A/N: Flashbacks with time jumps are italicized and woven in throughout the chapter. Thanks for reading!
"But I thought you said that she signed a contract?" Jesse questioned, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to glance at Rachel.
"She did," Rachel shrugged.
"So if she signed a contract agreeing not to contact you until you were eighteen, then she couldn't have really reached out," Jesse reasoned, squinting to focus past the flurry of the snowfall ahead of him. "She couldn't. She didn't have a choice."
Rachel sighed and leaned over to adjust the heat, twisting her wrist to set it to the warmest setting to counter the below freezing temperatures outside. "I know," she acknowledged. "But have you met Shelby Corcoran? When has she ever not done something because it was difficult? She never takes no for an answer. She doesn't settle. She is the literal embodiment of 'When there's a will, there's a way,' which then leads me to believe that if she really wanted to be with me, if she wanted to be in my life, then she would've found a way. It's that simple."
Jesse straightened up in his seat and settled both of his hands on the steering wheel. It had been snowing on and off since the previous evening and while the roads were mostly plowed, another round of snowfall was currently blanketing the streets.
"Is it? It sounds pretty complicated to me."
Rachel let out another disgruntled sigh. She wasn't interested in analyzing the details. She just wanted to air her opinion on the matter. "No it doesn't. If it was important enough to her, she would've worked it out. I don't see any other way around it."
"Because you don't want to," Jesse said, attempting to keep his tone light. "You're being stubborn."
With a roll of her eyes, Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face the window. "I didn't tell you so you could just take my mother's side. I don't appreciate being attacked, Jesse."
"I'm not attacking you Rach," Jesse placated as he came up to a red light. He reached over to tap her arm to draw her attention back to him. "I'm just saying that it's not black and white. Yeah, Coach C does always get what she wants. But she also doesn't do things just because. There's always a reason. And I think if she stayed away, I don't think it was because it was a choice, I think she had good reason to."
Rachel only offered a terse nod in response while the awkward silence and the faint sound of pop music playing from the radio settled uncomfortably in between them.
Jesse sighed and continued driving when the traffic light turned green, mentally navigating his way toward the direction of the convention center on the other side of town. "I'm not on anyone's side here. I just think that maybe you're being too hard on Shelby. I mean, maybe she did want to be with you but she was afraid of interrupting your entire life or she thought you were fine and didn't think you needed her, you know?"
"But I wasn't fine," Rachel stated angrily, unwilling to budge. "And I did need her."
"Well there's no way she could've known Rach. I mean, let me ask you, did you ever really ask your dads if you could meet your mom growing up?"
Rachel's lips fell at that question. The answer was no. But she wasn't prepared to admit that yet. She was hurt, more than she can truly comprehend or even describe why, and she couldn't see past that at the moment. Remaining silent, she scanned her eyes across the wintry scene outside, the buildings and homes, trees and bushes coated with snow and ice that blurred by in their speed.
"I'm not trying to argue with you about it cause it's not my place and I don't think I'll ever understand how you feel, but it sounds like to me that it's anything but simple," Jesse added, casting Rachel an apologetic look. "Besides, isn't the important part that you and Coach C have each other now? That you're in each other's lives now? Isn't that what matters?"
Rachel hesitated to answer. Of course that's what mattered. But her entire childhood apart from her mother also mattered to her.
"This is so embarrassing!" A seven-year-old Rachel sulked, throwing an arm over her forehead to complete the mood.
"Don't worry, princess. I'm sure you, dad, and I can figure something out," LeRoy comforted, peeling the brooding girl's arm over her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile.
"It's not the same," Rachel whined. "Neither of you have the proper range or the acting ability to execute a customized duet of 'N.Y.C.' It would be positively mortifying!"
LeRoy stifled back a laugh in amusement. Even as a second grader, his daughter had a far too extensive vocabulary. "I'm sorry, Rach. But Mrs. Hoffman did say that if you didn't want to take part in the Mother/Daughter Talent Show, then you don't have to. It's okay to sit this one out, honey."
