That the Moon Elbowed the Stars 14/17
Title: That the Moon Elbowed the Stars
Chapter: 14/17
Rating: R
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 7,900
Summary: And maybe it's an awful thing to think, but he wonders what's worse for her, losing New York or losing her dad.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The Ohio State Cheerleading Championships are held at OSU, which means that Puck doesn't have any excuse to get out of going, even with finals the week after next.
Santana agrees to go with him and his mom pretty easily, and Puck knows that even though she didn't want to cheer in college, she misses it a little. "Sylvester's fucking crazy," she tells him when he asks her about it, "but she knows what she's doing. And I like to win."
He's pretty sure there's a little more to it than then, but whatever.
His mom shows up at the house on Saturday morning in a red and white tee shirt emblazoned with Cheerio Mom and a carload of food that Puck has to make three different trips to get in the house, and if he would have known that her coming up here would be like this, he would have been inviting her way more often over the last few years.
He puts on one of his old McKinley athletic tee shirts out of solidarity or whatever, and Santana's wearing a red v-neck tee shirt with her jeans when she comes out of her room with a set of poms that she hands to his mom. "They're fun," she offers with a shrug.
Puck can admit that he gets sucked into it a little bit, and it's different than it was back in high school. In high school, watching the cheerleaders meant watching the way their skirts spun away from their thighs when they moved. And that's still there, but there's also the fact that this is his baby sister and a bunch of her little friends, and none of the girls on this squad were there when Puck was still in high school.
They're actually really impressive, and definitely better than the teams they're competing against, so it isn't a surprise that they win.
The four of them go for dinner at Puck and Santana's favorite Mexican place in Columbus. ("Fuck the Cheerio diet," Abby says, earning a glare from her mother and a smirk from Santana.)
"How's Rachel?" his mom asks quietly when Santana and Abby are distracted, tearing apart one of the other team's routine
"She's good," he answers, and it isn't a lie. Like, she's stupidly busy and stressed and shit over the musical, and her finals are coming up, too. Hers are different though, because she only has one exam and the rest are performance-based. It is, however, a weird question for his mom to ask, because they just had this conversation a week ago when Puck got back from New York and called her to let her know he was home.
"She's okay with her father dating again?" she asks, her voice neutral enough that neither Abby nor Santana register that she's speaking about anything more interesting than the weather. It's kind of awesome how she can do that.
He shrugs. "She's trying to be."
"I still haven't heard anything about it," his mom says, and Puck just stares at her, because...so? "I worry about her, that's all."
"You can call her, you know," he reminds her, sort of playing it off, but really, he gets it. Fuck, Rachel's supposed to be the one who worries, but he can't help worrying about whether or not she's okay out there by herself. And yeah, Chang is around (and Puck's reminded him that he needs to be keeping an eye on her a couple of times), and he knows that Rachel can take care of herself. She can't even lie about it, because her voice does this weird pitchy thing when she lies that he's pretty sure she hasn't ever noticed before.
That line of conversation goes all to hell when Abby asks him something about straight skirts versus fly-away skirts - as if he gives a fuck - and she and Santana are both looking at him expectantly. They both roll their eyes when he tells them that he doesn't care (true), and drag his mom into this conversation that's so fucking stupid that he almost asks the waitress to bring him a beer or a shot of tequila or something so he doesn't have to listen to it sober.
He kind of hates it, and the only thing that could make him hate (love) it more is if Rachel was here with them.
*
The night that the musical opens is the culmination of weeks - months, really - of hard work, and the fact that the show goes off beautifully is the best kind of reward for all that work, and after the curtain call, Rachel even finds herself wrapped up in a hug with Maggie.
Dad comes in for opening night and to celebrate Hanukkah a bit early, and even though Rachel doesn't have a lot of free time, they manage to spend the next afternoon walking along Fifth Avenue to take in the window displays before going for tea at a little French-style cafe.
She takes a little sip of her peppermint tea, watching her father take a bite of his slice of chocolate mousse cake, then takes a deep breath. "Tell me about James," she says quietly, holding his gaze when he looks up at her.
James is a dermatologist who just opened a new practice in Lima. He shares a love of musical theater with her father, and the two of them went together to see a performance of Carousel done by the local community theater. He's something of a confirmed bachelor, though he raised his nephew, Cole, after his sister and her husband were killed in a car accident when the boy was six. He's teaching Dad about German beer, and they're planning to go see Singing in the Rain when it plays at the theater downtown.
"We're just friends," he says quietly, watching Rachel sip her tea. "I'm not ready to date anyone, not anywhere close, but it's nice not to be alone all the time."
Noah was right, and Rachel feels horribly guilty. She pitched a fit like a petulant child, and in the process, probably not only ruined her father's holiday, but the Puckermans' as well. The only thing that saved her from spending her own holiday alone was the fact that Noah took mercy on her and made the trip to the city. And all because she didn't want to take the time to listen to her father talk about his new friend, instead choosing to jump to conclusions about his relationship.
"He sounds lovely," she says honestly, because he does, and her father deserves to hear it.
"I think you'd like him."
She traces her finger around the rim of her teacup. "I'm sorry about Thanksgiving," she whispers. "That was selfish of me."
"Oh, angelfish," he sighs, and when she look up at him, his eyes are soft. "You don't need to apologize."
She has to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek when she nods, because he's wrong. She absolutely needs to apologize, and this is exactly the sort of thing that Daddy never would have let her get away with. He would have told her to stop being a brat and ordered her to get on that plane home, and he would have made quite sure that she understood that her behavior was unacceptable. God, he'd be so ashamed of her right now.
He hugs her just before he gets into the cab to head back to his hotel before heading to the airport, and Rachel finds herself wiping tears off her cheeks while she watches the car disappear around the corner at the end of the block.
Saturday night is their second-to-last show, and even though she's filled with energy when it's over, she declines going out with the rest of the cast. It doesn't matter how pumped she is from the performance, she knows that her body needs rest to recover so that her last show is stellar. She knows that the graduate showcase in May is designed to help students make contacts in the industry, but there are certainly directors and agents in the audience during these shows, and she isn't going to allow herself to appear anything less than perfect when she's on stage.
She changes into jeans and a sweater and takes off her makeup, pulling her hair up into a ponytail for the bus ride from campus back to her apartment, waving off Charlotte's pleading about 'just one drink!'
There are still people milling around outside the theater, people who, in just a few years, she's imagining will be waiting outside the stage door of a Broadway theater and hoping to snap a photo of Rachel Berry, or maybe to get her autograph.
She is, admittedly, a little caught up in her fantasy, which is why she's startled when she hears a woman call her first name. She turns in the direction of the voice, then freezes when she sees who it is.
Shelby Corcoran steps towards Rachel with her hands in the pockets of her knee-length dark wool coat. "You steal the show," she says when she gets close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice to be heard. "The lead. She's a good singer, but you outshine her."
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asks when she finds her voice. The compliments don't even really register. Nothing registers beyond the fact that this woman is standing in front of her. Here, at her school, in New York City. Her city.
"I've been keeping up with you," Shelby says, though it really isn't an answer. "I've seen all of your performances since you got to the city." Rachel doesn't say anything, because she doesn't know what to say. "I heard about your father," she says quietly. "I'm sorry. Andrew was--"
"Shut up," Rachel snaps, her voice harsh and too loud. Shelby doesn't get to talk about her daddy.
"I'm sorry," Shelby repeats simply, then she sighs quietly. "Rachel, can you please just hear me out?"
She wants to say no, wants to tell Shelby to go away, to go to hell, to leave her alone and never, ever come back.
But she can't say anything, and before she regains the ability to speak, Shelby is talking again.
"I know that I wasn't there for you before, when you thought you needed me, but I've thought about you every day since the day you were born. I'm in a different place now. I got married, and we live in Connecticut." She smiles, but it's a little sad. "I know we can't have the relationship that you wanted, Rachel, but I'd like a chance to get to know you."
Rachel starts shaking her head slowly. "I can't do this now," She could - and perhaps should - explain herself more, could point out that she has another show and then a week of finals to get through before she'll even have a chance to breathe.
Instead, she turns on her heel and starts to walk away, leaving Shelby standing there.
