With a slow inhale, Rachel attempted to regulate the pounding in her chest as she stood in front of her closed bedroom door. She patted down her pockets to double-check that she had everything she needed: cell, keys, headphones.
She glanced at her clock one more time. It was almost six in the morning. If she timed it perfectly, she could run a quick loop, be home, and back in bed before her mother got up for her shower at precisely six thirty.
She sincerely didn't want to be sneaking around, but she couldn't help it. It's been almost a month since the car accident, and she's been under an indefatigable Coach Corcoran lock down since arriving home from the hospital.
Really, her mother left her no choice.
Mustering up the courage, she twisted her wrist and opened the door, slowly easing herself into the hallway. Comforted by the sight of her mom's still-shut bedroom door, she half-sprinted down the hall and halted at the top of the stairs, turning back around to make sure there was no movement from her mother's bedroom.
Once she was satisfied, she zipped up her lightweight running jacket, drew in another breath, and tapped into the bravado currently coursing through her veins. She crept down the stairs for a few moments before breaking out into a full-out jog toward the last steps. As soon as her feet touched down on the ground floor, the foyer light flicked on abruptly.
She screamed.
"Good morning to you too, Rach," Shelby greeted with a raised eyebrow as she stepped into view. "Let's try not to wake up the neighbors, shall we?"
Still clutching her rapidly beating chest, Rachel threw her head back and groaned audibly in intense disapproval. "Oh my god, mom! You scared me! Where did you come from?"
"The kitchen," Shelby replied nonchalantly, lifting up her tumbler filled with freshly brewed coffee with one hand to offer as evidence. Truthfully, she had pieced together her kid's not-so-sly attempts at sneaking out since the previous evening. She had been up the past hour in anticipation of the teenager's attempted getaway.
"And where do you think you're going?"
Rachel swallowed hard against the panic rising in her throat. "Nowhere," she shrugged, struggling to keep her voice from wavering. "Just woke up early and wanted to get something to eat."
Shelby nodded, unamused. "And you needed to wear your running shoes, workout clothes and a jacket to go to…. the kitchen?"
"I, uh…" Rachel opened and closed her mouth dumbly. "Mom!" She whined a beat later.
"Yes, my love?" Shelby asked innocently, stifling back the entertainment she felt from filtering onto her face.
"Ugh! You are the worst," the teenager professed as she began to slip her jacket off and untie her shoes in a purely defeated manner. "Why won't you let me just go for a short run? I feel better. My head is fine. I haven't been dizzy in like a week. I haven't had a headache in days. Please mom? Exercise is good for you. Healthy, in fact."
Shelby sighed in resignation. While all valid points, she was still leery of allowing the girl to push herself. They were in the hospital twice over the past month. First after the car accident and the second when they took a trip back to the ER after Rachel's concussions symptoms exacerbated for the worst. Though she knew she was toeing the line between being cautious and being overprotective, she only wanted to ensure that the girl recovered properly.
"Rachel, you know what the doctor said about—"
"I know, post-concussion syndrome," Rachel completed with an eye roll as she stalked into the living room.
"Baby, it's a mild—"
"Form of brain injury and we have to take it seriously," she regurgitated her mother's seemingly favorite talking point at the moment. "I know, mom. You've told me. But the doctor also said that when symptoms begin to diminish that I can slowly ease into normal activities but you won't let me do anything! Isn't it bad enough that we had to cancel our trip to London? This has been the worst spring break, ever."
Shelby gritted her teeth together to impede an unnecessary retort from escaping. Gone were the days post the accident when her daughter allowed her to dote on and care for her unprompted and the nights when she found the girl in her bed seeking her comfort. That Rachel she missed. In her place now, was a stubborn, unconcerned, and slightly reckless teenager who insisted in pushing her boundaries and putting herself at risk. It was her job to draw the lines.
"Wait a second…" Rachel interrupted her thoughts with a scorching and accusatory tone when she finally noticed that the older woman was donning her own workout outfit. "Where are you going?"
Clearing her throat, Shelby shrugged her shoulders casually. She was the adult. She had nothing to hide. "Well I am not suffering from head trauma, so I will be going to yoga this morning."
Rachel's jaw scraped the floor at the answer. "Are you serious? Mom!"
"I will be right back to take you to your therapy appointment at nine," Shelby lifted her hand, waiting for the agitated teen to cease her protests before she continued her instructions. "And then tomorrow is your checkup with Dr. Lightford and if and only if she gives you clearance, I promise I will allow you to return to your normal activities. I am not trying to torture you here kid, I just want to make sure we're not doing anything to jeopardize your well-being. I'm truly sorry if you are frustrated, and I understand. But I am only looking out for your best interest here, my love. I promise you that."