"Or you can do something by yourself," Hiram suggested, ruffling his daughter's hair and trying to lighten the mood. "You don't need a duet anyway. Your voice is big enough for three people, at least!"
"I know it is, but it's not the same," Rachel huffed a bit in frustration and stared down at the bowl of strawberry ice cream her daddy just offered her in consolation, as if the dessert could somehow provide her with the answers.
This year, she already had to miss the Girl Scouts weekend outing to the spa, a shopping trip to Columbus with Kitty and her mom, and now this. It was unfair. And the worst part was having to explain why to everyone. Not knowing how to explain that she had two dads and no mom. And all the pitying looks she got in return.
"Rach?" LeRoy prodded cautiously. "You okay?"
"Do you wanna talk about what's running through your mind, sweetheart?" Hiram added.
Rachel lifted her head and looked at her dad and daddy sitting at either side of her on the couch, feeling, rather than seeing, their concern. Their comfort too. And she instantly felt some of her frustrations dissipate. Maybe she didn't have a mom. But at least she'd always have her dads.
"No, it's okay," Rachel declined. It wasn't their fault that she was missing out. She couldn't place that burden on them. "I'm fine. You're right daddy, we can figure something else out."
"Where is she?" Shelby demanded. She looked around desperately, trying to see everything, hoping to see her everything but didn't understand why she couldn't focus in on anything. With her mind going overboard, she didn't realize that her eyes were full, but refusing to spill over. "And Jesse? Are they okay?"
Brian cut off the mother as soon as he saw her sprint into the emergency room. "They're both okay. Jesse's alright, and he's about to get stitches on his forehead, but Shelby, look at me," he instructed, moving his head to force her focus on him. "Rachel is fine. She hit her head and she was unconscious when the paramedics got to the scene of the accident and on the way to the hospital, but she's awake now and she's being responsive. Dr. Lightford's looking over her now. She's the best we have. She told me no massive injuries, nothing serious so far. It looks like she might just have a concussion. They're about to take her up to get a CT scan to confirm. You can see her, but then we have to take her upstairs, okay? She's fine, Shel. Rachel will be alright. We've got her."
Shelby blinked and watched Brian's mouth open and close a few times but she heard nothing except the pounding of her own heart in her ears. "Rachel?" She pleaded again.
"Room Three," Brian pointed behind him. "But they have to take her up soon, Shelby."
She had always been good in tense situations. Calm under pressure. Always. It's why she was so good at the jobs she's had. She could keep her cool. She could compartmentalize. But right now, she felt like she was spinning. Around. And around. Spinning.
Before she could even lay a hand on the handle, the door swung open and her entire world stopped abruptly when she caught sight of her daughter. Rachel. Lying on a stretcher flanked with blue scrubs. Her body still. Her eyes closed. "What happened? Is she okay? Brian said she was awake? Why isn't she moving?"
"I assume you're mom," Dr. Lightford answered calmly. "She is alright. We gave her some medicine earlier to settle her down and it's making her drowsy," the doctor informed, attempting to erase the look of horror displayed all over the mother's face. "She was alert earlier. A little confused and disoriented but that's expected. A bit dizzy but other mental functions and physical coordination were also okay when we tested them. Nothing I was too concerned about. She was feeling nauseous and there was some vomiting. We're taking her to CT to rule out any other brain injuries, and then we'll take her back down right after. Right now all signs point to a concussion. We're going to admit her for monitoring and, for now, take it one step at a time."
Despite the assurances, Shelby's eyes strung painfully and her throat felt like it was closing in on itself. She had to speak but she couldn't. She reached out and touched her daughter instead, needed to feel her. Needed proof. This couldn't be real. She just got her back. A warm hand found her shoulder and broke her attention.
"Shel, I've got her," Brian said. "I can't… she's family so I can't do anything medically, but I have clearance, I'll go up with them to get the scan and make sure she's okay," he promised. "We need you to stay down here and fill out paperwork. Kim's on her way."
