August 17th
(Quinn)
Rachel and I had been together for two years. In that time, we were very comfortable not only with sex but also with discussing sex, especially when we were practicing. I knew the things she liked and hated, and vice versa. For example, Rachel hated dirty talk. Calling her names that weren't affectionate during the act, no way. She didn't complain about a pat or two on her ass: it was something that had to be used very sparingly. If she thought a position was degrading, she didn't do it. Rachel was a penetration girl: she really enjoyed it, perhaps more than oral sex.
I was a bit different. I wasn't very interested in talking during the act, unless it was to talk about the things I wanted to do. I didn't mind a few dirty words either. I was always willing to try new positions and places. I liked a bit of adventure, like having a quickie in a public place. I found it exciting. I didn't like penetration that much. It was nice when Rachel did it, but my thing was always to play with my little Quinn. My little button needed special attention to reach orgasm. If that attention involved oral sex, even better.
Sometimes we used two small vibrators to play a bit more. I got one of them when I was pregnant with Beth, and the other I bought after I started dating Rachel. She was open to using these toys, as long as she didn't think it was degrading. Well, one day I finally had the courage to propose using a strap-on. Rachel was doubtful, and said she'd have to see if she'd feel comfortable seeing me wearing one.
This led me to a lingerie and sex shop in Brooklyn: the same one I went to from time to time to buy little things and underwear. I had only been down to the basement, where the sex shop was, on one occasion to buy a vibrator. This time, my search was less modest. I looked at the models that imitated penises, but they didn't seem right. I wanted to try something different, but I didn't want it to be a male imitation.
"What can I do for you?" Asked the salesperson who, seriously, was dressed like she'd just come out of church.
"I'm looking for a strap-on..."
"Do you have a preference?"
"I... look, I'm not sure."
"Is this the first time you've tried to use a piece of equipment like this?" I nodded and the saleswoman, being as professional as possible. "Are you going to use it or your girlfriend? Or both?"
"Mostly me, I think..."
"Well, then you need to consider what will be comfortable for you. Are you comfortable with these models?" She showed the ones that replicated a penis.
"Not very much... I don't think that putting on a strap-on that looks like a horrible penis will be of any interest to me and my girlfriend."
"Well, I've got some great models here that aren't exactly replicas of penises." She directed me to another shelf. "In these models, they only replicate the shape of the head. I'm going to show you this one from the showcase, it's a vibrator that can be used as a strap-on or as strapless. If you don't have the experience or the security yet, I recommend using the belt on the first time. There are different colors, there are ones with vibrators. These strapless ones have vaginal plugs that are easy to put on."
"With plugs?"
"Like this..." The salesperson picked up a model and showed it to me. "It has this part that you fit into your vagina and it has this anatomy that rubs your clitoris as you move. So it's good for you and good for her. You can have a simultaneous orgasm with this one. you can use it both with and without the vibration. and you can control the intensity "
"I think this one with the plug is... interesting."
"How big you wanna?"
That salesperson was good. I left the sex shop with the strapless with vaginal plug, belt, another little toy and all the instructions for sanitizing and everything.
I got home and found no one there. I knew that Rachel was at an event in Times Square for work and that Santana was possibly at college. It was the perfect time to prepare the room for the special night, after all, I was practically going to take Rachel's virginity for the second time. I fixed the bed and left three aromatic candles ready to be lit. I put two glasses on the nightstand for wine, prepared the music selection and tidied up our bathroom for a shower before or after sex. I was going to wait for things to happen.
Santana arrived dragging her feet.
"I'm dead!" She said and immediately opened the fridge.
"Busy day?" I asked occasionally.
"When isn't it?" She drank the juice and put a hot pocket in the microwave.
"You know we buy these to eat once in a while."
"So what?"
"It's bad to eat them all the time, and you ate one yesterday, if I remember correctly."
"Okay, Rachel, you can take off that mask with Quinn's face on it..."
"I'm serious, San. I'm going to order some food. Why don't you wait a bit?"
Santana thought better of it, didn't turn on the microwave and put the hot pocket back in the freezer. Meanwhile, I took a look at the menu of the Arab restaurant that delivered to the house. I ordered all our favorites, while Santana went to her room to get fresh clothes to take a shower. I saw her passing through the small corridor separating her bedroom door and the entrance to her bathroom. She had clean clothes in hand. Fifteen minutes later, she came out showered and dressed in clothes for staying at home. Meanwhile, I was following the order on the app: it was still being prepared.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked her as I tidied up the kitchen.
"What?"
"After dinner, can you stay in your room until tomorrow morning?"
"Why? Is it your anniversary or something?"
"It's just that tonight I've planned a special night with you sister, and I'd really like a bit of privacy."
"Do you want to do it in the living room?"
"No, I want to have dinner with your sister, alone, and go to our room."
"But today is Blacklist day!"
"I'll give you 50 dollars."
"I want 100!"
"50 and don't complain!"
She held out her hand and I had to open my wallet. As soon as the food arrived, Santana had a quick dinner and went to her room. Meanwhile, I tidied up and waited for my girlfriend. Rachel arrived complaining about how hungry she was and how stressful the event had been, which I thought was perfect.
"Did you prepare dinner for me?" She asked with a discreet smile on her lips.
"Tabbouleh is one of your favorites."
"You're an angel!" Rachel kissed me. "Tell you what: let me wipe the sweat off my body and I'll be back in five minutes."
"Do me a favor?"
"What?"
"Can you put on that red one?"
Rachel raised an eyebrow and turned away without answering me. Ten minutes later, she was dressed only in a oversized T-shirt, but with light make-up and well-combed hair. I loved those details.
"So you've been planning a special evening." She sat down on the counter chair. We really needed to buy a table.
"Maybe..."
We had dinner, but we didn't eat much. I turned on the stereo and we danced together to Marvin Gaye coming from our bedroom in the middle of the living room. Everything was delicious: the dinner, the atmosphere, everything. I just kissed Rachel while we danced alone. No rush, building our mood. I took the bottle of wine and the lighter. I led my lady into the bedroom, poured wine into the glasses, lit the candles. We drank a little, danced some more, and to the rhythm of the selection of songs I'd made, we began to exchange caresses. I squeezed that delicious little ass with both my hands while we kissed passionately. Rachel took off my blouse and I took off her t-shirt. I gasped when I saw that she had actually put on the red lingerie that I thought was so sexy.
I took off my clothes, but not her lingerie. Right there, next to the bed, she knelt down and took care of me. Rachel gave me a wonderful oral job that made me almost lose strength in my legs.
