Charlotte slept fitfully that night, waking up several times in a fit of shivers or with beads of sweat glistening on her pale, scared face. Kurt and I continued to wake when she did, and we did our best to soothe her back to sleep. We sang a fair bit – Charlotte liked our harmonies to Baby, It’s Cold Outside best – but it wasn’t too long before the 9:00am alarm we’d set had gone off.
Kurt and I were exhausted. It couldn’t be helped, and it was all for looking after Charlotte, which neither of us had a problem with. But it was still taxing to our bodies to have never really achieved a state of proper REM sleep.
As Charlotte was slowly waking and Kurt was doing the same, I took the opportunity to beat everyone to the kitchen. I made coffee for Kurt and I and a hot chocolate for Charlotte before bringing them back into Charlotte’s bedroom, only to find her and Kurt harmonising to a song I’d never heard before.
“Hot drinks! I’ve got some – Whoa, what are you two singing?” I asked, puzzled and entertained.
Kurt and Charlotte stopped harmonising and began laughing. “Oh, just Fragile,” Kurt responded.
“Fragile. Who’s it by?”
“Kylie Minogue,” Charlotte answered quickly, with a broad smile showing on her face in contrast to the deep circles tainting her beautiful face.
“Kylie Minogue, eh? Going for the Aussies?”
“Australians can make some good music, I must admit,” Kurt said, before standing to accept his coffee from me and press a kiss to my cheek.
“Well, as long as you don’t bring up Keith Urban, I think I can agree with you on that one.”
Charlotte gasped in shock. “Blaine! Don’t be mean! He’s got good music!”
I frowned at her. “Not as good as your dear brother, I hope.”
“You’re right,” she grinned. “Dyl makes some exceptional music!”
I was taken aback by her sharp, eager response, and laughed and smiled with her as she did the same. It was good to see her actually enjoying herself, though the purpling patches underneath her eyes still kept her ordeal in my mind. I knew that she wasn’t going to get better overnight, but with the way she interacted, I felt a sense of hope emerging. Maybe all wasn’t as lost as I’d originally thought.
After consuming the entirety of our hot drinks and singing a few other Australian songs – it’d turned into an ACDC/Men at Work/Katie Noonan medley somehow, despite the massive leaps in genres – Kurt, Charlotte and I trudged into the kitchen to face breakfast. Upon reaching the kitchen counter, I found a note from Mom resting underneath a block of chocolate.
Blaine, Kurt and my beautiful Charlotte,
Dad and I have gone out for a couple of hours, we’ll tell you why later. Don and Josh have gone out for a movie, and Dyl and Katherine told us to tell you they’re getting a sonogram done. Everyone should be home around 3:30ish, but don’t count on it, especially if the boys are driving.
That’s when I saw a hasty addition to the note in purple pen, scribbled by Dylan:
Don’t listen to Mom, I’m a freaking fantastic driver.
I laughed, and then continued on with the rest of Mom’s note.
I trust that you, Blaine, and you, Kurt, can feed Charlotte and keep her happy and all that jazz. Let us know via text if you plan on going anywhere and please don’t leave the house unless you’re all together.
Also, Blaine, Jeff sent a package and a note. He said to tell you that his ‘special song written for you’ is now available on the Dalton Academy website for everyone from the school to download. Apparently their families can access it to, so Dad and I thought we’d take a look when we get home.
He also told me to tell you and Kurt to be safe. I left the package on your pillow, Blaine. I may have opened it to make sure it wasn’t maggots or something, because I know what Jeff’s like.
Love you all,
Mom. Xx
PS: This chocolate is for Charlotte Anderson only. ONLY.
PPS: But if you can, save a piece for me.
I smiled down at the note, before re-reading the ending and realising just what Mom had said. Jeff had sent over a package? We had to be safe? What?
I asked Kurt to start making some French toast (that was his specialty, after all) and headed towards my room. I opened my door and looked at the suspicious bubble-wrapped package sitting on my pillow.
I picked it up and slid my finger underneath the tape, unwrapping the package cautiously and carefully. Upon releasing the first layer, the entire contents of the package slipped out and fell onto my bed.
And there, on my bed, lay a bottle of lube, a packet of condoms, pamphlets on safe sex and a fluffy, honey-toned teddybear.
