Taking time to read any fanfiction is a personal choice. To those readers who continue to read and follow each chapter in this story, I can't say it enough - Thank You.

Trigger Warnings: Interpretations of Biblical teachings are covered.

All wordsmithing errors are mine alone — notes at the end.

Chapter Title: 100 Bad Days

What You Gonna Do? Who You Gonna Tell?

Dottie exited the elevator, her attention on Zee, who made his escape when the doors opened. Dottie had accepted it. Zee made the breakout part of his morning ritual. Setting Elle down the baby took a few steps on her own, before plopping down on her butt. She lifted Elle back in her arms, Dottie could hear Santana and Zee in the kitchen. She said, a mental crap to herself. Since she found Santana sleeping with Brittany, under a blanket, both naked, on the couch, mornings were awkward. Either Santana had an excuse to leave after covering the formalities of the day, or an uncomfortable silence existed between the two. Zee and Elle filling the void.

"I have a late meeting with Paul today, can you stay beyond six tonight?" Santana asked, setting her coffee cup on the counter. Taking Elle into her arms.

Dottie started to prepare Zee's breakfast, shook the cobwebs from her head, "Uh...yeah, sure," she replied, averting her gaze from her employer. "I have plans for Valentine's Day." She blurted out, "I wanted to leave a little early on Thursday. Is that ok?"

"I guess." Santana frowned with a shrug of her shoulders. She gave Elle a slice of toast from her plate. It hadn't escaped Santana's third-eye that Dottie had something on her mind. She'd been nervous and jumpy since the night Brit had stayed over. "Uhm... hot date?"

"Uh, no. Gabby, from book club, is hosting a single-girls dinner party." Dottie replied, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, "We're planning to watch '500 Days of Summer'."

Santana nodded, "That sounds ... um, fun, I guess."

"I'm looking forward to it. It's been a while since I've celebrated Valentine's Day." Squeezing, her eyes shut, "I mean... Uh..." adjusting her glasses, carrying a cereal bowl to Zee table, "You know, last year we were in Naples, and before that, you and Dave were out."

Santana's eyes flashed as her body tensed, "No, it's time you enjoy the day." She said. Handing Elle back to Dottie, "Uh... Dottie, we need to talk."

A shiver went through Dottie, "About?" setting Elle in her high chair.

"What happened last week." She sighed "with Brittany."

"Look, Santana, what you do in private is your business. I, hmm, I just don't think you should bring it home." She said, reaching for a banana from the fruit basket to peel.

"It wasn't planned, Dottie. We fell asleep." Santana answered candidly.

"That may be Santana. I just think that with everything that Zee and Elle have gone through. Losing their father. Now you're going to work." The nanny flustered, "That finding you, Uhm ... well cuddled up ... um in the nude as well, ... is. Uh ... inappropriate. I mean ..." Dottie stammered. Taking a table knife from drawer to slice the fruit.

"As I said, it wasn't planned."

Ignoring her employer, Dottie sliced the banana, "Now I realize you and Dave had an untraditional ... um, marriage. That you both sought affections outside of your relationship. However, you never brought those um outside relationships home."

Confused, Santana scrunched her face, "Dottie, we invited them to the house. Zee saw Dave and Spencer together. Me and Britt. My birthday party. We hang out together."

"Yes, but he never asked me before." Setting a bowl of sliced banana on Elle's tray, the other on Zee's table.

Santana could feel her spine stiffen at Dottie's words, "What did he ask? What did you tell him?"

"Well, I uh, we've talked about inappropriate touching. And well, I uh used the play doctor analogy. Well, hmm, he wanted to know if you were playing doctor with Brittany." Peeling an orange from the bowl for herself.

Covering her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, "And what did you say?" Santana said, delighted.

"Santana, I hardly think this is funny." she shot back, her eyes flashed with anger, "He's at an impressionable age. I tell him one thing, his grandmother, another, and then he sees you lying with Brittany. And you don't say a word. You don't think I don't see her ... "

Santana narrowed her eyes as she listened, "Which grandmother?"

