Blaine reached into the back of Sam's car, and unbuckled the seatbelt that held his daughter in her car seat. She could usually undo the latch herself, but the puffy cream colored coat she wore prevented it. It was bitterly cold and grey – typical for Christmas eve in Ohio. Blaine and Mackenzie had woken up early to make gingerbread cookies and watch Christmas movies. Blaine performed a dazzling rendition of "I'm mister heat miser" for his daughter as the Claymation characters danced on the TV. They skyped Sam and Brielle who were spending their own Christmas eve in Prague. They had a light lunch, and went to an early Christmas mass at the church Blaine found himself a part of. It turns out there were plenty of communities who accepted him and his daughter, and having that support system had helped Blaine through some really tough points.
And then they loaded themselves back into Sam's car, and took the 45 minute drive to Lima Ohio. Blaine didn't know what exactly led him to his decision, though the thought of a classic homemade Christmas dinner certainly didn't hurt. And the man would have to admit, as much as he loved his daughter, he could only sing jingle bells with her in their apartment so many times. Having some adult company on what could potentially be a lonely Christmas Eve was welcomed.
Blaine lifted Mackenzie out of the car, and placed her on the sidewalk. He reached back into the vehicle, and produced a plate of gingerbread people wrapped in festive cellophane for Kenzie to carry inside. She insisted on carrying it, even though her pink winter mittens barely allowed her to keep her grip. That defaulted Blaine to carrying Mackenzie's small elephant backpack full of toys and coloring books to keep her occupied. "Let's go missy," Blaine said, putting his free hand on the back of his daughter's head lightly, turning her in the right direction.
The Hummel house looked exactly like it did 10 years prior. A little more worn, sure, but the same. The pair walked up the path to the door, and Blaine took a breath before knocking solidly three times. Mackenzie shifted a little closer next to him as the door opened a few moments later. "Blaine Anderson!" a warm, deep voice welcomed him, ushering both through the door.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said with a smile, keeping a comforting hand on his daughter in this new environment. The house was gorgeously decorated with garland on the railings, and a perfectly quaint Christmas tree in the corner of the Livingroom, covered with silver and gold decorations. The kitchen was producing a variety of smells, all lovely and appetizing. It was like something right out of a Christmas movie to Blaine.
"Call me Mr. Hummel again and I'll bop ya," Burt said, holding his fist up, warning Blaine of his fate if he stayed overly formal with the man. Blaine laughed and nodded. "Here let me take your coat," Burt offered, as Blaine slipped out of the worn out pea coat, thrilled to be inside where the heat was pumping, and the fireplace was burning.
"Carole! Kurt! The Andersons are here!" Burt called into the kitchen. In the blink of an eye, Carole was in the foyer, welcoming the two as well.
"Oh good! Hello, Blaine," Carole said, immediately going to give Blaine a big, warm hug. She then squatted down to Mackenzie's level. The little girl didn't move a muscle, staying impossibly close to her father. "And you must be Miss Mackenzie. It's a pleasure to meet you," Carole said, a warm twinkle in her eye. Mackenzie, of course, was unaware they'd already met.
"Say hello, Kenzie," Blaine urged, as he too squatted down to help his daughter out of her gloves and coat. Kenzie just lifted a hand and waved in the smallest way. "Sorry, we're a little shy at first." Blaine took off Mackenzie's coat, and handed the tray of cookies back to the little girl. "Why don't you give Miss Carole our gift?" Blaine offered.
Mackenzie took just a step away from Blaine, and held out the tray to Carole, who accepted the offer graciously. "Oh my! What did you bring us?"
"Ginga-men," Kenzie said softly, taking a step back so she could cling to her father's leg once more.
"Oooh my favorite! Thank you so much, Mackenzie," Burt said with excessive excitement, causing Mackenzie to giggle ever so slightly. Blaine chuckled, and reached down to pick his daughter up. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get any further into the house without doing so. Mackenzie would warm up over the course of the night, or at least Blaine hoped.
"Please, come in," Carole gesture to the kitchen. "Dinner should be ready any minute." Blaine complied, and carried Mackenzie into the kitchen, where he was surprised to see Kurt standing over the stove. His black dress pants and casual green button down shirt was covered by a frilly, Christmas apron. He was humming along to the Christmas song on the radio, and dancing – unaware the others had joined him in the kitchen.
