Shelby sat in the uncomfortable metal chair in the AA circle waiting for the meeting to begin. She looked around wondering when she had become one of these people. Most of the other participants looked so tired, like life had won the battle and they had given up. Others smelled, or at least looked like they did, while others looked too perfectly put together as if to hide their suffering. She wondered which archetype she fell into.
She found her mind wandering to Quinn. She wished she could be there as moral support while her daughter had her therapy session. Another part of the reason she wanted to be with Quinn was so she didn't have to be here, but she reminded herself that this is what she needed to do. Her children had suffered without her help for far too long. The least she could do was suffer through one hour of AA at a time.
The leader of the group, a down to earth man named Michael, walked over to the circle announcing that they were about to begin, but a special guest friend of his was going to join them. Shelby fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't need more people to judge her or look down upon her from high up on their own pedestal. Michael seemed like a trustworthy leader judging from her first meeting, she didn't want to have to adjust to someone else too.
As the woman Michael referred to made her way to the circle and greeted the group, Shelby's eyes almost bugged out of her head. She knew that voice and the more closely she looked at the woman, she recognized her too. It was Ruth Puckerman who she was on the phone with mere days ago talking about catching up. This was not how Shelby envisioned the reunion. Ruth's eyes connected with Shelby's and the latter saw recognition flash in Ruth's eyes as well. The other woman gave Shelby a simple smile and head nod in greeting before taking her seat and addressing the group.
"Hi everyone," she began. "I want to thank Michael for giving me the opportunity to come here and speak. I have to admit, I haven't attended one of these meetings in a long time and it still feels a little bit intimidating," she said kindly.
Shelby watched Ruth closely. The woman had a hesitant confidence about her, as if she had once been in this position and didn't feel worthy of talking to other people like she was better than them.
"My name is Ruth and a little background on me," she continued, "is that like you all, I felt I had a problem and I didn't want it to get the better of me. It took a long time for me to open up in a group like this, but once I did, I realized I was so much stronger than my addiction. My husband, if you could even call him that, had been in and out of my life for years. My family had nothing and neither did his, so I thought we understood each other at a level nobody else could. Sadly, it took me years to realize that my family had morals and feelings where his clearly did not."
She paused and Shelby watched as she looked around the room at everyone except her. It was as if Ruth was purposefully avoiding her gaze for fear of Shelby's judgement. Shelby could've laughed at the thought. Ruth was a successful nurse who, after hearing part of her story, had clearly pulled her life together. Shelby was no one to judge. She kept her attention on Ruth as she continued.
"We share two children, and while I love them with everything that I am, I wish I could change who their father is," Ruth admitted. It was a statement that resonated deeply with Shelby. "Once I saw how he acted and treated me after I had my first child, my son, I should've ended it. Instead, I would drink because it was easier. He seemed happier when I was a little more relaxed and that happened with the bottle," she said with a shoulder shrug. "Throughout my son's early years, my husband would be gone for weeks and months at a time. I was always relieved and would drink in celebration. I never knew where he went or who he was with. I just knew I wanted to drink more than I wanted to work, and even more than I wanted to raise my son." She paused to take a deep breath and remain in control of where her story was going.
Shelby's heart ached for Ruth. She had no idea of her home life. The memories she had of Ruth from when the kids were younger were all very positive. She seemed like a hands on mother at the park and the co-ed children's soccer games. Then again, Shelby probably did too on the rare occassion that she showed up.
"My daughter was conceived after a massive, drunken fight where he wanted to make up with me. By that point, my son was old enough to know what was going on. He'd stand up to my husband in my defense. I remember the next day, my son asked me to end things. He was eight years old and I looked at his sweet face and remembered all the questions he'd had over the years about where his dad was and what he did for work and I knew I couldn't keep lying to him. I tried to build my husband up to sound like he was the best husband and father in the world, but his actions clearly spoke louder than my words. That very next day I left my husband, came to my first AA meeting, and requested a transfer to a new hospital. I'm a nurse, so imagine realizing your nurse was an alcoholic trying to care for others? I knew I had to start over in every aspect, so I did."
She said the last phrase as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Shelby wanted to feel inspired by this woman with whom she clearly shared similar experiences, but Ruth's child had been enough. Why hadn't her own children been enough for Shelby to change? She couldn't recall much, but she could remember almost every time Santana had begged her to leave or runaway and yet she never did.
