Summer Vacation
Day 13... still
Oh my god! What was I even thinking? I'm not ready for this! And I'm dragging Rachel into it!
"San?"
What the fuck am I doing?
"Sweetheart?"
This is ridiculous!
"Beautiful?"
Is Rachel talking to me?
"Santana!"
She is.
"Yeah, babe?"
"Nice of you to join me back here on Earth," she says sarcastically but in a super sweet girlfriend voice.
"I'm sorry, I just..."
"I know. It's okay, this is a big deal and you're just thinking. You're having second thoughts aren't you?"
She knows me too well.
"Is it that obvious?" I ask.
"You're like an open book with large print," she says and then laces her fingers into mine, "you have to do this, San. It's not like you're by yourself; I'll be there right next to you the whole time."
"You're right, babe. I just... I just need a few more seconds."
Well, I'd actually like a few more hours, but I don't get to have that.
"Okay, but just so you know, I think I just saw your mom walk into the restaurant. We probably shouldn't keep her waiting too long," she says squeezing my hand as she looks out the window.
Okay, I guess it's now or never, "Let's go."
"After you, sweetheart," she says bringing my hand to her lips.
I bring my hand to the handle on the door and say, "Okay... and I'm opening the door... right now... yup, right this very second..."
I'm like, staring at the handle but I'm not opening the door. Suddenly I feel Rachel leaning over me and the door is open. "You can do this, okay?" she says and then kisses me. This is like, a 'you can do anything' kiss. It's like, an 'I love you so much' kiss.
I can do this. "Okay," I answer breathily and then start stepping out of the door.
"One more," she says grabbing my shirt a little and then she kisses me again. The same encouraging, take my breath away kiss as before, "for luck."
"I've got all the luck in the world now."
"Good. Now let's go. Oh no. Wait, one second," she wipes what I can only assume is stray lip gloss off of my skin around my lips and then says, "Now we can go."
"Thanks, babe."
"Anytime, sweetheart."
After a quick little smile we both turn and get out of the car. I walk around the back and grab her hand when I get to her. I'm not changing for my mother. That's the point of this, right? We walk hand in hand to the door and keep our fingers interlocked all the way to the booth that my Mom is already sitting in.
"Hola, Mamá," I say when we get to her.
"Hola, Mijá, Rachel."
"Hola, Dr. Lopez."
"Please, call me Mari," my mother says surprisingly. I mean, I wasn't expecting her to make Rachel call her Dr. Lopez or anything, but I figured she'd say 'please, call me, Marisol.'
"I'll be honest, it might take a few tries for me to be able to do that," Rachel jokes, probably thinking about the million times she's called Papá, Dr. Lopez and not Cris.
"That's alright... you're respectful... that's a good quality," Mamá says slowly and at the last part looking at me. "Please, sit down," she says gesturing to the other side of the booth.
Oh right, that's why we're here: to have a whole dinner with her...
I let Rachel get in first and then I follow her, leaving at least a half a foot between us. I'm nervous, okay! I know I said I wasn't going to change anything, but I don't want to push things too much!
"So, what did you two do today?"
Oh god. Small talk with my mother? This is going to be painful.
"Well, Rachel had an appointment with her doctor today because it's been a week since her operation." Clearly I'm leaving out what happened directly after the appointment.
"Oh, how did it go?" my mother directs her question at Rachel.
"Good! I can go to my theatre camp next week and I can get back on the elliptical tomorrow morning!"
"Lightly, though," I say with my concerned voice.
"She's right. You should be careful. Especially if you want to be going to that camp next week. I'm assuming there's dancing involved with this theatre camp?" my mother says all concerned and out of nowhere.
Where the fuck did that come from? There is no way that Rachel was expecting that either!
"Uh... yeah. We spend the entire afternoon learning choreography." I was right! Rachel never starts a sentence with 'uh!'
"What play are you doing in your camp?"
I am absolutely dumbfounded at the interest that she's showing in Rachel. How does a person go from calling someone filth to being totally interested in their summer plans?
