Chapter 4: The Search for Truth
Regina stood on Main Street, not far from her house, and stared at the door. She wrapped her arms around her, hugging herself, as she worked up the courage to open it. Dr. Hopper's name stared back at her, daring her to finally make a move. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and opened the door, stepping inside.
She climbed the stairs to Dr. Hopper's office, finding a few chairs lining a wall with pictures of old Storybrooke on it. It was his entire waiting room and he didn't even have a receptionist. Regina guessed she should just knock on the door and see what he would tell her to do.
Dr. Hopper opened the door and smiled at Regina. He was a few years older than her with bright red hair and crystal blue eyes behind silver glasses. She swore he had always worn nice slacks (this time they were brown) and a white button-down shirt under a (brown and green plaid) sweater vest. There was something calming about him and she believed he had been born to be psychiatrist.
"Regina," he greeted, stepping aside so she could pass through the door. "Right on time. Come on in."
She passed him as she stepped into the room, pulling her gray sweater wrap tighter around her body. As September began to wane and October approached, the weather was getting cooler. It didn't yet require a jacket or anything warmer than the light blue t-shirt she wore as the wrap did a good job keeping her warm in the crisp air. She also planned to use it as a security blanket, especially in a such an unfamiliar setting for her.
He closed the door before motioning to the red couch behind her. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
"Do I...Do I need to lie down?" she asked, glancing at the couch as she recalled movies and TV shows that featured therapy sessions.
"If you want," he said, taking a seat in a nearby leather chair. There was no judgment or teasing in his tone. "It's not required though. You can just sit. Whatever will make you comfortable."
She nodded, perching on the edge of the couch. Regina rested her hands on her knees, her stomach twisted up in knots. "Now what?"
"Why don't you tell me what brought you to my office?" he suggested, pulling out a pad and pen.
Regina resisted the urge to let out a wry laugh. He had no clue how much of a loaded question that was for her. She had decided after making the appointment not to tell him anything about the storybook, Diana and her theory that Regina was her real mother. The last thing she needed was for him to hospitalize her, locking her up for being crazy. It was best to focus on what Dr. Whale had told her and to find a rational explanation for it.
She played with her sleeves as she repeated the explanation she had practiced, trying to keep it as brief as possible. "I, uh, went for a gynecological exam recently and Dr. Whale discovered something disconcerting. He said that my body showed signs of having given birth but as far as I know, I've never had sex. So how could I have given birth?"
"I see," Dr. Hopper replied, frowning as he tapped his pen against the pad. "While Dr. Whale is an excellent medical professional, he does have a tendency to...well…"
"Be an asshole?" she supplied, raising her eyebrow.
Though he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, Dr. Hopper nodded. "Yes. Are you sure he wasn't just joking with you?"
She nodded, recalling how Dr. Whale looked when he told her. "He was very serious and didn't make any jokes at all. I am confident that he told me the truth but you can check with him yourself."
"If you believe he was serious, then I believe you," Dr. Hopper told her.
"Thank you," she replied, feeling relieved that he wasn't calling her crazy right away. "So do you think you can help me figure out why I forgot about giving birth? Can you recover the memories?"
He pressed his lips together and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. After a few moments, he said: "The brain is a mysterious thing, Regina, as is the subconscious. We can work to see if we can unlock the memories, but I can't make any promises."
She had tried not to get her hopes up but she still felt disappointed that there would be no guarantee. Regina, though, held her head high as she nodded. "I understand. I still want to try."
"Okay," he said, uncapping his pen. "Now, have you talked with any family or friends about this?"
"I don't have any," Regina replied.
He paused, frowning. "What?"
She grew confused. He had to know her story-everyone in Storybrooke did after all. "I'm an orphan, Archie. I mean, Dr. Hopper. My mother signed her rights away and gave me to the sisters. No one adopted me so they raised me, turning me out when I graduated high school. I've been on my own since then. You have to know that. Everyone does."
"I knew you were an orphan," he confirmed, "but I thought you would've created your own family. You really have no friends?"
"None," she said, growing uncomfortable. She came here to find out about her lost memories, not to be reminded about how she was a loser no one liked. "I'm Cora Mills' daughter. That pretty much keeps people away."
