Thursday, 6:45 a.m., Rachel
Everybody deals with pressure. Some handle it better than most. Some thrive while others crumble. Usually, Rachel Berry is a cut above the rest. She's resilient. She rises above. And rather impressively for a teenager, she often manages her day-to-day stress with a rigorous diet and exercise. She's up at 6:00 a.m. every day and has a protein shake with banana and flaxseed oil. By 6:10, she's out the door. When she lived in Chicago, she used to hit the elliptical in the gym of their luxury apartment building. But since they moved to Lima, she convinced her dad to let her start running through the neighborhood.
There was a short circuit her dad mapped out that she had to follow. It was an approved three-mile loop that she was instructed not to, under any circumstance, stray away from. She also had to take her phone with her so she could be reached easily and if she didn't want to bring it on her run, she had to leave a note on the kitchen table marking down the time she left the house. Although they lived in a relatively safe and quiet neighborhood, the precautions were there for a reason. Rachel is still very much a young girl and anything can happen, according to her overprotective father. But wanting to give his daughter some independence and recognizing that running helped channel her energy, Hiram relented as long as she followed his rules. And the teenager was always very diligent about adhering to her dad's stipulations. They were easy enough for her to follow in exchange for her needed runs in the morning.
Rachel knows that she's not the most athletic person in the world. Her organized sports career began and ended when she was six-years-old and excitedly kicked the ball into the other team's goal during her first and last pee wee soccer league game. And she only survived middle school gym because she skillfully bribed her more sporty and impressionable peers to protect her during dodgeball in exchange for answers to algebra homework. But the one physical activity apart from dancing that she truly enjoyed was running.
She picked it up from her dad who is an avid runner himself. When Rachel was younger, whenever Hiram trained for his marathons, he often brought his vivacious and energetic little girl along on jogs. He enjoyed the quality time with her and found that it was a positive and healthy way to harness his always adorable but sometimes exhausting ball of fire. Since the move, Rachel adopted her dad's hobby and started running every day as well. Not only did it help keep her in tip-top shape for show choir purposes, she found that it was a good way to de-stress. Running put things into perspective. Everything that she deemed overwhelming always seemed more manageable after a good run. It was working well and it was providing her an outlet to deal with all of the recent upheavals in her life. It usually helped.
Except for today.
It was early Thanksgiving morning and when Rachel was nearing the end of her loop, she hesitated. Her heart pounding, she took one look at her house, picked up her pace, and without looking back, began to run away faster than she's ever ran before in her entire life.
Thursday, 9:15 a.m., Shelby
Shelby was an exceptionally light sleeper. It was learned behavior from years of living in a scrappy apartment building in a less than desirable borough in New York City. Even when she moved back to Lima, she was unable to break the habit. It was common for her to wake up randomly throughout the night at the most insignificant of sounds.
So, when Shelby woke up Thanksgiving morning to the incessant ringing of the doorbell and glanced at the time, the normally restless sleeper was a little more than shocked at how late she had slept in.
She immediately threw the duvet off and got up in a daze. The ringing of the doorbell was now replaced with rapped and intense knocking. The woman flailed around trying to get her bearings and looked for her phone to no avail. Giving up her search, she slipped on her robe, messily put her hair up, and made her way down the stairs in haste.
A sinking feeling in her stomach grew immediately once she recognized Hiram's muffled voice trying to call her attention. Still flustered, she quickly unlocked the front door and met his deeply concerned expression.
"Hiram? What's going on—"
"Is Rachel here?" He cut her off harshly. "I've been calling you for more than an hour. Why haven't you been picking up?"
"No, Rachel's not here. I-I just woke up. I don't know where my phone is," Shelby stammered and looked at the man questioningly. Where was her child?
Hiram clumsily let himself inside the house and paused for a moment to compose himself. He gripped the edge of the entryway table for support and stood up straight, trying to take deep, generous breaths. Shelby swallowed anxiously taking in his frazzled appearance. He was wearing a loose t-shirt and running shorts and was drenched in sweat. It looked like he just sprinted the six miles to her house. He had.
"Hiram? What's happening? Where's Rachel?" Shelby demanded.
"I don't know," Hiram finally answered, still attempting to control his labored breathing. "I thought she was with you. She goes on a run every morning around 6:15 and she's always back by 6:45 the latest. She didn't bring her cell phone. And she didn't write down the time she left. She knows the rules. No phone means to leave a note. I woke up around 6:30. When she wasn't back by 7:00, I left for my run thinking that I'd bump into her. I—Shelby, I ran the loop she does every morning twice and I didn't see her. She hasn't been home. I only ran here looking for her because she asked about doing it the other day. I don't know where she is. And she didn't say she had any plans this morning, I don't think. Did she say anything to you?" He rambled nervously without a single pause.
The mother was fighting down her panic trying to process everything that Hiram just said. She tried to think. Has Rachel said anything to her? She hasn't seen her daughter since the weekend. She got so busy with work that she didn't even have time to take Rachel to school this week or see her Monday or Wednesday evening. She swallowed again and her throat suddenly felt so dry. She shook her head no.
"Fuck," Hiram said breathlessly. "I called Leroy and my family here and no one's heard from her. My neighbor is watching out for her right now and I told her to call me if she sees her come back. Shelby, she doesn't do this. At all. Something's wrong. Can you call her friend Quinn or maybe your sister?"
Shelby was struck with fear, paralyzed, her heart beating at an alarming rate. Her thoughts were also racing, the worst case scenarios running through her head.
"Shelby!" Hiram practically shouted when the woman didn't answer, his panic nearing levels he didn't know even existed.
