With a deep, shuttering breath, Rachel grew the nerve to step out of her head and into the real world, making her way to the table.
Not looking up from her notepad, she said, "Hi, I'm Rachel. I'll be your server today. Can I start with your drink order?"
"Rachel?"
The familiar voice caught her off guard and her head popped up, finally seeing the group in front of her.
Surprised, she asked, "Shelby?"
She internally sighed. This wasn't what she needed.
"Hi Rachel."
Rachel gave a kind, weary smile, but she wasn't willing to give more. For the first time, her eyes glanced around the table. Beth was there. Beth was big, and she looked a lot like Puck, but with sandy brown hair and Quinn's eyes.
With the mother and daughter pair was an older woman who looked an awful lot like an older, blonder Shelby and a man with Shelby's eyes. Her parents, Rachel assumed.
Of all the places to end up, of course they had to end up at her restaurant during her shift.
Life was against her, and she was just trying to survive.
Shelby faced Rachel and said, "I didn't know you worked here."
"Why would you?" Rachel asked.
She felt all eyes on her.
"Shelby, who is this?" The older woman asked.
"Mom, Dad, this is Rachel. Rachel these are my parents Jack and Maggie. Rachel is…"
"I was one of her students at McKinley High," Rachel interrupted.
She could see Shelby struggling to find the words, and she didn't want to watch it anymore. Whether they knew about the surrogacy or not, Rachel didn't care. Fact of the matter was that they, like Shelby, would be nothing more than a group of strangers to her.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Rachel could see her boss motioning for her to hurry up. Her other table's order was up, and it was almost time for the midday performance. Great…
Sucking in a calming breath, Rachel asked again, "Can I start with your drink order, now?"
"I want apple juice," Beth said.
"Great, and for the rest of you?"
"Coffee please, Dear," Maggie said, staring at Rachel, curiously looking her up and down.
Rachel jotted down the rest of the table's order before asking if they were ready to order food as well. They were.
"Food will be up shortly. The midday show is about to start, though. So, it will take a little longer."
With that, Rachel left as quickly as she could without being suspicious. Seeing Beth cuddled up with Shelby and meeting her would-be grandparents… It was a lot added onto and already claustrophobically full plate.
"Here's table 10's order," Rachel called out to Aaron, the chef.
She leaned back against the counter, taking a second to look back over to table. Shelby was fixing Beth's hair as the child told an animated tale about this or that, capturing everyone's attention.
She didn't know what to make of it. She didn't know how to feel. It was par for the course as of late.
Lights flashed on and off, alerting staff and patron's that the midday performance was about to begin.
"Ten minutes 'til curtain."
Time to drop off the food on the pass and then get ready…
She found her way into position and waited for the music to start. With the holidays around the corner, all the midday songs on weekends were appropriately themed. They all put on their song and dance. The diners always ate it up. Rachel tried to keep up, but she wasn't feeling it. Physically and emotionally, she wasn't at her best.
Usually, she enjoyed the attention and applause a lot more. Now, she just wanted to be anywhere but the spotlight. It was like her dreams were dying right in front of her.
Where the clapping usually gave her energy and fed her desire to be seen, now it gave her the perfect opportunity to exit stage left.
Rushing out, Rachel barely heard the "nice show" from a customer. None of that mattered. The applause and adoration meant nothing when it felt like she was suffocating.
She needed air. Everything just felt so stifling, and she wasn't prepared for a Shelby sighting. She wasn't prepared for anything.
Running out into the side alley, Rachel bumped into a towering stranger. He apologized and reached out a hand to help her up, but it was too late. Her mind was reeling, and she fell back into her memory.
His hand gripped tightly at her waist, holding her in place. His body straddled hers.
Rachel was weak and sloppy in her movements, trying to push him off, trying to move away from his touch… his kiss.
He tasted of whiskey and lemon, his breath hot on her skin.
One of her wild swings landed feebly on his face, causing him to jerk back.
"Don't touch me," she mumbled.
"Don't touch me."
"Sorry. Sorry," the guy said and walked away, not daring to look back.
Her chest felt heavy. Breaths came in shallow pants. She felt like she was sweating and shivering at the same time, despite being out in sub-30-degree weather with no coat. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she swore she could hear blood rushing throughout her body.
Was she dying? Was this what a heart attack felt like? Why couldn't she breathe? What was happening to her?
Suddenly, a hand touched her shoulder, sending her jumping back into the brick wall.