Rachel perks up in the booth seat and answers, "FAME! It isn't the most fantastic musical to have graced Broadway, but the part I'm playing is pretty challenging!"
I love when she gets all excited about things.
"And what part is that?" Mamá asks... with a smile... a smile!
"Carmen. She's the lead-"
Rachel is interrupted by the presence of the waiter. We actually haven't been able to look at the menu. We've been busy talking.
"Good evening, ladies. My name is William and I will be serving you, tonight. What would you like?" he says like he's reading cue cards and with a Chinese accent.
"Could we actually have a few more minutes? We haven't quite decided, yet," my mother requests.
"Of course. I will be back in a few minutes."
"I'm getting vegan General Tso's and you are not stopping me," Rachel says to me with her determined eyes.
"No way! You can't eat that yet-"
"I think she'll be fine. How do you feel, Rachel?" my mother the doctor butts in.
"Hungry," she answers, "I can't consume anymore warm liquids. Besides, it's not like the appendix actually helps you digest anything."
"Actually, there's some debate on whether or not it is actually the useless organ that we've always believed it to be, but for the most part you are correct Rachel," Mamá says all intelligently and doctor like. "What are you getting, Tana?" she asks looking back down at her menu.
"Orange chicken, but with real chicken and rice that's been fried," I say with annoyance. Rachel giggles and gives me a little kick under the table. I think that's her way of telling me to calm down. I breathe out a little laugh and the annoyance is gone.
"I think I'm going to try that meatless General Tso's that Rachel's having. White rice?"
"I'm getting brown. I know it isn't very traditional, but it's healthier," Rachel shrugs.
"Wow! Not many teenagers are so health conscious," Mamá says and then looking at me, she continues, "Estoy muy impresionado."
Rachel giggles again and then I say to my Mom, "Mamá, Rachel knows Spanish. She's actually really good. Besides, that sentence is easy to figure out even if you don't know español."
"Oh, lo siento, Rachel."
"Está bien," Rachel says with a little wave of her hand. It's super adorable. One of those times that I want to kiss her because it's so cute. Clearly, I won't.
"Okay ladies, are you ready to order now?" our Chinese waiter asks when he gets back to our table. He kind of snuck up on us this time.
To avoid the awkward, silent exchange of figuring out who goes first, I just do it, "I would like the orange chicken, with fried rice, please."
"Original or vegan?"
"Original."
Wait, they call real chicken "original?" That's kinda fucked up.
My mother gestures for Rachel to go next and she does, "I am going to have the vegan General Tso's chicken with brown rice."
"I'm going to have the same," my mother says before William can say anything else.
"Thank you very much, that should be out very soon."
How soon is soon? I'm really worried that we're going to run out of topics. Like, really worried. Food in front of us would make it all better, though. That way we'd have something to keep our mouths occupied for a while.
I'm still worried that my mother is going to ask a rude question. Actually, every time she opens her mouth I get a little bit worried.
"So," shit, here's that worry, "how long... have you two been... umm... together, exactly?"
This is one that I have to answer, "It will be three months on Sunday."
Oh, where is she going with this?
"Mija?"
Oh god.
"Sí, Mamá?"
Where is that food?
"¿Cuánto tiempo hace que conoce?"
¿Qué? How long have I known what?
I have my left hand in the space on the booth seat that's between Rachel and me. Suddenly, I feel Rachel's hand on mine. It gives me this anchored feeling.
"I don't think I know wh-"
"Orange chicken?"
Oh thank god! "Right here, thank you."
William = best waiter ever.
"And two vegan General Tso's with brown rice," the best waiter ever says taking a plate off of his arm and placing it in front of Rachel and then the other in front of my mother.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Could I have some more water, please?" I ask knowing full well that he'll interrupt another chance that my mother can have to ask her awkward questions.
"I would like more water as well, please," Rachel says to William and gives my hand a little squeeze at the same time.
"For you as, well, ma'am?" he asks my mother.
"Yes, please."
"Okay! I'll be right back!"