"I wanted to show you something. Something I'd like to try. But if you don't like it at all, I'll understand."
"What is it?"
I went into our bathroom and got the strap-on. I put it on according to the instructions and adjusted it. The salesperson was right about the plug, because it fitted perfectly. I tested the movement with my hand to make sure it would do the job. Then I opened the bathroom door and found Rachel lying on the bed with her legs spread, stimulating herself. It never failed to have an effect on me.
"It took you a while..." She said, still not paying attention to my waist.
I sat on the bed and watched her. Rachel was penetrating herself and making movements to try to go deeper. She had taken off her panties, but kept her bra on, which made her look very sexy. That's when I took her hand out and we intertwined our fingers.
"I think I can help you with this."
That's when Rachel noticed it between my legs. It was a medium-sized, purple, slightly curved piece of material. I think she was confused and scared.
"Quinn... this..."
"You said you wouldn't know if you agreed until you saw one. But if you don't want to try it, I'll understand."
"I don't know... I don't think it's bad... but it's kind of a strange sight, Quinn."
"I find it strange too, but I think it's a matter of get used to. It's not going to be an everyday thing either... So?"
Rachel took two seconds before nodding. We kissed and, in the process, I laid her down on the bed and spread her legs. I kissed those thighs with passion. I kissed her sex and then faced her again.
"This might be a little uncomfortable at first, since you've never had anything this big inside you."
"It's okay... I'm ready."
I positioned myself between her legs and guided the object inside. I put it in slowly, lovingly, watching Rachel's reactions closely. She moaned loudly when I put it all in, and took a deep breath.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just wait a minute... you were right about the little inconvenience."
I started kissing and caressing her so that she would get used to it more quickly, and only feel pleasure.
"Quinn... I think it's okay if you... start..." Them I turned it on.
I took Rachel's hand, our fingers intertwined, and I began to move my hips. First very slowly, feeling the object, which was firm, feeling the good friction of the plug in me. That was really delicious. I can't describe how good it felt to fuck Rachel with our bodies together, with my hands freer to explore more, looking at her face, kissing her. Rachel grabbed my ass with one hand as a signal for me to adjust a little and start speeding up. I did exactly as she asked. The advantage was that I could do it for hours if I had to.
Rachel was panting more and more, moaning louder and louder and saying my name. I was very close too. Rachel dug her nails into my back, then she orgasmed and I was unsure whether to continue at the same pace to reach mine or to slow down and withdraw. As I was very close, I asked for just one more minute. Rachel nodded. That's when I came. It was only then that I slowed down to relax both her and me better, and put off my little friend. I lay down next to her and hugged her.
"Well?" I said, still panting.
"I don't know, Quinn... I think we'll need to do a few more rounds to get it perfect."
"How about getting on all fours? It might be an interesting angle for you to get this little friend."
Rachel's eyes widened, but she agreed. She got on all fours and I put the accessory back on. At that moment, I was fulfilling an old porn fantasy that had never been fully satisfied with my fingers, I confess. I penetrated her from behind, and it was wonderful.
...
August 27, 2014
(Quinn)
Did I ever think about sabotaging Rachel's career? I seriously considered not helping her when I read the gossip in the tabloid. The urge passed and the attitude I took towards my girlfriend's career wasn't to meddle gratuitously. This meant that I would only raise my voice if she received an invitation to do pornography disguised as "art" or a role with strong sexual appeal. Then we would sit down and talk about the pros and cons. But I wouldn't forbid it. I didn't have that power… yet. But the time would come when I would have a more active voice, I would have my official 50%. Apart from that, and unless someone asked me to hand over a script for an audition, Rachel would manage her opportunities as it fit: she had an agent and she had a sister who knew how to handle contracts without charging a percentage.
That's why I didn't accept the accusation that I might have hindered Rachel's participation in "The Saint Woman" in any way. What happened was that director Aaron Smith already had an agreement with an actress of his choice to take on the role of Leslie, the pastor's daughter, the same one that Roger asked me to offer Rachel and call her in for the audition. I didn't know about the deal, and neither did Roger. When I got up in the morning, I couldn't have imagined what a mess the day would be. My girlfriend accompanied me to the production company's office because Aaron would be there settling the last details of the signings since filming was due to start in two weeks. All the main actors were signed, but there were a few last names missing. Leslie was the last major role not yet officially announced, so I thought they were waiting to meet Rachel.
She came into the room with Aaron, but I couldn't follow. I stood outside anxiously, unable to concentrate on the details of the web series, which would start filming next week under James' directorial tutelage. Even with the honor of being camera and camera assistant (which was different from being assistant "to" the camera), there were still production details that I couldn't escape doing. I kept glancing in the direction of Roger's office. Then I saw her stomp out. I tried to run after that hurricane, which ran over whoever was in the way. I caught up with her outside the office, her face already wet with tears.
"Leave me alone, Quinn Fabray!" She shouted and I took a step back almost instinctively.
"What happened in there?"
"I don't know... maybe just another humiliation in my life promoted by you!" She tried to run, but I stopped her and even exaggerated my strength when I grabbed her arm.
"Will you please calm down and explain to me what happened?" Rachel tried to free herself, but that only made me squeeze her tighter.
"You're hurting me!" I wasn't processing the information. I just wanted her to explain what had happened in Roger's room. "Let me go!" It was only when she let out a scream that I let her go.
Rachel took off down the stairs, almost tripping on the steps, and I followed to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. Who knows what could happen? Rachel ran to a cab that was stopped a few meters from the building. I reached out and knocked on the window, but the vehicle pulled away. I tried her cell phone and she didn't answer. A few more calls and Rachel hung up. With nothing else to do, I called Santana.
"Let's hope it's important! I'm in the middle of a lesson." She said, complaining in her whisper.
"Something went wrong at the audition, and your sister ran out of here. She won't answer me."
"Okay... I'll do my best and give you a ring later."
"Thanks, S."
I went back upstairs to the office, which was much more crowded than usual. Rachel's dramatic departure was, of course, the talk. Roger was out of the office, but I couldn't wait for him to find out what had happened. With all the stares in my direction, I took a deep breath and got into the office to face Aaron, who until then hadn't seemed like a bad guy.
"What do you want?" he said a little bored as he took a drink. He seemed really drunk.
"I wanted to know what happened to the actress who just left?"
"Why should that be any of your business?"
"I don't know if Roger said anything, but that actress is in the cast of the play whose proceeds made this movie possible. She left here upset and that's this production company's business."
"Oh!" Aaron took a sip of his drink. "Maybe I was a bit rude."
"Rude?"
