Hello Readers! Finally, the next chapter. I really thought this chapter was going to come together a lot faster...annnnd it didn't. I wound up rewriting almost ALL of it, several times over. I'm relieved to be done with this installment—hopefully for good! ;)
I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review, I look forward to each and every one I get in my inbox!
Chapter 10: Coming Home, Part Two
Shelby's fingers wrapped around her daughter's arm and pulled her close. "What did you just say to me?" she asked, her tone icy.
"Nothing, I—"
"Say it again, Rachel, I dare you," Shelby bit.
"Mommy," Rachel whined, tugging at her mother's grip. Her heart beat fast as she eyed her mother nervously. "I'm sorry," she added prudently.
"Shelby, let her be," Diane ordered firmly.
"Mother, I can deal with my child without your input," Shelby gritted her teeth.
Her eyes never left Rachel's as her brain worked out what she should do. Her instinct was to swat the girl, but Shelby pushed that aside; she was agitated and knew that wasn't the best solution right now. But oh, it was tempting!
"That's enough. Rachel, help me clean up these dishes," said Diane, coming to the teen's rescue. "Shelby, go to bed. You need a good night's sleep."
The teen didn't need to be told twice and flew to her grandmother's side as soon as she was free from her angry mother's grip. She took the proffered mugs her Nana handed her and followed the woman into the kitchen.
Shelby ran her hand over her face and groaned, flopping back down on the sofa. She complained about her mother under her breath.
John chuckled and moved to sit next to his youngest, patting her knee in sympathy. "Why don't you go up and get ready for bed? You're exhausted and cranky. No sense making yourself miserable."
"It's too early. I'll never sleep through the night," Shelby shook her head.
"You're just as stubborn now as you were as a child," John teased.
Shelby rolled her eyes and settled an annoyed glare onto her father. "I'm not. And anyway, I have to get Rachel to bed first…It won't be much longer if she keeps that mouth on her."
"Let your mother and I handle her. You go on and take care of you," said John.
"That's not fair to you guys," Shelby argued.
"Nonsense. We survived your teen years. Rachel will be a piece of cake compared to what you used to say and do."
"I never talked to you and Mom like that," Shelby argued, waving in the direction her daughter had gone.
"No, you're right," John nodded. "What you said was generally much worse."
"Daddy!"
"Did you have fun tonight, Rachel?" Diane asked as she scrubbed at the mug in her hand. She rinsed it with hot water and handed it to the girl to dry.
"I did," said Rachel, focusing on her task for a moment. "I missed everyone."
"We missed you too, honey," Diane replied with a smile. "I'm glad you're home."
"Me too," Rachel agreed, setting the dried mug next to its companions on the counter. She turned to take the next one from her grandmother.
"Are you excited to move into the new house? You and your mom have a lot of shopping to do for furniture and all. And then unpacking everything—of course, everyone is going to come help next week, so it shouldn't take too long," Diane continued as she rinsed the last mug. She handed it off to Rachel before grabbing another towel to dry her hands.
Rachel lowered her gaze to the mug in her hand. "I guess so…I mean, I really love the house. It's just…" she trailed off. She wasn't sure if she should tell her grandmother about Quinn. She would probably tell Shelby and Rachel didn't want her mother to know.
"Just what, honey?" Diane asked, noticing the uneasy look that passed across Rachel's face.
"Nothing," Rachel sighed with a shake of her head. She set the mug down with the others and turned to leave the kitchen when her grandmother reached out to touch her arm.
"Rach?" the woman said, concerned.
"It really is nothing, Nana. I guess I'm just a little nervous about moving into a new house. I've only ever lived in the one with…well, you know," said Rachel, giving her grandma a sad smile.
"Things will turn out for the better, Rachel. Your mother loves you so much, do you know that?" Diane asked.
"I know," Rachel said immediately, looking up into the older woman's blue eyes.
"PopPop and I love you too, honey. So does everyone else. You're home now," Diane said, pulling the girl in for a hug and kiss.
"I know, Nana," Rachel sighed and rested her head on her grandmother's shoulder.
Diane pulled away and brushed Rachel's hair out of her face and placed a kiss to the teen's forehead. She smiled down at her warmly.
"Why don't you grab a brownie and go sit down in the living room? I'll be there in a minute and we can look through some photo albums, what do you say?" Diane asked.
Rachel's face lit up at the suggestion and she nodded happily. She had already had about five brownies, but she wasn't going to say no to another one. They were probably the best brownies she had ever tasted.
The girl was hurrying into the dining room in the next minute, coming to a halt in front of the table where the glass pan of brownies still sat from earlier. She snatched a napkin and cut herself a large piece before heading back towards the living room.
Shelby looked up when she heard footsteps in the hallway, recognizing her daughter's telltale skipping. "Rachel, you need to go take a shower," she called before the girl had even made her way back into the room.
"I'll do it in a bit," Rachel answered as she joined them.
"You'll do it—"
Shelby cut off mid-sentence as she focused in on the brownie tucked in her daughter's hand and narrowed her eyes. Somewhere in her brain, she realized that her annoyance at seeing the treat in her daughter's hand was probably unfounded, but on the other hand, Shelby knew for a fact that the kids had all eaten half a dozen brownies apiece and Rachel didn't need to be eating another one now.
"Give me that and go take a shower like I told you," Shelby said, holding her hand out expectantly.
Rachel gave no indication that she had heard her mother, except for the brief dirty look she directed at the woman.
"Rachel," Shelby warned. The girl was walking on incredibly thin ice.
"What?" Rachel feigned innocence.
"I know you heard me."
"Nana said I could have it," Rachel argued, moving to the other side of the room. She curled up in the recliner and brought the brownie to her mouth.
Before Rachel could take a bite, her mother was up and standing in front of her, a stern look on her face.
"And I just told you no," answered Shelby, her temper rising. "I'm not playing with you. Give it to me."
"No," said Rachel, glaring at her mother. She turned her whole body away from the woman and took a huge bite from the treat.
Shelby saw red and the restraint she had shown previously disappeared as her instincts took over. Without a word, she snatched the napkin and brownie from her child and slammed it down on the side table next to her. She then yanked a shocked Rachel up and turned her to the side.
