We Are Going to Make It Chapter 15/16
Nine perfectly packaged boxes sat stacked against the wall in the foyer of Quinn Fabray’s home.
Each one had been labeled accurately by a pink and purple bedazzled label maker an hour earlier. A nostalgic blonde stood in front of the stack and sighed. It truly was an upsetting sight. Her entire life fit inside of nine boxes. Ever since she had been kicked out of her parents’ house, Quinn had begun to travel and live much lighter than before. No longer did she keep trinkets and knick knacks or silly items that one Rachel Berry cherished more than she could ever begin to understand. Even when she moved back in with her family she only had to unpack two duffle bags and a plastic bag, three items that had contained her entire pathetic seventeen-year-old life.
This time around, Quinn was feeling less humiliation and more anticipation. She anticipated moving in with Rachel and her fathers. She anticipated being with Rachel without the gloom of her parents’ disapproval lingering overhead as they held hands. It made her heart race just thinking about the future they could have together; it would be a future she wouldn’t dread enduring, unlike the one her parents had planned out for her a few years prior. She cringed as her hand ran over her neck; the thought of her parents stressed her out.
“Hey,” a voice accompanied by two soft hands on her shoulders said softly.
Quinn didn’t turn around but instead closed her eyes and tried to forget about her horrid family. She relished in the delicate circles the brunette was rubbing into her tightly knotted shoulders as she felt her stress melt away almost instantly. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and Rachel smiled.
“How are you holding up,” she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern.
Eyes still closed, Quinn contemplated the question. How was she holding up? She was divorcing her husband. She was divorcing her husband for a woman, an act so against the will of the parents that they might literally hang her from the William McKinley High School flag pole and burn Rachel’s house down; okay, so maybe they wouldn’t go that far, but the idea certainly would not sit well with her parents. But she didn’t want Rachel to know that despite how happy she found herself at the prospect of living with her and finally being with someone she wanted to be with rather with who the rest of the world preferred her to be with, Quinn couldn’t help but feel absolutely terrified at the prospect of telling her parents.
This was different from telling them that she was pregnant. Pregnancy is a temporary condition. She had endured mine months of hell and then that baby girl, she may or may not have become attached to, had left her life moving on to bigger and better things than being raised by two completely incompetent teenagers. Quinn knew for a fact that being in love with Rachel would not be a temporary thing. The instant their lips had touched the morning before she knew Rachel was the girl that would change her life. It was the first kiss she had ever experienced that caused her to really feel something, and not just fireworks. Fireworks only happen when there is lust; but love, love creates something more powerful than fireworks. As soon as she felt Rachel’s pair of smooth lips caress hers her heart had literally stopped. Everything stopped. The pain her heart carried vanished and it was left feeling light yet full. The guilt she felt for leaving Sam dissipated instantaneously and for a moment everything was how it should be.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled stoically.
Rachel’s hands stopped their movements; when the blonde opened her eyes she found herself staring straight into Rachel’s knowing eyes. She had seen right through Quinn’s act and had known since the moment she entered the room that Quinn was anything but fine. She reached down and grasped Quinn’s vacant hand.
“You don’t have to act like everything is okay, Quinn. Because everything isn’t okay.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Listen to me,” Rachel said sternly but with care as she propped Quinn’s chin up with her hand, “I know tonight’s dinner with your parents will be difficult for you and I would be more than willing to accompany you in case things get…out of hand.”
Quinn squeezed the hand in hers gently. Did she really want Rachel to be with her when her father exploded, insulted her fathers, kicked them out, disowned her and then finally called her a disgrace to the Fabray name? She looked at the brunette staring earnestly at her with eyes filled with unrelenting compassion and concern. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t deserve those beautiful eyes and unconditional love. Quinn was the bitch that bullied her to no end, diminished her self-confidence with demoralizing names and taunting, drew pornographic pictures of her for the entire girl population at McKinley to see, ordered and threw some of her own slushies at her, and hurt her because she was stupid and jealous and probably even then in love. Who was she kidding; of course she was in love then.
