Your Ex-Lover Is Dead (3/5)
Title: Your Ex-Lover is Dead (3/5)
Author: only_because3 or jeytonbrucasnaley @ fanfic.net
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel, Quinn/Puck, Rachel/Finn (though the last two are only mentioned thus far)
Length: 9598
Rating: I'll bump it up to R for this one (since I do use a very negative term in it)
Summary: AU Set in the 1940s. “Have you ever thought about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t had Beth? What you’d be doing now if we hadn’t met?”
Author's Note: Hello hello! So sorry for the delay! School started back up and I ended up adding a lot more to this chapter than I originally anticipated. Again, I tried to get everything as historically accurate as possible but I know I've probably fallen a little short. Thanks to Az for reading this over for me and I hope you're all having a wonderful Valentine's Day and enjoy!
Saturdays are perhaps Quinn’s favorite day of the week. Rachel doesn’t have to work and she doesn’t have to run off to church like she has to on Sundays, so they spend the whole day together. Rachel will try fruitlessly all morning to get Quinn to stop cleaning and eventually she gives up. But then before Quinn knows it, Rachel’s right beside her, weeding one half of the garden or taking down the curtains that Quinn plans to wash while the blonde dusts the fireplace. She always makes it so that by the afternoon, Quinn is forced to relax because all her chores were done.
On this particular Saturday, Beth is asleep in her room when they finish up the laundry. The two women stand on either side of Quinn’s bed, a new clean white sheet in her hands. She tosses one side to Rachel, wincing briefly as she bends forward to do it.
“Quinn, go sit down! I told you that if you’re in pain you need to stop what you’re doing and leave whatever you need done for me.” Rachel drops her side of the sheet and crawls across the mattress so she can take the sheet from the blonde.
“I’m pregnant Rachel. Something is always gonna hurt until I give birth.” Rachel shakes her head and gets off the bed. She puts her hand on the small of Quinn’s back, leading her over to the chair at her vanity.
“I wish you’d let me do your chores Quinn. You know I don’t mind it.” Rachel makes quick work of putting the sheet on the bed, something that recently has been taking Quinn a minute or two to do. It’s not that she’s so pregnant that she’s useless (she’s only halfway through her second trimester). Her belly is barely in the way but her back aches from everything she does all day. Between lifting Beth up and down, washing dishes, and gardening, she’s surprised her back hasn’t broken yet! But if there’s one thing Quinn hates to be considered is useless and so she shakes her head adamantly.
“I’m perfectly capable of putting a new sheet on the bed. I’m perfectly capable of doing a lot of things.”
Rachel nods as she tosses the blanket on to the bed, tucking the ends under the mattress. “I know you are liebling but you don’t have to do everything. Like tending to your garden.” Quinn busies herself with putting everything back in order on her desk, yawning right before she’s about to protest. “And I know that that is something you have to do each day. Gardens are a lot of work and a large portion of your meals are growing out there. But that’s something you can leave for me to do. It leaves you in pain on almost every part of your body and that’s not healthy for you or the baby, nor is it beneficial to Beth to have you all achy.” She grabs the pillows from the trunk at the foot of the bed and slips them into their new cases. “Look at how tired you are. You’re doing too much Quinn.”
She shakes her head, spinning a perfume bottle on its edge as she yawns again. “I haven’t been sleeping very well, that’s all. And shouldn’t I get used to being tired? There is going to be a newborn in the house soon enough.”
“That means you should be getting as much rest as you can now,” Rachel replies, walking over to the blonde. Quinn turns in her seat, setting her perfume back in line with the others. Rachel sighs and cups Quinn’s cheek. “We’re all done with chores. How about you lay down for a little while?”
“But what will you do? And what if Beth wakes up?” Rachel’s hand drops and trails its way down Quinn’s arm before it grabs on to her wrist.
“I’ll read or something. And if Beth wakes up, then I’ll entertain her while you sleep.” She tugs on Quinn’s wrist until she stands up and then she takes her over to the bed.
Quinn sighs but gets on the bed anyway, turning to grab Rachel’s wrist just as she’s about to walk away. “Stay with me for a bit?” She nods and sits down at the foot of the bed before scooting closer once Quinn’s settled. It takes her a while to get comfortable and while she normally can’t stand to lay on her back, it’s the only thing that, for now, helps her whole body relax. Rachel takes her shoes off for her and then begins massaging them even though Quinn tells her time and time again that she thinks her feet are appalling.
“You have very cute feet. And they do so much that they deserve a massage every once in a while,” Rachel replies and Quinn lets out a breath before letting her eyes close. It’s silent for quite some time (she only realizes this because the clock downstairs chimes twice and then once more 30 minutes later) before Rachel speaks again. “Quinn?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever thought about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t had Beth? What you’d be doing now if we hadn’t met?” Quinn opens her eyes, an eyebrow arched in confusion and question. “Never mind. That was a stupid question.”
Quinn shakes her head. “Come here,” she says softly, motioning for Rachel to come lay by her. “It’s not a stupid question at all.” She takes her hand as soon as she can, her thumb running over tan skin slowly, drinking in the question. “If I hadn’t had Beth I don’t think I’d be here… I certainly wouldn’t be with Noah.”
“Why do you say that? You love him don’t you?”
She smiles softly and nods. “I do. But a lot of that came from having Beth. Noah was never supposed to be around for very long. At least not in a romantic manner.”
Rachel squeezes her hand and stays silent for a while. She keeps her gaze on Quinn’s stretched stomach and she notices that the blonde’s breathing has evened out. She glances up at her face and is met with closed eyes. “What if you hadn’t met me,” she whispers, brown eyes falling back to swollen abdomen.
“I wouldn’t be half as happy as I am now,” Quinn murmurs, slowly shifting her weight as she turns on to her side. Rachel looks at her small smile and tired eyes blinking at her in long spaces. Her free hand comes up to cup Rachel’s cheek, smiling a little wider when the brunette leans into her touch. She runs her thumb over tan skin before letting her hand fall away, fingers lightly tracing her lips before the touch disappears and Quinn’s eyes close again.
Rachel spends the duration of Quinn’s nap with her fingers ghosting over her lips, committing the feeling to her memory.
--
Sunday is the only day Quinn sees her father. It’s common for her mother to stop by during the week, even more common for her sister to stop by, but this church is the only place besides his house that she’s seen her father for the past two years.
He nods at her politely as she sits down at the end of the pew, Beth already squirming to get to her grandfather. Quinn sighs tiredly before she releases her daughter, Beth walking unsteadily to Russell’s outstretched arms. Instead of his usual stony façade, he smiles widely at the little girl who looks exactly like his ruined daughter. Quinn is pretty sure she and Noah would’ve been shit out of luck had Beth looked anything like him; she’s certain her parents only help them because they think they can fix the mistakes they made with her via Beth.
The service doesn’t start for another ten minutes which means she’s left with talking to various members of the congregation (all of whom will eye her stomach cautiously before asking about Beth) and probably have the talk with her father that she’s been dreading.
When her sister came over yesterday, she mentioned that Daddy was trying to reconfigure the finances so that he could make sure everyone didn’t feel the pinch of rationing. Her sister’s voice had a bit of bite to it then but Quinn simply asked her if she wanted anymore tea. She knows that her sister hates how much their parents help them out and how very little they do for her sister’s family. Quinn’s tried to explain that even if she did want the help (which she by no means ever asked for monetary help without the intention of paying them back), their situations are very different (Leah’s husband has a wealthy family himself and owns two grocery stores. Plus, her sister doesn’t have any children). But Leah just goes into a rant about how selfish Quinn is.
Whatever the case, she doesn’t want to talk to her dad ever. The last time they had a conversation that extended beyond polite ‘hello’s and Sunday lunch chit chat (which doesn’t include actual important things and never includes Noah) was when she needed to borrow $200 because Noah dropped his paycheck on the way home from work. He hadn’t even realized it until he got home and without that money they weren’t going to be able to pay for anything they needed that month. Her father yelled at her for an hour, screaming about how she had ruined her life by sinning with that kike and how much of a complete screw up was. He gave her the money eventually and when she finally got back home she cried for three hours (and had to force Noah to stay home and not go over to her parents’ and mess things up even more).
“Quinnie.” She blinks twice, breaking her blank gaze at the altar before turning to Mrs. Whitman. She smiles widely at the old woman, moving Beth’s coat and her purse to her lap so that she can sit down.
“How are you Mrs. Whitman,” Quinn asks as the woman shakes her head at the freed seat. Mrs. Whitman worked at the library Quinn used to frequent before she got pregnant and never treated Quinn any different when her stomach started to swell.
“Tired, naturally,” she says with a wink. “My grandson is waiting for me at my usual spot so I can’t sit.” Quinn glances back a few rows and waves at the eight year old boy who blushes before waving back. “I just wanted to give these to you. I started working on them when I noticed your belly and finally finished them this week.” She hands over a stack of three knitted blankets, all of the colors neutral (green, yellow, and white). Quinn’s smile takes up her entire face as she unfolds the blankets to look at them carefully.
“Thank you so much! These are beautiful.”
“You’re very welcome m’dear. I made Beth three and so it’s only fair I make three for this baby.” The people around them start settling into their seats and Mrs. Whitman pats her on the shoulder. “I better go sit down. Congratulations again dear!”
Quinn folds the blankets neatly as her father sits down next to her, Beth perched on his knee. “Are you doing anything after church Quinn?” This is his backwards way of telling her she’ll be staying to talk to him.
“Nothing that can’t be done a little later Dad.”
He doesn’t smile, just gives her a curt nod before turning his attention to the altar.
--
When they all exit the chapel, Beth now in Judy’s arms, her father holds his arm out for her like the nice gentleman everyone thinks he is. She loops her arm through his, sighing inwardly was she watches her mother walk off with her daughter. “Do you know when Noah’s supposed to return,” he asks, waving at the preacher and his wife as they walk by.
“I’m not sure… It was a draft Daddy.” He glares down at her, upset with the way she answered. “Shouldn’t we sit down? The doctor says it’s bad for you to be standing for long periods of time and you’ve already done so much today.”
“I can handle a short walk Quinnie.” She glances down at his left leg, eyeing the way he limps carefully. Her father has a habit of going past his limit (hence the bullet that’s still rolling around somewhere near his knee cap) and her mother would kill her if he collapsed at church. “My point was that you have another baby on the way and Noah’s wages barely cover your family now. How’re you going to pay for another mouth to feed? Another back to clothe?”
“I can scrimp in certain places. I’ll start growing some more vegetable and Beth can do with the toys she has. I’ll be able to manage until Noah gets back.” She tucks her hair behind her ears after her father drops her arm.
“I’m not going to let you scrimp Quinn, even if this was avoidable,” he says once he stands to face her. “How much more a month will you need?”