"Kurt," Carole said sweetly, causing the man to look over his shoulder, and stop his actions suddenly. "Blaine and Mackenzie are here." Blaine hiked Mackenzie up a little higher on his hip, and gave Kurt a small acknowledging nod, since his hands were a little full.
"Oh yeah… hey guys," Kurt said, a slight flush of pink crossing his cheeks. He'd been caught in the act. "Uh… dinner's almost done," he noted, taking the apron off hastily, and smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt with his hands. Blaine couldn't help but note that Kurt was dressed down for the occasion – at least as far as Kurt's fashion choices went. But he still looked good doing so. Much better, Blaine thought, than himself – who stuck to black jeans and a deep red sweater over his black dress shirt. His bowtie was black as well.
At least Mackenzie looked the part. Brielle had bought her a Christmas dress – red velvet on top with a black waistband and white tulle skirt, gold glitter sparkling from between the layers. Blaine had even managed to get Kenz to agree to fixing up her hair in curly pigtails with gold bows. He was pretty sure his daughter's adorable factor made up for his lack thereof. Blaine sat Mackenzie in one of the chairs around the dining table. He sat next to her, and received a pout when he didn't let the four year old crawl directly into his lap. "It's almost dinner time, kiddo. Stay in your seat," Blaine suggested softly as Kurt and Carole started bringing hot pans of food to the table. "This all looks amazing, guys, thank you," Blaine noted as a green bean casserole was placed near is plate.
"And it wouldn't be Christmas without the honey baked ham!" Carole nearly sang, pulling the perfectly presented ham out of the oven where it was being kept warm. She placed the tray in the middle of the table on two pieces of cork so the hot plate wouldn't burn the festive table cloth. "I believe that's everything," Carole said, taking off her own apron.
Burt had taken his seat at the end of the table, next to where Blaine had set Mackenzie. Carole took the other spot next to Burt, and Kurt sat down across from Blaine after placing one last serving dish of mashed potatoes on the table.
"Alright, let's dig in!" Burt offered, grabbing the large butcher knife to carve the ham so everyone could get a piece.
Mackenzie looked up at Blaine, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong Mackenzie?" Blaine asked softly.
"We didn't pray," Mackenzie offered, clearly confused over the fact that the Hummel's didn't perform any form of grace before dishing out their dinner.
"Not everyone says grace before meals kiddo…" Blaine offered.
"We could say grace… if you want," Kurt offered suddenly, causing Blaine's head to turn toward the man, who had just put a heaping spoonful of green beans on his plate. Blaine was surprised he'd even heard the conversation.
"It's ok, Kurt. My mom just…"
"No, Mackenzie's right," Burt cut in suddenly. The little girl next to Blaine perked up a little when being praised as such. "We should be giving thanks for everything we have. I want to hear Mackenzie say grace for us."
"Can you do that Mackenzie?" Blaine asked, unsure if the little girl would even be willing. She hated being put on the spot like that. Blaine was shocked, though, when Mackenzie turned back toward him and nodded hastily. She closed her eyes, and pressed her hands together tight, bowing her head as she thought of the words to say.
"Fank you God for dis food. And fank you for daddy and unca Sam and unca Cooper and aunt Bri. And fank you for Christmas and for baby Jesus. And fank you for Santa and ginga-men and for daddy's fwends who maked us dinner. Amen." Makenzie's eyes opened at her last words, and Blaine couldn't help but beam with pride. It wasn't often that his little girl would offer to be the center of attention like that. Perhaps that's why she closed her eyes so tight – to deter the fact that everyone was looking at her. But she said her prayer, and was now happily trying to prop herself up higher in the chair to get a better look at the food in front of her.
"That was beautiful, Mackenzie," Caorle offered, warmly.
"Let me get you some phonebooks to sit on, kid. I didn't even notice how low to the ground you are," Burt added, pushing away from the table and disappearing momentarily to find Mackenzie a homemade booster seat.
"Thank you," Blaine mouthed softly to Kurt, who simply nodded in return, continuing to scoop food onto his plate.
