Conversations with Mama Lopez
Author's Note: This continues "Mama Lopez' Rules" – the week Santana is grounded and her mother is working from home. Rated T for mature-ish content and some bad language. Post 3x09. A little bit of Brittany, but mostly Santana and her Mama.
Monday morning – WMHS Hallway:
Santana sees Brittany at her locker, getting her books out for her next class.
"Hay Britt," Santana greets her quietly. "How was things with your parents when you got home?"
Brittany half smiled and turned to Santana. "Not too bad. They gave me the 'We're not mad, we're disappointed in you' speech, for lying, which I expected I guess. They're fine though. With me. With us," Brittany shrugged.
Santana breathed a small sigh of relief. "I'm glad Britt. For you. That it's not weird. With your parents. After my mom told them…um…about…you know…" Santana stumbled a bit with her words. It was awkward trying to give her girlfriend comfort and congratulations at the same time.
"I'm not looking forward to my week. Mom's home all week and Dad's away at some medical conference. So it's just me and her. All week. Yeah. This is gonna suck," Santana sighed.
Brittany gave Santana a half hug and a sympathetic pout. "Look San, it could be a good thing. Spending time with your mom. You know, be a little more…open with her…or you two could, I dunno, bond or something," Brittany suggested hesitantly.
Santana looked at Brittany like she had grown a second head.
"Britt, after I told my parents about me and us, Mom and I have a good system. She doesn't ask. I don't tell. We don't 'talk' and have 'heart-to-hearts' like you and your parents. We have an understanding. She doesn't treat me any different. Which means we don't talk about dating. Which is how I like it," Santana explained.
Brittany nodded and forced a small smile. Brittany wished Santana could be more comfortable with her mother. But Santana had to get more comfortable with herself first, Brittany thought.
"San, just give it time," Brittany said, and gave Santana's hand a squeeze and turned away, off to her next class.
Santana stood there, watching her girlfriend walk away, and pursed her lips. Santana couldn't imagine any amount of time that would make her comfortable talking about her feelings with anyone but Brittany, and even that was difficult. Talking about relationships with her mom? Santana chuckled to herself and shook her head at the thought. Snowball's chance in Hell.
Monday evening – Lopez Home:
Santana dropped her Cheerios bag just inside the front door. She was tired, but humming a tune to herself, smiling, thinking about the "quality time" she and Brittany shared in the locker room showers after Cheerios practice just an hour ago. She had what can only be described as a giddy smile as she half sung, half hummed a tune. She may be grounded, for the week, but that didn't mean she and Brittany couldn't find some alone time after Cheerios practice.
"For someone who's grounded, you're certainly in a good mood," Mrs. Lopez commented.
Santana snapped out of her happy daze and spun her head around to meet her mother's smirking face.
"God Mama! You scared me. I thought you'd be in your office?" Santana half asked, half commented.
"I'm done for the day. I was just taking a break from making dinner," Mrs. Lopez replied. She stood with her arms loosely crossed around her stomach, giving Santana a questioning look.
"And you didn't answer my question. What's got you in such a good mood? Last time you were grounded I was sure that scowl you had on your face for a week was going to be permanent."
Santana shrugged and turned to the hall closet. "No reason. Just a decent day," she replied, taking off her jacket and hanging it up.
"Need help with dinner?" Santana asked, walking into the kitchen past her mother, not looking at her.
"No thank you," Mrs. Lopez replied, following her daughter into the kitchen, conceding this round of inquiry. "It's in the oven. It'll be ready in a half hour."
Santana grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and nodded. "I'm going to my room then," Santana replied and gave her mother a quick smile and dipped her head, and ascended the stairs.
Mrs. Lopez watched as her daughter went upstairs, her Cheerios skirt bouncing along with her steps. Mrs. Lopez let out a sigh and shook her head, drumming her fingers on the kitchen counter. "This might be a long week," she thought to herself.
/
Mrs. Lopez called Santana down for dinner. Santana promptly appeared, because Santana was actually starving.
"Mmmm, looks great Mama, thanks," Santana smiled, and immediately filled her plate with food.
"You're welcome dear," Mrs. Lopez smiled at her daughter's appetite and lack of pretense. "How was school today?"
"It was fine. Aced my history test," Santana smiled.
"Congratulations Santana," her mother beamed. "I'm so proud of you." Mrs. Lopez took a sip from her wine glass. "Have you decided on a college yet?" she inquired.
Santana paused and chewed her food. Swallowed slowly, and stared at the food she picked at on her plate. "Um, no, not yet. I want to wait and see…" Santana voice faded.
"See about what honey?" Mrs. Lopez looked a little concerned. "Your grades are great. You've had a couple cheerleading scholarship offers from Ohio State AND Michigan," Mrs. Lopez encouraged.
"I know, I just don't know if I want to stay here, in the mid west. No offense," she quickly looked up at her mother. "It's not you, I just…" Santana looked deflated.
Mrs. Lopez folder her hands, and spun her wedding band around her finger idly.
"It's harder for you here," Mrs. Lopez conceded quietly. "Is that it?"