"Who do you think?" Dottie spat.

"What did she say?"

"She tells him about sinful acts. Uh, beyond the ten commandments."

"Of course she does," a note of contempt crept into her voice "Why even ask!" For a moment, Santana considered her next move, "I'll take care of Karen ... and talk with Zee." Standing up from the chair

"What about Brittany?"

Santana gave Dottie a hasty glance over her shoulder. "Get used to her. She's not going anywhere."

We Had To Work A Bit More Hard

Jesse slammed the truck door shut, adjusting his knit cap, breathing in the crisp cold air into his lungs. "Fuck, I hate winter," he mumbled to himself. Jesse walked around the truck, then picked his way over the rough ground that led to the river. At the edge, he could see the rods in holders on the river ice. Bobbing gently alone like guard sentries. Jesse gingerly stepped onto the ice. Holding his breath, to listen for the sound of ice cracking, when none came, he put his other foot onto the frozen water. With arms raised to balance himself, Jesse made a few tentative small sliding steps forward. Confident that the ice would support his weight, he continued to shuffle forward. The slow pace making him impatient, he lifted his right foot to take a good step forward. Then his left, the right shoe slid forward, his body shifted. The sensation of his butt airborne, his arms spread backward to break his fall he hit the ice, with a thud followed by a sudden crack. He furrowed his brow, alarm bells ringing in his head, as concern grew on his face, he listened. Behind him, he heard Jay and Norm laughing. Twisting his body on the cold surface, he saw the farmers standing at the river's edge.

"What the fuck! I could be in danger here, and you idiots are laughing!" he shouted, not amused.

"The second rule of ice fishin' don't go by yourself, Jesse," Norm shouted back. "Jay broke a branch off this here tree, same time you went down."

"Yeah, you're fine, Jesse. Ice is still plenty thick." Jay added, holding onto the remains of a branch, he tossed to the ground.

Jesse struggled to get back to his feet, arms out once he was upright to steady himself. He watched as the old men shuffled their way across the ice. "You're late!"

"Ya, discussion about the Bucks game against Illinois tomorrow night, over our mornin' coffee at the café," Norm said.

"They're on a winnin' streak. Lost six of there seven games last month." Jay added, "February's been better to 'em."

The three men stood in a triangle a few feet away from each other, "Did you pull anything out of the water yesterday?" squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight.

"Just a shoe. It's in the back of Jay's truck." Norm wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Left it in the bag, like yous told us too," Jay added. "Ya know we're gettin' asked why so many holes in the river? We're drawin' attention and not gettin' much fish."

"Ya, that's not normal. Puttin' the fish back."

"Folks are startin' to think mes and Norm are losin' our minds. Even the wives thinks we're crazy."

"Don't worry about that." Jesse answered, "Let's go see if we got anything this morning." Turning around, his eye caught a bright object near the barren trees. "Is that a boat," he pointed over to the silver shape glistening in the sun.

The farmers turned in the direction Jesse pointed, shading their eyes with their hands. "That's the Becker boy's canoe." Jay answered, "Kid doesn't have the sense God gave him to store or cover it in the winter."

"Just like his dad, doesn't appreciate what he has."

"Looks aluminum too me, it's probably coated anyway." Jesse defended Becker's son, both men he actually liked. "Let's go. It's fuckin' cold out here."