"Rachel, wait!" She keeps walking until Shelby catches her shoulder, and she only stops then because to physically wrench herself away from the woman seems extreme. Rachel is suddenly very, very tired. "Take this," Shelby says, holding out a business card. "If you change your mind."
Rachel nods tightly, then walks away quickly, her footfalls silent on the sidewalk though she can feel them reverberating through her entire body.
She pulls Shelby's card from her pocket when she's sitting on the bus. Her name is Shelby Morris now. She's apparently teaching at some school called Alderdale Academy in Hartford, and if the crest printed on the card is any indication, it's a fancy private school. Her contact information at the school is printed there, and written below is another number, a number that Rachel knows Shelby wants her to call.
Sometimes, Rachel wonders if the universe is conspiring against her, punishing her for something she doesn't even know she did, like the opposite of the song from The Sound of Music. She just feels like she's had more than her share of heartache involving parents, and it isn't fair. She has no idea what she's supposed to do about this, about Shelby wanting to get to know her. Rachel gave up on the idea of having a mother a long time ago - right about the time that Shelby made it very clear that she didn't want Rachel to be a part of her family and adopted a baby - and this just muddles things up again. She just lost a parent, a real parent, and now...she just doesn't know what to do
She stares at the card for a few blocks, not really seeing it, then tucks it into her wallet, burying it behind her old OSU student ID and a loyalty punch card from the cafe in Brooklyn where she stops every time she goes out to see Mike.
Instead of making herself a cup of chamomile tea and sipping it while she watches episodes of The Daily Show that are saved on her DVR when she gets home, she swallows a Tylenol PM and lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling until she sleep aid kicks in and turns her mind off.
*
Just before she steps out on stage on Sunday evening, Rachel wonders if Shelby is sitting out there in the audience, and she feels a rush of something hot and mean go all through her. She's going to think this every time she performs from now on, and how dare Shelby say that to her and get into her head like this. She pushes it aside and throws herself into her performance.
The show is flawless, of course, but then Rachel catches herself attempting to see past the lights out into the audience during the curtain call, and she's angry all over again.
But Rachel Berry can compartmentalize, and she has a wrap party to attend, at which there could very well be professional contacts who can help her jump start her career. She has a music history exam tomorrow, and a final performance for her character study class on Tuesday. She has a tap performance this week, and the culmination of her styles workshop, and she simply doesn't have the time to devote to thinking about the woman who gave birth to her.
She watches her face in the mirror as she removes her stage makeup and decides that she is going to take things as they come this week. She has a schedule for finals week, a plan of action, and she isn't going to stray from that plan or allow herself to be distracted. She's so, so close, and this isn't the time to take her eyes off the prize.
At the party at a bar in SoHo, Dr. Weaver introduces Rachel to Lorelai Warner, an agent who represents more than a few well-known Broadway stars. Rachel recognizes the opportunity before her.
"You're magnetic on stage," Lorelai comments, watching Rachel thoughtfully. "Dr. Weaver mentioned that you auditioned specifically for Lois, but I don't understand why you wouldn't want the lead."
Rachel knows that this is some sort of test. "I think I'm better suited to the role I played," she explains, giving the answer she's been giving since her audition. She can tell though, that Lorelai is looking for more. "I felt like my chances of being cast as the lead in the spring musical were better if I hadn't just played a lead. I suppose you could look at it as a strategic decision."
Lorelai looks at her appraisingly. "Smart," she says simply before taking a sip of her drink. "It was nice to meet you, Rachel."
It's absurd, but the conversation feels like a victory.
She won't let someone who couldn't be bothered with her for twenty-two years mess up what she's been working for for so long.
*
Her resolve doesn't falter until Friday, after she's finished all of her finals and doesn't have anything pressing occupying her mind. She's up early, out of habit, so she goes to a yoga class for a bit of stress relief.
By the end, when she's lying in savasana, tears are rolling down her cheeks, and she knows that she has to make the call if only because she can't live with the uncertainty. The not knowing, the what if--
That would be worse than being rejected again, even knowing how much that rejection hurt the first time around.
*
They meet in a Starbucks on the Upper West Side. (Rachel doesn't want Shelby in her own neighborhood, doesn't want to associate the woman with her home here.)
"What changed?" Rachel asks when they're both sitting with their drinks. She isn't at all interested in drinking her herbal tea, and she has her hands folded in her lap so she doesn't start picking at the little cardboard sleeve.
"Once I got the family I'd always imagined, I realized that I didn't have to sacrifice a relationship with you to have that," Shelby answers simply. Her hand comes up to brush her hair aside, and Rachel notices a sizable diamond on her left hand. "I grew up, Rachel."
She scoffs. "Weren't you supposed to do that before you adopted a child?" It's mean, but Shelby doesn't exactly inspire sweetness in her.
"Probably." There's a wry smile on her lips. "The picture I had in my head was a fantasy, Rachel. It's something I've always done, built these elaborate scenarios in my head only to have them smashed to bits, but I can't help it. But then I got Beth, and I met George and fell in love." Her expression softens. "We got a dog, and then he was transferred to Connecticut for work, and I got my house and my garden." She takes a little sip of her drink. "It was exactly how I pictured it. Perfect. And every single day, I still thought about you."
"Living in your fantasies must be genetic," Rachel says evenly. "What kind of dog do you have?"
"A cocker spaniel that Beth chose from a shelter in Cincinnati. Her name is Aurora."
"Sleeping Beauty?"
Shelby nods, smiling fondly. "Beth's favorite."
Rachel wonders if it's because Aurora is the one she looks the most like, the way that most little girl's favorite Disney princess is the one they most resemble. (Rachel's favorite is Belle.) Did Beth inherit Quinn's blonde, graceful looks, or does she take after her father? At five years old - and god, did all of that really happen only six years ago? - is she the chubby child that Quinn apparently was, however hard that is to picture?
"What do you want from me, Shelby?" It's the first time she's said the woman's name in years, and it feels strange on her tongue.
"To get to know you," she answers simply.
"I don't need a mother."
It just sort of slips out without her permission, but it's true. Once, she believed that she did need a mother, and that she needed Shelby to be that for her, but she knows better now. Her fathers have given her everything that she needs.
"I know that," Shelby says quietly, nodding her head. "I just want to know who you are as a person, Rachel."
Rachel realizes that she's picking at the sleeve on her cup; she doesn't know when she started doing that. "I have an appointment in midtown in an hour," she lies, giving herself an out, a very specific amount of time to have to sit here. "What do you want to know?"
*
Rachel keeps her meeting with Shelby to herself, even though she talks to both her dad and Noah later that day, though she doesn't quite know why.
Their conversation was superficial at best. She learned that Shelby teaches elementary music and is in charge of the children's choir, and she told Shelby about her time at NYU. They didn't discuss Beth or Shelby's husband or Rachel's father, and when Rachel talked about how she spent her summer, she didn't mention Noah's name at all.
It's all very strange, and she doesn't quite know what to make of any of it.
One morning, Rachel gets a call from Shelby when she's in a yoga class. (She finds that she's craving the relaxation that yoga gives her more and more lately, and without school, she's able to indulge that craving almost daily.) Shelby's message says that she's going to be in the city all afternoon doing Christmas shopping, and if Rachel's available, she'd love to meet her for dinner.
They make small talk, discussing traffic and tourists and how difficult it can be to find the perfect gift when you don't know someone well. (That bit seems a little too on-point for comfort, but Rachel ignores it.) Rachel has taken exactly two bites of her pasta when Shelby sets her fork down and looks across the table at her seriously.
"We're going to be in Ohio for Christmas, but we're having a party at our house on Saturday night with some family friends and work colleagues," she says carefully. "I'd like it if you'd consider coming."
Rachel's glad that she's already swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, because she thinks her throat might be closing up. "I don't--"
"I understand if you don't want to," Shelby interrupts. "You don't have to feel obligated at all, but the invitation is there, and you can certainly bring your boyfriend along. I'll text you the address and the other information."
They haven't discussed Rachel's romantic life, and it's interesting that Shelby assumes there's a boyfriend.
Shelby changes the subject then, talking about the holiday concert that the choir she's in charge of put on and how difficult it is to find good Jewish music for such a concert.
"Does Beth sing?" Rachel asks. It's the first time she's asked about the little girl.
