Here's a funny for you. I was planning what should go in this chapter and wrote the following sentence:
Blaine leaves Kurt at his apt with the four phones.
Google Docs said that 'leaves' was an error. I right-clicked it and it suggested that I meant to type 'loves'. Evidently even Google is hoping for a little Klaine.
pinna - thank you so much!
Several people lately have mentioned concerns that I'm abandoning this story, and I think it's because I'm updating more slowly. I decided to spend a little longer editing the chapters to see if I can improve them, and I couldn't seem to find a stopping point for this one. I won't abandon the story. If I run out of things to say, I'll still bring it to some kind of conclusion, and I'm having such fun with it that I don't see myself stopping anytime soon.
Thank you all for reading, reviewing and recommending, especially those who made suggestions about Blaine being Kurt's Christmas present in reviews for chapter 47.
I don't own Glee, Project Runway or any of the songs mentioned.
"How is your set list coming?" Kurt asked as they entered the elevator.
"Not too badly. There are one or two songs I'm not familiar with, and a request that I can't figure out how to handle." Kurt raised an eyebrow in inquiry and Blaine continued. "Paul wants me to perform Lucky, and I don't see any way to change it from a duet to a solo. He says it's their song, his and Charles', so I'd like to include it if I can figure out how. Any ideas?"
Kurt grinned. "That doesn't surprise me at all. They told me they thought they were just really good friends at first. Then, on Valentine's Day …" He blushed and his voice trailed away. "You know what? That's not important. Let's try to figure out what to do about the song."
What was that about? I'll ask Paul later. He waited until Kurt began to speak again.
"Could you record one of the parts, like you did for my CD?" Kurt eventually suggested.
"I thought of that, but it would sound strange for the same person to sing all of it, sort of like singing a love song to yourself. Only J. Pierpont Finch could pull that off." Blaine's face lit up as he realized the solution was standing right beside him. "Kurt, Paul wanted you to perform at the party, too, but Heidi said she couldn't allow it. Would you record one part for me? We'll have to check with Heidi, but since you wouldn't actually be in attendance, it shouldn't be a problem. I might not be able to mention your name, though."
"I don't care about publicity, Blaine, and I want to help you, but how are we going to record it?"
"My equipment is pretty simple; I can bring it to your apartment. It's not ideal, but the party will be noisy, so if the recording isn't as clean as I'd like, it won't hurt anything. I can add some instrumentation, too." He unlocked the office door and retrieved the box of phones from his desk drawer.
"Okay. We should practice. Do you have any time tonight?"
"Sounds good to me, if you're free."
"I'll have to check my calendar," Kurt joked, "but I'm pretty sure I'm available. You said there were a couple of songs you didn't recognize. What were they?" He pushed the call button for the elevator and the doors opened immediately. "Oh, that was fast," he commented.
"One of them was 1, 2, 3, 4. I know the Jackson Five's 1, 2, 3."
"You don't know it as well as you think," Kurt teased. "It's called ABC. But I bet you know the other song, too. It's by Plain White T's." He turned to face Blaine and began to sing softly, mindful of the fact that they were in the hallway and people were probably still asleep.
There's only 1 thing 2 do
3 words 4 you:
I love you.
There's only 1 way 2 say
Those 3 words
And that's what I'll do.
I love you.
Love you, too. "Oh, of course. I thought that one was called Three Words," Blaine said sheepishly. I wonder how many love songs I could get you to sing me by pretending I don't know them.
"You might need to work on that. If you're planning to take requests, it will help to know the names of the songs," Kurt suggested as he opened the apartment door.
"Watch it, Hummel," Blaine retorted, sticking his tongue out. "Continue being mean to me and you might not get your phone." They proceeded to the living room where the girls were waiting. "Okay, I have to give a speech now," he said. "Remember not to call anyone not on your contact list, and don't talk about the show. Marisol, please pretend we had this talk last night. I'll be back in about 30 minutes to get your phones. I intended to bring breakfast for everyone, but my little sleepover messed that up. I wanted to make sure you all ate before we went to the shelter because we won't have lunch there, even if they offer, which they probably will. We'll meet in the lobby at 9:30 to go to the shelter. Marisol, was there anyone else you needed to call?" Blaine was surprised to see the look of regret briefly visit her face once again.
