Chapter 7: Losses and Admissions
Apple Valley, Ma
The Past
September 2008
Emma's sophomore year ended with her first A. Emma's mom put her report card on the fridge, and Regina even decorated it with a gold star.
The summer came too quickly, and she and Regina didn't see one another for months. She occasionally hung out with Zelena, Archie and Jefferson. Zelena reported questions from Regina, like: did she have one of the new iPhone thingies?
Emma's poor flip phone felt mocked.
They mostly communicated on MSN Messenger; Regina preferred it since she could share photos and documents. Emma questioned the necessity of seeing the latest update to one of Regina's recipes when she still knew very little about baking, but she went with it.
They rarely talked about anything that important, but there were moments:
I'm terrified that my one wrestling win will be the only one.
I'm nervous about my Harvard interview.
My mom keeps trying to talk me out of wrestling. She's resorted to suggesting clubs you're in, like debate club.
I did want to be homecoming queen but if I let my mother know, she would be relentless. I don't think I could handle that.
It's my junior year, I still have no clue what I'm doing.
It's my senior year. I've followed my plan perfectly. I just need to get through this year.
Have I mentioned that I really liked winning that match?
Good heavens, have we finally discovered something you are ambitious about?
Mom and I sorta miss having you around. Sorta.
I miss being around. Sort of.
School started in early September.
Emma still wore her iPod, more for security-blanket purposes now. The headphones rested around her neck most of the day.
Regina drove to school in yet another car, another Mercedes, with her iPhone at her hip. All the cool kids had one.
And so did Archie.
Emma looked at her own device sadly.
On the first day of school, Emma impatiently waited for a summons to the Home Ec room, and upon not receiving one after a couple of days, sent a note Regina.
"I was wondering which of us would cave first," Regina said impishly as Emma opened the door to the room.
Emma shook her head. "Regina, I don't think friendship has winners and losers."
"Well, if it does, then I won." Regina disappeared behind an oven, but she waved Tupperware around the corner as bait. 'Come along, Emma, I have treats."
They sat behind the ovens and ate iced lemon cookies to celebrate their reunion. Regina kept touching her arm or her knee while making a point about one thing or another.
On Tuesday, Regina came over to stealth-bake as usual. They went to Emma's room while they waited for the cupcakes to be done. Regina unceremoniously de-iPoded Emma the moment they entered the room and scrolled through her music.
"AC/DC, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Otis Redding, Bob Dylan. Do you actually have any music from this decade?"
"Have you heard the music from this decade?"
Regina placed the headphones over her own ears, sat at Emma's desk and closed her eyes, listening.
"What are you list —"
"Shhhhhh," Regina said, lips twitching to hold back a smile, before her face relaxed again. She concentrated on the music, bowing her head, pressing one hand against the ear speaker.
Emma shook her head because, even this, Regina did with intensity.
Emma kind of loved it.
Lying on the bed, she rolled to her side to be as close to Regina as she could be without falling off. As she lay transfixed, her heart, tired of being ignored, caught her in a chokehold. It forced her to examine how puny the word "attraction" was, given how much she felt.
When they had first met, she'd lusted after Regina. She didn't expect it to sneak in, throw off its disguise and reveal itself to be something more. Her crush — the best way she could think of to describe it — was a ninja who raided her defenses and, before she could react, raised a new flag.
Or whatever crush-ninjas did.
She doubted Regina shared her feelings. People like Regina were straight, good citizens, and lived immaculate lives. Her crush would never go anywhere.
The official admission opened an entire can of worms, and a dozen questions about what it meant wriggled free. In her usual fashion, she decided to mull things over for a while.
When the song ended and another track started, Regina quirked a brow at Emma. "Showtunes? You have Broadway music on this, too?"
"I don't know how that got there."
Regina scooted the chair closer to Emma. "Sam Cooke. That was who I listened to. I liked it." She crossed one leg over the other, sitting primly. "Though, I'm not sure I get the phrase 'sugar and spice and everything nice' regarding women."
"Well, you wouldn't. It means, like, a 'nice girl,' soooo... "
The light joke hung in mid-air, helpless, as Regina slid the headphones around Emma's neck, taking her time to adjust them until they rested evenly. "And you are suggesting I'm not one?" Regina placed her chin in her hand, index finger tapping against her lower lip. "That I lack something?"
The husky words dared Emma, and heat travelled down her body, over the muscles of her stomach. Fuck. Emma rolled unto her back as a means of escape. "Actually, I think it's a cooking thing, so it's probably a good fit. Probably." She massaged the bridge of her nose and lunged for a new topic. "Hey, uh, are you still taking college classes this year?"
"I am. I've already registered and I start this week. Speaking of academic excellence, I have increased my ambitions for you this year: 2 A's."
"Two?!"
She patted Emma's knee. "I have faith in you."
"This is cruel and unusual."
"Well, you did imply that I'm not a nice girl, didn't you?"
Regina used that tone again, but Emma refused to allow the crush-ninja to distract her. This was life and death. "You're evil. I can't do two."
"I do love a challenge."
Shit.
Later that night, long after Regina left, Emma went into the kitchen and foraged in the fridge. She did a passable job pretending that she'd accidentally come across her mom grading papers, instead of on purpose.
Trying to sound as casual as possible, Emma asked, "Hey Mom, how do you tell if your feelings for someone are serious?"
Her mother paused, set her pen down and smiled slowly.
"Mom," Emma groaned. "This is just hypothetical."
"Okay, hypothetically. You know I'm restraining a lot of questions right now?"
"Yeah, I know."
"As long as you appreciate my effort. Here." She pushed a container of cupcakes at Emma, the result of Regina's efforts earlier. Emma took one and sat down, waiting. Her mother's countenance grew thoughtful. "I think, love asks you questions. It dares you. It inspires you to give. With infatuation, you already think you have the answers, and you never feel pushed. Sometimes you get lucky, and infatuation grows into love."
Her mom smiled in the particular sad, adoring way she did when she thought of Emma's father.
Emma dropped her eyes to the tabletop and found the bravery to ask, "And that's how it was with you and Dad?"
She didn't talk about her father. Her mom tried to draw her into conversations about him or about his death, to check on Emma. Emma couldn't open that door to her pain.
"With David, in one night we went from one to the other. It changed my life. Loving your father was the bravest and best thing I ever did." Mary Margaret touched their foreheads together, her eyes bright with love. "With the exception of being your mom."
