Emma

Chapter 11

Felicity drove into the ranch, down the dirt path, past the corrals and the stables, and stopped a few meters away from the familiar country home where she had spent most of her growing up years. Near the cluster of trees, the faux well, which carried the sign "Queen Ranch," was still there. Yet, a new addition to the site caused a small smile to form on her lips. The well had become part of a larger, more colorful scene – that of a kid's playground, complete with a Little Tykes slide, a sandbox, and a swing hanging from a thick branch of one of the sturdier trees. The play area was a testament to the many changes she believed Emma had brought into the lives of the people that lived there, the people whom she once considered her family.

As she got out of her car, someone just as familiar approached from the stables behind her. "Hey, stranger!" the man called out.

Felicity turned to see if indeed the voice had come from the dark-skinned, kind-hearted man that she had always considered her older brother from another mother when she was growing up. John Diggle had been with the Queens since she and Oliver were in middle school. She wasn't surprised to see that John was still working in the ranch. He was a faithful worker, and the Queens had treated him like family, in the same way she and her mother had been treated.

"Hey, John," she greeted him with a shy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She wasn't sure how much he knew of what had happened seven years ago. She didn't know how he had taken her disappearance from their lives. John was smiling at her as he walked up to her, however, and she took that as a positive sign.

"I thought I'd never see you again around here. Glad I thought wrong," John said to her as he removed his working gloves to shake her hand. He had meant to give her a warm hug, but her body language made him think that she was not ready for that sort of thing. "It's good to see you, Felicity," he added as they shook hands.

"It's good to see you too, John" she acknowledged. It was the truth, and she was happy that the first thing she did get to do when she arrived at the ranch was to say something that was honest. She hoped nothing would happen that day that would force her to do or say otherwise.

"What brings you back?" John asked.

"I, uh… I was told that a little girl named Emma had something very important to ask me," Felicity replied, the trepidation evident in her voice. "Is she home?"

John smiled, being proud of her for taking this big leap of faith after all this time. He looked at his wristwatch and said, "Her bus should drop her off in about… ten minutes or so. But Oliver's in the house. He's cooking up something for Emma to snack on when she arrives. That little girl has some appetite. Reminds me of a girl I used to know." He winked at her.

This time, Felicity smiled sincerely. She was happy about three things. One, her friend obviously was truly happy to see her and welcome her back. Two, her daughter seemed to have inherited her appetite. And three, Oliver had learned how to cook and now knows his way around the kitchen. He had never had any interest in food except to consume anything that Raisa, the family's housekeeper, prepared. Maybe the wonderful motherly lady was no longer around, she thought.

"Why don't you go on ahead? You can wait for Emma inside. I have some work left to do in the stables," John told her, pointing his chin in the direction of the house.

Felicity nodded and said, "Thanks."

John walked away as Felicity made her way toward the house. When she reached the front porch, she took a deep breath before walking up the few steps. If someone were to ask her, she couldn't describe exactly how she felt. There was nostalgia, and a pleasant wave of fondness. But there were also pangs of pain, regret, and fear that grew stronger inside her with every step she took until she opened the screen door and the front door that led into the living room.

She scanned the room and observed that nothing much had changed. The colors of the throw pillows and the throw blankets on the couches had changed, but the furniture and the layout of the room remained almost exactly as she last saw them. She turned to her right, where she knew the den was. It was her most favorite room in the house, next to the guest room (which Moira had renovated for Felicity when Donna Smoak passed away and the Queens had taken her in to live with them). She wondered what had become of her old room. She loved that room. It had plenty of memories. Memories that she did not want to conjure up at the moment, or ever. She was here for one thing, and one thing only – to answer Emma's question as best she can, and then leave.

She stepped into the den, and her heart fluttered. The spinet piano was still there, albeit looking a little worse for wear, but having more photographs on it. She noticed that all of the photographs in frames included Emma. There were pictures of her solo as she was growing up, and there were pictures of her with Moira, Oliver, Thea, Tommy, and even John. The bean bags were new, but they were placed in the same spot near the sheepskin rug. She remembered how she and Oliver used to spend hours lounging in the den on the old bean bags, listening and singing along to their favorite hit songs. They had made beautiful music together back then, with him playing the guitar and her on the piano. They'd even written a few original songs. She wondered if those lyric sheets were still in the seat of the piano where they used to keep them.

Felicity took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that pooled in her eyes. She needed some air. So, she turned around to leave and get some fresh air out on the porch while she waited for Emma. But when she stepped out into the living room, Oliver also emerged from the kitchen and was stunned to see her there.