"You do not tell me no," Shelby huffed, raising her hand high in the air. She let it hang for a long moment before bringing it down with all the strength she could muster. A second spank landed just as hard on the opposite cheek.
"OUCH!" Rachel yelped, trying to wiggle out of her mother's grasp. Her bottom stung and her cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
"Shelby, that's enough," John said evenly. He normally wasn't one to interfere when his children were parenting their own kids, but there were always exceptions. He knew Shelby was exhausted and not in the best of moods and felt he needed to step in.
Shelby had just been about to deliver a third swat when her father's words stopped her. She felt anger flare up towards the man as she lowered her hand. She turned Rachel around to face her, noting the girl's watery eyes.
"We will finish this discussion upstairs, young lady," she said firmly.
"Shelby—" John tried again.
"What's going on here?" Diane asked as she entered the room and took in the scene before her.
"Go wait for me in my room, Rachel," Shelby ordered.
"But, Mom—"
"Now."
Rachel let out an angry scream and stomped off towards the stairs. She stomped up each step and then made sure to slam the bedroom door shut as hard as she could. A second, even louder, slam came from upstairs and Shelby closed her eyes in an attempt to calm her rising anger.
"That girl is going to get it," Shelby growled.
"You need to let it be for tonight, Shelby," John said calmly. "You're exhausted and angry—
"Of course I'm angry—Rachel has been rude and defiant for the better part of the evening. I'm not about to let her think she can get away with that sort of behavior," she declared.
"What happened?" Diane asked, concerned.
"Rachel kept talking back to me, that's what happened," Shelby fired. "I told her to shower and she wouldn't and then she had a brownie that she wasn't allowed to have and told me no when I told her to give it to me."
"Oh Shelby, I told her she could have the brownie," Diane revealed.
"Yes, she mentioned that," came Shelby's fierce reply. "The way you two have been acting—jumping in every time I'm parenting my child—has Rachel under the impression that what I say doesn't matter because Nana and PopPop overrule me."
"You need to calm down, Shelly," said John. "Your mother and I aren't trying to overrule you, but you're not in the right state of mind to be dealing with Rachel."
"Excuse me?" Shelby demanded, her eyes blazing with fire.
"This is what I'm talking about," John said gently. "It's been a long day and you're exhausted—you're starting to react to everything out of anger. You need to take a step back. Get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning and can talk to Rachel then if you feel you still need to."
"Stop talking to me like I'm a child, Dad," Shelby fumed.
"Shelby—"
"I'm done with this conversation," said Shelby. "I'd appreciate it if you two would keep your opinions about how I'm deciding to raise Rachel to yourselves. Believe it or not, I do actually know what I'm doing."
With that, Shelby turned on her heel and walked determinedly towards the stairs. John and Diane watched their youngest take off up the stairs in a dignified yet no less dramatic storm-off than Rachel had done moments before. The only difference between their departures was that Shelby had managed to climb the stairs without the teenage stomping.
Shelby grumbled quietly about her parents most of the way upstairs. It wasn't until she reached the last few steps that the little voice inside her head pointed out that her dad may have had a valid point.
Shelby huffed as she begrudgingly gave in to her conscience. The truth was, she was tired. And perhaps she did react poorly downstairs. Still, that didn't mean that Rachel had the right to be rude or outright disobedient.
It's nothing that can't wait until the morning, her little voice said. Shelby nodded along with its conclusion.
Shelby paused outside her closed bedroom door, taking a moment to prepare herself. She wasn't going to fight with the girl; she'd send Rachel to take a shower and then she'd crawl in bed. They would talk more in the morning.
She sighed and turned the knob, opening the door. Her eyes fell on Rachel's turned back; she was sitting on the side of the bed furthest from the door, her head bowed. Shelby cleared her throat as she stepped into the room, not wanting to startle the girl.
"How long have you had this?" came the girl's angry voice.
Shelby frowned and furrowed her brows. "Had what?"
As she rounded the bed, her eyes fell on a brown box in Rachel's lap. Rachel leveled her with an icy glare as she drew nearer and Shelby groaned internally. She had completely forgotten about the package from the Berry men in the chaos of the day.
"It came earlier, when I was out with Aunt LuLu," Shelby started.
"What the hell, Mom! When were you going to tell me about this?" the teen demanded.
"Rachel!" Shelby scolded, her eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Why did you hide this from me? You should have told me!" Rachel continued.
"I wasn't hiding it. I forgot. We can open it in the morning, okay?" Shelby said, sitting down besides her daughter. She reached her hand out to pat the girl's knee.
"No, I want to open it now," Rachel declared, pulling away from her mom's touch.
"Rach, please. I'm exhausted and want to go to bed," Shelby sighed.
Shelby didn't have the patience to deal with this tonight. She wasn't sure what was in the box and she didn't want whatever it was to upset Rachel. She'd be more prepared tomorrow.
"So go to bed then," Rachel grumbled.
Shelby's brows rose in surprise once more and she took a steadying breath. She wanted to keep her promise to herself not to fight with her daughter, but Rachel was making that nearly impossible.
"Excuse me?" said Shelby, her voice stern.
"What? You said you're tired," Rachel shrugged.
"Rachel," Shelby warned.
"Mom," Rachel echoed the tone. "I don't understand why I can't open it. It's mine, it has my name on it!"
"I know it's yours, Rachel. It will still be yours in the morning and you can open it then," Shelby said in exasperation.
"That's so stupid! I should be able to open it if I want to, dammit!"
Shelby's anger roared back to life as the remainder of her self-restraint fell away. She snatched the package from the girl's hands as she stood and spun to glare down at her.
"Watch it, Rachel. Keep it up and I'll wash your mouth out," she threatened.
"Give it back!" Rachel snarled. Her eyes darkened as she leapt up from the bed and attempted to yank the box back. Her mother held it above her head, far out of Rachel's reach.
"You can have it back in the morning, if your behavior improves," Shelby returned.
Anger flashed across Rachel's features as she grabbed a fistful of her mother's shirtsleeve and tried to yank the woman's arm down. "Give it to me!" she yelled.
