Chapter 7
After the tire slashing incident, things fly by and suddenly, regionals are practically upon them. Schue brings them all to his miniscule apartment to lessen the blow of telling them that regionals are essentially do-or-die and not just for the Glee Club this year, but for its life. Everyone else just gives up—no one thinks that they can beat Vocal Adrenaline, and honestly, he doesn't think that they can either, but he thinks he's the only one that's straight up pissed about the developments. He feels like every time he actually puts a decent amount of work into something it ends up failing. It happened when he was a kid with his dad, it happened from the moment he started high school with football, it happened with Quinn and with Rachel (their ill-fated week long relationship earlier that year) and now it's happening with Glee Club. It's not like it's a secret that he likes and cares about Glee anymore so he goes ahead and speaks his mind, but it doesn't really seem to do anything to change anyone's mind. And when Finn speaks, he honestly does have a point.
If he weren't in Glee Club would he talk to all these losers? No, definitely not. Like, he hates Mercedes, she's just this diva who is really excellent on some songs but refuses to recognize her flaws like Rachel has, and he thinks Hummel's a pain in the ass. Obviously, Finn's always been his boy and he actually thinks their friendship is on the way back and he's known Rutherford and Chang from football. He and Santana go way back and he's always, always been cool with Quinn and Britt. But Rachel, who he's known his whole life, is totally different from what he always thought, and she totally doesn't get enough credit. He's realized that just because Artie can't walk doesn't mean he's not cool and isn't a great jam partner because he plays a mean electric guitar and he's the only person Puck's ever met that's anywhere near his match in encyclopedic knowledge of all genres and eras of music. And overall, Tina's just a pretty solidly cool chick, especially now that she doesn't stutter over every sentence anymore. But honestly, no, he would rarely interact with Mercedes or Kurt. After all, what the fuck would he talk to them about? Even now, with them all in Glee Club together, he rarely talks to them more than the requisite nod of acknowledgement in the hallways. But he figures since everyone else is being honest and writing the obituary of Glee then he's gonna be honest about what'll probably happen after it's over.
But anyway, that whole phase passes pretty quickly and it's only a week or so before they find themselves with a six-minute Journey medley to arm themselves against Aural Intensity and Vocal Adrenaline. It's obviously a given that Vocal Adrenaline will be prepared and fantastic, but he's pissed that Aural Intensity is doing a mash-up of Olivia Newton John and Josh Groban. Obviously someone wanted them to know who the judges were, and he'd put his money on a fellow judge that had been known to sabotage New Directions before and would be the direct recipient of any reallocated funds in the event that the Glee Club was discontinued. He knows that Rachel is right though; there is no point in worrying about what Aural Intensity is doing or did or did not know before the competition because they're here, they have their songs prepared and ready or not they're slated to go on in thirty short minutes.
They're literally no more than one minute from their music starting and it being show time when Finn catches Rachel's eye and starts walking toward her from where he's slated to enter the auditorium. He has this soft look in his eyes that she loves but can't let herself love too much because she has to sing in less than sixty seconds and she needs to concentrate.
When he whispers those three words to her, her heart should be swelling in her chest and soaring and they should be simultaneously making it hard for her to breathe and making her feel so happy, so completely that she feels like she's invincible. Instead, she notices that the top button of his dress shirt is undone and his tie is a little crooked and poorly knotted, making him look just a little too rumpled and casual for the occasion. He still looks good though, even if his shoulders don't fill out the shirt like that other boy's do, even if the fabric is stretched over his broad chest in quite the same way.
But she can't focus on either boy right now. She can't think about the way Finn looked at her fifteen seconds ago when he told her those words she's been longing to hear from for what feels like forever, she can't think about how Puck looks in his black dress shirt and how his gold tie brings out the subtle gold flecks in his eyes, and she certainly can't allow herself to remember how her right thigh and side, pressed flush against Puck, were on fire for the entire three hour drive home from Carmel a couple weeks before even though the windows were down because Finn was convinced that he was burning from the inside out. She couldn't think about any of those things because she had to sing a Journey medley with both boys, the one that she used to be in love with but is starting to believe she doesn't even know and the one who she's getting to know every day and thinks she could fall in love with.
