"It's doesn't look crowded," Henry observed as they pulled into a parking place directly in front of the restaurant.
"It's three o'clock," Mary Margaret stated, switching off the ignition and taking a deep breath. "Not exactly prime time for either lunch or dinner."
Henry nodded, feeling for the letter in his coat pocket, squeezing it harder than he probably should. He grabbed the car door handle and sat up as tall as he could manage.
"Let's do this," he said. "For my mom. She deserves a happy ending."
Mary Margaret reached over and laid her hand on top of his, giving him a gentle squeeze, looking him directly in the eye.
"She does," she agreed. "But we can't guarantee that for her, Henry. All we can do is share what we know and try to find out the truth. What your mom and Robin decide to do about it is completely up to them. You know that, right?"
He swallowed, squinting out the window at snow shining so brightly under the sun that it hurt his eyes. He wished he'd thought to bring his sunglasses.
"Yeah," he said, looking back at his godmother. "But we can at least give them a second chance."
"Yes," Mary Margaret said. "That we can do."
They climbed out of the car and shut their doors, moving to stand together on the sidewalk as they stared inside through the large windows. Henry clutched the letter again, letting it give him courage, even though he was unsure of what to expect when he actually showed it to Robin. How would Mr. Locksley react? Would he be sad? Angry? Is it possible he knew about his mom's heart already and that's what actually had caused them to break up?
"Henry," Mary Margaret called out from the door, her breath visible against the cold. "Come on. It's a lot warmer inside."
She was right, so he jogged towards the building and through the front door. The restaurant wasn't empty, but it was far less crowded than it had been when they'd eaten there last week. The lasagna smelled great, and his stomach growled.
"I don't see him anywhere," Mary Margaret whispered, standing on tiptoe to look into the back room. "Do you?"
"No," Henry sighed, scanning the bar area, wondering if perhaps Robin was working in the kitchen. He had to be here somewhere, he just had to. Henry had to speak with him today, right now, before he lost his nerve and things between Robin and his mother only got worse.
"Henry? Is that you?"
The voice startled him, and he turned to see one of his mother's colleagues sliding out of her booth and walking in his direction.
"Belle," he said. "What are you doing here?"
"I just finished my shift, and I'm starving," Belle returned, still wearing her scrubs. "Things have been crazy at the hospital this week."
Henry froze, glancing around the restaurant.
"Is she here? With you? My mom, I mean."
She couldn't be here, not now. It would ruin the plan he and Mary Margaret had discussed on the way here.
"No," Belle answered. "She was checking on one of her patients when I left. Said she'd be a while." He shouldn't feel relieved that his mom was having to work later than usual, but it was for her own good, he reasoned, whether she would agree with him or not. "What are you two doing here?"
"Would you like a table?"
A man that Henry didn't recognize was standing in front of them, menus in hand. He was tall with a beard similar in shape and color to Robin's, making Henry wonder if the two of them were related.
"You two can sit with me, if you like," Belle stated, gesturing towards her booth. "I haven't had the chance to order yet."
"Thank you," Mary Margaret returned. "But we're not here to eat."
The man raised his eyebrows, staring at Mary Margaret like she'd spoken in Chinese.
"Do you often come to restaurants when you don't plan to eat?" he asked. "Or is there something else I can help you with this afternoon?"
"We're here to see someone," Henry said, taking a step forward. "A guy named Robin."
"Robin Locksley?" the man asked. Henry nodded, feeling the letter in his pocket brush against his hand. "I'm sorry to tell you that he's not here at the moment."
"Oh," Henry said. His stomach sank down to his knees. "Will he be back soon? It's important that we see him."
The man stared at him before looking at both Mary Margaret and Belle.
"His son is sick with the flu, so he's home with him," he answered. "He'll be out a couple of days, I'm afraid."
"Roland's sick?" Henry asked, his shoulders sagging even further.
"You know Roland?" the man questioned, opening his mouth to say something else when Belle cut in.
"I know Roland," she said. "At least, I think I do. I met a little guy named Roland last night at the ER who was diagnosed with the flu. I helped his father with his paperwork and got them situated in the peds area." She paused, looking up at August. "Is it the same Roland?"
