Chapter 2 : Undomestic Goddess

As it turns out, my interpretation of 'lets give each other some time' is somewhat different to Rachel's version. She appears the following day, near the end of the Vocal Adrenaline rehearsal.

"My dads can't sew, I really need a mom right now." The eyes have taken on a doe-eyed look, which I can tell she uses to try and get her own way. I should know, I invented that look.

If we knew each other better, or, if it weren't for the fact it looks as if Toys R Us threw up on her, or if it were anyone else, I would immediately give her/them a lecture on why having a uterus does not necessarily equate to magically being able to sew. Or cook for that matter.

"Do you think you can help?"

Maria Von Trapp I am not, and I certainly do not possess the ability to start whipping up whole outfits out of a pair of curtains. That said, I do have access to the VA costume store and equipment, and she really shouldn't be going round dressed like that.

"I suppose I can" I tell her. "Follow me."

I lead her out of the auditorium and through the corridors of the main building until we reach the VA costume store and work shop. Rachel's wide eyed amazement at the racks of costumes confirms that McKinley high don't have anything like this.

I leave her there and return to finish up practice with VA. When I come back I find her flicking through a gossip magazine. She smiles as I enter and gestures to the page she was just reading.

"Do you think I could have something like this?" she asks, showing me a picture of Lady Gaga in a black dress.

"Lady Gaga?" I raise an eyebrow " I suppose its just a big coincidence that you guys happen to be doing a Gaga song?"

She blushes, but stands her ground "Yes, pure coincidence."

I can spot a lie 10 miles off, but decide not to call her on it.

"Wait.." I pause, " Were you trying to recreate the Kermit the frog dress?"

She sighs. "yes, but as I said, my dads can't sew, and Mrs Bean our seamstress is on holiday, so…"

"Ok, I think I have something that may work. We did a number a while back where the girls dressed up as French maids" I riffle through a rack of black dresses in varying sizes, and pull out one that looks more or less the right size. " We can take this in a bit at the waist, add an underskirt and a piece on the front."

I can feel her eyes on me, watching my every move as I take the garment and start to thread the sewing machine. The silent scrutiny continues until I have lowered the hem, and taken the waist in by about 4 inches.

I want to say something, strike up conversation, but what to say? So how was your day? Too cliché. Have you told your dads about what happened and are they are about to launch a law suit? Too deep.

I'm about to start humming the opening bars of a Chorus Line just to break the silence when Rachel beats me to it.

"How did you learn to make clothes?" she asks.

" I didn't learn to make clothes. I learnt to alter clothes." I start cutting out fabric for the checked front panel. "When I was trying to make it on Broadway, I couldn't afford to buy evening gowns or concert dresses. So I used to buy them second hand, and then alter them to fit me."

"You were on Broadway?"

"Yes, well no, well, sort of."

"How? When? What happened?"

Rachel is eager now, like a 3-year old asking for a fairytale. Unfortunately that particular story does not have a happy ending, nor does it have a happy beginning either.

"It's a long story" I say, that much at least is true. "which I will tell you, but not today."

I shake the dress out, and hold it up to her. "There, go try that on."

Grinning Rachel clutches the material to her and skips out the door to the ladies changing rooms next door.

I sit back down. I still have the strange feeling I had yesterday. Here we are indulging in a classic mother-daughter activity, and I feel nothing still. No bond, no over whelming desire other than to help someone out.

I can't help but wonder - what's wrong with me? This is what I wanted wasn't it? Yet why does it seem so odd…..

Rachel comes back in smiling " It's wonderful, thank you!" she rushes forward as if to hug me, but pulls herself back at the last minute, almost thinking the better of it. I plaster a smile on my face. "Your welcome" I reply.

We need to have a serious talk. But not right now, not when she is so happy. But it has to be soon.

Xxxxxx

TBC