Beane Odette - Reawakened - A Once Upon A Time Tale

She still didn’t understand what had happened between Gold and the florist. She was resigned to the idea that she’d never really know.

There was more. Henry, it turned out, had lost his book during the big storm. (Or, according to him, Regina had used the storm as an opportunity to steal his book.) His castle had been knocked down by the high winds, and before anyone could lift a finger to clean up the mess, Regina had sent in the bulldozers to clear away the wreckage. She’d never liked that Henry had a special place of his own, and she’d hated that it was the place where Emma and Henry talked. Had she known that Henry’s book was buried in the sand? Emma didn’t know. She wouldn’t put it past Regina, but she also wouldn’t be surprised if the storybook wasn’t sitting at the bottom of a landfill right now, a casualty of circumstance.

Henry was upset without his stories, but Emma wondered whether it might not be the best thing for him. She’d promised him she would look for the book, but so far she hadn’t put much effort into it. She wouldn’t mind a little more honesty and a little more reality injected into their relationship.

Seeing him at the diner one afternoon, though, she couldn’t keep herself from asking him to tell her one of the stories. She thought it might help him remember his book and snap him out of his funk. And so when he looked up, mildly interested, and said, — Which one? — Emma responded by saying, — I don’t know. One about love.

— Have I told you how Charming got Snow White to remember him again, after she drank the potion?

— I don’t believe so. What potion again?

— The potion that made her forget that she’d ever known him, — Henry said, the pitch of his voice rising. Emma was glad to see him snap back to life a little bit, although she didn’t smile, knowing it might stop him. Instead she nodded seriously.

— That’s right, — she said. — Rumplestiltskin made it for her.

— Right. And she took it while she was with the dwarfs, because King George told her that he would kill Charming if she got in the way of the marriage.

— Poor girl.

— I know! — Henry said.

— But Charming went looking for her anyway.

Emma listened as Henry told the rest of the story. Charming found Red Riding Hood, and with her help, he eventually found Snow White. Snow White, however, didn’t remember him, and what was more, she didn’t want anything to do with him, as she’d become fixated on killing the Queen. Charming tried to stop her — several times. But it wasn’t until he saved her, throwing himself in front of an arrow she’d shot at the Queen, proving to Snow White that he truly did love her, that his kiss was powerful enough to break the curse, and Snow White was able to remember who he was.

— So after that, — Emma asked, — she didn’t want to kill the Queen anymore?

— She still hated her, — Henry said thoughtfully. — But she had love again, and that was more important.

— And then they lived happily ever after?

— No! — Henry said. — It was only just starting. Because right when it seemed like they’d be okay, King George’s henchmen caught up to them and dragged Charming away again. — Emma found herself wanting to ask him more questions, but just then, Henry stood. — I gotta go to school, — he said. — If I still had the book, I’d give it to you so you could read these for yourself.

Emma smiled.

— I’m still looking for it, — she said. — Don’t give up hope. Not yet.

Henry left, and Emma sighed, sipping her coffee. She was starting to love that kid.

She was at the till, paying Ruby, when the stranger strutted into the diner, his motorcycle helmet under his arm. Not the person she wanted to see right now. She gave him a curt nod.

— Hey, — he said. — Just the person I came to see.

She rolled her eyes and collected her change from Ruby, who eyed him, then smiled at Emma.

— I was hoping we might gel that drink you promised me, — he said. — What do you say?

— Here’s one problem, — Emma said. — I don’t date guys whose names I don’t know. Just a little personal policy.

He nodded again and looked down.

— Fair enough, — he said. — It’s August. August W. Booth.

— What’s the W for? — she asked.

— Wayne. Is that a deal-breaker?

— No, — Emma said. — I suppose not.

— So now you don’t have a reason not to go out with me, — he said. — Tonight. When you’re done with work. I’ll meet you right outside. — He pointed at the door, gave her another smile.

He didn’t wait for her response, and instead walked past her, went out the door, got on his bike, and rode away.

Confident or obnoxiously cocky? Emma couldn’t quite tell. She was still standing at the till, thinking it through, when she looked up and saw Mary Margaret at the counter, in the back corner, watching her with a big, curious smile.

Emma went over.

— I didn’t know you were here, — Emma said. — You’re hiding out like a bandit.

— You were engrossed in some kind of story with Henry, — she said. — I didn’t want to interrupt. More important, who was that? — she asked as Emma sat down.

— That’s what I’m trying to figure out, — she said. — I don’t know. It’s nothing.

— Nothing with you means something, — said Mary Margaret. — If it really were nothing, we wouldn’t be talking about it.

— What are you doing way back here, anyway? — Emma asked. — If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding.

— Yes, — Mary Margaret said, sipping her coffee. — I am avoiding.

— Avoiding what?

She took a deep breath.

— For the last couple of weeks, — she said, — David and I have been…

— …having an affair, I know, — Emma said. She nodded at Ruby, who knew the look: more coffee. This was one of her more epic diner stops in some time.

Mary Margaret was stunned.

— How did you…? — she began.

— It’s obvious, — Emma said. — I’m the sheriff and your roommate. But I think I would have been able to tell if I were a blind shut-in, the way you’ve been acting.

— I didn’t realize it was that obvious.

Emma shrugged.

— Yeah, well, — she said. — What are you gonna do?

Just then Ruby set the coffee down in front of her, and Emma smiled her thanks.

— It’s not what I’m going to do, — Mary Margaret said. — It’s what David is going to do. He’s telling Kathryn. Today.

— Everything? — said Emma, impressed. She didn’t think he had it in him. She was worried for her friend, and David seemed to be a classic manipulator in the end. Apparently it didn’t matter whether you were in a coma and had your brain reset; if you had it in you to be a pig about relationships, that part stuck.

— Everything, — Mary Margaret said. — Absolutely everything.

— And what brought this on?

— She told him that she wants to move to Boston, — said Mary Margaret, — and that she wants to go to law school. So it seems like everything’s coming to a head.

— He’s made grand proclamations before, — Emma said. — And now he’s got you sneaking around town. Be careful, Mary Margaret.

— I know, — she said. — I know. I will.

Mary Margaret was between classes, walking down the hall amid a sea of students, when her cell phone rang. Most times she wouldn’t pick up, but it was David.

— Hey — did, um, did you do it? — Mary Margaret asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

— Yeah, it was bad, — he said.

— I’m sorry, — she replied, trying to sound sympathetic.

— No, it was — it was really bad.