Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews everyone! They got me to get this chapter up quickly!
"Are you sure we should still have people over for Thanksgiving this year, Britt?" Santana asked Brittany as they stood in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Brittany looked over at Santana with her toothbrush still hanging out of her mouth.
"What do you mean?" Brittany said, her mouth still full of minty bubbles. Santana laughed out loud.
"You look like you have rabies, Brittany," she said. Brittany leaned into the sink and splashed water into her mouth.
"What do you mean not have Thanksgiving? We always do Thanksgiving here, and it's too late to book a flight back to Lima, and my sister is going to be here since she didn't want to go all the way to Lima since her Thanksgiving break is so short."
"The house is a wreck though, Britt. There's literally a hole in the ceiling of the guest room and a half-finished staircase." Santana said, rubbing her face lotion in.
"We can't break tradition, honey," Brittany said, wrapping her arms around Santana's waist and resting her head on her shoulder so that they made eye contact in the mirror. "It will all work out, okay?" She said, giving Santana a kiss on the cheek. "You smell good," Brittany said, catching Santana's eye in the mirror again and smiling at Santana's soft smile. "Come to bed," she said, kissing Santana again on the cheek and walking back into their bedroom.
"I hate going to these things by myself," Rachel said, sighing as she threw her head back into the pillow on her couch in her LA apartment.
"I'm going by myself," Kurt said, looking up from Rachel's fridge. "Also, you should really put something in this fridge. An empty fridge makes a life look dismal. Like a storefront window full of naked mannequins. It's depressing."
"What about…what's his name?"
"Exactly. What's his name. He didn't make an impression on anyone, including me, so Kurt Hummel is going stag to the Pierce-Lopez Thanksgiving Extravaganza yet again."
"We can be one another's dates!" Rachel said, cheerily.
"More like one another's beards." Kurt said. "Now I'm having horrible flashbacks of Santana and Dave Karofsky in high school. Thanks so much, Rach. You've ruined my night." Rachel threw a pillow at him and Kurt threw himself on the couch, opposite Rachel. "Now…don't get me wrong. I love New York. No other city will ever match the passion, the drama, the fast-paced joie de vivre that New York possesses. But every time I'm back in LA…"
"The weather." Rachel said simply.
"The weather," Kurt replied. "It's just so lovely here. Who needs love when we have the beautiful sun to look forward to tomorrow morning? The fall breeze that cuts into the mid-70's November weather, the palm trees ghosting over our skin…"
"How poetic of you, Kurt."
"Let's walk down to Counterpoint tomorrow."
"What's Counterpoint?"
"You've been living in Franklin Village how long and you haven't been to Counterpoint?" Kurt asked her, incredulously. "It's a record and book store…but…they have used sheet music! It really is a gem."
"Okay," Rachel said sleepily.
"Don't worry too much about Britt's and Santana's. I've been doing their Thanksgiving for years. There are always a lot of people, a lot of delicious food, and a lot of general thankfulness."
"Thanks for being here, Kurt," Rachel said, reaching across the couch to grab Kurt's hand.
"Thank you, Rachel." Kurt said, grinning.
"Thanks for making room for me this week," Quinn said as she sat down in Dr. Phillips' office.
"Of course, Quinn."
"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" Quinn asked.
"I spend Thanksgiving in Carmel with my family."
"I hope I'm not interfering with your plans."
"Not at all, Quinn. I wasn't planning on leaving until tomorrow."
"Carmel is lovely. It must be a little chilly this time of year?"
"It is. Now, Quinn, I'm assuming you didn't come here just to talk to me about my exciting Thanksgiving plans." Quinn shook her head and they sat for a few moments in silence .It was her fourth meeting with Dr. Phillips, but Quinn sometimes found it difficult to open up when she first entered the office.
"You know, Santana is my best friend." Dr. Phillips nodded. "We met in middle school, and Santana and Brittany were already best friends. I knew they were the popular, pretty girls, and I desperately wanted to be friends with them. Brittany, of course, let me in with open arms, but it took Santana a little longer to come around. In the end, though, I became closer to Santana than Brittany. I always thought Santana might be a lesbian. It was a bunch of things. The way she looked at Brittany, the way she never seemed to actually like boys, just use them for popularity. We made out once," Quinn said nervously. "Brittany was there. We were 14."
"It's perfectly natural for young girls to experiment with their sexuality."
"Anyway, I never had a problem with Santana being a lesbian. In fact, I never really understood why it took her so long to come out of the closet. Like, everyone knew she was gay. Our school newspaper even ran something about it in the blind items column."
"Your school newspaper ran a blind items column?" Dr. Phillips said, incredulously.
"Yeah…you know, in retrospect, especially now that I have my own children, McKinley High was pretty questionable in a lot of ways."
"Why are you telling me all of this now?" Dr. Phillips asked.
