Sorry for the super extended delay. I fractured my wrist, so it takes me for ever to type stuff out. Thank god its my left one – I can still write! And also I had no idea how to continue it. I don't believe in plans ;P
Christmas Shoes
Chapter One: Today's the Day
Disclaimer: I don't own glee; I'm not clever enough to come up with little purple purses popping out of mouths. I don't own the italics paragraph either, I got it straight from a quote. (L'ezu Atelier - fibre2fashion) but I won't say anymore because I don't wana spoil it.)
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As the leaves start to fall from the trees, you know the seasons are changing. The temperature starts to descend. Each day it gets colder and colder. The days get shorter and the nights longer. Slowly it becomes winter and the weather becomes bone chilling. One morning as you're on your way out the door, you feel the real chill. The kind of chill that means Winter is here. The temperature has finally hit freezing. As your body shakes from the cold your nose starts to run. There is frost covering everything. It's as if everything is frozen. You start to clean the ice off your car as you notice a few snowflakes falling from the sky. It starts as just a few maybe ten or twenty as the day goes on it slowly picks up. The anticipation is thrilling.
This afternoon, one of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, though it had looked so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shining on it.
Kurt Hummel found himself, on this drab day to be firmly planted in front of a wide window of a small Lima store, divided from all the others by a white fence from the street, and with a pear-tree and two or three plum-trees overshadowing it, and some rose-bushes just in front of the parlour-windows. The trees and shrubs, however, were now leafless, and their twigs were enveloped in the light snow, which thus made a kind of wintry foliage, with here and there a pendent icicle for the fruit.
The large binder, so full of plans and ideas, seemed to be busting at the plastic bindings. It seemed to be quite a chore, keeping all the papers in place inside the rings. But as the slim fingers drummed across the dark blue and a shy smile took the place of a frown Kurt sighed wistfully. He knew that somewhere, under the sparkling sun, kids were rolling the snow together, tossing it happily at others.
Winter, in Kurt's mind, was the best of the seasons, even if it only lasted a few months in Ohio. The snow, the cold it made everything look new and clean and sparkly. Christmas just wouldn't be the same without snow. Weddings just wouldn't be the same in the summer.
That's where he was now, by the way, in My Lady. Lima Ohio's own little wedding gown shop. The single decent clothing shop in Allan Country, Ohio.
For the bride to stand out, the most important part to her is her wedding gown. The most amazing piece of clothing that she'll ever wear. Every woman dreams of that "perfect" gown. Although, a wedding wouldn't have that finally special touch if it was not for that perfect gown, the one that everyone will be talking about for a lifetime. Picking out that perfect gown takes time and effort. One has to decide on the cultural, formality, color, size, style, material, accessories, money, coordinating with the rest of the wedding, and finally, trying to please everyone's taste.
Kurt sat across from an elderly, withering woman who wore the deepest scowl he had ever seen. Every time she looked at him his skin would crawl. Right now he could feel her beady little eyes boring into his skull, try to figure out just what a young teenage man was doing helping his step-mother to be pick out a wedding dress. Senior Mrs. Hudson scared the begibies out of him.
Carol had just come out in an off-white, cleverly elaborated ball gown and hand-beaded corset. Kurt thought it looked lovely, but the skirt came just slightly above her ankles, and they wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect.
"It makes you look like a stumpy dwarf," as Mrs. Hudson had said. Which proceeded glares from a close to tears Carol, and exhausted My Lady employee and a furious Kurt.
He had been so thrilled when Carol asked him to come. Felt so...accepted. Sure, his father said that Kurt could do the planning, but, really, who else would do it at such a short notice? Finn?
An hour and a half later, Kurt was ready to murder the old lady with his blue Bic pen. She shot down all the dresses and wouldn't tell them what she was looking for.
"Hey! Hey you! Boy!" Kurt rolled his head off his current position (staring out the window, head in hand) and blinked at the senile woman.
He was about to ask just what she could possibly want when Carol walked into the room, smiling, glowing, the perfect picture of excellence. She looked absolutely fabulous, and this was the dress. The Dress. The employee followed closely behind Carol, narrowing her eyes slightly when Senior Hudson shuffled in the seat.
Kurt placed the binder on the window ledge, taking a second to ensure that it wouldn't fall, scatter papers on the floor and create devastating mess. Like the other day, curtsy of Finn. Carol swayed into the room, brushing the light, classic veil slightly away from her rosy, grinning cheeks.
"So? What do you think?" Carol enquired, wobbling in a turn, showing off the dainty over coat.
Kurt bounded out of his chair, completely ignoring the elder, "Carol, you look fabulous! It's perfect!"
"The gown is made out of Italian silk in a diamond color that flatters you're mothers complexion. The pleating is diagonal, elongating her figure and enhancing the waist line. Another feature of the dress is a shrug made out of French cotton lace embellished with clear and white beagle beads." The sales clerk, sensing a sale, announced, flourishing her hand over each mentioned part.
Kurt clamped their hands together, the diamond of the engagement ring pressing tightly into the calloused pads that were his palms, "Do you love it?"
Carol nodded, eyes glossing over and dazzling white smile, once again, over taking her face, "I really, really do, Kurt!"
"We'll take it," Kurt said, folding his arms around his step-mother and nodding at a grinning sales clerk.
The walker squeaked and the three of the groaned, knowing what was coming, "Hold on one minute, bucko! Let me see!" Carol stood, still like a statue, as her evil mother wobbled around her, nodding and grunting. "Well. You're not that young, so it's the best you'll find."
And from Senior Mrs. Hudson, that was a blessing.
