Chapter 19: Bargaining
The familiar sounds of the nursing home bring an odd sort of comfort to her. This is a place she has visited frequently over the past five years. For almost two years she didn't visit because she was sick, but she went back to visiting after she entered remission. Rachel bites her lip as she realizes she hasn't visited since her second diagnosis. That's why they're here now. Jean knows she went into remission because she went back to visiting her. The kind woman was very happy to see her. Sue thinks it'd be best if Rachel herself tells her she's sick again and probably won't be around until she's better again. Rachel had tried to remind her that it hadn't gone very well the last time she had to tell Jean she was sick. Sue insisted that Jean understands the situation a little better now. Jean's face lights up when they walk in. It's impossible not to smile back. Sue and Rachel hug her hello and take seats. They chat about casual things for a couple minutes.
"Well, Jeanie, Rachel has something she'd like to talk to you about. I'm going to go talk to the nurses about fixing the blinds." Sue gives Rachel a pointed look.
Rachel returns her look with one of trepidation. Sue pats her shoulder as she passes.
"What did you want to tell me, Rachel?"
No point beating around the bush. Jean needs things said directly. "Do you remember when I was sick?"
"Yeah. I was worried. And Sue was sad. And then you got better!" She smiles.
"I did, yes. But now….now I'm sick again."
Jean looks at her in confusion. "But you got better. Sue said so."
"I did." She really doesn't know how else to explain this and she doesn't want to upset the woman. "It came back."
Jean's fingers twitch and her eyes jump around the room. "Sue said it was bad."
"It's bad."
"Are you scared?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
To anyone else, Rachel would scathingly ask 'why do you think?'. With Jean, extra care is required. She is genuinely curious why she's scared. "Because I don't like being sick. I know how much it's going to hurt and I don't want to feel that pain again. And I don't want to die. I don't want to leave my family."
Jean's face settles into one of absolute certainty and she smiles again. "That won't happen." Rachel frowns. She's really not sure how to respond to that without upsetting her. Thankfully Jean goes on before Rachel has to try to correct her. "You won't leave your family. It not possible."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you love your family?"
"Yes."
She nods. "And they love you. If you love them and they love you, then you will never really leave them."
"That's sweet." Sad, but sweet.
"Don't be scared. Pain doesn't last. Love does. So be happy."
A smile slowly creeps across her face. "Don't be scared, be happy?"
"Yes."
"It's that simple, huh?" If only that were true, Rachel thinks wistfully.
"Yes. You'll be fine."
Sue rejoins them after that and the three of them enjoy a pleasant evening of card games and friendly conversation.
XxxxxxxxxX
Rachel eyes her mother, trying to determine if now is a good time to bring up her idea. Well, Mike's idea. She and her friends see absolutely no reason why she can't just apply now and then wait to see what happens. If she gets in and she's well enough, she can go as planned. If she gets in but is still sick, maybe she can delay her acceptance. If she doesn't get in, she'll have time to figure out an alternate plan. Her mother seems calm, so she might as well bring it up now. She can't delay too long; applications are due in about two weeks and she's already waited a few days to bring this idea up. It just never seemed like a good time and she's worried her mom will still say no.
"Mom?"
"Hhmm?"
"I had a thought….about….New York."
Her mother breathes out a harsh breath and drops the dish towel, grabbing the counter. Rachel nervously watches her mom's hands grip the edge of the counter until they're a stark white, then release it. She gives her mom the moment she needs to gather herself. After a tense moment, her mom turns around to look at her with a blank face.
"Rachel, we've already discussed this. I'm not changing my mind about this."
"But I—"
"No."
"Mom! Just listen, please!"
"Enough! We're not arguing about this again."
"Wait! I was talking to my friends and—"
"Rachel! Stop! You're not going to New York and that is final! Stop bringing it up."
Shocked and hurt that her mom won't even listen to her, Rachel storms out of the kitchen with trembling lips. Tears blur her vision while she heads up the stairs. She wouldn't even listen. Her feet move faster and she slams her door shut. She doesn't care that she'll probably get in trouble; both for slamming the door and for shutting it at all. Why should she care about that when her mom won't even listen to her? She sits in the bay window and stares out at the light rain. Still upset, she texts her friends. They're sympathetic but have no ideas for how to get her mom to listen to her. She rests her head on the cool window pane and watches her breath fog the glass. In the two and a half years she has lived with her mom, she has always felt heard. This is the first time she truly doesn't and that hurts her feelings. She wipes away a stray tear and debates calling Uncle Burt. She really wants a hug but is too upset with her mother to ask her for one. The feeling of wanting a hug but unable to get one suddenly brings up memories of feeling like this years ago, when she was mostly living alone while her father was away or drunk. The fact that these two situations can be compared so closely hurts even more and the tears start up again. She's sick of crying. She's sick of hurting. She's sick of…..everything. Her palms sting. Looking down, she realizes that yet again she's digging her fingernails into her palms. Instead of stopping, she squeezes harder. The stinging sensation becomes more prominent. It's almost a relief to focus on that pain instead. Then again, thinking about how much her mom hurt her feelings makes her chest ache in a different way than her attacks. Her jaw is clenched shut.