True peace with her mother happened too rarely. Emma, for once, didn't retreat. The question of which of them was right and which was wrong didn't barge in. She let the strength of her mother's approval and love wrap around her.
####################################
September's more moderate temperature grew cooler. Arts into Action officially started and Homecoming posters appeared in the halls.
In October, the flu started going around. At one point, about eight percent of the school population had it. Every morning during announcements, the principal reminded students to get flu shots.
Regina printed an article in the school paper with tips on how to stop the spread of germs.
After Homecoming, Mary Margaret got sick. She tried to work through it at first, nose red from sneezing, the cold meds she took having little to no effect. She talked about her symptoms with annoyance.
Two days later, she could barely breathe, and Emma called an ambulance. That first night, Emma slept by her mother's hospital bed in a faux-leather chair. She hoped they would only be there overnight.
Mom, barely able to keep her eyes open, made the "I love you" sign with her fingers. Her labored breathing and the beep of machines were the only sounds in the room.
Her mother's inability to talk terrified Emma, and anxiety turned tighter and tighter inside her. She told herself to be strong, that her mom needed her. She made stupid jokes, like being grateful she wasn't at home writing a paper. She held her mom's hand, probably too tight, listening to her gasp.
Around noon the next day, Archie pushed open the door. His arms wrapped around her and she leaned into him, tired of facing this alone. The others arrived not long after. The father of someone from school worked at the hospital, so word had gotten around.
Regina inched her hand toward Emma's. When she finally cupped her fingers, the light touch was fragile, an uncertain offering. Emma tightened the connection, accepting.
Jefferson slouched by the window with a grim expression. Zelena kept moving. She decorated the room with several bouquets of flowers. She brought them coffee and soda. She fetched them sandwiches. She drove Regina's car to get Emma a change of clothes.
Archie offered to read from a book of poetry. When he did, his soft, clear voice covered the persistent sound of the machines.
They stayed till visiting hours were over.
In the middle of their second night at the hospital, her mom lost consciousness.
The doctor explained that the flu had become pneumonia and said a lot of words Emma didn't entirely catch about "respiratory tract infections." They moved her mother to ICU, where the visitor's policy was restricted to family members.
The others still came, sitting in the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room for hours. Emma would come out, spend a little time with them, then go back to her mom.
They kept trying different antibiotics.
The next day, Mary Margaret flatlined. They escorted Emma out and resuscitated her.
It made no sense to Emma. None at all. The flu wasn't fatal. She told herself the worst was over. Things had to get better now, she thought.
It happened again. They revived her. Emma's worry turned inside her constantly. She paced the room or the hallway just outside.
The administration in the hospital kept asking if Emma had other family; she told them she didn't a half dozen times. Mom's parents were dead. Dad's were, too. They were both only children.
The alarms on her mother's machines went off a third time. Again, they ushered her out. This time multiple doctors arrived. Everyone coming in and out of the room, some pushing in equipment, kept a frantic pace.
Until everything stopped.
The doctor joined Emma outside her mother's room. He explained that they'd tried. He used words like "gone" and "we lost her." He quietly asked her again about family. One of the nurses intervened and reiterated Emma's previous answers.
They wondered if Emma had anyone at the hospital or if she was alone.
In the waiting room, Emma found Archie and Regina. Together, they hugged her close.
She didn't feel it.
Archie called his mom.
The doctor came out and asked if Emma wanted to say goodbye.
She went to her mom's room; a lemming marching by instinct.
Free of tubes and the plastic tent over her head and upper body, unobscured, she suddenly seemed so small. She kissed her mother's forehead, then held her hand.
Her world froze, right at that second, for days. Like she never left the hospital, even while lying in the guest bedroom in Archie's house.
Archie's mother (she told Emma to call her Janice), who shared his curly red-hair and generously-appointed freckles, said Emma would be staying with them for a bit. If that was okay with her.
Janice Hopper took charge of the funeral arrangements. There were rules to funerals, Emma learned. She needed to find a picture of her mom and tell them if her mother had a favorite poem or piece of music.
She couldn't think of any specific one. It bothered her. Her mom loved so many things like that.
Janice asked what her mother would want to be buried in.
Emma wondered, in some dark part of her mind, why it mattered. She stared into her mother's closet blindly for twenty minutes before Regina ushered her out and took over.
The day of the funeral, Abigail Adams High School closed. They held a church service, even though her mom wasn't all that religious. The entire school showed up. The sanctuary's mammoth interior crammed with people.
Archie held one of her hands and Regina took the other. Jefferson and Zelena sat with her, and so did Archie's parents.
Afterward, an endless stream of people, many she didn't know, expressed condolences. When they came up to her, they were sobbing and heartbroken. It felt like holding herself together, meeting their eyes and shaking their hands, was the right thing to do.
Archie's mom proved herself to be a saint that night. All five of them crashed in her living room, an impromptu sleepover. Janice not only allowed it, but she ordered chinese food for everyone.
Emma stared at the ceiling even after everyone else gave in to sleep. Or she thought they had. A hand curled around her arm. "Come on," Regina whispered and, because Emma didn't care much where she went or what she did, she followed her upstairs.
"Which one is your room?" Regina asked.
Emma opened the door, showing her. Emma shuffled in and Regina followed, closing the door.
"You were strong for everyone today. You have been this whole time."
"I'm not sure what else to do."
"For now? Lie down," Regina ordered. Emma didn't know where this was headed, but she trusted Regina and was too tired to ask questions. Regina curled up behind her, arms circling her. Emma closed her eyes and sank into the peace of being held. Regina's hands rubbed her shoulders and back.
"It all feels wrong," Emma whispered into the darkness.
"I know."
"Regina, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know if I can do this." Her voice broke and, childlike, she said, "I don't have a mom and dad anymore. I'm an orphan."
Regina lay her cheek against Emma's back and tightened her arms around her. "It's not the same, but I'll be part of your family. And I think Archie adopted all of us a long time ago."
Nothing much reached her in the low valley she lived in. But what Regina said, and that she could feel her heart respond, created a foothold somewhere deep inside her. A first step of the climb up, even if she couldn't start now and didn't know when she would be ready.
Every part of her wobbled in place, but Regina's strength, offered to her unconditionally, kept the fragmented pieces of her from collapsing into a heap.
The next morning she got up and did what she had almost every day for years, needing to do something. She passed Archie reading at the kitchen table.
"I was gonna go for a jog."
"Let me get changed really quick. I'm not all that athletic, but I could come with you, if you want?"
"You want to go jogging? You're sure?"
"I think so?"
