II
Hugo isn't talking to her.
Well, beyond the words why would you do that? and they were my friends, and now Rachel is at a loss as to what went so wrong. All she knows is her children were missing for almost two hours, stolen from a parking lot, and now they're back.
Unhurt and safe and angry with her, for some reason.
From Hugo's reaction, Rachel knew pressing charges would be pointless. The police also seemed uninterested, and Rachel doesn't really feel like starting a fight with some strange woman, for whatever reason.
Unlike Santana, who Hugo seems to hold even more disdain towards. It was alarming, really, because her older son isn't one for losing his temper or even using too many words. But, well, he really handed it to Santana when the dust settled, and now they're all just confused.
Hugo stormed up the stairs when they arrived home, and even Max seems distant. He's also wrapped in a blanket she's never seen, and something about it makes her both uncomfortable and inexplicably warm.
It's been a day and a half.
Rachel takes Max upstairs to his room to check him over and get him ready for bed. She finds a fresh onesie to change him into, and then proceeds to wipe him down with a damp cloth, frowning at the fact that his diaper is a brand she doesn't use.
Did that woman actually change his diaper? What the hell?
Max kicks a little, and then settles slowly as she works. He's practically asleep by the time she's finished, and his eyes slip fully closed when she sets him in his crib, bending to kiss his forehead.
"My precious baby," she whispers, and she can't even imagine life without him. Or Hugo.
God. She had to deal with the reality of such a thing between the panicked call Finn placed, and seeing some woman approach her with her children. They were the worst minutes of her life.
The way Finn described her, Rachel expected anyone other than the woman who eventually showed up, eyes soft and smile a little hesitant. Then she was statue-still, hiding her children from Finn and preparing to take him on.
And then Santana went and tackled her, throwing fists until the woman practically flung her off, which, yes, was super impressive. She looked a little rabid, looking around until her eyes settled on a young boy.
The punch she proceeded to land on Noah was equally impressive, delivered with such precision that Rachel is sure it's not the first one she's swung. Then she knelt in front of the boy, and Rachel's heart twisted rather painfully.
Rachel can't explain her feelings on the words she ended up saying, and she's sure there's more to it. What, though, she doesn't know.
With a sigh, she leaves Max's room and crosses the hallway to Hugo's. She knocks once, and then opens the door to reveal a dim room and a sleeping boy sprawled across his covers.
Rachel's heart aches at the sight of him. Things really haven't been the same since their move from New York a year ago, and she can't quite figure out what she's doing so wrong. It's been worse recently, though, and she wishes he would just talk to her.
Rachel moves into the room, avoiding clothes that have been flung on the floor. At least Hugo managed to change into his pyjamas before he passed out, and all she has to do is coax him under the covers without waking him and facing his ire.
She's successful, and he only mumbles something about ninjas as he resettles against his pillows. She bends to kiss his brow, and then proceeds to pick up his clothing for the laundry, pausing when she finds a thin jacket that's definitely not Hugo's.
She doesn't know what to make of all of this, so she just leaves the clothes in a pile on Hugo's desk chair, deciding she'll deal with it in the morning. Right now, she thinks a glass of wine will help her make sense of her thoughts.
She's almost right, as she settles into an armchair in the main living room a few minutes later, feeling her muscles relax. Her mind isn't as lucky, and it's running far too fast as she replays the last few hours of her life. She feels as if she's missing something important, but she can't figure out what.
The house is dark and quiet now, which isn't unusual for this time of night. More often than not, she's left to her own thoughts. They're a jumble, of course, because when aren't they? She's been restless for months now, and the only time she feels calm is -
Well.
She's not sure.
She sips at her wine and tries to clear her mind, which is definitely easier said than done. The unfortunate hallmark of a creative mind is that it very rarely switches off.
A blinking light catches her attention, and she frowns, because she's sure it wasn't blinking earlier. What even counts as earlier?
With a disgruntled huff, she gets to her feet and crosses over to where Noah installed their home phone. She very rarely uses it; rather making use of her mobile phone, so it's odd to see that they have a message.
From a stranger.
Uh, hello. Um, yeah, I'm calling because I wanted to let someone know that I have Hugo and Max with me. They're safe and fed, currently eating ice cream, so I hope that's okay. Uh, so, there was an incident this evening, I'm sure you now know, but I'm totally willing to explain. I think you'll understand I wasn't really left with much of a choice - I couldn't just let that man hurt them. I'm not sure what to do, given I haven't been in this situation before, but, uh, please call me back on XXX-XXXX as soon as possible, and we can figure out a way for me to get them back home. Oh, this is Quinn, by the way.
Rachel breathes through her nose, frowning at what she's just heard. She replays the message, recording it as a memo on her cell phone. What is she talking about? What incident? What man? Finn? That doesn't sound right.
Her body is exhausted, and her brain is overworked, so she makes a note to herself to figure out more about the situation in the morning.
