Her Smile Heals Me (part 23)
Friday, July 1, 2011
"Good morning, sunshine," Daniel Berry said as he stepped off the staircase and passed Rachel sitting at the dining room table. He paused briefly to kiss her on the cheek, adding, "Are those blueberry muffins?"
"Dad made them before he left," the petite brunette confirmed, taking a sip of her coffee.
"He went into the shop awfully early today," Daniel commented. He vaguely remembered his partner saying something about a big shipment of yellow roses being delivered to their flower shop that morning for a wedding he was doing on Sunday. Trey was originally from Texas, his family having moved to Ohio when he was eight, so he had been particularly excited to have a client doing a big Yellow Rose of Texas-themed reception to celebrate her southern roots.
"Yes, he's got that big reception on Sunday…remember?" Rachel poured more coffee into her nearly-empty cup then pushed the carafe toward her father.
"The reception as big as Texas, right?" her father acknowledged with a small laugh, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pulling the front section from the newspaper on the table before sitting down at the far end.
"Everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas," Rachel shared his laugh.
"Even budgets apparently," Daniel winked at his bright-eyed daughter, noting, "Are you leaving out soon?"
"Finn's driving me to work this morning so we can have lunch together," she answered, pulling one of her short legs up under her in the dining room chair, "I'll be back home after that."
"How has he liked working at Burt's shop this summer?" Daniel inquired over the top of the newspaper.
"He likes it…I think he really enjoys learning about cars from Burt…he hasn't had that father-figure in his life," Rachel stated, "I think it means more to him than just a paycheck."
"Burt's a great man…I've always liked him," Daniel took a sip of coffee, setting the cup back on the table before saying, "I think it was good for Santana to work with him too."
"Kurt told her last night that Burt asked about her…he said for her to stop by and talk to him sometime," Rachel informed him.
"That's great…I hope she'll follow through…Santana needs something like that."
"I need something like what?" Santana asked, walking up on the conversation with Brittany close behind her.
"Like working with Burt," Daniel told her, "He's a strong role model."
"Yeah, I wish all fathers were like you guys and Burt," Santana said flatly, standing behind the chair that sat at the opposite end from Daniel. Shaking off the internal disappointment she felt about her own father, she switched topics, saying, "Daniel…I've made a decision."
Brittany moved around Santana and sat in the chair across the table from Rachel, reaching for a muffin, peeling it to remove the paper cup around its bottom.
"About…?" Daniel asked for clarification.
"Karofsky," Santana stated bluntly, a shiver moving through her body just at having to say his name aloud.
"Okay…what did you decide?"
"Tell him…I'll do it."
"What? San…no…," Rachel spoke up, "…you can't give into him like that…you've come so far…Dad, tell her this is not a good idea."
"Rachel…this is not your decision," Daniel held up his hand to silence her protest, "If that's what you want to do, Santana…then I'll call ADA Cole when I get to the office and let him know."
"She doesn't want to do this though…," Rachel spoke again with a desperate tone, "…I can read it in her face…she's only doing this because she thinks she has to do it…she's letting him violate her all over again."
Santana looked down at the wood of the chair under the scrutiny of Rachel's verbal protests.
"Somebody say something…," the smaller brunette looked around the table at her father then back at Santana then at Brittany, "…Brittany?"
The silent blonde looked up from her bite of muffin. "What?"
"Speak up here…you're her girlfriend…she listens to you…tell her this is a terrible idea!"
"Rachel…," Daniel tried to interject.
"No, she's just sitting there…not saying anything to try to help," Rachel rationalized, "I know you love her…stop her from putting herself in a horrible situation that could trigger another decline."
Brittany swallowed her bite and calmly wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I do love her…so I trust her to know what she's capable of handling…and so should you."
Rachel settled back into her chair, glancing from Brittany to look up at Santana who still stood behind the end chair, her fingers clinched around the edge of its high back, affected by the tension.
"I'm trying to face my fears, Rachel…please support me," Santana said meekly.
Rachel nodded, saying, "Okay."
"Trey and I are both very proud of the progress you're making, Santana," Daniel smiled warmly.
The phone in Brittany's pants pocket chimed so she pulled it out and looked at the new text, saying, "I've gotta go…my mom's out front."
"I'll walk you to the door," Santana told her, turning to pick up Brittany suitcase from near the stairs and catching up to the tall blonde as she stood and said goodbye to Rachel and Daniel.
As the two of them reached the front door, Brittany turned around to see Santana look up at her with sadness in her big brown eyes. "It's not easy for me to leave you…you know that, right?"