"Are you ok?" the voice asked.
Through blurry vision, Rachel tried to place the face, but nothing was clear. Everything was garbled. Nothing made sense. Nothing was real.
When the voice repeated the question, Rachel muttered out a broken, "Fine."
"Rachel," the voice said. "Breathe. In and out. In and out."
She listened to the melodic hum of the repetitive "in and out," trying to even out her breaths. Slowly, the feeling of dying eased. Her vision cleared and the world around her came into focus. Rachel watched as her helper sat next to her.
The two sat in companionable silence until Rachel's breathing regulated and she seemed calmer.
"You were great in there," she said, dancing around the current predicament. "You always are."
"Shelby, what are you doing out here?"
"I wanted to tell you how great you did performing."
"Thanks," Rachel said, not looking at her mother. "Now you did, so you can go."
A pregnant pause.
"What are you even doing here?" Rachel asked.
"I came out here looking for you."
"No. Not here," she said, motioning to the alley, "Here at the restaurant."
"Oh. Beth's friend came here and told her all about it, so we just had to go and show Grandma and Grandpa while they're in town."
Genuinely, Rachel responded, "That's nice."
"I didn't know you worked here."
Rachel scoffed at the defensiveness of it all.
"Why would you? We don't talk."
Shelby felt like she deserved the snipe and didn't react. It was true. They didn't talk. Sometimes, it just felt too hard to be around her daughter who wasn't her daughter. In truth, they hadn't talked since Rachel's senior year of high school. Sure, Shelby did the occasional Facebook check and sent an unanswered message after Finn's death, but there was no contact between them.
"What I'm trying to say is I'm not here to bother you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"No offense, Shelby, but I have enough to worry about in my life right now. You're not exactly on the radar. I don't think you're thinking about me at all because I'm not thinking about you either."
"Ouch. Guess I deserved that."
Rachel knew it was harsh, and didn't mean for it to come out how it did, but she also just didn't have it in her to sugar coat it. She wasn't lying. There was enough going on in her life that she didn't need the drama that was Shelby Corcoran, her mother not mom, added into the mix.
She didn't even have it in her to apologize.
"I'm sorry about Finn. I heard about what happened."
"Thanks," Rachel mustered.
"How are you doing?"
"Fine."
As fine as she could be.
With a cold butt and ignoring the slight, Shelby asked, "Feeling like you can get off the cold ground now?"
Rachel nodded, suddenly feeling the frigid cold sting through her body.
"Good."
Shelby stood and offered her hand. Rachel gingerly took it. Shelby read it as hesitancy because it was her rather than Rachel worried about aggravating her injury.
Shelby pulled Rachel up, watching as the girl tensed and grabbed her side.
"You ok?"
"Fine."
Another awkward silence fell on them as Shelby looked over Rachel. She noticed it in the performance too. Rachel wasn't moving well. She was great, but she didn't dance around as much as the other workers, and she looked uncomfortable now.
She didn't feel it was her place to press Rachel on it though.
"Has this happened before?"
"What?" Rachel asked.
"The panic attack."
Embarrassed, Rachel was quick to say, "I don't know what you're talking about. That's not what that was."
"Rachel, Sweetie…"
Her tone was sad and admonishing, like she was trying to tell Rachel to stop being in denial.
"Don't. Look Shelby, thanks for the concern I guess, but I'm fine – I'm fine –and I need to get back to work."
"Rachel," Shelby called out, but Rachel had already scattered back into the restaurant.
Shelby had no idea what just happened, but now she had reason to worry. She would be the first to admit that she didn't know Rachel well, but it seemed like she wasn't herself. She didn't have her usual air about her, the drive and passion. She seemed… Sad. Sad seemed to be the best way to describe it.
She couldn't think much about it, though. She needed to get back to her family.
Meanwhile, Rachel went right to the bathroom. Her breathing was coming in heavy again, and she didn't like the feeling. The dread. The worry. The pain. It was too much. It sent her spinning.
It didn't help that she must have hit her leg again, irritating the healing wound. Thinking about that, though, would make her think about how she got it. She couldn't do that. She had to not think about anything.
"Focus on work. You're at work. Just focus on the customers," she told herself, splashing some water on her face before throwing on a show smile and getting back out there.
Break over. She had customers to feed.
Reminding herself to breathe again, she went to check in with Aaron and her orders. Three more hours until end of shift. Just three more hours.
"Order Table 10," Aaron told her, placing plates on the pass.
