Author's Notes: Special thanks to Mike Ownby for clearing up a lot of my confusion on Broadway shows and making this chapter possible.
As usual, after brunch, Santana helped Rachel pack Elly's things into a taxi. They would then go their separate ways; Rachel and Elly back home, Santana to her office.
Today was different. Rachel was bewildered when Santana climbed into the front passenger seat and rattled off Rachel's address to the driver.
"Santana? Aren't you going back to work?"
"Nah," said Santana breezily, "took the rest of the day off. I'm following you guys home." She folded her arms across her chest, smiling at Rachel in the rearview mirror.
"Why?"
"Because I felt like it."
Rachel frowned. A flippant answer from her friend usually meant there was something important she wanted to discuss with Rachel in private. Sometimes she wished she didn't know Santana so well. "Okay, so… serious talk time? How serious are we talking?"
"You possibly being pregnant with Brody Weston's kid level of serious."
"Oh." Rachel accidentally locked eyes with the driver in the rearview mirror; she flushed red when the man hastily looked away. She could practically see tomorrow's tabloid headlines: Broadway Star's Pregnancy Scare! Wicked Star's Wicked College Ways!
They didn't speak again until they were in Rachel's apartment and the kettle was set on the stove. Elly burbled happily in her playpen, occupied with her favorite toys.
"What's wrong, Santana?" asked Rachel softly.
"I needed to talk to you in private about me and Britt having a baby," said Santana without preamble. "Don't get me wrong; I love Britt more than anything on this earth, but we both know her reality only occasionally intersects with everyone else's."
Rachel glanced up at her in surprise. "What do you mean? I'm happy for the both of you. If there's anything I've said or done that hinted otherwise…"
"I know you're happy for us." Santana had her arms folded across her chest. She rubbed at her upper arm. "But I also know there's a lot more on your mind, Rach. Things between you and Brittany haven't been the greatest lately – I'm not mad at you for that, by the way," she added.
"I don't blame her for what she did," said Rachel. "She was trying to help in the way she knew best."
"Yeah, we're lucky you're so fucking weird. Other people wouldn't have survived a dead spouse chat bot," Santana commented dryly.
Rachel shook her head. "I highly doubt that."
"She sprang our big news on you without warning, Rachel. After everything that's happened."
"She's Brittany. That's what she does." Rachel shrugged. "Honestly, I see nothing wrong with any of this. There's nothing wrong with you guys moving on with your lives."
"It's already fucked up that Quinn died, and left you and Elly behind," said Santana.
Rachel exhaled slowly. She had no answer for that.
"And then barely a year later, your friends announce they're having a baby, and they want you to be the godmother." Santana rested her hands on the kitchen counter. "Even without Robo-Quinn, that's pretty fucked up, don't you think?"
"When you put it that way…" began Rachel weakly.
Santana reached out to grasp Rachel's elbow. "You understand why I wanted to check on you now?"
"Thank you for being so considerate." She covered Santana's fingers with her own, and squeezed back. "But I still feel that your concern is unnecessary. I'm happy for the both of you because I understand that your lives can't grind to a halt like mine has, but… I appreciate this."
The kettle whistled. Rachel pulled away to fill their mugs with hot water. "Who's carrying?" she asked, hoping the change of subject would take her mind off the lump in her throat.
"Me. Britt's in a critical part of her career right now, and can't afford to take the time off. Plus, my firm has, like, a killer maternity package."
A wide smile spread across Rachel's face. "I am so excited. I have so much advice to share."
"I know," replied Santana, rolling her eyes dramatically.
"Hey, that's my facial quirk."
"I do it way better," said Santana, and rolled her eyes again.
Rachel ignored her. "It'll be the best decision you ever made as a couple," she continued, "it'll change your entire life."
"I know."
"God. I'm the most eloquent person I know, and I'm having a hard time putting everything I want to say into words."