"Go…I'll be strong," Santana smiled, trying to reassure her.
"You arestrong," Brittany returned the smile and pulled something from her pocket. It was a white piece of paper she'd torn neatly from her journal, and she unfolded it before she handed it to Santana, telling her, "…but just in case you need a reminder in a moment of doubt…just read this…okay?"
Santana took the page from her, looking down at Brittany's uniquely printed handwriting that the Latina always found heartwarming. The page had a list on it, and she scanned down each one of them, her eyes stopping to linger over the last one: I love loving you.
"I wrote those down last week…when I didn't know where you were…and I told myself that if I ever got to see you again…I would be sure to show them to you so you'd never doubt what you mean to me," Brittany said sweetly, opening the front door and seeing her mom's van idling in the driveway.
Santana didn't answer but kept reading the message at the bottom of the page that Brittany added that morning:
I know I'm not the smartest girl you'd meet, Santana. I may not always know the best thing to say or when to say it, but I do know you and I do know us. And I know what we have is true.
I just wanted to tell you how devoted I am to you so that when you're feeling scared or fragile then maybe just knowing that will give you strength to keep trying.
You are loved, Santana. Proudly so.
Britt
Both girls jumped slightly when the silence around them was interrupted with Mrs. Pierce's honk of the horn, trying to prompt Brittany's goodbye. Brittany looked over her shoulder to see her mom holding up her arm and pointing to her watch, signaling her need to get going.
"I better go…call me later," Brittany leaned down and kissed Santana's lips before stepping out on the front porch with her suitcase in hand.
"Britt…," Santana stopped her, and Brittany turned back around, her blue eyes sparkling. The brunette smiled a tight-lipped smile, holding back her emotions as much as she could under the circumstances. She held the sheet of paper to her chest, her heart overflowing, and said simply, "Thank you for this."
Brittany winked at her then ran out to the waiting Sienna, waving to Santana as she climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her.
The Latina stepped out on the porch in her bare feet to wave back at Brittany, watching every feature of the blonde's face, soothed instantly by the broad smile across it, as Mrs. Pierce backed the blue van out of the driveway, and at that moment, everything in Santana's world came together to make perfect sense.
Her face is a map of the world,
Is a map of the world
You can see she's a beautiful girl,
She's a beautiful girl
And everything around her is a silver pool of light
The people who surround her feel the benefit of it
It makes you calm
She holds you captivated in her palm…
Suddenly I see
This is what I wanna be
Suddenly I see
Why the hell it means so much to me…
I feel like walking the world,
Like walking the world
You can hear she's a beautiful girl,
She's a beautiful girl
She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white
Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember
What you heard
She likes to leave you hanging on her word…
Suddenly I see
This is what I wanna be
Suddenly I see
Why the hell it means so much to me…
And she's taller than most
And she's looking at me
I can see her eyes looking from a page in a magazine
Oh she makes me feel like I could be a tower
A big strong tower
She's got the power to be
The power to give
The power to see…
Suddenly I see
This is what I wanna be
Suddenly I see
Why the hell it means so much to me.
"Chuck!" Santana shouted over the loud squeal of a power tool that the older man was using to fasten the last of several bolts on a tire.
He looked up from a kneeling position by the rear of a car and smiled with recognition of the Latina.
"Where's Burt?" she asked.
The graying man motioned toward a white truck that was up on a lift in the far corner of the shop.
Santana thanked him and walked toward the back of the garage, circling around to the other side of the truck, looking for Burt Hummel.
"Santana!" the pudgy, middle-aged man exclaimed when he spotted her. He was demonstrating something to Finn and held a dirty air filter in his hand. He handed the filter to him then wiped his blackened hands on an even more blackened red rag he pulled from the back pocket of his mechanics jumpsuit. "Come here!" he said jovially, putting his arms around Santana's shoulders and squeezing her without touching her shirt with his dirty hands, "We've missed you around here."
"Yeah, I've missed being here…surprisingly," the young Latina smiled widely, "…and…I'm sorry, Burt…for abandoning my responsibilities around here…I'm sure you heard that I had sort of a…breakdown."
Burt looked up at Finn and told him, "Son…take a walk…go see what Chuck needs help with, k?"
Finn nodded compliance and stepped around the rear of the truck to disappear out of sight.
"So…sort of a breakdown, huh?" Burt looked at her in that wonderfully paternal way he always did with everyone.
"Well, not sort of…," Santana admitted, "…I fell apart."
"Yeah…I heard," Burt said, crossing his arms, "I also heard you're pulling it back together."
