"She's coming to visit," Quinn spat out the second Rachel opened the door.
Rachel paused. "Who?"
"Yeah, like you really have to ask." Letting out a harsh exhalation, Quinn twirled around, almost stomping back into their apartment.
Hanging up her coat and scarf, Rachel slowly followed her. "Quinn?"
Already again elbow-deep in dish soap, Quinn ignored her.
"Quinn," Rachel repeated, sharper, hands on her hips, "Who's visiting?"
The water splashed. "Guess."
"Oh for – Fine. Your mother?"
Quinn practically barked. Glaring at the plate she was scrubbing, she rolled her head, "She'd be a godsend."
"Then who?" Rachel demanded.
"Your mother!"