MOVING ON

(Rachel)

I don't like some clichés. As a connoisseur of plays and musicals, I watch carefully not only the actors' performance, but also the aesthetic details. And there are certain unnecessary things. Example: I don't understand the reason for all funeral be staged with half light and smoke from dry ice, or it's raining, as in "Watchmen". It's not poetic or sad. It's just cliché. The sadness is already part of the plot. Still, they insist do the same in the theater, television and movies. It's never sunny at a funeral even when it occurs in the summer. And if it's summer, then the funeral is indoor some place. Unless it's an action movie and the detective identifies the bad guy and need to chase him or there is an explosion in the cemetery. Cliché.

Ironically, my father's funeral had a cliché scenario. It happened in the late afternoon while it was snowing.

The men in my family led the simple coffin, without ornaments, as is the Jewish tradition. Dad was buried in a white outfit and his prayer shawl. We don't use flowers or sing at funerals. I was relieved to Noah have explained such detail to the Glee Club, but I'm almost certain they will do a special number as soon as Santana and I go back to school. George, the singer of our synagogue, recited the verse "the Lord gives and the Lord takes away - blessed the Lord's name", while he was throwing three shovels of dirt on the coffin.

Rabbi Amnon made a beautiful sermon. He and Dad were good friends. The sweet words made me cry for the first time at the funeral. I held papa's hand. He wanted to stay strong for me and Santana, but it wasn't necessary. I didn't care if the three of us were broken and needy. We would be on our right. Santana wore a kippah and held dad's in her hands. Shelby was by her side. The Lopezes were nearly all present, as well as Glee Club over Kurt, Blaine, coach Sylvester and Ms. Pillsbury. The Pierces were also there. Prudence and Clare with their husbands also pay homage to my father. There were students, colleagues and friends. Dad was a dear teacher. His friendly way could be greater than the prejudice that our family was the victim numerous times.

Zaide began to recite the Kaddish and at that moment Santana cried. My grandfather was devastated by the death of his only child and I can't imagine what was going through his mind. He recited the prayer with fervor while struggled to maintain his firm stance. Bubbee had a nervous breakdown and couldn't come to the funeral. She was medicated in my house. I think Zaide and bubbee would mourn with us, consisting of three days of confinement at home. Actually it was a week, but only three days were essential. But what else, other than my home, I would be in such occasion? All I wanted was to shut myself in my room and sleep and only wake up when this whole nightmare ends.

People greeted us before leaving: Finn, Kurt, Quinn… everybody. We had no receptions as was tradition among American Christians and I honestly didn't know what the point is: burying several days after death and still make reception. No. I prefer the Jewish way and the Latin Americans. When we got home, I went to the the guest room to see bubbee. She looked o calm in her induced sleep that papa medicated. Zaide passed by me and noted before got into the room and closed the door. Santana did the same. Papa was desolate in the library. I saw myself alone in that house with Shelby. My mother then did the best thing anyone could have done for me at a time like that: cuddled me until I felt sleep.

…

(Santana)

My body was aching. That was the bad of being a cheerio: when I stop exercising, my muscles complain. I stopped completely in my mourning days because I didn't feel like leaving my room. I looked over and stroked Brittany's hair. She slept with me on my birthday's eve. She wanted to give me a good night and a few orgasms as gift, and I thanked the company and the cuddle on, but refused the sex. Not so soon. I was still too hurt to enjoy a good fuck.

"Good morning!" She said before kissing me.

"Good morning!" I smiled. It was been a while since the last time I smiled.

"Happy birthday, San." One more kiss.

"Thank you."

"What will you doing today?"

"I'll stay home. I think papi is hosting a dinner for me and Rachel. Just for the family and you, of course."

"You don't seem excited."

"Daddy won't be in any other birthday celebration or any other important family event, Britt. That hurts a lot."

"But Uncle B would be upset to see you like this. He always enjoyed your laugh, San. And so do I. Maybe you should laugh a little in your birthday to make him happy."

"I'll laugh again, Britt. I just need more time."

Brittany stared at me with those insane blue eyes. She kissed one more time before got out of bed and give me a nice view of her perfect body. She pulled out a packet in the backpack.

"For you." She sat on my bed with her legs crossed.

I took the little package and unwrapped it. It was a pair of earrings with a small round gold pearl in the middle. Simple and elegant. I took off the one I was using and put the new ones. I kissed her in thanks.

"Thank you, Britt. They are perfect as you are."

"Anytime."

I got up from the bed and we took a shower together. Naked Brittany was a spectacular sight. How many times we had sex showers? How many times she gave me orgasms? But at that moment, we only showered together, behaved. When we left the room, I crossed with bubbee, which gave me a tight birthday's hug. I was happy that she was better.

"Feliz cumpleaños!" Papi essayed a smile to hug me. "Dios te bendiga y te hace feliz."

"Gracias, Papi. Where is Rachel?"

"En La biblioteca. Siento que Ella es nostálgica. Su presencia le hará bien."

"Veré qué puedo hacer."