Each man went to different holes augered into the ice, the lines had been extended further into the river. Jay was positive that the water was deeper in front of the bluff, where the mansion stood above. Jesse had pulled his last line up, a catfish fighting for his life, its tail swished, slapping in the air as he tried to carefully remove the hook. "Jesse!" he heard. Turning his head to see who was calling him. "Hang on Jay," the fishhook releasing from the flesh of the fish's mouth. "Happy life, buddy," he muttered as he watched the bullhead slip beneath the water. He rose to shuffle toward Jay, who carefully slid toward him. "Whatcha got Jay?" taking the cloth bag from him. Pulling the gloves from his hands, he dug at the wet string of the slipknot to loosen it. "Got another one here, Jesse," he heard Norm shout. "Bring it over, Norm," he yelled. The knot gave way, he spread the top of the bag apart, "holy fuck," he mumbled as he looked into the large sack. He put the bag under his arm, put his gloves back on, then pulled out a gun's receiver. Turning it over, the serial number glistened in the sun. "Fuck you, Heider," he let out a satisfied yell.

"That good, Jesse?" Norm laughed, trading Jesse's bag for his.

"Jay, here made my day, Norm!" Jesse said as he followed the same process. Looking into the bag, he pulled out the barrel. "No, you both made my day." Jesse, with a broad grin on his rose-colored face. "Grab the poles boys we're done fishin'."

No, I Ain't Scared Of You No More.

Paul sat at his desk, dressed in his usual winter office wear a classic two-piece suit, this one charcoal, matched with a white dress shirt, purple tie, gold cuff links with a diamond. He'd hung up the jacket, through his white shirt, the outlines of a white t-shirt. Santana just behind him as he went through the short term strategies for the upcoming year. "Nothing like last year Santana, mostly equipment upgrades. Marketing initiatives for new products, along with the expansion of additional third-party products. Those folks will squeeze every penny of profit from us or at least try." Glancing over his shoulder, "Donna McHale knows their games, she'll keep an eye on 'em." Sighing from boredom, "One thing PR has been pushing me for, one of the trade rags wants an interview. Not a high priority for me, but you might want to consider it. Up to you. I'd expect some resignations toward the end of summer, but I should be back by then."

"I hope not from my tenure?"

Paul chuckled. "Uh, No. Retirement. Morris and Lynch both turn 65 this year."

Moving the pointer on the screen, he closed out the documents "You still have required diversity and sexual harassment courses to complete. But at least we know all your logins and email work. Emma took care of all your other forms for healthcare, insurance, etc. You'll need to sign them. You already have keys and a badge. My parking spot is yours to use. Of course, you still have yours and Dave's."

Santana laughed. "They're all next to each other."

"Then make it an award for an employee. That's what your use to be." He smiled. "So any more questions before Monday?" closing the laptop, he stowed it in the bag he'd taken from beneath his desk.

"Yeah, there is. But it's not work-related."

Paul arched an eyebrow, "What's that?"

"Uhmm, Karen."

A deep frown creased Paul's forehead, "God, now what?"

She drew in a long breath. "Uh, we don't see eye-to-eye on particular world views. She's insistent on a more literal interpretation of the Bible's teachings on say, mmh homosexuality that neither David or I believed in. We didn't want Zee or Elle to be haters of a group, that our friends belong too."

"Burt Hummel's boy, Kurt?"

She nodded, "And Blaine Anderson, too."

Paul's shoulders slumped as he shifted back into his seat. "Santana ... when you ... Uh ... asked Karen to leave the house that night, she called me." smoothing his tie with a hand taking a breath, "I reminded her that we had similar problems with our parents. I went to bat for you. The work you've done for KEI. The parade float. Wade, is it?"

Santana nodded "Unique" she quietly mumbled

"That KEI has employees who represent different ethnicities, religions, etcetera." He said with a dismissive wave, "then I reminded her that her only grandchildren were bi-racial." He clasped his hands together, bring his thumbs to a point. "Uh, I told her," he glanced up at the ceiling, cleared his throat, "that Dave preferred men."

Inwardly, Santana winced, "I'm sorry, what?"

Paul stood reaching into his pocket, he walked over to the credenza, unlocking a drawer with a key he'd pulled out. "You might as well see this. Not that you couldn't have found it on your own." He brought a file over to the desk, laying it down. "Go ahead. Look at it. I'll warn you it's disturbing."

