SIX DAYS TO GO!
Friday afternoon
Blushing Brides Bridal Shoppe
Quinn stood in front of the huge mirror that Rachel, Santana and Brittany had stared into in horror just four days ago, wearing her dupioni silk wedding dress. Santana and Brittany were standing on the other side of Quinn, pinkies linked and smiling in admiration. Or maybe it was relief that Quinn had firmly told her mother to go find something else to do, claiming this particular time as bridal party only.
The attendant gently handed Rachel the delicate tiara, made of white gold curlicues and flowers (22 carats - Terri had, once again, insisted. The only reason it wasn't 24 was that the jeweler had told her it wouldn't support the veil). Rachel gently placed it on Quinn's head, and Angela (they'd finally given up on professional distance after the Dresses of Doom episode) skillfully attached the elbow-length veil.
Quinn performed a three-quarter turn, and laughed in delight. "It's perfect! I'm going to be perfect!"
Rachel couldn't help but smile at Quinn's joy. Despite the horror show her life had become thanks to Quinn's dream wedding, she did love her sister, and it felt good to see her so happy. Also, Quinn was right; the dress, with its modest neckline, lantern sleeves and full, frothy skirt was perfect – for her.
For herself, though? Rachel wanted something – well, more dramatic, as befitted her personality. Maybe something reminiscent of the 1940's, when Broadway's Golden Age had begun? Or maybe with a bodice like the one on the lovely wine-colored dress she'd worn to Carole and Burt's wedding; even fashion-oblivious as he was, Finn would recognize something about the cut, and it would bring back good memories for him. She definitely wanted gold stars on the dress, though, either as appliqué or embroidery.
This was only one of the reasons she was glad to have a talented fashion designer as her best friend.
Rachel looked at Quinn's veil critically. Definitely not. Firstly, she didn't want anything between her and Finn on their wedding day, not even for a moment, and since Finn didn't seem to realize that he'd grown out of his clumsiness (though not, unfortunately, his gracelessness on the dance floor), he would probably be terrified of ripping the veil. It would be Finn's day, too, and she wanted him to be comfortable. Second, even if it wasn't on the Bellagio's terrace, Rachel wanted an outdoors ceremony – either in Central Park or Lima's Faurot Park (maybe with the reception in the concert pavilion?) and if the day was windy she'd spend half her time pulling the veil out of her face.
By then, she'd probably have grown her hair out to the length it was when she started high school... maybe a barrette, shaped like a gold star – no, three smaller ones in a row – to hold back the top part of her hair, with either a flower attached or maybe even a small vine of silk flowers trailing down the main part of her hair?
Rachel resolved to ask Kurt to put the idea in his wedding notebook for future reference. They could discuss it once they knew the wedding was actually going to happen.
Rachel was brought back to the present by Quinn's voice.
"I'm glad the old lace shade works. I always dreamed I'd be married in white, but that's impossible now, thanks to Puck."
Rachel was very glad her face wasn't reflected in the mirror right then.
Quinn's Christian beliefs had always been important to her – ostentatiously so, back in high school, including celibacy before marriage. But Quinn didn't sound regretful – she sounded smug. Not only that, Rachel's trained ear had caught a certain... timbre, in the way she said Noah's nickname. Maybe she was imagining things, thanks to what she'd seen last night? But either way, Rachel was still deeply suspicious of Quinn's facade. Cold feet was a common phenomenon among brides, but no truly committed bride had mysterious late-night assignations with another man – not to mention, a man who she'd been involved with sexually, against all her loudly-proclaimed beliefs, and had been subsequently disgraced by it becoming known publically. Not to mention, Rachel had sometimes caught a flicker of expression on Noah's face that made her wonder if he was as really past his intense but short-lived teenage relationship with Quinn as he claimed.
At the risk of sounding like a Bronte sisters heroine, Rachel was aware of a vague sense of lurking dread. As well as an increasing sense of doubt about a decision she'd previously made.
Rachel wanted a cream or magnolia shade wedding dress herself, because she fully intended to be ineligible to wear white. Just because she wanted to wait until they were both established in their chosen careers and confident in their adulthood to make a ceremonial and legal commitment to Finn, she saw no reason to wait to commit herself to him physically. In fact, she thought it would make their wedding preparations easier, knowing that they'd already worked out all the kinks of their life together, so to speak.
