Wow, I'm feeling the love! Listing story alerts has become impractical, but thank you all! Thanks to Calli Wall, lizzybennettdarcy, greekfan14 and gleek30 for commenting on my story and/or naming me a favorite author. I'm honored.
A bellboy pushed our bags into the room on a brass cart, just like in the movies. He walked around the room, turning on lights and opening doors. Rachel peeked in one room with a queen sized bed. "This one's yours," she said, and the bellhop put my suitcase on a stand inside. Then she frowned when he carried the rest of the bags into the other bedroom, which also had one queen bed. "This was supposed to be two full beds. Did you do this, Puckerman?"
Noah laughed. "No way, Rachel. What am I, 18? If I wanted to get you in bed I'd just…"
She instantly clamped her hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. Then she yanked her hand away, grimacing in horror. "Ew, you licked me? Yes, Noah Puckerman, I think you are 18. No, wait, that's an insult to 18-year-olds. You're twelve."
"Ahem…is there a problem? Do you want me to contact the manager?" The bellhop asked. "Unfortunately, we might have trouble finding you a different suite. There's a convention in the hotel."
"No, it's fine, as long as our bill is adjusted accordingly." She got some cash out of her purse and tipped him.
Confession: I'm the one who got the room switched. I dashed straight in from the cab while Noah and Rachel were still unloading. "Bathroom emergency," I exclaimed and made a beeline for the front desk.
"I'm staying in Rachel Berry's suite," I said to the well-coiffed brunette woman behind the counter. "She's my dad's best friend, and they're in love but they're totally clueless. Please, please, please put them in a room with one bed."
"You're trying to hook up your dad? What is this, The Parent Trap?"
"Oh, I love that movie! Well, the Haley Mills version. Mom never let me watch the Lindsay Lohan one. She said it made her too sad. Look, just watch them together for thirty seconds. If you're not convinced that I'm right, fine. And if they really don't want to share I bed, then we'll call down for a hideaway. But they wont ask for one! They'll be all, 'Oh, no! Now we have to sleep together. Nothing we can do about it. Nope. Can't think of a SINGLE ALTERNATIVE.'"
The lady behind the desk said, "Sorry, can't help you. That would be against hotel policy." But then she winked. She must have realized, in the 30 seconds we were checking in, that my assessment was spot-on and switched the rooms. God bless her!
I got the idea from Megan. Megan loves romance, whether in books, movies, TV shows or real life. When I asked her how she'd get Noah and Rachel together, she got out a pad and paper and started listing contrivances used in fiction to get couples together.
"The couple gets drunk, they get trapped together in a confined space, one or both is in danger, one person gets really ill, jealousy, unexpectedly watching a kid together—you've already got that one covered. And…sleeping together."
"I'm trying to get them to sleep together."
"No, I mean literally sleeping. It's used all the time in books, movies and TV shows. Two people fall asleep on the same couch or bed. They get all snuggly in the night, and then they realize either how attracted to the other person they are or how safe and comfortable they feel with them or both."
"Well, it's less date-rapey than the get-them-drunk method. I'm not going to endanger anyone. Making someone jealous usually leads to a lot of fighting. Also, they told me about some relationship messes they had in high school. Not the way to go."
So I went with the bed thing, which was perfect for our trip, anyway. And was I right or was I right? Even the bellhop left, Rachel suggested I go unpack, and she went to unpack, too. She didn't suggest that she and I should share a bed or that Noah should take the couch. I went into my room but didn't unpack. I've never understood unpacking in hotels. I mean, my suitcase holds my clothes just fine, and I don't have to worry about leaving stuff in the drawers. Instead I closed my door and called Megan.
"So? How's the plan going?"
"Perfectly. Although I gotta say, I think something was already going on with those two. They were actually touching less than usual, but the looks they were giving each other were…"
"Eye sex. Bio-dad and your fairy-godmother were totally having eye sex. Oh, this is perfect."
"Thanks for your help."
"My pleasure. So, you nervous?"
"No."
"Liar. What are you going to wear?"
"I have no idea. What do you wear to meet your bio-mom?"
I picked up a white sundress, a yellow cardigan and a pair of white wedges I'd borrowed from my Mom. It wasn't very me, but I'd picked it out because it was pretty and perfect like Quinn seemed in my mind. I put it on, then styled my hair in soft curls.
There was a knock at my door. "Almost ready?"
I stepped out.
"Whoa," Noah said.
"That bad?"
"No, it's just…you look like Quinn." He was kind of squinting at me, his full lips pursed. "It's…it's kind of weird, because you don't usually look that much like Quinn. I mean, Quinn's pretty. You're pretty. It's just, usually you look like you."
"I don't understand."
"I think," Rachel ventured, "Noah is trying to say that you look lovely, but that this outfit doesn't reflect what we've seen of your personal style. Are you experimenting with a preppier look?"
"I just want her to like me," I said.
"Yeah, you." Noah said.
"I've got an idea," Rachel said. "What if you switched the heels for your black flats, and switched out this cardigan for your fitted black hoodie. Then do your normal smudging technique for a softly smoky eye. You'll look lovely, but still like you."
I nodded.
"Besides, Quinn went through a tough-chick phase."
"Really?"
"Yes, but she didn't carry it off half as well as you do. For you it's real. For her it was a protective façade."
I thought about that as I switched shoes and slid on my hoodie. Already I felt more relaxed. I gently smudged my eyeliner, then I threw on red earrings for good measure. Then Rachel grabbed some hair product and quickly pulled it through my hair, her hands deftly working until it looked natural with a hint of edge.
"How do you know how to do that?"
