Keep Me Where the Light Is (part 10)
No One here to guide you
Now you're on your own
Only me beside you
Still, you're not alone
No one is alone
Truly
No one is alone…
Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood
Others may deceive you
You decide what's good
You decide alone
But, no one is alone…
People make mistakes
Fathers, Mothers
People make mistakes,
Holding to their own
Thinking they're alone…
Honor their mistakes
That everybody makes
One another's terrible mistakes…
Witches can be right
Giants can be good
You decide what's right
You decide what's good
Just remember…
Someone is on your side
Someone else is not
While we're seeing our side
Maybe we forgot…
…Hard to see the light now
Just don't let it go
Things will come out right now
We can make it so….
(No One is Alone ~ sung by Bernadette Peters, written by S. Sondheim)
Tuesday, August 23, 2022
6:22 PM
Cate Boyd sat at an old, wooden desk inside her West Village apartment on Tuesday evening. Her long, thin fingers were perched over the keys of her laptop, ready to type the first sentence of a required brief for her family law clinic. She took a deep breath as her mind wandered back to the task at hand.
The 31-year-old, second year law student pulled the pencil from behind her right ear in order to make a roman numeral I on the yellow pad in front of her. Ok, Cate…time to get serious now, she internally redirected herself, stretching her aching shoulders by arching her back and shifting in her desk chair.
She did not even know the first sentence she should write or type so she thumbed through the pages in the blue file folder in front of her, reorienting herself with the Skinner v. Skinner matter she was assigned. She grimaced at the complexity of the divorce suit, her eyes skimming down the names of the three minor children, copying them to her notepad:
Minors:
Joseph age 10
Craig age 8
Beth age 5
Cate paused immediately at the last child's name. Beth. The attractive brunette looked down at her notepad, her pencil pausing mid-stroke, and she swallowed hard. Cate remembered many conversations with Quinn Fabray while they dated, regarding Quinn's daughter Beth, and Cate had helped Quinn come to terms with her decision to let her baby be adopted, feeling a special connection with Beth since she herself was adopted.
Looking up at her laptop, Cate opened her internet browser and typed Yale University Drama Department into the search engine, clicking on the link at the top of the list. She moved the curser to click on Staff, scrolling through the list until she saw Quinn Fabray, PhD.
Her heart started thumping in her chest so hard that she could feel the vibration of it move up the sides of her neck, and she looked over her shoulder toward the noise coming from the adjacent kitchen. Cate turned back to the computer, taking a deep breath as her hand hovered over her mouse before clicking the link to open Quinn's staff page.
A recent picture of the blonde professor instantly appeared at the top of the page, causing Cate's breath to catch in her chest. Her crystal blue eyes examined every familiar feature of the younger blonde's face, from her perfectly-proportional nose to her now longer hair and from her straight, white teeth to her perfectly-shaped lips.
Cate sat frozen, staring into the face of her lost love, acknowledging internally that she never got over their breakup. To this day, it still made no sense to her, but as hard as Cate tried over the past six years to push her feelings for Quinn away or bury them deeper inside her heart, she now realized fully that she had failed.
"Hey, honey…," Jess said from behind the older girl, leaning around the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen.
"Huh, what? Nothing…," Cate jumped in her chair and slammed her laptop shut, turning around quickly as though she'd been physically yanked back from her past.
"Umm…okay," Jess laughed slightly, a look of confusion on her pretty face, "I was just going to tell you dinner was ready."
"Oh," Cate forced a smile, her heart still pounding in her chest, "Great."
She stood and moved to the small table which was pushed into the corner of the living room. The older girl sat at the table as Jess put a plate of food in front of her then sat down across the table with her own plate.
Jess picked up her fork and knife immediately, cutting a bite off her chicken and put it in her mouth to chew.
"Mmm, this recipe of your mom's is delicious," the NYU junior stated enthusiastically, taking a bite of green beans next.
Cate picked up her fork, pulling her napkin from underneath it and lowering it to her lap, still trying to steady her nerves as her girlfriend chatted.
"I hope the beans aren't too crisp for you," Jess noted, "I tried to sauté them a little longer this time."
Cate looked down at her plate of food. Her first thought was that Jess was a pretty good cook and the food looked appetizing. Her second thought though was that Quinn Fabray was not. The second thought made her smile to herself.