But if virginity was so inconvenient that even Quinn was more satisfied to be without it, then... was she being silly, waiting? Rachel was still a virgin because she'd chosen to be; because she wanted her first time to be with Finn. She'd intended her maidenhead to be a gift to him, both to prove her commitment to her love for him and to show just how long she'd known they were meant to be together. Would he cherish her virginity, and be gratified that she'd waited for him? Or would he just be uncomfortable with her lack of experience, and nervous about initiating her into lovemaking?
Santana's voice broke her out of her contemplation, "I can't believe Puck's going to be a groomsman at your wedding, for fuck's sake."
Brittany tilted her head and commented, "I'm just glad he's still alive. Your Mom really doesn't like him. Sort of like the way Lord Tubbington always turns his food bowl upside down if the tuna isn't dolphin-safe."
Rachel frowned as she dug her phone out of her pocket. "I'm just stepping outside for a moment," she excused herself.
Quinn was too busy admiring her perfect reflection to notice.
Rachel leaned against the cool bricks of the building, letting the frosty air cool her heated face for a moment, before punching the speed dial of her phone. As she listened to the ring, she let herself slide down the wall. Slumping onto the cold ground, she waited with bated breath for the one voice she wanted – and needed – to hear at that moment.
"Hello?"
"Tell me it's worth it."
"Rachel? What's going on? Where are you?" Finn's voice was loaded with concern.
"I'm at the bridal shop with Quinn, Santana and Brittany. Quinn's obsessing over her dress and lack of virginity and I just couldn't take it anymore."
"Um, her lack of virginity?" Finn asked, unsure of just what Rachel meant by that.
"You know how important the Celibacy Club and Christian Crusaders were to her, so I always thought she'd be upset and ashamed that she technically isn't allowed to wear white on her wedding day, but she's not. She sounded almost – well, smug, when she was talking about losing her virginity to Noah. She doesn't regret it at all." She hesitated, aware that she could be about to bring up a sore point, before asking, "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Do you regret your first time being with Santana?" The words came out quietly, and if Finn hadn't been listening so carefully, he might have missed them.
Finn replied instantly, not even needing to think about his answer. "Hell, yeah. I thought I'd feel so great after, like a stud, but I felt nothing, and I knew right away it was because she meant nothing."
"So you wish you had waited for the right person?"
"Definitely. It would have meant so much more, you know?"
"I do. That's how I've always felt. I know I'm ready, I'm just waiting for the right person." Rachel thought it best not to add that he was the right person for her.
"Well I can guarantee that if you find someone who'll mean something to you, it'll make the experience that much better for both of you." He sounded almost bitter as he continued, "Trust me, I know. For Santana, it was just her working towards her goal of bedding the entire football team by the time she graduated high school."
Almost instantly, a long ago memory popped into her mind, one from the first year of Glee club. She'd been passing Quinn's bedroom door, and she hadn't been eavesdropping, but it was kind of hard not to hear Finn's yelling.
"Let me get this straight - you have sex with my best friend while you're dating me, and you expect me to forgive you and take you back. You find out I slept with someone after we break up, and you decide I'm not good enough for you? What, did you think my virginity would make up for the fact you don't have it anymore?"
"Rachel, get back in here!" Quinn called from her doorway. "I need you to practice fixing my train."
Rachel sighed. "I have to go. I'm needed back in bridal hell."
Finn chuckled at her words. "Good luck."
* MOH *
Several hours later, Quinn's flashy red car pulled into the driveway of their home. As they walked up to the front door, they saw that Rachel's Golf had been blocking their view of another, older-model vehicle.
"Wait, stop," Rachel told her in alarm. "That's Mother's car. What's she doing here?"
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Um, visiting us?"
"But Emma's at her group therapy session, and Dad's car isn't here either. How did she get into the house?"
Quinn frowned as she unlocked the front door. "How did she get – never mind. Emma told me this morning that her car was making funny noises, so she was going to borrow Dad's car and not to expect him to run errands, and he was going to be incommunicado anyway, while he works on stuff for Regionals."
Rachel frowned to herself. "We really need to get the playlist settled by the end of next week. At least we're not doing Metallica."
