"Who's Henry?" August furrowed her brow.
"Her son." Emma turned from the table, already heading out of mess hall.
"You're friends with her son?" He called after her, but the words fell on deaf ears as Emma deposited her dinner tray on a trash receptacle and nearly jogged out the hall.
Emma sat on her bunk with goodies littered all around her. Spitz sunflower seeds nestled in between two boxes of Sweet N Salty granola bars. A clear bag filled with miscellaneous items like a mini sewing kit, a new toothbrush, travel sized hand sanitizer, and Chapstick sat in Emma's lap.
Emma had never gotten a care package before, never mind a gift meant specifically for her in mind rather than obligatory presents from foster parents to show their generosity to her social worker. She had pulled each item out of the box with such care, one would think there was gold hidden within them.
Gratitude flooded Emma's senses, and a sense of deep awe struck her that this near stranger had cared enough, for Emma of all people, not only to continue writing to her, but to send her something for the holidays. It may not have meant much to Regina, but it meant the world to Emma.
Her current object of attention was the letter she found stashed at the bottom with her rank and name scrawled on it in Regina's script. She nearly abandoned all the items she had taken out in her haste to open and read the letter.
December 23 2001
Private Swan,
I realize this may not be arriving to you as quickly as I would like. The postal office said it would be useless to send it express since it would still have to be sorted with the hundreds of mail incoming to your camp, but it was worth a try.
Henry picked out the card and the flavour of sunflower seeds. I hope you enjoy the Cracked Pepper, though I tossed in the salted ones for you just in case.
I was uncertain as to what to send. I researched some wish lists for troops, and it said those are some things the average soldier likes. I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries or making you feel uncomfortable with this gift of sorts. I just know how unusual the holidays feel when isolated.
And to answer your question, Henry is eight months. He's only learned to crawl a month ago, but the speed that he possesses would have you think he's been crawling since birth. We're still working on the walking and talking though.
In the event this letter doesn't arrive in time, I hope you and your troop had a happy and safe Christmas.
I hope you have a good New Year as well, Private Swan.
Sincerely,
Regina Mills
December 28 2001
Hi,
Thank you so much for the gifts. You really have no idea how much I appreciate them. You didn't have to go to the trouble at all on doing that. Seriously. Thank you.
Tell Henry I love the sunflower seeds and the card. I have it taped up on my wall beside his artwork.
And you're not overstepping any boundaries. It was probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I wish I could give something to you in return. Wow, I just realized I don't even really know what you like. I don't suppose you'd like a Swiss Army knife?
I'm kidding. Totally kidding. Pretty sure I couldn't send it out anyway.
But really, if there's ever anything I can do to repay your kindness, I will.
So, and you don't have to answer at all, but how come you know what lonely Christmases feel like?
You know, when I got your first letter, you were nothing like I had imagined. Not that I even have a good grasp on you now, but still. I thought your kid was a teen, and now that I know he's a baby, well that's close enough right?
I grew up with a few foster siblings, and it's crazy seeing babies grow up. They do it so fast. One day they can't even sit up by themselves and the next thing you know they're hiding in cabinets trying to scare the crap out of you. I highly suggest safety locks.
What do you think his first word is going to be? Is he closer to "Mama" or "Dada"?
I hope your town isn't causing you too much trouble.
Good luck in the new year too.
Emma
January 6 2002
Dear Private Swan,
It was no hindrance at all. You'll be happy to know that Henry drooled excessively once I told him you enjoyed his selections. Yes, drool is cause for celebration.
You would be correct to assume that I have no need for an army knife. If I possessed that, I would be the closest thing to a mob boss in Storybrooke. As you can tell, my town is flourishing with crime. Aside from work and Henry, I generally spend my time cooking and reading. Generic, perhaps, but relaxing nonetheless.
I suppose I did out myself on that one. It's not an interesting tale, mind you. My mother was distant, and I lost both my mother and father at quite a young age, so I guess we're in the same boat when it comes to not quite having a family. That is until Henry came along. I hope Mama is his first word since it's just he and I right now. Right now it's just raspberries and babbling as he attempts to talk. The doctors say he's developing normally though and that children grow at their own pace.
I appreciate the tip, though I'm sure I may have beaten you to it. Nearly everything is covered in puzzle mat paddings, there are gates everywhere, and more than once I ran late to a meeting simply because the lock mechanism on it was too difficult to pry open. It took my town's Sheriff nearly an entire day to set it up to my standards. There's no harm in being cautious of children's safety.
Happy new year, Ms. Swan.
Sincerely,
Regina Mills
Regina curled the final 's' of her surname as she signed the letter, giving it one final look over before she folded it and inserted it in an envelope. She made a mental note to purchase more envelopes when she noticed her supply was running low just as the sound of Henry's pitchy cry sounded through the baby monitor. She quickly jotted down her address and Emma's base camp before setting it on her desk to be mailed out later on that day.
As she left her home office to attend to Henry, Regina was unaware that she had made a new, and arguably her first, friend in Private Emma Swan. She had no idea how often in the coming months she would frequent the post office for new stamps and envelopes as she would be sharing tales of Henry's growth, revealing personal stories of her youth, and being a confidant to Emma when the days got too tiring or when the fear of being shipped to Iraq caught up with her. As Regina lifted Henry out of his crib, pressing a kiss and rouging his chubby cheek, she laid him on the change table, blissfully unaware that after three years of correspondence, she and Emma would finally meet.