A/N: In honor of the finale tonight, I decided to post this extra long update for you! I'm excited and sad all at once; I don't want the season to end! It means we'll have to wait months again for more of our wonderful guilty pleasure; it was hard enough the first time! But I'm sure your terrific reviews will get me by, just as I hope more updates will get you by. We'll help each other through these tough times!
The hallways were always quiet at this point in the afternoon, though it was still relatively early considering the sun hadn't yet vanished beyond the horizon. There had been countless times that Shelby hadn't gone home until long after dark, but today she had a good excuse to head home at a reasonable hour. And she was scared shitless about it.
She was focusing on keeping her breathing slow and steady as she neared her office. Rachel had left the door cracked, and through the gap in the door Shelby could see her sitting in her office chair, scrawling on a piece of paper. She quietly entered so as not to distract the girl's focus, but Rachel had been correct about her sensitive hearing.
"Mom," Rachel said as she looked up in surprise, and Shelby sighed at the name. She wasn't sure if it were proper. A mom is someone who has always been there. She was no mom.
"I hope you were able to keep busy."
"I was outlining a paper for history. Is it okay that I used your computer?"
"As long as you weren't peeping at my Vocal Adrenaline stuff, it is perfectly fine."
Rachel laughed lightly. "It was tempting."
They both packed up in silence; Rachel folded up the sheets of loose-leaf paper that she had been working on and put them in her pocket. Then she helped Shelby log out of her computer while the older woman pulled together the work she had to do that evening for the next day's classes. Shelby wasn't sure what to say to break the uncomfortable quiet until she was locking up her office and they were walking out towards the parking lot together.
"How did you get here? Did you drive?"
"I don't have my license. I took the bus," Rachel admitted, keeping pace with Shelby's long strides as they walked.
Shelby stopped suddenly when a horrible thought struck her. She cursed loudly and buried her head in the hand that wasn't gripping her bag. "I left you here yesterday without a ride! God, what's the matter with me? I'm so sorry, Rachel…"
"It's okay," she said, but it didn't make Shelby feel any better. How could she be so thoughtless? The girl was barely legal driving age, and though she had arrived with two other girls to the theatre the day before, she left alone, meaning there was a tremendous chance she didn't have a way home. And the so-called responsible adult with her didn't even care to find out if she'd be okay before she left her alone like the spineless coward she was. How could she possibly expect to be a mother to this girl? "I called my dad and he came to get me."
Oh great, thought Shelby, and to hide her embarrassment she began walking again, putting a couple of extra feet between them. "Your dads must be furious with me."
"They certainly didn't seem happy with the situation."
"What did you tell them?" Shelby asked, slowing down so she could look Rachel in the eye. "Do they know about the tape?"
She hesitated before finally admitting, "No."
Shelby exhaled with relief. While she didn't want Rachel to lie to her fathers, she knew the tape, which wasn't a direct violation of their contract, was an underhanded move and decidedly rude.
"It felt too private, I guess," Rachel said. Shelby smiled to herself, knowing that Rachel regarded the recording as meaningfully as she had when she made it. Well, maybe not quite as much, considering she was on the verge of drunkenness when she recorded it and there was always a direct relationship between her alcohol intake and her emotional levels. "So I told them that I saw you at the school and just knew. That's the truth…to a point, anyway. I don't think they want me to see you anymore, though."
They had made it out to the parking lot, and there were only a couple dozen cars left in the large lot. Usually when Shelby left campus, there was less than half of that.
"I'm just going to presume the obvious then and say that they don't know you're here."
"I don't want to hurt their feelings," Rachel said uneasily, her eyes scanning the lot. "Which is yours?"
"The dark-red SUV over there in the faculty spaces. Where do they think you are?"
"They know I participate in a variety of clubs that can greatly occupy my time," Rachel replied matter-of-factly. "As long as I'm home by curfew they don't mind."
"They must trust you."
"They know I am not interested in anything that might impede my future," Rachel explained as they reached the car.
Shelby opened the passenger door for her daughter and waited for her to climb in, but when she stepped up a pale pink thing slipped out from under her cape and fell to the asphalt. She reached down to pick up the plush pig and peeked up at Rachel's exasperated expression. "Was this…stapled on?"
"Ugh, that's been happening all day."
Shelby couldn't suppress a quiet laugh. She handed Rachel the toy and shut the car door, walking around to the other side of the car so she could get in herself. As she started the car and pulled out of the lot, Rachel pressed on the radio. The CD that had been playing on her ride over that morning was still in there, and Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way" began to play through the speakers.