The doctor grabbed her shoulders and steered her out of the doorway to clear the path to the elevator for the nurses, surprised at how much force he had to use.
"Wait! Stop, wait!" Shelby begged, grabbing Rachel's hand when they brought her daughter past her. "She's, um, allergic to penicillin. I-I think her blood type is AB positive. The last time she was in the hospital was uh one, no, two years ago when her dads said she got a really bad case of pneumonia. And she's a vegetarian and her iron levels have been a bit low, so her primary physician recommended she start taking vitamin supplements a few weeks ago," she rattled off, racking her brain for any pertinent medical information. "And she had a cold! She was coughing and had a sore throat yesterday and maybe a slight fever. I-I gave her some Tylenol before bed. Two of them. She was sick. She was…"
"Okay, alright, mom," Dr. Lightford interjected. "Thank you. That all helps. I'm hearing you. But we will take care of your daughter, I assure you. You can fill everything else out in the forms. They'll take her back down as soon as they're done, and I will check in on Rachel again then."
"Brian?" Shelby peered over her shoulder, still gripping Rachel's hand as if it was the last thing she'd do.
"Here," Brian pried his niece's hand away gently from the mother. "I've got her, Shel. I'll be with Rae the entire time. I promise. I'll call you as soon as we know something. She'll be just fine. We're just going to double-check that nothing else is wrong, okay?"
"Okay," Shelby forced herself to nod her agreement, unwittingly taking a step back. "Okay. Just take care of her, please," she tried to say, but the words choked off, losing her breath.
She swallowed the rest of her sentence altogether, clenching her teeth when the elevator doors opened, they wheeled her daughter away, and the door closed back again, all before she had time to even catch her breath.
"And just where do you think you're going, Miss Rachel?" Holly Holliday questioned as she blocked the petite seventh grader from exiting the front doors of the Chicago private grade school.
"Home," Rachel stated, pushing past her substitute English teacher, who had been filling in since Mrs. Ruiz was on maternity leave. "Let me go, please," she urged, wanting to proceed with her storm out.
"Oh no you're not," Holly punctuated with a tsk tsk, refusing to budge and pushing the stubborn twelve-year-old away from the entrance as gently as she could. "You know the rules, Rach. You can't leave the dance early. Unless your parents can come pick you up. It's almost nine o'clock. I'm not letting you leave school grounds."
"Fine," the pre-teen huffed indignantly, crossing her arms in contempt. "Then I request that you please make yourself useful and call my fathers to come pick me up."
Holly scoffed at the retort, both irked and impressed with the sassy demand from someone so tiny. "And I request that you watch the attitude, Miss Thing," the teacher warned. "What's going on, Rach? You were looking forward to this dance all week. It's all you, Kitty, and Marley were talking about. Even Brody asked you to be his date, right? Does he know you're leaving?"
"Don't talk to me about Brody!" Rachel exclaimed suddenly, stomping her foot out of anger.
"Woah, alright then girlfriend," Holly yielded, lifting her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Holly sighed and studied the girl carefully, noting the unmistakable hurt also mixed in with the anger. She dropped her arms and guided her still-seething student to sit down on the bench by the front office, smiling when she realized the girl couldn't even reach the ground.
"Boys suck," Holly offered, shooting the young teen an understanding look, nudging her with her elbow. "And just between you and me, that Brody kid's a bit of a twat."
Rachel's eyes widened at being read like a book and she stared up at her teacher in shock. "How did you know?"
"You're not the first person in the world who's had boy trouble, my lady," Holly sympathized. "Been there. Done that. What did he do?"
Rachel grumbled a bit and contemplated sharing her woes with her teacher. She wasn't keen to, but Ms. Holliday wasn't like her other teachers. She was cool. She listened. And she was one of the only adults in her life who spoke to her like she wasn't a little kid. Ms. H always leveled with her.
"He only asked me out b-because someone dared him to," she decided to answer, her voice cracking in the middle. "Kitty heard him bragging to Tommy D'Angelo and Johnny Burke about it. And then when I tried to talk to him about it, I overheard him making fun of how I look. He said that I'm not pretty."