"Curly black hair?" August questioned. "Four years old? About yea high?"
He taped his hip, and Belle nodded.
"That's him," she stated. "So his dad works here? Small world."
"Wait!" Henry cried, turning to Mary Margaret. "Hold everything! That's where mom saw him, Aunt Mary Margaret! At the ER last night! It has to be, which was why…"
"Which was why she was acting off this morning," Mary Margaret continued. "Because she ran into Robin at the hospital!"
"This is all starting to make sense!" Henry exclaimed.
"What is starting to make sense?" the man questioned. "Because I'm more confused than ever." He inhaled, running his hand through his brown hair when his focus returned to Henry. "Wait-is Regina your mother?"
"Yes," Henry said. "Regina Mills. And Robin is your…"
"Cousin," the man explained. "Well, not by blood, but close enough. His late wife was my cousin. We've known each other for most of our lives."
"Wait," Belle said, shaking her head. "How do Regina and Roland fit together, exactly?
"It's Regina and Robin we're concerned about," Mary Margaret returned, staring longingly at a plate of lasagna being delivered to a nearby table.
"Are they seeing each other?" Belle asked, looking from Henry to Mary Margaret. "Regina and Robin, I mean."
"Well, they were," the man answered, his gaze settling back on Henry. "Until she ran out on him and refused to take his calls."
"That doesn't sound like Regina," Belle stated, looking more confused than ever.
"It's complicated," Henry cut in, taking one step towards Belle. "And I think I know why she's been avoiding him, Mr...Mr…"
"August," the man stated, his curiosity obviously piqued. "So tell me, Henry. What's going on with your mom?"
"Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this," Belle proposed, laying a hand on Henry's arm. "I'm starving, and it looks like you could use something to eat, Mary Margaret." She paused, casting a somewhat shy glance at the man standing beside her. "You're welcome to join us, too, August. It sounds as if all of us want what's best for Regina and Robin."
August swallowed, his cheeks turning pink as he exhaled and looked down at his watch.
"Well, I'm technically not working at the moment. I just stopped by to see if Dad and Alonzo needed any help since Robin had to take off today."
"So Robin is Roland's dad," Belle said as she led the way to her booth. "Yeah?"
"Yes," August answered, staring at Belle a bit longer than was necessary. "He's been raising him on his own since Marian died two years ago."
"Being a single parent is hard," Belle sighed as she slid into her seat. "Believe me, I know."
August paused, clearing his throat
"You're a single parent?" he questioned as Henry slid into the booth across from Belle, making room for Mary Margaret beside him.
"Have been since my son was born," Belle returned. "A year and a half ago."
"So your divorce is final now?" Mary Margaret asked, adjusting herself as best as she could with her protruding belly.
"Finally," Belle returned with a smile. "And I have sole custody of Gideon and a restraining order to boot, so I'm free in every aspect."
"Thank God," Mary Margaret said, laying a hand on her stomach. "I'm glad to hear that."
"So am I," August uttered, shaking his head when he realized what he'd said. He was acting a little like Robin had acted when he'd first met Henry's mom. "Well, if you have a restraining order, I take it your son's dad…"
"Is a controlling, abusive jerk," Belle finished for him. "And someone I gave far too many chances to change his ways."
"Good riddance," Mary Margaret said, reaching her hand out and giving Belle's a squeeze.
"Let me grab everyone a drink and some bread before I sit down," August cut in. "What's everyone having?"
He took their orders, and Belle watched him walk away before returning her attention to Mary Margaret and Henry.
"Alright," she began, staring at them quizzically. "What's going on? I didn't even know your mother was dating anyone."
"She hasn't been," Henry returned. "Until a week ago. That's when she met Robin here at his restaurant."
"So he owns this place?" Belle asked, giving August a smile of thanks when he returned with three waters and a Coke for Henry. Henry took a big sip, enjoying the way the bubbles burned going down his throat.
"Co-owns," August said. "His father opened this restaurant along with my dad and uncle when they were younger. Robin's dad passed away many years ago, so his father's share passed on to him." He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. "I'll go get everyone some bread."
He moved back towards the kitchen as Henry took another drink of his Coke. His mom didn't like him to drink too many soft drinks, so he took advantage of it when he was out with Aunt Mary Margaret.