The night of Regionals Quinn could tell that Rachel was feeling nervous. She was unusually quite, which was always a sure sign that something was wrong, and she kept biting at her thumb while Mr. Schuester was giving his always inspirational speech about how winning doesn’t matter, that he loved them blah blah blah. For the entire duration of the speech, Quinn’s eyes were set on Rachel trained on her every move. No nibble of her digit, fix of the hair, or flit of her eyes went unnoticed by the enthralled blonde. Afterwards, when Rachel went off to her dressing room, Quinn snuck away to her dressing room. Santana and Brittany had run off to find a bathroom so the room was deserted. She went to her station. Making a bee line towards her unusually large duffle bag, she pulled out a bouquet of flowers she had bought during the club’s time to roam the city with a chaperone. Her chaperone had been Carl, Emma’s husband, and he had let the kids go off and do as they pleased with thanks to his chill personality.. She pulled out her black pen and sturdy white card. With a deep breath, she wrote the words she lacked the courage to say to the young star’s face.
“You are incredible, Rachel Barbara Berry. Don’t let anyone stop you from believing it. You will be here again, one day, showing the world just how talented you truly are. Break a leg.”
She signed with a heart and tucked it away inside of the roses and baby’s breath. Suddenly, her stomach began to churn as she took a shaky breath. Ignoring her doubt, she walked quietly towards Rachel, Tina, and Mercede’s dressing room, her black heels clicking throughout the halls. The door was open and the blonde peered inside; her eyes drank in the backside of Rachel Berry. Her dress flowed perfectly in ripples down her back and her hair fell over the front of her toned shoulders. Finally, Quinn walked as quietly as she could into the room and placed her gift carefully on the table. Luckily Rachel did not turn around and Quinn escaped down the hall where she found herself being herded to take a photo. When Rachel emerged from her room, she was beaming with bright tan skin and sparkling eyes. She was the strong willed, confident, star with a contagious smile that Quinn had grown to love.
For some reason this memory played in her mind just after Rachel had asked her the question. It was one of her happiest moments of glee, seeing Rachel so excited and energetic. Knowing that she had been the cause of Rachel’s happiness made her feel even better.
Suddenly, Quinn knew she had to have Rachel there when she told her parents. She couldn’t do this alone and for the past few days Rachel had been her only support, the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
Slowly, her head swooped down and her lips caught Rachel’s off guard in a reassuring kiss. Their lips fused together, soft skin on soft skin, and though it was ephemeral the two parted never being more content.
“I want you there, but Rachel, I need to warn you about my father he-,”
She was cut off by Rachel’s lips gently pressed against hers.
“I don’t care about your father, Quinn. I care about you,” she breathed.
Never in her life had she been so relieved to hear those four words. No one said that to her and meant it more than Quinn would ever know. The tears welling up inside of her eyes threatened to fall but she commanded them to stop.
“Why don’t we go out to the café and get some lunch? What do you say?” she offered with a fresh smile.
Rachel beamed.
“I’d love to.”
***
“That was a disaster!” Quinn exclaimed as she and Rachel tumbled into the house three hours later with laughter.
Lunch had turned into mid-afternoon tea too quickly, the hours passing like minutes, and the girls finally surrendered and left their cozy café to return to the house to gather Quinn’s belongings. Their fingers were entwined and Quinn laughed heartily as she helped Rachel with her winter coat, sliding the arms gracefully off of the woman’s slender arms.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Rachel cried in defense.
Quinn threw their coats on two hangers with her back towards the open living room and hung them up in the closet. As she turned around she felt something unsettling. Something wasn’t right. Rachel noticed Quinn’s change in demeanor.
“What is it?” she asked.
Then she smelled an all too familiar smell. The scent of freshly poured liquor traveled from the living room into Quinn’s nostrils leaving her frozen in the foyer.
