Fair warning: don't get used to me posting three times a day. Just wanted to get all the girl's pov's out there.
And another thank you to those of you who took the time to review. It's very much appreciated!
So, here's Beth's point of view. I'd really like to hear what your thoughts are.
Beth's POV
Lima, 2022
After slamming the front door shut with a loud bang, she drops her backpack in front of the couch and makes her way to the kitchen. All the while, she is rambling about things happening in school today, knowing her Mom can hear her. Knowing she's sitting at the kitchen table, just like she always is, even after everything.
She also knows her mother is still hurting. That she won't stop hurting for a long time to come. If ever. She knows she herself is the one to blame, but even knowing that, she just doesn't know what to do to about it. The consequences of her actions are visible every day. It's as if they're screaming at her from every nook of the house. The empty mantelshelf, where her awards used to be on proud display, remains mockingly empty. As if her mother wants to remind her every day of how much of a screw-up she is and, truthfully, she has every right.
Nothing is as it should've been. This is not the way she figured things would be like after she left. She wanted normal, but what she got instead was anything but normal. Her mother crying, still so often, in the shower or her bedroom late at night, is not normal. The heated phone conversations, the fights she overhears, are not normal. Coming back to a house that's no longer warm and secure is not normal. She just doesn't know what to do about it.
She should apologize, but doesn't know how to. She's afraid there won't be enough words in the dictionary to relay exactly how she feels about what's she's done. Because it's not just her Mom that's hurting. Beth is hurting too, so much. She wishes she'd known beforehand how much it would hurt. It would've changed everything.
It's only since Rachel has left that she knows who made the house come alive. Without the energy, seemingly bursting from the dark haired singer, everything looks and feels different around her. It's like everything's covered in a layer of dust and she'd give everything to have the shine return to their home, knowing that Rachel's the only one who'll be able to bring it back.
Beth remembers now. How it used to be. Not the past year or the months prior to that, but the years before that, when everything was as it should be. When Quinn was Mom and Rachel was Momma and Beth was Drizzle. It's been a long time since anyone's called her Drizzle. She misses how much she used to hate it when her parents called her that.
She misses the warm hugs and the laughs. She can even admit to missing the palpable chemistry between her Mom and her Mo … Rachel. Being as young as she is, she now recognizes how both women seemed to thrive in each other's presence. Always touching, however briefly, or showering each other with heartfelt compliments or whispered encouragements. And both so passionate and stubborn in their arguments, it almost made the air crackle with electricity. And she misses that too.
The last argument they had, in Beth's presence that is, was the night their life together was coming to an end. After months of arguing between the three of them, it had come down to a bend or break situation. Thanks to Beth, the outcome had been a break of epic proportions.
Shuffling towards the kitchen, she braces herself. Squares her shoulders, takes a couple of deep breaths and forces herself to smile even though it physically hurts to. She feels armored now. Against her mother's obvious pain and the fake smile so much her own. Upon entering the kitchen, their eyes meet and weary hello's are exchanged as well as those halfhearted smiles. Beth feels like crying and senses her mother isn't faring any better, because too soon her mom's gaze shifts away from her and locks onto the chipped surface of the kitchen table, as she seemingly drifts off into her mind. Beth doesn't blame her. The memories are so much better than this screwed up reality. She just wishes she could tell her Mom that she feels the same way. That she remembers how it used to be and how much she wishes she can go back in time and undo all of the hurtful, hateful things she's said and done. But she doesn't dare broach the subject in fear of her Mom telling her to learn and live with it because she has no one to blame but herself. And Beth knows that it's true. Knows that her Mom knows it too.
So they talk about school and work and the weather, while drinking tea and crumbling biscuits with trembling fingers. They don't talk about Rachel and they don't talk about what happened. They just sit there and pretend everything's okay, until Beth feels the walls of the kitchen closing in on her and says she should start on her homework or until her Mom insists that she really should start dinner. And then the tension breaks, if only for a little while, only to return as soon as mother and daughter are in the same room again. It's like they're complete strangers living in the same house and the feeling is making Beth sick to her stomach. Literally. She knows her Mom loves her more than anything, but she also knows she's not been forgiven. Not just yet.