"No, there isn't anyone," she answered softly. "Here's my phone. I know I was supposed to give it back last night, but …"
"I was asleep," Blaine finished for her. "How professional of me."
"You have a good excuse, so don't worry about it," Annie said. "We could probably help with breakfast if it's okay with Kurt. We have quite a few cinnamon rolls left."
"Great idea," Kurt enthused. "They're much better when they're fresh, and I can make another batch later in the week. I'll fix two plates."
"Put an extra one on the plate for Mark's apartment," Marisol called after him. "I don't think Amy spent the night, but I bet she'll be back pretty early today. They got along really well last night."
"Details, girl!" Jen demanded.
Marisol laughed. "It wasn't much, but he took her hand to help her down the steps and sort of forgot to let go again, and she certainly didn't remind him. I think he was actually glad to be off the show. It would be terrible to be in love with someone and not be able to do anything about it."
Blaine shot Jen a look, but she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders slightly, not enough for anyone but Blaine to notice.
"Give me a sec to get the presents and I'll be ready," Kurt announced. "Blaine, if you can take one plate and the phones, I can get the other one."
"You'll miss your time with your dad, Kurt. Unless you want to deliver the presents yourself, let me go," Marisol suggested. "I already had my call. Are the presents labeled?"
Kurt nodded. "Chris, Ernesto, Jonny and Andrew. Thanks, Marisol. I appreciate it."
"I'm glad to do it, Sugar." She gave him a quick hug, got a bag for the presents, and picked up one plate of rolls. "Okay, Blaine. Let's go."
Annie and Kurt each took their phones to the bedroom, leaving Jen in the living room. Kurt made himself comfortable on the bed, then placed the call.
Burt answered on the first ring. "Merry Christmas, Kiddo!" he said happily. "What's new?"
"What's new? What's new with you, gnu?" Kurt replied, reviving a childhood expression. "I saw you flirting with that woman in the grocery store!"
"Hey, I wasn't flirting. I was just being friendly," Burt laughed.
"Well, whatever it was, I approve. Was that her again at the end of the video? It was hard to tell."
"Yes, Carole was so impressed with Becca that she brought her car in the next day."
"Was there really something wrong with it, or was a case of sporting goods again?" Kurt asked, referring to a customer who came in with a 'mysterious thunking noise every time I turn a corner'.
"No, it was real. She needed an oil change. But Kurt, I still think you should have written 'secured loose part' on the ticket instead of 'removed bowling ball from trunk'. Since we didn't charge him, it wouldn't have mattered and he wouldn't have been so embarrassed."
"Hmph. He was rude about it. I wasn't going to say anything but he accused us of cheating him. How could we be cheating him when the noise was gone and we didn't charge him anything? He got what he deserved," Kurt said resentfully.
"Changing the subject, did you open your Christmas present?" Burt asked with a chuckle.
"And that's another thing," huffed Kurt. "How could you do that to me?"
Burt wasn't sure what was going on. Blaine's idea had sounded like something Kurt would love. "Didn't you like your present?"
"I don't know if I like it or not, Dad. A 'mystery activity' on New Year's Eve! I have to wait nearly a week to find out what my present is. This is torture!"
"Think of it this way, Kiddo: when Christmas is long over for everyone else, you'll still be celebrating. It's like that box of chocolate - remember?"
Kurt laughed. "That chocolate was wonderful, and this will be, too; I'm sure of it. Blaine gives the best presents!"
Burt smiled. It sounded like the boys were getting to know each other. "Something you want to tell me, Kiddo?"
"Wait just a minute; you have to hear it." He ducked into the living room and smiled apologetically at Jen as he scooped up his laptop. "Okay, Dad, I'm going to put you on speaker phone. Don't talk until I tell you because your speaker will cut out when you talk and you'll miss some of it." He started the backing track for Hallelujah playing on the laptop and began to sing along. When the song was over, he took the phone off speaker. "Could you hear it, Dad?"
"Beautiful, Kurt! Did Blaine give you some music for Christmas?"
Kurt explained at length about the CD, about how special it was. Then he told Burt about the talent show, and about the rotary cutter set the girls gave him, and the fun they had making cookies. He talked about the Heidi Klaus videos and how Heidi had made a personalized one for each designer.
"She's a special lady. Did Blaine tell you the video from home was his idea?"
