Chapter 12 – Music That Brings Harmony

"In family life, love is the oil that eases friction, the cement that binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony." —Friedrich Nietzsche

The next week, they had another appointment with Maggie, this one specifically to discuss the progress of the exercises. "How did it go?" Beca flushed red to her ears.

"I don't need details," Maggie promised with an amused smile. "But how do you feel?" Chloe was silent and both she and the therapist waited while Beca gathered her thoughts.

"Safer," she said softly. "At home, I mean," she added quickly. "Talking about it here? It's horrifically embarrassing." Both women smiled at her.

"Safer is good. And you have nothing to be embarrassed about. So you were able to go through the entire exercise?" Beca nodded. "Maybe between now and Monday you can try to do it twice."

Beca's eyes bulged. "We did it three times."

"In a week?" The therapist asked, surprised.

Both Beca and Chloe nodded. "Were we not supposed to?" Chloe asked.

"No, that's fine," Maggie said. "That's amazing, actually. That's just a lot to process in less than a week. Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, eying Beca. Beca nodded. They spent the rest of the session talking through the things Beca was still nervous about – and how to move forward.

At home, they continued with the exercises, which were now sometimes turning into heavier make-out sessions than Beca had ever before been part of – and she wasn't freaking out. At least not completely. They weren't having sex – but it was more intimacy than Beca had ever shared with anyone else in her life – and that meant something to them both. Chloe knew what a big deal it was for Beca to trust her – and she cherished and protected it as they worked through the small brunette's fears.

Two weeks later, Beca met Stacy for dinner at one of their usual spots. The drinking started immediately. So did Stacie's questions. "How are things going, in the bedroom?" Stacie asked.

Beca shrugged. It wasn't a question she would have even considered answering the year before. Now, she was getting better at talking about it. "Improving at a glacial pace."

Stacie smirked at her. "That's alright. With climate change, you'll get there in no time." Beca rolled her eyes at her friend. "How are things going with the therapist?"

Beca shrugged. "Okay, I guess. She makes me think too much – which really sucks sometimes."

"You already thought too much," Stacie reminded her. "She's helping you channel those thoughts into useful things."

Beca nodded and took another gulp of her wine. "Most of it is stuff I'm happier not thinking about. So it's – hard."

"You want to talk about it?"

Beca was silent for several minutes. Their drinks were refilled and the waiter told them their food would be ready soon. They thanked him and watched him walk away. Finally, after another swig of wine, she sighed before speaking. "I always was angry with my dad – for the divorce – for my shitty childhood following – for his lack of visits – for wanting me to come to Barden after he'd practically abandoned me." She bit her lip and paused. "But the more we talk about what actually happened, the more I realize that it wasn't all – or even mostly- his fault."

Stacie nodded. She was intuitive – she knew there was more in there – and that Beca needed the space to talk through her thoughts. "My mom – she's not very nice. She never was, I guess. But I never really blamed her for it. Not that I'm blaming her for it now – that would be a total waste of energy. But she really was awful. And my inability to appropriately process emotions as anything other than anxiety – mostly comes from growing up being afraid of her." She scowled. "As you can see, I'm learning fancy new psychobabble to describe being screwed up."

"You're not screwed up," Stacie said softly, smiling sadly at her. "At least, no more than any other human."

Beca's stormy blue eyes were glassy with tears. "All I ever heard growing up, was how much I looked like her. I never liked it – but now – "

Stacie nodded, understanding what Beca was trying to say. She was discovering that she didn't like her mother very much – and was comparing herself to this woman. "I only met her once. But I've seen pictures – you do look like her. But that doesn't mean you behave like her. I know for a fact you don't. Because you have never – in the seven years I've known you – treated a person in a way that would make them feel how she has made you feel."

Beca wiped away tears and laughed. "I feel like it's a cop out, blaming my mom."

"You're not blaming anyone. You're acknowledging what happened – and how much some of those things hurt you – so you can let them go. And you're allowed to do that." They changed the subject eventually, and Beca calmed down before the waiter brought their meal.

They spoke of Emily over dinner. Emily had been doing well back at Barden – living with Benji in university faculty housing. She was comfortable in the setting, and she loved the work. She was taking three classes and working as a teaching assistant for two undergraduate courses. Sheila and Warren invited her and Benji over for dinner – every Wednesday and Sunday. They talked about Aubrey - she had received the job offer in LA - and was moving in less than a month. Beca admitted to Stacie that she felt like she would lose a piece of Chloe when the blonde arrived full time in their lives, but she was also happy for Chloe - and Aubrey. And possibly Jesse, despite still questioning his sanity. The evening whiled away quickly with plenty of wine and two kindred spirits.

