Dec. 8, 2012, 12:55 p.m.
There's Always Another Wound to Discover: Out of the Island, Into the Highway
E - Words: 2,103 - Last Updated: Dec 08, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 6/? - Created: May 04, 2012 - Updated: Dec 08, 2012 156 0 0 0 0
Kurt loved their house, he loved their peaceful neighborhood. Tucked in an older section of Las Vegas known as Spring Valley, it was a pleasant mix of young families and elderly people. Kurt had been adamant on a one-story house, because of his young child and an irrational fear of staircases.
Nothing good ever happens on staircases, he had always insisted.
The house came with a pool, a play set, and four bedrooms so they wouldn’t be on top of each other. The schools were all within walking distance, it was quiet and safe. It was all the young father could hope for. A real dream come true and the perfect escape from Lima, Ohio.
With Las Vegas real estate still trying to recover from the bottom dropping out and a little help from their parents Kurt and Santana had an easy time making the house theirs.
It had needed some work but with Kurt’s black belt in thrifty shopping and his father’s desire to make the house perfect for his precious angel baby cupcake grandson it was a home in no time.
“Dad, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Kurt called out. Watching Burt fight with the safety fence around the pool was equal parts hilarious and painful.
Burt turned cold and concerned eyes onto Kurt. “What if Justin wanders out here while no one is paying attention and falls in the pool? Then what?”
“He’s four Dad and he’s not blind, he knows there’s a pool. Oh, and if you’ll remember he knows how to swim. You paid for the lessons!”
“I’m just sayin’ its better safe than sorry son. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to him. And believe me I can tell you what its like to worry about your son.”
Kurt swallowed his guilt. He had been a constant source of worry for his father growing up. Hell, even now moving the precious angel baby cupcake across the country. To Las Vegas of all the blessed places.
“So just humor your old man yeah?” Burt smiled. This move was going very hard on him. And hard for Justin only as far as being separated from Papa Burt went.
“I promise I have it under control Dad,” Kurt voice softened and he smiled back. “Want to see? Justin!”
“Coming!” The boy yelled back from inside the house where he was helping Mama Carol set up his new room. It took some time for his short legs to get him to the backyard. “Yeah?”
“Tell Papa Burt what will happen if you come out into the backyard by yourself without telling anyone.”
Justin turned to his grandfather and recited, “Daddy will lock me in the attic until I’m eighteen and only feed me once a day.”
Burt dropped his chin to his chest. “Kid, I know how you are about the things you say to him; but what if he says that at school and the teacher or another parent hears that?”
Kurt held up one finger to his father. “What do you tell them Justin?”
“My daddy has a very morbid sense of humor.”
Burt glared at the boy. “Do you even know what that means?”
“He thinks things are funny that not everyone else thinks is funny.” Justin puffed up with pride at his knowledge. “Did I get it right Daddy?”
Kurt bit back his laughter at his little parrot that actually retained the words said to him, sometimes. “Yes sweetheart that was perfect.” Kurt turned his attention back to Burt. “See? Totally under control.”
Moving to Las Vegas had taken so much planning and had been a very long process. Kurt had sort of fallen into being a bartender.
He had been content enough at the diner until he figured out what it was he really wanted to be doing. He was more than able to support the three of them with his tips alone. One had to appreciate the Vegas way of tip everyone and tip often. And until Santana could find a job that didn’t require taking her clothes off Kurt took advantage of the free babysitting and took the long shifts as often as he could with a smile.
They had been in Vegas for eight months when he met Malaine. He had seen the woman sitting alone at a booth and was immediately thrown off by how much she looked like Justin’s mother— no don’t think about Tasha.
“Hi I’m Kurt, I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“How much do you hate working here honey?” She looked up at him through long lashes.
If he hadn’t already been in a mild state of shock he would have been completely thrown off by that question. “Mm, pardon?”
The woman smiled. “You heard me. I saw what happened with those men a few moments ago.”
Oh that. While Vegas proper might accept all walks of life with open arms it was more often the tourists blowing into town with their own small-minded hang ups causing problems.
When the three obvious tourists started to harass Kurt he had been quick to verbally beat them into their places and they turned tail and ran out. He wasn’t a scared a scared sixteen year old boy anymore; he was a twenty-four year old man, and a father, the very thought of anyone talking like that around Justin made him see red.
“Sorry about that,” Kurt blushed. He didn’t really like losing his temper, or worse having other people bear witness.
“You don’t need to apologize to me honey." She reached up to pat his arm. "You have quite a mouth on you. You ever think about slinging drinks?”
“What like a bartender? No I can’t say that it ever crossed my mind.” He looked around the empty diner. It was that strange time between 5am and 7am it was a ghost town in the city.
“I own an establishment on The Boulevard. It’s between the Strip proper and Fremont actually. Are you familiar with the area?”