Cate remembered eating plenty of burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and rubbery scrambled eggs, but she also fondly remembered not minding at all. She was just happy to sit across the table and stare into Quinn's beautiful green eyes.
"What's funny?" Jess stopped mid-bite to ask.
Cate shook those thoughts from her head before she looked up and said, "What?"
"You laughed…what's funny?"
"I did?" Cate's brows furrowed.
"Where are you lately, Catie?" Jess asked, setting her fork down on her plate.
"What do you mean?"
"For the last week or so…you've been so distant," the young girl's thick, light-brown hair fell off her shoulders as she spoke, "Is it just with this clinic you're doing or…is there something wrong?"
Cate paused. She couldn't tell her girlfriend that her head had been consumed with thoughts of her ex recently. Cate's pulse quickened as silence hung in the air, and she finally replied, "Yeah, it's just this damn clinic. I don't like these complicated divorce cases. I feel so bad for the kids who are caught in the middle."
Jess reached across the small table to put her hand on Cate's arm, "I know it's not easy, but you're so good with the kids. They're fortunate to have someone like you to connect with."
Cate nodded and looked down at Jess' hand as she caressed the older girl's arm. Cate bit at her lower lip, scolding herself for starting to internally compare how Jess made her feel against how Quinn always made her feel.
"Thanks," Cate told her girlfriend then picked up her fork and took a bite of mashed potatoes.
Thursday, August 25, 2022
7:06 PM
Santana handed some cash to her cab's driver before she opened the back door and stepped out onto the NYC sidewalk Thursday night. She felt guilty taking a cab to dinner with the budget she and Brittany were on currently, but she had been feeling sort of achy all day and did not want to deal with the subway system. Plus, she was meeting up with her mother who came to town to see her, and she did not want to be late this evening.
The dark-haired beauty shut the cab door behind her and straightened her knee-length skirt then moved toward the entrance of the restaurant, opening the door and stepping into its lobby. According to the text she'd received ten minutes earlier, she knew to look toward the side bar area for her mother.
"Can I help you?" the hostess asked as Santana glanced into a nearby mirror, checking her make-up and long hair which was pulled back into a clip.
"I'm meeting someone, thank you," she responded, leaning slightly to scan the interior of the bar, seeing only the back of an older gentleman who was seated at the long, wooden counter.
"No problem," the hostess smiled pleasantly.
A voice from behind the young Latina said, "Santana?"
She turned and smiled widely at an older brunette, "Mom!"
"Hey, sweetheart," Mrs. Lopez walked up to her daughter and squeezed her tightly, "You look more beautiful than ever tonight."
"So do you," Santana beamed at the shorter woman, "That red looks great on you."
"Thank you. I got this dress for my birthday," her mom said, adjusting her chunky, black necklace.
"I'm glad for a chance to see you…Happy belated Birthday," the young brunette said.
"Only two days late," her mother dismissed sweetly, not wanting Santana to feel bad and adding, "I've missed you so much. I was disappointed when you didn't come home this past Thanksgiving or Christmas."
"I know," Santana frowned, still feeling slightly guilty about it, "There was just no way I could get time away from the show then."
"Do you miss it now?" her mother asked, knowing it was a hard decision for her daughter to leave her off-Broadway role.
"Of course," Santana nodded then put her hands over her lower abdomen, "But this is the best role I could have landed."
"Absolutely!" Maribel Lopez laughed and patted Santana's small bump, joy filling her aging face, "Look at you…you're showing too!"
"I know! Crazy, isn't it?" Santana laughed along with the older Latina, "There really is a baby inside me."
"I can't believe my baby is having a baby now," Mrs. Lopez reached up and caressed Santana's cheek, "I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you too, Mom," Santana felt pure happiness in sharing this moment with her mother.
"Congratulations, Santana," a deep voice said from the bar's archway.
The young Latina turned toward the sound of her name, her smile vanishing at the sight of her father.
"You look lovely," Hector Lopez complimented his daughter, moving closer to her and his wife. He leaned toward Santana and put one of his long arms around her small frame, hugging her awkwardly, adding, "It's good to see you again."
"Thank you," Santana responded softly, immediately uncomfortable in his presence.
She looked again at her mother whose smile turned tense as well.
"Are you ready to be seated?" the hostess asked the trio.
