A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses!
FYI: This is not a detective story because I totally did and will break its writing laws; Knox's Ten Commandments and Twenty rules for writing detective stories by S. S. Van Dine. In that respect, W. Allen's 'Manhattan Murder Mystery' isn't a mystery fiction, either (well, I believe that the movie should be classified into comedy, even if Mr. Allen didn't break the detective story's writing law—I discovered the other day that one of the DVD stores nearby my apartment displayed the movie on the detective story shelf. What?).
Disclaimer; I do not own Glee and its characters, and any resemblance to real persons or organizations is purely coincidental.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
When Rachel was eyeing right and left, to walk across a street with Rusty on a leash, chirpy voice stopped her from behind. She spun around. The voice came from the person she had predicted.
"Good morning, Sugar."
"Where are you going?" the young housewife asked, her face half hidden by her sunglasses.
Like the previous night, Sugar was wearing Chanel. This time was not a vintage tweed pink jacket, but a gray sweats jumpsuit, a big pink logo emphasizing its brand name on her right chest. Stepping out of the apartment building, she ran up to Rachel.
"To the dog park," Rachel informed sweetly. "And you?"
The one thing Rachel had learned over the dinner at the previous night was Sugar was talkative. One master of 'nobody speaks until I finish.' Way more than Rachel would be.
In addition, the dinner conversation had been mostly about her haute couture wardrobe. Rachel should have called Kurt to join. If she would know a subject Sugar would bring up.
And she was now going on and on as to how important her every morning jog and going to the gym regularly were for her to keep her body fitted, especially since she had a sweet tooth.
"Oh, and my husband loved your cake, so you can come over to share your recipe this afternoon. You said you're going to bake Caramel Apple Brownies, right? Text me the ingredients you need later, and I'll get them for both of us. But don't forget your utensils with you, 'cause I have none! Bye!"
"I–"
Rachel was about to politely decline, but the bubbly blonde in Chanel already turned the corner, disappearing out of her sight.
Rachel sighed. Finn was going to bowl with his friends this afternoon, and she was willing to tag along with him.
Well, she couldn't have come with her boyfriend to begin with, if the strike hadn't been conducted. So, it wasn't big of a deal for both of them, as long as she and a cake with whipped cream waited for him to get home, right? Besides, she must socialize with her neighbors to know well about them.
Rachel shrugged and began to cross a street.
"You don't come?" secretly relieved, casually asked Finn, only in a towel around his waist, as he emerged out of the bathroom.
Don't get him wrong. He wanted to spend time with his girlfriend as much as he could. He just didn't want to postpone his plan any more. Hence, he needed Mike. Out of Rachel's eyeshot.
Other than Puck and Matt, his only married friend was Mike, the only one to get him through this. Because.
Matt had moved to Cincinnati a year before.
Puck? He was on the brink of divorce (no doubt that the Mohawk made a federal case out of it though). Didn't want a jinx.
Sam? The guy who had been laughed off by his high school sweetheart attempting to give her a promise ring? No way.
Artie? He had just found out getting an STD. Uh-uh.
Kurt? Hell no. He was one of Rachel's best friends now. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. Neither did Blaine.
So, he had no other options.
Mike had been busy with his restaurant and his pregnant wife. He finally spared his schedule to join the guys' biweekly bowling. If Finn missed out on having a tête-à-tête with Mike this afternoon, his plan would be pushed back further.
"Too bad," Finn lied, wishing he sounded plausible. He grabbed his cell phone from the night table to text Mike.
"It is," Rachel responded as she put away Rusty's dog park kit into the closet. "Where do you think she keeps her clothes in the apartment?"
"Huh?" Finn shot his head up from his phone.
"Sugar. Her clothes. She probably has another apartment reserved only for her clothes and fetches them from there at night," Rachel perched herself on the edge of the bed, observing the bare back of her boyfriend. "That would be the sound I heard last night," she concluded, nodding to herself
"Rachel, no sounds were heard. Rusty'd notice before you," Finn pointed out, placing his phone on the chest of drawers, before pulling out his boxers and a pair of jeans from it.
Rachel tilted her head to one side.
Hmm. He had a point.
