The march back to Shelby's classroom was silent, save for her daughter's soft cries. She ushered the pair in before her and then ordered them to the two desks in the front row that had a legal pad and pencil ready and waiting for them. She stopped and stood before them, arms crossed over her chest as they took their seats. Written on the white board behind her was the list of words she'd decided best encompassed the lesson she planned to teach.

Shelby cleared her throat and two sets of nervous eyes flicked up. "You two are so incredibly lucky I had already planned for excused absences from your last period classes. You'd have been facing serious trouble with the school otherwise. As it is, no one but me knows about your little deception."

Rachel choked back a sob as Jesse's face grew pale, and both teens ducked their heads in shame. Shelby wasn't having it. "Eyes on me. You will show me the proper respect when I'm speaking to you," she ordered. Two heads snapped back to attention and Shelby met each with a steely gaze.

"Now, while I plan to keep this a private matter between us—and yes, Jesse, I'm going to be telling your parents—that doesn't mean I'm taking this lightly. I intend to teach you this lesson only once. Learn it or the next time, you'll find yourselves off my team. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Ms. Corcoran," came the shaky replies from both teenagers. Shelby nodded.

"Good," she said. "Now—" Here she uncrossed her arms, sweeping her left behind to point at the board. "There's the list of words I want you to look up and define for me. You'll copy each word and definition out ten times. You should have them memorized by the end of this. You'll need it for a follow-up assignment."

Rachel and Jesse shared a panicked look at that last part, then turned their attention to the board. Written in Shelby's perfect handwriting were the words:

Forgery
Theft
Truancy
Disobedience
Deception
Insubordination
Deliberate
Integrity
Honesty
Responsibility
Respect
Patience
Humility
Teamwork

Rachel sniffled, swiping her hand across her face as guilt settled heavy inside her belly. She shot a quick glance over at her partner-in-crime and saw Jesse looking just as upset. She jumped and faced forward again when her mother appeared beside her, dropping a heavy Webster's Dictionary on her desk with a thud. Shelby tapped the cover of it with one gel-painted nail, arching an eyebrow as Rachel glanced up. The girl gulped and immediately lowered her gaze to the book, sliding it over so it could sit next to her yellow legal pad. She'd already picked up the blue ball-point pen and was thumbing through the dictionary in search of 'Forgery' when she heard an equally loud thump land three desks down atop Jesse's.

"Remember: I want each word and definition written out ten times in your best penmanship. There's no need to rush; we'll be here until our usual rehearsal time is over. Anything less than your best work will not be accepted. And finally, there will be no need for talking or looking at one another." Shelby leveled each child with one last parting glare, then rounded her desk and took a seat.

Shelby watched them work for the first few minutes, ensuring they were actually following directions, then turned her attention to the pile of test papers from her 12th Grade Honors English classes. She tried to lose herself in the repetitive work of correcting the tests, and it would have been easy enough if the only sounds in the room were those of pages turning and pens scratching, but those weren't the only sounds. Rachel's endless sniffles drew Shelby's attention each and every time and it was taking every ounce of self-restraint she had not to react to them. She wanted nothing more than to scoop Rachel up into her arms and hold her, but Shelby had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't Rachel's Mom right now. She was Ms. Corcoran: English Teacher. And as English teacher, Shelby wasn't swayed by her students' tears during detention.

Still, Rachel looked so little and lost sitting there with tears streaming down her face. Her pen danced across her paper as she copied out her definitions, her left hand constantly swiping across her face to clear her eyes. Shelby couldn't take it. Without a word, she stood and made her way around her desk, snagging the box of tissues on the end of it as she passed. Walking now to her child's desk, she set the box atop it. Wet brown eyes looked up and Shelby couldn't stop her hand from reaching out to rest on Rachel's shoulder, giving the girl the briefest of gentle squeezes before she turned away again.

oOo

It was nearly five o'clock by the time Shelby led two subdued teenagers out the front doors of Carmel High School. A single red truck sat in the drop off lane, and Shelby didn't miss the sharp intake of breath behind her as the driver opened his door and rounded the front of the cab. Tall and broad-shouldered, with chestnut waves flecked with gray, Patrick St. James was a gentle giant. Today, his usual kind eyes were hardened as he regarded his son. Shelby heard the boy swallow and gave a quick glance over her shoulder to see his already-pale face grow ashen.

"I would've driven him home, Pat," Shelby said as her friend and neighbor approached.

