wanted a daughter and Robin couldn't help but fall head over heels at the idea of a little princess having him wrapped around her finger.

But then came the cancer. The multiple surgeries, and then chemotherapy which had stripped his wife of her immune system, wreaked havoc on her heart and eventually she'd succumbed to it all, passing away from heart failure. Cardiotoxicity. That's what the doctors had explained to him. Chemotherapy had weakened her heart and it could no longer pump efficiently enough to keep his wife alive. That was it.

He'd been sleeping on the couch in her hospital room, a barely year old Roland tucked into her arms, and he'd woken up to his son's quiet tears as the morning parted through the curtains and Marian didn't stir. He knew right then and there. She could pick up her baby boy's cries from a mile away, but this time, she didn't wake to cradle him softly, soothe and hush him back to sleep.

He's never spoken of that moment to anyone. Not even Marian's parents when they asked. He lied, and said Roland was sleeping with him. Why, he doesn't exactly know, but it seemed cruel to tarnish the mother inside of her like that. To say she didn't wake when her child cried. Robin couldn't do that. It's a secret he will take to the grave with him.

"Regina, wanna come see my room!?" Roland pipes up, bringing Robin back from his memories.

Regina smiles, a stunning thing, and ruffles Roland's hair. "Maybe some other time, I'm afraid I've kept you and your father long enough."

"Awww please stay!"

Robin's not sure if it's him that says it or Roland, either way he echoes his son's statement with a poorly hidden pout of his own. He doesn't want her to leave, hence the third glass of orange juice, but he also knows that he has to get Roland dressed and ready for kindergarten, and himself to work. But the prospect of putting on a suit and going into endless budget meetings on a day that is sunny and warm just seems beyond ridiculous. He'd rather spend the day with his boy and, perhaps if he is lucky, with Regina. Though he's a fool to think she'd pick chasing a toddler around the park when more than likely she already has plans, or a job to get to.

"You promised echidada's!"

"Enchilada's." She corrects with a chuckle as Roland whines dismally into his pancakes, her eyes flicking over to Robin. "I'll still come back if you and your daddy want me to cook for you."

"But that's so far! You should stay all day." He pouts, lower lip popping out with a pair of puppy dog eyes at her as if he already knows those eyes are her kryptonite. Henry knew exactly how to use them too. Big hazel gaze staring up at her as though if she were to say no to his request the entire world would surely crumbled beneath his tiny feet. She gave in more often than not. Even if Daniel teased her about it later. She would have found a way to move mountains and part the ocean's if it made her boy happy. Especially in those last few months. There was nothing he'd ask for that she didn't find a way to make happen. Cost was no issue. She had money, and Daniel's life insurance was always there. So if Henry asked, Regina delivered.

She supposes that's when things with her mother really took a turn downhill. They never really saw eye to eye when it came to spoiling Henry. Regina was firm that her son be given everything he wanted, he had cancer and was being so damn brave fighting it every day that she didn't understand the harm in giving him what he wanted. A new XBox to play games on between treatments had been expensive, but it made him smile. And yes there were his medical bills that she was still paying, that were still racking up, and she wasn't working, opting to take care of her son like any mother would, and Daniel had passed away, so sure the money was going out far quicker than it was coming in, but still, Henry's happiness came first. However, mother didn't see it that way. Horrid bitch she was.

It was in her high and mighty opinion that Henry could simply play with toys and puzzles the hospital provided. The same ones he'd been playing with since the day they walked into the hospital a year prior. He'd finished the puzzles, they were only ten pieces to begin with and he was so smart, just like his father. They bored him after the eighth time. And there is only so much fun to be had with the same old tonka truck rolling around on the blue cotton blanket of his bed.

Cora called him spoiled. Regina just about wrung her mother's neck at that. He was six years old and battling leukemia. What else was she supposed to do but give him every last damn fucking toy he wanted before the day came when he wasn't around to play with them anymore. It was that argument, outside her son's doorway, as doctors and nurses raised eyebrows and walked past, that Cora Mills turned her back and abandoned her daughter and grandson in their biggest time of need. Claiming that clearly Regina didn't need her help or her money if she could afford to spoil her son with extravagance.