“I don’t need money Daddy. I don’t even need what you’re giving me now.”
“An extra $50? $70?” He never hears anything she says.
“Daddy I don’t need it.” He shakes his head and reaches into his coat pocket. He tears off the check he already wrote up and holds it out. She stares at it blankly for a moment, only taking it when her father grunts and looks at her sharply. “Thank you,” she lies, holding the paper in her hands delicately even though she wants nothing more than to crumple it.
“C’mon. Your mother’s making pot roast for lunch.” Quinn nods, following behind her father like the dutiful daughter she still is. She idly wonders if she’ll ever be able to stand up to her parents. She has a very strong feeling that she’ll always be some how indebted to them, whether they continue to provide her with monetary support or not.
After all, her father is a man who looks after and keeps his own in line (a line that is thin and straight and so it is very easy to become misguided) forever. All the Fabray women have gone off the path he’s set for them before (her mother with her cooking, her sister being barren, and Quinn herself with the babies and Jewish husband) and she notices as he takes Beth from her mother’s arms, that he’s trying just as hard to make Beth perfect. She’s predisposed to amount to nothing in her father’s eyes, what with her father being Jewish and, for lack of a better word, complete screw up, but he thinks that with the right amount of guidance, she’ll surpass all the other women in her father’s life. She’ll grow to be the perfect woman, the perfect wife, one who will wait until proper age to marry and remain pure till then. She’ll bear gorgeous children who will all be Catholic (because, in Russell’s eyes, there is no way that Beth will be raised in a predominately Jewish way nor would she attempt that with her own children) and never disappoint Grandpa Fabray.
She watches as Russell lectures Beth who had been fighting to be put down. There are tears on the little girl’s cheeks and Quinn sighs as she tightens her grip on the gloves in her hands. Her daughter isn’t even two and Russell is already molding her into something Quinn would never expect of her. Beth is already so vastly different from the people around her. She listens to no one and is the most independent person Quinn has ever encountered that she can’t even picture Beth as a housewife. She can’t picture Beth even considering the life Quinn’s come to live.
She wonders how long it will take her father to realize this.
--
To say Quinn is miserable would be an understatement. For whatever reason, this pregnancy is hard on her body, ten times harder than when she was pregnant with Beth. Rachel keeps telling her it’s going to be a boy and that’s why he’s so active and she’s so tired.
Whatever the case, Quinn is tired and all around run down by the time she enters her 6th month. Rachel’s been doing what she can after work and some days, Quinn will open the door and find Carol on her doorstep. “Rachel told me you’ve been feeling more tired than normal lately so I thought I’d bring you lunch and maybe get some things done around the house so you can rest.” Quinn always smiles gratefully and accepts the lunch before sending Carol home. Rachel always lectures her for not letting Carol help clean but then Quinn points out that by bringing by lunch, Quinn didn’t have to cook or clean up dishes which is enough help for her.
Rachel shakes her head every night when she comes home from work. “One of these days I’m going to tie you to a chair so you’ll take a day off,” she says as Quinn watches her from the doorway of the bathroom. Rachel scrubs away at her face over the sink and when she’s finally clean, she takes one of the dresses she’s come to leave at the house from Quinn.
“I’m fine Rachel.”
But with each passing day, it gets harder for her to do certain things. Gardening is out of the question now and she can’t get to any cleaning that needs to be done in any high places. And so more and more she relinquishes some of her duties to Rachel so that she can elevate her swollen feet for a little while.
Today, she decides to take an extra long bath since Rachel is here to clean up dinner and do all the cleaning Quinn didn’t get to. Beth’s already in bed, she’s been stubbornly fighting off a cold and so she fell asleep quickly after dinner, but she still has the bathroom door cracked in case her daughter wakes up.
Quinn lets out a breath, sitting up a little straighter in the tub so that her back rests flat against the wall of the bath. She looks down at her large stomach that is slowly gaining dark stretch marks. The ones she had left over from Beth hadn’t been too horrible, only a few silvery lines running from her belly button to the top of her pelvis and one or two on the left side of her stomach. But now that her stomach is being stretched again, the once faint lines are getting darker and wider, marring her pale skin with deep reddish brown streaks. She tilts her head to the side as she runs her index finger over each line, shivering when she trails down the path toward her pelvis.
With her first pregnancy, everything was a little easier. She lived with the Puckermans until about a month before she gave birth. The only thing she really did all day was cook (Mrs. Puckerman was appalled when she came in to the house and told her she couldn’t cook. “There is no way you’re going to be able to take care of a family without knowing how to make something,” she exclaimed as she dragged Quinn into the kitchen) and do very minimal housework. She honestly spent most of her day walking Noah’s sister Jenna to and from school and then helping her with her school work once they got home. Every night she would do the dinner dishes and clean the room she shared with Noah. Compared to everything she does now, she might as well have been spending her entire first pregnancy in bed.
And it helped that Noah was always there. He was there to rub her feet or make her laugh or sneak some pork into the house for her. He would help her in and out of the tub once she got too big (or whenever he wanted an excuse to see her naked). He would always sing to her belly which would make her feel less shitty about the situation they were in and he told her ‘I love you’ every single day (which was the first time that’d ever happened to her in her entire 16 years of life).
She sighs heavily, letting herself sink further into the now warm water. She misses her husband. She’s tired of not having him here to take care of her and she feels guilty that Rachel’s become her savior of sorts because she can’t handle family life without a husband. Oh gosh does she feel guilty for doing this to Rachel. The brunette is still so young and deserved to go out and do fun things. She deserved to spend her Saturdays going to the movies or taking a walk in the park. She deserved to go to the beach or travel or just do something fun without always worrying if Quinn was alright or if she was working herself too hard. For goodness sakes, Rachel comes over after a long day at work to help Quinn do things she’s simply too tired to do. She loves that Rachel cares enough to do that for her (lord knows that not a lot of people actually care for Quinn) and she’s almost considered telling her not to bother with some of the house work. But Quinn knows it’ll only bother her if everything isn’t dusted or if the laundry doesn’t get done the day it gets dirty. And so she’s stuck in this in between area where she doesn’t know what she should do and what she shouldn’t.
She knows that even if Noah was here, she’d still be doing the bulk of the housework (her husband was a wonderful man and helped out occasionally but never to the extent that Rachel does) which makes her even more thankful than she already is for the new brunette in her life. But the simple act of having Noah close, she realizes now, calms her down and relaxes her. She never realized just how much she leaned on him and needed him before now. It almost makes her feel guilty for all those times she yelled at him for continuously messing everything up and the fact that she’s been watching Rachel a lot more closely than she should.
Quinn sighs and slouches slightly, sinking into the water a little further. When she was pregnant with Beth, Noah touched her constantly. He would rest his hands on her stomach and press into it, hoping to get a reaction out of the baby in her belly. He would hold her hand every where they went, squeezing it tightly whenever they would pass by girls who would whisper and giggle about Quinn. And at night when the day was over, he’d strip her of her dress and spend hours touching every inch of her pregnant body. Now that he’s gone, her body aches, not only from exertion, but from the need to be touched.
Which brings her back to Rachel.
Before she ever met Rachel, Quinn had never thought of other girls in the manner in which she is now. She’d never let her eyes wander when her friends would change during slumber parties yet she’s caught herself on more than one occasion looking at Rachel. First it had been the evening in her sewing room and then when Rachel started changing out of her work clothes, Quinn would find herself lingering outside the bathroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of the brunette in a state of undress. Of course, Quinn would eventually realize what she was doing, mutter a few Hail Marys under her breath, and go back to whatever she was doing before. But that didn’t change the fact that Quinn wanted to see Rachel in a manner that was much more than friendly or the fact that many nights Quinn would lay down, wishing with all her might that Noah or Rachel was there to touch her.
There’s a knock on the door and Quinn quickly scoops some water into her hands, wetting her face so that it looks a little less like she was crying (she hadn’t even realized that she started crying) . “Come in,” she says and Rachel slips into the bathroom, two clean towels in her arms.
“I brought you some fresh towels and your robe,” she says with a small smile, setting them on the bench just behind the tub.
“Thank you.” She glances at Rachel over her shoulder and it’s then that her smile drops.
“Were you crying?”
Quinn shakes her head as she pushes herself up, sitting up straight once again. “I’m just hormonal and thinking too much. I’m fine.”
“You say that much too often for it to be true Quinn,” Rachel says softly and Quinn turns her head around so that she can no longer see the brunette. Carefully, she sits down on the bench behind Quinn, tan hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “Is this okay?” Quinn chews on her bottom lip as she nods, shivering slightly when Rachel’s hands spread over her shoulders, thumbs digging in to the knot she has in between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just all over the place.”
“Is it about Noah,” Rachel asks, smiling slightly when she feels Quinn go slack under her fingers.
“Partly… It’s strange not being able to touch him or talk to him or do anything with him.” She laughs a little, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “You know, before he left, I would think of what it would be like if he were gone and I’d actually smile at all the possibilities. And I blamed him a lot for everything that happened. Even things that weren’t his fault. Doesn’t that make me such a horrible person?”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t make you a horrible person. You just didn’t know how to handle everything that was happening to you. Your parents kicked you out, you couldn’t finish school, your friends abandoned you.” She moves Quinn’s wet hair over her shoulder as her hands move to tend to the rest of her shoulders.
“He’s such a good man though… I don’t think I ever really realized it until now. He’s been wonderful to me and Beth. He’s an amazing father and he genuinely loves me…” She tilts her head slightly, moving her gaze from the plain white wall in front of her to the open window next to the sink. “I love him too but sometimes I wonder if I really do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I really loved Noah until after Beth was born and even then, I wasn’t too sure. And now, now that he’s gone I miss him so much and I worry every time that when I read the paper, his name is going to be on the list of the dead. But at the same time, I remember everything I lost because I slept with him and now you’re here and I’m just…” She trails off and Rachel’s hands still. She lets out a breath, Rachel squeezing her shoulders as she lifts the plug of the tub with her toes, letting the water slip down the drain. “The water’s gone cold.”
Rachel stands up and gets ready to leave in order to give Quinn her privacy when the blonde catches her arm, a small “Eep!” escaping Quinn’s lips. She turns around to see the blonde crouched over awkwardly, the hand that’s not on Rachel’s arm clutching desperately to the lip of the tub, one of Quinn’s legs stretched near the drain. “Quinn!” She retraces her steps and grabs on to Quinn’s arms tightly. “This is why I don’t like you taking baths when you’re home alone. You could’ve fallen and hurt yourself and the baby.” She finds her footing again, and stands up, clearly embarrassed.