"We don't we try walking for a bit then jogging?"
She took it easy on him, but he still gasped like a beached carp through most of it.
When they reached his house, he collapsed in the grass of his front yard. "You do that every day?"
She sat down next to him, and they watched the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon.
He went jogging with her the next day, too.
############################################################
Officially, school allowed her five days to grieve.
Not knowing what else to do, she returned to school after only four days. Various teachers quietly whispered that she should come to them if she needed to talk. Those who hadn't been at the funeral for one reason or another stopped her in the halls to tell her how sorry they were and strangle her with hugs.
Archie, Zelena and Jefferson flanked her everywhere she went.
And Regina too.
At lunch, Zelena, Archie and Jefferson surrounded her protectively.
The sound of a fourth tray quietly clattering against the table made Emma's head jerk up. Regina, grim-faced, sat down with them. She reached out to lay her hand over Emma's and squeezed it. The rarity of Regina's rebellion should have caused Emma's heart to swell. Instead, everything felt blurry.
"Are you just visiting," Zelena asked her sister.
"No," Regina said. Zelena moved to sit beside her, a show of solidarity.
Archie left a note in everyone's locker to meet in the high school parking lot that night.
He guided them through the woods, saying only, "Jefferson found it."
They didn't see the barn until they were almost on top of it, the trees thick around it. It had three sides that were in pretty good shape, but no front. High above them, a hay loft extended on the right side, around the back then to the left. The floor was concrete, marked with a few lines painted in blue. A basketball hoop hung from a beam above.
"Oh good, an old condemned building," Zelena said and wiped her hands on her jeans.
"I smoke pot here," Jefferson said, shrugging.
They sat at picnic tables that came from who knew where, eyes red-rimmed. Jefferson hunched, half buried in his trenchcoat. Zelena sat with rigid, perfect posture. Archie put his head down on crossed arms, blotting away errant tears with his shirt. Regina, face pale and blank, held Emma's hand.
No one said anything.
Stupid things occurred to Emma. Would she be able to keep going to taekwondo? Her mother got a break on the price because she was a teacher, but it was still pretty expensive...She'd been using her mom's car, should she feel bad about that or was it okay?
"I want to keep doing the group," Jefferson said, breaking the quiet. "I want to keep it going. Not as a school thing. Just us." He struggled to get the words out, his voice taut. "Here, maybe. If you guys want to."
"Should that really be a priority now?" Zelena asked with no heat, truly unsure of the right thing to do.
"I have no fucking clue. I don't want to go back to how things were. She gave this to us." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, one of the photocopies of his Five Flames sketch. Emma reflexively touched the matching patch on the upper sleeve of her letterman jacket.
"This is us," Jefferson said. "This is what she made us. We should fight to keep it, shouldn't we?" He hung his head, fingers clenching at his hair. "They're in a car, or they get a cold — and it's such fucking bullshit."
"Come here, vampire," Zelena commanded gently, and when he did, she embraced him. Archie scooted closer and wrapped them both in his arms.
Regina kept checking on Emma, worried. "We don't have to decide this now."
"It's okay," Emma said, watching the trio of Archie, Zelena and Jefferson. "Let's keep the club going."
The school named the gym after her mom. They didn't ask her about it, they just did it.
They requested a picture though, to have an etching of her mother made. After it was hung, at the first "home" basketball game, then wrestling match, every player touched it as they entered to gym.
A new routine started. Every morning she jogged. She had wrestling practice six days a week. Late afternoon on Mondays and Thursdays, the group met at Poe's Leaky Barn to continue the club. (But not with the old name. They were the Five Flames, Archie said. No one disputed it.) On Tuesdays, Regina helped her with her schoolwork. On Saturdays, her friends tried to coax her to do something fun. Sometimes they were successful, but mostly not. Regina kept Emma company on weekend nights when she lingered in her room at Archie's house.
A daze surrounded her most of the time. She registered things briefly but then they dropped away.
Regina started taking the bus to school. She didn't have her iPhone anymore. When the debate club, for the first time in three years, didn't re-elect her as president, she dropped the club.
Jefferson and Zelena explained that they'd wondered if their frequent barbs hid an attraction. After one kiss, they decided they were meant for friendship and absolutely nothing more.
Archie went on a date with someone he met at a library, and Zelena insisted on buying him a decent shirt.
Wrestling season ended with her winning three matches and losing four. The joy or frustration she once might have felt slipped away without her trying to hold unto it.
Emma blinked and half the year went by.
A death-defying skateboard ride down Widowmaker Hill forced her heart out of hiding long enough to feel, however briefly. Regina not showing up for their usual Tuesday get-together though, woke it.
Regina didn't answer two texts from her, further proof something was amiss.
Emma approached her in the hallway and realized no one surrounded her. No other students swarmed her with questions, or waited for her approval.
She still moved with pride and regality; only she did so alone.
It made Emma stop and see the world around her for the first time in months. She'd registered but not processed that Regina rode the bus now, that her new-fangled phone no longer lived on her hip. She listed other things about Regina she knew, but hadn't given significance to: Regina told them she wouldn't be going to prom. Every day at lunch, Regina's tray slid onto the table Emma and the other Flames sat at. Emma assumed she would rejoin the cool kids at some point, but it had been months.
She gently took Regina's arm. "Hey, do you have a second?"
"Emma,' Regina sounded surprised, maybe expecting Emma's usual zombie-like trudge through the halls. "I need to get to cl —"
"Just, come on." Emma said and, undeterred, pulled her into the Home Ec room.
Regina drew back, brows knit as she tried to read Emma. "I'm sorry if you're angry I had better things to do than that idiotic stunt Jefferson suggested."
The list in Emma's head kept growing. Regina had stayed over at Archie's for an entire weekend a few months ago. The first night the Hoppers made up the fold-out sofa, but after that, Regina just stayed with Emma in the guest room. Zelena had said something about unbearable drama with her mother.
"How come you're not going to prom?" Regina blinked in confusion. "You said you weren't going."
"No one's asked me."
"We'll all go with you."
"Emma, it's fine. I don't want to go."
"What happened to your car? You've been riding the bus."
"My mother sold it."
A suspicion crawled up the back of Emma's back. "Why?"
Regina rubbed her palms against one another. She took a few steps deeper into the room. Emma noticed she moved with no tap against the floor. She investigated her shoes — flats?
Regina wore heels. Always.
Emma strode forward and caught her around the waist. Regina squealed as Emma deposited her on a countertop workstation near an oven. "Talk to me."
