Chapter Twelve
"Santana!" Rachel flung her door open to pull Santana into a hug. "What's wrong? What's happened?"
Santana's words came out in a garbled jumble that Rachel couldn't understand.
"Come inside with me. It's too cold out here."
Calming somewhat, Santana nodded her head against Rachel's shoulder and let the other girl step out of her way. Before getting out she remembered the box and brought it inside along with her bag.
"Let me take those," Rachel reached for the bag and box but Santana stopped her.
"No, no. I'll keep the box."
Rachel gave her a perplexed look but didn't say anything.
"Is that Santana?" Leroy looked over the back of the sofa and smiled at her. "Why aren't you with your-?" Rachel shot him a glare and shook her head. "I mean, so glad to have you. Come in, sit."
Santana did just that. She sat. And she sat. Mindlessly, she played with the seams of the box.
After a couple of minutes of not speaking Leroy decided to pipe up, "That a present?"
His comment pulled Santana from her reverie, she looked down at the box in her hands and chuckled. "No. Not quite."
"What is it, San?" Rachel quietly asked from her spot next to Santana.
"You'll never believe it, Rach." Santana's sudden grin was quite jarring. "We got one more thing in common."
"What's that?"
"My dad's gay too."
"But I thought-"
"I don't know him, I know." The grin swiftly fell back off her face. "My mom's hidden the truth from me for so long. And now," her chin wobbled. "And now my abuela hates me."
Rachel was confused, as was her father. Hiram had just come in from outside and was stamping snow of his shoes, humming some indistinguishable show tune.
"Howdy-ho, family!"
"Dad, shh!" Rachel chastised.
"What makes you think that, honey? I'm sure she doesn't." Leroy said.
"She does. She hates me. She hates me because I'm gay too."
Realisation settled in Leroy's gaze and he shared a look with his husband. "Oh, sweetheart."
"Tell us what happened." Hiram came to sit on the other side of Santana and soothingly rubbed her back as she ran through everything that had gone down at her house. It had been an emotional rollercoaster she just wanted off of, but that'd require forgetting anything had ever happened and that wasn't going to happen. The longer she talked the more and processed the deeper the pit in her stomach felt.
"I feel sick."
Rachel gave her dads an alarmed look, "Here, I'll show you where the bathroom is." She stood and took Santana's hand, leading her to the bathroom upstairs so that they could have a conversation without her dads overhearing.
Santana splashed her face with cold water and used the hand towel Rachel handed her to dry her face.
"What are you going to do?"
"God knows. I wasn't really thinking. Maybe I should have stayed, given my mom a chance to talk, but I'm here now." Santana realised she'd dropped all of this in Rachel's lap on Christmas. Way to go, asshole. Shaking her head Santana turned to face the other girl. "Rachel, I'm so sorry for turning up like this. You don't deserve the drama of it all, it's my problem. I'll go."
"No, no. It's fine." Rachel reached for her arm as she went for the door. "Don't be silly, I'm your friend and my dads won't mind if you want to stick around."
Santana was so grateful for Rachel, with Quinn and Lucia not around she really felt alone in that moment she'd stopped at the end of Quinn's driveway. She'd told her mom she was going to Rachel's but she wasn't sure where she was going to stop. Being here and knowing for a fact that Rachel had her back had her wanting to cry for a different reason altogether.
Instead, she took Rachel by surprise and hugged her. It didn't last as long as either would have liked but Santana saw that her cut hand was leaving marks on Rachel's clothes in the mirror.
"Damn," she pulled her hand to get a look at it, it was superficial but it still stung a little. "Sorry."
"It's okay, it'll wash out." The silence that filled the bathroom was broken by Santana's stomach growling, making Rachel laugh. "Hungry?"
Santana put a hand on her stomach as if it'd quiet it. "A little. It all went to shit just as the food was ready, how inconsiderate of my abuela. She should have saved it for dessert," she gave a pained laugh of her own.
"Well I'll keep you fed and watered, don't you worry." Rachel gave her a sympathetic smile. "Come on, we'll have something to eat and we can figure out the rest later."
Santana gave her a small nod and followed Rachel's lead back downstairs. Her heart still sat heavily in her chest as she listened to Rachel and her dads talk around the table, occasionally addressing her to make her feel included. She wanted to talk to Quinn, she needed to talk to Brittany and her mom. She wondered who her mom would call, if she were to call anybody at all. Lucia? No, she wouldn't upset her when she was so far away unable to do anything about it. Should she call her?