"Justin is coming home for Thanksgiving. We always do Thanksgiving with Brittany and Santana. I haven't seen him in over a month. I know he's not going to be happy that I'm going back to school. I don't feel badly for not telling him. I was mad. I was mad after he told me he was going to change again and then he didn't. I spent weeks moping around the house. Then I was mad at myself. Mad for thinking that after 8 years of broken promises that this time would be different. Now I'm just tired. I'm so tired. I'm tired of feeling bad about myself and I'm tired of feeling lonely. I've given him so many ultimatums and things never change."
"Then why don't you tell him that, Quinn?"
"I'm afraid. I've told him before, and he's never changed. I don't know what I'm going to do as a single mother, as a single person for that matter."
"Talking to Justin doesn't automatically equal being single again. Why do you make that assumption?" Quinn paused for a moment, thinking.
"I think, I think I want him to leave me. I want it to be over, but I'm just so afraid of being the one to do it, of the consequences of ending my marriage. I've been done for years though." Dr. Phillips nodded.
"Quinn, why did you preface this with the fact that you accept that Santana is a lesbian?"
"I…I haven't been totally honest with you about my affair. I was sleeping with a friend from high school, but not a male friend, a female friend," Quinn choked out. Dr. Phillips nodded. "You're not surprised at all."
"Well, you've been talking about 'the person your having an affair with' instead of using a gendered pronoun for weeks. How does it make you feel?"
"I'm scared. She won't talk to me now anyway, not really. I'm not a lesbian; I know I did love Finn and Justin at one point, but I'm afraid of what it means to be viewed as a lesbian if I start dating Rachel. If Rachel would even have me again."
"Quinn, I think you need to take things one step at a time. Today, you are still Quinn Fabray-Scott, married mother of three. Deal with your marriage this week. Even if that means ending your marriage, do what you need to do so you feel good about yourself before you start worrying about who you may date in the future." Quinn nodded.
"Thanks, Dr. Phillips."
"Of course, Quinn." Quinn got up and put her clutch under her arm. "You took a huge step today in admitting your non-heterosexuality to me. You should be proud of that. I'll see you next week?" Quinn nodded again. "Oh, and happy thanksgiving!"
"Thanksgiving," Santana sang to the tune of Trouty Mouth. "How you suck. I'm sick of stuffing all this cornbread up a duck." Brittany rolled her eyes while Santana looked over the stuffing recipe. "Wanna stick a cleaver, in this stupid frozen bird, if I have to cook again I'm gonna…I'm gonna."
"Want me to get out Mr. Schue's old rhyming dictionary, Santana?" Brittany asked smirking. Santana scowled at her. "You really are a one-hit wonder, aren't you?"
"You should be nicer to me, Brittany. You know how I feel about preparing Thanksgiving dinner."
"I know," Brittany said, wrapping her flour-covered hands around Santana's waist. "But you always have fun in the end."
"We're being super organized this year, Britt. I'm going full Rachel Berry."
"I don't know what that means."
"I've made a chart of what everyone is bringing and what we are making and how long everything takes to cook."
"That's cute, Santana. See, you love Thanksgiving."
"Cedes! I have you on speaker phone, I'm over at Rachel's." Kurt yelled into his phone.
"You don't have to yell, Kurt! Hi, Rachel!"
"Hi, Mercedes!"
"Santana won't stop calling about what we're bringing for Thanksgiving. What are you guys bringing?"
"So funny you ask, we were just preparing our dishes as you called! I'm making my famous foie gras, no thanks to the Home Ec department at McKinley High School."
"And I'm making an autumn vegetables vegan casserole and vegan mashed potatoes."
"I was thinking something simple like Sweet Potato Pie?" Mercedes said, nervously.
"You should call Quinn. I think she and the girls are making some sort of dessert," Kurt yelled into the phone.
"You're going to bust my eardrums and bust my career with all your yelling, Kurt Hummel. I'll call Quinn. Have fun, guys!" Mercedes hung up the phone.
"Hi, Quinn, it's Mercedes!"
"Hi, Mercedes. How are you?" Quinn yelled over the sound of her screaming daughters.
"Not bad. I just got off the phone with Rachel and Kurt, and they tell me you're bringing some desserts to Satan's Thanksgiving? I just wanted to make sure we don't overlap." Mercedes said.
"Apple pie and cherry pie…Hannah! Hannah! The flour belongs in the bowl, not in your sister's hair!"
"Well. Imma let you go, Quinn, it sounds like you have your hands full."
"Hold on a second, are Kurt and Rachel going to Thanksgiving this year?"
"Yup, practically the whole gang back together again!"
"Great."
"See you tomorrow!" Justin snaked up behind Quinn after she hung up the phone.
"Who was that?"
"Mercedes, checking to see what we were bringing tomorrow."
"Nice. Pie. Is there anything I can help with?"
"No, not really," Quinn said. She picked up her phone and walked to the office.
"Hi, Quinn, what's up?"
"How come you didn't tell me Rachel was coming to Thanksgiving?"
"I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Plus, I'm kind of busy trying to cook for Thanksgiving. "
"Well, it would have been nice to have the heads up, Santana." Quinn hung up the phone and went back to the kitchen.
"Who was that?" Justin asked.
