The Beach House – Chapter One – Lost

Near J Hood Wright Park, Washington Heights, Manhattan, New York – 2022

Walking down the sidewalk in his neighborhood in New York City, the rain was pouring down on Kurt in buckets. He had checked the weather report this very morning, happy to see it was expected to stay bright and sunny well into tomorrow. So much for the weather man predicting the future.

Kurt hadnt brought his umbrella or rain coat, and he was wearing his new British tweed sports jacket, the one on which he had meticulously sewn buckles and straps and reconstructed the lapels to make it look more fashion forward. He had done the redesign one evening and the result was something he was very proud of. Redesigning clothes filled a void in Kurt, one that had opened up a big, empty space when hed had the terrible break-up with his boyfriend, Blaine, six years ago. He denied that he was still lonely – even to himself - but then, hed been lying to himself for years.

As the storm rained down around him, Kurt realized that the imported wool wouldnt stand up to a heavy rain. His mind, always busy, came up with a question he couldnt answer: if wool shrinks when it gets wet, why doesnt it shrink when its still on the sheep?

Thunder rumbled and he knew hed never make it home before his suit jacket was ruined so he hurried to huddle under a picnic pavilion in the park, trying to stay out of the downpour. He had considered taking off the jacket and making a rush for home, but it had turned too cold for that to be more than a passing thought. So here he was, jammed between an old picnic table and the metal wall of the shelter. He was trying to stay dry under the loud thundering sounds of the rain hitting the galvanized metal roof.

The wind started to blow harder, whipping the rain into the shelter of the picnic pavilion and Kurt mumbled a curse and saw there was a dry spot at the back, adjacent to another picnic table, some debris and a large metal trashcan. He scrambled over to it, hoping there was enough shelter to stop the cold rain. The wind was bad enough.

He sat down on one of the benches behind the table. The man was tired and upset and just wanted to go home, have a hot bath and get into his warm bed. If it was still cold, he might let Piers into his bed and have a cuddle. The cat seemed to have a sixth sense about when Kurt needed a snuggle.

“Nggghhh....[sniff, sniff]” Kurt heard during a break in the sound of the wind and crashes of thunder. He glanced around, searching for the source of the sound.

Leaning against the back wall, neglecting the state of his clothing in favor of trying to locate the pitiful sound, Kurt began to get worried. It was difficult in the wind and rain, but crouching down he saw a very small pair of kletter boots sticking out from behind a large trash barrel and the noise of quiet sobbing got a bit louder.

“Hey, why are you hiding behind the trash can? Are you lost, honey?” Kurt asked the boots. He heard the little tyke take a deep breath and the sobbing got quieter.

“Come on out, I think I can help you,” Kurt coaxed. He moved closer and tried to see behind the trash can to the murky corner of the muddy floor.

“Im cold,” the tiny voice said.

“Come out and I can take you somewhere warm, okay?” he asked again.

“Can you get Daddy?” the voice asked. When Kurt said he could, the little boots came out of their hiding place and a small boy was standing in the darkening afternoon. Kurt looked at him and his breath stuck in his throat. The small boy was around three years old, but very small. He had golden skin and a mop of loose curly hair that hung in his eyes, sopping wet from the cold rain. He was dressed in a pair of dark green corduroy pants and a short-sleeved button-down oxford shirt. The shirt was yellow with pale green pin stripes. The cutest thing was that the boy was wearing red suspenders with a matching red bow tie, sagging in the wet weather. Kurt held out his hands and the boy looked at him with suspicion.

“Hey, buddy, can you tell me your name? You asked me to find your daddy – but first I need your name,” Kurt tried. He didnt want to scare the little guy, but he didnt want him to scream and bring someone to accuse Kurt of some crime, either.

“Daniel Zebulon Anderson.”

Kurts heart went up to his throat and started beating like crazy. Anderson? This child was the split-image of someone Kurt used to know. He had to get closer to see the boys eyes. They were a striking golden hazel and his eyelashes framed them like Bambi.

“What can I do to help?” Kurt asked, seeing that the tiny boy was shivering in the cold.