"He and mom hit it off right off the bat," Henry continued. "So well that they had a date that night. After she finished checking on a patient, I mean. She said Robin had a table set up for them in the back of the restaurant with dessert and everything."
"That's impressive," Belle stated. "Way to woo a lady. I wouldn't mind a private dinner after a late night at work."
August set a basket full of breadsticks down in the middle of the table and passed out silverware and napkins before sitting down beside Belle.
"They seemed perfect for each other," Mary Margaret added. She took a breadstick, taking a big bite and closing her eyes in appreciation. "I'm actually hungrier than I thought I was."
"So am I," Belle stated, taking a breadstick for herself and biting into it with gusto. "Oh my God," she muttered, looking appreciatively at August. "Did you make these?"
"My dad," August replied with a shrug that tried to look nonchalant but failed. He was so into Belle that Henry wanted to roll his eyes and tell him to ask her out already. But today wasn't about Belle and August. It was about his mom and Robin.
"They might be perfect for each other," Henry said, getting his thoughts back on track. "I haven't seen my mom as happy as she was last weekend when she was getting ready for their second date."
"She was also a nervous wreck," Mary Margaret added, taking another bite of bread. "I had to talk her out of cancelling. You would have thought it was her first date ever."
"Robin was the same way," August said. "Like a teenager with a huge crush. Regina was the first woman he'd really noticed since Marian died, and he nearly burned his house down trying to impress her with his cooking."
Belle shook her head.
"So what happened?" she asked. "Was the date a disaster?"
"Not at first," August answered. "At least, according to Robin. He said they were getting along great, that everything just fit together like it was meant to be until…"
He paused, staring down at his own glass.
"Until what?" Belle prodded. August cast a quick glance at Henry before clearing his throat and taking a big drink of his water.
"Until he got up to make breakfast," he replied, watching as Belle and Mary Margaret caught on to his meaning. "And Regina ran out the front door without looking back."
"It's okay, August," Henry said. "I figured she spent the night there."
"Henry!" Mary Margaret uttered, looking pretty shocked.
"What?" he asked. "I stayed over with you and Uncle Dave that night. I figured we were all giving her some space. I'm not five anymore, Aunt Mary Margaret."
"I know," she returned with a big sigh. "But still."
"That's not like Regina, running out like that," Belle sighed, tearing off another piece of bread. "She's not a person who avoids confrontation."
"Something had to have upset her," Henry stated, watching as the adults conceded his point. "And I think I know what that was."
He pulled the letter out of his coat pocket, once again drawing courage from it as he handed it to August, watching the man's expression carefully as he unfolded it and read its contents.
"Where did you get this?" August asked, allowing Belle to look over his shoulder and read it for herself. "This belongs to Robin."
"I knew it!" Henry exclaimed, turning excitedly to Mary Margaret who smiled back at him. "I knew it had to be his!"
"Why do you have this?" August asked again, looking more confused than ever.
"I found it in my mom's pocket," Henry explained. "She must have taken it from Robin's house."
"Why would she do that?" August questioned. Henry looked directly at him, taking a deep breath and letting out slowly.
"Because I wrote it," he replied, watching as August and Belle began to comprehend what he was saying. "I'm the kid in that letter. The person who has Marian's heart is my mom."
"Oh my God," Belle muttered as August rubbed a palm over his beard. "That's...that's…"
"Unbelievable," August stated, leaning forward on his elbows. "You're saying your mom ran out on Robin because she discovered she has Marian's heart?"
"She would have recognized my handwriting," Henry said. "And she's felt guilty ever since her transplant."
"But why?" Belle asked. "That transplant saved her life."
"Because someone else had to die in order for her to live," Mary Margaret answered. "She was in a funk over it for months after her transplant, if you remember. And just when she was finally starting to let herself feel like a whole woman again and truly live…"
"She finds out the heart she has belonged to her new lover's late wife," August interrupted, shaking his head. "Christ. This is complicated, really complicated. But it explains a lot."
"That's why we're here," Henry said. "If Robin is anywhere near as miserable as my mom is right now, we have to get them together to talk."