"I'm really trying, Burt…but I need a job again…I need money…," she stated upfront, her eyes pleading with him.
"You need money?"
"Well, I had some money…I was saving for something important…but I lost it all," Santana was embarrassed about the circumstances in which she found herself.
Burt stared at the Latina suspiciously, trying to force eye contact, realizing how exposed she was in her request. "You lost it, eh? You got a gambling problem too? You been betting on the ponies?" he winked at her which made her laugh in response.
She glanced down when she answered, "No…nothing like that…I'm trying to start over here…and I've got something I need to pay off soon."
"Uhuh…well, do you think you can commit this time?" he asked bluntly.
"Definitely," Santana stated with determination.
"Well, I believe in second chances…and I believe in you...so we'll find a place for you, kid," he hugged her again.
"Thank you so much, Burt…I won't let you down, I promise," she assured him.
"You better not!"
"No, I'm back completely…and not just to answer the phone…I want to learn to do stuff," Santana insisted, "…maybe like how to change out a tire or something useful like that."
"Okay, sure…you want to learn then the lace gloves are off this time around…," he pushed up on the sleeves of his greased-stained coveralls, "You'll learn this shop top to bottom…same as Finn…tires…transmissions…oil changes…there are no girls or guys in this shop, got it? Just hard workers…can you handle it?"
"Absolutely," Santana beamed at the prospect of another chance.
"Do you feel like starting now? I can pay you this afternoon," Burt told her.
"I was really hoping you'd say that…," the young brunette reached into the pink and black messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder and pulled a folded, stained cloth from it, saying excitedly, "I brought my coveralls with me."
She held the drab, oversized garment up, and Burt laughed at the name patch of one of his former workers.
"Wonderful…then welcome back, Rick!" Burt winked.
"Watch your step, sweetheart," Mara Boyd said to her daughter as she guided Cate through the doorway of her apartment.
"I'm fine, Mom…I can walk on my own," Cate said lightheartedly, knowing her parents had been through a very traumatic experience and understandably felt protective.
"You should listen to your mother," a feminine voice said from the small kitchen near the front door.
Quinn stepped out into the attached living room, wiping her hands on a dish cloth, and smiled broadly at the Boyds.
"Hi you!" Cate beamed at the sight of the young blonde, "What a nice treat."
"Your mom gave me a key last night so I could get things ready for you to come home," Quinn explained, "After I dropped off Santana this morning…I came right over…got a load of your laundry washed... put fresh sheets on your bed…and made you some soup."
"You did all that for me?" Cate sounded pleasantly surprised.
"And she put out pretty flowers too, Cate," Mara pointed out, bending to smell the fragrance of the colorful, spring bouquet which sat on an end table next to the couch.
"They're beautiful…just like you," Cate told Quinn as she put her arm around her waist and kissed her sweetly.
The teen blushed from the unexpected PDA as much as from the sentiment of the compliment, smiling shyly. Cate leaned further into her and whispered into her ear, "Stop blushing, it's true…and…my mom knows you're my girlfriend."
Quinn took a deep breath, whispering back to her, "This takes some getting used to…be patient with me."
"Always," Cate smiled, taking Quinn by the hand.
"Where should I put this, Catie?" Stuart Boyd asked as he walked through the still-opened front door with a suitcase in one hand and large plastic bag in the other.
"Oh here, Dad…I'll take it," Cate said, moving toward the older man.
"No…let me," Quinn insisted, taking both bags, "You go sit down, honey."
"Quinn…that bag from the hospital has Cate's prescriptions in it," Mara notified helpfully, "Be sure to put those somewhere she'll remember to take them."
"Yes, I will," Quinn assured Mrs. Boyd.
"Why don't you lay down now?" her mother suggested, running a soft caress down the back of Cate's head.
"Okay, enough, everyone…I will be fine…I will not break…or kill over," Cate tried to joke in order to wave off her over-protectors.
"Catherine, please don't joke about that," Mara said sadly.
"Sorry, Mom," Cate apologized then turned to Quinn, asking, "Too soon?"
The younger girl nodded with a smirk and raised eyebrows.
"Alright, Mara…let's leave the girls alone…I think Quinn has everything under control here," Mr. Boyd stated objectively, kissing his daughter firmly on the cheek, "Catie, get some rest and call us later."
"Thanks, Dad."
"We love you, sweetheart…please let us know if you need anything," Cate's mom hugged her affectionately.
"I will…now stop worrying…I'm fine, Mom," the tall brunette insisted.
As Quinn went to close the door behind the aging parents, Mara Boyd turned and said in a hushed tone, "Please make sure she takes it easy."
