Chapter One
"Hey babe, it's just after six…just checking to see if we should- Charlotte! Get down from there! … All the way down… Anyway, I was checking to see if we should go ahead and eat without you…again. Call- Yeah, Max. No, it's just her voicemail. Okay, okay. I'll tell her…Max wants to take Ruffles to the park tomorrow. Call me when you can. Love you." Brittany heard a tiny voice in the background. "And Max loves you." And right before the Santana hung up, "And Charlie loves you lots and lots."
"Damn," Brittany muttered to herself as she merged onto the freeway that would lead her home. She checked the dash for the time. 8:19. Santana was probably not going to be happy, nope, not happy at all. She punched the phone button on her audio system, "Call my wife."
She waited through four rings before disconnecting. Not a happy homecoming on the horizon at all.
Brittany sped up just a little. Maybe something she should have done a few hours ago as she sat at her desk looking at storyboards for the new commercial New Directions was producing for a national chain of tax firms.
She loved everything about her job. She always had. And now she was responsible for everything since Holly Holliday had died in a tragic attempt to paraglide into the Super Bowl halftime show. In better news, Holly had left Brittany the whole shebang. New Directions was hers. Unfortunately, sometimes that made time with her family a bit scarce.
When she pulled into her driveway, she saw that the house seemed dark. She parked her car next to Santana's SUV in the garage and grabbed her bag. While walking to the door, she nearly tripped over Max's brand new bicycle. She cursed and righted it, leaning it against the wall.
"San," she called out when she was inside.
Nobody answered.
Brittany set her bag on the kitchen table as she made her way through. She threw her jacket over it and saw dishes stacked in the sink from dinner.
"Santana," she said a bit louder than before. "Maxxy? Charlie?"
Santana's cell phone was resting on the countertop. Brittany clicked the button and watched as the screen lit up with a background picture featuring all four family members. The picture is just so like Santana. She's actually the only one with her eyes open, which looks like she just popped her head into a picture of the rest of them napping.
Brittany smiled at the picture before noticing that the indication of her call was still displayed on the screen.
When her family was finally located, Santana was sleeping on the couch. Her arms tightly wrapped around their baby. Of course, Charlie was hardly a baby anymore. She had turned three last month. That didn't stop her from drooling on her Momma's shoulder, though. Max was curled into a ball, head resting on Santana's lap. The family dog, Ruffles, had taken up residence on Max's feet. The soft glow of the abandoned television provided just enough light to illuminate a picture perfect moment. She pulled out her cell phone to capture it when she heard the most annoying sound.
"Cute, huh?"
Brittany jumped and dropped her phone and then in her haste kicked it right under the couch.
"Were you going to take a picture?" the voice asked. "Don't worry. I got one already. It's probably grainy, though. You should probably get one. Or I'll email you mine…just did."
At first, Brittany feared the very worst. Rachel was there. She was in the house. The voice was coming from inside the building. Then, for a split second, she considered the possibly that God had the same voice, but that was outrageous. God's voice was probably deeper, more of a bass. She eventually landed on the most probable explanation.
She turned to the soft glowing television, that was actually not so soft and glowing when it was 50 inches of Rachel's face.
"You scared the hell out of me," Brittany said to the tv.
"Sorry," Rachel apologized. "I was trying to be quiet."
"Why?" Brittany looked again at her sleeping family. "They're asleep. Why didn't you just end the chat?"
"We were in the middle of an important conversation," Rachel said. "She just fell asleep. I figured when she woke up, we could continue said conversation."
"A conversation about what?"
"Oh, Britt," Rachel did her condescending chuckle laugh, "The wedding, of course. I have a week to pick an escort. Interviews have to start ASAP. That escort must have some viable project going on. Project viability requirements must be considered."
"A movie or record release," Santana said groggily. "Viability requirements."
"Hey!" Brittany said to her waking wife. She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips as she collected Charlie.
"Movie," Rachel said. "Anybody can just put a record out. All those kids that win SingChamp put records out within the month."
"Well, anybody can upload a movie to Youtube," Santana argued. She nudged Max, who sleepily complained.
"True," Brittany said as Charlie wrapped her arms around her Mommy's neck and snuggled in. "I made a behind-the-scenes commercial documentary last year. It won an Internet Commercial Documentary award for best self-published behind the scenes commercial documentary under half an hour."
