People have asked me for a piece exploring this topic for a long time. It's not the only one I've considered featuring this character in the later years of the universe, so if you are interested, let me know - I'll consider investigating the topic more. It's a tricky reunion, if one is (or many are) to be had.

Aubrey: Where Do We Go From Here?

Chloe had left already to join Vera on a trip to England. The young scholar was a visiting professor at Oxford – doing several lectures on music history. She had been excited – but hesitant to go on her own. So Chloe offered to travel with her for the six-week sojourn. Beca and Dahlia were on their own for two weeks already when the studio called, asking Beca to come in to collaborate on an album at the last minute. She really didn't want to do it – it was setting a bad precedent to let them think she was at their beck and call. But she liked the artist – and she was growing a little bored. Early semi-retirement was not for her, even though Chloe and Stacie insisted on it based on what they called "the best interest of your health." She knew that if she turned down too many chances to collaborate, she would eventually stop getting calls.

So, she walked into the kitchen where Dahlia was doing her homework. "Hey, love – do you have anything going on at school later this week?"

Dahlia looked up from the physics text and smiled hopefully. "By that – do you mean anything important?" Beca nodded and Dahlia shook her head. "No, not really."

"Can you miss a few days? Like – all of them – starting tomorrow?"

"Uh – yeah," Dahlia agreed. "I can do that. Why?"

"Want to go to LA for a visit? I have to put in time at the studio – but we can fit in a show or two – and definitely a few good restaurants. Shopping, if you want to punish me for any bad parenting you can think of – "

Dahlia grinned. "I won't make you go shopping, mama."

"Oh, thank god," Beca said with an over-exaggerated sigh of relief. "Have I told you you're my favorite?"

"So rude!" A voice said from behind her. Beca turned to see Bella standing behind her, Jade resting comfortably on her hip. She smiled.

"I heard you come in, Bells."

"Sure you did," Bella said with a sigh. Beca took the baby and Bella walked into the kitchen, kissing Dahlia on her way past. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat at the table. Beca sat across from her and eyed the alcohol. "No," Bella said with a sigh. "If I were a perfect human being, I should not be drinking this. But I've pumped enough to last like a month – so I'm drinking it."

"Gross," Dahlia said under her breath.

"Not judging," Beca said, putting up her free hand in a motion of "whatever you want." She shifted the baby in her arms and smiled as the infant cooed at her. Her tiny fingers reached for Beca's earrings and the older woman unclasped the small platinum hoops from her lobes and set them on the table, out of danger. "Any reason you need to drink?"

"I have two babies who need constant attention – a wife who works full time and wants my attention when she comes home – and I just need a few minutes. I like time to myself. Do you know how much of that I've had since they've been born? None!"

"Welcome to the last thirty years of my life," Beca responded, a wide smile gracing her lips. "You'll be fine." She looked down at Jade. "Your mum is grumpy," she informed the infant. She looked at Bella. "Dahlia and I are going to leave in the morning – head to LA for a few days. I was called in to collaborate with one of my favorites."

"Who?"

"You'll find out when everyone else does," Beca teased.

"Do you want to just stay with us?" Bella asked, looking at Dahlia.

Dahlia frowned at her. "No offense, but think about what you're offering," she suggested. "I can go with mama – miss three days of school – and do fun things in LA. Or I can stay here – and go to school every day – and do nothing different from any other week?"

"Go with Mama," Bella answered.

"We'll miss you," Dahlia answered. She grinned slyly. "But yeah. I'm going with mama."

Two days later, Dahlia was sitting in the coffee shop, absently floating between the book she was reading and her smartphone – where Vera, Chloe, and Beca were all texting with her. Beca was telling her that she was almost ready and the other two were sending pictures and updates of their trip. This was one of their sight-seeing days, so there were lots of pictures.

She might never have noticed the familiar woman walking into the coffee shop if it hadn't been for the scuffle at the counter between an irate woman and the barista over cold coffee. Dahlia watched the argument with some trepidation, but knew she was far enough away to stay uninvolved. Luckily, the manager appeared and invited the customer to leave. As she was leaving in her huff, a familiar woman with long blonde hair walked in and then up to the counter to place her order.

Dahlia's breath was knocked out of her slightly and she shook her head, trying to calm herself. Aubrey had probably no idea who she was – she hadn't seen the woman in almost ten years. She turned in her seat, facing a bit more toward the window and away from the front of the coffee shop. That might have been the end of things – but her heart pounded more as the woman removed her red pea coat and hung it over the back of a chair – not two tables away.

She was concentrating on something on her phone, but Dahlia did catch her looking in her direction once. She considered leaving – but she had nowhere else to wait for her mother. And if she left the coffee shop to stand in the lobby of the studio, she would have to explain that decision to Beca. She was still trying to decide her best plan of attack when she felt a hand on her wrist. She jumped, startled. It was only Beca – who now looked concerned.