"You don't need to. I just need to look at Elly, and I get an idea of what we can expect."
Rachel smiled. "I can't tell you how much everything changes when you become a mother. Even now."
"Rach?"
"I'm a widow, San. I'm raising my daughter alone. It's not fair, but I think I'm getting over it." She scooted closer and leaned her head on Santana's shoulder. "You know, Cassie thinks there's something else bothering me apart from losing Quinn. If only she knew how right she was."
"... Are you gonna tell her?" About You-Know-What, was the unspoken question.
"No. Just no. Strangely enough, once I got over how weird the entire thing was, it's been comforting to have around. That's not what's keeping me up at night." Rachel straightened so she could look Santana in the eye. "What will I tell Elly, when she's old enough?"
Santana chewed on her lower lip. "Jesus, Rach."
"I want Quinn to be part of her life," explained Rachel. "I want her to know how much Quinn loved her. But I don't want Quinn to be reduced to that – thing, to her. She was so much more than that."
"We know."
"I don't know what to do," said Rachel, voice breaking. "I just work and take each day as it comes. It's easy because everything I need to say and do is written down for me. The emotions I feel are someone else's. When I'm at home, I'm Mama because that's what my daughter needs me to be. But I'm turning thirty-five in a month, and I'm a widow with a toddler."
Elly lifted her head, seemingly sensing her mother's distress. She started to whimper.
"Oh no, baby." Rachel hurriedly wiped her face with her sleeve and rushed over to Elly. She swung the toddler into her arms. "Mama's here."
Elly's whimpering soon faded into gurgling. When the toddler was calm, Rachel put her back down. "We shouldn't have had this conversation in front of Elly," she said. Rachel kept her arms folded in front of her, focusing on the family photos hanging on the opposite wall.
"I didn't even know we needed to have this conversation," replied Santana. "I was expecting us to talk about my future kid."
Rachel sighed. "Honestly? Me neither." She turned around. "I'm a mess."
"You say that as though I have my shit together and all."
Somehow, Rachel found the blunt answer funny. She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're right. I think the last time I had my… shit together, as you so succinctly put it, was in high school."
"Yeah, I think so too." Santana snickered. "God, remember that time in freshman year when we had to introduce ourselves in homeroom and you brought in that ridiculous vision board and action plan for your goal of winning a Tony before you turned twenty-five?"
"Santana, I'll never understand why you take such pleasure in retaining and retelling anecdotes of my teenage insufferableness," said Rachel with a smile. "But I'm going to accept that as your unique way of showing me that you care, and in return I will hug you now."
"I thought we were way past warnings," replied Santana. She let Rachel throw her arms around her neck, even patting Rachel's back briefly. "So, what are you gonna do now?"
"A Beginning to Endings opens in two weeks," said Rachel, referencing her show, "and we're scheduled to run for at least three months. Hopefully, we'll be successful enough to keep the show going longer; but if not, we're about due to visit New Haven."
"Are you going home for Christmas?"
Rachel laughed. "Definitely. My dads will kill me if I didn't; they already complain they don't see Elly enough."
"Damn straight. My mom thinks your spawn is the cutest lil' thing that exists, and she's already getting me making plans to lure you to casa de Lopez during the holidays. Wait 'til she sees my kid, though."
"Don't tell me you're going to be one of those ultra-competitive moms."
"I won't be able to help it. This baby is gonna come out perfect." Santana grinned widely.
And it was Rachel's turn to roll her eyes.
Opening night came around. As always, the seats would be filled by familiar faces; much of McKinley High's graduates, Rachel's fathers, Santana and Brittany. Elly was far too young to attend the theatre and was staying home with the sitter.
Rachel sat in her dressing room, doing a last visual check of her costume and makeup in the mirror. She felt no nervousness; she had done this enough times, though the thrill of performing ran as an undercurrent.
There was a knock on her dressing room door. "Come in," called Rachel absently.
