Getting Hope to calm down Sunday night after she heard about the adoption proved to be a herculean task. She continued to pepper Henry and her parents with questions long after her bath, books, and attempted final goodnight kisses.
In the end, Killian stayed with her, curled up with her in the little twin bed among her pink and purple bedding and countless stuffed animals. Emma stood by the door to watch and listen for one more minute before she turned out the light.
"What color hair will the baby have?" Hope asked.
"Well, her birth mum has red hair," Killian replied tiredly. "So she might have red hair too."
"What!?" Hope replied with comical exaggeration as she sat up in bed and looked down at her father in disbelief. This was clearly an important and thrilling revelation.
Killian sighed and pulled her back down to rest by his shoulder. "But she might not, lass," he added. "We really won't know until she's here."
"And she's coming on Saturday?" Hope asked as a follow up.
Emma chuckled. Hope was still learning all the days of the week, and Saturday tended to be the one that stuck in her mind. Hence, to her, everything of any note happened on a Saturday.
"Not quite, darling," Killian replied patiently. "It will still be a couple of months. You know how Christmas is coming in a few weeks? It will be after Christmas."
"Will Santa bring presents for my baby sister?"
Killian sighed. Emma chuckled and decided to make her escape. She blew them each a kiss and turned out the overhead light, leaving her loves to chat by the light of Hope's nightlight.
She checked in on Henry, who was doing some reading for school in his room.
"Hey Kid," she said. "I'm going to call Regina and give her a heads up about our news, just in case you want to chat with her about it."
"Okay, cool, thanks," he replied. "And Grandma and Grandpa?" he added with a small smirk.
"I was thinking of inviting them over for dinner tomorrow, or inviting ourselves to their place maybe? I don't really want a big scene at Granny's."
"Fair enough. Sounds like a plan," he answered with a knowing grin. He clearly knew his grandmother well enough to know that they were in for oodles of hugs and tears when she heard the news.
Emma headed downstairs and texted her parents about getting together tomorrow after work. Snow replied right away and invited them all over for dinner. She declined Emma's offer to pick up take out and assured her that they had plenty of leftover pot roast from the weekend.
Relieved that the plan to tell her parents was settled, Emma called Regina.
Henry's adoptive mom seemed genuinely happy when Emma told her their news. It also solved a little mystery for The Mayor.
"I knew that sneaky Blue Fairy wasn't telling me everything about her runaway nun," she said smugly. "I mean, I knew the girl was pregnant of course, but I never bought for a second that they were still trying to figure out what to do with her after all this time. Of course they were waiting to ask you two."
"Yep, that was it," Emma replied. "We're telling my parents tomorrow evening, so if you don't mind keeping it to yourself before then. I just wanted Henry to feel like he could talk to you if he wanted."
"Of course," Regina answered quickly.
She sounded touched that Emma had considered her, and Emma was inspired to offer another kindness.
"And I may need to ask you some questions," she began. "About what it's like adopting a baby, how long it takes to adjust, and just general tips and stuff."
"Oh please," Regina replied in a dismissive tone with a slight undercurrent of insecurity. "You and Hook are basically parents of the year. That baby's going to love you right away. Not like Henry with me..." she trailed off, seemingly lost in a memory.
For a moment, Emma regretted bringing up what was a painful subject for both of them, but then Regina collected herself.
"I'll help however I can," she answered firmly. "But you guys are going to be great."
Emma thanked her and said goodbye. She putzed around the house for a little while, cleaning up. Then she headed upstairs to find out whether her four-year-old font of questions was still interrogating her three-hundred-year old pirate.
As it turned out, they were both asleep, cuddled up in the tiny bed. Emma tiptoed over and gently touched Killian's shoulder. Ever the light sleeper, he woke immediately and smiled tiredly at her. She helped him extricate himself from their soundly sleeping daughter, and together they settled Hope back onto her pillow. The little girl turned her head to the side and snorted a little in her sleep. Emma and Killian stifled their giggles, took one last look at their little dear, and then headed to bed themselves.
Monday evening, Emma, Killian, Hope, and Henry were greeted at the Nolans' front door by a very enthusiastic Neal. He wasn't used to the excitement of big family gatherings on an otherwise ordinary Monday, and he was practically bouncing up and down as he led a very happy Hope into the family room to play with his Paw Patrol toys. Henry sweetly offered to keep an eye on them, and Neal beamed at the attention from the nephew he idolized.
Emma and Killian followed David into the kitchen where Snow was heating up the leftovers and pulling a batch of rolls out of the oven.
"Really, Mom?" Emma chided her. "You baked on a work night? You didn't have to do that for us. Now I feel guilty."
"Oh hush," Snow replied. "They're Pillsbury."
"Good," Emma replied with a laugh.
Charming got them each a beer and they leaned on the kitchen island, angling their necks periodically to look in on the kids playing in the next room.
