Brittany and her parents spent the next few days together. Mrs. Pierce reminded Brittany about mowing the lawn and watering the plants and picking up the mail once a week at the post office. Friday, after dinner, Brittany went into her room to pack a suitcase with a week's worth of clothes, while her parents finished packing and helping her younger sister pack for their trip to New Mexico.
Mrs. Pierce took a break from the preparations and walked out to the front porch and sat down. She exhaled a big breath and scrolled through her cell phone contacts and called Mrs. Lopez. They discussed the trip to New Mexico and Brittany's summer school schedule. Mrs. Lopez assured Mrs. Pierce that she had everything ready for Brittany to stay at their house and they agreed again, on what their daughters needed to know for both of them to sleep at night after the summer was over.
"I don't know how to thank you Maribel. I think I'll be thanking you for years for all you're doing to help us out."
"Don't say another word Susan. Brittany's a great kid, well, young woman," they both chuckled. "God, it doesn't seem like I'll ever get used to saying that," Maribel admitted. "Anyway, I can't thank you enough for being there when we found out about our daughters'."
"It was only fair to give you a heads up when I found them like that," Susan chuckled.
"I guess it's comforting to know that making out in parked cars hasn't lost its popularity," Maribel smiled into the phone.
"Very reassuring," Susan agreed. "So, how's Santana doing with planning for New York? Brittany's been pretty focused on figuring out what she wants to do, which I feel better about now. So I didn't ask."
"Well, she's signed up for a voice class and an acting class and one other I can't remember off the top of my head right now. Anyway, she started looking into apartments…well neighborhoods that look affordable. Well, affordable by New York City standards," Maribel sighed. "She also started job searching, but I'm not sure how much luck she's had with that. She did filing at the hospital last summer, and that's it, so she doesn't have the strongest of resumes."
"I'm sure she'll find something," Susan encouraged. "She's nothing if not resourceful. Oh and speaking of Santana, mind if I talk to her for a few minutes?"
"Is it your turn to put the fear of God into her if she messes things up with Brittany, and only thinks of herself, she'll regret it forever and ever?" Maribel joked.
"Something like that," Mrs. Pierce smiled into the phone.
"Good, because she needs to be reminded of that every now and then. Brittany is so, so important to her, that she loses sight of all the practical day-to-day relationship things. Plus, I think she needs to hear it from someone other than me."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure I have the right balance between gentle reminder and threats of bodily harm."
Maribel laughed and called for Santana.
"Hello?" Santana greeted into the phone.
"Hi Santana, it's Susan Pierce."
"Oh hi Mrs. Pierce. What's up?"
"I just wanted to have a little chat with you about going to New York with my daughter," Mrs. Pierce plainly stated.
Santana didn't like the tone of her voice, and looked warily up at her mother who leaned up against the kitchen counter. Mrs. Lopez just smirked at her as if to say, "You're on your own kid," and left the room. Santana gulped.
"Um, sure?" Santana worried her bottom lip into her teeth.
"So, what are you plans?"
Santana relaxed a little. She had plans. "Well first, of course, is helping Brittany with summer school. I got all the books for her English class and I'm re-reading the first one now. I'm also job and apartment searching. I started making a budget so I know how much I have to make every month to afford rent and stuff, so you don't have to worry about that. I looked into dance schools for Britt some possible job opportunities for her, and…"
"…and you haven't said a word about this to Brittany," Mrs. Pierce interrupted.
"Well, no, because I didn't want her to worry about that stuff."
"What makes you think she hasn't already worried about it and come up with her own plans and solutions?" Mrs. Pierce asked pointedly.
"She never said anything," Santana replied a little sad and worried.
"Did you ask her?"
Mrs. Pierce was met with silence on the other end of the phone.
"Santana, a relationship is a two-way street. Not a one-way where you drag my daughter down the street you think she's supposed to go."
"I…"
"No. I'm not finished," Mrs. Pierce interrupted again.
Maribel Lopez peeked her head around the doorway to check in on Santana. There, she watch her daughter pace back and forth, head down, running her hand through her hair. Santana sat down, her right leg bouncing quickly up and down. Maribel gave a sympathetic smile toward her daughter's back and turned away.
"I need you to promise me something. Just one thing," Mrs. Pierce's voice softened.
"Anything," Santana replied back, almost as shaky as her leg.
"Promise, you will always, always ask Brittany what she wants and thinks. And, more importantly, you need to listen to her when she does."
"Of course, Mrs. Pierce. I promise," Santana affirmed.
"Because, if you did that already, Santana, you would be a lot more relaxed."
"What do you mean?"
"Ask Brittany," Mrs. Pierce reminded Santana.
"Okay, okay, I will," Santana promised.
"One more thing Santana," Mrs. Pierce continued.
"Yes ma'am?" Santana's worries returned.
Mrs. Pierce couldn't stifle the little giggle that escaped her lips at the word ma'am. "You know how Brittany is really protective of you, because she loves you and cares about you?"
"Yeah, she's the best," Santana smiled.
"Well Brittany's love and loyalty and protectiveness for you is just a shadow compared to how I feel about her, so if you screw this up in New York with Brittany, so help me God, you're going to be dealing with me. And you don't want to be dealing with me, do you?"
"Yes ma'am. I mean no ma'am. No. No," Santana stammered her promise.
"Good, now put your mother back on the phone," Mrs. Pierce instructed.
Santana called for her mother and handed over the phone. Maribel saw Santana's ashen face, pale with worry and stress as she slinked out of the kitchen and upstairs.
"I thought you were going to find a balance , between gentle and 'Mama Grizzly'," Maribel chuckled.
"Sorry Maribel," Susan Pierce sighed. "I went with 'good cop-bad cop'. You're officially good cop now."
Mrs. Lopez laughed and they continued talking about their daughters.
Later that evening, Mrs. Lopez found Santana fluffing the pillows on the guest room bed. She watched as her daughter smoothed over the covers, checked the clock on the nightstand with her phone and adjusted the time. Maribel saw the garment bags pushed aside in the open closet door, providing plenty of room for Brittany's clothes. The top two bureau drawers were open and empty with a fresh sachet of lavender carefully placed in the center of the drawers. Mrs. Lopez smiled to herself, as she watched her daughter work to make the guest room Brittany's bedroom. Maribel left Santana to fuss over it, and checked the hall bathroom to make sure Santana had cleaned the tub like she asked.
The tub was spotless. The medicine cabinet mirror was spotless. A stack of neatly folded towels sat on the lip of the tub. Mrs. Lopez opened the mirror door to find an unopened toothbrush, mouthwash, dental floss, ibuprofen, fresh razors and shaving cream, a three-pack of raspberry Lip Smackers and a box of Sponge Bob Square Pants Band-Aids. Underneath the sink, Maribel found shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath, and lotion that could only be Brittany's brands.
"You've been busy," Maribel smiled, as Santana tried to fold a spare blanket so it fit perfectly at the end of the guest bed.
"I just want everything to be perfect for Britt," Santana explained, not looking up from her task.
"Santana," Maribel put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Brittany's been spending half her life here for the past four years. Why does everything have to be 'perfect' all of a sudden?"
Santana sighed in frustration. The blanket wasn't cooperating, and she was still on edge after Mrs. Pierce's threats. "If I screw up, Brittany's mom is going to have my head," Santana confessed. "So everything has to be perfect. It's my job. I'm supposed to take care of her."
Maribel took the blanket from Santana, quickly re-folded it and placed it at the foot of the bed. Santana huffed at her mother, and how easily she fixed it. "Your job, Santana, is to take care of her heart. Everything else falls into place after that," Maribel explained, as she left the room.