Chapter 9: A Slippery Slope
The ground moves under her against her will. She yelps and lands in an undignified heap. She huffs at the resulting laughter. "It's not that funny."
"Yes it is." Scott grins, helping her back up. He releases her once she's steady. "You ready to try again?"
"I don't get it! I have impeccable balance. I'm a dancer!" Rachel whines.
Her mother skis closer and hands her the pole she dropped. "It's very different, honey. Trust me, I know."
With a grumble, Rachel agrees to try again. She hasn't gone skiing in years. Her mom and Scott are helping her relearn the basics. They offered to put her in a beginners class, but she is refusing until she has the basics down. She does not want to be falling on her ass in front of a bunch of kids. The adults had been amused by this, but gave in.
"Relax your upper body a little more." Scott advises.
She copies his motions and follows when he guides her to the beginner slopes. She gets on the practice lift between them and has a sudden memory of being little and sitting between her dads. It's a bittersweet memory. Happy it happened, sad it all went to hell. That, of course, leads to her thinking about the missed calls from her father that are piling up. He finally resorted to texting. She responded. Briefly, but she responded. She accepted his sympathy and assurance that she'll be fine, and returned his "I love you", but that's it. She didn't respond to his insistence that he'll be there for her this time at all. She just doesn't believe it. She believes he wants to be there for her. Not that he will be.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel eventually caves in and agrees to take a beginners class. It's not as bad as she feared; she's not put with a bunch of little kids. There's one young kid and two other teenagers. All four end up falling at some point and everyone laughs, but they also help each other. It wasn't as embarrassing as Rachel had feared. The four kids follow their instructor down progressively harder slopes until they are all ready for green circle slopes on their own. When the class ends, she meets up with her mom and Scott for lunch. They hit the slopes together and have a good time.
"I really have to use the bathroom. Does anyone else?" Her mom asks them.
They shake their heads. Scott looks between them. "But it's cold and we've been at this a while. Why don't Rachel and I go down another slope or two, then we'll meet you for a cup of cocoa at that restaurant over there?"
"Sounds good. Have fun, you two!"
Rachel and Scott get on a lift together. The man seemed uncharacteristically distracted during their conversation so Rachel let it come to an end. She figures this is where the "end" begins. He's pulling away. She bites her lip and turns to look out at the mountains. She hopes her mom doesn't take it too hard.
"So, I had a plan and I wanted to get your opinion on it."
Curious and a little surprised, she turns to him. "Okay, what?"
"I was thinking of proposing to your mom tonight. In the cabin."
Rachel's jaw drops. He still wants to propose? He still wants to be their family? "Really?"
Scott frowns nervously. "Yeah, why? Is it a bad idea? Is it not a good time to ask?"
"I…I'm sick again, Scott."
He nods slowly. "I know."
"Mom's going to be focused on me, not you."
He grins slightly. "I know."
"Do you remember how it was last time? I was a burden. I took a lot of attention and caused a lot of stress. It's a lot to deal with and it wasn't fun. Doctors, treatments, hospital trips, staying home sick, being weak, attacks…do you remember?"
He nods solemnly. "I remember, Rachel."
"And…..you still want to propose? You still want…to be a part of….all that?"
He stares at her more intently than ever. "Yes."
His firm, confident answer makes her throat close up. The lift approaches the top of the slope. The attendant yells for them to raise the bar and exit the lift. They don't. They keep staring at each other. The lift loops around and heads back down the mountain. The wind ruffles the end of her hair not covered by her beanie.
"Rachel, I remember what it was like. I want to help support you both. I know your mom will be focused on you, as she should be. Let her take care of you. She'll make sure you have everything you need to fight this. I'll take care of her. I'll make sure she has everything she needs to help you fight this." He takes her gloved hand in his. "And, I'd like to help you, too. I want to be there for both of you. Remember what I said before, I'm a strong guy. I can carry all your baggage and you can focus on the journey. When you're in remission again, we'll celebrate again. Together. I want to be there for all of it. I want to help you and your mom through this tough time. I want to celebrate with you when you recover. I want to marry your mom and stand with her at your graduation and threaten Finn when he comes to pick you up for prom. I want to help reassure your mom when she panics about you heading off to college. I want to help her relax and enjoy her life and remind her that she can just go visit you in New York. And I want to remind you not to get annoyed when your mother comes to visit you frequently in New York. When we come to visit you frequently."
They ignore the bemused looks from the people at the bottom of the slope as the lift loops around the base and starts up the mountain once again. Rachel uses her gloved hand to dry her eyes and swallows hard.
"It's not going to be easy." She warns him.
"Nothing worth fighting for is."
"You really love my mom that much?"
"I do." He dips his head a little, looking nervous. "I love you, too, Rachel. Besides, you're kind of the reason we met! She came into the weight room to ask John about getting stronger so she could lift you. I happened to be there and offered my services. Every session, she talked about you. It was all about you, Rachel. As I was getting to know her, I was getting to know you, too. The two of you have always been connected in my mind. And…..forgive me for sounding sappy, but….in my heart, too."
Smiling, Rachel raises the bar as they approach the top. The attendant is looking at them expectantly.
"Gonna get off this time?" He calls out to them teasingly.
They chuckle and nod. They get off the lift and ski to an open section where people can stop to decide what trail to go down. Rachel makes sure to face Scott and slides up right next to him. It's difficult to hug while on skis, but they manage.
"I think I kind of love you, too, Scott. And I'm thrilled to have you as my stepdad."
"So you're okay with me proposing to your mom tonight?"