"You can change that if you want," Shelby said, wanting Rachel to be comfortable. She wasn't sure what kind of music she listened to, though she assumed show tunes were a given. Maybe she left one of her Broadway soundtracks in the car…
"No, this is good," Rachel said, her eyes focused at everything outside of her passenger window. Shelby considered asking her if the air temperature was comfortable for her or if she needed sunglasses, but figured that might be overdoing it.
"Loving you isn't the right thing to do. How can I ever change the things that I feel? If I could, maybe I'd give you my world…"
Shelby gripped the steering wheel unnecessarily tight as she listened to Lindsey Buckingham's lyrics. She knew he had written them about Stevie Nicks, but she could relate to these lines a bit too well for comfort. She wondered if Rachel was thinking about the words like she was, and if so whether she had any idea how poignant they were for Shelby.
"…You can go your own way (go your own way)…"
She turned down the volume so she wouldn't continue to make parallels between her complicated relationship with her daughter and Fleetwood Mac's drama. Shelby didn't want Rachel to go her own way, though the annoying voice in the back of her head was continually reminding her that she was no good for the girl. Her greed for a family and for someone to love was overpowering her good judgment regarding her daughter's well-being. She tried to curb her betraying thoughts and focus anything else besides that maddening truth, like Vocal Adrenaline's next number (a Queen song) or the costume that was the reason for this discomfiting episode in the first place.
After a few minutes of quietness, she felt the need to say something, anything, so she went with the last thought. "I can't help but think that whatever the hell you're wearing reminds me of a Lady Gaga outfit I saw during my research," she mentioned as casually as she could, her tone hiding exactly how perceptive she truly was.
"Then my dads and I got something right with this silly thing," Rachel muttered, her hands playing with the foot of some random teddy bear or other that peaked out from underneath the blue cape she wore.
Shelby's lip quirked up as she watched Rachel fiddle with her outfit out of the corner of her vision and added nonchalantly, "What a coincidence we are both doing Gaga numbers."
Rachel stiffened in her seat. Turning quickly with an apologetic look on her face and her mouth open as though forming her excuse, it took her a moment to realize that Shelby was teasing her. Of course Shelby realized that New Directions copied her theatricality idea; it didn't take her long to figure that out. They smiled slightly, meeting each other's gaze quickly, before Shelby had to pull hers away in order to make the turn into her neighborhood.
Shelby's smile faded and she exhaled quietly, knowing it was best they didn't talk about Glee. It was the one thing they knew for sure they had in common but they were rivals. Any further discussion could lead to disclosure of important, competitive information. She was glad Rachel was staying quiet; she wasn't interested in the details of New Directions' routines, just as she didn't want them knowing hers. It was fair that way.
Still, she had agreed to help Rachel with her dress, so she persevered with the topic, "I think I'm going soft. That dress is starting to grow on me. Maybe we can actually make it work."
"Good," Rachel said, her lips curving upwards as she looked at her mother. Her face changed when Shelby turned into her driveway, her brown eyes transferred to the dark house in front of them and her body was so still Shelby wondered if she was breathing.
Shouldn't she be the only one who was nervous? She was about to bring the daughter she barely knew into her home. She hadn't had guests over for, what, months now? And she didn't expect any of this to happen this afternoon. Nevertheless, she bravely lead the way to the front door, her security light brightening at the movement, and put her keys in her door with shaky hands.
"Do you live here alone?" Rachel asked her quietly as they walked in to the empty house.
"Yes." She dropped her keys in their bowl and turned on the lights to the foyer and adjoining rooms while Rachel pulled off her coat. The room wasn't the only thing that brightened.
"Wow," Rachel said quietly, and let herself into Shelby's sitting room with wide eyes.
It had been a long time since she looked at her home from the perspective of someone who had never seen it before. If someone wasn't into music, she could imagine that they wouldn't find the den very relaxing, but considering Rachel's interests, Shelby was proud to allow her time to look around.
The centerpiece for the space was her beautiful grand piano, which she kept immaculate. Rachel treaded softly toward it and touched the keys lightly with her fingertips, admiring the quality of the instrument. Next to the piano were Shelby's other musical instruments, waiting in their cases for her attention: a cello, an English horn, and a covered vibraphone. There were others that she had learned to play over the years, but these were the ones she kept coming back to. One day she intended to add a harp to her collection, but considering how expensive and cumbersome they were, she was in no hurry.
Shelby's child drifted across the hardwood floor towards the sitting area by the front window that only received attention when Shelby decided she needed a different place to spread out her work. She had nearly forgotten about the photographs that she had displayed on the end tables and on the mantel above her neglected fireplace (using it was bad for the piano), and her stomach twisted up tightly when Rachel reached up to one of the picture frames and pulled it down to study it.