"I know, but I thought he'd given you enough grief for one day," Patrick said, his lips twitching up as he shared a knowing look with Shelby. Then his gaze fell on his boy's and his expression darkened. "Besides, he and I are due for a good long talk, aren't we, son?"

Jesse's face flushed crimson and he made a garbled sort of noise in answer to his father's question, followed by a hasty nod. Rachel gave her friend a sympathetic look and bumped shoulders with him in quiet support.

"Front and center, Jesse. You owe Ms. Corcoran a thank you for not turning this matter over to the school, and a heartfelt apology for everything else. And you can bet we'll be going over each and every one of your bad decisions and making sure you learn the right way to behave."

Even Rachel's stomach flipped at Mr. St. James' words and she gave Jesse one last look. "Good luck," she offered in an undertone. Jesse could only grimace in response before he hurried over to the spot his dad was pointing to.

"Ms. Corcoran, I'm really sorry for disobeying you and not respecting your rule about freshmen not being allowed at Funk Day," Jesse began, his voice higher than usual from nerves. His gaze never wavered, however, as he offered what he hoped was a decent apology. He meant every word of it, his stomach twisting in knots from guilt. He caught a glimpse of Rachel out of his peripheral and hastened to add, "And I'm sorry for my part in stealing your passes—I convinced Rachel to do it! She was against it but I pressured her into—"

"Don't listen to him, Mo—I mean, Ms. Corcoran!" Rachel was quick to interrupt. "I made the decision to steal the passes. And I'm the one who did the forging. Jesse didn't have anything to do with—"

Shelby held up her hand, silencing both teenagers with the simple gesture. "You are both equally culpable—deserving of blame," she corrected, tacking the definition on for good measure. What could she say? It was the English teacher in her.

Patrick cleared his throat and Jesse startled, blue eyes snapping up to his father's. Patrick only gave his son a pointed look, and Jesse got the idea. Turning his attention back to Shelby, he finished his little speech. "I'm sorry again, Ms. Corcoran. I promise you it won't happen again. And, uh…thank you for not getting the school involved. I know we could have gotten into a lot of trouble for what we did, so I appreciate you keeping it be–between us."

"Thank you for taking responsibility for your actions. I accept your apology, Jesse. And I hope for your sake it doesn't happen again. I'm serious when I tell you I will kick you off my team." Jesse nodded along mutely to Shelby's firm words, his eyes suspiciously bright. Shelby turned her attention to both teens as she continued. "Honestly, you're both lucky I'm not taking your solos away for this stunt. I should, but we don't have time to prepare anyone else in time for Sunday's competition. Make no mistake: there will be consequences coming from Coach Corcoran for this, I just haven't decided on the extent of them yet. But for now, I think we're done here."

"Thanks for everything, Shelby," Patrick said as he secured a gentle grip at the base of Jesse's neck. "And I'm sorry for this bonehead's part in today's trouble. He'll have consequences coming from his mom and me, enough that he won't be acting this way again—I can promise you that."

Shelby nodded, sharing a commiserating look with her friend. He gave her a parting salute as he turned with Jesse to head towards his truck. Shelby rolled her eyes, the ghost of a smile playing across her face. She waited until the truck began to pull away before turning to her daughter.

"So," she began, her tone light. "Bad day at school, huh?"

Rachel, who had just spent the last two hours in the presence of an angry, glaring Ms. Corcoran, was wholly unprepared for the arrival of loving and calm Shelby Corcoran—aka, Mom. The switch was jarring and Rachel was left with no other reasonable option—She burst into tears.

Shelby was quick to set her purse and leather tote bag on the ground, slipping Rachel's backpack off the girl's shoulders. Then she wrapped her child up in a warm embrace, holding her close the way she had wanted to all through detention. Rachel buried her head in the crook of Shelby's neck and sobbed her little heart out. It was enough to break the mother's heart.

"Aw, honey," Shelby cooed, rubbing soothing circles on her daughter's back. "Shh, shh, shh. C'mon now, everything is going to be okay, Rach. Let's go home, huh?"

"B–But you're mad!" Rachel wailed, her voice muffled against Shelby's blouse.

"Hush," Shelby quieted, now patting Rachel's back. She gave the girl one last squeeze and then stepped back, her hands moving to a tear-streaked face. She used the pads of her thumbs to brush some of them away, but more appeared to take their place. Shelby sighed and tilted Rachel's chin up instead. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. I'm disappointed in the choices you've made, and we will absolutely be having a lengthy discussion about all of those choices after dinner tonight. But for now, we go home and do the same things we always do. I'm sure you've got homework to finish, and I need to start dinner. We'll deal with the rest later."

