Thanks so much for your lovely messages regarding the first two chapters! Hope you enjoy this one, as well!
Time seems to stop as she watches them play. She catches the way Henry stops to grin at her whenever he makes a good move, then grins back proudly while she cheers him on.
And then there's that man... with those lips and that hair and those arms, and those eyes he can't seem to take off of her.
Attraction unlike any she's ever felt before blooms within her, putting thoughts in her head that shouldn't be there, like the idea of tasting that smirk he keeps biting into when he looks at her, or the need to feel the texture of his stubble, of the firm, solid muscles that flex under his shirt as he moves...
"Who are you?" a tiny voice interrupts from her left, and Regina turns to find an adorable dimpled face, with big brown eyes and the cutest little nose, staring up at her from under a mop of dark curls.
"I'm Regina, who are you?" she asks kindly.
"I'm Roland!" he replies excitedly, and yes, she supposes that would be him. Robin's son.
"Ah, of course, you were playing with Henry earlier."
"You know Henry?!" he asks, his big eyes going round and startled at the new information.
"I do," she explains. "We're friends. He just introduced me to your father."
As if on cue, Robin lets out a frustrated grunt from where he's just been thwarted by Henry, the boy celebrating his goal with his arms outstretched and running around the yard.
Roland is not impressed.
"That's cheating!" he shouts at Henry, and Regina has to fight against the amused smile forming on her lips at the sheer outrage on his face. "You know Daddy sucks! You can't let him play when I go to the bathroom!"
"Hey, now!" Robin starts, "I don't know where you two got this idea that I'm such a terrible player. I coach your soccer team every summer, remember?"
"Yeah and we always lose," Roland retorts pointedly, making his father laugh.
"Alright," he admits, hands raised in surrender, "fair enough. Henry, that goal is cancelled, let Roland play you for the championship."
Both boys are eager to get at it, so the adult (and she uses that term loosely, considering he's just gotten petulantly competitive with two boys under ten) leaves the field and finds a seat next to her on the bench.
For a few silent moments, they just watch, laughing at the banter between Roland and Henry, and then Roland scores, and wins, and Robin erases Henry's scowl with the promise that they'll all go for ice cream anyway.
"You're coming, too, right, Regina?" Henry asks, his smile so big she can't find it in herself to say no, despite the nagging feeling in her stomach that she's intruding on their time.
"Oh, please, do," Robin insists before she can nod her head, "we'd love to have you."
And that is how she finds herself at an ice cream shop in the middle of winter, grinning at Henry and Roland as they almost shake with excitement.
"Chunky monkey?" Robin asks, and Roland and Henry cheer in unison, but Regina raises an eyebrow.
"Look at this figure, do I look like I eat chunky monkey?" She retorts, and then blushes, mortified because she has no idea where the hell that came from. Her mother, probably, that sounds like something Cora would say.
Robin, thankfully, only laughs at her comment, and bows with a flourish as he gestures toward the counter, adding a, "Pick your poison, then, milady," and flashing her a dimpled smile that is so reminiscent of Roland's, for a moment she has a hard time believing they're not biologically related.
It's as she's perusing her options, trying to decide between a seasonal scoop of peppermint bark and her trusty favorite mint chocolate chip, that Robin leans in, and replies to her ridiculous quip.
"By the way," he says, his voice low in her ear as he leans in, just close enough to keep the children from hearing, "It is a nice figure."
She can feel her cheeks flaming a bright red as she straightens, looking at him, taking in the little flirty chuckle he gives her as he adds, "I'm quite certain there's nothing that could change how incredibly gorgeous you are, Regina, least of all ice cream."
He has no idea how much those words touch her. How much they erase the embarrassment she's been feeling since she opened her big mouth. His flattery replaces her shame with a warmth that has her smiling at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
She turns to their server, asks for the peppermint bark flavor, and then has him add an extra scoop of chunky monkey to Robin's order.
"Half for me, half for you," she explains when he gives her a quizzical look. "And don't you dare start on it without me," she threatens when he laughs and grabs a spoon.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he assures her, and there's something in the way he speaks, something in how much he flirts just by looking at her, that makes this tingly thing inside her grow stronger.
He grins at her, handsome and interested... and then pays for everything without her knowledge, while she and the boys are still choosing toppings (she opts for hot fudge, while Roland and Henry cover their portions in all kinds of sprinkles).
"You shouldn't have done that," she tells him, tries to pay him back.