"I'm ready…are you?" Dr. Lopez responded.
Santana timidly nodded and forced a small smile.
"Right this way then," the young girl gathered three menus and put a mark by a table on her layout grid, turning to lead the Lopez family to a table.
Hector followed immediately, but Santana pulled on Maribel's arm, holding her mother back, asking her, "Why is he here?"
"He wanted to come see you, Santana," Mrs. Lopez insisted, "He's excited for his grandchild."
"He wasn't excited enough to be there the day I married his grandchild's other mother," Santana retorted.
Maribel sighed heavily, "Give him a chance, Santana…please?"
Santana gulped down some air and followed silently behind her mother to be seated at the table with her father.
As her parents looked at their menus, Santana's mind was spinning, and she leaned into a sudden cramp, the inside of her stomach twisting. She wanted Brittany so much, but at the same time, she was unsure if Brittany's presence would make the evening better or worse for her.
After they ordered, her father turned to her and asked, "So how have things been going for you?"
Santana fidgeted with the cloth napkin in her lap, hearing her father's question but quickly analyzing it for what specifically he was asking. She was surprised that after eleven years, the sound of his voice still made her feel so small.
"Santana?" Hector prodded.
She looked up at the large man, "Fine, thank you."
"Do you like your doctor?" Maribel asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Yes, she's very nice," Santana answered her mother, "She's made us feel a lot better about some of my health issues."
"Health issues?" Dr. Lopez sounded confused.
Santana looked over at her mother who knew the details of her daughter's physical scars left from the rape.
"Nothing that affects the baby, I hope?" Hector pushed.
"Nothing so far," Santana responded, swallowing to force moisture into her dry mouth then reaching for her water glass.
"Good," he smiled toward his wife, adding proudly, "We want a strong addition to the Lopez name. Right, Maribel?"
"We only want a healthy child," Mrs. Lopez clarified as she patted Santana's forearm encouragingly, "Ten fingers and ten toes."
"Which hospital will you be using?" Dr. Lopez asked, having done his residency in Manhattan before moving his young family to Lima, Ohio.
"Lopez-Pierce," Santana said softly, looking down at her lap.
"What?" Hector's uncertainty paused the conversation.
"Lopez-Pierce. I am legally married. My last name is Lopez-Pierce," Santana specified with insistence, "Our baby will be equally a Pierce."
"Okay," Hector picked up his glass of water for a drink.
Mrs. Lopez shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearing her throat and asking, "How is Brittany?"
"She's good…very good. She's excited about her new show," Santana reported, her tone softening on the topic of her wife, "And about becoming a mother."
"I'm sure she is," Maribel smiled at her daughter as the waiter brought salads for Mr. and Mrs. Lopez and a cup of soup for Santana.
"She's wonderful in it," Santana continued, "She can get us tickets for tomorrow if you'd like to see it."
"Do you have any first names picked out yet?" Dr. Lopez tried to further the conversation as he ate his salad.
"I don't want to talk about my baby with you," Santana responded before she realized the words inside her head were said aloud.
Mr. and Mrs. Lopez both stopped mid-bite.
"Santana," Maribel cautioned.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I know we're celebrating your birthday, but…," Santana looked down and paused, telling herself internally that she had the right to feel the way she did, "…I don't want him here."
"Santana," her mother tried again, her dark eyes pleading with her daughter to be civil.
"No," the young Latina said firmly, looking over at Hector, "How dare you make me feel like garbage for years then show back up to play grandfather."
"This was a bad idea," Maribel stated, her voice shaking, "I realize that now."
Santana never took her eyes off her father, accusing him, "You have not even said my wife's name tonight. You have not asked about her. You have not asked about us. Not even once."
Hector shifted in his seat and pulled at the collar of his shirt.
The young Latina continued, "You only want to talk about what you are comfortable talking about. I don't even know why you came to New York."
"I am here to see my daughter," Hector said softly, his eyes downcast.
"You don't have a daughter, and you won't have a grandchild," Santana stated boldly, years of hurt coming to the surface as her emotions overtook her, "Mine and Brittany's baby already has three loving grandfathers…you're not included in our family."
Santana stood quickly, hot tears in her eyes, laying her napkin on the table beside her bowl, her voice cracking as she told her mother, "I'm very sorry to ruin your dinner, Mom."