"Felicity?" he breathed out. He stared at her in disbelief, forgetting that he was still holding a dish towel in one hand and a pink tumbler in the other.

"Hello, Oliver." She sighed, as she smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on her dress.

Felicity would have been overcome by nervousness at the awkward scenario, but she wasn't. She was more amused by his domesticated appearance. He looked nice with his denim jeans and round-necked navy Henley; however, she couldn't help but smile as she stared at the pink, ruffled apron with pony and unicorn prints, the size and style of which looked like it belonged to the youngest member of the household.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked.

"Well, you and Emma came to see me at STAR Labs. I was told that she had something important to ask me, so… here I am," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. She wasn't sure how he was taking her sudden appearance.

"Took you a month to figure that out," he said. It wasn't a question.

It was more like an accusation. Felicity wasn't dense. She could feel the angst in the air. He was angry. She really couldn't blame him for thinking that way. She understood, and she knew this might happen. She had repeatedly told herself that she would not engage him in case he reacted this way to her presence after how she'd refused to see them in Central City. After all, he wasn't the reason she was here. She had promised herself that she wasn't going to let this – whatever Oliver had to say – interfere with her intention of settling things with Emma.

Still, his words stung. And she wondered why it hurt so much when she had repeatedly told herself for the past years, like a mantra, that she was over Oliver Queen. It seemed that hadn't worked.

In an attempt to deflect his attention from her to her mission, she told him, "John said she'll be here in a few minutes. I hope you don't mind me waiting for her in here? But if you do mind, I could just wait out there in the car." She pointed her thumb in the direction of her car outside, making a move to step outside.

But something shifted in his eyes, and the cold, hardened expression on his face softened as she moved away. There was a hint of remorse mixed with earnestness as he said, "No, wait. It's okay. Emma will be home any minute. You can… sit here and wait." He swallowed hard, as if wondering what he was saying and why. It was as if his mouth and his heart had a special understanding, and had agreed to ignore completely what his mind was trying so hard to resist. "What can I get you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I had a late lunch Carly's Diner on the way here. They still make amazing burgers and milkshakes," she answered with a mild chuckle. She was trying to avert his gaze. She could feel him looking her over even as she looked away, pretending to fancy the room. His gaze was warmer and a little more affectionate this time, though she tried to deny it with all her might.

"I just pulled out a batch of blueberry muffins from the oven. And I'm making fresh lemonade. Are you sure you don't want to try some?"

She grinned involuntarily. She still felt awkward and anxious around him, but she had to admit, she was impressed. He baked now, and he made fresh lemonade instead of buying cartons of his favorite fruit juice like he always did in the past. Emma's presence in his life had done him a world of good.

"O—kay… Guess I'll try one of your muffins and a glass of cold lemonade," she replied, "and thank you." She meant more than just being grateful for the refreshments, and she hoped he got the message.

Oliver disappeared into the kitchen. Felicity sat on the cushioned rocking chair between the two couches. That was her mother's favorite chair in the Queen house. She closed her eyes and sat back, as she remembered Donna fondly. If her mom were alive, she would be proud of her for not running away from this mess and facing it head-on at last. As she began to rock while reminiscing the countless times that she and her mother had spent in this house, she did not notice the arrival of the little girl that she was waiting for.

Emma ran up the steps of the front porch. She pushed the screen door open and dropped her school bag on the floor. "Ollie!" she called out.

Her loud, enthusiastic voice startled Felicity and broke her out of her reminiscences. Felicity instantly opened her eyes and sprang up. Upon seeing Emma near the doorway, she gasped in surprise.

"Uhm… Hello, Emma."

The little girl stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened when she recognized who the stranger in the rocking chair was. "Oh… It's you."

Felicity stood up slowly and offered her a small, tentative smile. "Yeah, it's me," she said. She took a deep breath and continued, "I'm ready for that talk now. I hope you still are?"

They looked straight into each other's identical eyes, attempting to read sincerity in them. Felicity wondered if the little girl could see past the nervousness she was feeling and into her soul, where her honest intentions lay. Try as she might, she could not read what was going on inside Emma's head at that moment. It looked like the little girl herself could not figure out how she felt about her being there. It wasn't until Emma spoke that Felicity got a hint that their talk was going to be a long and hard one.

Emma shrugged her shoulders and then let out a big breath. "What took you so long?"

It wasn't a question. Felicity now saw in her eyes something similar to what she'd seen in Oliver's just a while ago. Emma was hurt, and that hurt her as well.

A/N: This one still had to be angsty. But I promise that the next update will give us light at the end of the tunnel. Thanks for still reading this! And I really mean that. Do let me know if you've enjoyed this post. A little encouragement helps.