"About?"
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Are you disappointed in me?"
"Why the hell would I be disappointed in you?"
"I didn't skateboard down Widowmaker Hill, which is a name that makes no sense at all and is complete hyperbole."
Emma waved that away. "Yeah, it was stupid. Saw my life flash before my eyes. Zelena stopped halfway down. Archie sat on the skateboard the whole way. Jefferson almost crashed into an old man. I jumped off about twenty feet from the end."
Jefferson had sold them all on the idea that it would bind them together, that facing their fears could do that. Regina called him while they were waiting around for her and explained she couldn't come.
"I lied to Jefferson. I suppose have a hard time taking risks."
"Anyone who's known you five minutes knows that."
"I just didn't think I could find the courage to...and I didn't want to look like a fool. But we were all supposed to and we all agreed —"
"Stop talking about the skateboarding thing for a second. Regina, I know I've been out of it. There's stuff I should have asked you about. A lot of stuff, I guess."
"No, you shouldn't have." She gripped the arm of Emma's letterman jacket. "You needed support and time, not to worry about my personal drama."
Emma hopped up on the counter next to her, regret heavy inside her. "What happened?"
"It's not important."
"Regina, please. Come on, we trust each other, don't we?"
The debate in Regina's mind played out on her face. Finally, she consented with a small nod. "You needed," she hesitated. "I thought you needed me. People were patient at first, everyone assumed that I was just doing a good deed by spending time with you. After a time, some of them began to make me aware I was no longer welcome around them. Not all of them, but enough. The ones I used to spend most of my time with now treat me as an acquaintance. No longer one of them. My mother noticed my lack of higher-profile social engagements and gatherings. She talked to one of the parents who are members of the same country club. They informed her they hadn't seen me around their daughter for quite some time, that they thought I hung around a different crowd now."
"She took away your car?"
"She did what she always does. She ignored me, then began trying to force me back into compliance. Successful people lead in social areas, as well as scholastic ones. They influence others in every sector of their lives."
Even now, she could see Regina trying to be strong, shoulders back, expression hard. Pain, held back for a long time, cracked through.
Emma turned Regina's hand over, pressing their fingertips together. "I'm sorry."
"It truly doesn't matter."
Emma's heart balked then rallied against the numbness encasing it. "Stop. What else?"
"She gave away most of my good shoes, boxed them up and donated them. I came home one day and they were just gone. She won't pay for anything until I 'recognize my foolishness.' Prom. College. She won't — she said she wouldn't help." She kept trying to show only strength, head up, sitting straight. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to earn several scholarships; they should pay for almost everything." Regina rubbed her fingers up and down against her forehead. "I suspected what she would do, even planned for it, but she surprised even me with that last one."
"Because of me."
Regina turned toward her, her gaze challenging Emma's guilt. "You are my best friend. That pursuit of excellence taught me to prioritize. Just, for once, it wasn't my primary concern. I made a choice. Just as I have regarding many other things."
"Okay, so what if you stop hanging out with us?"
"Absolutely not."
"You're a senior. This is supposed to be the best year of your high school life. There's still a couple of months of school left. You could try and get everything back. We could just do the stealth thing again."
"Emma, it's out of the question. She can convince me to do many things, and I have scraped and bowed to that person I am trying to be for a long time." She pulled Emma's hand into her lap. "But I won't hide our friendship anymore."
Emma laughed helplessly; worried, sad and proud of Regina at the same time. "Right."
"I'm not always a particularly brave person, not when it comes to straying from the beaten path, but I'd like to try just this once."
"Can I just remind you you're the one who came up with the dares? So maybe you're doing better than you think."
"The hardest part hasn't been the financial ministrations of my mother."
"What is?"
"Emma, we don't have to —"
"Regina," Emma whispered and linked their fingers together.
"I've been feeling panicked and anxious lately. The college classes help, but it's like I'm constantly worried there's a test in five minutes that I forgot about and didn't study for. I can't seem to control it. Around my mother, and whenever I see my ex-friends in a group, it's difficult not to feel that I failed. I've never failed, Emma." She must have carried the burden of those thoughts for months. Alone, probably. "Perhaps I should have been smart enough to find a way to be your friend and manage my reputation."
Emma tried to make her smile. "Because high school cliques are all about flexibility, and so is your mom."
It worked, at least a little.
The bell sounded and they both made a face. "You're late," Emma said and bounced to the ground. She turned her back to face Regina. "Want a ride?"
"You're offering me a piggyback ride?"
"I'm offering a first class shuttle from here to your class. Come on, this Mercedes is ready to go."
"You realize we'll make a spectacle of ourselves?"
"So?"
For the first time in the entire conversation, the vivaciousness of the Regina who had come over to her house to bake emerged. "Then, the least you can do is make appropriate car-related noises."
Emma did her best imitation of a car engine gunning as Regina draped her arms and legs around her.
People who saw them tittered and didn't know what to make of them. Emma screeched to a halt and Regina slid off her back. She stalked into class, poise never faltering.
Emma's heart struggled to stay above the numbness. It sank and bobbed up over and over. She still didn't know how to move on with her life without her mom. She just didn't want to be a draining gap in her friend's lives. She especially didn't want to leave Regina alone.
From that day, challenging or not, she stayed present.
##########################################
Emma explained to the others what she wanted to do. Zelena brought it to life, organizing the details and thinking of things the rest of them wouldn't have.
They met in the high school parking lot on prom night. Emma told Regina that the gang wanted to meet there, then head to a restaurant or something.
They pulled up in Emma's Volvo. Archie and Jefferson waited for them, leaning against a white Impala that belonged to Archie's mom.
Regina crossed toward them, Emma ambling behind her. "Where's my sister?"
A high beeping signaled the arrival of Zelena, speeding up in a golf cart. Balloons hung from metal bars holding up the roof. Band music blared from speakers near the steering wheel. From the front grill, across the top and all the way to the rear flip seat hung multi-colored Christmas lights.
Zelena had used her powers of persuasion to borrow it from one of the guys at school. His family lived in a subdivision with a golf club and accordingly had their own vehicle. Zelena bought materials and supervised adorning it.
She climbed out, taking a plastic crown and sceptre and a feather boa from the front seat. "We, the Five Flames of Abigail Adams High School, proclaim Regina Mills queen of...well, whatever the hell you want to be queen of." She decorated her sister, placing each item in the proper place. "Long may you reign. Now." She waved to the parking lot. "You may take your victory lap."