The situation, as it stands, is that Hugo still isn't talking to her when the sun comes up. Instead, he stomps through preparing his own cereal and pouring himself a glass of juice, while Rachel feeds Max and nibbles on a bowl of fruit. She can practically feel the anger rolling off him, and he keeps glancing at Max, as if he's afraid there's something wrong with him.
It's really what prompts Rachel to ask him, "Did that woman hurt you?"
The look he gives her is scathing, and Rachel can't imagine what she's done to deserve it. "Of course not," he says. "Quinn wouldn't hurt us."
"She kidnapped you," Rachel protests, because she can't understand how Hugo could possibly be defending her.
"She did not kidnap us," Hugo forces out, his brow creased in something that looks like fury. He's even stopped eating, and Rachel just knows he's done.
"Are you trying to tell me you willingly went with her?"
Hugo gets up from the table and takes his bowl to the sink without saying another word.
"Hugo," Rachel says, her voice firm. "Tell me you did not get in the car with a complete stranger."
Hugo sets his bowl on the counter and leaves it there. When he speaks, there's something detached in his voice. "I don't see what's so different about what we did earlier in the day," he says, vaguely referring to the fact she left them with Finn for an entire afternoon. "At least Quinn fed us."
Rachel opens her mouth to reply - though, even she wouldn't know what to say - but Hugo runs from the room before she can. It leaves her stumped, definitely, and it takes Max banging his fists against his high chair for her to land back in reality.
"Okay, Buddy," she says, cleaning him up and lifting him out. Her mind is a little distracted as she gets him set up on the baby mat in the living room, pouring out his age-appropriate toys, and leaving him to entertain himself.
She makes herself a steaming latte, and then settles with her phone in the living room to check her messages. Most are from Santana, who seems just as confused as Rachel is, and she calls her back immediately.
"Yo."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Good morning, Santana."
"You realise how early it is, right?"
"I'm pretty sure Cam's had you awake since five," she points out, and Santana can't even dispute it. "What's for breakfast?"
"Coffee."
Rachel manages a smile as she sips her own latte. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"I definitely need it," she returns with a sigh. "You'd think that B and I would've learned from Hugo how tough having children is, and then we decided to have two of them. I'm fucking exhausted."
"You love being a mom."
"I really, really do," she admits, unashamed. "I also quite enjoy being a godmother, but my godson seems to have other ideas about that."
Rachel winces. "Well, it hasn't been any better this morning," she confesses. "If anything, it's been worse."
"Did he tell you what happened?"
"I'm trying to let him cool off," she says. "I'll approach him about it once I've had my coffee."
"Don't let it stew too much, Rach," she says. "He's stubborn in a way that's different to you."
"I don't even know where he gets it."
"Definitely not from the sperm donor, either."
Rachel chuckles. "He actually called the other day," she says. "Something about his plans to sell the loft."
"Huh?"
"He's moving out, apparently," she explains. "It's still in my name, technically, so I'm probably going to have to fly to New York to sort that out."
"Do you even want to sell?" she asks. "You worked hard to buy that place."
Rachel hums thoughtfully. "Think it would be better to rent it out?"
"Does he really think the money will go to him?"
"I won't claim to know anything that goes through his mind," she says, rolling her eyes.
"Did he even ask to speak to his son?"
Rachel doesn't respond to that, because they already know the answer to her question. It's layered in other topics about which they don't speak, but they both have truths that the other knows.
Santana puffs out a breath. "Well, look, let me know how it goes with Hugo, okay? I want my Hugo-Hugs."
"Sure, San," she says. "Thank you, and kiss the girls for me. We definitely missed them last night."
"I will," she says. "Later, Bitch."
Rachel has merely a moment to feel her amusement, before it fades to worry once more. Going straight at Hugo isn't going to work, especially when he's actively fighting against her, so she's going to need another plan of action.
Before she makes another move, she downs the rest of her coffee, and then dials another number.
Finn answers with a gruff, "Hello," and he still sounds annoyed by the events of the previous night. Not that Rachel can really blame him. He got decked in the face, kicked in the shin, a car door closed on him, and then had to deal with Rachel screaming at him for two hours for losing her children.
Finn Hudson has had a night from hell.
"Hey," Rachel says, trying to sound as sweet as possible. She won't apologise for her reaction to the news her kids were missing, but she thinks she probably owes Finn a bit of attention.
But, first, she has a pressing question, and it takes a few minutes of vague small talk to ask about what 'incident' the woman was referring to. Finn sounds just as confused by it as she feels, and she probably makes the mistake of mentioning that Hugo complained that they hadn't been fed, which is an explanation Finn latches onto.
Rachel won't say she feels completely comfortable with the idea her maybe-boyfriend forgot to feed her children, but it helps explain some of the confusion surrounding Hugo's ire and desire to get away.
Once the call is done, Rachel goes into the kitchen to clean up and do the few dishes, using the menial task to settle her mind further. House chores help with that, and she thinks they're due a few loads of laundry.
