Author's Note: So, as usual, this chapter was getting epically long, so I thought I'd break it into pieces and give you the beginning right now. To be honest, it's my least favorite thing I've ever written, but, you know, it is what it is. The next part will probably be up in the next couple of days. And as always, I can't thank you guys enough for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it so much :)
"Your kids are a handful, Quinn."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn said. Rachel rolled her eyes.
"I have never, ever, not even for a moment, in my thirty years on this earth sympathized with Santana Pierce-Lopez, until today at the park."
"Not even when she was all sad and moping around in love with Brittany in high school?"
"No, she should have just told her. Everyone else knew that Santana was in love with Brittany."
"Not even when Brittany's parents didn't take it so well?"
"Maybe, but mostly I felt bad for Brittany." Rachel said. "And don't try to change the subject. This is about your children."
"You brought up Santana." Quinn pointed out.
"Just to make a point," Rachel said, "I finally understand her…difficulty…when she and Brittany baby-sit."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Quinn said, smirking at Rachel across the kitchen island.
"I need a big glass of wine and an ice pack." Rachel said.
"Why?" Quinn asked.
"I need the wine to calm my nerves and the ice pack to reduce the swelling in my eye, Quinn Fabray!" Rachel said, exasperated. "You know Baz is going to kill you if we have to halt production for another day, because your child gives out black eyes like it's her business…"
"Whatever…you know that everyone knows that Santana Lopez is my best friend and therefore no one can mess with me because everyone is too scared of her."
"I just truly find that hard to believe after seeing her Friday night…" Rachel said. Quinn laughed and pulled two wine glasses off of a shelf.
"You were finally allowed into an intimate circle of Santana Lopez around one Miss Brittany Pierce," Quinn explained, picking a bottle of wine from the wine cabinet. "Let me guess, she looked at, or worse, flirted with, some girl, and was turned into some blubbering, sad ball of confusion?" Rachel looked at Quinn confused that she knew exactly what had happened, but nodded nonetheless. "You see, the thing to know about Santana is that Brittany is her Achilles heal. Santana Pierce-Lopez made Darren Aronofsky cry. She had creative control on James Cameron's latest movie. Leonardo DiCaprio is afraid to work with her, Angelina Jolie won't work unless Santana is involved in the picture, and Meryl Streep thanked her during her lifetime achievement award at the Oscars a few years ago. Because none of these people know Brittany Pierce-Lopez. You've just been inducted into the small group who knows that Santana cracks like a little baby when it comes to her wife. You should be proud!" Quinn handed a glass of wine to Rachel.
"I don't know if I want that kind of power."
"Too late, you have to deal with it." Quinn said, laughing.
"Give me that ice pack." Rachel said. Quinn held it close to her chest.
"Let's go outside. It's too beautiful tonight to waste it in here." Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand and led her to the backyard. Rachel assumed they would sit on the patio, but Quinn led her past the patio and past the pool and into an open space between some palm trees. Quinn gently led Rachel onto the ground.
"What are we doing?" Rachel asked, holding her knees and looking at Quinn who had laid down I the grass with the ice pack in her hand.
"Lay down," Quinn said, gently pulling Rachel down with her hand. "Sometimes, when I've had a particularly difficult day, I like to lay out here, as far away from the lights of the house as possible." Quinn said. She still had her right hand in Rachel's and she rolled over for a second to place the ice pack on the eye her daughter had blackened. "It kind of reminds me of Lima, you know? I mean…there are no stars out here, but it's kind of nice to pretend that I can see them, and like I'm a little kid looking at the constellations and chasing fireflies." Rachel held the ice pack close to her head, feeling far too aware of the fact that Quinn was still gripping her hand tightly. They lay in silence for a moment, both wishing for some stars to appear in the polluted Los Angeles sky. "It's too hard to talk this way though," Quinn said, laughing, turning to look at Rachel. "And more importantly, it's too hard to drink. I just wanted to show you." She pulled Rachel up and led her over to the bench swing. They sat next to each other, sipping on their wine. Quinn had her knees propped up to her chest and was facing Rachel who sat straight ahead, her legs swinging the bench in a steady rhythm. She lifted her hand and inspected the bruise forming above Rachel's eye.