"Aw Rach," Holly wrapped her arm around the girl's small frame, forgoing the usual student-teacher boundaries. Middle school was a nightmare, and there wasn't enough money in the world to convince to ever go back. "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that. But you definitely should not listen to him or any of those other boys. They don't know what they're talking about. You are very beautiful, Miss Thing. Do not let anyone, especially not a boy, tell you or make you feel otherwise."
"You're just saying that because you have to be nice to me," Rachel sniffled, casting the older woman a heart wrenching combination of puppy dog eyes and a deep pout on her lips. "They were also making fun of how I dress."
Holly examined the girl's outfit surreptitiously and mentally winced. Rachel did tend to have a rather quirky-cute, borderline weird, sense of style. The girl was by no means a fashionista. But the prep-school inspired outfits were endearing. Though, maybe not to her student's peers.
Tonight, Rachel had on a black pleated skirt with a white frill top completed with a pair of metallic silver oxfords. A far cry from the trendy and chic junior dresses and high heels that the other girls had on for the dance this evening.
"Don't listen to Brody, Rachel," Holly assured. "You look great, and you can wear anything you want and whatever you feel most comfortable in. I mean it. Your shoes look wicked cool to me."
"Thanks," Rachel managed a half smile, kicking them up in the air. "I mean, I really wanted to get a new outfit for tonight. I just didn't have the money."
"Why didn't you ask your dads to take you shopping?" Holly broached the topic cautiously. "I'm sure they would've," she added with confidence, going off what she knew about the girl's seemingly attentive and doting fathers.
"I don't know," Rachel shrugged her shoulders, releasing a deep, loaded sigh. "I know that they would have, but I can't really talk to them about stuff like this. They don't even know that I'm at the dance tonight. They think we're just hanging at Marley's."
"Rachel," Holly admonished.
"I know Ms. Holliday," Rachel hung her head in guilt. "Lying is bad. And I hate lying to my daddies. But I just… I never know how to talk to them about girl things. And it's always awkward. They tell me I can. But it's weird. I don't know how to explain it. And I most definitely couldn't have told them I was going with a boy, and I really wanted to go with Brody. Or I thought I did. I guess I regret it now."
Holly nodded in acceptance. She understood. She couldn't even imagine what she would've done if she didn't have her own mom to help her navigate through the special hell that was being a teenage girl back in the day.
"Don't tell them though, please?" Rachel added a moment later, a slight panic in her voice. "I'll stay, I promise. Kitty and I are sleeping over Marley's tonight, so I have to wait for them anyway. But I don't want my dad and daddy to know. I don't want to tell them. I just… I can't… I…"
"Hey, okay girlfriend, I won't say a thing," Holly conceded, taken aback by the girl's clear anxiety over this. "I gotcha, Rach. I understand. And this can stay between us. I promise that my lips are sealed."
"Thanks and I'm sorry," Rachel apologized. "For arguing with you about leaving, I was just upset. I don't know why Brody would do that. I've never done anything to him. I thought we were friends."
"Apology accepted, Miss Rach," Holly smiled warmly. She'd grown fond of the opinionated and rather stubborn, but also kind and unique, little girl over the past few months. She could see how much the young, impressionable girl needed a female role model in her life, and Holly didn't see why it couldn't be her.
"I'm sorry that Brody led you on. That wasn't very nice of him. But I also wouldn't take it too personally," she advised. "There's nothing wrong with you, and that's on him for not seeing that. Promise me you'll always try to remember that? Not just with Brody. But with any boy, or with anyone, really, who ever makes you feel less amazing than you really are."
Rachel sighed and leaned into her teacher's arms, already feeling somewhat better. "Okay, I guess I can try. Promise."
"And Rach? I know you said you can't talk to your dads about this, but if you ever really do need to talk to someone, you can always ask me," Holly offered. "I haven't told anyone yet, but Principal Scott actually just asked me to stay on for next year as well, so just come to me, if you want. I'll be around, alright?"