Regina proclaimed them all lunatics with a raised eyebrow.
Emma bowed. "Your Majesty," she said and pointed to the cart while taking the driver's seat. "It's not homecoming queen, but…what woman hasn't wanted to be Golf Cart Queen deep down."
"You remembered that? What I said about wanting to be homecoming queen?"
Most of the words Regina said to her were immediately highlighted and bolded in her brain. Emma gave a giant "I didn't do anything" shrug. "Thank your sister. She did all the deco, well, she bought it and told us what to do. And she put together some other stuff."
"What other stuff?" Emma kept her face very blank. Getting nothing more from Emma, Regina faced her sister. "Thank you, sis." Regina said softly.
Zelena cleared her throat, uncomfortable and uncertain about how to respond to gratitude. "Move along, you two. We have reservations, and I have a date later. Just because none of you wanted to go to prom doesn't mean I can't enjoy the festivities."
Jefferson considered the golf cart, head tilted. "You know, we should have taken one of those down Widowmaker Hill."
Zelena glared at him. "Don't even."
Emma turned the key to start the ignition and Regina slid into the cart beside her. The rest of their friends crossed to the middle of the lot, waving to Regina as she and Emma circled the edges of the asphalt.
"Do the queen wave," Jefferson said. Regina rolled her eyes, but she cupped her hand and gave a much more royal wave.
Two laps later, Regina insisted on driving. "My right as queen," she said.
When she relinquished the cart, she put her crown on Archie's head and bequeathed him a turn.
Afterwards, they went to a casual pizza restaurant where they presented Regina with her graduation present, an engraved silver box that read, "The Regina Mills, your mother sucks Five Flames Grant."
"Open it," Archie said when Regina stared at it in confusion.
Regina's mother still threatened to withhold financial support. Regina planned to get a part time job to make up the difference after her scholarships. Emma and the others had talked about it. They decided that going to Harvard was a hefty transition on its own, and Regina should focus on her studies.
Archie sold his Wii. Emma asked for a small advance on her inheritance. Jefferson painted the outside of a few of his neighbors' houses. Zelena sold several pieces of jewelry. They gathered all of their efforts into about two thousand dollars.
Regina lifted the paper folded in half, bearing the Five Flames insignia. When she opened it, a check slid into her hands. She stared at it, then lifted her eyes to the group, not understanding. When the shock faded, she shook her head. "No, I can't take this from your parents, Archie."
"It's from us," Archie explained. "All of us. Just, none of us had a checking account."
"I pawned the diamond earrings Mom gave me because she's angry with you," Zelena said airily. "So, in a way, it's partly her money."
She kept her eyes on the gift as if confronted with something alien and incomprehensible. "I can't take this."
Regina Mills had entered high school with a plan. She dedicated herself to it completely, creating the flawless vision she wanted others to see. She believed any imperfection invalidated the whole, and anything she received from others was conditional.
She set the paper and the gift back in the box, pushing it an inch away from herself.
Jefferson leaned over the table, serious, and moved it back. "It's yours."
One by one, Archie, Zelena and Emma agreed.
"I'm so rarely not a bitch," Zelena said softly. "You have to take it."
Regina turned to Zelena. For just a second, they connected completely. "Well," she said, voice husky as she tried to gather her emotions back into a neat pile. "I suppose that's true."
She stood and smoothed her skirt. "Come here, all of you," she said and extended her arms to them. Emma watched the gang surround Regina, folding themselves into a group hug. Before she joined, Emma took it all in. For the first time since her mom died, she let herself feel happy.
After a lot of pizza, they went to PLB. There, they shared a bottle of alcohol Archie stole from his parent's cabinet (Jefferson literally applauded him). Near morning, they traded more hugs, and went their separate ways.
Except Emma asked Regina to go for a walk, and they wound up in front of a very familiar house.
"I'm fairly sure we're trespassing."
Emma pointedly didn't let her eyes wander anywhere except the towering oak tree near the sidewalk. The alcohol still in her system spurred a false bravery, but even it had limits. "We won't be staying very long."
"Are you okay, being here?" Regina's words were hesitant, trying to walk the line between words that might bring up too much, and offering Emma a way to admit her pain.
"Yeah, for now. This is important." She knelt down, pulling a lock blade from her pocket and opening it.
"What are you doing?"
"Carving our initials."
Regina swirled around, eyes darting in every direction as if expecting the entire police force to show up at any moment. "But this isn't your — isn't this vandalism?"
Emma squinted at her, brain sloshing a little as she thought. "Probably."
"You'll hurt the tree."
"I'm pretty sure that's an urban myth."
Regina waved her hand in an exaggerated motion, also not quite sober. "You'll disturb the tree's aesthetic."
Emma snorted but she lowered the tip of her knife. "Okay, how about here?" She uncovered the tree root. When Regina didn't object, she wrote an "E.N." with great care. She offered Regina the handle. "Now you."
"But we did this at PLB; damaging the picnic table wasn't enough?"
"That was a Flames thing. This is an us thing."
Regina's reservations gave way to something much stronger, and maybe her inhibitions were dulled. She bent and placed her initials under Emma's, taking twice as long. Having stood, Emma peered down to figure out why.
"You're using script?"
"Excellence, Emma." She lifted her chin, righteous with alcoholic influence. "Anything worth doing is worth doing right."
"It's a frickin' tree."
"Still."
Regina pushed the dirt and leaves back into place, covering the markings. "There." She rose and brushed off her hands.
Emma realized Regina would really be leaving, then chastised herself for being overly dramatic. When Regina started school they'd only be separated by an hour of driving time.
Still, their entire worlds kept changing.
She didn't let her gaze wander toward the house. Regina did, but not for long.
Eventually, Emma shrugged one shoulder. "Let's go."
Neither of them wanted to leave one another just yet. They walked back to Archie's and snuck up to Emma's room.
"Okay, one more thing. Close your eyes," Emma said. They sat on Emma's bed, still a bit buzzed.
When Regina obeyed, she took off her beloved Letterman's jacket and placed it in Regina's hands. Regina's eyes opened wide. "This is too much. You all have already…"
"No," Emma said sternly. "Don't do the bullshit thing where you're all 'ooooh I can't possibly take this,' because I know you like it and it's mine to give you if I want."
Regina stopped protesting and quietly slid her arms into the sleeves. Her face shone, and her overflowing heart reflected in the way she gazed at Emma.
Emma's heart, made wise by the sadness of loss, recognized the depth of Regina's feelings for her for the first time. She couldn't face it, the emptiness inside her still too consuming.