Maybe she and Dad could work on it during their trip to New York next week? They'd had to cut it down to a day trip, because of the wedding, but there was still the drive to Columbus and the plane ride. She'd been awarded a solo, with Mercedes and Tina performing a duet, and Leah, Paula and Tyler featured on the group number. Kurt had sulked a little while, before realizing that this practically guaranteed him a solo spot at Nationals. It wasn't conceited to think that New Directions would be heading to Nationals, either; Dalton Academy had an excellent soloist in Blaine, but due to their acapella delivery all their songs tended to sound the same, and Aural Intensity was far behind both of them vocally, depending on playing to the judges (Rachel was convinced they had a contact in the Show Choir Events office, who tipped them off as to who was judging every heat they entered).
"Metallica? Are you serious?" Quinn asked as they walked down the hall. "No, wait, don't even tell me. Just tell me that the members of New Directions singing at the reception are keeping strictly to the set list I chose."
Rachel grinned. "Never fear. I even worked out a new arrangement of 'I was born to love you' for your bridal dance. Dad's been coaching Artie personally on 'Butterfly kisses' for your father-daughter dance."
"There you are!"
With a silent sigh, Rachel automatically braced herself as she turned to face her mother, seated on the couch and looking as ominous as one of the Fates from Greek mythology.
"I had to work this morning, and guess who came in? Sandy Ryerson."
"Well that's no surprise," Quinn answered. "Wasn't he the first person in Ohio to reach ten thousand points on his Sheets 'n' Things loyalty card?"
"He also lives across the street and two houses down. Which was why, when he was woken by a muscle car trying to break the sound barrier last night, he went to his bedroom window to see who was driving."
"Does he keep his binoculars on the bedside table with the pornography, or by the window?" Rachel asked dryly.
"Neither. He only needed his glasses to recognize you, Rachel. As well as who was driving the car. It's not as if there's many people in Lima sporting mohawks, after all."
Rachel went cold all over, as a single icy thought ripped through her mind.
That was why Quinn had needed her things, the jacket and cap that were so easily identified as Rachel's.
Her coldly furious gaze met her sister's, and Quinn went pale in realization.
Her mother strode across the room, standing in the wide gap between Rachel and Quinn, and faced her younger daughter.
"Noah Puckerman, of all people! Your sister is getting married in six days!" Terri's eyes narrowed, and she spat, "At this exact time six days from now, we will be in the Top Hat Ballroom of the Lima Grand Hotel, and everyone in the room will be talking about what a beautiful wedding it was, and how wonderful the reception is, and how they don't know how I did it all. They will not be uttering a single syllable about how my underage daughter has been slutting around town with the biggest man-whore in Lima!"
Rachel froze, as the implications rushed through her mind. She had an alibi – Finn would be able to confirm he'd brought her home, as well as what time. If pressed, Sandy would have to admit he'd identified her by her jacket and cap, not her features.
But Quinn? How would Terri react if she realized that the wedding she'd become obsessed with was being endangered – by just about the only person in the production who couldn't be replaced?
Even as Rachel looked at Quinn, looking for a cue, she realized that it didn't matter anyway. Rachel, with her deep emotional needs, her drive for greatness and passion for music, had always been her father's daughter in more ways than one. But Quinn had always been the daughter that Terri wanted.
It wouldn't do any good to defend herself. Her mother would never believe it.
"You can act like a tramp on your own time. This is your sister's wedding, and it will be perfect! Until Quinn leaves on her honeymoon, there will be no more late night backseat bops, no Noah Puckerman and no chance of a scandal. Until the morning of March 9, consider yourself on lockdown. Unless you are on the grounds of McKinley High or chaperoned by your sister or myself while doing something useful to contribute to her wedding, you don't leave this property, do you understand me?"
Rachel felt herself go even colder, if possible. Drawing on every ounce of maturity she possessed, she took a deep breath and made her voice cool and reasonable as possible.
"Mother, I have necessary arrangements for March 7. I daresay you don't remember-"
"No, I don't – and I don't care. The wedding is far more important than whatever pointless teenage plans you want to waste your time with. This is the foundation of your sister's entire life."
Rachel felt something tear inside her, as if an invisible hand had pushed into her body and ripped out an organ. Oddly enough, it didn't really hurt, as frost instantly coated the raw bed of flesh that had once held something living and vital. Maybe because she'd lost something that wasn't really very important to her anymore.
Rachel gazed calmly and coolly at the virago in front of her, and saw nothing but an annoyance. She was simply an obstacle to be overcome on the way to her glittering future on the Broadway stage.
"I think you should go now," she informed the intruder. "I believe the rightful occupants of this house have made it clear that you're not welcome here."
