(Santana)

Sometimes I wondered if Rachel really went to classes at NYU. Apart from one book or another that I saw her reading, for my perspective she didn't study. I imagined that the performing arts had something theoretical about it, things like the history of theater, something about paradigms, semiotics, the study of myth. These things that populate humanities courses. Rachel took the minimum number of credits per semester, but I still found it strange. The only things I saw her doing were one essay on theater adaptations of Jane Austen's work. She asked me to format it and bring it up to academic standard. The essay was very well written, I must admit. My sister has always been very careful with her schoolwork, although I think she could still summarize the texts. Many of the professors started handing out final semester papers in mid-November, as well as exams. It was a time when I stuck my nose in books and at the computer. I'd stay in the library until late afternoon, then go home, eat something and study until the early hours of the morning. Quinn accompanied me some evenings doing her own work on the world of cinema.

To help us cope with the early nights with our faces in the book, Mike prepared snacks and left them ready in the fridge. We didn't see much of each other in the second half of November. Mike's play wasn't going to have an extended run because it wasn't very popular, but he was looking for other opportunities, and his agent was even looking into the possibility of him taking part in a dance series that was going to be filmed in Atlanta. If it worked out, he'd be living there for three or four months. Well, I was only able to meet up with Mike on weekends in those days. In the morning, while Mike was at home, Quinn, Rachel and I were at college. I was still at college in the afternoon and the girls worked during that time. At night, always from Thursday onwards, Mike would go out to work on his play.

Rachel made teas. She would spend about 10 minutes in the market choosing the flavors she would take during the week. I liked a peach one that my sister rarely bought. And when she did, Rachel still grumbled. It wasn't that she didn't like peach tea. The problem was that she said I had too little imagination and refused to try other flavors. So that I had no choice but to try other flavors of tea, Rachel wouldn't buy peach tea. What a bitch!

I only took a break from the end-of-semester madness when I got most of my work done before Thanksgiving. Quinn, Rachel and I went to Lima. When we arrived in the city on Tuesday, we had to deal with some news and a full schedule. Papi started dating Tracy, a masseuse (!), and adopted a dog: a chocolate Labrador puppy named Sherry. The dog was simply beautiful. I'm talking about the animal dog, although the human dog wasn't one to throw away.

"Papi? Sherry? Really?" I asked and he looked innocent.

"No sé lo que quieres decir!" He hugged Tracy.

"No te parece que Sherry se asemeja a Shelby?"

"Creo que lo nombre es perfecto!" Rachel said as she played with the puppy.

Quinn understood what we were talking about. She couldn't speak Spanish very well, but as she got to know Rachel and me, she began to understand the language better. It seemed that she didn't approve of the dog's name or Tracy either, but it wasn't up to her. So she kept to herself.

"What are you talking about? The dog?" Tracy smiled as if confused. For some reason, I couldn't swallow that innocence.

"It's none of your business!" Rachel replied angrily. Neither she nor I approved of the presence of Tracy, a woman we'd never seen before, in our home and on the Thanksgiving holiday.

"Rachel!" Papi yelled at my sister. "Apologize!"

"Not a chance!" She walked away from the two of them and I followed her.

Tracy was a profiteer, I could smell these people from afar. Her life story was too cliché not to think otherwise. A 23-year-old hitchhiker from somewhere remote in Kentucky, newly arrived in the city without much money in her pocket and living on rent in a small room. She worked at Lima's only spa, where she met Papi. Small talk. Papi met her at a different kind of massage parlor. This must have happened a few times. As my old man was lonely, he thought he should play the good Samaritan. Of course Tracy would take advantage: a successful man, absurdly needy because of a broken heart - living alone in a big house with a puppy. Now you're saying it's love? It's deceit! Tracy seduced a fragile man with good sex. I was going to fight like hell to put an end to this story before it was too late.

...

November 26, 2013

(Quinn)

There was no denying that this was a different Thanksgiving. Juan's new girlfriend changed the dynamic of things. Rachel didn't even try to hide the fact that she disapproved of her father dating, and went to bed grumbling, calling her father crazy. She didn't even care about me. As much as I wanted to, I wouldn't guess. Not after the numerous cuts my girlfriend made regarding my opinions on her family: that I shouldn't meddle in their affairs. Well, so be it. I decided to only speak if I was asked, so I didn't give my opinion on Tracy, or Juan's outburst, or the fact that I thought their fight with Shelby was childish and stupid. Having a relationship with Rachel was like accepting all the Berry-Lopezes's and their respective problems in one package. It was a much bigger burden than the one my family exerted on our relationship.

I think Rachel barely listened when I told her that Frannie was in town, and that we were having lunch with her and my mother. I tried to argue that I also had a family with problems, and that it would be nice if she paid a little attention to me. Rachel didn't give a damn! It was bad to know that my girlfriend didn't care if my mother was a half-alcoholic seamstress, or if my father was about to get married again in a ceremony I wasn't even invited to. She was so absorbed in her family's problems that there was no room for mine.

If I were to give my opinion, I'd say that Tracy is clearly a swindler, that Juan is an emotionally fragile man when it comes to romantic relationships, Shelby is another insecure asshole (much like Santana), who needs extreme pushes to face certain situations - but she was a good mother to my Beth, I couldn't deny that. Santana was on the edge between the pressure of her studies and the free life of college, and Rachel was unbearable and tense because of the opening night of her new play. Every relationship has its ups and downs and our lives were very busy at the moment.

There were times when I wanted to scream in everyone's face and tell Rachel to stop being so self-centered about her problems. But then I'd see her sleeping next to me, so beautiful and at peace, that my heart would pound and I'd consider myself the luckiest woman ever. I pushed her curls away from her face and kissed her. Rachel started to wake up feeling a little groggy. She opened one eye, blinked, rolled it, and then woke up. Every time she did, it was all at once.