"Okay, yeah, hang on, let me find my phone," Shelby replied and jumped into action. She walked towards her study with a ferocious purpose.
"What did Rachel say to you last night when we stopped by?" Hiram inquired as he followed the woman through the house, hot on her heels.
Shelby stopped dead in her tracks and turned around abruptly.
"What are you talking about? I didn't see Rachel last night."
"What are you talking about? Yes you did," Hiram insisted, his irritation growing at how unhelpful the woman was being. "We stopped by around 8:00 on our way home to drop off a copy of the custody arrangement. Rachel let herself in cause she wanted to see you. She said she talked to you."
"Around 8:00? No she didn't," Shelby responded, shaking her head in confusion. "I was home but I definitely didn't see her. I think I might've been on a call then? I haven't even seen the custody papers anywhere. And I haven't seen Rachel since Saturday."
"Well, she said she talked to you and I literally watched her walk into the house. She was in here for maybe less than ten minutes?"
"I—I don't know. Why wouldn't she come see me?" Shelby all-but whispered, a mixture of fright and dread coloring her expression.
"I have no idea," Hiram sniped. "I don't know what's going on with her, but can we get back to calling her friends. Maybe she's with Quinn? And she didn't say anything to you during your call before bed last night either?"
"No," Shelby froze and pure guilt scratched at her throat. "I was so distracted with trying to wrap up things for VA last night. It was really late by the time I finished and figured she was already asleep."
"Great," Hiram retorted and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Just great, Shelby. What is even going on with you this week? Do you not have time for your daughter anymore?"
"Hey, absolutely not. You do not get to do that," Shelby replied with a fierce bark in her voice and shook her head defensively. "I get that you're worried about Rachel and I am too, but you do not get to speak to me that way. We are not going to fall apart now, not when we have to find our daughter."
Hiram took a steadying breath and nodded remorsefully. He knew that he needed to subdue his temper. He was being unfair.
"Sorry," the father said apologetically. "I'm sorry, Shelby. You're right. Let's just find Rachel."
Wednesday, the night before, 8:00 p.m., Rachel
Walking up to the front door of her mother's house, Rachel deliberated for a few moments. She briefly thought about knocking but then pulled out her keys instead to let herself in. Shelby had insisted that Rachel can come there whenever she wanted or needed.
She hastily unlocked the door and stepped into the inviting warmth. She wiped her shoes on the doormat languidly and listened for movement in the house. Hearing nothing but silence, she decided to make her way to the kitchen.
"Mom?" Rachel called out quietly.
She doesn't know why she was being so timid. But she felt nervous for some reason. She hasn't seen her mom in a few days and it was the longest that they'd been apart for a while. It was weird. And it made her feel uneasy. On top of everything she was already feeling that week.
Shelby vaguely explained to her that things had come up and that she needed to work extra hours, so she could be free for the holiday weekend and can just focus on spending it with her and their family. Rachel understood but she was taken aback by how unavailable her mom has been. She wasn't trying to be needy, but the closer it got Thanksgiving, the more anxious she became.
Rachel felt unprepared. Wholly unprepared.
Her parents informed her that she would be spending the afternoon celebrating with Hiram and his family and the evening with Shelby and her family. It would be the first time that Rachel would be meeting her mom's entire family. And the whole day would be the first holiday that she'd spent apart from Leroy.
Overwhelmed wasn't an appropriate enough term to describe the onslaught of conflicting emotions that was building inside of her.
She couldn't talk to her dad about it because he seemed hell-bent on moving on and he was better than she was at pretending like everything was normal. She halfheartedly tried talking about it with Quinn, but the blonde seemed more absorbed with her current feud with her sister than anything else. Her first choice would've been her mom. But Shelby had practically gone MIA. Rachel was hoping for some face-time tonight and needed her mom to talk her off the ledge.
Rachel scrunched her brows together when she walked into the empty kitchen. She found an abandoned plate of food on the counter and deduced that it was recently warmed up. Continuing her search, she stuck her head out of the adjacent hallway and saw the light on in her mother's study. She also heard the faint sound of her speaking past the half-closed door.
"Mom? It's me," Rachel called out again, a little louder this time. She walked down the hallway and waited for Shelby to acknowledge her. She paused right outside the door when she didn't get a response and peered into the study.
She raised her fist to knock but hesitated once she heard her mom talk into her phone.
"I'm sorry, Marty. I don't know what to tell you," Shelby said while she massaged the kinks out of her neck with her free hand. "I haven't had any time. I've been on-the-go this week and I just feel like my feet haven't touched the ground."
Rachel frowned at the distress evident in her mom's voice but didn't make another move to allow her presence be known. Shelby was absentmindedly walking around the office space and stopped to look out the window, her back turned towards the door.
"No, I haven't read it. And I'm not going to read it," Shelby replied to her long-time manager proposing new projects on the other line. "You know I can't go back to New York now. I absolutely can't. Not when I have Rachel."
Shelby let out a long sigh in annoyance. This wasn't her first conversation with the man about this. She's already made it clear that her only priority right now was her daughter, despite the incredibly compelling offers being thrown her way recently. It wasn't the right time for her to return to Broadway. She would never entertain the idea of moving away from Rachel now.
Out in the hallway, Rachel predictably and unfortunately mistook Shelby's annoyance with Marty for frustration with her. Was she keeping her mom from New York and from what she really wanted? Shelby had said can't. Not that she didn't want to. There was a difference to the girl.
Her uneasiness instantly doubled and she walked away dejectedly, no longer having the desire to speak with her mom. Clearly, she was preoccupied.
Rachel stormed out of the house before she could change her mind and stuffed the purpose of the visit in the mailbox on her way back to the car.