Two months after they began the exercises, Beca felt ready to go for it. She thought about trying to make it extra romantic with flowers and candles or even going to a nice resort for the weekend – but then she realized that would simply be creating pressure that she didn't need. Not until she got a handle on the situation.

So, it was a normal Friday evening when, during what had become normally-occurring make-out sessions, Beca guided Chloe's hand somewhere new - and previously in the "no-go" zone. "Are you sure?" Chloe asked, after pulling away from the kiss she was placing against Beca's neck.

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she said. "I just – we should do it," Beca told her. "It's time, I think." She kissed Chloe deeply before pulling back. "I want to do this. I want to be with you." Chloe grinned slyly.

"Well, then, who am I to argue?" She abruptly flipped Beca so she was against the mattress, causing the smaller woman to giggle, breaking the tension and lowering her stress level. And they continued caressing, kissing, and eventually making love to one another.

The next morning, Beca woke to the sun streaming through their bedroom curtains and Chloe watching her with a contented smile. Beca smiled back and turned to face her girlfriend. "You shouldn't watch me sleep. It's a little creepy."

"It's romantic," Chloe corrected her.

"Creepy," Beca teased. They kissed and grew quiet again.

"So."

"So."

"How are you doing?"

"Good," Beca said honestly.

"Good enough to consider doing that again?"

"Definitely," Beca said with a blush. "You're very good – at that."

"Well, thank you, my love. You're not too bad yourself." Chloe kissed her, and pulled back to watch her blush brighten. She ran fingers against Beca's cheek. "Don't ever stop blushing – it's adorable."

"I'm not adorable," Beca grumbled. "And I don't think you have to worry – I don't think it's physically possible for me to stop blushing." They spent a long time in bed, snuggling and talking softly, before finally deciding to start their day. A normal Saturday filled with chores, errands, dinner reservations, and tickets to a show. Nothing – and everything – had changed.

The rest of the summer moved quickly as Chloe prepared to teach her first class – she had been hired to teach first grade at a private school about twenty minutes from their home. She was thrilled – and spent the month leading up to the first day preparing. She prepared lessons, created decorations, and began to stock her classroom. Beca and Stacie went with her the Saturday before school started to help her put the finishing touches on her room. It was adorable – cozy, colorful, and warm.

Beca was insanely busy – she was working on her own album and producing on albums with two different artists. She worked longer and longer hours, but tried to make sure that she and Chloe sat down together for dinner at least half of each week. On the first day of school, Beca woke early and made a nice breakfast – and was putting it on the table when Chloe appeared, ready to go and brimming with enthusiasm and nervous energy. She went to work after that, but reminded Theo four times that she was leaving by 3 – she wanted to be home when Chloe got there.

And Beca was thankful that she was home to greet her girlfriend. Chloe was ecstatic – and spent the evening telling Beca about each of her eighteen new students. She met the challenges of teaching with a truly kind and gently heart and a vibrant personality. Her students adored her, as she did them.

The fall progressed, dotted by a visit from Emily during fall break, and a quick trip back to Georgia for Thanksgiving.

They were torn – Chloe wanted to go home for Thanksgiving – but they didn't want to leave Emily alone for the holiday. And for the first time in her life, Beca kind of wanted to take advantage of the invitation to join her dad and Sheila. All was settled when Lydia Beale found out about the dilemma. Beca, Chloe, Emily, Benji, Warren, and Sheila were all attending the Beale family thanksgiving.

Beca questioned that decision a lot leading up to the day. The logistics, the number of people, the number of people she would be expected to talk to and interact with. She continued questioning it as she sat on the piano bench, sipping hot – and thankfully spiked – apple cider as she watched Chloe's nieces and nephews chase one another around the first floor. Alice, Alex's wife, finally put a stop to it when she exited the kitchen and saw the commotion. "That's enough!" She called. "Go in the playroom – and play! That's what it's for!" She reminded them cheerfully. They did go, but Beca was sure the mayhem was simply being transferred from the entire first floor to a small room. She hoped the walls were padded.

"I hear peace and quiet," Ben Beale said, stepping into the room. He had been on the front porch with Warren and both of Chloe's brothers, discussing some sport or another.

"They've been banished to the playroom," Beca said, nodding in that direction.

"That usually lasts for a few minutes," he said with a chuckle. Beca was surprised when he sat down on a chair by the fire. Close to her. Not too close – but close. She didn't know him well – he was a relatively quiet man in a family of not-quiet people. "This family of mine – they're great. But they're a bit overwhelming at times."

Beca smiled. "Not in a bad way."

