Bella clapped her hands eagerly. Since she'd learned how to do it a few weeks before, clapping at anyone and anything had become her favorite activity. She mumbled in her adorable baby language and crawled around her playpen. Santana sat on the edge of her bed just watching her, a small smile playing on her lips. Her daughter was eight months old today. She couldn't believe how the time had flown.

"Santana, we're ordering Chinese for dinner." Finn poked his head in. "What would you like?"

"Oh, I had some food at the cocktail party before coming home," Santana replied dismissively. "Don't worry about me."

"You do realize that Kurt is going to come in here in about 30 seconds and pester you until you order something, right?"

Santana chuckled, knowing that Finn was probably right. "Fine. I'll just have some sweet and sour pork. With noodles."

Finn smiled and gave a thumbs-up as he disappeared out of the doorway.

"Maammaaa," Bella gurgled, grabbing her teething toy and biting it.

Santana froze. "What did you say, baby girl?"

Bella just gave her mother a big smile and went back to her teething toy. Santana moved from the bed and sat down next to Bella's playpen, looking at her intently. Surely her mind wasn't playing tricks on her?

"Mmaaa," Bella said, looking at her toy and waving it around.

Santana smiled and shook her head. She was only eight months old, for Christ's sake. She couldn't talk yet.

"Mammmaa," Bella said again. Santana met her eyes, and Bella smiled. "Maammaaa." She held up her arms.

"Oh my God," Santana whispered, her face breaking out into a wide smile. She knelt and reached into Bella's playpen, picking her up and seating her daughter on her lap.

Bella's hands immediately went to Santana's face, one of her favorite things to touch. "Mmamaaa."

"That's right, baby girl," Santana replied with a smile. "I'm your mama."

"Maammaaa."

Gathering her daughter into her arms, the ecstatic mother ran into the living room.

"She said Mama!" Santana squealed.

The next hour was spent fussing over little Bella's newest development, and Santana felt like exploding from pride and happiness. Then, there was a chime at the door, and Finn ran to see who was downstairs. He buzzed the lobby door for whomever it was — probably the delivery guy. Santana didn't miss the glance between Rachel and Kurt, but her attention quickly returned to her daughter, who was crawling her way around the couch.

A knock at the door reminded her that she was actually quite hungry. "I'll get it," she said.

"Mmamaaa," Bella called as she saw her mother leaving.

"Don't worry, baby girl. I'll be right back!" Santana cooed, her smile bright.

As she opened the door, the smile dropped right off her face. Her heart started hammering. Was this some kind of cruel joke?

"W-what are you doing here?"

Santana's hand shook as she dialed her parents' home number. Kurt held tightly onto her other hand as the Latina struggled to control her breathing.

"Hello?"

"Hola mami," Santana said quietly.

"Santana!" Maribel Lopez squealed in delight. "Mija, so good to hear from you! How are you?"

"Um, I'm, uh, I'm okay," Santana struggled to get out. She switched to Spanish. "Mami, could you fetch Papi? I need to tell you both something."

"Santana, what's wrong?" Santana could hear the concern in her mother's voice, and her heart broke a little at the thought of her news rupturing their relationship. "Mija, are you and Brittany okay?"

Santana immediately choked back a sob.

"Mija, tell me what's wrong right now," Maribel said in rapid Spanish. "Your father is on his way."

"Mami," Santana cried, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. "She's gone. Brittany's gone."

"Ay cariño," Maribel said in sympathy. "What happened?"

"She l-left me to go on a s-stupid tour," Santana sobbed. "B-but Mami, th-that's not why I called."

"Santanita?" It was her father.

"Papi," Santana said softly, smiling. She was a total daddy's girl.

"Mija, what's this all about?"

Santana took a deep breath and looked at Kurt, who nodded encouragingly, his hand on hers never faltering.

"I'm pregnant."

Silence. Santana looked at the phone in her hand and shook it to check if it was still working.

"Mami? Papi?"

"Is this a joke?" her father asked, his voice low and angry.

Santana swallowed. "No. It was a stupid mistake, but it is what it is."

"How could you be so irresponsible, Santana?" he exploded. "After everything we taught you! You should know better!"

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. "I-I know. I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't possibly think about keeping it, Santana. You're 18! You can't raise a baby!"

Santana's cheeks grew hot. "Papi, I'm keeping my baby. I made a mistake, but my baby should not have to pay the price for it. I'm keeping it."

There was silence again for a while, and Santana could hear muffled voices as her parents discussed her situation.

"Santana."

"Sí, Papi?"

"Is this your decision?"

"It is," Santana confirmed.

"What about the father?"

Santana grimaced. "He's not in the picture."