"No, he didn't. I think there's a lot he doesn't tell me. But speaking of 'special ladies', are you going to ask Carole out?"
"Do you think I should?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, even though Burt couldn't see him. "Dad, it's been years. You should ask her out. You deserve to be happy."
"So do you, Kiddo. Becca's having a viewing party for the next episode of Runway. I could invite her to that."
"That's weeks away," Kurt scolded. "You can't wait that long; she'll think you aren't interested. You need to call her today. See if she's free for New Year's Eve or this weekend."
"It's Christmas, Kurt. She's probably busy with family stuff or she's spending the day with her boyfriend. I don't want to bother her."
"I don't think she has a man in her life; she would have mentioned him when she and Becca were talking about working on her car. If she likes you, she'll be glad to hear from you. Just wait until after lunch to call, and be sure to tell her that you know it's a long shot for New Year's Eve. You don't want to insult her by assuming she doesn't have a date." Kurt paused to consider for a moment. "You know," he continued, "I think asking her out for the weekend or even dinner on a weeknight would be better. New Year's Eve is a lot of pressure for a first date with the whole 'kissing at midnight' thing. Take her to dinner and a movie, and if you hit it off, then ask her if she's busy for New Year's Eve."
"I have dated before, Kurt," Burt laughed. "I think I know how to ask a woman out."
"That was a long time ago. A long, long time ago."
"Hey! Show your old man some respect here."
"Call her. Today."
"All right, I'll call her." Burt was pleased that Kurt approved. He would have called Carole anyway; it wasn't like Kurt was a child, but it was nice to have his son's support. "I love you, Kiddo."
"I love you, too, Dad."
Marisol returned to the apartment while everyone was making phone calls. She stuck her head in the bedroom door while Kurt was in the middle of Hallelujah, and he motioned for her to come in. She seated herself at the desk so her back was to Kurt, got her mp3 player and headphones and put on some music to give Kurt some privacy. It was hard watching the others talk to their families. She missed her little sisters every day, but it was worse on holidays. Henri was great and one day they'd make their own family, but it wasn't the same. She wondered what they thought about her, if they ever thought about her, if they even noticed she was gone.
Kurt finished his call and looked over at Marisol. Her shoulders were slumped and she looked a little tired. He stepped into her line of sight so she would know he was finished. She took off the headphones as smiled at him. "Your presents were appreciated. All the guys were surprised. I tried to give them out quietly, so there wouldn't be any hurt feelings."
"Thank you. Did Blaine come back with you?"
"He said he needed to run home for something, but he'd be back in time to go to the shelter. What do you think we should wear?"
"I think we're going to be helping prepare and serve the meal, so I'm not wearing my best clothes," he replied, opening his closet door. "We'll probably have to do a lot of standing, too, so I'm thinking jeans, a t-shirt, my running shoes and no jewelry. I don't want to make any of the residents uncomfortable, so I'm toning myself down a little. What about you?"
"That sounds good to me, too. I like wearing skirts, but I might want to sit on the floor to play with the kids. Do you want the bathroom first?"
He nodded. "I want to ask you something before I change." He showed her the Christmas present he got from his dad.
"That sounds like fun, Kurt. I wonder what it is. There must be some kind of food involved."
"It says I can invite three people. Do you want to come along? You'd miss the Times Square trip."
"Standing in one spot for hours in the cold surrounded by thousands of strangers never did appeal to me," she laughed, "and neither do most of the traditional New Year's activities. I'd love to go with you."
Kurt removed a green henley and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans from the closet. "Blaine set it up. He says he'll tell my guests what it is, but not me, so if you want to make sure it's something you'd enjoy, you can ask him."
"Are you kidding? I love surprises! I want to have the full experience, and that includes anticipating it all week, trying to guess what it is, and being amazed when we get there. Besides, if you're going, how could it not be fun?"
Although he wouldn't have traded the experience of waking up to Kurt's singing and fresh-baked cinnamon rolls for anything, Blaine's accidental sleepover had thrown a monkey wrench into his schedule. He had promised to sing with the kids at the shelter, so he found himself rushing to his apartment to retrieve his guitar. To his surprise, an empty cab passed him on his way to the subway, so he hailed it and used the time to call his parents. He wished them a Merry Christmas and told them how he fell asleep on the job under the Christmas tree.