"Unless he already knows," Mary Margaret added after swallowing her bread. "And that's what caused this problem between them."
"I'm sure he doesn't," August stated. "Because he's a confused mess right now. He's already half in love with your mom, Henry, and has been devastated over the fact that she won't talk to him. He's been a wreck all week."
"So has she," " Henry claimed, setting down his Coke. "I think she's half in love with him, too, but she's too afraid of how he'll react when he finds out about her heart to tell him the truth."
"This is a mess," Belle said. "Does anyone have an idea of how we should proceed?"
"We?" Mary Margaret asked, grinning at Belle. "Are you joining in our little scheme?"
"Of course I am," Belle stated, casting a glance at her watch. "Ruby can stay with Gideon until 6:00 if I need her to, so I'm in if you'll have me."
"Of course we'll have you," Henry exclaimed. "Won't we, August?"
He watched as the older man swallowed, turning a light shade of pink before he downed the rest of his water.
"Of course," August replied, tossing a grin in Belle's direction as he exhaled through his nose. "But how are we supposed to help these two idiots get back to each other if neither of them are here?"
"Can't we go to one of them?" Belle asked. "Regina should be off of work in another hour or so."
"I think we should talk to Robin first," Henry stated. "My mom will deny everything and clam up if we start with her."
"Okay," August said, laying his palms on the table. "Let's say we go to Robin's. This isn't exactly something we want Roland to overhear. The thought of his mommy's heart in someone else's body would be hard for him to comprehend."
"I agree," Belle stated. "It might spook him. I could watch Roland if Robin will let me. I can't be any more exposed to the flu than I already have been at the hospital."
"I was with Roland right before he got sick," August added. "I'm sure I've been exposed, too, so I can help."
"I probably shouldn't go in the house," Mary Margaret said, laying a protective hand over her belly. "I mean…"
"By no means are you to go in that house," Belle insisted. "We don't need you to get sick in your condition."
"And I'll talk to Robin," Henry said. "I'm the one who wrote the letter in the first place, and I've had my flu shot. Mom made sure of that. Besides-he can't get that angry at a kid."
The adults grew quiet, nodding in agreement one by one.
"So if Belle and I agree to watch Roland, it leaves Robin free to go see Regina if he decides to do that," August stated. "After Henry breaks the news to him."
"He might prefer time alone to process all of this," Mary Margaret countered. "I mean, it is a lot of information to swallow at one time, and we are talking about his wife's heart."
"And my mom's life," Henry added.
"And both of their futures," Belle stated with a sigh. "I really hope this is something both of them are able to get past."
"So do I," August said. "Robin's an amazing guy, and he deserves a second chance at love."
"So does Regina," Mary Margaret said. "Life hasn't exactly been easy on her. We all just want her to be happy."
"Then let's do this," Henry stated, grinning from ear to ear as a server brought out a family tray of lasagna with four plates and set it down in front of them. Mary Margaret inhaled, closing her eyes to absorb the aroma as Belle rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "After we eat, of course."
Robin, it turned out, lived just a few streets away from the restaurant in a modest, red brick townhouse. Mary Margaret parked as close to his front door as she could, looking back at Henry who was sitting in the back seat with Belle.
"You ready for this?" she asked, reaching back to squeeze his hand as he nodded.
"I'm ready," he stated, grinning as Belle tossed him a reassuring wink. "Operation Broken Heart is now underway."
"Operation Broken Heart?" August questioned as they stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk.
"Yeah," Henry said. "My mom had a broken heart for most of her life, and now that she finally has a healthy one, it's been broken again."
"It sounds like Robin's has been, too," Belle stated, moving to stand beside them. "And the very operation that saved your mom's heart is now cracking it back open."
"Operation Broken Heart it is, then," August said, walking towards the front steps and rubbing his hands together. "Let's just hope they're both repairable."
Henry paused, looking up at the sky, all drab and gray, and he wondered if it reflected how his mom felt inside. She'd been through so much, had worked so hard to heal so many people, and it was time for her to heal, time for her heart to truly feel at home in her chest, time for her to stop feeling guilty for being alive.
He only hoped that Robin would feel the same way.