He frowned. "No one has ever befriended you?"
"One person did," she replied, fighting the tears in her eyes. She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about him. Can we focus on why I'm here? To figure out what happened to my baby?"
"I know it may not seem like it but that's what we are doing. I was hoping there was someone who you may have confided in," he told her, holding out a tissue box.
She took the box and dabbed her eyes with the tissue. "If there was, I probably wouldn't be here. And that's the part that confounds me. Because I'm so despised in this town, it's like I'm more visible than the mayor. Everyone notices what I do. I doubt I would've been able to hide a pregnancy or giving birth that well. Someone would've had to notice that Cora Mills' fuck up fucked up herself. They would keep telling me how the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
"Do you think you left Storybrooke?" he asked. "Had the baby in another town?"
She shrugged. "I've never left Storybrooke but if I've forgotten about having a baby, who knows what else I've forgotten?"
"Well, we're going to work to uncover that," Dr. Hopper said. He stood, walking over to a filing cabinet. She watched as he opened a drawer and pulled out a marble notebook, much like the ones she used in school.
He handed it to her. "I want you to take this."
"Are you giving me homework?" she asked, both in jest and in surprise.
"I am," he confirmed, sitting back down. "I know you came here to recover lost memories, but there are a few other things I want to work on with you as well."
She frowned as her stomach clenched and she clutched the notebook to her chest. "Like what?"
"Like how you view the world and yourself," he said. "You seem to believe that you are a fuck up, pardon my language, that no one likes you and that you're not meant to have love or family."
"No offense, Dr. Hopper, but I don't just believe it. I know it. Everyone in this town knows it. I'm Cora Mills' daughter. I'm not worth anyone's time, attention or love. And I've made peace with it," she said, though she knew that last part was only partially true. She hadn't made complete peace with the fact she would always be alone but she was getting there with each passing year she spent with only herself for company.
His frown deepened. "Everyone deserves to be loved, especially by themselves."
"I love myself," she lied.
Dr. Hopper saw right through it judging by the way he tilted his head and studied her. He didn't call her on it, though. Instead, he asked: "Who is Regina Mills?"
"I'm Cora Mills' mistake," she said. "I'm a disappointment."
"Stop," he replied, holding up his hand.
She frowned. "What? You asked me who I am and I'm telling you."
"There has to be more to you than just being Cora Mills' daughter," he told her.
"Why? That's all that matters. Everyone just cares that I'm Cora Mills' daughter. Most probably don't even know my name is Regina," she said bitterly.
He nodded. "Well, let's change that. I want to help you not only discover more about this mysterious pregnancy but to also find out who Regina Mills is. Which brings us back to the notebook."
She glanced down at it, trying not to scowl as she believed she knew what he wanted her to do. "You want me to keep a diary? Detail every little thing that's ever happened to me?"
"Not really. That's not going to help since you forgot about being pregnant," Dr. Hopper replied, "but I do want you to consider it a diary. I'm going to use this to help you retrain your brain so you look at the world differently—not so negatively."
"How is this going to do that?" she asked, holding up the notebook with a doubtful expression on her face.
He smiled. "When you wake up, I want you to write down two goals for the day. They can be small things but they must be positive-like smiling more or talking to a coworker. And then I want you to write down three good things in your life. It's probably going to be difficult when you start since you've been convinced there are no good things in your life but it'll get easier. Especially as your last task is to write down three good things that happened to you that day. Can you do that?"
She wanted to tell him no, that nothing good would ever happen to her, that she doesn't need to readjust how she viewed the world. The world had showed her how it really operated and reminded her of her place in the scheme of things constantly. Nothing Dr. Hopper had her do would change that. He should just stick to helping her recover her memories.
Regina wanted to say all of that. Instead, she said: "I can do that."
"Good," he said. "I want you to bring it with you to every session, so if you want to take notes about things you want to talk about in it as well, I recommend that."
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, clutching the notebook to her chest.
Dr. Hopper nodded, glancing at a clock by his chair. "I'm afraid our time is almost up. So, let me close with this-I know you were probably expecting me to focus on just recovering your forgotten memories but I am concerned about other aspects of your mental health. And while I know you understand that we most likely will recover something traumatic, I want to make sure you have all the tools you need to process it. That includes making sure you have a healthy sense of self. Understand?"