"That brings back memories," his mother laughed. "Once we let you camp out under the tree, we never had any problems getting you to sleep on Christmas Eve. You'll have to remember that when you have your own kids."
"Uh, yeah, speaking of kids, I … I uh... met someone," he said hesitantly. "I can't tell you any specifics because he's on the show, but I think he's the one." Even though he couldn't say as much as he wanted, it felt good to talk about it. "He's really great, Mom. He's smart and funny, and absolutely gorgeous and he sings like an angel.
"Oh, Honey, that's great," his mother said warmly. "Does he feel the same way?"
"I can't say anything to him right now, but I think he will one day. I've got to go, but we'll Skype tonight, okay? Love you," Blaine said as the cab pulled up to his apartment. He asked the cabbie to wait and dashed into his apartment.
The designers had gathered in the lobby for the trip to the shelter, phones in hand. Amy was already there, standing next to Mark but visiting with everyone. "Blaine called me a few minutes ago. He'll be here shortly and we've got plenty of time to get there," she assured everyone. "He just needed to run home to get his guitar."
"I have the box for the phones," Marisol volunteered. "Blaine said to ask you to collect them if he wasn't back." She gave Amy the box and the designers deposited their phones one by one.
"I hope all of you are joining Mark for supper after we get back from the shelter," Amy said as she counted the phones and closed up the box. "I can tell you that it's going to be great. He worked really hard on it."
"It wasn't just me," Mark said immediately. "Amy worked harder than I did, and if I had planned the meal by myself, you probably would have gotten turkey and dessert, and you definitely would have gotten cranberry sauce from a can."
"Amy and Mark will be coming back to the apartments about 1:00 to get everything ready. If any of you want to go with them, that's fine. Just let me know," Blaine said as he strode up, guitar in hand. "The rest of us will stay until 3:00 to play with the kids for a while." Blaine's eye fell on Kurt for the first time and he couldn't help but stare for a moment. How did he even get into those jeans? They're skintight. And that shirt! I had no idea he was so buff. How did I miss that?
Kurt laughed nervously as he donned his coat and began to button it. "I know, Blaine. It isn't up to my usual standard, but I thought I'd tone it down a little for the shelter. Do I look okay?"
Tone it down? If you 'tone it down' any further, you'll start a riot. "Oh, no, you're fine, Kurt. I was just thinking it's a shame you didn't make yourself a scarf. You should wear mine today, so you can see how soft and warm it it." He unwound the scarf from his neck and held it out to Kurt. "I'll just run the phones back to the office and then we can leave. Hold my guitar?"
"Okay, kids," Amy joked, "everyone pick a buddy. Sit with your buddy on the subway and stay with him at all times. I won't make you hold hands, but you need to stay with the group. We don't want anyone to get lost." The designers laughed. Most of them had been on elementary school field trips and recognized the speech. "Blaine, why don't you lead, since you know where we're going, and I'll take the rear."
"Sounds like a plan," Blaine laughed, "but before we go, I need to go over a few guidelines. It's okay to tell people you're on the show. In fact, some of the kids might ask you if you can come back, so that would be a good way to explain why you won't be able to visit again. Please don't release any details about the challenges or anything that goes on behind the scenes. Some people may not be as cheerful as you'd expect them to be, so remember that holidays are an especially hard time to be homeless. The parents will probably be putting on a brave front for the kids, and some of the kids will be doing the same for their parents. They may see you as a safe person to vent to. If that happens, just listen. They don't expect you to solve their problems; they just want a sympathetic ear. If anyone, especially a child, tells you anything that causes you concern, pass it along to a staff member. Sister Ailene runs the shelter; if you need her, just look for the woman serenely moving through the room like a tornado. Any questions?" He paused. "Okay, then. Let's hit the road. Or the sidewalk, in this case."
Sister Ailene thanked the designers warmly for giving of their time and also for the donation they made. The girls had purchased the necessities requested: soap, toothpaste and toothbrushes, deodorant, diapers, baby wipes, to name a few, but they had also gotten some luxury items. There were lipsticks and eyeshadows, candy and books for the children, lotions, lip balms, fingernail polish and remover - things that would make life a little more pleasant. Marisol told Sister Ailene about their plan to make some quilts for the children as soon as they could get to the store to purchase fabric and Sister Ailene promised to get with Marisol before the designers left to talk about it.