"She seems to be a good actress. But I don't have an important part for her. I'd even have one, but she wasn't willing to show how much she wanted it. That's all!"
"You asked her..." I couldn't even finish the sentence. I wanted to punch that disgusting face right in the middle.
"That's it! Do you wanna something else? Do you wanna do the job instead of her?"
"Just one more thing. I just wanted to say that you're a stupid old man and I hope you have an unhappy life! Die of herpes, you piece of shit." I kicked him right in that spot, in a low blow that made him fall to his knees and swear at me with all the horrible names he knew.
It created a stir in the producer's office. James even threatened to fire me immediately, but Roger tried to better understand what had happened together with Denise. My word didn't carry as much weight as that of the acclaimed shitty director, but I did say that the shitty old man had harassed Rachel as a condition of giving her a role in the movie.
Directors and producers try to work with a cast of marked cards, but who, in the end, are the people they trust. And a movie project can sometimes be too long to live with somebody that didn't fit. But when the studio, the real executive producer, makes a point of certain figures, you either agree or leave the project. In the case of "The Saint Woman", Aaron Smith was executive producer with the largest equity stake. He made it possible to put together the 30 million dollar budget so that the movie could happen. Of course, his word would carry more weight in any decision. As good as Rachel was, Aaron didn't want her. Still, I don't know if his drunkenness contributed or not, but the fact is that he took advantage of the situation to harass and have sex. This only happened because Aaron didn't reveled his plans for the part to Roger who, in turn, would never have considered talk to me if the part couldn't have gone to Rachel. Rachel was an actress discovered by R&J in "Songbook", and who was acting under contract with the production company in ATU. She is the golden girl discovered by Roger. Of course, Roger would like to cast Rachel in the film.
"Listen up, Fabray." Roger called me in for a private chat and I honestly thought he was going to fire me right then and there. "I want you to spend the next two days off."
"You're not firing me?"
"No... why would I fire a good employee because of an idiot like Aaron? I know him and I know he's not a very ethical guy in that sense. He's spent his career used to doing these kinds of casting couch without anyone challenging him... That's the industry we live in, if you know what I mean."
"No, Roger, I really don't understand. I know about the stories in our environment, but it's just that this has never happened here at this company before. That was scary, and Rachel, the way she is, would never do any kind of conception of that nature. And neither would I. I'm with her, Roger."
"I know... what I'm asking of you, Fabray, is that it stays between us. Okay? Go home, calm Rachel down and tell her that this will never happen again here at this company and in this office. It's not how we work, you know that. But I can't control all the producers who are partners in the projects we develop. Unfortunately. So go home, calm down and especially calm down Rachel. We don't want these incidents to jeopardize her career, do we? Or yours?"
Yes, unfortunately I understood very well what he meant. That everything would be ignored, and that no one would be fired as long as I and, especially Rachel, pretended that none of this really happened.
My phone vibrate when I received a text message.
"Rachel's with me" – Satan
I was partly relieved by the message. Santana and Rachel had this bizarre intuition that one could tell where the other was at the most absurd moments. But I wasn't well. Not until I could explain everything. I understood Rachel's side. Apart from the dramatic exaggeration of the scene, yes, she had every reason in the world to be furious. I told Virginia that Roger had given me two days off from the office and I left the place. I got home and found my room locked with some of my things on the kitchen counter. Pajamas, panties, toothbrush. Santana wasn't home for some reason, which was too bad because there was no one more rational around to cool things down. I wasn't at all to blame for what had happened and I completely sympathized with Rachel.
"Rachel, please open the door."
"No. You told me to do this audition to humiliate me."
"Humiliate you? Are you crazy? What that guy did... Rachel, would you think that I and even Roger would send you to audition with that guy if we knew it was going to happen?"
"I don't know, Quinn. I don't know anything!"
"Rachel, if you open this door, we'll be able to talk like two grown-ups!"
"No!" Her answer made me punch that door.
Santana arrived in the meantime with a bag from the nearby market. She didn't look happy about the situation. But who would make fun of that? She pulled me up by my clothes and then pushed me away from the door. Then she stared at me. I may have been hot-headed, but I didn't want a confrontation with Santana.
"Your sister locked herself in! It wasn't my fault what happened. I'm just angry about what happened to her."
"I know Rachel is the drama queen... I know you're not to blame for what happened." She said with a strangely rational and calm tone.
"Then get out of my face!"
"No... go to the bathroom and wash your face. Then I promise you that door will be open in about 5 minutes. But what I can't do is let you talk to my sister with a hot head."
"I'm not hot-headed."
"The punch you threw at the door says otherwise."
Santana was right. She always was when it came to Rachel. I obeyed and washed my face. I took a deep breath. When I returned to the living room, Santana was working on locking the door with a wire.
"You promise you'll sort this out, and I'll be able to leave here peacefully to go back to Columbia?" she said as she fixed the wire. I nodded positively. "Another thing, Fabray... look what you're going to do when I open that door."
"I'm going to talk to her and give her my full support!" I said indignantly. "I'm innocent, and no one from the company had anything to do with it. I can guarantee it! Aaron harassed Rachel because he's a predator who deserves to be prosecuted. But... Roger said between the lines that all this would be resolved, that no one would lose their job, if Rachel and I kept it quiet."
"What a bunch of scumbags. It makes me want to leak all this to the press."
"I feel like resigning... but if I do..."
"I know, it's your loss."
"At least I kicked that guy and must have broken one of his balls."
"That's how it's done!" Santana was scary when she spoke calmly in the midst of chaos. "Quinn, now I'm not talking about the creepy director. I'd like him to get a fucking lawsuit for that. My warning to you is about something else: the next time I see an assault mark on Rachel's body caused by you, intentionally or not, finding your things outside your room will be the least of your problems. Understood?"
I swallowed, but nodded. Santana went back to work on the door. It was good to know that she was a tremendous prankster. She began to bend it here and there until, just before the deadline, the door was open. We found Rachel leaning against the headboard hugging her legs. Her face was swollen. From the door, I counted to 20 and breathed. I looked at Santana and nodded, assuring her that she could leave us alone. Then I closed the bedroom door and sat on my side of the bed, with my back to Rachel. As calmly as I could manage, I gave my monologue, explaining what had happened and that neither Roger nor I were responsible for the perversities of a drunken director. At least Rachel was pleased to hear that I had kicked him right in the balls.
"He was stupid!" Rachel said in a weak, flawed voice. "The way he proposed the role was humiliating. He said that if I wanted something better, I'd have to show how much." My blood rose again. I wanted to go back to R&J and smash Aaron's face. I wanted to leave him powerless.