Rachel's eyebrows drew together, forming a cute little point in the middle, and she stared at her mother as if she had two heads. The woman had gone from 60 to 0 in an instant and it was just as disconcerting as the other way around! "But you were so…scary, before. And now, you're—you're…" The girl huffed, flinging her arm out towards Shelby as if that conveyed everything. And maybe it did.

"Now, I'm Mom," Shelby finished for her. "I'm just Mom, baby." Rachel looked unconvinced, and Shelby couldn't even blame the poor girl. It was hard having to be three separate personas all rolled into one. And while Rachel was familiar enough with the divide between Coach and Mom, Teacher Shelby was an unknown variable. Of course her kid was reeling.

Shelby ran her hand down Rachel's arm in a soothing motion before she turned to pick up the girl's backpack. "Look, Rach," she began as her teenager shouldered her bag once again, "You know how when I'm annoyed or even angry during rehearsal, the moment we leave the building, I leave all of those feelings behind? It's the same thing here, bug." Shelby picked up her own things as well and jerked her head towards the car.

"But you're never mad at me when that h–happens, so of course you can leave those feelings behind!" Rachel cried even as she followed her mom across the parking lot. "But how can you go from royally pi—peeved—to—to acting like nothing happened?"

Shelby sighed as they reached the car, unlocking it with the push of a button. Rachel grimaced as she caught sight of her reflection in the tinted windows and quickly swiped at her face before clambering into the front seat.

"I'm not acting like nothing happened," Shelby said as she settled into the driver's seat. She turned and rummaged through the center console, pulling out a little packet of tissues. She handed them to her daughter as they buckled up. "I know and you know that lots of things happened. Lots of serious, illegal, and dishonest things. Things that you and I are going to talk about and come to an understanding on—" Here Rachel whimpered, her breathing growing ragged. Shelby reached over the console to squeeze her child's hand. "—but none of that changes the fact that you are my kid and I love you, Rachel Barbra Berry. I love you even when you choose to disobey me and flout every last shred of common sense I know you possess. I love you and nothing you could ever do will ever change that."

If Rachel was crying before, she was bawling now. She buried her face in her hands and let out a sob that rose up from the tortured depths of her very soul. "I love you t–t–too! And I am so, so s–sorry, Mommy!" she wailed.

Shelby didn't understand a word of that, but she could make a pretty good educated guess. "I know you're sorry, love," she soothed. "We're going to get through this, just like we always do. You'll see."

oOo

Rachel had all but cried herself out by the time they'd pulled into the driveway at home half an hour later, a fact that came as a great relief to Shelby. She'd been beginning to worry that her daughter had taken the song 'Cry Me A River' as a personal challenge and would surely shrivel up from dehydration! Shelby said as much to her teenager, and Rachel didn't find it nearly as funny as she did. But, Shelby didn't miss the tug of a smile on the girl's lips even as she rolled her eyes and huffed on her way out of the car.

Shelby followed her up to the front porch and then unlocked the door, letting Rachel go in before her. "Uh-uh, backpack in the kitchen, c'mon," she directed as Rachel was setting the bag in question down in the entranceway. Her daughter looked back at her questioningly and Shelby responded with a single raised eyebrow. "You have homework."

Rachel's brows furrowed and she made no move to pick up her bag. "Yeah, but I thought—Aren't you going to, um…punish me?" She could feel her cheeks grow warm as she squirmed under her mother's gaze. She knew, almost without a doubt, how her mom was going to 'punish' her and Rachel would rather get it out of the way. Her pirouetting stomach would certainly be thankful.

"You're due a spanking, yes," Shelby confirmed very matter-of-fact. Rachel looked equal parts embarrassed and accepting. "But we're going to have to wait until after we're done with dinner and showers before we get to that."

"What?! Why?!" Rachel balked. "Why do we have to wait? Why can't we just deal with it and—"

"Because we have other things that need to happen first," Shelby interjected. "I've got to start dinner so we can eat and you need to get your homework done—and all of it—so that it's out of the way for this weekend."

Rachel frowned. "But I can do it tomorrow. We're not doing the Saturday rehearsal, right? To give everyone a break before the competition?"

