And here, we meet the Andersons. They are by far the funnest parents I've ever had to write. Also, the only parents I've ever had to write. But still a blast! LOL. BTW - Francis Drake did exist. I had to research him. Look it up! XD
Kurt stepped onto the runway, his mind still reeling from the fact that he had just flown from Lima, Ohio, to Los Angeles, California, by private jet. Blaine Freaking Anderson had his own private freaking jet.
He, Blaine and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson has left that morning from Lima, and had touched down about 10 minutes ago, on a private airstrip set aside at Los Angeles International Airport, or L.A.X, as Blaine pointed out to him.
Mr. Anderson made sure the bags were placed into the trunk of what Kurt assumed to be the rental car, and motioned everyone to get into the car, opening the door for his wife.
"Don't forget to pick up Eric, Jeff." Mr. Anderson mentioned casually to the rather large black man who stood at attention next to the car. "He won't be happy if you forget him again," Blaine, and both Anderson parents all erupted into giggles, as a slow blush crept up Jeff's face.
"Honestly," He remarked with a foolish grin on his normally stoic face. "You forget a guy once, once, I tell ya…" And he nodded his head, closed the door behind Mr. Anderson, and walked quickly back to his non-descript black Cadillac.
All three Anderson's burst out laughing, and even Kurt giggled a bit. Once they had calmed down, Mr. Anderson pulled out of the airport, heading north on the 405, until they hit the Santa Monica Boulevard, and ending up at a lovely mansion just off of it.
As the gates opened, Kurt blinked softly from the back seat, next to Blaine, who was too busy watching Kurt's reactions to check out the scenery around him.
"So, Kurt," Mrs. Anderson said from the front seat. "How do you like our home?" Kurt gasped gently, his mind whirling frantically.
"But I thought you lived in Westerville?" He managed to croak out. They laughed softly, clearly amused.
"We actually have 4 homes. Well, unless Dad's bought any more?" Blaine questioned the man who was pulling the car to a stop in front of the nicest house Kurt had ever seen, even in movies.
"Hey!" Mr. Anderson frowned. "Just because I bought the lake house without consulting you doesn't mean I'll go out and buy any more. Well, unless I really, really want it… or your mother does…" He added thoughtfully, sending a dazzling smile at his wife, who returned it.
Blaine erupted in more laughter, joined after a moment by his parents and Kurt. Just then Jeff arrived, with a slight, wiry Asian man. They pulled up behind the Cadillac, and Mr. Anderson started pulling bags out of the trunk of the car.
"Sir, you know you're not supposed to be doing that," A soft voice called from the front door, and a short, plump, middle-aged woman toddled out from the front door of the house. She walked briskly down the stairs, taking hold of a couple of the bags and preparing to take them up into the house.
"Now, Mary," Mr. Anderson chided gently, as he removed the bags from her grasp. "I'm more fit to take these up than you are. You only had surgery a few weeks ago, you should be taking it easy." He looked at her critically. "You seem to be doing well, though." Mary blushed softly.
"I am, and thank you, Sir." She turned to Mrs. Anderson and hugged her softly. "Welcome back, Miss." And then she turned to Blaine and Kurt.
"And you, young man, are looking as good as ever!" She pulled Blaine into a tight embrace, patting his back softly and leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks, Mary," Blaine blushed a rosy pink, and introduced Kurt. "This is Kurt. He's my… well, my everything, really." Mary turned a kind eye to Kurt, pulling him into a gentle hug as well. Stepping back, she surveyed the boys, both quite scarlet at this point. Nodding her head, she grinned.
"And about time, too." Kurt and Blaine both flushed a bit deeper, and Mary turned back to the house, noticing that Mr. Anderson and Jeff had taken all the bags into the house. "Mr. Anderson, you should be letting me do that!" And she took off, as fast as she could, headed inside where her voice was muffled by the distance.
Blaine coughed gently, his blush slowly receding.
"That's Mary. She's been with us for quite a while now. She sometimes comes to Ohio with us, but mostly she prefers to stay here, and make sure the house is taken care of. She has spattergroit," Kurt laughed right out loud, at the Harry Potter reference, interrupting Blaine, who smiled as well.
"Actually, it's a really long disease, whose name I simply can't remember at this particular time. She went for surgery about a month ago, and had to stay in the hospital for a week. That's the week that I was gone on Monday and Tuesday. I wanted to be here for her, since Mom and Dad were overseas. She worried more about me and whether I was going to burn down the house, than herself." He looked at he door, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "She can be a bit overprotective sometimes, but she was one of the best friends I had growing up." He added fondly. Looking back at Kurt, he saw his boyfriend smiling gently, a whisper of concern and confusion evident in his eyes.
"She was my nanny when I was younger. And since I was a handful, I can't say as I envy her that job." Blaine answered the unspoken question.