Santana flipped the folder open to read the legal documents. She heard Paul opening the liquor cabinet, liquid poured, the thump of glass on the desk "You paid them off?"

"To protect KEI. You. Zee. Karen. Dave. I didn't see another choice." Paul confessed, taking a drink from his lowball glass. "I'd talk to him about it. He'd promise me he'd stop. I wanted to believe him." taking another gulp to finish off the liquid. "But I knew he wouldn't. Homos can't be cured. What April and Burt tell me."

"Gay. David preferred gay, Paul." Closing the file, she'd read enough.

"You knew?" his eyes possessed a moment of shock, "And you married him anyway?" Paul confused by her admission.

Taking a deep breath, "Our marriage was complicated, Paul. We, um, we didn't want to be rejected by our families. So we came up with this plan, we both got what we wanted. Acceptance." Downing the whiskey in her glass to calm the panic that pulsed through her body. She'd just come out to her father-in-law. "Uh, listen if you want me to leave. Pick someone else to run the company while you're gone. The children and I can leave, save you any embarrassment."

"No, I want my grandchildren ..."

Her body reacted. Santana stood in defiance, "I'll fight you with every penny in my inheritance if you think you can take my children away from me."

"No, sit. Please," Paul sighed heavily, "I'm not that stupid or religious, Santana." he said sincerely, "What you said. Um, we? We didn't want to be rejected?" sitting down in a chair across from her, "So, does that mean you're gay too? I only ask because I know about the stipulations of your trust fund."

"Am I a lesbian or did I marry for money? Yes, to both."

Paul's brows lifted in surprise he sat speechlessly, "I'd never have guessed that about you, Santana. The way you dress?" Paul stumbled for the right word, "Uh, Stylish." He uttered, "Here, I always thought lesbians were feminist Nazis who hated men."

"That's an old school stereotype."

"My Dad wasn't a fan of either." A slight smile crossed his lips as he tried to make light of his categorization. "About the children?"

"If you mean, are they Dave's. I have a paternity test that confirms it. I can ..."

"No, does Zee know? Or will they know?"

"Why I need your help with Karen." "Children need love to succeed," she offered sagely.

A Hundred Good Stories Make Me Interesting At Parties

Blaine laughed. "No, seriously, Hunter swears to me this really happened. He was on a flight between Houston and Minneapolis. Everyone heard this baby whimpering. So the attendants are going from seat to seat, trying to find out where it was coming from. One of them opened the overhead, and there it was wrapped in a blanket."

Baffled, "Isn't that like child neglect or something?" Rachel questioned.

"I asked the same thing, Rachel," Kurt replied. "Hunter said that they had child services waiting for her. The mother claimed she just wanted a quiet place for her baby to sleep."

"I'm surprised Hunter lives in Lima, he's a flight attendant, couldn't he live anywhere?"

"I find that odd too Mercedes, but he says he likes small-town life. Especially since he doesn't work for the Karofsky's anymore." Blaine replied. "Just has the apartment at Adjacent. No roots to speak of."

"Did he ever mention anything weird the Karofsky's did while he worked for them?" Rachel asked.

"Uh, yeah, he does have some stories. Uh, when Dave flew in the mornings, he always wanted a McDonald's big breakfast waiting for him." Blaine snickered. "Or when they fly to away football games, Alastair always has to provide tailgating food."

"Oh, Karen only allows Christan artists to be played over the speakers," Kurt added. "April likes champagne and will change up the flowers she wants depending on the season."

"Paul sent the jet to Seattle, to pick-up a puppy he'd bought," Blaine added.

"Oh, that was a funny story. Hunter said the puppy had a collar and a lead. Otherwise, it had free rein of the cabin. Hunter was certain that the dog would his lift his leg on something."

"No, kennel?"

"It arrived in a kennel. Mercedes, but that wasn't part of the purchase. The pilot happened to have a can of tennis balls in his luggage. Hunter played toss the ball to keep the dog occupied." Kurt replied. "And his leg down."