“This is the first time I’ve slipped. And I honestly should’ve planted my feet better before I started to get out,” she says, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Rachel helps her step out of the tub, her eyes remaining on Quinn’s face as she does. Once her feet are securely on the tile ground, Rachel lets go of her, instead grabbing Quinn’s robe before holding it open for her. “You do too much for me.” She turns back around and Rachel shakes her head, tying Quinn’s robe securely over her stomach.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she says brightly, smiling as she pushes Quinn’s hair behind her ears. “You are a wonderful person and you love your husband and your daughter. You’re much too hard on yourself sometimes.” She hands Quinn a towel to dry her hair with before giving Quinn some time to herself.
--
They’re in the living room, Quinn on the couch with the curtains in her lap and Rachel at the fireplace, dusting the mantle. She notices the brunette slow down as she runs an old rag over Quinn’s wedding photo. “You don’t look very happy in this,” Rachel observes and Quinn sighs as she threads the metal rod through the curtain loops. Honestly, neither one in the photo looked happy. Noah looked clearly irritated with his jaw locked and an overall pissed off expression on his face. Quinn herself was practically frowning, her arm looped half-heartedly with Noah’s.
“I wasn’t. My parents had just started talking to me a few days prior, Noah was fighting with his mother because we weren’t having a Jewish wedding, my dad was upset that we weren’t being married by a Catholic priest, Beth was dancing on my bladder, and Jenna had stomped on the pastor’s foot so he was hopping in pain behind my mother as she took the picture.”
Rachel lets a small smile play on her face as she sets the picture back on the mantle. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a big wedding. Your family seems like the type to insist it.”
“Well they didn’t want very many people to know I was already pregnant and, by that point, there really wasn’t any hiding it. Though my parents did briefly bring it up and I refused to have an entirely Catholic wedding because it wasn’t fair to Noah and his family. So everyone just sort of settled on finding anyone who would marry us and a dinner at my parents’ house.” Quinn’s hands pause, thinking back to the equally horrible dinner. Her mother made ham, her father threw the mashed potatoes out, Mrs. Puckerman kept complaining about how much of a mistake this was, and Jenna and Nana Puckerman were chatting to one another in Yiddish loudly. “The only part of my wedding day that I actually look back on in fondness is that night. I could’ve done without the rest.”
Rachel finishes wiping down the mantle and then goes to sit beside Quinn, tossing the dirty rag on to the side table. “I’m sorry your wedding day was crummy. At least Noah made it worth it.”
Quinn ducks her head down a bit, her hair falling over her shoulders and hiding the light blush on her face. “Noah is quite good when it comes to things like that. Well… that really should be obvious now shouldn’t it?” She pats her rounded stomach as she hands Rachel one of the finished curtain rods.
“Was it different,” Rachel asks softly, causing Quinn to look up at her with an arched brow. “The sex. Was it different from when you were dating?” The blonde swallows hard, left hand going up to fiddle with her cross, her blush now evident on her cheeks. “Is that something I’m not supposed to ask about?”
Quinn shakes her head, fingers running over the smooth metal against her chest. “I, um… no. I mean, I had friends who would sort of talk about these sort of, um, things. But I never… This isn’t really something I was raised to be vocal about… This is what my mother would consider unladylike.”
“My sincere apologies Quinn. I’m much too curious for my own good. It’s just that so many women still wait until they’re married to experience that and the ones that don’t, don’t really talk about the fact that they didn’t wait.” She takes another rod from Quinn, easing on to her tiptoes carefully, trying not to depress the couch cushions too much.
It’s silent for a moment or two, Quinn threading the final curtain rod for the living room while Rachel puts them back up. “That time was different,” she whispers, voice cracking slightly.
“What?”
She clears her throat as Rachel sits back down carefully. “That night was different. Before that it was always nice, I suppose. We didn’t do that a lot, though as my pregnancy furthered it did become a bit, more, um, frequent. And ever since we got married it’s been wonderful as well. I’m sure my mother would call it excessive, but it’s never been like that,” Quinn answers, trying with all her might to keep a smile off her face. “That day was so horrible and, without me having to say a word, Noah took my hand and led me out of the house, to his truck, and to his mother’s house. He locked us in, closed every curtain and we made love for hours.” She shrugs slightly and releases a long breath. “He promised me that our new family would be ten times better than our old ones and that we would be a million times happier. He’d told me all that before and has since but I think the only time I’ve ever believed him was that night.”
“That sounds wonderful Quinn,” Rachel responds, letting her hand fall on the blonde’s knee before she gives it a small squeeze. “You are very lucky to have a man like Noah.”
A guarded smile finds its way on to her face as she places her hand on top of Rachel’s, lacing their fingers together. “Rachel… Why did you start dating Finn?” She’s asked before and has only been met with silence, the brunette eventually clearing her throat and changing the subject. But Quinn is so unbelievably curious about Rachel’s relationship with the man who saved her that she can’t help herself from asking more and more about him.
“I don’t really want to talk about that.” Rachel untangles herself from Quinn and grabs the laundry basket that sits on the opposite side of the blonde’s legs. She walks into the formal dining room and begins pulling out the curtains that hang over the large window as Quinn follows her.
“Why won’t you ever talk about Finn like I talk about Noah,” she asks, leaning into the door frame as her arms cross above her stomach. Rachel always mentions Finn briefly, much like her family, and when she does go a little bit more in depth, she always seems to be critiquing the tall man. As a matter of fact, the most she’s ever heard about Finn was when she went over to Carol’s for dinner.
“I don’t want to talk about this Quinn,” Rachel answers, her voice void of any sing-song quality it had before. She focuses on getting the curtains back on the rod as Quinn moves closer to her. She stops beside the brunette, stretched stomach barely skimming the side of Rachel’s dress.
“I don’t want to upset you Rachel,” she says softly, bringing a hand up to push Rachel’s unrestricted hair behind her ear. “I just want to know more about you… More about what you were like before I met you. And I want to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable by how much I talk about Noah. I just…” She trails off because she’s not sure she knows what she’s trying to say. It has been blindingly obvious to Quinn since that day at the train station that she likes Rachel much more than she should. It’s not to say that Quinn hates how flustered she gets every time Rachel touches her or looks at her in a certain way, it’s just that Quinn doesn’t know what to make of it. Her entire life she’s been taught that men and women were made for one another and that anyone who did or believed otherwise, were sinners. And then of course there was Noah. It took a long time for Quinn to realize that she loved her husband but she knows that she does. She loves that man with all of her heart now. But she’s not really sure she can if she spends half her time thinking about Rachel in the way she thinks of him.
Quinn sighs, letting her hand drop to Rachel’s shoulder. She wants to know if Rachel is just as confused and lost in this as she is. “Will you tell me about Finn?”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable when you talk of Noah,” Rachel answers quietly, clearing her throat as she threads the second curtain on to the long rod. “I find it wonderful that you have him… I don’t talk about Finn because it makes me feel very guilty and I had enough of that when I was home. Jewish women will guilt you until you’re dead Quinn.” The corners of their lips turn upward before Rachel’s fall, her eyes focused on smoothing out the fresh curtains. “I only started dating Finn because I felt like I owed him that.” Quinn takes the fabric from Rachel’s hands silently, allowing the curtains to begin to wrinkle on the table while she turns Rachel to face her. “He saved me from this scary country and protected me every step of the way. He’s a wonderful boy but I don’t know if I necessarily liked him when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I know that I didn't want to be his girlfriend but how could I say no? He gave me everything I have. ”
Quinn rolls her eyes as her smile gets a little bigger. “Is that all? I’ve told you that I had no plans of staying with my husband when I was dating him and that it took me a very long time to love him.”
“It’s very different from what you and Noah have,” Rachel insists, hands coming up to rest on the stomach that’s nearly pressed against her. “I’m not even sure I love Finn now. He’s off risking his life, fighting people who would very much like to see me dead, and I have to sit here, knowing I lied to him when I told him I loved him!” Rachel turns away from Quinn, wiping her cheeks roughly before grabbing the curtain rod in her hands. She walks over to the window and steps on to the chair she left there, carefully placing the curtains back up. “Finn is an amazing man and I should love him. Did you know that every Friday he’d somehow have enough money to get us into a movie? I’m not quite sure how he always found the spare change to get us in but he did it because he knew how much I loved all the glamour of Hollywood… And at least once a week he’d bring Carol and me flowers… How can I not love that Quinn? Does that mean that there’s something wrong with me then?”
Quinn shakes her head sternly, walking over to Rachel and clutching on to the skirt of her dress. “Do not say things like that! There is nothing wrong with you Rachel. Not one damn thing is wrong with you and there never will be.” She tugs on the girl’s dress and backs up, allowing Rachel to step off the chair and get back on solid ground. “It’s okay that you don’t know if you love him,” she says, holding Rachel’s cheeks in her hands as her fingers work to brush away the fallen tears. “Though it might not be true, I think that Finn would have rather heard that than anything else before he left. Even if it was a lie.” Rachel sniffs and almost hiccups, trying to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. Quinn pushes her hair back once more, her hands coming to rest on the brunette’s neck. “Finn sounds ten times nicer than Noah was when we were dating.”
Rachel lets out a strangled laugh before she sniffs again. “Finn was raised to be a very polite gentleman.”
“So was Noah but he was every parent’s nightmare… Well, for my parents he might as well have been the Devil.” Rachel laughs again and a small smile returns to Quinn’s face. “Did you know that Noah has never brought me flowers?”
“Really?”
Quinn shakes her head. “Not once.” She lets her forehead fall against the other girl’s, closing her eyes and listening to the way Rachel’s breathing eventually evens out. When she reopens her eyes, she finds that Rachel’s are no longer filled with tears though they still remain red rimmed. “Why do you think you don’t love him? You’ve said before that you did… Love him, that is.”
“I’m perfectly content to leave him Quinn. He’s always encouraged me to pursue my singing dreams. He’s even told me that he thinks I’d be a wonderful actress. That I could be the next Betty Grable. But I know that’s not what he wants. He wants to stay here. Wants to stay by his mom and wants his kids to grow up in the same city that he did. I would never give my dreams up for him but I know he’d do it in a heartbeat for me. That sounds awfully one sided to me.”
“You said that you wouldn’t let him do that… That means that you love him dear. You would rather he be happy without you than miserable with you. To me, that’s love Rachel.”
“Then how come it doesn’t feel like I do,” she asks and the only thing Quinn can think to do is shrug. “Why is it that I don’t feel like I love him, but I think that I could love you?”
Quinn bites her lip. Never in her life has she been so relieved and so scared at the exact same time. She opens her mouth to say something, anything that has been on the tip of her tongue for months (like how she feels the exact same way as the brunette) but she can’t figure out the right thing to say so she decides for the second time in her life to take the first piece of advice Noah ever gave her. Don’t think, just do.
