March 1921
Blaine
Blaine takes the baked dessert out of the oven and is pleased with the result. He turns his head toward the young boy sitting at the nearby counter. "Hans, could you please get the milk from the ice box? We can't eat Apfelstreuselkuchen without a tall glass of milk."
Hans jumps off his stool and retrieves the milk, while Blaine gets out two glasses. Blaine thinks that his first afternoon with Hans is going well. While they wait for the cake to bake, Hans has shown him his precious book about dinosaurs and other creatures that once roamed the earth. Hans's face lights up with delight when Blaine suggests that they go to the American Museum of Natural History next Saturday.
After slicing two pieces, they sit down again to eat the fruits of their labor. Blaine leans forward, carefully watching Hans take the first bite. He relaxes when Hans smiles and closes his eyes. "Does it taste like your Oma's Apfelstreuselkuchen?"
"Even better!"
Blaine watches Hans devour the slice of cake. "I think I'll put this on the menu at Westerville's. I'll call it Hans's Apple Crumb Cake."
Hans's eyes grow wide. "You're naming the cake after me?"
"I like to name things on the menu after people I know. I'm going to save a slice of the cake for my friend who lives here, but you can take the rest of the cake home, as long as you promise to share it with your family."
When Blaine hears Kurt enter the townhouse, he looks at the time. It's only 4 PM, and Blaine is surprised Kurt is home so early after a day at his flying club - it's practically unheard of. When Kurt enters the kitchen, he looks tired and cold.
"Kurt, I didn't expect you to be back so soon. We are just finishing up."
"Carry on. Something smells rather wonderful." Kurt looks around, and suddenly, he grins from ear to ear. He walks to the vase of fresh flowers and picks it up. "You bought daisies."
Blaine smiles, glad that he was here to see the look on Kurt's face. It seems that their romance isn't dead after all. He decides then and there that he's going to bring fresh daisies to work for Kurt, at least while they are living apart.
Kurt walks toward Hans and extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel."
"Hi. I'm Hans Martin Pippart."
Kurt takes in a deep breath. "Are you German?" When Hans nods, Kurt asks, "Are you named after your father?"
"We have the same name, but my papa is dead. My mother says he was a very brave war hero."
"Yes, I'm sure he was," Kurt replies stiffly and looks away.
Blaine can't understand why Kurt is acting so coldly towards Hans. The atmosphere is uncomfortable, and he decides to break the tension by giving Kurt a plate with a slice of cake.
Kurt gives him a half-smile. "Thank you, Blaine. I'll be upstairs - I have some work I must get done."
After Kurt has left the kitchen, Blaine makes quick work of cleaning up while Hans tells him about school. It seems that he's being bullied every day for being German. Blaine will have to think over the best advice to give him next Saturday. For now, he listens to Hans open up to him.
Once they put on their coats, Blaine calls out from the bottom of the stairs. "Kurt, we're leaving now. I've left a Lancashire hotpot on the kitchen counter for you."
Kurt runs down the stairs. "After you've dropped Hans off, do you want to come back and eat dinner with me?"
"Sure. I'll be about an hour."
Blaine returns to the townhouse on MacDougal Alley and rings the bell. When Kurt opens the door, Blaine immediately notices that he's changed into a comfortable pair of trousers and one of his shirts. Kurt must know by now that Blaine finds him incredibly sexy in a tight-fitting shirt, especially when it's one of his own. Kurt is wearing it on purpose, and it does things to him.
"You don't need to ring the bell. It's your home, too."
"I-I didn't want to barge in, especially while I'm not living here. I was surprised that you came home so early today."
Kurt's cheeks pinken. "I came home early hoping that I'd be able to see you."
Kurt helps Blaine out of his coat, and Blaine can smell the wonderful aromas of the Lancashire hotpot drifting through the air. He's noticed that Kurt has lost weight recently, and last night, he decided to make a casserole for him that would last for days. When he opened the ice box earlier in the day, his suspicions were confirmed. Kurt isn't taking care of himself when it comes to eating.
Blaine follows Kurt through the living room, where a fire is burning brightly in the fireplace. They stop in the dining room, which is formally set with linens and glasses, as two candles flicker soft flames in the center. Kurt pulls out a chair for him, and once he's seated, he says, "Everything is ready. I'll just be a minute."
Blaine takes a sip of water while listening to Kurt bustle around the kitchen. Although he's been raised in a house filled with servants, he hasn't missed the service, not really. However, he does miss Kurt taking care of him… loving him.