"Good morning." I kissed her once more.

"Hi!" She looked around for the clock on the bedside table. "Is it almost nine?" She frowned and sat up in bed. "It's late! Why didn't you wake me up before?"

"Because I woke up late too."

"Oh..." She pulled the blankets away from her legs and stood up. I still allowed myself a little laziness. "The house is so quiet..." She marveled.

"Maybe the world succumbed to the zombies and only we escaped."

"You've been watching too much Walking Dead with Mike." Rachel grabbed her robe and left the room.

I still stayed in bed. I was too lazy to face all the Berry-Lopezes and Tracy. Maybe I was also too lazy to meet up with Frannie and my mother. It was the second time my sister had been back to Lima since the day she moved to Texas to go to college. She majored in Public Relations and managed to get into law school, which was her goal from the start. My sister was a real bitch, but she was also smart and clever. My father must have been drooling with pride.

"We will have lunch with your mother today!" Rachel entered the room looking like she had forgotten her appointment.

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Santana's taking the car to meet Shelby for lunch." She said disgustedly.

"We could ask Santana to drop us off there before going down to Columbus, since it's the way to get on the highway. I'm sure my mom or Frannie will drop us home afterwards."

The drama was solved and, with it, I eliminated Rachel's transportation excuses for not going to lunch. I had a family too; I missed my mother too; and I had the right to be accompanied by my girlfriend too. Before she looked for another impasse, I got out of bed and changed my clothes.

It only took a simple question for Santana to nodded and drop us off in front of my mother's house before taking the road to Columbus. Something told me she had a plan to get rid of her new stepmother. Rachel was nervous and armed. I couldn't blame her because the last time she'd been there was at a disastrous dinner party. But a year had passed, and my mother had come to terms not only with me being gay, but also with me having a long-term relationship with Rachel. Things would be better this time. I held my girlfriend's hand and smiled confidently before knocking on the doorbell.

Frannie answered. She looked tired, a little thin, but still beautiful and elegant.

"If it isn't the black sheep of the family?"

"Isn't that the best sheep?" I pointed out before hugging her. "I missed you, Frannie."

"Me too, Quinnie."

My mother appeared in the doorway, and I broke free of my sister to hug her too. Rachel was right behind, suspicious and a little shy. Rachel was intimidated in unfamiliar surroundings where she didn't have a script to follow. There she was just my girlfriend entering the home of the "viper" Fabrays, as Santana used to say behind my back. But I tried to bring her closer to me, held her hand and we sat down on the sofa in the living room.

"It was a shock when Mom said you'd adopted the Berry-Lopez's lifestyle."

"And what style would that be?" Rachel immediately fought back. I squeezed her hand to keep her out of the game. Of course Frannie would tease her.

"The rainbow-colored style." Frannie didn't mince words and simply said. "The news was more shocking than your pregnancy with Finn Hudson."

"It wasn't Finn Hudson's. Mom, didn't you say? The father was Noah Puckerman." Frannie didn't know. It was clear in her expression. Communication between us really sucked. But she saw that we had something in common: we'd both been experimented on by Puck.

"At least that chapter is over." Frannie tried to finish the subject.

"The Puck chapter passed many years ago." I thought about mentioning Beth, but I wasn't sure if it was really worth putting my daughter in the middle of the discussion.

"How are things in New York?" Mom asked casually.

"Good. College seems like fun compared to the work we do." I smiled, because I've never been happier.

"Movies are entertainment, right?" Frannie teased.

"But the work involved in making a movie is far from it."

The subject died down. Soon the three of us joined in to set the table and serve lunch. Rachel took a step back from the interaction between the Fabrays and decided to concentrate on the meal, which I thought was safer, because every now and then, Frannie would drop a few torpedoes on her. They were comments that, unfortunately, I couldn't control. Rachel was also uncomfortable. The way she compulsively looked at her watch was an explicit sign of her desire to get the hell out of my house. Rachel was monosyllabic, and my mother barely looked at her. I couldn't say to what extent this was a success. Then Frannie, covertly holding a glass of wine, burst out:

"Tell me, Rachel... is it true that the theater is a den of misfits, sluts and libertines? It must be a blast to be part of this world, right?" She teased and I lowered my head. Rachel was about to burst.

"Although I'm aware of this popular belief, I must clarify that such stigmas are false. Theater is an art that requires extreme discipline and physical and mental preparation. You have to train your emotions so that you can give a correct and organic performance. There are exhausting movement exercises on stage and, in my case as a musical actress, I still have to go through a strict diet and deprive myself of certain things to preserve my vocal abilities." Frannie awakened Rachel's eloquence. Bad sign.

"Yes... I bet you use my sister a lot for your physical and vocal exercises." I looked mortified at Frannie. Insinuating my sex life was a low blow.

"I'm sure Quinn plays a big part in keeping me fit, although being with her can be detrimental to my vocals, as she makes me scream at the top of my lungs, leading to a certain hoarseness after our workouts. Still, I would never do without such moments with your sister." If that lunch were represented by a cartoon, it would show this moment as Rachel slapping Frannie across the face. My mother choked. "You'd be surprised what two fingers and a talented tongue can do to your body." I put my hand to my face and prepared myself to burst.

"Would you have the decency to leave that dirty talk off my table?" Mom freaked out, and with good reason. Sexual innuendos were never a topic at meals in the Fabrays' household.

"With all due respect, Mrs. Fabray, I didn't come here to fight. I can overlook a lot, but I don't have the blood of a cockroach."

"Really?" Frannie looked at Rachel more cynically. "Isn't one of your parents Hispanic?"

Rachel got up from the table to try to slap my sister, but I stopped her before she had a chance.

"Take that back, you red neck!"