"If I remember correctly, Sugar won Best Non-Actress in a Internet Commercial Documentary for that."
"Supporting Non-Actress, actually," Brittany answered.
"What happened to awards being a sacred, highly publicized thing?" Rachel wondered. "I long for the good ol' days when it meant something to get a coveted award. You know, before you-know-who won that Oscar."
"Someone's still bitter about a breakup," Brittany whispered.
"I broke up with her!"
"You keep saying that," Santana said. "But when you're so defensive, it makes me question that validity of your statement."
"I think 'award-winner' needs to be added to the list of viability requirements," Rachel changed the subject. "Highly publicized, but not necessarily an Oscar. Since the Academy gives them out like candy."
"No," Santana shook her head.
"I insist," Rachel demanded. "This is a big event, Santana. It's a merging of entertainment and politics."
"Yes, you've mentioned how important it is…to you."
"He's marrying the president's son…in a big gay ceremony. Big deal!"
"Huge deal," Brittany agreed.
"For Kurt," Santana reminded everyone. "Not Rachel."
"I introduced them," Rachel said proudly.
"Like you introduced Brittany and me?"
"Yes, exactly like that," Rachel said in wonder. "Damn, I'm good at matchmaking."
"We'll continue this tomorrow," Santana said, not bothering to jump into that argument for the hundredth time.
"I want to fin-"
Santana used her "Rachel Remote" to shut off the camera. She held it up in triumph to Brittany, "I love this thing. Seriously, if I had this thing back in New York, I would have never left."
"Hey!" Brittany looked offended.
"Oh, yeah," Santana playfully pointed. "I came for you, not to get away from her. Yeah, yeah."
"Su-ure," Brittany rolled her eyes.
"You got me," Santana set the remote down.
"I did," Brittany responded. She shifted Charlie slightly and called for her son, "Max, get up, bud."
Santana ruffled his messy hair, "Bed time. Let's go."
"Ugh," Max tried to burrow further into the couch. "Gunna sleep here."
"Not a chance, kid," Santana said, grabbing a foot to tickle.
"Mom!" He pulled away quickly. "No, no, no."
"Santana," Brittany admonished her wife. "Don't get him riled up."
"Okay!" Max gave in after just a few seconds of tickling. "Okay, I'm going."
"Thank you." Santana gave Brittany a smug look. "It works like a charm."
Max got up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and made it a few steps before Brittany stopped him.
"Wait, wait," Brittany interrupted. "Max, get Mommy's phone. It's under the couch."
He sighed, but still immediately complied. The little guy crawled under and pulled it out. He returned it to his mother, "Here, Mommy. If you keep dropping it, you're going to break it."
Brittany took it with her free hand. "Thanks for the advice."
"Sure thing," he said as one corner of his mouth turned up.
"Bed. Go. Now."
"Brush your teeth first," Santana reminded him. "I'll be in a minute."
They watched Max trudge off, with Ruffles hot on his trail, until Brittany turned her attention to Santana. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your message until I was in the car."
"Figures," Santana eyed her. "You never called, so eventually I just fed the kids sugar cookies and grape koolaid and them run amuck."
"Excellent mothering!" Brittany held up her hand for a high five.
"Up top," Santana said as she slapped Brittany's hand.
The sound startled Charlie, who lifted her head of her Mommy's shoulder.
"Hi baby girl," Brittany said immediately to try to head off any outburst.
It seemed to work as Charlie gave her a little smile. "Hi Mommy."
"Oh, yeah," Santana frowned. "You get smiley, happy Charlie. I got whiny, spoiled Charlie all night."
"She loves her mommy."
"Hm," Santana rolled her eyes. She rubbed her hand over the girl's back. "That she does."
"You two are just too much alike," Brittany imparted. She let Charlie examine her earrings in detail. "You both have that Lopez attitude."
"She's spoiled."
"So are you."
"Possibly."
"And you're both gorgeous," Brittany said before giving her daughter a smooch on the cheek. "Right, Charlie?"
"Uh huh," Charlie agreed.
"My girls are the prettiest girls ever," Brittany sing-songed.