What the hell was her mother's problem, anyway? It was her box, her fathers sent it to her. She had every right to open it and her mother was acting like a complete psycho over it.
"I'm going to give you something," Shelby grumbled, struggling to free herself from Rachel's vice-like grip.
"It's not yours! You can't tell me when I can and can't open my things!" Rachel yelled. "This doesn't even have anything to do with you! It's not all about you all the time!"
"I don't know who you think you're talking to, Rachel, but let me remind you, I am your mother and what I say goes! This is my decision and I said no," Shelby shouted back.
She finally broke away from the girl's grip and tossed the package behind them before turning back to glare at Rachel.
"You need to shower and go to bed. Now."
"You can't boss me around just because you aren't getting your way, Mom!"
"Rachel Barbra, you will do as I say!"
"I don't have to do what you say when what you say is complete bullshit!" she bellowed.
Rachel watched with wide eyes as her mother lunged for her. Her survival instincts kicked in just in time and she darted from the room, careening into the bathroom with lightning speed. She slammed the door shut, catching a glimpse of her angry mother barreling down the hallway towards her. She breathed a sigh of relief at the click of the lock and slid down to the floor.
"Rachel, you open this door right now!" Shelby ordered, pounding on the door.
"No! Go away!" Rachel yelled.
"Little girl, you are going to stop telling me no! Now open this door! We are going to talk about your behavior, do you hear me?"
"Why don't we talk about your behavior?" Rachel returned as she stood from her spot on the floor. She glared at the closed door, as if she stared hard enough, she'd be able to pierce her mother through the solid wood.
Shelby growled and banged on the door harder. "Rachel Barbra Corcoran! You open this door now before I break it down and give you the spanking of your life!"
"I'm taking a shower! That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Rachel fired back. She was angry and hurt by her mother's actions, but she wasn't about to let her mom know that.
"Fine! You take your shower and then get your butt to bed! I don't want to see you until the morning, and I expect you to apologize for the rudeness and defiance you've shown me all night. Do you hear me, young lady?"
"Fine!" screamed Rachel, tears stinging her eyes.
She let out a frustrated snarl and spun on her heels, stomping towards the bathtub. A last glance back at the bathroom door and she was peeling her clothes off and tossing them behind her. She turned on the tap and pulled the lever up to direct the water to the showerhead.
A hand snaked around the flowery shower curtain to check the temperature of the water; deeming it satisfactory, Rachel slipped into the tub and under the stream. She closed her eyes and let the water fall over her head for a long time.
By the time she stepped out of the shower, her fingers were pruny and the room was filled with steam. Rachel wrapped the fluffy towel around her body and padded over to the sink. She swiped a hand across the mirror to clear away the steam and looked at her reflection. Her eyes and nose were red from crying; she frowned and turned her attention to her toiletry bag.
After brushing her teeth and hair, Rachel realized with a sinking feeling that she didn't have clean clothes to change into. She didn't want to put on her old clothes again; they had been in and out of the airport and outside playing with her cousins. Ordinarily, she wouldn't mind scampering in her towel across the hall and into the guest bedroom she occupied, but the girl was partially afraid that her mother would be waiting for her as soon as she unlocked the door.
Well you can't stay here all night either, she thought to herself.
With a huff, she traipsed over to the door and put her ear up against it, listening for any signs of her mother lurking on the other side. When she didn't hear anything, she carefully unlocked the door and eased it open, peeking through the small crack.
The hallway was dark and Rachel saw no signs of her mother or even her grandparents. With a deep breath, she flung the door open and dashed out into the hall. She held the tucked-in part of her towel extra tight as she ran the four feet or so into her bedroom.
Rachel flicked on the light as she shut the door. Her eyes searched the room quickly for any sign of her mother, but there was none. The teen wasn't sure if she was relieved or hurt. She had half expected Shelby to be sitting on her bed waiting for her to come out of the bathroom—to scold her, to yell…and maybe, to comfort.
The girl sniffed and wiped at her eyes quickly, letting her towel drop to the floor. She padded over to her suitcase and grabbed out a fresh pair of undies, along with the nightshirt she had slept in earlier that day.
As she climbed into bed for the night, snuggling up under the blankets with Henry tucked against her cheek, she replayed the events of the evening in her head, wondering how it went downhill so quickly. Lingering anger and hurt settled like a dense fog around her, enveloping her. Her mom had acted extremely unfair tonight; she was harsh and incredibly angry. It was so unlike the Shelby that Rachel had grown to know and love over the last month.
Rachel breathed out a long sigh, her eyes prickling at building tears. She was hurt and confused by her mother's last words to her. This was the first time Shelby had told her she didn't want to see her. It was such a huge contrast to Shelby's words on Monday. She had told Rachel that she could always come to her, even when Shelby was angry. Well, Shelby was angry now…so which of her mother's words were true?
Rachel swiped at her nose and rolled over, hoping sleep would bring her some solace. It didn't. She tossed and turned for ages, finally falling into a fitful sleep that didn't last. When she opened her eyes again to check the time, it was just after one in the morning.
With a frustrated groan, Rachel flung the covers off of herself and clambered out of bed to use the bathroom. After, she stood in the hallway, shifting on her feet as she debated whether or not to go into her mother's room.
Rachel desperately wanted to run to her mom for comfort; she wanted to be held and cuddled. She wanted to know that she was safe in her mother's arms and that everything was going to be okay. But Shelby's angry voice echoed in Rachel's ears: 'I don't want to see you until the morning'.
Technically, Rachel thought, it was morning.
If she were very quiet, she could sneak into the room and climb in bed without Shelby knowing. And if by chance the woman woke up, maybe Rachel could play off that she was sleepwalking.
Rachel took a deep breath and tiptoed down the hall to her mother's bedroom. She paused outside the door for a moment, her resolve waning.
Just go in, she told herself.
Another deep breath and a turn of the knob and the door was opened; she eased into the room soundlessly and crept towards the bed.
Shelby lay curled up in the blankets, no signs of the earlier anger present on her features. She looked peaceful as she dreamt and Rachel's lips pulled up in a half smile.