Shelby smiles fondly. "She does. I suppose that makes sense, given who her parents are."
Too much. It's too much, and Rachel quickly changes the subject to an article she read in the Times about a disease that seems to be attacking cedar trees in the Northeastern United States. She knows she's being entirely transparent, but she can't find it in herself to care, and Shelby doesn't say anything about it, just following along with the line of conversation without any comment.
She thinks about Noah during her entire trip home, and by the time she gets off the subway, she's decided that she should tell him about all of this, about Shelby finding her on campus and the meetings that they've had. She doesn't know if she should go to this Christmas party, or even if she wants to, and she'd like to know what he thinks about all of it.
"I've been thinking about you all day," he says when he answers, his voice low. "You suck for not coming home."
"I wish I could," she breathes, curling her legs up beside her on the couch. "I miss you."
"Are you okay?" Puck asks. She sounds strange, sort of sad and wistful, and he hates it. He wants her to be happy like, all the time.
"It's just been a weird day," she answers. He can tell that she's lying.
"Rach."
She makes a noise that's almost a laugh. "It's nothing."
She can't tell him. Shelby is her problem, and if Rachel's going to be an adult, she needs to learn how to take care of her own problems. Besides, this would dredge up all sorts of other issues for Noah, issues about Quinn and his daughter and the boy that he was before he became the man that he is, and it isn't fair of her to ask him to deal with that when he doesn't actually have to.
"I almost bought some mistletoe today," she tells him, changing the subject. "Then I realized that the only person I want to kiss won't be here to appreciate it."
He makes a noise from the back of his throat. "Baby."
*
She decides to go to Shelby's party for a couple of reasons, the most important of which is that she wants to see what the woman's life is really like now that she 'has it all,' the things that she left Rachel behind to go get for herself.
It's a sick sort of curiosity, she knows, but it is what it is.
She asks Mike to go with her because she trusts him more than anyone else she knows in the city by far, and, to a certain extent, he understands the history there. He wasn't involved, but he saw what happened the last time that Shelby came into her life, even if he was observing from a distance.
"Are you sure you want to go to this thing?" he asks after she's told him everything that's happened in the last couple of weeks. She's sitting on the end of his bed with her legs crossed one over the other while he leans against the headboard, watching her.
"I feel like I have to," she tells him. "I need to know."
"Rachel, have you told your dad about this?" She shakes her head, and his expression hardens a little. "Have you told Puck?"
"It doesn't have anything to do with them. My dad will worry about me, and it'll bring up all that stuff for Noah. This is for me to deal with." She sighs quietly. "If you don't want to go with me, it's fine. I just didn't want to go alone."
Mike shakes his head at her. "I think it's a bad idea to keep this a secret," he tells her seriously, then huffs out a breath. "What am I supposed to wear to this thing?"
Mike borrows a car from one of his friends so they don't have to worry about the train schedule, and Rachel wears a deep blue wrap dress with long sleeves and a pair of nude colored heels.
Mike reaches across the center console to take her hand when they drive into Hartford. "We can go back whenever you want, Rach."
She nods, but she doesn't say anything. She's been second-guessing her decision to come here since the moment she made it, but she isn't going to be able to live with herself if she doesn't follow through. It's something like a catch-22.
Mike lets out a low whistle when he turns into the cobblestone driveway the GPS directed him to. "What does her husband do?" he asks, looking up at the enormous two-story house.
"I don't know," Rachel answers, realizing for the first time that she never bothered to ask and Shelby didn't volunteer the information. The roof is outlined in white twinkle lights, and she can see an enormous Christmas tree framed in a bay window to the right of the front door. Rachel catches sight of a menorah silhouetted in another window, unlit because Hanukkah ended a week ago.
Shelby smiles when she opens the door. "I'm glad you decided to come, Rachel."
It isn't as awkward as Rachel had feared. She and Mike are a bit young for the crowd, maybe, but no one behaves that way. She knows that Shelby assumes that Mike is her boyfriend, but she isn't interested in correcting the woman. They meet George, Shelby's husband, and learn that he works in management at a national software company. Rachel sips a glass of champagne and has a conversation with one of Shelby's teacher friends about some of the shows that are currently on Broadway, though she doesn't question why Rachel is so knowledgeable. (Or who the hell she is, for that matter, and Rachel wonders if anyone here has been filled in on the particulars of her relationship to Shelby.)
Coming back from the restroom, Rachel nearly walks right into a little blonde girl in a puffy purple dress who's dancing near the Christmas tree. Beth.
"Hi," Rachel greets quietly. "I like your dress."
"Thank you," Beth says sweetly. "Purple is my favorite color."
"I like it, too."
Beth peers at her. "Who are you?"
I'm the daughter your mother had before you, the one she didn't want. The one you replaced. "I'm Rachel. And you're Beth?"
"How did you know that?"
Rachel smiles. "I'm a good guesser."
"My daddy tells me that I shouldn't guess when I do my homework," Beth says seriously.
Rachel feels her heart break a little. There are so many implications in that sentence for her. Too many. "That's good advice," she manages. "It was nice to meet you, Beth," she says quickly before walking away to find Mike. It's time to go, right now.
He doesn't say anything until they're on the highway heading back towards the city. "Are you all right?"
No. "I'm fine."
They're both quiet on the drive back into the city. Rachel starts counting the mile markers, noting which ones are missing along the way, all an effort to keep herself from thinking too seriously about what they just saw. If she thinks about it too much, she's going to cry, and she's determined not to do that until she's alone. (She doesn't want to worry Mike any more than she already has.)
The tears begin when she's in the elevator, and even though she's doing her best to ignore them, they don't seem to want to stop. Through her entire bedtime routine - from changing her clothes to checking the locks on the door before she turns off all the lights - silent tears slip down her cheeks.
She reaches for her phone in the dark and dials Noah without really even thinking about it. She doesn't want to be alone right now, and Noah has become the person she calls. For nearly everything.
He sounds tired when he answers. "I'm sorry I woke you up,"
"'S'okay," he mumbles. "'S'goin' on?"
"I had a weird dream," she lies. She wants to talk to him, but she doesn't want to burden him with all of this. She doesn't really want to lie either, but it seems the lesser of two evils. "Now I can't get back to sleep."
"You wanna tell me about it?" he offers. When she was little, Abby sometimes had these really bizarre dreams, like the one about flamingos pecking off her toes, and sometimes she would come crawl into bed with Puck and tell him about them. Talking about them sort of highlighted the fact that they were weird instead of scary so she could fall asleep again, and then Puck would carry her back to her own bed.
"I don't really remember anything. It was just strange, you know?" Noah makes a noise that she assumes is an agreement. "I wish you were here."
"Me too, baby."
"Tell me something silly," Rachel requests. She's too far inside her own head, and Noah's always been good at distracting her with the most absurd things. This thing she does where she calls him when she can't sleep is far from new.
He tells her about the Mario Kart tournament he and Abby have set up for winter break. There are elaborate rules, because it involves each course and each character. As absurd as it is, it sounds like a lot of fun, and it pulls her out of her own thoughts enough that she feels like she'll actually be able to sleep if she hangs up the phone.
"You're sure?" he asks when she tells him that. She still sounds weird.
"I'm sure," she confirms. "Thank you. For being so good to me." He's been so good to her for so long, and sometimes she thinks that she's taking it for granted. Today especially, she doesn't feel like she deserves to have him. (Insomuch as she has him.)
"Baby." Puck kind of loves it when she gets all sentimental, even though she's worrying him a little right now. "You deserve it. Fuck, you deserve better than me."
"No," she whispers. She doesn't deserve him at all. "Good night, Noah."
*
Puck's spending winter break doing a whole lot of nothing in Lima, mostly because his mom wanted him there. She's convinced that he's going to move halfway across the country after he graduates (she's probably right), and she's trying to keep him close while she can. His days are full of sleeping in, his mom's food, and ignoring Abby's bullshit.
He's fucking around on Facebook when he sees that Rachel's been tagged in a new photo. He looks because he has nothing else going on. She's standing in front of a huge ass Christmas tree in a blue dress, talking to a little girl with blonde curls. The photo was taken, apparently, by someone named Shelby Morris.
The girl is tagged as Beth.