"It's been eight years," Ruth continued, "and I've never looked back. Things aren't perfect, my son never had a real father figure, my daughter never knew him, and they are both rougher around the edges than most mothers would probably like," she chuckled. "But giving up the alcohol was like giving him up. And it was the best decision I ever made."
Michael began a round of applause for Ruth that the rest of the group joined in on.
"Thank youso much, Ruth," Michael said. He turned to address the entire circle. "I thought it could be helpful to this group to hear firsthand another person's successful battle with this disease. Alcoholism can manifest in so many different ways for so many different people. It can control us, our families, our jobs, our relationships, right? We don't realize that over time, we aren't just taking a drink to take the edge off anymore. Instead it feels like we've fallen off the edge more than anything else. I came to know Ruth years ago after my own alcoholism landed me in the hospital. I felt so lucky to have a nurse understand me and not judge me. In many ways, this woman is part of the reason I sit in front of you today," he said with a jovial clap of his hands. "So, without further ado, let's get started."
Shelby only half-listened as different members of the group took turns speaking. She was envious of Ruth's ability to see the longing in her child's eyes and listen to it. After years of drinking and an unstable relationship, she was able to just turn the page. Shelby found herself turning pages only to go back and reread previous pages of her life over and over again. She wondered how Quinn was doing. She felt a strong pull to go home and look into those hazel eyes and tell her things would be okay. She wanted to pull Santana and Rachel in tight hugs and tell them the same thing. The problem was Shelby knew she couldn't promise that. She still longed for so many things she shouldn't.
"Shelby?" Michael called. It seemed he had made several attempts at getting her attention and the entire group, including Ruth, was looking at her expectantly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she startled. "Uh.. hi. I'm Shelby and I'm an alcoholic."
This time it was Shelby's eyes avoiding Ruth's.
"Hi Shelby," came the collective voice of the group.
She fiddled with her fingers as she tried to find words. She could almost feel Ruth's eyes on her. The woman knew what a terrible mother she had been. Anyone in the hospital that day would be able to confirm what a useless mother she was. Ruth knew what had happened to Quinn and despite how nice she was on the phone the other day, Shelby knew the woman must secretly blame her for Quinn getting in that situation.
"Uhh..." It was all she could seem to muster up. "Yeah.. I.. it's been hard."
She sounded pathetic and she knew it. Everyone else was strong enough to mention how it's been hard or why or how their family is dealing with it, and she was too embarassed.
"What's been the hardest part, Shelby?" came Michael's encouraging voice.
She looked at him. He had a very honest, trustworthy face. Perhaps if she didn't feel pressure after hearing Ruth's story, she'd be able to share more. Michael's plan seem to have the opposite effect on her than it did on everyone else. Still, for her girls, she would try.
"My daughters," she managed. "It's been hard to see... what this has done to them."
Michael nodded in understanding. "Can you remind us how old your kids are?"
"They're.." she froze. She couldn't remember if Santana was seventeen or eighteen. Surely she would have remembered her eighteenth birthday, that's a milestone. She quickly did the math in her head and felt another sliver of hope detach itself from her. Santana was eighteen and Shelby had completely missed it.
"They're uh.. e-eighteen, fourteen, and eight," she said quietly. "They uh.. they asked me to leave too," she jerking her head in Ruth's direction as if to express their similar story. "T-they're why I'm here."
Michael smiled. "That's great, Shelby. It helps when we have specific people we can fight for."
She nodded before stating that she wasn't up for sharing any more today. Michael understood and thanked her for sharing before the group moved on to the next person.
The next thirty minutes were a blur. She wanted nothing more than to charge out of the room and head to the nearest corner pub to drown her sorrows. The irony of it all made her chuckle as Michael dismissed the group.
As she was making her way to the exit, Ruth's familiar voice called her name. "Shelby," she said gently. "If you aren't in a rush, would you want to maybe catch up over some coffee?"
"Not gonna offer anything stronger?" Shelby joked. Ruth smiled at her, but didn't take the joke further. They were leaving an AA meeting after all. "Uh, you know Quinn has a therapy session at home and I should really get back."
"Mind if I walk with you, then?" Ruth asked.
