III. Getting started

…

Regina watched the crowd of kids streaming out of the building and immediately spotted her son with his satchel among some other boys and girls. Henry waved at her when he noticed her as well and ran off.

"Mom! Guess what happened!" he immediately gushed, barely dropping down next to her in the passenger seat of the Benz.

She smiled slightly. "I don't know, but somehow I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

The boy's grin grew wide. "We got the essay back and I got an A! You have to read it as soon as we get home-"

"Really? Well done, my little prince!" she replied proudly, waving her hand through his hair. This time he didn't even protest as usually. "I can't wait to see what you've written. We have to go shopping on the way home, though. What do you think about lasagna to celebrate?"

"Oh yeah!" His eyes began to light up at the thought of his favorite dish. "Miss Blanchard even wanted me to read my essay to the class."

Something tightened deep in Regina's guts at the mention of that name. Two years ago, when Henry had found out not only that he was adopted but that Mary Margaret Blanchard was practically his big sister, it had turned his childlike world upside down. He had been only two years old at the time of his foster father's death, so he had no memories of the time they had lived together as a family. Mary Margaret had immediately moved out when she turned eighteen. Regina had never shed a tear for her stepdaughter, nor for her late husband.

Henry ran ahead of her into the supermarket and had disappeared behind a shelf before she was even able to grab a shopping basket. As she went through her list, he excitedly brought the ingredients for lasagna.

"So, we have everything," Regina finally said, turning toward the checkout counter.

"Wait, Mom! I still need my crunchies, they're almost out." Quick as a flash, he scurried around the next corner, and the next moment something clanged deafeningly.

"Damn it, can't you be careful?" a woman's voice bawled.

Regina followed Henry into the next aisle and saw him standing, befuddled, in front of a store employee, as the logo on her shirt revealed. Colorful boxes that she had apparently been in the process of sorting onto the shelf were scattered around both of them.

"Henry! What's wrong?"

"Your son ran through the aisles like a madcap and knocked me over," the redhead scolded angrily. "This isn't a playground."

Regina stared at her in surprise. Apparently, Zelena had already found an employment. She gave Henry a piercing look. "You'll apologize."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he admitted contritely, bending down to hold out a coffee packet that lay right at his feet.

Zelena's expression softened. "That's okay, next time slow down."

The boy nodded, whereupon she turned away to continue her work. As she stretched out to reach the top shelf, a hissing sound escaped her and she placed one hand on her ribs.

"Are you all right?" Regina inquired, who was not at all unaware of this reaction.

In the next moment she regained her composure and straightened her shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Madam Mayor."

Skeptically, Regina pushed her son in the direction of the cash register. She realized that Zelena must probably be in more severe pain than she had shown at that moment, but a twelve-year-old child could hardly have thundered against her with such force.

"Honestly, I didn't knock her over at all." Henry justified himself as soon as they were out of earshot of the supermarket employee. "She just got really scared because I ran around the corner that fast, and all the stuff fell off her."

That caused her to frown. She knew her son wouldn't say that if it wasn't true. Not only was he a particularly thoughtful boy, but he was also very sincere, unless he felt he was deceiving himself. In her mind, she began to clear out the groceries at the checkout counter.

"Mom, are you listening?"

"What?" Irritated, she looked at Henry.

He sighed theatrically. "I was asking, if Emma could come to dinner today. She likes your lasagna as much as I do."

"Sure she can. I bet she'd love to read your essay too." She took her purse out of her handbag as the cashier told her the price to pay, while Henry was already starting to put their purchases into a shopping bag.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her on the way out.

"Oh, just about that woman from the shop. She just moved into town and she's living on Birch Hill now. You know, the old farm a few minutes past the stables."

Henry gave her a puzzled look. "That's way out there! Does she live there by herself? I'd be really creeped out at night."

"With her husband," Regina replied. Absently, she opened the trunk of the Benz to put the bag inside.

"Why don't we bake them an apple pie together as a welcome gift? They always do that in movies. I'm sure they're happy when someone's nice to them."

Puzzled, she looked at her son, but then smiled. "Henry, that's a very good idea! We'll get it done right away on Saturday, when I don't have to work and you don't have to go to school."