"Yes! I'm assuming you'd like some privacy for this." Rachel adjusts her ski poles and steps sideways so that her ski stops sliding over his.
He hesitates. "I…she'd prefer it in private, wouldn't she?"
Rachel nods. "Definitely. I can go up to bed early. I'll say I want to call Kurt or Finn. In fact, I really will call one of them. Probably Kurt. He loves gossip."
Scott nods, an excited smile blooming. "Perfect, thanks."
"Scott? Mom really loves you. I think she fell for you pretty fast, she was just…..too focused on me to do anything about it."
He grins. "I had hoped that was the case."
"So if she says no, it won't be because she doesn't love you. I am completely positive that she'll say yes. If she says no, she'll want to say yes, but might say no for some stupid reason. She'll probably blame aplastic anemia. Don't let her. Her decision should just be based on her feelings for you, nothing else."
His smile softens. "That possibility crossed my mind. Don't worry, I'm not going to give up without a fight. But I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think she'd say yes. And, uh, do you think….." he clears his throat "….I really hate to ask this, but…would you be willing to wear headphones and listen to music after your phone call?"
She frowns and tilts her head, trying to read his expression. Why does he look so embarrassed? "Sure, but why?"
He looks away and clears his throat. A hint of red is creeping up his neck and starting to flush his cheeks. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."
Still frowning, Rachel tries to think of the only times she has seen this man embarrassed. Usually it was when she'd walk in on them making out. Oh. Her eyes widen. Ooohhh. "Eeeewwww!"
Scott is bright red and his eyes are looking anywhere except at her. "I'm sorry! Forget I asked!"
"No, it's fine, just…..ew. Yes, I will wear headphones and listen to music, loudly, after ending my phone call." She shudders in disgust. "It's just gross thinking about your parents….doing that."
He stammers for a moment, then points to a trail across from them. "Right, uh, ready to head down this trail?"
She gets the feeling he's more eager to end this conversation than he is to actually ski down the slope, but frankly she feels the same way. She quickly agrees and they take off. When they get to the bottom, they use their momentum to ski all the way to the wooden steps leading to the restaurant. They pop off their skis and lean them on the rack. Walking in ski boots is not a simple task. It's exhausting. Rachel tries to focus on how normal it is to find it exhausting and not think that AA might be what's making the trek into the restaurant so tiring. Her mother is sitting at a table with three mugs.
"There you two are! What took so long?"
They share a glance. "We had a very serious talk." Before her mother can question him, Scott goes on. "She still doesn't think the Mayor was the best villain."
Her mother groans."Not this again. Let it go, Scott. She's stubborn."
Scott shakes his head. "I'll get her to see reason one of these days."
Rachel grins.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After a very nice dinner together, they head back to the cabin they're renting. Rachel makes a show of yawning while grabbing a water bottle and a bag of chips.
"Where are you off to?" Her mom questions.
"To chat with Kurt. I told him I'd call and tell him about how skiing is going and he's supposed to tell me how it's going at his grandmother's house."
"Alright. Will you be back down after your phone call?"
"Nah, I'll shower and go to bed after talking to him. I want to be rested for another day of skiing tomorrow."
She kisses her mom's cheek, hugs Scott, and takes off for the stairs. She really hopes tonight goes well for them. On that note, she'd better make sure her headphones are in her room before calling Kurt. Ew.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"It's really coming down out there. It'll be nice to have fresh snow on the slopes tomorrow."
"It will, yeah."
Shelby turns away from the window and rejoins Scott on the blanket in front of the fire. He refills their glasses with champagne and hands her one. She'd been amused, but he insisted champagne was absolutely called for tonight. Mostly to go with the strawberries he brought. But also he wanted to celebrate their first real "family" vacation together. It was such a sweet thought that she couldn't deny him. He clinks his glass against hers.
"To a great day and many more like it."
She smiles. "To many more."
They sip from their glasses. He keeps his eyes on hers. She lowers her glass and frowns in bewilderment when a look of mild exasperation passes over his face. "What?"
He shakes his head, smiling softly. "Nothing."
She moves closer and sets her glass down, keeping her eyes on him. "I love you."
She kisses him. He returns her kiss, deepening it. "I love you, too."
He takes her hand and slowly kisses her palm while maintaining eye contact. It is such an underrated sensual act and she absolutely melts into a happy puddle of goo. He kisses up her arm and neck. His lips slide across her cheek and reclaim her lips. She expected him to pull her down and continue this, so she's mildly disappointed when he pulls back instead.
"I love you. And I love Rachel."
She smiles. "I know you do."
"I want to be there for both of you. In good times and in bad."
"You are, honey." She assures him.
"I know, but I want to be around more."
Her mind starts racing. "More? Are you asking if you can move in?"
"Sort of. Maybe not full time. I know you two need some space and I was thinking it'd be a slow transition."
"I'd love that. We'll just have to check with Rachel."
He nods. "Of course. But Shel, I want more in other ways, too."
She frowns. "What do you mean?"
He takes a sip of his champagne and motions to her glass. She grabs it absentmindedly and takes a sip, still trying to decipher what he means. He grins and chuckles softly.
"What?"
He shakes his head, clearly trying to hold back a smile. "You are adorable. Even when you're oblivious."
Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head. What is he getting at? He sighs, but is obviously still amused about something. He takes a bite of a large strawberry, then sips his champagne. He holds the strawberry to her lips. She takes a bite, then takes a drink of her own champagne. Something bumps against her lip. Startled, she looks down. There, sitting at the bottom of her glass in the last of the champagne, is a ring. She gasps softly, her eyes jumping to Scott's. He's smiling at her; his expression is loving and tinged with exasperation.