"No high mile stories?"

"No, Rachel, if they did. And we know it wouldn't be Dave and Santana. Hunter never said. And at least I never asked." Blaine said, "Speaking of which you either of you heard any news on the investigation? Or know how Santana is doing?"

"Haven't y'all heard? Santana is going back to work."

"Say what?"Blaine raised an eyebrow "She doesn't need to do that, does she?" he asked

"Paul is takin' a temporary leave of absence. Santana is steppin' in." Mercedes, knowingly replied, "Which, believe me, ain't goin' over well with some of the older VPs."

"What is she going to do with Fusion?" Kurt said, glancing over to his husband, "I know Tina stepped in to help until after the New Year?"

"She never said anything to you, Blaine?" Rachel asked.

"Uh ... No" Blaine shook his head "Not even in an email."

"Don't worry, Tina has become her unofficial assistant." Mercedes chuckled "It's all PM work to her. My girl does that in her sleep."

"Our amateur sleuths Mercedes and Quinn have put their gumshoes on to do a little investigation. Though their efforts haven't come up with anything but interesting theories." Rachel smiled as she spoke of the clandestine spying.

"That's right, we've been so busy since Christmas. Blaine's mother hobbling around after her ice incident. Then her surgery on her foot after the New Year. So, did Brett know anything? " Kurt asked.

"OK, but all three of you have to swear to confidentiality." Mercedes watched as Rachel zipped her fingers across her lips. Blaine crossed his heart. Kurt raised four digits, Blaine reaching over to bend his pinky finger over to the boy scouts hand oath. "Brett knows something about the vandalism."

"That's great news, Cedes. Have you told the police?" Blaine hunched over the table to be closer to hear.

"No, here's the thing, Brett did it. He was paid to vandalize the car." Mercedes spoke in a whisper.

But why haven't you taken that information to the police?" Blaine's astonished that vital evidence was being withheld from the police. "That's essential information. I mean, he might know something else?"

Mercedes let out a defeated sigh, "Yeah, well, he's got a room full of marijuana plants growing in his house. Plus, Dani's informants, tell her that the police are on the shady side. Whatever we report will get lost."

"OK, we find an honest one," Blaine replied, his natural optimism crept into his voice, "Lima has to have at least one. Jesse?"

"Jesse is a county sheriff. And that does give him jurisdiction. But, they tend to try to play nice with the city police. Same team and all. And to be honest, Jesse seems to be more interested in laying the blame on Santana or someone in the family." Rachel added, "At least it seemed that way when I spoke to him. He wasn't interested in the vandalism or the pictures."

"As far as I'm concerned, Brett couldn't have pulled the trigger." Kurt reiterated. "True, he may know something, but Brett's is not a murder, even accidentally."

"Believe it or not, I agree with you, Kurt." Mercedes replied, "Anyway, Brett mows the lawn at Adjacent. Over the summer, he befriended a guy, name of Amph. He seemed to know a lot about the weather. Looked like a quarterback. And asked questions about KEI and the house."

"What does look like a quarterback mean. They come in all shapes and sizes, among other things." Blaine asked.

"True, Sam, Spencer, and Finn were all quarterbacks in high school," Kurt replied.

"Yeah, we kinda dis'ed that comment too. Besides, Brittany got the idea to check the KEI employees who live at Adjacent or left the company."

"Anything useful, Mercedes?"

"We came up with four guys, three left for legit reasons. One was fired for stealin'. Two for personal reasons the fourth, a Mark Johnson, Jake remembers him, said he just quit."

"Mark Johnson, that name rings a bell," Blaine replied, closing his eyes to think.

"Aside from the sexual innuendo of a johnson? It's a generic name, Blaine. Probably a few in town, even more in the state." Kurt said.

"Brittany thought Amph could be a pilot. Or Amph could be an acronym. The girl likes word and math games. That could be her weird brain working overtime."