Later that night, Rachel called her mom a few times as she struggled to control her growing anxiety. She even stayed up patiently, hoping that she'd at least continue to honor their bedtime calls. Shelby never did.
Thursday, 9:30 a.m., Rachel
Rachel doesn't know how long or how far she ran.
All she focused on was the feeling of the air on her skin, the breath going in and out of her lungs, her muscles contracting, and her heart beating in her chest. She wasn't even the slightest bit aware of anything else as the world around her blurred by.
Eventually, Rachel gave in. It all became too much for the young girl and she unwillingly sank down to the sidewalk; her legs not able to support her anymore. She put her face in her hands and relinquished control. She surrendered to the anger, frustration, sadness, and confusion over the recent unending and drastic changes in her life. Rachel gave vent to her feelings with no more reservations as heavy sobs wracked through her small frame.
At some point, she moved the few feet to a nearby bench and sat down, unable to move as her raging emotions continued to batter her against the proverbial rocks.
Thursday, 9:45 a.m., Robert
Robert Corcoran had only two jobs on Thanksgiving mornings. He was to one, pick up last-minute random groceries that Anne needed for their family gathering and two, steer clear of his wife's kitchen.
He was on phase two of his annual duties when he froze in his tracks catching a glimpse of a young brunette sitting on a bench a few yards in front of him. He was on his way home from the grocery store and decided to take a leisurely walk through the park. Unlike the women in his life, Robert loved the outdoors and took every advantage he could to enjoy nature and the fresh air. It was a relaxing jaunt so far but the moment he saw his granddaughter, his heart rate picked up significantly. He could never mistake Rachel for anyone else. She was the consummate carbon copy of his oldest daughter.
Robert tightened his grip on the grocery bag in his hand and walked over to the girl cautiously. His palms began to sweat taking in Rachel's noticeably bothered appearance and his frown deepened realizing that the young girl was crying. He looked around half-expecting to see his daughter, but his worry intensified realizing that Rachel was all alone. Unsure of what to do next but equally uneager to leave the clearly troubled teenager by herself, he walked up to the bench carefully.
"Ra—are you okay?" He asked apprehensively. Robert was uncertain of whether or not he should introduce himself. They weren't due to meet until later on in the day. In fact, he couldn't sleep last night because of the excitement. But he was definitely ill-prepared for the current state that his grandchild was in.
"I'm—is everything alright?" He asked softly. He stood awkwardly a couple feet in front of her. Obviously Rachel was upset and the last thing he wanted to do was crowd her or scare her off
After what felt like the longest few seconds of his life, Rachel finally looked up and the amount of hurt prominent across her features literally took Robert's breath away. He had to mentally restrain himself from pulling his granddaughter into his arms. She reminded him too much of a certain emotional little girl that he used to spend hours comforting.
Finally starting to be aware of her surroundings and of the stranger looking over at her, Rachel nodded her head. She sniffled loudly and wiped the remnants of her breakdown off her face with the sleeve of her shirt. Robert grimaced slightly at the action and pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket to offer to the girl.
Rachel looked at it and then up at him questioningly. Robert offered her a kind smile and extended it closer to her. The teenager tentatively accepted and blew her nose hard, extremely embarrassed by her very public meltdown.
"Thank you," Rachel hiccuped sadly as her crying thankfully began to slow down. She inhaled deeply and tried to control her ragged breathing. "I'm okay."
"Can I—do you mind if I sit down?"
Rachel glanced at the empty spot next to her. She didn't exactly feel like talking to a complete stranger right now, but she had just contaminated his once-pristine handkerchief. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and quickly examined him. The tall and slender old man had an NYU baseball cap on and was holding a brown bag full of groceries. He gave her a small smile once she made eye contact, completely aware that she was sizing him up. She looked into his soft and caring green eyes that reminded her of someone else's, but couldn't exactly place whose at the moment. He seemed unthreatening enough. She nodded in agreement.
Thrilled, Robert set the groceries down between them and sat down on the bench. He wiped his hands on his knees and snuck a peek at his grandchild, concern growing once again when he realized that she was only wearing shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt. He instantly moved to take his jacket off.
"Are you cold? How long have you been outside?" He inquired as he volunteered his jacket to her.
"I—I don't know. I'm just out for a run," Rachel furrowed her eyebrows, beyond confused by the man's actions.
"I insist," Robert assured. He mimicked his movements with the handkerchief exchange earlier and Rachel, who was slowly starting to feel the effects of being out in bitter cold for hours, once again reluctantly accepted.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Rachel asked quietly as she wrapped herself up in the man's jacket that was three sizes too big for her.
Robert peered at Rachel again and thought briefly for a moment on how to approach this. He swallowed nervously and then cleared his throat.
"I have two daughters," he replied, his tone gentle. "And if either of them were at a park all alone and crying, I would want someone to stop and make sure that they were okay."
Rachel didn't respond and the silence broke Robert's heart even more.
"Are you okay?" The grandfather prompted.
"I don't know."
"How come?"
"I don't know," the teenager repeated and sighed heavily.
Rachel wasn't lying when she said that, in her eyes, her life was perfect before her dads got divorced. It was wonderful, and she's overcome with sadness every time she thinks about how it all ended. At the same time, all of those feelings were wrapped up with the happiness and joy she felt about finally having her mom in her life. It was all so confusing for her, and she didn't even have words to properly describe everything she felt. Recently, she was so consumed with the idea that if her dads hadn't got divorced, then she wouldn't have her mom. That thought has done nothing but fill her with unadulterated guilt. She hated that one had to happen for her to have the other. And above all that, Rachel just wanted her mom to tell her that it was all okay, but Shelby didn't seem to care.