I found my sister seeing the photo albums. She was sitting down at the table with her head resting on her arm. First I kissed her head and then took a good look at the photos.

"Our nine year birthday party?" I sat next to her. "We made pizza and bowling! That day was cool. Look at Britt and her crazy haircut."

"Because of you. You cut her hair when we were pretending to be hairdressers.

"Oh yeah. And she loved. This haircut latest a week before her mother cut it. That was the only time she had a short hair... Hey, look the clown!"

"You threw a bowling ball at his foot." And Rachel burst out laughing and I followed her. It was good to laugh after a few days. Dad had to pay the poor clown or the inconvenience.

"But what could I do? He called me freak."

"Unacceptable." Rachel joked.

"Right?" I looked to my sister. Rachel was still with swollen face, which was understandable. "Any plans for today?"

"None."

"Not even with Finn?" I tried.

"I haven't talked to Finn since the funeral. I don't want to answer the phone."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Well. All our friends, except Britt, are giving space for us, anyway."

"Yeah."

"Furthermore, we are going to spend the holidays in Cleveland..."

"I know."

"Are you going to Cleveland?" Brittany surprised us. "Oh, and Happy Birthday, Rach!" She hugged my sister.

"Yes. Didn't tell you?" Brittany shook her head. "We think Zaide and bubbee would like that."

"Oh! Well, I'll spend the holidays in other city too."

"Where to?" I was curious.

"Los Angeles. The newspaper offered my father a job. A good one. He said yes then I think we're moving. I'm not so sure... my parents are still talking about it."

The news fell like a bomb. If Uncle P goes to Los Angeles, that meant there was a good chance of Brittany be saying goodbye to Ohio. I wasn't sure what to think. California was full of opportunities for her. But what about me?

…

(Rachel)

I didn't celebrate my birthday as I planned before. Santana and I were thinking on a big party, but there was no spirit to do so. Not when Dad had been buried for less than a week. I received calls from Kurt, Finn, Mercedes, Lady Pillsbury, Mr. Schuester and surprisingly Quinn, but I didn't answer any of them. Santana's phone ringed so far more than mine. Every year was the same thing.

My family gathered around the dinner table. We rarely use it except on special days. Not many people attended, only Zaide and bubbee, Brittany, Shelby and Beth. We made a dinner because Daddy would want us to celebrate somehow. He wasn't the kind of man who liked people mourned for him. Instead, he always had a horror of that kind of thing. Zaide sat on a bedside table and my father in another. Papi was so depressed that we barely talked throughout the day. Bubbee prepared my favorites and my sister's: babaganouch with olive oil, quinoa and soy fritters, lamb, green salad with mushrooms and strawberries, and banana cream pie for dessert. The dishes were mismatched, but nobody cared.

We dispensed the gifts. The only ones we received were that Dad had already bought. He gave me a golden mic. Santana won a "big chemistry lab" as an inside joke of them, plus a jewel with a pendant in the shape David Star. She immediately replaced the necklace she wore with cheerio pendant.

"And now, my gifts for the girls." Zaide announced while we ate dessert.

"We had agreed not to give gifts this year." My father said angrily.

"I've just lost a son, and I think I deserve to have the satisfaction of giving something to my granddaughters."

Nobody argued after that. How could we? My father didn't like being defy by Zaide. I could even hear him muttering "stubborn Jew." An awkward atmosphere settled on the table and Zaide stood up and handed an envelope to me and Santana.

"Flights to New York?" I showed the contents of my ticket. "And tickets for Chicago?"

"They are scheduled for early January. I booked two rooms at Hilton. This travel will do well to our family."

"Thank you Zaide."

That was a perfect gift if the circumstances were different. I looked at Santana who was frowned at her the envelope.

"Zaide, I also have tickets to New York around the same time, but where's my ticket for the musical?"

"You will be my date for some businesses." Zaide ran the table and hit the shoulders of Santana. "You need to be well prepared, my granddaughter."

"Joel!" My father got up from the table even angrier. "Let's talk privately in the library."

I knew my destiny was in New York as a big Broadway star. All I did was prepare myself for this future. I knew how much I was fortunate to draw my own road and having a family that gave me everything that I reach my dream. I was much more fortunate than Santana. I understand the pressure she suffered to follow others dreams. Maybe that was the reason Santana loves gardening so much: Plants don't talk and just want water.

…

(Rachel)

Santana and I lost one week at school after the holidays break. Instead of going to the parties at Abuela's or at some of our friends, we opted for seclusion in Cleveland along bubbee and Zaide. That New Year day was the first in a sequence that we didn't spend at a party. Bubbee made supper, Santana, my father and Zaide sought to make peace in a pool game. At midnight, in the absence of someone to kiss, Santana gave me a peck. On the next day, we traveled to New York. Chicago, the musical, was splendid and Santana was so envy. Instead of having fun on Broadway, she went to a business dinner with Zaide and his friend, Caleb Weiz, then, she visit Stuyvesant High School. Zaide was playing dirty.