"I promise," Quinn smiled sweetly, shutting the front door.
The young blonde turned toward Cate and informed her, "Ok, first things first…you need to get comfy and eat something…so you go change into your PJs while I get you a bowl of soup."
"Yes ma'am," Cate said jovially then she went up the hallway to her bedroom.
Quinn moved into the small kitchen and pulled a bowl from a shelf in the upper cupboard. She used a plastic ladle she found in the utensil drawer to pour some hearty soup into the bowl then set it on a tray. She tucked a napkin and spoon next to the bowl then filled a glass with some cold water, setting it on the tray as well. The blonde reached into the plastic, hospital bag to remove three brown prescription bottles which she placed on the tray before picking it up and walking gingerly down the short hall to Cate's bedroom.
"Hungry?" she asked the older brunette who was pulling up a pair of beige-striped, cotton pajama bottoms.
"Look at you being all domestic," Cate teased, removing her button-down shirt to reveal a white, ribbed tank top.
"Get under the covers so I can set this down," Quinn instructed.
"I wish my nurse in the hospital had been as adorable as you," the older girl said as she pulled back her comforter and top sheet and settled under it, propped up on a couple of pillows.
"I saw your nurse…a warthog would have been more adorable than she was," Quinn joked as she tucked the napkin in Cate's tank, handing her the spoon.
"True," she agreed, "Wait, you're not going to feed me too?"
"Sure…I can."
"I'm joking…I can lift a spoon."
"Well, make sure that's all you lift around here…ok?"
"Yes, Mom," Cate smirked.
"I'm serious, honey…I was reading your discharge sheet…it said no lifting, no stretching, no squatting, no running…," Quinn listed.
"No running? I guess I'll have to postpone my 5K run then."
"Be serious for five minutes…please?" Quinn pouted.
"Okay, okay…I'm sorry…I'm listening…continue," Cate told her with a straight face, taking a bite of soup, "This is delicious, by the way…I'm impressed."
"Don't be…actually…I bought it from the bakery downtown then just warmed it up in your pan," Quinn confessed, "I was trying to impress your mom."
Cate laughed, catching herself when a sharp pain shot through her ribcage, "Oww…add no laughing to the list."
Quinn finally cracked a big smile, crawling onto the other side of the double bed next to Cate. "Sorry…oh, it also said…no sex…fyi."
Both girls laughed.
"That one I may have to ignore," the older girl warned, pulling Quinn closer, leaning slightly to kiss her.
"Be careful…you'll spill your soup," the teen said as she wiped at Cate's mouth with the corner of the paper napkin.
"It is good soup…but don't ever feel like you have to impress anyone, Quinn…you're wonderful just as you are."
"Do your parents really like me?"
"Of course they do…what's not to like?"
Quinn shrugged. "I came out to my friends," Quinn said quietly, "Well…Santana…and Rachel."
"Really?" Cate laid the spoon next to the bowl on the tray, "As in…how out?"
"As in…Hi, I'm Quinn and I'm a lesbian."
"Wow…that's a big development," the brunette acknowledged, "How do you feel about that?"
"Comfortable…sort of," Quinn laughed.
"It's a process…don't feel you have to rush it," Cate said supportively.
Quinn adjusted further into Cate's body, brushing her bangs off her forehead, "I know…but I want to live openly…so I'm trying to overcome any awkwardness."
"I will do whatever I can to assist you."
"Just love me…," Quinn said sweetly, laying her head on Cate's shoulder, "…that's all I need."
"That's a given," Cate kissed her on the top of the head.
"Oh…and no more dying," the blonde looked up and told her with a firm tone.
"Right…I'll do my best," Cate laughed and squeezed Quinn tightly.
Quinn closed the door of Cate's bedroom softly, not wanting to wake her from her nap. As she walked toward the kitchen, she heard a knock at the front door. The teen set the tray down on the kitchen counter then went to open it, finding Cate's friend Becca on the other side.
"Oh hi," Becca said when she saw Quinn.
"Hi."
"Where's Cate?"
"She's sleeping…she just got home today…did you need something?" Quinn asked.
"Can I come in for a sec?"
Quinn raised her eyebrows out of unintended suspicion then said, "Yeah, I guess." She stepped aside to let the older girl access to come inside the small apartment. The young blonde watched the smallish brunette as she looked around the room, unsure as to what to say to her.
"Did you want to sit down?" Quinn finally asked.
"No."
"Okay," the teen now felt uneasy.
"So, are you two an item now?" Becca asked bluntly.