Max follows her around at a crawl, mumbling happily to himself and finding entertainment in her pink socks. When she goes upstairs to gather what dirty clothes she can find in all their bedrooms, she does not expect Hugo to react the way he does when she tries to take the foreign jacket.
He practically leaps to his feet from where he's reading on his bed and snatches it from her. "It's not mine," he says.
"I know," Rachel says carefully. "I just want to wash it, and then we'll return it."
Hugo glares at her. "We can't just return it," he says. "They're never going to speak to us again."
"Hugo, honey, this is - " crazy, she wants to say, but that's not a word to be used lightly.
"Just leave it alone," he says, turning away. "Leave me alone. You're good at it."
Again, Rachel is stumped. He's never said anything like that to her before, and it makes her eyes sting. The only thing she can really think of is to ground him for how rude he's being, so she does.
It doesn't seem like a punishment at all.
In fact, it probably hurts her more than it hurts him.
After a week of short outbursts and the silent treatment, Rachel makes sure to take Hugo and Max to Rose's Diner herself the following Wednesday, the way she promised and failed the week before. There's a tiny part of her that wonders if they'll end up seeing the woman - Quinn - again, but she's trying not to dwell.
Marley is a little hesitant with her approach when they arrive, and Rachel tries not to blame her. The teenager almost talked herself hoarse saying that Quinn was the nicest woman, and she would never hurt Rachel's children the way Finn was implying, only to have nobody believe her.
"Hello," she says anyway, her smile brightening when Max reaches out for her. She shakes his little hand, and then holds out a fist for Hugo to bump. "There should be a free booth in the back," she says. "I'll come by with the menus we all know you're not going to use."
Hugo giggles, and then leads the way to the back of the diner. Rachel's eyes scan the current occupants, recognising nearly all of them from her youth and from the year they've been back. The little family gets nods and waves of greeting as they pass, and it warms a part of Rachel she was sure was chilled to the bone.
Their time in Lima hasn't been easy, but it's definitely been easier than what was the end of their time in New York. Hugo was supposed to be happier here, and, for the most part, he is.
Just, not recently.
Hugo slides into one side of the booth, and Rachel sits with Max in the other, trapping the baby between her body and the wall as he crawls around and attempts to stand.
"Do you know what you're having?" Rachel asks, her right hand steady on Max's back.
Hugo swings his legs as he nods. He gets the same thing every time: a glass of milk and chicken pot pie, with blueberry pie for dessert. Rachel is a fan of the spinach and feta pie, and Max's favourite is pumpkin.
Rachel barely has to tell Marley their order. She arrives with Hugo's milk and Rachel's water, and asks if they're getting their usual.
"And Brittana's," Rachel adds with a nod, suddenly wary of drawing attention to the fact they're going to be joined by Hugo's godmother and Brittany, sans their own children, engineered in an attempt to get Hugo to talk.
It should be fine, she tells herself, but she's proven wrong mere minutes later.
Hugo's mood shifts when Santana and Brittany arrive, his smile slower and his words limited. It's obvious he's still angry with his godmother, and Santana is hoping to talk to him about it tonight. Rachel just hopes they can work it out, because it's honestly one of the most important relationships in Hugo's life.
At some point, Santana gives her a very particular look, and Rachel excuses herself with Brittany to go and see which dessert pies are on offer, Max in her arms. Hugo shoots her a glare, but she just smiles innocently in return.
Rachel, Brittany and Max move towards the long, front counter, dodging a few running children, to peek into the dessert display.
"Ooh," Brittany says. "They have lemon meringue pie tonight."
"That's San's favourite," Rachel muses.
"I think she's going to need it," Brittany comments, glancing over her shoulder at where Santana is obviously trying to talk to Hugo and he's blatantly ignoring her.
Well.
"How has she been?" Rachel asks, catching Max's hand when he reaches for some silverware.
"She misses him," Brittany divulges. "She doesn't understand why he's so angry."
"I'm struggling with that myself," Rachel admits. "I get that this Quinn woman managed to endear herself to him, and then Santana, well, she attacked her, but it feels as if it's something else; something bigger." She blinks. "Like she's failed him, somehow."
"Hopefully, he'll tell us soon," Brittany says. "In the meantime, I'm going to get some pie and take it over there; see if I can break the tension."
Rachel nods at the idea, and then turns back to the counter while Brittany gets Kitty's attention behind the counter. She feels a little odd and out of place, and she's unsure how to get her mind to settle.
She sits Max on the counter so he can swing his legs, and she marvels at his little boy smile right until the moment it twists unpleasantly and he starts to cry. She frowns at the sudden change, ready to comfort him, until she feels a heavy hand on her shoulder and a tall presence slide into her side.
Finn.
Her teenage heart skips a beat at the idea of him, and she turns her head to accept the kiss to the cheek she knows he's now willing to give. Something settles in her mind at the contact, but Max kicks out again, and she's about to lift him into her arms again when Hugo appears out of nowhere and takes him instead.
