"Say when."
After I shake the can of whipped cream, I pop the cap off the nozzle and squirt a huge mound of it in the middle of the perfectly round, yet-to-be-cut, absolutely delicious smelling, pumpkin pie from that bakery in Elida. Bailey watches as the pile of whipped cream gets bigger and bigger and I think she thinks that I'm going to want to stop putting it on top of the pie before she's ready for me to stop, but the joke is on her because I could eat whipped cream straight from the can without any pie present, so I'm certainly not going to object to having tons of it on top of our pie.
"I can keep going, I'm serious." My finger starts to tremble as I press down on the nozzle, but I'm grinning the same way Bailey's grinning right now.
"I like a lot of whipped cream," she shrugs and watches my hand as the whipped cream starts dripping over the sides of the pie tin. "Okay, okay. When."
I wipe the excess whipped cream off the nozzle with my finger and lick it off when I'm done. At long last, Bailey hands me a silver fork that clearly came from her house, then pushes the pie to the middle of the table. Before I dig in, I hold my fork out to hers and we clang them together as our own personal form of "cheers."
"So," she starts to talk through a mouth full of pie and whipped cream.
She has whipped cream dribbling out the sides of her mouth but it's just like a Saturday session with the way she doesn't care. Her hair is tied at the top of her head in a very neat bun and she wears an Ohio State hoodie with a pair of black leggings. I know Bailey's not my friend and I shouldn't think of her like that, but it kind of feels like I'm just hanging out with my best friend.
"What's new, Scooby Doo?" She digs another forkful of pie out the tin and holds it next to mouth. "Anything cool, new or exciting?"
"Beth called me 'Mama.'" I swallow my mouth full of pie so I can talk and lick my lips.
"She WHAT?!" Bailey puts her fork down and her jaw drops. "You're kidding! She's like, what? Nine months?!"
"Nine months yesterday." It feels good to not hold that in anymore. Rachel tried to talk to me about it on our way home from the festival but I didn't really want to talk about it in front of her dads and she understood that. But then we kind of just forgot to talk about it at all and I've been saving it to talk to Bailey about because I feel like she'll know what to say and do. "We took her to the fair in Columbus. I had to watch her on Saturday, remember?"
"I remember, yeah."
"Yeah, I had to watch her. So I just asked Shelby if I could take her to the fair with me and Rachel and she said we could. She was eating ice cream and she threw it all up so I had to leave and get napkins and as soon as I left, she reached for me and called me 'Mama.' It was so crazy."
"So how do you feel?" She reaches down and produces a bottle of ginger ale and two plastic cups that also clearly came from her house. She remembered that I love ginger ale. "When she said that, how did it make you feel? Was it cool? Or did you feel, like, guilty?"
"I guess a little bit of both." I shrug and turn my cup of ginger ale up to my mouth whenever she finishes pouring it. "It was really cool hearing her call me that because that's what I want to be. You know? I want to be her mama, I want her to know that I'm her mama, I want her to call me that. But then I started to feel weird about it because I think Shelby would be mad if she knew and I don't want to do anything that might make her mad and have her take me away from Beth."
"You think she'd do that?" Bailey sips her drink too. "I mean, deep down, do you really think Shelby would do that to you? And to Beth?"
"I don't know… I don't think so. But then I could see her getting really mad about it and acting on impulse. I could see both things happening, so I really don't know."
"Well I don't think she'd do that." Bailey shakes her head. "I don't know her, so don't take my word as the gospel truth or anything, but she seems fair. She seems like she's pretty good with letting you be involved and like she doesn't mind sharing Beth with you. She seems mature and levelheaded about the whole thing, I don't really see her taking Beth away from you."
"I guess I can't see that either. She really does only care about what's best for Beth and she's always really understanding. We have a good relationship, I think. We text a lot about Beth and she tries to keep me in the loop about everything. Like she tells me when Beth has appointments and stuff. It's kind of like… like coparenting in a way."
"Well let me ask you this," she picks her fork back up. "Whose idea was it to teach her to call you 'mama'? Was it Shelby's idea? Yours? Your mom's? Mercedes'?"
"That was all Rachel's doing. We sat there and ate ice cream and the whole time she's teaching Beth to call me 'Mama.' I almost told her to stop but then… I don't know, I didn't really want her to stop, I guess."
"Well that's okay. You have a natural affinity to want to be close to your baby, Quinn. You do. It's like, innate or something. It's inside all us mothers. Even though Beth isn't with you physically, she grew inside of you and she's with you in that sense. She always will be. You have this… instinct, almost. It makes you want to be with your baby. It's natural for you to want her to call you her mama, because you are her mama."
"I guess, but I just don't want her to do it in front of Shelby. Shelby's been so nice to me. She doesn't have to do anything that she does. I signed the papers, I signed all my rights away, and it's supposed to be a closed adoption… kind of. I don't know."
"Kind of?"