Rachel's just walking out of Starbucks when her phone rings. She takes a second to wrap her scarf around her neck before answering. "Hi, Noah!"
"You've been talking to Shelby," he states flatly.
Rachel's steps falter, and she's glad that there isn't anyone walking behind her. "I--yes."
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He's pissed the fuck off, though he doesn't know what about, exactly. Jesus, this girl will call to tell him about so-and-so's performance in some fucking singing class, but she doesn't tell him that she's been talking her her estranged birth mother, the woman who adopted his daughter? Is this why she sounded so weird on the phone last night? "There are pictures of you with her on Facebook, Rachel."
She doesn't know what he's talking about, but that doesn't seem important. "Because it didn't have anything to do with you," she answers honestly, pressing her lips together when he scoffs. "She found me performing at school. We've seen one another a couple of times since then, and she invited me to a Christmas party last night."
"And it didn't have anything to do with me." He fixates on that, even as he gets the confirmation, to his mind, that her 'weird dream' last night was a lie and she was really freaked out about being at this fucking party.
His voice is so hateful that it physically hurts her. "It was all about Shelby and about me, Noah. It wasn't about her at all." To say Beth's name feels like crossing a line, so she doesn't. She knows that he knows who she means.
"Until you were posing for pictures with her."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she insists, and however good an actress she is, Puck can tell that it's the truth. "I met her last night at that party, and if someone took a picture, I didn't know it."
"That isn't the fucking point," he snaps. "So this is why you called me last night, to freak the fuck out about all of this, but lie about it instead of actually telling me what the fuck was going on."
"Please stop swearing at me," she pleads. She's still carrying her gingerbread soy latte, but she isn't interested in drinking it at all any more, not when Noah is so angry with her. He's never been this angry with her. "I didn't want to drag all of that out for you again, not when it didn't have to happen."
He hears that he isn't as important a part of her life as she is in his when she says that, because if the situation was reversed, Rachel is the first person he would have told. If Shelby found him, offering him a relationship with his daughter, he would have told her everything because she deserves to know and she's tough enough to handle it, not to mention the fact that he doesn't tell anyone else as much as he tells her. Fuck, he tells her fucking everything. So either she doesn't care about him the same way that he cares about her, or she just thinks he isn't strong enough to deal. Either way, fuck her.
"You should've told me, and you sure as fuck shouldn't have lied about it."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"I can't talk to you," Puck realizes. If she doesn't care enough about him to tell him this... "I don't want to talk to you about this or anything else."
"Noah--"
He hangs up before she can say anything else, jerking the battery out of the back of his phone so he doesn't have to listen to it ring when she tries to call him back. He kind of hates her right now, and if he has to talk to her, he's going to say something really fucking mean, the kind of thing he hasn't said to her in years. He thought he knew all the worst of Rachel. She can be selfish and self-involved, and she worries too much about what other people think, but he never knew that she was a fucking liar. In fact, she's always been the honest-to-a-fault type, so finding out that it's this easy for her to lie to him about this - it's like a kick in the nads.
He feels like he doesn't know her at all.
And maybe she didn't think that he needed to know that she was seeing Shelby, but it isn't just about Shelby when it's about Shelby, and Rachel fucking knows that. She says that she was trying not to hurt him or whatever, but she had to know that he was going to find all of this out eventually. Jesus, at some point, wasn't she going to tell him that she was talking to her mom again?
It's like a mindfuck and a half.
*
After three days of not being able to get a hold of Noah at all, Rachel starts to panic. At first, his phone was off, she knows, but then he started ignoring her calls, sending her to voice mail after two or three rings, and she didn't bother leaving messages that she knows he won't listen to.
Wednesday night, she decides to call Marlene. She's sure it's against some code, calling his mother, but she's worried about him.
"Oh, Rachel," Marlene sighs after Rachel's explained what happened. "You don't give him enough credit."
"What?"
"Giving up that baby hurt him more than anything he's ever done to himself or had done to him, but he knows that it was the right thing. If he couldn't handle the idea that your mother has that little girl, he just wouldn't have anything to do with you," Marlene says flatly. It stings. "But you not telling him that you were seeing her is a lie to him, and he hate liars. His father was a liar."
"How do I fix it?"
"I don't know, sweetheart, but you're going to have to give him time."
It isn't so much that Marlene tells her anything that she didn't already know on some level, but more that Rachel hadn't thought about it this way before. And in a lot of ways, the worst part is that she knows that she's finished with Shelby. She doesn't need the woman. She may have completely jeopardized her relationship with Noah for this woman who's done nothing for Rachel beyond giving her not-terrible genes.
Hearing that there isn't anything she can do makes it all that much harder. Rachel is an action girl, not a sit-and-wait girl.
"I love him," she admits quietly to Marlene. It just sort of slips out, but it's absolutely the truth. He's her best friend, and she's been falling in love with him for years. Maybe she shouldn't be saying it to his mother before she's even considered saying it to him, but now it's out there.
"I know you do," Marlene murmurs. Rachel knows that it changes nothing.
*
Rachel waits two weeks to call him again, hoping that the time and the space will make him more inclined to listen to her this time around.
"Can you please just hear me out?" she asks when he answers. She's had two weeks to do nothing but think about what she wanted to say to him, and she really wants to be sure that he hears it all.
"Rachel--"
"Please?"
Puck sighs. He's kind of surprised that he hasn't heard from her before now. The girl's so stubborn that he figured her for the type who wouldn't let you forget that you needed to forgive her. But he also knows that she called his mom, so maybe she actually took the advice he knows his mom gave her, whether Rachel asked for it or not. "Yeah," he finally sighs. "Okay." He hears her take a deep breath.
"I'm used to handling things on my own, Noah, especially where Shelby is concerned. Back in high school, I didn't even mention her name to my fathers until after she told me that she wanted a family that didn't include me." It's one of the many things in her life that she would go back and change if she could, because as much as she worried about hurting her dads' feelings back then, it would have been infinitely easier to deal with all of it if they'd been there.
Thinking about that right now is something like irony. She wishes she'd learned her lesson the first time around.
"I wanted to tell you about all of it," she admits. "The second time I met with her, when she invited me to that party. And then I called you, and I couldn't, because I didn't want you to feel anything like the way that I felt then." She sighs softly, retroactively annoyed with herself for being so stupid. "I thought that I needed to grow up and deal with it myself."
Fucking flawed logic there, but Puck can see what she means.
"I'm sorry I lied," she finishes, whispering. "I just...I love you, and I didn't mean to hurt you." Noah is quiet for a long time, so long that she finally says, "Please say something."
He's kind of reeling from the fact that she just said she loves him. It's just about the worst time ever to hear that, even from her. "Rachel...fuck, I get it," he says, "but that doesn't make it okay. It doesn't just disappear."
"I know."
"I don't think you do," he argues. If she understood, she would never have chosen right now to tell him she loves him. That's the same shit he remembers his dad saying to his mom, things Puck could hear through the walls when they fought back before the guy left. "I can't just like--" He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, because he hates this shit, and he doesn't know how to do it. "We need some distance."
"We live six hundred miles apart." She says it without thinking.
"Rachel."
"I guess I don't know what that means," she concedes.
Puck scrubs his hand over his head, moves the phone away from his mouth, and blows out a breath. If she could keep something this huge from him - lie to him about it - what does that say about them? And she isn't totally wrong, because it does make him think about Beth, but it also makes him think about what lying did to his mom when his dad was doing it. Fuck, it feels an awful lot like she just doesn't trust him, but in the next breath, she's saying she loves him. (He's stuck on that.) "I need to like, not talk to you for a while."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Rachel's chest feels heavy, and she can already tell that she's going to cry. "This feels remarkably similar to a breakup, considering that we aren't in a relationship."
Puck doesn't say anything. All things considered, they basically are, and they'd definitely be together if they weren't living in different states, but now isn't the time to point that out.
"Will you let me know when you're ready to forgive me?" she whispers.
She's kind of breaking his heart with that. It isn't about forgiving her - because he does get why she did what she did - but he doesn't really know how to explain what it is about. "Yeah."
"Okay then." She take a deep breath and steels herself. "Goodbye, Noah."
She hangs up the phone before he can say anything, not because she's angry, but because she doesn't want him to hear her fall apart.