Snow covered the warm rolls with foil, checked on the roast she was warming up, and then leaned against the island next to David.
"So what's new, guys?" she asked innocently. "I feel like we haven't spoken in a while."
Emma took a breath and glanced at Killian who gave her a half-smile and a shrug that said "Might as well go for it."
"Well," Emma began. "It's actually been kind of a crazy few days."
David chuckled. "Crazier than the two months you guys spent living under a curse in Boston where Hook was a Revolutionary War re-enactor?" he joked.
"Fair point, mate," Killian acknowledged with a chuckle.
Emma huffed in frustration. "Let me try again," she said. "Have you guys heard anything about that young novice–or, I guess fairy, that left the convent a few months ago and then came back?"
Snow raised an eyebrow sharply. "I have," she replied. "There was actually a rumor going around the hospital that she was...oh, maybe I shouldn't say." She put her hand to her mouth to keep herself from spilling a secret (for once.)
"It's okay, Mom, you can say. We know already," Emma told her.
"She's pregnant," Snow chirped with palpable relief.
"She is," Emma replied. She took another breath. "And, well, she came back to Storybooke to find a family that would adopt her baby. She actually had someone in mind," she finished, looking at them pointedly and hoping they'd figure it out.
"Wait," David sputtered. "You two? You're adopting her baby?"
"We are!" Killian exclaimed, unable to contain his pride and excitement any longer. "A little lass!"
Emma grinned at Killian's radiant joy and then smiled even wider when she saw the happiness on her father's face as he hugged her and then stepped over to embrace Killian. Finally, she turned towards her mom, just in time to catch her as she threw herself at Emma for a hug.
"Oh, Emma," she cried, "that's amazing, so wonderful." She pulled back and looked at Emma. Tears were already beginning to stream down Snow's face, but she paid them no mind as she began to pepper them with questions.
After being satisfied with the first batch of answers, Snow finally released Emma and flung her arms around her son-in-law.
"It's so exciting," she breathed. "I'm just, so, so happy for all of you."
Hope and Neal entered the room then. Henry hung back in the family room, presumably texting and avoiding another mushy scene. Neal sauntered over to David and leaned on his legs. Hope was intercepted by her grandmother, who scooped her up and squeezed her tight.
"Did you hear how we're buying a baby, Grandma?" Hope asked. Emma snorted, and Snow chuckled through her tears.
"Adopting, love," Killian corrected.
Hope rolled her eyes and continued to hug her grandma. Finally she said, "Can we eat? I'm starving."
David and Snow dished up everyone's plates while Emma and Killian got the kids' drinks and settled them in their booster seats around the Nolan's large kitchen table. Dinner was as lively (and messy) as it usually was with an almost-four and five year old, and Emma tried to mentally prepare herself for going back to the days of high chairs and baby food. Killian must have caught her pensive expression, because he reached over and squeezed her hand in comfort, always reminding her that they were in this together.
Later, David, Henry, and Killian played in the family room with the little ones while Emma and Snow stayed in the kitchen. Emma could tell that her mom wanted to talk more, and the guys had been gracious enough to distract the kids so that she and Snow could have a quiet moment.
Emma watched as Snow puttered around by the stove making steaming mugs of hot chocolate for both of them, going to the fridge to pull out the whipped cream she kept on hand especially for Emma. She wondered what was on her mother's mind, and she guiltily found herself bracing herself for an emotional conversation.
For Emma and Snow, the transition from being friends to being daughter and mother had been awkward. When they'd met, they were equals and fast friends, and Emma hadn't minded being the target for Mary Margaret's natural instinct to nurture. When they found out the truth, however, guilt and a need to make up for lost time had kicked Snow's mothering instincts into high gear. Snow's attempts to advise Emma, to worry over her, to mother her had caused Emma to retreat.
Compounding the challenge between them was the ease with which Emma had adjusted to being David's daughter. The moment she learned that he was her father, the relationship had just clicked. David was a source of comfort and wisdom, and he always shared these gifts with a relaxed sense of humor that was completely in tune with Emma's.
Then she had met Killian. Killian who could read her feelings and moods as surely as he could read the stars while charting a course on the sea. Killian who was her partner and best friend and her forever home.
The truth was, she just hadn't needed her mother that much, and Snow had found other subjects who needed her mothering skills more than Emma did.
Things got better when Hope was born. Emma felt herself soften to Snow's needs, and the truth was that she did welcome the help and advice from someone who had recently had a baby of her own. These days, their relationship was the best it had ever been, but it still took work.
Snow finished preparing the drinks and sat down at the table close to Emma.
"It's amazing the way life comes full circle sometimes, isn't it?" Snow mused, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Emma gently blew on her cocoa and nodded, knowing that her mother had more to say.