"I just feel like I'm being pushed and pulled in all of these different directions," Rachel responded honestly. "There's been a lot of changes in my life."
Robert nodded thoughtfully in understanding.
"Bad changes?"
"And good, I guess," the young girl shrugged and blew her nose again. "Just a lot. And it's kinda overwhelming."
"Have you talked to your parents about what you're feeling?"
"A little, but it's hard. I don't know, it's—complicated? They're all going through a lot too."
"I'm certain though that whatever you are feeling is more important to them."
"I'm not so sure about that," Rachel said dismally, thinking about how ignored she felt by her mom.
"Do your parents know where you are?" Robert investigated, the thought just occurred to him.
"Uh—no," said Rachel, her posture stiffening as she realized how much trouble she going to be in. She must've been gone for a while. "Do you know what time it is?"
"It's almost 10:00," Robert answered after glancing at his watch. Rachel's eyes widened at the response.
"They're going to kill me," the teenager whispered to herself.
Recognizing the panic beginning to brew inside of the young girl, Robert tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Rachel's forearm, as if he was reminding her to stay with him in this moment.
"Everything will be alright," Robert promised his granddaughter once he captured her attention. "I know what you mean. I understand that feeling of when it seems like everything is out of your control. I understand feeling like you're in over your head. I agree. It is overwhelming. And it is more than okay to feel that way. It does not make you weak. There is nothing wrong with it. But, young lady, take it from an old man, I guarantee you that in the end, everything will be okay. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually, it will all be okay."
"How do you know?" The girl couldn't help but ask, insecurity and emotions raw in her voice.
"Because your mom, dads, and I will make sure of it, Rachel," Robert answered truthfully.
Rachel whipped her head to face him, her eyes wild with shock as recognition slowly but surely sunk in.
"Hi sweetheart," the old man smiled kindly while he grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'm Robert, I'm your grandpa."
Thursday, 10:00 a.m., Shelby
"Yes Kim, I'll let you know as soon as we find her. Thanks," Shelby replied and hung up, slamming her phone down on the table in frustration. She looked up at Hiram hopefully and he shook his head no as he wrapped up his call with his ex husband.
Shelby sighed and rubbed her temples, trying to alleviate the pressure headache she felt coming on. Earlier, the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach grew exponentially when she found her cell phone and noticed that her daughter had called her three times the night before. How could she have missed it? Not just one but all three of her calls? She automatically felt like the worst mother in the entire universe. There were no words for how bad she felt.
"I think Leroy's this close to getting on a plane," Hiram said, pinching the air between his thumb and index finger together.
Shelby nodded distractedly and tried to gather her thoughts. She needed to find her kid.
"What does Rachel do when she's upset?" Shelby questioned the man who raised her child.
"Storm off, sulk, sing, dance, apparently run away," Hiram listed as he paced in front of her office desk.
"Does she usually like to be alone or with other people?"
"I don't know. Maybe both?"
"Okay well—" The loud ringing of Shelby's cell phone cut her off and she didn't waste a second picking it up. Hiram stopped his pacing immediately and watched Shelby answer the call.
"Dad?" Shelby replied to the other line, a puzzled look taking over her entire face "I don't—what? She's with you? Is she okay? Where was she?" She spouted out rapidly.
"Rachel's okay?" Hiram mouthed. Shelby nodded in confirmation and the father let out a breath he felt like he's been holding for hours. He plopped down on the chair behind him at the sudden expulsion of all his worry.
"Are you sure she's alright?" Shelby asked again, needing concrete affirmation that her child was safe and sound. "Okay. Yes. Thanks, dad. We'll see you there."
Shelby set her phone down and in an instant, felt an intense flood of emotions rapidly hit her, relief bubbling to the top. She felt her knees buckle slightly and she grabbed the edge of the desk with a vice-like grip in order to steady herself. The woman dropped her head and released a shaky breath.
"Shelby?" Hiram called out with concern.
Shelby shook her head furiously as tears of guilt and regret welled up her green eyes. She blinked them back fiercely and forced herself to keep it together.
"Um—my dad said he ran into her at the park. He said she's a bit shaken up? But that they are going to walk over to my parent's together to pick up his car and he'll drop her off at your house," she relayed the information. Shelby hesitated for a few more moments but finally looked up with a pained expression written across her face, unshed tears hanging from her long lashes as her bottom lip trembled. "She's okay. But Hiram, I—I think I messed up."
Thursday, 10:30 a.m., Rachel
Rachel sat in the passenger seat of her grandpa's car, still in complete shock at the turn of events. She had her hands clasped tightly on her lap but only to stop them from shaking. The anxiety was rearing its ugly head again. It wasn't the unexpected meeting with her grandpa that was making her nervous. It was the thought of dealing with her parents at the end of the car ride.
She didn't mean to run away or disappear. Not on purpose.
She didn't know what to expect next. She was still operating on emotional overdrive. Truthfully, she was a little more than afraid of what her parents' reactions were going to be. Her mind whirling, she didn't realize that her grandpa had pulled up to the curb outside of her dad's house.
Robert gave the girl a few more seconds to herself. She'd been living in her head since they left the park and he thought giving her space was the best course of action. His number one priority right now was getting the missing teenager back to her worried parents.
"Rachel?"
"I'm scared," the teen confessed, making eye contact with her grandfather.
"Oh Rachel, everything will be alright," Robert said convincingly. "I meant what I said earlier. I know you're going through a lot, but I also know that everything will work out. Your mom and your dads love you. You'll all get through this together. And I know we just met, but I'm always here for you too. I promise you that."