Rachel issued a dejected sigh, her entire resolve and appearance crumbling. "This is so unfair."
"I know baby," Shelby replied softly with a sympathetic smile, reaching out to tuck the girl's hair behind her ear and away from her long face. "But after the doctor gives you the OK, we can go slowly and move on. One more day, honey. In the meanwhile, I will take this," she said, leaning over to swipe the keys out of Rachel's jacket pocket. "And this," she added, bending down to pick up the girl's running shoes. "With me. Get ready, eat breakfast, take your medicine, and I will be back in an hour."
Appalled at the level of mistrust, Rachel scoffed in total insult. "Mom!"
"And since you're already up, you should call your daddy. You missed his call again yesterday," Shelby ordered, already halfway across the room. "Make sure to eat! Call me if you need anything please."
"Ugh!" Rachel threw her arms up in the air. "The only thing I'm suffering from is YOU!" She shouted at her mother's retreating form.
"One! Day! More!" Shelby only sang in response to the tune of the seminal Les Mis classic, punctuating it with the slam of the front door.
A few hours later, Shelby was walking a step behind her child as they navigated their way through the hospital parking lot.
"So your appointment went well, Rach?"
"Mhmm, it was fine," the teenager shrugged without any further elaboration.
"That's good," Shelby replied, quickening her strides to match her daughter's suddenly sped up pace. "And I don't mean to sound like a broken record, hon, but you know that you can always talk to me about anything you bring up in your sessions. I just want to help… too."
Rachel nodded her head distractedly, slowing down her steps as they approached the Range Rover. "I know mom, thanks. I just…" her voice trailed off, pausing to brace herself as one does with a rogue wave.
She halted her movement instantly and caused her mother to bump right into her.
"Oh sorry," Shelby began to apologize, stopping short when she took in her daughter's troubled expression. "Rach? What's wrong?" She asked worriedly; stepping forward in time to watch as something akin to fear wash over the girl followed immediately by brief panic.
The silence and the moment engulfed them both.
Breaking out of it first, Shelby reached out tentatively and placed a hand on her shoulder gently to draw her daughter away from wherever she just went in her head. She had noticed that her kid has had some slight anxiety about riding in the car after the wreck, but nothing as discernible as this. "Rachel, baby, are you okay?"
Rachel blinked hard as she fought through the completely unexpected eel of panic wiggling through her. "Y-yes, sorry," she breathed out through the tightness she felt in her chest. "I'm okay, sorry."
"It's alright," Shelby shook her head, flooded only with concern as she followed the teenager's line of sight toward her car. "You don't have to apologize. You're okay, baby. What, uh, what's going on? What just happened?"
"Nothing," Rachel answered promptly and cleared her throat uncomfortably, embarrassed by her sudden fit of anxiety. Admittedly, she didn't even know what just happened. She was somewhat on edge after her therapy session, her emotions raw, so she's just going to chalk up that random episode to that. "I'm fine," she bounced back brightly, plastering on a reassuring smile to her face to appease her mother. "Sorry I just… I don't know but I'm fine. I swear."
Shelby scrunched her eyebrows together in contemplation determining quickly that her daughter was lying. Even only after a few months, she's been able to learn almost every inflection in her voice and every tick of emotion in her face that told her when the girl was being less than truthful. Though she knew better, she dismissed it for now. Rachel never responded well when she was prompted under pressure.
"Okay," Shelby began warily. "But—"
"Let's just go home," Rachel cut in, pulling her shoulder away to resume their trek to the car. "I'm actually kind of tired now and what do you always say about me getting enough rest?"
"Alright," the older woman objected with a scoff, buying into the teenager's attempt to lighten the mood. "Who's the one who woke up at five in the morning with the intention of sneaking away from me?"
"And who woke up even earlier than that just so they could catch me?" Rachel countered, rolling her eyes at her mother but unable to repress a smile. "I bet you're even more tired than I am."
"Okay nobody asked you," laughed Shelby as she pushed the girl playfully toward the passenger door. "Get in there before I decide to leave you here."
"Try it," Rachel taunted. "Maybe I can finally get some running in!"
Twenty minutes later, Rachel reclined back into her seat after switching the radio station again for the countless time. She then drew the mirror down briefly before closing it back up. Next she flicked the window switch for a few seconds before leaning forward again to adjust the heat from low to high and back again.
"Alright, stop moving kid, you're distracting me," Shelby gently chided, using her free arm to pull her daughter back. "Why are you so fidgety?"
"Still can't believe you drove out of the parking lot without me," the teen grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest in contempt as she tried to relax. "You've got jokes, mom."