"I didn't know what I wanted. When I was pregnant with her, I didn't think I wanted to see her. I mean, I thought giving her up would be hard enough and I didn't want to get pictures every month seeing her because I thought that would hurt too bad. So… so I didn't like, get a counselor or anything. I think… I honestly think that I thought I was going to keep her. I told everyone I was giving her up for adoption but that didn't seem real. I think I thought that I was going to keep her all along or something. So I didn't contact an agency or anything and I didn't get a counselor. But then I had her and… and then I looked at her and I knew that I couldn't. Keep her, I mean. I knew that I couldn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I just knew that I couldn't give her what she deserved to have and… and I don't think I was in my right mind, Bailey. It's all this big blur of things that come back in spurts, like… like I remember looking at her after they took her off of me. They cleaned her up and took her to the nursery and I was okay enough to walk down and see her. And I looked at her through that glass and I was thinking. I was thinking about what it was going to be like when we got home. Like how my mom was gonna have to teach me to make bottles and change a diaper and how tired I was going to be coming home from school and stuff. Puck was there, too. He stood next to me and we said a few things that I don't really remember now, but I know he told me that he loved me. I don't remember what I said after that or what I did, I just… I remember looking at her. Looking at her and thinking that there was no way in HELL I could be the mom that she deserves to have. ...Then Shelby showed up. I don't even know why she was there, maybe she was just there for support or something, I don't know. But she showed up and then… it felt right, I guess. For the first time, I felt like everything was okay. Like it was fate or something that brought her there. And sometimes I think about that when I'm holding her. When I'm holding her and I'm thinking — really thinking — that I could do this. I could go to school and be a mom and be really, really good for Beth. I hold her and I think about how it felt in the hospital when Shelby stood by me and told me she looked like me. How I felt like everything was going to be okay…" I'm so surprised I didn't cry at all during this big long monologue I just gave her. "I may have had her, Bailey. I may have given birth to her and carried her for eight and a half months, but Shelby was always meant to be her mom. I believe that."
Bailey looks me in my eye and says absolutely nothing which is sometimes more powerful than saying anything at all. This is why I like Bailey as much as I do. I didn't think I could like another therapist as much as I liked Jessica, but I think Bailey has officially taken her place and I've started finding myself wishing that I don't get any better so I never have to stop seeing her.
She reaches across the table and lays her hand on top of my hand, which is again, more powerful than saying anything. I was so mean to her when I first started seeing her. I made fun of how skinny she is when deep down, she's recovering from an eating disorder. I picked out the fact that she has gray in her hair but now I see that it's a style choice and the gray is actually highlights which totally look great on her. I was so mean. I wish I could take it all back.
"I think you should talk to Shelby." She rubs her thumb against my knuckles for a few seconds then pulls her hand away. "I think you should talk to her and let her know what Rachel encouraged Beth to call you. Let her know that while you feel like 'Mama' may be an inappropriate title, you do need a title because her calling you 'Quinn' is also inappropriate. Let her know so that you two can come up with a title for Beth to call you together. That sound good?"
"This is exactly why I waited to talk to you about this, because I knew you'd have the answers." Now that I've gotten that whole "Beth calling me 'Mama'" thing off of my chest, I can actually dig into the pie again. So I pick up my fork and dive back in.
"Happy to do my job and help," she grins. "Anything else you waited to talk to me about? Or can we start talking about how your Thanksgiving went?"
"Yeah, one more thing," I chew the big bite of pie I put in my mouth because if I keep talking with it full like that, I'm going to spit all over everything. "It's gonna sound weird, but don't judge me. Okay?"
"When do I ever judge you? If I was gonna judge you, I'd have done it when you told me you took LSD at a party."
"Shut up," I roll my eyes at her but it's all playful and again, I know I should think this way. But she totally feels like my best friend. I wish I had known her when she was in high school. I wish she was a few years younger and in school with me so we could hang out on the weekends. Rachel and Mercedes and Santana would love her. She'd be in our group for sure.
"I'm just saying," she rolls her eyes back, more dramatically than I rolled mine. "You know I don't judge. Just spill and we'll see what I come up with."
"So me and Rachel have sex. I told you that, right?" I wash my pie down with a sip of ginger ale.
"You may have mentioned it once or twice." She finally flips open her notebook, which is the one thing that reminds me that she is my therapist and not my friend. "Something wrong with the sex, though?"
"Not really. I mean… yeah, I guess. I didn't think there was something wrong with it, but Rachel thinks there is."
"So what's the problem? Step into my office, I'm a 28-year-old sex expert. A sexpert, if you will." She mumbles as she writes, which makes me laugh.
"Rachel thinks that I won't let her touch me. Which… I guess is true. I feel weird sometimes when she touches me. But only if it's off guard or random."
"What happens when it's not off guard or random?"
"Well, I can usually talk myself into it. Like if we're having sex and I know that she's about to touch me somewhere, I can just get into my head and tell myself that it's okay and talk myself into shutting off my brain long enough to enjoy it. But if it's random and she catches me off guard, I didn't have time to convince myself to just let go. And I feel weird about it and I get weird about it and she just notices and gets a little… mad. Because she thinks it's her."
"What do you mean by 'weird?' Do you like, panic? Get cold sweats? Nauseous? Black out? Dissociate? Define weird for me."
"It's not really anything like that. I just get like, stiff. I get stiff and make up some excuse about why she has to stop touching me. Like… like the other day. The day before yesterday, we did it. In my car. And then she went to touch me and I made this weird noise and then she touched me again and I told her that I had to go home. And I guess it happens a lot. I guess it's something that I've done a lot because Rachel got mad and thought that I was trying to say that she disgusted me or something."
"When you get weird like this…" her voice trails off as she writes one more word, then puts down her pencil. "Sorry, I was taking notes. But anyway, when you get weird like this, do you notice if your stomach gets sick? Or is it mostly just a very physical reaction? Like, does Rachel's touch make you uncomfortable? Is the act of her physically touching you making you recoil? Or do you notice some physiological changes as well? Like a stomachache or a headache?"
"Not really. It just makes me get stiff and push her away. I don't ever really feel sick about it, I just feel like… like I don't want her to do it, almost. But I do want her to do it. In my mind I want her to do it but my body gets like… frozen or something."
"Does it happen when she touches you everywhere? Or only when she's touching your privates?"
"Only privates. I can kiss her fine and she can touch my neck or my arms or my back or my thighs or my face. But anywhere else, it just makes me lock up."
"Does it happen more when she's touching your boobs? Or more when she's touching your hoo-ha?"