"Hey, Rach."
She laughed, turning to greet her visitor. "Santana, you – " And the words died in her throat when she saw what the other woman was carrying.
"Yours," said Santana. In her arms was a bouquet of gardenias, bound loosely with green ribbon.
"... You remembered," said Rachel, fighting down the lump in her throat. "I wasn't expecting to see them tonight." She reached out a trembling hand to touch the flowers. "Thank you."
Santana just smiled. "Break a leg tonight, Tiny. You got this." She settled the flowers into Rachel's arms. "She's proud of you."
Rachel, unable to speak for fear of ruining her makeup and composure, just nodded vigorously. Her eyes shone, and her hands trembled around the delicate blooms.
As the curtain fell on the stage, Rachel finally let the character of Elise Norton go, and hugged each of her cast members. The show had gone as smoothly as they all had hoped, and Rachel was looking forward to seeing how it was received.
"Party in the back!" boomed the voice of Shaun, the director. "Move, people!"
Laughing, Rachel extracted herself from the group hug. "See you guys in five!" she yelled to be heard over the noise.
She needed some alone time. Her previous opening night routine involved meeting her friends and family at the afterparty, and tonight there was one very important person missing.
"Rach!"
She stopped, surprised by the familiar voice. "Hi, Finn." Rachel let him kiss her cheek and lift her into a hug – quite literally; her feet left the ground. Rachel didn't mind; she had missed Finn and his exuberance. "Did you enjoy the show?" Rachel asked once she got her breath back.
"Yeah!" he said, nodding enthusiastically. "It was better than all those shows you made us watch last time. Reminded me of Glee."
Rachel laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed this one." She wrapped her hands around his arm. "What are you doing here? Aren't you headed for the afterparty?"
"Yeah, sure. Came to look for you."
"And you found me," she said, smiling. "How long will you be staying in New York? Elly misses you."
"I extended my leave just for her," said Finn. "I've missed my little lady too. But you'll be back in Lima for Christmas, won't you? Or is your show gonna run through the holidays?"
"We're always hoping for a longer run, but I wouldn't miss Christmas in Lima for anything."
Finn grinned. "Glad to hear that."
Opening night parties were always wild, in her experience, but the cast and crew of A Beginning to Endings were notorious partiers, and Shaun had outdone himself this time with his champagne tower. Rachel felt like she was never going to get the champagne out of her dress, and that was just one casualty of the night.
The hangover she'd woken up with the next day would have been tolerable if they didn't have another show that night, and the day after that. A lesser actress might have gotten her understudy to take over, but she was Rachel Berry and she was nothing but professional.
That being said, she was really enjoying her Monday, being the only day of the week the theatre was dark.
God, she'd gotten too old for this.
This Monday was also special; it was one of the rare times since her birth that Elly wasn't with her. Rachel had decided to enroll her daughter in a special musical-centric preschool program at Shelby's request; Beth's friend's mother was one of the founders. Rachel, unwilling to lose any remaining connections she had to Quinn, had offered to try out the program.
She'd planned on spending the rest of her morning with coffee and a book before going to pick Elly up after lunch; as much as she loved the peace and quiet, she missed her daughter.
Even though there would be no professional reviews until the preview period was over, Rachel knew that there would certainly be some informal fan reviews posted on social media if she was brave enough to look. Rachel hoped they would focus on the show and not harp on her tragic recent history, but she wasn't holding her breath.
There was a knock on the door. Rachel found herself wondering when she had become this popular. "Coming," she called, shuffling to the door.
"Ms Berry?"
She didn't answer him immediately. Her eyes were fixed on the bouquet of gardenias in the deliveryman's arms.
It took her a few moments to realize that the man was patiently waiting for an answer. Rachel cleared her throat and said, "That's me".
He handed the flowers over. "Thank you, miss."
There was an envelope in the flowers. Rachel, it said in Quinn's neat cursive.