The List

Chapter 2

I wanted to cry. For many reasons. I'd dreamt about this moment for years and I still wasn't one hundred percent sure it was actually happening, but it was and I was ruining it.

"It's the only Bed and Breakfast in town," I continued. I didn't want to hear Regina's thoughts on me just yet. "And technically we're closed, but if you need something, perhaps I could help you?"

I exhaled loudly. I already felt less stressed and I could tell Regina noticed that, too. "Thank you for the introduction. Don't worry, you made a perfect first impression," she said. "However, it feels wrong to ask for anything. I arrived about a half hour ago and I was wandering around town. I hadn't realized that stores and hotels close at reasonable hours here, my mistake. But it was nice, catching a glimpse of this town at this hour."

"You were in the newspaper," I blurted out. It wasn't even a response to what she'd just told me and I immediately wanted to take it back, but I couldn't, so I decided to continue. "They said the cast and crew wouldn't arrive for another two weeks. Are you here alone?"

Regina nodded. "I always arrive at least two weeks before the rest of the team does. I want to explore the town on my own, get to know the character when there's no one to direct me. It helps," she said. "It feels odd talking to you, while not knowing your name."

She said it kindly and with a smile, but I couldn't believe it. Regina Mills was asking for my name. Her name kept repeating in my head, so many times that it started to sound strangely natural.

"Emma Swan," I said. "My friend told me you were coming here. We used to watch all of your shows together. I didn't believe her at first and I'm still not sure it's actually you. It feels too good to be true, which also sounds weird to say with you present."

Regina laughed and approached me. She had such an elegant way of carrying herself. She held up her hand, when she was close enough, for me to shake it. I hesitantly grabbed it and bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to scream in ecstasy. Her hand was warm and soft. She smelled great and now that she wasn't so far away, I could see her even better. I recognized every part of her face, every detail, because I'd seen it so many times onscreen. She'd been pretty in her shows, but that was nothing compared to real life.

"It's nice to meet you, Emma," she said. "My name's Regina Mills, but I gathered from your reaction that you already knew that."

"Regina who?" I attempted to joke and I immediately regretted it, but Regina laughed. She let go of my hand, but I could still feel the warmth of it.

"So, what are you still doing here in a closed Diner, past midnight?"

Suddenly, I remembered my soup and my eyes widened. "Shit," I muttered and hurried back to the kitchen. Of all the embarrassing things I'd said and done this night, this must've been the worst one.

But when I returned to the kitchen, I was right to have worried, because if I'd arrived later, the soup would've been ruined. I stirred it and added some chopped garlic to finish it. Then I turned off the stove and sighed deeply.

I'd just run away from America's biggest celebrity, who'd taken the time to speak to me. Voluntarily. I awkwardly returned, with a smile to my face and swallowed.

"Sorry for that. I forgot I was cooking, my soup almost burned," I said. "And to answer your question, I'm making soup."

"Telling me your soup nearly burned, almost gave that away," Regina said and she kept smiling. I loved how she smiled. She had a gorgeous smile. "Why are you making soup?"

"I'm one of the chefs here and I love trying to create new things, so Granny, the owner of the Diner, has given me a key, so that I can use vegetables, fruits and all kinds of other things that are leftover from the day to try and make new recipes," I said. "So, now, I'm making soup. A spicy zucchini soup."

"That sounds really interesting," Regina said. She seemed genuinely enthused. "I love that you're doing that. This way, you're not wasting so much food and you do something you like. At least, it sounds like you're really passionate about it."

I nodded. "I am. I love cooking. I love tasting and most of all, I love food. I adore eating. As long as it's any good. I'm not convinced of this soup, I've yet to try it. I would've, but I got unexpected company, so I haven't had the chance," I said with a slight smile and Regina laughed. "Do you.. want to try some soup? I can't promise it's any good."

"I'd love that," Regina said. "As long as it's no bother. I don't want to keep you from your passions and waste your time."

As if Regina Mills could ever be wasting anyone's time.

"I've never let anyone taste my recipes, unless I'm absolutely certain it's good. And I'm not absolutely certain this is any good, so don't get your hopes up too high," I said. "And please sit down. You must be tired after such a long journey."

Regina smiled and I headed to the kitchen to get the soup. I poured it into two bowls and I noticed my fingers trembling. I didn't really understand why I was doing this. Why I was letting the person I'd looked up to for so long taste my soup. Why I was even accepting the fact that she was here and that that was normal. It wasn't normal. It was strange, but it was the truth. Regina Mills was in Storybrooke, at Granny's, waiting for me to get her some soup.

I returned with two damping bowls. Regina had her eyes on me, I had my eyes on the soup, hoping I wouldn't spill anything. I was a chef, not a waitress and it showed. I carefully placed the two bowls in front of her. She'd sat down at the counter and I took a stool and sat down across her, at the edge of the counter.

"Thank you. It smells delicious," she said and I blushed a bit. I couldn't help it. I was flattered already, even though I wasn't convinced this soup was tasty.

I picked up my spoon and tried the soup together with Regina. I closed my eyes to savor all the flavours and decide whether it worked or not. I always did that and I always did that with my eyes closed.

When I opened my eyes, Regina had a grande smile on her lips. "This might be the most delicious meal I've ever had," she said. "I love the red pepper flakes. It gives it some kick."

I was still judging the taste of it and it wasn't half bad, I just didn't think it was exceptional. It was a strange sensation, but I wasn't sure whether it worked. "Hmm," I said and tried some more. "It's the best thing I came up with today, but I'm not yet convinced."

"You're quite critical of yourself, aren't you?" Regina asked. I was, but not more than the average person. I just wanted everything I make to be worth returning for. I wanted people to say "this meal was so delicious, I'd want to eat it every day" and I just wasn't sure this was such a meal.

"When you watch back a scene you just portrayed, are you always one hundred percent content?" I asked. I imagined she wasn't, even though I couldn't find a reason why she wouldn't be.

"Never," she replied. I smiled and she got the hint. People were always most critical of themselves, whether they wanted to be or not. "But this is the best soup I've ever tasted and I'm not saying that to make you feel good. I'm saying it because it's true."

"Thank you," I replied. I'd received a compliment from Regina Mills. I looked at her and I still couldn't believe she was actually sitting in front of me, but she was. And she was eating my soup. And she was enjoying it.