It's a bit of a time jump from the previous chapter.

"It's the biggest house on the block. You can't miss it." the man told her and he was not exaggerating. It was an impressive white mansion, done in colonial style. Ivy stared at the pristine white door, number 108, for a long moment. It was now or never. She took a deep calming breath and rang the doorbell.

An elegant looking woman opened the door, "Yes?"

As if on a job interview, she straightened up, put on her best smile and extended her hand, "I am Ivy Belfrey. I came to speak with your son, Henry."

The woman paused then put on a smile to match Ivy's, "I'm his mother, Regina Mills. Please, come in."

They walked through the foyer and into, what Ivy assumed was a study. It was decorated in a simple, yet sophisticated manner. Shelves were stacked with books and from what Ivy could notice without appearing nosy, it had everything from gardening books, biographies of distinguished people to classics. She figured that was where Henry developed his love for books.

"How would you like an apple cider while we wait? Henry's out at the moment, but I'll call him right away."

"I'd love to."

"I make it myself. It's an old recipe." she poured her a glass, then dialed Henry.

Ivy never developed a taste for ciders, but she had to admit this one was quite good.

"You should come to the mansion now…" she started as he picked up, "I think this is more important… Ivy Belfry's here...Yes... No… All right..."

All the while, Ivy was looking around. There were many pictures of Henry and his family.

"Exactly." Regina put the phone down and smiled again, "He's on his way."

Ivy wasn't sure what subjects Miss Mills and herself broached. She was trying hardest to be a good interlocutor but all the while she was practically jumping on every sound. Every car she heard drive down the street was sending tingles down her spine. When the door opened, Ivy hopped off the couch and nearly spilled her drink.

It suddenly became overwhelmingly cold and hot at the same time. And when not Henry, but a blonde woman, stepped into the study, Ivy could let herself breathe. Maybe all this was a mistake. She should just leave. There was still time. She barely registered the woman's name and stuttered her own, for the pounding of her heart was yet to be subdued.

The three women continued their small talk, until Regina cleared her throat and said, "I hope we don't have to worry about you, Miss Belfrey."

"Excuse me?"

"First, you ruined our son's business. I understand the business world quite well and I might be able to overlook that. But then you went and broke his heart. It baffles me, what more do you want?"

"I… it was not my intention-"

"Your intention is meaningless."

"Ok, Regina. Tone it down." Emma interfered, "Look, Ivy… we're gonna need you to be honest with us 'cause we're very protective. So, we are gonna take a little break while I make coffee and you're gonna tell us exactly what game you're playing here."

Oh, so that wasn't Henry on the phone. It was disappointing how long it took her to put the pieces together. Had Ivy known she was entering the lion's den she would have never got in. "Yes, Mrs. Swan."

The good cop-bad cop routine was simply terrifying.

"There's someone new in town." Leroy announced as he burst into 'Granny's'.

Henry looked up from his laptop and shook his head. Some things never change, "I thought Astrid broke that habit of yours."

"I'm not gossiping, kid. You know strangers mean trouble in this town."

He reluctantly agreed, though it was now a blatant exaggeration.

"And it should interest you, most of all people."

"It really doesn't, Leroy."

"Fine, maybe Ruby and Dorothy will hear me out."

No, he would not be tempted. The latest gossip Leroy shared was that Ashley's daughter started working at 'The Rabbit Hole' and they had a huge fight about it. No, this too was probably something unimportant and none of his business. Storybrooke had been one of the quietest of towns for a decade. Everything exciting and strange that could have happened, had happened already. On the other hand, what else was to do here and now anyway? Check if another publisher has rejected his book? "Ok, I'll play. Who's the stranger?"

"All right" he slid into the boot next to Henry, "So, Clark was just outside the 'Dark Star Pharmacy' when some fancy girl stepped out of even fancier car and asked him where the Mills residence was."

"Last month, Baron Samdi from Brooksville came in for a meeting about the road repairs, and in the period of two hours ma got seven calls that Zodiac killer was in town."

"You're the one to talk. You thought Regina was the Evil Queen."