"Really…?" I feel my cheeks get hotter as they blush bright red. "Do I have to answer?"
"Quinn, stop it. I'm not worried about what you and Rachel do in the bedroom, I just need to know which one elicits a more physical response from you. The tits or the crotch?"
"The crotch, obviously. I feel like you already knew that, you just wanted to hear me say it!"
"...Maybe slightly." She giggles and tucks some of her hair behind her ears. "But it sounds like you're just having a physical reaction to the rape, which is normal. Your body went through something traumatic. I read your file the night before I met you and Jessica included some very… graphic details of what happened to you and it sounded like you were pretty… um… it sounded like it was brutal, to say the least."
"She included everything…?"
"Everything that you told her, and everything that I needed to know." She pulls my file from the stack of papers it was hiding under. "...I think it might help you if we looked through it a bit and really unpacked some of the things in the details. Only if you feel ready for it, though."
"I'll never be ready."
"Then I won't share it with you yet. It's not my goal to re-traumatize you, Quinn. I just… want to help see you through it."
"...What does it say? Does it talk about… about the…" I tried to push that out of my head. I tried really hard to push that out. I talked about it with Jessica and I swore that I would never talk about it again or even think about it again. Yet here I am… "The blood?"
"We're not gonna get into it today, okay? We'll get into it when you're ready. What's important is that you understand that your body went through something very traumatic and from the details I got, it was extremely brutal and you're working through that. So when Rachel touches you, it elicits a very physical response because —"
"It's true, you know." I bite the inside of my bottom lip on purpose. I feel okay. Maybe we don't have to talk about all of it today, but we can talk about some of it. "What it says in there about the blood. It's true. I wouldn't lie about that."
"I would never think —"
"It's one of the things that sticks out in my memory so clear. I… I remember bits and pieces of that night every now and again but the one thing that I can't forget is the blood. There was so much blood and I thought… I thought that I had started my period. I got up and… I got up put my skirt back on and when I looked at the bed, it was there. And he was cleaning it up like… like maybe he didn't care? Or… or it's happened before? I don't know? I just heard him taking the sheets off his bed and I turned around and it was there. It was there and it was… it was a lot. I mean not a lot. It wasn't like… like a puddle or anything, but it was… a lot. A few drips that were all the size of like… quarters. And they were all the same size, that's weird, but they were. And it was all in a straight line. Where I was laying, it was all right there. And I saw it and then I felt it. It made my legs all sticky and I thought I started my period, because that's the only reason I should be bleeding from there. But then it hurt. I mean, it really hurt. I took a shower and it hurt. The internet told me that it's normal to get scrapes down there and in there if your body isn't lubricated enough. The blogs I read said to just keep it dry down there and the scrapes would heal on their own."
"I'm proud of you." She smiles at me softly, like maybe she doesn't know what to say to what I just told her and that's okay. I wasn't really looking for her to say anything, really. I just wanted to share that with her, that's all. "That's not an easy thing to sit here and recollect and you're doing it without shedding a single tear. I'm so proud of you."
"Mercedes thinks I use Beth to dullen how horrific what Puck did to me was… do you think I do?"
"Do you think you do?"
"Maybe," I shrug. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it anymore. Being angry is exhausting. And being angry feels like I hate that Beth is here, which I don't. How could it be so horrible…? Him raping me? How could it be so horrible if I got a baby out of it?"
"It's possible to feel both ways at the same time. It's not a straight line, it's not —"
"Do you believe in fate?"
"I do, a little. Why?"
"I was raised Catholic, so. You know. I was raised to believe that God has a plan. And what if was fate? Puck raping me is how I got Beth, so what if it was fate? And all part of God's plan? What if I should… should be like… thanking him? Because if he never raped me, I'd never have my baby and I wouldn't trade her for the world."
"Quinn. Look at me." She leans across the table so that our eyes are completely locked and it's super intense and I want to look away. "I am not about to let you take back all the steps you've made. You know deep down in your heart and in your mind that what happened between you and that boy was WRONG. It was not part of God's plan and it was not fate. Beth is something beautiful that came out of something heinous but that doesn't change the fact that it was heinous. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, but the tunnel was dark and the tunnel was horrible and the tunnel was not something you EVER should have had to go through. Do not, do not, do NOT rationalize any of his actions. I need you to get those thoughts out of your head RIGHT NOW."
I look away from her eyes finally, and just put my head down and nod. I know she's right. I know she is. But I'm just having the hardest time wrapping myself around all of this. I know that hating Puck doesn't have to mean that I hate Beth. But how doesn't this make me weak? I know what he did to me was wrong and he ruined my life. Really, he did. That one night changed so much for me and so many things fell apart after it. But how can I give one person the control to do that? How does that not make me weak? I wish I could just get over this already. Every time I feel like I'm going to be okay again, something just dredges it up and I feel like a crazy person all over again. I just want this to be gone. I want them to strap me to a table and shock my brain until I forget.
"...So," I sigh and put my chin down on the desk because I've given myself a slight headache now. I drum my fingers along the desk and inhale the scent of the pumpkin pie. "Any suggestions on how to break my body of not wanting to be touched? I just want to let my girlfriend touch me without locking up. I just want to have normal sex with my girlfriend."
"Well…" She opens her notebook once again. "I'm gonna put a note here for when you see the psychiatrist again in two weeks. It might be something she can take care of by upping your meds. It's a physical response, so you just need to relax and that's something meds can help you with. But in the meantime… and I know this is going to sound weird, okay? I know. But bear with me. This is my professional recommendation and I wouldn't suggest it unless I actually think it would help. Believe me. I don't just go around suggesting this to every minor I work with."