Okay, time to start eating. Can't talk with my mouth full, right? Mamá always told me "no hables con tu boca llena."
"¿Quiero decir cuánto tiempo hace que conoce sobre... tú sabes... esto?" she said 'esto' while looking between Rachel and me.
I know what she means now. She wants to know how long I've known that I'm gay. I'm surprised she didn't ask how long have I been gay? Actually, I'm really surprised.
Okay, how do I answer that? It's not like I've known forever, but in hindsight, it was actually pretty obvious. It took everything with Rachel almost three months ago for me to really realize it. And Brittany's coaxing, of course.
"Not very long," I answer.
"But you were always with boys..."
Oh, come on! Why now?
"It never really felt right being with boys, Mamá." I am totally about to make myself sound like a slut to my mother, but I'm pretty sure it's the only thing that's going to work, "In a three month period, any three month period between starting high school and three months ago, how many different boys was I going on dates with?"
I turn my head a little to see Rachel and her eyes are big with surprise. I feel like she A) can't believe I just asked that and B) doesn't get why I asked that.
"Ummm... I'm not really sure," my mother answers slowly.
Pfft! Why would she know? She's never around.
"A lot. Actually, most of the boys on the football team." Yeah, I went there.
"Oh."
Rachel has now directed her attention to her animal-less meal. She isn't eating it, she's just pushing things around.
"Mamá, in the last three months I have only been with one person, Rachel. She's the only person I want to be with. I love her. I've never felt like this about any boy. And I know that I'm only seventeen and I have my whole life to figure things out, but I know that this is right, okay?"
Whoa!
Where did that come from? That was fucking awesome!
I think that Rachel thinks so, too because she is squeezing my hand again.
"Okay. I just... quería escuchar que me digas eso. Yo nunca te dio la oportunidad de antes," she says with this super sad face. She turns herself a little towards Rachel, who has stopped pushing her food around, "So, Rachel?"
"Yes, Dr. Lop- Mari?" she adorably corrects herself.
"Your parents, they're... umm... two men?"
Oh no! Where is she going with this? She just asked me how long I've known I was gay! Things were going well! Why does she have to bring up Rachel's dads?
"Yes, they are," Rachel answers a little nervously for the first time since we've been here.
"Have they raised you your whole life?" Mother asks and takes a bite of her food, "hmm... this isn't bad."
What is she doing?
"They've been my parents since they took me home from the hospital," Rachel answers. I hear a tinge of defensiveness in her tone.
I have my fists balled up at my sides, pushing into the seat.
"From the hospital...?"
"Yes. They used a surrogate-"
"So you do have a mother?"
"Mamá-"
"I met my birth mother," Rachel comes back in, looking back down at her food, "that's really all she is to me."
"You didn't like her?" my mother says kind of in a nonchalant way. It's gross.
"Honestly, I don't really have a reason to," Rachel says looking back up for a moment and then back down at her food. This time she takes a bite.
"Oh really?"
Mother is starting to be awful again. You know, things were really starting to look up. I actually kind of want Rachel to lay this one on her. I want her to feel bad for making Rachel have to explain this.
Unfortunately that means that Rachel has to relive it.
"Well, she sent the star of Vocal Adrenaline, Jesse St. James, to seduce me into falling in love with him and used him to get to me. She even got him to leave Carmel and transfer to McKinley for this plan. She made a tape with her singing on it and that's how I found out she was my mother. She went through all that effort to find me and get to me. She even told me that her biggest regret in life was not seeing me grow up, then she barely wanted to speak to me. Constantly, she pushed me away and then pulled me back in. Jesse went back to Carmel and pretty much stomped all over my heart," Rachel says and takes a breath. So far she's been pretty confident. I sense something else coming though. She takes a deeper breath and then says, "I think the best part was her adopting Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman's baby, Beth. A replacement child that she gets to watch grow up."
That didn't sound bitter at all.
"Honestly, meeting her made me grateful for my Dads," Rachel finishes.
