ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.

THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE SCANNING, UPLOADING, AND DISTRIBUTION OF THIS BOOK VIA THE INTERNET OR VIA ANY OTHER MEANS WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER IS ILLEGAL AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.

WAITING MAKES EVEN THE SANEST person go a little off-kilter. November went into December, the air chilled, the leaves fell. The color of the town seemed to dim as the weather changed. The winter winds picked up and blew through town and ushered people indoors. Feeling restless, Regina tried to busy herself with reports, with her calendar, setting up negotiations. She spent time on conference calls, which she hated.

Robin was in court, the docket had given him three days, she'd rarely seen him in the office. It wasn't a bad thing, per se, but to her mind, it gave her one less person to complain to. Maggie had already put her foot down and sent her out of her room that morning. She'd complained and badgered her crazy for the last two weeks.

David was less patient and had given up a week earlier. Gold had given her the eye and threatened to multiply her caseload if she didn't stop hounding him.

Peter Mueller had yet to call about the case and it was killing her. She'd know if he'd gone criminal, Belfrey wouldn't hesitate on making such an announcement. It would-be all-over town, so, she waited. Waiting was her Achilles heel. It drove her nuts. She wanted the case and hoped he wouldn't wait until after the holidays to give her an answer.

As she sulked over her morning coffee, she picked up the ringing phone, "Regina Mills."

"Hello, sis." Zelena's voice full of playfulness and her usual teasing tone filled her ear.

"Hi," she smiled. "It's about time you called."

"I've been busy, how goes it in Lawyer Ville? Any doozy cases?"

Regina sat and sighed with contentment, "I've got a whopper on the line. How are you?"

"You know me, I'm fine. Single," she commented.

"What? What happened?"

"Don't get me started on that cheating bastard. Let's just move on from that. What are you doing for Christmas?"

"My plans aren't definite. Most likely hanging around here with Maggie and Robin. You?"

"Robin? Is that the hunky lawyer that moved into the office with you? Are you seeing him?"

"He's a civil attorney, he is hunky, and yes I am. I'm in love, Zee."

Laughter over the line made her smile, "The big L?"

"God, I think so. It's more than what I felt with Daniel, Zee. It's more than I've felt with anyone, it's a little scary," she said honestly.

"I'm happy for you, and I can't wait to meet him."

"What are your plans?" Regina wanted to know.

"I thought I'd come to visit," she said.

"You came last year," Regina pointed out. "I guess being alone sucks, huh?"

"Not entirely alone," she mumbled. "I sort of have something to tell you." When the anxiety-filled her tone, Regina sat up in her chair.

"Okay."

"Mom's living with me, Gina," she began. "She turned up a few months ago out of the blue. She's worse off." The tone of voice her sister exuded told her it had to be. She wasn't serious often, not like this.

"What do you mean?" It was hard to feel sympathy for a woman who walked out on them as young girls. It was also difficult to imagine the well put together woman out of sorts or bad off, as her sister said.

"She's working the program, she showed up here plowed, I barely recognized her. She's lost a ton of weight, her face is all sunk in, I think there was alcohol on top of some drugs. She didn't look like herself. I paid for treatment. She just got out a few days ago. It's hard on me to see her like that," she said. "You know how much she means to me."

"Yea, I do. Zelena—"

"Don't be mad at me," she interrupted with urgency. "I know you hate her, but she was my mother and I was older. I understood why she left. She needed me and I was there for her."

"I'm not mad," she realized. "I feel sorry for her, but I don't want you to get hurt. Again."

"This isn't my first rodeo," she said evenly. "She showed up a year ago with the same problem and promises."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Anger and betrayal mixed together in an elixir that turned her belly.

"Because you overreact. You always do. I gave her a chance and when she disappeared, I left it alone. I had a life too." Pausing, she heard her sister sigh in frustration, "I had to do it, Gina. I paid for treatment and she's been doing what they say. She's sober and she's sorry."