She shook her head to herself and picked at her food, the longer she tried to think things through the less of an appetite she had.
The sound of her name had her looking up again to meet the concerned gaze of Leroy, she didn't know what he had said but she nodded anyway and lowered her gaze once more to rearrange her plate.
Where was her dad? Did he still miss her? Did he still write? She hadn't gotten a chance to get a good look through the envelopes yet. Maybe they were just birthday cards, cards for the holidays. Nothing that would tell her anything about him. Or maybe he'd written letters that told her how much he wished he could have seen her grow up.
The hypotheticals clouded her brain. She could find out right now if she wanted, but she was scared.
She wasn't sure what she wanted from them.
...
Some time had passed and it was late in the evening, Rachel and Santana were in Rachel's room getting ready for bed. Rachel had insisted she stay if she wanted to, not wanting Santana to feel as though she had to leave.
Rachel was concerned, Santana had been very quiet ever since they'd rejoined her dads. She watched her out of the corner of her eye as she brushed her hair in the mirror. Santana had gotten changed and was sitting on the edge of her bed looking at the box she'd brought with her.
When Santana suddenly looked up, Rachel tried her best to make it look like she hadn't been watching her.
"I think I'm going to call my mom." Santana said, placing the box on the floor and tucking it under the bed with the heel of her foot.
Rachel turned to face her and met her eye, unsure as to whether she wanted input or not. She would have encouraged it but didn't want to push.
When Santana stood and pulled her phone out of the band of her sleep pants, Rachel's eyes flicked down to the box. Curiosity killed the cat, Rachel. She told herself. Biting her lip as she resisted peeking, even if it was just a little bit.
"I'll be back in a sec." Rachel nodded, looking back to the other girl.
The sound of the door clicking closed was like the sound of a gun at the start of a race. If she was going to look, it was going to have to be fast.
Rachel was almost tripping over herself to get to her bed, banging her knees as she fell before where the box sat. Before she placed her hands on it, she paused. Her conscience nagging at her to not do it.
Then she heard Santana's voice murmuring through the door and the potential guilt stopped her altogether. She'd just have to leave it to Santana as to whether she'd share with her or not. She almost whined to herself.
Her ears pricked up again when she heard Santana's voice raise in tell-tale frustration, it soon dipped back to a low murmur and then it stopped.
Rachel quickly stood and threw herself onto the bed, tucking her arms behind her bed in a ploy to act casual.
Santana re-entered the room, pausing when she saw Rachel on her bed, lounging like she was on a beach somewhere sunny and not in her bedroom during a dreary winter in Lima.
"What are you doing?" Santana's voice was a little weak with tears that had been recently shed. She wiped a tear as her face split into an amused grin at the sight of Rachel's attempt at holding herself up to look at her - there being no pillows supporting her head or arms.
"I'm relaxing." Rachel said, her arms getting tired as she tried to hold her position.
That had Santana letting out a small chuckle, "You look sooo relaxed." She came to sit next to Rachel and gave her a small shove to stop her ab workout.
Rachel was thankful she could move her arms to pull a pillow down to lie on. "How was it?"
"It was okay. She was upset still, she said she would have come to get me but didn't know where you lived. She's been going a little crazy so I think she's just glad I got back to her." Santana smiled despite herself, picturing her mom getting all worked up in the car and ready to go, only to realise she had no clue where she was going. "Quinn is away and super hard to get a hold of so she wasn't sure who to call. But we've agreed to have a proper talk when I get back home. I told her I'm staying here tonight, but I'll go back first thing. Get out of your hair and you know, deal with my shit."
"Have breakfast at least, you're more than welcome to. And I'm pretty sure my dads like you." Rachel sat up and crossed her legs. She wasn't sure what more she could say in the moment and instead chose to pick at her duvet.
"They do? That's a first. Parents usually hate me. I don't get it, I'm hilarious and keep it real. What's not to like?"
"I couldn't possibly take a guess." The smirk itching at Rachel's lips made Santana smile in return. "So…"
"So?"
"Don't make me ask, please."
Santana was genuinely unsure as to what Rachel was getting at until the other girl leaned over the bed to pull the box out and plonk it between them.
"Oh! Oh, I see." Santana proceeded to pull it towards herself and lifted the lid slowly, watching Rachel's eyes follow her hands. She stopped just to see Rachel's face fall, her eyes flicking back up to meet Santana's amused gaze. "How hard was it not to look whilst I was out there?" She nodded her head to the door.