"Deal," Rachel accepted with a toothy grin. "You're the best, Ms. H."
"Ma'am, we really need you to fill out these registration and insurance forms," the nurse urged, handing a clipboard off to the distraught mother.
Shelby felt numb standing over by the nurse's station in the emergency department. She only stared down at her hands, wondering when they began shaking. She inhaled sharply and tried to regain some feeling back into her body. A deep breath. And then another.
"Where's Jesse? St. James. They brought him in with my daughter and said that he was getting stitches?" Shelby finally managed to ask, placing the clipboard back down on the counter. "I need to see him too."
"I can't disclose that information. Are you family?"
Shelby attempted to swallow but her throat was excruciatingly dry. "No, but I'm his teacher. He was with my daughter. They're… they're friends. I just want to make sure he's okay. He's my student. He… he means a lot to me too."
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I–"
"Caroline, please just tell us where the kid is," Kim demanded when she walked up, instantly pulling her older sister into a hug. "She just wants to make sure he's alright.
"Kim, you know I can't," the young nurse objected. "There are rules that impede us from—"
"Car, it's my niece. This is my family," Kim reasoned. "Remember when Allie was in the ER last month? You were a wreck. I'm not asking for a lot here."
Caroline sighed, lowering her guard at the reminder. "Fine," she relented, shaking her head as she logged into the system. "Let me take a look."
"I owe you," Kim said then turned her attention back to her sister. "Rachel's dads?"
"Hiram was in Chicago this weekend to visit some friends and he's driving back," Shelby said, terrified and talking fast. "I just called LeRoy and he's trying to catch a flight out. Just depends on how Rachel is. She um.. they're thinking it's just a concussion, but they're taking her to get a CT scan right now. She was alert earlier and they said she was okay but I didn't get a chance to talk to her cause they gave her something and I… I don't know Kim. What if…"
"She'll be okay. I'll go check with Brian," Kim interrupted, rubbing her sister's arms in a poor attempt to comfort her.
"Jesse St. James is in Exam Room Five," Caroline relayed. "Laceration on the left side of his head. No other significant injuries."
"Here, give me your wallet, and let me take care of these forms," Kim said, feeling a slight twinge of discomfort with taking charge and ordering her older sister around. "I'll fill it out as best as I can and then head upstairs to see how Rae is. You go check on Jesse."
Shelby only offered a reluctant nod. If she opened her mouth again, she was afraid a sob would come out. Moving mechanically, she made her way to the designated examination room, knocking quietly before easing herself in to find Jesse alone. Shelby instantly clenched her jaw from falling when caught a glimpse of the large, bloodied gash located just above the boy's left temple.
"Coach C, I'm so sorry," Jesse said, rising to his feet immediately at the sight of his teacher. "I didn't… it was black ice and I lost control of the wheel. I tried to... I'm really sorry, Coach. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. Is Rachel okay? They separated us earlier and they made me stay here."
Shelby shook her head and closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around Jesse and instant relief entered her body at the fact that he was here and okay, mostly unharmed.
"Hey, listen to me, it was not your fault," she said, pulling her head back to check over any other injuries. "It was an accident. Rachel will be alright. They're just checking now to make sure there's nothing serious going on. Are you okay? Where are your parents?"
"My mom was just here, she's downstairs now grabbing me something to drink, and my dad is on his way I think," Jesse answered with a quiver in his voice. "Coach C, I didn't mean to. I swear I was driving carefully."
Shelby always saw her star student as a leader. Confident. But right now all she was a little boy, who appeared as rattled as she felt.
"I know Jesse, I know. It's not your fault. I'm not blaming you. I'm just so glad you're both okay."
"Coach—"
"I don't care, Jesse," Shelby said adamantly, smoothing away his unkempt curly hair, taking his face in her palms to force eye contact, not missing how his rosy complexion was replaced with a grim paleness.
"I don't care what happened. I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt Rachel. It was an accident. The weather is horrible. It happens. I'm the one who shouldn't have… It's okay. All that matters is that you're both alright."