She brings Rachel towards her, hands clutching her nervously as she presses their lips together firmly before pulling Rachel’s bottom lip between hers. It is completely different from kissing Noah. Rachel’s lips are soft against hers and it takes the brunette a moment before she starts kissing back but she lets Quinn continue to take the lead, something Noah has never done.
Quinn pulls away first, breathing deep and blinking slowly as Rachel looks back at her with swollen lips. The blonde takes a step back and Rachel tries to catch the other girl’s arms before she can move too far away. Quinn fidgets nervously as she turns on her heels, leaving Rachel helplessly in front of the window. She glances at the grandfather clock and then looks past Rachel and out the window. “Let’s go do something fun,” she says uneasily, finally looking at Rachel who stares back at her wide eyed. Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes tear up again, her mouth opening to say something that is probably reminiscent of ‘That is what you have to say?’ Quinn shakes her head and takes Rachel’s hands in hers. “You’re always saying that I need to relax and do things for myself so lets do it. Let’s go to the park or go see a movie… Let’s have fun before the baby is born or I’m too tired to get off the couch.” She squeezes Rachel’s hands in emphasis and she watches as the other girl’s face relaxes. She’s still looking at Quinn like she doesn’t know what to make of this and the blonde sighs. “Please?”
Rachel turns to look out the window before she nods.
--
Quinn decides that Rachel wanted to see a movie for three reasons. One, Rachel has an almost unnatural obsession with Bette Davis. Two, she’s probably upset and confused about everything (something Quinn can’t fault her for at all since she was the one who made a mess of things). And three, she probably needs a pick me up after what happened in the house.
She sits uncomfortably next to Rachel who has Beth on her lap, both girls staring up at the screen with sparkling eyes. They both wear huge grins, something that makes Quinn smile despite the fact that the theater seats feel like they dig in to every part of her body.
She doesn’t actually watch most of the movie (she hadn’t even wanted to see it) and instead watches her girls’ reactions to everything that’s happening on the screen. Beth bounces up and down excitedly on Rachel’s lap when there’s dancing and Rachel sings along quietly in Beth’s ear during the musical numbers.
It’s when she’s watching them that she understands completely why Finn always took Rachel to the movies. The look Rachel gets on her face is probably the best thing in the world.
By the time the movie is over, Rachel is no longer wearing the indifferent face she wore on the walk to town, nor is she staying as far away from Quinn as possible without seeming rude. “That was an excellent movie,” she exclaims as they leave the theater, Beth squirming uncomfortably on her hip. “All the singing and dancing and wonderful clothes.” She sets Beth down and twirls her around. Quinn smiles down at her daughter who giggles and loses her balance after spinning which causes her to fall against her mother’s legs. She runs a hand through Beth’s curls which causes her to look up at Quinn with a smile.
“Would you like to walk,” Quinn asks and Beth nods excitedly as she pushes herself off of Quinn’s legs, both of her hands raised so that each woman can take one.
“Did you enjoy the movie Quinn?”
She glances over at Rachel who seems genuinely curious about what she thought. “I didn’t pay very much attention to it. The baby kept moving and I couldn’t get very comfortable.”
The brunette frowns as she takes Beth’s hand, the three of them beginning the walk down the street. “I didn’t even think about how uncomfortable it would be for you. I’m sorry Quinn. Had I realized that, I wouldn’t have even suggested it.”
Quinn shakes her head. “It was worth it to see you two. I swear you and Beth were making the same faces.”
Rachel lets a small smile creep on to her face and she tucks some hair behind her ear. “What would you like to do now? We’ve done something fun for Beth and I and this was an outing for you.”
“It’s nice to just be out. It’s a beautiful day what with the breeze and all.”
“Would you like to go to the park? Granted that’s really more for Beth than anything.”
Quinn looks down at her daughter who keeps her head down and hops over every crack they pass on the sidewalk. “I think that would be really nice. Maybe we can stop back at the house. I’ll make a few sandwiches and snacks and we can have a small picnic while we’re there?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea Quinn.” Rachel smiles and looks at her in that way she’d begin to before Quinn freaked out in the dining room. She looks at Quinn like she accepts and wants every part of her. It makes Quinn take a deep breath and feel everything swell up in her chest once more before she exhales.
--
“You know,” Quinn starts, easing herself on to a swing, her eyes studying the chains that will be holding her up carefully. Once she deems it safe enough to sit down without the structure crumbling under her weight, she looks back at Rachel and continues. “I’ll probably never do anything like this again.”
“Go to the park,” Rachel asks as she sets Beth down on to the swing next to Quinn, instructing the girl to hold on tight to the chains.
“No. I have children. Chances are I’ll be coming to parks very often. I meant taking a day off. Doing something for myself.” Rachel puts her hands over Beth’s, clutching the chains in her own hands so that when she swings the little girl forward, she doesn’t fly off. “Once Noah comes home, I’ll be back to being Mrs. Puckerman until I die.”
Rachel glances at her sadly as she pushes Beth. “You don’t know that Quinn. Women are always advancing in the world. We can vote here after all. And I happen to think that even though women are dutiful wives like yourself, they aren’t happy with that. I’ll bet you that women will start doing more things for themselves very soon.”
Quinn takes her feet off the ground, causing her to swing opposite of Beth. “I don’t think so Rachel. We’re in the middle of a war. Once our men come home we’ll be expected to pop out even more babies than before. And who has to take care of the children? Certainly not the men.”
“I don’t think that’s very fair,” Rachel replies as Quinn settles her feet on the grass below her once again.
“None of it is fair Rachel but it’s how it is.” Quinn shrugs because she really has come to accept this. Rachel has done her best to bring out another side of her and she’s realized that there is more to her. Quinn would love to just decide in the middle of cooking dinner that she doesn’t want to cook and go and read a book. Or just get in a car and drive as far away as possible. Maybe head east to New York and see everything there or maybe head all the way west to California and dip her feet in the ocean. But that will never happen (partly because she doesn’t even know how to drive which is why Noah’s truck has been sitting in the driveway collecting dust) since her life is here and Noah would never be able to handle everything on his own. And then, of course, there is always what her parents would think of her. She’s fairly certain her father would disown her again and her mother would tell her that she isn’t acting like a woman at all.
She does loves the people who are in her life (like her husband and daughter) but she’s far from content with it. She doesn’t like cleaning but she does it because she is rather cleanly and it’s expected from her. She doesn’t like cooking but how else would her family eat? She doesn’t like never leaving the house unless it’s to go to a store or church but she has too many other responsibilities. And she really hates that she still continues to put on a happy face when she feels like screaming. But, at this very moment in time, she can’t do anything about it. She wouldn’t abandon her family like Noah’s father did and besides, what would she do if she left anyway? She’s not educated and she’s never worked a day in her life. She’d never be able to support herself and being alone has never suited Quinn. “I think Beth will be able to do more than us though.”
Her daughter is so unbelievably independent and now that Quinn has given in to this (though her daughter is barely the tender age of two), her relationship with Beth is much better than it was before. The little girl still throws fits, after all, what child doesn’t? But now that Quinn has allowed the girl to walk more and wander around the house to discover new things, Beth doesn’t fight her. Now, bath time is easy and putting the girl to bed is almost a walk in the park. “Beth is going to be the one who shakes things up when she’s older.”
Rachel lets out a small laugh. “You’ll be a heartbreaker too won’t you Beth?” The tiny blonde looks up and Rachel smiles. “You’re going to travel everywhere and leave a bunch of poor boys in your wake. And who knows? Maybe you’ll become a famous dancer or you’ll run for office. Either way, you’re going to do amazing things aren’t you? You won’t get stuck in some mundrum life.”
Beth tilts her head in a confused manner before looking out at the park around her. Quinn sighs and lets herself swing once more before she gets up (she’s much too afraid of falling to swing like she used to when she was a young girl). “It’s too late for me but Beth will make up for it.” Rachel goes back to swinging the small girl back and forth, loosening her hands once she’s sure Beth won’t let go as Quinn walks up beside her. “We’re all going to be okay right?”
Rachel turn her head to look at Quinn wearily. The blonde knows that everything is going to be different (their men will return home and the baby will be here soon) and that everything they’ve done these past few months won’t matter anymore. Quinn will go back to her mundane life that she’ll accept but won’t like and Rachel will have to decide whether or not she’ll continue her life with Finn. But at the end of the day, they’ll be okay… At least, Quinn hopes they’ll be.
“Yes…” Rachel clears her throat and refocuses on pushing Quinn’s daughter on the swing. “We’ll all be okay.”
--
There is absolutely nothing unusual about this morning. She wakes up shortly before Beth, her back aching from her large stomach and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. It’s getting warmer already and even though it’s only June, the extra weight she’s carrying makes her feel like she’s on fire most of the day. She goes into the bathroom and washes her face before brushing her teeth. She goes back in to her room and sits down at her vanity to get ready for the day. She puts on a little make up (she has no plans of going anywhere today but still, a Fabray woman must always look put together) and then does her hair. She finishes buttoning her dress just as Beth wakes up and Quinn picks up her daughter and takes her down stairs.
By the time they reach the bottom of the stairs, Beth is itching to get out of Quinn’s arms and the young mother sets her down as soon as they step off the stairs. Beth goes over to her toys in the living room, picking up one of her dolls as she yawns, still more than a little tired. Quinn opens the front door and picks up the morning paper just like she’s done every day for the past two years. From there she heads into the kitchen, calling for Beth to follow her. Normally, she’d get started on breakfast but as she’s taking some oats out of the canister on the counter, she can’t help but look at the still folded paper on the table. She sets down her measuring cup, wiping her hands on her dress (she can hear her mother now saying just how unladylike that was) as she walks over to the table. She taps her painted nails on the wood nervously before she flips the paper open quickly.
Something big happened a few weeks back in Europe and there were an enormous amount of casualties on both sides, so many that the paper said that there were hundreds of bodies that were yet to be identified yet. Each evening she and Rachel would read over the list, both releasing a sigh of relief when they didn’t see any names they recognized. Today though, Quinn can’t wait for Rachel. For some reason she needs to look at the list now and she takes a look at Beth who smiles at her before turning to the page with the list of fallen soldiers.
She scans the list once, hand nervously playing with the cross around her neck as she looks for ‘Puckerman’. She looks over it twice and when she doesn’t see her husband’s name, she lets out a sigh of relief. Another day alive. For now at least.
She exhales again with her whole body and turns to go make breakfast when she sees it out of the corner of her eye.
HUDSON, F.
She snatches up the newspaper, making sure that she’s not mixing up two different lines, that it’s not some different Hudson from Lima, Ohio. She even goes as far to make sure that she hasn’t accidentally started reading the wounded list before she drops the paper again.