"Santana."
"You sure I can't help with anything? I'm actually quite handy in the kitchen, if you recall."
"I'm sure. Hey, what do you think about not going to Britt and Santana's for Thanksgiving this year?" Quinn asked, not looking up from her recipe."
"But we have all of these pies." Justin replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I know, but there are going to be a lot of people there, maybe we could just spend a nice Thanksgiving at home. Quiet. Just us and the kids."
"We always spend Thanksgiving with Brittany and Santana. They're family. Plus, the girls are looking forward to it."
"I know, but…"
"What's going on, Quinn? This is our family tradition, you love Thanksgiving. You're making two pies and a batch of cookies."
"Maybe I'm not feeling very much like tradition this year. Maybe I want something new."
"Okay, family vote," Justin said, puffing up his chest. "Who wants to go to Aunt Santana's for Thanksgiving?" All three girls raised their hands. "That's it, unanimous. This family is a democracy." Quinn scoffed. She returned to her recipe in silence.
"I just got the materials for my classes that start in January." Quinn said, breaking the awkward silence and breaking an egg into a bowl.
"What classes?"
"Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you. I'm taking classes at UCLA's Writer's Workshop."
"Why?"
"Because I want to get back into writing?"
"You should have told me, Quinn. Who's going to watch the kids?"
"The kids are in school all day, Justin, and I want to get back to work."
"Isn't this enough for you?" He asked, making light of the situation and making puppy dog eyes at her.
"It's not funny, Justin."
"Well, you should have discussed it with me beforehand."
"I didn't realize I needed your permission."
"Seriously, Quinn. What's going on with you? You've been trying to pick a fight with me ever since I got back."
"Nothing. Just let me get back to finishing these pies."
"Fine. I'll go watch some TV." Justin stormed out of the room. Quinn put her cheerios smile on. "Who wants to help mommy make some crust?"
Santana had spent the last three days organizing Thanksgiving dinner. She had chopped all the vegetables needed a few days earlier, the turkey had been defrosting for a week, and she knew the exact time it had to go in the oven to be a perfect golden brown by 4:30. Still, the moment the day arrived she everything became hectic. It was inevitable that Lola would pee in the kitchen and Olivia would be fussy and Brittany would spill all the milk the night before. Next year, she'd have to make a list of possible unforeseen delays as well as her list of cook times and prep times and ingredients. She groaned as the doorbell rang yet again, wiping her wet hands on her apron.
"Well, well, well," Santana said, opening the door. "If it isn't the long-lost sister-in-law." Santana crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's nice to see you too, Santana. This is my roommate, Daisy. Daisy, this is my sister-in-law, Santana."
"It's very nice to meet you, Daisy. Perhaps you can explain why Gracie here is in school twenty minutes away and has only been by once this semester to visit her sister and her niece and nephew?" Daisy looked nervous.
"Ignore her, Daisy. She's a bitch." Daisy's nervousness increased.
"Come here, kid," Santana said, pulling Gracie in for a hug. Gracie picked Santana up. "Okay, just because you're taller than me does not give you the right to manhandle me!" Santana yelled batting at her.
"It's the right of all Pierce women, I believe." Santana rolled her eyes as Gracie put her down. She noticed the confusion in Daisy's eyes. "Don't worry Dais, it's just a little banter amongst family. But, seriously, Santana can be kind of a bitch." Daisy laughed and Santana glared at Gracie. "C'mon, I want you to meet my sister and my niece and nephew," Gracie said, dragging Daisy down the hall. "Woah, what's going on there?" She asked, noting the partially finished stairwell.
"Well, if you ever came to visit you would know we're adding a second floor." Gracies' eyes widened.
"Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" She asked, excitedly putting her hand on Santana's stomach. Santana batted her hand away.
"No! My mother is moving in. God. And why would I be the one to get pregnant?"
"I may not visit all that often, but I still talk to Britt and she told me about your plans for baby number three."
"Jesus. Go find your sister. I need an Advil." Santana turned and walked toward her and Brittany's bedroom.
"GRACIE!" Brittany squealed as her sister walked in the room.
"Hi, Brittany!" Gracie said, pulling her sister in for a hug. Gracie was the spitting image of Brittany, just a little lankier than her older sister and with a short, blond bob instead of long blond hair. "This is my roommate, Daisy."
"It's really nice to meet you," Daisy said. "Grace talks about you all the time."
"That's shocking considering how rarely she's been out to see us lately," Brittany said, looking disapprovingly at her sister.
"They're worse than my parents," Gracie winked over at Daisy. Brittany gave Daisy a playful nudge.
"How is everything? I need to know and I have nothing but time," Brittany said to her sister.
"First, I need a glass of wine and to see my niece and nephew," Gracie said.
"Both can be arranged," Brittany said, smiling, and led Grace and her roommate to the living room. Brittany poured her a glass and they sat on the couch.
"Have you talked to mom and dad yet today?" Gracie asked, swirling the wine around in her glass.