He shakes his head to get rid of these thoughts. Although things between them have been much better the past few weeks, they still need time to work out their issues. He's been brought up to think of patience as a virtue, no matter how hard it might be.
Kurt carries in the casserole dish filled with the Lancashire hotpot, and serves the lamb, onion and carrot casserole topped with sliced potatoes. When he takes his first bite, Kurt moans. "This is absolutely delicious. I haven't eaten a homemade meal like this since…since..."
"Since I moved out?"
Kurt nods and bites his lower lip. "It's not that I don't know how to cook, because I do. It's just that I associate cooking with you, and it's no fun when you're not here. If I'm honest, there are a whole lot of things that aren't fun without you by my side."
Blaine is secretly pleased that Kurt is missing him, because he sure does miss Kurt. "I feel the same about some things, like listening to new music, strolling in Central Park, or even going to Brooks Brothers. And I certainly don't have fun shaving by myself."
Kurt bursts out in giggles. "Shaving is most definitely more fun when we're together."
Blaine joins in the laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes.
When they've calmed down, Kurt continues. "How are we going to make time for doing fun things when the restaurant opens? We'll be so busy, and I don't want us to slip back like we were before, together at work and home, but never finding the time to enjoy ourselves."
Blaine replies, "I think that once the restaurant opens, it's going to be really hard for the first few months. We'll need to build up the clientele and deal with initial glitches. However, we'll have our visit to England this summer, where we'll make more memories."
Blaine takes a sip of water, figuring out ways to carve out personal time on an ongoing basis. "It'll be really important that we hire good staff whom we trust. People that are capable of managing the kitchen or the front without us there. We'll have to work the weekends because those will be the busiest times, but maybe the head waiter could take over for the lunch service while you're at your flying club. Beiste could oversee the prep work when I spend time with Hans. We should be able to take time off together during our slowest days. I know that you are quite clever at schedules. We'll make this work."
Kurt taps his finger on his chin. "Well, I am rather good at schedules," he says a twinkle in his eye.
"The thing that worries me at the moment is finding that perfect head waiter. I would breathe a little easier knowing that we have someone in place to help you manage the restaurant."
Kurt straightens in his chair. "I know the perfect person."
"Who?"
"Elliott Gilbert."
"Absolutely not!" Blaine folds his arms in front of him. How could Kurt even suggest that Elliott work for them? Doesn't he know it would be like torture to watch them together?
"Blaine, hear me out. Elliott's contract with the US Air Service finishes at the end of this month, and he's not renewing it. He doesn't want to become a commercial pilot. He'd rather move to Manhattan and find something new to do."
Blaine juts out his lower lip. "I bet he knows nothing about being a waiter or even how a restaurant operates."
"No, he doesn't, but he's smart. Elliott will catch on quickly. As a pilot, he knows how to deal with unpleasant situations efficiently without a fuss. I've seen him interact with others at the airfield and the flying club. Elliott has a certain way about him. People respect him. People listen to him. He's a natural leader."
Blaine shakes his head. "He likes you, Kurt. I saw the way that he looked at you at the Hamptons Horse Show. He was checking out your buttocks!"
"Elliott has admitted to me that he's queer, but never - and I repeat, never - has he made advances toward me. You're jealous over absolutely nothing."
"You don't understand how it'll make me feel to watch him flirt with you."
Kurt raises an eyebrow and huffs. "Don't I? You, my dear, have a very short memory. Do you know how many times I've had to stand by as a footman and silently watching ladies flock around you and flirt? You're more swoon-worthy than Rudolph Valentino. Even men show their outward attraction to you. Don't get me started on Lord Hunter Clarington!"
Blaine cringes when he remembers the 1914 London Season. It's true that Kurt had observed his family introducing him to young ladies, and Lord Clarington was certainly pushing it with his banter.
"But the only person I want is you," Blaine insists.
Kurt runs a hand through his hair. "Blaine, how can I convince you that I love you and only you? I've promised you that my heart and body will only ever belong to you. I wear an eternity ring as a symbol of that promise. We're building our future together!"
Blaine shifts his chair close to Kurt and holds his hand. "I know that, I truly do. It's not you whom I don't trust. It's Elliott. I don't trust him one little bit."
Kurt lets out a deep sigh. "I won't ever mention Elliott again as Westerville's head waiter. It's a really important position, and like you said earlier, we both need to trust the person. We'll put an advertisement in the newspapers and start interviewing people."
Blaine is relieved that Kurt has given up on the notion that Elliott might work for them. They are a team, and they both need to be comfortable with the staff they employ.
