Chapter 10: A Fish Singing in A Tree
Brittany was finding that she liked having Shelby in her life. She was taking her out for ice cream almost every other Sunday now, and she always listened to what Brittany said, even if other people wouldn't have wanted to hear it.
Brittany was beginning to realize that Shelby didn't have very many people in her life. It was part of the reason why she had so much time to spend on her students.
Brittany had never been that into singing when she was younger, though she had taken a choir class in middle school. But Shelby was so patient when she taught her—that Brittany really felt as though her voice was growing like a plant inside of her. Shelby would sit at the piano, and Brittany would stand beside her. If Brittany had trouble singing the notes correctly, Shelby would play out the notes she was supposed to sing on the piano while she was singing them—a guiding hand.
She would sing with her and she would let her sing alone. No matter how long it took for Brittany to learn something, Shelby never made her feel stupid. There was barely anyone in the world who could do that.
Santana had started texting Brittany again on occasion. She invited Brittany to watch McKinley's school play with her.
Brittany had noticed that Santana had seemed pretty nervous while watching the play, but she wasn't sure why.
"Do you get secondary stage freight?" Brittany had asked softly.
"What?"
"Does seeing them nervous make you nervous?"
"I'm not—" Santana looked at her, eyes glittering in the light from the stage. "I'm not nervous, Brittany."
Brittany could tell she was lying, but instead of saying so, she just took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Santana jumped, then brushed hair away from her face, relaxing a bit. She smiled at Brittany, and twined their fingers together. She wore a small smirk as she looked at the stage again.
"Congratulations on your performance in the play," Brittany told Shelby at her next piano lesson.
"What?" Shelby said, blinking in confusion.
"You look really good in green." Brittany winked then took her seat.
Shelby shook her head and decided to let it go. Sometimes her daughter said things and she had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
~S~B~B~B~B~B~B~B~B~B~
"Quinn, I need to talk to you."
Quinn slammed her locker shut.
"Yeah?"
"Me and Brittany...I think we had a moment. At the play. She took my hand, we were holding hands, Quinn!"
"That's great. See, I told you it was a good idea to start texting her again."
"I know. You were right! I just, I never thought that she would be interested in me!" Santana laughed.
Quinn looked at her with a smug smirk in place. "You underestimate yourself. You always have. So, don't. You'll go far."
"What about, what about you and Rachel? How's that going?"
Quinn sighed. "We're still not an item, if that's what you mean. Gosh! I give good advice, but I just don't take it, do I?"
"Well, to be fair, neither of us even know if Rachel and Brittany swing that way so—"
"Oh, I know Rachel's into girls. Brittany is a more complicated case. She probably doesn't even know herself. Rachel likes girls. I'm 99 percent sure. It's just I don't want to scare her away. She's sensitive. Fragile."
~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~B~
Being around her daughter was a lot more painless than Shelby had ever imagined it could be. She had read self-help books that warned of the emotional intensity of reunions between birthmothers and their children. But what she had with Brittany was just so...simple.
She knew she shouldn't relax yet, because it could change at any moment. Maybe Brittany's resentment would show up later, unexpectedly. But Shelby found it hard to imagine the girl harboring any anger. She just seemed so innocent and emotionally healthy, free in a way that Shelby hadn't been since she got pregnant.
It was hard to see herself in Brittany, but if she looked closely, she knew it was there. Brittany was clearly securely attached, and Shelby had been throughout her childhood and adolescence as well. Brittany loved music and although she could be a little slow learning some things, she had a beautiful voice, and she was almost never afraid, so her voice was not choked by nerves and inhibitions.
Unlike Rachel. Shelby wasn't sure why her thoughts kept drifting back to Rachel. Rachel wasn't her responsibility. She wasn't even her student (she wasn't enrolled in any of her classes, at least, she merely attended the school where she taught). But she realized that because Rachel had sent her those emails, because Rachel had had that strange reaction to her, because Rachel had reached out to her for help—she couldn't get her completely out of her head.
Shelby had promised herself that she would talk to Rachel's counselor—try to see if she could get a better idea of what was going on. But she had just been so busy with Brittany, and Vocal Adrenaline, and the subject of Rachel was not a pleasant one. Shelby was afraid of what she would find if she dared to look closer.
~R~R~R~R~R~R~R~R~R~S~
Rachel could tell that Cassandra's happiness over her role in the play was beginning to wear off. Rachel only had one last performance to get through—and it was an important one. This was the performance where, when it was over, she would give Quinn the roses. This was the show that could be truly life changing.
And so of course her mother was in a foul mood. Cassandra seemed to be able to sense whenever something was exceptionally important to Rachel—and she tended to find a particularly nasty way to mess it up.
"Where are you off to, Davie?"
Rachel froze. She could smell the alcohol.
"The performance, remember?" Rachel spun around to face her mother. "It's the last one. Quinn's giving me a ride."
"The last one..." Her mother said thoughtfully. "Well, if it's the last one, why do you need to go?" Her mother laughed.
"Well I..."
"Don't you have homework you need to get done? You've been spending too much time with that dyke anyway."
"If I don't go to the performance how will I ever get casted as anything again?" Rachel found herself panicking.
"Tell them you're sick. That you can't sing. What are you doing with those roses, anyway?"
Rachel backed away. This couldn't be happening, not now. Rachel took a deep breath. "Okay..." she said. "I'll tell them."
Rachel hurried back to her room. She listened for a moment to make sure her mother hadn't followed. Then, she took the screen out of her window, carefully set it aside, and climbed out. She ran down the block, pulling out her phone to text Quinn, telling her to meet her at the corner instead of at her house.