Shelby didn't see how she could successfully get out of the situation without coming across as neglectful or a bitch. Or both. She agreed to Ruth's company and the two took off down Columbus Avenue. For as cold as the days between Christmas and New Year's seemed to feel, the day was mild and Shelby enjoyed the slight wind in her hair as they walked.
"Sorry," she began. "I wasn't expecting to see you in that meeting and this... well, this wasn't how I intended on seeing you again."
Ruth smiled at her. "Trust me, I get it. I wasn't expecting to see you either. I actually didn't even want to go," she confessed.
Shelby raised her eyebrows. "Why did you?"
"I'm not sure, honestly," the darker haired woman said. "I think I thought talking about it again would make me feel good. It's been so long since I 'shared my experiences' with a group."
Shelby appreciated the woman using finger air quotes around the phrase. Everything with all these professionals seemed so proper. Why couldn't they just understand that shit was shit and people didn't need fancy names for communicating?
"Did it?" Shelby ask. "Make you feel good?"
"I don't know. If it helped someone in there in some way, then yeah," she nodded. "Did it make a difference to you?"
Shelby took the time it took to cross the street to gather her thoughts. On one hand, Shelby was relieved to have someone she could potentially relate to. On the other hand, Ruth had gotten it together so quickly. Her son still loved her.
"I mean.. can I ask you something, Ruth?"
"Sure," she said.
"What do you know about my husband?"
Ruth raised her eyebrows. Clearly, she had not been expecting the question. There was the obvious from that day at the hospital, but Shelby needed to know more before she poured her thoughts out to a woman she hadn't spoken to in years.
"Well, frankly I think he's a piece of shit," came Ruth's blunt response. "I'm sure it's much more complicated than that for you, and understandably so, but I was there that day in the hospital, Shelby. I was one of the nurses they called to the floor. Nobody can call themselves a man or a father if that's what they do to their daughter."
Shelby nodded. She had lost her voice again. It was hard to come face to face with verbal truth even when you know it's coming.
"Other than that," Ruth continued, "I'm not sure. I think I remember him working in real estate.. or that was his cover for something sketchy at least. I remember Santana and Noah played on the same soccer team when they were little. It was almost always your husband there, or both of you, but never just you. My daughter Sarah is the same age as your Rachel. I put Sarah in a different school, but they took dance class together. Leroy was always there. First to arrive, last to leave. Honestly, the guy creeped me out."
"He did?" Shelby wasn't sure why, but she wanted to laugh. Maybe it's because he always creeped her out too, but everyone else always seemed so charmed by him.
"Oh yeah," Ruth said as if it was the most obvious statement. "I don't know. He was always smoking a cigar, always talking to everyone else trying to one-up them, always trying to pit Santana up against other kids. Actually, one time I remember he had Quinn with him on the sidelines and he literally told her to go fight another kid."
"What?" Shelby said exasperatedly. "When was this?"
"Oh, it was years ago. Soccer age. Quinn had to have been no older than three or four. There was another little girl there doing cartwheels - I remember that part because I was definitely hungover and it made me nauseous," she laughed. Shelby laughed too, appreciating her keeping things real. "But yeah, he told her to go over and start doing her own cartwheels next to her. I guess Quinn didn't want to or whatever - I mean my God, she was a baby - but he forced her to go over there and start a competition. All the parents watched because Leroy was making such a scene. This other little girl pushed Quinn out of the way and he told her to fight back," Ruth said shaking her head. "I never understood what his problem was," she said.
"I think it was me," Shelby said softly as they continued walking. They were almost to Shelby's apartment.
"I guarantee you it wasn't," Rush said maneuvering around a slush puddle. "Men like that are born that way. You might have been a stressor in his life Shelby, but I can assure you that you are not the source of that man's issues."
Shelby stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk and looked at her.
"What?" asked Ruth.
"I just.." Shelby looked at her as if waiting for more answers to appear on the woman's face. "You hardly know me. How can you assume I wasn't his biggest issue?"
Ruth smiled and put a hand to Shelby's arm. "Because I saw who you were back then. When you came to things you would watch your kids and you'd have this giant, genuine smile on your face. Everyone knew you were a Broadway star, but they were clearly your favorite accomplishment. You were so proud of them. And more than that, I remember Santana scored a goal once and ran off the field into your arms she was so happy and excited. They loved you in the most pure and simple way that only children can. I remember wanting a daughter back then so I could dress her and do her hair as sweetly as you did with yours."