She wasn’t misreading anything.
Finn Hudson was dead.
Author: only_because3 or jeytonbrucasnaley @ fanfic.net
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel, Quinn/Puck, Rachel/Finn (though the last two are only mentioned thus far)
Length: 9598
Rating: I'll bump it up to R for this one (since I do use a very negative term in it)
Summary: AU Set in the 1940s. “Have you ever thought about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t had Beth? What you’d be doing now if we hadn’t met?”
Author's Note: Hello hello! So sorry for the delay! School started back up and I ended up adding a lot more to this chapter than I originally anticipated. Again, I tried to get everything as historically accurate as possible but I know I've probably fallen a little short. Thanks to Az for reading this over for me and I hope you're all having a wonderful Valentine's Day and enjoy!
Saturdays are perhaps Quinn’s favorite day of the week. Rachel doesn’t have to work and she doesn’t have to run off to church like she has to on Sundays, so they spend the whole day together. Rachel will try fruitlessly all morning to get Quinn to stop cleaning and eventually she gives up. But then before Quinn knows it, Rachel’s right beside her, weeding one half of the garden or taking down the curtains that Quinn plans to wash while the blonde dusts the fireplace. She always makes it so that by the afternoon, Quinn is forced to relax because all her chores were done.
On this particular Saturday, Beth is asleep in her room when they finish up the laundry. The two women stand on either side of Quinn’s bed, a new clean white sheet in her hands. She tosses one side to Rachel, wincing briefly as she bends forward to do it.
“Quinn, go sit down! I told you that if you’re in pain you need to stop what you’re doing and leave whatever you need done for me.” Rachel drops her side of the sheet and crawls across the mattress so she can take the sheet from the blonde.
“I’m pregnant Rachel. Something is always gonna hurt until I give birth.” Rachel shakes her head and gets off the bed. She puts her hand on the small of Quinn’s back, leading her over to the chair at her vanity.
“I wish you’d let me do your chores Quinn. You know I don’t mind it.” Rachel makes quick work of putting the sheet on the bed, something that recently has been taking Quinn a minute or two to do. It’s not that she’s so pregnant that she’s useless (she’s only halfway through her second trimester). Her belly is barely in the way but her back aches from everything she does all day. Between lifting Beth up and down, washing dishes, and gardening, she’s surprised her back hasn’t broken yet! But if there’s one thing Quinn hates to be considered is useless and so she shakes her head adamantly.
“I’m perfectly capable of putting a new sheet on the bed. I’m perfectly capable of doing a lot of things.”
Rachel nods as she tosses the blanket on to the bed, tucking the ends under the mattress. “I know you are liebling but you don’t have to do everything. Like tending to your garden.” Quinn busies herself with putting everything back in order on her desk, yawning right before she’s about to protest. “And I know that that is something you have to do each day. Gardens are a lot of work and a large portion of your meals are growing out there. But that’s something you can leave for me to do. It leaves you in pain on almost every part of your body and that’s not healthy for you or the baby, nor is it beneficial to Beth to have you all achy.” She grabs the pillows from the trunk at the foot of the bed and slips them into their new cases. “Look at how tired you are. You’re doing too much Quinn.”
She shakes her head, spinning a perfume bottle on its edge as she yawns again. “I haven’t been sleeping very well, that’s all. And shouldn’t I get used to being tired? There is going to be a newborn in the house soon enough.”
“That means you should be getting as much rest as you can now,” Rachel replies, walking over to the blonde. Quinn turns in her seat, setting her perfume back in line with the others. Rachel sighs and cups Quinn’s cheek. “We’re all done with chores. How about you lay down for a little while?”
“But what will you do? And what if Beth wakes up?” Rachel’s hand drops and trails its way down Quinn’s arm before it grabs on to her wrist.
“I’ll read or something. And if Beth wakes up, then I’ll entertain her while you sleep.” She tugs on Quinn’s wrist until she stands up and then she takes her over to the bed.
Quinn sighs but gets on the bed anyway, turning to grab Rachel’s wrist just as she’s about to walk away. “Stay with me for a bit?” She nods and sits down at the foot of the bed before scooting closer once Quinn’s settled. It takes her a while to get comfortable and while she normally can’t stand to lay on her back, it’s the only thing that, for now, helps her whole body relax. Rachel takes her shoes off for her and then begins massaging them even though Quinn tells her time and time again that she thinks her feet are appalling.
“You have very cute feet. And they do so much that they deserve a massage every once in a while,” Rachel replies and Quinn lets out a breath before letting her eyes close. It’s silent for quite some time (she only realizes this because the clock downstairs chimes twice and then once more 30 minutes later) before Rachel speaks again. “Quinn?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever thought about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t had Beth? What you’d be doing now if we hadn’t met?” Quinn opens her eyes, an eyebrow arched in confusion and question. “Never mind. That was a stupid question.”
Quinn shakes her head. “Come here,” she says softly, motioning for Rachel to come lay by her. “It’s not a stupid question at all.” She takes her hand as soon as she can, her thumb running over tan skin slowly, drinking in the question. “If I hadn’t had Beth I don’t think I’d be here… I certainly wouldn’t be with Noah.”
“Why do you say that? You love him don’t you?”
She smiles softly and nods. “I do. But a lot of that came from having Beth. Noah was never supposed to be around for very long. At least not in a romantic manner.”
Rachel squeezes her hand and stays silent for a while. She keeps her gaze on Quinn’s stretched stomach and she notices that the blonde’s breathing has evened out. She glances up at her face and is met with closed eyes. “What if you hadn’t met me,” she whispers, brown eyes falling back to swollen abdomen.
“I wouldn’t be half as happy as I am now,” Quinn murmurs, slowly shifting her weight as she turns on to her side. Rachel looks at her small smile and tired eyes blinking at her in long spaces. Her free hand comes up to cup Rachel’s cheek, smiling a little wider when the brunette leans into her touch. She runs her thumb over tan skin before letting her hand fall away, fingers lightly tracing her lips before the touch disappears and Quinn’s eyes close again.
Rachel spends the duration of Quinn’s nap with her fingers ghosting over her lips, committing the feeling to her memory.
--
Sunday is the only day Quinn sees her father. It’s common for her mother to stop by during the week, even more common for her sister to stop by, but this church is the only place besides his house that she’s seen her father for the past two years.
He nods at her politely as she sits down at the end of the pew, Beth already squirming to get to her grandfather. Quinn sighs tiredly before she releases her daughter, Beth walking unsteadily to Russell’s outstretched arms. Instead of his usual stony façade, he smiles widely at the little girl who looks exactly like his ruined daughter. Quinn is pretty sure she and Noah would’ve been shit out of luck had Beth looked anything like him; she’s certain her parents only help them because they think they can fix the mistakes they made with her via Beth.
The service doesn’t start for another ten minutes which means she’s left with talking to various members of the congregation (all of whom will eye her stomach cautiously before asking about Beth) and probably have the talk with her father that she’s been dreading.
When her sister came over yesterday, she mentioned that Daddy was trying to reconfigure the finances so that he could make sure everyone didn’t feel the pinch of rationing. Her sister’s voice had a bit of bite to it then but Quinn simply asked her if she wanted anymore tea. She knows that her sister hates how much their parents help them out and how very little they do for her sister’s family. Quinn’s tried to explain that even if she did want the help (which she by no means ever asked for monetary help without the intention of paying them back), their situations are very different (Leah’s husband has a wealthy family himself and owns two grocery stores. Plus, her sister doesn’t have any children). But Leah just goes into a rant about how selfish Quinn is.
Whatever the case, she doesn’t want to talk to her dad ever. The last time they had a conversation that extended beyond polite ‘hello’s and Sunday lunch chit chat (which doesn’t include actual important things and never includes Noah) was when she needed to borrow $200 because Noah dropped his paycheck on the way home from work. He hadn’t even realized it until he got home and without that money they weren’t going to be able to pay for anything they needed that month. Her father yelled at her for an hour, screaming about how she had ruined her life by sinning with that kike and how much of a complete screw up was. He gave her the money eventually and when she finally got back home she cried for three hours (and had to force Noah to stay home and not go over to her parents’ and mess things up even more).
“Quinnie.” She blinks twice, breaking her blank gaze at the altar before turning to Mrs. Whitman. She smiles widely at the old woman, moving Beth’s coat and her purse to her lap so that she can sit down.
“How are you Mrs. Whitman,” Quinn asks as the woman shakes her head at the freed seat. Mrs. Whitman worked at the library Quinn used to frequent before she got pregnant and never treated Quinn any different when her stomach started to swell.
“Tired, naturally,” she says with a wink. “My grandson is waiting for me at my usual spot so I can’t sit.” Quinn glances back a few rows and waves at the eight year old boy who blushes before waving back. “I just wanted to give these to you. I started working on them when I noticed your belly and finally finished them this week.” She hands over a stack of three knitted blankets, all of the colors neutral (green, yellow, and white). Quinn’s smile takes up her entire face as she unfolds the blankets to look at them carefully.
“Thank you so much! These are beautiful.”
“You’re very welcome m’dear. I made Beth three and so it’s only fair I make three for this baby.” The people around them start settling into their seats and Mrs. Whitman pats her on the shoulder. “I better go sit down. Congratulations again dear!”
Quinn folds the blankets neatly as her father sits down next to her, Beth perched on his knee. “Are you doing anything after church Quinn?” This is his backwards way of telling her she’ll be staying to talk to him.
“Nothing that can’t be done a little later Dad.”
He doesn’t smile, just gives her a curt nod before turning his attention to the altar.
--
When they all exit the chapel, Beth now in Judy’s arms, her father holds his arm out for her like the nice gentleman everyone thinks he is. She loops her arm through his, sighing inwardly was she watches her mother walk off with her daughter. “Do you know when Noah’s supposed to return,” he asks, waving at the preacher and his wife as they walk by.
“I’m not sure… It was a draft Daddy.” He glares down at her, upset with the way she answered. “Shouldn’t we sit down? The doctor says it’s bad for you to be standing for long periods of time and you’ve already done so much today.”
“I can handle a short walk Quinnie.” She glances down at his left leg, eyeing the way he limps carefully. Her father has a habit of going past his limit (hence the bullet that’s still rolling around somewhere near his knee cap) and her mother would kill her if he collapsed at church. “My point was that you have another baby on the way and Noah’s wages barely cover your family now. How’re you going to pay for another mouth to feed? Another back to clothe?”
“I can scrimp in certain places. I’ll start growing some more vegetable and Beth can do with the toys she has. I’ll be able to manage until Noah gets back.” She tucks her hair behind her ears after her father drops her arm.
“I’m not going to let you scrimp Quinn, even if this was avoidable,” he says once he stands to face her. “How much more a month will you need?”