“I just moved here a few months ago but I’m learning my way around.” Kurt offered another smile. He didn’t feel the need to get into why he didn’t get out much to the stranger.
“Well,” she said as she reached into her purse; “I am never wrong about people and you strike me a person who would thrive working for me.” She produced a glossy blue card.
Malaine Q. He gave the card a once over. “Mystics?”
“The name of my establishment honey. Stop by any night I’m always there. Give it a look and then come see me. Promise me you’ll think about it, and I’ll take a coffee.”
Kurt and Santana despite their mutual, often, abrasive personalities could be very personable when they wanted to be. And when it came time to making friends with their neighbors for emergency babysitting purposes they had poured out all the charm.
The Hartford family two doors down were like angels sent from on high. A sweet older couple, their eldest daughter, always a bit of a free spirit, and best of all her five-year-old son, Jason.
So it was with no worries Kurt and Santana deposited Justin off for a sleepover and hit the streets.
“Are we really going to Deuce it tonight?” Santana whined.
“Oh come on! We’re going to a bar and we have no child for the night and we’re in Vegas. We haven’t had a night like this since we were here looking at houses. Let’s live a little and not have to worry about driving. And anyway the busses here are nice. And it’s a beautiful night.”
It was a short walk to their bus stop that would take them to the Strip. From there they would have to cross the boulevard to catch a northbound bus to reach the bar. And Kurt was right; there really was no beating a November evening in Las Vegas. Warm days and brisk nights.
Kurt had thought that the summer might kill them all, but after surviving so many humid Ohio summers, the dry desert heat was a most welcome change.
“I still can’t believe we live here now,” Santana was practically vibrating in her seat. “I mean fuck Kurt, Las Vegas? What the hell were we thinking! And why didn’t we come here right after graduation?”
“Well I had school in New York and had to have a child and you— what the hell did you do again?”
Santana swatted at his shoulder, hard. “I had school too you ass.”
The playful banter continued until their transfer. They both stopped on the sidewalk amidst the crowd to stare in awe of their surroundings.
Kurt knew in his heart that no matter how many times he saw it for the rest of his life, Las Vegas at night would always take his breath away. The way the lights danced in the night sky and could make him feel truly alive. Yes New York had a certain charm to it that he had appreciated when he was younger. But it always seemed to him, that it always stayed the same. Same rude people in a hurry all the time, same assholes that couldn’t drive, same old, same old. But here life was like a flowing river. You never stepped into the same Vegas twice.
“Are you done mentally waxing poetic about this place?” Santana pulled on his arm. She knew him too well. “Let’s go! I want to get drunk.”
They spent the rest of the commute running a social commentary about the other passengers.
“I just can’t imagine her looking into a mirror before she left and thinking, ‘yes this is a good idea’ can you?” Kurt scoffed at the over done, clearly mid-western woman, trying to hard to “fit in.”
“Where is this place again?” Santana asked.
Kurt pulled out his phone to verify. “Next stop I think.”
Santana pulled on his sleeve and pointed out the window. “Ohmigod Kurt, look!”
The building itself didn’t look too terribly large, lit up as spectacularly as anything else on the Strip proper. A bright blue sign that gave the effect of a waterfall announced the name of the establishment. But it had to be more of a club. And then Kurt finally saw what had Santana in stitches.
The entire front wall was covered with placards and stickers and small signs. The centerpiece being a large rainbow flag.
“It’s a gay club!” Santana barked out still laughing.
“Don’t be too sure about that you ass. Look harder.”
Religious symbols also littered the wall. Eastern, Western, pagan, all were represented. And Kurt smiled when another sign lit up beneath the flag, writing itself in script like magic: All Are Welcome Here
“Now’s as good a time as any,” Kurt reached out blindly to take his best friend’s hand and take that step forward.
That was how he found himself almost four years later at one of Las Vegas’s most popular and best kept secrets making as much in one night as he did in a week at the diner.
Even Santana got a job as another bartender. Malaine fell in love with her as well that night. She had to have the pair of them for the same reasons. Kurt’s charm set all the women and straight men at ease and made everyone else want to fuck him, hard and fast over the bar. Santana’s smoldering good looks consistently set all of the customers crotches on fire.
Malaine accommodated their every need. She sent them to a bartending tech school. She made their schedules so that one of them would always be home with Justin. They alternated every other month so that they could both work the more profitable weekends evenly. And for those rare nights that all hands were needed on deck Malaine converted an extra storage room into a bedroom for Justin. Furnished, TV, game consoles, the works.
Malaine quickly cut off all of Kurt’s grumblings about Justin being tuned into a spoiled little prince.
“Oh hush up Daddy. You totally get off on the fact that people adore your son. And you love me that I would do anything for him.”
Kurt blushed and relented. The easiest way to get into his heart was through his son.
Their little family routine was easily formed. Work, home, school, family and some on the side for both Kurt and Santana.
Kurt really had considered life close to perfect.
Or it was, until he showed up.