"We're not having a team rehearsal, right," Shelby answered. "But I still need you to get your work done now. You'll be glad for it later, now c'mon." She didn't wait for her daughter's answer, simply picked the girl's backpack up and headed into the kitchen.

"Mooom," Rachel whined even as she followed. "Please don't make me wait." She ended her request with a sullen huff and a foot stomp.

Shelby sighed, setting the girl's bag down in one of the chairs at the breakfast table, and turned to meet Rachel's pouty face. "I know it's not ideal to have to wait, but this is the reality right now. Like it or not, you chose a not-great-day to break nearly all of the rules I have for you. So, now you have to wait to face the consequences—and maybe that is a consequence in and of itself. If nothing else, it's forcing you to practice the patience I expected you to show this week. You can use this time to really think about the choices you've made and decide how you're going to avoid them in the future."

Rachel shifted unhappily at her mother's gentle scolding, her face growing hotter by the second. Unable to hold her mom's gaze any longer, Rachel slumped her shoulders in defeat. The familiar prickle of tears burned in the corners of her eyes and she heard a long, drawn out sigh. The next thing she knew, Shelby's arms were around her and a kiss was being placed on the top of her head. Rachel buried her face against the warmth of her mother and breathed in the woman's scent.

Shelby rubbed her daughter's back, feeling the muscles relax. She gave Rachel's head one last kiss and then pulled away to meet shiny eyes. "C'mon, kiddo. The sooner we get started on what needs to be done, the sooner we can get to everything else."

It was Rachel's turn to let out a big sigh but she nodded and shuffled over to the table all the same. Kicking out a chair, she plopped down and pulled her backpack towards her. Shelby waited until Rachel was situated and had started working on her assignment before she turned her attention to her own problem: dinner.

oOo

Dinner turned out to be a quick and easy vegetable fried rice with teriyaki chicken (she used a plant-based substitute for Rachel's). It was delicious but Rachel only picked at the food, too lost in her thoughts to have much of an appetite. She had completed all of her homework and her mom had been right: she was happy to have it out of the way. It had come with a price, however, as Rachel's dominant hand felt sore and cramped after all the writing she'd been forced to do this afternoon. She flexed it now, her gaze traveling to her mom to see if she was garnering any sympathy. Shelby's expression was more contemplative than sympathetic and Rachel's cheeks flushed pink as she looked away.

"Are you finished eating?" Shelby asked, breaking the silence. Rachel met her gaze again and Shelby could see the anxiety and guilt bubbling up inside of her. As much as she had tried to make dinner a calm, normal event, Rachel was just too keyed up and worried about what happened next to settle. Shelby couldn't really blame her.

"I'm not really that hungry," Rachel answered in little more than a whisper. She puffed out a little breath, her lips rolling inward as she lowered her eyes to the table.

Shelby mirrored her child's pout, reaching across the table to lay her hand over her daughter's. She squeezed gently, then patted it. "Let's clean up then. Dishes by hand tonight, I think," she directed. She planned on having their talk while they worked, hoping it might go a bit easier if Rachel had something to focus her restless energy on while it was happening.

Rachel sighed, but stood and helped clear the table, following her mom out of the dining room. She set her plates down on the kitchen island next to Shelby's and then turned to open the dishwasher to begin unloading it. Shelby took care of the leftovers, packing them away in containers and placing them in the fridge. She'd even scraped Rachel's unfinished dinner into a smaller one, in case the girl was hungry later.

By the time Rachel finished putting all of the clean dishes away, Shelby had stacked the dirty ones next to the sink and was now washing out the double basins so she could fill the right side with soapy water.

"You wash and I'll dry?" she proposed once everything was ready. Rachel nodded and switched places with Shelby, dipping her hands into the water and pulling out the first dish that needed scrubbing. Shelby waited until her child was focused on the task before she spoke again. "Alright, Rach," she started, her tone gentle. "Walk me through your thought process. Why'd you do it?"

Rachel wasn't prepared for that conversation to start—and certainly not this way—that she fumbled the plate she was washing back into the sink, dousing both her and Shelby in a spray of dishwater. She sputtered, using her forearm to wipe soap foam from her face, and then looked over at her mom with wide eyes.

"Let's keep the water in the sink, yeah?" Shelby teased, using the dish towel she'd only just pulled from the drawer to finish drying her daughter's face.

"S-Sorry," Rachel said, blushing.