"I'll try anything. I just don't want Rachel to think I don't want to sleep with her anymore, and I really don't want to have a conversation about why she can't touch me because I was raped so bad bled. I just need it to go away and stop happening. I'm desperate, Bail. I'll try anything."
"You should try touching yourself."
"You want me to MASTURBATE?!" I pick my head up so fast that my headache intensified and I feel like my head is going to fly off. "You're suggesting that I masturabte?!"
"That's NOT what I said!" She puts her palm against her forehead and shakes her head in embarrassment. "I mean, yeah that's what I said but that's not what I meant!"
"I'm not masturbating! I'm NOT! I live in a house with three other people! Four right now, because the brother's home. Plus two dogs! I'm not masturbating! That's just… it's… EW!"
"I didn't mean it that way! God, Quinn! Chill out!" She keeps her palm against her forehead and a smile breaks across her face. "And even if I did mean it that way, so what?! All girls do it! It's just not as widely talked about as men, it's not gross!"
"Look, listen. I don't care HOW you meant it, I'm not touching myself. I'll take my chances with the medicine, I'm not touching myself."
"You wanted my suggestion! You asked for my suggestion! And now you're gonna mock it?!"
"I'm not mocking it, I'm just… I wouldn't even… I don't do that. I'm sure a lot of women do but I don't. I don't do that." I shake my head. "I just don't."
"Well it's a good thing I wasn't talking about masturbating, now isn't it?" She finally takes her palm off her forehead and shakes her head at me a little more. "I'm talking about just touching your body. It doesn't have to be sexual, it doesn't have to be masturabting. I'm just saying to touch yourself. While you're in the shower or before you fall asleep at night, just run your fingers along your body. Maybe start at your shoulders then work your way down to your torso. Then back up to your chest. Then back down to your hips. Then up to your chest again." She demonstrates by doing it to herself and it looks really freaking weird, I'm not gonna lie. "Then you can go down to your pelvis and your vagina if you're comfortable. And that's just gonna get your body used to touches. It's gonna get your body used to knowing the difference between good touches and bad touches. It's gonna release all that anxiety. When you touch your chest and your vagina, you'll tense up like you do when Rachel does it. But you're just training your body to know that it's okay and it's a good touch. And if you get comfortable and it extends to actual masturbation, then that's fine. It's all about getting to know your body and getting to know what feels good for you so that you can extend that knowledge to Rachel and sex can be more healthy and enjoyable for you."
"So… you want me to masturbate." I close my eyes and my cheeks blush again. "Your homework to me is to try masturbating?"
"Those are not my exact words, but I do think that it could be healthy for you. I don't knock it, I don't shame it. Whatever you wanna do, Q. Whatever you wanna do."
"Isn't it weird, though? Like just laying there and like… you know… screwing yourself?"
"I think it's beautiful. Why should your body be a stranger to you? And how do you expect someone to know what pleases you if you don't know what pleases you? Everyone does it, Quinn. You're the outlier here."
"Well I never thought about it! It's not something that's ever crossed my mind!" How is she NOT my best friend? We're sitting here talking about masturbation. She has to be my best friend. I've never even talked to Mercedes about this stuff. "I mean… I guess if you do it then it's not… so bad…?"
"Everyone does it and those who tell you they don't are probably lying." She closes her eyes and shakes her head like she's tired of me or something. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, Quinn. I just don't know."
"Well you could tell me how your Thanksgiving was? Since we're straying off course a bit." I suggest.
"My Thanksgiving was great, thanks for asking. I sat on the couch and got ridiculously drunk with my best friend and when I got up to come here, I was extremely hungover."
Why did that kind of make me sad? She has someone that she gets drunk with. Why do I kind of wish that was me? She has friends. I'm not her friend. I kind of want to be her best friend that she gets drunk with. God, why do I think like this?
"Well I admire you for doing this with a hangover." I say. "You could have cancelled if you were that hungover, though.
"And miss eating pumpkin pie and talking about female self love with my favorite client? No thanks. She laughs. "How was yours? I've been dying to ask but we just kinda… went off subject a little."
"Well actually… I'm glad we have a session today because mine was extremely eventful and I need to tell you all about it."
"Well, I'm all ears and I'm all yours for the next 30 minutes, so. Lay it on me."
"So… I met my new grandmother first…"
I thought that I was going to feel out of place, but I didn't.
Luckily for me, Beth pooped a few minutes before the doorbell rang, so I took advantage of taking her upstairs to change her. I laid her on my bed and wiped her from front to back and listened to her jabber at my phone, which I let her hold to keep her occupied while I changed her. The doorbell rang seconds after I strapped her clean diaper back on her, but I decided to stay where I was for a few minutes because I was nervous to go down and meet everyone.
I sat on my bed with Beth on my lap and listened to the laughter coming from downstairs and I got a little bit sad because I wished I were home. I wished that Judy was burning the turkey and Russel was yelling at a football game in between texts to his mistress. I wished that I wouldn't have had to put on cute clothes and wished that I wasn't about to be the only white girl in a room full of people who are better than everyone I grew up with. I wished I wasn't about to feel very out of place.
Beth got a little restless, so I knew that it was time for me to stop hiding and time for me to start meeting people. I looked in my mirror and fixed my outfit. Beth wore a brown overall dress with a turkey in the middle of it over a plain white turtleneck. I put her white tights on her and Shelby packed brown moccasins to go with everything, plus a matching sparkly brown bow. I wanted to match her, so I put on a brown dress with white tights too, and my moccasins are the same as hers. I even tied a white bow in my hair.
Once I was sure that we both looked presentable, I headed for the steps and took a few deep breaths.