Normally Blaine would have worked in the kitchen, but since they had so many helpers, Sister Ailene asked if he could entertain the children until lunch was ready. Blaine got his guitar and he and Kurt sat cross-legged on the floor in the playroom. A few of the kids had been in the shelter during Blaine's last visit and immediately gathered around, but many of them were reluctant to join in and hung back around the edges of the room. "Hi, guys," Blaine said cheerfully. "I'm Blaine, and this is my friend, Kurt, and we're here to sing with you." Blaine began to strum the chords to Silent Night softly while he told the story of how it came to be written. "A long time ago, almost 200 years ago, in a place called Oberndorf, there was a church called the Church of St. Nicholas. The church had an organ. Do you know what an organ is? It has keys like a piano, but it sounds different. A piano uses hammers on wires to make the sound, but an organ uses air and reeds. Well, it was nearly Christmas, and the organ was broken. Some people say that mice had eaten holes in the bellows - that's the part that blows the air - and some people say it had just gotten rusty, but whatever the reason, the organ was broken and there wasn't going to be any music for the Christmas service." As Blaine spoke, Kurt began to quietly hum the melody, and one by one, the other children joined the circle around the musicians on the floor. "Now the assistant pastor of the little church," Blaine continued quietly, "had written a poem, and he brought it to the organist - that means the man who played the organ - to see if the organist could turn it into a carol they could sing without the organ. The organist, who was named Franz Gruber, had a guitar."
"Like that one?" a little girl asked breathlessly, captivated by the story.
"Like this one," Blaine confirmed with a smile. "Anyway, Franz Gruber wrote some music to go with the poem, and that became the song Silent Night. Oberndorf is in a country called Austria, and the people there spoke German, so that's the language the song was written in. Would you like to hear what it sounds like in German?" The children nodded, and Blaine began to sing.
Stille Nacht! Heil'ge Nacht!
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hoch heilige Paar.
Holder Knab' im lockigen Haar,
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!
Kurt didn't know the German words, so he added a wordless harmony above the melody. When Blaine finished the verse, he continued the story, still playing the chords as he spoke. "Mr. Gruber and Reverend Mohr - oh, I forgot to tell you - the assistant pastor's name was Josef Mohr - thought the song was just for their congregation to enjoy on Christmas Eve, but when the man finally came to fix the organ - his name was Karl Mauracher and he was very famous for making organs (back then you couldn't just buy one on the Internet - someone had to make it for you by hand and it took a long time), when the man came to fix the organ, after he had it all finished, he wanted Mr. Gruber to try it and make sure he was happy with the job, because he couldn't just hop in his car and come back the next day if it wasn't fixed right. Do you know why he couldn't do that?"
"Because they didn't have no cars back then," said a boy with ebony curls and dark eyes, who had raised his hand but was much too excited to wait to be called on.
"That's right," Blaine said, "because they didn't have any cars back then, so everyone had to be sure the job was done right the first time." He stressed the word 'any' just a little, making the correction, but not making an issue of it.
"And they couldn't just call him up and say 'get back here and fix this thing right', 'cause they didn't have no … they didn't have any cell phones, either," chimed in a slightly older boy, pushing his blond bangs out of his eyes.
Blaine smiled at him. He didn't mind the interruptions because it meant the kids were engaged in the story. "That's exactly right. So what do you think Mr. Gruber did to test the organ?" He paused to let them think a minute. A number of hands went up and he pointed to a child who was sitting alone on the outer edge of the circle. "The girl with the pretty ribbons in her hair. What's your name?"
She grinned, pleased with the compliment. "I'm Isabela. Did he play the song?"
Blaine nodded and smiled, and Isabela scooted in closer. "That's exactly what he did. And Karl Mauracher loved the song, and he got Mr. Gruber to write it down for him, and he took it home and gave it to two famous singing groups. After that, the song spread all over the world, and it's been translated into more than 300 different languages." While the kids were reacting to his last statement, Blaine turned to Kurt and mouthed "French?" at him. Kurt nodded, and Blaine continued. "My friend, Kurt, is going to show you how it sounds in a country called France. He continued playing until the start of the song came around again, and Kurt sang a verse in French.