Back to school, just before the second period, I had a surprise when I opened my locker: there was a flower and a note: Finn asked to meet him in the choir room. For some odd reason, my heart didn't speed up. Although I wanted to talk to him to solve our problems, none of it seemed to me urgent anymore.

"Hi Rach!" He came to hug me briefly. "Happy birthday, merry christmas and happy new year. You didn't answer my calls…"

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't in the mood, but thank you."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I wish people would stop asking that." Even Sam asked me if I was ok. It was so annoying.

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault." I sat in the chairs in silence.

"I've been thinking about everything that happened, and the more I tried to focus on other things, the more you return to my thoughts. I miss you, Rachel. I know I'm not perfect, but you complete me, you support me and make me feel truly special. I really love you and I would like to go over all the problems we had on our relationship... Santana, Puck, everything. We should go over all these obstacles and give us one more chance."

Interestingly, I've figured Finn making a similar speech countless times since he broke up with me. But then I heard it for real and didn't sound right. The way the words were placed, seemed Noah and my sister were villains. So far from it. Noah was decent and Santana... all the anger I felt for she having sex with Finn had passed. It was dumb and childish to bring it up again. Noah and Santana were never the problems. And he ever knew about my summer affair. My relationship with Finn had many caveats, and stupid attitudes, empty proud. Despite all this, Finn was a good friend. Perhaps the first real one I've had in all these years. But he was never a good boyfriend.

"What about you just be my friend without any other interest behind?" I asked still thinking aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"Friendship. As Kurt is my friend. A friend without romantic interests."

"Kurt is gay. Therefore, he can be friends with a girl without being interested in her."

"So the answer is no!"

"I don't understand..."

I stared at Finn. I held one of his shoulders to make it lean. Then I kissed him slowly, gradually deepening the caress. As much as the feeling was good, the butterflies in my stomach were quieter. I needed to think better about it. What I wanted the most: the boyfriend or the friend?

"That means we are back?" Finn said with a silly grin on his face.

"I don't know." I walked away. "Santana was right about some things and I need to think better of them."

"Santana?" He frowned. "Why do you even listen to her?"

"She is my sister, Finn. Did you know that?"

"She could be your sister, Rachel, but doesn't mean that she cares about your feelings. All she does is criticize us and put us down."

"My sister is a bitch must of time, I agree, but she is honest with people. Anyway, Santana say what you need to hear, not what you want. And what I know is that much of glee clubbers care more about what I can offer for the team in competition. I know it hurts, but it's true. Maybe, right now, I want to have friends who like me as I am."

"She's wrong."

"Do you think? You, for example: Why do want be with me if I am not as pretty as Quinn or as sexy as Santana?"

"Because I love you. You make me feel complete..."

"I do love you too Finn. You are the man of my dreams. Maybe we are endgame. But right now you still want to be with me because of how I make you feel good, valued. What about the other side or stuffs?"

"Rach..."

"I care about you, about us. But we should take this slowly. Right now, please, be my friend. Then we'll see."

I turned my back and went to the Math class, the same when Santana and I were notified of the accident Daddy. A conversation with Finn delayed me, but the teacher overlooked. I had the impression that she would soften at me and my sister at least for first week. I apologized and sat in the chair next to Quinn, who kindly showed me some notes. I've lost some things during my absence week, but I could get everything in a short time. I thanked the gesture. In the middle of an explanation, the class eyes turned to Santana. With the subtlety of a hippo, my sister corrected an error on the board and called our teacher an amateur dumb. My sister got one more detention. It's like everything was coming back to the normal.

"I swear the teacher wanted to suspend Santana after she was corrected that way. I don't know why the Berry-Lopez sisters are the craziest." Quinn said humorously off the class, which surprised me. We walked side by side in the hallway once we had English class together.

"At least I don't confront my teachers." I said when we got to the lockers.

"You? Rachel Berry-Lopez?" She smiled. "Half the school is there to disagree." I was amazed with Quinn. I didn't know this sarcastic and humorous side of her. It was pleasant and charming. Quinn raised an eyebrow, a move that was typical of her, when she realized my astonishment. "What?"

"You, Quinn Fabray, is talking to me as a friend and worse: you are smiling?"

"So what?"

"It's not something that happens every day."

"You're a dwarf who steals our grandma clothes to go to school and you are annoying most of the time. But I like you. What I said that day in your room was sincere. I do care about you… and Santana"

"Thank you?"

"Behave Lopez 2. I still can find many ways to make your life miserable. But for now, I'm not in the mood."

"Again, thank you?" I smiles when we walked to the class.

"You bet, Lopez 2." She hit lightly on my back. "We have one more class to take and it will be much easier if you remain silent. So, please, don't pass half the class time discussing with the teacher."

"What's wrong with further discussion?"

"We parked in 'Ragtime' for ages. My essay on the book has even created mold! And I want to discuss Tennessee Williams."

I nodded and smiled. Life keeps going. Sometimes it gives us grounders, pressing our shoulders, take our illusions to place before the eyes of a harsh reality. Losing my daddy was an indescribable pain. But I had to move on.