A Mother and A Daughter (Glee: Quinn Fabray and Beth)

Chapter 11: Beth (Puckerman) Corcoran

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Puck's POV

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Quinn picked up our bowls and brought them to the sink.

"Thanks for breakfast," I told her.

"No problem," she said.

Quinn started rinsing the dishes but kept a conversation going.

"So, today's the big day. Nervous?" she asked.

"A little."

"I can't help but wonder what she'll think of me. What if she doesn't like me?"

"You're her mother," I said.

"Her biological mother, not her real one."

I laughed.

"What?" she asked.

"Senior year of high school, you would've never admitted that. You were crazy," I said, jokingly.

"Shut up," she laughed.

"I'm just surprised Shelby let Beth come. I mean, there was a lot of tension between you guys. God, she didn't want you anywhere near Beth after what you did to her."

"Well," Quinn started, no longer laughing, "I wanted my baby back. Beth is perfect. She's my perfect little thing. I missed her milestones. Shelby knows what that's like. I just wished I kept in touch."

"Well, your perfect thing is coming to see you in an hour, so go get dressed."

She smiled at me and walked upstairs.

I eventually went up to get ready as well. I decided to just wear jeans, a shirt and a light jacket. As I put my suitcase back next to my bed, something fell out. I went to put it back, but there was something underneath is that caught my eye.

My letterman jacket.

I didn't even know that I packed it. It must of accidentally gotten into my bag when I was shoving things in it at the last second.

I decided to wear it. High school wasn't so bad for me. My grades sucked, but I did graduate. I met Quinn there. And it might sound awful to say this, but I'm glad we had Beth. It's what brought us together in high school and even now. I'm not sure if Quinn feels the same way, but I know she adores Beth, even though she hasn't seen her in 14 years.

I stepped outside of my room at the same moment as Quinn. She clearly had the same idea as me: High School.

She was wearing a navy strapless top with a small zipper going vertically at the top. Over that she wore a white sweater with sleeves that went just past her elbows.  Her skirt was a light beige. It was short and not too tight on her. It had lots of lace on it: something she wore very frequently way back when. Everything was held together with a large brown belt that matched her boots. Some of her shoulder- length hair had been twisted and pulled back by a barrett. The rest of her hair was slightly wavy. She wore an amber necklace around her neck and a matching anklet.

She was beautiful. It felt like I was staring into the face of the old Quinn. She didn't look thirty at all. She looked sixteen.

"It still fits," I told her.