August knocked on the front door and Henry stood behind him, trying to talk his heart into slowing down. He clutched the letter in his pocket, holding onto it for courage as he looked back towards the car, receiving a thumbs up and a smile from Mary Margaret who was still sitting in the driver's seat.
Yes. He could do this. He had to do this. For his mom.
He heard footsteps making their way towards them from the inside of the house, and he nearly jumped out of his shoes when the door opened. Robin stood in front of them, wearing gray sweatpants and a Boston College hoodie, looking as worn out as his mom had this morning.
"August," he muttered, running a hand over his head as his gaze moved from Henry to Belle and back to his cousin. "What's going on?"
"May we come in, Robin?" August asked. "And we'll explain everything."
Robin eyed them one second longer then stepped backwards, gesturing them all inside.
"I don't know if you remember me or not," Belle began, taking off her hood. "But we met at the ER last night. I'm Belle."
She stuck out her hand, and Robin shook it as she smiled.
"You're a nurse," he said, comprehension dawning. "The one that helped get us back into the pediatric area last night. Thank you for that."
"My pleasure," Belle added. "How is Roland doing?"
"About the same," Robin replied with a shrug. "He's sleeping now, actually. But I doubt you're here on a house call, especially when you're accompanied by my oaf of a cousin and young Mr. Mills here."
Blue eyes stared straight at him, then, and Henry tried to smile, reminding himself of exactly why he was here and of what all was at stake.
"Hi, Mr. Locksley," he said, sticking his own hand out just as Belle had done. Robin took his hand and shook it, giving him a look that Henry couldn't quite make out.
"Henry came to the restaurant looking for you," August cut in, claiming Robin's attention for himself. "He has something that belongs to you, actually, and wanted to return it."
Robin stepped towards him then, obviously confused.
"Something of mine?" he asked. "I don't understand."
Henry breathed in, trying to find just the right words.
"That's a conversation the two of you need to have," August said, casting an encouraging smile in Henry's direction. He then laid his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and Henry felt better, knowing that he had three different adults cheering him on. "Belle and I can keep an ear out for Roland in case he wakes up while you talk."
Robin stared at the other man and finally nodded, watching as August laid his hand on Belle's back and guided her towards the family room. He then returned his focus to Henry, motioning him the kitchen for a bit of privacy. Henry squeezed the letter tight as he followed Robin, breathing a silent prayer that Mr. Locksley would hear what he had to say with an open heart.
"Thanks for agreeing to see me," Henry began. Robin leaned against a counter a crossed his arms over his chest as he shrugged. His beard was thicker than Henry remembered, probably because he'd had no time to shave with a sick kid, and he looked really, really tired. "I know things haven't been so good between you and my mom this week."
"That's a bit of an understatement," Robin stated with a sigh. "Listen, Henry, I don't know what your mother has told you…"
"Nothing, basically," Henry interrupted. "At least, nothing about the two of you. She's just been really upset this week, well, ever since the day after your date."
Robin blew air out of his mouth, rubbing the back of his neck before looking back at him.
"That makes two of us," Robin said. "I promise you, Henry, if I did or said anything to upset her, it was completely unintentional…"
"I know you didn't," Henry cut in. "That's why I'm here, actually." Robin's eyes narrowed, and Henry wondered just what he was thinking. "I'm pretty sure I figured out what's bothering her so much, why she's been so sad and quiet."
Okay. He had the man's full attention now.
"I'm listening," Robin said, sliding his hands into his pockets just as Henry pulled the letter he'd been clenching out of his. His palm was sweaty, his mouth as dry as sand as he extended the paper in Robin's direction, reminding himself that it was important to breathe.
"Go ahead," Henry said, his chin quivering. "Take it."
The room felt hot all of a sudden, and he thought about taking off his coat as Robin stepped forward. He touched the letter before taking it from him, gazing back at Henry slack-jawed as he realized what it was.
"Where did you?" he began, pausing to catch his breath. "How did you get this?"
Henry swallowed hard, forcing himself to look Robin in the eye.
"I found it today," he answered. "In my mom's pants' pocket."
"But…" Robin stammered, staring from the letter back to Henry. "I don't understand. Why would Regina...this makes no sense...I don't...do you know what this bloody letter says?"
The man looked tortured, his face nearly as white as Henry's sneakers.