"Frances, please!" I begged, still holding Rachel tightly in my arms.

"I'm sorry!" Frannie said slyly. "It seems your little girlfriend can't take a joke..."

"You don't joke about things like that, okay?" I warned.

"Usted debe arder en el infierno, perra."

"Rachel!" I snapped.

"What?" She looked at me indignantly. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true!"

"Enough!" Mom shouted. She was panting. We all were. She wiped her forehead and acted like someone who desperately needs to keep perspective. "And no more sex talk at my table."

We were silent. I released Rachel from my forced embrace. My girlfriend looked for two seconds at my mother and Frannie, picked up her bag and headed for the door. Lunch was already ruined. Worst of all, I couldn't blame Rachel's diva personality. Not when she was absolutely right to make the dramatic exit. I faced my mother and sister. I was nervous, upset, sad.

"I'm sorry." I said to both of them.

"Your girlfriend's a troublemaker." Frannie said slyly.

"You've got it wrong. I'm really sorry about both of you. May you enjoy your holiday."

It was my turn to grab my bag and leave the house. I spotted Rachel at the end of the street and had to run a little to catch up with her. I didn't say a word. I simply held her hand and we walked together to the bus stop.

...

(Santana)

There was something strange about Columbus. Not with the city itself, but specifically with the neighborhood Shelby chose to live in the suburbs of the Ohio capital. Everything there reeked of mediocrity, middle-class grimness, and that didn't suit Shelby. I understood that she should be enjoying this whole thing of being a university professor, even if she was invited for a semester, but I still didn't think it made much sense to give up a family life with Papi in Lima for a job where she worked twice a week and was paid half of Carmel's salary.

I can't judge her for not accepting the engagement because, thinking about it with a clear head, she had every right to have doubts. But the fact that she and Papi broke up after she turned him down was stupid of both of them. They should have stayed together, even though they weren't married, and living as two lovers raising a little girl. It's as simple as that. What's the point of getting married? Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. Request denied: relationship broken off. It seems that people's love lives never stop getting complicated as the years go by. It wasn't just Papi who was miserable enough to let himself get involved with a scammer: I realized that Shelby was in a bad way too. This became crystal clear as soon as she opened the front door to welcome me. It was the first time we'd seen each other since I left for Cleveland before heading to New York after we got back from Spain. Shelby had lost weight and was feeling down. My mother welcomed me with open arms and gave me with kisses and affection. But I could see that she was suffering too, and a lot.

"Why didn't Rachel come with you?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

"Lunch at Fabray's. Hopefully, she'll kill a Fabray this time. Better still: she breaks up with Quinn." I said as she pulled me into the house and closed the door.

"You shouldn't be rooting against your sister dating." She picked up some of Beth's toys from the sofa to give me some space and gestured for me to sit down.

"It's just that I can't help it. You're not the one who has to sleep with headphones in on days when they decide to have a little party in the next room." I sat down. "Where's Beth?"

"She's having her morning nap." Shelby looked relieved.

"Then I'll kiss those cute cheeks later."

"I thank you for not wanting to wake her up now."

Shelby put the toys in a box in Beth's room and came back to sit with me and talk. I wanted to bring up the subject of Tracy, but I didn't know the best way or the best time. So we started chatting about trivialities: college, my pittance in New York, her job, Beth's cuteness at school. Shelby showed me some of Beth's early "work", which was more like very colorful doodles, and other objects of Beth's that she treasured.

"I wish I had something of yours and Rachel's from when you were little. Your father showed me the folder with all your works when both of you were little, but he wouldn't let me take anything. I even saw your baby teeth."

The folders in question were literally a file that Dad organized with my and Rachel's activities: things like the first drawing we did at school, our assignments, report cards, certificates... he did it until he died. Papi was more detached when it came to organizing these kinds of files. Honestly, I'd only seen my folder once, when I turned 15. I remember there was even a bag with some of our baby teeth.

"Didn't the tooth fairy take them?" I joked with Shelby, making a surprised face, and my mother smiled. "Because I swear I got a dollar for every tooth!"

"I was very happy to see the photos and the objects, but I really regretted not being there with you two. I wish I could have been a part of your lives. To witness things, like I do with Beth."

"I'm sorry about that, Mom. I know I said a lot of nonsense to make you think it wasn't important, but the truth is that you've been sorely missed in Rachel's and my life. We used to be bullied at school when we were about 6, 7 years old. Some kids used to call us "brood daughters" because we had two fathers and no mother. Over time, we learned to stand up for ourselves. Rachel thought she should simply be superior, like Dad told us to be, but I stood up for myself with very creative insults and sometimes by force."

"Your father told me that you were called to school a few times because of fights."

"True! Until the day he and Dad grounded me for an eternity because I'd been suspended for fighting at school. I was 10 and they even banned Brittany from visiting me for a couple of weeks. It was awful. So I started to control myself more, which doesn't mean that I stopped fighting with my fists when I thought it was extremely necessary. Fabray says so!"

"Did you fight physically with Quinn? Why?"

"Quinn seemed harmless for a Fabray in middle school, but when we went to McKinley, and Frannie Fabray was still there... what I know is that this girl changed from water to wine. Quinn got mischievous. Not long after she started throwing slushies in Rachel's face, I overheard her and Frannie talking about kicking my sister's ass. Well, I beat her up first! I got into it with her for the second time a couple of years later, because she knocked me out of the cheerleading captain's post when she told Coach Sylvester that I'd had plastic surgery to enlarge my breasts. It's okay that I wore a padded bra myself and spread the rumor to attract attention. Still..."

"I didn't know that! The way you describe her, I'm surprised your sister and she are together."

"Don't you think I am?"

"On the other hand, it's hard to blame someone with whom I identify on many points."

"What do you mean?"