“My parents are here,” she whispered as she suddenly began to sink into herself.
This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not here, not so suddenly.
Slowly, Quinn turned around and met the infuriated and penetrating glare of her father and the petrified gaze of her mother. Her eyes darted from the coffee table now hosting two glasses of liquor to her ex-husband on the opposite couch with a look akin to a deer in headlights.
“Dad?” was all she could manage to get out.
His eyes pierced straight through her, burning holes in her complexion.
“Quinn Elizabeth Fabray,” he said in a terrifyingly soft voice, “Would you mind explaining to your mother and I what in God’s name is going on?”
Frozen with fear, Quinn could only gape; a warm hand encompassed hers and pulled her from out of shock. She looked to Rachel as she gave her hand a squeeze and smiled an encouraging smile. Quinn cleared her throat and approached her parents.
“What are you doing here?” she choked out, humiliated by how weak she was coming across.
“What are we doing here?” he asked with a hollow laugh, “Your mother and I thought we’d surprise you and your husband with a potluck dinner Judy spent the morning preparing. Little did we know you were about to move out and divorce the poor man. Now, answer my question, young lady. What is going on?”
Quinn took a deep breath and focused on the hand holding hers; it was the only thing that was keeping her from falling apart.
“Sam and I have decided to separate.”
He scoffed at the ambiguous explanation.
“Don’t be smart with me,” he scolded.
She flinched back as she saw his hand move but remembered that she was not five years old anymore. She was not a little girl subservient to her father anymore.
“We’re getting a divorce and I’m going to move out as soon as possible.”
“Were you planning on telling us? Or were you just going to let us find out through the grape vine? Has this pathetic excuse for a woman caused you to go insane? How can you sit here and throw away everything we’ve made for you? Everything has been perfect and of course you go and screw it up. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Perfect? Really, Dad? You think my life is perfect? Are you blind? I’m miserable here. You have predictably chosen to ignore it and pretend everything is fine when you know it’s not. I shouldn’t be surprised,” she threw back with venom laced in her voice.
“How dare you speak to me like that? Apologize immediately!” he yelled, his voice booming throughout the household.
Quinn released Rachel’s hand, the anger overtaking her, and pushed her aside so she could fight the man who had made her life hell since the moment she was born.
“I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. Can’t you see that? I am a grown woman and I am capable of making my own God damned choices. You think you can control me? You think you can scare me into not divorcing Sam? You think you can scare me into doing whatever the hell you want? I’m not scared of you, Dad, not anymore. It turns out you’re an even bigger coward than I am.”
The man couldn’t even respond, floored by the sudden audacity of his daughter. He merely gaped in disbelief.
“You want to know why Sam and I have decided to split? It’s not because we cheated or suddenly hate each other. It’s because we are not in love, Dad. We are miserable with each other and actually we’re better off as friends than as a married couple.”
Quinn looked to Rachel, knowing that once she released the next words out into the open her life would change forever. Did she want this change? Did she want to declare her love for the woman she had been waiting her life for? She thought of a future with Rachel. She imagined lazy Sundays lying in bed, listening to Broadway show tunes, caressing each other’s warm body, just being. She imagined kissing her goodnight, kissing her good morning, hell, kissing her whenever she wanted to. She envisioned breakfast at the coffee shop, bringing her flowers to every single one of her performances because she’d purchase a ticket for every single show the theater offered. She thought of being able to hold her hand as they did now without the guilt of cheating on Sam. Most importantly she imagined giving her heart to the one person in her life that she trusted enough to protect it. And she would protect Rachel’s if she ever let Quinn have her heart. It was all she wanted. It was all she would ever want.
“Dad, I am sick of you judging Rachel because of her fathers. She is perhaps the kindest woman I have ever had the honor of calling a friend. I was naive and let you dictate my life, let you prevent me from speaking to her ever since we were placed in the same class in second grade. I never understood why. It was the rules, you said. It was just the way it was supposed to be. You know what? The rules were wrong and they still are. You have no right to judge someone you don’t even know. And I know Rachel, I-,”
She was cut off by her now fuming father who had regained his confidence.