"Blaine, can you do me a favor? When you come to the airfield later this month, could you take the time to talk to Elliott? He's the only queer guy that I know besides you, Hiram, and LeRoy. I really value his friendship, and it would mean so much to me if you got to know him a little bit."
Blaine nods. "I think I can do that."
More than anything, Blaine wants to have a chat with Elliott. If Kurt is going to spend time with him, he needs to tell Elliott in no uncertain terms to back off.
They carry the empty dishes to the sink and retire to the living room. Kurt places another log on the fire to keep it burning brightly. When he sits down on the sofa, he twists his fingers on his lap. Blaine can tell Kurt has something on his mind by the way he avoids looking at him. "Penny for your thoughts?"
"If we're talking about people we don't like, I don't think you should mentor Hans."
Blaine creases his brow. That wasn't at all what he was expecting Kurt to say. "Why ever not?"
"Do you know who Hans Martin Pippart was?" When Blaine shakes his head, Kurt continues, "He was a German flying ace during the war. He shot down balloons, planes… British pilots died because of him."
"But that was wartime. We all had roles to perform for our countries."
"At least Pippart was shot down by anti-aircraft fire and couldn't destroy any more."
"Have you ever considered that it could have been me or one of my men that killed Hans's father?"
Kurt shakes his head. "Pippart died towards the end of the war. It wasn't you."
"But I ordered soldiers to fire anti-aircraft missiles in the air, and I did not for one single second think of them as people with families… I shudder to think of the real consequences of the war."
"They were the enemy. Hans Martin Pippart was the enemy!"
"Does that mean that an innocent young boy is the enemy, too? It's not Hans's fault that he was on the 'wrong' side of the war. Hans has already paid a large price for the Great War. He lost his father. You must know what that feels like - your mother died when you were young."
"I never thought of it quite like that," Kurt replies.
"Hans has immigrated to a new country, and boys his age are giving him grief over being a German. He needs someone who can help him adjust to living in America, and deal with the school bullies."
Kurt smiles knowingly. "Hans is quite a lucky lad to have you as his Big Brother."
Blaine blushes at the compliment. He flexes his fingers, thinking that it would only work if Kurt treated Hans like a normal lad.
"Kurt, now it's time for you to return the favor. Once Hans and I have become firm friends, would you go out with us once and take the time to talk to Hans? It would mean so much to me if you got to know him a little bit."
Kurt checks their shoulders and smirks, "I see what you did there. Yes, of course I will. I might even find that I like him."
"And I might find that I like Elliott."
The following Saturday evening
Blaine stands when his granny returns to the parlor after the last dinner guests have left. He had agreed to come to dinner to help celebrate his granny's birthday. What he hadn't realized is that it would be a complete set up.
When his granny sits down, Blaine comments, "It's quite remarkable how all your friends have young granddaughters who are single and happened to be available tonight."
June Dalloway smirks. "I'm not even going to pretend that it was coincidental. Your presence in Manhattan has caused quite a stir. You might not have a title, but you're a knight and that counts for something. You'll be quite spoiled for choice when you decide to marry."
"Granny, I'm never going to marry. Not ever. You must understand by now that I'm in love with Kurt."
"Well, of course you are. I loved many men. So what? This is what humans do. We fall in and out of love. We break each other's hearts. The first you think is the most important, but that isn't true."
"You seem to forget that I'm not attracted to women."
"It's just a passing phase. Look at Hiram - even he changed his mind and married. Rachel is living proof of their union."
Blaine rolls his eyes. Hiram has already related the story of why he married Rachel's mother. His parents arranged his marriage to a high-society gal and had to force him down the aisle. There were vast trust funds that wouldn't be released until he had a wife and child.
"Granny, you forget that I'm now a working man and have independent means. I don't need to marry if I don't want to."
June frowns. "People are already gossiping about how you don't attend society events and live with a man. We need a cover story. Let's tell people that you have a pelvic war injury - that will keep them guessing whether you are impotent or not."
Blaine isn't sure whether he's more appalled about a potential rumor about his impotence or that his granny brought it up. "I certainly don't have problems in that area," Blaine huffs.
"That's not the point. It could explain the reason why you are not courting anyone. It's also ambiguous enough that when you decide to marry, you'll be very much a man. We need a cover story for that Kurt as well."
Blaine can almost see the cogs turning in his granny's mind.
June snaps her fingers. "I've got it! Kurt is your faithful servant from England, who has now dedicated himself to aid you in your recovery and provide companionship."