Everyone was in the dining room, crowded around the table that Mom had just set. They were still taking off their coats and giving everyone hugs and telling Mykel that he's getting beefier. I watched from the living room unnoticed for a moment, wishing that I had that. I couldn't remember the last time I saw my Grammy. It was probably at Frannie's high school graduation, years ago. She never flew in for Thanksgiving and hardly ever called. My mom and her mom just weren't all that close and I could forget about ever meeting my aunts and uncles. I wished I had a family as close as theirs.
"Yeah, she here." I heard Mom talking to someone that I couldn't see. "She upstairs changing the baby, she'll be down. I can't wait for y'all to meet her."
"So you and Jared are adopting her or what? Or is she just saying here?" The person she was talking to replied.
"She staying here for a little. Hopefully forever. Her parents is crazy. They some complete psychos, I'm telling you."
"Is she a good kid?"
"She's the best kid, Ma. She get real shy though so if she ain't talkin' to you, it ain't disrespectful. She just ain't much of a talker 'round new people but she a good girl. I'm telling you, I love her to death."
That made me feel a little bit better when I heard Mom say that, but not good enough to leave where I was standing and go over to people.
"Aww, 'Cedes! Your hair's gettin' so long and pretty!" A short, heavy-set woman with curly shoulder-length hair and round glasses ran her fingers through Mercedes' hair and Mercedes smiled at her. "Look at you, my pretty thing."
"Good to see you too, Aunt Reenie." Mercedes hugged her and when she did, she looked back and saw me standing in the living room.
She waved her hand at me to tell me to join them, but I just shook my head slowly and I knew she understood that I was nervous. I knew she understood, because she went and tapped Mom. I held onto Beth like she was my lifeline and I felt like the whole world around me was shrinking and I was still standing as tall as can be.
Mom wriggled out of a hug and told the woman she was hugging that she'd be right back. The woman unbuttoned her coat and took off her hat, then started to sit down and I wondered which aunt she was. She looked like Mom and like the one Mercedes called Aunt Reenie. She had their same copper skin color and round eyes. Her lips, wide and full, were painted with smooth red lipstick and her eyeshadow matched. She seemed regal and very classy and I decided that she was someone Judy would have liked.
"Hey y'all," Mom made her way over to me and Beth and put her arm around us which made me hold my breath. "Y'all, this our daughter, Quinn. This is my girl. And this is her baby, little Beth."
Everyone stopped and looked at me, which made me want to run and hide. I tried to familiarize myself with everyone. There was the classy looking one with the red lipstick, the short one with the glasses, and then there were three kids. One of them was me and Mercedes' age, and I thought she was gorgeous. She had long, straight black hair and the most flawless skin I've ever seen. The other one was probably a year or two younger and she wore her hair in rows of neat braids. The third one was a little boy no older than ten, and I didn't get a good look at him because his face was buried in an iPad.
"Quinn, this is everyone," Mom rubbed my shoulder like she could sense that I was nervous, then started to point. "That's my mama, your Nana. And that's my sister, Maureen but we call her Reenie. And them is her kids. That's Tatiana, that's Tiana, and that's Torrence but we call him little TJ."
I had them all straightened out as soon as she introduced them. Nana was the classy looking one, Aunt Reenie had the glasses. Tatiana was the gorgeous one, Tiana had the braids and TJ was playing with the iPad. It was simple, really.
I lifted my hand and said, "hi."
"How'd you feel when Patrice introduced you as her daughter? The way you say it, it sounds like she said it like she was proud or something. But how did it make you feel?" Bailey interrupts me to ask me.
"Um… I guess at first it made me a little sad because I did miss my mom. My other mom, Judy. I missed her and I wished it was her calling me her daughter. But then I thought about it and it made me feel really good actually. It made me feel like I was supposed to be there, kind of. It made me feel less awkward." I explain.
"Did you feel like everybody accepted you? It's one thing for her to just say that you're their daughter, but did everyone make you feel like you were? Did you feel like you were treated better, worse or about the same as they treated Jared and Patrice's natural children?"
"...About the same, I guess. Maybe even better? They kind of went out of their way to make sure I felt included and that was nice."
"Why would you say they treated you better? What was different about the way they treated you?"
"Well at dinner…"
I ended up sitting at the end of the table, with Mercedes on my left and Nana at the head of the table to my right. Beth stayed on my lap the entire time and kept yawning, which I figured would happen since she hadn't taken her afternoon nap. She was quiet and content even though she was sleepy, and she spent the majority of her time just watching everyone pass the food dishes back and forth with her mouth hanging open.
There was mood food in the middle of the table than I have ever seen in my life, and it all smelled amazing. Steam from the multiple dishes spiraled up into the air and made the entire dining room smell like heaven. Everyone had their plates in front of them, and arms were crossing each other to scoop servings onto them. I had no idea where to start, and I was the only one at the table with a totally empty plate.
"Just grab something," Mercedes mumbled to me under her breath. She knew I was nervous but she didn't have time to cater to me, which I understood. I wanted to tell her that I didn't know what to grab or where to start but I kept my mouth shut instead.
"Quinn, you gonna let the baby eat off you or you want me to grab a smaller plate for her?" Mom asked as she shook the pepper shaker over her full plate.
"She can eat off me." I started off modest, only stabbing a buttered dinner roll with my fork.
"Tell me you're gonna eat more than that, child." The one we call Aunt Reenie glanced at my plate. "All this food here and you're gonna get some bread?"
"I kinda… can't like… get up or reach over." I tried to lean forward to grab a serving spoon with Beth on my lap to let them see how it didn't work out very well.
"Here, lemme take her." Mercedes leans over and picks Beth up from my lap and to my surprise, Beth just kinda lets her. She does turn her entire body to make herself aware of where I am and make sure that I don't leave, but she doesn't whine or anything.