"I see you're trying hard to make me forget that you were working all night."
"Noooo," Brittany said, grabbing for her wife. "I'm just saying."
Santana easily let herself be pulled in and accepted the kiss from her wife.
"Kissies!" Charlie reached out and smushed their heads together.
"Moms!" Max shouted after they heard the bathroom door shut. "My teeth are brushed, are you coming?"
Santana lingered for a split second. "Yeah, Max," she called. She returned her attention to Brittany, "Do you want to double team or go one-on-one?"
"Double team," Brittany answered.
"K," Santana acknowledged as she headed for her son's room. "Pick a book, bud."
"Got one," Charlie said, knowing the routine well by now.
By the time Santana, Brittany, and Charlie arrived, Max was already in bed. Ruffles had already staked his position at Max's feet. Max flashed the book at them as they entered. "This one, Mom."
"Again?" Santana asked.
"It's my favorite!" Max defended his choice.
"Okay." Santana smiled and climbed in next to him.
She took the book and began to read while Brittany and Charlie slid into bed on the other side.
It didn't take long before Santana was reading to Brittany while the kids slept through the end of the story they'd both heard a hundred times. When she finished, she set the book on Max's nightstand.
"So why so late?"
"I had to sign on off some storyboards for Beth and Taxes."
"Ah," Santana said as she rolled over to her side and brushed down Max's hair. "How's it looking?"
Brittany arranged Charlie in between herself and Max and turned to mirror Santana's position. "On time."
"He needs a hair cut," Santana curled some of Max's curly hair around her finger.
"Yeah, I'll take him tomorrow after we take Ruffles to the park," Brittany offered as she tucked a few longer strands behind her son's ear. She glanced up to Santana to gauge her mood. "So...we also had the L.A. expansion meeting."
"Yeah?"
"That's an interesting choice," Brittany mentioned quietly. "Lots of advantages."
"Los Angeles, huh?" Santana breathed. "What happened to Chicago?"
"It's still on the table," Brittany said. "And Dallas."
"Dallas," Santana thought about that. "That might be interesting."
"Not as interesting as L.A." Brittany stilled herself for an argument. "I know what you're going to say."
"I'm not saying anything."
"I just know that wouldn't be your choice."
"No, it wouldn't."
"But I have to think about all the options."
"Of course, you do." Santana reached over, palm up, waiting for Brittany to clasp her hand. "And we'll go wherever you do, but…"
"But you hate Los Angeles."
"No, I don't," Santana denied that. "I just don't want to raise my kids in that environment. I can't have Charlie growing up to marry some two-bit rapper."
"Are you more worried about Charlie marrying a two-bit rapper or Max getting some actress knocked up?"
"I'm equally worried about both those scenarios."
"Are these the kinds of things all parents worry about or are we just overly neurotic?"
Santana thought about that for a moment, "I bet it's universal."
"We don't have to move, San. We both love it here. We love the house. The kids are comfortable here. We don't have to move," Brittany tried to assure her. "I can just send somebody else or I can go back and forth."
"No," Santana said resolutely. "No. We're not doing that."
"I don't like the idea-"
"No, Britt," Santana repeated. "We've done that. To try now would be…just no. If you go, we're all going. We'll be together."
"Babe," Brittany squeezed her hand. "We don't know what's going to happen just yet."
"Yeah," Santana shifted back into Max's pillow. "First we have to get through this wedding."
"Shouldn't you be saying that with more pizzazz?"
"Pizzazz? No, I refuse to," Santana scoffed. "I'm so tired of hearing about that damn wedding."
"But it's the wedding of the century, didn't you hear?"
"Oh, I've heard," Santana complained. "Were we this annoying before our wedding?"
"Oh hell no," Brittany said quickly. "Kurt is a regular bridezilla, but Rachel…I mean, she was crazy, but this is..."
"It's on a different level."
"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "But just another week, babe. Then back to regular Rachel business."
"One wedding, that's all."
"We'll just power through this trip," Brittany said as her eyes suddenly got heavy. "Then we'll concentrate on the expansion."
"Both our families in their entirety, plus Rachel's crap and Kurt's wedding," Santana shuddered just thinking about it. "Not to mention dealing with the kids away from home. It's going to be crazy."
"Isn't it always?"