Dinner was otherwise fairly uneventful. Well, other than when Mackenzie dropped some cranberry sauce onto her skirt. She was pretty devastated. Kurt insisted he'd be able to get the stain out. Which led Blaine to helping Mackenzie change into her Christmas pajamas mid-meal. The footsie pajamas were not nearly as dinner-wear-formal as her dress, but definitely more adorable.
The five of them ate and chatted, Mackenzie included who had seemed to take a very quick liking to Burt in particular. She told Burt and Carole all about her school and how she didn't like Toby because he said girls can't play baseball. Blaine talked with Kurt about his upcoming assignments with Vogue. Carole talked about some new recipes she'd found, and wished she'd had time to try instead of the classic dishes she'd put together. Blaine insisted that the traditional dinner was perfect.
Pretty soon, dishes were empty, and Mackenzie was getting antsy as the adults continued to sit and chat. "Daddy," Mackenzie whined, pulling at Blaine's sweater. "Daddy I wanna go play," she continued, slightly pleading.
"Kenzie, we don't whine," Blaine reminded the girl, who in turn backed away from her father and crossed her arms in a huff. "And we should stay and help with the dishes. It's only fair, since the Hummel's were nice enough to cook for us."
"Oh Blaine, sweetie, don't worry about that," Carole insisted. Mackenzie's eyes became hopeful again.
"I'd really like to help, Carole," Blaine insisted.
"Well then, how about I go play with Miss Mackenzie in the living room, while you guys clean up in here?" Burt offered. Blaine turned his gaze toward Mackenzie, wondering how she'd respond to this proposition. She'd warmed up certainly, but enough to go off with Burt while her father stayed in the kitchen – completely out of sight of the living room? Blaine wasn't sure until he locked eyes with his daughter. He cursed his own puppy dog pout which he'd passed down to his child so flawlessly.
"Fine. But you are to be perfectly polite, and clean up any mess you make, ok?" Blaine warned, though the four year old was out of her seat and bounding toward her elephant backpack in the foyer before Blaine could even finish his sentence. He sighed, but smiled, knowing his daughter was just overly excited because of Christmas.
"I'll go watch her," Burt said with a chuckle, taking a much longer to get up out of his chair than Mackenzie did. But he got up at his pace, and kissed Carole on the cheek before moseying into the living room to keep watch over Mackenzie.
Meanwhile, Blaine and Kurt had started rounding up the dishes, and bringing them over to the sink. Carole was digging through a cabinet filled with Tupperware containers to find those that would perfectly house the leftovers. The trio worked like they'd done this a thousand times before. Which Blaine, supposed, in a sense they had. Back when he and Kurt had been dating, Blaine always insisted on helping clear the table and rinse the dishes before setting them in the dishwasher.
"Thank you again, guys, for having us tonight," Blaine offered as he set the last of the dishes in the machine which would finish cleaning them.
"Oh Blaine, thank you for coming!" Carole insisted. "I'll tell you, Burt and I have been feeling particularly old recently, and having a kid around has really lifted our spirits."
"Yeah and now they keep asking me when they can expect grandbaby number one," Kurt added, a bit of playful disdain. Blaine chuckled at the prospect of Kurt being a father. It wasn't an impossible one, but Blaine could tell the idea wasn't up Kurt's alley. At least not yet.
"Let's go see what those children are up to," Carole offered, after tossing her dish towel aside, and deciding to leave the work that remained for later.
The trio entered the living room to find Mackenzie and Burt sprawled out on the floor, coloring book in front of them, with all the crayons Mackenzie had brought strewn about. Mackenzie was coloring a picture of a butterfly, and Burt was trying to color a picture of a grasshopper from the side of the book, so he wasn't overcrowding the little girl. It was clear Mackenzie insisted on his participation, though, as Blaine didn't think he'd ever seen Burt laying down on the floor like that. It was a cute scene, though, with the fireplace and the Christmas tree in the background.
When Blaine took another step in, Mackenzie bolted up, and ran to Blaine. "Daddy, look!" she said, grabbing her father's hand, and pulling him closer to what he already could see.
"That's a beautiful butterfly, Mackenzie!" Blaine gushed, taking note at how much better the little girl was becoming at staying in the lines. She was far from perfect, of course, and Blaine never told her she HAD to color that way. But she'd figured it out on her own.
"It's for Miss Carole," Mackenzie whispered.