"Hmm... so you don't think that because your fathers are homosexuals, it caused you to be as well?"
And there it is. That's where this has been going.
Bitch.
"Stop," I say firmly and quietly (we are in public), "Right now. Stop. You know full well that's ridic-"
"Well honestly, I can't help but think that she made you this way. You said it yourself, you haven't known for very long that you were like this. It must be her fault," she says with this obnoxious shrug and then taking a bite of her vegan chicken.
"Are you kidding me right now?"
"San," Rachel whispers.
"No, Rachel, I'm not going to let her talk to you like this. Again!" I'm not. This is ending here and now. "Rachel didn't make me gay, mother. Don't blame my girlfriend and her upbringing. Being gay isn't some cult. It just happens and until that gets through your head, I don't think I want to be around you."
"Mija-?"
"No. We're leaving. Come on, Rachel," I say grabbing her hand and starting to slide out of the booth.
Rachel moves with me but doesn't say anything. What could she possibly say? This must be terribly awkward for her.
Once she's up I start walking away from the booth but I get this thought and turn around, "You know, you really had me convinced that you had changed. Of course it was too good to be true. Llámame cuando no eres tan ignorante. Come on, Rach."
I turn back around and head for the door with Rachel's hand in mine. I don't stop. I don't look back. I just open the door, walk out, and hold it for Rachel to walk through. I shove my hand into my pocket and pull out my keys. We're in my car within a few seconds.
I wish I knew what to say right now. I'm just sitting behind the wheel, with the key in the ignition. Rachel's sitting next to me, just as silent. I'm not looking at her but I can feel her eyes on my.
I have to say something.
How about what I often find myself saying to her.
"I'm sorry."
She reaches over and takes my hand, "Sweetheart, explain to me what part of that was your fault?"
"It... I... she's such a fucking bitch! How can she say all those great things to me and then do this?" I actually smack my steering I'm so angry.
"Sounds familiar."
"Oh my god! Like, what the fuck? You know, she promised this dinner was going to be good," I roll my eyes and fight off the tears beginning to take over in my throat, "another broken promise."
Fuck. Here come those tears.
"Oh, sweetheart," Rachel says stroking up and down my arm.
"I just want to go home," I turn to look at her and I can barely see; the tears came on fast and in abundance, "I think you're gonna have to drive, babe."
"Okay," she says and lifts my hand to her lips. I love when she does that. It's so simple and like, old fashioned. It's perfect.
We both get out of the car. I keep my eyes down until I get to the back of it, expecting to meet Rachel there, but I don't. I look up more and see Rachel standing there, staring at something on the other side of the aisle of parked cars.
I'm actually afraid to turn and look. I know what she's staring at.
"Rachel, come on. Let's go home," I say to her and then look directly at my mother. I say it loud so she can hear me call someone else's home my own, "Leroy and Hiram are probably waiting for us."
"Yeah, you're probably right," she says and finally starts walking around to the driver's side.
After I hear the driver's door open and close, I get this impulse. Of course I have to follow it, "Go on home and tell Papá about how great this dinner went, Mamá. Good. Just like you promised, right?" I don't let her answer and as soon the words are done spilling out of my mouth, I open the passenger door and step into the car.
"What did you say to her?" Rachel asks after putting the car in reverse.
"Take your foot off the brake and I'll tell you," I say. I can't even be in the same parking lot as my mother right now. As she's backing out of the space, I answer her question, "I told her to go tell Papá that dinner went great. I know she's going to lie to him and say that it did."
"Why would she do that?" Rachel asks as she stops and looks both ways before turning onto the empty street.
"Babe, we're talking about my mother here. My mother. I got my conniving ways from somewhere didn't I?" I say crossing my arms and looking out the window at the passing buildings.
"You aren't conniv-"
"I was. Don't deny that. Sometimes I still am. It's impossible to completely change yourself, Rach. You can't deny that."
I hate how true that is.
"Fine, but you can't deny that you're better and you're going to start using your powers for good instead of evil," Rachel says with a smile.