"Quinn has been through a lot: she got pregnant at 16, was kicked out of the house, then returned to a fragmented family nucleus. I know she's suffered a lot because I've been through similar things. I had a rude, ignorant father who thought my mother was a punching bag. I told you he touched me when he was drunk. I had an abortion when I was 17, and it was one of the saddest things in my life. I had to, but it wasn't easy. To top it off, I had two little girls who were taken from me as soon as they were born."

"You signed a contract from the start. Quinn gave up Beth of her own free will. It's not the same thing."

"Don't talk nonsense, Santana. It doesn't matter how: the pain is the same, and it's almost unbearable. The fact that I had signed a contract didn't make it any less painful that you were taken as soon as you left my body. Even more so knowing that you were my blood. Quinn had already decided to put Beth up for adoption, but don't think for a second that it was a simple decision. It couldn't have been easy for her to sign the papers in my favor when Beth was already in my arms."

Beth woke up. She was a little sly. I took it upon myself to keep her entertained while Shelby prepared our lunch. She didn't do anything elaborate: it was just a quick meal so we could sit at the table, warm up our stomachs and talk more. Although I enjoyed our closeness and spending time with my mother, I couldn't forget that I was also on a mission: I needed to bring her back into my father's life and, consequently, free my old man from Tracy's clutches.

"Are you spending Thanksgiving in Lima?" I asked.

"Probably not. My mom's alone."

"You can take your mother too."

"My mother is your grandmother, Santana. You can call her that, in case you didn't already know."

"I'm sorry... it's just that I've seen very little of her, and I haven't got used to it yet. It's very strange having three grandmothers when most people only have two... when they do... anyway... what I do know is that I'd like to spend the day with my family together. Me, you, Rachel, Beth and papi... and Linda too. She's a nice lady."

"I don't know, kid. I don't think Juan will like seeing me now that he's got a new toy." The tone was bitter. I didn't blame her. "It's going to be an uncomfortable and awkward situation."

"You know it's nothing serious. Papi only looked at someone like Tracy because he's miserable."

"Really?" Her tone was ironic. "For someone who has had a long gay marriage, your father loves a... voovoo like no one else."

"Mom!" I protested and Beth was startled.

"Mama?" She looked worriedly at Shelby and me. "Why is Santy angry?"

"I'm not angry, sweetie." I tried to relax my features. "I'm sorry."

"Honey." Shelby wiped Beth's mouth with her napkin. "Go play in your room and I'll help you brush your teeth in a bit."

We waited for Beth to get out of her seat and run to her little princess room Shelby had set up for her. I sipped my juice and tried to get back to the point.

"You should go back to my father. You're miserable and so is he. I may have a thousand and one reservations about you, and I have very good reasons. But the truth is that you make a great couple and you were happy together. You complete each other."

"My story with Juan is over." She said, but I could sense the uncertainty in her voice.

"First of all, you had two daughters. That already shows that your story can't end like this. Another thing, Mrs. Corcoran, you love each other."

"Santana!" She tried to protest.

"Mom, look me in the eye and tell me you don't love my father."

"You're calling me 'mom' just to get more appeal."

"Don't change the subject! Do you or don't you love my father?" I pressed.

"Yes, I love Juan. But our communication now is no more than short messages on cell phone once a week. It's frustrating!"

"So! You have to go back to him. You love each other, you've just admitted that to me. I don't think a 'no' to a marriage proposal can change that!"

"I thought the same thing until he decided we should go our separate ways."

"Because you decided to spend a year living in Columbus for a shit job!"

"Even so..."

"He was just hurt... we all were! Rachel, especially. But it has to end here, before he gets involved with that gunwoman for good."

"Juan is an adult. He knows what he's doing."

"That's not true. Papi is working like crazy and, at night, he uses the human doll because it's all the company he has! That's exactly it, Mom. Right now, he's in hospital and he'll be on call until Thanksgiving. Meanwhile, the human doll is enjoying her free mouth. Can't you see that? He's taken up with someone because he's terribly lonely. I know my father. He may be tough and strict, but he can't stand loneliness. He's a fucking family guy!"

"He has a dog called Sherry! Don't you think that's making it very clear what he thinks of me?"

"I thought you were more rational than he is. I can't believe a story like yours could end in such a silly way. You can't let that scammer stay with him, even if she is much hotter than you. And she's a stripper! I've slept with a stripper and they know how to do things!"

"You what?!" Shelby practically jumped out of her chair. "Santana Liza Berry-Lopez, did you happen to pay for..."

"It wasn't like that. I never had to pay anyone, okay? My college friend works as a stripper to get by in the city, and I... we... you get the picture. End of story. Now let's get back to your story: you, Shelby Corcoran, are going to lose the man you fell in love with because you two weren't mature enough to handle a 'no'."

"Things aren't simple, Santana."

"Mom!" I looked her in the eye. "You're going to Thanksgiving lunch in Lima not to win your man back, because you don't need to win him back, do you understand? You two need to reconnect with each other. That's all… because you love him and he loves you. Tracy is just a distraction. As soon as you set foot in the house, she'll be history. Trust me!"

"Santana..."

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Mom. You know I'm right. Now it's up to you to have the balls to face up to it. You're 40 years old! You're still young, you're beautiful, you're smart, you're intelligent, talented, you've conquered life with your own sweat, and you know very well what you want. I know you love my father and want a quiet life. A healthy and sincere life. You yourself told that to my sister. That's what you're looking for: stability, a family and a dog! So stop self-sabotaging! You had a job in Lima in which you were very successful, a nice house, a handsome and equally successful boyfriend, two grown-up daughters who give you a lot of headaches, and a little daughter to rise. And you traded that for a temporary job at OSU? Come on! You have an obligation to fix it ASAP."