Maribel Lopez started to stop her daughter's exit, her heart hurting at the unintended confrontation that occurred, but instead, she closed her eyes and let Santana leave.
11:33 PM
Brittany stepped off the subway as soon as the doors slid open, pushing around the people moving toward the exit turnstiles. "Excuse me, sorry…excuse me," she said as she stepped around or in front of each one of them, scanning her subway card to exit.
She ran up the stairs as quickly as her tired muscles would allow, appreciating the night, August breeze once she was on street level. Checking her phone for any new texts from Santana, Brittany made her way down a side street, crossing over Bleeker and heading toward her apartment building.
With the last bit of energy she had reserved, Brittany walked up five flights of stairs and knocked on apartment #5C.
The door opened quickly, and Grayson Knox said, "Hey."
"Hi…I got here as quickly as I could," Brittany told him, clearly out of breath.
"She's still here," Grayson opened the door all the way so Brittany could step inside. The blonde dancer moved toward the couch in the living room, seeing her wife sleeping under a lightweight blanket.
"She fell asleep about thirty minutes ago."
"Did she say anything to you about what happened?" Brittany inquired.
"She didn't really want to talk…," Grayson grimaced, remembering how upset Santana was when he opened the door earlier in the evening, "…she was mostly just shaken up at seeing him again."
"Yeah, her father isn't the first ghost to pop up from her past recently." Brittany's blue eyes glossed over with emotion, hating that she wasn't there for her beloved when she needed protection or comfort, even though she rushed home after the show as soon as she saw Santana's texts.
"Well, I got her to eat some dinner with me then we watched a movie until she fell asleep."
"Thank you, Grayson," Brittany slipped an arm around her neighbor's waist, hugging him and saying, "You're a good friend."
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more, but I think she just didn't want to be alone."
Brittany went around to the front of the couch and kneeled down beside Santana, gently rubbing her back and kissing her softly on the cheek, "Hey, honey…wake up."
Santana's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled once her eyes adjusted and she saw Brittany next to her.
"Hi," Brittany returned the smile.
The Latina sat up and wrapped her arms around her wife's neck, breaking into a soft cry as Brittany held her.
Friday, August 26, 2022
10:27 PM
Quinn Fabray stood at the back of the room Friday night, watching her Cabaret troupe as they took their final bows to loud, approving applause.
She clapped along with the rest of the audience, a huge smile across her attractive face.
"They are quiet impressive," a female voice said near her, "You're Quinn Fabray?"
"Thank you…and yes," the blonde professor acknowledged the older woman, "I am Quinn."
"Ellen Gardner," the short, stocky woman stuck her hand out which held a white business card, "Soho Playhouse."
"You've come a long way for tonight's performance," Quinn smiled and took the card, seeing that it listed the woman's title as Theatre Director.
"I'll go anywhere to sample good theatre."
"I'll take that as a compliment then," Quinn replied, feeling proud of her students' performances and the play she personally had written.
As the house lights came back up and the audience began to disperse from the Cabaret basement, the two women stepped aside toward the far corner.
"You should…you have a lot of talent," Ellen complimented further, "Both as a playwright and as a director."
The young professor felt a blush cross her cheeks, and she looked down at her feet, "Well, I have a wonderful group of students who are filled with enthusiasm and talent."
"You underestimate yourself," the woman was clearly not one to mince words. There was a confident, almost forceful, edge to each one she uttered, "You're young, but I've heard great things about you and what you've done with this program."
"Thank you," Quinn accepted the praise this time.
"So here's the deal…I need an assistant director."
Quinn did a double take, "And you're here tonight to offer me the position?"
"Not yet…," Ellen specified with a pleased smirk, "…but I'm here to offer you an interview for the position."
The clarification made Quinn chuckle quietly to herself.
"Think about it…a move to an off-Broadway theatre is an eventual springboard to Broadway."
"What makes you so sure I want to be on Broadway," Quinn folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at the aging theatre director.
"Because, my dear…we all want to be on Broadway," Ellen retorted, "Don't even try to deny it."
Quinn's phone buzzed in her pants pocket, and she reached in to pull it out, not recognizing the number. "Excuse me," she told Ellen, "Let me take this…business related."
"No problem…call the number on the card and ask for me," Ellen Gardner said, pointing back at the young blonde as she backed toward the exit, "Soon though…this offer won't last long, Quinn Fabray."
