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.


"You have everything?" Regina crouched down by Henry, an oversized and overstuffed duffle strung across his chest as he squirmed in her grasp. "Canteen? Flashlight? Bug spray? Change of underwear?"

"Mo-oom," Henry groaned, looking around to see if any of his friends heard.

She didn't care for his embarrassment, instead clasping his cheeks in her palms with a shaky and tight grip. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'm sure we can get your wilderness badge by pitching a tent in our backyard."

"Mom," the eight-year old whined again. "I want to."

She nodded uncertainly as the boys from his Boy Scout troop began to slowly file onto the bus.

"It's just one night."

"If you get frightened or want to come home, just tell Troop Leader Harkness, and he has all my numbers," she reminded him for the fifth time that morning alone.

"I know."

"Here." She reached into her purse and retrieved Rex, holding out the worn and limp dinosaur for him.

He blushed and shook his head. "It's for babies."

Regina's face dropped. "It's Rex."

Henry bit his lip conflicted and leaned in to whisper. "I want Rex to take care of you for tonight ."

She frowned but held the stuffed toy to her chest and nodded again. "Now you didn't answer me. Do you have fresh underwear?"

"Yes, Mom," Henry groaned under his breath.

"Listen to your Troop Leader and don't go around telling ghost stories or staying up late." She smoothed his hair down and out of his face, but Henry leaned back and swooped his fingers through it to get it to look messy again. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom." She hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek, rouging his skin before he took off toward the bus.

She watched him move through the bus and sit down beside Nicholas, looking past his friend briefly to smile out the window and wave. After a few minutes, the bus departed, and the parents bidding their sons goodbye that early May morning either stayed to chat, drifted back to their homes, or stopped by Granny's to beat the breakfast rush.

Regina stayed standing on the corner of Finch and Meadowvale for the longest time, watching the bus shrink in the distance before it turned a corner and disappeared entirely. A knot in her chest tightened. He'll be back tomorrow.

Sighing, she held on to Rex's claw and walked the short distance back to the mansion. For Saturday morning, the streets were a bit more alive than usual. Multiple parents apparently opted to spend the day outdoors in the newly bloomed landscape since they were already up and about. April had been especially rainy this time around, so the sunshine in the new month was a blessing in the New England air.

Regina couldn't fully enjoy it though. She was too acutely that by the time she reached home, no one would be there to greet her. It's just for one night, she reminded herself again. He's with other boys, and Harkness has done this trip a million times, and Nolan is on patrol tonight. That last thought didn't give her much hope, but that was partially due to her distaste for the man.

Reaching Mifflin, it was only a short walk to her front door, and as soon as she stepped in, she never realized how large the mansion was until then. The colour certainly made it more inviting, but standing under her staircase, tossing her keys into the bowl by the side table with a hollow clang, made her feel so very small in her home. She couldn't even remember the last time she was home alone since having Henry.

Calming herself down some, she moved briskly to her kitchen and immediately began scrubbing down her stove. The splotch of grease from when August fried pork chops four nights before was more stubborn to get out, but the steel wool under her fingertips dug into the stain. The stove, along with the oven, the sink, and the counter tops, was spotless in an hour, and Regina looked around for more to do. Curse her natural cleanliness. She barely needed to wipe anything down. She didn't need to go into the office. August was helping Marco with a few orders. Ruby was working until dinner at the diner. Perhaps Kathryn or Tina would come over. She scowled remembering Kathryn was at her father's place for the weekend and Tina, though exuberant with energy for the preschoolers she taught, was hell to be around on weekday mornings.

She fiddled with the circle pendant on her necklace then nodded determinedly. She could face Tina's wrath quite easily.

Just as she reached for the phone, a knock sounded at the door. Her pulse jumped. What if it's about Henry? She left him on the bus an hour ago, could he have really gotten hurt already? No, they would call. She raced to the door regardless and pulled it open swiftly.

Her breathing halted at the first sign of yellow hair.

"Hi."

Chapter 24