She watched her mother turn on her heel, nose high in the air and walk down the hallway, into the elevator and the doors shut as Cora stared indignantly at her daughter. She hadn't shed a tear the entire time, held herself together until later that night when Henry was fast asleep and couldn't hear her leave and walk down into the cafeteria and silently cry over a cup of cold coffee. A nurse had come over at one point, freshened up said coffee and simply sat beside Regina, not saying a word, just reading a book and holding her hand until Regina's tears ran dry and the sun peaked through the windows.

Mary Margaret. That was the nurse's name. She'd been attending to Henry for the past six months, reading him fairytale after fairytale. Her favorite had been Snow White, Henry's was Peter Pan. Regina knows every line by heart now. Having sat in his room listening quietly as Mary animatedly constructed a tale of heroism, love, and courage. She'd always kiss the top of his head, bald as he may have been, and told him to be brave, to never stop believing in magic, and to have hope. Henry loved her and she him.

His sixth birthday had been between transfusions, and Mary Margaret had thrown him an amazing spiderman themed birthday party, with red and blue cake, a spider shaped pinata, and the entire hospital wing all dressed as superheros. Regina included, decked head to toe in a catwoman ensemble that had Henry giggling at her cat ears. That had been a good day. Her baby was six years old and the doctors were smiling instead of bringing bad news.

When Henry died, it was Mary Margaret who had helped plan his memorial. Picking out yellow sunflowers because they reminded Regina of Henry's smile, handing out superhero masks and putting together the montage of photos she'd taken in conjunction with a bunch of Regina's own.

She owes a lot to her, and hasn't been able to set foot into the hospital to say thank you since. She should go. Maybe once she has a bit more courage like her son did, she'll go back.

"Roland, son. I'm sure Regina has other plans today." Robin looks at her, hoping with all his might that he is wrong and she is going to smile at him once more and agree to spending the day with him and his boy.

"You can come say hi to my momma with me and daddy!"

Robin damn near drops his glass as he sputters and coughs. It's true, it's the 22nd of the month, and every 22nd they take a dozen lilies and walk through the cemetery to Marian's headstone, have a picnic and play the cloud game until Roland decides it is time for ice cream. He just didn't realize it was today. Perhaps it's because his attention today has been on a certain other brunette.

Regina looks a touch caught off guard as well. Eyes wide as she looks over to Robin for some help. Her heart far too soft to say no, but again she really does need to be getting ready for her interview.

"I think maybe that's supposed to be special time for you and your dad to spend with your momma don't you?"

"But she'd like you! I know she would!"

It crosses Regina's mind that from what Robin said of his wife's passing, it happened three years ago, which would make Roland only a year old when she died. He can't remember her can he?

His eyes are all big and brown and damn hopeful, and she is at a loss for words as he stares up at her, all chocolate chip smudged cheeks and messy hair in his superman cape. Damn him and his adorable little self that whimpers out the saddest "Pleaaaaase, Regina." she's ever heard.

Robin for his part looks half deer caught in headlights and half sheepishly hopeful she will say yes. Roland must get his puppy dog eyes from his father. Marian didn't stand a chance with the two of them. And she really shouldn't be entertaining the idea of spending the afternoon and evening with them... she shouldn't, but something about them, about this house and this kitchen makes her feel like she belongs. Strange as it may be.

They don't know one another, he gave her money, she is just supposed to be here to say thank you. It does, however, make her curious why he did it. Three years is a long time to be continuously generous without some ulterior motive is it not? Maybe it's out of pity that he has so much money and she had absolutely none. Perhaps she is simply a charity case for him to feel better about the fact his home is beautiful, that he wears tailored expensive clothes and probably drives some ridiculously luxurious vehicle.

It's what her mother always use to say, there is no selfless good deed. Everyone does something nice for another only to make themselves feel better about it. It's the streak of skepticism that has been beaten into Regina's mind. No one does anything out of the kindness of their heart. That's not human nature.

In truth, Robin is probably just letting her eat his food and drink his coffee because he figures she hasn't had a solid breakfast in years. And she hasn't, but she is nobody's charity case. She doesn't need the pity party. And the thought of walking into a cemetery where her own baby boy sleeps soundly has her stomach turning in knots.

She hasn't visited him. Didn't have the money when he died to even buy him a proper headstone. Every last penny had gone to his medical bills.