Tears clogged her throat and burned her eyes, "I needed her," she said not quite clear. "I needed her, and she left. You were old enough to not need her. I watched daddy lose himself and I watched him die still loving her."

"You still love her too," she argued. "If you didn't, it wouldn't make you this upset. I want to bring her home for Christmas. I think we should be together this year. It's important, Gina."

"Zee, I don't know if I can." Closing her eyes, Regina pressed a fist to her forehead, "Let me think about it, okay?"

"Don't think too long, Gina. I'm sorry," she said wistfully.

"Don't be. I love you, Zee."

"I love you too. Call me soon. It's almost Christmas," she reminded her.

Regina put the phone down in its cradle, stood, walked to the door, shut it, pressed her back to the solid wood, slid to the floor and wept.

BUNDLED IN HIS COAT BRIEFCASE in hand, he braced against the wind as he made his way to the front door of his apartment. The wind had kicked up in the last week, it was an annoyance you dealt with in Texas winter.

Inside, he shed his coat, toed off his shoes, slipped his tie from his neck tossing it carelessly over a sofa. He turned on the heater to ward off the chill, walked to his room. He stripped to the skin, stepped into the shower under the hot spray. It released the knots he'd carried with him through court, through meetings, and through another court session that afternoon.

He didn't bother heading to the office, he'd been done, and he'd get to his notes tomorrow, he thought. Fresh from the shower, he dressed in jeans and a sweater. He thumbed through the mail on his counter, made a note to call his mother. He was heading to London on Wednesday to visit his family for Christmas. To visit his dad, hopefully not for the last time.

He slid his feet into his shoes, put on a coat, grabbed his suitcase, and headed to Regina's apartment. They usually had dinner together and he was late. He knocked on the door and waited. Knocked again with no response. He glanced at his watch, she was home, he'd seen her car.

Using his key, the one she'd given him just a few days before, he was grateful for the heat that welcomed him. Draping his coat over the couch, he stopped. The house was quiet, too quiet, he thought. Too dark, he mused and flicked on a few lamps.

Frowning, he listened out for her and didn't hear her usual puttering in the kitchen. The house was silent, the lights in the kitchen weren't on as they usually were. "Regina?" His call received no answer. He toed off his shoes and tossed them in the corner. Walked down the hall to her room.

The bed was empty, but he heard soft music playing by the dresser. That could only mean she was soaking in the tub.

He opened the door, walked in, she was indeed in the tub, sleeping. Her dark hair was twisted and pinned up around her delicate neck, bubbles surrounded her body, her arms were draped over the sides. She'd painted her nails a deep blue, he observed. He stepped forward and dipped a finger into the water, found it was still warm.

Tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertip, he said, "Hey."

Her eyes fluttered open, her lips curved, "Hi." The smile didn't quite meet her eyes, he noted. He laid his lips on hers and sat down on the edge of the tub, he took her hand. "I didn't hear you come in," she said.

"I just got here, you didn't answer the door. Anything exciting happen today?"

"No," she said avoiding his eyes. "I thought we'd order in tonight."

"Alright, you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?" When she only stared, he brushed his fingertip under her eye, "It's all over you."

When she met his eyes, she shook her head, "Not particularly. At least not right now," she amended.

He leaned forward, touched his lips to hers, "I'm here when you're ready. I've got some work. I'll order the food," he said. Kissed her again.

"'kay."

Robin set up his laptop at the kitchen table, ordered the food, and got to work. He was deep into his debrief and case notes when the doorbell rang. He paid for the food and set it on the table, finished his notes. Then, he went to look for her.

It'd been nearly an hour as he worked, she'd gotten out of the tub, dressed in her sleepwear, and laid down. She was buried under the covers, her head rested on her pillow staring at nothing. She smelled of apples and cinnamon from her soap. Sitting next to her, he rested an arm around her, "Feeling any better?"

She turned to meet his eyes, "A little."

"Food's here," he said. "Doesn't look like you're up to eating." He softly caressed up and down her arms.