The performance goes well. Finn isn't too sharp on anything and Rachel sounds as beautiful as ever, and he remembers all the words to his one line in each "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'" and "Don't Stop Believing," so he considers it an overall success. The excitement really starts just after the group has retreated to the green room when Judy Fabray shows up. He watches the exchange shamelessly because he feels like he has the right to for several reason, not the least of which is the fact that Quinn is 37 weeks pregnant (yes, he's keeping track) with his daughter. He sees Mrs. Fabray talking, but Quinn's back is to him, so he can't tell what she's saying or whether she's responding. Based on the frequency and rate at which Mrs. Fabray's mouth is moving, he's guessing that she's not letting Quinn say a whole lot in general.
When he hears the next words out of Quinn's mouth, he's convinced it some sort of fatherly sixth sense or instinct or something because she whispers them and it's obvious that no one else in the room hears because no one reacts or moves. He, on the other hand, stands up out of his chair so fast that it flies backwards and literally leaps over the coffee table between him and Quinn (why is there a coffee table in a green room anyway?) As soon as he's next to her, he's wrapping his arm around her waist and rubbing soothing circles over her baby bump with his other hand. She seems pretty calm, but he's not really sure how long that's going to last so he tightens his hold on her waist and starts to walk slowly, talking to her and Mrs. Fabray softly as he goes. "Which hospital is the closest? We gotta get you there, Q."
He thinks Mrs. Fabray is a pretty huge bitch for everything she did to her daughter after the pregnancy, but he's immediately grateful when she takes control of the situation, organizing the Gleeks onto the bus and ushering him and Quinn into the backseat of her car and taking them to the hospital. As he's ducking into Mrs. Fabray's car, he hears Schuester saying that someone needs to stay behind and be their representative at the competition. He thinks that sounds like it's a pretty damn good job for the director of the group, but he knows Schue's not gonna miss this shit. Instead, he hears Rachel volunteer. He knows, logically, that Rachel doesn't really like Quinn, and Quinn really, really doesn't like Rachel. Plus, the part of him that's always, always programmed to think about Rachel no matter how emotionally panicked he is knows that she probably needs to see Jesse and Vocal Adrenaline perform for some closure. If they lose to Vocal Adrenaline and she doesn't see it, he knows she'll never be able to accept defeat. Not to mention, she needs to be able to reassure herself that she doesn't Jesse or Shelby. So yeah, as much as he wishes he could have Rachel right outside the door while this is happening, it's ultimately about Quinn, so he keeps his mouth shut and runs his hands soothingly over Quinn's shoulders and back as Mrs. Fabray starts driving toward the hospital.
When they get there, he takes responsibility for getting Quinn out of the car and into a wheelchair and then for pushing that wheelchair as they follow a nurse back to the delivery room that's been prepared for Quinn, the only delay coming when they leave the Gleeks behind and Quinn stops the whole caravan and demands that Mercedes come with them. Puck had known that the two girls had become close since Quinn had moved in with Mercedes and he honestly doesn't give two shits who's in the delivery room, but he's starting to freak out and he thinks everything will feel a little bit better and more under control once Quinn's in a hospital gown and in a bed hooked up to all the right monitors after a nurse and doctor check her out, so he wants to get this process going. (In the back of his mind, he wonders when he became such a sucker for rules, but he doesn't really have time for the self-growth, introspective shit right now).
As the labor progresses from Quinn suffering through contractions as they wait for her be fully dilated (he knows his shit) to her actually having to push, he is again so fucking grateful that her bitchy mom is here with him and Mercedes and Quinn because he doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to be doing. Quinn immediately made it clear that he's only in the room because she thinks he has the right to see his daughter come into the world, not because she wants him there, so he's banished to somewhere near her feet, which, the view from there…ew. But yeah, he's a physical guy and he sucks at words so he's pretty much shit at calming people down when he can't touch them, you know, rub their back or smooth his hand over their hair (shut up, he's got a kid sister) and Mercedes isn't proving to be much better. Basically, Judy Fabray is a godsend in this situation. She has experience in this particular arena that neither he nor Mercedes has, having given birth to two daughters in her lifetime, and so she's keeping Quinn relatively sane. She does keep chanting "You suck! You suck! You suck!" at him, but he knows that she's in a lot of pain, so she just ignores that and just watches his baby's head crown with a seemingly impossible combination of absolute disgust and total awe pulsing through his veins. He knows he looks like a total pussy but this is seriously the most amazing thing he's ever seen (while simultaneously making his stomach churn and making him lightheaded to the point at which he thinks he might pass out).