Quinn watched the woman leave as she unlocked her cell, answering, "Hello?"
There was only silence at the other end.
"Hello?" Quinn repeated. She paused a second, and the person on the other end took a hesitant breath but did not say anything. She said again, "Hello?"
Quinn listened for a response, hearing a car horn honk in the distance then the line went dead.
"That was weird," Quinn said aloud to herself, locking her phone screen and sliding the cell back into her pants pocket.
"Hey, Quinn? Kitchen's cleaned. Need anything else before we go?" Chloe Sullivan asked.
The Yale professor looked down at her watch, seeing that it was 11:07 pm, then looked back up at her student, telling Chloe and the brunette standing next to her, "No, that's fine…you and Tessa go on. I'll lock up."
"Ok, goodnight, Quinn," Tessa Anderson smiled sweetly, wiping her hands on a white towel and turning back toward the small kitchen area.
"Goodnight, girls," Quinn waived at them, "See you tomorrow night."
The beautiful blonde heard the exit door shut then her cell phone buzzed again, startling her.
She pulled it out and said abruptly, "What do you want?"
"Quinn?" a shaky voice said on the other end.
"Santana?"
"Quinn, I…I…don't know what to do," the Latina told her best friend.
"Did you just call?"
"When?"
"Just now…a few minutes ago?" Quinn specified.
"No…but, I'm scared," Santana's voice trembled.
"Why? What's wrong?" Quinn sensed panic in Santana's tone.
"I'm bleeding."
11:46 PM
Brittany turned the knob on the front door of her apartment as she came home from Friday night's performance, finding all the lights off inside. She entered quietly, easing the door shut behind her and setting her duffle bag down on the floor. She then patted blindly along the wall between the door and the kitchen cabinets to hang her keys on the hook, not wanting to turn on the light and wake Santana.
As her eyes adjusted slightly in the dim moonlight, she padded softly across the wood floor toward the bed in the far corner, thinking she'd find her wife sleeping peacefully, but their bed was empty when she reached it.
Brittany turned toward the bathroom, seeing that the door was open and the light was off.
"Santana?" the blonde called out in a hushed volume, looking toward the couch.
"Over here," a soft voice said from behind Brittany.
She turned around, finding a silhouette of the Latina who was sitting at the kitchen table with her legs pulled up in front of her in one of its two chairs.
"Why didn't you say anything when I came in?" Brittany asked out of confusion.
"Sorry," Santana said with no inflection in her voice.
Brittany stepped toward her and inquired, "Are you feeling nauseous?"
"No," Santana said flatly.
"Heartburn?" Brittany ventured another guess.
"No."
The blonde pulled the other chair around the table beside her wife and sat down. She rubbed Santana's lower leg reassuringly, asking, "Is everything ok?"
There was a pause before the Latina answered, "Yeah."
Brittany heard Santana's voice crack that time. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and lit the screen so she could see the brunette more plainly in its artificial glow, asking, "Are you crying?"
The blonde dancer heard Santana sniff then slowly blow out a breath of air as the light from the phone went dark again.
"Sorry," Santana answered.
"Don't apologize, hon," Brittany reassured her, "Why are you upset? Did you talk to your father again?"
Santana didn't say anything further but leaned over onto Brittany and broke into a sob.
"Tan, what's wrong?" Brittany wrapped her arms around her wife as her shoulders shook, prodding, "What's going on?"
"I've been bleeding," she replied, her voice shaky.
"Bleeding?" Brittany felt her chest tighten with immediate fear, "What do you mean? Is it a lot?"
"More than just a little," Santana described, "I'm waiting for the doctor to call me back."
Brittany didn't respond, tightening her hold on Santana while different scenarios flashed inside her head. The intense silence was finally broken when Santana's phone rang loudly.
Both girls quickly reached for it. Brittany picked it up first but saw that the screen said QUINN (cell).
"It's Quinn," the blonde told her wife.
"I called her first," Santana explained, unlocking her phone and putting it to her ear, answering, "Hey, I haven't heard back from the doctor yet."
There was a pause on Santana's end, before Brittany heard the brunette tell her best friend, "Yeah, she's home now."
Santana handed the phone to Brittany, stating, "She wants to talk to you."
"Hey, Q," Brittany said into the phone.