"Let that be a lesson in what happens when you challenge me," the mother warned while she pulled onto their street.
"Um," the teenager shot straight up as soon as the house came into view. "Speaking of challenging you—"
"Rachel Barbra," Shelby groaned loudly in disapproval. "Why is your grandfather's car in the driveway? And your Aunt Kim's? And Frannie's?"
"Um well—"
A friendly honk from the vehicle behind them catapulted their attention to the rear view mirror.
"And your Uncle Brian!"
"You left me no choice!" Rachel exclaimed, raising her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. But I had to call in for reinforcements. I've been so bored. And you won't let me do anything!"
"So your solution was to invite our entire family over?" Shelby asked in disbelief as she pulled onto the curb, seeing as all the vacant spots in her driveway were occupied.
She threw the Range Rover into park before turning to cast an erosive glare toward her devious child. As much as she enjoyed spending time with her family, she didn't appreciate the unexpected visit. She had plans. She had hoped for them to have a relaxing day before Rachel's final checkup tomorrow. Alone. She wanted to ease into a conversation a month overdue that she knew they had to have. She needed them to talk.
Shelby sighed.
"You're not grounded, Rachel. Or in jail. You could've asked to see your friends or gone over to your Aunt's or grandparents'. We could've done something. Or you could have even just told me you wanted to have people over. You don't just summon everyone over here simply because you're bored. What did you even tell them?"
"Um, well," Rachel stammered, shrinking effectively at her mother's biting scowl. "I told grandpa you needed help fixing the sink in your bathroom, which you do! I asked Uncle B to drop off some more of those pudding cups I really liked from the hospital on his way home. Grandma's in Columbus shopping with Mrs. Fabray. I told Frannie that you were cooking lunch. Quinn was with her. And I… I think it's best if I don't tell you what I said to Aunt Kim."
"Ra-chel," Shelby growled in exasperation at her far too dramatic fourteen-year-old.
"Hey!" Kim's muffled voice interrupted right on cue as the woman walked up to the driver's side then tapped on the window. "Get out of the car, Shelly! Rae says you need an intervention."
"I just feel like I'm overreacting because it's not like I was in this huge traumatic car crash," Rachel admitted as she plopped back down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling despondently. "We were lucky. People have suffered a lot worse. I had, what, a few headaches for a couple weeks but that was it, and now I'm having trouble getting in the car? I need to get over it."
"I don't know," Quinn shrugged as she swiveled on the desk chair in Rachel's bedroom, measuring her words carefully before stopping. "You hit your head pretty hard. On the Cheerios, Coach Sue always takes concussions pretty seriously. You were in the hospital for two nights and I saw pictures of the car. It was totaled. I'd say that's kinda traumatic."
Rachel lifted her head from the pillow to make eye contact and said seriously, "Well the only thing that's really traumatic is dealing with my mom lately."
Quinn laughed but not too loudly in case the older Corcoran could somehow hear her. "Yeah, I'm sorry you didn't get to go to London like you planned but if you're trying to compare dreadful experiences, I've spent half of spring break wedding planning with Fran and Mr. Schue."
"Yeah. No offense, but marrying your sister is the worst thing Mr. Schue's ever done to me and the New Directions. He's been so distracted recently. We absolutely need to start taking glee a lot more seriously or else we're going to lose to my mother and I simply can't live with that."
"Oh!" Quinn said as realization hit her. She got up and scrambled onto the bed, pulling Rachel up to face her. "Wait. Speaking of VA. I ran into St. Jack… sorry, Jesse, earlier at the Lima Country Club while we were looking at venues. He asked about you."
Rachel's expression hardened as if she had a toothache, a deep frown pulling at her lips. "Oh, what did you say?"
Quinn shook her head negatively. "Nothing really. I told him he should probably ask you that. You two still aren't talking?"
"Well he's not talking to me," Rachel clarified, doing her best to keep her emotions in check. She was not going to let stupid Jesse St. James, or, more accurately, a lack of response from him, affect her any longer. "I don't even know. We were completely fine before the accident and even a few days after it but then after that—total radio silence. He hasn't texted or called me back. I've been to rehearsals with my mom a few times and he just walks away."
"Do you think Shelby said anything to him?" Quinn suggested cautiously.
"No I don't think so," Rachel rejected the thought. "I mean, I asked her and I actually think she was coming around on us being… friends. But, whatever, I don't think I did anything wrong, so I will not waste any more time wondering what's in Jesse's head or better yet, what isn't, because he's being dumb. He'll come to me when he's ready to talk."
"Yeah, or I hope he doesn't," Quinn said with a sly smirk. "We could probably channel that angry-Berry attitude toward beating VA at Regionals."