"I do," she said softly. She knew she was ready to learn whatever had happened to her, wanted to know the truth and realized she was going to need some tools to help her deal with whatever she discovered. Dr. Hopper was helping her in ways she hadn't thought of and she was grateful for his expertise.
He stood, setting his pad and pen down. "We'll continue this next time. Same time, next week?"
She nodded, standing as well. He led her back into the little waiting room and after they settled her insurance information and payment, he wished her a good day. Regina thanked him and headed back outside, still clutching the notebook as if it was a shield to protect her from the world. She still wasn't sure this journal thing was going to work but she would try it. At least it gave her an idea for her own research and she headed up to the stationery store on Main Street to make a few purchases.
Regina stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She picked up a pillow from her bed, pressing it to her face as she screamed her frustrations into it. Whenever she thought her life couldn't get any worse, it seemed the universe took it as a dare and found a way to do just that.
"Regina?" Daddy entered from the door that connected their rooms. He approached with a frown. "Is something wrong?"
"Snow is what's wrong," she snapped, tossing the pillow back on her bed. "And Leopold's inability to deny her anything she asks for!"
Her father paused, tilting his head. "What is it now?"
"Snow said that we weren't spending enough time together, that my duties were getting in the way. Leopold has now amended my duties so that they include having to tutor his insufferable brat to be a lady!" she yelled, starting to pace the room.
"She is so selfish, never thinking of others but only of herself and her wants. What about my wants? What about my wish to stay far, far away from her?" she ranted to no one in particular.
Daddy approached her cautiously. "I know you're upset…"
"I'm angry, Daddy," she corrected.
"Right," he said. "But maybe you need to look at this another way."
She paused, scowling at him. "What do you mean by that? What other way is there to look at it?"
"Well, you say she's very self-absorbed and doesn't care for others' feelings or well-being," her father started.
"Of course she doesn't," Regina interjected. "Her father spoils her and makes it so she never has to. Everyone has to cave to her."
Daddy nodded. "I know. Nearly the entire palace knows. Even her mother knew before she died. From what I've heard, Queen Eva was trying to teach Snow how to be less selfish and to be a good queen."
Her stomach turned at the mention of her predecessor. Everyone whispered her name with such reverence, it was as if she were some goddess and Regina the demon unworthy of taking her place. She also hated how Leopold called her his late wife's name when he came to her bed, holding her down as he took his pleasure from her. The least he could do would be to use her name but he didn't even give Regina that. She never wanted to hear Eva's name again but she knew it would be a long time before that happened, if ever.
Anger making her blood boil, she hissed: "Do not mention her name. I will not have it spoken in these chambers. This is my safe space, away from the memory of her that haunts the rest of this palace."
"Of course," Daddy said, apologetic as he held up his hand in a placating manner. "I apologize."
She nodded, knowing he would respect her wishes. Regina resumed her pacing, still itching to get her anger out somehow. She wished her lessons with Rumpelstiltskin were going better because she would love to hurl a few fireballs and destroy something-anything-at the moment.
"But what I was suggesting is that you spend time with Snow and teach her to be less selfish. Teach her how to be more empathetic," Daddy continued.
Regina stopped, not believing she heard her father correctly. He wanted her to spend time with the person who stole everything from her? It wasn't just that Snow broke her promise not to tell anyone about Regina's plan to run away with Daniel. It wasn't just about how that cost Daniel his life and how it sentenced Regina to this prison, forced to smile and pretend she was happy to be married to a man old enough to be her father who still pined for his dead wife. In the end, it was about how Snow didn't have any remorse about any of it. She didn't want Regina to leave her, wanted her to stay and be her mother, and once again, the princess had gotten everything she wanted while Regina lost everything she had wanted.
She whirled on her father, snarling at him. "You want me to spend time with Snow? With the person who imprisoned me in here?"
"Your mother did that," Daddy reminded her. Not that she ever forgot that her mother had magically trapped her in the palace, making it so she couldn't leave without Leopold's permission.
"Mother used magic to keep me here but I was already trapped when Snow broke her promise, when she told a secret she wasn't supposed to and cast Daniel his life," she barked, her voice cracking. Tears pricked her eyes. "She isn't even sorry."
