The meteorologists had promised a light shower for the day, and finally around five the rain started to fall in New York City.
Quinn Fabray was standing in front of the big window wall in her apartment in Manhattan. She was holding a four-month-old baby – a little boy with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes – and watching the various patterns that the raindrops were tracing sliding down the windowpane.
It had a calming effect on her like feeling her son falling asleep in her arms and breathing in his baby powder scent.
Unconsciously, Quinn found herself flashing back to other times she looked at raindrops, taking comfort and turning them into images of her life…
***
Quinn was looking dejected outside the window of her new bedroom. She had moved to Lima three days ago and she still hadn’t had a chance to go for a walk around town. She had finally finished unpacking all of her things – except for one cardboard box full of posters ready to be hung on the freshly painted light green walls – and was fully ready to go outside when it had started to rain.
Quinn could see her reflection in the glass; the new colour of her hair, the band-aid on her new nose. After one year of ballet and gymnastic, after a crazy diet, a cure for her acne, a hair dye, and a rhinoplasty, she was finally a very good-looking girl; she was finally comfortable in her own skin.
In two weeks she was going to start her first year at McKinley High School, where nobody would laugh at her, call her Lucy Caboosey, or avoid her. Quinn was going to do everything in her power to be one of the popular girls, to be respected, to be wanted, to be envied. Lucy – the miserable little girl without any friends – was gone.
A sudden gust of wind brought a splatter of raindrops against the window. Quinn looked at them; the little pearls of water were immobile, each different from the others. The biggest drop caught the girl’s attention. It was perfectly round and shining. Quinn decided she wanted to be like that drop: the most striking one.
“Lucy!” Judy called her from the door.
“It’s Quinn now, mom,” The girl corrected her mother, without removing her eyes from the window.
“Oh right, Quinnie! Come downstairs. We’ll get dinner ready for when your father comes back.”
“Sure.”
Quinn took one last glance at the raindrop and then walked towards the door and followed her mother downstairs.
In her resolution Quinn had overlooked something relevant: the biggest drop was the one with more chances to slide down the glass.
***
Quinn was standing in the guestroom at the Jones’ place. She was looking at the rain hitting the skylight, enjoying its pitter-patter.
Next to her there were her belongings, all stuffed in a duffle bag and a box. The box was filled with her diaries, some photos and books that Santana had managed to collect from her bedroom, threatening Judy.
She wanted to cry, let the tears fall like the rain, but she couldn’t, not anymore: her family didn’t deserve any more tears.
Suddenly a hand was gently placed on her shoulder.
“Quinn, are you okay?” Mercedes asked concerned.
“Yeah,” Quinn replied in a hoarse voice, turning towards her friend.
“I really can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if you want to talk I’m here.”
“Thank you, Mercedes. You’re already doing so much for me,” Quinn said, gesturing at her new bedroom. “I’ll forever be in debt with you.”
“Nonsense. I’m just helping a friend out.”
Quinn moved to hug the girl, trying to convey all her gratitude in that act.
When they parted Mercedes said, “I have to ask. What do you think you want to do when the baby is born?”
“I can’t keep her. I’ll just ruin her life and mine. She deserves better.”
Quinn’s heart was already breaking at the thought of giving her baby away, but she knew she had to keep her baby’s wellness and happiness in mind. She couldn’t be selfish.
Mercedes didn’t speak; she squeezed Quinn’s hand and then moved towards the door.
“Dinner must be almost ready. Let’s go downstairs!”
***
Under a downpour, Rachel and Quinn run through the parking lot and got into Rachel’s car as quickly as they could. They had exited Doctor Barret’s office and after a 15 minutes worthless wait for the rain to stopped they had decided to just rush to the car.
“I really can’t believe that you, Rachel Berry, don’t have an umbrella always in your bag for these eventualities,” Quinn mocked the other girl while trying to adjust her wet hair.
“I let you know that I normally do,” Rachel replied while taking off her drenched sweater. “However, since I didn’t want to be late to pick you up this afternoon, I didn’t have the time to transfer all of my things from my schoolbag to my casual outings bag.”
“Of course,” Quinn commented. She rummaged into her own bag and retrieved a pack of tissues that she divided with Rachel.
When they were both finished drying themselves the best they could, Rachel started the car and fastened her seatbelt, causing Quinn’s attention to divert to her chest. The black and white striped t-shirt had wetly clung to Rachel’s torso, showing the pink bra underneath. Quinn could see the swell of the girl’s chest, the stiffness of her nipples….
Quinn swallowed hard and averted her gaze. She fastened her own seatbelt as images of herself cupping that tender flesh in her hands and taking one of Rachel’s nipples between her lips assaulted her mind.
To try to keep erotic sceneries out of her mind, Quinn fixed her gaze on the wipers moving back and forth in front of her.
God, how she wished that her infatuation with Rachel could be swept away like the raindrops from the car windshield.
She wasn’t strong enough to fight unwelcomed feelings for Rachel, for the girl who wanted to be with her boyfriend.