"I know exactly what it says," Henry returned, filling his lungs with air. He touched the letter, clearing his throat as tears began to sting his eyes. "Because that's me."
"What?"
Robin's breath seemed frozen, chilling Henry to the bone. The letter pulsed between them as if it were a living thing.
"That's me," Henry repeated, wiping his cheek. His throat was thick, and it was hard to talk, but he blinked back more tears, reminding himself again that this was for his mom. "The kid in this letter, the one thanking you for saving his mom's life. It's me, Mr. Locksley. I'm the one who wrote this."
"You?" He was whispering, blinking even faster than Henry was, shaking his head as if trying to put what he'd just heard into some sort of logical order. He was silent a moment, and Henry made himself stand still and wait, even though he wanted to run out of the room. "Wha...what are you saying? You mean...you…"
Robin looked as if he'd been slapped, and he stepped backwards, staring from the letter back to Henry and back to the letter again.
"I wrote that letter," Henry continued, gulping back fresh tears. "Two years ago, right after my mom had a heart transplant." He swallowed, wishing for a big drink of water. "Last weekend when we were celebrating at your restaurant, it was because it had been two years since her transplant. We called it her second birthday."
"Your mom," Robin whispered, looking like a man in a trance. "Regina. Her birthday." He was stroking the letter now, rubbing his thumbs over the paper, making it rattle in the process.
"Mary Margaret helped me," Henry continued. "Mom didn't know anything about the letter. She felt guilty about having somebody else's heart, but I wanted to thank the family who let her have it, because...because…"
He paused, unable to fight back more tears as he remembered how scared he'd been when they'd taken her into surgery. She could have died that day, all too easily, and he'd have had no one who loved him like she did, who'd chosen him to be her very own after another woman had given him away.
"Because she would have died," he managed, wiping his eyes and face. "I wouldn't have a mom at all if they…if you hadn't…"
Robin slumped against the stove, dropping the letter to his side.
"She has...Regina has…" Robin began, swallowing hard. A tear slid down his own cheek, and he let it fall, staring back at Henry as he finally understood. "She has Marian's heart."
For several seconds, the only sounds in the kitchen were those of sniffing and quiet sobs.
"That's what you're trying to tell me, isn't it?"
Henry nodded, wiping his cheeks furiously, trying to pull himself together.
"I think she found the letter," he managed. "Somewhere here. She knows my handwriting, and…"
Robin exhaled loudly, crying unashamedly as he bit his lower lip.
"That's why she left," he said, staring at the letter. "Why she ran. Oh, God." His hands were shaking as badly as Henry's legs.
"I didn't mean to upset you," Henry said, sniffing to clear his nose. Robin grabbed a paper towel and handed to him, and he wiped his face before blowing his nose.
"I know, Henry. It was very brave of you to come here today."
His voice was so soft it was hard to hear, and Henry searched for a trash can to throw away the paper towel, finding one to his right.
"I did it for my mom. She tries to be so strong for everybody else, especially me, but sometimes she needs a little help"
Robin stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder just like August had done, giving it a firm squeeze. His eyes were red and wet now, but he held on to Henry and nodded.
"She's lucky to have you," Robin said with a tight smile.
"I'm lucky to have her," Henry stated. "I know it had to be really hard to lose your wife, and I'm really sorry you did," he gushed, his chin trembling again. "But thanks for saving my mom's life, Mr. Locksley. Thanks for giving her back to me."
He was pulled into a hug then, and he wrapped his arms around Robin, holding on to him when the man began to sob. Henry had never seen a man really cry before, but he knew somehow that this was important, that these tears had to happen in order for all of them to move forward. Mr. Locksley's body shook, and Henry held onto him all the tighter, figuring that if Robin had been just as broken as his mom, he needed someone to help him, too. He'd never been hugged like this by a man, and he found that he liked it, that Robin's arms felt safe and protective, kind of the way Uncle Dave's arms felt, but different. More like what Henry had always thought a dad's hug would feel. He wondered if his mom had felt safe here with Robin and understood why she'd be sad to give him up.
And while he stood there in Mr. Locksley's kitchen, being held by the man who'd saved his mom's life, he let himself cry, too.