"Because you never told the truth. You told her Daniel ran away and didn't take you with him," he pointed out. "She doesn't know she has anything to be sorry about. Tell her."
She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. "She'll just get upset and tell her father. Then he'll get upset and…"
The words died in Regina's throat as she could never voice what Leopold did to her. Instead, she rolled up one of her sleeves and let the fading yellowing bruises there do the talking for her. She didn't know how much worse it could get and she didn't want to find out, which meant not giving Leopold a reason to be angry with her. And that meant not upsetting his precious daughter.
Daddy grimaced and rolled her sleeve back down. "Regina…"
"Don't," she told him, her voice thick as she felt tears starting to burn her eyes. She didn't need any more of his apologies, not when he could've stopped all of this. Mother was powerful, it was true, but their word was governed by men. Had he voiced opposition, she believed she would not be trapped in this hell.
Tears filled his own eyes. "I just wish you could find happiness, Regina. That's all I ever wanted for you."
"Well, I'll never find it now," she bit back, seeing no way out of her prison.
"Don't think like that," he said, sitting down next to her. He took her hand. "You can find happiness as long as you don't shut yourself off from the possibility. Don't shut off your heart. Start with Snow."
Her anger flared up again and she jumped up off the bed, betrayed that he would suggest that after their entire conversation. No one ever truly listened to her. "GET OUT!" she bellowed, pointing to the door.
"Regina," Daddy said placatingly, "please listen to me."
She shook her head, trying hard not to cry as she backed away from him. "I won't find my happiness by making nice with Snow. My happiness will only come when she has suffered as much as I have, when she truly understands the pain she has put me through."
"That isn't the way to find your happi…"
"STOP!" she yelled, covering her ears. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
The mirror between her and her father exploded, glass shards flying out and almost showering Daddy. Horror filled her at how seriously he could've been hurt-she hadn't meant to do that. She lowered her hands as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Daddy...I didn't mean…"
He backed away from her, fear in his eyes. "I'll do as you ask and give you some time. I'll check on you later."
Daddy fled into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him. She stood, shaking, as she stared at the glass shards covering her floor. What had she done? The power inside her intrigued her but more often frightened her. This was one of those times—her father was the last person she ever wanted to hurt, no matter how angry his suggestion had made her.
"Well, that was an impressive little show," a familiar high-pitched voice said from behind her. It sent a chill down her spine.
She closed her eyes, not much in the mood to deal with him. "Go away."
"Not yet. I want to have a chat," the voice said.
"I don't," she replied, opening her eyes to look at all the glass. "I need to clean this up before someone starts asking questions I don't want to answer."
Regina turned around to come face-to-face with the voice's owner, his golden skin sparkling in the candlelight. The Dark One smiled, raising one hand high as he rested the other against his elbow. "You can clean this with a snap of your fingers. Go ahead, give it a try."
"No," she said, glaring at him. "I told you-I have no interest in learning magic."
"Don't be so hasty," he said, following her. "Look at what you did without training. Now imagine what you can do with my help. You can even get revenge on Snow White."
She bristled as she stopped, glaring at him. "You were spying on me."
"I'm omnipotent," he told her cheekily. "And you wear your heart on your sleeve. Didn't your mother teach you better?"
Regina reached over and picked up her silver brush, throwing it at him. He disappeared in a cloud of mauve smoke, the brush landing with a dull thud amongst the broken shards of glass in the middle of the room.
"Nice try," he said from behind her, making her jump. She whirled around, finding him sitting on her vanity. "If you used your magic, you probably wouldn't have missed."
"Just leave me alone," she yelled. "Before I call for the guards."
He giggled. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you for now. But you will come to me to learn magic. Once you do, you will be a great sorceress and will be able to get everything you want."
"I want my true love back," she said, close to tears. "Can you give me that?"
The Dark One's smile fell and she thought she saw genuine remorse in his eyes. "Magic can't bring someone back from the dead."
She shook her head, ready to tell him to take his offer to someone else when he stepped closer. "But it can help you avenge his death. You can make Snow White miserable."
