Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy this new chapter, beta'd by the amazing ASadAir :)
A weary huff escapes Blair as the car treks along the empty road so slowly that she's convinced she could get to Albany faster by foot.
"When you called yourself an old soul, did you mean it in the literal sense? Because all the local retirees keep passing you on the highway and I'm thinking your soul might be even older than theirs. " Blair finally asks as they cross the state line into Massachusetts. She had mapped the journey last night and it should have only taken an hour, tops.
Dan glowers at her. "I find it interesting how skilled you are at backseat driving when you've never even driven before."
"I've driven before." Blair counters, a little defensively. "I had my learner's permit."
"But not your driver's license?" Dan asks pointedly.
"I forgot to take the test." Her shrug suggests indifference. "I was busy with scholarship applications. Something you wouldn't know about."
The long car ride might be making her a bit feisty, she'll admit. Their friendly banter has slowly been escalating into hostile bickering. Blair reaches into the glove box, desperate for a reprieve from the oldies Dan insists on playing. She can't listen to another minute of Neil Diamond; she'll jump out of the car if she has to.
"'Dan's Sweet Beats'," Blair instantly breaks into laughter. "What is this?"
Dan snatches the homemade CD away from her. "Stop ransacking my vehicle."
Blair easily grabs the CD back from Dan, who is too focused on the road to possibly successfully fight her. "I didn't even know cars still had CD players." She says as she ejects the current CD and pops in much more intriguing "Sweet Beats".
She practically jitters with anticipation as the first notes of a song begin… She quickly realizes it's Spice Up Your Life. "The Spice Girls?"
Dan quickly hits skip on the stereo and an even more incriminating song comes on. As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys belts out and Blair is now practically doubled over in the passenger seat with laughter. "I can't decide whether the title of this mix is the most humiliating part or the songs on it. What, did you think calling it 'Sweet Beats' would be a less embarrassing cover up for what's actually on this CD?"
"Jenny must have burned another CD on it." Dan replies defensively, cheeks a vibrant shade of red. At her incredulous look, he says. "I'm serious. She loved boy bands. That was like her generation."
"Her generation?" Blair frowns at him. "Aren't you and Jenny only two years apart?"
"You know what I mean." Dan replies sharply.
Blair listens to the chorus and surmises, "I must say this is far preferable to Sweet Caroline. Honestly, I was starting to think you were trying to seduce me with that succession of If You Leave Me Now and Let's Stay Together."
"Of course not." Dan's unexpectedly sharp response makes Blair turn to look at him. He stares intensely at the road and then suddenly busies himself with adjusting the odometer.
"I was kidding." She adds, out of necessity. The last thing she wants to do is make things weird between the two of them before they're even halfway through the drive yet. She changes the subject. "So what's Thanksgiving like at your mother's house?"
"Much better than with my dad. Lily's idea of Thanksgiving dinner is a catered five-course feast served by butlers in vests."
"Sounds horrible," Blair replies sardonically. "Poor you."
He glances at her. "I'm not like her, you know? I am grateful for all she's done to help pay for my education but I don't live as frivolously as the van der Woodsen's."
"Sorry," Blair says automatically, feeling like she's unnerved him. "I didn't mean to imply that you're spoiled."
It's then that she notices she's soured the easy energy between them with all her criticism and snide remarks. But she can't tell why she's being like this. She wants to be nice to him but as soon as she speaks, something sharp comes out instead.
Maybe it's just a by-product of too much conversation. She knew they passed notes for a reason.
Trying to set things back to the way they are supposed to be, Blair asks, "Does your mom cook or does Alexander?" She knows Dan can be prickly about his mother's boyfriend so she hopes this is a safe question.
"Both of them cook. My mom makes the sides while Alexander makes the turkey. There was talk of doing a turkey-free Thanksgiving but Jenny threatened not to come so that got shut down rather quickly." Dan shakes his head. "As if she will actually eat the turkey let alone the mashed potatoes."