“I don’t need money Daddy. I don’t even need what you’re giving me now.”
“An extra $50? $70?” He never hears anything she says.
“Daddy I don’t need it.” He shakes his head and reaches into his coat pocket. He tears off the check he already wrote up and holds it out. She stares at it blankly for a moment, only taking it when her father grunts and looks at her sharply. “Thank you,” she lies, holding the paper in her hands delicately even though she wants nothing more than to crumple it.
“C’mon. Your mother’s making pot roast for lunch.” Quinn nods, following behind her father like the dutiful daughter she still is. She idly wonders if she’ll ever be able to stand up to her parents. She has a very strong feeling that she’ll always be some how indebted to them, whether they continue to provide her with monetary support or not.
After all, her father is a man who looks after and keeps his own in line (a line that is thin and straight and so it is very easy to become misguided) forever. All the Fabray women have gone off the path he’s set for them before (her mother with her cooking, her sister being barren, and Quinn herself with the babies and Jewish husband) and she notices as he takes Beth from her mother’s arms, that he’s trying just as hard to make Beth perfect. She’s predisposed to amount to nothing in her father’s eyes, what with her father being Jewish and, for lack of a better word, complete screw up, but he thinks that with the right amount of guidance, she’ll surpass all the other women in her father’s life. She’ll grow to be the perfect woman, the perfect wife, one who will wait until proper age to marry and remain pure till then. She’ll bear gorgeous children who will all be Catholic (because, in Russell’s eyes, there is no way that Beth will be raised in a predominately Jewish way nor would she attempt that with her own children) and never disappoint Grandpa Fabray.
She watches as Russell lectures Beth who had been fighting to be put down. There are tears on the little girl’s cheeks and Quinn sighs as she tightens her grip on the gloves in her hands. Her daughter isn’t even two and Russell is already molding her into something Quinn would never expect of her. Beth is already so vastly different from the people around her. She listens to no one and is the most independent person Quinn has ever encountered that she can’t even picture Beth as a housewife. She can’t picture Beth even considering the life Quinn’s come to live.
She wonders how long it will take her father to realize this.
--
To say Quinn is miserable would be an understatement. For whatever reason, this pregnancy is hard on her body, ten times harder than when she was pregnant with Beth. Rachel keeps telling her it’s going to be a boy and that’s why he’s so active and she’s so tired.
Whatever the case, Quinn is tired and all around run down by the time she enters her 6th month. Rachel’s been doing what she can after work and some days, Quinn will open the door and find Carol on her doorstep. “Rachel told me you’ve been feeling more tired than normal lately so I thought I’d bring you lunch and maybe get some things done around the house so you can rest.” Quinn always smiles gratefully and accepts the lunch before sending Carol home. Rachel always lectures her for not letting Carol help clean but then Quinn points out that by bringing by lunch, Quinn didn’t have to cook or clean up dishes which is enough help for her.
Rachel shakes her head every night when she comes home from work. “One of these days I’m going to tie you to a chair so you’ll take a day off,” she says as Quinn watches her from the doorway of the bathroom. Rachel scrubs away at her face over the sink and when she’s finally clean, she takes one of the dresses she’s come to leave at the house from Quinn.
“I’m fine Rachel.”
But with each passing day, it gets harder for her to do certain things. Gardening is out of the question now and she can’t get to any cleaning that needs to be done in any high places. And so more and more she relinquishes some of her duties to Rachel so that she can elevate her swollen feet for a little while.
Today, she decides to take an extra long bath since Rachel is here to clean up dinner and do all the cleaning Quinn didn’t get to. Beth’s already in bed, she’s been stubbornly fighting off a cold and so she fell asleep quickly after dinner, but she still has the bathroom door cracked in case her daughter wakes up.
Quinn lets out a breath, sitting up a little straighter in the tub so that her back rests flat against the wall of the bath. She looks down at her large stomach that is slowly gaining dark stretch marks. The ones she had left over from Beth hadn’t been too horrible, only a few silvery lines running from her belly button to the top of her pelvis and one or two on the left side of her stomach. But now that her stomach is being stretched again, the once faint lines are getting darker and wider, marring her pale skin with deep reddish brown streaks. She tilts her head to the side as she runs her index finger over each line, shivering when she trails down the path toward her pelvis.
With her first pregnancy, everything was a little easier. She lived with the Puckermans until about a month before she gave birth. The only thing she really did all day was cook (Mrs. Puckerman was appalled when she came in to the house and told her she couldn’t cook. “There is no way you’re going to be able to take care of a family without knowing how to make something,” she exclaimed as she dragged Quinn into the kitchen) and do very minimal housework. She honestly spent most of her day walking Noah’s sister Jenna to and from school and then helping her with her school work once they got home. Every night she would do the dinner dishes and clean the room she shared with Noah. Compared to everything she does now, she might as well have been spending her entire first pregnancy in bed.
And it helped that Noah was always there. He was there to rub her feet or make her laugh or sneak some pork into the house for her. He would help her in and out of the tub once she got too big (or whenever he wanted an excuse to see her naked). He would always sing to her belly which would make her feel less shitty about the situation they were in and he told her ‘I love you’ every single day (which was the first time that’d ever happened to her in her entire 16 years of life).
She sighs heavily, letting herself sink further into the now warm water. She misses her husband. She’s tired of not having him here to take care of her and she feels guilty that Rachel’s become her savior of sorts because she can’t handle family life without a husband. Oh gosh does she feel guilty for doing this to Rachel. The brunette is still so young and deserved to go out and do fun things. She deserved to spend her Saturdays going to the movies or taking a walk in the park. She deserved to go to the beach or travel or just do something fun without always worrying if Quinn was alright or if she was working herself too hard. For goodness sakes, Rachel comes over after a long day at work to help Quinn do things she’s simply too tired to do. She loves that Rachel cares enough to do that for her (lord knows that not a lot of people actually care for Quinn) and she’s almost considered telling her not to bother with some of the house work. But Quinn knows it’ll only bother her if everything isn’t dusted or if the laundry doesn’t get done the day it gets dirty. And so she’s stuck in this in between area where she doesn’t know what she should do and what she shouldn’t.
She knows that even if Noah was here, she’d still be doing the bulk of the housework (her husband was a wonderful man and helped out occasionally but never to the extent that Rachel does) which makes her even more thankful than she already is for the new brunette in her life. But the simple act of having Noah close, she realizes now, calms her down and relaxes her. She never realized just how much she leaned on him and needed him before now. It almost makes her feel guilty for all those times she yelled at him for continuously messing everything up and the fact that she’s been watching Rachel a lot more closely than she should.
Quinn sighs and slouches slightly, sinking into the water a little further. When she was pregnant with Beth, Noah touched her constantly. He would rest his hands on her stomach and press into it, hoping to get a reaction out of the baby in her belly. He would hold her hand every where they went, squeezing it tightly whenever they would pass by girls who would whisper and giggle about Quinn. And at night when the day was over, he’d strip her of her dress and spend hours touching every inch of her pregnant body. Now that he’s gone, her body aches, not only from exertion, but from the need to be touched.
Which brings her back to Rachel.
Before she ever met Rachel, Quinn had never thought of other girls in the manner in which she is now. She’d never let her eyes wander when her friends would change during slumber parties yet she’s caught herself on more than one occasion looking at Rachel. First it had been the evening in her sewing room and then when Rachel started changing out of her work clothes, Quinn would find herself lingering outside the bathroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of the brunette in a state of undress. Of course, Quinn would eventually realize what she was doing, mutter a few Hail Marys under her breath, and go back to whatever she was doing before. But that didn’t change the fact that Quinn wanted to see Rachel in a manner that was much more than friendly or the fact that many nights Quinn would lay down, wishing with all her might that Noah or Rachel was there to touch her.
There’s a knock on the door and Quinn quickly scoops some water into her hands, wetting her face so that it looks a little less like she was crying (she hadn’t even realized that she started crying) . “Come in,” she says and Rachel slips into the bathroom, two clean towels in her arms.
“I brought you some fresh towels and your robe,” she says with a small smile, setting them on the bench just behind the tub.
“Thank you.” She glances at Rachel over her shoulder and it’s then that her smile drops.
“Were you crying?”
Quinn shakes her head as she pushes herself up, sitting up straight once again. “I’m just hormonal and thinking too much. I’m fine.”
“You say that much too often for it to be true Quinn,” Rachel says softly and Quinn turns her head around so that she can no longer see the brunette. Carefully, she sits down on the bench behind Quinn, tan hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “Is this okay?” Quinn chews on her bottom lip as she nods, shivering slightly when Rachel’s hands spread over her shoulders, thumbs digging in to the knot she has in between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just all over the place.”
“Is it about Noah,” Rachel asks, smiling slightly when she feels Quinn go slack under her fingers.
“Partly… It’s strange not being able to touch him or talk to him or do anything with him.” She laughs a little, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “You know, before he left, I would think of what it would be like if he were gone and I’d actually smile at all the possibilities. And I blamed him a lot for everything that happened. Even things that weren’t his fault. Doesn’t that make me such a horrible person?”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t make you a horrible person. You just didn’t know how to handle everything that was happening to you. Your parents kicked you out, you couldn’t finish school, your friends abandoned you.” She moves Quinn’s wet hair over her shoulder as her hands move to tend to the rest of her shoulders.
“He’s such a good man though… I don’t think I ever really realized it until now. He’s been wonderful to me and Beth. He’s an amazing father and he genuinely loves me…” She tilts her head slightly, moving her gaze from the plain white wall in front of her to the open window next to the sink. “I love him too but sometimes I wonder if I really do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I really loved Noah until after Beth was born and even then, I wasn’t too sure. And now, now that he’s gone I miss him so much and I worry every time that when I read the paper, his name is going to be on the list of the dead. But at the same time, I remember everything I lost because I slept with him and now you’re here and I’m just…” She trails off and Rachel’s hands still. She lets out a breath, Rachel squeezing her shoulders as she lifts the plug of the tub with her toes, letting the water slip down the drain. “The water’s gone cold.”
Rachel stands up and gets ready to leave in order to give Quinn her privacy when the blonde catches her arm, a small “Eep!” escaping Quinn’s lips. She turns around to see the blonde crouched over awkwardly, the hand that’s not on Rachel’s arm clutching desperately to the lip of the tub, one of Quinn’s legs stretched near the drain. “Quinn!” She retraces her steps and grabs on to Quinn’s arms tightly. “This is why I don’t like you taking baths when you’re home alone. You could’ve fallen and hurt yourself and the baby.” She finds her footing again, and stands up, clearly embarrassed.