"Miserable?" she asked, intrigued. She smirked as she imagined Snow White's life being as horrible as hers. "You mean take away her happiness?"
"If that's what your little heart desires," he said, leaning closer. "Most of all, magic can give you the one thing you want most of all."
She frowned. "Snow White's unhappiness is what I want most of all."
"Oh, that's not true. I've heard you. You want something even more than that," he replied. He moved, standing behind her as he pressed his lips to her ear to whisper: "You want your freedom."
Regina gasped, her eyes widening as she turned to face him. He grinned. "You know where to find me when you want to take control of your own fate."
He disappeared in a cloud of mauve smoke, leaving Regina alone to consider his words. She had felt the pull of magic since banishing her mother to another realm and it had scared her. Mother had only ever used her magic to hurt Regina, so she had grown up fearing it. She had never thought about wielding it herself but now that Mother and Snow had put her in this position, it certainly was an enticing option.
She smirked as she waved her hand, concentrating on the glass shards. They shook before rising up into the hair. With another wave of her hand, they reformed into her mirror. It looked like it had never shattered.
With that, she made her decision.
Regina closed the storybook, her stomach twisted in knots. While she had felt for Rumple earlier in the book, she did not like his role in her doppelganger's story. Queen Regina needed to listen to her father and deal with her anger, not learn magic to exact revenge on Snow White. Though she figured she knew the ending, she prayed her lookalike made the right decision in the end.
She understood why Queen Regina felt so desperate, wanting to stop feeling so unhappy. The queen was fighting for her happiness, though in the wrong way. Regina had pretty much given up and was just resigned to her unhappiness. Maybe she needed to take a cue from her literary lookalike-she needed to fight for her happiness but do it right.
That thought draw her attention to the notebook Archie had given her. She had had it for only three days and had only written in it the first day. It had been a struggle to think of two positive goals she could attain for the day as well as three good things that happened to her in her day, let alone three good things she had in her life. So she had given up. Just like she always did.
Not anymore.
Regina took a deep breath and picked up the notebook. She opened it to the second page and placed the date in the righthand corner. It was too late for her to put in her two goals-the day was almost over-but she was able to do the other parts, starting with the three good things in her life.
My baking skills
My little cottage-my own sanctuary
The library
She smiled, amazed at how quickly she had written all three of those down. Now it was time to focus on the other part-the three good things that had happened to her that day.
No traffic on the way to work
They had pineapple pizza at the pizzeria
I decided to change my outlook on life thanks to the storybook
Regina leaned back, impressed with herself. Maybe things were starting to look up after all. She closed the book happily, setting it in her bag so she didn't forget it.
Straightening back up, she sighed as she stared at the desk. Regina had bought another notebook so she could start keep track of her progress in trying to find out what happened to her baby. There still wasn't much information besides that she had been pregnant and given birth. She had tried to look up birth records but there weren't many as Storybrooke was a small town. Each one had parents attached to them and there were no stories in the Daily Mirror about abandoned babies.
Regina bit her lip as she continued her next steps. Even though she couldn't remember giving birth, she still was sure she hadn't left Storybrooke to do so. Which meant someone somewhere had to know something about it. She just had to figure out who it was. Her first thought was Granny, whose diner was the center of town life. Every meal there came with a side of gossip. Regina was going to have to ask some difficult questions but it would the only way to get to the bottom of this. It was time for her to be brave.
She stood, gathering everything up and hiding the book in a desk drawer. While she was certain no one knew she had it and where she kept it, she still felt better making sure it wasn't out in the open. She didn't know why, but she felt it was important and she couldn't risk it falling into the wrong hands-whoever they were.
Turning out the light, Regina crept toward the door with her bag. It felt good having a plan and she already had an idea about what she was going to write in her journal the next day for one of the good things in her life.
Diana had spent the past couple weeks trying to figure out the best way to see Regina again. Between Mom's resolution for the two to spend time bonding together, school, ballet, Lacey babysitting her and her sessions with Archie, Diana's days were all booked up. There was very little chance for her to sneak away and find Regina, especially since the cannery was so far away from where she lived. By the time she knew Regina got home, Diana's mother was also home and keeping a watchful eye on her. Still, she refused to give up, knowing she would find a way.