Regina, unaware of the revelation, teased her. "I do think it looks better on me. To be fair."
Emma smiled, dodging, refocusing on the familiarity of their friendship. "Right."
"I don't think you sound sincere."
"All I said was 'right'."
"But you said it in that way."
"You hyper-analyze that word way too much."
They fell asleep next to one another, holding hands. That had happened a lot since Emma's mom died, but they didn't usually touch.
The night before Regina went to college, they talked half the night. They spoke about Emma maybe coming to live with her after freshman year, maybe getting an apartment together.
Around three a.m., Regina lying on her side on Emma's bed, whispered, "Would it sound terribly stupid if I asked you to hold me for a bit? I suddenly feel unsure about a great many things."
She scooted over to make room. When Regina lay down, Emma drew her close. "Like what?"
"Harvard. This path I wanted. I don't feel any excitement about going. Shouldn't I?"
Emma's fingers stroked the softness of her hair. Regina sounded hunted by her uncertainty, scared, crouched down and hiding. "Maybe it's nerves?"
"It's not just college. What if my mother follows through on her threat to not help me financially? A part-time job or perhaps a full-time one on top of school? What if I can't manage it all?"
"You can."
"You don't know that. My mother and my family's money has paved so many paths for me. Half of my popularity was because of who my family is. We always threw brunches and get togethers for my friends."
"My invitation must have gotten lost."
"Sometimes I feel as if I've been holding on to a handrail for a long time. Propping myself up. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing." The bridge of Regina's nose skimmed Emma's jawline. Her breathing grazed Emma's lower lip.
She closed her eyes to avoid the rise of need answering the press of Regina's body. Regina shifted, hands settling on Emma's shoulders. Another movement, closer, Regina's fingers tracing the line of her cheek. She touched the edges of her hair, fingers parting through the strands there.
Her assurances weakened, distracted. "I think, I think —" The two words stuttered from her. "You aren't giving yourself enough credit. You faced down your mom this year, didn't you?"
"For you, yes."
Emma fought to keep her head clear so she could be the friend Regina needed. "But, you did."
Regina's fingers toyed with the collar of Emma's shirt. "Yes, I suppose I did."
Emma tried not to shiver from the thick, warm pulses of pleasure traveling through her veins. She defied every caution to stray close to temptation, playing with the boundary between friendship and something else. She lowered her head to Regina's neck, nuzzling skin. Their hips swayed against one another.
She clenched her teeth as the bulk of her energy devoted itself to withstand the battering of her desires. Her body taunted her with how easy it would be to sink into the promises of gratification. The prolonged intimacy chipped away at the strength that usually allowed her to hold back.
Regina lifted her head, and it shocked Emma to see hunger glittering in her eyes. Regina lay half-atop her, it didn't escape Emma that with a small shift, she might straddle her stomach. The moment assaulted them with so many different needs.
"Emma?"
The shakiness of Regina's voice unleashed Emma's protective instincts. She reminded herself of every silent vow she'd ever made to create a haven for Regina when they were together.
She couldn't deal with any of these feelings. Not now. Not so soon after losing her mother.
She broadcast the word "don't" in her gaze. She didn't want to have to form her denial into words.
Maybe one day they would talk about everything.
"You're going to do great," Emma said, grappling for a way to say something important but not force them to confront fuller truths. "College is a whole new world for you to conquer, right? New people and experiences and all that stuff."
Regina nodded, as if Emma's plea for her to stop had been spoken aloud. She didn't finish what she started to say and tucked her head under Emma's chin instead.
They didn't talk more and didn't let go of one another till morning.
#############################################
Apple Valley, Ma
The Present
/Previously
"I'm sorry, I suppose I let us get distracted from the reason I brought you here. This isn't about us. The others are worried about you. You've withdrawn. And it sounds like it's not just from them."
After two years of time and distance, her heart should be fortified against Regina's influence. Emma couldn't stop her own yearning to give, to share. But letting Regina in, especially now, would invite demolition into her purposefully small world.
"Before, at the arena, you told me that I didn't understand. What haven't you said? I know that losing the fight is tangled with your feelings about your mother. I know you wanted to win for her."
Not wanted, needed, came a whisper from the largest, most hidden cage.
Emma shook her head and got back on the bike, hands hanging at her sides.
In the increasing silence, Regina finally drew in a deep breath and backed up. "The debrief is tomorrow. I want to remind you of the way we used to do things. We're honest. No deflections and no minimizing. Which is all you've been doing since the reunion at the bar. When it comes to you, I know the difference, Emna. And if you do it tomorrow, I will call you out."
/End of Previously
The Five Flames sat at the picnic table and Jefferson passed Emma a flask.
"So, Regina and Emma," Archie said. "I assume you both completed the challenge?"
Emma let Regina answer for both of them. "We did," she said. "Emma challenged me to skateboard down Widowmaker Hill. I will remind you all again that the name is inaccurate in every way. I challenged her to —"
"You went down Widowmaker Hill?" Zelena asked. "And I missed it? Emma, tell me you got a video."
Regina glared at her sister. "If we could please move past your personal amusement? I challenged Emma to return to the arena where she lost. "
Jefferson sucked in a breath and his eyes stayed on Emma for a beat, checking on her.
"Well," Archie said, taking back the reins of the meeting. "Regina, since you started, why don't you tell us about what happened with you?"
"I passed, as Emma can confirm." She rubbed her hands back and forth against one another, gathering her thoughts. "But, I also did something that wasn't part of the original dare."
Her mouth twisted. "When I dropped out of college, I thought I had finally torn myself free from my mother and from my own narrow vision of success. But after I completed my training and apprenticeship as a baker, my mother visited me for the first time in over a year. She offered me an easy path. A safe way forward. So instead of going into business for myself, I took the job on the local morning show. I told myself that I wasn't giving up on the idea of opening my own bakery. In fact, I imagined that if I gained a little bit of popularity, it might make things easier. I might be approached by banks and investors instead of having to go to them hat in hand "
Emma couldn't escape the sight of self-recrimination in Regina's eyes. Her heart reached for her. This was what she'd been afraid of. She wanted to stay in the water, and Regina's proximity called her to land. A burning light in a lighthouse that beckoned her home.
Regina sighed, frustrated with herself. "Then they gave me my own show. I kept coming up with reasons to put off what I really wanted to do. And even after they made me a glorified puppet of food trends and statistics, I stayed rather than take the risk of failing."