Shelby looked at me with a surprised face. She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her hair, looked out of the window and got up to start clearing our lunch table. Silently, I began to help her clear up.

"Maybe you're right." She finally said after we'd finished cleaning the kitchen. "I'm going to have that lunch with you in Lima. Set aside three chairs for me, Beth and your grandmother."

"That's how you say it, Corcoran."

...

I played with Beth until late afternoon, when it was time to take the road back to Lima. It was an hour and 40 minutes drive, but I didn't want to hit the road at night. Especially as I hadn't driven for a long time in New York and my reflexes were getting a bit rusty. When I got back to my papi's house, Tracy was still around.

"What are you doing here?" I asked harshly.

"Your father said it would be fine if I spent the holiday with the family, that I could stay while he was at work to keep you and your sister's company."

"Why? Don't you have somewhere to live?"

"I'm not homeless, if you must know. I have my own apartment."

"Why aren't you in your apartment?" I insisted.

"Can't I stay?"

She looked like a dog kicked in the middle of a storm. I sighed and let it go.

"If my dad lets you stay, then that's that."

It began to bother me like never before. Rachel and Quinn had already retired to my sister's room. Lunch at the Fabrays' house seemed to have been livelier than I'd imagined. At the very least, Frannie dropped several pearls.

Tracy also retired early and I couldn't sleep on my own. I took my computer and surfed the internet, chatting on social networks with my friends. Mike said everything was calm in New York. The only unforeseen event was the fire alert that went off after the presentation because of a short in the alarm system. Andrew was also connected. He, Matt and Lucy stayed in town. They said the campus was less busy. The only reason it wasn't empty was because this was New York. Andrew was a fun guy. His obsession with Jean Grey from the X-Men entertained me, as well as his fertile imagination. I thought he was in the wrong business: he should be working with Marvel's creative team, not developing the next Facebook.

"No sleep?" Tracy came downstairs with her robe open, revealing her tiny baby doll.

"I'm used to sleeping late." She said dryly.

"Would you like some company? I'm not sleepy either."

"Whatever."

"Your father says you're studying at Columbia. It's a great university!"

"It's not that great!"

"Don't be modest, Santana. I know you're very intelligent. Your father never stops talking about you and Rachel." She forced a fake smile. "He says with the greatest pride that his daughters are studying at the best universities in the country."

"That's true."

"My dream was to go to college... well... I couldn't. I got into a community college and I did a semester of spa massage and chiromassage. I've been working with that ever since."

"Do you like what you do?" I thought I'd keep the conversation going to find out what she's lying about and what she's telling the truth about, based on what I'd seen on social media. She claims to be a masseuse on her Facebook profile, but her Instagram only has sexy photos. I did some more research and found out that she worked for a escort agency.

"Yes. It taught me to understand someone by the stress they put on their body."

"Really?"

"Your father is a very stressed man. But I can tell that you're his mirror." She pointed to my shoulder. "Can I touch you?"

"Okay..."

Tracy put her hands on the muscles of my shoulders and squeezed in just the right place. I saw stars.

"Ohhhh." I hadn't meant to whisper, but she was spot on. No wonder my father had fallen into her clutches: Tracy had magic hands. When she finished massaging me, I was in alpha mode! So good…

"See... super tense." I said as she squeezed my punished muscles. "Full of knots."

"That's called Columbia."

"I can do a full session with you, back, arms and legs if you like." She took her magic hands off me, and I barely protested. "You'll be brand new in an hour."

"I'm sure of it..." I said without feeling. If I could, I'd swallow those words.

"So..." Tracy smiled, thinking she had won my sympathy. "Were you talking to your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend... or a girlfriend."

"Oh, you... are fluid person." If that was a nice word for bisexual, she was right. "In fact, a pretty girl like you shouldn't limit your options."

"I'm not pretty."

"Who are you kidding?" Tracy smiled, and I decided to wind it up a bit more to see how far the conversation would go.

"College suffocates my social life. I don't have time for relationships, or for many of the things you do in college. It's been a long time since I've known what that's like!" I wasn't entirely lying. The last person who kissed me was... Brittany.

"You're a very pretty girl, Santana. You should find time to have someone in your life." She said closer. "Like your sister found Quinn." Rachel and Quinn... Tracy really had no idea what she was talking about.

"Of course... you're right. Thank you." I said, trying to get rid of her.

Tracy smiled and nodded. Before she left, Tracy went into the kitchen, drank a glass of water from an angle that was privileged for me and then went upstairs with a "sweet smile" on her face. Was it just me, or was that woman trying to seduce me? I had to get rid of that bitch as quickly as possible. If Shelby failed, papi would have a nasty time in the weekend, because I swear I would seduce that woman and find a way for papi to catch us in the act. I didn't like the idea of possibly having sex for that kind of purpose, but I would do whatever it took to get Tracy out of my house. I needed to think. Maybe Rachel could help, even though she had reacted indifferently to papi's new "girlfriend". I took my thick coat and went to the pool machines. I turned on the heater and the filter. Then I put the thermal plastic over the water. The water would be fine in the morning.

...

November 27, 2013

(Santana)

First thing in the morning, I jumped into the water despite the fact that dawn was already below 10ºC. But the pool was warm and great. I swam and rested my mind. Sherry (we had to change this dog's name) kept me company in the meantime, barking and wagging her little tail at the edge of the pool.

"Have you gone mad?" Rachel went to the poolside in her thick pajamas, coat and slippers. Sherry jumped on Rachel to be petted, but my sister ignored her.

"The water is delicious."

"It's like 4°C!"

"I left the heater on all night with the thermal plastic. It's 22°C in here. Look at the thermometer!" I threw the whale-shaped object at her. Rachel cringed as if it was disgusting and dropped it on the floor. Typical. Sherry didn't despise the toy and ran off with it in her mouth. Goodbye thermometer. "I'm glad you're here. I need to talk to you."