Snow took a breath before continuing. "Emma, I'm so sorry for the childhood that you had. I know that you grew up feeling unwanted, and I will never forgive myself for that. It's just..." she paused, fighting tears, and Emma's heart twisted for her. "It's so incredible that you get to help another little girl. You get to be her hero and give her a home. I'm so, so very proud of you."
Emma reached out and squeezed her mother's hand. Her throat was thick with emotion, but she forced herself to keep her voice level. "Mom, the way I grew up was not your fault. Please, I wish you could find a way to stop blaming yourself for being forced to make an impossible choice." She sighed. "And I know that I haven't always been the most forgiving and understanding of you, but I understand now. And I forgave you a long time ago."
Snow smiled through her tears and nodded, unable to speak.
"And yeah," Emma continued. "This adoption does kind of feel like an opportunity to make up for what happened to me. And for what I had to do with Henry." Her voice cracked on the last part and she took another deep breath to steady herself. "I just feel so grateful, and proud, that I've been able to build the kind of family that Winifred would want her baby to be a part of. And I have you and Dad to thank for showing me what it really means to be a family."
Two tears streamed down Emma's own face now as her mom leaned forward in her chair and embraced her. The two women hugged and cried for a few seconds before Snow spoke again.
"Emma, I wish I could take credit for the person you became. But you figured so much out on your own. You had to," she said, leaning back to look at her daughter and stroke her cheek, wiping away the wetness there.
Emma stayed quiet. They both knew there was truth in Snow's words.
"We're just so proud of you, and we're overjoyed that you found someone who truly loves you and who fights for your love and your family as hard as David and I always fought for ours."
Emma smiled, craning her neck and listening to Killian do a disturbingly accurate impression of evil Mayor Humdinger as Chase (Neal) and Marshall (Hope) giggled uncontrollably.
"And we'll be here for you guys, as always," Snow continued. "If you need us to take Hope at all, or pick her up from school while you do doctor's appointments – are you doing the doctor's appointments?"
Emma nodded.
"Okay, great. And when she goes into labor, are you going to be in the delivery room?"
"Um, maybe," Emma replied hesitantly, "We haven't really gotten that far yet."
"You should do some research because I think I read that skin to skin contact with the adoptive mother can help the bonding experi-" she stopped, seeming to notice Emma's raised eyebrow and realize that she was talking a mile a minute.
"Sorry," Snow continued with a wince. "I know this all just came up for you guys. I don't mean to bombard you with questions and advice."
Emma tamped down the bit of annoyance she had felt. She smiled warmly and reached across the the table to take her mother's hand and squeeze it. "It's okay, Mom," she said. "Those are really good ideas and questions. Killian and I have half a dozen lists of things we need to figure out and do. I'll add the skin to skin contact question."
Snow smiled with relief, and Emma softened even more, happy that her mother was happy she could help.
They chatted for a while as they sipped their cocoa; not just about babies but about the town and the upcoming holidays. Emma had offered to host Thanksgiving this year (The Nolans and Regina had alternated having it for the past few years) and Snow offered to take the hosting duties back in light of Emma and Killian's news.
"Nope. He still wants to do it," Emma replied with a smile. "He's intent on his turkey 'besting all previous game birds in both flavor and texture,'" she added in her best Killian accent.
Snow laughed. "Well, I'm still planning on bringing the yams. Let me know how else I can help. With anything." She added the last part with a hopeful, almost shy look at Emma.
Emma was overcome with affection for her mother. This sweet woman who was just born to give, even if it meant sacrifice. She felt the the prick of tears in her eyes as she picked up Snow's hand and squeezed it again.
"I will, Mom. Thanks."
The next few weeks were a blur of activity for Emma and her family.
They immediately went to work on the nursery, getting rid of the old desk, rug, and bookshelves. They scrubbed it from top to bottom and gave it a coat of soft lavender paint. In town, they found a soft, oval rug with a pattern of flowers in tones of blue, pink, yellow, and light green. Killian and Henry spent a Saturday morning cleaning and reassembling Hope's white wooden crib. Piece by piece, the office started to transform into an adorable nursery.
By all accounts, Henry's Astronomy Club stargazing cruise with Captain Jones was a success. When they came home to Emma and Hope, Killian gushed about what quick studies the students were, and how he would make navigators out of all of them. Henry admitted that the evening had been pretty cool, if a bit freezing.
Later that night, under threat of tickles and other physical tortures, Killian admitted to Emma that Henry and Violet had held hands whenever they thought he wasn't looking (and whenever they weren't busy using their sextants to practice navigation.)
The day of Winifred's ultrasound brought with it a tangle of emotions for Emma and Killian. They were both nervous about how the girl would react to seeing her baby on the monitor. Even though Winifred had ultrasounds before, Emma knew that they were truly at the point in the pregnancy where the pictures of the baby really looked like a baby. She wondered whether that might make the upcoming birth and adoption more real and more painful for Winifred.