"I'm sorry he did that. I really am, Rach. When Roger asked you to talk to this asshole, I swear it was a sincere intention on his part. But after you told me, I'm glad you're not involved in this project. I heard that Aaron had this reputation, that he used to do casting couch. I never imagined that he would insinuate himself to you."
"Thank God you're not on this project. It would be worse."
"Rachel, I'm an employee of the R&J, not to this project, but I can assure you that if I had to, I would leave. Would you like to report it to the police? You have that right."
"No... It could damage our careers, and it would be unfair. You're a great professional, Quinn. Everyone praises you. I know what happens to women who try to blow the whistle: in this sexist world, they become lying slanderers, and they're scarred for life. As he didn't touch me, I wouldn't have been able to prove anything. It would be his word against mine. That bastard could sue you for assault. No... I don't want that for us, although I wish that monster hell's fire."
I nodded positively. I didn't agree, but I understood that Rachel's fear was true: powerful predators like Aaron unfortunately had a troop of vulture lawyers working to cover up these crimes, as well as destroying the reputations of the victims and disqualifying each one of them. The entertainment industry has always been sexist and women have had to endure horrible humiliations. Men too. For obvious reasons, we don't hear many stories about directors harassing and demanding sexual favors from male actors. But they do exist. The truth was that this kind of thing simply shouldn't exist, that the environment should be ethical and clean. But it wasn't. I wanted to believe that there would come a time when women wouldn't only say no, but expose these predators.
I saw the red mark of my grip on her arm. One more thing I'd like to beat myself up for, I wouldn't even need Santana for that. I gently took her arm and began to massage it, like an apology for that atrocity. I felt her body relax and gradually lean against mine.
"Sorry... for the exaggerated force."
"You didn't mean to."
"Even so, I shouldn't... I would never lift a finger..."
"I know that. You didn't do it to hit me. I was there too, remember?"
"Do you think we could talk to Santana so she can go back to college?" Rachel nodded.
"I'll talk to her."
While Rachel went to reassure Santana that I wasn't some crazy psycho who would do disgusting experiments on her, I lay down and closed my eyes. I wanted to take my mind off the horrible scenes of the day. I only opened them again when I felt the bed move with the small weight of Rachel trying to snuggle up next to me. And we stayed like that for a time I can't even pinpoint.
"The next time we argue for any reason..." I said softly. "... please don't run away from me! You scared me today." Rachel just nodded her head against my chest.
Soon, she was sleeping exhausted. So was I. I didn't even bother to collect my things still on the kitchen counter. I closed my eyes once more and hugged Rachel so that I could smell the light, good scent of her hair. It was my respite from the terrible day.
...
September 18, 2014
(Rachel)
I hate Judy Fabray. Two attempts at a civilized date fell through and I wasn't in the mood for a third. Unfortunately, my long-term relationship with Quinn made that impossible. My girlfriend finished filming the web series and decided to use the extra money she received from the production to pay for a trip to New York for her mother. This was simply desperate for me. Quinn was going on vacation at R&J in October, so I couldn't understand why she wouldn't wait for the opportunity to spend a week in Lima with her mother or something. I wouldn't have objected. But no. Quinn Fabray had to have the wonderful idea of bringing the shrew here: to our house. She was arriving on Friday and knew that living with that woman for three days would be a trial by fire.
"When my parents come to visit us, they pay for their own hotel! Why can't Mama Fabray do the same?" Santana squawked. She was nervous about giving up her room to Judy. As far as I was concerned, Judy Fabray would be sleeping on the sofa, not my sister.
"Why would I let my mother stay in a hotel when I have my own house?" Quinn shouted back.
"Then why don't you give her your bed and your room? If you've forgotten, Quinn Fabray, being entitled to my room is not a favor I owe you. My father pays my share of the rent."
"Santy..." I was tired of the eternal argument. I knew that my sister had a valuable point: it wasn't fair to take away her comfort for anyone. And my father actually paid a third of the rent on my sister's behalf. On the other hand, I didn't want to discuss it with Quinn. The natural stress of having another Fabray here was enough. I considered paying for a hotel near our home for Judy, but Quinn was adamant.
"No, Rachel!" Santana shouted.
"I know there's no justification. I know you're right." This time, I gave Quinn an ugly look, so that she would understand my message. "But it'll only be two nights, and I'll give you my month's salary for peace. I'll pay for you a hotel room."
"I don't want you to pay me anything for something like that, Ray. I just want my rights."
"Santy... make it easier, please! Why don't you stay with the boys? Or with Andrew?" I suggested in the mildest tone I could manage.
"Johnny's apartment is full of foot odor, Mike's is populated by girls with venereal diseases and Andrew's mattress is terrible and he has a depraved roommate." And she stared at me. "Unless I'm looking for Matt... or Izabella. Izabella's bed is great."
"No!" I shouted. I hated knowing that Santana still maintained a friendship with those two, knowing that they knew harder drugs and had no qualms about introducing a person to those things.
"Well, they're the only ones who live in a decent apartment and would let me stay." She paused provocatively. "I'd just have to sleep with them. Not that I haven't done that before."
"Stop that bad joke and respect your boyfriend." I crossed my arms. "In fact, I don't know how you have the nerve to keep this guy in your circle of friends."
"Isn't he the drug dealer from that college group?" Quinn sneered. "Santana has no shame."
"Quinn!" I snapped to attention and Santana raged.
"Mind your own business, Fabray!"
"I will. You're the one who needs to take better care of yours."
"Will you two stop?" I shouted. Quinn and Santana were being very belligerent with each other. More than usual. "Quinn, my sister knows what she's doing, and you don't have to meddle or have any say in her life. And Santy, less please." I took a deep breath. "I'll leave the room then. You can sleep with your mother in our room and I'll take the sofa. Or I'll sleep with Santy, if she'll let me."
"Okay with me." Santana sneered. "As long as I don't leave my bed. I can stand even Rachel's snoring."
"I don't snore..."
"Yes, you do."
"I'll rent your room for two nights. I'll pay you a hundred dollars clean, in your hand!" Quinn was determined.
"I want 500."
"200."
"450."
"250 and that's my final offer."
"No money, okay? I'll sleep with Santy and you share our room with your mother. End of the story!"
"That's okay, Ray. I need the money." Santana raised her hands. "Your mother can stay in my room for two nights, and you owe me 250 dollars. But my opinion and my protest are noted."
"I promise I'll repay you later somehow, but please, Santy..."
"Rachel, that's two days of sleeping on the carpet in this damn living room, because the sofa is out of the question."