“Im cold and I want Daddy. Daddy is warm,” the boy sniffled, pushing his dark curls from his face and looking into Kurts eyes with misery and fear.

Kurt took off his new sport coat and offered it to the boy. Daniel ran to him, wrapping himself in the warmth of the offered jacket. He took a deep breath and then looked at Kurt.

“Who are you?” the small boy asked, then gasped. “Are you my guardian angel?”

“My name is Kurt Hummel. You can call me Kurt. How about you warm up for a few minutes and Ill call the policeman to come help us?” Kurt said, searching in his pocket for his cell phone.

“No! Call Daddy. Please?”

“Do you know the number?” Kurt asked. The little boy rattled off ten numbers very quickly in a sing-song voice. Kurt punched them into his phone and waited. The boy leaned against him.

“Tell Daddy to hurry, please mister, Im scared.”

Kurt opened his arms and the boy scrambled up on his lap just as a loud crash of thunder rocked the shelter. Daniel jumped in shock and looked around, his eyes landing on Kurts. The boy snuggled closer to Kurt who held the little boy next to his chest to give him some comfort.

His phone was dead.

“Hey, for some reason my cell phone isnt working, Daniel. Is it okay if you come with me to my house?” Kurt asked. The little boy put his head down on Kurts shoulder, answering with just his sobbing and asking Kurt to take him to his daddy.

Kurt wrapped the boy inside his tweed jacket and held him close as he quickly walked the three blocks to his apartment. He fumbled with his keys, finding the right one and letting himself into the small apartment across from the park on 173rd. Daniel cowered against him, looking out from under the jacket to see where he was.

“This is my apartment,” Kurt said, beginning to worry because the boy was shivering in his wet clothes.

“Lets get you some dry clothes, okay?” Kurt asked, setting the small boy down on the sofa and heading towards his bedroom. He returned with an old T-shirt, some towels, and a blanket. He helped the small boy off with his sopping wet clothes down to his underwear – which had stayed relatively dry under the thick corduroy pants. After toweling him off, Kurt put the warm shirt on Daniel, although it was miles too big, and set him back on the sofa.

“Here, let me see what we can do....” Kurt hummed, getting out his sewing kit. With scissors, a bit of thread, and a ribbon Kurt was able to make the old T-shirt into a serviceable nightshirt that fit Daniel. Then he wrapped the small wool-blend blanket wrapped around him for warmth.

“I have a few things to do here, I need to put your things in the drier, and plug in my phone so I can make some calls. Are you hungry?” Kurt asked. The youngster nodded. “How about some lunch?”

Daniel nodded again.

Kurt plugged his phone into its charger and changed his own clothes which were also soaking wet. He went to the laundry room to put everything into the dryer, then headed to the kitchen to make something to eat.

A short time later, Kurt set two bowls of soup on the dining table along with glasses of milk and some crackers.

“Here, I can set a phone book on the chair so you can reach the table,” Kurt offered. The small boy seemed content to be lifted to his seat.

“What kind of soup is this, Mr Kurt?” he asked.

“Its chicken and rice. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I like chicken and rice. Daddy makes it for me. He puts soy sauce in it. Do you have a bottle of soy sauce like Daddy?”

“I do have soy sauce. Can you pour it yourself or shall I?” Kurt asked. He was not used to three year olds and wasnt sure how much this little guy was capable of doing.

“You do it,” Daniel said, giving Kurt a small, shy smile. “Please,” he remembered to say.

They ate their lunch and Kurt carried the boy back to the sofa once more.

“I have to go potty. Now,” Daniel said, looking very uncomfortable.

“Okay, its right in here,” Kurt said, carrying the boy to the bathroom and setting him down.

“Do you need help?”

“Just lifting me up,” Daniel said, raising his arms for Kurt to pick him up. Daniel had pulled his underwear down and Kurt pulled up the large T-shirt, then set the boy on the seat, holding him so he didnt fall in. He heard the satisfying noise of the boy urinating and waited for him to be done before walking him back to the sofa.

He checked his cell and was grateful to find two bars on the face.

“My phone is ready. Can you tell me your phone number again?”