The girl tiptoed around the side of the bed, fully intending to climb in with her mom. As she passed the bench at the end of the bed, her eyes fell on the package that had caused so much trouble before. Temptation overwhelmed her and before she knew it, the package was in her hand and she was padding back out of the bedroom. She eased the door shut again and slunk down the stairs.
Rachel moved into the living room, flicking on the light as she went. She curled up into the recliner and stared down at the box in her lap. Her fingers traced the familiar letters of the tiny, scratchy writing of LeRoy Berry.
Her index finger picked at the tape along the side, lifting a corner. She paused for a brief moment, wondering if she should really be doing this. Her mother would find out she had opened it…would she be in trouble because of it?
Rachel decided she didn't care and ripped the tape off. Lifting the tabs, she opened the box and stared down at the contents. On top sat a light blue envelope with her name scrawled across the front again in LeRoy's handwriting. Underneath that were several of Rachel's movies and CDs that must not have been packed up with the rest of the boxes now sitting in her grandparents' garage.
As Rachel picked up the last movie, her breath caught in her throat. She gaped at the red Barbra Streisand DVD box set that she had wanted for ages but never got, a mixture of happiness, shock, and confusion overwhelming her.
"Rachel?" a voice called, and Rachel screamed.
Heart racing, the teen threw the box and its contents on the floor and spun in the chair to see who had called her name. She was only marginally relieved to discover that it wasn't her mother, as she had feared, but her grandfather.
"PopPop, I—"
"Are you okay, Rach? What are you doing?" John asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I'm sorry, I—Um—I was just…don't be mad," the teen faltered as she jumped up. She snuck a glance at her grandfather anxiously.
"What? Why would I be mad at you, sweetheart?" John asked, thoroughly confused.
"I'm not in bed," Rachel answered.
"Well, neither am I, munchkin," John replied with a chuckle. "I couldn't sleep."
"Neither could I."
"How about some hot chocolate, Rach? I was just about to make myself some when I noticed the light on in here," John said, wrapping an arm around the small teen and leading them both towards the kitchen.
Rachel took a seat at the kitchen table and watched as her grandfather puttered around getting what he needed to make their drinks. He hummed to himself as he set the kettle on the stove to heat up.
"You know," John said as he grabbed out two mugs from the cupboard, "I used to have many late nights like this with your mom when she was growing up."
"Yeah? What would you guys talk about?" Rachel asked in interest.
"Oh, all kinds of things—and sometimes nothing at all," answered John, plucking two packets of cocoa mix from the box on the counter. He poured the contents into the mugs and then picked up the kettle, filling the mugs with hot water.
"Your mom liked to just sit with me in my chair and cuddle most times. She'd normally fall asleep in my arms," he continued, rummaging through the fridge for the whipped cream. He topped both mugs with a generous amount before turning back to Rachel.
John led his granddaughter into the living room and back to the recliner he had found her in before. He placed the mugs on the end table and then settled into his favorite spot.
"Come here, munchkin," he said gently, patting his lap.
"I'm too old," Rachel said, shaking her head.
Truthfully, Rachel wasn't used to a lot of open love and affection from family members, especially male ones. Her fathers certainly weren't ones to cuddle—at least not after she got older. She could remember sitting on their laps when she was very young, but she actually wasn't sure if those were memories or she had created them in her head. But PopPop always hugged and kissed her, and even her uncles hugged her often. It was all very strange for Rachel, but at the same time, she thought she could get used to it. Still, she was too old to sit on her grandfather's lap and cuddle.
"Nah, you're not," said John. "I cuddled with your mom on my lap when she was a lot older than you, munchkin. There's no age limit on cuddling."
After a few seconds, Rachel relented and went to climb onto her PopPop's lap. John wrapped his arms around the small teen and kissed her head. Then he handed a mug to Rachel before taking a sip of his own.
John smiled and pointed to Rachel's face and the whipped cream mustache she was sporting. He watched as the girl quickly licked her lips clean and gave him a sheepish smile.
"PopPop?"
"Hmm?"
"Why do you keep calling me munchkin? Is it because I'm so short?" Rachel asked, pouting slightly.
"Not at all, Rachel! I called your mother munchkin growing up, and you are so much like your mom, kiddo," John replied, rubbing Rachel's arm.
"I'm not that much like her," Rachel disagreed, anger flashing in her eyes.
"You two had a rough night, huh?" John said in understanding.
"Yeah, because Mom was acting like a royal bit—"
"Rachel," John warned in an even tone.
"Well she was," the teen muttered petulantly. She sighed and turned her attention back to her drink.
"I know you're upset and angry, but that's no reason to call your mom names. She doesn't deserve that," John said.
"Well I didn't deserve what she did to me either," Rachel pouted. "She was yelling at me all night."
"You're right, you didn't deserve that either," John agreed. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Rachel sighed and fell silent, sipping on her hot chocolate. John was content sitting quietly as he drank from his own mug. He could see Rachel's gears turning inside her head, but he didn't want to push her. He had a feeling that if he sat long enough, she would open up to him on her own. After all, that's how Shelby was when she was younger, and whether the girl wanted to admit it or not, she was very much her mother's daughter.
John set his and Rachel's mugs back on the table when they were both finished and let the girl relax into his chest. He could tell she was starting to let her guard down; he could feel her muscles relaxing against him as she let out a yawn.
"There was a box with my name on it in her room," Rachel began, wiggling to try to get her foot flat on the floor. She lost her balance and tipped towards the carpet.
John reacted quickly, his hands moving to Rachel's waist to steady her. He watched as she bent down besides the chair to pick something up. When she stood, she was holding a plain brown box.
Rachel settled back on PopPop's lap and opened the box so he could see. "It's from my dads," she said, picking up the items inside to show the man.
"She told me I couldn't open it, but it's mine, PopPop. She kept yelling and said that I had to do what she says because she's my mother. But she wasn't being fair."
John sighed. "No, she wasn't being fair. She was tired and was acting in a way she shouldn't have been."