Wait.
No, he didn't have a point.
"Rusty gets used to the vacuum noise Mr. Figgins makes," Rachel countered. "Did you see his sleeping posture last night? On his back, Finn. He must have been worn out from his night exercise. Might well be out like a light."
"Maybe," Finn shrugged as he put his boxers on before turning around to face his girlfriend. He arched his eyebrow as he saw her licking her lips. "Like what you see?"
Instead of giving him her response, Rachel crawled backwards on the bed with her arms before lifting her skirt up, racing her own thigh with her fingertips. "Like what you see?"
Grinning, Finn slowly climbed onto the bed and caged her tiny frame on all fours on top of her. "No whipped cream?"
"Save it for later," Rahel giggled before racing her fingers along his waistband. "How much time do you have left?"
Finn smirked, leaning down his face to her, whispering in her ear.
"A round or two."
At 1 pm on the dot, Rachel knocked on Mr. and Mrs. McIntosh's door, holding a carbon box filled with her utensils in one arm. However, nobody seemed to answer the door.
Rachel pressed her ear against the door. She frowned. There was only silence.
Three more tries later, the door was finally answered. Not by Sugar, but by Biff. He frowned as he found Rachel standing behind the door. The guy looked like cranky as if Rachel forced him out of the bed. He was still in his PJ.
Rachel cleared her throat, summoning her best stage smile nonetheless. "Hi, Sugar asked me to come over at 1 pm."
"You must be wrong," Biff bluntly stated. "She's gone out. Expected to come home by the time for dinner, though." He informed petulantly.
"Are you sure?" Rachel arched her eyebrow. "She didn't say that when I saw her this morning," she started reciting the conversation with Sugar in the morning, showing the content of the box to Biff.
"But she's not here," Biff dismissed her off, rubbing his face tiredly.
"Okay," Rachel sighed, her voice deflated. "I'll be trying to reach her, but tell her to drop in at my apartment when she comes back."
"Sure," as soon as Biff threw his last word at Rachel, he shut his door in front of her face before she could say goodbye or see you later.
How rude!
Rachel huffed before turning on her heel towards her apartment.
Still annoyed at the attitude Biff had given to her, Rachel started pulling the ingredients for the brownies from her grocery bag, placing them on the kitchen counter. She, however, completely calmed down by the time she began stirring coconut whipped cream—cooking and baking always calmed her nerves.
When she pulled the Pyrex dish out of the oven and put it on the wire rack to let it cool, her cell phone buzzed. It was from Kurt.
Rachel and Kurt had gotten on so well since they first met. He was her boyfriend's stepbrother, his boyfriend was her former costar, after all. And they had a lot of common, especially in love for Broadway.
Code Yellow; Can I come over? – KEH
Code yellow? Rachel frowned as she texted Kurt back.
Sure. Do you want me to call the other girls? – Rachel*
Kurt immediately sent a reply.
Sam brought Mercedes to Kentucky with him this weekend. Quinn and Puck had a huge fight and she stays in her parents' house with her kids in New Haven. Satan and Brit, well, I have no idea where they are. And Tina is pregnant. – KEH
Hmm, which meant that he didn't want her to call the other girls, or he had attempted to reach them already.
Okay then, see you later. – Rachel*
Wondering what was wrong with him, Rachel placed her cell phone on the kitchen counter before she resumed (Finn's) coconut whipped cream.
Approximately 20 minutes later, slightly puffy eyes Kurt Hummel arrived at her apartment.
"What's wrong?" Rachel asked as soon as she answered the door. "What happened?"
Having deliberately placed his Gucci luggage by the coat rack in the entryway, Kurt mutely made a beeline for the sofa in the living room before plumping himself down into it. Rachel followed him.
Then he let out a dramatic sigh and looked up at Rachel, who was standing beside him with a worried look. "I need alcohol. I'm getting bottles of wine," he sprang to his feet to make his way over towards the pantry.
He, however, abruptly stopped when he passed by the kitchen. "No. I need this," he grabbed the Pyrex dish and the mixing bowl filled with coconut whipped cream.