Terri spat, "School, this house, or wedding activities. Nowhere else."
Storming past Rachel, she paused only to snap at Quinn, "Don't get drunk in Columbus. I don't want you looking tired or sick in the wedding photos."
Then the door slammed like a thunderbolt, leaving Rachel and Quinn staring at each other across the living room.
Rachel looked Quinn dead in the eyes. Even as her sister's mouth was opening to utter of a denial of what they both knew was true, Rachel remarked, "If you're going to the effort of stealing my clothes in order to frame me for your infidelity, don't you think it would have been wiser not to use a car so noisy it wakes up half the street? Or... was this your intention, Quinn? You just don't want me to get out of Lima, because – what? You're jealous? Or just because it makes you look less pathetic?"
Rachel was no longer cold; she was burning up with fury. Step by step, she advanced on Quinn, backing her deeper into the living room.
"I didn't say anything at my seventeenth birthday party, when Sam's mother – who I'd never even met before – got into a huge fight with Terri about using dahlias or carnations in the floral arrangements for the ceremony, and ruined the party that she wasn't even invited to! I didn't create a public scene when I found out that Terri actually suggested that Dad use my college fund – that Daddy and Papa set up for me! - to pay for the reception, so she could get those stupid ice sculptures! 'After all, Rachel's so smart she'll get a scholarship anyway!' " Rachel mimicked. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she raised her arm and pointed her finger at Quinn, right at her nose. "You want to stay in this cesspit of civilization for the term of your natural life? Fine. Your choice. You want to spend your life as a real estate agent while running the governing board for the Chastity ball, and having a whole lot of middle class housewives who think they're rich bitches grovel before you? Fine. Your choice. But I'm not. I have real talent, and the determination to make a success out of it."
In her fury, Rachel's voice deepened to her lowest octave, and she stepped forward until she was deep into Quinn's personal space – and Quinn actually backed up, until she was against the wall. "I will not lose my dream. I will not sacrifice my future, because you couldn't keep your legs shut until after you signed the contracts to secure your eternal Trophy Wifehood."
For the first time in – well, ever – Quinn actually looked slightly afraid. Of Rachel!
In normal Rachel style, she would storm out of the room in her most epic fashion. But instead, she simply turned and walked away in dead silence.
When she reached her bedroom, she locked the door, and grabbed her phone.
* MOH *
Twenty minutes later, Tina was knocking at her bedroom window, being the only one agile enough to climb up the trellis and scramble across the porch roof. (On the rare occasions Rachel snuck out, Kurt had always refused to risk his clothes on the rose thorns.) Rachel all but dived out the window, and they ran through the garden to the back gate. Kurt was standing beside his Explorer, with Mercedes and Finn.
"From the sounds of your message, I thought I should rally the troops," Kurt explained. "I would have called Artie and Mike as well, but I got the impression that speed was of the essence."
Rachel nodded grimly, and scrambled in the backseat after Mercedes. Kurt bit his lip and tossed the keys to Finn, before joining the two fellow members of 'Team Diva', while Tina took shotgun.
As the car turned the corner, Kurt asked briskly, "So, where to? Tokyo Connection? The karaoke bar normally shuts down at ten, but I think we can bribe the owner to let us use it for a few hours."
Rachel was still white with fury, and shook her head. "Singing this out won't help."
Finn slammed on the brakes, before he joined everyone in the car in staring at her in horror.
"The entire Nightwish and Pantera back catalogue combined wouldn't get me through this."
Kurt's jaw dropped, and he went even paler than normal.
"I need to smash something. I need to shatter and break and destroy."
Finn swallowed. "I've got an idea."
* MOH *
Half an hour later, Rachel stood in the batting cage at McKinley High School, one of the JV baseball team's helmets on her head, while Finn placed his hands over hers on the grip of a silver baseball bat.
"Okay, I've set the machine to fire right into your strike zone, so you can get the best possible hit. Just keep your eye on the ball, and don't swing too soon. Keep the label facing up, or you'll break the bat."
Rachel's tuneful voice was tight and hard, and it made something hurt inside him. "Better get into the dugout with the others. I'm in the mood to hit a few wild balls."
Finn nodded, and ran out to where he'd set up the pitching machine. After putting it on a one-minute delay, he headed for the home team dugout, where Tina, Mercedes and Kurt were waiting. He sat down next to Kurt, and joined the others in staring out the window in trepidation.