While the teddy was cute, I couldn’t help but cringe and shake my head at what Jeff had done. My mother has seen this, I kept thinking. My mother, my mother, my mother, my mother, oh dear GOD.
“Blaine?” Kurt knocked at the open door behind me.
“Yeah?”
“Are you o-? Uhm. What is that?” Kurt said, pointing at the pile of items on my bed.
“That is the lovely package our dear friend Jeff sent us.”
Kurt looked somewhat unsurprised. “Ah.”
“My mother has opened this package!”
I heard a guffaw, a sudden gasp for air and then uncontrollable laughter. I looked over at Kurt, who was now leaning over and holding onto the end of my bed for support to remain standing.
“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny! MY MOTHER HAS SEEN THIS!”
“That’s why it’s funny!” Kurt laughed even harder, noting my reaction.
“How?!”
Kurt calmed down slightly, still chuckling every now and then. “Because. She’s not bothered by it. She actually put it on your bed and made a note of passing along Jeff’s message. She must be finding this entire situation hilarious right now!”
“BUT THIS MY MOM!”
“What about Mom?” I heard Charlotte’s voice from the door and turned to see her there in my giant, over-sized Dalton sweatshirts and Winnie the Pooh pyjama pants.
Kurt snorted once more and clapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself from embarrassing us any further.
“Uh, just... Jeff sent us an inappropriate gift and Mom saw it. Something she shouldn’t have seen.”
“Condoms?” Charlotte guessed.
“Charlotte! What-? Why’d you-? How did you-? What?”
She shrugged, “You two are weirdly close. Closer than you were before I disappeared. You’re doing it, aren’t you?”
“That’s not exactly something I should talk about with you, Char,” I said, confused by her knowledge of such a topic and wanting to prevent her from getting any kinds of ideas in her head.
“Party pooper,” she said, before turning to leave. “Kurt, you might wanna get a leash for him or something. Take control. Don’t let him dominate.”
She sauntered out of the room, leaving Kurt and I standing in the same positions, mystified.
“Well that was...”
“Wildly inappropriate for my nine-year-old sister to say?” I finished Kurt’s sentence.
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“She never said anything to that effect before. At all.”
“Nothing?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“What’s going on with her?”
“I don’t know, but I guess we should be thankful that she’s at least talking to us now.”
“True...” Kurt stepped over and wrapped his arms around my waist before leaning down slightly to kiss me.
“Why don’t we just go watch movies with her or something? Get her comfortable back in her home environment?” he asked, holding onto my waist as tight as possible.
“Sounds good,” I said, before leaning in to kiss Kurt once more. As I was doing so, I heard a forced cough from the door.
Charlotte was standing there again. “Can you two stop being so adorable and just get married already? Gosh!”
I smiled. This was the Charlotte I knew. “Not that easy, Char.”
“Oh shut up, grow up and get to New York, won’t you?” she said forcefully. “I want to be a freaking bridesmaid.”
“You’ll be the most beautiful bridesmaid anyone’s ever seen,” Kurt chimed in, smiling like he’d slept with a coat hanger separating his cheeks.
“Yup. Now come watch movies.” Charlotte reached forward and grabbed our hands, dragging us to the main lounge room where we watched Friends and Confessions of A Shopaholic. Charlotte began to fall asleep on the couch, and Kurt started drifting off with his head in my lap. He looked so beautiful, just lying there and sleeping peacefully. I found myself reaching for the remote, reducing the volume of the TV, and lightly brushing Kurt’s hair from his face.
I pressed a light kiss to his forehead and smiled: I couldn’t believe I was so lucky to have Kurt. He’d truly been there for the entire family when he should have been at school. He’d done anything he could to ensure that we were okay, putting himself last. Everyone at McKinley labelled him a diva, he said, and he’d reinforced that value in me many times. But it was his selflessness and true love for the people around him that kept my mantra repeating itself in my mind: I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him...
I heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door unlocking as Mom and Dad arrived home. The minute I saw them, I pressed a finger to my lips to urge them to be quiet.
“Exhausted them, did you?” Mom whispered with a twinkle in her eye.
“Possibly,” I whispered back.
“You look deathly, son,” Dad whispered. “You should get some sleep.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried, but someone should always be there for Charlotte in case she wakes up in a fit again.”