Hugo's eyes are downcast as he stands there, his little brother secure in his arms, when he says, "I want to go home now."
Rachel frowns. "But you haven't even had dessert yet," she points out.
"I want to go home," he repeats, his voice tense.
"Hugo, honey, we can't just go home," she says. "We're still eating."
"I'm done," he says.
"Well, I'm not."
"I want to go home."
Rachel takes a breath, because her son is almost as stubborn as she is. She also doesn't want to start a fight here, but she knows she can't bend to his demand, just knowing it would send the wrong message.
"Maybe you should let them go," Finn says in her ear, and she stiffens. "Santana and Brittany can take them, and you and I can have the evening to ourselves."
Rachel hates that she considers it; positively despises it. As if a night without her children is something she would strive for. As if spending time with them is some kind of chore.
Rachel shakes her head, as if clearing it, and then steps closer to Hugo and Max, and away from Finn. She schools her features into something stern and drops the volume of her voice when she says, "We are not leaving," to Hugo.
His jaw clenches.
"Go back to the booth," she says steadily. "Take your brother with you. Eat your dessert, and we'll talk about this later."
Hugo eventually huffs out a breath, and then spins around and stomps away, Max bouncing in his arms.
Rachel turns to look at Finn, an unreadable look on her face. He looks hopeful of something, and Rachel wants nothing more than to wipe it right off his face.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, her tone a little icy.
His expression falters. "I - I wanted to see you."
"I told you I was having dinner with my family," she says. "Or, was it that you wanted to join us?"
Finn hesitates, which is really enough for her to know his intention was always to steal her away and leave her boys with their aunts.
Well.
Rachel shakes her head. "Goodnight, Finn," she says, and then starts to turn away, only for him to reach out for her wrist, stopping her.
"But - but we could spend the evening together."
"Not tonight, Finn," she says firmly, and then slips out of his grasp to return to their booth, where Hugo is sulking with Max in his lap and Santana and Brittany are watching him with worry.
Before Rachel can say anything, Marley arrives behind her with the check Rachel didn't know they asked for and a smile. If she senses the tension, she doesn't show it. She rather sets the check on the table, and then bends to tickle Max's cheek while Brittany takes out her purse to settle the bill.
Hugo blinks up at Marley. "Have they come back?" he asks quietly, and Rachel pretends she's not listening.
Marley falters a little. "No, they haven't," she says just as softly. "Definitely not while I've been working."
"Did we scare them away?"
"That's not what happened, Hugo," she tells him. "They've probably been busy trying out all the other diners in town before they figure out Rose's is the best and finally show up again."
Hugo just about manages a smile. "Do you really think so?"
Marley nods earnestly. "I really do."
Hugo nods once, and then leans back, suddenly looking so small and young and lost.
Rachel wants to hold him, but she's sure Hugo won't accept her comfort right now.
Brittany hands Marley her card, and the teenager disappears for a moment, leaving them to get ready to leave. It's a little unspoken that their evening has ended, and Rachel hasn't even had her dessert pie yet.
Well, at least her hips will thank her.
When Marley returns, they say their thanks and farewells, and then leave the diner in silence. Hugo holds onto Max as if someone wants to take him away, and that has Rachel's senses prickling.
They linger in the parking lot, Hugo shifting uncomfortably as Max squirms, looking happier now that they're out of the diner and away from -
Rachel takes her car keys out of her pocket and hands them to Brittany, silently asking her to get her sons situated while she talks to Santana.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and say he didn't say anything," Rachel says, sighing when Hugo is out of earshot.
"Nothing," she agrees. "It's as if he can't even look at me. I mean, what did that woman do to him?"
"She fed him ice cream, apparently."
Santana's eyebrows rise. "Did he tell you that?"
"She did, actually," Rachel says, taking out her phone and playing the recording of Quinn's voice message.
"What the hell?" Santana asks when it's over. "What is she even talking about? What did Hugo tell you? Is she talking about Finn? Because I'll fucking - "
Rachel waves a hand to stop Santana's tirade. "It was just a misunderstanding," she says, her brow creased. "I already talked to Finn, and he said the boys were just cranky because they hadn't eaten, and Quinn must have read their dual tantrums as something else."
"Something like what?"
"A cry for help," she says quietly. "Which is crazy. Finn wouldn't - I would know."
Santana looks unconvinced, though she says nothing more on that particular topic. Well. "Just, maybe, make sure he's not alone with the boys for a while," she says. "Hugo could just be acting out because you and Finn seem to be getting closer or whatever it is the fuck you two are doing."
Rachel pockets her phone, nodding in understanding. "That's probably what's best," she says. "I hope it all blows over."
"You're going to have to talk to him," Santana says.
"Who?"
"Both of them."
It really doesn't help with her decision that both Hugo and Max fall asleep on the way home. It's a little bit of a relief, maybe, because she doesn't really know where to begin with Hugo.
Something is cracked between them, and she can't pinpoint when it happened or why.
If it's still happening.
If it will continue to.
