Aug. 25, 2013, 8:11 a.m.
Laundry Room Escapades
Goodbye, Physics...: Chapter 22
M - Words: 2,523 - Last Updated: Aug 25, 2013 Story: Closed - Chapters: 30/? - Created: Jul 25, 2012 - Updated: Aug 25, 2013 520 0 0 0 0
It wasn't that he couldn't have afforded to get something more; as weird as things sometimes were between him and his father, he still got a decent-sized allowance every month that he was in school, as long as he kept his grades up, of course. With his roommates gone for the holiday, though, and the tacit agreement that he not come home except during summers, it didn't make sense to do anything extravagant and so he fell back on tradition.
Growing up in the Anderson household meant growing up with mostly-absent parents. As the surprise baby that he was, being eight years younger than his older brother, his mother had doted on him, but even his admittedly irresistible cuteness couldn't compete with the will of Theodore Anderson, who had made it known on more than one occasion that there was no need for a second son and his existence was superfluous, and so most holidays found Blaine alone with only a maid --a lovely young girl named Brigitte-- for company while his parents and Cooper went out to some society function.
When he was older and realized just how warped their parents were, Cooper's hero-worship of their father disappeared and he had been keen to apologize to Blaine and show him that he cared, but by that point in time, Blaine was already quite happy with the routine he and Brigitte had fallen into for holidays: Blaine would put together the grilled cheese sandwiches, cooking them under the older girl's supervision while she made the most delicious tomato soup ever, and then they would sit down and watch Disney's Cinderella, of whom Blaine swore up and down Brigitte was the spitting image.
The older he got, the longer an attention span he had, and as the years went by, one movie turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into marathons that would sometimes span an entire weekend, depending, of course, of whether or not his parents were simply across town or across the country. He had no misconceptions on where his love of Disney came from; he had sung along to every song with Brigitte, who, despite being rather tone-deaf herself, encouraged his love for the music, and it was to her that he first played 'A dream is a wish your heart makes' on the grand piano in the foyer when he was six years old.
Holidays were probably the best times he had had at home, even if his family was absent, and looking back, Blaine decided he wouldn't change a thing.
This year, however, was the first year that he was all alone. Cooper was filming for some murder mystery show, his parents were once again out of town --not to mention his father wouldn't want his company anyway, Jake was dining with Santana and her family ("I'm telling you, dude, she totally loves me."), his other roommates were MIA as usual, and though he might have the money to go home if he wanted, to be perfectly honest, it was more than a little ridiculous to go home to spend time with a maid who now had a family of her own and was probably loving having holidays off now that Blaine was at school.
And really, so what if he was all alone on Thanksgiving? He was a big boy, he could take care of himself...
And he really did make a mean grilled cheese sandwich.
That didn't stop him from salivating as he looked again at the picture Kurt had sent him, and he texted back, Looks delicious, I'm jealous.
Though Kurt was probably eating himself, Blaine had barely taken a bite of his own food before he got a response.
Don't tell me you people think turkey is too unoriginal and have something weird like sushi or pizza.
He laughed at the thought of his parents indulging in either of those things. Of course, sushi could be refined, he knew, but he somehow had the feeling Kurt was referring to a sushi bar more than restaurant.
I wish, he responded, and snapped a photo of his partially eaten sandwich to send along.
Another quick response made him laugh out loud.
I take it your mother's not much of a cook?
"I wouldn't know, actually," he said aloud and shook his head.
Celia Anderson wasn't a bad mother, exactly. Sure, she followed his father around like a dog on a leash and by so doing would inadvertently ignore her youngest child; but when Blaine had her attention, he had all of it. She was bright and warm and had helped a great deal when he had come out almost eight years ago in protecting him from his father's disgust. Of course, her helping often meant distracting him with another party and leaving Blaine all alone, but he could see the love in her eyes when she looked at him, and he couldn't begrudge her her sometimes unhealthy fixation with his father.