"About... Tracy has to go?" Rachel grabbed the lounger and pulled it to the edge of the pool.

"Ah, I'm glad we're on the same page! You acted so indifferent yesterday that I was worried."

"Are you kidding? The woman is a swindler! What was papi thinking?"

"That's called broken heart, Ray... and loneliness."

"Quinn thinks I'm exaggerating." She whispered. "But I saw her checking you out at least twice."

"But she wants a piece of that here." I pointed to my twins. "She insinuated herself to me last night."

"What? What happened... you didn't..."

"I didn't do anything... she gave me a wonderful shoulder massage. If I'd gone into papi's room at night, I bet we would have... you know."

"What a bitch!"

We heard movement from the kitchen. It was the devil himself walking towards us, followed by Quinn right behind. She was even more wrapped up than Rachel and her face. Then she sat down next to my sister.

"Buenos dias, señorita!" Rachel forced a smile and I could feel the actress emerging. "Usted debe estar muy disponible para salir de la cama de mi padre para venir aqui y unirse a La conversación de los demás. Creo que debe ser um proceso a tener relaciones sexuales com mi hermana par venir aqui y cara a cara com este clima helado." Rachel spoke quickly and fluently, despite her accent. So that only those who spoke the language well would understand. I dived under the water to laugh and do a few strokes.

"Do you always speak in Spanish?"

"Only when they're fighting." Quinn said, still sounding like she was bored to death. "Or when I'm around and they don't want me to understand what they're saying."

"No es verdad." Rachel really was a good actress. And one of the most diabolical. A perfect Berry-Lopez, I'd say. This time I had to do a few extra strokes to keep from bursting out laughing in front of Tracy.

"Wow, how brave of you to swim at that time of day".

"Y ni siquiera pasar La oportunidad de verla en bikini." Rachel was crazy, but from Tracy's forced smile, it looked like she wasn't understanding a comma. "Apuesto que es una bella paisaje".

"Your Spanish is great!" Either Tracy hadn't understood a comma, or she herself was a much better actress than Rachel.

"Una lástima que usted es un cabeza hueca y no puede entender." Rachel offended in Spanish with an angelic face. I was holding myself back from cheering her on. Seriously, I got emotional.

"I think you should discuss the finances at the pool house, don't you?" Quinn came up with something. "You two need to settle this matter once and for all."

"Finances?" Tracy was curious.

"Don't you know, Tracy?" Rachel continued. "My father is broken! Completely bankrupt and he's going to have to sell the house." It was a flat-out lie that Rachel told. My father was on a shoestring budget because of his numerous expenses with us, but he was far from broke. I knew that, because I started doing the bookkeeping for him. The money was fairer, and my father would have to cut back on a few luxuries. But it wasn't anything that would really interfere with his quality of life. He could still have a dog, for example, and keep his maids once a week. But international travels, frivolous expenses and new luxury cars were out of the question. In any case, I understood my sister's intentions in telling Tracy this lie.

"Well... I guess the meeting is serious." Tracy gave a yellow smile. "Make yourselves at home."

Rachel and I exchanged glances. It was a strange thing to say. We didn't live there anymore, but it would never stop being our home. I got out of the pool and ran to get my robe when Tracy was already on her way back home. I did a few jumping jacks to keep warm and walked to the pool house. We went inside, and Quinn closed the tempered glass door while Rachel turned on the heater. It was much nicer inside. Rachel sat down on the couch, and I remained standing, moving around. Quinn stood next to me with her arms crossed.

"My Spanish is garbage, but 'cabeza hueca'? Rachel, have you gone mad?" Quinn's eyes widened. "Who's to say she doesn't speak or understand a little Spanish?"

"If she does understand something, then she's a bigger fool and more dangerous than we thought!" Rachel defended herself. "And the compliment was well aimed."

"You two be very careful what you get up to with that Tracy." Quinn was serious. "Rachel spent the night concocting inelegant plans to get rid of the girl." That was my sister!

"Shelby is our best shot. She said she'd fight for our father again. But if things don't go well at lunch tomorrow, we're going to have to set up an unpleasant act. One in which my father will stop talking to me for a long time." I looked seriously at Rachel. "Do yourself a favor and at least be diplomatic with Shelby. Understood?" Rachel agreed. "Okay, tomorrow we'll do scenes from The Parent Trap. If it doesn't work, The Porn Trap plan is on."

...

November 28, 2013

(Santana)

I didn't see Papi come home from work the night before. But it wasn't bad to hear him humming while he made waffles for breakfast. The house was quiet, Rachel and Quinn were still in my sister's room, and there was no sign of Tracy. The only people standing for the moment were me, Papi and the dog.

"You're up!"

"Buenos dias, hija." Papi smiled and continued making Belgian-style waffles, which was the best. "Would you like yours with jam or cream cheese?"

"Jam!" Papi spread the jam on the waffle disk and handed it to me on a small plate.

"Coffee or juice?"

"Coffee."

"Here you go! And don't eat too much. Save room for lunch today. Your mother said she's going to bring the pre-roasted turkey, she's just going to leave it to brown here at home. That means we'll make your sister's mashed potatoes, salad and vegan things." We both laughed. My father was never the biggest fan of the vegan diet. Perhaps because of all the nagging from Dad and, in a second moment, from Rachel.

"So everything's fine about Shelby showing up? No heavy feelings?"

"We're adults, Santana. It's not because we've decided to go our separate ways that we're going to be enemies. She's your mother, Beth is like my daughter, and I don't want to be apart from her... we're on speaking terms."

"Sherry says so..."

"Sherry's a great dog name."

