"That's a really long line," Benji noted. "We should just come back tomorrow," he added after glancing at the time.

"No, we're here now," Beca said in response. "You're taking a picture with Santa."

Benji never celebrated Christmas. Having grown up in a very Jewish community with not that many friends who weren't Jewish, he never got to do Christmasy stuff as a child. Stuff like having your picture taken with Santa Claus at the mall. Lucky for him, he had a friend like Beca who would drag him to the mall so he would pose with Santa. And, a friend like Fat Amy who could do the physical dragging if needed.

"He has a point, Beca. It's like they're in line to get their butts signed by the wiggles."

"Why the wiggles?" Beca questioned in confusion.

"I have an idea," Fat Amy said before she left Benji and Beca. "Don't move."

"Please don't break the law," Beca called after her in a considerably low voice.

When she came back, Fat Amy had a Santa Claus costume on, beard and all.

"You better watch out. You better not cry. You better not pout, I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town," she sang as she made her way to them, gaining more attention than what her outfit already brought.

"How much did this costume cost you?" Beca suspiciously asked.

She knew her friend: she wouldn't put money into such thing solely for Benji's sake.

"Doesn't matter, Beca. What matters is getting an awkward smile on Benji's face." She threw her arm around Beca's shoulder who narrowed her eyes.

"You stole it, didn't you?" she asked, shrugging Fat Amy's arm off.

"No!" Fat Amy denied. "Now, let's take this picture." She sat down and pulled Benji on her lap, almost cradling him like a baby.

Beca pulled her Polaroid camera from her backpack and took a photo of Benji smiling awkwardly at the camera while Fat Amy grinned.

Beca smiled a little eyeing the photo. It was cute. "Go return the outfit from where you stole it," she deadpanned, glaring disapprovingly at Fat Amy.

"I borrowed it," Fat Amy corrected, standing up. "And, stop looking at me like that." She poked Beca in the shoulder. "You've done some shoplifting yourself."

"A pack of gum and a freaking Santa Claus costume belong to different leagues, Amy. Besides, I only did it once because you dared me…"

Fat Amy gave her a look that said 'really?'

"Whatever. We're not getting into this. Go return it before they find out. I will go point them your way if you don't."

"You wouldn't dare snitch on me. Snitches get stitches," Fat Amy said, mockingly threatening her best friend.

"Oh yeah?" Beca tried to keep her expression blank and hide any amusement from her voice.

"Oh, yeah," Fat Amy nodded before a wide grin broke, unable to go on any longer with the act.

"I can't return this anymore," she said, causing Beca to frown.

"See, I bent to tie my shoelaces and it kind of tore." She grimaced before she turned around to show Beca the tear that was right on her butt crack. "But don't worry I paid for it with your credit card. It's not stolen." She whipped Beca's credit card from her pocket and slipped into the pocket of Beca's coat.

"This better not be expensive. And, why you have my credit card?" she grumbled. "How did you get it in the first place?"

"Look at that smile. You can't put a price on that," Fat Amy spoke, taking the photo from Beca's hand, ignoring all of what Beca said.

"Hey you," she said next to the first strange she laid eyes on. "Mind taking a picture for us?" She snatched Beca's camera from her hand and handing it to the stranger before he could say anything.

She then pulled both Benji and Beca to her sides and grinned for the camera.

"Thank you, stranger." Fat Amy took the camera and photo as well, sighing as she eyed it.

Beca looked exactly like she did in her photo with mall Santa from when she was ten; annoyed.

Benji sported the same awkward smile, showing more teeth this time.

Fat Amy looked thrilled in her Santa costume.

"Come on, we should head home," Beca murmured, shoving her camera into her backpack.

Things weren't as awkward as she expected them to be at home—she might have set the bar really low—her family was genuinely having a good time.

Having Benji and Fat Amy around helped a ton. There was never a room for awkward silence. Fat Amy was quite talkative and Benji's anxiety made him one hell of a ranting machine.

They got home a little after four pm. Fat Amy went straight the kitchen to snack while Benji stayed outside to help Dr. Mitchell shovel the snow from the lawn.

Beca figured she'd take a nap. Climbing the stairs, she unzipped her coat as loosened her scarf. She was beyond tired and truly believed she deserved the nap. She was in the corridor when she overheard her mother on the phone. She wasn't going to eavesdrop but when she heard her own name pop in the conversation her curiosity got the best of her.