The whole giving birth process is actually totally disgusting, and he just knows next time he's about to go down on a girl (he wonders why in his head it's not same faceless chick, but rather Rachel) or something, his mind's gonna flash back to his moment, and he wonders if he'll be able to. That's how gross this is. But then, he hears the nurse say that the baby's head is crowning and only a few pushes later, there's his baby girl. She's covered in this disgusting goopy shit and is purply-red and is screaming so loud that his ears hurt (he'll never call Rachel loud again because she's got nothing on his baby girl) and her mouth looks like it's bigger than her entire head, but she is so beautiful and in that moment he knows what love is. This love he feels for Beth is so all-encompassing that he knows, without a trace of doubt in his mind, that he loves Quinn in that moment too, because this tiny, little, beautiful girl is half-her and half-him and Quinn carried her and kept her safe for nine months and brought her into this world. And someone who helped create this miracle of a newborn, well, he doesn't know how not to love that person.
After the clean her up and swaddle her in a blanket, the nurse brings the baby to Quinn, and he can see immediately that Quinn falls in love with the little girl as much as he already has the second the nurse places Beth in her arms. And it's literally impossible for him to get the soft, sappy expression off his face, and he knows he'll forever be connected to Quinn and to an extent, Mercedes, because she just witnessed him at his most vulnerable. But this moment is so much bigger, so much more important than the overall effect of his reputation, especially in front of the woman who gave him this miracle, and in front of a girl who's part of a club that doubles as a family. But yeah, he pretty much wants to be in this room with this tiny baby girl forever if it means he doesn't have to give her up, which he knows Quinn is going to want to do. For now, he settles for smiling warmly at Quinn when she passes his daughter to him and not even caring that he cries openly when their not-even hour old daughter opens her eyes and looks right at him.
About fifteen minutes after Vocal Adrenaline finishes their flawless performance of "Bohemian Rhapsody," Rachel sets off in search of Shelby. She's not really sure why, but she knows she wants to give her one final chance before she closes her out of her life completely. She's not entirely sure why she expected this interaction to go any more smoothly than any of her previous exchanges with her birth mother, but she does consider her undying optimism and faith in other people one of her better traits.
The fact that her mother does not greet her warmly or even as enthusiastically as Rachel has seen the same woman greet some members of her show choir should be the first tip off about how the conversation is likely to proceed, but instead she attributes it to post-performance distraction and forges bravely ahead.
However, as far as she's concerned, the conversation is an absolute train wreck from that point forward. She says exactly what she had planned to say, but she can tell immediately that Shelby isn't receptive to her words. (She's a lot better at reading people than she's given credit for because she often ignores social cues in the name of honestly, particularly in critiquing others). She isn't delusional, so she didn't actually think she would be able to convince Shelby to relinquish her position as the Sue Sylvester of Glee Club coaches (minus the penchant for unprovoked and completely inappropriate cruelty) to co-direct a fledgling club at a rival school, but she did think she might be able to make some in-roads into the life of her mother, so Shelby's rejection stings immensely.
Her flimsy excuses about missing Rachel's formative years fall on deaf ears. Not only does she firmly believe that a girl can always, always use a mother, she also carefully chose the words of the speech she just gave Shelby. Consequently, she just as firmly believes that she does have a lot to learn from her birth mother, and not just about singing. Shelby could be an invaluable resource to her about life, about being a teenage girl with big dreams living in a small town, about maturing into an adult woman. Her chest literally constricts, and she can feel her heart breaking when Shelby rejects her and essentially says that Rachel doesn't fit the life plan that she has plotted for herself, and even more so with the realization that not only does she not fit in the plan but that Shelby is too rigid to bend her plan even enough to have a little bit of contact with the girl she brought into the world.
The feeling gets worse when she realizes that there's only one person that she's ever known who can make this feeling lessen and he just recently watched his daughter come into the world, and at that moment, knowing that Noah is preoccupied with the most significant occurrence in his life to date and that Shelby doesn't want her, she's never felt so lonely in her life.