"Great," she thought. "Right back to Shelby."
Juggling the four plates, Rachel made her way to the table, gently placing each dish in front of the diner.
"Thank you," Jack said, his eyes glued to Rachel.
"Sure. If you need anything else, please let me know."
But please don't need anything else, she thought.
Unfortunately, they did. When she passed by the table, they asked for a refill for Beth's drink, and Jack took the time to ask Rachel a few questions about Shelby as a teacher and if she was part of the club Shelby ran.
"No," Rachel said. "Shelby erected a new glee club at my school to compete against ours, taking some of our members with her." Pointedly, she added, "We were never on the same team."
Shelby looked away from her father's stare.
"So you're from Ohio then, Honey?" Maggie asked. "What brings you to New York?"
"I go to school here," Rachel explained. "I go to NYADA, a performing arts college."
"Big dreams. Just like our Shelby had at your age."
"I'm sure."
Rachel was just about to make an excuse to leave when Beth burst out with, "Rachel looks like Grandma. But Grandma has my hair and Rachel has your hair, right mommy?"
Everyone turned to stare at Rachel. The scrutinizing gazes made her shrink away. It was like they were trying to figure her out, see what she was hiding, and she couldn't let them know. Logically, she knew that they couldn't see anything. The bruises were covered and most of the marks were more emotional, but she felt as if she was standing there naked under their stare.
"Oh, you're right Bethie," Maggie confirmed. "The ladies at the club will get a kick out of this. Meeting a young doppelganger in the city. It's so New York. Would you mind?" she asked, holding up her phone. "Then I can say I met you before you made it. The ladies really would love it."
Blowing out a big breath, Rachel nodded and bent down to be at eye level with the seated patron. Maggie passed the phone to Shelby who was seated opposite her.
"Smile," Shelby said.
Rachel tried. Maggie was gleaming.
"Wow, you really do look like me," Maggie said. "And like Shelby when she was younger. Oh! Shelby, you should be in the picture too. One more, please?" she asked Rachel.
Shelby tried to protest, tried to tell her mother to let it go. Jack stopped her though.
"If it's ok with the girl, Shelby, then let your mother have her fun."
Again, all eyes were on Rachel, including her boss silently telling her that customer knows best. So she nodded.
"It's fine," she acquiesced.
Now it was Jack's turn to take the picture. The three woman stood side by side, Maggie in the middle separating mother and daughter with an arm around each's shoulder. Jack got one picture in before Beth jumped up and said she wanted to be in it too. With one last snap, Rachel quickly stepped out of the hold.
Rachel could only force so much, and she needed out of there.
"I have to get back to work," she said and retreated.
"I hope we didn't bother her too much," Maggie said. "But she was a good sport."
"Yeah…"
"Are you ok, Shelbs?" Jack asked.
"I'm fine. Come Beth, finish your food. We still have some shopping to do before we head home."
Now, she was starting to feel a little claustrophobic as well.
"Look how nice the picture turned out, Shel," Maggie said, passing her the phone again. "A stranger who looks so much like us. It's uncanny. She looks a little uncomfortable though. Too bad. My friends are going to think Jack here had a love child. Ha. Like he'd do that."
"You know I wouldn't," he assured.
Shelby's heart hurt looking at the picture. Pieces of her life were colliding, and it was messy. She was sure – and correct – that Rachel was feeling the same way.
Staring at the picture, all Shelby could think, though, was how unhappy Rachel looked. Sure, she was smiling. She put on the act, but years on stage and practicing gave her the unique ability to see the show face. She couldn't help but feel like she was the cause of that here, at least part of it.
Rachel never returned to the table. After the photo session, Rachel couldn't stand to be there another minute. She went into the back room and begged Shana to take the table.
"You can even keep the tips," she said.
She huffed, "Of course I'm keeping the tips. I'm doing the work."
Rachel didn't even care. She didn't care about the money. She didn't care about the praise. She didn't care about anything anymore.
She stayed there until she saw Shelby and her family leave. She watched as Shelby looked around, presumably for her, and walked out the door. Only then did she come out.
"Head home."
Rachel jumped.
"What?"
"Go home," her boss told her. "You've been off the last few days. With Santana and a lot of staff out of town, I need you to be on your game. Go home, rest or whatever, and come back Tuesday for your next shift ready to go."
"I'm sorry," she told him, head bowed.
She couldn't do anything right.
"It's ok, Rachel. I don't know what's going on, and I don't wanna, but go take care of yourself."