Shelby looked down shyly. She hadn't realized this woman had studied her years ago.
"And then there's where you're at today. Shelby... I obviously have no idea what you're going through. And even if I could guess, I'd never know how you're feeling... but you're putting yourself through all of these tortuous meetings because you know it's what's best for your family. I know the mom in you is probably thinking it's what's best for your kids, and it is, but it's what's best for you too. Trust this crazy process. It will help you, I swear."
Shelby felt her eyes water with unshed tears. For over twenty years every person she knew was charmed by Leroy. She knew no one would have ever believed her had she come forward with a claim against him. He provided a home, money, knew powerful people, kept her kids fed, and to outsiders he appeared like the perfect father and husband. To her, living in hell was worth it. It saved her from the embarrassment of accusing him of something he'd no doubt get away with, being blacklisted by every person she knew, every producer she could work with, and she'd still have her kids with her. She had assumed the bottle was her only friend, seducing her by confirming her own feelings of worthlessness. And yet, this whole time, people like Ruth existed. People who thought Leroy was a creep. People who may have believed her had she said something years ago.
Shelby met her eyes and grabbed Ruth's glove covered hands in her own as they turned the corner on to Shelby's block.
"Thank you," Shelby said earnestly. "Really.. I.. justthank you. I'd love actually catch up with you over coffee one of these days."
Ruth stepped forward to give the woman a hug. "No need to thank me. Like I said, sometimes just talking about things helps. I'd love to catch up too."
"Great," Shelby said with a smile. They exchanged cell numbers so Ruth didn't have to call the landline like it was still the 90s or early 2000s. Just as she was about to continue on her way home, Ruth turned to catch Shelby before she went inside.
"One more thing, Shelby," she called. "I really am sorry about Noah cutting school and convincing Quinn to meet him. I'll talk to him. He's impossible and it's really not okay," she said apologetically.
"It's alright," Shelby told her. "I can't say I condone it, but I think just being out of the house was good for her. And he sat through Rachel's school play that night so if anything, I owe him," she said with a wink.
Ruth laughed and gave Shelby a wavegoodbye. Shelby made her way inside, past Joe, to the elevator. It felt good to have a friend, if that's what she could call Ruth Puckerman. Maybe she could start actually talking in AA and maybe she'd finally get herself back on track to being the mother her daughters always needed.
As she exited the elevator and made for her apartment, she saw Liz leaving.
"Oh, Elizabeth! How was she?" Shelby asked eagerly. In a perfect world Quinn would have had a similar sort of breakthrough that Shelby felt herself have today.
The therapist's high ponytail flew in the air as she turned to face Shelby.
"Hi Shelby, it' Liz, please," she said offering the woman a smile. "There were no instances of upchucking this time if that's what you're asking."
"Always good," she said with a sigh. "Should I... is there anything I should be prepared for heading in there?" She motioned toward the door.
"Well," Liz began, "I believe your little one is holding a concert for a stuffed animal crowd, so you may not want to interrupt that," she said with a laugh. "Otherwise, don't expect Quinn to bounce back after every session we have, Shelby. We had a good discussion and I think we've connected on a certain level that I hope to deepen, but therapy is hard. It's hard for anyone. Considering Quinn's age and what she's been through, this is going to take time. Just trust me, and more importantly trust her. There will be light at the end of this tunnel."
Shelby nodded, accepting what the young woman had to say, despite her own eagerness for her daughter to bounce back, as Liz had put it. "Thank you," she said.
She put her hand on the door handle and went inside. She was greeted instantly by Rachel's karaoke rendition of "Maybe" from Annie.
...
"Dad, stop!" Santana cried.
Leroy had an eleven-year-old Quinn by her elbow and was dragging her around the corner of the grocery store they were just in to the back alley where the store kept their garbage.
All three sisters had accompanied their father to the store after Shelby had drunkenly thrown up after a fight with Leroy, missing the toilet, and losing consciousness. He told the girls she would be fine and awake by the time they got home. He claimed he wanted to find her some medicine.
While in the store they ran into Kitty Wilde from Quinn's class and her mother. Quinn stopped to talk to them and ended up separated from her family by a couple of aisles. Once Leroy realized, he stormed through the store in a rage looking for her. Santana held five-year-old Rachel's hand and quickly followed behind him, hoping to find Quinn first and avoid a scene.