“This is the first time I’ve slipped. And I honestly should’ve planted my feet better before I started to get out,” she says, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Rachel helps her step out of the tub, her eyes remaining on Quinn’s face as she does. Once her feet are securely on the tile ground, Rachel lets go of her, instead grabbing Quinn’s robe before holding it open for her. “You do too much for me.” She turns back around and Rachel shakes her head, tying Quinn’s robe securely over her stomach.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she says brightly, smiling as she pushes Quinn’s hair behind her ears. “You are a wonderful person and you love your husband and your daughter. You’re much too hard on yourself sometimes.” She hands Quinn a towel to dry her hair with before giving Quinn some time to herself.
--
They’re in the living room, Quinn on the couch with the curtains in her lap and Rachel at the fireplace, dusting the mantle. She notices the brunette slow down as she runs an old rag over Quinn’s wedding photo. “You don’t look very happy in this,” Rachel observes and Quinn sighs as she threads the metal rod through the curtain loops. Honestly, neither one in the photo looked happy. Noah looked clearly irritated with his jaw locked and an overall pissed off expression on his face. Quinn herself was practically frowning, her arm looped half-heartedly with Noah’s.
“I wasn’t. My parents had just started talking to me a few days prior, Noah was fighting with his mother because we weren’t having a Jewish wedding, my dad was upset that we weren’t being married by a Catholic priest, Beth was dancing on my bladder, and Jenna had stomped on the pastor’s foot so he was hopping in pain behind my mother as she took the picture.”
Rachel lets a small smile play on her face as she sets the picture back on the mantle. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a big wedding. Your family seems like the type to insist it.”
“Well they didn’t want very many people to know I was already pregnant and, by that point, there really wasn’t any hiding it. Though my parents did briefly bring it up and I refused to have an entirely Catholic wedding because it wasn’t fair to Noah and his family. So everyone just sort of settled on finding anyone who would marry us and a dinner at my parents’ house.” Quinn’s hands pause, thinking back to the equally horrible dinner. Her mother made ham, her father threw the mashed potatoes out, Mrs. Puckerman kept complaining about how much of a mistake this was, and Jenna and Nana Puckerman were chatting to one another in Yiddish loudly. “The only part of my wedding day that I actually look back on in fondness is that night. I could’ve done without the rest.”
Rachel finishes wiping down the mantle and then goes to sit beside Quinn, tossing the dirty rag on to the side table. “I’m sorry your wedding day was crummy. At least Noah made it worth it.”
Quinn ducks her head down a bit, her hair falling over her shoulders and hiding the light blush on her face. “Noah is quite good when it comes to things like that. Well… that really should be obvious now shouldn’t it?” She pats her rounded stomach as she hands Rachel one of the finished curtain rods.
“Was it different,” Rachel asks softly, causing Quinn to look up at her with an arched brow. “The sex. Was it different from when you were dating?” The blonde swallows hard, left hand going up to fiddle with her cross, her blush now evident on her cheeks. “Is that something I’m not supposed to ask about?”
Quinn shakes her head, fingers running over the smooth metal against her chest. “I, um… no. I mean, I had friends who would sort of talk about these sort of, um, things. But I never… This isn’t really something I was raised to be vocal about… This is what my mother would consider unladylike.”
“My sincere apologies Quinn. I’m much too curious for my own good. It’s just that so many women still wait until they’re married to experience that and the ones that don’t, don’t really talk about the fact that they didn’t wait.” She takes another rod from Quinn, easing on to her tiptoes carefully, trying not to depress the couch cushions too much.
It’s silent for a moment or two, Quinn threading the final curtain rod for the living room while Rachel puts them back up. “That time was different,” she whispers, voice cracking slightly.
“What?”
She clears her throat as Rachel sits back down carefully. “That night was different. Before that it was always nice, I suppose. We didn’t do that a lot, though as my pregnancy furthered it did become a bit, more, um, frequent. And ever since we got married it’s been wonderful as well. I’m sure my mother would call it excessive, but it’s never been like that,” Quinn answers, trying with all her might to keep a smile off her face. “That day was so horrible and, without me having to say a word, Noah took my hand and led me out of the house, to his truck, and to his mother’s house. He locked us in, closed every curtain and we made love for hours.” She shrugs slightly and releases a long breath. “He promised me that our new family would be ten times better than our old ones and that we would be a million times happier. He’d told me all that before and has since but I think the only time I’ve ever believed him was that night.”
“That sounds wonderful Quinn,” Rachel responds, letting her hand fall on the blonde’s knee before she gives it a small squeeze. “You are very lucky to have a man like Noah.”
A guarded smile finds its way on to her face as she places her hand on top of Rachel’s, lacing their fingers together. “Rachel… Why did you start dating Finn?” She’s asked before and has only been met with silence, the brunette eventually clearing her throat and changing the subject. But Quinn is so unbelievably curious about Rachel’s relationship with the man who saved her that she can’t help herself from asking more and more about him.
“I don’t really want to talk about that.” Rachel untangles herself from Quinn and grabs the laundry basket that sits on the opposite side of the blonde’s legs. She walks into the formal dining room and begins pulling out the curtains that hang over the large window as Quinn follows her.
“Why won’t you ever talk about Finn like I talk about Noah,” she asks, leaning into the door frame as her arms cross above her stomach. Rachel always mentions Finn briefly, much like her family, and when she does go a little bit more in depth, she always seems to be critiquing the tall man. As a matter of fact, the most she’s ever heard about Finn was when she went over to Carol’s for dinner.
“I don’t want to talk about this Quinn,” Rachel answers, her voice void of any sing-song quality it had before. She focuses on getting the curtains back on the rod as Quinn moves closer to her. She stops beside the brunette, stretched stomach barely skimming the side of Rachel’s dress.
“I don’t want to upset you Rachel,” she says softly, bringing a hand up to push Rachel’s unrestricted hair behind her ear. “I just want to know more about you… More about what you were like before I met you. And I want to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable by how much I talk about Noah. I just…” She trails off because she’s not sure she knows what she’s trying to say. It has been blindingly obvious to Quinn since that day at the train station that she likes Rachel much more than she should. It’s not to say that Quinn hates how flustered she gets every time Rachel touches her or looks at her in a certain way, it’s just that Quinn doesn’t know what to make of it. Her entire life she’s been taught that men and women were made for one another and that anyone who did or believed otherwise, were sinners. And then of course there was Noah. It took a long time for Quinn to realize that she loved her husband but she knows that she does. She loves that man with all of her heart now. But she’s not really sure she can if she spends half her time thinking about Rachel in the way she thinks of him.
Quinn sighs, letting her hand drop to Rachel’s shoulder. She wants to know if Rachel is just as confused and lost in this as she is. “Will you tell me about Finn?”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable when you talk of Noah,” Rachel answers quietly, clearing her throat as she threads the second curtain on to the long rod. “I find it wonderful that you have him… I don’t talk about Finn because it makes me feel very guilty and I had enough of that when I was home. Jewish women will guilt you until you’re dead Quinn.” The corners of their lips turn upward before Rachel’s fall, her eyes focused on smoothing out the fresh curtains. “I only started dating Finn because I felt like I owed him that.” Quinn takes the fabric from Rachel’s hands silently, allowing the curtains to begin to wrinkle on the table while she turns Rachel to face her. “He saved me from this scary country and protected me every step of the way. He’s a wonderful boy but I don’t know if I necessarily liked him when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I know that I didn't want to be his girlfriend but how could I say no? He gave me everything I have. ”
Quinn rolls her eyes as her smile gets a little bigger. “Is that all? I’ve told you that I had no plans of staying with my husband when I was dating him and that it took me a very long time to love him.”
“It’s very different from what you and Noah have,” Rachel insists, hands coming up to rest on the stomach that’s nearly pressed against her. “I’m not even sure I love Finn now. He’s off risking his life, fighting people who would very much like to see me dead, and I have to sit here, knowing I lied to him when I told him I loved him!” Rachel turns away from Quinn, wiping her cheeks roughly before grabbing the curtain rod in her hands. She walks over to the window and steps on to the chair she left there, carefully placing the curtains back up. “Finn is an amazing man and I should love him. Did you know that every Friday he’d somehow have enough money to get us into a movie? I’m not quite sure how he always found the spare change to get us in but he did it because he knew how much I loved all the glamour of Hollywood… And at least once a week he’d bring Carol and me flowers… How can I not love that Quinn? Does that mean that there’s something wrong with me then?”
Quinn shakes her head sternly, walking over to Rachel and clutching on to the skirt of her dress. “Do not say things like that! There is nothing wrong with you Rachel. Not one damn thing is wrong with you and there never will be.” She tugs on the girl’s dress and backs up, allowing Rachel to step off the chair and get back on solid ground. “It’s okay that you don’t know if you love him,” she says, holding Rachel’s cheeks in her hands as her fingers work to brush away the fallen tears. “Though it might not be true, I think that Finn would have rather heard that than anything else before he left. Even if it was a lie.” Rachel sniffs and almost hiccups, trying to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. Quinn pushes her hair back once more, her hands coming to rest on the brunette’s neck. “Finn sounds ten times nicer than Noah was when we were dating.”
Rachel lets out a strangled laugh before she sniffs again. “Finn was raised to be a very polite gentleman.”
“So was Noah but he was every parent’s nightmare… Well, for my parents he might as well have been the Devil.” Rachel laughs again and a small smile returns to Quinn’s face. “Did you know that Noah has never brought me flowers?”
“Really?”
Quinn shakes her head. “Not once.” She lets her forehead fall against the other girl’s, closing her eyes and listening to the way Rachel’s breathing eventually evens out. When she reopens her eyes, she finds that Rachel’s are no longer filled with tears though they still remain red rimmed. “Why do you think you don’t love him? You’ve said before that you did… Love him, that is.”
“I’m perfectly content to leave him Quinn. He’s always encouraged me to pursue my singing dreams. He’s even told me that he thinks I’d be a wonderful actress. That I could be the next Betty Grable. But I know that’s not what he wants. He wants to stay here. Wants to stay by his mom and wants his kids to grow up in the same city that he did. I would never give my dreams up for him but I know he’d do it in a heartbeat for me. That sounds awfully one sided to me.”
“You said that you wouldn’t let him do that… That means that you love him dear. You would rather he be happy without you than miserable with you. To me, that’s love Rachel.”
“Then how come it doesn’t feel like I do,” she asks and the only thing Quinn can think to do is shrug. “Why is it that I don’t feel like I love him, but I think that I could love you?”
Quinn bites her lip. Never in her life has she been so relieved and so scared at the exact same time. She opens her mouth to say something, anything that has been on the tip of her tongue for months (like how she feels the exact same way as the brunette) but she can’t figure out the right thing to say so she decides for the second time in her life to take the first piece of advice Noah ever gave her. Don’t think, just do.