It ended up falling into her lap by chance.
Sabrina Brunt, one of her classmates, had invited their classmates over to her house so they could all work on Halloween decorations-it was her family's favorite holiday. Every year, they created one of the best haunted houses in Storybrooke and all the kids loved to visit it. It would be even more fun to help set up so most of them agreed to go. Mom had dropped her off but told Diana that Lacey would be picking her up as she had some work to do.
However, Lacey called Sabrina's mother to tell her that she got stuck at her father's florist shop and wouldn't be able to pick Diana up. Mr. Brunt offered to drive her home but the Brunts did not live far from Town Hall. Diana said she would walk to her mother's office and get a ride home from her. The Brunts told her to walk quickly as the skies were darkening, threatening a good downpour if not a storm. Diana started toward Town Hall, convinced she could make it there before anything happened.
She was wrong.
Cold rain poured down on her, soaking her within minutes. She could barely see anything and she didn't think she could continue. Turning back didn't seem like a good idea either, forcing her to find someplace to wait out the storm.
Brushing some water from her eyes, she noticed the library on the opposite corner. It had a large awning over the front door that would keep some of the rain off her while she figured out how to get inside. She checked for cars but it seemed the rain kept everyone off the road, giving her the all clear to cross the street.
It was a relief to get under the awning, though it didn't block the wind. She shivered as it blew around her wet body and she felt her fingers grow stiff. It kept her from accurately picking the lock and she knew she would never get inside. She was probably going to freeze before anyone could find her and she slid down the library door, hugging herself to try to preserve her body heat.
"Diana?"
The girl looked up and her heart sped up when she saw Regina standing in front of her, a big black umbrella keeping most of the rain off her though her jeans were soaked. She clutched a plastic bag, so Diana guessed she had gone to the store for something when she got caught in the downpour.
Regina frowned as she stepped closer to her. "What are you doing out here in this storm?"
"I was walking from a friend's house to Town Hall when the rain began," she said, shaking. "I hoped to get into the library but my fingers are too frozen."
"I see," Regina said, looking around. Diana remembered that her mother had threatened the woman to stay away from her so Regina was probably concerned that Acting Sheriff Humbert or Deputy Nott were going to appear out of nowhere to arrest her for just talking to Diana.
She bit her lip before sighing. "I know your mother said I had to stay away from you but I can't leave you out here in the rain. Come on. I only live up the block. I think my umbrella should cover the two of us."
"Thank you." Diana took her outstretched hand and let Regina help her to her feet.
Regina frowned, moving the grocery bag to her wrist and resting her umbrella against her shoulder so she could take Diana's hands in both of her own. She rubbed them, sending pins and needles through Diana's hands as warmth started to return. "Your hands are ice cold," she said. "How long have you been out here?"
"Not long," Diana replied. "Only since the rain started really."
Determination filled Regina's eyes as she took hold of her umbrella again, positioning it over the two of them. "I don't care what your mother said. You're coming back to my house and warming up."
She held Diana's hand as she led her down the block to the small yellow house Diana had spent all summer trying to locate. They walked up the short walk and Regina pulled out her keys, letting them into the dark and slightly chilled house.
Regina closed the door and set her umbrella down to dry. She hurried over to her thermostat and pressed a few buttons. "It'll take a few minutes but the heat should kick on soon. Let me get you a towel to dry you off."
Diana stood shivering in the foyer as Regina hurried down a hallway. This was as far as she got the last time she was in Regina's house and she decided to explore a bit more this time. She wandered into the living room, taking in the black couch and well-worn armchair that faced the small TV against one wall. While there was a coffee table and a couple end tables, the room seemed bare. Diana frowned as she realized why that was-there were no personal knick-knacks or pictures anywhere.
A warm towel wrapped around her and Regina rubbed some of the excess water off her. She turned Diana around, smiling at her. "Feel better?"
"Yes," Diana replied as warmth started to flood back through her body. "Thank you."
She glanced back at the living room before asking: "You don't have any pictures in your house. Why?"
Regina's smile dimmed a bit and she shrugged. "I don't really have anyone in my life to take pictures of and have them framed."