Tracy came into the kitchen and the subject died down. Perhaps it was my desire for their relationship not to work out, and I didn't want to delude myself, but they seemed colder towards each other. There was obviously no intimacy or complicity. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that this relationship was a business deal: Tracy was having sex with my father, and in return he was giving her some security and comfort. But during breakfast, Tracy stayed by my side, finding any excuse to lean against me.

When Shelby arrived dressed in simple, elegant clothes, I tried to observe Papi's reactions very carefully. God, I wasn't wrong. I'd never seen him with such a twinkle in his eye for anyone else, not even Dad. What made papi choose dad over Shelby back then? Knowing him well, the answer was very clear: papi opted for what was safe and right. I believe that things happen for a reason. If papi had chosen to stay with an immature, 20-year-old Shelby who was itching to do Broadway, their relationship would have been a complete disaster. It was obvious that he loved Dad too, it was obvious that he would never give up on a life plan because of a 30-second crush and a one-night stand. I also wonder how hard it must have been for Dad to forgive papi, after he found out that one of his daughters had been born the traditional way. Today I wonder if it was difficult for Dad to accept and love me. What I do know is that he did. This whole story makes Dad even greater, and makes me love him even more.

Beth did her part by filling the house with the good energy she carried within her. I laughed watching her torment Sherry. Quinn was at that point of tension between wanting to play and run after Beth, to hug and kiss her, while she tried to stay in her rightful place. I didn't want to be in Quinn's shoes at those times. As we'd agreed, Rachel took a break from the resentment she'd felt towards Shelby for months to make our plan work. Rachel was sweet with our mother, as if they had never been apart. My mother greeted Tracy as soon as she arrived with exemplary politeness, and then ignored her completely, with the same class. Shelby's mother wasn't much of a talker, but she knew how to make a delicious spice.

"Papi, Mom, I've been thinking, how about Tracy going with Quinn to tia Maria's farm to pick up the good vintage wines I ordered?" My sister said, handing her girlfriend the key to the car. "Believe me, Tracy, it's an incredible place to know."

"I'm supposed to pick up the wines?" Quinn was confused.

"YES!" Rachel and I answered at the same time and then grinned like innocent children.

I practically pushed Tracy into the car and, with a bit of luck, Quinn might push her into a ravine on the way. Then I went back to the kitchen and got Linda Corcoran out. Rachel and I took her to the library, where we showed her lots of childhood albums while Shelby and Papi made lunch together. We told stories to Linda with a wealth of detail, lots of detail, minute detail, that made the story of a birthday party take almost an hour to tell.

At lunchtime, we all sat down at the table, said a short prayer and Papi did the honors of cutting up the turkey. The first piece, one of the thighs, went to Shelby. From the smiles and the jokes made at the moment, I was sure that their return was only a matter of time. We started interacting like the family we were, except for Tracy, who was totally out of place, and my grandmother Linda. Points for us and for my mother, who knew how to neutralize the scammer by simply being polite and classy.

"We really need to rename that dog." Papi commented as we stood in the kitchen washing the dishes and chatting like a normal family while the television showed images of the football match.

"Instead of Sherry, why not Lessie?" Shelby suggested. "It's classic and doesn't change the sound of the word that much." She raised her wine glass as if she were punctuating a few things for Papi. It was a way for they to talk in codes. Further proof of what a well-matched couple they were.

"Lessie sounds great!" Papi smiled broadly.

Papi and Shelby spent the afternoon talking privately in the pool house. Tracy threatened to make a small protest, but Rachel and I talked her down. She may have been a profiteer, but she had a bit of sense and intelligence. Tracy knew she'd lost the war, and that the final word on the matter was just a matter of Shelby and Papi leaving the pool house.

In the meantime, I went upstairs to my old room. A few minutes later I heard a knock on my door, but the person didn't even announce themselves and walked straight in. It was Tracy.

"May I come in?" she said with calculated shyness.

"Make yourself home."

Tracy closed the door to my room and sat down in my chair.

"I lost, didn't I?" She said with strange humility and dignity.

"Yes. Those two love each other and there's nothing you can do about it. Not even if you fuck my father like there's no tomorrow every day."

"You're rude!"

"I'm a realist."

"Your father is a decent guy, Santana. Those are rare types these days."

"I'm sure you'll find a decent guy who really likes you."

Tracy walked around my room, as if she wanted to get to know the area. She looked out of my window, which overlooked the backyard, where it was possible to see the pool house, but not my parents. Then she circled again with predatory movements until she was standing in front of me very close. She tucked a curl of my hair behind my ear and stared at me.

"Are you up for that massage session?"

"That's not a good idea."

"Why?"

"Tracy... you lost. Have some class and go out with your head held high."

"I'm going out... It's not the first time I've been through this, Santana." Tracy sighed.

"It's just a rhetorical question. What do you want out of life?"

"I want a good life, I want love, a house in the country. Is that too much to ask?"

"That's not so difficult to achieve. Not if you understand that a good life and love don't necessarily come with money. There's nothing wrong with working to get your house in the country."

"You don't know anything about life, Santana. You don't know what I've been through." It was taking too long for her to come up with the poor thing's line.

"I have no idea what you went through. It must have been really tough. But that's none of my business. What is my business is this family: a place where you unfortunately don't fit in. My father may have worked as a temporary sugar daddy, but the truth is that the guy's no good at it."

"Maybe not."

Tracy said goodbye the same day, in a private conversation with my father at a time when Shelby had already gone home. Papi wasn't that sad. I think he was even relieved and happy about Tracy's "mature gesture" in understanding the situation. Tracy was a trait that passed through our lives. I didn't think she was a completely bad person; she was certainly an opportunist. But the most important thing was that papi and Shelby were going to get back together, and there was no way Tracy was going to stop that.

...

