Remember that it had been worth it because she saved lives. She was a hero like Henry says. A hero.
Her ears kept ringing.
July 15, 2004 - Storybrooke, Maine
"Cocoa powder?"
"Check."
"Powdered sugar?"
"Check."
"Powdered milk?"
"Why it like this?" Henry picked up the box and asked for the second time with a disgusted look on his face.
"We can't send Emma a jug of milk now, can we?" Regina explained, taking note that she had the ingredient.
"Where the straw go?" He asked genuinely confused, examining the top and looking for a straw hole like in his juice box.
Regina grinned and shuffled the grocery cart along as Henry continued staring at the box contemplatively. "It's a different type of milk. One that won't spoil quite as easily."
He furrowed his brows, still unsure of this contraption his mother called milk before dropping it in the cart behind him and reaching to grab his favourite pick up of the day. "And we gots these!"
A bag of mini multicoloured marshmallows was clutched firmly in tiny hands as Henry grinned widely at his mother, no doubt concocting ways to sneak a treat.
"Yes, that is a very important ingredient. Emma can't have her hot chocolate without some marshmallows."
He nodded quickly in agreement, though Regina was sure it was just to speed things along. "Can I have one?" He squinted one eye and held up a finger in hopeful persuasion.
Regina sighed, barely containing the urge to roll her eyes. "I've no idea where you get your sweet tooth from."
"I'm sweet," he grinned innocently though by now it bordered on mischievous.
This time she did roll her eyes with an affectionate shake of her head. "Sweet you may be, but you are still not allowed a marshmallow."
He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest and glared.
"Nice try," Regina acknowledged as she continued her way down the baking aisle, picking up a package of chocolate pudding mix, Nesquick, and powdered creamer.
Regina had received a letter from Emma that day, and though she was ecstatic to hear from the blonde since the last time they had spoken on the phone was during Emma's Independence Day celebration, she was upset by what Emma had told her. Her nightmares were back, and though Emma said nothing more than: I've been having trouble sleeping. I really miss talking with you; Regina knew that the blonde was haunted by something she wasn't ready to share.
It pained Regina to receive that letter partly because Emma had written it six days ago, so who knew what her condition was like or if she was over it. That was another in Regina's list of things that was difficult about snail mail. The distance between events made them over and done with as soon as the letter was put into the mailbox. But moreso, Regina felt utterly and totally useless. Before when erratic groaning and mumblings from her guest bedroom woke her up, she was able to check on Emma, sit on the edge of the bed and sooth her back to reality where they would sit and talk – sometimes of her dreams, but sometimes Emma begged for a distraction so Regina would lead the younger woman by the hand down the stairs and put on a pot, making hot cocoa just for Emma. By the second nightmare Regina was already pre-emptively putting whipped cream and cinnamon on the drink. But now, as she sat in Storybrooke reading about how Emma was losing sleep to her unforgiving mind, Regina didn't know what to do.
But she was Mayor after all, so within a moment she had come up with a plan. Hence, the sudden grocery trip and visit down the baking and kitchenware aisle. If Regina couldn't be there to be Emma's dream catcher than perhaps she could make the morning after more pleasant and easier to bear. Hopefully her plan would work out since she wasn't entirely familiar with the more creative items she could send to those in service. She had to think on her feet a little once she realized she'd have to modify her hot chocolate recipe in order to accommodate the trip to base, but she was fairly certain the flavours combined would make an excellent hot cocoa. It was the packaging that had her at a standstill for a moment until she got to the kitchen aisle and found the perfect container.
A plastic jar similar to a mason jar would do the trick already imagining the layers of cocoa and sugar and marshmallows with a dash of cinnamon on the top. She'd have to bubble wrap it just in case, but hopefully it wouldn't be considered contraband items. The last thing she wanted was for Emma to get in trouble.
"Henry," Regina scolded when a crinkling got her attention. Henry had twisted his torso in his seat and was trying to bite open the marshmallow bag.
"Pleeaase?" He asked as politely as he could.
Regina shook her head and removed his grip on the bag, placing the marshmallows at the furthest end of the cart beside the newly acquired jar. Raising an eyebrow indicating that this was Henry's final warning, she moved to her purse to fish out his juice box and a baggie of arrowroot cookies. "Trade?" She enticed holding up the offering.
"Yes!" He held up his hands in a gimme gesture and immediately popped the plastic straw up, taking a healthy swig. "Thank you, Mommy."
"You are welcome, sweetie." She kissed his forehead and moved to turn the cart around. "We just have to get Emma's tea and we'll go home–"
"Oh, sorry!" Kathryn Nolan, basket in hand, nearly collided into Regina as the brunette swung her cart.
"Forgive me, Mrs. Nolan, I didn't see you there," Regina apologized politely and maneuvered her cart around the blonde.
"Please, Regina, you can call me Kathryn, you know," she said meeting the Mayor's gaze.
Regina broke contact for a split second, remembering the days when she had called her Kathryn, Kat actually, back when they were younger and she had still been Kathryn Ouro and she Regina Mills, two teenagers stressing about school and sharing stories about crushes, more like secrets on Regina's part, but that had been a lifetime ago.
Like everyone else, she had pushed Kathryn away after her parents' deaths and secluded herself from everything and everyone. She had made a name for herself as she devoted herself to her studies and ambitions, graduating with honours from Harvard and retreating back to her hometown to become its youngest Mayor. Her emotional distance from others made her focus on the town, and when she decided to adopt Henry, it was a toss-up whether her claws extended or retracted, depending on the boy's presence in the given situation. Regardless, she had history with the woman before her, so she smiled a touch more genuinely and nodded.
"You're right, Kathryn. How have you been?" She asked in her mayoral tone.
"Good, I've been doing good. I've made partner at my father's law firm."
"Congratulations." Regina smiled sincerely, offering her old friend a brief squeeze on the arm.
"I haven't talked to you lately," Kathryn said taking a step toward the cart to smile at Henry who had a half melted arrowroot in his mouth. "Do you remember me from the fair? My husband gave you that super cool tattoo."
Henry chewed quickly and rushed to swallow in his need to answer. "Yeah!" He nodded in recognition. "The police off-cer gave me the flag like my flag."
The two women chuckled at his vagueness though to him it had made perfect sense. Deputy Nolan, after his shift on dunk tank duty, had spotted Henry's US flag pin on his shirt and high-fived the three-year old, giving him a temporary tattoo to match which Kathryn had helped to stamp on his cheek. Regina hadn't said much to the couple then, far too preoccupied with Henry's barely contained excitement so his mother could send a picture of it to Emma right then and there, but clearly the memory stuck with the boy.