"Please don't tell me you had a one-night stand and were stupid enough to not use protection."

"I-I don't remember," Santana stuttered. God, she sounded like a common slut.

"Were you raped?"

"I…I was drunk."

"This is unbelievable," her father raged, slipping back into Spanish. "I thought we raised a level-headed girl. I let you go to New York, because I thought I could trust you, and I knew Brittany would be with you. I thought you two would take care of each other."

Santana couldn't say anything. Her throat tightened, and she couldn't get any words out. It still hurt so much.

"Santana." Oh God. She hated this voice. It was the voice he used when he told patients bad news.

"Papi, please, I need your help," Santana whispered. She had never felt smaller than she did at that point. She was a proud person who almost never asked for help, yet here she was, begging her father.

"Santana, I can't help you with this. You have made your choice, and I am making mine."

Her heart broke again. Those words, almost a perfect replica of what her abuela had said to her the night she'd told her she was gay, cut deep.

"Papi, what are you saying?"

He sighed audibly. "I cannot support your decision to have this baby. I cannot stand by and allow you to throw your life away. If you want this baby, you will do it on your own."

"What?" Santana whispered.

"I am cutting you off, Santana. Maybe once you realize that you're too young to do this, you will reconsider my option."

"I…I can't, Papi." Though Santana was still in shock, her voice grew stronger as she spoke. "I refuse to kill or give up my baby. I am your only daughter, and you're cutting me off completely?"

"You have made your choice, and I have made mine."

Those words again. Santana burst into tears and dropped the phone, cradling her stomach and bending over.

Kurt's eyes went wide. He'd seen Santana break down when Brittany left, but this was a new kind of hurt. "Santana," he said softly. "We're still here. We're your family. You won't lose us."

Santana just shook her head and cried more loudly. Sobs wracked her body, and Kurt pulled her head onto his lap, stroking her hair soothingly. Santana was possibly the strongest person he'd ever met, and to see her reduced to this scared, helpless girl worried him. How was he supposed to help her? He didn't know the first thing about women's emotions — especially pregnant women's emotions. Hell, he didn't know anything about pregnancy!

"I want Brittany," Santana whispered.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as his heart jumped in his chest for his friend. A tear ran down his face. "We're here now," he said softly, continuing to stroke her hair. "No matter what happens, we're going to be there every step of the way with you through this."

"W-what am I going to do?" Santana asked in a small voice.

Kurt sighed. "Right now, we're going to wash your face, then go and get some ice cream."

"I don't want ice cream."

"What do you want?"

"Brittany."

Kurt sighed again. He knew a love like theirs couldn't just be erased because of stubborn words and a little distance. He knew that Brittany would know exactly what to do, but he was not about to make that call. As much as he loved the blonde dancer, he could not forgive her for leaving Santana without so much as a chance. She should have allowed Santana to help her make the decision instead of simply informing her girlfriend of a major life change.

"Santana, I know you miss her, and right now, I miss her a little too, because she would know exactly what to do. I'm not Brittany, but I'm here. I'm going to stay with you and help you in any way you need me to."

"Thanks," Santana mumbled, sniffing.

"Ugh, you'd better not stain these pants," Kurt teased, trying to lighten the mood. "They cost me a fortune."

Santana let out a broken laugh. "You're one of a kind." She sighed, pushing herself into a sitting position, then turned and gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Kurt."

He smiled back. "So, any cravings yet?"

She chuckled. "I really want breadsticks."

"I should've guessed," Kurt replied, shaking his head.

Santana stood, frozen in shock, at the front door.

"Hi," Kurt said, coming up behind her. "Thank you very much for coming. I know that this is probably really awkward, but we thought that it was time the air was cleared between you."

The Latina felt Rachel's hands on her shoulders, guiding her away from the door and towards the couch. The sound of Bella once again calling out "Mammaa" snapped Santana back to the present, and she picked up her waiting daughter.

After taking a deep breath, she looked up at her parents carefully. Her father looked a lot older than the last time she'd seen him, which had been over Christmas break freshman year. God, had two years already passed since then? Her mother sat quietly next to him, ever the subservient wife. When their eyes met, all Santana saw was sorrow.

Her father was the one who made the decisions in the Lopez household. Because she was his only daughter, he had doted on her and overlooked many of her faults, which was a big part of the reason why she had been such a rebellious teenager. Her mother was the perfect housewife, and Santana's relationship with Maribel had been good.

That was why her father's decision to cut her off had hurt so much. She had honestly thought that telling them about her pregnancy would have helped her situation. Instead, it'd only made things worse.

"You look good, mija," Maribel said softly.

"Mmaammmaaa," Bella murmured, palming Santana's breasts.

