Chapter Text
When Grace got into the car, a little later than she usually would have, she quickly buckled herself in and looked out the side window. Perhaps he’d made her later for school by talking too much about the past.
The car's heater had finally dissipated the remainder of the chill from within and he could relax once Grace was seated beside him. "I was worried my stories might've been too long-winded this morning." He turned a smile her way only to notice she wasn't smiling like she had when she had first laid eyes on the book. "Too much for this early in the morning?" He shifted the car into drive and slowly took the car onto the road. The tall evergreens that surrounded the road gave the impression that they lived deep in the forest. It was something he'd thought Priscilla would enjoy when he was on the hunt for land. It was why he'd decided to have the house built there instead of in town.
“No, I’m glad you told me. Worth it,” she said and shot a quick smile at him before looking away again.
Worth it.
Jefferson blinked at his daughter before looking back out of the front windshield. Lieutenant Grayson — if that was actually the woman’s name. He was likely just mixing the name with Grace’s — had said that to him so many years ago. The memory had just come back to him this morning of Penny’s friend — a woman he hadn’t thought of in longer than he could remember.
“Okay, good,” he said slowly.
“Am I like her?” Grace asked and Jefferson felt something lurch in his heart.
“Who, baby?” he asked, distracted suddenly from his errant thoughts.
She turned her head to give him a look. “Mom!”
“Oh. Yes. About some things, but you’re mostly just yourself,” he said, thinking harder over the question. Grace was kind and sweet, and generous and loving. She went out of her way to help others feel better.
He glanced Grace's way. He caught her smile and reciprocated, glad to see that he must have misread her expression.
With eyes back on the road he considered her question. "You've got her eyes, for one thing.”
“Didn’t Mom have blue eyes like you?” she asked. “Mine are brown, Dad.”
“Yes, but I mean the shape of them is all your mother,” he said, caught off guard by her arguing with him. “And you’re fearless." He sighed quietly. "Your mom had a way of putting up a tough front like armor, you know? Korea wasn't easy. It was a war torn country, daily casualties we tried to fix. We didn't really have time to think about being afraid. You just looked it in the eye and said 'I've got a job to do and I'll be damned if I'm going to let it take me down with it.' It's how we got through it one day at a time. But it's also about honor, and duty, patriotism. Things like that. Things that tell a person that you're not alone in a situation that could cause fear. It gives purpose, meaning, things people are willing to give their life for. And most people have something waiting for them back home. Your mom and I didn't, but we found each other there. Even if she gave me a hell of a time when we crossed paths, it was something to look forward to. Someone waiting for us."
And now, this time around, he would actually have someone waiting for him back home when he hadn't before. He sent a tense, close lipped smile her way. "You're growing up to be a very smart, brave, young lady, Grace. Do you know that being brave doesn't mean you are fearless? The only time someone can be brave is when they are afraid. And that's okay." He reached out to grab her hand to offer a squeeze of support.
“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered and squeezed his hand back but again turned her face away.
Jefferson glanced away from the road to look Grace's way. The tense feeling he'd had began to melt away. They would get through this. Plenty of families do. Theirs was a special family, he was certain of that, but they'd find a way to make it work. His smile was genuine as his eyes roamed her features noting the parts about her, the shape of her eyes so much like Priscilla's even if the coloring was different. The way she smiled even. That was Priscilla, too. It would be okay.
Yet, something tickled at the back of his mind that said, This isn't the forest anymore, but magic still comes with a price. And though he kept a watchful eye on their surroundings as he drove her out of the woods and to her school, he had to counter back to that voice in his head, This is just a city. Nothing dangerous here aside from a rude mayor or a grouchy Granny from the diner.
Jefferson pulled the car up to Storybrooke's school. Kids ran from cars to the entrance. Others avoided waving goodbye as if their parent's cajoling embarrassed them to no end. Maybe he should have taken Grace to the bus stop, but it seemed pointless when he had to drive her anyway.