When they entered the room where the ultrasound would take place, Dr. Whale and Winifred were both ready to get started.
"Hey, it's the Swan-Joneses," Whale greeted them in his typical smug tone. "Welcome to the ultrasound. Hope you guys continue to have better luck hanging onto babies than the rest of your family has."
Emma rolled her eyes.
Killian scowled.
"Oh hush," Winifred scolded the platinum haired doctor. "They're going to be great!" She smiled warmly and enthusiastically at Emma and Killian.
"Of course they are," Whale replied smoothly as he made sure Winifred was covered from the waist down, then lifted her gown and squeezed gel onto her protruding bump. "I just love to tease the Charming-Nolan-Swan-Joneses whenever I get the chance. I mean, look at them. They're too good looking and all heroic and stuff. You have to bring people like that down a couple of pegs any chance you get," He winked at Killian and then emptied the rest of the gel bottle onto Winifred with an audible "squirt" before grabbing the transducer.
Emma was next to Winifred's bed, but Killian had hung back by the doorway. Emma could tell that he felt awkward about being in the room for such an intimate procedure with a young woman he'd just met. But Winifred was not okay with his reticence.
"Killian, come on in," she called to him. "It's okay. You should get a good spot close to the monitor so you can see your baby."
Killian nodded shyly and gratefully and walked a few steps to stand next to Emma, up near the head of the bed and directly across from the monitor. Emma grabbed his hook as a comfort to both of them.
She was in awe of Winifred's bravery and her openness in welcoming them into this process.
Dr. Whale muttered to himself as he moved the transducer over Winifred's belly. He turned up the volume on the equipment so that they could hear the baby's heartbeat.
"Nice and strong," he said confidently, back in serious doctor mode.
Whale continued to move the transducer until he was satisfied with the image, and he snapped a few pictures. He used one of the frozen images to take measurements of the baby: her head circumference, arms and legs, and total length. He explained what he was doing and assured them that her growth was right on track for 32 weeks.
Emma's heart had started racing as soon as she had heard the heartbeat, and she squeezed Killian tight as she watched Dr. Whale complete the ultrasound.
This was really real. There was an actual, tiny person in there that was going to be their daughter.
Emma looked down to meet the gaze of the girl who was giving them this amazing gift. Winifred was looking up at her hopefully, almost as if she was seeking approval, making sure that all this was still okay.
Lacking the words to tell her how truly incredible and awe inspiring this was, Emma reached out with her free hand and took one of Winfred's. Emma smiled through the tears that had formed in her eyes and nodded her head as if to say, "This is perfect."
Killian and Emma offered to drive Winifred back to the convent. They all chatted easily on the ride, mostly about New York and Winifred's plans when she returned. As they said their goodbyes, Emma spontaneously invited the girl to join them at their house for Thanksgiving. Winifred seemed surprised, but then she happily agreed.
"Just open it up again and look. You know you want to," Emma teased.
Killian turned from his crouched position in front of the oven to look back at her with a slight scowl but with mirth in his eyes.
"I've no need to open the oven, love," he retorted. "I am perfectly confident that the bird is cooking to golden brown perfection."
Emma laughed at his pompous (and fake) overconfidence. Killian would never admit it to anyone but her, but he was still, after all this time, working to gain her parents' approval. No matter how many times that Emma assured him that they loved him, and that all that mattered was that he made her happy, he still held a reserve of insecurity about his past. She could see it flash across his eyes any time one of the kids asked about David's parents, or any time it came up that Snow had been the rightful queen of her realm.
If there had been no curse, if Snow had become queen and raised Emma in a castle, Emma would have gone on to marry a prince or someone with a royal pedigree at least. Her stomach always clenched with anxiety at the thought. What a bullet she dodged. As painful as everything she went through was, she came out the other side with her perfect partner, her true love.
Her true love...who was still alternatively squinting through the oven glass at the bird and rising to look up at the clock on the stove top to see if it was time to baste again. Clearly, his current plan to ingratiate himself with her parents was to present the best damn Thanksgiving turkey they had ever seen.
And it wasn't just her parents he wanted to impress today. Winifred's presence at their holiday feast was an added bit of pressure. They were thrilled that she was joining them, but they both wanted to make sure that she had a good time and that she left feeling even more confident in them as her baby's parents.
Killian had channeled all his nervous energy into planning the menu and perfecting the main course. Earlier in the week, he had scoured YouTube in search of the best method of preparing the turkey and had settled on brining it the night before in a giant pot that took up most of the fridge.
"Killian, just let it be for a while. It will be great," she advised. "I'm going to get the rest of these potatoes peeled. Why don't you enlist Hope to help set the table?"
"Aye, love," he replied with a sudden glint in his eye. "Grand idea!"