"I didn't mean to surprise you with starting this conversation. But I thought we could talk while we worked—take some of the pressure off," Shelby explained.

Rachel offered her mom a small, genuine smile at the gift she was giving her. Not having to meet her mother's eyes during their pending 'conversation' would make things a heck of a lot easier for Rachel.

"Start at the beginning, kiddo," Shelby encouraged.

Rachel sighed and returned her attention back to the dish, scrubbing the surface in circular motions. 'Wax on, wax off,' she thought, then rolled her eyes at her own dorkiness.

"I just…wanted to be part of the Funk Day performance. I didn't want to miss out on something special…"

Shelby waited to see if her child would continue. When it was clear she wasn't, the mother stepped in. "Funk Day isn't for freshmen. I told you that, and I told you under no uncertain terms that you were not allowed to go—both as your coach and as your mother. And you disobeyed me in both roles there, kiddo."

Shelby's words weren't firm, simply matter-of-fact. Rachel winced anyway. "I know," she mumbled, her stomach heavy with that unmistakable wriggling feeling of being In (BIG) TroubleTM. "I…I really wanted to go though, and Jesse and I thought you were being unfair. We both worked really hard all year and we…we thought we had earned our spot with the team…I'm sorry we—I—disobeyed you."

Shelby narrowed her eyes as she regarded her child. A hundred different thoughts flashed through her mind, some of them downright angry. She took a steadying breath to calm herself, then said, "We had a conversation about this the other day. You and Jesse are not special, Rachel—" Brown eyes snapped up and Shelby didn't miss the spark of outrage that those words produced. "You are talented—very talented. And you do work hard. But so does everyone else on that team. And you weren't acting like a good teammate by blowing off the rules because you think those rules don't or shouldn't apply to you."

Rachel shifted uneasily from foot to foot, her ears pinkening at the stinging rebuke, and continued to scrub at the plate that was no doubt cleaner than it had ever been. She didn't dare meet her mother's eyes, but she could feel them boring into the side of her head.

"You ignored a lot of rules this week, buddy," Shelby went on in that same calm tone. "Why did you think it would ever be okay for you to steal teacher passes and then forge my signature? Did you even think about what would happen if you'd gotten caught by anyone besides me?"

"N–No. I didn't think we'd get caught," Rachel sniffled, finally setting the first dish aside in the empty basin and grabbing another. "We were so careful," she added in an undertone. Her mother apparently still heard.

"Careful? Careful!" Shelby echoed with growing frustration. "Rachel! You were the farthest thing from 'careful' there is! And the only reason you didn't get caught is because I already had a plan in place!"

Rachel winced and ducked her head as Shelby's voice grew more shrill with every word. "Mommy, I—I'm sorry!" she whimpered as tears welled and began to slowly meander down her cheeks.

Shelby sighed and reached out to run her hand down Rachel's arm in comfort. "I'm not sure you even know what to be sorry for here, kid. I know you weren't thinking about anything besides getting what you wanted—to be a part of Funk Day—but all of the choices you had to make to get there were pretty serious in their own right. And none of them are okay with me. Do you understand that?"

"Y-Yeah—Yes," Rachel corrected herself when she caught a glimpse of the seriousness on her mother's face.

"Yes, what? We're going to practice respectfulness for the rest of this conversation, I think. You need a reminder on how we are to treat everyone we come in contact with. Your actions this week haven't been respectful—not to me, or your team, and not to Mrs. Feld this afternoon."

"Yes, I…understand?" Rachel offered, uncertain.

Shelby softened at the confusion written all over her daughter's face. She wasn't a teacher right now and this wasn't a test; she gave her child the answer. "I'm looking for 'yes ma'am' here, honey."

"Oh! Um, ye—Yes, ma'am," Rachel squeaked, her face flaming.

Shelby nodded in approval, her hand moving to brush Rachel's hair back from her face. A small smile played on her lips as the girl leaned into her touch. "I love you, Rachel," she said warmly.

"I love you," Rachel whispered back, a lone tear trickling down her cheek.

"When did you steal my passes?" Shelby asked, wanting to keep the conversation moving. A thought occurred to her and she rushed to add, "They were my passes, weren't they? Please don't tell me you stole them from another teacher."

Rachel met her mother's eyes for only a moment before she hung her head in shame. "I…Yesterday when I came to your office."

Shelby's expression turned stern as she stared down at her daughter's bowed head. "I can see I'm going to have to make it a rule that you are not allowed in my office without me. You will have to earn my trust back, young lady."

