A/N: I had to fix this chapter when I discovered a HUGE plot hole; Quinn and Brittany do not read Spanish. ~facepalm~
When trying to figure out why there would be English translations of Abuelo's musings, I remembered my uncle – he couldn't read or write Spanish but spoke it fluently. He could read/write English just fine but was raised in a household where the primary language was Spanish so he and my mom were both fluent but he almost failed Spanish in school because he couldn't read or write it.
So, abuelo wrote that Santana was fluent and knew her ABCs but couldn't write them and nothing further was said so I figure Miguel hedged his bets, just in case Santana couldn't read Spanish, and had someone transcribe a translation.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Chapter 67
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Santana's POV
Santana wiped away the tears she hadn't realized she'd been shedding. Her abuelo. She still missed him every day. She had no idea he and her mother had conspired to thwart Carmela and Julio.
She'd had no idea how much he'd known, how much he had understood.
She'd had no idea how much he'd loved her. He'd always told her he loved her, made sure she knew he did; she never understood the depth of it.
He had actually seen her. He knew she liked girls and the only reason he cared was because he knew how difficult the she-devil and her spawn would make things for her.
She carefully set aside the notes from him and briefly scanned the rest of the documents Miguel had sent.
Interest bearing … securities … portfolio … she frowned. A lot of legal and accounting jargon that she didn't quite grasp the nuances and complexities of.
What she did grasp, however, was the bottom line; at the time those reports were printed off, her trust was worth about six million dollars. She couldn't wrap her head around that number. Of course, she'd know her abuelo had been wealthy. He'd been an exceedingly successful businessman and real estate developer; he'd had a knack for knowing what the "next big thing" would be. He invested wisely and then bought real estate and developed things like malls and office buildings. But she remembered him telling her that he also funded parks and donated to the zoo, several museums, the planetarium, and had opened two art galleries for new artists; because those things were important. Malls and office buildings may be wanted, possibly even necessary, but they weren't important. People were important and people need green spaces and places to learn and grow.
She felt another pang of longing. He'd never even told anyone he was sick; Santana had been so angry with him at the time. Angry that he hadn't told her, hadn't given her a chance to say goodbye, angry that he left her; the only adult she felt she could truly count on, the only one who made her feel safe.
She felt slightly ashamed that she hadn't trusted him with her secret. He had known and had let her keep it; never hinting or teasing. Just quietly, steadily, loving and supporting her.
The tears wouldn't stop. She was mourning him all over again.
She heard the key in the lock and tried to scrub the tears from her face but Quinn knew her too well.
"What's wrong?" She sat down next to Santana and pulled her into a hug. "What happened?"
Santana simply clung to Quinn for a few moments, relishing the comfort Quinn was providing.
When she pulled away, she simply gestured to the papers she'd set on the coffee table.
"Those came from that lawyer today. Go ahead."
Quinn picked up the papers and looked at them.
"Uh, San, honey? I can't read Spanish."
Santana took the sheaf of papers and shuffled through them until she found the English translations of her abuelo's musings; Miguel must have had someone transcribe them, just in case Santana couldn't read Spanish.
She handed them back to Quinn and she began to read through them. Santana watched as Quinn's eyes teared up, too.
"Oh, god, I'd forgotten about Tanya," she laughed through her tears, "I was so glad when you finally stopped talking about her." She side-eyed Santana and grinned slyly. "But, apparently, you have a type."
"Shut up!" Santana slapped playfully at Quinn's arm.
Quinn laughed again and went back to her reading.
"Damn," Quinn sat back and stared at Santana, "you're like … mega-rich."
"Yeah."
"Can I have a pony?"
Santana laughed. "I love you."
"Love you, too, honey. So. Now what?"
"Nothing until I get married, have a kid, or turn twenty-five," she shrugged. "I don't need the money. I mean … no one ever really needs that kind of money. I had no idea how wealthy my abuelo was; he wasn't like Julio, he lived simply. His only real splurge was a new car every five years. He spoiled me but I don't know; it wasn't like," she frowned, "he didn't give me everything I wanted but what he did give me was always good quality, you know? And, he never said no if I wanted to go to the zoo or the park but when we went to the mall, he didn't buy me everything I asked for. He wasn't frugal or cheap. He just didn't spend money on stupid, unnecessary stuff, you know?"
"Yeah, I remember the trips to the zoo; he only allowed us one souvenir but bought us whatever we wanted to eat when we were hungry." Quinn nodded thoughtfully.
"That monstrosity of a house was all my abuela. I remember moving in when I was five?" She paused to think about it. "Maybe? I remember her talking about all the entertaining they would be able to do to drum up more business for my abuelo, and to cement their position at the top of the social ladder," she chuffed a laugh, "she had no idea that my abuelo had no interest in doing business with anyone my abuela deemed 'desirable' and he couldn't have cared less about his place in 'society'. He told me about it when I was twelve and I asked him about the big parties abuela said they used to throw and how she missed them. It seems my abuelo had a way of alienating people he didn't want to do business with so … people stopped accepting invitations."
"That sounds like your abuelo. He was a really sweet man. Sweet, simple, caring – but he was really no-nonsense – if he didn't like you, he didn't pretend he did. I don't remember him ever being rude about it, though. I remember he always had candy or gum in his pockets for us and told us not to tell our parents; like it was this big secret even though he gave us the candy right in front of your mother." They smiled at the memory and fell silent for a moment.