By now, she's a regular old pro at getting Hugo and Max into the house and into bed. She knows she has a lot to think about; a lot to reevaluate, but she's not ready for it. She's not sure she's ever going to be.
Which is a thought that's amplified when she opens her eyes in the morning and feels no different. Confused and overwhelmed and so, so insignificant in a way she hasn't felt since she was a sophomore in high school. It was so long ago, she barely remembers how she handled it then, that she has no hope of doing any better this time around.
The first thing Rachel does once she's up and about is visit the bathroom for all the necessities, and she spends an inconceivably long time just staring at herself in the mirror above her sink. She doesn't think she's changed in appearance all that much in the past week, but she almost doesn't recognise herself.
Something has happened.
Something irreversible.
With a heavy sigh, she leaves her bedroom, retrieves her phone and goes to check on Max, unsurprised to find him awake and sitting up with those gorgeous, big baby eyes that she could stare into for the rest of eternity.
"Good morning, Sweetie Pie," she coos softly, moving into the room with her arms outstretched, prompting him to do the same.
They have a bit of a routine in the morning, and she lifts him out of his crib to his changing station, just knowing she's about to be hit with quite the surprise. As she works, she keeps up her running commentary, somehow just enjoying talking to him, even if he doesn't understand a word she says.
She's just about finished when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket, and she retrieves it to see Santana's grumpy face eyeing her. Just the wakeup call she needs, and she shows the screen to Max, watching his eyes light up in recognition.
Rachel answers a beat later, putting it on speaker and setting it among the baby powder and baby wipes. "You should know," she says in lieu of a greeting; "Max only recognises you when you're scowling."
"I resent that," Santana says, her voice gruff. "Also, your goddaughter had a nightmare she was being attacked by a peanut. I can't even with this child."
Rachel chuckles, clipping Max's onesie closed. "Hear that, baby boy, Camila is being attacked by peanuts."
"She was pretty traumatised," Santana says. "I don't know what kind of peanuts exist in the dream world, but damn."
"It seems your kid has quite the imagination."
"I suppose," Santana muses.
"Is that why you called?" Rachel asks. "To tell me about Cam's dream?"
"And to find out about my godson."
Rachel sighs, patting Max's tummy. "I should probably apologise for the way the night ended," she says. "It was so rushed and so tense. We went to the Diner to have a good time; get our minds off the last week."
"It totally didn't work."
"Epic fail."
Santana sighs. "There's definitely something going on with him. We just need to figure it out."
"I'm working on it."
"Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Will do."
"Call you later, Hot Mama."
Rachel lets out an amused breath, very thankful for her best friend. "Later, Santana."
"You love me."
Rachel exaggerates a kiss. "Bye."
Once the call ends, Rachel's eyes settle on Max's alert eyes. "Do you know what's up with Hugo?" she asks, sounding entirely too serious, as if she could possibly get an actual answer from him. Which is just ridiculous.
Max just stares blankly at her.
Well, it was worth a try.
"Is someone ready for breakfast?" she asks next. "What are you wishing for, huh? How do you feel about some porridge?" She wiggles his little legs, laughing when he kicks out at her. "You're so strong, aren't you? My strong, strong boy."
Rachel makes sure everything is properly sealed, lest they experience some kind of accident, and then lifts him up to leave the room. "Oof," she murmurs. "Someone's getting big, huh? You better start walking before Momma won't be able to carry you anymore or I'm just going to have to drag you around like a baby gorilla." The idea is amusing, and she has a smile on her face right until the moment she peeks into Hugo's room to find his bed empty and unmade.
It's not wildly uncommon, but he usually lingers in his room with a book or something until she gets him for breakfast, and the fact he's not feels like part of the disjoint in which they now find themselves.
With another sigh, Rachel heads down the stairs with Max, suddenly hearing Hugo's voice. His words are a little rushed, practically whispered, and Rachel's Mama Senses prickle at the realisation her son is talking to someone who isn't her.
Rachel pauses on the steps, trying to hear what Hugo is saying. She hopes he's talking to one of his grandfathers on the phone but there's a part of her that just knows he's not. She knows, but she won't allow herself to acknowledge it for what it possibly is.
With a sigh, Rachel keeps moving, making sure to make as much noise as she can coming down the last few stairs. She moves into the living area, and her heart pangs at the sight of Hugo standing there, little face flushed guiltily and hands behind his back.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asks.
"Nothing," he squeaks.
Rachel sighs. "Were you on the phone?"
"No."
"Because I think you owe your aunts a call, to apologise for your behaviour last night." She'll demand her own apology later.
Hugo barely hesitates before he's agreeing, already reaching for the phone again. Rachel might delude herself into thinking she managed to convince him all on her own, but she knows better.
The only reason he concedes is because Quinn got to him first.
It's the upcoming Saturday afternoon when Rachel sees the woman again. She's out with that same boy and a bouncing dog, the three of them running with a soccer ball and laughing as they streak across the park Hugo begged her to come to, his eyes a little excited.