Her grandpa's tone was gentle and understanding, not judging or pushy. And it made Rachel feel like he was telling her the truth. The way he looked at her, she had no option but to believe him.
"Thank you—grandpa," Rachel said, testing the label. She liked it.
Robert beamed in response, his heart feeling full. He could get used to that.
"Anytime, Rachel," he promised. "You'll be okay. I know it. You are a Corcoran after all."
Rachel looked at him in surprise and couldn't help but smile at the acknowledgement. However, her face fell just as quickly watching her mom's Range Rover pull up in the driveway.
"You won't let them kill me?" Rachel asked with hope, intently watching her mom and dad get out of the car.
"I will try my best," Robert chuckled, not making any promises knowing his daughter. "But you, young lady, have to promise me that you won't run away anymore. Even accidentally. You worried a lot of people this morning."
"Sorry," Rachel apologized meekly. "I didn't mean to."
"I know, sweetheart," Robert said empathetically. "Now this is the hard part, but you've got this. Saying you're sorry, staying calm, and being honest will go a long way, just remember that."
Thursday, 10:45 a.m., Shelby
Shelby's stomach flipped maybe a dozen times waiting for Rachel to get out of her father's car. Hiram was still talking about all the ways he was going to punish their daughter for this transgression, but Shelby tuned him out a while ago, preoccupied with her growing feelings of intense guilt.
She watched Rachel open the car door and share look with Robert who gave her an encouraging nod. The mother felt another pang of guilt flow through her noticing how weary her daughter looked as she got out of the car.
Shelby stood up straighter and squared her shoulders as Rachel approached them. She made the first move and stepped forward to pull her daughter into her arms but Rachel took one look at her with betrayed eyes and walked over to Hiram instead.
Shelby's heart instantly shattered into a million pieces. Not that she ever wanted Rachel to play favorites, but the rejection hurt her in ways she didn't believe was possible.
"You have no idea how much trouble you're in Rachel Barbra," the father said as he gathered up his only child into a fierce hug. He held her tightly and shot Shelby an apologetic look. He had seen their daughter's clear rebuff of her. Shelby shook her head and waved it off.
"What were you thinking, Rachel?" The man demanded a moment right after she pulled away.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time," the teenager replied, dropping her gaze. "I don't know I—"
"The rules are there for a reason," Hiram cut her off, his relief rapidly turning into anger now that he had physical proof that his child was safe. "You were missing for hours, Rachel! That is not okay. This is precisely why I tell you to bring your phone or leave a note. Anything could've happened. We had no idea where to you find you. Were you even thinking? Were you—"
"Hey Hiram," Robert interjected as he walked up behind the man and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to overstep, but I think Rachel's had a long morning. How about we let her warm up first? And I think it might be better if you all take this discussion inside?"
Hiram stopped and scrutinized his daughter for the first time and sighed taking in her worn out appearance. He peeked at Shelby who seemed frozen in place.
"Fine," he agreed. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to the young girl. "Go inside and call your daddy, Rach. He's worried sick about you."
Rachel nodded remorsefully and took the phone in her hand. She started to move to take her grandpa's jacket off.
"Keep it on," Robert insisted and winked at his granddaughter. "It looks better on you anyway."
Rachel allowed a small smile to grace her lips and unexpectedly flung herself into her grandpa's arms.
"Everything will be okay," Robert whispered into her ear as he accepted the embrace, savoring in the physical affection from his oldest grandchild. "And I hope I see you soon, Rachel. Whenever you're ready."
"See you soon, grandpa," Rachel whispered back and then promptly turned on her heel and walked away, still refusing to acknowledge her mother.
The slight slam of the front door thrusted Shelby back into the moment. She blinked hard and drew her attention back to the two men in front of her.
"Thanks for bringing her back here, Robert," Hiram said, shaking the older man's hand. "It was lucky she ran into you."
"She was crying earlier. She said she's feeling overwhelmed by all the changes. If you ask me, I think the anxiety about today triggered her. I suggest you talk to her about that," Robert spoke firmly as he shared his information with the two parents. He made sure to keep his eye contact with his daughter, who looked more and more pained at every word.
"Okay," Hiram nodded solemnly. "Thanks again, Robert. It was good seeing you. Wish it were under better circumstances, but perhaps we can all have dinner together sometime soon?"
Robert agreed and shook the man's hand again. As soon as Hiram disappeared into the house, he turned to Shelby who had yet to speak a word. He sighed and pulled his daughter into his arms.
Shelby immediately melted into her father's embrace and let the familiar comfort sweep away some of her overflowing hurt.
"Daddy, I missed her calls," Shelby said, mentally wincing when her voice cracked. "I don't—I missed it all."
Robert gently pried Shelby off so he can look into her eyes, almost identical to his, that bore nothing but pure regret.
"Shelly, what were you even doing this week that had you so preoccupied?" Robert questioned without rancor. "My granddaughter made it sound like you practically abandoned her."
"Work," Shelby admitted and ran her hand through her wild hair in frustration. "Over the weekend, my boss Tim told me that if VA impressed at our Holiday Showcase, then he'd convince the Booster Club to make room in the budget for me to be able to hire an assistant coach. Having an assistant coach means having more time for Rachel. The Showcase is in a week, and I figured that if I put in all the legwork now, then I can just focus on Rachel this weekend. I didn't know that she was feeling so stressed out. I didn't realize. I'm not used to balancing roles like this, dad. And even Tim said that I've been distracted recently and I guess I also took that as a personal attack. I've worked so hard to turn VA into what we are now, and I got defensive and felt like I needed to protect what I built and prove to him that I could still deliver. But I did that at Rachel's expense. And I feel so horrible about it. I'm messing everything up."