"Yes…is that a problem?" Quinn responded.
"I just wondered."
Quinn continued to stand in the entryway near the front door, feeling more and more uncomfortable in Becca's presence, breaking the silence by inquiring, "Is there a reason you're here?"
"The night Jordan died…," the girl started hesitantly, "…she came looking for me."
"Okay."
"When she found me…she was pissed."
The younger girl stared at her, waiting for more of her point to be revealed.
"She truly loved Cate."
"Is this before or after she beat the crap out of her?" Quinn asked bitterly.
"You're new here…you think you know things…but you have no clue."
"I know that violence is never the answer."
"Jordan was jealous that Cate got out…she never got past it."
"Clearly," Quinn said deadpanned.
"Not me though…I always respected her for it," the smaller girl shared, "Cate makes me want to be a better person."
"Why are you here, Becca?"
"When Jordan found me Wednesday…she asked me about Santana's cash…she was looking for it…but I told her I didn't take it."
"Okay."
"I lied." The older girl pulled a crumpled, white envelope from the back pocket of her very worn jeans, opening the top to reveal several green bills, "This is all that's left…I'm really sorry…I felt bad as soon as I took…but I was desperate…and when Jordan told me she saw a lot of cash in Santana's bag…."
"You stole it," Quinn interrupted her rambling explanation with an indignant tone.
Becca reached out to hand Quinn the envelope, "There's like a hundred and fifty left…I wish it were more…but I had to pay off a debt…they were coming after me…please tell Cate that I was going to pay it back as soon as I could…I swear."
Quinn took the envelope from her, saying, "You should probably go now."
"I'm so sorry."
"Sorry won't really fix everything that happened, will it?" Quinn opened the front door, and as the older girl passed her, she added, "It's not too late for you to get out and find a better life, Becca."
She stopped in the doorway and looked up at Quinn with tears in her eyes, "You think it's that easy?"
"No…but you know one girl who did…and one girl who no longer has a chance…but you still can, Becca…start by moving out of that house…find better friends," Quinn suggested sternly, "The people you surround yourself with make all the difference in the world."
Brittany walked into the kitchen to find her mother stirring something in a pan on the top of the stove. As she passed her, she looked over the older blonde's shoulder for a better view, pausing a moment to hug her mom from behind, commenting, "That smells so good."
"I wanted to make a special dinner for us since we finally have you home," Mrs. Pierce said cheerfully, "We're having chicken and roasted potatoes and green beans."
"And chocolate cake!" a tiny voice said from the other side of the kitchen island.
"And chocolate cake…," Mrs. Pierce added with a laugh, "…if you eat some green beans!"
"I will if you will…," Brittany told her little sister with a wink.
The littlest Pierce giggled and nodded from the wooden stool upon which she sat, scrubbing red potatoes with a damp cloth.
"Need help?" Brittany asked her sister.
"You do this big one," Emily handed her the larger of the two potatoes on the counter in front of her.
"Mom…," Brittany started, pulling another cloth from a kitchen drawer and stepping to the faucet to dampen it, "…when's our trip to the beach going to be?"
"I was talking to your Aunt Jill about that this morning…she's booking a beach cabin for the last week of July…why?"
Brittany hesitated in response, wanting desperately to bring Santana on the trip. She was unsure of exactly how to ask though.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, but before she could vocalize anything, she heard Emily's tiny voice say innocently, "Can Santana go with us?"
Thank you, Em…Brittany thought. "Um…I guess I could ask her…Mom? Would that be okay?" Brittany glanced back at her mother as the older woman moved from the stove to the sink.
"We should check with your dad first, but I don't see any problem with it…two of your cousins aren't going this time because of school trips…there should be extra room in the cabin," Mrs. Pierce said nonchalantly.
Brittany gulped some air once she realized her normal breathing was lacking. That was easy…she thought then she added verbally, "okay, great…I'll see if she wants to go."
"Tell her she has to go…Andy promised to teach me to surf this year," Emily said enthusiastically.
"Surf? Don't you need to know how to swim without floaties in order to surf, Em?" Brittany asked her with a raised eyebrow.
"I think you may still be too small to go out with the older boys just yet, Emily," Mrs. Pierce informed her.
"I am bigger!" Emily insisted, "I could do it…right, B?"
"You can do anything you put your mind to, kiddo…but we want you to be safe at the same time," Brittany ran a sweet caress down the back of the small blonde's head.
"Santana would take me out in the deep water," she challenged with a pout.
"Santana would want you to be safe too," Brittany insisted.