The door was ajar, she watched her mother walk around the room while on the phone. "No, it's not that. I'm going to tell her. I can't not tell her," she was saying as she rubbed her temple. "Sooner or later, Beca has to know."

Beca figured making her presence known and asking her mother about whatever it was she had to know.

With her hand on the knob, Beca knocked on the door before she pushed it open.

"I'll talk to you later," Eliza sighed, her head tilted in the direction of the door. "Yup!" she said in response to whatever the other person on the line said before she hung up the phone. "Hey, Bec," the mother greeted her daughter, a small smile on her lips. "Did you want something?" Eliza mumbled, running her fingers through her hair while she tossed her phone on the bed.

"I thought I heard my name," she said instead of cutting right to the chase. "Did you call me?"

"No," Eliza replied.

Beca nodded, taking in her mother's reaction: a perfect poker face—yep, she got it from her mama.

"Your grandmother said you went to the mall, how was it?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Crowded," Beca curtly answered. "I'm gonna go take a nap. I'll see around," she added, stepping out of the room.

Her mother clearly didn't want to tell her whatever it was she had to know and she was too tired to look into it.

After a power nap, Beca laid in bed for some time. She thought about the one-sided conversation she had overheard. She had no clue what it could be. She ruled out an engagement since her mother wasn't dating anyone. The only other possibility she could think of sucked.

Even since she got here, Eliza seemed a little too tired: she claimed it was jetlag: given what she overhead, Beca was afraid it wasn't the case.

She hoped her mother wasn't sick because despite their rocky relationship she cared about her wellbeing.

When her phone chimed with a text, she grabbed it and smiled a little seeing that it was Jesse—she really should stop doing that.

The attachment made her smile even harder; a mirror selfie where Jesse wore a custom-made sweater with his cat's face printed on it.

'Congratulations, you're officially a cat lady,' she texted him.

'I'm honored,' his reply came fast. 'Tell me what color do you want yours? I was gonna order one for you when I ordered mine but I figured I should check if they're good first. And they are. So, yeah, what will it be?'

'I like your cat alright but not to the point where I'd wear a sweater with him on it.'

'You love OUR cat. You found him, Beca. I have custody of our boy but he's OUR boy.' She rolled her eyes reading his text. 'I'm thinking grey for the sweater?'

'Yeah, grey will do.'

Who was she kidding saying no? He was going to get her the sweater might as well have a say in the color.

'I gave Amber your cell phone number so that you could discuss when you're picking her and Teresa up and all. Don't agree to split gas money. It's on me. All of it.'

The smile she was had dropped reading the text. She tried to ignore how the mention of Amber made her feel but it was hard.

'Dude. I'm driving back to Barden with or without them. You don't have to pay for anything neither does she.'

'You're picking them up from Ohio and you have an irrational hatred towards Ohio. The least I can do is pay for gas.'

When Jesse asked if she could pick Amber and her daughter Teresa from Ohio, she didn't think too hard about it before she agreed. Jesse was her friend and she'd do anything, within reason of course, for him.

She, however, got confused at first because if her memory served her right Amber lived in Idaho. Jesse went on to tell her that Amber was spending Christmas at her sister's in Ohio.

He also explained to her that the mother and daughter were tight on money and a long bus ride from Idaho to Ohio was enough to endure.

Things were moving too fast in Beca's opinion, it didn't feel like too long ago when Jesse told her that the slides she helped make worked and that Amber was moving to Barden.

She didn't expect Amber and her daughter to move within a few weeks.

'It's not irrational. I can go on for hours to explain how rational it is but let's not get into that now.'

'Fine, weirdo. I'll talk to you later, Iris is calling me.' He was spending Christmas with his brother's family.

'Crying doesn't equal calling, dork.' Sending out the text, she tossed her phone aside and stretched. She looked at the door hearing a knock. "Come on in."

Dr. Mitchell stepped into the room. "Oh good, you're up."

"I came to wake you up so you could eat later," he explained as she pushed herself into a sitting a position. "Are you coming down?" he asked next.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

"Very well then." He nodded curtly, letting himself out of the room.

She got up, stretching yet again before she stood in front of the mirror to check how she looked: the lack of makeup before she went to bed served her well: she looked okay, her hair was a bit of a mess and calming it down didn't require much effort.

"You're still under twenty-one," Dr. Mitchell said, taking the glass wine from Beca's hand causing her to roll her eyes before she tilted her head to look at her grandmother silently asking for help.

Ella shook her head meeting her granddaughter's gaze. "Oh, for love of God, James," she sighed. "She's twenty."