"It's just ice cream, Regina, don't worry about it," he says kindly, and no, she doesn't like it when others pay for things she's perfectly capable of paying for, and—
"Besides," he adds, distracting her from her mental tirade, "I promised Henry it would be my treat."
She relents at that, turns to watch the boy in question happily munching on his Chunky Monkey, and a sense of ease washes over her at the sight.
"He's a special boy," Robin murmurs behind her, and she turns back to him, smiles again as she answers.
"He truly is."
They're outside of the shop now, and Roland and Henry are settling in by one of the booths near the entrance. They're playing as they eat, trying to find cars with Christmas decor on them (Roland seems better able to notice the ones with reindeer antlers, but Henry is a master at spotting tiny Santa hats on antennas). The sun is shining, but it's still cold enough that the heat lamps around them offer a welcome respite from the chilly air.
Ironic when she's sitting here eating cold sugar.
But then, she's not really cold, is she? No, not with those two adorable boys laughing and stealing glances at her from where they sit, their smiles warming her up from the inside. Not with this handsome man sitting beside her and licking spoonful after spoonful of ice cream, making heat flicker low in her belly.
"So... Henry tells me you adopted Roland a few years ago?" Regina asks, as they sit on a bench and let the children have the booth to themselves. She's delighted when her choice of topic has Robin nodding easily as he watches his son.
"I knew his mother. Marian. She, uh... she had... problems. From what I could find out about her, she didn't have the best upbringing, and later fell in with the wrong crowd, became an addict. I happened to be at the hospital checking on a patient one night when she came in needing assistance."
"You're a doctor?" she asks around her bite of peppermint bark. Because he doesn't look it, not really. He's in jeans and a hoodie, after all, not even a coat to keep off winter's chill...
Robin nods at her, confirms, "Pediatrician."
She's impressed, and it must show on her face, because he's grinning knowingly at her, biting his lower lip and flashing her those dimples.
"So Marian came in..." she prompts, trying to stop the giddy somersaults in the pit of her stomach.
"She had a gash on her arm that needed suturing. She said she'd accidentally broken a window. I remember she was this tiny, wispy thing. So tired. It wasn't really part of my job to tend to her, but something pulled me to her, to try and help her. I stitched her up, bought her a burger at the diner nearby, and then pulled some strings so she could get a room at the hospital for the night."
"That's noble of you," Regina says with a hint of admiration.
"She was just sixteen, and she had no one," he says after swallowing a mouthful of ice cream. "It didn't sit right with me to just go home and leave her like that. The next day I went to that diner for breakfast like I always do and brought her along. She thanked me for everything, and I offered to do more, to find her somewhere she could go for counseling, help her get better. But..."
"She didn't want your help," she fills in when he seems at a loss.
"Only when it got her more immediate wounds looked after and a free meal, it seems, not so much the rest of the time," he says with a sad smile.
"What happened after? How did you end up with Roland?" Regina prods, absorbed in the tale.
"After that night, she'd stop by the diner sometimes, just to let me know she was okay. She wasn't, really, but... at least on her good days she saw fit to make sure I knew she was alive. I would insist she let me help but she never took me up on the offer. Until one day I never heard from her again. I was afraid something had happened, but other than her name, I didn't have much to go on when looking for her. And then she showed up one night, seven months pregnant and in labor. Resulting from some manner of binge she went on that night."
Regina doesn't hear herself gasp, but Robin must, because he stops looking at Roland, looks back at her and reassures her, "It was touch and go for a while. Marian died a couple of hours after giving birth and her prematurely delivered child was left dealing with the consequences of her drug use."
"That poor boy," she mutters sympathetically, looking at a laughing, bouncing, blissfully unaware Roland with tears in her eyes. Robin nods, continues his story.
"When the baby was released, he was four months old and still had no name. Social Services took him, and I lost track of him for about a year. When I found him, he was a wobbling toddler named Roland, living in a foster home in Phoenix."
"Phoenix?!" she exclaims, though her voice doesn't rise above a whisper.
Robin nods, takes another spoonful of Chunky Monkey, and explains how he flew down to Arizona and met his child.
"And then you adopted him."
"Yes. I held him and I... I can't explain it, it just felt... it felt right."
"You make a good team," Regina observes, smiling when she jokes, "the Dimples Brigade."
He chuckles at that, then looks at his son as he and Henry finish their ice cream, faces sticky with chocolate.
"How much do you know about Henry?" Regina asks then, both dreading and dying to know.
"He comes from the same home Roland was in, back in Arizona, it's why I took an interest in him when he first arrived. His mother had him in prison, and I have no idea what became of her, but he wound up there, then got moved here when that home was shut down. He's stubborn, and can be a little moody, but he's got a big heart, that boy..."