Blaine mumbled to himself, "Amph. Amph. AMF." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. "My uncle CJ was a radioman or something in the Navy. He'd served in Desert Storm. He'd tell Coop and me stories when we were little." He said as he typed on his phone. Within a few minutes, he showed those around the table his uncle's response, 'AMF – Adios Mother Fucker.'

"So, not a name. And not necessarily a pilot, but someone with military experience?" Rachel questioned.

"Or works at an airport," Mercedes answered.

Do Your Thing It Goes Like This

"Is Tia Britty coming over?" Zee asked as he maneuvered a submarine under his bathwater, holding it down to watch it pop back up when he let it go.

"Did she tell you could call her Britty?" Santana asked as she lifted Elle out of the water, standing her up on a towel she had on the floor, "Standup baby girl." Her hands near the baby's waist in case she went down. Elle stood protesting as her mother gently dried her off.

"Yep, She told me she liked it."

It's a little late for her to come over tonight. But she'll be here tomorrow for Valentine's Day. Is that ok?"

"I guess. Will Britty bring LT?"

Santana smile at the question, "Uh, no. I think LT has a date." Laying Elle down on dry towels to put her diaper on.

"Cats don't date, Mami! You're silly."

"How do you know they don't?" she asked, setting Elle up to crawl around the bathroom while she went over to Zee. Kicking the towels toward the tub so Elle wouldn't slip. "Come on, wash your hair" Santana squirted a dab of shampoo on Zee's head.

"Ah, that's cold!" he screamed. Putting his hands up to his head, rubbing the shampoo into his hair. Santana dabbed toothpaste into Elle's toothbrush to clean her 4 front teeth. Wiping the paste from her mouth with a cloth. "Are you done, Mijo?" Zee nodded. "Wait while I get Elle in her jammies. Then we'll rinse."

"Dottie is faster. Elle gets her own bath."

"Well, this is how it is tonight," Santana replied, slipping one of Elle's feet into her pink footed pajamas decorated with panda bears.

"Daddy could give me a bath. When he comes back." Zee replied, sliding down to the back end of the tub to retrieve a boat.

"Zee we talked about that, Daddy is in heaven. Baby, he's not coming back." Zipping the pajamas up.

"Yes, he is. Jesus came back," he challenged his mother.

"Mijo," she sighed. "Jesus lives in heaven. Where Daddy is." She explained in a calm voice. "Remember the story about the balloon?"

Zee lowered his head while he lined up his toys on the tub's edge, "Wash the soap out of my hair, Mami," he whimpered.

Santana stood over Elle's crib. Rubbing the infant's tummy, Elle giggled, "How can you be mine, you're always happy." Placing the pacifier in Elle's mouth, the baby immediately wrapping her mouth around it to suck. "How would you like your own room? Maybe we move you into the little office around the corner. You'd still be near me. Maybe we could put a rainbow on the wall or a unicorn?" with a playful laugh "Or a sloth, like Brooke. Would you like that?" she stopped rubbing Elle's tummy as she watched her daughter's eyes become heavy. "You dream about it. Ti amo."

Santana walked into Zee's room. She bit her bottom lip to not laugh. Zee's pajama selection for the night was Spiderman bottoms, a Buzz Lightyear top, around his neck hung a Batman cape. On impulse, she called his name, followed by a picture with her phone. "Come on, Mijo, into bed." Pulling down the Cars comforter and sheets. Zee climbed on to his bed. "No story tonight?" Santana asked as she stroked his damp hair.

Zee violently shook his head, "No, Nana said my books are wrong."

"You know something?" sitting down next to her son. Untying the cape from around his neck.

Zee responded with another shake of his head,

"Your Nana and I don't always agree." A cold shiver ran up Santana's spine. She'd spent parts of her day thinking about how to have this conversation. Another part hoping to avoid it. She wished Dave were here, she could pass the buck like they'd done with each other during Zee's why phase. "Um, people don't always agree, and that's OK." Wanting to illustrate her point, "Like when you and Christopher didn't agree at Christmas over your toys."