"I'm glad he approved of me and treated me like I was his granddaughter. I'm also really glad he left you those musings." She glanced over at Santana. "Tell me you don't feel amazing having read all of that."
"I do." Santana agreed. "It just made me miss him all over again. Like, I mourned him when he died but then I found out this whole new thing about him that I never got to talk to him about so I get to mourn all over again."
"Yeah." She pulled Santana into another tight hug. "He loved you. And he confirmed what we've started suspecting about your mother … she's been quietly, carefully, running interference for you. The two of them are really something else. I wonder if your mother knew about this but couldn't tell you for fear of Julio and Carmela finding out."
Santana nodded. "It wouldn't surprise me." She sighed, "I'll have to remember to apologize to her."
The sound of a key in the lock startled them and Santana was surprised to see Brittany walk into the living room.
"Hey. What are you doing here?" She was confused; Britt was supposed to be at rehearsal.
"Um … did you not want me here? I mean, you two do look awfully chummy …" she narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion, "something I need to be worried about?"
Santana broke into a grin and Quinn started laughing as she got up and moved to the love seat. "No, I just thought you were rehearsing with Mike after your class."
"Honey, it's six o'clock. Did you lose track of time?"
"What?" Santana picked up her phone and was surprised to find that Brittany was right.
"Wow. Yeah. Um …" she motioned to the papers Quinn had set back down, "I got that stuff from the lawyer's office today and kind of got lost in it. Then Quinn came home – I guess I should have realized how late it was when she got home – and she started looking through the papers and we got to talking and …"
Brittany leaned down and kissed Santana softly. "You were starting to ramble, sweetheart. So, what's in the papers? If you don't want to talk about it ..."
Santana reached over and picked them up, handing the translated pages to Brittany, who smiled her thanks at Quinn, as she sat down next to Santana.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Forty-five minutes later, Brittany was looking as stunned as Quinn had.
"I got me a sugar-mama! Score!" Was the first thing out of her mouth.
The three of them laughed. "Yeah, Quinn already asked for a pony."
"Hey, get in line! She's my girlfriend!"
"Well, she's my best friend, so …" Quinn stuck her tongue out at Brittany.
"Hmph."
"Um, guys? I don't actually HAVE the money yet. Remember? Stipulations?" Santana giggled.
"Oh, right. I guess we can have this fight when there's actually something to fight over?" Brittany gave Quinn a toothy grin.
"I can live with that." Quinn smiled back at the taller blonde.
Santana smiled at both of them and sent a silent thank you up to her abuelo … she was pretty sure he had something to do with where she was right now and who she was with; away from Lima and with two amazing women who loved her.
Brittany smiled softly at Santana. "I'm sorry I never met your abuelo; he sounds amazing."
"Yeah," Santana's voice was quiet, "he was."
"Okay, have we covered everything about these papers?" Quinn asked abruptly.
"Yeah, I think so." Santana nodded. She took a deep breath; that had been a bit of an emotional roller coaster.
"Good." Quinn gathered the papers, slipped them back into the envelope, and walked it into Santana's bedroom. "Topic change. This weekend." She glanced at the two people on the couch as she re-entered the living room and settled back down on the love seat. "Are you ready?"
Brittany smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Mike and I are ready; final dress rehearsal is Thursday night. San, you sure you wanna come all three days?"
"Yep! Can't wait. I'm going Friday with Aubrey, Declan, Jamie, and Donovan; Saturday with your family; Sunday with Quinn and Daniel. So, yes. I'm sure." She nodded with a smile.
"Okay. And you're sure you're gonna be up to performing Saturday night after the Showcase?" Brittany's forehead was creased in concern.
"Yeah. I told Puck we just needed to start at ten instead of nine." She shrugged. "I'd have canceled altogether but your dad said Rob was bringing Jess and she wanted to see me. They'll just need to drop the kids back at the hotel after your show. I'll probably be a zombie after your show on Sunday but I'll be fine. Promise." She smiled warmly at her girlfriend; she was truly excited to finally see her perform.
"I'm excited," Quinn said, "I can't wait to see you dance! I can't believe this is the first time we're going to see you."
"Well, I didn't do the Winter Showcase because I didn't take any dance classes last semester; I took some of the technical classes I need instead of the movement classes."
Quinn nodded her understanding. "Gotcha."
They talked for a little while longer; until Quinn had to leave to meet her study group at the library. Santana started to get up to make dinner for herself and Brittany but Brittany stopped her.
"You look dead on your feet, honey. I know it's been a tough day for you." Her voice was quiet and laced with concern. "Let's just order a pizza. Then you can crash and I can study while you sleep."
"I should really study, too," Santana sighed. It was mid-April, finals would be here in no time.
"Honey, you're not going to be able to retain anything right now. Lie down for an hour and see how you're feeling afterward."
"Okay," Santana nodded.
After they ate, Santana lied down on the couch on the theory that she'd be less likely to sleep through the night; she'd just take a short nap and then she'd be able to get some studying done.
The theory was disproved when Brittany woke her at midnight to take her contacts out and go to bed.
