my dirty little secret - part twelve
Title: My Dirty Little Secret
Author: kalexico
Rating: NC
Word Count: 3970
Summary: A surprising revelation
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part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight
part nine, part ten, part eleven
"Ezra, Parker, your mami would like to thank you very much for all the awesome sex you're getting her," Santana murmurs against my naked stomach.
I swat her head playfully. "You're going to have to learn to behave," I mockingly warn her. "Can't have you say such things when they're around, you know."
She lifts herself up and starts a promising kiss when the doorbell rings. We both groan and I have half a mind to tell her to just ignore it, but as I look into her eyes I can see we're thinking the same thing - we're too curious to just let this pass. There's also the fact that I suspect that she ordered some books on parenthood online and she always throws a fit when she has to go out to pick them up because she wasn't at home or didn't open the door.
She gets up, gives me a last peck on the lips and throws on a bathrobe as she make my way to front door. I sigh, stand up and follow her.
She doesn't even bother checking who it is first and buzzes them in. Soon after, there's a knock on the door.
She groans when she opens it and meets Kurt Hummel's overly excited face.
"What the fuck?" is her invitation for him to come inside.
"I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten about the Glee reunion next week! It's soon and I wouldn't want you to make any plans. I'm sure everyone is dying to hear about how you two - oh my god, I interrupted something, didn't I?" Kurt babbles, only noticing after a while that our disheveled look screams that we just got laid - and good.
Santana smirks and shrugs. "Gotta take care of a pregnant woman, lady lips."
"Oh God," Kurt mumbles, his cheeks flushed. "Okay. I gotta go then. Keep your schedules clear because I swear I will kill you if you don't show up at the reunion!"
Before either of us can stop him, he leaves. Santana closes the door behind him and leans against it. "Can't believe we got out of bed for that. As if we don't know he'd never relent and just keep organizing reunions until we show up to one of them."
I smile - besides me and the babies I'm carrying, there's nothing Santana loves more than sex and sleep. Kurt just kind of interrupted a mix of those.
"We have to get read to go and pick up Frannie anyway," I remind her. "It's not like we could have stayed in bed for that much longer."
"I hate it when you're right," she says, rolling her eyes and returning to the bedroom. I follow her and we get read in silence. I'm a bit nervous - it has been years since I last saw my sister. I wonder if she's changed much, what her life is like. I wonder if we will be able to talk to each other - after all, we did spend an awful lot of time hating each other.
The drive to the airport passes in silence. Santana knows that I'm nervous and that I prefer to be left alone with my thoughts. When we're standing still at the red lights, she takes my hand and squeezes it, offering me a small smile. I seriously lucked out with this woman.
When the airport building comes in sight, I can feel how my heart starts to beat faster. It's a good thing Santana knows all the details, because my mind is too clouded to be bothered by that right now.
What if she still hates me? But then she wouldn't come to visit me... what if Santana guilt tripped her? No, that's not her style. What if she threatened her? It isn't entirely impossible that she thought I wanted to see my sister and then called her with all kinds of threats...
"Santana?" I ask as she parks the car. My mouth is dry and my voice is trembling. "Did she want to come or did you force her to?"
She looks at me, taking me in for a few seconds before she answers. "I had to persuade her a bit, but I didn't force her. I just talked some sense into her, that's all. I think her initial objections were more of a reflex than anything else. Did you know that she was married?"
"Yes. I heard Dad mention it once, how it was a disgrace to the family."
"You and her are not that different, you know," Santana says as we get out of the car. "You both went out to do with your life what you wanted, despite what your parents want from you. You'll be fine. She's not going to kill you and I'm there so she'd be dead before she even had the chance to try."
I give her a weak smile and take her hand. We make our way to the arrivals and when we reach it, she kisses me softly and mutters: "You'll be alright."
Fifteen minutes later, people are coming out of the doors. I crane my neck in anticipation, suddenly worried that I won't even recognize her. That's of course absolutely ridiculous, but you never know since it has been so long.
The second I spot her, I know that I shouldn't have worried. She still looks exactly the same, but of course she has aged and looks more like a woman than a girl. Just as I want to tell Santana I saw her, she sees me and walks over to us. As she comes closer, I notice that her eyes are brimming with tears.
She immediately pulls me into a hug. It's a bit awkward because the Fabrays have never been very physical with each other - Santana is still about the only person I'm affectionate with. I return the hug nonetheless and feel Santana's reassuring hand on my lower back.
