The Christmas Cottage

Storybrooke

Storybrooke was too small to have an airport, so Regina had to fly into Portland International Airport and drive the rest of the way. Tink had already made arrangements for her rental car but Regina still had to fight the holiday crowds to get to the rental desk. When she got there, the harried clerk handed her a key. "You're lucky. That's the last car," she told Regina.

"I didn't know Maine was such a hot destination for Christmas," Regina replied, taking the keys from her.

The agent shrugged. "Everyone wants a white Christmas and we're predicted to get a lot of snow between now and Christmas Eve. I guess they couldn't resist."

"I guess," Regina replied. She held up her keys. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Drive safe and have a happy holiday," the agent told her, doing her best to smile despite how tired she clearly was.

Regina rolled her suitcases out to the lot and found her car—the last Mercedes there. She loaded her big suitcases into the trunk before placing her smaller bags into the backseat. After settling into the passenger seat, she turned the heat all the way up and turned off the GPS but turned on the radio. Even after years of living in New York, she still knew the way to Storybrooke by heart. As she pulled out of the lot, Karen Carpenter crooned that there was no place like home for the holiday and Regina found it fitting.

It was about an hour drive up to Storybrooke, which was a hamlet located on the Maine coast. She followed the highway for almost a half hour before turning off onto a mostly deserted country road that carved its way through a dense forest. Most of the trees had lost their leaves but were coated in white snow. Snow also covered the evergreens that were in the forest and, along with the Christmas music playing, Regina felt the Christmas spirit more than she had in years. A Maine Christmas clearly had nothing on a New York City one for her.

A thrill went through her when she spotted the familiar white and blue sign welcoming people to Storybrooke. She smiled as she passed it, feeling a sense of rightness and calm wash over her. Though she wanted to get to her hotel and get something to eat, she slowed down so she could get a good look at the town as she drove through it—and so she didn't get a ticket for speeding from whoever was sheriff now.

It was about five miles from the town line to the first building, which was the ranger station. The building was locked up for the night but one of the evergreen trees outside the building had been decorated with lights and a star, welcoming Regina back. As she turned onto Main Street, she smiled at the other Christmas decorations that filled the town—including the lights, garlands and wreaths that hung over the streets from wires tied to the lampposts lining the curbs. Many of the stores and the apartments over them had lights and other decorations illuminating the dark December night. And she had to laugh when she spotted the familiar sleigh "crashed" into Granny's Diner. There weren't many people out at that time though she could see the diner was filled with many patrons. She figured it was too cold and so most people were seeking the warmth of being indoors, whether in their own homes or not.

She left Main Street and entered the more residential area, which was just as devoid of people but just as lit up. Regina looked at their decorations with a pang of jealousy, wishing she had the time and space to really go out like them. One day, she promised herself. Maybe next year if you make partner.

As she drove down Mifflin Street, she tried not to look at the large white house bearing the number 108. She tried not to think of the days she spent running up and down that very street before going to greet her father when he got home from work at the cannery. And she tried not to think of all the happy Christmases they spent together in that house. But she failed and a lump formed in her throat as tears filled her eyes. While she loved the feeling visiting Storybrooke gave her, she also avoided it so she wouldn't think of everything she had lost—especially her father.