"I'll have you know that parental bonding is a key step in child development," Tina said pointedly ushering a couple students and their moms and dads out onto the rink before putting her skate guards back on to check on the other students.
Regina stepped onto the freshly zambonied ice and offered her hand to Henry. "Would you like a pylon, dear?"
The boy stuck his tongue out between his teeth as he tested the slipperiness of the ice with a little pressure from his foot, but that was all he needed to instantly lose his balance and slip haphazardly on the ice, grasping onto Regina's arm and leg for dear life.
"Woah, woah, wooaah!" He flailed, gripping Regina just as she held him under his arms to his feet.
"I think you need that pylon now." Regina motioned to the other children slipping and sliding gracelessly as they held onto the top of a pylon the size as they were.
"No," he said determinedly. "I can do it by myself."
She smiled fondly and moved in front of him, crouching low and holding the very tips of his fingers as he took the tiniest baby steps forward.
"Good job, Henry," Tina called as she skated by them, making her rounds to all the students who had finally made it out of the change room and onto the ice.
He was distracted momentarily by his teacher's praise to grin happily and wave. The sudden movement of his arm made his balance falter, and suddenly he was flailing all over again and fell to the ice with a hard thump. It was the shock more than the impact that made his bottom lip jut out and his eyes water.
"Henry!" Regina gasped and quickly knelt to the ground, struggling to lift Henry up to his feet while simultaneously attempting to keep balance.
His lip quivered and his cheeks reddened, and Regina knew what was coming next.
Like a clockwork his mouth opened and a loud wail erupted from the small boy. Tears streamed down his face as he helped Regina lift him by scurrying into her arms. Regina pulled him easily into her arms, but when she stood, walking on skates while holding a bawling three-year old was like running a marathon on ice. She was the sole person going the opposite way as the class of ten and their parents skated clumsily around the rink. She barely remembered to apologized as she kept to the barrier attempting to avoid them and finally made her way to the bleachers.
Henry was still crying as he nursed his wrist. Regina sat him down and took his hands in hers, checking frantically over his body. "Sweetheart, what hurts?"
He pointed to his hand that was reddened by the fall, and Regina cursed herself for not making sure he had worn his gloves and mittens.
"Do you want to go home?"
He shook his head as his whimpers died down, sniffling once before wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
"Are you sure? We can sit down for a minute."
He shook his head more insistently this time, hurrying to wipe his eyes as if to prove he was still capable of skating though they still kept watering and his bottom lip was still pouting.
"Henry, I know you're a big boy–"
"I can do it," he said leaving no room for argument. There was no doubt who his mother was in that instant, and the twinge of pride bursting in Regina's chest couldn't be helped.
Frowning for a moment, Regina nodded and helped him to his feet. He held her hand tightly as they approached the rink once more, but this time he held on to the divider wall as he inched his way onto the ice. Most of his classmates had taken up the pylons with a few already expert skaters holding their parent's hand easily as they went around the rink. A couple were sliding along the ice on their knees, keeping to the middle of the rink to avoid anyone's path while Henry stumbled along the wall.
"There you go," Regina encouraged as he passed millimeter after millimeter.
He slipped and fell to his knee but refused Regina's help when she reached down to lift him. Instead, he used the wall as a crutch to lift himself upright, grinning proudly up at his mother when he didn't go stumbling to the ground. Regina moved in front of him, a foot away as she held out her hands to encourage him forward. The sudden image of teaching her nine-month old how to walk came to the forefront of her mind, and she grinned realizing that this was exactly like that. It amazed her how seemingly insignificant moments continued to be her fondest memories.
"Slowly, Henry," she encouraged. "Take your time."
She nearly yelled at him when he removed his hand from the wall, walk-skating forward determinedly, but she refrained as he put one skate in front of the other. He lost his balance but found it again, but the interruption seemed to give him momentum as he all but ran the final few steps forward into Regina's reach.
"I did it!" He cheered happily, his arms tight around Regina's neck.
"You did!" She beamed, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Again?"
By the end of the hour, Henry had made his way around the ice rink all by himself with only a handful of falls under his belt. Regina was just grateful there were no sliced hands given the sharpness of his training skates, but she was thrilled that Henry had learned and improved. She was just helping him off of the ice, joining the procession of parents and children making their way back to the change rooms and to the party room Tina had booked for their lunch when Henry asked, "Can we show Emma I can skate now?"
Regina masked her expressions at the sound of the soldier's name and did her best not to show anything but excitement and support in front of her son. In her worry and paranoia of how things had left off with Emma, she failed to realize that Henry would also be affected should the soldier disappear from his life. It unnerved her and frightened her and excited her all at the same time. "Of course, dear," she finally answered.
"We can go when it snows and then we can build snowmen and snow angels and have hot chocolate and build snow angels and eat snow," he planned excitedly, talking through as Regina lifted him onto the bench and unstrapped his training skates, completely ignoring his mother's surprised face at his last plan. "I'm gonna buy her skates for Christmas and we can go skating."
"Are you?" Regina asked amused.
"Yeah," he nodded determinedly.
Tina clapped once and then thrice more in quick succession, and all the children in the change room stopped what they were doing to mimic their teacher.
"Okay, kiddies, who wants some hot chocolate?"
The class cheered their agreement before ushering their parents to where Tina had led them. It was there as Henry sat at a table with styrofoam cups of lukewarm hot chocolate and marshmallows that Regina was given the time to herself, and lately that time was usually spent half worrying about Emma and half scolding herself. Especially given her latest realization that more than two hearts could be broken should anything go awry made Regina's stomach churn.
Regina always prided herself on being the best she could be. Her mother had instilled that in her from a young age, and it only continued to morph until Regina was a meticulous perfectionist. Many adjectives she could use to describe herself – resourceful, cunning, passionate.
But right now she just felt like an ass in this room of hyper children and sociable parents.
The very next day after their argument, she had received a letter from the soldier dated close to a month back reassuring Regina that she was fine. She read the letter over and over again as if that could speak on Emma's behalf. Regina was foolish to think that it could remotely be her accepting her apology, but the brunette was just that desperate.
Hey, Emma had said.
I know it's been a while, but I'm still here. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. We went out on one of those missions, kind of like in the movies, you know. Except scarier and 3D with the moving seats and everything. But I'm okay. I got a couple cuts here and there. Nothing I can't handle. I just wanted to let you and the kid know. More you really. Don't tell Henry.