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As the last guest left the wooden doors of the chapels, the four Hummel's let out a long sigh. Grinning ear to ear; smile reaching their eyes, making it an honest smile. It had been one hell of a long night.
Finn couldn't quite comprehend that they were now a family. That Kurt was no longer his almost step-brother, but was now his official step-brother. Burt was no longer the guy who dated his mom. He was the guy that was his step-father. The reception had been beautiful. No thanks to his brother. Dancing with his mother hadn't even been embarrassing, dancing with Kurt, a boy, hadn't even been embarrassing.
Kurt couldn't believe that he had finally accepted Carol as his mother. She would never, could never, replace his own mother. But the whole in his chest had been filled. The one that had been there for far too long. And Finn singing to him (And Rachel and Carol) had been such a treat.
Burt and Carol led their boys into the chilly night, grinning up at the twinkling stars and at the moon lit snow. They stood in the middle of the doorway, staring up at the sky, on sort of a high. Burt finally found the sense to pull off his coat and drape it over his bride's shoulders, leaving a casual arm stretched over top and allowing her to rest her head upon his broad shoulder.
The parents started to move towards the parking lot, not noticing that their feet hurt from dancing, or the tiredness that had settled into their bones. Kurt dropped his gaze to his parents and smiled softly, wrapping his arms around the better part of his torso. He willed his feet forward, dragging his heels quietly through the snow.
He wished that he wouldn't have to return home; his father and his mother deserved a night alone on their wedding day, but what choice did he really have?
Whap!
Cold liquid mixed with his fine hair, dripping to his shoulders and creating little caves in the snow beneath his feet. He stared towards his parents, who, by now, had slid into the warmth of the vehicle. Clad with white ribbons and a 'Newly Weds' banner strapped across the back window.
He ran a hand through his hair, the back of his neck gathering in a spawn of goose bumps. The snow melted against his reception-warmed hands, dripping from his fingers to the ground. Kurt spun and pointed an accusing finger at his brother.
"Finn!"
The taller of the two scuffled his feet, pushing the snow into a tiny bank, looking a bit ashamed, but he couldn't wash the smile off his face. "Sorry, bro…"
The sound echoed between the two, engulfing the night with the foreign word and dissolving the goose bumps. Finn shuffled forward, snow caving into his black shoes, covering his dress pants in a fine white powder. He passed his brother, head bowed and picking at his nail. He almost felt bad, but, at the same time, he felt it was necessary.
For the same reason a return fire met his broad back, leaving a circular imprint of snow in the dead center.
Finn spun and stalked back to his paling friend, who was backing up quite hastily. "Brother Dear," Kurt pleaded, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching snow drift, "Think about what you're doing." But these words had no effect, for Frankenteen had grinned evilly, teeth flashing in the light of the street lamp. "Don't you da-!"
The rest of the sentence was lost as the boy went flying backwards. Finn wasn't on the football team for no reason; he could give a mean tackle. The snow drift parted for the warm bodies, caressing them only as they rested against the frozen ground.
Kurt pushed the heavy teen off himself, rolling him deeper into the drift before stumbling back to the icy pavement and brushing the snow from his coat, his pants, his shoulders, his hair. Finn stumbled out, much less gracefully but grinning much wider.
"You'll pay for that, bro."
"I'm shaking."
"I know where you sleep, Finn."
"Like five feet from you? I wasn't sure if you noticed."
"You take up, like, half the room. How could I not notice?"
"You missed a spot," Finn said, skipping forward to catch up with his brother pointing vaguely to a clean spot on the black suit.
"Where?" Kurt, always the fashionista, panicked and brushed his hands down the fine material, looking for a spot that hadn't been swept off.
"Right…here…." Finn giggled, smacking his brother on the top of his head with a clump off snow before dancing backwards towards the parking lot.
Kurt gasped, shaking his head in attempt to rid the cold flakes from his hair, before glaring through the darkened night, "You're so going to pay!"
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Tired feet thumped down the stairs, shaking the white wood, melted snow dripping to the paint. Shinning point black dress shoes thumped in two pairs at the bottom of the steps, larger shoes bordering the smaller ones, black laces weaving and crossing in an un-kept manner.
Black jackets were shed and hung carefully in a shared closet, a pool of water slowly gathering on the tile bellow them. Socks and shirts and shorts were thrown into a black wicker basket, dampening the clothes beneath them. Ties were hung over chairs, pants soon to follow.
The brothers stumbled in the semi-darkness to their separate dressers, eyes slumping half-shut and yawns engorging their rosy cheeks. Kurt sat on his bed and slowly pulled on his black and red flannel bottoms, hands trembling with a yawn every few seconds with buttons of the top.
Finn, on the other hand, had given up on trying to find a clean shirt and, instead, crawled under his blue covers, pulling them to his chin and snuggling deeper into the feather pillow that his brother had insisted on. Though he couldn't see anything, not to the lack of light, but because his eyes refused to open, he could hear the small boy fold himself under the duvet.
"Hey Kurt?"
The respond was slurred and slow in coming, "Yeah, Finn?"
"I'm really glad you introduced our parents at that parent-teacher thing."
"So am I."
Finn paused for a moment, waiting for the soft sighs of sleep to creep from the other side of the room, "And I'm really glad you don't have a crush on me anymore."
"Me too."
"When do I get to meet that Blaine guy?" Wither his younger brother had fallen asleep, or used the morning hours to fake sleep and avoid the question, Finn would never know. Though he was pretty sure, a few minutes latter, in his practically asleep faze, he heard a mumbled 'never'.