She should have known.
They very rarely come here.
Hugo sees them a beat later, and then he's taking off before Rachel can stop him, making a beeline for the little family. Rachel can only watch in fascination as Hugo's entire demeanour transforms as he approaches them, and something ugly twists in her chest.
Why isn't he like that with her?
Hugo gets a hug out of the boy and a fist bump from the woman. She bends a little to check his face and body, as if she's studying for any hurts, and it makes Rachel's skin crawl. Is that what she meant? Just because Santana hurt her; she must hurt Hugo as well?
Rachel's expression twists with rage, and her eyes narrow when the woman - Quinn - ruffles Hugo's hair and he doesn't even move away from her. She must ask after Max, because Hugo hesitates, and then points in her direction, where she's standing with Max in his pram.
The smile slips right off the woman's face, and she takes a small step away from Hugo. The boy with her seems to say something, and all three of them slowly relax. Then they're moving towards Rachel, dog in tow.
Rachel holds her breath, unsure what to expect.
It's Hugo who speaks first, smiling a little uneasily, as if he expects to get in trouble later. "Mom, this is Lex," he says, gesturing to the blonde boy at his side; "and his mom, Quinn."
Lex waves. "Hello, Hugo's Mom," he says, smiling just enough to be polite.
Before Rachel can say anything, Hugo keeps talking. "Quinn, this is my mom, Rachel," he says. "She's super sorry for what happened the last time."
Rachel flinches, and Quinn looks equally caught off guard.
Quinn manages a smile, though. "Thanks, Bud," she says, and then looks at Rachel. Their gazes meet for only a moment, and Rachel feels a little sucker-punched by the deep hazel she finds there.
But, then, Quinn's gaze moves on to Max, who is lying happily in his pram, legs suddenly kicking in excitement at the sight of this woman.
Quinn steps forward, a little bent, to greet the baby properly, and Rachel's instinct has her pulling the pram closer to her, which makes Quinn freeze. Her jaw clenches, but she says nothing as she straightens and takes that same step back. Her hand slides over Lex's shoulders, and Rachel won't dare look away from her.
"Well," Quinn says, her tone as light as she can manage. "Officer H, this monster and I have to get home so Sash can have her nap."
If Hugo senses the obvious lie, he says nothing about it. He does pout, though, and then bends to rub the top of the dog's head. "Okay," he finally says, sounding dejected.
"Hey," Quinn says. "None of that. It's Saturday. The sun's shining. There's no school on Monday. You're out with your mom and Little Bug. Today is the best day."
Hugo smiles at her, and it's a smile he very rarely aims Rachel's way anymore.
"That's the spirit," Quinn says, and then pushes Lex softly forward. "Kiddo, say bye. Sash's bed's calling."
Lex rolls his eyes, but wraps Hugo in a quick hug, and then says, "I like your sneakers," so endearingly that Rachel is charmed.
"Thank you," Hugo says, blushing slightly.
Lex grins, and then turns to Quinn. "I think Sasha just yawned."
Quinn laughs out loud, and then lunges for him, easily lifting him over her shoulder as he squeals. She looks at Hugo. "Later, H-Man," she says with a playful salute before turning serious eyes on Rachel. "Hugo's Mom." A smile for Max. "See you, Little Lamb." And then spins around, taking off with Sasha following.
Rachel and Hugo stand and watch until they can't hear Lex's laughter anymore, and Rachel suddenly feels inexplicably sad about it. She doesn't look at Hugo until she absolutely has to, because she's not sure she's willing to face his anger.
It's worse, though. He isn't even looking at her. Rather, his eyes are on Max, who is lying very still in his pram, making very little noise. It's as if Hugo is making some kind of decision in this moment, and it is profound.
Eventually, Hugo looks at her, dejection in his very being. "Can we also go home?" he asks. "I'm kind of tired."
Rachel wouldn't even dream of denying him, even throwing in ice cream for good measure.
It barely helps.
The next time Rachel sees Quinn, she's alone.
Well, Rachel is alone, but Quinn is with her son. They're rolling through the aisles of the hardware store, casually talking about what tools they need for some project, and Rachel can't look away if she tries.
All she needs is to pick up some batteries for one of the clocks on the wall, and now she's been in the store for much longer than is strictly necessary. It's just that Lex's laugh is happy and free - nothing like Hugo's - and Quinn talks to him so seriously.
Rachel stays as hidden as she can manage, watching as they pick out the size of nails they're going to need. It takes her far too long to figure out her mind has settled just watching them, and, when it does, she ends up tripping over a hose and sending a few water jugs to the floor.
Of course.
All eyes turn towards her, including Lex's and Quinn's, and Rachel wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole to save her from this embarrassment. Gosh.
Without looking up, she bends to pick up all the things she's knocked over, and she gets the shock of her life when little hands come to help her.
She doesn't have to glance up to know it's Lex, and she really can't figure out what she feels in this moment. Between the two of them, the jugs are all righted and returned to their positions within moments, so Rachel has no choice but to straighten and acknowledge her little helper.