It's a wash of shame that floods over her. How horrid of a mother she's been to not even go see her son. Robin clearly takes Roland to visit his mother. A toddler has more bravery than she, a grown woman does.

Robin frowns as he sees her eyes go blank, a far off glassy look that shrouds the chocolate color. She's lost in thought, and by the looks of it, it's not a very pleasant one either. He knows that feeling. The pain of being caught amidst memories that hurt beyond belief. The ones that cut a hot knife through the soul, leaving it forever spliced. There is clearly much more to Regina's past than simple money troubles.

Though clearly she isn't exactly flush with cash at the moment either. Her jacket fits a bit large against the small square of her shoulders, emphasizing the fact that she probably hasn't had a decent meal in months. He feels like a git all of a sudden.

Here he is, in his home that has extra rooms and square footage, a fridge stocked with food, and far too many clothes in both he and his sons closets, and he's never really stopped to appreciate it. How lucky he is to have never been hungry, or forced to sleep on the streets. He's had a rich life, never wanted for something given the fact he's always had the means to purchase.

He should do more for the community. Give back. He damn well knows his company can afford it. Perhaps he could start a charity or a foundation for cancer research. Marian would have liked that. She was always the more charitable out of the two of them.

It had been a year after her passing that he'd walked down the same bloody concrete steps towards the subway that instead of staring down at his phone he'd looked up and saw her. Sitting against the third pillar, knees curled to her chest, and a crumpled up Boston Red Sox hat at her feet. He had stopped dead in his tracks when she lifted her head and brushed back a piece of fallen hair from her pony tail. Aside from Marian, she was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Sure, a bit dirt smudged and messy haired, but still. His heart stopped the second her eyes flicked up to his.

He felt a bit of a bumbling fool as he fished out his wallet, feeling a touch embarrassed when all he had was credit cards and a single dollar bill. Something was better than nothing though right? He'd dropped the bill into her hat, heart thumping erratically when she gave him a small smile behind a quiet thank you.

For the rest of the day he thought of her. And for three years, it became his morning routine to see her. He should have given her more. Should have done something to help her.

He'll look into starting the foundation on Monday.

Before he can stop himself, he's reached over the island and linked her fingers into his own, squeezing gently as her eyes flick up to his own. She looks stunned, and a touch curious at the gesture. Almost as though she doesn't understand why he is trying to comfort her. Silently to himself Robin vows to never let her feel like she doesn't have a friend to seek comfort from again.

"Roland, why don't you go get ready to see your mother?"

"You mean I don't have to go to school?" He beams, standing up on his stool triumphantly. "I can play hooky!"

Regina laughs as Roland's cape flies about when he leaps from the chair and scampers out of the kitchen. It leaves just herself and Robin, still holding hands alone.

"I promise you, he doesn't play hooky often."

She smirks and arches a playful eyebrow at him. "Mhmmm."

"M'lady, you don't believe me?" Robin grins back, jesting utter shock and disbelief at her. "I run a military home here I'll have you know."

Regina chuckles, looks down at their joined hands and feels a flush in her heart bloom. "I think chocolate chip smothered pancakes every Friday would beg to differ."

"Only a standard rule my son obeys, I assure you."

"Ahhh, ever so strict you are."

He feels like he is about to float away and her fingers the only thing tethering him to the floor. "Perhaps I just need something to let loose over."

It's bold.

The way he says it with a cheeky dimpled grin and dazzlingly mischievous eyes. And she thinks he's flirting with her. Which would be ridiculous he'd even be slightly interested. She has no job, no money, lives in a motel, she doesn't really have anything to offer or entice him with. So it's preposterous he is making such a innuendo. And even more ridiculous that she wants to flirt back with him.

Wants to kick herself the moment she smiles and tells him "Or just someone." And the grin he supplies her quip back with is damn near knee buckling. The way he bites down on his tongue that peeks out on his lower lip. And if she'd dare believe it, she'd almost say he's blushing. There is certainly a red tint to his cheeks beneath that stubble she'd rather like to scratch.

But she also feels her own cheeks flushing rouge. He's staring at her like he's seeing color for the first time. Scanning her face with such enamour and awe.

"Is something wrong?" She swallows, lets her free hand tuck her hair behind her ear rather shyly when Robin asks her what makes her think that.

