It's both better and worse than either of them remember.
Space is a bigger issue. Neal and Emma hadn't terribly minded being squashed together before, but adding in an infant and it's just too much. When Henry cries, suddenly the whole car seems to collapse on itself. And there's no way around it- changing diapers in the backseat of a car is disgusting. While the reusable diapers one of the nurses at the hospital had tried to sell Emma on would be great for saving money, the idea of carrying them around until they could be washed was unbearable. She's managed to grow used to the itch of unwashed hair again, but she has her limits.
They have to be extra careful not to get busted by the cops too. Even though they're trying their best to stick to their promise of the straight and narrow, even vagrancy raps can stick. They're both completely aware of how much trouble Neal would be in even if they never connected him to the theft in Portland. The idea of Henry ending up in the system if something happened to the two of them paralyzes Emma with fear.
Neal can't take many of the jobs he used to, since they've lost their contact number. Early mornings, they leave him at the local hardware store with the other men out front, and see what he can get for the day. He's got a charming smile, but some of the other men look at him suspiciously. Most of the money he makes go to gas and diapers. There's fewer bills now, but more at stake.
Emma tries not to stray too far from where they've parked. If the car got stolen again, they would be well and truly fucked. Thankfully, the chipped paint, torn interior, and backseat crammed with junk appear to be a pretty good theft deterrent.
Emma's slipping back into her old attitude too. It starts one day when she's at the laundromat and she feels a tall man with a long beard get just a little too close behind her.
She squares her shoulders, hisses under her breath. Pulls her face into it's best stone cold don't-fuck-with-me expression. She casually slips the folding knife out of her shoe and plays with it a little.
She can still bite.
There are the good things too.
They have a good grasp of the town . Emma knows that the public pools has unmonitored showers. Neal knows where to park at night without being towed or cited.
Emma has her WIC checks now too, so they always get some actual good food- fruit, milk, peanut butter. She had begged Susan to let her have them sent to her box at the complex, and she would stop by to pick them up once a month. Once Henry turns one though, they're portions will be cut- only enough to cover him, not the two of them and whatever she could convince Neal to take.
She wants to yell at him again, remind him of what the last time he pulled the martyr act. But Neal has a point- Henry's still primarily breastfeeding, and if she doesn't eat, he won't either. So most of the time, Emma shuts her mouth and takes the last banana before it goes bad. Neal found an old cooler in a dumpster after a few days. It still smells vaguely of fish, but it fits in the backseat, and the seal keeps the bugs out and keeps things fresh a little longer.
And it's true she does get to spend plenty of time with Henry now. Most days she spends at the library, pouring over the want ads and the apartment listings in the newspaper. She tries to take Henry down to the playground for at least a little while each day. If it's not too hot, he'll nap happily in the shade, and Emma will watch the other moms and kids around her, and wonder if she looks anything like them, or if she just looks like the child playing pretend that she feels like.
Spring passes, almost without incident.
The incident that does, involves Emma repeatedly spotting a stocky, dark haired man hanging around.
Emma flies into survival mode when she sees him, even early on when the likelihood of another explanation was certainly possible.
The fourth or fifth time she catches him by the car, it's in the evening by the pool. Neal's taken Henry inside to change him and see if he can catch a shower himself, so Emma's alone.
He's just leaning on the passenger side door, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Emma grasps the handle of the knife in her pocket firmly, and stalks towards him with as much intimidation on her face as she can muster.
"Okay, who the fuck are you, and what's your business here?"
He gives her a smile that she guesses he thinks is charming, but just reads as slimy. She's seen them too many times.
"Hoping to chat with your boy when he gets out for a minute".
Emma fumes.
"You're not a friend, I've never seen you before. Neither of us have family. Neither of us owes anyone any money. Unless you're going to offer him a job, you have no business talking to Neal, so kindly fuck off."
She looks him up and down.
He gives her another smile. "Maybe it's a bad time", and he walks away without another word.
Emma wants to chase after him, but it won't do any good.
