She spoils him—she can't help it.
They spend a full day in New York shopping—they start at Macys where one purchase only seems to lead to another. She buys him the basics, along with a few pairs of jeans and shorts, t-shirts and button ups, gym shoes and sandals, and a hoodie that zips up over the hood and makes him look like The Incredible Hulk. With Henry, almost everything is a necessity and by the time they make it to the counter, there's an entire wardrobe in their cart.
She watches the way he looks down at it, his eyes scanning over the layers upon layers of clothing as he mulls over their choices. A smirk forms on her lips as he touches his fingers to the sleeve of the hoodie and he twists the price tag between his fingers.
"You know," he begins, "We don't have to get all of this."
"Yes we do," she replies easily as her eyes shift to Henry and her smirk turns to a grin. "There's no reason not to."
His eyebrows arch and he looks back at the cart, his hazel eyes widening a bit as he absently pets the sleeve of the hoodie. "If you combined all my other birthdays, I don't think I ever got this much."
"Oh, Henry," she says with a soft laugh behind her words. "This isn't for your birthday."
"It's not?" He asks, his brow furrowing as he looks up at her. "Then…why?"
"Because you need things and because…I want to," she tells him, smiling softly.
It's hard to explain, she realizes, how this child she's only really know for a couple of days makes her feel. But whenever she looks at him, her heart flutters and swells—she feels things she hasn't felt in years and she remembers a part of herself she thought had disappeared. When she looks at him, she thinks of the wiggly baby boy she loved so much and her heart clenches—she remembers the day she gave him back, her wholehearted belief that she wasn't enough for him and she remembers how her heart had ached for months afterward. And when she looks at him now, she can't help but think that maybe this is a second chance for the both of them. Letting him go was a mistake she made once, but it won't be a mistake she makes again.
She glances up to see the customer in front of them is slipping a credit card back into her wallet; it's nearly their turn to check out. So, she slips an arm around Henry's shoulders, gently pushing him toward the cash register as she asks, "Are you hungry?"
He grins, "I am an almost-eight year old kid. I am always hungry."
She laughs, "Okay, then how about we go get something for lunch and discuss the plan for your birthday tomorrow." They reach the counter and Regina begins to unload the cart, but her eyes remain on Henry. "How does pizza sound?"
"Amazing," Henry replies. "Have you ever had New York style pizza?"
"I haven't."
"Neither have I."
"Well, then it'll be a first for both of us," Regina says, grinning softly as Henry pulls the hoodie from the thinning pile of clothes. "You really like that, don't you?"
Henry nods and she expects him to smile, but he doesn't. "My foster brother had one like it. But he had the Spiderman one and I thought it was so cool." He shrugs and continues to pet the sleeve, "But I wasn't allowed to wear it. Not even for a couple of minutes."
"Well," she begins, pushing away the feelings of anger and guilt she feels bubbling at her core and focusing on the little boy in front of her, a reminder that the past doesn't have to decide the future. "Now you have your very own."
They spend his eighth birthday at Coney Island, riding rides and eating funnel cakes and cotton candy—and the only thing that makes up for the chili-dog Henry insists she eats is his constant smile and laughter. When it seems they've exhausted the rides and games, she buys them lemonades and they go for a walk along the boardwalk, eventually settling on a little patch of beach where they wait to watch the fireworks.
"So, on a scale from one to ten," Regina begins with a smirk. "Where would you rank this birthday?"
"Fifty," he laughs. "Today's been so much fun!"
She laughs out and takes a sip of her lemonade as she looks back at the park, "And, if you had to choose which ride was your favorite today?"
"The cyclone," he says immediately.
"Funny, that was my least favorite."
He grins as he chews on the straw, "You might have enjoyed it more if you'd stopped screaming and opened your eyes."
Her eyes widen and she laughs out, "You spend three days with me and you're already picking up my sass."
He shrugs his shoulder and sips his lemonade, "Well, it's not untrue…"
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," she tells him as a grin stretches over her lips. "The carousel was more my speed and I liked the horses."
He laughs but before he can say anything her cell phone rings, and she watches as he holds his breath. She glances quickly down at the caller ID and shakes her head—it's not the phone call they've been waiting for, but it is her office and she has to take the call. She gets up and walks a few yards away, keeping an eye on Henry as her secretary inquires about her whereabouts and wonders why some man keeps calling and asking questions about her and about Storybrooke.
She bristles and quickly explains the situation—how she found Henry and felt an immediate connection, how he's been staying with her at the hotel in New York and how the day before they'd met with his social worker. She leaves out the way she had to hold onto Henry's hand to keep him from shaking, fearing he'd be taken back to his foster family or back into protective services to try his luck with another unknown family. She leaves out the way she'd reprimanded the social worker for allowing a seven year old to be in a situation that made homelessness look inviting; and she leaves out the way she'd made thinly veiled threats when the social was reveled there just hadn't been enough evidence to remove him from the foster home and place him somewhere safe. She doesn't tell her how she'd held her breath when the social worker then asked to speak to Henry privately or how her stomach contorted into knots and she could barely breathe, and she doesn't tell her about the the sense of relief that washed over her when the social worker released Henry into her care—a tentative agreement contingent on her background check clearing—was overwhelming in more ways than one.