And if there's one single emotion that Rachel Berry is used to, it is, without a doubt, loneliness. She never had a real friend until her friendship with Noah blossomed just recently, she has no cousins her age and no matter how loving and supportive and generally wonderful her fathers are, a girl needs friends and people her own age or she's going to be lonely. But this moment tops them all. Suddenly, she needs to get out of that room as fast as she can without tipping off Shelby to just how hurt she is. She's never let anyone see how much the slushies hurt her and Shelby Corcoran will certainly never know that she crushed Rachel Berry's heart. So she stands tall and answers truthfully when Shelby asks where the rest of New Directions is. She think she's going to throw up telling Shelby about Beth's entrance into the world, but even in her state, she can appreciate her own flair for the dramatic when she tells Shelby that Quinn gave birth to a "beautiful baby girl" before turning her back and walking out of the room.
After Puck announces Beth's birth time and statistics to his gathered Glee Club teammates and coach, they head back hoping to catch the announcement of the results, and he can't be bothered to care a little bit. He's happy that they all at least know him well enough to not even bother asking him if he wants to come because there's nothing he wants less than to leave this little baby girl before he and Quinn are handing her over to her still unchosen adoptive parents. This little girl has literally changed his life in the few hours that she's been in the world, and he knows the moment that he hands her over to her parents is going to replace the moment he realized his dad was never coming back as the worst moment in his life. So yeah, he doesn't want to miss a moment with this perfect little human being.
When Shelby shows up, he's pissed for a couple reasons. First, because he doesn't want anyone except Quinn interrupt his precious and limited hours with his daughter (and that's only because Beth is Quinn's daughter, too) and second because he's sick of Shelby swooping in and fucking with people's lives. Despite how he knows Quinn feels about Rachel, he's proud to see her mama bear streak come out. After how badly he knows that Shelby messed up Rachel, he doesn't want her breathing the same air as his daughter. Unfortunately, that's not exactly how things develop.
Shelby is extremely kind to him and Quinn and about Beth, and he has to admit his demeanor toward her softens a bit when she compliments his choice of the name Beth and doesn't point out that they don't really have a right to pick a name since she's being put up for adoption. She asks them about Beth's time of birth and all her statistics and compliments Quinn on being up and on her feet and how good she already looks and before he knows the three of them have been standing outside the nursery talking and looking at Beth for two hours. He has no doubt that they would have stayed for much, much longer because conversation was just flowing, but Quinn says that she's exhausted and obviously he gets it. She pushed a baby out of her area (all of the words he usually employs to describe that particular part of the female anatomy seem wholly inappropriate when talking about his daughter's birth). So he and Quinn head back to her hospital room and Shelby departs after they all exchange numbers, even though he has no idea why. Quinn, on the other hand, seems to have some sort of creepy woman/mother telepathic connection with Shelby because the next words out of her mouth are "I want Shelby to adopt her, and I know she wants to." He's interrupted before he can respond.
He knows Rachel would have some fancy fatalistic word for what happens next. Just as Quinn tells him that she wants to let Shelby adopt Beth, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a text from Berry: we lost. I'll never forget our short time as friends. You'll always have a spot in my heart, noah. He flies off the handle, storming out and texting Rachel without a word to Quinn. Don't say that shit. Callin u.
As Rachel's phone rings once, twice, a third time, he realizes that his stomach is churning unpleasantly. He assumes that it's attributable to finding a woman that Quinn has deemed suitable for adoption making the inevitably much more real as well as Rachel's assumption that their friendship will end with Glee Club.
"Hello?"
"Berry, it's me."
"Yes, Noah? I'm afraid we're still at regionals, so it's rather loud. I'm not sure that I'll be able to hear you well enough for us to have a productive conversation."
"Fuck that shit." People sitting in the lobby of the maternity wing are giving him appalled looks, but he has several issues on his mind that are a bit more important to him than the delicate sensibilities of the people waiting around for their loved ones to have babies. He thinks he might be losing his best friend and he knows in just a matter of days his daughter will be gone forever. "Find a supply closet or a girls' bathroom or someone's car. I don't give a shit where you go but I gotta talk to you."
"Whatever could possibly be so important that you need to talk to me at this very moment in time?"
"I don't want you getting the wrong fuckin' idea. Now find somewhere quiet so I can fuckin' talk to you because we're only havin' this conversation once and I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. Clear?"
"Yes, Noah, it's clear." He can hear the amusement in her voice, and despite the fact that she's clearly laughing at him, he finds that the light lilt in her voice significantly lifts his spirits. "I've found an empty single stall women's room. Now would you care to explain what's got you so worked up?"