"No, I was going to call them in a bit…when Santana was free…" Brittany said, glancing over at Santana who was swearing at the Turkey in Spanish as she basted it.
"Alexis is bringing some guy home."
"What? Like a guy she is dating?"
"Yup. Mom and Dad are freaking out. You know Lex…she never lets anyone know what's going on in her personal life."
"He must be really special."
"I guess. She hasn't really said much to me about him before. Apparently they work in the lab together."
"Obviously. I can't picture Lex ever coming home with a guy who isn't one of those bones nerds like her."
"My other sister works in forensics," Gracie explained to Daisy. "Apparently, the plan was to bring him home for Christmas…" Brittany's eyes widened.
"Oh, everyone knows you don't bring someone new to Christmas." Brittany said, nodding matter-of-factly to Daisy.
"Why don't you bring someone home for Christmas?" Daisy asked.
"Well you do, eventually," Gracie explained.
"It's just…ever since Santana and I moved out here, we do Christmas all together."
"So, it's all the Lopez's and all the Pierce's." Gracie explained.
"There are a lot of us…it can be a bit…overwhelming."
"I mean…this is pretty overwhelming. There are an awful lot of you here." Daisy said, eyeing the room.
"Wait until you see Christmas," Brittany said, knowingly. "I think I should check on Santana." Brittany said, glancing over at Santana who appeared to be talking to a pot of cranberry sauce. Gracie nodded.
"I think your sister just invited me to Christmas," Daisy said, nudging Gracie as Brittany walked off.
"I don't think you want to be involved in a Pierce-Lopez Christmas," Gracie said.
"Really, Gracie?"
"Really. Also, I'm 21. Only my sister can call me Gracie anymore. I'm Grace."
"Whatever you say, Gracie."
"So…I take it you're drinking again?" Santana asked Quinn as she sprinkled a final layer of cheese on her Macaroni and Cheese and shoved it back in the oven. Quinn looked down at her glass of wine.
"It's been a month since I had a drink, Santana, and it's a special occasion. And it's my first glass of the day. Which in itself is admirable." Santana clinked her glass with Quinn and they both took a sip. "I need you to give me something to do."
"Why?" Santana asked.
"I'm hiding."
"Hiding from whom?" She asked, checking on the yams in the oven.
"My husband, Rachel, Kurt, and Mercedes."
"Why?"
"I don't want to talk to my husband. Me + alcohol + special event = word vomit. The same story goes with Rachel. I'm sure Kurt knows, he and Rachel are close and they both were just on a little vacation in Manhattan. And if Kurt knows something, you know Mercedes knows it too."
"I think Mercedes is pregnant."
"What? Why?"
"She's not drinking, and she has that glow about her," Santana said knowingly. "Anyway, if you're going to be in the kitchen, you're going to help. Brittany is off gossiping with her sister, and I have like nine different dishes going at once." Quinn nodded. "Okay, I just need you to stir the gravy." Quinn walked over to the pot simmering on the stove and began to slowly stir the wooden spoon. They worked in silence for a bit, listening to the music playing in the next room and their friends and family eating and making small talk. "What kind of word vomit are you worried about?"
"I'm going to leave Justin," Quinn said, softly.
"What?" Santana asked, looking up from the potatoes she was mashing furiously to gape at Quinn.
"I don't want to do it over the holiday's though. So I just have to avoid him."
"Quinn. This is huge."
"Keep mashing your potatoes. This is not huge. We all knew this was going to happen eventually."
"Still," Santana said, pouring a little more milk into the potatoes. "I never thought I'd hear you actually say it."
"Well, we'll see if I can get through the weekend without saying it to him."
"Are you okay?" Santana asked quietly as she put all of her strength into the potatoes again, trying to pretend she wasn't a little out of breath.
"Surprisingly, I'm fine. I don't love him, Santana."
"I know." Santana said softly, catching Brittany's figure enter the kitchen out of the corner of her eye.
"You ladies seemed like you needed some help," Brittany said, smiling at Quinn and Santana.
"Obviously. Why do we keep doing Thanksgiving here?" Santana asked Brittany, wondering if she should check the yams again, or the cranberry sauce or baste the Turkey.
"Because you secretly love it." Brittany said, kissing the back of Santana's neck. Santana shrugged into her wife.
"I guess so," Santana smirked. "Now baste the turkey, woman!" Santana said. Brittany saluted her.
"Sir, yes, sir." She said, and all three women burst out in laughter. "See," Brittany said, opening the oven, "you love Thanksgiving."
"So, Santana," Daisy said, awkwardly sat next to her roommates' sister-in-law as they passed the dishes around. "Are you an only child?"
"I wish." Santana said. She saw Daisy's confused look. "We kind of all do our own thing for Thanksgiving because Christmas is such a fucking nightmare." Santana explained.
"So I've heard," Daisy replied.
"My eldest brother, Christian, and his four children spend Thanksgiving with his wife's family in New York. They're both professors at Columbia." Daisy nodded.
"Professors in what?"
"My brother has his doctorate in Ethnomusicology, and my sister-in-law has hers in Public Policy and Gender Studies."