Neal's coming out behind her holding a freshly washed Henry wrapped in a towel, and Emma just blurts it out.
She points at the retreating figure. "Do you know him?"
Neal hesitates a bit before saying "No".
Emma stares. He only looks a touch guilty. There's something inside her that is screaming "BULLSHIT".
"You sure? Because I've seen him around a lot lately."
She takes Henry from him and straps him into his car seat.
"Neal, I know we've both done stuff we're not proud of. Both of us have pasts. If something in yours is coming back, I think I have a right to know."
Emma takes a deep breath before pulling out the big guns.
She continues quietly. "When Henry was born, you said you would marry me. That's as good as a piece of paper to me. If something could put us in danger, you don't get to just keep it to yourself anymore. It threatens all three of us".
Neal sighs. Then, with eyes so solemn that he appears older than he ever has, says "Get in and shut the doors".
Henry has already lulled himself off into a post bath sleep when Emma locks the driver side door, and says, "OK, spill".
Neal's slumped low in his seat. It's as though all the life has left him. These previous weeks, all that they've been through together, Neal has always had a spark to him. Now it's gone dim. Whatever it is that he's about to tell her has been eating away at him.
"I grew up far from here. Little town, in the middle of a forest. I don't remember ever leaving it until I got older. My dad had a bad reputation, he'd injured himself to get out of military service, and everyone thought he was trash for it."
He's got his head laid back against the head rest, he's not even looking at Emma at all.
"My mom left when I was little. I barely remember the time before she left, just that she was always unhappy. She finally couldn't take being with my dad anymore".
Emma winces. She had always known Neal had as many hangups as she did about child abandonment, now she knows why.
"Growing up, everyone treated my dad terribly, but he always loved me and made sure I was taken care of. But when I was fourteen, he took a job that gave him incredible power over the people in our village. And he used it, and abused it. Everyone was terrified of him, and no one would even get close to me for fear of his wrath."
Emma's lost in the story. There's something about it that feels so bizarre and she can't put her finger on it, but when she looks at Neal, she knows he's not lying.
"I hated it. Being feared was as bad as being hated. I tried to tell him that we should leave, find somewhere else to live where no one knew us, start over."
His face is pained. More pained even than he had looked when Emma was in labor.
"But he wouldn't, so I left on my own. Never looked back, tried to forget everything about where I came from and who I was. I was taken in by another family for a while, but then that went south, and I was out on my own again. I got picked up by the cops, gave them a fake name, and you pretty much know the story from there."
Emma's slowly processing what he's been saying. "And where does that weird guy come in?"
"Back in Portland, after you grabbed the watches, he knocked me over in an alley. I thought he was full of shit at first, but he knew who I was. He knew my father, where I came from, even my real name".
Emma can't help herself.
"What is your real name".
"Baelfire"
Can't help herself. She snorts out loud.
Neal rolls his eyes, "I know, I know. But he knew, and I don't really know how, but anyone connected with my father is bad news."
He pauses, looks like he's trying to figure out how to phrase the next part.
"But it wasn't just that. This guy- he told me his name was August, which means nothing to me- he knew about you too".
Emma's blood chills in her veins. "What?"
"He knew your name, he knew how you grew up, he even knew you were found by the side of the road...and there's something else."
"What else could there be?"
"I told you, I'm not from here, but there's way more gap between what you're probably thinking of as "not here" and what it actually is".
He takes a deep breath. "There's magic where I'm from".
Emma starts laughing uncontrollably. "You can't be serious'.
"Emma, look at me. Has anything I've said felt like a lie?"
She makes herself calm down. "No, know it doesn't. But just because you believe something doesn't make it true."
"I know what I know Emma. And the bulk of what August was saying about magic, it wasn't about me, it was about you".
"What, did he say I was some kind of magic chosen child?"
"...yes actually".
"Seriously?"
"He told me I should leave you, that me staying would just stop you from fulfilling your destiny".
Emma gets serious again. "He what?"