She heard him cajole Hope away from the TV during a commercial break (she was watching the Macy's parade, anxiously awaiting the appearance of Santa.) Emma's back was to them as she peeled potatoes, and Killian was speaking softly to their daughter as they worked. Emma could tell that they were up to something.
Just as Emma finished placing the potatoes into the pot of boiling water, she heard little footsteps behind her. She turned to see Hope, quite festive in an orange jumper over a white long sleeve shirt and wooly, bright yellow tights, beaming at her from the doorway.
"Mommy!" she exclaimed. "We have a surprise for you on the table!" Hope's voice copied the singsong tone her parents took on whenever they surprised her with something.
Emma grinned as she turned to scoop up her daughter. "You do?" she cried. "Whatever could it be?"
With an impish grin, Hope turned and pointed at the dining room table by the front windows, which Emma could see was now fully set for a Thanksgiving meal. As a finishing touch, the cream colored cloth napkins had been folded into the shape of swans.
"Swans?" Emma cried, carrying Hope over to the table, by which Killian stood proudly. "Is that for me?"
"Yep!" Hope replied.
Emma snuggled her close and kissed her cheek, ear, and neck. Hope cuddled her back, until they heard Al Roker announce that Santa's sleigh was riding into Herald Square, at which point Hope jumped out of Emma's arms and onto the floor. She scampered across the room to the TV to get a look at Santa.
Emma rolled her eyes and then turned to Killian. "Very elegant, thank you," she said, gesturing to the table.
"Ah, yes, well that YouTube is quite something," he replied, scratching behind his ear.
"You're quite something," she told him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and smiling at his blush.
Snow, David, Neal, and Winifred arrived in a flurry of hugs and casserole dishes a short time later. Winifred and Snow had clearly hit it off and were chatting and sharing inside jokes like old friends. Hope greeted her uncle and grandparents politely, but her attention was devoted to Winifred as the young woman took of her coat and exposed her ample belly.
Emma watched as Winifred noticed Hope's gaze. Winifred smiled warmly and reached down to shake hands.
"It is so nice to meet you in person, Hope," she said. "A real honor. And you're going to be a big sister!"
Hope smiled and reached up to shake hands back. "Is that the baby?" she asked, pointing to Winifred's bump.
"Yep!" Winifred replied proudly. "She's in there baking," she added with a sly grin.
"Baking!?" Hope cried. "Like the turkey!" She started to giggle uncontrollably at her own joke, and Winifred laughed back.
With that, Winifred and Hope became easy friends. While she and Killian got their guests settled, Emma watched out of the corner of her eye as her daughter led the young woman around the living room, pointing out her favorite books and toys.
"Mom," Hope piped up when Emma returned from the kitchen. "Can Neal and I show Winifred my room?"
Emma hesitated. She loved that Hope was being so warm and welcoming, but a trip to Hope's room would mean passing by the work-in-process nursery. Suddenly, Emma wondered whether inviting Winifred here was a mistake. Would it be too painful for her to see the home where her child would grow up? Would being here with two adorable kids and seeing a the perfectly cute little girl décor of Hope's bedroom make her have second thoughts about whether she was ready to be a mom?
Emma looked at Winifred and saw the hesitation on her face. Emma resolved that they should take it slow.
"Maybe after we eat, sweetie," Emma said to Hope. She caught the flash of relief that crossed Winifred's face.
"Hey kids, do you know what time it is?" David piped up cheerfully, breaking the tension as only he could.
Everyone turned to him expectantly.
"Turkey Bowl time!" he replied with a grin.
"Oh, bloody hell," Killian muttered.
"Come on, son," David replied. "It's Pirates versus Princes, round three. It's a tradition!"
After Killian kissed his wife and made her promise to look after his bird, he and David took Hope and Neal out to the side yard and marked off a makeshift gridiron with odds and ends from the yard and shed. They used an old, junior-sized football of Henry's that languished in the shed for the other 364 days each year. Killian always complained that he still couldn't make sense of American football (although he had taken to the European version rather well) but David insisted every year that they follow a non-magical world Thanksgiving tradition and play.
Emma watched from the kitchen windows after she checked on dinner. She could hear Snow and Winifred chatting away out in the living room.
Emma laughed out loud as she watched Killian and Hope, on offense, run a play against David and Neal. Upon calling "hike" Killian immediately picked up the ball and handed it to his tiny daughter. Then, he picked her up and began to run towards the end zone, bobbing and weaving in a crazy pattern as Hope laughed hysterically. David and Neal tried but couldn't catch them. The look on father and daughter's faces as they hugged and celebrated in the end zone did all kinds of wonderful things to Emma's heart.
She was so distracted by the scene that she didn't realize that Winifred had come up beside her and was watching out the window as well.
"Oh, hey," Emma said, turning to the girl. "Are you doing all right? What can I get you?"