"I was eleven!" he couldn't get down that road with Leroy. The man was stubborn as a mule, "But, go on with your story."

"Right, so then I walk past the mansion and your mom, Emma, drives in a hurry, she almost ran me over."

"Mhm." he nodded, only mildly interested.

"So I'm thinking, what does some Seattle girl want with both of your moms? And-"

"Wait, back up. What Seattle girl?"

"The girl, she mentioned Seattle. Keep up, kid."

"Ok, Leroy." he grabbed him by the collar. His heart was hammering, "I need you to tell me exactly what the girl looks like."

"I don't know. Clark said dark hair, pretty, probably your age… you all right, kid? You look a bit pale."

Henry shoved his laptop in the bag and jumped over the table, "Shit!" he cursed as he yanked the door open.

By the time he reached the mansion, he was completely out of breath. He really needed to work out more. He burst into the house with a bang, there was one room they would be in. He scurried into the study. And there, sitting across from his mom was Ivy Belfrey, gripping a glass with both her hands.

She stood up when she saw him. A shy smile was gracing her face, "Hey, Henry. I-"

He raised his hand to silence her, "What are you drinking?"

"Um, apple cider?"

"Really, mom?" he looked at his mother with disapproval, "And where's ma?"

"Don't be rude, Henry. Sit down, we have a guest."

"Hey kid." Emma walked in, "You're back."

Oh, he knew the routine well. His moms perfected it over the years it seemed effortless. He walked up to Ivy and took her by the hand, "You both promised you would stop interrogating my… people who visit me. Ivy and I need to talk in my room. Alone." he announced and pulled Ivy upstairs.

He closed the door behind them, then he opened to check again. His moms weren't on the stairs. Good. He leaned heavily against the door and exhaled. Ivy was standing in the middle of his room. She was shifting her weight from one leg to the other, drink still in her hand. Her eyes were darting from him to the blue wallpaper then back to him and to the stack of comic books on the shelf.

"I don't know how long they've been interrogating you, but I came as soon as I realized."

"It was a starting to get a little… intense. But it's fine."

"God knows what they said."

"That I broke your heart and that I should stay away."

"Wha- they are... No. No, you didn't. For the record, you didn't even chip it. Ok?" he paused, debating whether he sounded sure. "Anyway, you should have called first."

"Would you have answered?" he deleted his e-mail account the day after he found out. He never returned her messages or calls.

He shoved his hands in pockets and looked out of the window, "Why are you here, Ivy?"

"I have a business proposal for you."

He snorted. She couldn't be serious.

She approached him and leaned against the window frame, "After that falling out with my mother, Eloise Gardened from 'Gardener Books' approached me. Gave me a generous offer to work for her and bring in some of the authors."

"Good for you."

"Could have been. But I turned her down. And, I believe, she turned you down."

He faced her, having an odd feeling of deja vu, "How do you know that?"

"I got your manuscript. 'Hedera Books'. That's my publishing house."

"So, I emailed you. Again. Without knowing who you are? Again."

"That's why I came, so as not to have the unfortunate repeat of- listen, I'm here to talk about your novel. I want to help you publish it."

"No."

"Nobody else will."

"You don't know that."

"I do. They think fairly tale inspired novels are passe. If they didn't, your manuscript never would have reached a hardly known new publisher such as myself."

He hated that she had a point, "Then why would you take a risk on it? From the goodness of your heart?"

"Even if that were the case, you would never believe it. I want to publish it because It's good. Really good. And I know how to sell it."

"Without revision?"

"With. It is a story about family, it should focus on that. But I'll tell you more if you accept."

"I think... you should stay for diner."

"Excuse me?"

"We're having a family dinner and I'm inviting you to join."

"I don't understand."

"See, Ivy." he smiled, "If you are really serious about this, then you'll have no problem with that. After all, I am sure I will be easier to convince once I'm well fed."

She narrowed her eyes. This was a challenge of sorts. He had an angle. If she had to conclude from what she's experienced so far, his family would most likely eat her alive before the main course is served, "Of course, I don't. I would love to continue the chat with your moms."

"Great." he opened the door and shouted, "Mom! Ivy's staying for diner."