"Oh," Diana replied. That sounded so sad and she started to realize the true extent of the curse. It didn't just separate their family-it made it so Regina was truly alone and miserable. She hated her Storybrooke mother for casting the curse even more now.
Before she could say anything, Regina motioned to the kitchen. "Do you want something while we wait out the rain?"
"What smells so good?" Diana asked, following her into the warmer room. She detected hints of vanilla and cinnamon in the air, making her stomach rumble and her mouth water.
Regina smiled, lifting a lid on a cake holder to reveal several perfectly frosted cinnamon buns. She took one out and placed it on a plate, handing it to Diana. "I've been baking all day. In fact, I ran out to get some more ingredients to make some more."
"You bake?" Diana asked, surprised. As Regina nodded, she took a bite of the cinnamon bun. The sweetness of the pastry and icing mixed with the cinnamon taste, making her mouth water as she chewed slowly. She was going to enjoy every bite of it. "This is delicious!"
"Thank you," Regina said, leaning against the counter as she set a napkin down next to Diana's plate. "It's been my dream to own a bakery but it doesn't seem that one will come true. I still love to bake, though, and I'm focusing on things that make me happy now."
Diana frowned. "Why can't you open a bakery?"
"A whole bunch of legal reasons that would bore you," she replied and even Diana could tell she was glossing over the truth. Which meant only one thing-her mother in Storybrooke was the reason that Regina didn't have her bakery.
It made her detest her "mother" even more.
She took another bite, chewing as she decided to change the subject. When she swallowed, she smiled at Regina. "Can I have something to drink, please?"
"Of course." Regina headed to her refrigerator, opening it before glancing at her. "Is milk okay?"
"Milk is fine," Diana replied, knowing nothing else would go well with the cinnamon bun she was still slowly eating.
Regina poured her a glass of milk and set it down in front of her. "Are you enjoying that cinnamon bun?"
Diana nodded. "You're an amazing baker."
"Thank you," she replied. "I like to bring treats in for my coworkers. No one ever says anything or thanks me but they eat it all, so I keep bringing them in."
Everything was awful for Regina. If someone made so many delicious treats, the least they were owed was a thank you and maybe a smile rather than a cold shoulder. Diana shook her head. "This curse is horrible."
Regina gave her a look. "We're not cursed, Diana."
Her tone made Diana's heart sink and she frowned. "Aren't you reading the book?"
"I am," Regina confirmed, "and I'm enjoying it. It still doesn't mean that it's real or that we're cursed."
Diana's heart sank as she set the glass of milk down, not caring if she had a milk mustache. She had bigger problems than that. "Nothing about it rings true to you?"
Regina shrugged. "The Regina in the book may have had a slightly better childhood than me but her life also didn't turn out the way she wanted, so I identify with her. But I'm not looking to avenge some great wrong, nor am I turning to evil. I am not evil."
"No, you're not," Diana said, trying to get her to believe. "And the Regina in the book doesn't stay evil. I told you that."
"I know. I'm still reading about how she becomes the Evil Queen so don't spoil anything for me," Regina said, winking at her.
Diana sighed as she finished her cinnamon bun. She pushed the plate away before her hand went to her hair. Feeling some curls starting to form, she groaned. "The rain made my hair frizz. Mom is going to flip out."
Regina frowned. "Why?"
"She hates my curls," Diana replied, scrunching up her nose. "She says they make look wild and so she straightens my hair every morning."
"That can't be healthy for your hair," Regina said, reaching out to wrap a curl around one of her fingers. "Besides, your curls are beautiful. I guess your mother just doesn't know how to properly care for them."
Diana's spirits lifted as she stared at Regina in awe. No one had ever called her curls beautiful before. Her parents had always acted as if they were some nuisance she had created just to make their lives more difficult. "You really think my curls are beautiful?"
"I do." Regina reached up and pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair. Her hair cascade around her shoulders, falling in curls that had frizzed from the rain as well.
It made Diana's eyes widen and she found them to be more proof that Regina was her mother. They both had the same hair-dark and curly-while both her Storybrooke parents had straight hair. It had to be a sign.
"Do you like your curls?" she asked Regina, awestruck.