"It's good for your spine!" Quinn smiled teasingly, "And you're lucky we bought a new, fluffy rug. Or you could try the sofa, but I wouldn't recommend it if you don't want to take medicine for back pain."
"Of course, you're an expert on the subject since you always sleep here when you're kicked out of your room because you've done something stupid." The smile disappeared from my girlfriend's face.
I wasn't going to get into that battle. I just put my head down and pretended I was looking at something very important on my cell phone.
...
September 19, 2014
(Quinn)
I was anxious. It was the first time I'd been able to give my mother some leisure time, and I wanted things to work out. Especially at a time when my life was good. Rachel was still going strong in the play, I'd had my first professional experience filming, and even Santana seemed to have quietened down after she started dating Andrew. Instead of parties where all kinds of drugs were circulating, I noticed that she began to prefer lighter programs with her boyfriend. Things like going to the movies, attending events in Central Park, walking. Santana started working out regularly again and her health was much better these days.
My mother appeared in the lobby at about the expected time and I didn't shy away from smiling. I ran towards this elegant, small-town woman. She was wearing a plain knee-length skirt, a printed blouse and a jacket in the same color as the skirt. It was elegant for Ohio, but a little out of the New York spirit. It was something I'd fix in no time.
"Quinnie, darling!" She kissed me on the forehead before hugging me. "I missed you so much!"
"Me too, Mom!" I smiled broadly. "I take it you had a good trip."
"It was wonderful. It's been years since I've been on a plane. Oh, Quinnie, I'm so looking forward to getting to know this city with you." She hugged me once more. Only then did she look away and give Rachel a much more discreet smile. I wasn't expecting a party from my mother, so I appreciated her effort to be cordial. "Hello, Rachel." She hugged her quickly. "I see you're doing very well."
"I'm fine, thank you. And you're not too bad yourself."
"Quinnie." She took my arm and we walked out into the hall. "I have so many good things to tell you..."
I also had a lot to tell my mother. I was so happy to finally be able to welcome her into my home and into the city I had adopted.
...
(Rachel)
The Fabrays were getting together and I wanted to keep a minimum distance of one kilometer from them. Even though it was a family reunion, Quinn only saw her mother a few times during the year. Even less than I saw my parents. It's just that things worked differently between us Berry-Lopezes: my parents came to New York whenever they had time, and neither of them fought or picked on Quinn. Judy couldn't afford it, so I thought it was noble of Quinn to want to treat her mother to a weekend in the city. The annoying part: I hated Judy Fabray. And judging by the suitcase she left behind as she walked out arm in arm with her daughter, it only confirmed to me that Judy wouldn't give me an easy time even on my own "turf". At a loss for what to do, I picked up the suitcase Judy had left behind and followed the two of them through the airport.
We got a cab and went straight home. Santana was at college and Quinn took a day off. I still had to work in the evening. The plan was to have lunch at home, and then the two of them could wander around the city. I wasn't sure I'd want to tag along.
"Quinn!" Judy shouted. "Your apartment is wonderful. What a beautiful bookcase you've bought... and the decoration in the living room is divine." I grumbled. It was as if only Quinn was responsible for the decoration.
"I was thinking of buying a four-seater table for the dining room, because it's not always nice to have all your meals on the kitchen worktop. High chairs are nice, but not always comfortable. Rachel didn't think so, because we'd end up cluttering up the space."
"Well, it's a big space you have here." Judy put her hand to her chin as if she were a decorating authority. "With the right furniture, it wouldn't get too cluttered."
Of course Quinn loved her mother's support. She showed us everything in the apartment: the shelf with Quinn's books, our suite, Santana's bathroom/social room, which was also well decorated and had a certain amount of space, the balcony, our closet.
"This is Santana's room." Quinn showed her the tidy (Quinn did the cleaning) and almost spartan room. My sister only had a bed and a desk. Apart from the built-in closet. "That's where you'll be sleeping."
"Quinn." Judy looked at the tidy, well-ventilated room. "I don't think it's right to take Santana away from her comfort."
"Nonsense. Santana is fine with giving up her room to you. Anyway, she usually sleeps out at the weekend to be with her boyfriend." Which was a tremendous lie. Santana has rarely slept out this semester, and she only gave up her room because she was paid 250 dollars. I had to witness the payment yesterday.
"That's very kind of her in this case."
I left my suitcase next to my sister's bed and rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time. Quinn went into the kitchen to finish lunch. Judy joined her in a cheerful mother-daughter reunion. I sat down on the sofa, turned on the TV and covertly watched the two blondes laughing and enjoying themselves between the stewed peppers and the leafy salad. Until the front door opened. Santana appeared by surprise: she usually ate lunch on campus and was rarely home at that time.
"Did something happen?" I asked before she had a chance to greet her visitor.
"Hi to you too, Rachel." She spoke without humor. "Nothing important happened. A class was canceled because the professor had to be rushed to hospital. Apparently he's diabetic and sometimes his blood sugar gets out of control. I wouldn't waste my time with the monitor. So I took the opportunity to come home and spend the rest of the day doing my papers. Maybe I'll go to the gym later." She looked away with incredible indifference. "Hi, Mrs. Fabray."
"Hi Santana." Judy Fabray approached her and squeezed my sister's cheek. She hated that kind of old-aunt greeting. "You look prettier than I remember."
"Thank you." Santana forced a smile. She went to her room and I followed her. "Ray..." She whispered. "Whenever you want my help, just give the bat-signal and we'll get the bitch out of here."
"Rach!" Quinn shouted before I could come up with a Machiavellian emergency plan with my sister. I answered my girlfriend. "Can you get things ready for our lunch?"
"Sure!" Quinn could do that since she was in the kitchen. I understood that she wanted me to take part in the meeting and, above all, not confabulate with my sister. I opened the cupboard, took out our prettiest dishes and set up the counter with the plates and placemats. The cutlery was also a guest item. In less than ten minutes, everything was ready.
"Tests and assignments coming up?" Quinn asked Santana. It was the first time they'd spoken that day and the question had an implied 'what are you doing here?
"The semester started off heavy, because I've taken a little more credits, and I'm full of things to catch up on."
"No choir and no cheerios this weekend then." Quinn raised an eyebrow. She sounded like she was the head of the family and in charge at the table, and that annoyed me. It was as if she wanted to be, God forgive me, Russell Fabray.
"Tomorrow won't be my rotation, thank goodness. You know I hate missing choir."
"Corcoran's gene." I smiled.
"Corcoran's gene!" Santana emphasized. "But don't tell Shelby."