"That's very nice of you Kenz," Blaine said, even prouder than before.
"Can you help rip it?" Mackenzie asked, taking the coloring book right out from under Burt, who laughed slightly. Blaine sighed, not surprised that Mackenzie couldn't have been perfectly polite in the situation. He smiled though, and carefully tore the page out of the book along the perforation. "Fanks," she said, and hastily took the picture. She bounded over to where Carole had taken a seat on a puffy recliner. "I maked this for you," Mackenzie said happily, handing over the coloring page to Carole.
"Oh Mackenzie," Carole gushed, taking the picture and looking at it as if it were a Picasso. "This is absolutely lovely. Would you like to hang it on the fridge with me?" Mackenzie nodded excitedly, and went off with Carole hand in hand to the kitchen.
"You've got a good kid there, Blaine," Burt noted as he pushed himself off of the floor, and replaced Carole in the recliner.
"Thank you, Burt," Blaine said with a smile, feeling it more appropriate than saying 'I know', even though he did know, and was very proud of how polite of a guest his daughter was being.
"She's got pretty good fashion sense too," Kurt offered cheekily.
"That's all Brielle, not me," Blaine said with a chuckle, knowing Kurt had found Mackenzie's Christmas dress very 4-year-old chic. (Kurt's words. Not Blaine's.)
Mackenzie came bounding back into the room, and flopped next to her backpack, digging through it for the next toy. "Kenz, we clean up one thing before we start another," Blaine reminded. Kenzie grumbled a bit, but crawled over the coloring book and crayons, and started stuffing the wax rods back in the box from which they came.
Carole came back into the living room soon after, a slightly concerned look on her face. She sat down next to Blaine on the sofa, Kurt having taken the spot on the other side of the man. "Blaine," Carole said, concern clearly lacing her voice. Blaine had a pit in his stomach all of a sudden, just from Carole's tone. What had happened in the kitchen while he wasn't watching? "Mackenzie's fingers look all swollen up. She told me it's her artist?" Carole noted, clearly confused, but concerned that the little girl was hurt in some way.
The pressure on Blaine's chest lifted, and he almost laughed slightly, glad that it wasn't something serious. "Arthritis," Blaine corrected, explaining to Carole what Mackenzie had been trying to say. "Mackenzie had arthritis," Blaine confirmed, ignoring the slightly pitying look that replaced Carole's concerned one. "Kenz, come here," Blaine called to his daughter, who abandoned the box of crayons she was trying to clean up. "Can I see your hands?"
The little girl placed her hands in her fathers, and sure enough the area around each of her knuckles were puffy and red. Blaine touched a couple of them, happy to see that Kenzie wasn't recoiling in pain as he did so. "Do your fingers hurt, baby?" Blaine asked, closing his hands around Mackenzie's. The little girl shook her head no. "Good. You can go finish cleaning up now."
"I had no idea, Blaine," Carole started apologetically.
"Why would you?" Blaine interrupted. "It's really not a huge deal," he insisted, somewhat halfheartedly. He believed what he was saying, but the man had a lot on his mind. The huge deal wasn't the arthritis. It was the medical bills that accompanied it. He shook off the thoughts internally.
A heavy silence washed over the room, aside from Mackenzie talking to herself as she put her crayons away. Blaine tried to think of something to say, something to change the topic and the tone. His daughter's medical conditions shouldn't have created such a heavy tension, he thought.
As Mackenzie put the box of crayons back in her backpack, Burt finally spoke up. "Hey Kenzo, come here. I got something exciting to tell you," he offered. Blaine chuckled at the nickname, happy to see Mackenzie comply and even crawl right up into Burt's lap. All attention turned toward the two, which Blaine was happy for. The sight of Mackenzie on Burt's lap brought Blaine back to that day in the mall. It was the exact same scene, but no fake beard or red suit.
"You want to know a secret?" Burt asked in a loud whisper, so everyone could hear but Mackenzie felt like it was just for her. The little girl nodded. "My secret… is that I'm best friends… with Santa Clause."
"Really?" Mackenzie asked, skepticism crossing her face.