“I find it hilarious that you still claim to know this girl when really you don’t. It is truly hilarious,” he sneered.
Now he was just messing with her and suddenly, Quinn felt confident that she knew Rachel, not at all insecure like the first time he asked her how well she knew the brunette.
“Really? I don’t know Rachel Berry? I find that hilarious. I know her better than anyone. She is my best friend. I tell her everything and she tells me everything. She has the most incredible voice I have ever heard. She always orders green tea at the coffee shop next to the theater because it gives her enough energy to get through all of her performances as a cast member of the rigorous show Rent. Her favorite movie remains Funny Girl and we’ve watched it I think twice-,”
“Three times,” Rachel interrupted with a growing grin on her face.
“Sorry, three times. Whenever she gets excited her eyes light up and you can see these tiny speckles of light in them. She cannot bowl to save her life, has read The Great Gatsby seventeen times and owns six copies, hates any form of negativity, keeps a rather obsessive collection of chapstick in her dressing room, and would rather die than miss a performance. She will never admit to it but she snores lightly yet always wakes up with abnormal amounts of energy and when she yawns her nose wrinkles and it’s adorable and-,”
“Quinn,” Rachel said softly as she retook her hand.
Quinn realized that she was now panting, out of breathing, and pacing a hole in the floor. Her mother’s eyes were wide in shock. Sam stared at the carpet hoping he didn’t seem upset though he obviously was.
“What are you saying, Quinn?” her father asked quietly, the anger turning into horror at where the conversation seemed to be heading.
“Well, I guess what I am trying to say is that I know Rachel Berry because I am in love with her.”
Rachel’s grip tightened as they braced themselves for the anger to come; but it never did. Her parents sat staring at Quinn as if she had seven heads and a tail. Judy was speechless. Russell was suddenly unresponsive.
“Daddy?” she asked quietly, suddenly becoming that little girl in the uncomfortable Sunday dress.
His eyes met his daughter’s matching hazel ones. They were pierced with pain and disappointment but void of anger. It caught the blonde off guard seeing her father suddenly so vulnerable.
“Ever since you were born, I knew exactly how I wanted your life to be. I imagined you as the queen of your high school, leaps and bounds above your classmates, the prom queen and the most desirable girl in the school. Then I saw you go to college, Harvard was my guess, studying to become a lawyer or doctor. I saw you meeting the man of your dreams and coming home with news of your engagement. I imagined paying for your wedding and walking you down the isle as a proud father. You would have grandchild after grandchild, perfect little boys, and live right next door. When I died I’d leave the world knowing you were successful. But I can never have that now. You ruined your life by getting pregnant at sixteen with a horny Jewish kid. I thought kicking you out would have made you learn your lessen but I was mistaken. You will never change. You will always be a disappointment to this family. No matter how many times I punish you or God punishes you, you never learn. And you never will.”
Tears streamed silently down his cheek but he made no effort to wipe them away. Her tears mirrored his, the sting of his disappointment more potent then ever before. She knew he was wrong about her, he had to be, but letting down the person she has always wanted to please hurt her in ways she could never describe.
“You are a disgrace,” he whispered in a tone of brutal honesty that stung more than the his usual malice.
For a moment, Quinn believed it and was right back on that couch her junior year in college. As she felt the apology on the tip of her tongue, she stopped it from flowing out of her mouth.
“I am a disgrace because I’m in love with a woman?”
He winced, shuddering at the reality of his daughter’s sexuality.
“No, you are a disgrace because you are not the daughter I thought I raised. I truly have no idea who you are.”