"What's going on, Dahlia? I've been trying to get your attention since I walked in here."

Dahlia said nothing, but Beca saw what had caused the anxiety before she stopped speaking. "Hello, Aubrey," she said, turning to face the blonde. Her voice wasn't overly friendly, but it wasn't rude either – it was something in between. Uncertain? Neutral? Kind of frozen?

Aubrey turned and flushed when she saw them. "Beca," she said, forcing a smile to her face. "Wow – oh my. This must be Dahlia, then. You've gotten so big. Grown up, I mean. Not big. You're still very – petite."

Dahlia said nothing, she simply pursed her lips and attempted a smile. It didn't come out well. Aubrey smiled. "You're just visiting – back in LA, I mean? Last I heard – "

"We're still in Georgia," Beca told her. "I had some work to do in LA. So, Dahlia and I are making a trip of it. Chloe's in Europe with Vera. And the twins are at home – their own homes."

Aubrey smiled, this one a bit more genuine. "I heard. Three granddaughters in the span of an hour – your girls certainly keep you on your toes." The uncomfortable truth that one of the granddaughters also belonged to Aubrey remained heavy and unspoken between them.

"You can say that" Beca agreed. "How are you, Aubrey?"

"Fine," she said with another tight smile. "Doing well, for what it is. I'm working again – just part time at a law firm, but I have my own cases, and it's enough to keep me busy. I'd forgotten what it was like to take charge of something like that. I don't hate it," she admitted. Beca could see the familiar gleam in her eye.

"That's good," Beca responded. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure Chloe would want me to say hi – for her. We can't stay – we have reservations for dinner. But it was nice to see you."

"You too," Aubrey answered, smiling gently.

For the first time in her life, Dahlia wished she could drink. She had never snuck alcohol, she had never wanted to try it. Not until this very moment did she have any desire. But her mother certainly seemed to be enjoying her frosted glad of wine that she was brooding over. And she wanted something to take away the weird silence that seemed to have captured them. She knew she had to do something – she would go crazy if it continued.

"Are we just going to pretend that didn't happen?" Beca looked up from where she'd been studying her nails, clearly trying to find a place where the gel had lifted enough to start picking. "Mama, Leave your nails alone. Mom's going to be mad if you pick them off yourself again."

Beca cocked an eyebrow at Dahlia for the chide but put her hands in her lap, probably twirling her rings and playing with her napkin. "We aren't pretending anything. We're waiting for dinner."

"Mama, let's just admit this is weird."

The older woman sighed and ran a hair through her loosely curled brown locks. They were longer now than they were when Dahlia had first been adopted; her heart warmed just a little when she took note of all that again-beautiful hair. "It is weird," Beca admitted. "But I really don't know what else to say about it, love. It is what it is. It's not really something we need to discuss."

"Do you ever miss her?" Dahlia asked. Beca blinked, slightly confused until it sunk in that Dahlia meant Aubrey. She nodded.

"Of course. She was a big part of my life – for a long time. She was the reason I became captain of the Bellas, which oddly enough started my career. She was married to my best friend – she was your mom's best friend for even longer."

"I'm sorry – "

"Don't you start with that," Beca warned. "None of what happened is your fault, Dahlia. Aubrey made her choices – and we all have had to live with the consequences of those choices."

"Can I at least be sorry it happened?" Dahlia asked, causing Beca to turn, her expression falling.

"Of course, love. I'm sorry – I didn't mean to diminish – "

"Please don't start the psychobabble," Dahlia begged. "I'm fine. I promise." Beca nodded, relenting the conversation, and allowing it to die.

Dahlia eventually asked about what she was doing in the studio – and her mother told her what she could. Beca asked about her classes, her violin, her dance classes, and their conversation eventually returned to the easy rhythm it normally held.

"You should try to see her – before we leave," Dahlia said the next morning, stepping into the hotel's expansive bathroom to watch Beca in the mirror as she applied make up and arranged her curls.

"That's not necessary," Beca said, reaching for her brush and beginning to work her hair into a braid instead of leaving it in the loose curls from the day before. Dahlia watched as she expertly twisted her hair into Heidi braids and then loosened them with the end of her comb.

"Mama, it's been almost ten years," Dahlia said softly, her sea green eyes staring at her mother in the mirror. Beca sighed and turned to look at her directly.

"Love, it's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"How could it possibly make anything better?" Beca asked.

Dahlia shrugged. "You can't know unless you try. I think I've heard that somewhere before," she muttered. It was, of course, a phrase that Beca favored when one of her girls was afraid to take a risk.

Beca held her gaze and the young woman didn't blink. "Sometimes," she said with a look of annoyance, "you're as big a smartass as your sister."

"I learned from the best," Dahlia told her, smirking.