"I've been trying to get you to notice that damn ring for the past ten minutes." He laughs.
She joins his laughter, tears filling her eyes. He takes the glass from her and removes the ring. Scott composes himself and looks her in the eye. "I love you and I love your daughter. I want you to be my wife. I want Rachel to be my stepdaughter. I want to spend my life with you. Shelby, will you marry me?"
She swallows furiously, trying to get the lump to budge so she can speak. It's useless. She resorts to nodding and kisses him. They pull back breathless and his eyes are bright.
"Is that a yes?" His hopeful tone makes her smile widen.
"Yes!" She kisses him soundly.
He slides the ring on her finger and she stares at it happily, taking in every detail. It's simple but elegant. It's perfect for her. She smiles joyously at him. She takes in a breath to reiterate how much she loves him when reality suddenly hits her. Rachel is sick again. She can feel her face fall.
"What is it?"
"I want to marry you, Scott."
He braces himself. "But?"
"But Rachel is sick again." She glances a the stairs. The door to her daughter's door is shut. "She's going to need a lot of care. A lot of attention. Both physically and emotionally. I need to focus on her, not a wedding."
He nods seriously. "I know and I agree. You absolutely should focus on her. And I may not have been around a whole lot last time, but I do remember what it was like. You need to focus on taking care of her. Let me focus on taking care of you. Of both of you. I'm strong. I can handle it. I can help. Then, when she's in remission again, we'll be able to relax and just focus on being a family together."
Shelby places her palm on his cheek. "Are you sure, Scott? It's not going to be easy."
He smiles and turns his head to kiss her palm. "I'm sure. Nothing worth fighting for is easy."
"Is it really fair to you? To get engaged, just to have me focus on on my daughter and not you or our wedding?"
He chuckles. "You and Rachel are so much alike."
"What are you talking about?"
"I talked to her about this. I wanted to make sure she was okay with me proposing to you. She is, by the way. She was very excited. But, before she was excited, she was nervous. For the same exact reasons you just listed. And I told her the same thing I told you. You're both worth it. I want us to be a family. I want to marry you and be your husband. I want to be Rachel's stepdad. I want to support you while you support Rachel. I want to celebrate her going into remission again. I want to threaten Finn to treat her right and comfort you when you panic when she heads off to college. I want to help you relax and enjoy your life. I want to enjoy my life. And I'm positive I'll enjoy it best with you. With both of you. The good and the bad. I don't want you to worry about not paying much attention to me. I don't need a whole lot. I just need you to promise to marry me and love me and let me help you two."
Shelby wipes her tears. "You spoke to Rachel? And she was really okay with it?"
"She really is. She told me that if you say no, it won't be because you don't love me. She's convinced that if you say no, it'll be because you want to say yes, but you have a stupid reason to say no. She said that if you brought up aplastic anemia, that I was to not let you. She said it shouldn't have any impact on your decision."
Shelby laughs. "Of course she did. I really love that girl."
"Me, too."
"Yes, Scott. I will marry you."
He gives her the brightest smile she's ever seen from him, then moves in for a kiss. She can't get over how perfect the scene is. The cabin in the mountains in winter, the heavy snowfall, the fireplace, the champagne and strawberries, the ring, and the absolutely wonderful man before her. After a while, as they begin heating up and no longer need the warmth of the fire, Scott lifts her. He carries her into their bedroom and shuts the door.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shelby lays on top of her fiancé and runs her fingers across his bare chest. Almost everything in her life is perfect right now. All she needs is for her daughter to go back into remission. She'd willingly give up everything else good in her life to get it. Unfortunately, it is out of her control. They have two more days here, then they'll return to Akron a few days before New Years. They're planning on celebrating with the Hummel-Hudson clan. Well, they were. That was before learning about the relapse. Now, her extended family wants to come. She's not sure what would be best. Stick with their original plan and have a small party? Or let the extended family come and make it bigger? She breathes out a frustrated sigh. She hates not knowing what's best. Moonlight filters through the window and makes her engagement ring glimmer. She smiles. She allows her worries to slip away for now, focusing instead on positive things to help her mind relax so she can sleep.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
She's the first one awake in the morning. She kisses her fiancé's cheek and takes a quick shower. Then she pads quietly to Rachel's room and peeks in. Her daughter is sprawled on the bed, one foot sticking out and her headphones on the pillow next to her. She grins. That seems to happen frequently. The mother covers the wayward foot with the comforter and brushes Rachel's hair off her face. She kisses her forehead and heads downstairs. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, wondering why she feels like something is missing. Yero. She got used to petting the dog when checking on Rachel. He's being watched by the Evans' once again. Shelby heads to the kitchen and starts cooking up breakfast for her family. She smiles happily. All she needs is Rachel to go into remission. That's all she needs and her life will be damn near perfect. She hums happily while cooking.
Scott walks into the kitchen with an appreciative groan. "That smells good."
He wraps his arms around her from behind and kisses her neck. She laughs and tries to stir the scrambled eggs. "You're going to make me burn these or make a mess."
"Gross."
The adults turn to see Rachel walking into the kitchen with a teasing grimace on her face. Shelby laughs. "Deal with it, kid."
Rachel grins cautiously. "Does that mean—"
"She said yes!" Scott hoots.
Rachel slams into them, hugging them both tight. They're a happy family clump. The eggs start burning, but they could not possibly care less. Shelby kisses both of their cheeks and enjoys the feeling of being wrapped up in the two people she loves most. After they break apart, Shelby scrapes the burnt eggs into the disposal and starts a new batch. While she cooks they discuss the engagement and wedding. The adults decide against setting a date for the time being. Rachel groans.