Lex is smiling up at her when she finally looks, Quinn standing with their cart about two metres behind him. "I once fell into a whole stack of toilet rolls in Target," he says. "It took Mom and I forever to put them back. She says two hands are better than one." He scrunches up his face, replaying his words. "Two sets of hands, I mean," he clarifies, blushing.
"That's very true," she finds herself saying. "Thank you for your help."
"You're welcome," he says very clearly, and then mumbles, "Have a good day," before spinning on his heel and rushing back to his mother.
Quinn acknowledges her with a raised hand, and then asks Lex, "Ready to pick some paint?" before the two of them disappear around the aisle.
Rachel is frozen in place for another full minute, before she forces herself to head to the checkout. She's even tempted to leave the batteries altogether, but she doesn't want the entire trip to prove pointless. She needs the batteries, anyway. The clock has been bothering her.
Lots of things have been bothering her.
Once she's in her car and on her way home, her heart does something. It's nothing that's ever happened to her before, and her brain won't allow her to acknowledge it's something to do with Lex. And Quinn.
Them.
Two complete strangers, who seem to have charmed her sons, and are now on their way to doing something to Rachel.
Something she can't figure out, and something she can't decide she actually wants.
Rachel was seeing a therapist when they were still in New York. It wasn't anything regular, but NYADA offered their students ten free sessions a year, and Rachel definitely put them to use, before she graduated and had to pay for her mental health out of pocket.
On top of everything else.
The first year with Hugo was the most difficult, and she looks back at it now and wonders how she managed to survive at all. Just the fact he's still alive and healthy is an accomplishment, and she'll forever be grateful to her best friends for all they've done to help.
All they still do.
Romance has always been a bit of a problem for her. Moving to New York was supposed to... change things but she quickly found herself in a similar pattern. She left Finn behind, only to find herself in another web of boys who were threatening her plans for her life and career.
And then the ultimate boy was born, and all her plans went up in a puff of smoke.
Really, if anything, Rachel could possibly be going through her quarter-life crisis just a few years late. Her career is up in the air, she can't commit to anything romantic and now she's facing all this confusion around a woman who shouldn't be affecting her at all. But she is, in ways that make Rachel want to take her children and run.
Where, she doesn't know. This entire thing doesn't seem fair. She was here first, trying to live her life as best she could, and now this woman just waltzes in and messes everything up.
Ruins everything.
Rachel can't quite pinpoint exactly what Quinn has done that's so terrible, but the situation with Hugo isn't getting better, and she can't stop the blame she places on a woman she hasn't even spoken a single word to.
It's almost as if the Universe is conspiring against her, because, now that Rachel knows who to look for, it's as if she sees Quinn and Lex everywhere she goes, with or without her own children.
On an average day, she spends time in her studio or doing voice work, and does her best to spend time with her sons, her friends or her fathers.
The evenings are usually spent at home or out with Finn while the boys are with their godparents or their grandparents.
She's really very rarely alone or not busy, and she's been toying with the idea of taking a day off and retreating to a spa or a quiet park, just to recharge. To clear her head. To settle her mind and decide what's next for her and her boys.
Rachel has options. The real problem is that she probably has too many, and she's unable to make a decision. Her career has turned down a different path, but she can't bring herself to be disappointed by it. She was forced into adjusting her dreams when Hugo arrived, and it's been worth it and more.
The thing is Rachel doesn't actually have a job. Being a songwriter/music producer doesn't really give her an office job, which works for raising two young boys, but there's only so much work one can get without having had the time to build a name for herself.
She's good, she knows, and so do a few other people in the industry. She lends her voice to her own demos, working on commission and sending out samples to bigger producers. She's had a few hits here and there, but the question she's been asked repeatedly is what now?
There's a job for her at William McKinley High School. It's the position of Music Director, leading the entire Department and shining a light on the Arts. She still has a few weeks to make her decision, but school starts in the Fall and Mr Schuester needs an answer, or he's going to have to keep looking.
Rachel used to be good at making making plans and decisions, but it's not just herself she has to consider anymore. She has children. Children who will probably grow up without a father; who she hopes won't suffer from being raised by a single parent.
Rachel doesn't kid herself. Finn won't ever be her sons' father. It isn't even that she thinks he would be a bad father; it's that they're not his, and she can tell that bothers him.
It's really the number one reason she's been unable to commit fully to him. It's not just her anymore. It's never going to be, and the fact he wants to spend time with her only when she's alone should be off-putting, but they have proved to be moments she guiltily enjoys.
It's terrible.
She's terrible.
There's a self-loathing that settles deep in the pit of her stomach now that Hugo sometimes cowers from her, and there's something in her that's come to associate the feeling of failure as a mother with Quinn. It's irrational, she knows, but she can't help it. For some reason she won't put a name to, she's fixated on a woman who seems to exist everywhere now - including in her son.