Santana nodded, turning her head to look out the window. Not wanting to look at her mother. That was part of it. The other part was Brittany. Was Britt going to get into college? Would she stay and going to community college first? Would she try out for a dance program like they had talked about over the summer? Santana just didn't know, and it weighed on her.
Mrs. Lopez's heart broke a little with Santana's admission. The toughest part for her, as a mother, was not that Santana was a lesbian, but that, because of that, life was going to be a lot harder for her daughter. Mrs. Lopez had a constant internal struggle: Support her daughter and love her and accept her versus protecting Santana from the hate she'll no doubtedly face. Mrs. Lopez feared Santana's already experienced some of the latter.
"Just so you know, your father and I will support your decision, where ever you choose. On one condition," Mrs. Lopez looked at her daughter, waiting for Santana to meet her gaze.
"Conditions?" Santana looked concerned and confused at the same time.
"Condition. One. It's simple Santana. We'll support your decision on your higher education, but you do have to choose a four-year college or university. You're smart and talented. The world is yours for the taking. So I need you to take it."
Santana nodded in agreement with her mother. She did want to go to a four-year school. She wanted to get out of Lima and make her mark on the world. Santana just couldn't imagine any of it without Brittany. Santana bit her bottom lip, in thought.
Mrs. Lopez noticed this. "Hay, you have time, but I want you to be thinking about it. And Santana, remember, nothing is permanent, and nothing is forever. The decision about what college you go to is important, but it's not the end of the world, even though it seems like it right now. Okay?"
Santana nodded and smiled. "Thanks Mama. I'll think about it, I promise."
"Good, now help me with the dishes," Mrs. Lopez stood up from the table.
Santana rolled her eyes and huffed.
"Drop the attitude and pick up the sponge. You're washing and I'm drying. Come on," Mrs. Lopez encouraged.
Santana and her mother did the dishes in silence. Santana worked on her calculus homework in the den, and Mrs. Lopez turned on the TV in the living room to watch the news and settle in for the evening.
Santana closed her calculus book with a sigh. Her homework was done, and now she didn't know what to do with herself. She had at least two hours before she could convince herself she'd need to go to bed. She usually spent this time with Brittany, on the phone or anything. But no Brittany. No phone. No laptop. Nothing. Santana's leg bounced up and down. What to do, what to do…Santana got up and walked towards the living room. Settling her mind on convincing her mom to let her watch her favorite shows.
/
Mrs. Lopez was sitting on the couch idly flipping channels until she landed on a show about gay teens and bullying. She put the TV remote down and leaned forward to watch and listen. Her mind reeled. Had she missed the signs? Should she have known sooner? Did she work too much?
Mrs. Lopez went though her mental checklist: Santana had excellent grades. She was captain of the Cheerios. She had solos in Glee club. She had friends.
Mrs. Lopez decided that despite her and her husband's work schedules, she doesn't think being around more would've shown any of the depressing signs of a bullied gay teen.
But she new her daughter had been hurting and scared. Mrs. Lopez couldn't get the image of a shaking, nervous Santana out of her mind, when she sat them down and told them she loved girls.
Mrs. Lopez watched sad story after heart-wrenching story on TV about how tough gay teens had it in schools across the country. Mrs. Lopez wiped a tear from her eye. Her stomach turned, thinking about what Santana could go through. Might've gone through, but hadn't told her.
"God, how can people be so cruel?" Mrs. Lopez said aloud. She reached for a tissue and blew her nose.
Santana walked into the living room and saw her mother sniffling at the TV. Then Santana saw what her mother was watching. Some cross between "Intervention" and "It Gets Better" videos. Santana swallowed hard.
"Crap," Santana thought to herself, "Mama's gonna want to talk about me now. Me and Brittany. Oh God." Santana began to step backwards, as quietly as she had entered a few minutes prior.
Everything was smooth as silk, as Santana breathed a little easier. She could feel the stairs that led to her bedroom getting closer and closer, until the area rug got in her way. The edge of the rug met her heel, and she landed abruptly and loudly on her butt.
"Fuck!" Santana yelled in pain.
"Santana! Language!" her mother yelled. "Wait, are you okay? What happened?" Mrs. Lopez asked, getting up from the couch.
Santana got up slowly, "Yeah, I'm okay Mama. I just tripped."
"Honey," Mrs. Lopez bent down to finish helping her daughter stand up. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing. Nothing, just heading up stairs to my room. That's all," Santana quickly blurted out, avoiding eye contact with her mother, who had put a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder.
Mrs. Lopez looked at her daughter, then back at the TV, where the show about gay teens being bullied continued to play. It dawned on her that Santana had been secretly watching her and the TV.
"Honey?" Mrs. Lopez asked quietly, rubbing Santana's back. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Santana folded her arms, and shot her mother a shocked and worried look.
"No Mama," Santana dismissed. "No. I'm fine. I'm good. Really. Everything's great. I'm just tired."
Santana turned away and walked upstairs, not looking back.
Mrs. Lopez looked up after her and sighed. "No one said raising kids was easy, but dammit, I didn't know it was going to be this hard."