"Not much of an appetite," she shrugged.

He didn't want to push her, he'd figured out it was the easiest way for her to shut down. Instead, he offered, "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll put it away."

He waited a full minute, watched emotion cloud her eyes, "Will you hold me?" The sadness on her face put an ache in his heart.

He laid down next to her, drew head to his chest, and held on. Silence enveloped them, he wasn't good with silence. Since it was what she seemed to need, he obliged her. Snuggled in, caressed up and down her back with his fingers, felt her breath ease, her body relax.

"My sister called me this morning," she began.

"Yea? Zelena's in London, right?"

"Yes," she said wistfully. "She broke up with her boyfriend, he cheated on her, she said."

"Is she alright?" He continued to caress, to massage, to soothe.

"With her, I can't tell over the phone. I know her, she'd be upset. She bounces back pretty fast."

She was rounding to something, he thought. It was her way, he knew. She talked around it until she had to say what was on her mind. What the root of her unhappiness was, he recalled. He was still learning things about her but he had that nailed down.

"It's gotta be hard living in a city alone," he commented. "Does she have friends?"

"I'm sure she does, I can't think of anyone that sticks, but she's rarely alone."

"So, was that why she called? To tell you about her breakup?"

Regina shifted, snuggled closer, "She wants to come down for Christmas. She was here last year, we usually take turns."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I'd think about it."

He'd thought of his trip to London, had thought about asking her to join him, but he wasn't sure if it was too fast. Introducing her to his parents would be something big. It would solidify them, sure. But going home wouldn't be all about the holidays and joy. It would be painful and a potential goodbye to his father.

He was wrestling with himself in deciding on whether to invite her, to put her through that. He didn't know if he could deal with it. It felt like a good time now, but he was a coward. She'd probably say no, he thought.

"Is that why you're upset? Because she wants to come for Christmas?"

"If she comes, she won't be alone," she said with a tone void of infliction.

"I thought you said—"

"She wants to bring my mother," she interrupted in that same distant tone.

Sitting up, he brought her up to a seated position, turned her to meet his gaze, "What?"

He saw the anger and sadness mixed in those eyes. "Zelena told me she showed up at her house a few months ago. She was drunk and stoned and feeling sorry for herself. My sister put her in a treatment center."

"When?"

"I guess ninety days ago, she's living with my sister, and wants to make amends," she said harshly.

"That angers you," he said simply. "Makes you sad at the same time," he added.

Pulling from him, he watched her slide out of bed and start pacing. Her face was turning red, she tugged on her hair, "I'm angry that Zelena kept this from me, that she didn't bother to tell me this months ago. I'm angry that my mother thinks she can apologize like it makes it all better. It doesn't!"

He thought it best to stay silent. To let her get it out.

"I was fourteen when she walked out on my father and us. I needed her," she said. He could hear the suppressed sob. Her voice was heavy and thick with sadness. "I was a girl and I needed my mother. I watched how it destroyed my father. Did you know he died still loving her? I was angry with him for that."

"Were you?" It surprised him.

"Yes!" Tears began to silently fall, she angrily wiped them away. "She left us and when he died, he called out for her. I was the one who sat by his side and took care of him, I stayed when Zelena left. I cared for him. He called for my mother and I hated him for that. I loved my father and I miss him, but I still hate him for that."

"Sometimes we don't know what goes on between two people," he said carefully.

She whirled on him, "Are you taking her side?"

"I'm not taking sides, Regina. He was sick and probably delirious in the end, things come to you. If he called for her, he probably loved her. You didn't know her like he did."

"I didn't know her because she didn't let me see! She left me and I had to figure out how to live my life without her. Do you know what that is like? She was there and then she wasn't. I knew she was cold, I knew she didn't love me like a mother should. But I spent most of my life blaming myself."

"It's not your fault," he argued.

"How do you know? I never lived up to her expectations, to her level of pride. I was a little girl with too much fear and shyness in me. Now, she's in a program and wants to check off one of her twelve steps to assuage her guilt."