The teenager wilted under her mother's disappointment. She couldn't even bring herself to continue washing the dish she now held limply in her hands. She just waited for her mom's next words. Shelby didn't keep her in suspense long.

Taking the plate from her daughter's hands, Shelby set it back in the soapy water. Then she turned the girl to face her, crooking a finger under Rachel's chin to tilt her head up. She met glassy brown eyes with a hard expression, not missing the flash of pain it caused. Shelby ignored it for the time being, steeling her heart as she spoke in the firmest tone yet. "Do we need to go over all of the reasons signing my name on any official school or legal document is wrong, or can we leave it at: it's a dumb decision at best and illegal at worst?"

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut at the hard tone, her shoulders rising all the way to her ears as if that would protect her from further reproach. "Yes, ma'am—I mean, no, ma'am! I mean…I know it's wrong and I never should've done it!"

"No, you shouldn't have," Shelby agreed, dropping her hand. "You made a choice that you knew was wrong and did it anyway. We've dealt with this before, but this time it wasn't a matter of getting caught up in the moment, was it? This decision was deliberate. You had plenty of time to choose the right decision and you ignored that to do exactly what you wanted. That is never going to be okay with me, Rachel Barbra."

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Rachel was reminded not only of her one-and-only spanking she'd gotten at the hands of her mother, but the last one she'd gotten from her daddy a year ago. That one, too, had been because she'd disobeyed her parents and gone and done what she wanted. She hung her head again.

"And finally, you skipped class and left school. How did you even get to McKinley? Did one of the older students agree to take you? I want names."

"N–No, Mom. It wasn't anyone…Jesse called an—an Uber. And we got another one b–back to school."

"Rachel!" Shelby hissed, making her child flinch. A million thoughts of what could have happened to the two young teens flashed through her mind. "Do you know how dangerous—" The mother stopped herself from continuing. It made her too angry and too terrified to voice those fears. "Never again, Rachel, do you hear me?"

"Y–Yes, ma'am. I won't—I promise." Rachel could hear the raw panic in her mother's voice and she hated that she was the one to put that there.

The fear and anger melted as quickly as it appeared when Rachel's tears started anew. Shelby let out a sigh and then pulled her child into her arms. Rachel buried her face and cried. Shelby gave her a moment before she pulled back again.

"Why don't you head on upstairs and hop in the shower, hmm? I'll finish down here and then be up by the time you're done."

"Do I have to?" Rachel asked, her voice shaky.

"Well I won't force you…but I think you'll feel better if you do," Shelby replied. "You might as well brush your teeth and do your moisturizing routine too."

Rachel's eyes widened and she couldn't help the affronted look that crossed her face. "Wha—But Mom! It's not even 7:30 yet!"

Shelby simply cocked her eyebrow and stared at her child, pursing her lips to hide her smirk. "And it will be 8 o'clock or near enough by the time we're ready to get to your spanking. Then it's bedtime." Her words made her daughter gasp and squirm.

"Mom," Rachel couldn't help but whine, "But I don't want to—"

"I'm not arguing with you, Rachel," Shelby said simply. "And as for what you 'want', you've been doing what you want all week. Now it's time for you to listen and do as you are told." Taking Rachel by the arm, she turned the girl to the side. Her hand cracked down across her daughter's skirt-clad backside, not overly hard but enough to make her point clear.

Rachel yelped and twisted her hips away from any further attention. "Okay! Okay, Mom, ow!" she whimpered.

"I think you mean 'yes, ma'am'," Shelby corrected, not unkindly.

"Yes, ma'am!" Rachel parroted, letting out a sigh of relief when she was released. Her hand snaked back to rub at the slight sting while her stomach swooped at the promise of what was to come.

"Go on now. I'll be up soon," Shelby said. Rachel mumbled one last 'Yes, ma'am' and hurried from the room.

oOo

Rachel lost herself in the soothing warmth of the shower, the pulsing jets of water working out the tightness in her neck and shoulders. She could have stayed in there forever and would have, if it wasn't for the sudden opening of the bathroom door.

"Okay, seriously, Rach, you gotta take it easy on my water bill, kid," Shelby's voice called out to her. "You've been in there thirty minutes already. It's time to get out!" Her mom sounded closer now. And sure enough, Shelby's hand appeared around the shower curtain, feeling for the valve to turn off the water.