"Oh you don't even know," Rachel remarked in a tone bearing someone who sounded like she was making an unbreakable vow. "Let's talk Regionals."
"You really don't have lunch ready?" Frannie asked again hopefully, closing the fridge after checking it for a second time.
"For the last time, no," Shelby replied, fishing her wallet out of her purse before tossing it at the blonde. "I was not expecting company. But I just got off the phone with mom and she and Judy are on the way back to join us, so can you please go and grab lunch for everybody?"
Frannie's face lit up with interest as she caught the wallet in one smooth motion. "Anything?"
"Anything," Shelby nodded her agreement as she attempted to tidy up her already-impeccably clean home. "But make sure there's enough for at least ten people because I assume your dad's also going to stop by."
"You got it boss," Frannie fake saluted. "Be back soon."
"Famous last words," Kim said with a raised eyebrow as she watched her best friend merrily skip out of the kitchen. "I'm pretty sure Fran's going to come back with pounds of pasta from Breadstix."
Shelby only hummed in acknowledgement as she continued to wipe down the kitchen table, not breaking from her mission.
"Shelly," she grabbed her sister's arm to draw her down on the stool next to her. "Can you sit down? You're making me nervous. What's going on?"
Shelby sighed, setting the canister of disinfectant wipes in her hand on the counter before granting her sister's request. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Kim replied with a shake of her head, flashing a reassuring smile her way. "What's up? And don't say nothing because you clean when you're stressed and it's more sterile than a hospital in here. Sorry I didn't warn you about coming over, but I didn't think you'd mind."
"No it's alright," Shelby said, running her hands through her hair absentmindedly. "Of course you're always welcome here. I'm just distracted. Rachel just had another… moment earlier on our way home and I don't know, she just won't talk to me about things going through her head. There's the car thing. She's also ignoring LeRoy for whatever reason that Hiram and I can't figure out. And I always ask her to talk to me and tell her that she can come to me for anything but I don't want to force her either. She only ever does when things reach its boiling point."
"And you two still haven't talked about what happened at mom and dad's last month?"
"Hmm? No," Shelby answered, positively morose, leaning her head that felt as heavy as bronze against her hand. "And I'm not exactly jumping at the gun to because we've been fine, you know? She's needed me. We've been preoccupied. We've been okay. I don't want to push it. And I definitely do not want to push her."
"Yeah… but maybe you should?" Kim suggested after some consideration. "I mean, how else can you and Rae move forward if you don't address the things that's bothering the both of you. Ignoring it won't make it go away."
"No," Shelby agreed with a small smile at her little sister. "You're right. It won't."
"Wait," Kim paused, her mouth hanging down and eyes wide open. "Did you just say…."
Shelby groaned at the triumphant expression spreading across the younger woman's face. "I take it back!"
Later that evening, Rachel paused in front of her bedroom door yet again and allowed herself a moment to collect her emotions before she stepped out into the hallway.
She tiptoed toward the top of the landing first and tried to listen for any movement downstairs. Hearing none, she turned back around and headed for her mother's room noticing a dim light illuminating the doorway.
Before she could even knock on the partially closed door, her mom's voice called from inside. "Trying to come in here or trying to sneak away again, Rach?"
Shelby sat up as she watched her daughter enter the room, her eyes downcast.
"Can we talk?" Rachel asked timidly as she absently fingered the hem of her mom's NYU t-shirt she's come to love to wear. She looked up nervously and watched the woman throw pillows off and pull the covers up on the other side of the bed.
"Sure," Shelby gestured for the girl to join her. "What's going on?"
Rachel climbed into bed next to her mother and drew her knees up close to her chest and began toying with the edge of the plush duvet before she felt calm enough to speak. Inhaling a large breath, she began. "I'm sorry, mom. I shouldn't have tried to go out without permission this morning. And," she paused for effect. "I'm sorry about fighting with you about my recovery. I know you and dad are only trying to look out for me and I realize now that I've been arguing with you about it at every turn. I wasn't being fair. I probably wouldn't have gotten better this fast if it weren't for you and your help, so I wanted to thank you too… for everything. I," she stopped to take in another breath in the middle of her extensive speech and to swipe away a few errant tears. "And you're also kind of crazy, sometimes mom, but I love you. And I—I don't know what I would do without you. I know I said it already but I really am sorry."
Blinking back her own tears, Shelby pulled Rachel to her side and tucked her daughter's head underneath her own. "It's okay," she said with a contented sigh as her child slowly settled beside her. "Apology accepted, my love."
Rachel nodded gratefully and latched onto her mother as the comfort of being in each other's arms enveloped them both.
A/N: I'm back! More soon, thank you for reading!