Best Pals Daycare, Washington Heights, New York City, the same day

Blaine Anderson was beside himself with anger and worry. He had been bringing his son to Best Pals Daycare Center for three months and everything seemed to be fine. Today when he went to pick him up, however, he was not in his classroom.

“I dont have the time to argue with you, Miss Levine. Where is my son?” he asked, barely able to keep his temper in check after questioning the teacher and the director for the last fifteen minutes.

“Ah, thats is why weve been trying to call you. He was part of the group that went to the park for playtime today. When the storm came so suddenly, the teachers gathered the children and...well, it was chaos out in the storm. We have many employees at the park looking for your son,” the teacher said, tears swelling her eyes.

“Let me get this straight. You LOST my three year old son in a public park in New York Fucking City?” he shouted. “What park? Have you called the police?”

“Now, stay calm, Mr. Anderson. J Hood Wright Park, just down on 175th. We will find him.”

“Did you call the police?” Blaine asked again.

“We were just going to do that...” Miss Levine said, her hands shaking.

“How long has he been missing?” Blaine wanted to know.

“Only a few hours...” she whispered.

“Hes been lost for hours and you didnt think you needed to call the police?” Blaine asked, stunned by the shock of that. “Shit. How are you running a daycare facility?”

He walked over a few steps and got out his cell phone and called the police himself. When he got off the phone he asked where exactly his son was last seen. He ignored the teachers attempts to explain or try to calm him and turned on his heel and left the building.

The park was a few blocks away from the daycare and Blaine ran the whole way. He met a squad of New Yorks finest arriving at about the same time he did. The weather didnt let up a bit – the rain was still coming down in torrential waves that made visibility almost impossible. He was introduced to the officer in charge, a large man and older than any of the others there.

“Mr. Anderson, does your son have any ID on him?” Officer Moynihan asked. “Does he know his full name and his phone number?” the burly policeman asked, waiting in a pavilion away from the worst of the rain.

“Yes, he can say his name and my phone number. He isnt a shy kid, but he is only three years old, so hes probably scared,” Blaine said, “Hes so small...” he added, still searching with his eyes as he watched the policemen walking up and down the grass, looking in trash cans and behind bushes and trees. Blaine thought the boy would be smart enough to seek out shelter, so he continued to look in each corner and nook of the pavilion before moving to the next as he spoke with Officer Moynihan.

“Sir, weve posted a state-wide Amber alert. We think well be able to find him quicker that way,” the officer told the stricken father. Blaine took in a deep breath. He was terrified that something had happened to Daniel.

“Thank-you. Do you think it makes the chances of finding him less because the daycare didnt report him missing for several hours?” Blaine asked, though he knew the answer.

“The sooner the alert goes out the better chance of finding a child, but this is a unique circumstance. It is probable that he wandered away from the group and wasnt kidnapped.”

Blaine blanched. Up until that moment the thought that someone kidnapped his son hadnt entered his mind. A cold shiver went up his spine. He had to find his boy.

“Could he have been picked up by your wife?” Moynihan asked.

“I dont have a wife. Or a husband. Daniel is mine alone. I have never been married,” Blaine explained. The officer blushed. He knew better than to assume anything or to phrase his questions that way, he was just worried about the little boy. He had seen the picture Blaine gave them – a small-for-his-age boy with big hazel eyes and a mop of unruly black curls. He was a darling kid, a face like an angel with long eyelashes, cupids bow lips, and rosy cheeks that framed his sweet smile.

“Were doing everything we can, Mr Anderson, and we wont stop until we find him,” Moynihan assured the distraught father.

Kurt checked his cell phone to see if it had charged enough that he was finally able to use it. He knew the boys family was probably overcome with fright not knowing where their son was, so he called the number the boy gave him first.

“Hello?”

“Ah, hello. I am calling because I found a small boy in the storm. He gave me this num...”

“Daniel!! Where is he? Is he okay? Where are you?” the frantic voice came back through the phone, shaking Kurt up. This voice sounded desperate.

