The drawer slid shut and Henry produced a pair of scissors. "Found it."

Regina made herself known, stepping into the room with a watery smile. "I made snacks in case you're hungry." Her lips twitched at the assortment of veggies on the tray. Are those carrots and broccoli? They're three. "But if you eat enough of these, I was thinking we can make some cookies."

"Yeah!" The children cheered, dropping the scissors onto the desk and darting past her for the kitchen.

Regina stepped into the room, deposited the tray onto her desk, and moved around to the drawer. With careful fingers, she pulled it open and was met with the tiniest hint of a smile on Emma's face. She smiled and pressed her lips to Emma's before leaving the photograph upright against her desk lamp.


"Henry." Regina entered his room that night after dinner once Paige was picked up. Her arms were laden with the box full of Emma's belongings.

He looked up from his spot on the bed, his wet hair combed back after his shower and a comic book laid out before him as he read. He had stopped fighting bath time long ago and had moved on to taking showers like a big boy. He still used superhero bath wash and liked to keep his stuffed animals close, but she couldn't believe the child before her was her baby boy who would only continue to grow bigger and bigger.

"Hi Mom." That was another thing that struck her. Only on weekends when they were alone together or when he was exceptionally cuddly or sick did he call her Mommy. He was much too cool for his friends to hear him speak like a baby.

She sat on the edge of his bed, the box in her lap, struggling to remember the advice Robin, and Archie, and even her friends had given her.

"Hi sweetie." She tucked a loose strand of his hair back behind his ear and smiled softly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

Inhaling deeply, she decided the best tactic would be just to dive head first, so she pulled out a picture from the box, one she came to regularly and handed it to Henry. "Emma."

Henry took it and studied their first family picture from when he was three. He squinted and blushed at the photograph. "Is that me? Why am I so fat?"

Regina laughed out loud and settled comfortably on his bed. "Just your cheeks. You had a habit of sneaking sweets whenever anyone's back was turned."

"What about . . ." He trailed off and darted his eyes back to the picture.

"Emma," she filled in for him, rolling the name on her tongue with right familiarity. "Emma."

"I know she makes you sad," he mumbled, averting eye contact. "I don't want you to be sad."

Regina sighed and hugged Henry to her, kissing the top of his head. "I know, my little prince. I didn't mean for you to pick up on that, but I just miss her so much."

"Me too," Henry admitted, peeking into the box.

"I'm sorry, baby." Regina hugged him tighter, pressing his head to her chest. "You don't have to be scared to talk about her anymore because of me, okay?"

He pulled back looking unsure, so Regina placed the box between them and began pulling out items one by one.

"Did I ever tell you how we met?"

Henry shook his head and guessed. "High school sweethearts?"

She chuckled. "Where'd you learn that term?"

"Auntie Ruby."

"Of course," Regina drawled.

"I thought you always knew Emma."

She pulled out the very first letter she had ever written to Emma and handed it to her son by way of answer. "You were six-months old when Mr. Glass from the newspaper approached me and asked if I wanted to be part of a morale building project to send letters to the troops. . ."


It was a start. Slowly but surely Regina and Henry made it a habit of combing through their memory box together. Regina was careful to remove the letters indicating Henry's adoption because that was one battle she wasn't quite ready for. He grinned at all his drawings and childishly gagged at the borderline love notes his mother and Emma sent to one another once they began seeing each other. She showed him the scrapbook, and Henry got the bright idea to keep filling it. A part of Regina felt the drowning feeling of anxiety overwhelm her with that notion, but she couldn't quell his excitement. He filled in the gaps from the year Regina left off at with any pictures he could spare and added anecdotes to the margins. The pictures kept hidden in the box were free, either pasted into the scrapbook or safely kept in a photo album on the living room table.

What initially frightened her had Regina writing letters more frequently in the same fashion as Henry scrapbooked: speaking to Emma, telling her what they've been up to, but knowing in her heart and in her head that it was all she could expect. Archie commended her, and when she shared her stories with her support group every Wednesday evening, they applauded the slow development.