"But those were my toys. Christopher wasn't playing fair." Zee replied boldly.

"No, but he was your guest, so you should share. Otherwise, he won't want to share with you or invite you over to play."

"His toys are shit," Zee shouted.

"Hey, language." She immediately replied, using her stern mom voice.

The toddler mumbled, "Sorry."

Exhaling a breath, "Christopher's toys aren't bad. They're just different toys than what you have." Wrapping her arm around her son, drawing him closer.

"He doesn't have a Jeep or robot I do."

"That's right, he doesn't. Christopher likes football, soccer, and baseball. Except you both have bikes, Legos, and superheroes. So, you both have the same toys you like to play with and different toys too." She fairly explained.

"OK." He shrugged, understanding the simplicity of the comparison

A gasp of relief slipped past her lips, she continued, "It's like Nana, and I want you to have books, yet, we don't agree on what those books should be about. Nana wants you to have books that teach you about the Bible, where I want you to have books that cover diversity." A puzzled expression on her son's face, "Um ... diversity means people are different, but we shouldn't reject them because of those differences."

"The Bible is wrong?" he questioned

"Uh ... No. No. No. The Bible isn't wrong, it teaches us a lot about forgiveness and to love each other, but some of the things it says aren't relevant anymore." Another confused look on Zee's face, "Uh ... relevant, um, it means not connected to how we live now."

"How?"

"Uh, well, for example. Your Tio Kurt and Tio Blaine are both men or Tia Quinn, and Tia Rachel are both women, they loved each other enough that they married to create a family. And that's OK. But the Bible tells you that only a man and woman can marry to create a family. As Daddy and I did."

"Why?" he asked, confused by what he knew and what his Nana's book said.

"Uh, because it was a different time, where men and women had specific jobs in a family. And different beliefs about the world they lived in," she replied, feeling she was unqualified to explain the Bible. "Uh, the world was more dangerous. People didn't understand why things happened." She said cautiously, "The point I'm trying to make Mijo is that we love Kurt and Blaine and Quinn and Rachel because they're part of our family. And Jake, Rachel, and Puck are our family too, even though they worship differently than us. Same for Tina, Mercedes, and Mike, we love them also even though the color of their skin is different. And like Tio Jake, you're different too. I'm Hispanic, and your daddy was white, you're a mix of two races or cultures. Daddy and I didn't let that stop us from loving each other and making you and Elle." "Do you understand?"

"You and Daddy love each other." His voice concealed a need for validation.

"Yes, we did, Mijo." A lie she'd take to her grave for her children. Or a truth she'd deny until her last breath? No, this wasn't the time to dwell on regrets or lost opportunities. Someday, she'd have to make peace with her inner turmoil. "Now daddy is in heaven, and he would want me to find someone else to love as I loved him. And that person I love won't be a man, it will be a woman. Like Brittany."

"I'm not going to get a Daddy? Sean has two daddies."

Santana had to think for a minute, running down a mental list of parents she'd meet at Zee's daycare, "No, Mami won't marry another man like Sean's mama did."

Notes:

'100 Bad Days', Artist: AJR, Album: Neotheater (2019) Songwriters: Adam Brett Metzger / Jack Evan Metzger / Ryan Metzger

Depth of the river, more a guess.

The Bible contains abstract concepts of faith that a four-year-old may or may not understand. Narrowed it down to ideas that Zee would understand and what Santana wants to emphasize. Zee's understanding of the resurrection could be why he thinks Dave will come back, but releasing a balloon to the sky doesn't imply it returns to him. And the idea came from 'The Memory Box: A Book About Grief' (2017) – by Joanna Rowland (Author), Thea Baker (Illustrator)

Yes, I excluded body observation (i.e., Millie Rose or Lauren) or Artie's disability as examples. My choice was to stick with specific cultural differences that have been historically singled out.