"No, no. But it's nice to have a moment or two in quiet company every once in a while." Beca nodded. Beca felt like he might be subtly understanding - and telling her it was okay - that she was overcome by all the company. And it was okay to be quiet, in a house that didn't often experience it. And then he did something to distract her that those who knew her best might not have even considered in that moment. Ben motioned to the piano behind her. "Am I to understand you play this thing?"

Beca laughed. "Would you like me to play something?"

"Yes," he said cheerfully. "I would. Only Chloe ever played it – and since she's been gone – the grandchildren practice on it every now and again, but it could probably use a good workout." Beca smiled.

"Any requests?" She turned on the bench and lifted the fall before glancing over her shoulder, waiting for his answer.

"Do you know Bach?" Beca began playing – and after a second, Ben laughed. She played Penny Lane, in the style of Bach. "You also know John Bayless, I see." She simply smiled and continued playing. When she moved on to Let It Be, the other men from the porch had come in – and sat down to listen. Imagine, Blackbird, and Eleanor Rigby soon followed. Then, Beca needed a break. She had been focused on playing, and blushed when she turned around to realize that everyone was in the room. Everyone. She shook her head and pursed her lips as they began clapping. She glared playfully at Ben.

"You set me up."

"No," he promised. "They interrupted my private concert; how do you think I feel?" Chloe, eyes shining, was grinning from her place next to her mother, just inside the doorway to the kitchen. Beca blushed again when she realized no one had moved - and they were still watching her.

She waved her hand at them all. "Show's over. Go back to what you were doing." Most did – but she soon found herself faced with the youngest of the nieces, Ava. She stared at Beca.

"Hi," Beca said uncomfortably.

"Hi," Ava responded, her slight movements ruffling the skirt of her navy-hued party dress.

"What's up?" Beca asked, after Ava did not continue.

The little girl scrunched up her nose, seeming to be thinking through whatever it was she wanted to say. Then she pointed at the piano. "Can you show me?" She asked politely. Beca smiled and scooted over on the piano bench, patting the space. Ava sat next to her – and Beca spent the next hour before dinner teaching her the notes and a few basic songs. She found a beginning piano book in the stool and showed the little girl how to follow along. They were engrossed enough that Beca jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Chloe stood beside her, smiling. "Ava, honey, go wash your hands – it's time for dinner." The little girl moved to do that, then turned back and threw her arms around Beca, startling the woman.

"Thank you," she whispered, before pulling away and going to do as she was told. Chloe smiled as they watched her go.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Chloe said, leaning down to kiss Beca.

She offered an embarrassed smile and shrugged. "It has been a nice day," she said with a nod.

"Good. Now, let's get in there before my brothers try to get us banished to the kids table."

"I might like the kid's table," Beca argued, standing and straightening the flared skirt of her cranberry colored dress. Chloe laughed and dragged her to the kitchen. They washed their hands and walked into the dining room, which had been turned into a thanksgiving wonderland.

It was a tight fit, but soon they were all seated and passing along the delicious looking food. The conversation was light and happy – lots of giggles and laughs. After dinner, after being told that there wasn't room for her to help with the dishes, Beca took her coffee, found the thick cashmere wrap that matched her dress, and wandered onto the back porch. She settled onto the wooden swing. She could hear the happy bustle from inside, but had a view of the quiet November sunset.

The light brightened for a moment as the door opened and someone joined her. She looked up as her dad sat next to her on the swing. "You could get used to this," he said kindly. His eyes sparkled with happiness - something she was thankful for.

Beca nodded in agreement. "I know I could."

"Good," Warren answered. "You deserve it, Beca." She turned to look him in the eye.

"So do you, dad." They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes – until Sheila found them and asked them to come back inside – for dessert and games. The children were in pajamas in the playroom with Disney movies playing while the adults gathered around the dining room table. Beca found herself on Chloe's team for a cut-throat trivia game.

"Is this really fair?" Beca asked. "There are like five PhDs in this room."

"I'm sure you can keep up, honey," her dad said dismissively. That was also what he usually said before their Scrabble games - where he beat her every damn time.

"It's all for fun," Lydia told her.

"O-kay," Beca responded. She and Chloe did manage to keep up – and Emily and Benjy were a close second - but Sheila and Warren beat them all in the end. But Lydia was right, it was all in fun – and there was lots of laughter. (And shared reading glasses among the older generation as they tried to make out the tiny type on the cards).

The night ended late, with the house cozily packed to the rafters with satiated, happy, cheerful, and sleepy people.

Thanks so much for reading. I do apologize for the delay. I am back to writing - and hope to have the next chapter up this week. Please do let me know what you think - what do you like? No like? wonder? what do you still hope to see it this story? (There are approximately five chapters remaining, give or take one-two).