Rachel frowned and met her grandpa with sad eyes. "It wasn't my fault she was tired. I didn't deserve to be yelled at like that. She was so angry…and she's gonna be angry all over again when she figures out I opened the box. She told me that I had to wait until the morning," Rachel worried.
"I don't think she'll be angry, honey. I'll talk to her in the morning if it'll make you feel better," he soothed.
"I wasn't even planning on opening the box—not really. I went into her room before because I wanted to sleep with her. But then I saw the box and I just…I don't know," the teen confessed.
"I can understand that," said John, nodding along with the girl's words.
"It made me so mad when she said I couldn't open it. It's mine—why shouldn't I be able to open it? And it's not like I need her to look over my shoulder or hold my hand. I'm not a little kid—and I'm not so fragile that I can't do things on my own. It's just so dumb!" Rachel ranted.
"Tonight wasn't the best night for you two to be talking about anything important. Your mom was exhausted and in a bad mood, and I can understand why that would make you angry too," John conceded.
Rachel nodded along with her grandfather's words, trying her best to stifle a yawn as she did.
"Tomorrow's another day and I bet you'll both feel loads better in the morning. Shelby just needs a good night's sleep—and so do you," he continued, setting the box and its contents off to the side. He smiled down at the girl as she blinked her eyes and yawned again.
"Getting tired, sweetheart?" John asked gently, running his hand over Rachel's hair softly.
"I'm not tired," Rachel said quietly, nestling her head in the crook of the man's neck. She liked how he smelled—it was musky and earthy, with a hint of peppermint.
"All your yawning would say otherwise," he chuckled as Rachel tried to stifle another yawn.
Rachel would have pouted, but the gentle vibrations of her PopPop's laughter soothed her and she closed her eyes. "I can't sleep," she said, snuggling closer to him
"Well then, you just sit here with me for a bit and we'll see if we can't fix that," John whispered as he began to run his fingers through Rachel's soft hair.
Rachel sighed and yawned again. She liked that her PopPop was rubbing her head and playing with her hair. It was very relaxing. And she really was tired, but it was true she couldn't sleep.
"Pop?" the girl asked drowsily.
"Yeah, munchkin?"
"I'm still kinda mad at Mom, but…"
"But what, honey?"
"I wish I could sleep with her," Rachel mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.
John looked down at his granddaughter and smiled, imagining her as a toddler. She looked so much like a young child now that it wasn't hard at all for him to picture.
"C'mon Rach, I'll put you to bed with Mom," he cooed softly. He knew the girl was going to be asleep in a matter of minutes, and it was best if he got her back to bed now.
"No, I can't!" Rachel whined, shifting on John's lap.
"Of course you can, munchkin," replied John, trying to get the girl to stand up. She was stubborn—just like her mother.
"She's gonna be mad," said Rachel, opening her eyes enough so that she could look into her grandfather's face.
"I promise you, Rach, your mom won't be angry because you want to sleep with her," John said kindly.
"But she told me she didn't want to see me until the morning," Rachel protested.
"She didn't mean that, honey. She loves you. And if it'll make you feel better to sleep with her—"
"PopPop, I can't! Besides…I'm not a baby," Rachel whined.
John tried to hide his smile—Rachel would always be a baby in her mother's eyes, just as John's own children were still his babies.
"It doesn't make you a baby for wanting your mother, munchkin," he said, going back to rubbing Rachel's head gently.
Shelby watched from the shadows in the hallway. She really wasn't intending to eavesdrop, but when she heard what her father and daughter were talking about, she just couldn't bring herself to interrupt them.
Shelby had been tossing and turning all night as well. She was exhausted, but she couldn't seem to get to sleep and stay asleep, no matter what she did. She was replaying the earlier events over and over in her head and was feeling increasingly guilty. She had reacted horribly with Rachel and wished she could take it all back.
By two, she decided to get out of bed and check on Rachel. Maybe she would even crawl in bed with her. Shelby crept down the hallway and tiptoed into the room her daughter was in, only to find the bed empty. She had finally crept downstairs to find her father and daughter cuddling in a chair.
Rachel's words hit Shelby like a ton of bricks; this was her fault. She had made Rachel think she couldn't come to her when she needed to. Shelby wanted nothing more than to rush into the room and gather Rachel in her arms, but fear held her in place. What if she messed up even more? Besides, she didn't want to ruin the moment Rachel was having with her grandfather.
John soothed Rachel until she was dozing lightly in his arms. She was small for her age, and he could probably carry her up to bed without much issue. He was in no real hurry though—he liked being able to hold the girl close.
"Daddy? Is she asleep?" Shelby whispered, walking silently into the room. She smiled at her child tucked in her father's arms, sleeping peacefully.
"What are you doing up?" John whispered.
"I couldn't sleep…It's strange not having Rachel in bed with me. I went to check on her and she wasn't there. So I came down here," Shelby replied, maneuvering herself onto the armrest and leaning against her father like she had so many times as a child.
"She's perfect…My perfect little girl," she whispered as she looked down at her slumbering child.
"It's been a rough night for her," John said, staring into the hazel eyes of his youngest. Out of all of his children, only Shelby had inherited his eyes; the three older children all had blue eyes like their mother.
Shelby felt her face flush at her father's knowing look; she knew that look well. It was a quiet reprimand that had always affected Shelby more than any of her mother's stern words ever did.
"I feel awful," she confessed. "I never meant for Rachel to think she can't come to me whenever she needs to."
"I know you didn't, Shelbs," answered John. "I understand that you were tired today, but you can't let that get in the way when dealing with Rachel. I get that she pushed some buttons and you were frustrated, but she's a teenager, honey—that's what they do. They will test your patience at every turn, and it's your responsibility to rise above that and be the adult. You need to stop and think about your actions and words much more carefully now. Believe it or not, teenagers are just as much of a sponge as toddlers are."
"She was just so…She wouldn't listen, Daddy. It's me and her and I need her to mind me. I can't have her disobeying me. If she won't listen to me about the smaller things, how am I going to know she will listen when it's more important?"