"Uh, I think she's hungry," Santana stammered nervously. "I'll just go and feed her quickly."

Santana stood up with Bella on her hip and paused when her mother stood too. She waited expectantly.

"Could I…come with you?" Maribel asked quietly.

Santana bit her lip, then nodded once and walked into her room. Her mother followed and closed the door behind her. Sitting down on her bed, Santana undid the first few buttons on her blouse, smiling at Bella's eager hands.

"Easy, baby girl," she chuckled. "I'm getting there."

Maribel stood by the door and just watched in awe as her daughter fed her daughter. Her granddaughter. Her first grandchild. She swallowed.

"She's beautiful, Santana." Her voice came out a lot less strong than she'd intended. "She looks like you."

Santana looked up and inclined her head towards her mother, indicating that she join her. Walking hesitantly over to the bed, Maribel sat down next to Santana.

"What's her name?" Maribel whispered, clenching her hand to stop from reaching out and brushing the dark locks on her granddaughter's head.

"Isabella," Santana replied. "Bella for short."

"Isabella," Maribel repeated in surprise. "After…after my mother?"

Santana nodded, meeting her eyes. "Regardless of how she reacted to me being gay, she was still a very big part of my life, and I owe a lot of who I am to her."

"You are a good person, Santana. So much better than me." Her mother started to cry softly.

"Why are you crying?" Santana asked curiously.

"Because I am a terrible mother," Maribel replied through her tears. "Mija, I wanted so badly to come and see you and be here for you when you were pregnant. I wanted to tell your father that we shouldn't have abandoned you. But…"

"I know how he is," Santana said softly. She sighed. "A phone call would've been nice, Mami. Anything, just something to tell me that you still cared." She looked back down at Bella, whose eyes were closed, happily sucking away.

"She's about seven months?" Maribel asked.

"Eight months today," Santana replied.

"Oh," Maribel breathed. "You've done a great job, mija. I'm so, so proud of you."

Santana's throat felt tight. "Are you?" she asked, her natural defenses springing up. "Or are you just saying that because you feel guilty about cutting off your only child and, by extension, your only grandchild?"

Maribel opened and closed her mouth. Her daughter's words weren't wrong. "Mija, I am so incredibly proud of you for carrying Bella and being so strong. I know that it can't be easy."

"No," Santana replied honestly, smiling down at her daughter, "but I believe everything happens for a reason, and now she's my whole world. I couldn't imagine my life without her."

Not wanting to pry, but also wanting to know everything, Maribel asked tentatively, "Do you have a good life here, mija? Are you doing okay?"

Santana sighed. "Honestly, Mami, it's hard. It's really hard. I hate being away from her, and I know that I'm so lucky to have Kurt and Rachel and Finn, because they help out all the time, but I think of what's going to happen when she has to go to school. What happens when she grows out of the clothes she has now? I'm getting by, but all of my savings went to paying the hospital when I delivered her." She shrugged. "So I'm starting from scratch, and my paychecks only go so far. My friends are happy to help, but—"

"But you want to be able to take care of your daughter yourself," Maribel knowingly finished for her. She smiled. "You are your father's daughter. So determined to do everything yourself."

At that moment, Bella bit down a little, and Santana winced.

"Is she starting to teeth?" Maribel asked.

"Yeah, she started about three weeks ago," Santana replied. "She's just starting to realize that they — ow! — can inflict damage."

Looking back down, Santana swore she saw a mischievous glint in her daughter's eyes, but brushed it off as her mind playing tricks on her. Bella yawned widely, showing the teeth that were only just starting to push through.

"Can I…?" Maribel asked quietly.

Santana looked at her mother, then sighed. "Mami…I know you have the best intentions at heart, but I don't want Bella to get used to you and then never see you again. Why did you and Papi come here?"

Maribel fiddled with her fingers. "Kurt called us about two weeks ago. He said that you've been sad and that we need to make things right with you."

"Really? Papi went along with that?"

"Well, that's what Kurt told me. I told your father that we received special preview tickets to Rachel Berry's new show."

"Unbelievable." Santana chuckled, allowing her daughter to grab her finger and suck on it. "What did he say when he found out it was a ploy?"

"He…wasn't happy, but I made him come and see you and our granddaughter."

"I'm glad you did," Santana said quietly.

"Me too, mija," Maribel said, placing a hand over the one Santana was using to brace herself on the bed.

"I missed you so much. I know that I wasn't at home, but I at least knew that I had a mom. That feeling of not having parents anymore…I hated it. I felt so empty."

Her mother nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "Mija, I want to be in your life again. I don't care what your father says. I won't let you go so easily this time. Besides the fact that I want to see my granddaughter grow up, I also want to be able to pick up the phone and call you and talk about nonsense for hours again."