She brings Rachel towards her, hands clutching her nervously as she presses their lips together firmly before pulling Rachel’s bottom lip between hers. It is completely different from kissing Noah. Rachel’s lips are soft against hers and it takes the brunette a moment before she starts kissing back but she lets Quinn continue to take the lead, something Noah has never done.
Quinn pulls away first, breathing deep and blinking slowly as Rachel looks back at her with swollen lips. The blonde takes a step back and Rachel tries to catch the other girl’s arms before she can move too far away. Quinn fidgets nervously as she turns on her heels, leaving Rachel helplessly in front of the window. She glances at the grandfather clock and then looks past Rachel and out the window. “Let’s go do something fun,” she says uneasily, finally looking at Rachel who stares back at her wide eyed. Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes tear up again, her mouth opening to say something that is probably reminiscent of ‘That is what you have to say?’ Quinn shakes her head and takes Rachel’s hands in hers. “You’re always saying that I need to relax and do things for myself so lets do it. Let’s go to the park or go see a movie… Let’s have fun before the baby is born or I’m too tired to get off the couch.” She squeezes Rachel’s hands in emphasis and she watches as the other girl’s face relaxes. She’s still looking at Quinn like she doesn’t know what to make of this and the blonde sighs. “Please?”
Rachel turns to look out the window before she nods.
--
Quinn decides that Rachel wanted to see a movie for three reasons. One, Rachel has an almost unnatural obsession with Bette Davis. Two, she’s probably upset and confused about everything (something Quinn can’t fault her for at all since she was the one who made a mess of things). And three, she probably needs a pick me up after what happened in the house.
She sits uncomfortably next to Rachel who has Beth on her lap, both girls staring up at the screen with sparkling eyes. They both wear huge grins, something that makes Quinn smile despite the fact that the theater seats feel like they dig in to every part of her body.
She doesn’t actually watch most of the movie (she hadn’t even wanted to see it) and instead watches her girls’ reactions to everything that’s happening on the screen. Beth bounces up and down excitedly on Rachel’s lap when there’s dancing and Rachel sings along quietly in Beth’s ear during the musical numbers.
It’s when she’s watching them that she understands completely why Finn always took Rachel to the movies. The look Rachel gets on her face is probably the best thing in the world.
By the time the movie is over, Rachel is no longer wearing the indifferent face she wore on the walk to town, nor is she staying as far away from Quinn as possible without seeming rude. “That was an excellent movie,” she exclaims as they leave the theater, Beth squirming uncomfortably on her hip. “All the singing and dancing and wonderful clothes.” She sets Beth down and twirls her around. Quinn smiles down at her daughter who giggles and loses her balance after spinning which causes her to fall against her mother’s legs. She runs a hand through Beth’s curls which causes her to look up at Quinn with a smile.
“Would you like to walk,” Quinn asks and Beth nods excitedly as she pushes herself off of Quinn’s legs, both of her hands raised so that each woman can take one.
“Did you enjoy the movie Quinn?”
She glances over at Rachel who seems genuinely curious about what she thought. “I didn’t pay very much attention to it. The baby kept moving and I couldn’t get very comfortable.”
The brunette frowns as she takes Beth’s hand, the three of them beginning the walk down the street. “I didn’t even think about how uncomfortable it would be for you. I’m sorry Quinn. Had I realized that, I wouldn’t have even suggested it.”
Quinn shakes her head. “It was worth it to see you two. I swear you and Beth were making the same faces.”
Rachel lets a small smile creep on to her face and she tucks some hair behind her ear. “What would you like to do now? We’ve done something fun for Beth and I and this was an outing for you.”
“It’s nice to just be out. It’s a beautiful day what with the breeze and all.”
“Would you like to go to the park? Granted that’s really more for Beth than anything.”
Quinn looks down at her daughter who keeps her head down and hops over every crack they pass on the sidewalk. “I think that would be really nice. Maybe we can stop back at the house. I’ll make a few sandwiches and snacks and we can have a small picnic while we’re there?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea Quinn.” Rachel smiles and looks at her in that way she’d begin to before Quinn freaked out in the dining room. She looks at Quinn like she accepts and wants every part of her. It makes Quinn take a deep breath and feel everything swell up in her chest once more before she exhales.
--
“You know,” Quinn starts, easing herself on to a swing, her eyes studying the chains that will be holding her up carefully. Once she deems it safe enough to sit down without the structure crumbling under her weight, she looks back at Rachel and continues. “I’ll probably never do anything like this again.”
“Go to the park,” Rachel asks as she sets Beth down on to the swing next to Quinn, instructing the girl to hold on tight to the chains.
“No. I have children. Chances are I’ll be coming to parks very often. I meant taking a day off. Doing something for myself.” Rachel puts her hands over Beth’s, clutching the chains in her own hands so that when she swings the little girl forward, she doesn’t fly off. “Once Noah comes home, I’ll be back to being Mrs. Puckerman until I die.”
Rachel glances at her sadly as she pushes Beth. “You don’t know that Quinn. Women are always advancing in the world. We can vote here after all. And I happen to think that even though women are dutiful wives like yourself, they aren’t happy with that. I’ll bet you that women will start doing more things for themselves very soon.”
Quinn takes her feet off the ground, causing her to swing opposite of Beth. “I don’t think so Rachel. We’re in the middle of a war. Once our men come home we’ll be expected to pop out even more babies than before. And who has to take care of the children? Certainly not the men.”
“I don’t think that’s very fair,” Rachel replies as Quinn settles her feet on the grass below her once again.
“None of it is fair Rachel but it’s how it is.” Quinn shrugs because she really has come to accept this. Rachel has done her best to bring out another side of her and she’s realized that there is more to her. Quinn would love to just decide in the middle of cooking dinner that she doesn’t want to cook and go and read a book. Or just get in a car and drive as far away as possible. Maybe head east to New York and see everything there or maybe head all the way west to California and dip her feet in the ocean. But that will never happen (partly because she doesn’t even know how to drive which is why Noah’s truck has been sitting in the driveway collecting dust) since her life is here and Noah would never be able to handle everything on his own. And then, of course, there is always what her parents would think of her. She’s fairly certain her father would disown her again and her mother would tell her that she isn’t acting like a woman at all.
She does loves the people who are in her life (like her husband and daughter) but she’s far from content with it. She doesn’t like cleaning but she does it because she is rather cleanly and it’s expected from her. She doesn’t like cooking but how else would her family eat? She doesn’t like never leaving the house unless it’s to go to a store or church but she has too many other responsibilities. And she really hates that she still continues to put on a happy face when she feels like screaming. But, at this very moment in time, she can’t do anything about it. She wouldn’t abandon her family like Noah’s father did and besides, what would she do if she left anyway? She’s not educated and she’s never worked a day in her life. She’d never be able to support herself and being alone has never suited Quinn. “I think Beth will be able to do more than us though.”
Her daughter is so unbelievably independent and now that Quinn has given in to this (though her daughter is barely the tender age of two), her relationship with Beth is much better than it was before. The little girl still throws fits, after all, what child doesn’t? But now that Quinn has allowed the girl to walk more and wander around the house to discover new things, Beth doesn’t fight her. Now, bath time is easy and putting the girl to bed is almost a walk in the park. “Beth is going to be the one who shakes things up when she’s older.”
Rachel lets out a small laugh. “You’ll be a heartbreaker too won’t you Beth?” The tiny blonde looks up and Rachel smiles. “You’re going to travel everywhere and leave a bunch of poor boys in your wake. And who knows? Maybe you’ll become a famous dancer or you’ll run for office. Either way, you’re going to do amazing things aren’t you? You won’t get stuck in some mundrum life.”
Beth tilts her head in a confused manner before looking out at the park around her. Quinn sighs and lets herself swing once more before she gets up (she’s much too afraid of falling to swing like she used to when she was a young girl). “It’s too late for me but Beth will make up for it.” Rachel goes back to swinging the small girl back and forth, loosening her hands once she’s sure Beth won’t let go as Quinn walks up beside her. “We’re all going to be okay right?”
Rachel turn her head to look at Quinn wearily. The blonde knows that everything is going to be different (their men will return home and the baby will be here soon) and that everything they’ve done these past few months won’t matter anymore. Quinn will go back to her mundane life that she’ll accept but won’t like and Rachel will have to decide whether or not she’ll continue her life with Finn. But at the end of the day, they’ll be okay… At least, Quinn hopes they’ll be.
“Yes…” Rachel clears her throat and refocuses on pushing Quinn’s daughter on the swing. “We’ll all be okay.”
--
There is absolutely nothing unusual about this morning. She wakes up shortly before Beth, her back aching from her large stomach and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. It’s getting warmer already and even though it’s only June, the extra weight she’s carrying makes her feel like she’s on fire most of the day. She goes into the bathroom and washes her face before brushing her teeth. She goes back in to her room and sits down at her vanity to get ready for the day. She puts on a little make up (she has no plans of going anywhere today but still, a Fabray woman must always look put together) and then does her hair. She finishes buttoning her dress just as Beth wakes up and Quinn picks up her daughter and takes her down stairs.
By the time they reach the bottom of the stairs, Beth is itching to get out of Quinn’s arms and the young mother sets her down as soon as they step off the stairs. Beth goes over to her toys in the living room, picking up one of her dolls as she yawns, still more than a little tired. Quinn opens the front door and picks up the morning paper just like she’s done every day for the past two years. From there she heads into the kitchen, calling for Beth to follow her. Normally, she’d get started on breakfast but as she’s taking some oats out of the canister on the counter, she can’t help but look at the still folded paper on the table. She sets down her measuring cup, wiping her hands on her dress (she can hear her mother now saying just how unladylike that was) as she walks over to the table. She taps her painted nails on the wood nervously before she flips the paper open quickly.
Something big happened a few weeks back in Europe and there were an enormous amount of casualties on both sides, so many that the paper said that there were hundreds of bodies that were yet to be identified yet. Each evening she and Rachel would read over the list, both releasing a sigh of relief when they didn’t see any names they recognized. Today though, Quinn can’t wait for Rachel. For some reason she needs to look at the list now and she takes a look at Beth who smiles at her before turning to the page with the list of fallen soldiers.
She scans the list once, hand nervously playing with the cross around her neck as she looks for ‘Puckerman’. She looks over it twice and when she doesn’t see her husband’s name, she lets out a sigh of relief. Another day alive. For now at least.
She exhales again with her whole body and turns to go make breakfast when she sees it out of the corner of her eye.
HUDSON, F.
She snatches up the newspaper, making sure that she’s not mixing up two different lines, that it’s not some different Hudson from Lima, Ohio. She even goes as far to make sure that she hasn’t accidentally started reading the wounded list before she drops the paper again.
She wasn’t misreading anything.
Finn Hudson was dead.