Eventually, she curls up on her bed. Her room slowly grows darker as the sun sets. Downstairs, she hears her mom and Scott talking. He must be home from work. Good. Maybe he can distract her mom so she doesn't have to talk to her again today. There's a knock on her door, then it swings open.
"We discussed this as well, Rach. The door stays open."
Rachel doesn't bother responding. Her mother's proximity reawakens her need for a hug. The woman has been the very embodiment of comfort since entering her life. She could always go to her for a hug, even when she wasn't happy with her. She's been angry with her mom before. Her mom has been angry with her before. This is the first time her mom truly hurt her feelings. It is leaving her feeling unsettled and unable to reach out to her. Her mom sighs but doesn't come closer.
"Dinner is ready."
"I'm not hungry."
"You still need to come down to eat. Just eat as much as you're able."
"I'm not hungry."
"At least try. Please."
Normally, this is the point where she'd give in and follow her mother. This time, however, with her heart still stinging, she can't. Instead, she rolls over so her back is to her mom.
"Rachel. Let's go." Her tone is sharp.
As minor as it is, that tone on top of her already hurt emotions is like poking at an open wound. The tears start up again against her will. "I can't."
"What? What do you mean?" Her tone changing to one of concern, her mom comes closer and reaches out to place a hand on her head.
"No." The cry was soft, but her mom yanks her hand back anyway. Rachel curls up tighter.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
A sob bubbles out of her. She doesn't know? She doesn't realize? Somehow, that makes it worse. The ache in her heart grows.
"Rachel, what's going on? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"Leave me alone."
"Is this about New York?"
"Leave!"
"Don't take that tone with me. I understand why you're upset," doubtful "but you need to accept it."
She wants nothing more than to be held and comforted. What she's getting instead is just crushing her more. Barely able to speak, she sobs out her plea. "Please just go."
For a moment the only sound in the room is Rachel's shuddering breaths. Then, she hears the telltale sounds of footsteps receding. She's alone. She actually left. While it's what she wanted, a small part of her heart had been hoping her mom would see through it all and give her a damn hug. Alone, she cries into her pillow. A gentle jingle getting closer tells her Yero has entered the room. He jumps up onto the bed with her lays beside her. He rests his head on her arm and she presses her head to his. Her entire body is yearning to be held. She needs a hug and there's no way she's asking her mom for one. She picks up her phone.
"Rach?"
"Can you come over?" She's trying to whisper, but the tears clogging her throat make it come out mumbled.
"I'm on my way."
"Don't come to the front door."
"Why not?"
"I don't want my mom to know. I just….really need a hug."
"I'm coming." She can tell from the sounds in the background that he's grabbing his shoes and keys. "Where do you want me to go? Back door?"
Rachel peers out the window. "Do you think the trellis is strong enough for you to climb?"
He laughs. "Really? I mean, I can try. Could be fun."
"If it's dangerous, don't do it. I just…after I moved in here and saw the trellis outside the bay window, I started….daydreaming about you climbing in through my window." She's a little embarrassed to admit it.
He laughs again. "Is that so? In that case, I'll definitely give it a go."
They hang up so that he can drive safely. While waiting, she makes sure her room is clean, removes the screen from one of the windows, and tries to do a little homework. It's hard to focus, though, so she gives up. Finn sends her a text saying he's here. She leans out the window and waves down to him. He smiles up at her, then sends a text.
"Juliet, oh Juliet."
She giggles quietly and responds with a text of her own. "My Romeo. Climb to my balcony."
Finn slowly starts climbing up. The trellis wobbles at one point and Rachel holds her breath. If anything happens to him because she asked him to come over and climb up this stupid trellis, she'll never forgive herself. Once it is steady, he tentatively continues up. She breathes a sigh of relief when he gets safely through the window. She's pretty sure he did, too. Rachel practically throws herself into his arms. He catches her and holds her tight. Finally being hugged by someone who loves her causes everything she'd been holding in to come pouring out. Finn scoops her up and carries her over to the door. He doesn't close it all the way because he knows the rule, but he pushes it most of the way closed with his foot. Then he carries her to her bed. They lay together and Rachel cherishes the feeling of being held like this. Her quiet sobs slow to a sniffle. Finn rubs her back.
"You okay?" He whispers, mindful of the open door and her wish for secrecy.
"Yeah."
"What was that about?"
"She wouldn't listen, Finn. She just dismissed me and didn't even give me a chance to explain my idea. I know it's not the same, but it kind of felt how it did when I lived with my father. Unheard, rejected, alone. And I really needed a hug but—"
"But since she's the one who hurt your feelings, you didn't want a hug from her."
"Right." Beneath her ear, his heart beats a steady, soothing cadence. Her eyes begin to droop. "Thanks for coming, Finn."
"Always."