"Oh, okay," confused with Kurt's demeanor, Rachel just nodded as she took the cutlery, paper napkins, and a small plate out of the cupboard, without thinking that Finn might be disappointed.
"Kurt, talk to me," Rachel said as he started devouring a piece of Caramel Apple Brownies."What happened?" Rachel examined his face, sitting on the sofa beside him.
Yet, Kurt was still mute, already reaching his second piece, splaying a big heap of whipped cream on it.
After his fifth piece, Kurt finally opened his mouth. "He cheated on me," he murmured.
"W-what?" Rachel gasped. "You mean, Blaine?"
"Of course. Who else would be?" Kurt rolled his eyes.
"But, with whom? H-how did it happen?" Rachel couldn't believe. Kurt might have been a crush on Blaine first, but Blaine seemed so much more in love with Kurt as the time passed.
Kurt took a deep breath. "You know, my company requires that I travel a lot? When I got back from the last trip, he was so emotional and weirdly sad. So, I told him to stop pretending that there was nothing wrong," he dropped his head, the prick of tears on the corner of his eyes. "He confessed that he was with someone."
"Was it," Rachel hesitated, "um, Sebastian?" she cautiously asked. She knew that Blaine's costar from Jersey Boys was aggressively coming on to him, which made Kurt jealous and furious.
"I suspected," Kurt scooped his sixth piece from the dish on his plate, "but Blaine didn't identify the guy he'd cheated with," he put another heap of whipped cream from the bowl on it.
"He was making excuses, like, he was lonely, he needed me around, it was just a hookup," he took a big bite before swallowing it thickly and turning his head to face Rachel. "Can you believe that?" he tried to hold back his tears. "He didn't think that I'd been lonely too. He didn't think that I'd had temptations. But I didn't act on it because I knew what it meant!"
"Oh, Kurt," Rachel placed her hand on his arm before squeezing it. "I'm so sorry."
"So am I," Kurt wiped underneath his eyes with his thumb deliberately before resuming his Caramel Apple Brownies.
"So?" Mike asked, perched himself across the table in a coffee shop, "what did you need to know?"
Finn and Mike managed to knock off the bowling early; they lied to the other guys, saying that Mike had to get back to work and Finn to prepare for the parent/teacher conference, ignoring Puck's skeptical eyes.
"Uh, I'm," Finn shifted on the chair nervously, "I'm going to propose to Rachel."
"Dude, congratulations!" Mike fist-bumped Finn. "And?"
"I have absolutely no idea how to propose to her," Finn rubbed the back of his neck. "So, I was thinking that you could tell me yours."
Mike nodded thoughtfully and started telling his process and proposal to Tina.
Those, however, were not so useful to Finn. For one, Mike could have a private dinner in the back kitchen of his restaurant. For another, the engagement ring he had given her was an heirloom from his family.
"Have you thought that you would ask her fathers' permission?" Mike asked after his engagement story.
Finn groaned. It was not that he had never thought about it. Actually, he was going to secretly fly to Dayton next Saturday while Rachel was on stage for a matinee and a regular performance at night. Not only that, he was going to shape his plan during the Thanksgiving holidays, purchasing an engagement ring included, by the next Sunday. However, the strike happened.
Finn let out a sigh. "Actually, I have. But, you know, the strike." he rubbed his face.
"I don't think you have to be worried about that department," Mike tried to cheer him up.
"Which one?" Finn asked with a quizzical look at the restaurant owner/executive chef.
"Her farthers' permission," Mike responded before giving him a full account of Rachel Inter-course-vention; to be or not to be.
Finn knew all too well about Rachel Inter-course-vention. He remembered she had told him as to how embarrassed she had felt after their reconciliation. He, however, didn't remember that she had told about the details of her fathers' comments.
"Wait," Finn stopped himself from chuckling, "Hiram might have given me his permission, but Leroy didn't." He gave a look to Mike. Besides, that had been long before all the things came out.
He knew that the Berrys were very open minded when it came to sex and relationships, and had much understanding of the Brody incident. That, however, didn't mean he had their blessing. Or did it?
"I think you should focus on an engagement ring," Mike pressed. "Why don't you just ask Kurt to help you out?"