Chapter: 14/17
Rating: R
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 7,900
Summary: And maybe it's an awful thing to think, but he wonders what's worse for her, losing New York or losing her dad.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The Ohio State Cheerleading Championships are held at OSU, which means that Puck doesn't have any excuse to get out of going, even with finals the week after next.
Santana agrees to go with him and his mom pretty easily, and Puck knows that even though she didn't want to cheer in college, she misses it a little. "Sylvester's fucking crazy," she tells him when he asks her about it, "but she knows what she's doing. And I like to win."
He's pretty sure there's a little more to it than then, but whatever.
His mom shows up at the house on Saturday morning in a red and white tee shirt emblazoned with Cheerio Mom and a carload of food that Puck has to make three different trips to get in the house, and if he would have known that her coming up here would be like this, he would have been inviting her way more often over the last few years.
He puts on one of his old McKinley athletic tee shirts out of solidarity or whatever, and Santana's wearing a red v-neck tee shirt with her jeans when she comes out of her room with a set of poms that she hands to his mom. "They're fun," she offers with a shrug.
Puck can admit that he gets sucked into it a little bit, and it's different than it was back in high school. In high school, watching the cheerleaders meant watching the way their skirts spun away from their thighs when they moved. And that's still there, but there's also the fact that this is his baby sister and a bunch of her little friends, and none of the girls on this squad were there when Puck was still in high school.
They're actually really impressive, and definitely better than the teams they're competing against, so it isn't a surprise that they win.
The four of them go for dinner at Puck and Santana's favorite Mexican place in Columbus. ("Fuck the Cheerio diet," Abby says, earning a glare from her mother and a smirk from Santana.)
"How's Rachel?" his mom asks quietly when Santana and Abby are distracted, tearing apart one of the other team's routine
"She's good," he answers, and it isn't a lie. Like, she's stupidly busy and stressed and shit over the musical, and her finals are coming up, too. Hers are different though, because she only has one exam and the rest are performance-based. It is, however, a weird question for his mom to ask, because they just had this conversation a week ago when Puck got back from New York and called her to let her know he was home.
"She's okay with her father dating again?" she asks, her voice neutral enough that neither Abby nor Santana register that she's speaking about anything more interesting than the weather. It's kind of awesome how she can do that.
He shrugs. "She's trying to be."
"I still haven't heard anything about it," his mom says, and Puck just stares at her, because...so? "I worry about her, that's all."
"You can call her, you know," he reminds her, sort of playing it off, but really, he gets it. Fuck, Rachel's supposed to be the one who worries, but he can't help worrying about whether or not she's okay out there by herself. And yeah, Chang is around (and Puck's reminded him that he needs to be keeping an eye on her a couple of times), and he knows that Rachel can take care of herself. She can't even lie about it, because her voice does this weird pitchy thing when she lies that he's pretty sure she hasn't ever noticed before.
That line of conversation goes all to hell when Abby asks him something about straight skirts versus fly-away skirts - as if he gives a fuck - and she and Santana are both looking at him expectantly. They both roll their eyes when he tells them that he doesn't care (true), and drag his mom into this conversation that's so fucking stupid that he almost asks the waitress to bring him a beer or a shot of tequila or something so he doesn't have to listen to it sober.
He kind of hates it, and the only thing that could make him hate (love) it more is if Rachel was here with them.
*
The night that the musical opens is the culmination of weeks - months, really - of hard work, and the fact that the show goes off beautifully is the best kind of reward for all that work, and after the curtain call, Rachel even finds herself wrapped up in a hug with Maggie.
Dad comes in for opening night and to celebrate Hanukkah a bit early, and even though Rachel doesn't have a lot of free time, they manage to spend the next afternoon walking along Fifth Avenue to take in the window displays before going for tea at a little French-style cafe.
She takes a little sip of her peppermint tea, watching her father take a bite of his slice of chocolate mousse cake, then takes a deep breath. "Tell me about James," she says quietly, holding his gaze when he looks up at her.
James is a dermatologist who just opened a new practice in Lima. He shares a love of musical theater with her father, and the two of them went together to see a performance of Carousel done by the local community theater. He's something of a confirmed bachelor, though he raised his nephew, Cole, after his sister and her husband were killed in a car accident when the boy was six. He's teaching Dad about German beer, and they're planning to go see Singing in the Rain when it plays at the theater downtown.
"We're just friends," he says quietly, watching Rachel sip her tea. "I'm not ready to date anyone, not anywhere close, but it's nice not to be alone all the time."
Noah was right, and Rachel feels horribly guilty. She pitched a fit like a petulant child, and in the process, probably not only ruined her father's holiday, but the Puckermans' as well. The only thing that saved her from spending her own holiday alone was the fact that Noah took mercy on her and made the trip to the city. And all because she didn't want to take the time to listen to her father talk about his new friend, instead choosing to jump to conclusions about his relationship.
"He sounds lovely," she says honestly, because he does, and her father deserves to hear it.
"I think you'd like him."
She traces her finger around the rim of her teacup. "I'm sorry about Thanksgiving," she whispers. "That was selfish of me."
"Oh, angelfish," he sighs, and when she look up at him, his eyes are soft. "You don't need to apologize."
She has to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek when she nods, because he's wrong. She absolutely needs to apologize, and this is exactly the sort of thing that Daddy never would have let her get away with. He would have told her to stop being a brat and ordered her to get on that plane home, and he would have made quite sure that she understood that her behavior was unacceptable. God, he'd be so ashamed of her right now.
He hugs her just before he gets into the cab to head back to his hotel before heading to the airport, and Rachel finds herself wiping tears off her cheeks while she watches the car disappear around the corner at the end of the block.
Saturday night is their second-to-last show, and even though she's filled with energy when it's over, she declines going out with the rest of the cast. It doesn't matter how pumped she is from the performance, she knows that her body needs rest to recover so that her last show is stellar. She knows that the graduate showcase in May is designed to help students make contacts in the industry, but there are certainly directors and agents in the audience during these shows, and she isn't going to allow herself to appear anything less than perfect when she's on stage.
She changes into jeans and a sweater and takes off her makeup, pulling her hair up into a ponytail for the bus ride from campus back to her apartment, waving off Charlotte's pleading about 'just one drink!'
There are still people milling around outside the theater, people who, in just a few years, she's imagining will be waiting outside the stage door of a Broadway theater and hoping to snap a photo of Rachel Berry, or maybe to get her autograph.
She is, admittedly, a little caught up in her fantasy, which is why she's startled when she hears a woman call her first name. She turns in the direction of the voice, then freezes when she sees who it is.
Shelby Corcoran steps towards Rachel with her hands in the pockets of her knee-length dark wool coat. "You steal the show," she says when she gets close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice to be heard. "The lead. She's a good singer, but you outshine her."
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asks when she finds her voice. The compliments don't even really register. Nothing registers beyond the fact that this woman is standing in front of her. Here, at her school, in New York City. Her city.
"I've been keeping up with you," Shelby says, though it really isn't an answer. "I've seen all of your performances since you got to the city." Rachel doesn't say anything, because she doesn't know what to say. "I heard about your father," she says quietly. "I'm sorry. Andrew was--"
"Shut up," Rachel snaps, her voice harsh and too loud. Shelby doesn't get to talk about her daddy.
"I'm sorry," Shelby repeats simply, then she sighs quietly. "Rachel, can you please just hear me out?"
She wants to say no, wants to tell Shelby to go away, to go to hell, to leave her alone and never, ever come back.
But she can't say anything, and before she regains the ability to speak, Shelby is talking again.
"I know that I wasn't there for you before, when you thought you needed me, but I've thought about you every day since the day you were born. I'm in a different place now. I got married, and we live in Connecticut." She smiles, but it's a little sad. "I know we can't have the relationship that you wanted, Rachel, but I'd like a chance to get to know you."
Rachel starts shaking her head slowly. "I can't do this now," She could - and perhaps should - explain herself more, could point out that she has another show and then a week of finals to get through before she'll even have a chance to breathe.
Instead, she turns on her heel and starts to walk away, leaving Shelby standing there.