"Okay…enough talk…time to chop those potatoes so we can get them in the oven," Mrs. Pierce directed their attention elsewhere, handing Brittany a cutting board and a large knife.
"David," Mr. Karofsky acknowledged his son as he entered the living room, pointing to the couch where his defense attorney, Thomas Lowell, was already positioned, directing him harshly, "sit."
Dave removed his giant hands from the front pockets of his jeans, rubbing his palms nervously on his thighs as he moved toward the couch. His mother sat in a side chair in the living room, and as Dave sat, he looked up and noticed her dabbing at her eyes with a white tissue.
The burly teen took a deep breath, hoping someone would break the silence that hung in the room, looking at the serious faces of his father then of his attorney.
"David," both men said at the same time, talking over each other, but Mr. Karofsky paused and gestured to the suit-clad man on the couch, "Go ahead, Tom."
"The DA's office contacted me this afternoon…your quote unquote victim…," the attorney emphasized with air-quotes, "…has agreed to meet with you."
"She did?" David was surprised but relieved.
"David...," Thomas Lowell cleared his throat before continuing, "I want you to look at your mother there…do you see what you are doing to her?"
David Karofsky didn't respond.
"Are you sure you are prepared to change your entire story about prom night?" Thomas clarified.
"I'm prepared to face the truth," Dave answered.
Mr. Karofsky shifted annoyingly in his chair. "Knowing that you'll not only lose your football scholarship to Rutgers…but that you could spend the next six years of your life behind bars?" his father challenged angrily, "Because that's going to be the end result of this train wreck, son…every single thing we have worked for in your life…gone…just like that."
"What I did to her was rape…I've tried every day since that night to convince myself that's not what happened…but I can't," Karofsky sniffed, tears forming in his eyes, "Denying it will never change it."
Thomas sighed heavily and scratched at his graying beard. "You're being given until 10 am Sunday morning to turn yourself into the authorities," he told him, "Eric Cole is arranging this meeting with Ms. Lopez on Monday…and your sentencing hearing is scheduled for Tuesday…if you sign off on the confession, that is."
Karofsky looked down, the weight of the consequences mounting around him, threatening to crush him both physically and mentally.
"We believed you, David…you told us she was lying…and we believed you...," his mother cried, "…now look what you've done to this family….how could you?"
Dave could not lift his head to look at his mother, but he could hear pain in her voice.
"David…don't just sit there…speak," his father raised his voice, the volume resonating, making him feel as though he was five-years-old again and cowering in the corner of his closet as his father screamed his displeasure throughout their house.
"I'm sorry I've disappointed you," David said meekly.
"I wanted you to be something in this life, David…everything your mother and I have done…every dollar invested…every ounce of energy exerted…has been simply to put you in a position to be successful…and this is how you repay us."
"I didn't know I owed you," David asked, partly confused, partly defensive.
"David…that's not what your father meant," Mrs. Karofsky spoke protectively.
"I think that's exactly what he meant…isn't it?" he looked directly at his father, "I never asked to be born…that was your choice…you brought me into this world…yet you think I owe you my future?"
"You owed us your achievement."
Those words hit Dave harshly, more harshly than anything he could remember his father saying to him. Everything before this moment was implied, but to hear his father confirm to him that his entire reality had been molded…micromanaged to be exactly as his father wanted him to be…left David feeling as though he existed for no reason at all.
"Well, then you should be quite proud, Dad…because I did achieve," David stared him coldly in the face, pointing at him for emphasis, "I achieved being…just…like…you."
"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Karofsky asked, suddenly thrown off his usual self-assurance.
"I'm angry…I'm filled with hate…and I'm nothing but a bully…just like my dad," David said before he had the better sense to watch his tongue. Yet, even as disgusted with himself and with his father as he felt in this moment, he still could not push the words…and I'm a fucking queer…from his brain to his mouth to verbalize the one last truth to which he held on.
Mr. Karofsky stood up to leave the room but turned and added with a smugness, "Perhaps I have faults…but…at least I'm no rapist."
David stood quickly. He was at least four inches taller than his father, and his weight was more muscle than flab unlike his father. Standing toe to toe with him though, Dave always felt small. There was something about this conversation that only served to confirm to Dave that all his doubt and self-hatred was well placed, crushing his spirit that much more.
David Karofsky felt hot tears in his eyes as he stared angrily at his father, his fists clinched, wanting so badly to punch him and punch him then punch him again until all his hatred evaporated, but all Dave could do was let out a deep breath in total defeat and confirm to him, "Well…if you don't like how I turned out, Dad…you only have yourselfto blame…because you made me exactly as I am."