"Grace," he started as he shifted the gear to park. The cherry red, 1953 Chrysler New Yorker was a bit of a show stopper itself, but after buying it for Penny, he couldn't find the heart to get rid of it even if it was an impractical car for Maine.
Shifting in his seat, elbow over the back of the seat, he paused on his words, unsure if he should say it. To tell her that he would soon have to leave her, leave this town, leave this country. It was a school day after all and she'd be distracted all day, he decided. "Have a good day, sweetheart. I'll take you to get ice cream after if you make good marks." He winked. Of course, she'd make good grades. She always did.
She smiled, her eyes lingering on him for a moment before she surged forward and threw her arms around her father, hugging him tightly.
In that moment, he knew everything would work out alright. He cupped the back of her head with one hand and an arm around her back patting her gently. Being present in this moment, he wished it could last longer. She couldn’t know how much he needed that hug right then, but Jefferson was grateful and hugged her back.
“I love you, Dad.”
He found himself a little choked up at her declaration and that he could only respond with a nod at first. His fingers had remained on her shoulder just a moment longer, not quite ready to let go, but it was time. "I love you, too, my dear Grace."
Someone honked a horn behind them and Jefferson muttered something rude under his breath before releasing his hold on his only child. “You have a great day, okay?”
“You too, Dad.” She sniffed but still avoided eye contact with him and hurried out of the car so fast, he didn’t have time to say another word to her.
Kids were running across the school's lawn, slamming doors. Some waved. Some didn’t. This was normal. Grace should have a normal life with normal, mundane things to do and friends to keep her busy and distracted from what was bothering him. They had a good life set in Storybrooke, and he was glad for Priscilla‘s mark on his life as it was because of her that they had settled here.
Jefferson had spent most of the morning in the local Recruiter’s Office being that it was the closest satellite military facility within over a hundred miles of Storybrooke. He’d argued his point that his daughter only had him. They had no other family anywhere being that he and Priscilla had been only-children and both sets of parents long dead. No aunts, uncles, cousins. Just the two of them. How could he possibly leave his young teen alone?
Boarding school was the suggestion. Seriously? He could have punched the Enson for such a suggestion. Ship her off to be among strangers in a strange town she’d never been to while he was on the other side of the world? No.
Tough luck. Tough shit. He had no choice. He had to go. He’d have to find someone in Storybrooke to care for her so she wouldn’t have to go to a new school and completely disrupt her life worse than it already would with her father leaving.
The afternoon was spent between the Mayor’s office and the Sheriff’s department getting background checks done on any of the potential nannies and kindly elderly ladies that were suggested to him. He wasn’t happy about any of it. “If she was five years older, I could hire her on at the department,” Sheriff Humbert suggested.
Jefferson merely gave his friend a flat look. “She wants to be in the medical field. She needs to go to college. But I’ll be back long before then.” Hopefully, he thought rubbing a weary hand down his face.
Graham patted Jefferson’s back with an empathetic look. “I’m fairly certain there are a number of people in town that will be more than willing to look after your dear Grace.”
Jefferson had called her My Dear Grace so many times, others were now starting to say it, too? He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“They will. And I will, too. She’ll want for nothing. Have you asked Ruby?”
“Uh… she hasn’t volunteered.”
“What about the Nolans? They have a young son. They could help out.” Graham was full of ideas when Jefferson merely wanted to sink into a chair and melt into the cracks of the leather. “You don’t even need background checks on them. They’re saints.”
Jefferson knew he was right. “I’ll ask this afternoon. Think I’m gonna go. Grace’ll be done with school in thirty and I want to be there.”
“Call me before you ship out. We should get a drink,” Graham called towards Jefferson’s back.
“Yeah. Sure.” No, not really, he thought. He was going to spend every hour he could around Grace. Not spent in a bar drinking.