"Very cool." Daisy replied. Santana nodded.
"My other older brother, Carlos, lives in Lima and works as a mechanic in Kurt's father's garage," Santana explained, gesturing to Kurt, "with Kurt's step-brother, Finn. And my younger brother, Daniel, teaches History at the high school we all attended. My mother spends Thanksgiving in Lima with Carlos and his wife and two kids, and Daniel."
"And your father?" Daisy asked.
"My father passed away a few years ago," Santana said softly.
"I'm really sorry," Daisy said, looking down at her plate.
"Thank you," Santana said. "It's okay. I have plenty to be thankful for," she said, placing a kiss on top of Nico's head. They were interrupted from their conversation by Brittany clinking her fork a little to hard on her glass. Slowly the table quieted down. Brittany grasped Santana's hand in her own.
"Santana and I want to thank everyone for coming tonight to our 12th annual Thanksgiving celebration. For those of you who have been with us since the beginning, you all know this is quite the step up from the first, held on the floor of my studio apartment in Hollywood." Santana and Quinn smiled at the memory. "And as our home has grown, so have our families and friends who have been able to celebrate this holiday with us."
"As has the size of our turkey," Santana said, to chuckles as everyone eyed the 30 pound turkey that was the centerpiece of the evening.
"So, for those of you who don't know, it's tradition around here to go around the table saying what we're thankful for as we begin our meal, because we all know Santana won't wait to start eating anyway."
"Thanks, Britt."
"Of course, honey. Why don't you begin this year?" Santana rolled her eyes. She hated this tradition. It always made her feel so awkward.
"I'm thankful for still having my job, and for the opportunity to begin working as my own boss so I can spend more time at home with my family." Brittany smiled sweetly at her and Santana smiled back before realizing that everyone was staring at her, "And for becoming the master of the turkey after twelve years. This shit is delicious." She said, taking a bite.
"I'm thankful for being welcomed into your home and family this thanksgiving." Daisy said.
"I'm thankful to almost be done with college!" Gracie said soon after.
"I'm thankful for our glee club family," Kurt said.
"I'm thankful for all the people who have welcomed me into their lives in LA. What could have been a very difficult, lonely year for me has turned out to be one full of love and companionship among old friends. You have truly made me feel at home." Her eyes caught Quinn's for half a second before she turned to smile at Brittany and Santana. Justin looked over at his wife, but she was busy trying to cut her plate with her eyes alone.
"I'm thankful,,' Mercedes said slowly, "to be surrounded by this wonderful family we've created, and that James and I are going to be able to add to it…" There was a stunned silence and then a squeal from Rachel and Kurt.
"You're pregnant?" Brittany asked wide-eyed. Mercedes just nodded and grinned.
"I called it!" Santana said pointing at Quinn. "I so called it, Fabray. I can't wait for there to be a mini-wheezy. We are going to have so much fun." No one missed the devilish smirk in Santana's eye.
"Oh no, Santana, you are not coming anywhere near my child. I've seen what you've done to Quinn and Justin's children."
"What? Quinn's kids think I'm awesome. Right guys?" Santana asked Quinn's daughters.
"Yeah. Aunt S is pretty cool." Hannah said. Santana gestured over to her.
"Oh my god, you're child is going to be so fabulous, Cedes." Kurt said. "I'm already picturing the baby fashion line I'm going to start in his or her honor."
They continued around the table. Rita was thankful for her family and her two children. Her teenage son was thankful she didn't say anything embarrassing and her teenage daughter was thankful they didn't have to do all winter holidays in Ohio. Hannah and Lily were thankful for their parents and their teachers and their friends. Lily was thankful for her guitar and her skateboard. Hannah was thankful for her perfect pitch. Harper was thankful for mashed potatoes and mashed potatoes alone. Justin gripped Quinn's hand before he spoke.
"I'm thankful for the Eagles having such a phenomenal season," Justin started, laughing. "For my three beautiful daughters who are always waiting with open arms to welcome their daddy back home. And for my beautiful wife, who consistently reminds me what is really important in this world." Quinn took a sip from her glass of wine.
"I'm thankful for my three beautiful children. You never cease to amaze me. I'm thankful for my wonderful group of friends, who are a constant source of support, even when I don't think I need it, even when I try to reject it, you are always there to make sure I have what I need and that I'm moving in the right direction. This year I'd like to give thanks to Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel. You are some of my oldest friends, and you are certainly some of the most honest, caring, faithful people I have ever met. I can never express my gratitude enough for how important you are in my life." Quinn finished, taking a sip from her water, avoiding the hurt look on her husband's face. Kurt squeezed Rachel's hand under the table.
"Britt, it's back to you," Santana whispered over to her wife, breaking the awkward silence.
"Oh! As you all know, I always have a lot to be thankful for, but I'm going to keep it short this year," Brittany said, glancing at Santana. "I'm thankful for my two healthy, happy, children. I'm thankful to be spending yet another Thanksgiving with my beautiful wife, my soul mate, and my best friend, who also happens to make a pretty delicious turkey. I feel so blessed to be living the life I only could have dreamed of when I met all of you, and I'm so thankful we are still sharing our lives together. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!" Brittany said, raising her glass.
