Rachel sat, stunned.
She had finished reading the letters – both letters—from each of her respective fathers.
She was so overwhelmed, she didn't know what to do. So, she sat, for what seemed like an hour, until the phone rang, breaking her out of her catatonic state.
Zombie-like, she answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Rachey-Rach!"
"Brittany?"
"Well, yes, of course!"
"What are you doing, B?" Rachel, despite herself, felt a warm smile cross her face, an irrepressible phenonomia that occurred when talking to one Ms. Brittany M. Pierce.
"Shhhh- secret stuff. I had to do some special consulting at my "old job" and so I'm in a silo somewhere. But I stepped out of the command center for a bit to pee and to call you."
"Why? I mean, great, but…well."
Brittany laughed, warmly. "I know, I know…weird, huh? The fate of the free world hangs in the balance, and I'm calling you, instead."
She giggled.
Rachel said nervously, "well, don't you think you should get back to work, then? I don't want to lose Maine or California or something because we were chatting."
"Oh, no worries, I have at least 17 more minutes. Besides, the ghost of Lord Tubbington came to me and told me to call you. He said you were really distressed and needed some figuring out of something. Are you trying to do math again, Rachel?"
Rachel laughed. "No, nothing like that. Tell Lord T thanks, I guess. I did get some kind of disturbing news, actually."
"I figured. Keep going. And don't call him Lord T. He prefers correct nomenclature."
"Oh, okay." Rachel cleared her throat. "I got some kind of ….weird news, really."
"About your dance teacher and San doing the nasty, salt-n-peppa grind-down lady lovin'?"
"Oh my fucking God, no. But thank you for that …. horrid visual."
"Actually, its not bad. They skyped me."
Rachel covered her eyes.
"You're covering your eyes, aren't you, Rachey?"
"Yes."
"Look, I only have 14 more minutes. Get on with it."
"Well, what if everything you thought you knew about your world, suddenly was….all wrong? What if the things you believed were generated from… a false premise?"
"That happens every day, to me, Rachey. The world is a very unpredictable place, if you actually pay attention."
Rachel sighed. "I guess I don't."
"No, you don't. I love you like a sister…a much shorter, Jewish, and more talkative sister, so don't take this the wrong way. You get very convicted of things, once you set your mind to it."
"I know I do."
"And if you have already made your mind up, well, then you've colored your lens."
"What?"
"Colored your lens. Like, if you think the world is going to be blue that day, because you read it in your horoscope that morning, well, you've painted your glasses blue, and you're going to see everything as blue….blue sky, blue birds, blue Quinn…you catch my drift? " She paused. "And then you say, well, I guess that morning horoscope was right. The world was blue today."
"So what do I do?"
"Well, you can't recreate that day, that particular day is …gone. As I keep telling people here, you can't make up data or re-create data—that's lying. But, the only thing you can do is to start over, and look at it from a fresh perspective. Make sure your lenses are clear, or better yet, no lenses at all, since you don't wear glasses—and I think that would make things really blurry if you wore them and you don't need them."
Rachel chuckled.
"And then, Rach? You know what you do? You really, really look."
After a moment, Rachel said, "Thank you. Really."
"It's nothing. Oh good! 7 minutes left. Good thing I already figured this out. They're probably pissing their pants in there, so I should get back. I love you, Rachey-Rach."
"I love you too, B"
"Bye! You'll figure it out."
XOXOXO
Rachel pounded on the door.
"Open up! I know you're in there, Quinn. Stop hiding from me!"
Finally she opened the door, a crack.
"God damn it, Berry! Are you trying to get the neighbors to call the police? You're lucky my parents are gone or they would have called themselves!"
"I know. I was supposed to spend the weekend with you, remember?"
Quinn shrugged.
"I don't believe this -you blow me off for a week, and now, this?" Rachel said, pissed.
Quinn sighed, and gave off a tone of bored indifference. "What do you want, Berry? I'm busy. My friends are coming over, soon."
Rachel willed the tears in her eyes to stop, so she could get through this.
"What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?"
"Are you going to let me in, Quinn."
"No."
"No?" Rachel said, indignantly.
Quinn laughed, a cruel laugh. "You didn't think this was really going to last, did you?"
Rachel's mouth, dropped.
"Later, dwarf. Do me a favor, and be gone before they get here, and I have 'splaining to do to them as to why you're here."
She slammed the door.
Stunned, Rachel backed away from the door. After a minute, she turned and ran to her car, crying as she drove away from Quinn Fabray and back to her life…
She missed hearing the racking sobs coming from the other side of the door.
XOXOXO
I seem to always find myself at Quinn Fabray's door, don't I? Rachel thought, to herself.
With a grimace, she knocked on the door.
Slowly, it opened, and a face peered around it. The face lit up like Chirstmas in July.
"Princess Gwen!"
Rachel grinned. "Shh! I thought we went over this! It's 'Rachel' out in public, remember?"
"Oh, yeah….Rachel. Hmm. I like Princess Gwen, better."
"Well you call me that then. But only when its us, kay?"
"Okay."
He sat there, staring at her happily.
"Um, Freddy?"
"Yes, Princess Gwen?"
"May I come in?"
"Oh!" He turned bright red. "Of course. Come in…"
Rachel walked in.
A voice from another room called out, "Freddie! Is that someone at the door?"
"Yes, Mom!" He responded, happily. "It's just my girlfriend! She came over for a playdate!"
"What?" The voice replied.
TBC