Her mind reeled, wondering what a background check would actually uncover. Though the greatest sins of her past were untraceable in this world, there was still the cursed town that didn't actually exist to all the cold, boarderlining on cruel quips she'd made to the residents of Storybrooke—her secretary included—over the years that could deem her an unacceptable choice to care for Henry.
But her secretary gasps with excitement over the potential news of Henry coming back to Storybrooke with her, adding an emphatic that's so great and how she just knows it's going to all work out with Henry's social worker and she cannot wait to meet him.
"So, that means…you said good things about…me?"
"Of course I did," the secretary confirms.
Regina exhales again and glances back at Henry, smiling gently as she watches him chew his straw as he stares out at the setting sun, and she makes a mental note to make up for all the Secretary's Days she missed over the years. She thanks her and tells her she'll keep her posted on new developments with Henry before flipping her phone shut, and rejoining Henry on the blanket.
"I think my background check checked out," she tells him. "So, we're one step closer."
A smile spreads across Henry's lips and his hazel eyes flash with excitement, "That's good."
"It is," she says with a nod as a cool breeze blows in from the water. "And, I've got something for you…"
"You do?"
"It's not much, but…" She trails off as she pulls a slender box from the bag and holds it in her hands. "I was hoping we'd have some news by this point, but it's not looking like that's going to be today." Still, she smiles as she hands the box to him. "Happy birthday, Henry."
Slowly, he reaches out and takes the box, letting his fingers slide over the glossy paper and tangle in the ribbon. "You didn't have to…"
"Henry," she interjects quickly. "It's your birthday."
"I know, but you've already gotten me so much stuff."
"Well, this isn't…much," she tells him, watching as he tears a corner of the paper. "But I wanted you to have something to open that was a surprise…"
He grins and tears the rest of the paper away and lifts the box top. She hears his breath catch in his throat. "When did you have time to get these?" He asks, glancing up quickly as he thumbs through a stack of brand new comic books, examining each title quickly. "How did you even know these are ones I like!?"
"I have my ways," she tells him, grinning at the excitement in his voice and watching as he picks up one of the comics and examines the cover, holding it carefully in his hands. "There's something else in there, underneath the last comic…."
Henry looks up then lifts the stack of comics and carefully sets them down beside on the blanket before reaching for the envelope that remains in the box. His brow furrows as his fingers slip under the seal. He grins at the card—The Avengers all looking tough on the cover and when it opens it, they all shout Happy Birthday. She watches as he reads her note and picks up the post-card that sits inside, examining it closely before looking up at her.
"Is this a subscription?"
"Yeah," she nods, "You just have to fill in which ones you want and we'll drop it into the mailbox on the way back to the hotel." She watches as a smile slowly tugs at the corners of his mouth as he flips the card over and looks at his choices. "You can pick whatever ones you like…" She tells him as her own smile forms. "Storybrooke isn't exactly…an exciting place, and I honestly can't tell you if there's a comic book store or somewhere that sells them, even though I'm the mayor and know more about that town than anyone, and…I…want you to be happy there."
He looks up at her and smiles again—so sweet and sincere—and he bats his eyelashes and then looks away, something she's come to realize he does when he's feeling grateful, but doesn't quite know the words to express it. And each time, it makes her heart flutter.
"I've…never had a birthday like this."
"Well, we'll have quite a few more to celebrate together over the years, if I have anything to say about it," she tells him as she glances up at the quickly darkening sky. "I also have seven birthdays to make up for…"
"No," he's quick to say. "I didn't say that to…"
"Henry," she cuts in. "Don't apologize. Things have been rough for you and I want to make up for some of that. I know I can't change the last seven years, but…"
"But you already have," he says simply. "You're trying to give me a fresh start. That's all I've ever wanted. Just to…start all over."
"Yeah, I…know that feeling better than anyone," she says quietly, as a lump rises in the back of her throat and she again feels a wave of guilt, wondering if he'd hate her if he knew that that fresh start could have happened seven years before. Swallowing hard, she reaches for her tote bag, this time pulling out the Hulk hoodie they purchased the day before and hands it to Henry."It's getting a little chilly," she tells him, as he takes the sweatshirt and smiles.
Her guilt fades away and she can't help but laugh out as Henry puts on the sweatshirt and zips it up all the way and The Incredible Hulk's face replaces his—and all she can think of how easy it's been to fall in love with this child.
They get the phone call from Henry's social worker saying that Regina can take Henry back to Storybrooke later that night, and they celebrate with ice cream and a movie at the hotel. He chooses Chunky Monkey—something else that Regina's never encountered—and selects Robin Hood as the movie—and she confesses that the stories of Robin Hood are some of her favorites. Henry's smile is immediate and he seems glad that they share a common interest—and for the first time in her life, she feels like she's doing something right and the universe may finally be working in her favor.
Though she flew into New York, the date on her return ticket has come and gone, and she decides they'll rent a car and drive back to Maine. Not only is she leaving with considerably more bags than she arrived with, the idea of a road trip excites Henry and she hopes it'll give them the opportunity to get to know each other a little better and create some memories before real life takes over.