Regina reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I'm tired of it. This is a letter of resignation. If I can actually find the courage, I intend to give my notice on Monday. On Tuesday, to further prompt myself, I have appointments with loan managers at two different banks to try and secure funds for a bakery. As I should have done years ago."
Archie wrapped his arm around her and lay his head on her shoulder briefly. "I think just writing that letter is a big step."
Zelena's lips were pressed in a line. "Mom is going to go ballistic." She paused, then reached out and touched Regina's knee. "It's a good thing, though. And me already being a huge disappointment will be a plus."
"She's wrong," Regina said softly. "Obviously, you're horrible in a dozen ways, but — not in that one."
The two sisters shared a brief smile.
The corner of Jefferson's mouth lifted. "You know, if things don't work out, I might be able to get you a job as a bartender. Flexible schedule. Employee discount on drinks. The good life."
Emma's hands became fists. She punched into her pockets, that old festering wound overgrowing, cracking the place she kept it in.
"I'm terrified," Regina said, "I've been completely nauseous the entire day."
"But you didn't tear up the letter or anything, "Jefferson pointed out.
"No, I didn't."
Zelena tried to offer encouragement. "Our mother threw everything she could at you in your senior year of high school, then again after you quit Harvard. You've already survived the worst she can do."
Regina stared at the letter. "I should talk to her before handing this in." Her hand pressed to her stomach and she drew in a shaky breath. "She's my mother and I'm an adult; I shouldn't feel like a child facing off against a dragon."
"What advice would you give if Zelena had to go talk to her?" Archie asked.
"I'd tell her to be careful of Mother's teeth. And to treat it like a covert operation. Go in, get the job done and get out of there as quickly as possible."
Zelena nodded before adding her own thoughts. "If all else fails, toss meat at her and escape out the bathroom window." A pleasant smile crossed her lips. "Since you had such a life-changing revelation, does that mean we're all forgiven?"
"Not even a little," Regina said without hesitation.
"Thought I'd give it a try. We also hoped the two of you might talk. Did you?"
Regina flitted a glance to Emma, not sure what to say.
"We did," Emma said. "We both have a lot going on. We'll have to see."
Jefferson frowned, his bullshit detector going off. His face tightened in agitation.
Emma felt Archie's eyes, could see his disappointment with her answer. She realized how many times she'd spoken similar flaky words to him about any number of things.
"What happened between us isn't Emma's fault," Regina interrupted, stealing all eyes back to her. "It was mine. Emma's fighting scared me. We argued about it, and I gave her an ultimatum."
Jefferson took off his beanie, tossing it to the table, then banged his forehead against the hard surface. "Jesus, you two."
Regina frowned. "What?"
He opened his mouth to answer and Archie hit him in the arm. Hard.
Jefferson turned wide eyes towards him. "Okay, ow."
Emma couldn't help it, she defended Regina. "We talked about that though. She apologized. Just, time has gone by. A lot of changes."
Instead of offering a hint of gratitude, Regina glowered at her, her anger surging. "That's a euphemism for abdicating choice and ascribing the reason to supernatural forces."
So much for being nice, Emma grumbled to herself. "You know, I'm not required to just get over what you did."
"Of course not, and I would certainly understand if you never do, but at least own your reaction."
"I am. I'm saying I need time."
"That is not what you are saying. That, I could understand. You're making excuses to avoid making any decision at all."
"You know, it would be nice if you quit acting like you know everything there is to know about me."
Regina chuckled mockingly. "Emma, I have a newsflash for that elevated ego of yours: you are not that complicated."
"Look, guys," Jefferson said, "they're talking again."
"Um, Emma," Archie took advantage of Jefferson's distraction to carefully break in. "Maybe we should talk about your dare now?"
After completing a challenge the person always did a debrief. It wasn't unreasonable. It fueled her fury anyway. "Fine. We went to the arena where I lost my title shot. Pure fun. Site of my greatest personal failure, nothing but good times."
The cutting sarcasm made the others shift uncomfortably and give one another uncertain glances.
Archie, though, stayed with her. "That sounds difficult."
"Don't do the fucking psychology thing with me, Arch," she growled at him. His wounded expression pierced her heart and she grimaced. "Look, I'm not good at talking. You guys know that."
"That's always kind of been the point," Zelena said. "We're a mess, all of us. But we push one another to be a little better. Which is why we thought this would be a good way to honor your mother."
The invocation of her mom crowded in and cornered her. Instinctively, Emma stood. "I don't know what you all want me to say."
"The truth," Jefferson said, leading the charge. The others nodded in agreement.
"I'm not lying."
Because that would be a decision, she thought, paraphrasing Regina's words from earlier.
"But are you being honest?" Regina asked, her voice changing from annoyed to beseeching. "Honesty, respect, confidentiality," she said; not a challenge or an argument, just a simple reminder. "Just...try."
Emma's heart demanded she not abandon their mutual stare. All of Regina's advice in high school, notes in lockers, soft confessions and the smell of freshly-baked cookies stood in stark contrast to where they were now.
She dragged her fingers through her hair. "There's a lot I've been trying to figure out since I lost that fight. Going to the arena didn't change that. It didn't give me any answers or revelations or anything." She circled the picnic table. "I don't want to let you, or her, down." Her voice softened. "More than I have. My mo —" The word unlocked padlocks and released chains around a wound.
She tensed her jaw, wanting to keep the cage shut. "Mom." She shook her head, trying to get past that one word. "I...I resented her. For trying to show me a better way of living and for wanting me to be a good person. She wanted to take me to plays and art galleries, and I could have given a few hours of my time here and there. What — what would it have cost me? She was great, my mom. You all knew it. I knew it too. But I didn't say it. I made her feel like she was a burden. I didn't let her see that I was listening, even when it looked like I wasn't."
The world blurred and she rubbed away tears with her fingertips. "I think I let her down. Especially in the last year of her life. I could have done so much more for her, with her. I avoided her, like she was this nuisance."
Regina stood while she spoke, hands clenched.
"Emma," Archie said her name gently. "You were a teenager. You were asserting your independence and testing your limits. That's what teenagers do."
"But it doesn't matter, Arch. I made her feel…"
"The army, a cop, even the MMA," Regina whispered. "You've been trying, this whole time, to show your mom what she meant to you. Because you're afraid she didn't know."
"No. That's — that's not what I am fucking saying."
In the arena, her body tackled to the mat.
Blow after blow against her face.
The sound of the crowd celebrating.
I'm sorry, Mom.