"Thank you," she said, pulling off her apron to hang in locker before heading out.
Wrapped in her big winter coat, Rachel stepped wandered the city for a bit to catch her breath.
Even the city she loved wasn't giving her any life back. Instead, it made her paranoid. She saw danger everywhere. She was afraid, she realized. Every passerby was a potential threat. And he lived there. She could see him again. Would he look for her?
What would happen next?
All she knew was that she had to get home. She felt dirty and gross and like everyone could see the truth. She was nothing… No one. Worthless. Used. Washed up before she even had a chance to shine.
She hopped on the subway, taking the last available seat in the car, sandwiched between two old women. She didn't feel safe there, but safer than she would standing by the businessman on the other end of the car or the teen boys passing a ball back and forth.
What had she been reduced to?
The ride felt like it took forever. The walk to the apartment was slow and tedious. It started to snow, and the chill set in. She just always felt so cold, so raw, so empty.
When she made it to the apartment, there was a box outside the door with her name on it. Thinking nothing of it, she grabbed it and carried it in. Assuming it was one of her Amazon orders, she left it on the table and forgot about it.
Since she was out early, she knew she would have too much time to think. The first thing she needed to do was take a long bath. That had been her second home since it happened. She just couldn't get the filth off her. She scrubbed and scolded until her skin tore, and nothing ever helped. Nothing made a dent.
Then she'd sit in the tub until the water was ice. Still, she felt numb. She didn't know how she could feel so much and feel absolutely nothing at the same time. Sitting in the water, though, she felt safe from the outside world. It was the only solace she had now, but it couldn't last forever. There were things she needed to get done, and to do it, she needed to get out.
By now, Santana and Kurt were back in Ohio starting their family holiday traditions like she should be. She was sure her dads probably called a million times. She had been avoiding her phone. She just didn't want to talk or interact or scroll through Instagram looking at all the happiness that she felt so far removed from.
But she couldn't avoid that forever. If she didn't call her fathers, they would have shown up for a welfare check and she wasn't sure her acting was up to par right now to pull off that visit. Nor did she think she could do the deep, heartfelt conversations they always did without breaking into a million pieces.
When she finally checked at her phone, there were a plethora of messages. Santana and Kurt left a bunch of updates about their trip and how their families wish she came back with them.
I'm glad you're home safe. Have so much fun. Wish I was there with you, she wrote in the roomie group chat.
Done with that for now, Rachel hesitated over the call button by her fathers' number. She loved them. Truly, they were the best parents, but it was so hard to pretend with them.
"Now or never," she prompted, hitting the button and listening to the tone.
"Rachel! Finally, sweetheart. Where have you been?"
"I'm so sorry, Daddy. I've just been so busy. Between work, school, extra practices… I've just had no time to do anything but come home and sleep."
"You work too hard."
"I love it," she said. "Is Dad there too?"
"You're on with both of us Rachie."
"Hi Dad."
She smiled. It was good to talk to them. Even when they didn't know what was going on or how to make her feel better, they still managed to give her comfort.
"Are you okay?" Leroy asked. "Are you eating enough? Drinking enough? Taking care of yourself?"
"Of course, Dad. Always."
"Well, what are you doing for the holidays? Did you get our birthday present?"
"I did. It was wonderful. I've been meaning to call you to thank you. So, thank you. Really. So much. Kurt and I are going to have a blast going to see the show this spring."
"We're so glad."
"But what about the holidays? Are you doing anything? With Kurt and Santana here, do you have anyone there to spend them with? You know we'd be there with you if we could."
"I know. I…" Think, Rachel… Think. "I'm going to an orphaned kid event at school. It's a misnomer because it's not necessarily for orphans – though some are, I'm sure – it's just a bunch of kids who couldn't make it home for the holidays or didn't have any visitors coming for whatever reason. It's a potluck type thing, I guess. I'm bringing Nana's apple pie."
"A crowd pleaser," Leroy approved.
"Are you sure you can't come home for the holidays?"
"Sorry, Daddy. Trust me, I rather be there too, but I'm working at the restaurant until Christmas Eve, and then I'm helping with the NYADA winter-term classes. It's a good opportunity to make connections."
"It just sounds like you're working too hard. You're in New York to pursue your dreams, and you can't do that if you don't have time for auditions."
"Do you need money, Sweetheart? We would be happy to send you more if you wanted to leave the restaurant."
"I love you for that, and thank you, but no… No. You already paid for too much. I need to do this on my own."