"Oh, I'm totally fine!" Winifred replied. She glanced out the window again and smiled. Emma's heart twisted as she saw the sadness in it.
She reached down and took Winifred's hand.
"It's okay," Emma told the girl. "Nobody said this was easy. Trust me. It hurts. But if you feel in your heart that it's the right thing, it does get lot better."
"I know, I just..." Winifred turned toward Emma but kept her eyes downcast. "I thought this, seeing your family, would make it better. And I think that, eventually, it will. But I've never really had a family outside the convent, and being here today is just making me feel like I really missed something." She dabbed at her eyes.
"I'm really sorry," she added hastily, finally looking up and seeing the concern on Emma's face. "I'm not having second thoughts or anything. I know I'm not ready to have a kid. I have too much I want to do. This is just really, really nice."
A lump had formed in Emma's throat. She related to this girl so much. Unlike Winifred, she hadn't had big dreams when she was a teenager; she was just trying to survive. But, she totally understood never having had a real family and the powerful need to feel like she belonged. She squeezed the girl's hand again.
"It's okay, there's no need to be sorry. I get it," Emma said firmly. "We just want you to be comfortable with your choice, and we're here to help however we can."
"I know," Winifred said. Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly. Both women burst out laughing.
"Sounds like I can help by feeding you both!" Emma laughed.
"Yes, I'm totally blaming that on the baby," Winifred replied with a grin.
Just then, Emma heard the sounds of Regina, Zelena, Henry and little Robin's arrival. She brought Winifred out to the foyer and made introductions as Henry dealt with everyone's coats and Snow brought the pies Regina had made back to the kitchen.
Emma had warned Winifred that Regina and her sister could be prickly, but the two women were on their best behavior. They sat and chatted warmly with Winifred and Snow while Henry and Robin went to join the football game outside.
Emma had just taken the turkey out and replaced it with the yams and a broccoli casserole, both of which needed warming, when Killian burst through the back door with Hope perched on his right shoulder. She held onto her dad's neck with one arm but pumped her other fist in the air victoriously.
"I take it the Pirates won?" Emma noted.
"Aye, of course!" Killian replied. "We have the fastest, wiliest runner in all of sport!" He set Hope down on the floor, and the two of them high fived. The others filed in after them. David looked disgruntled as he helped the kids remove their boots.
"Everyone, go wash up," Emma said. "We're about ready to eat!"
As David and Henry took the other kids to the downstairs bathroom, Killian quickly washed his hand and rubber-stoppered hook in the kitchen sink and then hurried to look at the turkey, golden and resplendent in its roasting pan.
"Ah, it's done?" he asked Emma. "I was so caught up in our match that I would have let it burn!"
"It's called a football game, not match, babe," Emma teased. "But yes, I saved your precious bird from drying out. I think it looks great!"
Killian sighed with relief, but Emma was amused to find that he looked a little disappointed in himself.
"Killian, you did all the hard stuff. The overnight brining and the dressing and tying and basting. I'll make sure my parents know how hard you worked," she said with a bit of a teasing tone.
He smiled at her, but he looked a little abashed. "No, love," he said. "It was a team effort. Like always." He leaned down and sweetly kissed her forehead.
Suddenly, she felt the tears welling again. Everything that she had felt while talking with Winifred came back to her. Sometimes, for Emma, the contrast between the despair of her younger years and the warm fulfillment of her current life was just too much for her. It overwhelmed her emotions.
Killian pulled back and looked at her with worry. Then he glanced into the living room at Winifred, who was perched on the couch with her feet up on a footstool. She looked relaxed and was now chatting with Henry.
"Everything okay with her, then?" Killian asked, looking back at Emma.
"I think so. I's just a lot," she replied thickly.
Killian reached up and gently wiped at her tears with his thumb. Emma took a deep breath and felt her emotions begin to calm down.
She sighed and surveyed the kitchen, the countertops of which were covered in dishes that needed to be served. "I'll fill you in on Winifred later. Right now, we have to feed this crew or else we'll have a mutiny on our hands, Captain."
Emma and Killian's dining table sat six adults comfortably; eight if they really squeezed. So Killian and Henry had set up a little card table with four chairs around it for Neal, Hope, and Robin. Emma and Killian had planned to take turns sitting with the little ones to help them cut their food an clean up messes. Henry, though, being the gentleman that he was, wouldn't hear of it and offered to sit with the kids so that the grown ups could relax and enjoy the feast.
Dinner was raucous but fun. The food was delicious. Snow, David, and Winifred gushed over the turkey, and even Regina grudgingly admitted that it was one of the best ever.
Everyone chatted warmly and took care to include Winifred in the conversation, making sure they filled in the necessary family history or backstory if it was needed to understand whatever anecdote was being shared. Quite often, one of the little ones would hop up from the kids' table in order to swipe another roll, or, in Neal's case, try to scoop some marshmallows off the yams.
