Somewhere Down The Road

Chapter Three

"Well," Cora begins, "looks like someone stocked our refrigerator for the visit."

"Probably Mr. Gold. I assume you told him we were coming," she answers from the living room, peering out across the neon green grass and the white fence to keep the horses within their property.

The scene before her is beyond beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. Was it always so vibrant, the splashes of color so full and stunning? Or is she just older now and can take a moment to appreciate the countryside? Either way, it's no wonder her father fell in love with this land.

"Momma, uppie!" Henry declares, his chubby little hands opening and closing in rapid succession.

Without a moment of hesitation, she swoops down and lifts him onto her hip but her eyes never stray from the fishery down by the lake. Maybe she's hoping to catch a glimpse of David, her mind so accustomed to seeing Emma immediately after, always in his shadow. But the lake is calm like glass this evening, not a boat or human around to disturb the peace.

"I'm starving but I don't want to cook," Cora informs her, scaring the crap out of her because she didn't think her mother was this close by.

"Unfortunately, we are in Storybrooke," she deadpans. "There isn't a restaurant for at least another twenty minute drive."

Cora tsks, stealing Henry from her arms and settling him against her hip instead. "You don't listen to me when I speak, do you?" Regina quirks up a skeptical eyebrow, so her mother proceeds. "I told you it's been a while since we were here. Things have changed," she claims, then waltzes out the front door with her baby and not another word.

"Mother, what are you talking about?" She calls after her, rushing to chase her down the wrap-around porch.

She never did appreciate how gorgeous this home was when she was younger but what child has time to admire the craftsmanship of stunning pillars or the bright white paint decorated with beautiful handmade shutters painted black to contrast so elegantly?

"Mother!"

"There's a restaurant now at the end of the road. Mary Margaret told me all about it. Just opened up last year," Cora explains, scurrying toward Regina's car, most likely for the stroller.

"Don't you want to drive there?"

"We are in Storybrooke," Cora huffs, fighting the damn stroller from the trunk like it's refusing to leave her car. "We don't drive when we are here!"

"Do you want to take the golf cart?" She offers, motioning toward the four car garage with all kinds of toys stored away.

"Let's walk. It's beautiful out and I think we could both use the exercise and fresh air."

Regina doesn't argue because she has spent the last month breathing in sterile products and hunched over in a chair. She does in fact need the exercise and fresh air. So, she takes the stroller from her mother and opens it up for Cora to place Henry inside. She pushes Henry down the hill, onto the road that has seen better days and is starting to crumble.

She glances back over at the Swans' little blue ranch but not a soul is wandering around, nothing like when they were kids. That damn screen door was always screeching its protest from the amount of times it was flung open and slammed shut in one day. She can still hear the sound creaking as if someone is just opening the door now. Either Emma or her little brother, Davey were running around their front yard, or Mary Margaret would be hollering at them to come eat. And today, well, today the cozy home almost looks abandoned.

"When was the last time you spoke to Emma?"

Regina swallows down her anxiety. "Six years ago," her shaky voice just barely confesses.