"Well, you're staring like I have something in my teeth."

Robin coughs a laugh and smoothed his thumb over her fingers. "You're teeth are fine."

"My mascara is smudged?"

He shakes his head and leans down to rest his head on his open palm.

"I have hair sticking out of place?"

"Nope."

"Must be a chocolate chip stain on my shirt then." She checks her too quickly, melting inside when his eyes momentarily flicking down as well.

"You're clean."

"Then what?"

Robin smiles, and catches her eyes again, "You're just beautiful. That's all."

Well damn it all to hell. She laughs, blushes furiously and rolls her eyes hard. Seems the millionaire is not only handsome and has an adorable son, but is quite the charmer.

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

Her coffee has long been empty at she glances at the clock, shit it's five past eight. She's made him late. Made herself late for… preparing for her interview.

"I'd hate to upset Roland but I really should be going."

The disappointment on Robin's face is down right adorable as he scowls, only seems to tighten his grip on her hand further in some sort of silly way to get her to stay. "He'll understand but only if I promise him you're coming back for dinner tonight."

Regina's stomach flutters as she beams at Robin, who matches her with a smile of his own. "I suppose I could cook for you again."

"Other way around."

"What?"

"You're a guest, and you've already cooked me and my son breakfast. Seems only fair I repay with being your chef for the evening."

Funny word, repay. She should be the one repaying him. Not the opposite. "How about I make the enchilada's and you can help."

"You doubt my skills in the kitchen?"

"Well if Roland's explanation of your elephant smushed pancakes is anything to go off of…"

"You wound me."

"Poor thing."

Robin nods pitifully, "I fear for my health after such an painful insinuation."

"Are you asking me to play nurse for you?" She bites her lip sinfully, hoping she hasn't crossed a line. And Robin seems more than eager to keep their banter going with a cheeky "I may need round the clock care."

"I'll bet."

He wants to kiss her. Won't, but desperately wishes he could close the distance between them and press his lips against hers. It's impossible that he's only known her truly for a day. Three years in passing yes, but this is their first real interaction and he is already swooning far too hard.

She sees the way his eyes fall to her lips, lingering for a long moment before he blows out a breath through his nose and sits back in his stool. The distance is unpleasant, more so when his fingers ghost away from hers.

"I'll let Roland know you'll be coming for dinner."

"I'd like that."

"As would I."

"Well, I should get going."

"If you must." Robin resigns as Regina too sighs and drops her mug into the sink. He follows when she walks to the door and his heart knocks against his ribs. He knows she is coming back. She said she would. But the thought of her leaving, even if it's just for a few hours suddenly seems like the worst idea.

Her purse is slung over her shoulder as she turns, fidgeting with the hem of her blazer, and she waits for him to say something.

Stay. Don't leave.

It's what he wants to tell her. But then again he'd rather not scare her off, lest she run away and he'd not get the chance to see her again. Still he can't help but ask her once more as he steps into her space and links their hands together, "If you change your mind, Roland and I will be at Hillcrest cemetery at noon. There will be plenty of apple juice and possibly an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich if you're hungry."

She's trying really hard not to smile. She really is. But he is grinning all dimpled and hopeful at her and dammit, it's infectious.

But then again it's the cemetery. Where Henry is. And she isn't exactly sure she's ready to tackle that emotional mountain.

"I know it's not the most happy of places for a picnic." Robin grimaces. "But I'd be thrilled, as would Roland, if you did join us."

She doesn't say anything, her stomach knotting at the thought and not in a good way.

Robin seems to catch onto her discomfort as he squeezes her hands, brings one up to his lips as her eyes follow and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles, "If you're busy, I understand. Dinner is still on the table for tonight regardless."

"I'll think about it."

"About dinner?" He frowns, but she is quick to relieve him of that blow with a small smile. "I'll be here for dinner."

"You promise?"

She nods and opens the door, looking over her shoulder as she walks out of his home, thinking of everything but prepping for her interview.

Perhaps today is the day to be brave like Henry. Maybe she will go see him. If she can find the courage. Oddly enough, as she turns out of the front gate her eyes find Robin's again. He's leaning against the door frame, giving her a parting wave and a lopsided grin.

Maybe he could be her courage.

She just needs to be brave.

TBC.