It was the perfect excuse to take an unannounced trip out to the farm herself, get an idea of how the two newcomers lived there, and maybe get to know them a little better.

...

At home, she put away the groceries and then read through Henry's essay while he watched her intently. Since his class was studying the novel Oliver Twist, the paper was about it. For his young age, her son could express himself very well; in fact, she was sure that he had a larger vocabulary than most of his classmates. No wonder, he had always loved to listen to stories and read them himself once he learned to. He liked fairy tales and heroic sagas best, but of course, like other kids his age, he also had a soft spot for comic books, especially Iron Man.

In her own school days, Regina had also read Oliver Twist, but she remembered the contents of the novel only dimly. Still clearly in her mind, however, were the stories her father had told her when she had been a little girl. He had told her the classic fairy tales of Snow White, Rumpelstiltskin, or Little Red Riding Hood, but not as they were known. In his stories, the evil Queen had been a smart, beautiful, but also incredibly lonely woman who had to deal with great pain and fear in her young life. She had developed a great fascination for this tragic figure. And then her mother had simply taken away the wonderful book with the texts and pictures that she loved so much, so that she would stop losing herself in reverie. It had been lost to her ever since.

Together they had prepared the lasagna and put it in the tube when the doorbell announced Emma's arrival. Henry immediately ran to answer it and welcome her in. Together they came into the kitchen.

"Hi," Emma said, taking a deep breath. "That smells fantastic. I'm starving!"

Regina peered toward the oven's time display. "You'll have to be a little patient. Henry, will you set the table, please?"

The boy took the three plates she handed him and retrieved silverware from the drawer before running out. When he was out of sight, their eyes met. Regina opened the refrigerator to pull out a large iceberg lettuce. She began plucking fresh bright green leaves off the top.

"Can you wash these for me?"

Piqued, as if the lettuce personally offended her, Emma complied. The expression on her face made Regina laugh in amusement. The next moment she felt her girlfriend's hands, freezing from the water, under her blouse on her bare hips.

"Ahh cold! Are you insane?!" she exclaimed, startled.

Emma put on an angelic expression. "If you want me to eat that stuff, you'll have to give me something in return."

"Isn't the lasagna enough?"

"I'm talking about dessert." Her eyes flashed challengingly. "Or we can make it an appetizer."

Regina closed her eyes when she unexpectedly felt soft lips on hers. The kiss lasted only a short time before it was interrupted by Henry's approaching footsteps, but it was gentle and passionate at the same time. It felt like a lifetime since Regina had allowed anyone to approach her in such a way. Not just in a physical way, but emotionally. It was anything but rational, she knew that, but with Emma it felt somehow right. They hadn't said anything to Henry yet, because they were just beginning to open up to each other and explore where that would take them. They were like two boats in the night, each with its own destination and cargo. They met on the open sea and the parting was far more difficult afterwards. Perhaps in the future they would find their home port together.

"Will the lasagna be ready soon?" asked Henry, looking longingly at the oven.

"In a few minutes, just be patient." She poured the marinade she'd made in the meantime into the large bowl of rinsed lettuce leaves.

"By the way, I was at the farm this afternoon," Emma reported candidly. "Only the man was there. He introduced himself as Freek West and invited me in. The house already looked quite homey for the long time no one was living there."

"She was working at the supermarket, Henry and I saw her there. What do you think of him?"

Emma shrugged. "He was accommodating, offered me a glass of lemonade, and told me they moved here from Kansas. Their farm there was so badly damaged in the last heavy storm that it wouldn't have been profitable to rebuild. His wife had been bugging him to find an area less exposed to the weather for a long time anyway."

"Do you believe him? What does your superpower say?"

"Since when do you listen to it?" teased Emma, grinning. "Seriously, I found it hard to size him up, but his friendliness seemed kind of put-on to me. I guess they prefer to keep to themselves. We probably won't see them around town too often."

Regina regretted that her girlfriend had not met Zelena West too. Actually, her concern had been to introduce the red-haired woman to a contact person she could turn to whenever necessary. She had only seen the couple together once before, and maybe it really had just been the stress of travel. It was not a good idea to get blinded by her own experiences. The shrill alarm of the oven interrupted her reflections because she now had to get out the delicious smelling lasagna under Henry's and Emma's longing gazes.