"But—"

"—No, buts," she firmly said. "I let you have a beer with dinner when you were younger than Beca," she reminded him. "Leave her alone."

Dr. Mitchell tilted his head to look at Eliza expecting her to have something to say.

"Different drinking age back home," she said with a shrug.

Beca found it funny that her parents were acting like parents when they barely did any parenting her entire life. She, however, figured it would be best if she didn't make a snarky comment despite how tempting it was to mess with her parents.

"What's the matter, Eliza? You don't like dinner?" Ella questioned worryingly.

"No, dinner is great. I'm just not hungry," Eliza explained.

Beca glanced at her mother's plate and only then noticed that she had barely eaten anything.

Exhaustion and lack of appetite: Beca made a mental note to look up illnesses where these two were symptoms.

Later in the evening, they played Charades, which surprisingly turned out to be fun—Beca knew she had to do something about her cynicism because everything seemed to turn out 10 times better than she'd anticipate when it involved her family lately.

The step-monster of all people kicked ass at Charades while Dr. Mitchell did the worse.

The game was Benji's idea, saying it was his family's favorite game to play.

And making the loser wash the dishes was Beca's idea, which was why Dr. Mitchell was on dishwashing duty while the rest lounged in the living room.

"Who taught you how to do magic, Benji?" Ella asked the boy who was showing her the card tricks he knew once she, Benji, Sheila and Fat Amy finished playing a game of poker.

"I taught myself," he answered.

"That's impressive," she noted.

"Thanks," he beamed.

"Yeah, weird how you still lost at poker," Fat Amy said in puzzlement. "If I had your skills I would have definitely cheated to win," she was saying as she flipped a coin.

"You're not really a winner if you cheat," Benji opinionated and smiled when Ella patted his cheek before she got up to sit on the couch instead of the chair by the table.

"I think James needs some help with the dishes," Ella snorted, hearing crashing noise coming from the kitchen.

"I'll go give him a hand," Sheila figured, getting up.

"Qoph… that can't be a real word," Eliza mumbled looking up to meet Beca's gaze.

"I thought so, too," Beca told her, scribbling down the points the word granted her. "It's a Hebrew letter and it's in the dictionary, feel free to check."

"I stand corrected," Eliza said in response, not bothering to check, and placed her tiles.

"Since when do you know Hebrew letters?" Ella asked, overhearing Beca.

"I just know this one," Beca told her.

"Jesus, you're really good at this," Eliza said when Beca spelled a quite difficult word when it was her turn.

"Thanks," Beca smiled in response, humbly agreeing.

"Beca, the fact that you excel at Scrabble hurts your street cred," Fat Amy noted and Beca very subtly flipped her off. She was still pissed off over the Santa outfit purchase.

"It's not just Scrabble, Amy." Ella nodded at the bookcase.

"Is that a spelling bee trophy?" Fat Amy faked a gasp.

"Well, this makes sense then," Eliza said, throwing her arm over the couch and leaning against it. "I'm not terrible at this game you just happen to be a spelling champion."

Fat Amy pushed her chair back to get up and made her way to the bookcase to get a better look and saw a framed photo from a play where she could see Beca right in the middle of the stage. "You did theatre?"

"Uh-huh." She might have forgotten to mention her theatre background to any of her friends.

"I feel like I don't know you and we've been friends since we were four. You could be freaking Batman for all I know."

Beca rolled her eyes because Fat Amy was being dramatic. "It just never came up." She shrugged.

"I did theatre, too," Benji chimed in getting up to look at the bookcase as well.

"I would have been surprised if you didn't, Benji," Fat Amy said. "What other things are you hiding, Beca? Are you Batman?"

"I'm not hiding anything... Mom, are you falling asleep?" she frowned in confusion once she looked at her mother and found her clearly dozing off.

It was barely 10 pm.

"No, just resting my eyes." She sat up and rotated her neck. "Whose turn is it?" she asked.

"Your turn," Beca answered. "But we can stop if you want to." She looked tired and could use some sleep.

"No, no, this is fun." Eliza smiled meeting Beca's gaze before she reached to fetch herself some letters.

"You were in an Into the Woods production?" Benji mumbled eyeing one of the framed pictures.

"High school production," Beca replied.

"My high school did a production of into the woods, too. I got to play the baker," he recounted in excitement.

"I played a ratty version Cinderella," Beca informed.

"You sure have the voice for the part," Benji noted.

"Eh, I wanted to play the witch to be honest, but you get what you get." She shrugged.