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
The hallway light is dim, conveniently hiding her tears. Shelby leans back against the wall next to Rachel's door, listening to her daughter. She'd come upstairs when she heard Rachel crying. Seeing Finn in her daughter's bed had startled and annoyed her, but she'd brushed it aside to focus on figuring out why Rachel was crying. She'd stayed just outside the door to make sure everything was okay and try to figure out what was wrong. Then, hearing Rachel admit that her tears were because of her broke her heart and filled her with guilt. When Rachel compared how she feels right now to how she felt living with her father, the guilt had become shame and horror. Her kid was feeling unheard, rejected, and alone. Because of her. She'd needed a hug but hadn't felt comfortable coming to her and had instead called her boyfriend. On the one hand, she does not like the idea of Finn entering her house without her being made aware. On the other hand, she's grateful the boy was here to comfort Rachel.
She waits until it is silent in the room and she's pretty sure Rachel is asleep to move. Shelby dries her cheeks, then peeks into the room. As she suspected, Rachel is asleep. She quietly opens the door and pads into the room. Finn jumps slightly in alarm, his eyes widening to a comical degree. She smiles at him softly and holds up a hand, trying to calm him. Without a word, she leans over him to stroke Rachel's damp cheek. She did this. She caused this. Her gut clenches and she presses her lips together firmly. Shelby presses a soft kiss to her forehead before standing.
"Come down to the kitchen, please." She whispers softly to her daughter's boyfriend. When he nods fearfully, she smiles. "You're not in any trouble."
"Is she?"
"No."
She watches him carefully maneuver out from under Rachel without waking her. She tries not to think about the many times he has done this in the past and the reasons why. They leave the door wide open and head downstairs. Scott sees Finn behind her and does a double take.
"Did I miss something?"
Shelby chuckles. "No. Finn snuck in. Speaking of which, how did you sneak in?"
The tall boy looks between silently. "I'd rather not say. No offense, but what if I need to again?"
The response mildly amuses Shelby. Scott looks disconcerted. "I'm glad you came to comfort her, but I do need to know how you got in without me realizing it."'
He shifts his weight. "Can I have your word that it won't be blocked?"
"No." She's amazed he was able to ask that with complete sincerity. "I can't promise that because I don't know how you got in."
"Right. Okay. Um, I climbed the trellis."
The adults blink. "What?" Scott's mouth hangs open. "I thought that kind of thing was just in movies."
"Well, it did wobble a little. I was thinking I could come back and put in a few screws to strengthen it up."
"Oh you were thinking that, were you?" Shelby's amusement at his gall outweighs her irritation.
"Yeah." Seeming to realize that saying this may have been a mistake, he quickly tries to change track. "Um, I mean….I was thinking that when I thought it'd be my and Rachel's secret way in. But now that you know….I mean, it'd be a good idea to strengthen it anyway. A bad storm could….uh….pull it…..down."
Scott is turning red from struggling not to laugh at Finn's fumbling defense.
"Finn, you can use the front door."
"Why didn't you use the front door?" Scott questions.
"Rachel asked me not to. She asked me to climb the trellis so that you wouldn't know I was here. She just really needed a hug. Honest to God, I was only coming over to hug her, let her cry it out, and then leave."
Shelby sits at the table and waves him to a seat as well. The teen sits stiffly. "I'm okay with you putting in a few screws to strengthen the trellis. But I don't like the idea of you climbing in and out of the house like that. For starters, it's dangerous. You could get seriously hurt if you fall. Or if Rachel climbs it, she could get seriously hurt. And I don't like the idea of anyone being able to come in and out of my house without me knowing. Do you understand how that makes me feel less safe? How it makes me feel that Rachel is less safe?"
It takes a minute of Finn clearly thinking hard before he nods. "I realize that the safest thing to do would be to take it down."
"I'm considering it."
"But you could also just cut off the bottom portion so that it can't be easily reached from the ground. Rachel really likes the trellis, so please don't take it down."
"I like it, too. I'll think on it, okay? We'll hold off strengthening it until I decide." He nods. Shelby drums her fingers on the tabletop. "I heard what she said after she stopped crying. What did she say before that? When you first got here?"
"Nothing. The moment I was through the window she threw herself into my arms and started sobbing. All she told me when she called was that she really needed a hug and asked if I could come over and asked me to climb the trellis instead of using the door. That's it."
"Okay. Thank you, Finn. You can go home, honey."
Scott clears his throat. "Out the front door, please."
Shelby grins slightly at Finn's sheepish nod. He's a good kid. Not very bright at times, but sweet and dedicated to her daughter. After hearing the front door click shut, Shelby drops her head into her hands.
"I caused it. She had an idea about New York and I dismissed her and wouldn't let her share it. She felt unheard, rejected, and alone. She needed a hug but wasn't comfortable asking for one from me because I caused it. This was my fault."
"Shelby, I hate to say it but this is normal. Parents hurt their kids feelings by accident. It happens."
"It's different with us. She was abused by her father. I was supposed to be the safe alternative."