“Again?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, she had nightmares all night last night. Kurt and I had to sing and laugh and talk with her to get her back to sleep. I don’t think she slept much, though, that’s why she’s sleeping now.”
“And Kurt?”
“Same thing. He’s been up just as much as I have.”
Mom reached forward and took my cheek in her hand. I leaned into her touch: her familiar, motherly perfume overcame me and I as I smelt freesias I was instantly relaxed.
“You’ve got a special one there, B,” she whispered, smiling faintly.
“Oh, I know...”
Xxxxx
I didn’t realise that I’d fallen asleep too until I felt my phone vibrate violently in my pocket. I looked down at the number, but my eyes were still too unfocused to see properly. I answered.
“Hello?”
“Blaine, it’s Josh, don’t hang up.”
“Don’s Josh? Hey man...”
“What? No? Your brother? No! Look, just don’t hang up!”
It finally dawned on me who it was. As sleepy as I was, I managed to shake some ferocity into my tone.
“What do you want? Why should I listen to you?”
Josh’s tone was mournful and apologetic. “It’s about what happened to Charlotte.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO CHARLOTTE?” I bellowed into the phone, effectively waking both Kurt and Charlotte and alarming Mom and Dad as they rushed into the room to see what was going on. Kurt sat up and looked at me worriedly, brushing the sleep from his eyes.
“Yeah. And please believe me when I say I’m so, so sorry about this.”
“What happened, Josh?”
“Just please, promise me you won’t hang up-“
“Tell me what the fuck happened, Josh.”
“Fine. Okay. So my Dad told me he was going away for a week. That’s cool. Whatever. I’m staying at home for a month while I look for a new apartment and –“
“Get on with it!”
“Alright, alright! Dad was gone, I had the place to myself, I heard some noises downstairs. Sounds of men drinking and whatever. Thought it might’ve been a TV or something. Went downstairs, peered through the crack in the door, and ... shit. Blaine. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“What?! WHAT?!”
“Your sister and two other girls were unconscious, lying on the pool table... the men, I guess they’re Dad’s friends, were stabbing their cigarette butts into their arms and betting on which one would—“
Josh started choking up, and I heard real tears and emotion in his voice.
“Would what, Josh?!”
“...which one would scream the most...”
“Fuck...”
“I’m so sorry, Blaine.”
“Fuck! Did you do something?”
“What do you think? Of course I did something! I ran upstairs and called the police! They came, arrested Dad and the other men and that’s how they found Charlotte.”
“How come the police didn’t tell us any of this?”
“I wanted to tell you so that I could apologise. I feel so bad for not... for not knowing or anything.”
“...I need to go.”
“Blaine, shit, please just know this isn’t my fault!”
I thought about that statement for a moment, remembering the words Josh had said the last time I saw him. He spoke of how he didn’t want to be his father. He said that his father was a bad man.
He was right. And I was ready to kill his father with every ounce of strength in my body for what he did to Charlotte.
“I know it’s not. Just... I’m gonna go. I’m gonna calm down. Okay?”
“Can I-... Can I call you later?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Blaine, how’s Charlotte?”
“She’s not great.”
With that, I hung up, unable to speak or think coherently. I sat there in rage, clenching my fists and almost shaking in anger.
“Blaine?” Mom spoke up.
“What did the police tell you?”
Mom looked down. “Everything.”
“And you didn’t think to share that with us? I had to fucking find out through my ex-boyfriend that his psychopath father terrorised my little sister! Not only that, but this is an ex that abused me throughout the relationship and tormented me for ages afterwards! You didn’t think to tell me?”
“Language, Blaine,” Dad warned.
“No! I think I have a right to be fucking pissed off right now!” I started tearing up, and I felt my throat begin to choke as the tears started streaming at a rapid pace. “You know how important Charlotte is to me! You know! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Charlotte only came back to us yesterday, B,” Mom walked towards me to hold my hand, “and she’s been attached to you since. We didn’t want to upset her by walking through it all again.”
As angry as I was, that actually made sense. I took a few deep breaths, felt Kurt’s reassuring arm wrap itself around my waist, and calmed down.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled or cursed at you like that. I apologise.”
“To be honest, son, I’m surprised you didn’t do a whole lot more,” Dad said.
“Me too,” I agreed. “Me too.”