Nuit de Paix, Sainte Nuit.
Dans l'étable aucun bruit.
Dans le ciel tout repose en paix.
Mais soudain dans l'air pur et frais.
Le brillant coeur des anges
Aux bergers apparaît.
When Kurt finished, he took up the story again. "So all over the world, people know this song. The words sound different, but the melody is the same, and the meaning is the same. The song is changed by going somewhere else, but it's still the same, too. Now, let's sing it in English. Will you sing with me?"
The shelter had a large kitchen, but it felt crowded with all the designers added to the usual crew of volunteers. However, they had quickly fallen into a rhythm, and the shelter's paid staff had quickly shown the volunteers what to do, and how to avoid collisions as they moved around the work area. Sister Ailene nodded her approval as she passed through. They had enough help to dispense with the usual cafeteria-style service and serve the families at the tables. She would prefer to do that for every meal; it would be much easier on the families, but they didn't usually have enough help. She went to her office to round up notepads and pens. Sister Ailene knew it was important to give her clients choices whenever possible, even if it was just whether they wanted sweet potatoes or mashed potatoes or both. It helped them feel that they had a little bit of control in their lives.
On her way back to the kitchen to talk to the volunteers about waiting tables, she stopped by the playroom. The two young men were surrounded by happy children. She stopped to listen for a moment. Blaine was telling what appeared to be a complicated story about an elf who didn't know what his favorite Christmas song was. The children were taking turns suggesting songs that the elf might like. She counted heads and was pleased to find that all the kids were participating.
When the food was nearly ready, Sister Ailene returned to the playroom and held up three fingers to Blaine. He nodded. When they finished singing Oh Christmas Tree, he said "None of the elves could think of any more songs and none of the reindeer could think of any more songs, so Elmer the Elf went to ask Mrs. Claus what her favorite Christmas song was. 'Mrs. Santa', he said, (he was the only elf allowed to call her Mrs. Santa because he was the youngest) 'what's your favorite Christmas song?' She told him she would have to whisper it in his ear because it was a secret, so he climbed up in her lap and she whispered in his ear. Elmer's face broke into a huge smile. 'That's my favorite, too!' he exclaimed. And do you know what she said?"
"Here Comes Santa Claus?" guessed Isabela.
"That's a really good guess," said Blaine, "but what she said was …. If I tell you, will you keep it a secret?" Kurt nodded vigorously, eyes wide, leading the children who all nodded with him. "She said …." He paused dramatically and looked around to make sure no one was listening, hunching his shoulders and bending forward. In a stage whisper, he proclaimed, "She said … her very favorite song … the one she liked most of all … more than any other song … was ...all of them!" The children laughed and Blaine stood up and put his guitar back in the case. "Sister Ailene says lunch is ready. Thank you for singing with me. I had fun."
Instead of long institutional tables, the dining room was dotted with the kind of tables you would find in a home. In most cases, there were two families at each table. Marisol had two families and a young teen who was very obviously pregnant and didn't appear to be related to any of the other people at the table. "Hi, I'm Marisol, and I'll be your waitress today," she said after Sister Ailene had led a prayer. She explained their choices and wrote down their orders. "I'll be back in just a minute with your drinks." She loaded her tray from the tea, water and milk set out on the counter and brought it back to table. One of the mothers had introduced herself when she placed her order, and the others at the table followed suit, and Marisol was careful to use their names as she delivered their drinks.
When she gave Peggy the glass of milk she had requested, the girl said shyly, "Can I ask you a question?" Marisol nodded her assent, and Peggy continued, "Are you a designer?"
Marisol was very surprised. "Yes, I am. How did you know?"
"I thought so!" Peggy exclaimed with satisfaction. "I told you, Monica. She's on Project Runway. I love that show," she added to Marisol. "I'm planning to be a fashion designer, or at least I was before this happened," she said, ruefully gesturing to her swollen abdomen.
Marisol felt her heart break a little for the girl. "I need to get your food now, but let's talk after you're through eating, okay? I won't be leaving for a while, so take your time." She went to get the plates that were being filled in the kitchen, bringing the food for the children first. After she had served everyone, she found Blaine. She waited while he finished serving his table, then motioned for him. "One of the people at my table recognized me! I feel famous!" she laughed. "But I need to ask you a couple of things. First, is it okay to point out the other designers to her? I think she'd get a big kick out of it."