Quinn thought that everything she had done in the last years was fighting. Fighting against Lucy, against her pregnant self, against her gayness. She was tired.
And every warm smile Rachel directed at her made her want to stop fighting.
Rachel – who was rumbling something about how the weather in Ohio had changed in the last 30 years – stopped her rant as she pulled in front of Quinn’s house.
“Thank you again, Quinn, for coming with me,” Rachel said to her passenger. “I really can’t wait to see the compositions!”
Quinn wished she could say to Rachel that getting a nose job wasn’t needed, that she was beautiful the way she was, but she knew she wouldn’t be believed. She spent years insulting Rachel’s appearance, after all, and the girl was still nowadays hesitant to call her a friend.
Her history with Rachel was another thing that needed to be swept away, Quinn somberly thought.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye!” Quinn said instead, and quickly left the car.
***
The wedding had just ended and everybody was moving to their cars to drive to the Berrys’ were a buffet was going to be hold. The colourful umbrellas – opened for the light rain – didn’t match the fancy dresses that were worn that day.
Quinn was walking with Santana, followed by Sugar and Brittany, towards Santana’s car. She could feel in her friend’s grip a supportive encouragement. She had never told anything about her secret love for Rachel but she knew that Santana had somehow been aware of it for a long time.
Santana looked at Sugar. “Do you mind driving?” The other girl looked at her surprised but accepted the keys that Santana offered to her and soon they were all sitting in the car.
Quinn was looking at the rain hitting the car window, trying to hold her emotions in check. Every time a drop joined another and drag it down the glass she couldn’t help but compare it to Finn and Rachel. Finn, with is lack of ambition, was clearly dragging Rachel down with this wedding.
The raindrops became blurry as Quinn’s eyes started to water.
Quinn couldn’t believe how Rachel really ended up marry Finn. She couldn’t believe that their parents let them do it. Hiram and Leroy had to know that their daughter was undermining her future. Carol and Burt had to know that Finn was not ready to commit himself to a girl with such great dreams and talent. Finn himself had to know that he wasn’t worthy of becoming Rachel’s husband.
When she felt Santana whispering her name in the most caring voice she cracked.
“He’s going to ruin her life,” she said in an angry whisper.
“Rachel is still going to New York. She’ll soon realize that Finn is just dead weight,” Santana assured.
“He doesn’t even love her. Not like I do…”
The car jolted to a stop and Sugar looked at Quinn in shock. She quickly turned towards the road again dismissing her reaction, “Sorry, sorry! Don’t mind me!”
“Q, you’re going to Yale next fall. You’ll fall in love with a smart girl and you’ll remember Rachel Berry as the girl who made you realize you were gay and who was stupid enough to marry a giant oaf at 17.”
Quinn wanted to believe in Santana’s words but she knew that her feelings for Rachel weren’t just going to fade away with the change of scenery.
“She is your soulmate. You’ll get another chance in the future. I know it,” Brittany stated confidently.
Quinn wanted to believe in Brittany’s words even more.
***
Quinn was sitting on top of a bench in New Haven Green. Rain was falling lightly, wetting her hair and clothes and soothing her soul.
She stared absorbed at the infinite drops splashing in a little puddle on the ground.
“Hey!”
Quinn looked at her left. Behind the cold lines of rain and under a big red and black umbrella there was Laura.
“Hi!”
“Are you alright?” Laura asked as she took a sit next to Quinn and promptly moved her umbrella between them.
“Yeah…”
“So you’re okay with what happened last night?” The girl asked in a tentative tone.
The previous night, after months of harmless and playful flirting, Quinn and Laura had slept together. It had been Quinn’s first time with a girl and her second sexual encounter. It had been tender and fun, satisfying and just plain right. It had also felt a little bit overwhelming in the morning light.
But now Quinn was feeling peaceful, serene, sure of her identity, and so with honesty she replied, “I am.”
“I’m glad.”
Laura didn’t add anything else; she didn’t pressure to know why Quinn had fled her room in a panic, she didn’t ask why Quinn was sitting alone in the rain, she didn’t demand to know what was going to happen next between them.
Laura just sat silently with her, watching the raindrops drowning, as did Quinn’s fears and doubts.
***
Quinn was standing against the kitchen counter in her apartment. She was holding a cup of hot mint tea and staring at the high row of windows on her left. A few raindrops had collected on the glass during the early morning and Quinn admired how they reflected the warm light of the kitchen.
It was beautiful like the night she had just had.
“Good morning,” a raspy voice addressed her from the living room. Quinn’s eyes left the raindrops on the windows and looked at the tiny brunette who had just spoken; she didn’t reflect light, she was the light.
“Hey.” Quinn smiled at the young woman. “I thought you were going to sleep a little more. I would have brought you breakfast in a while.”
“That’s sweet. I appreciate the thought,” the woman replied and kissed her lips chastely. Then she stole the cup in Quinn’s hand and looked into it. “That’s not coffee!” she said disappointed and gave the cup back to an amused Quinn.