"Uncle Burt and Carole put off their wedding because I was sick. I don't want you two to do the same!"
"We're not putting it off, Rach. We haven't even started planning!"
"Okay, but can you plan to get married before I go off to college? Assuming I go back into remission soon, anyway. I know it's only like eight months away, which doesn't leave you a whole lot of time to plan."
Shelby's eyes fill with tears. Eight months. That's it? Scott rubs her back. "We'll see."
While Shelby mentally changes what she needs for her life to be perfect to having her healthy daughter stay closer to home for longer, Scott brings the food over and Rachel sets the table. As they eat, their normal, easy conversation starts up. They avoid any talk about Rachel being sick. This vacation is supposed to be fun, not stressful.
"This really is a beautiful ring. It's perfect for me. You have exceptional taste."
"Thanks!" Rachel responds with a cheeky grin.
Shelby looks between them in confusion. The other two share a conspiratorial look before Scott laughs. "Rachel helped me pick the ring."
Tears fill her eyes yet again this morning. "Really?" They nod happily. Shelby looks back down at her ring in a new light. The engagement ring that her fiancé proposed to her with is one that her daughter helped him pick. It makes the ring all the more special to her. Then she recalls something Scott had said the night before. "When did the two of you talk about us getting married?"
They share another look. "A few times. The first was a while ago when you got sauce on your shirt. Rachel questioned my intentions towards you."
Shelby gives her daughter a look. Rachel grins impishly and shrugs. "I needed to be sure he wasn't going to hurt you."
"The next time we truly talked about it was yesterday when you went to the bathroom and we kept skiing. We were later than expected joining you for hot cocoa because we were talking about how Rachel felt about me proposing to you."
"In case you haven't figured it out, I was all for it."
"Well," Scott says quietly, becoming serious, "after I confirmed that I still wanted to propose after learning she relapsed. She reminded me about how tough it could be and I reminded her that I'm strong and can handle it."
"For the record, he not only got my permission, but he also got Grandpa's."
"What?"
Scott grins. "I asked your father for your hand in marriage. He gave his blessing." He frowns uncertainly. "Then he showed me his gun collection."
Shelby and Rachel burst out laughing, fully believing it.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel lies on her bedroom floor playing tug of war with Yero. She'd really enjoyed their ski trip. Skiing was a lot of fun. Scott proposing and her Mom accepting made it even better. Everyone was in high spirits and happy. It made the final two days of their trip even better. It was the happy, fun reprieve they'd needed. She feels steadier and better able to face her diagnosis. She'll get better fast. She has to. She'll do everything she has to to go into remission. Since she doesn't have Danton's, it won't be so bad. She can handle this. She has plenty of love and support. She'll be fine. She just hopes it resolves itself quickly and with little-to-no drama. Despite being a drama queen herself, she'd be quite happy to leave the drama on the stage. It also helped that her father finally stopped calling. It was a relief for her. She got a reprieve for a few days. She knows she'll have to answer the phone and talk to him soon, though. Yero yanks the rope from her hands and she laughs. He drops the toy and instead jumps on top of her and starts licking her face. She laughs and pets him. She'd missed him. She wonders if she'll be able to bring him with her to college. Her bedroom door opens and her Mom walks in.
"Hi, Mom." Her mother sits on the floor near her and leans against the bed. Her silence combined with the look on her face has Rachel sitting up in concern. "Mom?"
Yero has gone still, staring at her mother. She takes a deep breath. "Honey, we need to talk."
Rachel's gut twists. "I know I still haven't talked about it in much detail yet. But I just haven't been able to verbalize it all."
Her mother nods. "I understand, honey. But I'm not talking about that." She swallows hard. "I just got a call from Mr. Pavers. Your father's attorney."
Her mom takes her hands in hers. "Your father passed away the other day. I'm so sorry, baby girl."
An uncomfortable cold squeezes her chest. She blinks. No. It doesn't make any sense. "What? How? What happened?"
Her mom squeezes her hands. "Alcohol poisoning. He drank himself to death."
Rachel's mouth falls open but no more words come out. She pulls her hands from her mother's grip and twists her shirt. The world tilts. The cold feeling in her chest spreads, making her shiver.
"Honey—"
She shakes her head. She doesn't want to hear it. "Because of me?" Her voice sounds faint. "Because I got sick again? Or because I wouldn't answer his calls? I didn't answer his calls. I didn't call him back. I wasn't ready to talk, but I didn't think—I didn't—he—I didn't—"
Her mother grabs her, holding her close. Rachel buries her face in her mother's neck and shudders. The crushing weight of the guilt cracks her defenses and tears flood her face.
"It is not your fault. Not at all. It is perfectly okay that you weren't ready to talk about it yet. It was his choice to not only return to drinking, but to drink so much in such a short time. He should have known better. It is not your fault."
"But I blew him off!" Rachel wails, "I knew he was upset and alone and likely to turn to drinking and I still didn't answer his calls. I was mad at him, too. But I didn't want him to die!"
"I know, baby girl, I know. And he knew that."
"Did he?"
"I'm positive of it."
She doesn't believe it. She can't. Her mom rocks her. It's comforting, but her negative thoughts run rampant. She should have known. She should have sucked it up and answered her damn phone. She should have told him she loved him. The guilt is a physical thing, chewing away at her insides. The pain within and the arms cradling her become too much. She can only handle one at a time and she can't dislodge her guilt as easily as she can her mother's arms. Rachel pulls away from her mother and scoots back until she hits the wall. Her mom watches her sadly. Yero follows her. He tries to climb on her lap. She pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around her them so that he can't. She buries her face in her knees. She feels her mom place a hand on her arm. She jerks away from it. The hand drops.