Jesse fell into his teacher's arms again, releasing a breath that shook right out of his chest. And Shelby tightened her hold when she felt him trembling. "It was an accident," she repeated. "It's not your fault."
…
"Hey! There you are," Kim jogged up to Shelby standing outside the entrance of the emergency room. She placed her hands on her hips, pausing to collect herself and inhaling a massive breath to appease her lungs' need for oxygen since she just ran around searching for her sister.
"What are you doing? Why are you out here? They're done with the CT and they're taking Rachel to a room. It was negative. She'll be okay."
Shelby halted her pacing the same time her heart stopped in her chest. She was so relieved that she couldn't breathe, and without warning, turned around and ran to the garbage can, bending over and throwing up her stomach's entire contents. Her insides coiled and twisted, forcing her to retch and cough as she attempted to catch her breath.
"Oh my god!" Kim sprinted over to her sister vomiting over the trash bin. "Are you okay?"
Shelby shook her head and drew her arm back to keep Kim away. A few dry heaves later, she straightened up, wiping her mouth with the cloth of her long sleeved t-shirt. "Ra—Rachel's okay?"
"Holy shit, Shelby," Kim remarked, full of concern. "Yes she's fine, but are you alright? Are you sick too? Here, let me take you inside."
"No," Shelby shook her head weakly in objection. "No. Stop, I'm fine," she placed her hands on her knees and leaned over, sucking in a couple of sharp breaths.
"Shelby, you're not fine. You're clearly sick," Kim argued, taking in her sister's eyes, darkened with circles and filled with tears, gazing up at her miserably.
"No I'm not," Shelby replied a couple blinks later. "I just—I don't know what I'm doing."
"What are you talking about? Rachel's fine. You just have to go up and see her. They're taking her to her room. She was in and out and a little disoriented, but she was definitely asking for you. Come on, let's go."
"No," Shelby declared willfully. Despite her knees feeling like rubber, she forced herself to stand up straight. "I can't. I don't—can you go stay with her, please?"
"Shelby, what?" Kim asked in sincere confusion. Why were they wasting time debating this?
"I can't. You go up and see Rach, please? I just need a second. I don't—"
"She's asking for you and her dads. And since two of the three aren't even in the state, I think that means you have to step up to the plate," Kim replied in disbelief. If it were her, she'd already be halfway up the stairs. "Let's go."
"I was asleep, Kim!" Shelby shouted unexpectedly, startling her sister. "It's my fault. I was asleep when Rachel left this morning. I didn't… I didn't even get out of bed. I wasn't thinking clearly, and I didn't check the weather. I… she was sick. I should've never let her leave in the first place. She and Jesse wouldn't even be here if I was paying attention. I should not have let her go."
"Shelby stop," Kim begged, her heart breaking wide open at the guilt marked all over her sister's face. "I know what you're thinking and I know exactly where your head is going here, but it is absolutely not your fault. It's no one's fault. It was a literal accident. The ER is flooded because of the weather today. This shit just happens. But they're both fine, okay? Let's just go see Rae and you'll feel better. I promise."
"No," Shelby said, her voice now quiet because she knew she was close to tears, her eyes were sparkling with them. "That's not just it. I just… I don't know what I'm doing at all. I didn't know how messed up Rachel felt about everything. I didn't know about the bullying. She doesn't trust me. I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to do about any of it. I don't know how to be her mom. I can't."
"Shelly, you can," Kim said, with all the conviction she could muster, astounded at the raw insecurity in her sister's voice. "You have to."
"I can't," Shelby said, her insides still twisting and turning. She flung herself toward the garbage can again a second later, expelling a second round of all the current stress coiling in her stomach. After she was done, she keeled over to spit and regulate her breathing, not caring how unseemly she probably appeared at the moment.
"Shelby, please let me take you inside," Kim urged, patting her back gently. "Rachel really wants to see you, and… yes, I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel about all of it. But right now, that doesn't matter, because your daughter needs you. You've been doing everything you can. Please cut yourself some slack. You need to. You're being so hard on yourself."