"Yep. That fuckin' text you just sent me. I—" he can't finish his thought, though, because Rachel interrupts him once again.
"I know, Noah, I know. I'm exceptionally upset by our loss at regionals, as well. I thought we would at least surpass Aural Intensity, but alas, we were dead last. I can only hope that Principal Figgins can find it in his heart to give us another year, perhaps—"
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, let me talk, Berry. I don't give a shit about where we placed at regionals. I'm talkin' about you fuckin' terminating our friendship or whatever shit you would call it."
"I'm sorry, Noah, I'm afraid I don't understand. I was under the impression after the gathering at Mr. Schuester's house that you were not willing to continue any Glee Club friendships with non-athletes or Cheerios, in the even that we lost at regionals."
"Dude, Berry, at Schue's I was talking about Mercedes and fuckin' Kurt. Not you. You're my Jewish-American Princess, not to mention, my best friend. Christ, Berry."
"I'm sorry for my assumption, Noah. I suppose I should have spoken with you first. I must have misunderstood you at the Glee gathering. I'm just not quite sure why you are so quick to drop Mercedes and Kurt but willing to keep me and Tina and Artie as friends."
"You're gonna have to work a lot harder than that to get rid of me, Berry. Artie's my boy and Tina's a cool enough girl—it's not like I'm gonna be best friends with or anything, and Mercedes and Kurt are fine too, but what the hell would I ever talk to them about?"
"If we don't have Glee what do you have to talk to me about, Noah?"
He gives her his word answer because it's simple but undeniably true. "Everything."
It renders her speechless and ends the conversation there.
When he hangs up with Rachel, he drags his feet slowly up the stairs, torn between his desire to spend every possible moment with Beth and his total lack of desire to discuss adoption options with Quinn, particularly the option of Shelby Corcoran. He knows he has to talk about all this shit with her eventually anyway so his desire to be with Beth wins out, and he's stoked when he gets back to the room and sees his little girl in Quinn's arms.
"Gimme," he holds his arms out for Quinn to deposit Beth, and she doesn't protest, just smiles indulgently and hands over the baby. She's actually pretty much been a champ since the moment Beth was born, and she's certainly let him hold and care for Beth as much as he wants, and he knows he's been hogging her a little bit but he needs this little girl in his life as much as possible for as long as possible. And all the adoption talk and the losing regionals talk is a little bit easier to stomach when his daughter is cuddled into his chest.
"We lost," he tells Quinn, but his eyes are focused on Beth's perfect face.
"I know," she holds up her phone, "Brit texted me."
"Glee's gonna be over."
"I know. High school can just go back to normal though."
Fuck that, he thinks, but he doesn't want to corrupt this perfect, innocent baby so instead he looks up at Quinn. "D'you think you can just go back to normal?"
"I'm going to try as hard as I can. I want to pretend that this never happened. You, Beth, Glee, losing the Cheerios. I just want to start over."
For one of the only times in his life, he admits to himself that he's hurt. He's hurt for himself that Quinn wants to completely forget him and he's hurt for Beth that her biological mother is planning on going on with her life pretending that her daughter doesn't exist. He's seen how that shit fucked Rachel up and he doesn't want it for his own daughter. All he wants is for his daughter to be loved completely and always by everyone in her life and if Quinn can't give that to her (which he realizes now she can't), then he knows that they have to give her up. And for the first time, he's at peace with the idea. (He can still hate it, though. He reserves the right to always hate it).
They've got to get this show on the road, though. He cannot take Beth home for even a night or he knows he won't be able to give her up ever, so he looks up from his daughter and meets Quinn's eyes and they both know that they're thinking the same thing. They've got to figure this out.
She's the one that's strong enough or determined enough to actually broach the subject after several minutes of silence other than Beth's quiet sounds. "Puck, I think that we should let Shelby adopt her. She called while you were outside."
"She's Rachel's mom."
"She's Rachel's biological mother, yes. I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"She gave up Rachel and then came back looking for her then walked out again. I don't want her to hurt Beth."
"Puck," Quinn rolls her eyes. "Her name is not Beth; we're giving her up—we don't get to name her. And Shelby wants a family; she feels like she's too late with Rachel."