"Right," I say with a laugh.
"Well, who do you think your dad is going to believe? You or your mother?" she asks just as we pull up to red light.
"Hopefully me, but why should he even have to deal with that? He shouldn't have to decide which one of us is telling the truth. She shouldn't do that to him," I say shifting in the seat to turn to her.
The light turns green and Rachel pushes on the gas pedal, "I think you should call him... now."
That's a good idea! Of course Rachel thought of it and not me. She always thinks so logically. Okay maybe not always, but more often than I do.
"I'm putting it on speaker," I say as press send and push the speaker phone button.
"Mija, what did you do?" Papá asks the instant he answers.
What's worse than being furious? Whatever that is, I'm it.
"I didn't do anything!" I spit out.
"Eso no es lo que dice tu madre!"
"Well she's lying to you Papá!"
"¿Por qué mentiría a mí?"
"Because she's crazy, Papá! She blamed Rachel for me being gay! She tried to say that Rachel made me gay! That's absurd and ridiculously ignorant!" I practically yell into the phone.
"Tu madre no es loca."
Really? That's what he chose to respond to.
"You have to believe me, okay! Rachel, tell him what she said!" I know I shouldn't bring her into this but she's the only witness. Luckily she's on my side.
Rachel sighs and says, "She thought that... she thought that because my Dads are gay, they made me gay and then I turned Santana gay."
"Okay, maybe that is a little crazy," Papá says finally agreeing with me.
"See, Papá?"
"Yes, Mija. I'm going to talk to her again. I'm sorry that this happened girls. I have to go. I hope your night gets better."
"Thanks, Cris."
"Thanks, Papá. Te amo," I say.
"Te amo, también. Adios."
"Adios," both Rachel and I say, then I press the end button.
"Wow, you were right," Rachel says as she pulls up to the house.
"Yeah, I know. Babe, I really don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's just go inside and cuddle. I don't want to use my brain anymore," I say, letting my head fall back and hit the head rest on the seat.
"Okay, beautiful."
I feel like shit. Absolute shit. Drop Dead Gorgeous, one of the funniest movies I have ever seen, is not even cheering me up. Cuddling with Rachel helps, but it doesn't really halt the thoughts running through my head.
Really, I'm kind of a mess.
Talking to L and H definitely didn't help. I didn't want to say anything to them, but Rachel insisted. Needless to say, they're a little agitated. I mean, they have every reason to be! Their daughter was attacked because of their non-traditional family. That's why I didn't want to tell them. Now they really don't like my mother. Okay so they didn't say that, but why wouldn't they? She insulted their parenting skills by saying they brainwashed their daughter into being gay and that she did the same to me.
This is giving me a headache.
I'm just going to dig my face into Rachel's chest and hope the pain sitting just above eye disappears.
"The movie isn't helping, is it?"
"No," I sigh into Rachel's chest.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Right now, how much my head hurts."
"Sweetheart," she says lifting my chin with her fingertips, "you have to stop. None of this is your fault."
I roll my eyes and put my face back into her chest. I know it isn't my fault, but it doesn't stop me from thinking about how awful I feel.
After letting out her own sigh, Rachel pauses the movie and says, "Tell me what you're thinking about. I know nothing I say is going to make you feel better, but trust me, getting what you're thinking out of your head helps."
"My mother sucks," I say into her chest.
"That can't be all you're that's on your mind," she says.
I pick my head up and say, "Yeah, that's pretty much the big picture. Everything I'm thinking about basically stems out of her sucking major ass." I bring my knees up, resting my chin on them and say, "I feel like all those things she said to me at the hospital were just a way to get us to dinner so she could confront you about her fucked up theory. She just... sucks!"
"You really think that your mother used a rouse to get us to dinner?" Rachel asks incredulously.
Why doesn't she believe me when I say that my ninja manipulation skills were genetically inherited from my mother? She's actually better at manipulating people than I am!
"Just believe me, okay?"
"Fine."
"Thank you," I say and dig my chin deeper into my knees.