"Shall we say grace?" Judy smiled and I exchanged glances with my sister. Our routine was to make the food and eat it.
"Is today a special day? Should I get my kippah?" Santana frowned and Judy looked surprised. "I should say my prayers with my kippah. It was a life sentence made by the rabbi."
"We never pray at the table except on special occasions or holy days." I explained further. "And when we do, Santana wears her kippah, which is that little hat worn by Jews."
"You never asked to wear that kippah in my house." Judy said somewhat rudely.
"I know, Mrs. Fabray, I don't wear it, but my sister does, because our rabbi told her to." She didn't want to give any further explanation and Santana remained silent. It was a policy she came to love quite often: silence. Especially in front of people she didn't like, but who she also didn't want to pick a fight with.
Judy sighed. At the very least, she thought that her daughter's life with the Berry-Lopezs might be more difficult than she had imagined. Not saying grace before dinner? That's absurd! I almost rolled my eyes again at the thought.
"Well, if we're going to go to all this trouble, maybe we should just eat."
The meal was good. At least it fulfilled one of Quinn's intentions, which was to give Mom a good impression of the house.
"Quinnie says you're studying at Columbia." Judy tried to make conversation. "It's a great university. What are you studying?"
"I'm going to major in economics with applied mathematics, and I might do a minor in business with a focus on finance and Wall Street."
"That should be very interesting. And you dropped out of college, didn't you, Rachel?" Judy didn't even look at me.
"So that I could continue studying..." Santana quickly understood the game Judy would play: comparing where she knew I was weakest, just to put me down. "My college is paid for by my grandfather, my father pays my share of the rent here, but it's Rachel who puts food in my stomach and pays for transportation so I can study, and my books when I need to buy one. She wouldn't be able to support us and get professional work on Broadway while stuck in college." Santana smiled and winked at me.
"Actually..." I sipped my wine. "I could even act and study. But not in a popular play like the one I'm in now. Almost every week we have to do interviews, feed stories on the most diverse topics to journalists. Sometimes there are endless photo shoots. Sometimes I have to go to social events to interact with other actors, directors and producers. We've already had to go into the studio to record the play's soundtrack under a contract with Apple Corps in association with Sony Music. We have professional commitments to help promote the album. At the end of the year we're going on national tour with the play... in short, if I were still at college I wouldn't be able to do any major with the dedication I'd like. I did a satisfactory semester at college and then dropped out. I can still go back if I want to." I smiled when I saw Judy's serious expression. That was an excellent answer.
"I think it's time for dessert." Quinn stood up and started collecting the empty plates. "Rach? Will you help me?"
"Sure."
I won that game. One-nil to me, bitch!
...
(Quinn)
The day in New York was cloudy and threatening to rain, so Mom and I walked along Fifth Avenue, window-shopping and seeing the Empire State, which she had been dying to see. I was very happy to have given her such a good weekend. I remembered when I was little and listening to my mother's dreams. She wanted to travel to Paris (so did I), see London (so did I) and come to New York. Dad promised us a few vacation trips, but we always went to a few nearby places or to the south of the country. The time he took us to California was a surprise. I still couldn't afford a trip abroad, but bringing her to my place for a few days was something I could afford.
I'll never forget my mother's dazzled expression in front of Tiffany. I didn't deny her at least one coffee there either. We also passed a furniture store where we saw a table that would look perfect in the house. Mom insisted that I buy it, but I was reluctant to say that the price was out of my budget. I explained that I would have to discuss it with Rachel first. We walked around the city until the middle of the night, when we were too tired to do anything else, including going to the theater. Rachel could have tickets, but I thought it would be best to leave it until the next day. I thought correctly.
When we got home, Rachel was away working and Santana was lying on the sofa watching television. She had a blanket over her feet and her sneakers were under the coffee table. She was still in her gym clothes and had her hair up.
"Oh… Hello." She fumbled with the rolled-up blanket and picked up her sneakers. "Sorry, I just got back from the gym right here in the building. If you don't mind, I'm just going to get my things and have a shower... then the room is all yours."
I watched Santana enter the room and then leave with her clothes in hand, but before she went into the bathroom, she put her computer on the coffee table. The blanket remained on the sofa. Only then did she take a shower.
"Is she always this messed up?" Mom turned to me. She wasn't shocked by Santana's attitudes, on the other hand, she didn't know her well, and she might have thought Santana was like that. But that Santana didn't match the description I gave in the phone conversations in which I basically portrayed San as the devil.
"Frannie asked the same thing when she came here." I smiled. "But no. The reality is different. San keeps quiet when she's trying to avoid conflict or when she feels uncomfortable."
"Oh! I make her uncomfortable? But of course, Quinnie, I'm taking over her room."
"It's nothing personal, Mom. I can assure you." I folded the blanket so that my mother could sit down.
"You look tired, Quinnie. And I don't mean today. You look really tired."
"It's a lot of work and studying. I can't lower my grades to avoid losing the scholarship and my grades are always on the limit. That's why I'm taking my vacation in October. I won't be traveling, but I'll be able to devote myself better to the most complex period of the semester at NYU, which precedes the end-of-semester exams."
"That's not healthy, Quinnie."
"Another year and a half and I'll get the minimum number of credits to graduate. Then I'll put up with it. I've been working in the field longer than I've been in college, but it's a matter of honor." I looked at my mother seriously. "I'm doing it for myself, and to prove to my father that I made it without his help."
"You shouldn't wear yourself out so much. You're so thin..."
"Mothers will always think their children are thin!" I smiled.
"Really?"
"That's what I think every time I see Beth. She eats like a little lion. Did I have a big appetite when I was a kid?" Mom fell silent. We'd never really talked about Beth. "Mom?"
"Frannie was a foodie. You were always a bit queasy about eating, always quiet, lost in your own world. It only got better after a certain age, which was right around the time you put on weight."
"She must have whetted Puck's appetite..." I started to put away the dishes that were in the dishwasher.
"How's your contact with her?" Mom asked, which was good, because I was beginning to think she was afraid to bring it up for fear of hurting me, or out of guilt.
"I see her whenever the girls and their parents meet. Or almost every time. Shelby mentioned something about putting her in ballet and soccer, to see if she could burn off some energy. Rachel cheered because she herself has done ballet since she was three, as she keeps repeating... and Santana cheered because she played soccer. Shelby doesn't talk about these things with me, of course. It's the girls who pass on the news."
"How petty of her." Mom contorted her face.