That love, however, didn't translate to the domestic side of motherhood. It wasn't she who had taught him how to do his own laundry, nor was it she who helped him learn how to fend for himself in the kitchen. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know how to do those things herself, or if she simply didn't have the time. After all, what was a house full of maids for if not to do all the more 'plebeian' tasks of the house?
Such philosophical questions were a bit much for a text message, though, so Blaine settled for the simple facts.
Mother is at some function with my father in Boston.
You mean they left you alone on the holiday? What kind of cruel parents would do that to their own kid?
He chuckled a little bit at the reply; he could see the outrage on Kurt's face, and it warmed his heart to know that he cared, even if only in the simplest of ways.
I'm afraid it's even worse that that, he typed out, a grin spreading across his face. I'm solo mio in Montana this holiday. :)
He grin faltered and he blinked as he hit send.
Solo mio? What the hell?
"God, you're a dork," he muttered, and then jumped as his phone vibrated in his hand. And then kept vibrating. "What the..."
He blinked as Kurt's name flashed on his caller id along with the picture he had secretly taken when he was talking to Rachel last weekend.
"You're such a creeper," he said to himself, and then pressed accept.
The 'hello' barely passed his lips before Kurt started in.
"Blaine Anderson, what do you mean you're all by yourself? What kind of parents leave their kid to starve on Thanksgiving? And grilled cheese? Seriously? I could do better than that. In fact, I did. You get your butt over here and help yourself to some supper, because heaven knows we've got plenty. Though Sam and Britt are making a pretty good dent, but Rachel's vegan, you know, so she won't eat half of it, and I don't know about Quinn, but Sunny, she's just a baby, so obviously she can't eat much. And the parade is playing on the TV and I think we're watching football afterwards, though I shudder at the thought, and--"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Blaine finally cut in, a wide smile creeping across his face. "Kurt. Did you just invite me over for your Thanksgiving dinner?"
"I--" Kurt paused, and Blaine could almost see the blush creep across his face as he took in a slow breath, and his smile widened further. "Yes. Yes, I did. You're in your dorm, right? So are we. Come over." He then added, "Please."
"Well, since you said please..."
"Blaine."
"I'm on my way," he replied, standing and moving to put his half-eaten sandwich in the refrigerator. "Should I bring something along?"
"Just your funny, sunny self."
"Absolutely," he laughed, grabbing his coat, and heading out the door.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~
"Again, again, again!"
Blaine couldn't help but laugh at the little girl bouncing on his lap as the end of Cinderella played on the screen they sat in front of.
When he had mentioned the old tradition to Kurt, he had been attacked --or at least caught up in a human sandwich-- by Sunny and Brittany with demands to watch the old Disney film now, now, NOW. The others in the room, while clearly laughing at the two girls, had chimed in their agreement, and he had dashed back to his room and settled for grabbing the boxful of DVDs rather than trying to pick out one from the unorganized mess. The moment he had pulled out Cinderella upon his return, though, Rachel had commented on how Beauty and the Beast was much more musically complex, and had started on a rant about the Broadway show versus the original Disney production, but had cut herself short when Quinn took her hand and suggested they sit down and enjoy the show. The blush that rose suited the diminutive girl quite well, and Blaine, though surprised at the relationship between the two, especially when he had realized who Quinn was --he had seen her around campus a few times, but never spoken with her personally, thought he had never seen a cuter couple.
At Sunny's bubbling demand, Rachel chimed in again, "Princess, don't you think we should give the other Disney princesses a chance?"
"Rachel," Kurt said simply, a wealth of warning in his tone to not push it, and Blaine struggled not to grin as he watched the dynamic play out amidst Kurt and his family members.
"What?" she returned, wide-eyed and so innocent looking that he almost believed she was. "I'm not saying it has to be Belle, but even Pocahontas or Rapunzel, Tiana, Jasmine...and Aurora, sure she slept her way to happily ever after, but she was a coloratura, Kurt. She deserves praise just for that."
"I'm not sure I'd classify her as coloratura..."
"Please, Kurt, I know what I'm talking about."
He raised a brow but only nodded, before a smirk appeared on his face.