As hard as it is to admit, maybe his granny is onto something. He and Kurt have been so busy in their own little world of Westerville's and MacDougal Alley that they have given no thought of how they might appear to people. He certainly doesn't want either Kurt or himself to be charged with sodomy and sentenced to jail. His American family is quite prominent in high society, and they would be wise to have a cover story.
"Let me talk to Kurt and Uncle Hiram about this first before you spread gossip about me. I'd like their advice on the matter."
"Oh, Hiram will agree with my plan. He always does."
After saying his goodbyes to his granny, Blaine walks the short distance to the Berry townhouse. The rest of the household has retired, and Blaine makes himself a cup of hot cocoa before going up to his own bedroom. He wishes that he was with Kurt so that he could relate the discussion with his granny, and they could agree on a cover story. However, they do have a date tomorrow, and he could bring it up then. Blaine has planned a day of lunch and a visit to the Cooper Hewitt Museum. Kurt will surely enjoy the decorative arts exhibits, and they might give him inspiration for Westerville's decor.
He's also been thinking about Cooper a lot, ever since he's started to spend time with Hans. As he pours his cocoa into a mug, he decides that this might be a good time to write him a letter.
Blaine enters his bedroom, sits down on the chair in front of the desk and takes out writing paper. There's been something he's been wrestling with, and he would appreciate his brother's opinion.
Dear Cooper,
I hope that this letter finds you, Quinn, and the children well. My nephews and nieces must have grown so much since I last saw them almost 18 months ago. Although I was only home for a short while after the war, they became an important part of my life and I miss them terribly. It's really quite something special when you can form a relationship with a child and nurture them to reach their potential.
I am fortunate enough to spend time with wee Carole. Cooper, I swear she has a stronger set of lungs than Cousin Rachel! That girl is going to be something one day, because she certainly is a handful.
Uncle Hiram introduced me to a group called Big Brothers, who pairs fatherless lads with adult male mentors. When I learnt how much this sort of relationship can impact boys' lives for the good, I signed up immediately. It turns out that I've bonded with a young nine-year-old German boy, Hans, who immigrated with his mother after the war. His father was a German flying ace, and of course, Kurt knows of him. He was shot down by anti-aircraft fire and died instantly.
When I met Hans, he was a reminder of my time in the German POW camps. It's hard to believe that Hans was living close by. As a result of my experiences, I don't have a high opinion of Germans. However, there is something about Hans that interests me. The wee lad is having to adjust to a new country and speak in a different language, all without the guidance of his father. Although he's very bright, he is having difficulties at school. The other children bully him because he's German.
This boy needs me. I have a lot of love in my heart to give to someone like him. I can help Hans adjust to living in a new country. I've learned a trick or two since I'm an immigrant myself. I could also help him deal with the bullying. It might not go away for a long time, but he needs some skills on how to deal with it.
I also need Hans. He helps me put the Great War in perspective. When I look at Hans, I see an innocent boy who, through no fault of his own, was born in the wrong place at the wrong time. How can we ever expect to heal from such a terrible war if we blame the next generation for the sins of their fathers?
Let's face it, there were atrocities on all sides of the war. Not all the Allied soldiers were angels and not all Central Powers soldiers were devils. In July, I'll go to Germany with steely determination to testify against one of my POW camp officials and have him convicted of war crimes. However, I'll continue to mentor a young Hans. I forgive the Germans. They are suffering, too.
I hope that makes sense to you. I'd value your views on the matter. Let's say that the Allies lost the war and you were killed in action. How would you like the Central Powers to treat your children? Your wife? Our countrymen?
When I spend time with Hans, I think of our own relationship, and I emulate some of the things that you used to do. You were so confident, and as a shy lad, I would try to act more like you. I valued your opinion and would often seek your advice on things that I wasn't comfortable talking to Father or Mama about. I want to thank you for being the best big brother I could have ever hoped for.
Love
Blaine
PS - It's quite late at night. I'll write Mama tomorrow and let everyone know what is happening in the Big Apple.
PPS - Don't let your head get too big from the compliments. Even big brothers have annoying habits. If you insist on me calling you Lord Cooper, ever again, you'll have to call me Sir Blaine.
Author's notes
I posted a day early for a reader's birthday. The next update will be on Saturday.
Many thanks to my fantastic betas - Fearlessly, Lilyvandersteen, Dblmalfunction. I made the last-minute edits and performed the final proofreading by myself, so all mistakes are mine.
I'm HKVoyage on Tumblr.
Next up: Blaine attends the open day at Mitchel Field.