"Here baby, I'll get your plate." Mom stood up and reached across the table to grab it. "You tell me what you want."
"You can give me everything." I shrugged my shoulders and watched as she piled everything in the long line of food onto my plate.
"You want ham, chicken, turkey or all three?"
"Might as well get all three."
"Gravy on the chicken and the turkey or what?"
"Yep. And on the mashed potatoes, too. I think Beth likes gravy. She'll eat it. She eats anything." Mom handed my plate back to me when she was done making it and I was able to settle in and sit back down before I took Beth back. "Come to think of it… I don't think I've ever seen her turn her nose up to something."
Mercedes handed her back to me and her chubby little hand immediately reached for my plate. Maybe I would have let her go for whatever it was that she wanted if everyone around the table wasn't bowing their heads, but they were so I grabbed her hand, put it down and bowed my head too.
"Father God, we ask you to bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies and keep your arms around everyone in this room as we enjoy our time as a family. We ask you to extend your protection to everyone as we travel back to our destinations tonight and keep your arms around us as we return home. In Jesus name, we pray. Amen." Nana said the prayer over the food and it made me think about my Grammy because she was the one who said the prayer over the food too.
When it was all said and done, everyone picked up their forks and started eating and I opted to feed Beth first since she seemed hungry. I lifted a small pile of mashed potatoes up with my fork and dipped them into the puddle of gravy stuck in the middle before I held the fork to her mouth. And it wasn't surprising at all when she wrapped her lips around the fork and ate them.
"Try giving her some turkey." Dad had a mouth full of food when he spoke but somehow it still came out clearly. "See if she likes turkey."
"She eats everything, I already know she'll like turkey." I ripped a piece of turkey off with my fingers and held it by her mouth. She looked at it for a second, then opened her lips and took my entire thumb and index finger into her mouth. Everyone — and I do mean everyone — at the table said "aww!" at the same time and it made me smile. "See? I told you. She eats anything."
"How old is she?" Nana leaned forward so she could look at her a little bit better.
"She's nine months today." I replied.
"Let's see if she likes sweet potatoes…" Mercedes piled some onto my fork and held them to Beth's mouth next. When Beth ate those, her face wrinkled a little bit as she rubbed her lips together and she looked like maybe she was unsure about them. "Oooh, I don't know… sweet potatoes may not be a hit."
"Do you not like sweet potatoes, baby? No sweet potatoes?" I wiped her mouth with my thumb then wiped it on the side of my dress. Just to test my theory, I held another forkful of sweet potatoes to her mouth and she looked at them, then turned her head. "Sweet potatoes are a no. Which is weird because she likes sweet potato baby food."
"That's exactly how Patrice was when she was a baby." Nana chewed her food loudly, which I thought was pretty funny since she seemed like such a regal woman. "When it came time to wean her off that baby food, she didn't want anything to do with real food. I'd give her baby food green beans, she'd tear it up. Then tried to give her regular green beans, nope."
I kept feeding Beth mouthfuls of mashed potatoes since I knew those were safe and something that she liked, and I tried to stop feeling sad but I couldn't help it. My own family would have loved to see Beth. They would have loved to pass her around and kiss her cheeks and watch her eat off my plate. She could have been around people who look like her and I couldn't stop feeling sad for her. I thought about how she's going to grow up in a household and around a family where nobody looks like her. I just thought that was sad.
"Quinn, Jared and 'Trice told us you like to sing," Aunt Reenie spoke from the other end of the table. "You gonna be competition for karaoke later? 'Cause I'm telling you, we got some singers in this family. You can't be no weak link."
"Well you guys are probably gonna wipe the floor with me, because I'm not that great." I laughed, but I was just being honest. If the singers in their family were anything like Mercedes and Mom, I didn't stand a single chance.
"What do you think, 'Trice? She any good or is she just being shy?" Aunt Reenie asked Mom next.
"I ain't never heard the child sing. She don't sing around us, at least. You gotta ask 'Cedes." Mom nodded towards Mercedes, who had a mouth full of chicken.
"She's really good," Mercedes smiled after she swallowed. "She has a nice tone and a really low register. I think it's pretty. She'll hold her own."
"Yeah, no I won't." I shook my head. "I'm not a belter or anything. I don't do anything special with my voice. I just sing and hope it sounds okay. I'm a better dancer. I swear I'm a good dancer."
"She's not lying about that!" Mercedes vouched for me. "She can bust a serious move. She's like, one of the better dancers in Glee club."
"Who are the best singers?" The older cousin — Tatiana I think her name is — spoke for the first time and I thought that her voice was as pretty as she was. "You're one of the best singers, aren't you, 'Cedes?"
"Her and Rachel go back and forth on that." I spoke up because I knew that Mercedes didn't want to say anything for fear of offending me. "It's like some days, it's definitely Mercedes. Then other days, Rachel edges her out. So it's really hard to say who's the best. Personally, I think Mercedes is a little bit better, but you can just tell that Rachel's trained. It's like… Mercedes has soul. Her voice is more soulful but Rachel's is like… it's beautiful and it's trained."
"She's like a robot." Mercedes mumbled and bullied a piece of chicken across her plate and into the gravy. "She can sing anything and it sounds good."
"Yeah, but so can you." I bumped her with my elbow to let her know that she needed to pick her head up.
"Well we can see just how good Rachel really is later." Mom said and everyone turned their heads and looked at her. "When we do karaoke."
"Wait, you know her?" Tatiana seemed very interested suddenly.
"She's Quinn's girlfriend," Mercedes mumbled again.
"Well that's all fucked up," Aunt Reenie said and everybody laughed.
Even I laughed.