The front doorbell rang at the Pierce residence Friday evening.
"I'll get it!" Emily hollered, running to the front door, reaching up to unlock the deadbolt and opening the heavy, wooden door.
"Hey, squirt…," Santana smiled.
"Santana!" the little girl grinned, showing a new gap in her front section of teeth, "Look!"
Santana moved inside and bent at the waist to look directly at Emily's mouth. "You have a new hole!"
"Two! There…and there," the little blonde pointed out.
"What's the tooth fairy's going rate these days?" the brunette inquired, looking up at Brittany who walked up to them, "Cause I may need to start yanking out some teeth soon."
"Uhh…no…I don't think even you could pull off that look," the taller blonde joked.
"Hey, love," Santana straightened to full height and gave Brittany a quick kiss on the mouth.
The Latina followed behind Brittany as they passed by the kitchen where Mrs. Pierce was putting away the leftovers from dinner.
"Hi," Santana said to her cheerfully.
"You're just in time…I'll make you a plate," the older woman told her, scooping the last of the potatoes from a ceramic bowl into a green Tupperware container.
"Oh, I'm good…Rachel and I got dinner before she dropped me off."
"You're sure?" Mrs. Pierce asked, "How about a slice of cake?"
"It's chocolate," Brittany enticed, running her hand down Santana's back.
"Tempting…maybe later?"
"I'll wrap you a piece to take home…," Mrs. Pierce suggested, "I'll make it big enough to share with Rachel…how's that?"
"Perfect," the Latina smiled.
"Come on," Brittany told her, grabbing Santana's hand, "We'll be upstairs, Mom."
The girls went up the staircase and into Brittany's bedroom. Once she had the door closed and locked, she turned to Santana and pulled her into a kiss.
"I missed you," the blonde said.
Santana giggled, "It's only been ten hours…and you were worried about me?"
Brittany nuzzled closer, her bare feet making her slightly more face to face with the shorter brunette. "I could never get enough of you."
Santana moved over to the bed, pulling Brittany's wrist, "Speaking of…have you thought any more about moving to New York after graduation?"
"I think it's a great idea…don't you?"
"Yeah…I do…of course."
"So…what's on your mind?" Brittany could read in Santana's face that she was working through something mentally.
"Nothing," she said with a forced smile, laying back against the pillows and straightening her legs so Brittany could roll over to the other side of her.
"Okay," Brittany knew never to force Santana's thoughts. She laid her head in the crook of Santana's shoulder, wrapping her arms around the brunette's trim waist, enjoying their physical closeness, "How was it being back at the shop today?"
"It was great…I learned how to drain oil out of a car."
"Well, aren't you becoming handy," Brittany teased, running her fingertips lackadaisically up and down Santana's torso also slipping them under the hem of her fitted t-shirt to touch the smooth, brown skin of her stomach.
"I think I'm really good at working with my hands," Santana surmised.
"You'll get no argument from me," the blonde teased, shifting more of her weight on top of Santana, maneuvering her long leg in between the brunette's thin legs, dragging her knee purposefully across Santana's groin as she moved up to cup her hands around the Latina's cheeks to draw her into a long kiss.
Brittany could tell Santana's thoughts still had her distracted so she settled back on top of her with her head on her chest. She felt Santana's arms wrap around her back as she lay there for several quiet minutes, listening to the brunette's heart beat rhythmically inside her.
"Britt?"
Brittany smiled into Santana's chest, thinking…Ok, here we go. "Yes?"
"Do you think we were always meant to be together?"
"How do you mean?" the blonde could tell this was going to be an interesting conversation.
"Do you think if we'd been born in different places…that we'd have found our way to each other?"
"You mean like…fate?"
"Fate…destiny…whatever you want to call it," Santana caressed Brittany's bare arm as she spoke.
"Does it matter? I mean…we have each other now…right?"
The Latina was silent a moment then agreed, "Right."
Brittany knew that tone. She lifted her head, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers, inches from Santana's face. "But…it matters to you, huh?"
Santana shrugged. "I was just thinking…I guess," Santana said, sounding vulnerable.
"Then tell me what you are thinking," Brittany encouraged.
"Rachel was talking at dinner."
"Rachel's always talking," Brittany joked.
"True," Santana smiled, "I wondered if you saw any of the news from last week."
"News?"
"Rachel told me that New York passed a bill that allows same-sex marriage now," Santana informed her.
"Seriously? So like lesbians and gays can now get married? With everything that was going on…I didn't hear about that," she answered. Brittany sensed though that there was more to this topic for Santana to bring it up, adding quietly, "How do you feel about that?"
