Miguel Lopez walked into his living room just after 4.30pm. His daughter lay asleep on the sofa and his wife sat on the floor below her, her back leaning against the sofa. She had been crying.

"I came home as soon as I could," he said quietly. "What's wrong with my girl?"

Inez looked up at him and shook her head, "Nothing, she's perfect exactly the way she is."

She reached out her hand to her husband and he helped her to her feet. They both went through to the kitchen. Inez's laptop was lying open on the kitchen table. Miguel sat down at the table, Inez stood with her back to the counter, her arms crossed over her chest as if hugging herself.

"Where do I start? The meeting at school was because they're concerned about Santana - they say she's been late and her grades have fallen. They were all being so goddam sympathetic and saying they knew she was having a hard time, struggling…struggling with her sexuality. And they showed me this video."

Inez played the campaign advert for her husband. He remained silent.

"Santana is gay, Miguel." She sat next to her husband and took his hand. "OK?"

Miguel exhaled slowly, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, she told me. Miguel, you need to be OK with this, Santana needs you to be OK with this. I need you to be OK with this. So, if you have any issues, you need…you really need to just deal with them in private, because our little girl in there is almost broken and she needs us to just love her and be there for her. OK?"

Miguel looked a little shell shocked, but nodded his head. "OK, it's OK. I…I didn't see this coming."

"I didn't either, and I feel like the shittiest mother in the world. She's been carrying this around with her for god knows how long and I didn't even notice. What kind of mother am I? My daughter's been in pain, and I didn't have a clue – the school noticed before I did."

"Hey, don't blame yourself, sweetheart."

"I don't just blame myself, I blame you too, Miguel. We're her parents, it's our job to know what's going on with her and we both were just asleep on the job. You know, Julio was 17 when I went back to work full-time. Santana was only 12. What was I thinking?"

"Girls mature faster – you were still dressing Julio when he was 8, Santana was picking her own outfits and dressing herself before she was 3. She's just always been so independent and wilful – it's hard to know what's going on with her - you only get to see what she shows you."

"No, Miguel. We should have known, but we've been too absorbed in our careers, working too many hours. I should have been there for her more, instead of leaving so much of it to your fucking mother…" Tears fell again down Inez's cheeks. "I'm going to cut my hours, be there for her until college. Make up for lost time."

Miguel pulled his sobbing wife close to him. "OK. It will all be OK."

"She was scared to tell us, Miguel, worried we would reject her. How did we get it so wrong?"

"Please, honey, hush. We'll fix this, OK?"

"I think she's being picked on at school because of this – there was stuff written on her locker. And, take a look at the comments below that video. What's wrong with people?"

Miguel pulled back from Inez and took hold of her face, looking directly into her eyes. "We're going to fix this, do you hear me? Santana has us, and we're going to support her. We'll sort things out at school and we'll be here for her at home. OK? She has us in her corner now and we make a pretty great team." He pulled his wife back in to him and rocked her back and forth for a long while.


"Does Santana…does she have someone special?" Miguel asked his wife once her tears had subsided.

"Brittany." Inez stated simply." I don't know the details - I'll talk to her about it. But, I think they split up. I think your daughter is nursing a broken heart."

"Brittany?"

"Yes. Don't think about it too much. I've already been thinking about all their sleepovers – just don't let your mind go there."

"OK," Miguel chuckled lightly.

Inez sat up straight and rubbed at her face and exhaled. "Right. Now, I am going over to see your mother and tear her a new one."

"My mother?"

"Yes, Alma. Santana came out to her, Miguel, and that stupid old woman told her to get out of her house and never to come back." Inez shook her head. "How could she do that? Do you know she didn't even get Santana a Christmas gift? Bitch!"

Inez stood and picked up her purse and coat. "So, I'll go have a chat with your Mami, then I'll go to Breadstix and get some take out. I'll get Carbonara for Santana, what do you want?"

"Don't bother, Inez."

"I'm sorry, Miguel, but I will not be able to sleep until I have given your mother the full benefit of my opinions. I have to go yell at her. I have to."

"No, I meant don't go to Breadstix. I'll cook La Bandera, Santana loves that even more than Breadstix."

"OK" Inez smiled at her husband and leant over to kiss him quickly. "Thank you."

"It's been a while, but I think I still have the knack. You know, I make it better than my own mother, don't you?" He smiled at his wife.

"I know, but we're not telling her that secret. I might be able to talk her round about Santana, but I don't think that's a blow she could take."


FYI - I think I read somewhere that Santana's grandmother is from the Dominican Republic and Google tells me that La bandera is a typical Dominican meal - apologies if Google is lying to me.