"Alright. I'll give you a little space. Come to me whenever you're ready, baby girl."
It's her fault.
Yero shoves his muzzle into the crevice under her neck. She tries to curl up tighter to limit his range, but he's persistent. He whines and licks the side of her face.
It's her fault.
She gasps for breath, her tears coming hard and fast. Yero jumps up, putting his front legs on her. Rachel falls over onto the floor. Yero lays on top of her.
She should have just answered his damn calls. He wouldn't have drunk himself to death. How could she be so selfish?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shelby presses her face into her hands and slowly releases a breath, listening to her daughter's sobs from upstairs. "Fuck you, Leroy. This is all your fault."
She grabs her phone. Now would probably be a good time to call her real dad. Burt answers with a cheerful "'Yello."
"Burt. Can you come over?"
"Of course. What's wrong?" His tone immediately becomes serious. She wonders if he can hear Rachel's faint cries from the background. Or if her own tone implied something was wrong.
"Burt….Leroy's dead. Alcohol poisoning."
"Fuck. Fucking hell. Fuck Leroy. Like she doesn't have enough to deal with at the moment?"
Shelby is relieved to hear her own sentiment repeated. Just her saying it made her feel like a bitch. But if others are repeating it, she feels less guilty. Fuck Leroy.
"I'm on my way."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel sits squished between her mom and dad. The dad that earned the title. They each hold one of her hands. She had calmed down, but had remained in her room until they'd come up to check on her. The three of them have been sitting silently for the past half an hour. She appreciates that they're letting her be quiet and not pushing. She lets her head drop against her dad's upper arm.
"Did it hurt?"
"No, baby girl. He just got very drunk and then passed out and never woke up."
Rachel frowns. While she's glad he didn't suffer, it doesn't seem fair, either. She nearly died almost a year ago. She suffered through horrible pain. She fought it with all her strength. And here, her father got upset about something that wasn't even happening to him, got drunk, fell asleep, and basically died peacefully? It doesn't seem fair. Even daddy had a more painful death. He'd had a heart attack. He'd had pain first. Maybe shes not being fair. Maybe his emotional pain was high? And he was drinking to drown it out? Wouldn't that make his death a suicide? Suicide. Killing yourself. She had the option of letting herself die, but even then it was the aplastic anemia killing her. That's different. Right? Did her father mean to? Was he just trying to wash away the pain? Or was he trying to die? Or merely hoping to? Or not caring. Did he think she wouldn't care if he died?
That thought pierces her heart. It's not true. She was angry with him. Disappointed. Hurt. There was certainly a lot of distance between them. They haven't been close in many years. But she loves….loved….him. She didn't want him to die. She should have told him she loves him more. She should have been a better daughter. She should have answered the damn phone, even just once.
Now it's too late.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
She leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed. A heavy frown pulls at her lips. She can just make out her daughter's form on the bed in the dark room. Rachel is asleep. She'd refused to come downstairs. She'd refused to eat. She'd stopped talking entirely. She spent hours lying in her bed, staring blankly at the wall. She doesn't shove them off when they try to hold her anymore, but she doesn't seek comfort. More worryingly, even though she doesn't fight them, it almost seems like the girl isn't letting herself really accept the comfort they're trying to offer. She doesn't curl into them or hug them. She's just….there. Burt had left after a while. Kurt and Finn came over. The two boys stayed with her for hours. After failing to get her to talk, Shelby had gently encouraged them to go home. They hadn't been happy about it. She'd called Renee and set up an emergency session for tomorrow.
The mother shakes her head and sighs. She wishes there was more she could do.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel is back up in her room. Shelby isn't thrilled about that but is letting her be. The girl opened up a little in therapy earlier. Apparently, she's feeling guilty and blaming herself. It's preposterous! Rachel has nothing to feel guilty about. She should not be shouldering any of the blame. It all rests on Leroy's shoulders. She's relieved and proud of Rachel for opening up and talking to Renee. However, she's upset that she has gone back to not really talking. Scott will be coming over later and he'll be bringing some of his belongings. Just enough for a couple days. She feels better knowing he'll be around more. The doorbell rings, jarring her from her thoughts. Santana and Brittany are on her doorstep, smiling happily in greeting.
"Hi Ms. Corcoran!"
"Hi, girls. Are you here to see Rachel?"
"Yeah, we had plans. She didn't show and isn't answering her phone, so we figured she forgot. We know she's handling her relapse pretty well, but we also know she's still upset. We're here to hang out and try to cheer her up."
Shelby closes her eyes. Shit. She steps back, letting them enter. "Girls, come here for a minute."
They hang up their coats, quickly discard their boots, and follow her into the living room.
"Girls, Rachel's father passed away. He died a couple days ago. We only just found out yesterday. Rachel is really upset about it."
Brittany's eyes widen and fill with tears. Without speaking, the tall blonde takes off up the stairs. Santana remains seated.
"Not to be a complete bitch, but…..isn't this kind of a good thing in the long run? I mean it hurts and sucks right now, but it'll be less stress, disappointment, and heartbreak for her later on."
Shelby swallows back her amusement. "I see your point. But please don't even hint at that to Rachel. Not only is she very torn up about this, but I don't think she has fully dealt with her relapse yet. No matter what, she has had two major emotional blows just a week apart. She is very emotionally fragile right now."