"I told him to fuck off. I've had enough of leaving and being left in my life".
"You can't seriously believe him."
"What does it matter Emma? Magic never did anything to help me when I lived where it existed. I doubt it will do anything for us here. We're surviving, we have each other. Our lives are wrapped up inside of this car, what does some curse mean to us now? Maybe in nine years we'll road trip to the little town in Maine you're supposed to save when you turn twenty eight. Maybe everything will be okay then. But for now, lets just try to keep this asshole off our back".
"Ugh, Maine, why? I don't want to go back there! And why twenty eight, why not sixteen or eighteen or any of the other significant ages?" She's trying to keep her voice light. Trying not to reveal the swirl of emotions in her gut. Because what Neal's saying is crazy. It has to be.
"Guess we'll just have to find out".
Emma doesn't say anything else. Neither does Neal. Life goes on as it was. Summer comes, along with it the terrible, oppressive heat, the bugs, and the crowds. They park at night with the windows rolled down, and Emma spends most of her days trying to hide from the terror of the sun. Henry gets his first sunburn and it miserable for a whole week.
The first official weekend of summer brings with it a minor miracle though.
It's a comparatively nice day, so they take out Henry's stroller. Emma spent a few precious quarters washing all their clothes yesterday, and they've all managed to bathe within the same day. They look presentable enough that when they're walking down the street, everyone ignores the trash bag Emma has strapped to the stroller for bottles and cans people have thrown away.
There's not really much to look at, but they're trying to figure out how much they've got left for the month.
"My WIC balance is down to $5.85".
"I still have $10 from helping build that shed Wednesday".
"Do we need soap or shampoo?"
"Soap's running low, but there's enough shampoo to use for both. Do you need tampons?"
Emma hates that she still flushes. "Not for another two weeks. Diapers should probably hold out for another week, but we have to be careful. What fruit's on sale this week".
"Oranges again."
Emma winces. Oranges give Henry diarrhea.
"We still have a lot of cereal though. That ten boxes for $10 sale was great, even if it's kind of messy to eat in the car".
"So see how many more cans of cooked beans and pineapple I can get, and save the rest for gas?"
"That should work".
"I never thought I would miss your rice and beans so much".
"I never thought I would miss cooking".
They're paused outside a tattoo parlor. Not one like one's Emma had seen either- there was a collage out front of the guy's work, and no neon signs in sight.
The artist- a tall, pale man in his 30's with small golden glasses and a goatee- comes out and tacks up another drawing- a flaming pirate ship.
Neal asks "Hey how did you learn to do that?"
The guy (who doesn't really look like he's paying much attention) says "This is what four and a half years at art school gets you".
"Do you have to go to school to learn to do tattoos?"
"No, just pass all the health code and city bureaucracy, it's better off not going to school all they do is try to put you into their little boxes..."
Neal interrupts him, "I've always liked to draw, you looking for any help around the shop? Cleaning or something, and you could teach me a thing or two?"
The man stands up straighter, lost in thought.
"Well...I have had a few complaints about the state of the shop, as if organization is any sign of artistic genius...but having an employee sounds like an awful lot of paperwork..."
Neal interrupts quickly, "I can take cash for payment, then you won't have to do any paperwork at all! Call me an unpaid apprentice or something".
The man pauses for a moment, then nods.
"Come by Monday around noon and we'll see what can be done with you".
He goes back inside so quickly that it seems almost like he was never there.
Emma lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "What the hell just happened?"
Neal turns to her, smiling, some of his old spark back in his face.
"Where I come from...we call a kind of magic"
Emma rolls her eyes. He's going to use this to needle her, she can tell.
"I call it luck"
"Luck or whatever it is, I'll take it."
"That guy didn't even ask to see any of your work!"
"But I do have some I can show him! That notepad in the trunk, it's full of stuff I've drawn!"
He reaches down and scoops Henry out of his stroller.
"Don't quote me on this, either of you, but maybe, just maybe, things are looking up".