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Quartie anyone?


Chapter 9

Quinn leaned her head out of the open car door to let the brisk Midwestern wind cool her face. It had been so long since she had been outside that she wanted to savor every moment. She swung her legs out of the car and onto the ground, tapping the heels of her shoes on the dark pavement relishing the sound. They were sensible shoes. Black patent leather square toe pumps with two-inch heels purchased specifically for this day. Santana had taken it upon herself to plan every detail of Quinn's outfit for court. A gray tweed dress with a high scoop neck, because cleavage had no place in a case about a baby, and a basic pink cardigan. Quinn wore no jewelry but her simple small diamond studs. She didn't want to look like a self-entitled diva Santana had said.

Image was everything now that the case was national news. It is amazing how the whole world cares when a baby with money is hurt. Quinn bet if Beth's father had been a backup dancer or a bartender her problems would have received far less scrutiny. As it was now Quinn's face was plastered all over newspapers and television programs across the country. Nancy Grace had even done a piece on her. If the media had the power to decide her fate, Quinn would be buried under the jail.

"We better get inside before they catch on we're back here," said Artie as he appeared in front of the passenger side door. Quinn stood up and moved out of his way so that he could close the door to his navy blue Camry behind her.

It had been a strange ride from the hospital to the courthouse. Alone in a car with a man she barely knew made Quinn a little nervous. He must have felt awkward as well, since he didn't say much to her, just turned on the radio and let it play. Talk radio was the white noise of their trip. She tried to focus on the scenery as they drove to the center of town. The frost covered lawns, the groups of children waiting for the school bus, street after street of pastel colored houses. Quinn smiled to herself as they passed a house with Christmas lights still up and a wreath on the door, a subtle reminder that the holiday season had just ended and not everyone was ready to let go of that spirit. She was glad they chose to linger, she had missed the holidays this year, stuck inside the hospital, and she felt like this one little house saved a bit of Christmas for her to see.

Artie fumbled in his pocket searching for the keys to the backdoor of the courthouse. Quinn enjoyed the warm sun on her face as she waited, tilting her head slightly toward the sky, reaching for more of those golden rays. It was a typical late January day in Lima. Cold, windy, but the skies were perfectly clear and the sun was bright. Only good things could happen on a day so beautiful. Quinn tried to hang onto that feeling as Artie held the door open for her and they finally stepped inside.

"So court starts at 10am why we are here almost two hours early?"

"I thought you might like some time outside of the hospital. It has been awhile since you were out right?" They walked up a long flight of stairs as they chatted. It wasn't well lit and it seemed isolated.

"Almost a month." It was exactly twenty-eight days since she had been placed in the Lima University hospital. She kept a small piece of paper taped to the side of her bed, a short line in blue ink for every day that passed. Quinn prayed she wouldn't get to thirty.

"I wanted to take you out for a nice breakfast."

They emerged from the stairwell into a brightly lit corridor lined with doors. Burgundy and green carpet covered the floors. It was colorful probably to hide any spills or stains, but plush, her shoes were sadly silent on the floor as she walked.

"At this point an Egg McMuffin would be gourmet fare. I never knew gruel was actually a real dish until the psych ward," said Quinn. Artie looked down over at her and laughed.

It felt like it was the first time he actually looked at her all morning, or maybe it was just the first time she had really looked at him. His eyes were an intense blue, large and bright, the focal point of his entire face and they crinkled around the edges as he laughed. His dark brown hair was swept back off his face, neat and trim, with only a hint of a curl fighting to break free.

"We could have hit the drive thru but I was thinking you might enjoy something a bit more relaxing." It startled her as he grabbed her elbow, she must have jumped because he hesitated briefly turning to look down at her. She smiled at him weakly which seemed to put him at ease, as he again guided her through a door by her arm.

"So you bring me to the courthouse?" This time Quinn laughed, not one she felt deep to her core, but definitely a chuckle. It felt good, her smile widening as she realized she was feeling relaxed.

"I wanted to take you to the dining room at the Beacon Hotel, but we were being followed. Who knew there were paparazzi in Lima?"

"I keep wondering where all these people are coming from." Quinn remembered a time when all she wanted was to be followed and adored, photographed and famous. Now she seemed to have gotten her wish, but for all the wrong reasons.