"I get it. I still think he's an asshole and I won't shed a tear for the man. But I can understand why Rachel will miss him." The Latina sighs. "I can be a supportive friend."
Shelby chuckles quietly and pulls the girl into a hug. "I know you can, honey. Thank you."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Santana joins her friends upstairs. Brittany is already cuddling with Rachel, making San smile. She climbs on the bed and they make a Rachel sandwich. She tries to push her personal feelings out of her mind and focus on the fact that her friend just lost her father. Regardless of the bad blood between them, Rachel has always loved her father and is hurt by the loss. Santana swears to herself that she'll keep her opinions to herself and focus on helping Rachel deal with the loss of a parent. Again. She's already lost one dad. The fact that she still has, like, two more dads is besides the point. The men who lovingly raised her from infancy are dead.
She's not crying, but she's not talking, either. Rachel stays silent and still in their embrace. That's worrying. She remembers Rachel admitting to going silent right after being told she'd relapsed. Now she's silent again? Brittany is frowning. She doesn't usually do well with silence. And she definitely doesn't do well with watching people she loves hurt. Her girlfriend is going to need a little TLC later. Right now, though, she needs to focus on her friend. Rachel rests her cheek on Santana's shoulder, her forehead pressed to her neck. The normally fiery girl can't imagine what Rachel's going through right now. First finding out she relapsed, then her father dying a week later? It'd be tough for anyone. But Rachel feels things very deeply. They all know that. Santana thinks it's part of the reason why touch is so important to her. When words fail, a loving touch can usually reach her. With that in mind, Santana lightly runs her hand over Rachel's arm.
"He's at peace, Rachel. That's a good thing, right?" She whispers.
"Yeah. Lucky him."
Santana blinks. That seems like an odd way to respond. She shares a concerned look with Brittany.
"What?" Brittany kisses Rachel's cheek.
"Nothing."
"No, what do you mean?"
Rachel bites her lip. "Nothing. Forget it."
Santana frowns. Something about it sets her on edge, she's just not sure why. She brushes off the tiny alarm bell as an overreaction; her stress meter is on high again now that Rachel has relapsed. The girls convince Rachel to get up and watch a movie with them. They choose a cheesy romantic comedy that they can laugh at and make fun of. Rachel doesn't laugh much, but she does smile at times so San takes it as a win. They leave before dinner, but only after reminding Rachel that she can call them at any time to talk about anything. Rachel nods and thanks them. Santana's glad she's talking more, even if she's still quieter than normal.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shelby watches Rachel push her food around her plate, not actually eating it. She's not surprised, but she is disappointed. And worried. Her kid is going through too much at once and she doesn't know how to make any of it easier for her.
"You need to eat, Rachel."
"I don't want to."
"I didn't ask if you wanted to. You need to eat. It'll keep you healthy."
"Well I'm not exactly healthy, am I?" She snarks.
Shelby feels guilty for briefly missing her daughter's silence from before. She sighs. Scott stays quiet, letting them argue it out.
"Eat, Rachel."
Rachel drops her fork and leans back. "I'm not hungry."
Shelby breaths out slowly. "Because I know you're going through a lot right now," Rachel looks away with a slight scowl, "I will allow you to choose something else to eat. Fruit, cereal, anything. But you have to eat."
"No."
Shelby looks at her closely, taking in the paleness of her cheeks, her watery eyes, and tightly pressed lips. This is not a battle she will win. "Fine."
Without another word, Rachel leaves the kitchen with Yero following close behind. They listen to her hurry up the stairs and close her bedroom door. Scott takes her hand.
"She'll be okay, Shel. She's just going through a lot right now."
"She needs to keep her strength up. And I wish she'd talk a little more."
"Didn't she talk to Renee?"
"Yes, but only enough to imply her feelings of guilt. She shouldn't feel guilty! And those feelings on top of the ones she has yet to express, on top of relapsing just last week…I'm worried about her, Scott."
"This isn't like her?"
"No, it's not. I've talked to Burt. He said she would get quiet or not talk about things she wasn't ready to, but she'd talk about other things as a distraction. This complete silence is new."
"But she's not completely silent."
"Near enough. She barely talks. And when she doesn't, it's not about anything significant."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"You haven't asked about the funeral. Do you want to go?"
Rachel rolls over to look at her. "Yes."
Shelby sits next to her on the bed. "Alright. Are you ready to hear about it?"
She nods.
"His body was shipped to a funeral home in Lima yesterday. According to your father's wishes, which he worked out with Mr. Pavers years ago, the service will be short and simple."
"Will he be buried next to Daddy?"
"Yes, he will."
"When?"
"Tomorrow. Mr. Pavers put an announcement in the paper yesterday. Do you have a dress you can wear?"
Rachel nods. Shelby stands to leave, but Rachel calls her back.
"Mom?" Her daughter isn't looking at her. She's looking up at the ceiling. "What….what would I have worn at my own funeral, if….if I'd died?"
Shelby's stomach drops and bile rushes up her throat. She swallows it down. "What?"
"I know I asked to be cremated, but I figured that wouldn't be until after the service. Or would it have been before? Then just have people come look at a picture of me next to my urn?"
Uncomfortable heat spreads through her, making it difficult to breathe. "Rachel, why are you—"
"Never mind." Her child rolls over.
Shaking her head, Shelby returns to the bed. "No, Rachel. What prompted this? Your father's funeral?" She shrugs. Shelby rubs her arm. This is not a discussion she wants to have. Ever. But since Rachel brought it up, she can't just dismiss it. It's a little concerning. "The truth is, I don't know. I…..even when we thought that was a possibility, I was not able to think about that. I didn't have a plan." Her mind races, trying to work out why Rachel is asking this right now. Is it simple curiosity? Is it because her father's funeral is tomorrow? Is she worried about her own future now that she's sick again? "Rach, you're not going to die."