"Sure. I told you before we left the Atlas that it's okay to say you're on the show. What else?"
"Okay, this is really embarrassing to ask, and it probably won't happen, but I'd like to have the answer, just in case. She looked pretty excited to meet me. If she asks for …" Marisol cringed. "... my autograph, is it okay to sign something for her?"
Well that's something that I didn't think about. He paused to consider, but couldn't imagine any harm that could come from it. "Sure. It would probably be better if you didn't offer, but if she asks and you want to do it, go ahead. Anything else?"
"We have some things in common. Is it okay if I share some of my history with her? It would all be stuff before the show, from when I was her age."
"That's fine, as long as you're comfortable with it."
She thanked him and returned to check on her table. They didn't seem to need anything, so she bent down and softly told Peggy, "I'm not the only designer here. Look around and see if you recognize anyone else."
The children at Kurt's table were very excited to have him as their waiter, especially when he sang the menu to them, but Mark's table was having the most fun of all. They had multiple waiters, mostly from Saturday morning cartoons, but with a few adult characters thrown in for the grownups. He had only listened to Sister Ailene for a few minutes but he had gotten enough from her to do an impression, but decided he'd better not. He was a good Catholic boy, and good Catholic boys did not make fun of the Sisters, especially not on Christmas day.
When everyone had finished eating and was beginning to leave the dining room, Marisol got a sponge and began to wipe the tables. "Do you want some help?" Peggy asked.
"No thanks, but you could keep me company. I'm sure your back hurts and bending over won't help it," Marisol said with a smile.
Peggy stretched and wiggled her shoulders. "It's not too bad today. I like to help out as much as I can, since technically, I'm not a family and Sister Ailene shouldn't let me stay here."
"You're by yourself, then?" Marisol asked kindly.
"Yeah. My parents weren't too happy with me, and before you ask, no, there wasn't anyone else who could help me." Although the words were bitter, Peggy just sounded tired, as if she were resigned to whatever life wanted to dump on her.
"I'm not going to tell you I know what you're going through or how you feel, but don't give up on your dreams. You'll get through this. You're a strong person; I can tell. When I was your age, I was in a pretty bad place, but things got better. I'm engaged to a great guy and I'm pursuing my dreams. It just took a little time. I wish I could tell you I'll come back to see you, but I'm pretty sure I won't be able to do that while I'm on the show. I'm very flattered that you recognized me, by the way. It made me feel famous. Did you spot anyone else?"
Riding back on the subway, the designers talked quietly about the people they had met. Visiting the shelter had been an eye-opener for most of them. Despite all the troubles in their lives, the kids were still kids, ready to play, to hear stories, to sit on the floor and color. Sister Ailene had gotten a list of materials from Marisol and was going to ask some of their regular sponsors to help with the expense of making the quilts, and nearly all the designers had volunteered to help.
"That was good luck that you knew how to sing Silent Night in French," Blaine said as they neared their stop.
"Yes, it was. I didn't know you spoke German at all," Kurt replied.
"I don't," Blaine laughed. "I just know the first verse of the song."
"I was so impressed today. You're really good with kids. It was amazing how they responded to you," Kurt said.
"Me? What about you? It was pure genius when you suggested that Elmer the Elf might like Here Comes Peter Cottontail or Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."
"Yeah, they had a good time shooting me down, didn't they? But seriously, Blaine, you're going to be a terrific father one day. I can just see you camping out under the Christmas tree with a little boy who has your beautiful curls and gorgeous eyes."
And a little girl who looks just like you. Blaine was momentarily lost in the image of the two of them, parenting their children together. Oh! You said I had 'beautiful curls and gorgeous eyes'! "You, too, Kurt. You're obviously a natural. I've done stuff like that with the kids before, but they enjoyed it more today, and so did I. It couldn't have worked any better if we had rehearsed it."
"What can I say? We make a good team." Kurt teased. "Lewis and Martin, Tracy and Hepburn, Hanks and Ryan, Simon and Garfunkel, that's us."
More like Johnny and June, except we'll get it right the first time.
I just got an e-mail from tech support at Pocket Fiction. It seems FF changed something and now Pocket Fiction is broken and won't download updates. They hope to have it fixed soon.