The problem is she knows barely anything about Quinn, or her adorable son. What she does figure out is that Quinn and Lex are never apart, from the times she's seen them out and about. Wherever Lex is, so is Quinn, which is expected, of course, but the fact Quinn is never without Lex is... strange.
From Marley, Rachel learns they're really, really new to town, so it makes sense that they would spend time with only each other.
Just, doesn't the woman work? And, doesn't she wear pants? Nobody owns that many pairs of shorts, surely. Rachel tells herself she's not looking at the woman's legs, but she definitely is.
They're very nice legs, lean and muscular, and Rachel knows she shouldn't notice, but she does, and there's a certain guilt that follows that thought. It has little to do with Finn, she knows, because they're not even together, but more to do with Quinn herself.
Objectifying Quinn seems distasteful, for some reason. Is it because Quinn is a mother? Is it because there are other, acrid feelings attached to the woman?
She doesn't know, and it all reaches a head the first time Rachel does see Quinn alone, strolling through the hardware again - Rachel stopped by to get lightbulbs for her father - and there's an odd anger that sparks at the sight of the woman's stupid easy demeanour and stupid blonde hair and stupid denim shorts.
Anger that ignites into storming towards where she's casually studying various drill bits.
Quinn visibly startles at her approach, and actually flinches when Rachel practically barks, "What did you do to my son?"
Quinn drops the packet in her hand in surprise, her eyebrows shooting up. "Excuse me?"
"He barely talks to me," she forces out, waving her hands. "He barely even looks at me! Ever - ever since you stole him and - and did whatever you did to him, he hasn't been the same. Do you even know what it feels like to have your son be in the same room as you and ignore you, huh? Do you have any idea how hard it already is without having to fight to get any one thing done? We haven't done anything together in weeks, and I haven't been able to get him to - " she growls in frustration. "So, what did you do to him? Everything was okay before you showed up, dammit. Who are you? Just who do you think you are? Where do you get off - "
"Mommy?" a tiny voice interrupts somewhere behind them, appearing around the end of the aisle, and Rachel comes back down to earth quite drastically.
Quinn shoots a look at Rachel that speaks volumes, and then waves a hand at Lex. "It's okay, Baby Shark," she says softly. "Mommy's okay. Look." She shows him her hand, palm up. "I'm fine. Come here. Come see."
Lex scampers towards her, tucking himself against her side, and Rachel takes a step back, mortified. What did she just do? What did she just say?
Quinn runs a hand along Lex's back. "Everything's okay," she says again, her gaze lifting to look at Rachel. "Hugo's Mom and I were just talking."
"She was yelling at you," he mumbles. "She was yelling at you like Blair did."
Quinn closes her eyes and breathes out slowly. "It's not the same, Xander," she tells him. "I promise it's not the same."
"Promise?"
"I promise," Quinn says. Then, to Rachel, she asks, "Did you say everything you need to say to make yourself feel better?" Her jaw clenches. "Because I now have a situation to deal with, and I'd much rather do that in private."
Rachel barely has time to reply before Quinn is lifting Lex into her arms, making sure he's secure, and then turning and walking away without her cart.
There's really no explanation for what's just happened, and Rachel feels very off-balance and off-kilter. What the hell just happened?
With shaky hands, she reaches for her phone to call someone. Santana. Kurt. Anyone. Just the most stable person right now. Someone who will understand. Her father? Just, someone.
She ends up calling nobody.
What she does do is buy everything in Quinn's cart, and then make sure to tell the General Manager to make sure Quinn gets it if she returns to continue her shopping. He gives her a curious look, but she doesn't give him much more information.
"Thank you," is all she says, and then heads into the parking lot. She wonders if Quinn would still be around, so she can apologise, but the duo is gone.
It makes Rachel feel worse, which she didn't even think was possible. She doesn't even know what she's supposed to do now. How is she supposed to make this better? If she even can. Hugo definitely won't appreciate her actually making it worse.
All she knows is she's probably not going to be telling her son about this incident. In fact, she thinks it's best nobody ever hears about it, because she really has no idea how she would even explain her reaction to Quinn.
She's made the decision, when she finally gets to her fathers' house, several lightbulbs in tow. Hugo is sitting with Max in the living room, playing with a few of his action figures, and her parents are moving about, spending half the time in the kitchen.
Rachel needs to hold onto this moment, because something is very seriously unraveling within her, and she's unsure how to stop it. Whatever it is.
She contemplates discussing it with her father, Hiram, just for some perspective, but she's definitely not ready for what any of this could mean. She's aware enough to have some kind of idea, but -
She's not ready, and she wonders if she'll ever be.
Later, after Rachel has taken a long bath and put Max down for the night, Hugo does the thing and crawls into bed with her. He gives her a brief hug and a kiss to her cheek before he shifts to the other side of the bed and starts to read the book he's brought with him.
Rachel almost starts crying; she's so shocked, and happy and sad and relieved.
Guilty, too, and a little heartbroken, because this, too, she knows has nothing to do with her.