"I almost did."
"But you didn't. And you won't." She kisses her head. "So don't worry about it."
She walks out, hoping that's the end of it.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
His funeral will be held tomorrow, on New Years Eve. Not intentionally, but timing wise, that's when it has to happen. Rachel can't sleep. She looked through her phone history at all the missed calls from him. She checked how long it's been since she last spoke to him. Too long. She reread their final text messages. He told her he loved her. She told him she loved him. She's glad she did that. She hopes he believed it. She meant it, truly. But then she'd blown off his statement that he'd be there to support her. And she'd ignored his calls. She researched alcohol poisoning. She'd read up on how much alcohol would have to be drunk, and in what amount of time, to cause death. She did the math. He probably started drinking after their final text conversation when she clearly didn't believe his assurance of support. Then the calls stopped. From the time the calls stopped to when he was found dead….the only logical explanation is that she's the reason why. Her. Perhaps his fear of losing her. His worries about her health and life expectancy. She knows him….knew him. He probably did the same research she did and saw the drop in life expectancy with a second life threatening diagnosis. A statistic that Dr. Reed neglected to mention and she's been too afraid to bring up with her mother. Perhaps that drove him to drink.
But what she's sure killed him was her lack of faith in him. The fact that she refused to answer his calls or call him back and the fact that she clearly didn't trust him to support her through this diagnosis. That's what drove him to drink himself to death. She wonders what his final thoughts were. Were they of her? Were they filled with regret? Or anger? Or longing? Were they of her daddy? Did he know he was dying? Was he trying to kill himself? She can't put it past him. Can she blame him? No. She really can't. She understands being in so much pain that you just want it to end. Hers had been physical, not emotional, but pain is pain.
A silent tear drips form the corner of her eye and down her temple. She continues to stare at the shadows dancing across her ceiling. Yero is asleep at her feet. She knows she could go wake her mom. Even with Scott here, neither would mind. She knows this. But she can't bring herself to. She can't bring herself to talk about this aloud. It's hard enough to think it. It's her fault. Her father died and it's her fault. It's not her fault he chose to drink. It's not even her fault that he was hurting. It's her fault because she knew this was a possibility and she still chose to not talk to him. If she'd just answered the damn call, even once…but she didn't. Everyone had been so upset with her for risking her life to save Ollie. They told her to put herself first. And now, when it came to her father, she put her own emotions first and didn't talk to him. The result? He died. That's what happens when you put yourself first, apparently. People you love die. She's glad she saved Ollie. She has never regretted it. Even if she had died or been hurt worse, she would not have regretted it. But the situation with her father…she regrets it. She regrets not acting.
A couple years ago she'd read an article about people at the end of their life. She doesn't remember why. Probably related to some school assignment. What she does remember is that when it came down to it, the dying people all had the same sentiment on regret: they regretted the things they didn't do, not the things they did. She did save Ollie and she doesn't regret it. She didn't save her father and she does regret it.
Guess they were on to something.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Honey?" The sound startles her and she looks up. Her mother is standing just inside her room. "Did you sleep at all?"
She looks down. No. She didn't. There doesn't seem to be a point in telling her mother this. Her mom sighs and joins her on the bed.
"If you need to take it one day at a time, you can. We'll get through today and the funeral. Then we'll get through tomorrow and the day after and the day after that."
She nods. She wonders if her mother would have taken her own advice if she had died. Or if she does die in the near future. She looks back down at her phone. Her mother does the same.
"Who are you texting with?" Rachel pulls the phone away slightly. "Rach?"
Her mother gently grasps the hand with the phone and turns it so she can see the screen. The list of missed calls from her father flash at her.
"Oh, honey. Have you been looking at this all night?" She tries to pull the phone away. Her mother is stronger. "It was not your fault."
"I didn't answer his calls."
"That doesn't make his death your fault."
"Yes, it does!"
She gives a yank. Her mother pulls it out of her hand. "No, Rachel. It doesn't. And I'm not going to let you stare at this and make yourself needlessly upset."
That brings her up short. "Needlessly?"
"Rachel, I only meant th—"
"Give it back."
"No. You don't need to—"
"I do!"
She reaches for it. Her mother holds it away from her. "No."
"Please!"
She can feel her face fall and her tears renew. Her mother tosses the phone to Scott, who she hadn't noticed standing at the door. When Rachel tries to go after it, her mother wraps her in her arms and pulls her back down to the bed.
"I need it!"
"No, you don't."
She gives up, slumping bonelessly in her mom's arms and sobbing. "It's all I have left!"
Her mom rocks her and hums. She's not sure how long they stayed like that. Scott joined them, resting a hand on each of them in silent support. When she's calm, her mom kisses her head and sits her up. She smiles sadly while wiping her tears away.
"Those messages are not all you have left of him. You have pictures, videos, gifts, your birthday card, and most importantly, your memories. That phone just showed calls, not actual connections. You need to focus on the good connections you had with him. Now, if there are any voicemails or text messages from him that you want to make sure you save, you can let me know. Another day. Not today. And we'll find a way to preserve them for you so they're not just on that phone. Okay?"
"But the missed calls—"
"Were not the be all and end all of your relationship with him. They did not define your relationship. Ignoring his calls was perfectly okay. You needed time. Even he knew that. And he knew that your distant relationship was his fault. Not yours."
She's not convinced, but she's too tired to argue. Her mother takes her silence as acceptance.