"Ahhh," Kurt replied softly. Taking his boyfriend's hand, Blaine led Kurt into the beautiful house, and Kurt took that opportunity to rubberneck and look at everything around him. The house was decorated tastefully, expensive knickknacks placed on random surfaces, with gentle touches of family located around the hall they first stepped in.
On the wall up the staircase, there were family pictures, on the table by the door was a bowl for keys and whatever else was in pockets, and an old fashioned coat rack was located by the door to the cellar, closer to the other end of the hallway.
To the right was what Blaine called the den, but Kurt called a living room. A couple of couches were placed face to face, a coffee table between them, and a fireplace nestled in the wall opposite where they were standing.
More pictures were on the wall, a couple of Blaine, but mostly of scenery, with a beautiful clipper ship oil painting above the fireplace. The room was done in subtle autumn colours, with dark reds, greens, yellows and oranges. The blues, greens and whites of the ship above the mantle made it stand out as the focal point of the room.
"Wow," Kurt breathed. Blaine looked in the room, and smiled at his boyfriend.
"Yeah, it kind of just stands out, doesn't it?" He followed Kurt's eyes to the ship on display. He led Kurt closer to the painting, settling them on the couch while he began recounting a story.
"Apparently, legend has it, this is the ship of the dread pirate Francis Drake. Ever heard of him?" Kurt shook his head softly, staring up at the ship cutting through the deep blue water, gulls flying around the sails. He could almost imagine himself on the ship, the rolling of the sea under his legs as they sailed through shark-infested waters.
"Well, from what I've been able to find out, he was born of puritan parents. He started out being an officer in the royal navy, but ended up becoming a pirate. It was more lucrative, you see." Kurt nodded, allowing Blaine's story to filter through his imagination, incorporating the information into his daydream. "Essentially, he was recruited by Queen Elizabeth to be a privateer. That means he was actually allowed to attack and sink other ships, as long as they were enemies of Queen Elizabeth. This went on for years and years, and when he got back home, she knighted him. The name of his ship was the 'Golden Hind'. That is, supposedly, her." Blaine ended, his hand waving at the ship mounted on the wall.
Kurt blinked, his eyes twinkling merrily at the thought of Sir Francis, sailing around the world, doing the good work of Queen Elizabeth. He stared up at the painting for a few more seconds, before turning to Blaine with a huge smile.
"And no, dear, before you ask, we do not have a clipper ship you can play on," Mrs. Anderson called from the doorway. Both boys started, turning to her. She was leaning gently on the doorframe, enjoying the story Blaine had been spinning.
"Mary advises me that there is a total of two minutes left before lunch is ready, boys. Anyone hungry?" She laughed merrily when Blaine jumped up and pulled Kurt up with him.
"Starving!" Blaine commented. "I'll just take Kurt upstairs, and we'll wash our hands, and we'll be right back!"
"You know, Blaine," Kurt grinned at his bouncy boyfriend, who yanked him bodily up the polished staircase to the second floor, pointing him to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. "Technically, children in Africa are starving. You're just a bottomless pit." Blaine entered the room after Kurt, pushing up his sleeves, and wetting his hands carefully.
"True. True," Blaine replied, smile on his face. After thoroughly washing, they returned downstairs to the clatter of plates being picked up by Mary, his parents, and Eric. Kurt grabbed the jug of juice, and followed everyone out onto the back patio. Placing it on the large outdoor table, he took a moment to look out over the expansive grounds, empty of people, but not of objects.
There was what looked like a large workshop to one side of the house, a playground set to the other side, and what looked to be a stable farther down the slight incline.
"Wow," Kurt breathed again, his eyes as big as saucers. Blaine wandered over to Kurt's side, placing his hand gently at Kurt's waist, pulling him closer. Kurt looked at Blaine, asking for explanation.
"Yes that's an actual stable. I grew up loving horses, and when we could finally afford one, I begged and begged for a horse of my own." Blaine laughed gently at Kurt's face. "What? Didn't you ever want anything as child? Things you would do anything for?"
Kurt's face pinked slightly, as he mumbled under his breath.
"I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't quite hear that," Blaine murmured softly.
"…A pair of sensible heels…" Kurt quietly mentioned, and told Blaine the story about when he was three and what he had wanted for his birthday.
At that, Blaine laughed, long and loud, and even Kurt had to smile at the reaction his revelation had received.
"If you boys are quite finished regaling each other with stories, I think we'd like your presence at the table to help us eat this," Mr. Anderson smiled benevolently at the pair, and motioned to chairs at the table. "Mary, you're part of the family, so you sit and eat too. Jeff, Eric, would you like to sit with us as well?"
Mary sat beside Kurt, her gentle smile and quick wit keeping him on his toes, as she bantered back and forth with Blaine and his parents.
In all, Kurt was quite certain he hadn't had such a lovely meal in quite some time.