"Mom!" Rachel shrieked a moment later as the curtain was swept back. Goosebumps prickled across her skin from the cold while her face burned with embarrassment. It was short-lived as Shelby wrapped her towel around her.

"Finish up in here—and don't take too long. I'm going to go change; I'll meet you in your room," her mother said, leaving as quickly as she had entered. Rachel waited until the door shut with an audible click before she unwrapped her towel and began to dry herself properly.

Ten minutes later, Rachel had a clean, moisturized face and minty-fresh teeth. She left the bathroom with her towel once more wrapped around her and headed for her bedroom at the end of the hall. She half-expected her mother to be already waiting for her and was relieved to find her room empty. Moving to her dresser, Rachel pulled out clean underwear and an oversized t-shirt. She didn't bother with pants; her mother was just going to take them down anyway.

Now that she had nothing left to do but wait, Rachel's entire body thrummed with nervous energy. She tried sitting quietly, perched on the very edge of her bed. That was no good—she needed to move. So she stood and began to pace, her ears straining to pick up any sound that would alert her to Shelby's approach.

Her thoughts turned again to her last (but also first) spanking from her mother. It hadn't been bad, all things considered. Sure, it stung—that was kind of (all of) The PointTM. But she'd survived and the pain hadn't lasted long. Rachel was under no illusion that the spanking she was going to get tonight would be as 'easy' as that first/last one. The things she was in trouble for today were a heck of a lot more serious. Her mom was more upset with her, too. Still, Rachel reasoned, it wouldn't be horrible. She'd go to bed with a stinging, pink backside…and hopefully, a lighter heart.

oOo

Shelby had changed into her pajamas and was now pacing her bedroom, listening out for the moment the bathroom door opened to let her know that Rachel was finally heading into her own room. It came and went and the mother sighed. She'd give her girl five more minutes.

She was ready to be done with all of this—the wait had been a punishment for her, too. But the extra time had been good for Rachel, who needed to learn patience and following directions even when she didn't like them. Shelby still hadn't gotten over her surprise at Rachel not listening to her. They'd never had a problem with that before, so it came as a complete and utter shock when Rachel took it to the extremes. Surely, there should have been smaller instances of her daughter testing her boundaries. She couldn't have tried ignoring the rule about bedtime or homework first?!

She let out a sigh as her mind wandered, recalling the conversation she'd had with her own mother several months ago now about Rachel being such an easy kid to parent. Her mom had laughed and reminded Shelby that even 'easy' kids got into trouble at times. Shelby had brushed it off. "Not my daughter," she'd determined.

Then the driveway drama had happened and Shelby had had to eat her own words. "I told you so, Shelby," Nancy Corcoran had gloated, much to Shelby's annoyance. Still, the entire cement hands situation had been funny even when it had happened, and Shelby was positive any possible future trouble Rachel found herself in would be in that same vein.

"It's okay if it's not, too, Shelly," her mom had told her. "No child is perfect."

Shelby had scoffed in mock outrage. "Um, I was."

"I seem to recall several memorable times you wound up over one of our knees, oh perfect child of mine," Nancy had teased.

"I think you're thinking of Kim. She was your wild child," Shelby had teased right back.

Her mom was right, she supposed. No child was perfect…even when their mother really, really, really wanted them to be.

Shelby groaned. She didn't want to have to spank her baby. It had been hard enough that last (first) time—and that had been a relatively minor spanking! She wouldn't be able to get away with that today, a fact that pained Shelby as much as it was going to Rachel.

Her pacing carried her towards her vanity and the black walnut hairbrush sitting atop it. She picked it up, feeling its weight. It was hefty—solid, with soft bristles that glided through hair like butter. She'd used this brush for Rachel's hair countless times now and never once considered using it for anything else. But Shelby was not unfamiliar with the other use of a hairbrush, having experienced its distinctive bite more times than she would care to admit in her own teenage years. Nancy Corcoran employed its use only rarely, but Shelby could recall each and every time she did with great clarity. Those were lessons branded so deeply in her memory that she would never, ever forget them. Rachel would benefit from a lesson like that…the only question now was: could Shelby actually give that to her child?

'She broke nearly all of the rules you have for her,' the mother reminded herself as she flipped the brush over. She traced her fingers along the smooth, flat back that was roughly the size of her own hand, then tapped it against her palm. "That child knows better and did it anyway," she added out loud. She tapped the brush more firmly, her mind made up.