"Santana!" Rachel let out a scandalised gasp. "How could you ask such a thing? And of me! Your dear friend Rachel."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, drama queen. You've done better than me, I would have opened this bad boy before the door even shut on your way out."
"Oh," Rachel reigned in the indignation, "okay. I suppose I might as well admit it was quite trying."
Santana finally took the lid off and scooped the stack of envelopes that filled the box. It troubled her that this paper might have accounted for so many years of her life. Time that could have been spent with the dad she didn't know.
Shaking the thought out of her mind she tried to focus on the present. She took the one from the very top and saw her name written out in a neat, flowing script, she traced it with her finger, wondering if it was possible to inherit the way she wrote as she saw the similarities in her own handwriting. Turning it over, she ran her finger under the envelope's loose seam and pulled out a card that read "Have a Super 5th Birthday!" with a picture of a kitten in a cape on the front. The image made her think of Brittany's beast of a cat, she doubted it ever looked as cute as the kitten on the card, the thought fell away to memories of the birthday mentioned.
Santana had hated her fifth birthday. The distinct memory of being scolded in front of her friends and family by her uncle came to mind. She'd had a party in her back yard and her friends and family had come, it was one of the few occasions she'd been in the same space as so many of her relatives at once. The vivid image of her pink and purple playhouse and the memory of hiding in there because her family were strangers to her and her cousin James had snitched on her for shoving him, even though he deserved it, is what she remembered most. He'd thrown her doll into the tall hedges at the back of the yard. Even at that young age she remembered being pissed off. He was a little jerk. Probably still was.
She was still hiding when Jessica, one of her friends from kindergarten, snuck in too. The ruckus from outside was quieter and they could just hang out and play house in the bubble the playhouse created. Innocently enough, she was the dad and Jessica was the mom. And like she'd seen her friend's moms and dads do, they'd shared a small peck.
Her uncle had seen by chance, he must have been looking for her because of James and thought it appropriate to tell her quite loudly in front of everyone, that girls didn't kiss. That it wasn't right.
Santana felt the embarrassment like it was yesterday, she remembered she couldn't even lift her eyes for more than a second or two before they fell back to the floor. He'd ruined her birthday. And for what? She remembered that Quinn must've been there too. She wondered if she remembered it as vividly as she did.
The party carried on like normal after that, but it'd left a bitter taste in Santana's mouth that not even a piece of cake could make better.
"I hated this one." Santana said out loud, suddenly aware she'd probably been staring and leaving Rachel in further suspense. "Sucked major ass."
She opened up the card:
"Dear Santana,
How you are growing so fast! Not only yesterday were you a little baby in my arms. I wish to hold you again someday, to scoop you up and squeeze you until you pop!
Lots of love, Dad."
There was a heart and some kisses, a small note on the left side on the card, clearly left for her mom.
Santana read it and then reread it. That didn't sound right. Right?
"Can you read this and tell me what you think it means?" She handed Rachel the card.
Rachel's brow furrowed. "That they spoke? You'll have to check the others."
"But why didn't my mom say anything on the phone? She knows I have these."
"You'll have to ask her. Maybe it's something she needs to prepare for? I'm not trying to defend her or anything like that. But you being here gives her the chance to figure out what she needs to say."
"Get her story straight more like it," Santana grumbled. This was all such a headache.
She opened up a few more of the envelopes, all of them varying in purpose. Some were to wish her a happy birthday; others were for Christmas; Easter; and so on. She noticed they weren't consistent, a year or two missed every now and then, she wondered why that was. Lost in the mail? He forgot?
In every one was a message to her mom that it seemed to Santana that he must have gotten a response at least a couple of times. Did her mom know how to reach him?
She just hoped that tomorrow wouldn't be a lost cause and she could get the full picture.
…
Santana unlocked the front door as quietly as she could, hoping that her mom was asleep and she could take a minute to kick back in her room in peace. The warmth of the house was a welcome change to the snappy weather outside.
She took to the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, tossing her bag onto her bed and swiftly following once she reached her room.
She lay there until she felt herself falling to sleep, a knock at her door gave her the reminder that it wasn't time for a nap. Perhaps she wasn't as sneaky as she thought.
"Come in." She called, her voice muffled for having her face squished to her pillow.