“I...umm...I found him in the park, he was so wet and cold...he was shivering but my phone was dead and there was nobody around. I brought him to my apartment, he was so cold and upset. I put the charger on the phone and called as soon as I could...” Kurt stuttered. “Heres my address...” he said, then gave the man his address on 173rd.

“Im just three blocks from there – Ill be there in a few minutes. Can I talk to Daniel?” Blaine asked as he started to run towards 173rd. Kurt put the phone on speaker and told the boy his father was on the phone.

“Daddy?” the tiny voice came over the phone, making Blaines body shake with relief.

“Danny Boy, are you okay?” he asked, hanging on each word as he grabbed Officer Moynihands coat on his way by and pulled him close. He hit the speaker function on his phone.

“Im okay now, Daddy. Mr. Kurt fed me chicken and rice soup and let me wear his shirt. Its too big on me, but my clothes were icky wet. Am I in trouble for letting my stuff get wet, Daddy?” the little boy asked, his voice shaky.

“No, son, you are not. I am coming right now to get you, honey. Dont worry, Im coming,” he said. If the name Kurt brought up a distant memory, Blaine let it slide into the background at the joy of knowing his son was okay.

Six years earlier - New York City, 2016

Kurt was standing on the curb in front of the theatre, tickets in one hand and fashionable walking stick in his other hand.

“But Blaine, we agreed on going to the show tonight, didnt we?” Kurt asked.

“You assumed that. I got the text after my meeting and I had no time to get ready, much less plan anything. I have a job to do – the apartment is expensive and I need to work to hold up my part of the rent,” Blaine stormed. “That on top of school...”

The two men had moved to New York to attend college and they had lived in the dorms until just a few months ago. They had met in high school, dated, and planned to one day get married. Living together in the same apartment was supposed to be practice for that day, but it was not the paradise that they anticipated.

“Remember last week we decided we needed to do something to let out all the stress? Well, I was just acting on that. A Broadway show, Blaine! What better way to unwind, right?” Kurt pleaded, his bright blue eyes seeking out his boyfriends honey-amber ones.

“Maybe, but where did you get the money to buy tickets to a first-run show actually on Broadway?” Blaine asked. He knew Kurt didnt have any spare money this week.

“I switched around some of the household budget?” Kurt said in a shy voice. He knew Blaine didnt like it when he got creative with the finances.

“Oh, Kurt. Weve talked about this before. I cant work with money that isnt there, babe. I need to have it where it belongs so we can pay the utilities and the rent. Why do you keep doing things like this?” Blaine asked, exasperated at what he saw as Kurts failure to take living together seriously.

“Im sorry.” Kurt hung his head, feeling terrible that he had failed again. He just wanted Blaine happy like he used to be.

“You always are. Dont you understand that we have to keep on budget, we have to be able to pay our bills? You are so irresponsible,” Blaine sighed.

Kurt wilted. He knew he was wrong, but hed had such high hopes of getting Blaine to smile once again.

“Look, I am in no mood to go see a show tonight. Im going to go home and try to get some work done. Maybe I can pick up some extra cash that way,” Blaine said, glum and sullen.

“Why are you always so depressing?” Kurt snapped back. “The world is not such an awful place, Blaine. Have you forgotten entirely how to have some fun? It just gets harder and harder to live with you.” Kurt didnt mean it, and he would live to regret those words.

Blaine, tears in his eyes, his hand over his breaking heart, turned on his heel and walked quickly down the street. It was the last time Kurt saw him.

That night when Kurt got home, Blaine had left. There was nothing of Blaines left in the apartment. Not so much as a crumb of Blaines favorite bread. Nothing.

Kurt knew it was his fault. He had been lax in keeping up with the household accounts. Month after month he had played with the books, moving money from one account to another to try to pay the bills, but he and Blaine disagreed about the importance of certain things. Kurt included entertainment in a much more important category than the water bill. If he bought himself a new sweater, he also got a new pair of skinny jeans for Blaine to make it even. Then he hid the late notices for the utilities so Blaine wouldnt worry. They had come home twice in six months to find the electricity shut off.