"Kim," Shelby shook her head, unable to navigate past the chaos in her head to see reason. "Just go upstairs for me, please. I can't right now."
She began to walk away but Kim stepped in front of her so she was forced to stop.
"No Shelby, absolutely not," Kim reprimanded. "You are not doing this right now. I get it. I know that things with Rachel have been difficult but you need to set that aside right now because being a mom isn't about knowing what to do about everything all the time, half of it is just showing up. Being there. And right now, she needs you. Not me or Brian. You. Rachel needs you."
"No, she doesn't," Shelby said, completely believing it in this instance. "She doesn't need me."
"Shelby—"
"Kim, stop! Please just go. Just leave me alone. I can't. I seriously can't."
"Fine!" Kim exclaimed, raising her voice to match. "Fuck. Fine. But when Rachel's fully awake soon and you're nowhere to be found, do you think it's her that's not going to be able to forgive you for nothing being there? No. She'll get over it because she loves you and she understands that you're doing your best. You're the one who's not going to be able to live with yourself. Jesus Shelby, you're so concerned with being a good mom, whatever the hell that means, that you're completely forgetting how to just be one. You're a mom. Everything else will figure itself out. Just start acting like one and be there for your daughter."
"Hey princess, you ready to go?" LeRoy asked, standing by the doorway.
Rachel looked around her empty childhood bedroom and shrugged. No she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to leave the only home she's ever known. To say goodbye to the life she shared with both of her fathers. To wake up tomorrow in a new home, in another state, without the other half of her family.
To have everything change.
She wasn't ready for any of it.
"Yeah, I think so," she forced herself to reply, clearing the lump in her throat. "Is dad downstairs already?"
"He's almost done packing up the car, and then I think you're going to get gas and then hit the road," LeRoy informed, throwing a weak smile her way. "Do you need help carrying that?" He offered, pointing to the lone, stray box that remained on top of the bed with his tired eyes.
Rachel peered at the package, her heart rate escalating at the suggestion. "No," she answered abruptly, crossing the room to pick it up before her father could get to it. "It's fine. It's actually for storage," she finally decided.
They had been in the process of moving and packing, dividing up their home, throughout the past couple of months and last weekend, she stumbled upon this box. The only tangible proof she's come across in almost fourteen years about her birth mother. In it, were long-forgotten maternity clothes, books about pregnancy, half-empty bottles of prenatal vitamins, and the journal. A small, black moleskin notebook with narrow ruled pages and only one entry inside of it dated December 1 that had written:
"Dear Baby,
If you ever wonder how I felt about giving you up, it's this—I'm terrified."
That was all it said. Nothing else. She'd read that one line so many times in the last week, she's certain that it was permanently ingrained in her brain. She came close to asking her dads about it, the closest she's ever been in her entire life, but inevitably balked at the last minute. It never felt right to. Especially not now.
And it worked two ways. As much as she wanted to know more about the woman that she shared half of her DNA with, as much as she maybe even needed her, her birth mother also had to feel the same way. And the fact that it had been radio silence, no attempted contact, ever, suggested to her that maybe her mother, her mom out there, just simply didn't want to.
"Actually, they're just dads old running shoes that he forgot," Rachel felt awful lying. "Can you take it with you to storage?"
LeRoy glanced down at the box as he accepted, and nodded. "Sure, princess. I'll take care of it."
"Thanks," Rachel said, leading her daddy out of her room without as much as a glance back.
She'd gone this far without her mother. She wasn't going to wait for her to show up now.
Standing over the hospital bed, Shelby stroked Rachel's hair away from her sleeping face, and her heart wrenched, used to looking through swimming eyes.
When the long, thick lashes that her daughter inherited from her began to flutter, Shelby froze. As soon as she caught a glimpse of Rachel's deep, brown eyes, she blinked quickly to stave off the tears. She only ever wanted her daughter to see her strong.
"M-mommy?"
"Baby, I'm here," Shelby said softly, leaning over to kiss Rachel's forehead. "It's mom. I'm here."