Robert just stared at his daughter, thoroughly impressed that she was able to confess all of that without pausing for a single breath, a skill that he's going to attribute to her years of Broadway training.
"I see," he said in understanding, pieces of the puzzle starting to come together. "Well, you're not messing everything up. But you did mess this up."
Shelby felt her heart drop. She already hated herself at the moment, but disappointing her dad was just the icing on the cake.
Robert could literally feel rather than see his child's distress. He sighed again realizing that giving her encouragement would serve her better than reprimanding his oldest daughter. He shifted gears and softened his entire stance.
"Shelly-Bean, please listen to me," he implored as he gently lifted his daughter's chin up so they could make eye contact, he really needed her to hear this. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I meant to say that you're a good mother. And I know this because I know you're trying. I also know you must be under a tremendous amount of pressure, so it's not a surprise that this happened. But this was just an unintended mistake. I know it's tough for you to swallow sometimes, but you're not perfect Shel. And nobody expects you to be. Messing up is a huge part of being a parent. We make mistakes too, you know this. And we're certainly allowed to from time to time. It's what we do with the mistakes and after that counts."
"She wouldn't even look at me dad," Shelby said brokenly as the guilt gnawed at her insides.
"Tell Rachel that you love her and apologize," Robert continued. "Let her know that you're trying and that you're doing your best but that you're also adjusting. These are big changes for you too, and she'll understand that. You'll get through this. Just be sincere and honest. And I know I don't have to remind you to do and be better for your daughter moving forward. I am always so proud of you, of everything you've accomplished, of how hard you work, but you're also a mother now, Shelby. Rachel must come first."
Shelby nodded in acknowledgement at her father's words, her eyes glazed with tears. He was right. She had the very fresh and stinging memory of Rachel's dismissal of her burning a guilty hole into her heart to deter her from making this mistake again.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Robert said, reading his daughter well. "You just stumbled this time, but it's nothing you can't recover from. Rachel loves you. And you've got good instincts. Just go in there, listen, and help her through this as best as you can."
Shelby soaked up more of her dad's wisdom and guidance before saying goodbye. Opening the door slowly, she reluctantly steeled her resolve and carried on. She needed to fix things between her and her kid.
Shelby doesn't know how everything went from bad to worse in a matter of minutes. But it had.
The moment she walked into the kitchen, she almost choked on the tension in the room.
Father and daughter were standing across the island glaring daggers at one another, both looked like they were mentally preparing to wage war.
"What's going on in here?" Shelby inquired, approaching the situation cautiously. She stood at the far end of the long countertop in between the pair.
"Rachel Barbra Berry, you are on thin ice," Hiram seethed. "I said go up to your room right now and get ready."
"No!" Rachel spat back. "And like I told you I'm not going anywhere!"
All in one swift motion, Hiram rolled his head and cracked his neck then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"This is the last time I am asking you, Rachel," Hiram said in a dangerously low and serious voice. "Please go upstairs, take a shower, and get ready. Be down here and ready to go to your uncle's in exactly one hour or else."
Shelby looked at Hiram in complete disbelief. He couldn't possibly be telling their daughter to get ready to carry on with her day as if nothing just happened.
"No. I don't want to go," Rachel countered back in contempt. She got an obstinate look in her face and crossed her arms.
"Hiram, I don't think—" Shelby tried to intervene.
"I'm sorry princess, but you don't have a choice," Hiram replied calmly, ignoring Shelby.
"Don't call me that!" The teenager barked and shook her head viciously. "Only daddy gets to call me that, and you can't because you pushed him away and you ruined everything!"
Shelby winced, surprised at the amount of venom in Rachel's voice. She glanced at Hiram who looked completely stricken.
"Rachel—" Hiram lowered his voice.
"No. I hate you!" Rachel yelled. She practically threw her half empty glass of water in the sink, and Shelby was surprised that it didn't shatter. The teen stormed out of the room and left two utterly speechless adults in the room.
"Hiram—"
"I'm going up there to talk to her. She can't speak to me that way," the father remarked, his expression full of shock.
"She didn't mean it," Shelby replied instantly, attempting to diffuse the situation. "She's just overwhelmed. Let's just give her space."
"No, absolutely not," Hiram moved to follow his daughter but Shelby reacted faster and cut him off at the door. "Please move."
"You can't go up there," Shelby said sternly. "You have to calm down first. You both aren't thinking clearly right now. You need to give her some time."
"Shelby, move. That was not okay. I get that Rachel is upset, but she cannot go and disrespect me like that."
"And we will discuss that later, but right now, Rachel is not in any state for us to be disciplining her. She is not okay, why can't you see that?"
"Oh, just like how you saw how upset she was all week? Cause you're definitely mother of the year. Move, Shelby. And don't tell me what to do with my daughter."
Shelby felt all the air whoosh out of her lungs as she absorbed what Hiram just said. She reeled back as if she had just been struck. She couldn't hide the surprise. And Hiram himself couldn't even believe what he just said.
"Your daughter?" She choked out.
"Shelby, I am so sorry, I didn't mean that," Hiram apologized immediately.
Shelby raised her hand to cut him off and shook her head imperceptibly. Breathing deeply, she tried to get herself under control, but felt like she was close to losing it. She glanced up at the stairs and let out a sigh of relief noticing Rachel's closed door.
Without thinking, Shelby spun on her heel and walked out the front door. Unsure of what else to do, Hiram sorrowfully followed the woman outside and closed the door behind him.
"I'm so sorry, Shelbs," Hiram began to apologize again. He felt terrible. His temper always got the best of him.
Shelby paced anxiously, trying to fight the torrent of emotions assaulting her right now, and losing. After a few moments, she stopped and stared at Hiram as seriously as he's ever seen her.