"Into the Woods: that's a Broadway musical right?" Eliza asked.

"Yep," Benji and Beca answered in unison.

"I'd say it's Stephen Sondheim's finest work but then again everything he makes is so good," Benji went on to say.

"True that," Beca agreed.

"I can't believe you two are currently nerding out over Broadway," Fat Amy mumbled.

"You like Broadway, too, Amy," Beca deadpanned. "You can't tell me you wouldn't jump at the chance to become a Broadway Baby?"

Benji chuckled at the Follies reference Beca made, a reference only he got.

"I would love to rock any stage," Fat Amy said answering Beca's question.

"Would you?" Eliza asked her daughter who snorted in response.

"Nope, I wanna produce music." Pulling the last tiles from the bag, she frowned focusing as she thought of a word she could spell with what she had.

"Why not do both?" Ella wondered.

"Both are time-consuming. And while I enjoyed doing theatre, becoming a producer has always been what I wanted to be," Beca answered as she placed her tiles down.

"Well, we definitely should do this more often," Eliza said, taking a look at the score once Beca updated it. "I had fun getting my ass handed to me in Scrabble of all games," she continued.

"You're a worthy opponent," Beca deadpanned to which her mother rolled her eyes.

It was very early in the morning when Beca woke up and it wasn't because she was too excited to see what she got for Christmas. She got up to use the bathroom and was surprised to see that someone else was up and occupying the bathroom closest to her bedroom. She figured she'd go to the one on the first floor but stopped in her tracks when she realized that the person in the bathroom was currently puking.

She decided to go and check if they were okay. "You okay in there?" she asked.

"M-hmm. I'm okay," her mother answered before she flushed the toilet.

Beca let herself into the bathroom and watched her mother pull herself up and wash up.

"You wouldn't be throwing up if you were okay," she noted.

"Beca, I'm fine. Go back to bed." She sniffled, patting her face with a towel. "What are you even doing up this early?"

"No, you're not doing that again," Beca closed the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not changing the topic. Something is up with you and I wanna know what it is. If you're sick tell me. I can take it."

She swallowed hard: she really didn't want to hear that she was dying.

Eliza placed the towel back in its holder before she looked back at her daughter. "Let's not do this here."

"Jesus, mom! Just fucking tell me." Yes, she was freaking out. She really shouldn't have looked up her mother's symptoms on the internet. There were too many possibilities and they went from eating disorders and depression to lung and throat cancer.

"Keep your voice down. There's no need to wake everyone at four in the morning."

"Fine," Beca grumbled and unlocked the door.

"I was waiting for an appropriate time to tell you but there was never a good timing." Eliza closed the door to Beca's bedroom behind her.

Beca crossed her arms across her chest and willed herself to keep her emotions in check if the news were as terrible as she envisioned them.

"I'm pregnant," Eliza broke the news and arched an eyebrow at the blank look on Beca's face.

Blinking, at last, Beca buried her face in her hands, taking in the news.

Pregnancy never crossed her mind but it made sense, the lack of appetite and exhaustion made sense.

She was ready for the worse—at it again with her cynicism.

Inhaling deeply, she looked up. Nope, she needed more time to process.

"Aren't you a little old for babies?" she finally said.

"Beca, I'm barely forty, I'm not that old for babies. A lot of women are having babies in their forties," she blew a breath.

"It wasn't planned, was it?" Beca guessed.

"Nope," Eliza replied quickly.

"Of course, not," Beca murmured. "Who has kids on purpose?" she snorted.

"Hey, c'mon on—"

"—no, Mom. You screwed up once. Why are you deliberately fucking up another person's life again?" She paused, realizing that she was raising her voice and that she shouldn't do that because a, her grandmother raised her better than that, and b, everyone was asleep. "Just do everyone a favor and get an abortion." Harsh, Beca realized as soon as the words left her mouth but she was too pissed off to care.

"How can you say that about your sibling?" Eliza wondered, clearly hurt by what Beca said.

"Oh, trust me, mom, they're better off not coming to the world." She chuckled humorlessly. "I was lucky enough to have Nana. Who knows whom they will end up with once you grow tired of them in a few years?"

"Enough!" Eliza exclaimed and took Beca by surprise—so much for not waking everyone up. "I'm your mother you can't talk to me like this."

'Watch me,' was on the tip of her mouth but she kept her mouth shut seeing that just made her mother cry.

The crying turned into weeping in mere seconds and Beca would guess that it was the shift in hormones heightening her feelings.