"Frannie," I say as she finally lets me go. "How are you?"
She cups my cheek and takes a long look. "I'm fine. But what about you? I can't believe this, Quinn. You've changed so much since I last saw you."
"I was fourteen," I shrug. I place my hand on my belly. "And as you can see, I'm doing great. We're having twins. A boy and a girl - Ezra and Parker. Do you have kids?"
"I have a son, Kyle and a daughter, Chloe. Kyle is ten and Chloe is six."
I hear a soft caugh and mentally slap myself. I wrap my arm around Santana's waist and pull her closer. "This is Santana, my wife," I say, unable to hide a hint of pride. After all this time, it still feels great saying it.
Frannie smiles at her. "I talked to her on the phone," she says, then addresses her. "I remember you. Jesus, how could I not? The two of you were attached to the hip. I shouldn't be surprised you ended up together. I'm sorry for my reaction on the phone, by the way. Of course I knew that the two of you were married, but I'd never talked to any of you since you were kids. I wasn't actually confronted with it. But I've had time to wrap my head around it." She turns back to me. "I only want you to be happy, Quinn. I'm sure mom would've been proud of you."
That's when I tear up and lean in for another hug. "You have no idea how much that means to me."
"I'm so sorry for the way things went," she sighs as we start moving towards the car park. "You'd think we would have teamed up, but we were always fighting as kids."
"I guess an age difference of four years isn't ideal when one is a teenager and the other is still really a kid - and then when one is about to get out of town and the other one is a stuck teenager. Where do you live these days?"
"In Chicago. I'm a mediator there. It's an interesting job."
Santana smiles. "I guess it runs in the family. Quinn's a lawyer."
Frannie looks surprised. "That's great, Quinn! What firm do you work at?"
We make some more small talk on the way to the car, catching up about jobs and relatived we've heard things about.
Santana proposed to have lunch at a small, cosy diner and Frannie and I instantly agree. Our love for bacon shows in our orders and Santana can't but shake her head at it. She's used to it by now.
We decide to head home for coffee. Frannie genuinely likes our apartment, despite the sometimes quirky art.
"This is a really nice place," she admits. "Who's the one that's into art?"
"That would be me. A few of our clients are in the business and we sometimes get invited to exhibitions or gallery openings. Most of these are gifts to the company, and they get distributed amongst the employees. I've really grown to like it."
She spots the disorganized small piles of books on the kitchen table and in the living room - and she hasn't even seen the small library in our bedroom, or in the guestroom. She lets out a lough as she reads the titles, most of which are on parenthood nowadays.
"Who bought of all these?" she asks, reading the back of a book she randomly picked up.
Santana blushes and is suddenly very interested in finding those cookies she brought for me the other day. "My lovely wife," I tease with a smirk. "She's got a bit of an OCD, she has to buy every book on the subject she can get her hands on."
"You don't need to worry so much, Santana," Frannie says. "It all comes naturally. I'm sure you'll find yourself selling all of these soon enough."
Santana is about to reply when her phone rings. She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Sorry, I have to take this," she says before going into another room.
Frannie and I go to the living room and sit down. It's hard to believe how much she's changed. She's much warmer than when we were kids, more cordial as well.
"Isn't it funny how we both ended up," I remark. "You with a black man, me with a hispanic woman. Maybe it's not a bad thing that Dad isn't in our lives anymore. He'd probably make snide remarks all the time, making us feel utterly worthless."
Frannie runs a hand through her long, blonde hair and sighs. "I said the same thing to Santana on the phone. I'm not going to lie to you, Quinn. When I first heard that you were getting married to a woman, I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. No matter how much I rebelled against mom and dad, I always stood by my faith. When Santana called me, I initially didn't feel much for visiting you. I still thought it was wrong and I simply didn't understand. But Santana talked some sense into me and I've talked to David about it too and he helped me come to terms with it. It sounds so silly in hindsight."
"How does it feel, being a mom?" I ask her softly.
"It's the best feeling in the world," she reassures me. "The days Kyle and Chloe were born are the best days of my lives - along with the day David and I first kissed and the day we got married. Too bad Dad was such a jerk on all of them. When I gave birth to my kids, I called him to let him know. I felt like they were his grandchildren after all, but he just insulted me and my husband and my children. I don't want them anywhere near him."