"Hey," Quinn said, approaching Rachel on Brittany and Santana's back patio after dinner was finished and everyone mingled around, waiting for room to appear in their stomachs for dessert. "What are you doing out here?"
"I'm getting some fresh air," Rachel said, simply. Quinn nodded. There was a definite flush in Rachel's cheeks that she could only assume was from all the wine Rachel had been consuming. "What about you?" Rachel asked.
"Same." Quinn said, now standing shoulder to shoulder with her, but careful not to let their shoulders touch. They stood next to one another in silence. "It's chilly," Quinn commented.
"Yes," Rachel replied. "Is there a reason you came out here?" Rachel asked.
"I told you," Quinn said, giggling slightly, "I needed the air." She nudged Rachel with her shoulder. "You're drunk…" Quinn said, playfully, along a small smile to form on the corners of her lips.
"Don't, Quinn. Just don't. Don't come out here and pretend everything is okay."
"I'm sorry," Quinn said softly. "I'm not…I just…I miss you, Rachel."
"You don't have the right to tell me things like that anymore, Quinn," Rachel said and stormed inside. Quinn took a deep breath of the night air and went in to find her husband.
"Oh god," Gracie said, eyeing Rachel as everyone lounged in Brittany and Santana's living room in a food-induced coma. "Rachel's drunk and bringing out the karaoke machine."
"That's an odd Thanksgiving day tradition…"Daisy commented. "Although there has been a lot of singing going on."
"They all met in Glee Club in high school. Get them together and they sing."
"There seems to be a bizarre amount of talent here for a class from a small town in Ohio. Like, what are the odds everyone would have been so successful?"
"I often wonder that myself…" Gracie mused. She was cut off by the sound of a Carole King introduction and a very drunk Rachel coughing into the microphone.
Santana and Quinn were talking about the plans for the house and the annoyance of having to work with and pay for an engineer, an architect, and a contractor when the crackle of the karaoke machine came on.
"Oh shit," was all Santana could say when she heard the opening lines.
You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror
As you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner,
They'd be your partner, and
Kurt glance nervously over at Santana, who was too busy looking nervously at Quinn.
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
Lily, Harper, and Hanna danced around to the music. Mercedes and James just looked confused. Quinn, however, glared directly at Rachel, not breaking eye contact. Justin glared over at Quinn. Brittany sat on a chair in the corner with both the babies on her lap and wished that everyone could figure out how to stop making eye contact with each other.
You had me several years ago
When I was still quite naive
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, and
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
"I think that's about enough, Rach, don't you?" Kurt said, dragging her away from the karaoke machine. "Let's let someone else have turn, okay?"
A few minutes later, Santana cornered Quinn in the kitchen.
"That was really fucking obvious, Q," Santana said.
"It's not my fault Rachel chose to sing that song."
"It is your fault that you stared at her the entire time," Santana said. Quinn didn't reply, just stared at her cup of coffee. "How many glasses of wine have you had tonight?"
"I had two, S. And plenty of water and coffee. God. When did you get to be so judgmental?"
"Not judgmental, Q. Again, I'm just concerned."
"Q, I think it's time we get the monsters to bed," Justin said, entering the room. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"
"Of course not." Both women said simultaneously.
"It was good to see you, Justin," Santana said, giving him a hug.
"You too, Santana. Tell Brittany thank you for me."
"Of course."
"And Happy Thanksgiving." He said, leaving the kitchen with Quinn right behind him.
Slowly but surely the rest of the guests began to leave. Kurt dragged a drunk Rachel out, and Mercedes left after she started to feel the impact of morning sickness and overeating. Rita's teenagers wanted to go out with their friends. Brittany and Santana stood in the doorway saying goodbye to a drunk Gracie and her roommate.
"Get her home safely, okay?" Brittany said to Daisy.
"Of course."
"It was really nice to meet you."
"You to Brittany, Santana," she said shaking their hands.
"Bye, sisters!" Gracie said, grinning. "Bye, munchkins," she said in her baby voice, placing a messy kiss on both Nico and Olivia's heads. "They take so much after you, Santana. I wouldn't be surprised if they were your kids," Gracie slurred. "And from the sounds I heard coming from Britt's room growing up, I wouldn't be surprised if you," she tapped Santana on the chest, "were the one lesbian able to impregnate a lady." Brittany turned bright red.
"Okay, that's enough, kid. Get her some water, okay?" Santana said to Daisy who nodded and shyly waved as they walked out of the house. As they walked down the path, Gracie grasped Daisy's pinkie tightly in her own.
"Did they just?" Brittany turned to Santana in shock.
"I think so."
"Roommates?"
"Who knows. Kids these days. Although, you'd think she'd say something to you if she were…you know."
"This was a good Thanksgiving, San," Brittany said, changing the subject.
"Best yet, I'd say."
"We have so much cleaning to do."