"Britt, listen…don't panic and don't let her panic," Quinn Fabray said calmly on the other end, "Spotting is very common during early pregnancy, ok?"
"Uhuh," Brittany tried to say in an even tone.
"Brittany?" Quinn knew her friend well, "Everything will be fine."
"Okay. Here's Santana," Brittany responded, looking over at the Latina in the darkness and rubbing her hand along the curve of her back to comfort her, handing back the phone.
"Thanks for checking on me, Q," Santana told her.
"Are you still bleeding?" Quinn asked.
"It was less the last time I looked," Santana answered.
"That's good," Quinn said reassuringly, "Just stay calm and call me back once you talk to her."
"I will," the brunette told her.
Quinn breathed heavily into the phone, her feelings betraying her resolve, "I love both."
"We love you too," Santana responded with a slight smile toward Brittany, ending the call and setting the phone back on top of the table.
"Can I get you anything?" Brittany asked.
"No," Santana said more harshly than she intended, catching herself and reaching forward to grasp her wife's hand, "I'm sorry, babe."
"Should you lie down?" Brittany suggested, squeezing her long fingers around Santana's hand.
Before she could answer, her phone rang again, startling them and causing them both to jump. Santana grabbed it and answered, "Hello?"
"Santana?"
"Yes," the brunette confirmed.
"This is Dr. Yates…my service gave me your message. You've experienced some recent bleeding?"
"Yes, tonight," she replied, "I didn't know what to do so I called."
"You did the right thing," the doctor told her, "Is the bleeding heavy?"
"Not that much, no."
"Has it been for very long?"
Santana thought back to when she first went to the bathroom and saw the blood, responding, "A couple of hours, I think."
"Are you having any cramping?" Dr. Yates asked.
Brittany watched her wife bite at her lower lip while she answered into the phone, "Earlier I was but not right now."
"I know that seeing blood is instantly scary, but I want to reassure you that this happens in most pregnancies at some point. Bleeding doesn't automatically indicate that something is wrong with the fetus," Dr. Yates explained confidently, "I'm going to have you come to the office first thing in the morning, and we'll do an ultrasound to rule out any concerns, ok?"
"Ok," Santana stated, thankful for the doctor's optimism.
"If anything changes during the night or you start cramping more…just go straight to the ER and have them call me," Dr. Yates instructed.
"Ok."
"Try to relax and get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning," the doctor added sweetly.
"Thank you, Doctor," Santana said before she hung up.
Brittany waited for Santana to tell her what they should do next, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
"We wait," the Latina stated bluntly, "She wants to do an ultrasound in the morning."
Brittany nodded and pulled Santana back toward her, squeezing her tightly and thinking that this would be the longest night of their lives.
Saturday, August 27, 2022
3:09 AM
Brittany woke suddenly in the early hours of Saturday morning, her arm still draped over Santana's firm body as they lay on their sides in the bed. The blonde lifted her head to look at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing it was shortly after 3 AM.
She did not want to disturb Santana who was finally in a deep sleep, but she really needed to pee so she eased herself carefully over her wife and stepped softly into the bathroom. After shutting the door behind her, Brittany flipped on the interior light then turned to pull down her cotton pajama shorts and sit on the toilet.
Exhaustion had overtaken her physically, mentally, and emotionally the last couple of nights, her mind having a hard time shutting off from her persistent state of worry. She yawned and rubbed her stinging eyes as she peed, looking down to see the bottom of her white tank covered in bright red.
The sight startled her body quicker than her brain could process what she was seeing. She wiped quickly with the paper in her hand, checking to see if she had started her period even though, in the back of her mind, she knew it was two weeks too early for that.
She stood, pulling up her underwear and shorts, seeing more blood on the front portion of her shorts and down the pale skin of her legs. Panicked she opened the bathroom door, the artificial light shining onto Santana who still lay on the outer section of their bed.
Brittany quickly turned on the bedside lamp and slid her arm between Santana and the sheet, pulling back out to find her hand covered in fresh blood.
"Oh god," Brittany shook her wife, "Tan, wake up!"
The Latina stirred slightly, asking groggily, "What?"
"Get up, honey," Brittany tried to stay calm, but she knew she was failing miserably, telling Santana, "Come on…sit up please."
She slid Santana's legs over the side of the bed as the brunette sat up, revealing a pool of blood on the light-colored sheets.