Kurt looked for Blaine, calling all of his friends and scouting out all of the hang-outs that he and Blaine had frequented in New York. He had just evaporated. Kurt kept up the search, extending it to Ohio – phoning all of his old friends from Dalton and finally calling California to ask if Cooper had seen him. Cooper told Kurt to give up. What had been between Kurt and Blaine was obviously done. After that, he cried himself to sleep night after night until Rachel and Finn came to his rescue and forced Kurt to go home to his dad. Burt did his best to help and Kurt eventually returned to New York to finish school, but he was never the same again.

It was a year before he graduated from NYU and started by getting a job at Esquire Magazine, writing for the fashion department. He moved from the loft that he had shared with Blaine in Bedford-Stuyvesant to Washington Heights, but he could never let go of the place where he and Blaine had lived together.

Kurt had pursued his love of making prints and set up a workshop in the loft to make lithographs and became so successful that he was able to quit his job at Esquire and work for himself. He bought the loft, knowing he would never be able to let that last connection to Blaine go. Even though it was now full of printing equipment and high-end cameras and presses, he kept some of the things they had shared: among other things his first pair of Michael Parkes lithographs and a bronze harlequin lamp.

Nowadays Kurt was a busy man – too busy for romance. At least thats what he told himself. In the back of his mind, he knew for a fact hat he had lost the only man he could ever love.

The night of the fight, Blaine left New York after renting a small storage space for his things. He was heartbroken, but things with Kurt had only gotten worse and worse after theyd moved in together. It came to an end when Kurt lashed out at him in front of the Broadway theatre that night. It was broken – his relationship with the love of his life – and Blaine couldnt see his way past that. He packed the few things he needed, called a guy whose name he found on a flier on a lamp post and moved his things out before Kurt got home from the theatre that night. Then he went to the airport and bought a one-way ticket to California, hoping his brother would take him in.

Of course, Cooper welcomed his little brother with open arms. He helped Blaine transfer to UCLA and they shared a house on the beach for two years. Blaine was relatively happy living with his brother, but he missed the hustle and bustle of New York City almost as much as he missed Kurt. He finally said goodbye to Cooper and moved back to New York, settling in Upper Manhattan near Amsterdam Avenue in a nice apartment. It was cozy, but big enough for himself, an office to write in, and a guest room. It was close to a bookstore, a few delicatessens, restaurants, and a small park.

Blaine got a job as a nightclub singer to make ends meet as he worked on writing his play day after day. He sold his first script using a pseudonym to a prosperous off-Broadway producer and never looked back. He had been ghost writing plays ever since.

A year later, Blaine had still not dated anyone. He had friends, he went out on the town and danced and had a good time, but he was lonely. All he had ever wanted in his life was to marry Kurt Hummel and have a family with him. It was still in his heart, but he told himself that he would never be able to find Kurt now. Hed lost touch with all of the New Directions and the Warblers he still kept in contact with told him that they had no idea where Kurt might be.

Finally, Blaine began to worry that he might soon be too old to be good father and in the spring of 2019, he applied to a service that helped single people who wanted to have a child. They supplied a surrogate and Blaine supplied the sperm - and later that year his son was born.

Blaine felt as if his life was all he had hoped it would be when he took little Daniel home. Hed taken six months off of work to be the best dad he could be to his son and they bonded beautifully. Blaine couldnt help but think of Burt Hummel whenever he came to a crossroads of what to do with Daniel. Burt had been an inspiration to him, Blaine had thought he was probably the best example of a father he had ever come across. All the thoughts of Burt had stirred his mind to thoughts of Kurt and everything he had left behind. Hed regretted that night ever since, but he had no way of contacting Kurt and he wasnt confident enough to think Kurt would forgive him for running away.

While Daniel was the bright star in his life, after rocking the baby to sleep Blaine too often went to bed crying for what could have been.

It was when Daniel was three that Blaine thought he might do well in a daycare several days a week. Daniel was a bright boy, but he didnt have many children his age to play with. Blaine had read that letting children Daniels age have exposure to a group of peers would help him to socialize when he was of school age. Blaine asked friends, read reviews, and finally decided on Best Pals as a daycare for his son. Everything went very well until the day he went to pick Daniel up and he was missing.