"What do you say we get these ones into bed and I show you how thankful I am for you, and leave the cleaning for the morning?" Santana whispered to Brittany.
"I love the way you think." Brittany smiled at Santana.
Quinn hummed to herself as she got changed while Justin showered. Justin's phone buzzed next to her. She glanced at the caller ID. Santana Lopez.
"Hello? Hello?" Quinn said, picking up the phone. All that could be heard on the other end was muffled talking. "Hello?" Still nothing. Then an unmistakable groan and Brittany's name. "Ugh," Quinn said to herself, pressing end. "Leave it to them to accidentally butt-dial me during sex." The screen reverted to the last screen Justin had been on.
Regina:
Miss you ;)
Quinn glanced over at the bathroom. The shower was still going. She clicked the text message button to see what else Justin had been receiving. Regina, Shari, Melissa, all ending in little winks, miss yous, and hi sexy's. She heard the shower turn off and threw his phone back where she found it. Before he could leave the bathroom, she shut off the light and crawled into bed pretending to be asleep. As soon as she heard his steady snore, she rolled on to her back and looked at the ceiling. She didn't care. She wondered if she felt numb because she just found out, or if because she knew this was going on all along and just needed an excuse to leave her husband. Some sort of catalyst. She didn't know. It didn't matter. Now she had it.
"This is a fucking nightmare!" Santana yelled over the sound of the construction occurring above them.
"It will be worth it in the end!" Brittany yelled back to Santana.
"Stop making breakfast, Brittany!" Santana yelled.
"What?"
"Stop making breakfast!" Santana bobbed Nico and Olivia up and down on both of her hips in attempt to get them to stop crying.
"What?"
"Stop making breakfast!" Santana yelled as the construction stopped mid-sentence. "Stop making breakfast," Santana said, softly now.
"Why are you yelling?" Santana looked at her wife in dismay.
"Because…the construction…it was….nevermind, Britt. We have to get out of here. Let's go to the Alcove."
"Honey, we can't go out to eat. We have to save money right now."
"We also have to remain sane, and there's no way I can do that with whatever the hell is going on upstairs." Brittany nodded in agreement. It took them a few moments to get everything together, but eventually they were all piled in Santana's car and driving to breakfast.
"What time does you flight leave?" Quinn asked Justin as she put her makeup on in their bathroom.
"Six." Justin said.
"Are you going to call for a car?" Quinn asked.
"Yes," Justin said. "Are you going to talk to me about what is bothering you?"
"Nothing is bothering me, Justin."
"That's bullshit, Quinn," he said, slamming his book down on the table. "You've barely said two words to me the entire time I was here. You wanted to reject the Thanksgiving dinner invitation at Santana and Brittany's, even though that's what we've been doing for Thanksgiving for years, and you haven't touched me all weekend."
"I don't see what the problem is."
"Well, for one, I'd think you'd want to be affectionate with your husband since you see him so rarely."
"It's funny how used to celibacy one gets over time, Justin. Not that you would know."
"What's that supposed to mean, Quinn?"
"You know exactly what it means," Quinn said, storming out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where Justin sat on a chair.
"No, I don't think I do."
"It means, Justin, that if you had ever gone weeks, months even, without sex, then you'd understand that it's just not a priority for me right now."
"What makes you think I haven't?"
"I saw your phone, Justin."
"You went through my phone."
"No, I answered it when Santana was calling last night and when I hung up it reverted to your last text message. I know you're cheating on me."
"And you're going to sit here all high and mighty as though you're some fucking saint, Quinn? What's going on with you and Rachel?" The silence pooled between them.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Rachel is a friend. Rachel has been here to help take care of our children when you weren't, and to keep me company so I don't have to spend another night alone."
"Do you think I'm stupid? I see the way you look at her. I know she showed up here in the middle of the night the last time I came to visit. You were totally fine about going to Brittany and Santana's for dinner until you found out that Rachel was going."
"Stop!" Quinn screamed. "Stop trying to make this about me, when we're talking about you and your obvious infidelities. I'm straight, Justin, Rachel is just a friend." Quinn hoped Justin couldn't hear that slight waver in her voice when she said she was straight.
"You were straight. My mother warned me about you hanging out with those fucking lesbians all the time."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me, Justin. Are you listening to yourself right now? For one, Brittany and Santana are your friends, and you're sitting here spouting off some homophobic bullshit from your sixty-year-old mother? How would you feel if Santana heard you right now? Two, Justin, if I were not straight, you know as well as I do it would have nothing to do with the friends I've had since I was in middle school. Three, you're finding anyway to avoid talking about the fact that you're cheating on me."
"You're right, I should have known you were a dyke back when I realized that your two oldest friends were lesbians." They both stood in silence at his words. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You know I didn't mean that, you know I would never use that word."
"You just did use that word, Justin."
"It just came out in the heat of the moment."
"I don't care what it came out of. You know how I feel about that. I thought you felt the same way."
"I do."