"You are! You have been! Shel, accidentally hurting her feelings once in a blue moon is not the same thing as abusing her, not by a long shot! Stop letting guilt cloud your reasoning. In fact, didn't Burt tell us a story about one of the times he accidentally hurt Rachel's feelings?"
"Yeah, but I'm her Mom."
"And he's basically her Dad."
"I don't ever want to make her feel how Leroy did. Ever."
"I know that and I'm sure she knows that. You can make sure by talking to her about it tomorrow."
"I don't know how to make sure she can always come to me for a hug. Always."
Scott looks at her sympathetically. "You can talk to her about it, but that might be something out of your control. She knows she can always go to you for a hug. But it's also understandable that there'll be times she'll want comfort from someone else, for whatever reason."
"I know. And I know this technically isn't a big deal. However, with everything going on, it worries me."
"So leave the trellis up."
"What?"
"Obviously, Finn is willing to climb up there whenever Rachel asks. Leave the trellis up. We'll tighten it and strengthen it so he doesn't fall. Talk to Rachel about it and set some ground rules. We can take the trellis down if she breaks the rules. But by leaving it up, you're making it clear that even though she can always come to you for comfort, if she truly needs someone else, she has a way to let them in and get what she needs."
Shelby thinks about it. She'd rather Finn, or Kurt or whoever Rachel calls, use the front door. Last year she stopped locking the front door unless they were leaving or going to bed. That way, Rachel's friends could just come in. Should she go back to that? She sighs, hating not knowing what would be best. She wants Rachel to have whatever comfort she needs, from whomever she needs it from. However, she isn't certain how best to make it possible.
"Let's just go to bed. You can think on it for a few days. There's no rush."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Once again, Rachel is mopey at school. She'd woken up on the later side; her mom had gone into work early for a meeting, so she hadn't seen her yet. Rachel wasn't sure how to feel about that. Scott cooked her breakfast then took her to school. She missed first period, but arrived in the middle of Glee and joined the rehearsal for Nationals. Her friends had smiled in relief when she'd shown up, but Sugar merely rolled her eyes. She has another headache but isn't sure if its caused by stress or just a plain old headache that would have happened regardless. She pushes everything aside to focus on her classes and her friends. Holly invited her to spend her lunch in her classroom so that she wouldn't have to deal with the noisy cafeteria. They spent the time chatting and enjoying one another's company. After school, instead of heading to the choir room for rehearsal, Rachel went to the auditorium. She sat on a stool on stage and talked with her friends while waiting for the others to arrive. They were planning on giving Mr. Schue the final part of their "thank you" today and it's up to Sam and Puck to get him to the auditorium. Her conversation with Mercedes is interrupted by the sound of thundering footsteps drawing closer. The kids all look over at Mr. Schuester as he comes running into the auditorium looking worried and slides to a stop. The man charges up to Rachel and looks her over carefully, taking her arms in his hands.
"Are you alright? What's going on?"
Rachel blinks in confusion, her mouth falling open slightly. "What? I'm fine, why?"
Behind their teacher, Sam and Puck start sniggering. Mr. Schuester look between the boys and Rachel and his worry turns into anger. "Why would you do that?"
"What did they do?" Tina asks.
"They told me that Rachel was in the auditorium and something was wrong with her."
Rachel glares at the boys. "That's not what you were supposed to say!"
"You didn't tell us what to say! You just said to get him here!" Noah defends himself.
Sam nods. "We figured this would be the fastest and surest way to get him here. Of course anyone would come running if we said something was wrong with you."
"You morons." Santana mutters.
"There were other ways to get him here without terrifying him." Quinn reprimands.
Mr. Schue releases a long breath and runs a hand through his hair. "So you're really fine?"
"I am." Headache aside, at least. "I'm sorry they worried you. They were just supposed to get you here. Next time we'll leave it up to someone else."
He pats her shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay. But why were they supposed to get me here?"
Kurt smiles at him warmly. "You saved our lives at great risk to your own. You tackled an active shooter to protect us. We need to thank you."
"But you guys already thanked me. I got a very nice dinner and an adorable stuffed bear with 'hero' stitched on the back. Remember?"
"Those were good, but not enough." Blaine insists.
"Seriously." Artie adds on. "Those barely scratched the surface to show our appreciation for you."
"I don't need thanks. I got hugs from all of you and that's all I need. You guys safe and well."
"Mr. Schue," Rachel gently scolds, "that's sweet and all, but did you really think we'd leave it at that? We love you and wanted to make it clear how much. For some of
us, the best way we could express ourselves is through song. So we worked on this for you."
"So go take a seat and let us sing for you. Coach Sylvester's already got the camera rolling so you can have this recorded." Finn grins.
Smiling and already slightly teary eyed, Mr. Schuester walks down to take a seat front and center in the auditorium. Ms. Pillsbury, Coach Sylvester, and Coach Bieste are already sitting there waiting for him to join them.
Rachel starts them off.