"No way, uh-uh," Finn shook his head. "He can't keep his mouth shut. I'm not gonna ask him. Ever." He declared stubbornly. "Maybe I'll be asking my female colleagues at the parent/teacher conference."
"Well, good luck, anyway."
"I'm home!"
Finn called out from the front door as he threw his key into the bowl on the console table in the entryway. Then he was about to hang his coat on the clothes rack…
Something beside the rack stopped his hand.
A suitcase.
The familiar one.
"Rach? Babe? Why's K–"
Finn ceased from speaking as he entered the living room. His girlfriend and stepbrother passed out on the sofa, three bottles of wine on the coffee table. What the hell had been going on here while he had been out?
And, and… Oh, no.
No, no, no, no!
His Caramel Apple Brownies had gone!
His whipped cream had gone!
Finn dropped his head down at the realization that his stepbrother and girlfriend, for some reasons, had taken all the fun out of his night. He shook his head, beginning to put the bottles and dishes away from the coffee table…
Wait a second.
Rachel passed out. Which meant, as Mike had informed him, this was an excellent opportunity for him to measure her ring size; the third finger of her left hand.
On top of that, Finn had never seen his stepbrother look like this unarmed; snors came from his widely opened mouth, his hair went to million directions, his shirt got wrinkled, and, caramel sauce and some stains from red wine on his chest and on his chin!
Trying his best to suppress his chuckles, Finn pulled his cell phone out of his pocket before taking a picture of his stepbrother.
Satisfied. Finn smirked. Kurt deserved it; he had eaten his cake and whipped cream!
Then Finn suspended cleaning up and tiptoed over towards the bedroom, shooshing with his forefinger at Rusty following him.
Once getting into the bedroom, Finn started rummaging in her jewelry box before grabbing some of her rings, which he remembered that she would put on the third finger of her right hand more often than not.
Having managed to leave Rusty in the bedroom, he hurriedly, but quietly returned to the living room, taking a deep breath, approaching her sleeping posture on the sofa.
Damn.
Her left arm was folded under her chest.
Finn knelt down and nudged her arm a few times with his forefinger, trying to figure out that she would not wake up any minute. Then he slowly, and gently pulled her arm off in between her chest and his stepbrother's stomach.
Cleared the first hurdle.
Although almost stumbling backwards as Rachel turned over in her sleep, Finn narrowly was able to pull himself together before putting her rings one by one on her third finger.
The second hurdle got cleared.
And he finally found the one with flower shaped pink pearls was perfectly fitted the third finger of her left hand.
Big relieved. Cleared the third hurdle.
Now the only mission that he had left was taking the ring out of her finger…
"Hmm," Rachel's left hand flew up to her face and rubbed her eyes.
Finn froze, stopping himself from every move, even holding his breath, out of the corner of his eye, the rest of her rings on the coffee table.
Shit.
Rachel opened her eyes and studied the sight in front of her. Nevertheless, much to his relief, she didn't seem to find some ring on the third finger of her hand. "Hi, Finny," she finally figured what it was in front of her. Her smile, however, formed into a quizzical look. "Finn, why are you staring at me like that?"
"Um, uh–" all he could think about was her other rings on the coffee table. So, he spun around to grab them before she could see, oblivious to his knee down posture and the coffee table right behind his back.
"Awwwwwww!" Finn hit his lower back hard on the corner of the coffee table, but managing to throw his hand onto the rings last second before falling behind on the tiny space between the coffee table and the sofa.
Now wide awake, Rachel flew up from the sofa and rubbed the back of her boyfriend, who was writhing from the pain in a fetal position. "Finn, are you okay?"
Heaving a breath out, Finn just nodded, clasping the rings in his one hand on his chest.
A few minutes later, he finally caught his breath. "I-I'm fine. I just," he panted, "was going to clean this up."
"You don't have to do that," Rachel gently caressed his cheek before standing on her feet. "I'll do that," she began putting the mess on the table away. "I'll bring you an ice pack."
Then she headed for the kitchen with the dishes and bottles of wine, wondering when she put this ring on the third finger of her left hand.
FYI: Rachel Inter-course-vention is in the chapter 9 of 'The Boy Next Door,' in case that you wouldn't know.
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