At some point, the conversation turned to magic, with Zelena proudly noting that Robin had learned to control the lights in their house with just her magic.
Hope must have overheard, because she suddenly piped up, "I can do that!"
Suddenly, the whole house went dark. Thankfully, it was only mid-afternoon, so despite the overcast November skies, there was still a dim glow coming in through the windows.
"That's wonderful, darling," Killian praised. "But would you mind turning them back on so that we can see our plates?"
In the low light, Emma could see Hope scrunch up her face. "Ummmm...I don't think I can..." she conceded.
"Okay, no problem, sweetie," Emma said. She and Killian then apologized to their guests and jumped up to turn the lights back on.
"Well, that's still a work in process then," Regina noted smugly as they sat back down. She'd always been critical of Emma's lack of discipline when it came to magical training. The truth was, Emma just didn't see the need to use hers on a day to day basis. When bad stuff came up, she used her magic. But most days, she didn't even think about it.
"She's not even four yet, Regina," Emma said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
"Still, she has quite a bit of power," Zelena interjected. "You'll want to make sure she can really control it. Especially now."
Emma stiffened, thinking of the incident at Hope's preschool and little Aidan's injury. She glanced at Winifred. The girl looked nonplussed. The talk of magic clearly didn't bother her. She was a fairy after all. She'd been around magic all her life. Still, Emma wanted to make sure she knew that her baby would be safe.
"I'm training her," Emma said firmly. She glanced at Hope, who was watching and listening from the kids' table. Emma gave her daughter a bright smile. "She does an amazing job keeping her magic under control for someone so young."
"Aye, that she does," Killian added. "We're rather proud of her." He grinned cheekily at Hope, and she grinned back.
With that, the tension was diffused and the subject changed. The rest of the afternoon was relaxed, as the now sleepy crew took a break from eating to play a silly game of charades before dessert.
Before dusk fell, everyone moved to take their leave. Emma and Killian worked in the kitchen to pack up leftover containers for Regina, Zelena, David and Snow. There would still be plenty of food for the Swan-Joneses if they fancied turkey and all it's accoutrements at any time over the next few days. Emma was already dreaming about sneaking downstairs with Killian for a late night turkey sandwich.
David and Snow were taking Winifred back to the convent. Before she left, she knelt down and offered her hand to Hope.
"It was really nice to meet you, Hope," Winifred said. "I'm so glad the baby is going to have you for a big sister."
Hope beamed, and after a nod from Emma, she wrapped her arms around Winifred's neck in a warm hug.
Emma and Killian each hugged the young woman goodbye. As she pulled back, Winifred squeezed Emma's arms and said simply, "Thank you."
The simple words and her firm, resolved expression were enough to tell Emma that she was still all in. That she believed this choice was still her baby's best chance.
Emma nodded and smiled, trying to pack in all the affection and gratitude she felt in return. The girl squeezed Emma's arms once more, quietly telling her that she understood.
After all of their guests had left, Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope settled in for a relatively quiet evening of cleanup and leftovers.
By Sunday afternoon the house and kitchen had returned to its (okay, slightly messy) order. Henry had gone back to Regina's to spend Sunday dinner and the early part of the following week there. Killian was out in the shed searching for another box of Christmas lights and decorations that Emma had sworn they put there last year.
Emma and Hope were at the kitchen table. Hope's face was scrunched up in concentration, and she was staring at a pink plastic cup with about an inch of water in it.
"Just relax, sweetie," Emma said quietly. "Do the best you can. If it doesn't work, no big deal!"
Hope huffed in frustration. "I'm trying, Mom. I wanna make it swirl like the sand, but it won't do it. I think it's too heavy."
"Okay. That's all right, Hope," Emma consoled her. "Take a break. Do you want to get out some paints or something?"
"Okay!" Hope replied brightly.
The little girl relaxed visibly as she directed Emma on what paint set and paper she wanted. Emma set it all up at the kitchen table and helped her daughter roll up the sleeves of her turtleneck. Hope immediately went to work on a green blob that she declared was the Christmas tree they were going to cut down this week.
Emma smiled as she watched her and tried not to worry that their magic lesson hadn't been a success. She'd thought that asking Hope to do something similar to what she had inadvertently done in preschool would work. However, she knew why it hadn't. Making water swirl around in a cup could be mildly cool, but the emotion it would engender was nothing compared to Hope's need for justice when Aidan had stolen all the cars in the sand table at school.
The truth was, Hope was just like Emma. She could use her magic when her feelings were stirred up, like the incident at school, or when she felt she needed to prove herself at Thanksgiving by turning off the lights. When there were no stakes though, she just couldn't conjure it.