"I have no legal claim on Beth. Zero! If Shelby wanted me to, I'd never see her again, and she'd be within the law. Shelby was already very generous when she said I could see my daughter on special occasions. Of course, my relationship with Rachel has made this contact greater and at the same time strange."
"Strange how?"
"Well... Beth is my biological daughter, but in practice I'm her sister's girlfriend." I let out a laugh. That was funny. The whole situation was confusing and comical.
"I don't find these things funny."
"You haven't met her yet, have you?"
"No." Mom admitted. "We've been to different places in that city."
"I'm going to ask permission to take you to the Lopezes' house. Maybe for Thanksgiving this year? Maybe Shelby and Juan will be okay with it, even though you're horrible to their daughter."
"I'm not horrible!" She received a cynical look from me. "I'm not! I treat Rachel like I've always treated all your boyfriends."
"Really? Let's think hypothetically. Would you let me sleep with Rachel at home, just like you did with Sam?" Mom closed her eyes and couldn't articulate a sincere answer. "That's what I thought..." I finished cleaning the stove and started organizing the last details in the kitchen.
"Can we change the subject? I came here to spend time with you, not to fight you."
"Right. Well... tomorrow I'd like to take you to Central Park if it's not raining. I can lend you my sneakers to walk around in."
"I'm surprised you still don't have a car to get around New York with all the things you do."
"I can't afford a car. I know Rachel would with the salary she earns, but it wouldn't do much good with the traffic in this city. It's better to use public transportation."
"A car is always more comfortable than sharing an unhygienic environment with hundreds of strangers. I'm not surprised at how tired you look."
Santana came out of the shower already in her pajamas. It was my mother's turn to splash some water on her body and get ready to rest. I even helped her with the bed before making her comfortable. After my bath, I picked up the book "One Day" by David Nicholls, which I had just finished reading. I used to be like this when I didn't have important work to do in the moments before Rachel came home from work. The girl in question only showed up around midnight, which was unusual.
"Hi." I put the book on the bed. Rachel kissed me before sitting down next to me. "You took your time today."
"Natalie Portman and her husband came to watch us, so we invited them to dinner at the usual place. They agreed."
"Really?" I got excited. "Natalie Portman?"
"I'd already met her at that charity event... but anyway, it was nice. It looks like she'll be making her Broadway debut soon in a drama play. Just a three-month run."
"Interesting." I was a fan of the actress, but I didn't want to seem like a brainless fan. Besides, Rachel would end up making that kind of friendship at some point.
"I didn't stay long at the restaurant, but it was a great date." Rachel ran her hand through my hair. "How was your day with your mother?"
"It was great. Tomorrow we're going to Central Park."
"That's good." She told me with false enthusiasm, which made me a little sad. But I wasn't going to argue. She ran her hand through my hair again and gave me another quick kiss. "I'm going to get ready for bed."
I finished reading the book in the meantime. When Rachel came back into the room to lie down, she simply turned her back on me and went to sleep. She wouldn't give me any fun these days.
...
September 20th, 2014
(Rachel)
For me, I'd sleep late in my soft bed in my airy bedroom. Then I'd drink yogurt on my balcony while reading the newspaper on my tablet and then go down to the gym before facing a tediously domestic day of laundry and food shopping. I'd be happy about that. But no. I had to get up early because Judy Fabray was at home, and Quinn wouldn't spare me to accompany them to Central Park. I got up and put on a going-out outfit for Judy's sake. I found my sister in the kitchen swallowing a coffee and toast while there was no sign of Judy Fabray around the house. Quinn had gone downstairs to buy bread and tubes.
"What's the rush?" I asked.
"I've got class, have you forgotten?"
"Really..." Santana took Saturday morning classes during the semester, which seemed horribly tiring.
"Maybe I'll stay with Andrew in the afternoon... I'm not sure if I'll sleep here tonight, okay? But I'll let you know anyway." She finished her coffee and quickly grabbed her things before rushing out the door.
In the meantime, Judy had come out of my sister's room looking immaculate. She was wearing a skirt just above her knees, a well-cut blouse, her blonde hair tied up in a bun with not a single strand out of place.
"Good morning, Rachel!" She cracked a fake smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Fabray." I'd love to know why she didn't go back to her maiden name since she was a divorced woman. I should call her Miss Penn. "Did you sleep well?"
"Wonderfully well, thank you." It's good that she slept well, maybe she could be less annoying.
I looked into the living room, at the space between the sofa and the coffee table furthest away from the bookcase, where my sister had spent the night in a sleeping bag because she said it was better than spending the whole night on the sofa. Santana, as you might expect, never tidied up 100%. She always left some mess behind. But she was kind enough to stuff the bag and blanket into the hall closet. I wasn't willing to check how she did it, on the other hand.
"I didn't see you come home from work yesterday." Judy said it pretending to be casual, but I understood the insinuation behind it. I was an actress, after all, and my life should be a party in Judy Fabray's eyes.
"We had a special guest at the theater yesterday and the cast went out for a dinner in her honor."
"Do you always get special guests?" I mentally counted to ten.
"Sometimes."
Quinn came in and I was saved by the bell because I don't know if I could keep my voice neutral at Judy's next insinuation. She hugged her mother first, gave me a light kiss on the lips after placing the bags on the kitchen cupboard.
"Did something happen?" She wasn't fooling me when she frowned.
"James called earlier and it seems they're going to need to re-shoot some scenes from the web series. He asked if I could show up at the office this morning to help out."
"Are you going to film today?"
"Unlikely, but I'll have to attend the emergency meeting, so..."
"Oh, darling!" Judy said as if she was in pain. "What a shame! I was so looking forward to our day."
"But you're going for a walk! Rachel will be your hostess, right?" Quinn stared at me in such a way that I could only agree.
Quinn ran off to the R&J and I found myself alone with the shrew. I had nothing to talk about, and hanging out with Judy went against my strategy of avoiding her as much as possible. Judy also looked uncomfortable. So I decided to break the ice before the atmosphere became toxic.
"Would you like to have a drink at the jazz club nearby?" Judy looked at me in horror as if I'd invited her to a brothel. "The music only works at night, of course, during the day they open the café, which is very nice and tasty."
"That's not necessary, dear. I'm not a coffee drinker." She said a little gruffly. Of course not. Judy was a wine drinker… she loved wine as I knew very well.
"We can go to the Museum of the Moving Image, which is here in Astoria and is also very interesting. We can go by bike. Quinn loves that place."
"Quinn made me walk for a living yesterday and my legs aren't so young anymore. I couldn't resist a bicycle."
"We could visit Roosevelt Island, or take a cab to Manhattan. Quinn said you'd visit Central Park, right? We can go there. Or go to Chelsea, which has an excellent fashion district."