"Santana," Brittany's voice caught in her throat, "You're bleeding again."
Santana looked over her left shoulder to find the bright red on the sheets then she looked down at her slender legs, seeing streaks of blood running down them. She stood up to walk into the bathroom and felt a gush of more blood, lowering herself to the tile of the bathroom floor and crying out, "Brittany!"
Brittany went into automatic response mode, picking up her cell phone from the nightstand and dialing 911, knowing they had no other way to get to the hospital.
"Just stay still, honey…you'll be okay," she moved to the doorway of the bathroom as she listened to the phone line ring, leaning down to kiss the top of Santana's head, stammering, "everything…everything will be okay."
As she waited for the standard 911 operator "what is your emergency?" greeting, the blonde moved toward the front door of the apartment, unlocking the deadbolts and stepping out into the hallway. Brittany dashed down the flight of stairs to the fifth floor as she answered the operator's series of questions, telling the woman on the other side of the call that her wife was thirteen weeks pregnant and woke up bleeding.
"Yes, it's a lot of blood. It's everywhere," Brittany responded.
"Where is your wife now?"
"She's in our bathroom," Brittany answered, pounding on Grayson's front door as she repeated the address of their apartment building, "Please hurry."
"Stay calm, ma'am…an emergency response team has already been dispatched. Someone will be there in a few minutes," the woman advised, "Stay on the line with me until they arrive."
Brittany pounded again on the door with her fist, "Grayson!"
She repeated internally, please be home, please be home, please be home.
Seconds later, the hall light over apartment #5C came on, and the door opened. Grayson stood there in pajama pants and no shirt, looking freshly-woken from sleep.
"Brittany?"
"Santana…is um," Brittany tripped over her words, having trouble pushing air through her lungs, "She's…um…."
Grayson could see the phone in Brittany's hand and the blood on her clothes, "Slow down...tell me what's happening."
"It's the baby," Brittany finally broke, tears falling down her face.
Grayson took a calming breath, hugging her with one arm and taking the phone with his other hand, "Hello?"
"Yes? This is 911," the operator re-identified herself.
"I'm their neighbor…I'll wait outside the building for the paramedics," Grayson offered, confirming the nearest cross-streets in order to locate them quickly. He grabbed his house keys off the table near the front door, closing it behind him. As he started down the stairs, he said, "Brittany, go back up to Santana. She needs you with her."
4:31 AM
Brittany Lopez-Pierce sat in the main ER waiting area, biting her fingernails and staring off into space. She barely had time to go back upstairs and pull on a pair of black sweat pants and step into a pair of flip-flops before the ambulance arrived. She'd even walked out without her wallet when she followed behind the paramedics who lowered Santana on a stretcher down the six flights of stairs.
After riding with them to the hospital, she was told to wait out in the lobby once the nurses took over Santana's care. Thankfully, she still had her phone with her, so she was able to call her mom as soon as she had a moment to think.
Brittany had a hard time recounting the chaos of the last few hours to her mom, her emotions finally overpowering her need to stay calm for Santana. Meghan Pierce did her best to comfort her daughter from Ohio, trying to reassure her by recalling that she too had some bleeding when she carried Emily.
Before ending the phone call, Brittany made her mom promise not to tell Daniel and Trey Berry until she knew more information.
The young blonde felt a soft tap on her exposed shoulder and heard a voice say, "Ms. Lopez-Pierce?"
Brittany looked up to see a dark-skinned woman in light blue scrubs. "Yes?"
"Dr. Yates is here now, and they're running tests," the nurse informed her, "Is there anything we can get for you?"
Brittany looked down at her white tank with a large bloodstain on it, requesting, "Do you have anything I could change into? I don't want my wife to see this."
"Sure," the nurse smiled sympathetically, "We have some donated clothes behind the nurses' station. Let me see what I can find for you."
"Thank you," Brittany replied, fighting back tears.
"I'll be right back," the woman squeezed the blonde's shoulder.
Brittany looked around the half-full waiting area, seeing Grayson returning from the restroom.
"Here," he said, handing her one of the two small cups in his hand, "I couldn't find coffee, but I had enough coins for one soda out of the vending machine. I thought we could split it."