"Was it weird to hear everybody talk about Rachel?" Bailey asks as she starts to clean up the nearly-empty pie tin and the ginger ale.
"Yes and no. Yes because it still felt weird and like her and Mercedes were still in a fight. But no because I knew that they were just joking and they would never actually be mean to Rachel. I wouldn't have let Rachel come over if I thought that they were going to be seriously mean to her. I wouldn't invite her some place where she wasn't going to be respected."
"Nobody said anything when Mercedes casually mentioned she was your girlfriend?"
"No, which surprised me. Nobody said a thing. They just accepted it and moved on. It was like Mercedes said she was my boyfriend. It was such a non factor."
"So what happened next? How did karaoke go?"
"Well, before karaoke and trivia started, something else happened…"
Beth fell asleep shortly after dinner, which I knew she was going to. I looked at the clock a few minutes before she fell asleep and I was surprised to see that it was only 2:30 because it felt so much later than that. I was starting to get the hang of what Mercedes meant when she said that everyone eats in rounds. I thought that dinner was just one main event but when you finish eating at 2:30 and you have the rest of the evening ahead of you, it's easy to see how you'd go back for round two.
Mykel left to go pick up the girl named Bianca, so Sam came first, which I thought was weird. I didn't think it was weird that he came first or weird that he came at all, but it's just weird seeing him here and not in Glee club. It's weird to know that he's Mercedes' boyfriend and he's in my house for that reason and I wondered if maybe that's how Mercedes felt about Rachel.
I sat on the couch and rocked Beth from side to side so she could fall into a deep sleep, deep enough that I could lay her down without her waking up. I rocked Beth and Sam came into the living room with Mercedes and told me "hola", which still made me feel weird. It felt like she was supposed to be in Glee club, not here.
Mykel came back next, and he had his friend with benefits with him. She was pretty, I thought. She had long brown hair and caramel skin. She was taller than him with heels on, which I thought was funny, but it's not that hard to be taller than Mykel. He's only about 5'10, compared to Dad's 6'3.
I figured that dinner with Shelby and her dads probably ran a little long, because Rachel wasn't there yet and Beth still was. I took it as a good sign. If it was running long, it meant that nothing bad happened and everything was okay. It meant that Rachel's worries were for no reason.
I started to get up to put Beth down on the couch so she could get a good nap in without me holding her, but the doorbell rang as soon as I stood up. I knew it was either Rachel, Shelby or both of them, so I walked into the hallway and grabbed the door myself.
But it wasn't Rachel or Shelby at the door. And I wished it was because dealing with either one of them would have been way easier than dealing with who it actually was.
"Frannie…" I felt the world stop spinning beneath my feet. It was almost like a moment in a TV show, how the camera spins around really fast and the main character backs away and holds her head? It was like that when I saw her. She stood in front of me in the expensive gray Calvin Klein coat that dad bought her last Christmas. Her hair was straight and dark brown and the same shoulder-length as mine, eyes crystalline underneath the natural sunlight. Her makeup was flawless and she looked… older.
"What are you doing here?" I sounded like an idiot when I asked her that but I couldn't help it. I held Beth tighter as if she was the only thing anchoring me to the ground.
"I told you I was going to drop by and see you, didn't I?" She adjusted her expensive designer purse on her shoulder and looked behind me like she was trying to see something. "Are you here alone? Where is everyone?"
"I'm… no," I shook my head and tried to choke down the vomit that felt like it was rising up in the back of my throat. "Everyone's in there, I… Frannie, you can't be here."
"Well, I didn't want to just drop by but you wouldn't answer any of my texts so I had to ask Mom and Dad where you were." She looked me in my eyes and I couldn't bear to look her in hers. "I missed you, Luce. I told you I wanted to come see you."
"Well you…" I sighed and looked behind me because I wouldn't have felt right if I just turned her away at that point. But I really didn't think she needed to be there… "I'll come see you later, okay? Now you have to go. Now."
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me." She tilted her head. "Are they abusing you here? What kind of people won't let you talk to your sister?"
"No! Frannie, no! I just… I don't want you here. You can't be here." I was suddenly hyper aware that I had Beth in my arms and I felt lucky that my sister wasn't really paying attention to her. I wasn't ready for her to meet Beth just yet. I wasn't ready to see her. She shouldn't have forced this. "Please just go. I'll come by the house later, I'll come see you later. But please don't do this here. Please just go."
"Lucy, why won't you talk to me? What's going on?" She put her hand on my shoulder. "Quinn?"
"...I don't want to talk to you." I whispered and in that moment, I knew that I was successful in getting her to go away. She adjusted the grip on her purse and took a step backwards, away from me.
But as soon as she did that, her eyes fell down to the baby in my arms and I knew that it was over…
"Oh my god…" She whispered and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. Her jaw started to tremble and I knew that as soon as she laid eyes on Beth, she would know who she was. It's hard not to know. She has my exact face. "Oh my god… Can I hold her?"
"Frannie, I…" I turned away from her with Beth in my arms because for some reason, Frannie asking me to hold her made me feel weirdly protective. But then I looked at the tears rolling down my sister's cheeks and I couldn't say no. "...Come upstairs."
I stepped aside and let Frannie follow me into the house, grateful that nobody could see us go up the stairs from the angle of the living room. Once me and Frannie were both inside my bedroom, I shut and locked the door and motioned for her to sit down on my messy, unmade bed.
"You can't just show up like this, okay? I was gonna text you back. I was gonna text you after everything settled down here, I swear. But you cannot just show up here, I have rules. I have rules to follow and I haven't even asked them if you could be here. I have to respect their house, do you get it? I have to. I don't want them kicking me out, I —"
"I'm your sister, Lucy. I'm not some stranger, why would you have to ask permission to talk to me?" She crossed her legs and started taking her coat off. "I've been worried about you, I just came to see you. And… and meet my niece, I guess."