"And who, exactly, are you going to spend the evening with if I invite Aubrey to dinner?" Beca asked.

"Katie," Dahlia said matter-of-factly. "Her college is twenty minutes from here. I can take a taxi from the hotel. You can even come with me if you want – it's close to a bunch of nice restaurants."

"Katie probably has her own life, you know."

"She's not busy. I asked." Beca groaned.

"Aubrey could be busy."

Dahlia shrugged "How will you know?" She asked softly, before turning and walking back into the bedroom to finish her preparations for the day.

The quiet was almost deafening. Beca wished she had chosen a noisier restaurant, just to ease the startling silence that remained between them. Finally, the waiter arrived and broke it by telling them about the specials and offering them drinks. Beca ordered a rum and coke while Aubrey requested wine.

"I was surprised," Aubrey said finally, "to receive your call."

"I was surprised to make it," she admitted.

"So why did you?"

Beca paused. She went over her options and decided that holding back made no sense. She would either never see Aubrey again – or she would. This conversation meant everything or nothing. So, she might as well not mince her words.

"The thing I have found most amazing in my life – in being a mother – is watching your children grow up learn from you what you want them to – and certainly what you don't – and if you do things well enough, and luck is on your side, you end up with a human who is better than both you or your partner could ever hope to be. I was that lucky four times. And it was pointed out to me that if didn't reach out to you, I would never know if I should have. What could have been. So, instead of listening to my own stubborn ass, I decided to take the advice of a 17-year-old who will undoubtedly be the best of us yet. Because as she very annoyingly pointed out to me, you don't know until you try."

"I didn't exactly have that experience. I did everything wrong," Aubrey said softly.

"That's going a bit far," Beca said. "There are certainly different choices I wish you had made, but you were never a bad mother. Sometimes nature wins over nurture. Sometimes the opposite is true. Ben is an exceptional person."

Aubrey nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "I know. Jesse and Stacie send me updates, sometimes. I'm glad he has his father, to help him learn how to be a good father. He's lucky to be surrounded by family.

"Have you met Lily?" Beca asked, believing she knew the answer. Her six-month-old granddaughter had never been away from her mother for a night and Beca believed she would have known if Poppy had left the neighborhood, let alone Georgia. Or had a visitor from California. Southerners were talented gossips, and their neighbors were no exception. (Nor was most of their family).

"No," Aubrey said, her smile a pained one. "But I certainly don't expect Ben or Poppy to want me to. I won't ask them for that. I haven't spoken to Ben in almost nine years. I don't believe he'd want to see me."

"I'm sorry."

"I did it to myself. I don't blame anyone else," Aubrey said calmly. Beca's mind raced. She hadn't really faced this reality. She had allowed herself to not think of Aubrey. She still had her family. Her marriage. Her children. Her entire support system. Aubrey had made a mistake. A gruesome, life-altering series of choices. But was it truly unforgivable? And who was Beca to make that decision? Her head pounded and her palms grew clammy. She downed the rest of her drink and thanked the waiter who quickly refilled it. She used her water to down an anxiety pill and pushed the whisky glass away; she'd had enough.

"I don't know what the answer is," Beca told her. "Leaving things, the way they were certainly wasn't. But neither is this."

"Beca," Aubrey said, calmly.

"I don't even know what I'm saying," she responded, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what I hoped to accomplish with this."

"I don't expect anything," Aubrey told her. "You owe me nothing."

"You lost everything," Beca said, angrily. "And I feel like I should somehow apologize for that. But then I think about what happened – and I don't see other choices. And I am still so mad at you when I think about Bella. About basic precautions you could have taken with Dahlia. Even if you didn't believe it, in your gut – you knew."

"I am sorry," Aubrey said. "Truly. I know it doesn't mean much at this point. But I've spent a lot of time in therapy dissecting those years and my choices – and faced the fact that I did a lot of things that I shouldn't have. I endangered people with my own ego and flawed belief system. I lost what I lost because of my choices, Beca. Not your reactions to what happened. You owe me nothing. And you never have."

Beca was crying at this point, but she was trying desperately to keep it at bay by savagely biting the inside of her mouth. She tasted copper. Eventually, she calmed down. She was able to separate her hands – they had been clasped together to keep them from trembling and fidgeting. She sat back and sighed.

After several minutes of silence, she wiped her eyes and reached for her phone. She flipped through to a specific album, pulled an ear bud out of the case in purse, and handed it and the phone to Aubrey. The blond stared at her for a moment until her eyes focused on the phone and she realized what Beca was offering.

"I can't," Aubrey whispered.

Beca shrugged. "I can't offer you a visit. I can't even offer to talk to them. But I can offer you my phone. Your call. But I think it's fine." She sat back and tried to relax while Aubrey watched 6 months of video snippets of Lily Chloe Swanson, her very first grandchild.

Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts, comments, wishes for future vignettes, etc.