"Shelby," John shook his head. "You have to learn to pick your battles. The brownie and the package…you were being unfair. You made them issues because you were exhausted and gave in to those feelings. You can't scream and demand things of Rachel without due cause. It'll turn out exactly as tonight did, every time. I seem to remember telling you that you needed to calm down and get some rest and that you could talk with Rachel more in the morning. Did I not?"
"But Daddy—"
"If you come down hard on her for every little thing, she won't want to listen when it's important. And you have to listen to what she's saying too, Shelby. You didn't do that tonight. You yelled and demanded Rachel do as you say because you were angry, and that's not the way to do it."
Shelby could feel her tears building, but she didn't want to cry and risk waking Rachel. She wiped at her eyes and sniffed a few times, getting it under control.
"Answer me this, Shelby—why were you so set on Rachel not being allowed to open her box tonight?"
Shelby sighed and bit her lip. "She always gets so upset whenever LeRoy and Hiram are brought up. I didn't want her to be upset while I was exhausted. I wanted to have a better head on my shoulders when I dealt with that," she explained.
John nodded along as Shelby spoke and placed a hand on her knee. He sat and patted her leg several times before speaking.
"Those are valid reasons," he said. The look of relief that washed over Shelby's face wasn't missed.
"That's not what you said to her, however," he added, and Shelby frowned.
"Rachel doesn't understand why you wouldn't let her open what is rightfully hers. She's angry and upset. She snuck down here to open it anyway and now she's worried she'll be in more trouble. She wanted to come to you tonight, but she told me you said you didn't want to see her until the morning. Shelby—"
"Daddy, please," Shelby begged, covering her face in her hands. Her tears were impossible to stop now as she choked back a sob.
"Believe me, I already feel awful enough. I never meant to do any of that or make Rachel feel that way! I've screwed everything up!" she wailed.
"Hey, that's enough," John said, his voice stern. He grabbed his daughter's wrist and pulled her hand away from her face so he could meet her eyes.
"You didn't screw everything up. Parents make mistakes too, Shelby—we're not perfect and are allowed to mess up from time to time. It's what you do with those mistakes that matter, you know that."
"But—"
"No buts. This is a difficult situation, but you're doing your best—I know you are. You stumbled today, but I know you are going to learn from it. And Rachel will learn from it. One mistake does not cancel out all the good. Dust yourself off and start fresh. Let Rachel know you love her and that you make mistakes. Don't be afraid to apologize when you're in the wrong. Children need to see that their parents are human too."
Shelby nodded and wiped at her tears. Today had been a bad day; she had messed up both as a daughter and a mother. Her father's words made a profound impact and she took them to heart. She knew that he was only saying these things to help, but they hurt.
Guilt gnawed at Shelby's insides and she felt so much like a misbehaving teenager after all of her scoldings today. Part of her wished that she still were—things had been simpler then. She messed up and her parents were there to correct her and guide her back to the right path. Now she had to find her own way back to the path.
"You're a good mother, Shelby," John continued, knowing Shelby needed encouragement. "It's going to take time for you and Rachel to adjust. She's confused and learning what it means to be a part of this family, and you are learning how to be a mother and have a family. There's a learning curve, Shelbs. Don't be so hard on yourself."
"Thanks, Daddy," Shelby sniffed. "I'll make things right between me and Rachel."
"I know you will, honey," John smiled at his child. "I love you."
"I love you too, Dad."
"I think it's time we all get back to bed. It's late," said John, shifting Rachel in his arms.
"Rach, wake up baby," Shelby cooed, running her fingers along Rachel's cheek. "C'mon sweetie, it's time to go back to bed."
Rachel moaned and tried to brush away whatever was tickling her face. "Go…Leave me alone," she mumbled, shaking her head slightly. She was tired, why was she being bothered?
"C'mon baby, up you get," Shelby said as she pulled Rachel to her feet. She had to pull the girl close and was practically carrying her towards the hallway and the stairs.
"Goodnight girls," John said as he followed them with the empty mugs.
Shelby made short work of getting Rachel back upstairs. She steered her towards the bedroom Rachel had claimed as her own. Rachel fell into bed without any prompting and snuggled into the pillow. Shelby adjusted the blankets and found Henry near the end of the bed. She tucked the stuffed animal in her daughter's arms before crawling into bed next to her. She drew Rachel close as she pulled the covers over the both of them. Shelby knew there'd be a lot to talk about in the morning, but for now, she was content sleeping peacefully next to her child.
Open Arms * Open Arms * Open Arms
Morning light shone through the curtains—directly into Rachel's eyes. The girl groaned and rolled over. She was surprised to see her mother snoozing away besides her. Rachel furrowed her brow and tried to remember when she had gone to her mother's room. As the sleepy haze lifted, Rachel realized they were in her bedroom. When had her mom come in?
Rachel was just trying to figure out what she should do when she saw Shelby's eyes fluttering. She let out a surprised gasp and tried to roll back over, but she was too late. Her mother's eyes flew open at her gasp and locked onto Rachel.
"Hey, kiddo," Shelby greeted. She yawned and reached a hand towards her daughter, wanting to pull her in for some much-needed snuggling.
Rachel's eyes grew wide and she leapt out of bed. "I—uh—bathroom," she sputtered. She turned on her heel and was gone in a flash.
Shelby bolted upright, a hand reaching out, but Rachel had already left. She sighed and rubbed her face.
Rachel shut the door as she entered the bathroom, locking it for extra measure. She hadn't expected her mom to be in bed with her or to have her wake up so suddenly. Her mind replayed their fights from last night and Rachel was in no hurry for the final round.
She wondered if she could get away with going downstairs and avoiding her mother for a time, but quickly brushed that aside. There was no way Shelby wouldn't follow her and then Rachel would be in even more trouble. No, she'd have to face this head on and hope for the best. She dreaded having to fess up to opening the package—surely that was going to reignite her mother's anger all over again.
There was still some lingering anger on Rachel's end over the whole debacle, but mostly she was sad. She was tired of the swirling emotions plaguing her from their fights last night. She didn't want to yell at her mother any longer, she just wanted things to go back to normal.
Rachel took as much time as she dared going to the bathroom and then brushing her teeth. When she came back to the bedroom, her mom was propped against the headboard looking expectant.