"I set the machine for thirty balls. If she hasn't hit it out by then, we'll try something else. After about fifteen, she should start feeling the burn in her shoulders, because she's not used to this, so maybe that will help too."
"How'd you even get the equipment, anyway?" Kurt asked.
Finn shrugged. "Last summer, I helped Coach Bieste with the pre-season as a volunteer coach. I never got around to giving back my keys."
Tina bit her lip. "What the h-h-Hell is going on, Kurt?" Tina's stutter had disappeared freshman year, somewhere between Sectionals and Regionals. That it was actually resurfacing now showed just how upset she was.
A second hollow 'thwock' followed by a 'crack' echoed across to them.
Mercedes shook her head, and looked at the others. "I'm starting to get really scared, guys. I mean, our first Sectionals, when Coach Sylvester leaked our set list? Rachel was angry, yeah, but she just fired up and helped you," she nodded at Finn, "organize our last-ditch effort. And she nailed 'Don't rain on my parade' so hard that she carried along the rest of us in her wake to one of our best shows ever!"
A hollow 'thwock' followed by a 'crack' echoed across to them.
Kurt pulled out his phone, and brought up Rachel's message. "She just wrote 'Defcon 1 and rising. Get me out of here or I'm going to conduct a full dress rehearsal of Lizzie Borden: the musical!'." He looked at his brother, still pale. "Honestly, Finn, I've never seen her like this before."
Another hollow 'thwock' was followed by a 'crack' – and a crackling 'bang'. It was so loud that everyone in the dugout peered out to the field.
"Did she just... break the scoreboard?" Mercedes asked.
A hollow 'thwock' followed by a 'crack' echoed across to them, followed by a tinkling smash of glass.
"Is there even a glass window for her to break out here?" Tina asked.
"This is really, really, bad – and I don't just mean her aim with the ball," Kurt remarked.
Everyone else nodded in unison.
* MOH *
After the machine emptied, Finn led the others out of the dugout. Looking around cautiously, he saw Rachel sitting slumped on the lowest bleacher, staring into her lap. Kurt sat on one side, immediately taking her hand in his own. Mercedes sat on her other side, and Tina sat on the concrete riser near Rachel's feet, one leg tucked under her, the other dangling off the edge, heedless of her black lace stockings. Finn stood right behind Tina on the field itself, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, and his eyes locked on Rachel.
"So," Kurt ventured. "Can you tell us the problem, now?"
"Quinn's been sneaking around to work out her cold feet," Rachel's voice still had the music stripped from it. It made him hurt, everywhere in his body that could feel her sing. "She's been wearing my 'Wicked' cast jacket to do it, along with the Jets hat you gave me, Finn. So when that whackjob closet case Sandy Ryerson called up Terri to tell her all about it, he naturally told her that I'm the one who's been fucking around with Noah."
"Wait, Quinn and Puck? I thought all that shit got settled in first year glee!" Mercedes exclaimed.
Even in the midst of his annoyance with Quinn for pulling this overly dramatic crap – and setting up her sister for it – Finn wondered when Rachel had started referring to the woman who still called herself Mrs. Schuester by her first name. He knew that Terri hadn't been the most involved of parents since the divorce – in fact, he knew that Rachel only saw her a half-dozen times a year, even though they lived in the same town.
But then it came to him, in that odd flash of understanding he got about Rachel sometimes. Whatever Terri Schuester had said to Rachel tonight, it had caused Rachel to stop thinking of her as a parent. Their relationship had been broken past mending. From what he knew of Terri, she wouldn't even notice. He wondered if she was even intelligent enough to care.
"So, naturally, she threw a fit that hasn't been seen since my father divorced the crazy bitch. I'm confined to my house for anything that isn't school or Terri-approved wedding activities until Quinn's got the ring on her finger and everyone's telling Terri what a beautiful wedding she organized."
Kurt gasped in horror; obviously, the penny had dropped for him earlier than anyone else. "Wait, what about your audition?"
"She doesn't even know about it, Kurt," Rachel spat out. "She hasn't registered or even heard anything concerning my name since Quinn showed us that diamond on her finger last summer. Even if she did know, she wouldn't care." She laughed, and it was full of broken things that made Finn feel sick. "What's my entire future on a plate, compared to Quinn having the wedding of the year?"