Though Quinn had been well aware of this fact, her knowledge didn’t prevent a sob to wrack her body. Your mother and father are supposed to be the two people who know you best. And here Quinn sat as her father declared that she was disgrace and that he didn’t know who she was; and he didn’t. She didn’t even know who she was anymore. All she knew was that she was in love with Rachel Berry, her former arch nemesis and current best friend, the woman who had changed her life. Everything was falling apart, her marriage, her family, her identity.
“Would you like to know who I am, Dad?” she asked quietly as her body shook.
Rachel’s hand acted as an anchor, keeping her grounded to reality. She looked at her father uneasily, awaiting his response.
“No,” he replied coldly as he took yet another gulp of the burning liquid.
She winced as the searing pain of rejection hit her with sudden and brute force. Her voice was caught in her throat, unable to form any coherent response. What does one say when her father refuses to love her?
“You are no longer my daughter,” he whispered, his voice wavering on the last word.
Her eyes widened, though she had expected this. She had expected this and yet here she sat on the brink of a panic attack. Her family was slipping through her hands like sand.
“What?”
He cleared his throat, his eyes averting Quinn’s.
“You are no longer a Fabray. I can’t look at you without wanting to vomit.”
Quinn’s mouth hung open as her body began to shake again, though this time Rachel’s strong arms were there to steady her. Her mind was frozen. She should be used to this. She had done this before; why did this suddenly hurt more than her past confrontation with her parents had hurt her? The arms around her tightened their hold around her shaking frame.
Rachel.
This was different because the one she loved was being hurt by that monster. The reason this hurt more than the pregnancy because then she had known that she deserved to be kicked out. She had been stupid, cheated on her boyfriend, and as a result was left homeless and pregnant. Her parents’ anger then was justified. Now, she knew that it wasn’t. She hadn’t done anything wrong this time, right? All she had done was confess to loving another woman.
I just confessed to loving a woman…
“How can you just sit there?” Rachel asked suddenly in disbelief, her voice pulling Quinn out of her nearly catatonic state.
The brunette was staring at her mother who currently was wringing her hands together and biting her lip. Up until this point, the woman had not uttered a single syllable.
“Excuse me,” she asked, trying to add a bit of venom but the words coming out insecure rather than venomous.
Rachel repeated herself.
“How can you just sit there as your husband abandons your daughter again?”
Quinn watched as her mother’s face wavered and became a look of complete guilt. It was déjà vu to say the least. The question Rachel had just asked was one Quinn had been asking herself ever since the first time her father beat her.
“You have no right judging my wife. Who do you think you are?” her father boomed before his wife could utter a predictably petty excuse.
Rachel let go of Quinn to face the burly man in front of her, breathing in the revolting smell of alcohol and cologne.
“I think you are well aware of who I am Mr. Fabray,” she said defiantly with a look of conviction.
He laughed maliciously.
“What a catch,” he spat back mockingly towards his daughter.
“That’s enough,” a new voice interrupted.
Sam stood up from his perch on the couch and intervened. He was sick of the fighting. He was sick of the Fabray’s. He was sick of it all.
“I want you all out of my house,” he said sternly.
Before any of them could protest, the man cut them all off.
“Mr. Fabray, Quinn wasn’t the only one who wanted the divorce. It was my decision too. I’ve know her for a long time, though not nearly as long as you have, and I know this is the right thing. Quinn deserves happiness, right? Isn’t that what you always wanted for her? Well, it’s what I want for her and the only way she’s going to get it is if she’s with Rachel.”
His words echoed throughout the house, resonating strongly within Quinn. Mr. Fabray straightened his coat jacket and grabbed his glass tightly, clinging on to the last bit of normalcy in his life.
“Come on Judy,” he ordered, “let’s go. Dinner is getting cold at the house. We’re wasting our time here.”
He placed the glass back onto the table and proceeded towards the oak door.
“Judy?” he called as he grabbed his coat from the closet.