Santana smiled. "I think I miss those calls the most out of everything. Just knowing that I could pick up the phone and call you was so comforting. And then, all of a sudden, I wasn't allowed to do that anymore."

"So…can I hold her now?" Maribel asked shyly.

Santana held Bella up to her face and gave her an eskimo kiss. "What do you say, baby girl? I want to introduce you to someone. She's my mama."

Bella's eyes recognized the word, and Santana motioned for Maribel to come and stand with her.

"Go say hi to your abuela, baby," Santana said softly, gently placing Bella in Maribel's arms.

"Hi," Maribel breathed. "Wow. You're so beautiful. Such a pretty girl. Just like your mama."

"Mmaamaaa," Bella repeated, looking at Santana.

"That's right, Bella baby." Smiling, Santana waved at her.

Bella clapped her hands and smiled up at Maribel.

"Thank you for this, mija. I can't tell you how much joy this brings me."

As Santana rested her head on her mother's shoulder, Bella smiled up at them both. The three generations stood in silence, just appreciating each other's company for a few quiet minutes until Bella squealed loudly, causing Maribel to jump a little.

Santana laughed. "She wants to be put down. She has far too much energy. At least she knows she needs to get rid of it before she can sleep."

She opened the door and walked into the living room, Maribel following with Bella still in her arms. Upon seeing the open space she loved to explore, Bella squealed again and started squirming in Maribel's arms.

"Okay, you little Energizer bunny," Santana chuckled, taking her daughter from her mother's arms. She caught her friends' curious gazes. "Guys, could you monitor her explorations? I think I need some time here."

"Sure," Rachel replied, making a silly face at Bella that caused the baby to smile widely.

With Rachel, Kurt, and Finn minding Bella, Santana sat on the couch again, this time with her mother sitting down next to her. "Hi Papi," she said softly, looking up at her father.

The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. "Nita," he said in a gruff voice laced with emotion. "You look tired."

"Lio," Maribel warned.

Santana smiled. "It's okay, Mami." She turned to focus her full attention on her father. "I am tired, Papi. Bella's been keeping me up pretty much since she was born, and I work during the day, so I sleep when I can, but it's not always enough."

"Lio, I think there's something we both need to say to Santana," Maribel said firmly, giving her husband a stern look.

Emilio Lopez let out a grunt, but his eyes softened when he saw his daughter cock her head in anticipation, her eyes holding nothing but longing.

"Mija," he started. He cleared his throat, then continued in Spanish. "Santanita, I was wrong. I was angry, and all I saw was you throwing away your future, everything you and we had worked so hard for." He paused. "But I miss you. I miss hearing your voice, your laugh, your teasing. I even miss you yelling at me."

Santana's face broke into a watery smile. "I miss you too, Papi," she replied in Spanish. "All I needed was your love and support. That's all I ever asked for."

"I know, and I am so sorry that it took me almost two years to get over myself. Can…can you forgive me? Forgive us? I need my little girl back."

Rising from the couch, Santana wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent. "I love you, Papi. Of course I forgive you. I have you now, and that's what's important. I missed you both so much."

Santana held out a hand in the direction of where her mother was still sitting and undoubtedly crying. As Maribel joined them, Santana wrapped an arm around each of her parents and let herself bask in the glowing relief and joy.

"Now what?" Santana asked as she pulled back, looking between her parents.

"Can I meet my granddaughter?" Emilio asked.

Santana grinned. "Of course."

Getting on her knees, she looked behind the couch to find her daughter crawling there, fascinated by the small frills at the bottom.

"Bella," she sang.

Her daughter immediately looked up and smiled, then squealed in delight as Santana picked her up, held her close, and nuzzled her neck.

"I have someone else for you to meet," Santana told her daughter. Emilio's face wore a mixture of fear and awe. "This is my papi. He's your abuelo."

"Mmaammaaa."

Santana chuckled. "So far, that's all her vocabulary consists of."

"Amazing," Emilio murmured. He tentatively reached a hand out towards Bella, who smiled at him and grabbed his finger, immediately putting it in her mouth.

"Bella's mouth, the world of discovery." Santana rolled her eyes and smiled.

"She's perfect," her father said softly. "Santana, you've done wonderfully."

His words warmed her insides. "Thanks, Papi." Praise from her father was a rare occurrence, so when she got it, she held onto it tightly.

"I'm…" His voice caught. "I'm—"

"We're," Maribel interrupted, placing her arm on her husband's leg, then nodding to him.

"Yes. We're both so proud of you."

Santana blinked back tears. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. Thank you."

Perfectly content, all the Lopezes sat together wearing huge smiles, the youngest with a finger in her mouth.