The anger she was feeling not too long ago was replaced by regret at the sight of her mother crying over the harsh things she said to her.

Grabbing the tissue box that was on her desk, she nudged her mother with it. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You're right I shouldn't talk to you like that."

Eliza sniffled after blowing her nose into a tissue and sat down the bed. "The baby was unplanned but their father and I are together, Beca."

"Yeah, who is the father?" Beca asked, leaning against her desk across from her mother.

"Adrian."

"I didn't know you were back together." Last time she checked, her mother had broken up with Adrian over two years ago.

"We got back together a little over three months ago."

"And how far along are you?"

"Give or take three months."

Beca cleared her throat, biting back the comment she had because she really didn't want to make her mother cry again: she knew how likely it was if she didn't watch what came out of her mouth.

"I regret sending you to live with your father. I know you hate me for it and if I could I'd—" she started to cry mid-sentence and didn't finish it.

"I don't hate you, mom." Beca rolled her eyes. Yes, she resented her for most of her life. However, hatred was never something she felt towards her.

"I wish I could take it all back," Eliza managed to say.

"This is getting too sappy," Beca sighed.

"What?" Eliza looked at her in confusion.

"I don't do sappy." Beca shrugged. "I said some mean things for which I apologize," she apologized again. "But let's not get into things we can't do jack about." It was pointless and brought back loads of negative feelings and unpleasant memories. "Please don't screw the baby's life."

"I won't," Eliza answered.

Beca had a habit of assuming the worse when it came to her family and was aware of the fact that she needed to change that attitude: she starting with what she thought of her mother's parenting chops.

"You never told me why you got up this early?" Eliza asked.

"I had to—have to use the bathroom." She straightened up. "I really need to pee," she said before she left the room.

When she came back, her room was empty. She saw the lights downstairs on so she figured her mother went downstairs.

"Want some hot chocolate?" Eliza asked glancing up to see Beca in the kitchen's doorway.

"Yeah, sure," Beca said, stepping into the room.

"Do you happen to know where your granny keeps marshmallows?" she was asking as she tipped toed to get mugs from the cupboard.

Beca went and got the bag of marshmallows from one of the drawers.

She watched her mother pour the hot chocolate into the mugs and as she reached for the marshmallow bag she said, "I know I said I don't do sappy and this is gonna sound pretty sappy—thanks." She accepted the mug of hot chocolate her mother handed her. "—Every Christmas I used to wish we'd all spend the next Christmas together here until I was like twelve. I convinced myself that it was pretty stupid of a wish in the first place and stopped wishing for it to happen."

"It's not stupid," Eliza quipped.

"Yeah, I know," she agreed. "I'm glad it came true, though," she mumbled, bringing her mug to her lips to avoid eye contact.

"That wasn't that sappy," Eliza snorted, amused by Beca's awkwardness. "It's rather sweet actually. I'm really glad it came true, too."

She wanted to go for a hug but didn't know if she should so she settled for rubbing Beca's back. "Wanna make this a thing?" she asked.

Beca looked up at the question. "You'd fly over for Christmas every year to spend it with us here?"

"Yeah. I mean if your grandmother would have me… and your sibling—" she paused. "And Adrian if things work out with him," she murmured.

"She would," Beca quickly replied.

"Great. We should tell your Dad and see if he's down."

Beca nodded in agreement. "I hope things work out with Adrian," she said, knowing her mother's track record… boyfriend never seemed to stay.

"I hope so, too," Eliza said, sounding hopeful.

Beca felt bad for her mother, she never thought a day would come where she'd feel anything but resentment towards her mother. She felt bad for her because she, too, had a shitty childhood: a single mother who got remarried and treated her daughter like shit, punishing her for her father leaving despite it not being her fault, and an absent father with whom she had only recently patched up with. Her childhood fucked her up and it reflected on her life choices.

It scared Beca to think that she'd end up like her. She hated to think that she'd also struggle to maintain relationships just like her mother. It was part of why she never let anyone in.

It was very lonely and stupid but also very drastic and efficient.

And, then a certain somebody weaseled his way into her heart and fuck everything up for her. It was pretty dumb of her to think that ignorance would work.

"Where did you wander off to?" Eliza puzzled in curiosity, watching her daughter space out.

"Nowhere," Beca mumbled snapping out of it.

Eliza nodded slowly not believing her but doing her the favor of letting it go.

AN: Thank you for taking some time to read this. Please let me know what you think. Also, tell me where you think I'm taking this. I'd love to hear your guesses. Good day, people!