"We just worry," Leroy told her. "We love you."
"I know. I'm… I'm fine."
"You really don't sound fine to us, Rachel."
She tried hard to keep up the ruse, to sound happy and normal, but she just couldn't. She was near tears now. She missed them. She missed their comfort. It was one of the few times she was homesick for Ohio… at least what Ohio held for her.
"Leroy, our baby is crying. She's crying!"
"Rachel, what's wrong?"
Leroy grabbed his husband's hand as the two waited with bated breath for their now sobbing daughter to respond.
"I'm fine," she mumbled. "It was just a long day."
The words rang false no matter how hard she tried, and the tears kept coming. This was why she had avoided her fathers. Hearing their loving voice and encouragement just made her feel worse. No matter what was going on between the two of them, when it came to her, they always came together and supported her. Now, through no fault of their own, they just made the flood dam break.
"That's it. We're getting on the next plane out there. Work be damned."
"No. No, please," she begged.
That wasn't what she wanted. If she was this much of a mess just talking to them, a hug from them would be the end of it.
"I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"You're not fine, Rach."
"What's the matter? What happened?"
"I'm just sad I'm not going to see you," she said. At least it wasn't all a lie. "It's the first holiday season without Finn… And I ran into Shelby today. It was… It was awkward."
"Oh baby. Everything will be alright."
"I'm just stressed," she said in between a sob. "You know I'm dramatic."
"Don't we know it baby," he laughed a sad laugh.
"Rachel, talk to us. Did something happen with Shelby?"
"No, Daddy, Dad. Nothing happened. I'm just… I'm sad because Finn and everything. Seeing her with Beth and her family… It just messed with me. I'm sorry for being a blubbering mess."
"Never apologize for being you, love."
"I'm just not used to being here by myself."
"Are you scared? Do we need to send you a new whistle?"
"Or mace. We can get you mace."
Now she laughed through her tears, "Daddy, I don't need mace, and I don't think you can send it in the mail."
"We'll still get you some next time we're in town."
"Rachel, we don't want you to be lonely there. If you can't come home, are there any of the orphan friends you can spend a little more time with?"
"Dad, I'm ok. Really. I know I'm probably scaring you. Honestly, I'm just emotional right now. Shelby just… You know how it is when I see her. It's just hard and it was on top of a long day. I start working at NYADA right after New Year, but they're allowing me to use studio space before, and Kurt and Santana will be back before then."
"We really hate to see you this way."
"I know. I know." She sniffled before asking, "Remember when I was little and you would tell me the story of Hanukah every year?"
"Of course."
"Can you do that now?"
"You want us to read to you?" Leroy asked.
"Just this once."
The two men looked at each other in concern, but readily agreed.
"Of course we will."
"Get cozy, Rach. You know Daddy likes to really get into it."
Hearing them tell the story, Leroy jumping in to tell the tale of Christmas as well, just like he always did, Rachel calmed. It took her back to a safe place, back to home, back to childhood.
"Thank you Daddies."
"Anything for our princess."
"I love you. I'm sorry I can't make it home this year."
"We know. We love you too. Try to call us more often."
"I will."
"Take care of yourself."
"I will, Dad. It's getting late. I need to shower and get ready for bed."
"Ok."
"Rach?"
"Yeah Daddy?"
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. Just tired. Thanks for telling me the story. We'll talk soon. Bye Daddies."
She hung up before they could ask more questions. She was pacified. They helped. She needed to stay in the momentary calm as long as possible.
Calmed and lost in the memory of a good time, Rachel went about her old, typical routine. Fake it 'till ya make it, right?
Tea with honey was made. She curled up on the couch, ready to flip through the channels hoping to find something mind-numbing to keep the thoughts quiet. Finding something she could tolerate, she got up to grab the package that came, thinking it was probably the new yoga mat she bought a few weeks ago.
Taking scissors to slice through the tape, Rachel ripped open the box, pausing when she saw the contents.
"Flowers?"
She double checked that they were addressed to her, then looked for the sender's address… There was none. Pulling out the card, she read it, and her heart stilled.
Panic gripped her. She ran to the door, bolting every lock. Back slammed against the metal, she crumbled down to the floor, once again in tears, tossing the note as far as it would go.
Anger, fear… Everything was coursing through her.
Rachel,
I had a wonderful night with you. You play hard to get, and I like that about you. Thanks for a good time. Let's do it again.
See you soon,
J.