"I don't know what to think anymore." They sat in silence. "I've given you so many chances, Justin, so many chances to make this better. We've been together for 12 years, Justin. I've barely seen you for eight of those years. Your children don't know you. You don't know me anymore. I live life like a single mother, and I guess I was able to handle it somewhat as long as I pretended not to know what you were doing on the side. But now I know. And now I can't pretend that this relationship has been dead for years."
"You don't know what you're saying, Quinn."
"NO!" Quinn yelled. "I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm not some impressionable young woman anymore who will take whatever I can get from my football player husband. I've given you too many chances to make this right, and I can't keep making myself miserable anymore."
"Quinn, I love you, and I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but I don't want this relationship to end. I'm not ready for it to end."
"I'm not in love with you anymore." Quinn said, choking back tears. They both sat in their respective places in silence.
"Oh my god, I missed this place," Santana said, shoveling a mouthful of her smoked salmon scramble into her mouth. As she chewed she spooned a mouthful of yogurt into Olivia's mouth. Brittany seemed to be enjoying her salad as much as Santana was enjoying her omelet, and she slipped some bacon to Lola, who was tied to her chair. It was unseasonably warm for November. They still the heating lamps out, but the sun was bright and the sky had a lovely, blue fall glow to it.
"It's been forever since we've been here, right?" Brittany said, looking at Santana.
"Since before these two," Santana confirmed. "It's how we should measure time now. Before Twins and After Twins. BT and AT." Brittany grinned.
"Oh no," Brittany said, trying to hide her head in her hair.
"What's wrong, Britt?" Santana asked, turning behind her to see an actor she'd met a few times during contract negotiations for his TV show. He caught Santana's gaze and came over, bringing the woman on his arm with him.
"Hello," Santana said with a smile, putting on her professional face, which happened to be very similar to her Cheerios face. She rifled through the rolodex of her brain to try and remember this guys name. "It's nice to see you again."
"You too, Santana. Hello, Brittany." Brittany looked up and nodded a shy hello.
"How do you know Brittany?" Santana said, her eyes narrowing in his direction.
"She choreographed the dances for the musical episode we did."
"You did a musical episode? I thought the show was something about crime? And doctors?"
"It is, but you know, everyone loves a good musical episode." Santana looked from her wife back to the actor, confused. "You two have a beautiful family," he said, kneeling down to pet Lola who cowered near Santana.
"Thank you. This is Nico," Santana said, gesturing to her son. "This is Olivia, and this is Lola."
"Well it's lovely to meet all of you. You really have a beautiful family," he said to Santana. "It was nice seeing you again, Brittany." The two walked off toward their table.
"What the fuck was that, Brittany?"
"I don't want to tell you, Santana, because it will only make you irrationally mad."
"I am perfectly capable to being rational."
"Not always."
"I'm thinking the worst here, Britt, so you really should just tell me."
"He hit on me. After a shoot. He asked me out and I told him I was married and showed him a picture of you and the twins. He recognized you from something, and panicked and begged me not to tell you. It was harmless, and I didn't want to upset you."
"I always knew that guy was a douchebag. Excuse me, Brittany, I'm just going to go have a word with him…" Santana stood throwing her napkin on the table.
"Santana. Sit down," Brittany said.
"But, Brittany, I…"
"Honey, I'm sure you are able to come up with some vicious insult to tear that man down right now, but it was an honest mistake and I would really like to just enjoy my breakfast."
"But—"
"Santana, please."
"If I'm still involved with contract negotiations for that ridiculous show he's on, I'm gonna…what?" Santana said, raising her eyebrows at Brittany's smile.
"What are you going to do, honey?" Brittany said in her baby voice. Santana couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm going to use some well-thought out, caustic, legal language to make sure he doesn't get the salary he deserves."
"That sounds like the adult Santana I know and love."
"Or I might show him the razors in my hair. Who knows?" Santana asked, taking a big bite of her eggs. "This really just is delicious, isn't it?" She said, smiling over at Brittany.
Justin and Quinn still sat in their bedroom silently. Justin had held his head in his hands for the better part of an hour now and Quinn just stared out the window.
"This isn't really about my text messages or Rachel, is it, Quinn?" Justin said, finally breaking the silence.
"No, it isn't."
"What is it about, then?"
"It's about promises that we made to one another and never kept. Promises to be faithful, to support one another in our dreams and our missteps, to build a life together. Instead we have a built a life apart."
"It can change, Quinn. I can change," Justin said through tears.
"I want to believe that, I do, Justin. It's just, I've given you so many chances, so many ultimatums, and nothing ever changes."
"But, don't you remember when we were happy? It could go back to that."
"No, Justin, I don't." They sat in silence until it was time for him to leave. He picked up his bag and headed for the door of the room.
"Can you answer one last question for me?" Quinn nodded. "You and Rachel?"
"I…I have feelings for her Justin. It's not why we're not working though." Justin nodded and left the room. She heard him say goodbye to their daughters and the front door slam before she picked up the phone.
"Hey, Q. How's it going?" Santana asked, cheerily.
"It's been better, S. I need a lawyer."