Maribel hesitantly cracked open the door, as though she hadn't just gotten permission. She gave Santana a small smile, her eyes still a little red from the other night. "Hey," she croaked, coughing to clear her throat after she spoke.
Santana sat up and watched her mom as she came to join her on her bed. "So."
"So." Maribel looked at her daughter for a long minute, as though her stare could convey all of the words she wished she could communicate. "I understand there is a lot you want to, need to, know."
"You said you told him to leave and he never came back, but the cards, the everything. Did you speak to him after he left? Do you still speak?"
"It's complicated. Your father and I haven't spoken in a very long time. He would leave those notes to let me know how he was, he must've known I was worried. I was tempted to reach out, to try and find him, but in the beginning I was too scared of the consequence. I didn't want to be left to raise you by myself, without your abuela, without your family."
"But..."
"But I have spoken to him on the very rare occasion. Actually, I suppose we have spoken recently. I rang him last night. That box you have isn't everything, some stuff was addressed to me, though it didn't make much of a difference. You've never been bothered by what's been posted, you've never needed to be. I can't tell you how sorry I am. But as I said, I rang him. He'd sent me his number a couple of years ago and I've never made use of it."
Santana wasn't sure how to feel. All she knew was that curiosity was winning the battle of her current emotions. "What'd he say?"
Maribel had started crying again, she wiped her eyes and smiled through her tears. "He couldn't believe it, Santana. I thought he'd be angry with me, but he wasn't. I told him what happened, that you'd found out. He asked about you, he wants to meet you so badly."
Santana's heart had picked up, she felt like a little girl again. Eager for a father's attention that she never had. "He does?"
"He does." It's then that Santana noticed Maribel was holding a slip of paper. "This is his address, we spoke for a long while and we agreed that you could go and see him in the summer."
Santana read the paper, her eyebrows rising, "California?" Somewhere with sunshine at least. "But why not now?" Santana felt the frustration and anger from last night bubble inside of her, she couldn't help but feel this was so unnecessary, her not knowing for so long, having to come out to know the truth.
"Because you have to finish school Santana, I know you might want to laugh in my face for asking you of anything, but you have to know I want what's best for you. I want you to graduate, to get into the college of your dreams and have an education. Your dad agrees."
Santana scoffed. "Great, doesn't even know me and is telling me what to do already." Though the more she thought about it, it seemed like the smartest idea. Also, it gave her time to prepare herself. What if he was a weirdo? He may be her dad, but she'd met Quinn's dad and he wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs. On the other hand, what if he was the best thing since sliced bread? Either way, she nodded. "Okay, after graduation."
Maribel gave her a soft smile and patted her knee. It seemed like she didn't know what to say so Santana put her out of her misery.
"But Mom, I need to know why you didn't tell me earlier."
"I know, my love. I know. All I can tell you is that when it happened it made sense to me and I suppose it was easy to keep it the way it was. And even though telling you had occurred to me throughout the years, there were so many things I wasn't sure about. What would've been the right age to tell you that your dad wasn't accepted by our family? By the woman you adored more than anybody in your life? You might have asked why you couldn't see him and I wouldn't have an answer good enough. I'm sorry it took that horrible night for this to happen. But I want you to know I'm so proud of you, it was very brave of you."
Silence settled between them again. Santana's thoughts flitting between her dad and her abuela. There were a lot of uncertainties in her life, but there was something freeing about having the weight of telling her mom off of her shoulders. She could only hope her abuela would come to see her for the little girl she'd always known. To realise that nothing had changed.
"I will speak to her, Santana. You just focus on you and try not to let this weigh too heavily on your heart. Give her time, if she has any sense she'll come around."
Santana nodded and accepted the hug her mom gave her. The warmth and steady hold of her mom was something she'd missed, she held her a little tighter and was rewarded with her mom squeezing back.
"I'm going for NYU by the way," Santana smiled at the thought of living in New York with Quinn, hanging out in the city with Rachel and Kurt. "New York seems like my kind of place." She murmured into her mom's shoulder. She could picture the small apartment her and Quinn would share, how it'd be a blend of both of their styles. How they'd carve out a piece of their home for each other and do boring, domestic stuff together. It set her heart fluttering. She couldn't wait for her to get back. Then thought of Quinn gave her a bright idea.
Suddenly she pulled back, "Mom!"
Her sudden outburst made Maribel jump. "What?"
Santana's face broke out into a huge smile. "I have the best idea ever."