"I don't think the weather is firm enough for us to go to the park."
"Did you know we have a zoo in the Bronx? It's near Fordham Hights. It's a great neighborhood to walk around." I forced a smile. I'd love to send her to one of the poorest and most violent areas of the city. The idea sounded so good that I choked just thinking about the images.
"Are you all right?" Judy patted my back lightly.
"It was nothing." I regained my posture. "Fordham Hights is one of the best places in New York. I don't understand why it's so underrated by people."
"I think I'm a little old to be going to the zoo." Judy denied it once again.
"Well, there's a whole city to enjoy and I'm here at your disposal. I may not be as good a hostess or guide as your daughter, but I promise I'll do my best to make sure you enjoy your trip. Staying at home is certainly a waste in a place as vast and interesting as New York. I've lived here for two years now and I'm still amazed at how many things and places I still have to discover. There are beautiful areas in Brooklyn and Queens, if you like, Manhattan is just magical. So it's a waste to stand here."
I was being practical. It wasn't that I wanted to spend hours with Judy Fabray. The point was that you don't waste an expensive trip like that in an apartment, when you have so much to see. This made Judy think a little. Maybe it really was time we were alone without Quinn's interference to settle certain things.
"Did you say Chelsea?"
Not long after, the cab dropped us off near Penn Station, which was also a tourist attraction, and we walked side-by-side towards Madison Square, which I imagined would be a good place to go sightseeing with someone like Judy Fabray. But she didn't seem focused or interested in the shop windows or my explanations. I still tried to be as friendly as possible.
"Quinn and I even saw an apartment on this street." I said good-naturedly as we passed W 25th. "The rent was exorbitant, but we wanted to get into an expensive apartment just to see what it was like. Quinn said she was a lawyer from Ohio who was moving her firm to New York. Of course, the realtor didn't buy the lie because we were too young. We still had a tour, the realtor gave us decorating tips and even had a coffee with us."
"Interesting." Judy smiled politely.
"Technically, Quinn was the first of us to get a job in the city. When she got her first paycheck, we went to the market and Johnny bought us a bottle of beer with her money to celebrate. We each took a sip. Quinn protested because we had spent it on something she didn't like. Then, when I got my first paycheck, she took the money and bought us a hot dog to share. But I'm a vegetarian. So she ate it all, and then did an infamous revenge dance in the middle of Brooklyn."
"You spent my daughter's money on drink? When all of you aren't 21?" She said angrily and I immediately regretted telling her the story. On the other hand, what a hypocrite: she was practically an alcoholic. What right did she have to censor my weekend can of beer?
"Well, Mrs. Fabray, I'm an adult and I'm going to be 20 soon. But that's not a rule, Mrs. Fabray. I don't get drunk in corners, or my sister, or my friends."
She kept quiet and we carried on. But I was getting annoyed by the whole thing: the lack of interest and the occasional reproach. What was the point of trying to do my best if the other person didn't cooperate? So I decided to radicalize.
"Of all the stories here in this city, the one I like best is the time Quinn borrowed a luxurious apartment from a friend of my grandparents just so she could take my virginity."
"How dare you?" Finally Judy had a real reaction, albeit a bad one. "How can you open your filthy mouth to say that about my daughter? As if my Quinn were capable of such an act." She hissed.
"That's exactly how I gave her my virginity. I'm sorry, but that's the true story." I said cynically.
"A person like you couldn't be pure when..."
"When did Quinn sleep with me for the first time? Sorry to inform you, but that's the truth. In fact, I wasn't even the first woman she had sex with! I'm not saying that makes her better or worse. But I wanted you to understand for once that I'm just an ordinary girl, not a sucker for other people's souls. My relationship with your daughter is as normal as anyone else's. We're no different from any other straight couple."
"Is that how you want my acceptance? By saying that my Quinnie is a seducer of girls?"
"Who says I want your acceptance or approval? I don't need it. I already have it from my parents and my family. I'm sorry to be blunt, but those are the opinions that matter to me, not yours. The problem is that your rejection makes Quinn suffer. I don't need to tell you how wonderful Quinn is. I live it every day in our ups and downs. You have no idea how happy it would make Quinn if you accepted her completely, not just a part of her."
"I accept her as she is!" Judy shouted. "What I don't accept is you!"
"And what have I done wrong to make you hate me?"
The answer didn't come. In the middle of Madison Square, Judy sat down on one of the benches and began to cry. I began to feel sorry for that lady. I sat down next to her and hesitantly put my hands on her shoulders in a gesture of comfort. I wasn't sure if she would accept, but she did. I stood there beside her, staring at the floor, not knowing whether to feel sorry or moved when reality finally reached Judy Fabray's eyes and ears.
"It's not easy being brought up the way I was and having to admit that, even so, one of my daughters is..." She hesitated and almost choked. "A lesbian. I haven't even had the courage to tell my family or my close friends. It's a defeat for me."
"But that's absurd and also very sad. Quinn is an excellent person, Mrs. Fabray, and that goes without saying. Having a relationship with someone of the same sex doesn't make her a deviant, a freak or promiscuous. Or me. I might even accept it if the scolding was related to our age. My mother sometimes insinuates that I'm too young to be so committed to Quinn. But what's the harm? Nothing. She studies and works, and so do I. We live well in a nice apartment, she goes to church, I go to my synagogue, we don't have excesses, we're responsible and we love each other. Is that a crime? If you can't see past your irrational prejudice, then I have nothing but regrets."
"She's happy by your side..." Judy spoke hesitantly and reached into her bag for a napkin to wipe away her tears.
"And I'm happy by her side." I said softly. "I love your daughter so much, Mrs. Fabray, that I would sacrifice things that are important to me for her."
"They say that daughters-in-law have it harder than sons-in-law when it comes to mothers-in-law. I guess the saying really is true." She forced a smile while still nursing her tears.
"Maybe..." I smiled genuinely. "My mother always marks Quinn more harshly. Although Andrew isn't a very good yardstick because he's never even been to Ohio."
"Andrew?"
"Santana's boyfriend, I'm sorry I mentioned him like that."
"Not at all." She finished drying her eyes, raised her head and took a deep breath. It was a cloudy day in New York and she was sure it would start raining soon. "I can't guarantee you anything, Rachel. But you have my word that I will make an effort regarding your relationship."
"That's all I ask."
"Well... this square is really pretty."
"It's not Central Park, but look at it." I pointed to the playground. "Isn't it unusual to see that here?"
"It's a beautiful area!"
"It's a beautiful city!"