"Oh yeah. Me and Santa go way back," Burt insisted. "I was actually talking to him on the phone earlier today and I told him you were coming over with your dad. He said that you've been a very, very good girl this year." Mackenzie nodded excitedly, a sparkle in her eyes as she started to believe the story. "He told me about your talk at the mall, and how sweet you were to think about all the other kids in the world." Blaine knew a little bit about Burt and Mackenzie's conversation at the mall, but not everything. He wondered what Mackenzie had said. He'd have to ask Burt later. "And so Santa asked if he could leave a present here for you, to make sure that he didn't run out before he got to your house."
Mackenzie's eyes lit up at the word present, and Blaine's heart swelled. Kurt got up from the couch and over into what Blaine was pretty sure was the office. The man, of course, put two and two together pretty quickly. He wasn't sure what they had for his daughter, but he knew it would be too much. He looked back at Carole. She smiled sweetly. "You didn't have to get her anything," Blaine whispered.
"We know," Carole whispered back.
"Would you like your present now? You'll have to wait until tomorrow morning for everything else, of course," Burt reminded the little girl. Mackenzie nodded fiercely. "Ok Kurt, you can bring it in."
And as if Blaine's premonition was coming true, Kurt pushed in a box that came up to Mackenzie's torso, and was probably longer than her if she laid down next to it. The little girl squealed and slid off of Burt's lap. She turned back to Blaine, "Can I open it, daddy?" she asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes.
"Go ahead, princess," he said, his words slightly choked up as he wasn't sure how to react to the Hummel's generosity.
The little girl started to tear away at the penguin wrapping paper, revealing a plain brown box. It wasn't long before the paper was completely on the floor, and Mackenzie was attempting to tear open the cardboard flaps. "Here, I'll help," Kurt offered, since he was still standing nearby, ready with a trash bag in hand, to clean up the inevitable mess. He reached into his pocket, producing a small multi-tool. He flipped it open to a small knife, and ran it along the seam of the box. Mackenzie then flipped the top open and peered inside.
"IT'S A BIKE DADDY! IT'S MY BIKE!" She said immediately, going into a frenzy. Blaine lost his breath for a moment, looking from Carole to Burt, and then to Kurt, who were all fixated on Mackenzie as she tried to desperately get the bike out of the box. Blaine could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. "DADDY I GOT A BIKE!"
Burt was the first one up to help get the bike out of the box. It was small and purple, with big training wheels and silver tassels on the handles. Kurt produced a helmet, knee and elbow pads from the box as well. Blaine couldn't even stand. He was breathless, and in disbelief. He didn't deserve the Hummel's kindness. He found the tears in his eyes pooling more and more.
"Daddy can I go twy it?" Mackenzie asked, helmet already on her head.
"It's a little cold out, don't you think?" Blaine asked, choking on his words a bit.
"Why you sad, daddy?" Mackenzie asked, immediately picking up on her father's mood.
"This is a happy cry, baby," Blaine promised. "I'm happy Santa was able to get your bike to you."
"Me too! Can I pweeeese twy it?" Mackenzie begged, puppy dog eyes in full effect.
Blaine sighed, "Fine. But you need to put your coat and gloves on."
Mackenzie was off and running to where Burt had taken her coat from her in no time. Burt chuckled and jogged after her, clearly just as excited as Mackenzie was. Carole smiled at Blaine, put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and went after the two as well.
Kurt stayed in the living room, hands awkwardly in his pockets as Blaine finally let loose and let the tears fall. "Uh… Blaine… it's really not a big deal," Kurt insisted, taking a step closer to the man whose face was now in his hands. "Dad and I put it together with extra parts in the shop. It didn't cost anything at all really."
"It's not that," Blaine said, voice muffled by his own hands and sobs. "Just… thank you Kurt. And to your parents. I thought this was going to be Mackenzie's worst Christmas ever but…" Blaine trailed off, and sank his face into his hands again. He shouldn't be crying like this. Not in front of Kurt.
"How could you think that, Blaine? I'm sure you do more than everything to give that little girl the Christmas she deserves."
Blaine sat in silence for a moment, trying to compose himself. He did pretty well at stopping the tears. His face was still awfully read though, and he rested his forehead on his folded hands, and his elbows on his knees. "Blaine, it's ok, really," Kurt offered again, sitting down next to the distraught man.
Blaine took a deep breath, and finally said out loud what he'd been keeping in for some time. "Kurt, I lost my job."