"Her name's Beth," I stepped a little closer and started to shift Beth from my arms to hers. "Her adoptive mom is letting me spend Thanksgiving with her for a few hours."
"She's beautiful…" She stroked her finger across Beth's cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "She looks just like mom… and me, too. Mostly like you. But I see me and mom…" She sniveled and wiped her tears with her shoulder. "She has dad's hairline. And your little lips. Why is she so pretty?"
"I ask myself that all the time," I laughed and sat down next to her. It felt surreal watching my sister hold my baby. I wished Beth was awake because I would have really liked for her to meet her aunt. "You know she's nine months old today?"
"I did know, actually." She rubbed Beth's hands and studied the way her little fingers curled. "You know, I… I have a blog for her."
"A blog…?"
"Yeah, I made a tumblr. I fill it with posts and pictures and letters to her. It's mostly just stuff about you, and the kind of kid you were growing up. But letters, too. Letters about life and love and… how much we all loved her before we even knew her. I'm gonna give her the password when she turns 18."
"You did that…?" I felt like I was about to burst into tears. "You did that for her?"
"You don't know how bad I wanted you to keep her, Luce." She kissed Beth's forehead again and I put my head on her shoulder. Me Frannie had drifted apart over the last few years, but I did miss her. We were the best of friends before she moved away. "You could've broken the cycle with her."
"I did though, Fran." I kept my head on her shoulder, but I turned it so I could look her in the eye. "She has a really good life. Shelby's amazing to her and she lets me be involved. The cycle's broken. She's not a Fabray."
Frannie turned her head too and kissed my forehead like I was Beth. She rested her cheek against mine and I felt wholesome for a moment, just sitting there on my bed while my sister held my baby and me.
"I'm sorry I don't come home more," she whispered to me. "It's just hard to come back once you get out. You'll understand when you go to college."
"How's Mom and Dad?" I asked.
"They're fine. Better, actually. Dad's back home, but you knew that. Mom seems happier. He's… he's different now. He seems a lot more… mellow. They seem like they're doing really good, actually." She rubbed my shoulder and I picked my head up.
"Yeah, without me." I sighed and laid down flat on my bed. "Who would've guessed that I was the problem? Funny how it took me leaving for them to get better, isn't it? Now I couldn't go home even if I wanted to."
"That's what I came to talk to you about, actually." She held Beth in her arms very securely and turned to face me. "I was wondering if you wanted to come stay with me."
"In Massachusetts?" I didn't think she was serious at first.
"Yeah. I'm graduating next semester and me and Kevin are getting our own house. There will be all the room in the world for you and I'll take care of you. You could go to Harvard, too. Or some other college if you didn't want to go Ivy League, there's a ton of good colleges in the state."
"And leave my friends?"
"You'll make new friends, Luce. You will. You're smart and you're pretty and everyone will be your friend."
"I'm not leaving here…"
"Lucy, seriously. Stop being dramatic and think about it. You don't need to live here. I'm glad they're nice to you and it seems like they're really great people, I'm sure. But you don't need to live here. It's not… it's not right. If Mom and Dad won't have you back, then it's only right for you to come live with me. I'm your sister. I'm your family. I'll take care of you. That's the way it should be, it's more… natural this way."
"More natural than what…?" I sat up and looked her right in the eye. "More natural than what, Fran? More natural than me living here? With a black family?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it's not."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I just meant that… that these people… they don't know how to take care of you. You're not meant to be here, I mean look at it. It's… it's not where you're from. It's not how you're meant to live. You're a Fabray and we come from certain standards and they're not capable of —"
"Because they're black." I mumbled.
"Don't be like that. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm just being honest. You should come stay with me. It's better that way."
"You don't mean to be rude, but you are. And it's rude of you to assume that they don't have money and can't take care of me. You know Fran, they are more my parents than Mom and Dad ever were. I have everything I need here. And I know how you meant it. You meant that I'm not supposed to live with black people, but —"
"I didn't mean that."
"You did. And that's okay. It's okay because Mom and Dad have you SO wired…" I shook my head. "But I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving and I'm not coming to stay with you. I'm… I'm happy here, Fran. I'm real happy. I have a family who loves me, I get to see my daughter… I have a girlfriend. She's kind and she's smart and her name is Rachel. And she's mine."
"Oh god," she covered her face with her hands. "Mom and Dad said you were going through this phase… I didn't want to believe it."
"It's not a phase! It's who I am!"
"Whatever it is, you can't blame Mom and Dad! Quinn… you're the one who changed. It was you. You spent your entire life — sixteen years — being one way. You were straight and you had boyfriends and you had a BABY… then you just changed. And it's not natural, it's… everything we were taught about heaven and hell and the Bible… are you really gonna just throw it away? For… for what? A girl?"
"You don't understand! It's always been inside of me! I didn't just wake up and choose! Frannie, I was raped! Raped!"
"I know and… and look, I'm happy that you're happy. Really, I am. I'm so happy that you're happy, Little Luce. But I can't… I can't support that. Not when you were raised the other way."
"You don't have to support it. You don't have to. But this is who I am. I'm… I'm gay, Frannie. It's the only thing that's ever made sense."
"And I'm happy that you know who you are. I'm happy for you. But I just can't support it. I can't, Lucy. I can't understand it. I love you. I love you so much. But I can't love that. Not whenever I know you weren't raised like that."
Truth be told, I stopped listening after she said that. And the next thing I remember is her handing Beth back to me, kissing my cheek, and me opening the door.
And when I shut the door behind her, it felt like a chapter of my life was closed.