"She's not," he mutters under his breath, but he feels loyal to Rachel and he doesn't want to air her problems to Quinn. "At least let me call Rachel and talk to her first."
"It's not her business, Puck. This little girl is mine and yours, and her future is our decision, not ours and Berry's."
"You're right, but it's courteous to at least let her know what's happening so she's not completely blindsided."
"Since when are you courteous?"
Puck gently rests his daughter in the bassinet provided by the hospital and starts to pace across the room. "I just don't want to do this without telling Rachel first. I don't get why it's such a big deal to you."
"It's just not her business, Puck. She makes everything her business anyway. Why should we enable it and ask her permission about who we pick for Beth? It should be about who we think will give Beth the best future."
"Jesus, Quinn, I'm not saying we should ask her permission. I just think that it would be nice of us to give her a heads up."
"It's not her fucking business, Puck."
He runs a hand over his closely shaved and down his face before looking Quinn square in the eye. "Q, you need my signature to let her adopt Beth, and I'm not signing that paper until I've talked to Rachel. I'm sorry, but I'm not changing my mind."
"Oh, come on, Puck, it's just manhands."
He scrubs a hand over his face. "Don't call her that. Her name is Rachel, and she doesn't deserve how cruel we've been to her."
"You started it."
"Well, then, I'm ending it. And I'm starting by talking to her before we give our kid to her mother."
"Puck," she sighs. "Why do you care so much?"
"Why can't you just fucking accept that I'm doing this one thing my way, Quinn? I've cooperated with everything you wanted to do, but I'm not doing this to Rachel without a head's up first."
She rolls her eyes and it sets him off. "Look, I know what it feels like to think your parent doesn't want you, and I know that Rachel feels like her mom doesn't love her or want her, so I'm at least going to make sure she hears right away that her mom has a new family, okay? She's going to feel replaced, and it'll hurt at least a little less if she doesn't hear from her mother."
Five minutes later, he's leaning against the brick wall of the hospital right next to the door closest to the maternity wing. Unlike his previous phone call to Rachel, he doesn't want to make this one with an audience of families waiting for their newest member. It seems too public and wholly inappropriate. It's unseasonably cold, but he isn't wearing a jacket. He's palming his phone, but he doesn't want to dial that number. He doesn't want to be the one to break the news to Rachel, but he knows she deserves to hear it—moreover she deserves to hear it kindly from someone who is on her side.
It takes him another five minutes to select her name from his contacts list and press send, initiating a call that he knows will break both their hearts. "Noah!" she answers brightly. "This is a surprise! Twice in one night? I must say, I thought you would be preoccupied with your daughter, everyone told me that she's gorgeous."
"Most people just say hello," he grumbles in response.
"I'm not most people," she reminds him cheerily. "May I ask why you called?"
"I have to tell you something. I don't want this to happen and I really don't want to the be the one to tell you, but I think you deserve to know, and to find out from someone who's completely on your side."
Her voice is flat and monotone, and all the cheeriness of just a few seconds previously is gone when she replies. "Shelby's going to adopt Beth, isn't she?"
He's flabbergasted. "Wait, what? How did you know? Quinn hasn't even given Shelby an answer yet."
"I saw her today. She gave me this whole long speech about how she missed her opportunity in my life and she wants a family. And I told her that I still have so much to learn from her, but she said I don't need her anymore, but I do, Noah, I need her so badly."
"I know, baby, I know," he lets his voice take on the soothing tone that always calms Eliza because he can't pull Rachel into his arms so he'll have to go with the next best option. "I'm so sorry to be telling you this. I'm so sorry."
"Don't be ridiculous, Noah. This isn't your fault. I know you were the one who insisted on calling me and I appreciate it, and I know how much you would have preferred to keep Beth. It's an admirable decision you're making and I do believe that Shelby will be a fantastic mother to Beth. Despite her inability to understand me, I do think she's a rather phenomenal person, and I don't doubt that she'll be committed to raising Beth to be a good girl with ambition and goals."
"Thanks, Rachel. You're great, you know that?"
He can hear the smirk in her voice when she responds. "I know that. It's a damn shame that no one else does."
Chuckling, he tells her to hang in, call if she needs anything and that he'll call her the second everything goes through with Beth and he's back in Lima. Then, he hangs his head low and trudges back into the hospital to sign his daughter away to replace his best friend in Shelby Corcoran's life.