"Rachel, wait!" She keeps walking until Shelby catches her shoulder, and she only stops then because to physically wrench herself away from the woman seems extreme. Rachel is suddenly very, very tired. "Take this," Shelby says, holding out a business card. "If you change your mind."
Rachel nods tightly, then walks away quickly, her footfalls silent on the sidewalk though she can feel them reverberating through her entire body.
She pulls Shelby's card from her pocket when she's sitting on the bus. Her name is Shelby Morris now. She's apparently teaching at some school called Alderdale Academy in Hartford, and if the crest printed on the card is any indication, it's a fancy private school. Her contact information at the school is printed there, and written below is another number, a number that Rachel knows Shelby wants her to call.
Sometimes, Rachel wonders if the universe is conspiring against her, punishing her for something she doesn't even know she did, like the opposite of the song from The Sound of Music. She just feels like she's had more than her share of heartache involving parents, and it isn't fair. She has no idea what she's supposed to do about this, about Shelby wanting to get to know her. Rachel gave up on the idea of having a mother a long time ago - right about the time that Shelby made it very clear that she didn't want Rachel to be a part of her family and adopted a baby - and this just muddles things up again. She just lost a parent, a real parent, and now...she just doesn't know what to do
She stares at the card for a few blocks, not really seeing it, then tucks it into her wallet, burying it behind her old OSU student ID and a loyalty punch card from the cafe in Brooklyn where she stops every time she goes out to see Mike.
Instead of making herself a cup of chamomile tea and sipping it while she watches episodes of The Daily Show that are saved on her DVR when she gets home, she swallows a Tylenol PM and lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling until she sleep aid kicks in and turns her mind off.
*
Just before she steps out on stage on Sunday evening, Rachel wonders if Shelby is sitting out there in the audience, and she feels a rush of something hot and mean go all through her. She's going to think this every time she performs from now on, and how dare Shelby say that to her and get into her head like this. She pushes it aside and throws herself into her performance.
The show is flawless, of course, but then Rachel catches herself attempting to see past the lights out into the audience during the curtain call, and she's angry all over again.
But Rachel Berry can compartmentalize, and she has a wrap party to attend, at which there could very well be professional contacts who can help her jump start her career. She has a music history exam tomorrow, and a final performance for her character study class on Tuesday. She has a tap performance this week, and the culmination of her styles workshop, and she simply doesn't have the time to devote to thinking about the woman who gave birth to her.
She watches her face in the mirror as she removes her stage makeup and decides that she is going to take things as they come this week. She has a schedule for finals week, a plan of action, and she isn't going to stray from that plan or allow herself to be distracted. She's so, so close, and this isn't the time to take her eyes off the prize.
At the party at a bar in SoHo, Dr. Weaver introduces Rachel to Lorelai Warner, an agent who represents more than a few well-known Broadway stars. Rachel recognizes the opportunity before her.
"You're magnetic on stage," Lorelai comments, watching Rachel thoughtfully. "Dr. Weaver mentioned that you auditioned specifically for Lois, but I don't understand why you wouldn't want the lead."
Rachel knows that this is some sort of test. "I think I'm better suited to the role I played," she explains, giving the answer she's been giving since her audition. She can tell though, that Lorelai is looking for more. "I felt like my chances of being cast as the lead in the spring musical were better if I hadn't just played a lead. I suppose you could look at it as a strategic decision."
Lorelai looks at her appraisingly. "Smart," she says simply before taking a sip of her drink. "It was nice to meet you, Rachel."
It's absurd, but the conversation feels like a victory.
She won't let someone who couldn't be bothered with her for twenty-two years mess up what she's been working for for so long.
*
Her resolve doesn't falter until Friday, after she's finished all of her finals and doesn't have anything pressing occupying her mind. She's up early, out of habit, so she goes to a yoga class for a bit of stress relief.
By the end, when she's lying in savasana, tears are rolling down her cheeks, and she knows that she has to make the call if only because she can't live with the uncertainty. The not knowing, the what if--
That would be worse than being rejected again, even knowing how much that rejection hurt the first time around.
*
They meet in a Starbucks on the Upper West Side. (Rachel doesn't want Shelby in her own neighborhood, doesn't want to associate the woman with her home here.)
"What changed?" Rachel asks when they're both sitting with their drinks. She isn't at all interested in drinking her herbal tea, and she has her hands folded in her lap so she doesn't start picking at the little cardboard sleeve.
"Once I got the family I'd always imagined, I realized that I didn't have to sacrifice a relationship with you to have that," Shelby answers simply. Her hand comes up to brush her hair aside, and Rachel notices a sizable diamond on her left hand. "I grew up, Rachel."
She scoffs. "Weren't you supposed to do that before you adopted a child?" It's mean, but Shelby doesn't exactly inspire sweetness in her.
"Probably." There's a wry smile on her lips. "The picture I had in my head was a fantasy, Rachel. It's something I've always done, built these elaborate scenarios in my head only to have them smashed to bits, but I can't help it. But then I got Beth, and I met George and fell in love." Her expression softens. "We got a dog, and then he was transferred to Connecticut for work, and I got my house and my garden." She takes a little sip of her drink. "It was exactly how I pictured it. Perfect. And every single day, I still thought about you."
"Living in your fantasies must be genetic," Rachel says evenly. "What kind of dog do you have?"
"A cocker spaniel that Beth chose from a shelter in Cincinnati. Her name is Aurora."
"Sleeping Beauty?"
Shelby nods, smiling fondly. "Beth's favorite."
Rachel wonders if it's because Aurora is the one she looks the most like, the way that most little girl's favorite Disney princess is the one they most resemble. (Rachel's favorite is Belle.) Did Beth inherit Quinn's blonde, graceful looks, or does she take after her father? At five years old - and god, did all of that really happen only six years ago? - is she the chubby child that Quinn apparently was, however hard that is to picture?
"What do you want from me, Shelby?" It's the first time she's said the woman's name in years, and it feels strange on her tongue.
"To get to know you," she answers simply.
"I don't need a mother."
It just sort of slips out without her permission, but it's true. Once, she believed that she did need a mother, and that she needed Shelby to be that for her, but she knows better now. Her fathers have given her everything that she needs.
"I know that," Shelby says quietly, nodding her head. "I just want to know who you are as a person, Rachel."
Rachel realizes that she's picking at the sleeve on her cup; she doesn't know when she started doing that. "I have an appointment in midtown in an hour," she lies, giving herself an out, a very specific amount of time to have to sit here. "What do you want to know?"
*
Rachel keeps her meeting with Shelby to herself, even though she talks to both her dad and Noah later that day, though she doesn't quite know why.
Their conversation was superficial at best. She learned that Shelby teaches elementary music and is in charge of the children's choir, and she told Shelby about her time at NYU. They didn't discuss Beth or Shelby's husband or Rachel's father, and when Rachel talked about how she spent her summer, she didn't mention Noah's name at all.
It's all very strange, and she doesn't quite know what to make of any of it.
One morning, Rachel gets a call from Shelby when she's in a yoga class. (She finds that she's craving the relaxation that yoga gives her more and more lately, and without school, she's able to indulge that craving almost daily.) Shelby's message says that she's going to be in the city all afternoon doing Christmas shopping, and if Rachel's available, she'd love to meet her for dinner.
They make small talk, discussing traffic and tourists and how difficult it can be to find the perfect gift when you don't know someone well. (That bit seems a little too on-point for comfort, but Rachel ignores it.) Rachel has taken exactly two bites of her pasta when Shelby sets her fork down and looks across the table at her seriously.
"We're going to be in Ohio for Christmas, but we're having a party at our house on Saturday night with some family friends and work colleagues," she says carefully. "I'd like it if you'd consider coming."
Rachel's glad that she's already swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, because she thinks her throat might be closing up. "I don't--"
"I understand if you don't want to," Shelby interrupts. "You don't have to feel obligated at all, but the invitation is there, and you can certainly bring your boyfriend along. I'll text you the address and the other information."
They haven't discussed Rachel's romantic life, and it's interesting that Shelby assumes there's a boyfriend.
Shelby changes the subject then, talking about the holiday concert that the choir she's in charge of put on and how difficult it is to find good Jewish music for such a concert.
"Does Beth sing?" Rachel asks. It's the first time she's asked about the little girl.