"Rachel, your father loved you. He also failed you in many ways. I'm not detracting from his love and the good he did for you, but the fact is he made many mistakes. And that's all his death was. His own mistake. He drank too much. It was no one's fault but his own. I promise you he would not blame you. He'd probably be upset that you're blaming yourself. It was his poor choices that caused his death. Nothing more. Now, I know you didn't sleep, but you also haven't eaten in a long time. You need food. The funeral is in a couple hours. You can nap after, if you'd like."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shelby watches her. She's worried about her kid. It's a lot for anyone to deal with, but a teenager? A teenager who has already suffered enough? She needs to find a way to get her to stop feeling guilty. She sighs, watching Rachel dump the majority of her breakfast down the disposal. She hadn't eaten much, but it was something, at least. When Rachel goes upstairs to shower and dress, Scott sits beside her.
"Do you know who is coming?"
"My family. They weren't going to bring the little ones, but once they heard that Rachel was sad, the boys insisted on coming to try to cheer her up. Her friends offered to go for moral support, but Rachel told them not to bother. She knows that none of them were fond of him. Kurt and Finn are going, as are Burt and Carole. And they're only going for moral support, too. I think some of his old coworkers and friends are coming. I'm not sure about any of his relatives. He was disowned when he came out. They haven't spoken in many years." Scott has an odd expression on his face. "What?"
"Nothing, it's just…it seems like most of the people attending the funeral are going to support Rachel, not to mourn Leroy."
Shelby sighs deeply and looks out the window. "Leroy was once a good man. Honestly. I wouldn't have handed my baby over to them if I'd thought otherwise. His husband died and it destroyed him. He became….the worst version of himself. An abusive alcoholic. I hope people come to mourn him. To mourn the man he used to be. But because of his behavior for the past seven years, I don't expect very many. He burned a lot of bridges with his drinking."
"That's pretty sad." Scott shifts in his seat. "It's also sad that the person he burned the worst is the one who is taking his death the hardest."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
More people than she'd expected show up. She's glad. Friends, coworkers (old and new), old neighbors, and a couple people who don't talk to anyone but whom she thinks are family, all come to pay their respects. Just as he'd wanted, it was a small, brief, simple service. Shelby walks up to the coffin.
"Thank you for raising my daughter and giving her a happy early childhood. Fuck you for hurting my daughter." The words are barely a whisper. "I promise to love her always and give her everything she needs to be happy, healthy, and successful. Please, please, look out for her as much as you can. Do what you can from your end to make her healthy and keep her safe. I need her here with me. For the rest of my life. At the very least, find a way to let her know this wasn't her fault."
It's Burt who walks with Rachel up to the coffin. It seemed right. He's the one who saved her from a horrible home life. He's the one who earned the title of Dad. He's the one adult who has been in her life the longest now. He takes her hand and talks to her quietly. Shelby doesn't hear the words, but Rachel hesitantly nods and rises. Together, with Rachel clinging to his hand and looking very much like a little girl, they make their way to the front. Burt holds her while she cries. Shelby looks away. She couldn't pay full attention to the service. She's grateful for Scott holding her hand. She'd talked to him last night. He knows that she was worried about how she'd react today. She hasn't been to many funerals. And she hasn't been to a funeral since having Rachel in her life. Having come so close to losing her daughter almost a year ago, she was worried she'd struggle to separate what might have been from reality and fall apart. She's also worried that elements of this very real funeral may intrude on her still-present nightmares of Rachel dying. She has a session with Jean next week. Until then, she hopes Scott's presence will be enough to help her sleep peacefully. If not, she know she'll be able to curl up with Rachel. That always helps her calm down.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel's feet remain firmly planted on the ground. She does not move. She rethinks that statement. She does move, but only as much as the earth does. The earth is in constant motion. It travels 18.5 miles per second. That's 5,860,800 feet every minute. But her feet remain planted in the same spot. Stuck. She simply stares down, unable to take her eyes off of the words in front of her. Finn takes her hand and squeezes. She's glad he doesn't bother talking in this moment. There's nothing to say that could make this better. She hears her name being called and turns in that direction. Her mom and dad stand on the main path, waiting for her. They're giving her time, but staying close. She sees Kurt holding Dylan's hand a little ways behind them. They're all worried about her, she knows. She hasn't exactly handled this well.
Things had been going so well. She was happy. They were all happy. Sure, there were tough moments, a few rough patches, but overall things were good. Until they suddenly weren't. It all happened so fast and she just…..she can't…she didn't think….but she should have. And maybe that's what's been eating away at her the most. She should have known this was a possibility. She should have known he might not only drink, but drink heavily. She should have done something different. Answered the phone. Called him back. Something other than send a stupid text message. Maybe then….
Maybe then….
Her vision blurs as she places the flower on the fresh mound of dirt.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N: Sorry about the sudden high to low. But that's often how life works. Many tragedies happen suddenly. And sometimes, they happen one after the other in a relatively short time. It sucks, it's harsh, but it's realistic. I know from experience. I also know from experience that what matters most is how you handle those tragedies. I had friends say they'd be there for me, but when I reached for them, they suddenly vanished. Reading and writing became my escape, but those aren't everyone's cup of tea. Reach out. Some people may not live up to their promise to be there for you, but you'd be surprised how many people will. Even strangers. Worse comes to worse, call the suicide help line to talk to someone, get a therapist, or speak to your religious leader. Find a positive, healthy outlet. And please, do NOT copy the stupid actions/choices of characters in stories (mine and others) made up just for fun. They don't exist in real life. You do.