"We have a little girl up there who's having panic attacks and running away because of decisions that we all made 14 years ago, so don't you dare blame this on me," Shelby finally snapped. She wasn't yelling, but she wasn't fully composed either. "Hiram. You're a great father. I know you are. Rachel thinks the world of you and Leroy, but how could you both miss this? I know our reunion hasn't been a walk in the park and I know that I dropped the ball this week. Believe me, I know. But this—whatever is happening with our baby—is deep-rooted. This is something that's been building up for months. That you missed. That we missed. And we have to fix it. We need to fix it, because I will no longer tolerate seeing my child this unhappy. Do you understand me, Hiram? So please, or so help me God, please put away your pride and work with me to help our daughter."
"Okay," Hiram said as he felt all the anger drain out of him. Shelby's tone left no room for argument and he knew that he had also messed this up for his daughter. "You're right. We'll fix this. We'll talk to Rachel. We can get her some help. Maybe someone to talk to? We'll figure it out."
"Together," Shelby added sternly.
"Together," Hiram confirmed.
Shelby made her way up to Rachel's room a few minutes later, leaving Hiram downstairs to collect himself. She needed to focus right now on her daughter.
As soon as she got to the closed door, she knocked on it gently.
"Go away!" Rachel shouted from inside the room.
"Rach? It's mom," Shelby replied. "May I please come in?"
Shelby held her breath waiting for Rachel to respond. After a few seconds of silence, she made a split second decision to open the door and let herself in, thanking God that it was unlocked.
Her heart broke finding her child sitting on her bed hugging her knees and softly crying. Shelby moved to sit in front of her and placed a comforting hand on her arm.
"What can I do, Rach?" Shelby asked desperately. "How can I help?"
Rachel shook her head, still refusing to look up and recoiled away from her mother's touch. She didn't want any of her comfort right now.
"Leave me alone," Rachel mumbled.
"Baby, please don't shut me out," Shelby begged, her voice thick with emotion. She couldn't bear the thought of Rachel not talking to her right now.
Deep brown eyes looked up a moment later, hurt and full of pain.
"You promised me," Rachel said, her tone more muted and flat than Shelby has ever heard. "You said you'd always be here for me, you said that I come first."
"I'm so sorry, Rachel," Shelby apologized with her entire heart. "I should have never put work before you this week. I wasn't thinking and I—this is hard for me too. I'm still learning how to be a mom, and I know I haven't been a very good one lately. But I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't important to me. You matter the most and I promise to never forget that."
Rachel looked at her mom and couldn't mistake the unadulterated look of regret for anything else. She heard her and she believed her, which made her more angry and confused than anything else.
The mother could see a whole conversation going on in her daughter's head but she was apparently not willing to voice her thoughts, and that hurt Shelby more than anything else. She had worked so hard to slowly build Rachel's trust, and it seemed like they were back to square one. She mentally berated herself again at the lack of response. She only had herself to blame.
"Baby," Shelby tried again, this time moving to pull her daughter in for a hug. Rachel wasn't having it and pushed Shelby off a little more forcibly than she had intended. The power of the shove forced Shelby up to her feet.
Looking at her mom's startled expression, Rachel felt another dam inside of her crumble and a flood of tears automatically streamed down her face. She couldn't think clearly now if she tried. She shook her head, her vision blurring rapidly.
"Don't call me that," Rachel sobbed. "I'm not your baby. You gave me away. You didn't want me."
Shelby froze at Rachel's pronouncement. She felt every single nerve inside of her scream out in pain. Speechless, she opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. The silence between them thickened and Rachel's crying intensified in a way she didn't believe was possible.
Rooted to her spot, she stared at her child helplessly. Once she heard Rachel's breathing start to turn panicked, she jumped into action. She hesitated and glanced at her kid one more time before turning around and making her way to Rachel's bathroom.
Shelby began opening drawers and cabinets frantically before she found what she was looking for. Spraying the multipurpose cleaner with a determined purpose, she began cleaning the bathtub in haste. Scrubbing hard until she was satisfied, she turned the faucet on with a shaky hand and began drawing her daughter a bath.
She made her way back to the other room and sighed at the sight of Rachel, who seemed paralyzed apart from the jagged crying. She walked over to her child and ignored the way Rachel flinched as she approached.
Shelby crouched down so she could be eye level with her daughter and tentatively reached out to brush Rachel's unkempt hair out of her face. She grabbed her chin gently and tilted her head to force her to make eye contact.
"I love you, Rachel," Shelby said, giving her a soft smile. "I love you so much and I know that even if you don't want me right now that you still need me, and that's why I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever."
Before she could respond, Shelby pulled her up to her feet and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it tightly, trying to pour all her love to her broken daughter.
Shelby led her into the en suite and guided her to front of the bathtub. Still crying quietly, Rachel only looked at her mom with confusion.
"I need you to calm down, Rach. You need to relax before you work yourself up again. Can I help you do that?"
Rachel examined the bathtub that was almost full of warm water and nodded. Shelby released a sigh of relief and tested the water first before shutting off the faucet.
"Lift your arms up for me ba—Rachel," Shelby urged. The young girl furrowed her brows and blushed red at the suggestion.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before Rach," Shelby said in understanding. She began wiping her tears off with the pads of her thumbs, absolutely sick of seeing her child weep. "I just want to help."
Rachel gingerly lifted her arms and Shelby made a quick work of helping her undress. She slowly guided her child into the bathtub and began helping her wash up.
Outside, Shelby appeared calm and collected; but inside, she was falling apart just as fast as Rachel's tears were falling. She hated seeing her daughter this way. It filled her with a sadness that she's never experienced before.