At 3:05, Jefferson pulled the car into the carpool lane in front of the school and waited for the bell to release everyone. There were two ice creams sitting in a Styrofoam cooler with their names on it.
And when he saw his child make eye contact with him across the school yard, emotion hit him hard once again. It took everything he had to keep it down and smile back. This was their time together. These were happy times.
Jefferson turned the most relaxed smile to his daughter than he's held all day. Instantly, the stress and frustration, worry and doubt melt away just as soon as she sat beside him in the car again and excitedly mentioned that she knew what was in the cooler. It was as if the looming news didn't exist at all.
Pulling the ice cream from the little cooler, Jefferson handed Grace a cup with a spoon. After inquiring over her day, he was genuinely interested, but the inquiry was also just to hear her speak. To talk about the little things that were important in life too.
She was nearly fifteen by now. She was almost at the age to start learning to drive. He should teach her to drive Priscilla's New Yorker. It would be Grace's one day anyway, if she was interested. But for the moment, he kept the thought to himself.
After leaving the school and driving around town for a while, they arrived at the hospital's parking lot. "I just need to pick up some records," he explained, nodding at the building. Keeping the explanation short for the moment, there was no need to get into a deep conversation about something routine, he figured. "Come with me?"
She stared at the hospital with the spoon held in her mouth. Just looking up at the building.
“Grace?” he asked, trying to gain her attention.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I zoned out,” she said.
“Will you go in with me?” he gestured at the hospital building again.
“Oh, sure. I love going to the hospital. You know, when I’m not the one getting shots and not on my candy striping shift,” she pointed out.
He chuckled at her use of sarcasm. “I know, I know. But this won’t take long.” And he didn’t want to part from her once he’d just gotten her back.
Something was going on. It was pretty clear that Grace was trying to hide something claiming she zoned out, but he knew her better than that.
The sarcasm and charm… there was something else to it. He did that when he tried to hide something — or con someone into believing a deception, the thought whispered in his head — and to have noticed the trait in his daughter was a sure sign that something was going on.
Jefferson merely cast a side eye at Grace after she turned to pull the door lever, but said nothing. Meeting her at the front of the car, he put an arm around her as they walked, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder.
"Sweetheart," he tried. His eyes focused ahead on the bricks and multi-story building, attention half on the building, half on their steps. "Did my recounting the past this morning..." He paused... wondering how to put this? "Was it too much for an early morning? Talking about your mother?" He squeezed her shoulder encouragingly.
“No, I love hearing about Mom. I promise,” she said. “You could talk about her all the time and that would be fine. I swear. Plus you didn’t even get to the part about when you actually asked her to marry you.”
Jefferson chuckled at Grace's enthusiasm. "Okay. I'm glad." It didn't explain her melancholic mood, but he wouldn't push it. “I’ll tell you more later, promise.”
Pulling the front door to the hospital's lobby open, he walked in with Grace. The reception desk was just before them. He found he didn’t have to request anything. The same receptionist that was there earlier when he made the request was still there. She slapped a clipboard down in front of him to sign for the records with a cheerful note to say it would be ready in twenty minutes. "Feel free to use the waiting room." She pointed towards it.
The hospital's typical noises were slightly distracting and it wasn't the place to have that particular conversation about the future so Jefferson kept just as quiet as Grace did. After sitting for only a brief time, the receptionist called for them again. Jefferson stood to approach the desk but the receptionist shook her head.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to go to record keeping yourself. We're short staffed and I can't step away to retrieve them for you. Go down that hall and turn left at the end. Records are the last room on the right."
"No problem," Jefferson nodded and waved for Grace to accompany him. It had been a nice feeling to have her walking with him before so he would do so again, his hand on her back as they walk.
The records office seemed to be down a hall of patients' rooms as it turned out. Some of the doors were opened with an easy view of the patients in beds beyond.
A loud beeping of an alarm sounded suddenly. It was one of the patient alarms signalling someone needed attention. He looked curiously into one of the rooms and almost had an urge to enter to see if his own paramedic's knowledge could help.