"And what about Snow White?" Kurt simpered, and Rachel looked like she was going to be sick at the suggestion while Quinn laughed.
"Do not mention that heinous...I mean, God, Kurt, I could sing better than that when I was two."
"Daddy, what's hay-us?" Sunny frowned, and Kurt corrected gently, "Heinous. It means yucky, baby. Aunt Rachel doesn't like Snow White's singing."
"I think she's pretty," Brittany said simply, and Sunny nodded emphatically while Rachel groaned.
"Kurt, what have you been teaching these girls?"
"That it's perfectly okay to have your own opinion about things," he smiled, and she scowled at him.
"Hey, what about Mulan?" Sam put in from his seat on the floor. "She's pretty bad-ass."
"And not a princess, Sam," Rachel scoffed. "She doesn't even marry a prince."
"She almost does, in the second film," Blaine interjected, and they all turned to him in surprise. "Um, so I've watched all of the movies, sequels included?"
Before any of them could think of how to reply to that statement, Sunny turned around in his lap and put her hands upon his face gently, and Blaine felt his eyes widen as she looked up at him, a serious look of contemplation on her face.
"Um, Sunny, baby, what are you--" Kurt began when she spoke.
"Do you have Robin Hood? The real one? That's Daddy's favorite. And Maid Marian, she could be a princess," she nodded at her own statement, and Blaine felt a smile creeping across his face only to still as he looked up and saw that all eyes were on him.
"Um..." he blinked and told himself to focus his gaze on the little girl as he replied, "Yes, Sunny, I do have that one. And I always counted Maid Marian as a princess myself, too," he added, his tone conspiratory, and Sunny grinned, her eyes bright and beautiful, and if Blaine hadn't been in love with the little girl before, he definitely was now.
"I'll get it from the box," she offered, hopping off his lap. "I remember what it looks like."
As she dashed off, Blaine became aware once more of all the eyes turned on him, and he blushed awkwardly.
"So..."
"You're about the cutest thing I've ever seen," Rachel gushed suddenly, and Blaine laughed in surprise.
"You've definitely got that girl wrapped around your finger," Quinn smirked a little, and he shrugged before looking at Kurt.
"I'd have figured you had that one yourself," he began, remembering that conversation from when he had first come over, and Kurt blushed a little himself. He almost didn't catch Kurt's words, so taken was he with the way the color splashed across his cheekbones, and the light in those stormy eyes of his.
"We watched it a lot this summer, and, well, we kind of wore out the DVD."
Blaine couldn't help but laugh, and grinned wide as Kurt's blush deepened.
"Lucky for you, then, that I've got that one."
"Whatever," he rolled his eyes. "Just don't get any ideas about singing along with Friar Tuck when he comes on."
"Hey. Did I sing to Cinderella?"
Kurt opened his mouth, and then shut it with a frown. "No. You didn't. Did he?" he turned to ask Rachel, and she shrugged.
"I didn't hear a thing."
Blaine noticed a smirk forming, and saw that Kurt had noticed it, too, but before either of them could question her, Sunny ran up to Blaine, DVD in hand, a bright smile on her face as she proclaimed, "I found it, Blaine, I found it!"
"Good job, Galinda," he grinned, and her eyes sparkled as she laughed and handed the case to him. "So is everyone okay with Robin Hood?"
"That's fine with me," Quinn smiled, pulling Rachel in close, and Rachel nodded as she blushed afresh.
"Just let me get some more of those potatoes, and I'll join you," Sam began as he stood and headed for the kitchen.
"Ooh, I want some more turkey," Brittany gasped, following him, and Kurt called after her, "Don't eat so much you get sick, Britt!"
"Duh, Kurt," she rolled her eyes at him, and Kurt grinned, and Blaine felt his own lips curve as he knelt by the DVD player to put in the disc.
He had changed up his tradition this year: turkey instead of grilled cheese, football and live-action flicks instead of all cartoons, Kurt instead of Brigitte. And Blaine had never had a better Thanksgiving in his entire life.