Shelby hung up the cape that lay forgotten on her arm and put down her attaché case before carefully crossing the room to look over Rachel's shoulder at the photo she was focused on.
"That's my family," Shelby said quietly as she gazed down at the portrait, and Rachel's head spun to look up at her, apparently startled. "My folks, Janet and David, and my younger sister Julie."
She was in high school when that picture was taken. Her parents always cared about appearing perfect. It wasn't very hard for their two children to play along, except when Shelby's headstrongness and ambitions contradicted the Corcorans' ideals.
"So those are my grandparents?" Rachel whispered, touching the glass above the twenty-year-old image with her petite fingers.
"You shouldn't think of them like that," Shelby said darkly, and pulled the frame from Rachel's grasp and put it back on its shelf. Rachel looked embarrassed as though she had done something wrong, and Shelby heaved a sigh. "They're barely parents. To me, anyway. I don't think you realize how lucky you are, Rachel. I bet your dads have opened a million doors for you throughout your life and probably have some impressive savings account set aside so they can make sure you can go to whatever school you want, right?" Rachel became impassive, and Shelby suspected she hit the nail right on the head. "I worked hard so I could get scholarships, and throughout college I waitressed and picked up gigs as a wedding singer just so I could get by. Because they didn't think that anything related to music or acting was sensible, my entire life was spent trying to do what I loved and struggling not to piss them off while I was at it."
"It must have been hard to practice."
"You have no idea," Shelby told her, her tone conveying her bitterness. "I stayed at school every day as long as my teachers would let me, playing my instruments or voice training. Going home was the lowlight of my day. One reason why I wanted to make it as an actress was so I never had to come back here."
"Then why did you?"
Shelby drew together her brows, unable to admit the truth: she came back to Lima because she wanted to be near her illegitimate daughter, even if it meant always watching from a distance.
"I ran out of cash," she said instead. "After college it didn't matter much anyway: Mom and Dad took all of their money and retired up near Lake Michigan, where they are a half-an-hour's drive from my sister and her perfect, traditional family in Chicago."
"Do they even know I exist?" Rachel asked, her forehead wrinkled and her eyes wide as she looked up at the taller woman.
Shelby breathed in a deep, steady breath through her nose, and her eye twitched as she tried to formulate a good answer. There was no good answer. "When I was pregnant with you, I had decided that if they ever came to visit me during those months, I would tell them everything. We talked on the phone on my birthday and the big Hallmark occasions like Thanksgiving, but I never saw them. Around the holidays, when they came down to visit my grandmother in the nursing home she resided in, I saw them for maybe an hour when they stopped by to exchange gifts. If they noticed how different I looked considering it had only been a couple of weeks since I had given birth, they didn't say anything."
Shelby never wanted to be like her folks. She wanted the chance to shower her children with love and opportunities, but life didn't work out like that. And since Rachel already had more than she needed with her two doting fathers, there was no room for her. She had always hated the fact that she had to be the very things that she despised about her family – absent and numb – in order for her only child to be happy.
But she didn't want pity. She was a capable woman that never needed anyone's reassurance or support, and she was able to find solace knowing she could provide her students some of the many things she was never able to give to Rachel. Many of those kids were just like she was growing up.
Her throat tightened painfully when she finally confessed to Rachel, "The truth is, very few people know about you. It was easier for me that way."
And just like that, those small moments of laughter that they shared in the last couple of hours perished, and the excruciating tension of the day before permeated the space between them once again. The hurt that filled Rachel's face was subtle but Shelby didn't miss it. She knew then that no matter how much she tried justifying her divulgence, Rachel would believe that she was something to be ashamed of. She was so sick of continually disappointing her daughter but it didn't seem as though that was going to change.
She didn't know how it was possible, but for a couple of minutes she had managed to forget about that ridiculous dress that Rachel had on. It was best they concentrated on that now rather than their relationship; goodness knows Shelby wasn't exactly on a roll with that topic. She determined that for the rest of the evening they ought to focus on easy things, like show-choir costumes.
"Do you have something to change into?"
"No," Rachel said, and Shelby must have made a face because Rachel shrugged and looked away. "We all wore our outfits to school in a show of solidarity. One of our group members was dress-coded because she dressed in Gothic attire. Apparently wearing all black is Satanic at our school or something. It's ridiculous."
Shelby glanced down at her pant-suit, which certainly lacked color, and felt a surge of appreciation for her boss for not being that radical. Most of her entire wardrobe consisted of dark colors.
She had a thought. "What would you say about trying a different Lady Gaga outfit? I have an idea that will look fantastic and will help with your cause."
Rachel seemed intrigued and answered with a mischievous look, "What do you have in mind?"
Shelby grinned. "Something black."