Shelby smiles fondly. "She does. I suppose that makes sense, given who her parents are."
Too much. It's too much, and Rachel quickly changes the subject to an article she read in the Times about a disease that seems to be attacking cedar trees in the Northeastern United States. She knows she's being entirely transparent, but she can't find it in herself to care, and Shelby doesn't say anything about it, just following along with the line of conversation without any comment.
She thinks about Noah during her entire trip home, and by the time she gets off the subway, she's decided that she should tell him about all of this, about Shelby finding her on campus and the meetings that they've had. She doesn't know if she should go to this Christmas party, or even if she wants to, and she'd like to know what he thinks about all of it.
"I've been thinking about you all day," he says when he answers, his voice low. "You suck for not coming home."
"I wish I could," she breathes, curling her legs up beside her on the couch. "I miss you."
"Are you okay?" Puck asks. She sounds strange, sort of sad and wistful, and he hates it. He wants her to be happy like, all the time.
"It's just been a weird day," she answers. He can tell that she's lying.
"Rach."
She makes a noise that's almost a laugh. "It's nothing."
She can't tell him. Shelby is her problem, and if Rachel's going to be an adult, she needs to learn how to take care of her own problems. Besides, this would dredge up all sorts of other issues for Noah, issues about Quinn and his daughter and the boy that he was before he became the man that he is, and it isn't fair of her to ask him to deal with that when he doesn't actually have to.
"I almost bought some mistletoe today," she tells him, changing the subject. "Then I realized that the only person I want to kiss won't be here to appreciate it."
He makes a noise from the back of his throat. "Baby."
*
She decides to go to Shelby's party for a couple of reasons, the most important of which is that she wants to see what the woman's life is really like now that she 'has it all,' the things that she left Rachel behind to go get for herself.
It's a sick sort of curiosity, she knows, but it is what it is.
She asks Mike to go with her because she trusts him more than anyone else she knows in the city by far, and, to a certain extent, he understands the history there. He wasn't involved, but he saw what happened the last time that Shelby came into her life, even if he was observing from a distance.
"Are you sure you want to go to this thing?" he asks after she's told him everything that's happened in the last couple of weeks. She's sitting on the end of his bed with her legs crossed one over the other while he leans against the headboard, watching her.
"I feel like I have to," she tells him. "I need to know."
"Rachel, have you told your dad about this?" She shakes her head, and his expression hardens a little. "Have you told Puck?"
"It doesn't have anything to do with them. My dad will worry about me, and it'll bring up all that stuff for Noah. This is for me to deal with." She sighs quietly. "If you don't want to go with me, it's fine. I just didn't want to go alone."
Mike shakes his head at her. "I think it's a bad idea to keep this a secret," he tells her seriously, then huffs out a breath. "What am I supposed to wear to this thing?"
Mike borrows a car from one of his friends so they don't have to worry about the train schedule, and Rachel wears a deep blue wrap dress with long sleeves and a pair of nude colored heels.
Mike reaches across the center console to take her hand when they drive into Hartford. "We can go back whenever you want, Rach."
She nods, but she doesn't say anything. She's been second-guessing her decision to come here since the moment she made it, but she isn't going to be able to live with herself if she doesn't follow through. It's something like a catch-22.
Mike lets out a low whistle when he turns into the cobblestone driveway the GPS directed him to. "What does her husband do?" he asks, looking up at the enormous two-story house.
"I don't know," Rachel answers, realizing for the first time that she never bothered to ask and Shelby didn't volunteer the information. The roof is outlined in white twinkle lights, and she can see an enormous Christmas tree framed in a bay window to the right of the front door. Rachel catches sight of a menorah silhouetted in another window, unlit because Hanukkah ended a week ago.
Shelby smiles when she opens the door. "I'm glad you decided to come, Rachel."
It isn't as awkward as Rachel had feared. She and Mike are a bit young for the crowd, maybe, but no one behaves that way. She knows that Shelby assumes that Mike is her boyfriend, but she isn't interested in correcting the woman. They meet George, Shelby's husband, and learn that he works in management at a national software company. Rachel sips a glass of champagne and has a conversation with one of Shelby's teacher friends about some of the shows that are currently on Broadway, though she doesn't question why Rachel is so knowledgeable. (Or who the hell she is, for that matter, and Rachel wonders if anyone here has been filled in on the particulars of her relationship to Shelby.)
Coming back from the restroom, Rachel nearly walks right into a little blonde girl in a puffy purple dress who's dancing near the Christmas tree. Beth.
"Hi," Rachel greets quietly. "I like your dress."
"Thank you," Beth says sweetly. "Purple is my favorite color."
"I like it, too."
Beth peers at her. "Who are you?"
I'm the daughter your mother had before you, the one she didn't want. The one you replaced. "I'm Rachel. And you're Beth?"
"How did you know that?"
Rachel smiles. "I'm a good guesser."
"My daddy tells me that I shouldn't guess when I do my homework," Beth says seriously.
Rachel feels her heart break a little. There are so many implications in that sentence for her. Too many. "That's good advice," she manages. "It was nice to meet you, Beth," she says quickly before walking away to find Mike. It's time to go, right now.
He doesn't say anything until they're on the highway heading back towards the city. "Are you all right?"
No. "I'm fine."
They're both quiet on the drive back into the city. Rachel starts counting the mile markers, noting which ones are missing along the way, all an effort to keep herself from thinking too seriously about what they just saw. If she thinks about it too much, she's going to cry, and she's determined not to do that until she's alone. (She doesn't want to worry Mike any more than she already has.)
The tears begin when she's in the elevator, and even though she's doing her best to ignore them, they don't seem to want to stop. Through her entire bedtime routine - from changing her clothes to checking the locks on the door before she turns off all the lights - silent tears slip down her cheeks.
She reaches for her phone in the dark and dials Noah without really even thinking about it. She doesn't want to be alone right now, and Noah has become the person she calls. For nearly everything.
He sounds tired when he answers. "I'm sorry I woke you up,"
"'S'okay," he mumbles. "'S'goin' on?"
"I had a weird dream," she lies. She wants to talk to him, but she doesn't want to burden him with all of this. She doesn't really want to lie either, but it seems the lesser of two evils. "Now I can't get back to sleep."
"You wanna tell me about it?" he offers. When she was little, Abby sometimes had these really bizarre dreams, like the one about flamingos pecking off her toes, and sometimes she would come crawl into bed with Puck and tell him about them. Talking about them sort of highlighted the fact that they were weird instead of scary so she could fall asleep again, and then Puck would carry her back to her own bed.
"I don't really remember anything. It was just strange, you know?" Noah makes a noise that she assumes is an agreement. "I wish you were here."
"Me too, baby."
"Tell me something silly," Rachel requests. She's too far inside her own head, and Noah's always been good at distracting her with the most absurd things. This thing she does where she calls him when she can't sleep is far from new.
He tells her about the Mario Kart tournament he and Abby have set up for winter break. There are elaborate rules, because it involves each course and each character. As absurd as it is, it sounds like a lot of fun, and it pulls her out of her own thoughts enough that she feels like she'll actually be able to sleep if she hangs up the phone.
"You're sure?" he asks when she tells him that. She still sounds weird.
"I'm sure," she confirms. "Thank you. For being so good to me." He's been so good to her for so long, and sometimes she thinks that she's taking it for granted. Today especially, she doesn't feel like she deserves to have him. (Insomuch as she has him.)
"Baby." Puck kind of loves it when she gets all sentimental, even though she's worrying him a little right now. "You deserve it. Fuck, you deserve better than me."
"No," she whispers. She doesn't deserve him at all. "Good night, Noah."
*
Puck's spending winter break doing a whole lot of nothing in Lima, mostly because his mom wanted him there. She's convinced that he's going to move halfway across the country after he graduates (she's probably right), and she's trying to keep him close while she can. His days are full of sleeping in, his mom's food, and ignoring Abby's bullshit.
He's fucking around on Facebook when he sees that Rachel's been tagged in a new photo. He looks because he has nothing else going on. She's standing in front of a huge ass Christmas tree in a blue dress, talking to a little girl with blonde curls. The photo was taken, apparently, by someone named Shelby Morris.
The girl is tagged as Beth.