Shelby could feel her heart leap into her throat when Rachel came back into the room and she swallowed hard. "Let's talk, Rach," she said as she patted the spot beside her.
Rachel chewed on her lip but didn't move. She wanted to be far out of arms' reach when she said what she was about to say. She wanted the advantage of having a decent head start in case her mother had a bad reaction to her confession.
"Mommy…I—" Rachel paused to take a deep breath, "—I opened the box from my dads last night."
She finished and was surprised that she had sounded so brave—certainly braver than she felt. Her eyes darted up to meet her mother's briefly to see if the same fire from last night was present now.
Shelby's heart ached at the sight of Rachel so nervous. She needed to fix this—now. She climbed out of bed and took her first step towards her daughter. She could tell Rachel was about to bolt again and quickened her pace, reaching her just in time.
"I know about the box, Rach. PopPop told me."
Rachel had been preparing herself for a plethora of different reactions, but that was one she hadn't thought about. Before she even had a chance to sort out her feelings on her grandfather telling her mom she had opened the box, Shelby was pulling her into a hug.
"I'm so sorry for last night, baby. I was an idiot," Shelby said.
Rachel certainly hadn't been prepared for that and tried to pull back, but her mom held her in a tight embrace. The teen felt herself slowly relax and give in to the hug.
"I'm sorry too, Mom," she said.
Shelby smiled and kissed the top of Rachel's head before resting her cheek against the soft hair. When she finally pulled back, she was relieved to see Rachel looking much calmer than she had moments ago.
"Okay, Rach, let's sit down," she said, leading her daughter back to the bed.
Shelby settled back against the headboard, pulling Rachel along with her. She took the girl's hands in her own and rubbed the backs of them with her thumbs as she decided how she wanted to begin.
"Rach…I made some big mistakes last night. I let my anger get the best of me. I was exhausted but that doesn't excuse my actions. I had no right to speak to you the way I did—or treat you the way I did. I'm truly sorry, baby."
"You were really unfair the whole night," Rachel added, focusing on their clasped hands.
"I was," Shelby agreed. "I'm sorry I—"
"You yelled at me over everything. You yelled and pushed me off your lap and then were so mean—I didn't know what I did and still don't. And you took the brownie away and smacked me—which, by the way, Mom, wasn't fair. Nana said I could have it," Rachel continued.
"I'm sorry, Rachel. It was wrong of me and I don't have an excuse for my behavior. I was being a bi—uh—controlling."
Rachel rolled her eyes as she barked out a derisive laugh. "That wasn't the only thing you were being 'controlling' about," she muttered.
Shelby nodded and reached out to tuck Rachel's hair behind her ear. "I know," she soothed.
Rachel frowned and moved her head away from her mother's fingers. She didn't want to be told that her mom 'knew'. She wanted her mom to hear how she had made Rachel feel. She wanted her to know she had been completely out-of-line. Her thoughts began to race and Rachel could feel her anger starting to bubble and build up inside her. She had to get it all out before it consumed her.
"And what was your problem with the box my dads sent? You went completely ballistic over it. You had no right to tell me I couldn't open it last night—especially since you didn't even have a good reason! You just wanted to tell me what to do and expect me to follow along with whatever you want whenever you want it! And—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Shelby surrendered, her hands in the air.
"Mom! You can't stop me from telling you how I feel!" Rachel argued.
"Honey," Shelby soothed, "I'm not trying to stop you from telling me your feelings. Can we take it one at a time though?"
"Fine," Rachel huffed, crossing her arms.
"Okay," Shelby nodded. "You're right—I did go ballistic. I shouldn't have told you no. But I did have a good reason."
"Because you're my mother and you say so isn't a good reason," Rachel scoffed.
Shelby pursed her lips and shut her eyes for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Opening them again, she met Rachel's dubious glare.
"I was afraid you were going to be upset by whatever was in the box. I wanted to wait until I was able to deal with that," she began.
Rachel rolled her eyes and let out a disgruntled huff. "It was a couple of CDs and movies they forgot to send. Big whoop. Oh, and waiting until you could 'deal' is complete bullsh—"
"Rachel!"
Another eye roll, but otherwise Rachel ignored her mother.
"I'm a big girl, Mom. I can handle opening my own mail without you breathing over my shoulder."
Shelby raised her eyebrow, but didn't comment further on Rachel's language—there was time to discuss that later. Instead she focused on the meat of the issue.
"I know I didn't explain myself properly last night, and I'm sorry for that, Rachel. I also know you can open your own mail without my help—it was never about that, but I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I only wanted to be there for support," she said.
Rachel sighed and nodded as a bit of her anger melted away. She appreciated her mom acknowledging her feelings and offering an apology for it.
Shelby took Rachel's nod as a good sign and continued on with the girl's next grievance.
"As for telling you what to do and expecting you to listen—yes, I do expect that. I am the parent and I make the rules—" she held her hand up to silence Rachel when the girl looked ready to butt in. "—but I was wrong for expecting that last night."
Rachel seemed satisfied with that statement, and so Shelby continued. "It's my job to recognize when I'm angry and to take the appropriate steps to calm down, and I didn't do that. I should have never sent you away from me out of anger—it should always be done to give us both time to calm down."
"You said you didn't want to see me for the rest of the night…But you said before that I can always come to you, even when you're mad. You lied," Rachel said in barely more than a whisper. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly brushed them away.
Shelby's heart constricted at her daughter's words and she immediately wrapped her arms around her girl. She felt Rachel latch onto her, her fingernails digging into Shelby's back.
"I never meant to lie. It isn't a lie…I made a horrible, horrible mistake last night. I can't tell you how sorry I am for that, Rachel. I'm so ashamed of myself," Shelby breathed, her own eyes burning from the tears she refused to let fall.
Shelby squeezed Rachel tight and then pulled back, still holding onto her arms. "I am so, so sorry, Rachel. You didn't deserve that and I'll…I'll never forgive myself for s-saying that to you."