"Those school girl days
Of telling tales and biting nails are gone
But in my mind
I know they will still live on and on"
Mercedes takes the next line.
"But how do you thank someone
who has taken you from crayons to perfume?"
Kurt sits with his legs crossed and gently swings his foot.
"Oh, it isn't easy but I'll try"
The entire group sings the chorus together.
"If you wanted the sky
I would write across the sky in letters
That would soar a thousand feet high
'To Sir, With Love'"
The others take turns singing the rest of the song, but finishing with the chorus together.
"The time has come for closing books
And long last looks must end
And as I leave
I know that I am leaving my best friend
A friend who taught me right from wrong
And weak from strong, that's a lot to learn"
"What can I give you in return?"
"If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start
But I would rather you let me give my heart
To Sir, With Love"
As predicted, Mr. Schuester is a blubbering mess by the end of their simple song. He walks down the line and hugs every one of them. The group spends a few minutes thanking him and making sure he knows how much they appreciate him. Their teacher is positively beaming as they all leave.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Quinn drops Rachel off at home after school. She hates to say it, but she's hesitant to enter her own home. She's not sure how to interact with her mother at the moment. She's still hurt, but at the same time she hates not feeling close to her mom. She realizes she's probably going to have to forgive and move on, just like she'd do with her father. Walking in, she finds her mom mopping the kitchen floor.
"Hey, honey. How was school?"
"Fine."
"Here, give me a minute to finish mopping this up, then I want to talk. I dropped the iced tea and I can't leave it or it'll get really sticky."
Rachel nods and drops her bag next to the couch, kicks off her shoes and sweater, and plops on the couch. Yero gives her a quiet woof and grabs her bag by the handles. She watches in amusement as he drags it to the foot of the stairs, where it's supposed to go before she brings it upstairs. Her mom pauses in the hallway to watch, cocking her head to the side.
"Did you teach him to do that?"
"No. He must have just picked up on where it belongs from how many times I've put it there."
"And how many times I've yelled at you for not putting it there."
Despite her slight unease, Rachel grins. "Oh, please. You didn't yell at me."
Her mom shrugs amicably. "Okay, so I told you sternly to put it there. Still, what does it say about this situation that your dog is better about putting your stuff away than you are?"
"I'm good at it!" At her mom's raised eyebrow, she amends her statement. "When I feel like it."
Her mom chuckles and takes a seat on the couch next to her, but turned so she can face her. Her expression becomes serious. "Honey, I need to apologize to you. I shut you down awfully fast yesterday."
"You didn't listen." Rachel mumbles.
"You're right. I didn't. I panicked."
"That didn't look like panic. You looked angry."
"Sometimes my panic takes the form of anger, like yesterday. But rest assured, I was panicking, not angry."
"Panicking about what?"
"You. I was very honest about what I said to you over the weekend. I would love to have you close by for the rest of my life. I don't like being far from you for long. If you were healthy, it would be really hard for me to let you go to New York. I'd do it, but grudgingly and only because I know how badly you want to go. But the fact of the matter is you're not healthy, Rachel. You should not be far from your doctors. And you absolutely cannot be away from people who can focus on caring for you. I feel terrible that you can't follow your dreams right now, I really do. I hate how much it upsets you that you can't go. I didn't want to discuss it again because I didn't want to upset you more by denying you again."
Rachel twists her shirt in her hands and thinks over her mother's words. "But it upset me that you wouldn't even listen. I felt….dismissed and unimportant."
Her mom takes her hand in hers. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. If we're being perfectly honest, the fact that you keep pushing for it even though you know why you can't go is frustrating. It's also upsetting to me that you're not putting your health first. Or trusting me enough to know that all of my decisions are based on what is best for you. Your well being comes first and foremost. The fact that you keep arguing and pushing for something that isn't in your best interest makes me feel like you don't care."
"Don't care about what?"
"About doing everything you can to get better. Or about how much the idea of you not getting better scares me."
"I care! I just…"
"You want to be able to do what you want to do."
Put like that, the entire situation seems childish. She shrinks down slightly. "Yeah. I do want to get better, Mom. And I really don't want to scare you."
"But you do. I understand you're unhappy with your situation and you don't want to face it. I get it. Every time you say something referencing possibly dying, it scares me. Every time you argue with me about what you can and can't do, it scares me."
"Isn't it normal for teenagers and parents to argue?"
"Yes," her mother concedes, "but our situation is different. Most of our disagreements haven't been about clothes or going to a party. Our arguments and disagreements have been major things regarding your health. You want to do things that aren't in your best interest because of your illness and you don't seem interested in doing what you have to do to get better."
"I take my medicine, I go to my treatments, and I go to my doctor's appointments."
"You do. But you're still trying to do everything as if you're not sick."
"Am I supposed to stop living?" That's not how she meant to phrase it, but she did mean the sentiment. She thought everyone would be happier and less stressed if she kept acting normal and mostly unaffected by her illness. It makes sense to Rachel that if she keeps living her life like normal and acting fine, everyone else will feel a little better about it. Apparently not.