She took a running start and slammed her foot into one of the lawn chairs. It skidded over the concrete floor, coming to rest near the wall. "God damn it," she shouted. She crouched down, hands covering her face, shoulders shaking. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
Regina reached her first, kneeling beside her. She drew Emma's wrists down. "Emma."
Emma kept her eyes shut, stubbornly holding back tears. The others drew close, sitting or kneeling around her.
In a hoarse whisper, Emma said, "I wasn't a very good daughter."
The words had — secretly, destructively — hidden behind every thought she'd had about her mother since she died. They were the cages and the monsters inside them. They had stood in the ring during her fight and in every dream she'd had about it since. They counted her out, and announced her failure to the crowd.
"No." Regina all but pulled Emma into her lap, cradling her. "Emma, no." The Flames gathered closer, touching her back and shoulders.
"If I can't win — if can't make it up to her..." Tears broke free, taking her apart. Her body quaked as they escaped. "What do I do?" The raw question fragmented her voice. "I don't know what to do."
Emma pounded her knuckles to her forehead, wanting her mind to give her a solution, a way forward. Sick of it being useless.
With the last bit of fight in her, Emma tried to push Regina back, not believing she deserved comfort. Regina held on. After that, her sobs transformed her; moaning softly and only half human in her pain.
Regina whispered her name and didn't let her go.
When Emma quieted, Regina cupped her face. "I told your mother that you were looking out for Archie and Jefferson. Not long after you started. She didn't look surprised. She was so proud of you. "
Jefferson nodded. "The one time she got to see you wrestle — she yelled louder than anyone there."
"Every time you commented on a piece or presented one in Arts into Action, she lit up," Zelena added. "Totally annoying. And also lovely."
Archie offered Emma a tissue from a pack in his pocket. "She pulled me aside once and told me she was glad I was your friend. I think she worried she wasn't always a good mom."
Emma remembered the "I love you" sign her mother had given her that first day in the hospital. The joy lighting her eyes, the tranquility of her expression. At that moment she transformed into a beacon of the love she felt for her daughter.
Emma thought about the question her mother had asked during the first meeting of Arts into Action. Does true love exist? That's up to you.
Maybe, she thought, after someone died, they left behind judgments of good or bad. Those qualifiers fading as their understanding became infinite. What if Emma had witnessed, not just a moment, but transcendence: her mom becoming a new creation who simply, perfectly loved and knew the hearts of those around her. No words left unsaid. No doubts. No misunderstandings.
Maybe too at that moment, her mom gave her something. A part of herself; a little piece of her light. In her grief, Emma might have missed it; the gift from her mother. So maybe it had remained in the dusty attic of her heart till she understood.
When several flames touch, the light they produce is increased, her mom had said. We give to others, and we think it's just a moment. Or even a series of moments. But, I believe — I truly believe — love survives. Beyond everything else, what we give to one another always burns bright.
"Can I be done?" Emma asked, needing time to think. "At least for now?
Archie squeezed her hand. "Is there anything we can do for you right now, Emma?"
"I don't know. Just...can we all just hang out for a while?"
A pure unfettered grin rose on his lips. "We can do that."
They talked for a few more hours. About Mary Margaret and then about their lives. Regina sat next to her even when Emma disentangled herself. Before they left each other, Jefferson and Archie pushed Emma to give her word they'd all have lunch the following week, and this time she didn't balk. They all exchanged several rounds of hugs — even she and Regina.
She went home, thoughts churning and prodding. She wanted to do something, stood on the precipice of action but couldn't quite decide where to go. After pacing her apartment and trying to quiet her head by working out, she decided to take a ride on her bike.
She knew where she would probably go — eventually. But first, she wanted to clear her head. She remembered the letterman jacket in her saddlebag and despite the heat, she slid it on.
She placed her headphones over her ears, finding a song she hadn't listened to in a year and a half. The bold, feisty guitar solo started and then the irreverent pounding of drums. The two proclaimed independence as the chanting, "Thunder," began.
####################################
"Can you meet me at Mom's house?"
After sending the first text she'd sent to Regina in close to two years, she waited, leaning against her bike. Regina drove up in her black Mercedes, bought with her own funds this time.
Emma couldn't stop the small smile itching at the corners of her mouth. So much about Regina had never changed.
"Emma?" Her heels clacked rapidly against the asphalt as she approached. She hadn't even bothered to shut her car door. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," she said, moving around Regina and closing the door for her. "Hey." Emma fidgeted with the buttons on her letterman jacket.
"I was going to call you tomorrow and check on you. I know I have no right to but, well, I was going to anyway." She cast a look around them. "You know these people will eventually phone the police if we continue loitering here on a regular basis."
"I know, it just...seemed like a good place."
"For what?"
"Can I tell you about something? A — thought, I guess, that I had earlier?"
"I find myself uncertain of the right protocol for a very old and estranged friend asking you to meet at their old house to tell you a thought. Should we sit?"
"You're assuming I know." Emma buried her hands in her pockets and walked to the old oak tree a few feet away, digging her fingers into the bark. "When we came here yesterday, it felt unbearable to be here."
"And now?"
"It's okay." She loathed how hard it could be sometimes for her to find words. "I mean, it's...it hurts, but it also makes me remember good stuff."
Regina joined her, leaning back against the tree. A trickle of wind fought some of the heat and pushed her hair back from her face. Emme remembered standing like this when they were in high school, the street lights silent sentinels. The same ones were still here.
"I've been pretty fucked up for a while, I guess. And earlier, it's not like it fixed everything. But I feel better than I've felt in a long time. Since the fight, maybe. Or since Mom died. But I'm not okay yet, I don't think."
Emma told her about the thoughts she'd had at Poe's Leaky Barn — about the nature of love, what people became, and the flame they left behind.
Talking could be such a struggle for her and now, she spoke in starts and stops, taking a long time. "Do you think, maybe, any of that — I mean, it might be bullshit. A nice story I'm telling myself. But there's this thing I've been carrying and, when I started thinking that way, it got lighter."
"My understanding of life's truths is a work in progress but lies usually allow us to avoid what we don't want to acknowledge. That doesn't seem to be what you're doing now. You're being exceptionally brave."
Hearing that from Regina, especially from Regina, solidified her thoughts and her peace a little more.
"I," Emma paused and drew in a deep breath. "I needed to tell someone. Well, not someone. You."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
Regina whispered, "Why?"
"Why..." Rocks clogged Emma's throat as she countered Regina's question with one of her own. "What's the real reason you couldn't watch me fight?"