Rachel's just walking out of Starbucks when her phone rings. She takes a second to wrap her scarf around her neck before answering. "Hi, Noah!"
"You've been talking to Shelby," he states flatly.
Rachel's steps falter, and she's glad that there isn't anyone walking behind her. "I--yes."
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He's pissed the fuck off, though he doesn't know what about, exactly. Jesus, this girl will call to tell him about so-and-so's performance in some fucking singing class, but she doesn't tell him that she's been talking her her estranged birth mother, the woman who adopted his daughter? Is this why she sounded so weird on the phone last night? "There are pictures of you with her on Facebook, Rachel."
She doesn't know what he's talking about, but that doesn't seem important. "Because it didn't have anything to do with you," she answers honestly, pressing her lips together when he scoffs. "She found me performing at school. We've seen one another a couple of times since then, and she invited me to a Christmas party last night."
"And it didn't have anything to do with me." He fixates on that, even as he gets the confirmation, to his mind, that her 'weird dream' last night was a lie and she was really freaked out about being at this fucking party.
His voice is so hateful that it physically hurts her. "It was all about Shelby and about me, Noah. It wasn't about her at all." To say Beth's name feels like crossing a line, so she doesn't. She knows that he knows who she means.
"Until you were posing for pictures with her."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she insists, and however good an actress she is, Puck can tell that it's the truth. "I met her last night at that party, and if someone took a picture, I didn't know it."
"That isn't the fucking point," he snaps. "So this is why you called me last night, to freak the fuck out about all of this, but lie about it instead of actually telling me what the fuck was going on."
"Please stop swearing at me," she pleads. She's still carrying her gingerbread soy latte, but she isn't interested in drinking it at all any more, not when Noah is so angry with her. He's never been this angry with her. "I didn't want to drag all of that out for you again, not when it didn't have to happen."
He hears that he isn't as important a part of her life as she is in his when she says that, because if the situation was reversed, Rachel is the first person he would have told. If Shelby found him, offering him a relationship with his daughter, he would have told her everything because she deserves to know and she's tough enough to handle it, not to mention the fact that he doesn't tell anyone else as much as he tells her. Fuck, he tells her fucking everything. So either she doesn't care about him the same way that he cares about her, or she just thinks he isn't strong enough to deal. Either way, fuck her.
"You should've told me, and you sure as fuck shouldn't have lied about it."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"I can't talk to you," Puck realizes. If she doesn't care enough about him to tell him this... "I don't want to talk to you about this or anything else."
"Noah--"
He hangs up before she can say anything else, jerking the battery out of the back of his phone so he doesn't have to listen to it ring when she tries to call him back. He kind of hates her right now, and if he has to talk to her, he's going to say something really fucking mean, the kind of thing he hasn't said to her in years. He thought he knew all the worst of Rachel. She can be selfish and self-involved, and she worries too much about what other people think, but he never knew that she was a fucking liar. In fact, she's always been the honest-to-a-fault type, so finding out that it's this easy for her to lie to him about this - it's like a kick in the nads.
He feels like he doesn't know her at all.
And maybe she didn't think that he needed to know that she was seeing Shelby, but it isn't just about Shelby when it's about Shelby, and Rachel fucking knows that. She says that she was trying not to hurt him or whatever, but she had to know that he was going to find all of this out eventually. Jesus, at some point, wasn't she going to tell him that she was talking to her mom again?
It's like a mindfuck and a half.
*
After three days of not being able to get a hold of Noah at all, Rachel starts to panic. At first, his phone was off, she knows, but then he started ignoring her calls, sending her to voice mail after two or three rings, and she didn't bother leaving messages that she knows he won't listen to.
Wednesday night, she decides to call Marlene. She's sure it's against some code, calling his mother, but she's worried about him.
"Oh, Rachel," Marlene sighs after Rachel's explained what happened. "You don't give him enough credit."
"What?"
"Giving up that baby hurt him more than anything he's ever done to himself or had done to him, but he knows that it was the right thing. If he couldn't handle the idea that your mother has that little girl, he just wouldn't have anything to do with you," Marlene says flatly. It stings. "But you not telling him that you were seeing her is a lie to him, and he hate liars. His father was a liar."
"How do I fix it?"
"I don't know, sweetheart, but you're going to have to give him time."
It isn't so much that Marlene tells her anything that she didn't already know on some level, but more that Rachel hadn't thought about it this way before. And in a lot of ways, the worst part is that she knows that she's finished with Shelby. She doesn't need the woman. She may have completely jeopardized her relationship with Noah for this woman who's done nothing for Rachel beyond giving her not-terrible genes.
Hearing that there isn't anything she can do makes it all that much harder. Rachel is an action girl, not a sit-and-wait girl.
"I love him," she admits quietly to Marlene. It just sort of slips out, but it's absolutely the truth. He's her best friend, and she's been falling in love with him for years. Maybe she shouldn't be saying it to his mother before she's even considered saying it to him, but now it's out there.
"I know you do," Marlene murmurs. Rachel knows that it changes nothing.
*
Rachel waits two weeks to call him again, hoping that the time and the space will make him more inclined to listen to her this time around.
"Can you please just hear me out?" she asks when he answers. She's had two weeks to do nothing but think about what she wanted to say to him, and she really wants to be sure that he hears it all.
"Rachel--"
"Please?"
Puck sighs. He's kind of surprised that he hasn't heard from her before now. The girl's so stubborn that he figured her for the type who wouldn't let you forget that you needed to forgive her. But he also knows that she called his mom, so maybe she actually took the advice he knows his mom gave her, whether Rachel asked for it or not. "Yeah," he finally sighs. "Okay." He hears her take a deep breath.
"I'm used to handling things on my own, Noah, especially where Shelby is concerned. Back in high school, I didn't even mention her name to my fathers until after she told me that she wanted a family that didn't include me." It's one of the many things in her life that she would go back and change if she could, because as much as she worried about hurting her dads' feelings back then, it would have been infinitely easier to deal with all of it if they'd been there.
Thinking about that right now is something like irony. She wishes she'd learned her lesson the first time around.
"I wanted to tell you about all of it," she admits. "The second time I met with her, when she invited me to that party. And then I called you, and I couldn't, because I didn't want you to feel anything like the way that I felt then." She sighs softly, retroactively annoyed with herself for being so stupid. "I thought that I needed to grow up and deal with it myself."
Fucking flawed logic there, but Puck can see what she means.
"I'm sorry I lied," she finishes, whispering. "I just...I love you, and I didn't mean to hurt you." Noah is quiet for a long time, so long that she finally says, "Please say something."
He's kind of reeling from the fact that she just said she loves him. It's just about the worst time ever to hear that, even from her. "Rachel...fuck, I get it," he says, "but that doesn't make it okay. It doesn't just disappear."
"I know."
"I don't think you do," he argues. If she understood, she would never have chosen right now to tell him she loves him. That's the same shit he remembers his dad saying to his mom, things Puck could hear through the walls when they fought back before the guy left. "I can't just like--" He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, because he hates this shit, and he doesn't know how to do it. "We need some distance."
"We live six hundred miles apart." She says it without thinking.
"Rachel."
"I guess I don't know what that means," she concedes.
Puck scrubs his hand over his head, moves the phone away from his mouth, and blows out a breath. If she could keep something this huge from him - lie to him about it - what does that say about them? And she isn't totally wrong, because it does make him think about Beth, but it also makes him think about what lying did to his mom when his dad was doing it. Fuck, it feels an awful lot like she just doesn't trust him, but in the next breath, she's saying she loves him. (He's stuck on that.) "I need to like, not talk to you for a while."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Rachel's chest feels heavy, and she can already tell that she's going to cry. "This feels remarkably similar to a breakup, considering that we aren't in a relationship."
Puck doesn't say anything. All things considered, they basically are, and they'd definitely be together if they weren't living in different states, but now isn't the time to point that out.
"Will you let me know when you're ready to forgive me?" she whispers.
She's kind of breaking his heart with that. It isn't about forgiving her - because he does get why she did what she did - but he doesn't really know how to explain what it is about. "Yeah."
"Okay then." She take a deep breath and steels herself. "Goodbye, Noah."
She hangs up the phone before he can say anything, not because she's angry, but because she doesn't want him to hear her fall apart.