"So being the quick thinker that I am. Plan B."

He opened another set of doors to a small conference room. The large wooden table was covered by a white tablecloth with a lavish display of food set up. There were trays of fruits and cheeses, croissants, bagels, and brioche. A silver teapot served as the centerpiece of the display, the steam rising from its top proving it was more than purely decorative.

"Wow. This looks amazing. Are you sure it is ok for us to be in here?"

"This is the room for counsel to consult with their clients during a trial. Me counsel. You client. Now let's eat."

"Mmm strawberries. My favorite," smiled Quinn, plucking a strawberry from the tray as she slid into an open chair. "I can't believe you planned all this for me."

"I hope you don't mind a European style breakfast. I just have never really been a fan of eggs and bacon in the morning."

"I love this. I have always thought traditional foods were just too heavy for early in the day. I like to eat breakfast food –"

"At night," he said finishing her sentence.

"Exactly." Their eyes locked briefly, as they smiled shyly at each other.

Artie looked away first, clearing his throat before he spoke. "Now if you will pass me one of those croissants we can get started. I want to explain to you a bit about what is going to happen in there today."

"I thought the judge was going to decide if I get to go home," said Quinn as she handed him a large croissant.

"In the simplest terms, yes that is true. But this hearing is also for the judge to determine if you are mentally competent to face criminal charges."

"You mean go to jail instead of the hospital?" A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she considered the idea of going to prison.

"Child endangerment is a serious offense and Judge Leary has a reputation for being a stickler for the law."

"But I wasn't thinking clearly. I was suffering from depression."

"I know." He patted the back of her hand quickly before returning to his food. "He suspended your sentencing because of that. He's going to want to hear from your doctors about your treatment and your prognosis. He will also want to talk to your friends and family associated with this situation."

"Like Mercedes."

"Yes Mercedes Evans will be asked to speak before the judge. She's Beth's temporary guardian and she was close to you around the time of the incident."

"Great. That's one strike against me. Who else will they call?"

Artie reached down into his briefcase that was on the floor by his feet pulling out a piece of paper. "Noah Puckerman, Dr. Hill, Sue Evans Sylvester, and Julian Jones," he read off the sheet.

"This is a nightmare. I'm never getting out of the hospital. My ex-fiance, the wicked witch of the Midwest - all of those people will sink me."

"We have some time before the hearing begins. Is there anyone else we can add to this who can speak positively on your behalf? How about your parents?'

"My parents live in Chicago and I don't want them involved. At all."

Quinn hadn't spoken to her parents in months. She prayed that they somehow managed not to hear anything about this case on the news. They hadn't been to visit her, so she hoped they were in the dark, or worse, just severely disappointed. The last thing she wanted to face was the fact that she once again made a mess of her life. She couldn't bear the look of disapproval in their eyes. This time Quinn was determined to stand on her own. She created this mess and she was going to get herself out of it.

"Okay. Any other relatives or friends?"

"My best friend was Beth's father. He was always there for me whenever I needed a shoulder to lean on. Maybe he could –"

"And since he's not an option, anyone else?" asked Artie interrupting Quinn mid sentence.

"There is Santana."

"Santana Lopez? With her bad reputation? I think the less you are associated with her the better. In fact, I already had my secretary call and tell her not to show up in court today."

"There goes my cheering section." Quinn wondered if the skies had suddenly turned gray. All those thoughts about the positive effects of sunshine were swiftly fleeting. In their place, was a feeling of dread.

"There has to be someone else." Artie stroked his chin with his hand, as if he were racking his brain for a solution.

"Coach Beiste did let me and Beth stay with her after Puck and I split," offered Quinn.

"Shannon Beiste is a pillar of the community and a business owner. Perfect," he said breaking into a large grin. "I am going to call her up and have her come down here. Don't look so worried Quinn. I am betting that the judge will see the wonderful progress you've made and he will give you probation."

"So no jail and no hospital?"

"That is how it usually goes with cases like this. You went through a terrible ordeal but you accepted responsibility and you are getting treatment. I'm sure the judge will see that you deserve a second chance. Besides did you see the sky out there this morning? What could go wrong on a day as beautiful as this?"

Maybe clouds hadn't covered the skies after all.