"Regina, come here," he said gently. He could see she was ready to break any second.

"No! Don't coddle me, I have a right to be angry, to scream if I want to." Her body was trembling, her hands fisted, her eyes full of grief.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "What can I do to help?"

"I…" her chin trembled, her eyes watered, and as he stood to take her into his arms, she let out a sob against his chest. She clung to him like a life raft, like if she let him go, she'd fall apart. He held her tightly as she wept, her body jerking with each sob, her hands fisted on his sweater. The grief, the anger, the loss, and the fear all warped from her into him.

He could feel her hot breath, feel her body shudder, and when she tightened her grip, he stayed steady. Stood and waited until she emptied herself. Until she was too weak to stand on her own, he lifted her off the ground and pulled her into his lap as he sat.

Calmly, he caressed, he hugged, he kissed her forehead, her wet cheeks. When she was exhausted, she slept. He bundled the blankets over her, climbed in behind her, and held her.

THE ROOM WAS SILENT, the lights were off, and Robin wasn't in bed with her. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. It was nearing midnight, she'd been wiped out. Humiliated, she pushed herself to sit. Closing her eyes, she felt like she'd run a marathon and was too sore to walk. Like that feeling, you get working out after a long break. Her muscles were sore, her bellyached, and she had a headache.

Climbing out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. She didn't look horrible, she thought. Splashing water on her face, she felt marginally better. Better still when she emptied her bladder and brushed her teeth. Making her way to the kitchen, she stopped in the shadows.

Robin was typing on his computer, he'd taken off his shirt, had a bottle of water next to him. Files were open, he looked relaxed. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the kitchen, took out her own bottle of water, and drank. As he closed the lid of his laptop, she walked around the counter, put her bottle aside, and climbed into his lap.

"I'm sorry," she said touching her lips to his.

"For what?" He wrapped his arms around her. It helped, she thought.

"Falling apart all over you," she said. "I was a mess."

"Rightly so," he said. "Don't apologize for letting your feelings out. You keep too much in."

"I…I guess I do," she admitted. "I don't know how to feel about all this."

"Take some time to process it. I think one day isn't enough."

"Thank you," she said. Framing his face in her hands, she kissed him.

"For?"

"You held me, and you didn't push me," she said. "It was just what I needed. And you didn't leave," she added.

"I couldn't leave you like that," he said. "My heart aches for you, I didn't realize there was that much grief inside you." His hand reached up to cover her heart, "Let me help ease it."

"You are by being here," she said as she wrapped around him, laid her mouth on his.

"I've been thinking…"

"About?" She watched him, his eyes were wary, his smile tentative.

"I leave next Wednesday, you know," he began.

"I know."

Opening the lid of his laptop, he revealed the screen to her. "There's an open seat. Why don't you come with me?"

"To London?"

"No to Timbuktu," he said sarcastically. "It might be easier to go to your sisters. Go on her turf and if it's too difficult to deal, you can leave anytime you want. I'll pick you up."

"It's so last minute," she said. "The parade is next Tuesday, and I've been looking forward to seeing Roland."

"I know, I thought on that too. You've got the week to plan, plus a few days. I figured we go early Tuesday, meet them for breakfast, go to the parade, catch the flight Wednesday morning. Come with me, Regina. You need a break, and I have a few selfish reasons of my own."

"Your dad?"

"Partly," he admitted. "I want you to meet my parents. I want them to meet the love of my life." He brushed his nose along hers.

Her heart swelled at the thought, it was a big step, and it brought on new anxieties. New fears. New possibilities, she mused. Turning to the screen, she clicked the mouse and booked a ticket. "There's no turning back now," she laughed.

He hugged her to his chest, "I love you." When he nudged her back to meet his gaze, he kissed her softly. "Come on, I wanna show you how much," he smirked. He stood and lifted her with him down the hall.

When he tumbled them on the bed, she let out laughter that dissolved some of the stress and grief. With him, she could let it go and be in the moment.