Emma thought back to her own training and winced when she remembered being subjected to Regina's methods. The former queen had inspired Emma's magic by yelling at her or causing her to fear for her life by making bridges give way beneath her feet. There was no way that Emma was going to use such practices on a child.
She considered going to Zelena for help, but the two had never been close, and she just wasn't ready to resort to that yet.
Her musings were interrupted when the front door flung open and Killian half stumbled in, a dirty rag held to his forehead.
"Daddy!" Hope cried.
"Oh, Killian," Emma said, immediately running to him.
"I'm fine, ladies. Just a bit of a mishap with a ladder and the edge of the workbench," he assured them. "I just need Mommy's magic hands, and I'll be right as rain."
Emma frowned and reached up to gently cover his hand, which was still holding the towel on his forehead, with her own. She gave him a little nod to say "okay?" and he nodded back. She gently pulled on his hand and winced at the blood that immediately started to pool in the gash on the left side of his forehead.
"It's okay," Emma breathed, although it looked pretty nasty. "I can work with that. Just sit down and let me clean it before I heal it, just to be safe."
She led him to kitchen table and sat him down across from Hope who was staring at him with a deep frown.
"I'm fine, lass," he assured his little girl. "Nothing Mommy can't fix in a heartbeat."
"How did you hurt it?" Hope asked worriedly. She got out of her chair and came around the table so that she could climb up in the chair next to him. She rested there on her knees and craned her neck to look at his wound.
"Yeah, what the heck happened?" Emma echoed as she walked back in the room. She had run to the bathroom to grab a clean, soft washcloth and antibiotic ointment. Now, she gestured for Killian to turn his chair so that he faced her, and she gently wiped away some blood with the washcloth in preparation for cleaning and disinfecting the wound itself. She'd be able to heal it, but she was fuzzy on the antibiotic properties of magic. The shed and the rag Killian had used to staunch the bleeding were both pretty dirty, so it was better to be safe than sorry.
"When I was looking for the decorations, I noticed that there was a small hole in the roof of the shed," he explained. "I didn't want rain or snow to leak in and damage anything, and I thought could board it up from the inside. I simply got the nail started in the board before I climbed the ladder so that the nail would stay in one spot. Unfortunately, in maneuvering to hold the board in place with my wrist and trying to hammer accurately, I lost my balance on the ladder and fell. Right onto the corner of the workbench."
"Ouch," Hope observed.
"Yes, ouch!" he chuckled. His eyes were downcast, looking only at Hope, and his smile held a touch of embarrassment.
Emma's heart ached for him. Her husband was so good at so many things that she often forgot about his physical disadvantage. It almost never limited him. However, his capability also made him overconfident, and this time it had gotten him hurt. It had been on the tip of her tongue to admonish him for trying to work on the roof himself rather than getting her or waiting until Henry was home.
Instead, she adopted a breezy tone and said, "You'll just have to try again tomorrow, babe. If you want, Hope and I can hold the ladder for you."
He finally looked up to meet her eyes, and he smiled softly.
"Yep! I can help!" Hope piped in.
Emma smiled at her and finished applying the ointment to Killian's wound. "Okay, just give me a sec to get this gunk of my fingers and I'll heal it right up," she said. She turned to walk towards the sink.
It was only a second or two later that she saw a white glow out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see that Hope had climbed into Killian's lap and pressed her hand gently against his injury. Incredibly, her tiny hand emitted the familiar glow of magic, pure and white, just like Emma's.
Killian was staring at his daughter with unbridled awe and affection. He had wrapped his arms around her little waist and submitted himself to her work with complete trust.
When she pulled her hand away, his forehead was unblemished.
"All done!" Hope said proudly.
Killian grinned and reached up to touch his forehead. "Well done, love!" he cried proudly. "It doesn't even hurt!"
Emma came closer to them. She placed a proud hand on Hope's shoulder and reached out with her other hand to gently graze Killian's perfect forehead.
"Well, what do you know?" Emma said finally, allowing herself to break into a grin. She leaned down and pressed a kiss onto Hope's head. "Nice work, Kiddo!"
"Thank, Mom!" Hope replied proudly.
Killian cleared his throat. "You know, I'm the one that was injured." He raised his eyes sweetly and craned his neck so that his head was in kissing range.
Emma laughed and leaned down to kiss the middle of his forehead. He gave her his cheekiest grin and then, with Hope still on his lap, he turned his chair back to the table. He made a show of inspecting his daughter's artwork.
"What were you painting, love?" he asked Hope. "Wait. Is this our Christmas tree?"
"It is, Daddy!" Hope replied proudly.
Emma sighed as she watched them. She tried to resign herself that she had already known the answer on how to spur Hope's magic. There was just no easy way to control the emotions of a preschooler. However, she was proud and grateful that her daughter seemed to be most inspired by the need to do what was right for the people she loved.
They could work with that.