"It's a big step…marriage…don't you think?"
"Definitely…whether it's traditional marriage…or same-sex marriage." Brittany chuckled slightly, saying, "Does that sound as weird to you as it does to me? Same-sex marriage?"
"Well…we are the same sex, Britt," Santana said humorless, "We're both girls."
"I know that…it still seems like such a foreign concept though," Brittany unintentionally wrinkled her nose, "Doesn't it?"
Santana adjusted to move out from under Brittany, propping herself up on her elbow on the pillows below her. "Are you saying you've never thought about it before?"
"About…what?"
"About being married?" Santana asked.
"Sure I have…I've always wanted to get married…I want to have three kids…and two dogs…and two cats…and one of those big rainbow-colored birds that I can train to talk," Brittany described excitedly.
"So you definitely thought about it…," Santana sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them tightly in a protective manner.
Brittany felt suddenly like she had said the wrong thing. "What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up with her legs crisscrossed, facing Santana.
Santana shrugged again.
"Talk to me," Brittany coaxed.
"When you thought of all those details…who did you see yourself married to?" Santana pushed herself to ask.
Brittany didn't answer immediately.
"It was a guy…wasn't it?" the brunette challenged her.
"Santana…," Brittany started.
"No, it's okay…I get it…," the Latina cut her off, standing and walking toward the bedroom door, pushing away Brittany's hand as she reached up to stop her.
"Santana…wait…please don't leave like this…," Brittany followed her as she opened the door and headed quickly down the staircase, "Santana."
"Oh, are you leaving already?" Mr. Pierce asked as the wounded Latina flew past him in her rapid path to the front door.
Santana didn't answer him, afraid that if she opened her mouth, her emotions would overtake her.
"Santana…don't forget your cake," Mrs. Pierce called to her from her recliner in the living room.
The brunette did not slow to take heed of the reminder. The last thing she could stomach now was homemade chocolate cake from the woman she already thought of as her mother-in-law. She had one goal at the moment and that was to get outside without causing a scene so that she could text Quinn to pick her up a little earlier than anticipated.
"Santana!" Brittany called out again, catching up to her as she stepped out onto the front porch.
"It's all good, Britt…I'm fine…I just remembered that I need to be at work early tomorrow…I should get some rest…my stamina is still a little low…today sort of did me in," she explained more than was necessary.
Brittany grabbed her by the upper arm to stop her movement. The blonde turned Santana around and told her, "You're rambling…which means you're hurt…and that's not what I meant to do."
"No, I know…you were just answering honestly…it's fine…I'm fine," Santana hit send on the text to Quinn then looked up and forced a smile at the tall blonde.
"I love you, Santana…I don't know how many ways to say that so that you believe it," Brittany stated, her voice thick with exasperation.
"Are you saying it until I believe it…or until you believe it?"
"Why would you say that?" Brittany's blue eyes looked fiery in the setting, July sun, her hurt evident on her freckled face, "After all I've said to you…and done for you…you still doubt me?"
"You want a picket fence life…you want traditional…and the only thing I can offer you is non-traditional," Santana could no longer hold onto her emotions.
"I never said that," Brittany defended.
"That's your dream life, Britt…and I want you to have your dream life…even if it means I can't have mine," Santana choked back hot tears, "So…do us both a favor…and go back inside and eat your chocolate cake…and pet your big, fat cat…and plan out your perfect little family."
Santana's words stung with the type of hurt that Brittany had never felt before this moment. The emotional void between them felt so wide that Santana might as well have been standing on the other side of the Grand Canyon. Brittany felt frozen in place, not moving toward Santana but not retreating into her house.
Santana turned away from Brittany to face the front yard.
Brittany stood there, tears streaming down her face, looking at the back of Santana's head, her dark hair pulled up into a tight ponytail just as it had always been when they were dressed in their Cheerios uniforms.
She watched the Latina a few seconds as her shoulders shook up and down. Brittany knew Santana was crying. She reached up to wipe at her own tears, unaware of exactly what flipped their universe from the overabundance of love they felt this morning to this resentment hanging over them now.
Not knowing a single word to say, Brittany turned and walked back inside her house, shutting and locking the door behind her.
There are places I'll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all…
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you more…
In my life, I love you more.
Author's note: The songs referenced in this chapter are Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall and In My Life by The Beatles.
Love has many sides and many stages to it. Just like the moon, sometimes it can't be viewed in its complete fullness, but that doesn't mean it's not there in its entirety. Keep that in mind as you continue reading this story.