Regina's smile dimmed and she pulled her hand back to run over her own curls. "For a long time, no, I didn't. Most of the sisters didn't like them either and I usually straighten my hair as well so I can get it under the hairnet I have to wear at the cannery. But one sister, Sister Astrid, did show me how to take care and style my curls. I can show you."
"I'd appreciate that," Diana said as she glanced out the window, "but maybe another time? It's getting late and the rain has let up. I should go before Mom starts looking for me and finds me here. We both know she wouldn't like that."
"True," Regina agreed, looking uncertain. "But I don't know when we can meet again. Your mother is probably watching both of us like hawks."
Diana nodded, knowing it was true. "But I think I can still convince her that I've joined some activity that requires me to be out of the house for a couple hours at least once a week."
Regina bit her lip. "I'm not fond of you lying to your mother."
"But we don't have any other choice," Diana pointed out. "And she's not my mother. You are."
"I'm not your mother," Regina repeated as Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I've told you. I remember when you were born."
Diana expected Regina to then repeat the fact that she never had been pregnant and it struck her as odd when she didn't, but she decided not to press her on it. She had to figure out some way to convince Regina to meet with her. "I know it's wrong to lie to my mom, even if I don't believe she's my mom, but she's not giving us any choice."
"That doesn't make it right," Regina pointed out.
"So you don't want to see me?" The thought broke Diana's heart. She hadn't expected the woman she knew in her heart was her mother to reject her. Regina had always been hesitant but was still welcoming to her. Diana had figured she would keep warming up to her, realizing the strong bond they shared and starting to believe her. Together, they would go find Diana's father and break the curse.
Now, though, it seemed she was going to have to forge ahead alone.
Regina came around the counter to hug her, holding her close. "It's not that I don't want to see you. You're a very interesting girl and I have enjoyed our encounters so far. And even if I'm not your mother, I still need to set a good example for you."
"But we'll never get my mom's permission to meet," Diana said, sniffing as she pressed her cheek against Regina's chest. She smelled like cinnamon from her cooking, but also vanilla and apples. It soothed her and felt like a distant memory, like something from a dream.
Regina smoothed down her hair as she gently rocked Diana. "Okay, okay. I'm still not a fan of you sneaking off and lying to your mom, but it seems we have no choice. Besides, I'm no saint. I have been technically breaking into the library."
That surprised Diana and her tears stopped as she stared up in awe at Regina. "You have?"
"Yeah," she replied sheepishly. "I get a lot of work done in there. If you go to the backdoor, I can let you in and we can meet there. How does that sound?"
Joy filled Diana and she smiled, almost bouncing up and down. "That sounds great! Thanks, Regina!"
"You're welcome," she said before stepping away. "Come on. You should get going. I'll see you real soon."
Regina escorted her to the door and gave her another hug. "Be safe, okay?"
"I will," Diana promised her. She gave her a big smile. "And I'll see you soon."
She left Regina's house, skipping down the front walk to the sidewalk. There was time for her to come up with a plausible explanation about where she had been that wouldn't get her and Regina in trouble. For a few blocks, though, she was going to savor the fact that Regina had agreed to spend more time with her. It would only be a matter of time before their family was reunited and all was right in their world yet again.
Diana just knew it.
A/N: Here's the next chapter! Diana and Regina are plotting to get together more often at the same time Regina's on the quest for answers about the baby she may have given birth to sometime in the past.
The exercise Dr. Hopper has Regina do is a real exercise to help change your thinking and become more positive. I've tried to do it a few times but I can never remember to give myself more time in the morning to do it. But I do suggest trying it if you can.
There will be a little glimpse at Robin in the next chapter, so keep your eyes open for that!
I just got back from vacation in Disney World—we went for Halloween. It was relaxing and fun and now the real work begins. Advent is almost upon us and I need to get my story ready to go for that!
Now a message to my American readers who are over the age of 18: Tomorrow is Election Day. If you're registered to vote, please go out and do so. This is a critical time for our country and we all get a chance to have a say in the direction we go at the polls. I won't tell you how to vote—that's up to you. Just make sure you're informed about the candidates and pick the one who matches your values and beliefs closely. Lines may be long so bring a lot of patience with you and maybe reread this chapter to keep you busy. Know your rights before you go as well. Together, we can make our country the place we want it to be.
-Mac