We sit together in the quiet for a little while. The only noise in the room is slight creek the floor makes when Rachel pushes off of it to adjust the way she's sitting on the sectional. She turns her body around to face me, bringing one of her knees up against the back of of the couch and her other leg tucked underneath, lying across the seat.
Hmm... giving all of my attention to Rachel kind of eases the pain in my head. It's a much better use of my concentration.
"You aren't going to give up, are you?" Rachel asks breaking into the quiet I was actually enjoying.
After the shit show that was dinner with my mother, I think giving up on her being in my life is a good idea.
Papá would hate that, though.
"I don't know," is the best answer for her question that I can come up with.
"I don't think you should," she says with her most convincing facial expression.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah! Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but bear with me for a second," she says.
She seems pretty excited about what she's going to say to me. I'm thinking this is some sort of crazy hypothesis she's come up with in regards to my mother.
"Lay it on me, babe."
"Your mother loves you."
Is that it? That's what she was so excited about?
"Okay...?"
"That's why she's doing all this," she says as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. I still don't see where she's going with this and she can tell because she rolls her eyes and continues, "Okay, how do I explain this? Oh! Remember our first date?"
"I will never forget our first date," I answer because I won't... ever.
"Me neither," she says with a smile and then continues, "You told me you came out to your dad right before you left your house and you also told me that you were afraid to tell your mom because she's Latina and Catholic-"
"I still don't see where your going with this," I say rolling my eyes.
"Well, if you'd let me finish what I'm trying to say you might," she huffs at me.
"Sorry."
She gives me a little scowl and then starts again, "You said you were afraid to tell your mother because she's Latina, Catholic and 'loves you too much.' San, I think she just needs more time. I don't think she would have even been able to be in the same room with you, let alone both of us if she hadn't actually made any progress at all. I think she's fighting herself or something. Like, half of her wants to accept you for who you are because she loves you, but the other half doesn't want to for the exact same reason."
Well... that's complicated.
"Were you like, a psychiatrist in another life or something?" I ask despite the fact that I only slightly believe in past lives and whatnot.
Rachel laughs at my question and says, "I think you are the last person I would ever expect to believe in reincarnation." She laughs even harder and once it slows down she says, "I think I've just had enough of my own therapy. So, what do you think?"
As complicated and twisted as her idea is, it does make sense.
"Okay."
"Okay... what?"
"I won't give up-"
"Yay!" Rachel practically jumps off the couch with all of her excitement.
"Yet," I finish and Rachel sighs, "Rach, there's only so much rejection from my own mother that I can take."
She gets this sad look on her face and I know she gets it, but she still says, "I understand."
I reach my hand forward a little bit and link my fingers with Rachel's. As I stare at our fingers intertwined together I say, "I'm really tired."
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep?" she asks as she starts to absent-mindedly tangle and untangle our fingers.
"I don't know. But I do know that I could use a Rachel Blanket right about now," I say shamelessly.
"You're wish is my command! Come on, let's go upstairs," she says getting up from the sectional and dragging me up right after her.
"Gladly," I answer and follow her into the kitchen, up the stairs, into her room and directly into bed.
I'm going to try really hard not to think about, not thinking about what happened today. Maybe that way I won't think about what happened today.
It's going to be a long night.
At least I have my Rachel Blanket.
Estoy muy impresionado - I am very impressed.
Lo siento - I'm sorry
Está bien - It's okay.
¿Cuánto tiempo hace que conoce? - How long have you known?
¿Qué? - What?
¿Quiero decir cuánto tiempo hace que conoce sobre... tú sabes... esto? - How long have you known about... you know... this?
quería escuchar que me digas eso. Yo nunca te dio la oportunidad de antes - I wanted to hear you say that. I never gave you the chance before.
Llámame cuando no eres tan ignorante. - Call me when you aren't so ignorant.
Eso no es lo que dice tu madre! - That's not what your mother says.
¿Por qué mentiría a mí? - Why would she lie to me?
Tu madre no es loca. - Your mother isn't crazy.