"Oh, when you're just starting out in theater, you often have to do your own hair, makeup and costuming. Getting those elements right helps you get the character right. That's why, pretty as you looked, I couldn't take you to see Quinn and Finn dressed that way. You would have felt out-of-sorts all night."
"Oh, good. Drizzle's back," Noah said from the door. "Nice work, Berry. C'mon, kid. Let's get this over with."
"Honey? Ellen."
"What?" Quinn asked and stopped straightening the silverware for the third time. "Ellen" was their code word for moments when Quinn started acting too much like her mother—caring more about appearances than what was actually happening. "I'm sorry, I'm just…what it this is a terrible mistake? What if she hates me?"
Finn hugged her. "Look, I promise she won't care about the place setting, okay? She'll care whether you're nice. So don't go to the Ellen Fabray place. Or, God forbid, the Jim Fabray place. You're Quinn Fabray-Hudson. You're warm and friendly. No shell."
"No shell." Quinn had actually gotten some therapy in college that helped her work through some of her issues regarding her parents and Drizzle. It had helped her become happier and more open, but when stressed Quinn would occasionally revert to her mother's strategies of perfect appearances-although unlike Ellen, Quinn didn't resort to constant drinking. "I can do this. I can do this."
"You'll be great. She'll love you."
I was standing with Noah and Rachel on my bio-mom's doorstep. We'd rung the doorbell. I couldn't hold still.
"Drizzle, you're bouncing," Rachel said.
"Uh-huh." I said, still bouncing on my toes.
"C'mere," Noah said, and pulled me into a hug so fast I nearly fell over. I giggled, and the door swung open.
"Puck? Drizzle!"
I looked up, and there she was: my bio-mom. She wore a yellow sundress, and her hair was perfectly curled. Her hazel eyes looked teary, but she gave me a big, nervous smile. "Hi, I'm Quinn." She tentatively opened her arms. I let go of Noah and gave her a hug. Then a buzzer went off and she let go. "Oh, my pie! Come in, of course. Rachel, hi! Come in, I just don't want this to burn," she exclaimed, running off to the kitchen.
"Who was that, and what did she do with Quinn?" Noah asked.
"Noah, stop. She's just grown and matured, and…FINN!"
She launched herself across the room at a very tall man who swooped her up and twirled her around: "RACH!"
"Seriously?" I asked my bio-dad.
"Pretty much," he replied, shrugging.
"And no one minds?"
Rachel was kind of dangling from Finn's neck, and they were giving each other big, cheesy smiles.
"Not really," Quinn said as she walked into the room and set a lattice-top pie down on a trivet. "Honey, you leaving me for Crazy Berry?"
The tall man frowned at his wife, confused. "What?" He lowered Rachel back to the floor.
"See? They're fine. They got all that out of their system a long time ago. Unlike some people," Quinn said, raising her eyebrows at Noah, then flicking her eyes over to Rachel and back.
"Seriously, who are you? Where is my Q?" Noah asked. She just gave him a bitchy smirk, pivoted and walked away. "Oh, there she is."
Dinner was delicious. Quinn and Finn asked me questions about my parents and school, my hobbies and my college plans. We told them the story of how I first met Rachel and Noah. They all caught each other up about work and their families. It was kind of weird to think that my Grandma lives so close to my bio-grandparents. I even have a bio-great-grandma who Noah calls Nana.
"'Nana,' Puck? You call your grandmother Nana?"
"What do you call yours, Q? Grandmother Fabray?"
"Mom's mom is Grandma Fay. My father's mom still thinks I'm a harlot, so I don't call her anything."
"Because of me?" I squeaked.
"No," Quinn said, "Because of her. She's hateful. She calls herself a Christian, but she ignores 'Judge not lest ye be judged,' the Golden Rule, and that love is what's most important. So, um…do you have any questions for me?" She shifted in her seat, and suddenly her posture became stiff and formal.
"Not really. Um, what's your favorite band?"
She laughed, but the laughter turned into tears. I didn't know what to do. Finn just got up, grabbed a box of tissues, then handed it to Quinn and stood by her, one hand on her shoulder. She reached up a hand to hold his. "You don't want to know why I…why we…"
"Gave me up?" I asked. She nodded. "No. I mean, I'm seventeen. If I got pregnant now, I wouldn't raise the baby. I mean, maybe if I was in love with the dad and we wanted to get married or whatever, but you guys weren't in love, so…actually, I think it's awesome that you had me at all. You didn't have to. That must have been really hard. Was it embarrassing?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Sometimes."
"Noah told me what your dad did. I'm so sorry," I said. A tear slid down my cheek.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Drizzle. You know that, right? Nothing was your fault. Puck and I made choices. "
"No, I know. I know that. Thanks for picking my mom and dad."
"I'm glad we chose the right people," Quinn said. "You're really not mad at me?" Perfect tears slid down her perfect face.
"No. I was afraid you wouldn't want me around now, but I always knew you didn't give me up because you didn't care. You did it because you loved me, and you wanted the best for all of us."
"You did?"
"Yeah. I read the letters. I saw the video." I suddenly wanted to sing, and the thought was embarrassing, but words alone couldn't tell my birth mother what this song could. I decided, screw it, and sang, "Who knows how long I've loved you? You know I love you still. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to, I will. For if I ever saw you, I didn't catch your name. But it never really mattered. I will always feel the same. Love you forever and forever. Love you with all my heart. Love you whenever we're together. Love you when we're apart. And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air. Sing it loud so I can hear you. Make it easy to be near you, for the things you do endear you to me. Oh, you know, I will. I will."
Comments, pretty please!