On the drive back to Maine they roll down the windows and listen to 80s music, and Henry sings along. He giggles as Regina searches each and every motel room they stop at for bugs and other unpleasant things before she'll allow him to set foot inside the room and he creates a list of all the fast food she has to try on their drive back, diligently crossing things off the list with every stop. Regina pays close attention to the road signs, pulling off the expressway whenever there's a sign for a historical landmark or museum or some quirky little attraction. And when there are no stops for a long stretch, they play a game of "Would You Rather." She learns that he likes dinosaurs and trains, prefers taffy to chocolate–except when it comes to donuts–and has always wanted to learn to sword fight. He thinks magic tricks are exciting and he likes to read, and when he tells her Snow White is his least favorite cartoon, she feels a sense of pride that is completely unfounded and ridiculous. By the time they reach Portland, she's filled four disposable cameras and buys another at the rental car kiosk at the airport, and then they're on their way to Storybrooke.
"You weren't kidding when you said it was in the middle of nowhere," Henry murmurs as she drives over the town line. "Is the town in the middle of the forest?"
"Kind of…it is surrounded." She takes a breath and pushes away the nagging feeling that perhaps they should have stayed in New York. Starting a new life there would have been easy enough, yet here they are; and if she's learned anything about Henry over the course of the past week, it's that he's an observant and thoughtful kid…and it's only a matter of time before he realizes that something in Storybrooke is amiss. "It's an old mining town," she adds in an attempt to give the fantastical town some sort of authenticity.
"Cool…"
She takes another breath. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes," he says as he turns away from the window. "I'm starving."
"That continental breakfast didn't do it for you, huh?"
"It was okay," he says easily. "But I'm a growing boy—I eat a lot."
"I've noticed," she says with a short laugh as her lip catches between her teeth and she considers the few options available to them. Usually, she prefers to eat at home—cooking has always been cathartic and it's something she's good at and grown accustomed to, but it won't solve the immediate problem of a hungry child until at least dinner time. "Well, there's always Granny's…"
"Granny's?"
"It's a diner that…everyone eats at," she replies. "It's one of the few restaurants in Storybrooke."
"I like diners," he muses easily, again turning his attention to the trees. "Is it far?"
"No," she says, smiling softly as she looks over at him, watching the scenery pass with a sort of wonder and innocence in his eyes, as if he's looking at something truly exciting rather than just row after row of trees and foilage. "We're almost there."
With the next turn she's driving down Main Street and a few minutes later, she's pulling into a spot in front of Granny's. Henry's eager to get out of the car and she feels her stomach flop as he looks curiously down the street. Slowly, she circles around the car and guides his shoulders toward the diner, once more taking a deep breath.
She reaches for the door, but opens and a man steps out and holds it open for them. She smiles curtly and nods, but keeps her eyes fixed on Henry. He selects a booth and she slides in on the opposite side, glancing quickly around the diner—Storybrooke doesn't get new residents and no one visits, so the sight of the town's mayor with a child no one's ever seen before is cause for some lingering gazes.
But Henry doesn't seem to notice, instead, he grabs a menu from where they sit on the table. "I think that man liked you."
"What?" She asks, completely taken aback by Henry's words. "What man?"
"The one who held the door," Henry says easily. "He smiled at you."
"He was being…polite," Regina says dismissively. "And I am the mayor."
"It wasn't that kind of smile," Henry says, arching an eyebrow as he smirks at her.
Her eyes widen, "And how would you know?"
He shrugs and looks back to the menu. "I've spent a lot of time watching people."
Slowly, she turns her head, looking back down the street and watching as the man who held the door lifts a little boy onto his shoulders; and, she finds a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "He smelled like forest," she says dismissively as she reaches for her own menu.
"Is that a bad thing?"
She blinks. "No…"
Henry giggles softly and flips the menu over, then looks up at her with wide eyes. "This menu says they have the world's best lasagna. Is that true?"
"No," she's quick to say, this time her tone a bit more emphatic. "I make the best lasagna, but Granny does make a pretty good burger and the milkshakes here are probably the best I've ever had."
She pauses, holding her breath as Ruby approaches the table.
"Hey, who's this?" Ruby asks, smiling almost sweetly as she looks between Henry and Regina.
"This is Henry," Regina says in a tentative voice. "Storybrooke's newest resident."
"Oh, well, welcome to Stroybrooke, Henry," Ruby says. "It's dull but, the milkshakes here almost make up for that."Henry laughs and orders a burger and vanilla milkshake, and Regina orders the same. Ruby's eyebrows arch and her head tilts, "Really, Mayor? A burger?"
"Living dangerously today," she replies as she takes in a short breath, knowing the waitress has no idea how true that statement is. "But, I suppose everyone needs a little change every now and then."
"You're telling me," Ruby scoffs before grinning back at Henry. "It was good to meet you, Henry. It's nice to have a new face around here."
Henry smiles back and returns the sentiment—and Regina finds herself thinking of how true it is. It is nice to have him here and when he smiles at her, she can't help but think that everything will work out for them. That they'll be happy here—that they'll both finally be happy.