The woman stood up, tears running down her face, and approached her trembling daughter. She raised a hand to her and brushed a stray blonde lock away from her glistening hazel eyes. Their eyes met, the older woman’s eyes staring into her daughter deeply. Her eyes seemed to say it all. I’m sorry. I love you. You will always be my daughter. It will be alright.
Quinn stared in awe of her mother for a moment before lunging forward to embrace her. It was a new feeling, a warm one, being held by her mother. She felt her hair being stroked gently by a firm hand as the other hand held her tightly. Before she could stop, she released a sob that only tightened the hug.
“Judy?”
The warmth overwhelmed her and it required every last bit of will power she could muster up to not fall apart in her mother’s arms. It had been a very long time she and her mother had been in this position. Actually, the last time was before her tenth birthday. She closed her eyes, inhaled a whiff of her mother’s classic perfume she had grown up with, and just tuned out the rest of the world. She tuned out Sam trying to get everyone to get out of his home. She tuned out her father calling for her mother to come home. For a few moments she just let herself be held by her mother.
“Judy!”
“Listen to me,” she whispered into Quinn’s ear softly, “I don’t care about what he says, you are my daughter and I will protect you this time. I have failed you so many times in your life and I’m changing it now. I’m going to go home and end this but you hang in there, okay? Call me if you need anything.”
Quinn smiled faintly and let herself out of her mother’s arms. As she was turning away, Quinn remembered something.
“Mom!” she called out.
“Yes?” the woman responded.
“So you’re okay with me and Rachel?” she asked seriously.
Her mother smiled brightly.
“Of course. Sam is right, you know. I’ve never seen you happier.”
With that her mother kissed her on the cheek and accompanied her husband out of the door, out of her life. Suddenly, Quinn felt incredibly fatigued, her legs slowly giving out as she walked back to Rachel and Sam. Sam went to the table and into the kitchen to put away the glasses of alcohol the man had consumed during his short stay. Rachel walked slowly to the blonde. Their eyes met instantly, no words spoken, and their hands suddenly found each other. The pair walked towards the door, Quinn slung her duffle over her shoulder, and then they exited the house without a goodbye.
Once inside of the safety of the backseat of the car, Quinn’s lip began to quiver. Rachel blasted the heat and still grasping her hand pulled the blonde closer into her chest. All at once a tsunami of emotions flooded her leaving her a mess in the woman’s sturdy arms. She let herself disappear in the warmth of Rachel’s body as sobs wracked throughout her body causing her to contort and wheeze and sniffle until she could barely breathe.
“Quinn, Quinn, shh, honey, it’s alright. I’ve got you,” Rachel said reassuringly, though she too had begun to cry.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel, I-I-I’m so sorry,” she wept into her soft chest.
Rachel kissed the top of her head and rocked her slowly, trying desperately to calm the blonde down; it was useless. It would take more than comforting words and a strong pair of arms to make this right, to make it okay. So Rachel just held her, cried with her, sang to her, alone in the backseat of her car until the sun went down and the stars came out. Eventually the blonde drifted off, exhausted both physically and emotionally, and Rachel stroked her hair absentmindedly with one finger while gazing out of the window with one cheek smushed against the cold glass.
Her eyes drank in the night sky and its hundreds of trillions of stars lighting up the pitch black canvas with beautiful twinkling orbs. She felt small compared to the vast open space above her, yet she wasn’t wary of her significance in the world. No, she wasn’t changing the universe with some lifesaving invention; she was doing something so much more. She was saving Quinn Fabray and as she held her listening to the sound of her shallow breathing and lightly petting her soft hair, she never felt so important in her life. And even though Quinn had no idea, she was saving the young ingénue, helping her become more confident, happier, and kinder. It’s funny how a silly thing like love can morph two beings into better people simply with the entwining of two hands or the fusion of two pairs of lips.
Love.
She smiled and placed her lips onto Quinn’s soft porcelain cheek. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to rest. They’d face the world tomorrow, but until then they would hide together, losing themselves in the love that consumed them twenty-four hours a day.