Their progress was interrupted, however, as a nurse jogged out of one room to rush to that one, nearly running straight into Jefferson and Grace from behind. She grabbed hold of their shoulders with a quick squeeze as if to brace them or herself, apologized with a quick, "Sorry! You okay?" and dashed around them without pausing long enough for either to catch a glance at her face. Into the room she ran to tend to the patient.
Jefferson cocked an eyebrow at Grace. "Sometimes, I feel like what I used to do was an entirely different life or a whole lifetime ago," he whispered. "Your mother would have been rushing around like that nurse." This was why he was needed in Vietnam. A familiar call was pulling at him, as well, and as much as he would wish to deny it, to keep his focus entirely on Grace as he had been doing her whole life, he couldn't very well turn it down.
Now, he needed to get his feet moving again towards records which was only a few doors away now, but the voice of the nurse was so busily speaking to the patient that Jefferson couldn't help but wonder if she needed help. The hospital was short staffed after all.
He wandered in, watching as the nurse checked the vitals of the patient. Her brown hair held up behind her head with a pencil shoved through it made him smile but his attention soon went to the patient.
“Do you need help?” he asked her. “I’m a paramedic in the military…”
“No,” she said patiently, checking her watch. “I’ve got this, don’t worry.” She glanced behind herself, then did a double take when she saw Grace. “Oh. Miss Buchanan. So nice to see you. Are you working?”
“No, ma’am,” Grace said.
The nurse smiled at Jefferson before returning to her duties. “You have got to stop holding your breath just to see me, Mr. Anders.”
“Oh, I’m fine now that you’re here,” the old man chuckled before having a coughing fit.
“Drink some water and I’ll be right back,” she told him before turning to fully face the two interlopers in the hospital room.
Jefferson blinked at the nurse. “Hey, don’t I know you?” he asked her.
She smiled politely and wiped her hands on her blue scrubs. “Hm, I’m not sure but I know Grace,” she said and stuck her hand out to shake Jefferson’s. “Elaine Green, Nurse Practitioner. Nice to meet you, Mr. Buchanan. Your daughter is a wonderful candy striper.”
“Oh, thank you. I know she is,” he said after shaking her hand politely, and turned his head to smile proudly at Grace.
“My dad’s name is Jefferson,” Grace said, making the introduction since he neglected to do so himself. His ears turned red in realization.
“Yes, sorry. There’s a lot on my mind,” he said, perhaps looking at Nurse Green for far too long. No, he told himself. He didn’t know her. It was just because he was overwhelmed today. Perhaps he needed sleep.
Grace elbowed him. “Right,” he said, dropping the nurse’s hand. “I’m… we’re on our way to pick up records.” He smiled at Grace and she nodded slowly at him.
He turned abruptly to leave and Grace shook her head as she followed him. “See you later, Grace,” the nurse said. “And it’s nice to meet your father!”
Jefferson couldn’t help it. He felt strange and had to get out of the patient’s room. “Have I seen her before?” he whispered to his daughter, not able to let it go as they hurried down the hall to where he’d been previously directed to go.
Records. Where the hell were the records stored?
“You’ve probably seen Nurse Green because I’m usually on the same shifts as her,” Grace told him. “It would be kind of weird if you started dating her though.”
“What?” he whispered harshly. “I’m not going to date her.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” No, he couldn’t say why. “Because I don’t have time.”
“You could make time,” Grace suggested. “In fact, I’ll ask her for you.”
Grace made to turn around and Jefferson grabbed both of her shoulders and kept her on track with him. “No. I don’t have time,” he repeated. When he glanced over his shoulder to look in the direction from which they came, he saw Nurse Green standing in the hallway, filling out a clipboard. She looked up as if sensing eyes on her and smiled at him.
Jefferson looked forward again. And nearly ran into Victor Whale.