"Thanks," Brittany said, grateful for anything wet to soothe her scratchy throat. She took a sip then another, the sugar giving her body a much-needed boost of energy.
Grayson drank from his cup as he watched his friend chew nervously on her thumb, her right leg shaking up and down while she fidgeted silently in the seat across from him. He did not know what to say to her at this point, so he said nothing.
The two of them sat there for several minutes until Maribel and Hector Lopez suddenly appeared.
"Brittany," Maribel walked over to the blonde and sat down beside her, putting her arms around her.
"My mom called you, didn't she?"
"She didn't want you to be alone while you waited," Mrs. Lopez replied, "Have you heard anything at all?"
"Her doctor is examining her…that's all I know," Brittany said, leaning her head over onto her mother-in-law's shoulder.
"Hector?" his wife looked up at the tall doctor.
"Let me see what I can find out," Santana's father told them, a somber look on his face.
After he walked away, Brittany felt like she should tell them that she didn't want him there, but she was just too despondent to care. It wasn't but a minute more before the nurse returned with a white t-shirt that was sealed in a clear plastic bag.
"Here you go," she handed it to Brittany, "Large is the smallest we had left."
"Thanks," Brittany accepted the t-shirt with a forced smile to be polite.
"The restrooms are down that hallway whenever you want to change," the nurse said, "We'll let you know when you can see her."
They all nodded as she walked away.
Maribel looked at Brittany's stained shirt, and her heart sank, remembering when she miscarried her son though she was further along than Santana was now. "Why don't you go ahead and change, sweetheart," Mrs. Lopez suggested, "So you'll be ready when they take you back there."
"Ok," Brittany agreed obediently, having a hard time forming a thought on her own. She stood and handed her cup to Grayson then went around the corner, following the signs that pointed toward the restrooms.
Once inside, she went into the end stall, peeing first then taking the t-shirt out of its wrapper. She unfolded it, seeing there was a large advertisement on its back for a nearby Church of God with their address, telephone number, and the phrase Whenever you're lost…the Light of God will guide you home.
It was the first thing all night that struck her as being sort of funny. Not in a humorous fashion, but in an ironically, self-righteous fashion, causing Brittany to roll her eyes and chuckle to herself.
The blonde sighed, removing her tank and pulling the t-shirt over her head. She put the stained shirt inside the plastic and opened the stall door to throw it away in the trash bin.
When Brittany saw her reflection in the large mirror above the sink, she chuckled again at just how big the shirt was on her trim body. She also noticed how weary she appeared, examining her face as she washed her hands, scrubbing at them with extra soap on a paper towel to remove some of the maroon streaks of dried blood from her pale skin and fingernails. That will have to do, I guess, she thought as she threw away the towel and opened the door.
As Brittany rounded the corner, heading back to the lobby, she saw Dr. Yates standing with Santana's parents. She quickened her stride, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Hi, Brittany," Dr. Yates smiled as she walked up to them which the blonde took as a good sign.
"How's Santana?" she asked immediately, looking nervously from Dr. Yates over to Grayson then back toward Mrs. and Mr. Lopez.
"She's resting. The bleeding has stopped, but I'm going to admit her for observation," Dr. Yates advised.
"Okay…," Brittany swallowed hard before asking, "…and the baby?"
"I'm so sorry, Brittany," Dr. Yates replied sympathetically, "There's no heartbeat."
Brittany stood frozen for a moment, not registering any particular emotion, as Dr. Yate's words hung in the air. She felt the doctor pat her shoulder and say something about "visitors" and "soon" before she walked away. She sensed motion around her as she saw Mrs. Lopez sit on a nearby chair, wiping at her face with a white tissue.
"Do you want to sit down?" Grayson asked cautiously, but Brittany shook her head no.
"I'm sorry, Brittany," Hector Lopez said, reaching out to put his arm around her in an attempt to comfort his daughter-in-law.
She tilted her head to look up at him, tears filling her blue eyes and her voice shaking as she told him, "I hate you. I hate that I have to share this moment with you."
Brittany took three steps forward and collapsed into Grayson's arms, crying uncontrollably.
Author's Note: I am truly sorry to each of you who hoped this wouldn't happen. This chapter affected me deeply as I wrote it, but please trust me. Life is a journey, and the best parts don't always happen at the exact moment we want them.
If you have something you want to say to me then please leave a review or send me a private message. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me. Kim