"No! Of course not, Rachel. You're supposed to keep living, but at a slower pace, remember?"
"Yeah, but…doesn't that come later? I'm still in stage 1."
Her mom starts to respond, then stops and looks away. When she looks into her eyes, Rachel's a little unnerved by the calculating look in them. "True. But your symptoms have been hitting harder sooner this time, haven't they?"
Rachel's mouth goes dry. "Well…..only some."
"And you're hiding it again. Like last time."
"I'm not hiding it!" Not exactly. "I'm just not—"
"Hangnails. We're back to hangnails, kiddo. I need to know every little thing."
Which will defeat the purpose of making her mom think she's doing well. Rachel frowns. Maybe she needs to adjust how she handles this. Perhaps a better alternative is admitting to how she's really feeling but revealing it in a calm, casual manner. That way her mom knows her symptoms but she may feel less stressed about it if Rachel can act like she herself is not worried and it's not a big deal. She'll have to consider it.
"Fine."
"I promise to listen to you about anything. I need you to promise you'll tell me everything. Deal?"
"Deal."
Rachel leans into her mom, finally getting the hug she's been needing from her. Her mom is like a sponge, soaking up all of her excess emotion and helping her feel calmer.
"Okay, so I said I'd listen. I'll listen now. What idea did you want to tell me last night?"
Now that she's looking for it, it's fairly obvious that her mother has braced herself. Not wanting to make it worse for the woman, Rachel tries to phrase it as gently as possible. "What if…..what if I go into remission before the semester starts? Would I be able to go then?"
"Of course!"
"But I'd have missed the deadline." The way her mom's expression shifts tells her she already sees where this is going and is very, very hesitant. "What if I apply now and see if I even get in?"
Her mom scoffs lightly. "I'd be shocked if you didn't get in, Rach."
Pride blossoms in her chest, but she forces herself to be humble and not nod and agree with her. "Thank you. So, what if I apply now and then we….wait and see. If I get in and go into remission before school starts, I can go. If I get in but stay sick, maybe I can defer my acceptance a year. And if I don't get in at all, I can figure out a back up plan until I do get in."
Her mom runs a hand through her hair. Rachel can practically see the wheels turning her mind as she thinks everything over. She gives her time to consider it.
"I'm not against it." Rachel bites back a retort about how obviously she is against it, because she's clearly trying not to. "However, I am worried about one aspect of it."
"What?"
"If you apply and get in, but are too sick to go, would that be harder for you emotionally than waiting until you're better to apply?"
"No, not at all!" Rachel insists eagerly. "Of course I'll be upset if I end up not being able to go, but it wouldn't be nearly as upsetting as not even getting to try. Knowing I have a plan in place and can follow my dreams if my health allows it makes me feel better."
"Now, but what about when it's August and Kurt heads to New York and you have to stay here because you're too sick to go?"
"If that happens, I'll be upset. I'll cry and possibly throw a fit. But I still think it'd be better to know I had the chance and could still follow that path when I'm better than miss out entirely! Think about it! What if I don't apply but get better soon? Then I'll be healthy and capable of going, but I won't get to because I didn't apply."
"If you get better soon, you could still apply."
"The deadline is next week, Mom. If I get better before the fall semester starts, but never applied or missed the deadline, I'll be devastated." That's putting it lightly.
Her mother taps her fingers on her thigh and stares at her with an inscrutable look. Rachel squirms, trying to wait patiently. Finally, her mother releases a sigh and gives her a small smile.
"Alright, Rachel. You can apply."
Rachel leaps off the couch with a happy squeal and dances in place. Her mom laughs and lets her celebrate. When she sits back down with a huge smile, her mother frames her face with her hands.
"But I need you to really hear me." Rachel nods enthusiastically. "My allowing you to apply does not mean you are definitely going to be able to go if you get in. NYADA requires auditions. If you are not well enough to audition, you will have to turn them down. If you audition and get in but are still sick before the school year starts, you will not go. Do you understand me?"
She does her best to compose herself so that she can show how seriously she's taking this. "Yes, mom. I understand." Then she grins. "I accept your terms."
Her mom laughs and pulls her into a hug.
"I have to go tell Kurt!"
Rachel grabs her phone and hurries upstairs. Her brother is thrilled and promises to head over soon. When he arrives they go through each other's applications to make sure they're complete and look as good as possible. Then, grinning and thrumming with excitement, they submit their applications online. Kurt stays for dinner and the two teens happily clean up for the adults. The two spend the rest of the night talking excitedly about their auditions, NYADA, New York, and Nationals. They fall asleep curled up on Rachel's bed with smiles on their faces.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Kurt shuts his locker with more force than necessary before starting down the hall. Last night had been so much fun that the morning's events felt like a huge let down. The drop from such a high to such a low made his stomach curl and his mood deteriorate. His stepbrother walks up to him with a grin.
"Hey, man. How was last night?"
"Good."