"Wait, audition..." Mercedes sucked in a breath. "You mean your audition for Tisch?"
"The audition's on March 7. The wedding's on March 8."
"B-but you have to go!" Tina exclaimed. "You've been working for this forever!"
"What about Mr. Schue?" Finn asked. "I can't believe that he'd let her do this to you."
Rachel laughed bitterly. "Dad's fully occupied with preventing Terri from spending him into bankruptcy, keeping his job despite her constant interruptions, and stopping her from taking complete control of our lives again. I think it's taking almost everything he has to keep from going so completely over the edge that Emma runs like a scared rabbit. I know he'd never agree with Terri about this, but he's too worn out to actually stand up to her for me."
"So we'll take care of it," Finn told her.
Everyone looked at him, but it was the sudden, wild hope in Rachel's gaze that made his heart turn over.
High school – growing up, and discovering that he didn't need the approval of the football team to feel validated. That just being himself was a good thing, that he was a musician and athlete who became a leader and a man, through slushies and abuse and football victories and Glee trophies – had been miserable as hell, most of the time. But Rachel's gaze taught him all over again that growing up into the man he was now was worth it. Because that man could give this to her.
"Rachel, you need to go to New York City for this, right?" At her nod, Finn continued, "So once you've left town, on your way, is there anything she can do to stop you? I mean, she can't turn down the place on your behalf to get back at you or anything, right?"
Rachel shook her head. "She tries anything afterward, Dad can and will stop her. He just needs a few days to regain his equilibrium. I've got the plane tickets already booked; I wanted to stay overnight, but with the wedding..."
"Okay, so what time is the audition? How long will you need to stay?"
Rachel blew her nose. "Sometime around noon, I need to be there at ten AM. After the initial interviews come the call back auditions; that can be anytime from two PM up to ten PM, but I was told that out of state candidates usually get the early appointments. I'm pretty sure that showing them the wedding invitation and the plane ticket will help."
"So we need to pull off a double-play. Rachel, I'll get you to the audition. We'll sneak out of town, drive to Toledo, and I'll come with you on the plane. I can wait around while you audition, and drive you straight to whatever's happening when we get back. Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, you need to run interference. When the day comes, you need to keep Terri from finding out. Best case scenario, she won't even know Rachel's gone. We'll fill in Artie and Mike tomorrow, and you guys can bring Ms. Pillsbury in on this, if you have to – as the guidance counsellor, she should already know about it, right? She can tell Mr. Schue, keep him calm. If he knows I'm with her, that should help."
Rachel reached inside her jacket, and dug into the inside pocket. "I've got the Master Schedule here." Pulling out a sheaf of paper, she unfolded it and flicked through several pages.
"Geez, how big is that thing?" Tina gasped.
"Twenty A4 pages, all double-sided, then folded into an A5 booklet," Rachel said dryly. "Includes a date by date schedule of events, and details the personal responsibilities of everyone in the wedding party, including a list of who's supposed to attend what event." Finding the right page, she ran her finger along the paper. "Okay. The actual wedding rehearsal is the evening of the sixth. If it goes well, maybe I can appeal to Dad to let me stay over at your house, Kurt?"
"That would make things easier," Kurt agreed. "You could just get in Finn's truck and drive off after breakfast. Carole and my Dad would help cover for you if we need them to, I'm sure of it. But what if your – I mean, Terri – tells Mr. Schue that you're grounded?"
Rachel shrugged. "Nearly everything Terri says to him sort of goes in one ear and out the other these days, so if she tells him I'm grounded I doubt he'll actually do it. As long as I don't cause trouble by skipping a wedding event, Terri won't notice if I'm around or not. That brings us to the seventh. There's a final dress fitting in the morning – Kurt, can you get her to let you deal with that?"
Kurt nodded. "Santana and Brittany hate their dresses even more than you do. They'll help out just to foil Terri."
"Then there's something about categorising wedding presents – but I don't need to be involved in that, it's just Terri, Quinn and Kendra, probably gloating over the loot. That's it until the pre-wedding cocktail party and supper, in the same ballroom at the Grand that we'll be having the reception in. It's supposedly an informal buffet without any organized seating, so if I miss it, hopefully there will be too many people milling around for Terri to be sure if I'm there or not."
"So, we have a plan?" Finn asked.
Everyone nodded, and Rachel smiled. Her real smile, and everything that was wound up and hurting inside him, loosened and went back to normal.