"I'm just so scared," I admit for the first time. "I'm so scared that I'll be just like Mom. That I'll be out of touch with them. That I'll have good intentions, but that I'll turn out not to understand them at all, or know how to be around them. I've never been good with kids, you know? Or with people."
"You're nothing like mom, Quinn. You're stronger than she is. You went after what you wanted. I have reasons to believe that mom was the way she was because of dad. Without him, she was a different person. He shaped her, she followed him. It was the easiest way to cope, I guess."
"What do you mean, you have reasons? And cope with what?" I ask, my heart beating fastly in my chest. What is she on about?
"We weren't in touch, so I never told you this, but when mom died I went back home to see if I could help. I actually told dad that he should call you as well, but he wouldn't allow you inside the house. Anyway, I found a box with letters and diaries in her closet. Long story short, mom was bisexual."
"What?" I ask in disbelief. "Frannie, what... how... what?"
"From the diaries and letters I gathered that she was together with a girl in college, but her parents didn't approve of homosexuality. She met dad first. He was everything her parents wanted for her and they adored him. It of course helped that his future was looking bright and he came from a good family. But she fell in love with her roommate and had an affair with him. Dad was livid when he found out. Desperate to reassure him, to please him, they had unprotected sex and she got pregnant with me. She broke it off with the girl and married dad."
I don't say anything. It's just too much to take in. After a struggle to come up with words, I rub my face and say: "I don't understand. Why didn't she tell me? When she found out about Santana and me - why didn't she tell me?"
"I think she was trying to forget it ever happened. It sounds like she loved this girl. But as I said, her parents didn't approve and we know how much of a bigot dad is. And she knew how happy her parents would be if she married him. You see, you're nothing like her."
"I was so desperate to please them," I whisper, my mind still blown. "I spent so much time trying to please them and it just - it was never enough. Nothing I did was ever good enough, and then Santana made me so happy and I just couldn't do it anymore. I had to get away from them." I look up at Frannie. "What was her name?"
"Shannon Beiste. Weird name, I know."
"I'm so sorry, babe," Santana begins as she enters the room. I look up at her, feeling a little sick. This is just - it's just so much to take in right now.
She hurries over to me. "Are you okay, Q? What's wrong?"
"My mom. She - she -" I shoot Frannie a begging glance, urging her to explain.
"Mom was together with a woman in college. Shannon Beiste." Frannie looks sympathetic, trying to understand how much it affects me - but I don't think she ever will. To think that she rejected me for loving Santana while she herself had - and coach Beiste? - and wait a second, that means that Coach Beiste must have known who my mom was. Why didn't she tell me?
"Hold up," Santana says. "Seriously? Judy Fabray and coach Beiste?"
Now Frannie looks confused. "Do you guys know her or something?"
"She was the football coach in high school," I nearly whisper. "She took over from coack Tanaka in junior year. Why didn't she ever - she must have known who I was, why didn't she ever tell me?"
Santana sits down. "Well, what was she supposed to say?"
"Mom also begged her to never tell anyone," Frannie offers. "Never."
Santana smiles sadly. "Coach Beiste would never betray her, or anyone. She's the sweetest woman. And you know, Q, maybe that was why your mom reacted that way. Maybe she saw what she had lost, she was reminded of what she had given up. Maybe she was even a bit jealous that you would get to lead the life she wanted. Add to that how she treated you for years, trying to shape you into the person her parents expected her to be as well, and then see herself failing like that..."
Finally, silent tears roll down my cheeks. "Oh god, I wish so much I could talk to her, figure out what that was all about. It's like - I thought I knew her so well - it's like suddenly, she's a different person."
"Maybe we could try to contact coach Beiste, ask her if she wants to talk about it?" Santana suggest.
I nod. "That sounds like a good idea. I'm sorry for the mood, Frannie. It's just that - wow. I'm still amazed. I would never have thought..."
"What is she like? Shannon?" Frannie asks, looking down at her hands.
"As Santana said - she's the sweetest woman. She really cares about people, wants to help them. People often judge her on her looks - she's a bit bulky. But she was a great coach. So different from dad. Like, they're almost opposites."
"Maybe that's why she married him, amongst other reasons. Because he was nothing like the one she really loved."
I nod again, not knowing what to say. Santana gives me a chaste kiss. "It'll be alright," she tells me softly.