Finn frowns at his lackluster response. "Um, okay. Where's Rach?"
"She's not coming today."
"Why not?"
"She's sick."
Finn opens his mouth, then pauses. "So like…..normal sick?"
"Yeah. I woke up early because I was overheating. She was sleeping against me and burning up. I woke up Aunt Shelby and we put cool compresses on her. We tried to wake her up to give her medicine, but she immediately started crying and fell back asleep really fast. From how her cries sounded, we think she has a sore throat. Aunt Shelby's staying home to take care of her today."
"That sucks."
Kurt snorts. "Yeah, it does. I hate seeing her so miserable. It brings up memories of last year and how bad it got."
Finn claps a hand on his shoulder. "She'll be fine, bro. She's only in stage one and has a cold or something."
"I know."
They go their separate ways. Ms. Holliday is still subbing for Mrs. Andrews and frowns when Kurt enters the room alone.
"Kid, you look like someone kicked your puppy."
"Rachel's sick. She's not coming today."
"I'll give you the work she misses, but let her know not to worry about finishing it right away. She can turn it in whenever."
"Thanks."
They spent Glee working hard on their Nationals routine. They have the one number down, but are still determining the second group number. Kurt spent their breaks contemplating Blaine's recent odd behavior. He's been extra attentive and extra sweet lately. It should just be nice, but since Blaine won't explain his slight change in behavior, Kurt is worried about what's going on with his boyfriend. Good changes are still changes and changes often set Kurt on edge. He'll have to talk it over with Rachel and Mercedes to see if they have noticed anything different with the ex-Warbler.
XxxxxxxxxxxxX
Unfortunately, Rachel was sick for several days and missed the rest of the week of school. It was just a cold, but her fever was high enough the first two days to keep her bedridden and mostly sleeping. Her mom kept waking her to force medicine down her throat or force her into a cool bath to lower her temperature. She hated it and fussed, but didn't actually fight her. Well, she started to fight her but Scott was home and threatened to bring her outside and hose her down with cold water in the cold air if she didn't get in the lukewarm tub. Rachel honestly wasn't sure how serious he was and decided not to risk it. She did grumble at him and call him a few unkind names, which only served to make him laugh. While she was miserably soaking in the tub, Scott ran out and got her a strawberry shake. Her mom shook her head at them, but was smiling the whole time. What made it even funnier is the fact that Rachel lost her voice, so anything she said came out as a thin, raspy whisper.
Since she was home for several days, she ended up being part of their conversation about their wedding. Her voice is mostly back but does fade in and out occasionally. They decided to marry over the summer. They're still up in the air about July or August, but at least they've narrowed down their timeframe now.
"I don't want a big fancy wedding. I only want my family and closest friends there. I don't want to invite coworkers or people I'm not close to. Let's keep it small."
Scott grins. "Small works for me. I don't have a big family or tons of friends like you two."
"So that means we can look for a small venue and keep it fairly casual."
"Are you sure, Shel? Don't most girls dream of a fancy wedding?"
Rachel nods. "Most do. I do." She turns to her mom. "Does that fade as you get older? Is it just younger girls that want a big fancy wedding?"
Her mom laughs. "Thanks for calling me old. I think it's mostly about the person, but it can also change as you get older. Your tastes and interests change and mature. In my last, brief engagement I was planning a big, fancy wedding. Now, though, that stuff just isn't important to me. Don't get me wrong, I still intend to wear a fancy white dress and I want you in a tux, Scott. But aside from my Dad walking me down the aisle, I'm not worried about following all wedding traditions. It should be fun and simple."
Rachel's gut twists. She remembers her dads teasingly arguing over who would get to walk her down the aisle, since she has two dads. They'd decided that one of them would walk her down the aisle and the other would get the first father/daughter dance with her at the reception. After her Daddy died, it occurred to her that it'd be up to her Dad to do both. No more questioning who would do what. Now, neither will be here for her wedding. That is assuming she lives long enough to even get married. Maybe none of them will get to experience her wedding. Her eyes water and she blinks them away and looks down. She doesn't want to make this conversation about her, nor does she want to upset her mom. When she's dry eyed, she looks back up and tunes back into their conversation.
"—direction you want to go. More fun or more simple? There are tons of fun ideas that could be great, but not simple. We could do very simple and quick, but that could rule out a lot of fun options." Scott is saying.
Her mom shrugs. "I don't know. Scott, I just want to marry you. I'd be fine with just heading to the courthouse and marrying you before a judge."
"What? No! Mom, you need an actual wedding!" Rachel coughs to clear her throat.
Scott nods. "I agree. An actual wedding."
"That is a wedding!" Her mom argues. "And as long as Rachel and my parents and siblings are there, I really don't care about anything else!"
Rachel pushes down thoughts of what the wedding would be like if she died first or had died last year. "Seriously, Mom. If you don't want a traditional fancy wedding, then it should be fun."
"Well, what are your ideas?"
She shrugs and pops a throat lozenge into her mouth. "I don't know. It's your wedding! What do you want?"