July 4 2008

Emma,

We've all decided to go away for the long weekend. When I say 'we' it means it was supposed to be Henry and I, but then August overheard, and Kathryn is stressed out from the divorce, so naturally Tina and Ruby have joined. We're going to Augusta where August has insisted we learn how to fish, though I hope he knows he's getting nowhere on that one. Henry's excited though. You can see him in the picture already geared up with his tackle box and pole. August said you would have been terrible at fishing, and I must admit, I'd have to agree.

I wish you were coming with us.


July 25 2008

Emma,

I might have taken a few steps backwards, but Dr. Hopper validated my reaction to an extent. Robin, this man in my support group who has a son with dimples deeper than Henry's, asked me to dinner. I yelled at him in the middle of the street and told him to stay away from me. Dr. Hopper says it's okay not to feel ready to pursue romantic relationships just yet, but quite honestly, I don't think I'll ever be. And I'm okay with that. I gave you my heart, and I'd like you to keep it.

I love you.


September 1 2008

Hi Emma!

I start school tomorrow. The 2nd grade! I'm in Paige and Nicholas' class. We're in Mr. Guerrero's. Ava said he's mean. I'm going to bring an apple tomorrow for him.

I wish you got to be with us this summer. Mom and me went to New York. She said we went there when I was a baby, but I don't remember it, so we're gonna start making a tradition. We also planted my own cherry tree in our backyard! It's still a baby, but me and Mom are taking good care of it.

I miss you and I love you lots. Rex and the family say hi too.

Love,

Henry


November 3 2008

Emma,

Look what Henry and Uncle August decided to match as for Halloween. It was bittersweet seeing Henry in that army costume again, but I don't think I ever got to see Sergeant Booth until last Friday. He said he wanted to go as you. I teased him and asked if it was because you were scary, and of course your brother had to be smart and say if he wanted to be scary he would have dressed as me. He's lucky I love you.

I know you've been watching watching over us.

I'll see you again one day, my love.


A week later when a majority of the town gathered around the common square for Veterans Day, Regina and Henry laid down flowers at the base of the Founder's statue. Henry placed down a bouquet of yellow lilies. 'They're like Emma's hair,' he had claimed. And Regina had whispered a promise into a single red rose before laying it down beside his bouquet. The sound of rifles firing eleven times weren't louder than the contagious laughter and soft murmurings of Emma's voice in her head.


Regina didn't drink on the three-year anniversary, though she was sorely tempted to. Archie praised her, but she wasn't in the mood to be encouraged like a child.


In January, vowing to start the new year right, Regina and Henry spent the second half of his Christmas break painting nearly every room in the house. Gone were the monochromatic walls that made the pristine mansion look like a model home. In its place were Marigold Yellow hallways, a Salem Red living room, and a Tavern Green playroom. The duo had pushed aside and wrapped all the furniture, donned their sloppiest clothes (for Regina she had to resort to buying a tank top and sweat pants) and set about bringing life to the house. The perfectionist in Regina made sure Henry chosen colours that matched, but for the most part, he was the boss on the project, and as the president, he framed the extra pictures from the scrapbook and the album around the house. Regina smiled genuinely as he straightened the frame of the three of them on the fireplace mantle.

Change was in the air, and every time she heard a whisper of Emma's name or an event on the news about soldiers overseas, it hurt a little less and her acceptance grew a little more. Regina could safely say she was happy.

There were times over the following months where Regina would watch Emma's video message on repeat, read the conversation of their letters like it was her favourite novel, or slip her arms into Emma's oversized US ARMY shirt and inhale the scent of the worn material, believing for just a moment she could still smell Emma in the fibres. After three years the scent was long gone, but it was okay. Wherever Emma was, she wasn't hurting. She was safe. That was all Regina could ask for. If she ever forgot that, she more easily believed the numerous people in her life reminding herself.