Rachel stared deep into her mother's eyes, right down into her soul. She could see herself mirrored in the earthy green and brown irises glistening with tears. Something else was there as well, reflecting back at her—immense pain. And sadness. It was so intense, Rachel could feel it reverberating in every fiber of her being. She extended the index finger of her right hand and touched the lone teardrop that had fallen onto her mother's cheek, wiping it away. As she removed her finger, more flowed and soon the dam was freed, sending torrents down Shelby's face.
"Mommy, don't cry," Rachel said even as her tears began to fall. "I forgive you!"
Shelby choked out a sob and crushed Rachel to her in a fierce hug. "Oh Rachel, I love y-y-you so much! I'm so sorry for ev—everything!"
Rachel buried her head in her mother's shoulder as soon as she was pulled close and cried her heart out. The pain and anger she had been harboring since last night drained away with every tear that fell.
Mother and daughter stayed in each other's arms long after they had both stopped crying. Neither one of them wanted to let go.
Shelby rubbed Rachel's back in soothing circles for a long time. She took a breath and slowly untangled herself from Rachel. The girl's eyes were bloodshot and puffy and her nose was red; she imagined her appearance was similar.
"Rach, there's one last thing I'd like to talk about, and then I think we should both go shower," she began.
Rachel straightened up and rubbed her nose. It felt clogged and runny all at once, and she was thankful when her mom handed her the box of tissues. She blew a few times as her mother did the same and then looked at her expectantly.
Shelby balled her used tissues together and reached for the ones her daughter had tossed onto the bed, throwing them all away in the wastebasket tucked under the nightstand.
"You know, Rach, I'm more than a little alarmed at the way you were speaking to me last night and again just before," Shelby said.
Rachel furrowed her brows and gave her mom a questioning look. What did she mean, the way she had been speaking? How had she been speaking?
"Huh?"
"You were very disrespectful towards me, Rachel, and I don't appreciate it," said Shelby, her voice taking on a stern tone.
"What?" Rachel balked, her eyes narrowing. "But you were acting crazy and being unfa—"
"And we've already discussed that and I've apologized. I know I made mistakes, honey, I'm not denying that. But that doesn't mean you're blameless in all of this."
"But, what—How? I—"
"You cursed at me several times, even after I gave you multiple warnings. I don't want you saying those words period, but especially not when directed at someone. It's rude and nasty to speak to someone that way, and incredibly disrespectful. I don't want to hear it again, Rachel, do you understand?"
"But Mom, it's not like I said anything really bad!" Rachel whined. "You're acting like I said the f-word…and even that—it's just a word."
"A word I better not ever hear you say, young lady," Shelby warned.
Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes. Her mom was making too big a deal out of this. Rachel had grown up hearing her dads cuss all the time. They were just words, and then only syllables. They had become absolutely meaningless after a time.
"I'm serious, Rachel," Shelby chided. "Like I told you last night, I will wash your mouth out with soap if I hear you speak like that again."
"That's not fair! You cuss," Rachel argued.
"I do," Shelby agreed. "The difference, however, is I am an adult and I know how to censor myself. Furthermore, Rachel, I don't speak to you or anyone else that way and I will not allow you to do it."
"It's not my fault. My dads cussed like sailors," the teen mumbled, a deep pout on her face.
"Be that as it may, Rachel, in this family, we don't," Shelby said firmly as she tucked that bit of information away for later. She wasn't happy with Rachel's colorful language, but at least she knew where she had picked it up from; she'd keep that in mind as she worked on correcting the behavior.
"It just slips out," the girl whined.
"Well, from now on, I want you to think about your words a bit more carefully. Take a moment to consider what you are going to say before you say it. If you decide you need to curse and be disrespectful, you know what the consequence will be," Shelby stated calmly.
Rachel sighed and ducked her head. She had to admit defeat. She didn't want to be scolded anymore and besides, her mom was starting to make her feel guilty about what she had said.
"I was angry with you when I said all that stuff, but…I'm sorry I was disrespectful," she conceded. "I'll think about what I say."
Shelby smiled and hooked a finger under Rachel's chin to tilt her head up. "That's all I can ask, Rach. Thank you for the apology. It's all forgiven, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel nodded with a relieved sigh.
Shelby leaned forward and placed a kiss on Rachel's forehead. "We're going to move forward from here and both be more aware of how we speak to each other. I don't want a repeat of last night—on either of our ends."
"Me neither," said Rachel.
"We'll hold each other accountable, okay?" Shelby said.
Rachel furrowed her brow and gave her mother a dubious look. "Okay, Mom," she rolled her eyes.
"Hey, what?" Shelby prompted.
"Well, being 'held accountable'—" Rachel emphasized with air quotes, "—is just a grown up's fancy phrase for being told off and punished. So how am I really gonna hold you accountable? You don't have to worry about anyone swatting you or—or washing your mouth out with soap. That's not fair."
"Oh Rach," Shelby couldn't help but laugh, "Believe me, I have to worry about that any time I'm in the same room with Nana."
"Mom," the teen whined.
"Okay," Shelby sobered. "Serious answer…Anytime you feel I'm being unfair or acting out of anger, I want you to tell me. I'm not perfect, honey—I might not always be aware of it. Let me know. I promise I'll stop and take a step back."
"Really?" Rachel questioned, still not convinced.
"Really," Shelby repeated. "That doesn't mean I want you to yell and be rude back. We can always have a conversation, but I want you to be respectful. I will be as well. Deal?"
"Deal," Rachel nodded.
"Okay," Shelby smiled, kissing the girl's head again. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to wash my face and feel fresh for a new day. Maybe Nana will make us chocolate chip pancakes and then you and I can go shopping for all new things for the house. What do you say?"
Rachel's eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate chips and shopping. She nodded enthusiastically as she sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck.
"I love you, Mommy," she whispered into the woman's ear.
Shelby's laughter tinkled like a bell as she enveloped Rachel in her arms. "I love you too, baby," she smiled and patted a gentle rhythm on her daughter's bottom.
Shelby's heart swelled with pride as she held her child close. They had just experienced their first ever honest-to-God, all-out fight—and came out stronger because of it. Whatever the future held, Shelby knew she and Rachel could handle it, together.