Leroy found her just as Kitty's mother was asking Quinn if she and her father would be dancing at the school's annual Father's Day Father-Daughter Dance. Quinn was in the middle of a explaining a fake excuse as to why she wouldn't be there when Leroy came charging down the aisle.
"Quinn! What the hell are you doing?"
Realizing she knew the people she was talking to, his demeanor instantly changed to calm and concerned.
"I'm so sorry Mrs.?" he asked.
"Wilde," said the woman.
"Mrs. Wilde. I'm so sorry. I turned around and Quinn wasn't with me and I automatically thought something happened," he said apologetically. He turned to Quinn, but Santana saw his eyes change almost to black. "You need to tell me if you're not going to be with me."
"Oh, no I'm sorry Mr. Lopez. I shouldn't have kept her so long. Kitty and I were just wondering if you and Quinn would be at the Father's Day Dance. I'm on the PTA committee and didn't see either of you signed up."
Santana watched as Quinn swallowed and steady herself. A natural actress and an excellent liar.
"I was just telling them that we can't go because you have to work," the blonde said, looking up at him. Santana knew the reason was because Leroy had ripped up the flyer Quinn brought home from school and threw it in her face, telling her he was not her father and therefore wouldn't take her to a dance where fathers danced with their daughters.
"What?" Leroy feigned surprise and took Quinn's face in his hands. "Quinnie, I didn't know this meant so much to you. Baby girl, I can easily get out of work if that's what you want." He pulled Quinn close to him and turned back to Mrs. Wilde. "Put us on that list, ma'am! We will be there."
Kitty and Quinn exchanged their goodbyes and the two families parted ways. Leroy immediately put a firm hand to Quinn's back and forced her out of the grocery store. Santana picked up Rachel's small form, and followed them out the doors.
She saw Leroy grab Quinn's arm tightly and whip her around the corner toward the trash door where no one could see them.
"Dad, stop!" she cried.
"Shut the fuck up, Santana. Get Rachel out of here," he said, gesturing with his hands for her to walk away.
He had Quinn pressed up against the building with his forearm under her chin.
"Why do you have to play these games, huh?"
Quinn remained silent. Santana could tell she wanted to snark back at him. Their eyes met and Santana knew her sister wanted Rachel out of there too.
Still holding Rachel, she turned and made her way out to the main street, finally putting her sister down once they got there.
"Where's Daddy?" Rachel asked.
Santana thought she heard a far away whimper from Quinn. She looked between the trash alley and Rachel, being pulled in both directions. She couldn't leave her five-year-old sister on the street without supervision, but she couldn't leave Quinn with Leroy either. It had been a long time since he had acted so brazenly out of their apartment. She heard a gasp as if Quinn had just had the wind knocked out of her and knew she had to act fast.
"Oh, hi Mr. Schuester! What are you doing on this side of town?!"
She yelled it loud enough so that her father would hear without her needing to leave Rachel behind. Mr. Schuester was nowhere in sight, but she knew getting caught and being exposed as the abusive prick he was, was Leroy's greatest fear. If he thought a teacher was coming, surely he'd stop.
She was in luck. In a matter of seconds Leroy appeared, readjusting his jacket and cracking his knuckles. Quinn slowly emerged behind him, red in the face.
"Where's your teacher?" he demanded. "Would've loved to give him a friendly Lopez hello."
She met Quinn's eyes. The blonde closed them and mouthed 'thank you'. Santana turned her eyes back to her father who was looking between the two.
"Ah, I see," he said. He grabbed Rachel by the hand and began heading for the subway. "Come on girls. Santana, you bet your ass you're gonna get it at home."
Santana wanted to punch someone. She had told her sisters she was jumping in the shower, but really it was the only place she could be alone with her thoughts and feel like she could burn herself alive without any interruption.
She had to talk to Quinn, but she didn't know how to broach the subject of not being around the one time it mattered. She wanted toapologizefor being a failure. She had always tried, even in impossible situations to help, but it didn't matter. She could protect her sister one thousand times, but if on the one thousand and first time she failed, then it was all for naught.
She also wanted to talk to Brittany. Needed to talk to Brittany. They barely exchanged texts on Christmas, caught up with their own families, and Brittany would know how to keep Santana from wanting to burn her skin off in the shower and become one with the actual Satan.