Shelby took her time washing her child up delicately, trying her best to help her relax. At some point, she began to hum a random melody softly, needing to fill the silence with anything else but Rachel's cries. She dropped some shampoo in her hands and started to massage it into the young girl's hair, gently scratching her scalp in a soothing manner. Shelby smiled to herself noticing Rachel close her eyes and begin to relax at her touch. After a few minutes, Shelby got up from her spot at the edge of the tub and broke the silence.
"I'm going to get some clothes for you, are you okay to finish up here?" Shelby asked.
Rachel opened her eyes and turned her head to face her mom. Shelby smiled again realizing that the tears had finally stopped. Remaining silent, the teenager only nodded.
"Okay love, I will be right back," The mother promised as she walked out of the bathroom.
Rachel used the moment of privacy to regroup. The only emotion that she could register right now was sheer exhaustion. She submerged herself underwater very briefly and took solace in the quietness it brought. Bringing her head above water, she inhaled deeply until she felt her lungs burn, and exhaled slowly, allowing some calm to enter her body for the first time since she woke up that morning. She massaged her muscles tenderly knowing that she was going to be extremely sore the next day. A knock on the door and her mother's voice interrupted her a few moments later.
Rachel stood up carefully, testing her balance, and accepted her mom's hand to use as support to get out of the tub.
Shelby wrapped her daughter up in a large towel and began to dry her off with as much attention as possible. Rachel just stood there allowing Shelby to care for her, too tired to fight it. Once she was done, Shelby looked into her daughter's reddened eyes and leaned over and kissed her forehead before she could think twice about it. Her lips lingered realizing that Rachel hadn't pulled away that time.
"I'll let you get changed," The mother decided. She picked up the hairbrush by the sink before walking out. "But I'll help brush your hair whenever you're ready."
Shelby patiently sat the edge of Rachel's bed for a little while, not permitting herself to think about anything or feel anything. She couldn't lean into any of that until Rachel was okay. She fidgeted with the hairbrush in her hand until Rachel opened the bathroom door and walked over to her shyly.
"Feel a little bit better?" Shelby questioned the still silent teenager.
Rachel nodded and shifted anxiously on her feet. Shelby detested how nervous her child was again around her.
"Good, come sit," Shelby patted the spot on the bed in front of her. Rachel sat down and turned her back to her mom. Shelby began to brush Rachel's long brown tangles until she could brush through it effortlessly. She repeated her motions slowly and gently and watched Rachel's entire body soften.
"Can I braid your hair, Rach?" Shelby asked, continuing to brush.
Rachel nodded again and Shelby grinned at the positive answer. She spent the next few minutes expertly braiding her daughter's hair, years of being a big sister to Kim coming in handy.
"There you have it," Shelby said, tying Rachel's hair as she finished. She was about to move but Rachel settled back and leaned her body against Shelby's chest.
"Rach?" Shelby's heart was racing, totally surprised by the action. A few moments of silence passed and the mother waited for Rachel to respond with bated breath.
"I'm not ready," Rachel whispered and then relaxed into her mom's arms, subconsciously craving her comfort more than she realized.
"Ready for what, love?" Shelby inquired, a bit afraid of the answer.
"To meet your family. For Thanksgiving without daddy," Rachel confessed. "I'm not ready. I'm sorry, mom."
"Okay," Shelby said simply with total acceptance.
Rachel turned slightly and looked up at her mom in confusion.
"You're—you're not mad?"
"No, Rach. If you say you're not ready, then you're not ready," Shelby replied truthfully. "I'm not mad. And neither is your dad," she added.
Rachel turned back around and nodded her head thoughtfully.
"We can do something else today," Shelby began to suggest but paused when she heard a knock on the door.
"Rachel?" Hiram called out from the hallway.
Shelby felt Rachel stiffen in her arms and hesitate before responding.
"Come in," the girl agreed after a few seconds.
Hiram walked in guardedly. Also fresh from his own shower, he had a towel draped over his shoulder. He came straight to Rachel's room as soon as he finished, desperately needing to apologize to his daughter and her mother.
"I can be a real jerk, huh?" Hiram said, looking sincerely at Rachel first and then at Shelby. "I am so sorry."
"It's okay," Rachel said, leaning over and taking Hiram's hand in her own. She doesn't want to fight anymore. "I'm sorry too, dad."
Hiram glanced at Shelby and the woman nodded and mouthed the same thing. He brought his daughter's hand up to his lips and kissed it gratefully.
"How about you guys come down whenever you're ready? I bought another box of Fruit Loops yesterday, so we're still feasting today."
Rachel let out a small laugh and Hiram and Shelby both looked at each other and smiled. The man squeezed his daughter's hand one last time before letting it go and making his way out the room.
Rachel let out another sigh, this time of relief, feeling like a little weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She leaned back against her mom.
"Are you sure you're not mad?" Rachel asked again, staring straight ahead of her.
"I'm sure," Shelby answered, kissing her daughter's temple for good measure. "Are you still mad at me?"
Rachel pondered for a moment. She decided to be honest.
"Yeah," Rachel admitted. She was not all ready to forgive her mother yet. "But I still need you."
"Okay," Shelby accepted. She can handle that. That's more than she thought she'd get from her daughter at this point. And she can fix that. She will.
"I love you," she placed another kiss on the back of her kid's head.
"Love you too," Rachel replied.
A/N: Yikes. Not a lot of Thanksgiving celebrations for Shelby and Rachel, but a million thanks from me for the constantly wonderful reception to this story.
Bear with me, next couple of chapters are going to be a bit rough for mother and daughter. More soon!