Her mom tosses her hands up in exasperation. "I just said what I want! I just want to marry him with you there. That's it."
Rachel bites her lip before sharing her idea. "Well…..you asked me what trip I wanted to go on and we never really planned anything." Her mom's expression falters, so Rachel hurries on. "What if you have a destination wedding? Then, it'd kind of have to be a small wedding and you'd have an excuse not to invite your coworkers."
"Now there's an idea." Scott grins. "We could pick a place all three of us are interested in visiting, then just invite family and close friends. We could even have our honeymoon there."
"I like that idea." Her mom smiles, squeezing Rachel's hand.
The rest of their discussion focused on where they should go for the destination wedding. They pulled up their laptops to start searching for good places. It was fun and Rachel felt special to be included and helping choose. She knows the main reason she's getting to help pick is because it is at least partially a trip for her, as well. After her second diagnosis and meltdown, her mom had brought up the idea of them going somewhere. They never came back around to that topic until now and the timing of the wedding and summer break are coinciding to make it simple to combine the two. It's a fun discussion and Rachel makes sure to keep it positive and focus it on their wedding and what they want. She can help approve or veto ideas, but wants the final decision to fall on them. While part of the trip is for her, she still thinks it should mostly be about them and their wedding. Which is why she insisted that once they start their honeymoon, she can stay with Uncle Burt or her grandparents and give them time alone as a newly married couple. Her mom was hesitant and simply said they'd play it by ear.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"Alright, so we'll go back to what we did the past two years." Quinn announces to the group.
The others nod their agreement. Rachel looks around at them, wracking her brain for what they're talking about. She thinks she knows, but wants to be sure.
"What do you mean?"
Tina turns to her. "We'll stay away from you if we don't feel well."
"And we'll stay home from school if we have even a slight fever or other signs of being sick." Artie grins easily.
"Already?"
"Well, it seems like your medication is already weakening your immune system. We don't want to make you sick by passing you a cold or something." Mike insists.
"I….thank you, but I'm only stage 1. Didn't we not start that until I was stage 2?"
"Tell that to your body." Kurt snarks. "You're stage one but you were just out for a week from a bad cold."
Rachel's reply is cut off by Puck. "Relax, Jew-babe. We're more than happy to get to stay home from school 'cause we've got the sniffles."
The others nod happily. "It's a win-win!" Finn says with a grin.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Fine. But seriously Noah, you need to go to class so that you can pass and graduate with us." He frowns and opens his mouth. Rachel wags her finger at him. "I will be very disappointed in you if you don't graduate because you chose not to go to class or do your assignments. You're more than capable of doing the work."
Puck's mouth snaps shut and he stares at her in disbelief. She ignores some of the others who are teasing her for sounding like a mom. She meant it and wants him to know it. After a moment of holding her gaze, his expression becomes serious and he nods. Satisfied, she sits back in her seat. They spend class agreeing on their second number. She's glad they don't have Glee after school today because while she's better, coming back to a full day of school after being out a week is tiring. She wants to go home and relax. She's in her last class of the day when the teacher gets a call on the classroom phone asking her to send Rachel to Sue's office. She shrugs at Santana, gathers her stuff, and follows the Latina out of the room. They're also back to not letting her walk alone in the hall in case an attack hits.
"Did you do something to get in trouble?" Her friend questions.
"No."
"Did you forget about an appointment?"
"No. At least I don't think so."
"Are you falling behind in any of your classes?" Apparently they're going to play 20 Questions.
"No!"
"Did you—"
"San, I have no idea what this is about. Maybe Sue just wants to talk."
"Hm."
Santana drops her off at the door and watches her walk into the cheerleading coach's office before returning to class. Rachel's confusion grows when she finds her mother sitting with Sue.
"What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"Sit down, mini-Streisand." Sue's tone unsettles her. So does the look on her face.
Rachel sits next to her mom, who takes her hand. She hates this set up. They're making it clear she's about to get bad news, but why would Sue be the one to give it? If it's her mom breaking the news to her, then why is she doing it here and now? She'll be home soon enough.
"Berry, I'm….." Sue composes herself. "Rachel. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Jean passed away over the weekend."
She feels blindsided. Sure, Jean had been getting sick more frequently lately and she's getting older, but to die? She just saw her last week! Rachel doesn't understand.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. I know you two were friends for a while."
The end of her sentence stings, but she can't deny that it's true. When Rachel was healthy, she would volunteer regularly at the nursing home Jean lived in. She went regularly from seventh grade to the start of tenth grade. Obviously she had to stop going when she got sick, but she started going back to visiting when she went into remission. Then again, she only visited her once since her second diagnosis, and that was only because Sue wanted her to tell Jean about it herself. Guilt curdles her stomach. Memories of the kind, happy woman flood her mind while tears flood her eyes. Now that she knows, she can tell how upset Sue is about losing her big sister.
"I'm so sorry." Rachel throws her arms around the cheerleading coach.
XxxxxxX