Santana's POV
Frannie and I are doing the dishes. I insist Quinn doesn't, even though it won't harm her. I just like taking care of her and she knows how important it is to me sometimes. Especially at times like these, when she's shaken or down. She knows I feel a special need to look after her and protect her then. Other times, she'd probably fight me and get her way, like Frannie did now.
"Do you think we can come and visit you sometime?" I ask casually. "I've always wanted to see Chicago and I'm sure Quinn would to. And I really want her to reconnect with her family a bit, you know?"
"Sure. I still can't believe this. You make her really happy. Her face lights up when you enter the room."
I blush. "She means the world to me. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone else, more than I can describe, so I won't try."
"How did the two of you get together? I mean, you've always been friends..."
"Actually, Quinn is writing down how she fell in love with me. Maybe you can ask her to read it sometime." Then I remember some... explicit details and I make a note to myself to remind Quinn to send her sister a censored version. "How did your husband deal with your first pregnancy?" I ask her.
"He was just as worried and scared as you are and just as reluctant to admit it," she smiles. "But it'll be just fine. Quinn is going to give birth to an amazing boy and an amazing girl. You'll raise them well and they're going to be great people. I just know it. I'm so glad that Quinn can be who she really is now. Mom and dad tried so hard to shape us. It's a good thing we both broke free."
"Quinn was hurt to hear that you got married and didn't invite her to the wedding."
Frannie looks away in shame. "I honestly have no idea what I was thinking. It's just - we hadn't spoken in ages and when I still lived at home, we were always competing for our parents' affection. They didn't show much of it and we both craved it so badly. We'd always try to make the other look bad to stand out ourselves. It's sick when you think about it. And then I of course knew that she was gay and I still had my head in a place where the sun doesn't shine. I really regret that."
"What's in the past is in the past," I shrug. "She got over it. She was so happy to hear that you would come and visit, though. She was also very nervous about it all. For all her bitchiness in high school and her confidence as a lawyer, she can be incredibly insecure when it comes to people and relationships. She's still scared to be judged, she still wants to be regarded as perfect. She hates losing cases with a passion. It's a good thing she nearly always wins."
"Quinn's always been a sore loser. I think we all were. Dad just didn't accept anything less than us being the best. It was the same for our results at school. He would be furious if someone would tell him that their kid had scored better than his. Luckily, we spent a lot of our time in our rooms, avoiding the rest of the family and studying."
"You can bring David and the kids if you want to next time. Quinn and I will be moving to a bigger place anyway. This is fine for the two of us and it'll be fine when Ezra and Parker are little, but it won't be big enough forever."
"That sounds great."
At that moment, Quinn enters the kitchen and wraps an arm around me, pulling me into her. She smiles and gives me a soft kiss on the lips before turning to Frannie. "Thanks so much for coming over. I didn't realize how much I actually missed you, which is strange since we never liked each other before."
"I guess we both grew up," Frannie shrugs.
They keep talking as Frannie and Santana finish doing the dishes. Quinn asks Frannie if she wants to go out, but her sister tells her that she's tired and she'd prefer to stay in. She's staying the entire week, but of course she also has business to do. They make plans around that. When Frannie is off to the bathroom, Quinn gives Santana a more passionate and deep kiss.
"Thank you so much for calling her," she mutters against my lips before giving me another kiss, her tongue easily slipping between my lips.
She cups my jaw, her fingers disappearing in my hair. She pulls me closer and I know that we have to stop before we both can't anymore. I decide to distract her and pull away. "That was Bobby from work earlier. There's a staff party two weeks from now. He wanted to remind me of that and also inform me that we can bring our partners. Are you up for it?"
"Sure, it sounds great. Will you be networking or will you be able to actually spend time with me?"
"It's staff only, so I'll spend time with you," she smiles. "I might go and suck up some high asses for a bit, though. You know, introduce myself to important people, that shit."
"Are you gonna keep up that language around your kids?" Frannie asks as she enters the living room, smiling to indicate that she's just joking.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I mutter.
Frannie and Quinn both burst out laughing and I find that I don't really care that I'm the source. Quinn's laugh is beautiful anyway.
Frannie and Quinn bond over the next few days and we're both sad to see her gone at the end of the week, but of course we promise to keep in touch. I feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and happiness.
I feel even more accomplished and happy when Quinn rewards me for the effort with mind-blowing sex in positions one wouldn't expect from a pregnant woman.
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