"You know, I'm okay with my daughter taking after her father and being a football player, but…she really doesn't have his arm." Quinn laughed, as she gently ran her hand across the rapidly darkening spot above Rachel's eye. Rachel turned to face Quinn.
"Again, like I said, I have felt sympathy for Santana for the first time." Rachel sipped on her wine, trying to avoid eye contact with Quinn. It was difficult seeing as Quinn's hand was still gently on the bruise that she seemed to be examining.
"I don't think it's going to be that bad, Rach," Quinn said, still lightly touching Rachel's bruise. Rachel looked down at her feet. "What's wrong?" Quinn asked.
"Nothing's wrong." Rachel said. Quinn ran her hand through Rachel's hair, again resting it on that spot between her chin and cheek where her hand seemed to fit so perfectly.
"You're lying," Quinn said.
"Yeah," Rachel said, still not looking up at Quinn.
"So tell me, what's wrong? That's what best friends are for, right? I don't care that we're thirty…we still need friends…"
"I don't know…I guess I just feel like I missed out on something along the way. And now, I'm thirty, and I have everything I could have dreamed of when I was sixteen, but the cost is loneliness."
"You have me." Quinn said softly.
"It's not the same thing. You know that."
"Well, I kind of have the opposite problem." Rachel looked up at Quinn.
"What do you mean?"
"You know I double majored in theater and English in college?" Rachel shook her head. "I loved it. You know, I got to harness all that bitchiness into acting and all of that lying to my various boyfriends into storytelling. I had plans, you know, beyond the husband and the family…I was going to pull a Yentl, eventually," Quinn said. Rachel's head flew back with laughter at this declaration. "Seriously, Rach!"
"I have no idea what you mean…you were going to dress like a boy so you could study the Talmud?" Rachel asked. Quinn laughed.
"No, I mean, more like I was going to be such a superstar that I would write a book, have it optioned into a movie, weasel my way into creative control, and, like your idol Barbra, when that movie hit the big screen it would be written by Quinn Fabray, based on a story by Quinn Fabray, starring Quinn Fabray, and produced and directed by, one, Quinn Fabray."
"Those are big dreams, Q." They sat in the kind of comfortable silence again for awhile. Rachel chuckled silently to herself.
"Why are you laughing, Rach?" Quinn asked.
"Because everyone prepares you that being a teenager is going to be difficult, and confusing, and rough. But no one ever says that it's really just preparation for the rest of your life." Quinn thought about this for a minute.
"I have no more idea of who I am today than when I was sixteen."
"Exactly."
"We'll figure it out one day, Rach."
"You think?"
"Definitely. Let's go to bed." They walked into the house, and, as usual, paused at the top of the stairs when Rachel was going to go right to the guest bedroom and Quinn was going to go left to the master bedroom.
"You know, Rach, you can be the Mandy Patinkin in my Yentl…"
"Great. So I get to be the overtalented actor/singer who doesn't get to actually showcase my talents in your magnum opus."
"Exactly," Quinn said.
"I look forward to it," Rachel said. Quinn pulled Rachel in for a hug.
"Night, Rach." She subconsciously buried her head in Rachel's hair.
"Night, Q. Have beautiful dreams. I'll see you in the morning." They lingered on the stairs for a second hugging. As they pulled away, Quinn held tightly to Rachel's hand and they made the eye contact Rachel had so intensely been avoiding all day.
"Yup," Quinn said, as she finally separated from Rachel. "See you in the morning." They walked their separate ways.
Quinn's heart still felt like it was in her throat when she crawled into bed. She could hear the shower turn on in the guest bedroom down the hall.
"Get a grip on yourself, Fabray," Quinn said out loud to herself in her big, empty room. She squeezed her eyes shut ad began to count backwards from 100 in her head, like she did when she was a little kid and she had a bad dream. As long as she could stop herself from thinking, everything would be fine. As long as she could stop herself from acknowledging that something even existed that she was contemplating thinking about, everything would be fine. Everything would be fine, she thought, as she approached 0. She lay in silence again, her thoughts threatening to creep into her mind. 100 may have worked when she was ten, but she was in the big leagues now. 500, 499, 498, 497…