He trails off, but Regina knows he's not done talking yet. Just finding the words to continue. So she waits, looks at him patiently.
"After I adopted Roland," he finally goes on, "and with everything that happened with his mother, I... I wanted to be more involved. To do my part so that another child didn't end up like Marian. I signed up for the Big Brother program, and have been visiting Henry about three times a week for the past two years."
Tears build in her eyes, and she's suddenly so thankful that he's there for Henry, that he's making sure he's okay. Again, it strikes her how odd the feeling is, how strange it is to be grateful that one stranger is there for another, and how it doesn't feel like that at all.
She feels it with Henry, that little spark that had been missing with baby Neal, and her gratitude is borne of the fact that someone was there for her son while life saw fit to bring him to her. The knowledge both stuns and thrills her.
Regina savors the last of her peppermint bark ice cream, and then dives her spoon into Robin's Chunky Monkey, taking a generous portion of her half scoop and laughing at his befuddled expression as she eats it.
"What? Didn't think I was kidding, did you?" she teases, and to her delight, he's grinning, shaking his head.
"Of course not," he answers, bowing his head and offering up the ice cream to her. Regina takes another spoonful of it and Mmms at the sweet taste of banana, the crunchiness of walnuts.
He tries to tramp down the groan that leaves him. Oh, how he tries. And Regina answers his embarrassed smile with a smug one of her own.
"Minx," he accuses, making her laugh.
But then he moves closer, just enough that her eyes get caught up in his, only drifting down to look at his lips when his tongue peeks out to wet them.
"Two can play at this game, milady," he taunts, teeth sinking into that lower lip she's been crazy about from the first moment she saw it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Regina tries to counter, tries to sound casual, but her voice comes out far too breathy for it to sound as nonchalant as she pretends to be.
The melodious sound of children's laughter breaks them from their little tête-à-tête, and they turn to find Roland and Henry mimicking them. Henry is batting his eyelashes while Roland presses his elbow onto the table and leans closer, his voice mock-deep and horribly British as he imitates his father with a Milady.
Regina can't help it, bursts out laughing as Robin grumbles that he does not look like that, and then it's her turn to be humiliated, when Henry shrinks his voice to something almost shrill as he pretends to be her.
"Oh, Robin, you're so dreamy!" he says, looking up at the sky and dramatically slapping his hand over his forehead.
"I do not sound like that," she chastises, but it only makes the boys laugh harder.
Robin chuckles at them, at her, and though they let the kids have their fun, they wordlessly agree to put a bit of physical distance between them, so as not to give them more ammo.
And then Henry is running up to her, his face worried and nervous as he asks, "Are you mad at me?"
"No!" Regina assures him, "Why would I be?"
"For teasing you," he answers, voice full of regret.
"Oh, sweetheart, it's okay, that's not something I'd get mad at, don't worry."
"So we're okay?"
"Of course we are," Regina insists, her hand rubbing up and down his arm comfortingly.
"Promise?" Henry prods, still looking apprehensive.
Regina leans forward, her hand moving up to hold his chin gently as she confirms, "I promise," and smiles at him.
He breathes out a sigh of relief, grins at Robin, and off he goes, back to Roland and their little game.
"He likes you," is all Robin says, and it makes her raise an eyebrow at him quizzically.
"He's afraid he'll lose you, it's why he apologized. That means he likes you, he doesn't want you to leave."
"Why would he think I want to leave in the first place?" she asks, "And over something so simple as a joke?"
"Others have abandoned him for less," Robin posits, "he just wants to make sure he doesn't drive you away. Happened a lot the first few weeks I spent with him, like he was somehow afraid that being himself would cost him me and Roland."
"That's horrible," she whispers. "How do I...? I want him to know I'm not leaving."
"There's not much you can do about that except be there," he tells her kindly. "Until he lets himself believe it."
"I will," she vows. "I care about him so much."
"As do I," Robin agrees, and Regina takes advantage of their momentary silence to wipe away the stray tear that escapes the corner of her eye.
Thankfully, Robin doesn't notice, is still looking at the boys as he says, "I'm trying to figure out where he's going, so that I can visit. Tink promised they'd keep him in the state, but there isn't much of a guarantee with these things."
"What do you mean?" she asks, suddenly worried, and his answer is a punch in the gut, knocking the wind right out of her.
"When Henry turns ten, they're moving him to another home, for older children, he won't be here anymore."