November 30, 2013

(Quinn)

Everything seemed to be back to normal at the Berry-Lopez's house. Shelby arrived with my Beth in the morning to spent the weekend. There was every sign that she was going to devote herself body and soul (especially body) to reconciling with Juan. All the better for them and the girls, who relaxed after Tracy left. I still had my own issues with my family. While the Berry-Lopezes enjoyed their time together, I went to my mother's for lunch, this time without Rachel. The atmosphere at my house was completely different without Rachel around. My mother still avoided talking about my relationship, and also about the meeting a few days ago. I was tired of it. Not talking about it wasn't going to make the white elephant disappear from the room.

My mother commented on Thanksgiving meal at my grandfather's house, and that almost everything seemed to be back to normal. Between the lines, I understood that the "almost" was me and my sexuality. Unfortunately for her, my business was women. Even if one day I broke up with Rachel, I'd be looking for a girlfriend and not just another guy. That was as true for me as air and water.

After the meal, Frannie and I went into my room and talked nonsense while we did our nails. Only then I learned more about her life in Austin. Frannie had a rich boyfriend, she confessed that she had experimented once with a girlfriend from college in the company of other guys (read: orgies), but that her thing was men. I never doubted that. My sister has always liked a penis and has never made a point of denying it. And we talked about New York.

"I can't believe you've lived in New York all this time and never been to Tiffany & Co?" Frannie laughed. "That would be the first place I'd visit!"

"Of course I've been there!" I defended myself. "I've just never been inside the store."

"Well, why not?"

"There's a big difference between being a tourist in New York and living there. Economic reality comes into play. I'm not one to go into a place knowing that I can't have anything that's available there."

"You're too pragmatic, little sister."

"Realistic. That's another story. I don't live in the middle of high society anymore, don't you know?"

"Unfortunately for you." Frannie started braiding my hair, as she sometimes did when we were younger. "You have everything you need to change your condition... just get a boyfriend... or a rich girlfriend, in your case."

"Rachel is rich. Her family is rich, at least. The difference is that we live off our sweat in New York, which, in my view, is more rewarding. I value the things I can buy much more today than the luxuries Dad gave me when I was 15."

"You could make better use of your pride." I raised my eyebrow and my hands as if to ask for caution. "Your pride in living off your own earnings could be used for pride in knowing how to make better use of what you have at hand. Just saying, okay?"

"Are you saying I should exploit my girlfriend?"

"At least you've traveled abroad with them."

"I'm paying for my ticket, okay? In small installments, but I am."

"See, that's what I mean. You're very proud in that sense... macho pride. I bet if you told Juan Lopez you wouldn't pay him anymore for this plane ticket, he wouldn't even care."

"I wouldn't exploit my girlfriend or her family, okay? End of story."

I looked out of the window and found the open, almost bucolic landscape. Lima was a city that could encourage loneliness. Of course, anywhere else could. But the excess of spaces gave me this strong impression. I often wondered if I would ever be able to live in a city like that again. I didn't have a ready answer. The fact was that I found it strange. The impression I had was that I had lived a lifetime in New York.

"Dad asks about you... sometimes." Frannie said unexpectedly as soon as she had finished braiding her hair, and my heart leapt. Despite everything, I loved my father. "I didn't want to talk about him because I know it hurts Mom."

"I'm a disappointment to him."

"True! That doesn't mean he doesn't care. He's just hard-headed. Incorrigibly proud. As Fabrays, that's our virtue and our curse."

"I confess I'd like to talk to him again."

"Give him time. There will come a time when you'll see each other again."

"Hopefully!" I looked at Frannie. I wasn't sure whether to ask the question and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear confirmation either. "He... you... you..."

"What?"

"Does he know I'm gay?"

"He does." Frannie replied dryly. "Although he don't really buy the idea. To be honest, even I don't really believe it. I still think you're just going through a phase. Maybe Dad will come looking for you when this experimentation of yours is over."

"It's not a phase. I really am gay. I spent an entire teenage years in conflict with my sexuality. When I managed to admit to myself, in front of the mirror, that I was gay, it was such a relief! I like vaginas and boobs, not penises."

"How did you know?"

"I had a platonic love for Rachel for years, I liked to look at your friends' boobs, sometimes I looked at the naked cheerios in the locker room... I admired Santana's body a few times... the fact that I hated being with the boyfriends I had... Until one day I met a woman who taught me a few things. It was my first time with a woman and it was almost like a cosmic revelation in which the world made sense."

"Was it Rachel?"

"No... another woman. A woman older than you, but not that older."

"Okay!" Frannie wrinkled her forehead.

"When you meet my father, tell him that I love him. That despite everything, I love him."

"I'll give him the message."

Later that day, Rachel, Santana and I went to a party with our old friends. With the exception of Brittany and Mike, everyone was in Lima for the holiday. Puck was dating an older woman. He was thinking of setting up a store specializing in swimming pools: from installation to selling toys. I was happy for him and even a little proud. Schuester was single again, Coach Sue was still having trouble finding cheerios with personality like Santana and me. Kurt wasn't doing well in the fashion college he was doing in California, and his relationship with Blaine had gone into crisis. He said he was thinking of spending the holidays with Mercedes in Chicago.

Finn took over the shop once Burt Hummel won a position on the city council, and was taking classes at the Community College. He was majoring in Business, "just like Santana and didn't even need Columbia," as he put it. Poor guy. While he's trying to manage the finances of a garage, Santana was learning to deal with global economic analysis. I wanted to explain this small difference, but Rachel wouldn't let me. Sam was studing to become a physical education teacher: it was just like him. Artie said he was going to be an advertising executive and only got on well with submissive women. I wasn't interested in his future. Tina gave up the Robert Smith look for good. Good for her. The most intriguing thing of all: none of it interested me anymore. I liked those people, but I was at a different point in my life. I held Rachel's hand and kissed it. I couldn't wait to get back to New York.