“Sorry, Rachel. I gave up caffeine a long time ago.”
“What?” Rachel screamed in shock. “How can you live without coffee?”
“I manage. And my body loves me for that: I always get anxious whenever I drink it,” Quinn explained.
“Well, if it is for your body…” Rachel said caressing the blonde’s bare thighs. Quinn trembled at the soft touch and Rachel started kissing her neck.
“Rachel,” Quinn said, pushing her reluctantly away. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But can we have breakfast before?”
“Sure,” Quinn granted and put her cup of tea on the counter to get some oranges from on top of the fridge.
When Quinn and Rachel had eaten their breakfast, they sat on the blue couch in Quinn’s living room looking shyly at each others.
“Last night was amazing,” Rachel broke the awkward silence.
“It was. But did it mean anything to you?” Quinn inquired in a soft whisper and Rachel looked at her with a confused expression.
“Was it just sex for you?” She clarified.
“Quinn, we hadn’t seen or spoken to each others for four years until last week; I was so happy to see you again. Yesterday I came here to catch up with you over dinner and ending up in bed with you definitely wasn’t on my mind,” Rachel explained.
“But then you kissed me,” Rachel went on, after wetting her lips. “And the surprise over your action was way less strong than the desire I felt to kiss you back. And things got heated pretty fast. And God, Quinn, I don’t know what it meant but it felt so right. What was last night for you, Quinn?”
“It was everything I’ve ever wanted,” Quinn replied honestly.
Unfazed by Rachel’s shocked expression she went on, “I’ve always loved you, Rachel. Since that day in freshman year when you presented your PowerPoint about the Astor Place Riot in American History. It took me a lot of time to accept it and when I was finally ready to take my chance, you were already engaged to Finn.”
Quinn paused a moment and took Rachel’s hand in hers.
“In those past four years Santana updated me regularly about your life. When she told me that you were going to have your big Broadway debut, I just…I needed to see it. Last week seeing you on that stage moving people with your talent it was like falling in love with you all over again. And last night I took my chance and kissed you.”
“I, I--” Rachel was speechless. She was clearly having a hard time wrapping her mind around the unexpected love confession.
“You don’t have to say anything. Take some time to digest these revelations and then come back to me. I don’t expect you to say that you love me back or that you want to be with me, but please,” Quinn begged with tears in her eyes, “Let me be a part of your life again. I need you so much.”
“Quinn. I wouldn’t dream of losing contact with you again,” Rachel assured and took the crying woman in her arms.
“Good, because for the first time since I met you I feel worthy of you...” Quinn confessed against Rachel’s shirt.
A few minutes later, Quinn broke the warm hug and wiped her eyes with her fingers. “I’m sorry. God, I must look such a mess!”
“You’re beautiful, prettiest girl I’ve ever met,” Rachel objected, echoing words that were said years before.
***
Quinn was sitting at her desk watching attentively as her students took their mid-semester test. She glanced at her watch and announced, “Less than ten minutes, guys!”
As her students rushed to finish their answers, Quinn stood up and moved to the closest window.
Rain was falling lightly, but the sun was peeking out from behind the grey clouds, making everything shiny; as shiny as the diamond ring she had been carrying around the whole week.
That night Quinn and Rachel were going to celebrate their first year together and Quinn was ready to propose to her.
Quinn wanted Rachel to become her wife; she wanted Rachel to enjoy a married life after her short and disastrous one with Finn. Quinn wanted to promise to love Rachel and cherish her for the rest of her life; she wanted to promise to make Rachel the happiest woman in the world every day.
Quinn wanted to fully commit herself to Rachel, the sun who brightened her life.
***
Quinn was still immersed in her last memory when a pair of arms circled her waist.
“Hey,” Rachel whispered, mindful of their sleeping son.
“Hey! How is your song writing going?”
“Not too bad. I just needed to see my sources of inspiration…”
Quinn smiled and kissed her wife’s lips.
“How long ago did Lucas fall asleep?” Rachel asked, caressing their son’s cheek.
“Not long.”
“Give him to me, I’ll take him to his crib.”
Quinn carefully passed Lucas from her arms to her wife’s.
“Actually, can you help me with some lyrics afterwards?”
“Sure.”
Quinn loved helping Rachel with her songwriting; she always suggested lines from her favourite poems and novels and encouraged her wife to avoid overused and trite expressions.
As she waited for Rachel to come back, Quinn looked back at the window. Raindrops were still running down the glass.
“Drops of memory,” Quinn said as Rachel’s steps came closer.
“What?” Rachel asked confused.
“Drops of memory. It could be a good song title, don’t you think?”
“It’s…very original. Drops of memory,” Rachel repeated it three times, testing the sound of the words on her lips. “I like it! Let’s go write this new single of mine then!”
Quinn let an eager Rachel take her hand and guide her in the little recording studio upstairs. The moment they opened the door, rain stopped falling on New York City.