There was a knock on the door from her mother announcing that she had returned from her meeting. Santana made an incoherent noise in response to assure her mother that she had been heard. The woman was starting to reveal herself as less of a puzzle than Santana thought. Maybe with their father out of the picture, Shelby was able to come into her own. Still, she couldn't let herself believe her father was actually fully out of the picture or that their mother was fully in it.
Santana didn't wash her hair. She just stood and let the hot water run over her thin body. She examined the faded bruises and tiny scars she had garnered over the years. Where Quinn always saw weakness in herself, Santana saw war wounds. Signs of survival. She'd be damned if she let something happen to her family again.
Just then she heard her mother scream.
"RACHEL!"
Santana's heart sank. She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself and fled thebathroom, leaving water dripping everywhere.
In the living room it appeared Rachel had collapsed. Her tiny body was being scooped into Shelby's arms, the microphone from the karaoke machine lay forgotten beside them.
"What happened?!" Santana shouted, not sure where to go or how to help in just her towel.
"I-I don't know! She was singing and then she stopped and said she felt dizzy. Then, I heard a thud and she collapsed!"
In the middle of her mother's explanation, Quinn emerged from the bedroom and jumped to immediate action.
"Mom, keep her on the ground and put some pillows underneath her feet. Keep them elevated," she commanded. "Santana get dressed, I'm calling 911."
Santana, again, felt stuck in the crisis. Why weren't her feet moving?
"Now, San!" Quinn yelled in her direction, dialling 911 on her cell phone.
Santana turned and fled the scene getting changed into the first pair of pants a shirt she could find. She re-emerged to see Shelby in hysterics, Quinn having replaced her on the ground. Quinn was keeping Rachel's feet elevated with one hand and stroking her face urging her to come around with other.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there staring frozen at the scene before her before she heard sirens of an ambulance approaching. It was like deja vu. These same sirens had sung when she had found Shelby unconscious in the bathroom. They reminded her of the shouts from the hospital corridor after the bathroom door was opened to reveal their father length deep inside of Quinn. Now they were coming for Rachel.
She snapped out of her daze as EMTs burst through the apartment door. In a fit of unbridled rage, she took the lamp off the end table in front of her and threw it across the room with a yell, breaking into pieces.
The EMTs hardly seemed to notice as they tended to Rachel, lifting her onto the gurney. Their mother held her hand tightly not letting go, tears still falling freely.
She felt Quinn next to her. They stood shoulder to shoulder watching as the chaos shuffled out their front door, both of them petrified to take the next step behind them.
There you have it!Thank you so much, as always, for the reviews! I'm so happy there are still people reading this story and following it. The pace is probably a bit slower than the normal fanfiction, but there's a lot to unpack and emotions are important :) I hope you all enjoyed seeing a little bit more of Shelby's side of things.
Please review and let me know what you think!
Guest - I agree with everything you said. It was great to get to write a happy holiday for them. Rachel has found her soulmate in the karaoke machine, Quinn breaks my heart too, but she will get better with therapy! And Santana is her own worst enemy sometimes. We'll be delving more into that shortly.Thank you for reading and revewing!
CharmedbyCharmed - I'm sorry to have made you cry! You nailed it with depression. Quinn is certainly feeling its effects. I love the Q and S relationship too. It really is beautiful. They share everything with each other, and yet they still need to communicate better with each other.Thank you so much for your review!
ForeverCourage -Thanksfor reviewing! Definitely an overall successful Christmas. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Guilt is a major theme and will continue to be addressed.
bproofmgmt -thank you for reviewing, as always!
xaviorismyoneandonly3512 - Shelby is really trying and my have just found her first ally in this chapter. Quinn's lucky to have Puck, Santana has Brittany, and as far as Rachel, a little fella by the name of Kurt Hummel will soon make his appearance Finn will be older.
Guest (TAZ) -Thank youfor your beautiful review and kind words! Santana can definitely benefit from therapy. The issue will be getting her to accept that. At the very least, you're right, Quinn and Santana need to address their guilt to each other. It's really so sad how they both feel it so strongly. Shelby is on the right path, but temptations will lurk and she will be a teeter-totter for awhile. And yes, Rachel is the sweetest. She will need happy thoughts after you read this chapter