Blair remembers her own adolescent eating habits – the pumpkin pie was always her weakness. It's now that she realizes she hasn't even thought about deliberately throwing up in three months. Glancing down at her sweater and skirt, she sees that they fit her properly, not loosely like they used to. Dan starts talking again before she can fret over this fact, which is a good thing because she knows how easy it is to fall back to her old ways over the holidays.
"But the point is, Jenny will be there, which is good. Normally I have to personally chauffeur her from Manhattan to Hudson in order to get her to see our mother. I'm calling this progress." Dan nods to himself.
"Instead, you got stuck chauffeuring me." Blair quips. "I won't ask who's the worst passenger, I think I already know."
Dan softens, hazarding a glance her way as traffic slows. "I'm glad you're here. I would be bored out of my mind right now. I would take your music complaints over an empty passenger seat without a second thought."
"You're a good liar." Blair says with a smile, sinking back into the cushioned leather seat. Her tone turns serious as she says, "But, me too. It's nice talking to you –really talking to you, as you once put it."
Their eyes meet over the center console and Blair notes the rays of sunshine pouring through the windshield as a sudden warmth spreads through her chest.
Blair slides out of the car as Dan unloads her bags out of the trunk. The bags are surprisingly light, he thought for sure she'd have a tendency to overpack just like Jenny, whose bags always cost extra at the airport baggage check.
"Thanks," Blair says, taking the bags. "Come on,"
Dan looks at her quizzically and she continues on. "Aren't you going to come inside and meet my mother? She's still half-convinced that you only drove me here as a ruse to kidnap me."
"Why would she think that?" Dan asks, taken aback.
Blair laughs, shaking her head. "She finds it inconceivable that a 'wealthy boy' like you would be nice just for the sake of being nice." She shrugs. "The usual middle-class skepticism of the upper-class and all that."
Dan stays firmly put by the trunk and Blair sighs. He feels her hand wrapped around his arm, as she gives him a firm tug.
"Smile, at the very least. She'll like you, remember? You told me all mothers love you." Blair doesn't knock, she just opens the door and drops her bag in the hallway. "Mom?"
Dan hears the sound of footsteps and then sees a slightly older version of the woman in the framed photograph on Blair's desk back at school, rounding the corner. "Blair, honey."
She comes over and hugs her daughter, embracing her tightly. Then, she looks at Dan and smooths her hair before extending a hand. "I'm Eleanor."
"Dan," Dan shakes her hand firmly. "It's a privilege to meet you."
He wants to say more, like how lovely her home is, having the cozy feel that Lily's Upper East Side sprawling penthouse could never obtain, or like how she raised the most impressive girl he had ever met. But he's suddenly nervous and his mouth feels sort of dry so he just sticks his hands and his pockets and looks at Blair.
Blair rolls her eyes at him for some unknown reason and then his phone begins to ring. He glances at the screen, frowning down at the time as Jenny's photo appears on screen. He declines the call.
Blair apologizes for him. "Dan's supposed to be in Hudson by now, I've made him late."
Eleanor smiles, "It's quite alright. Thank you for driving Blair all the way here, Dan. That was very sweet of you. Maybe next time you're upstate we can plan on you staying for dinner?"
"Definitely." Dan says, nodding. "I would like that."
"Great," Eleanor smiles brightly and puts a hand on his shoulder as he heads for the door. "Thank you again, Dan. I'm relieved you got my daughter here safely."
Over her shoulder, Blair mouths, 'told you', as though to reiterate the fact that her mother was quite wary of them. She gives him a small wave and Dan wonders if her mother wasn't between them if they would hug right now. Instead, they are left with this strange goodbye that shouldn't feel monumental at all since it's only for seven days but somehow, it does.
"Have a nice Thanksgiving," Dan says, stepping onto the porch.
"You too," Eleanor says.
"See you, Dan." Blair gives him a small wave and then turns around, just as he watches a mysteriously melancholy expression spreads across her face.
It's what he thinks about the whole drive to Hudson. It's the first time he lets himself wonder seriously if there might be something more.
9th grade.
Albany, NY.
This is going to be the best Thanksgiving ever, Blair is certain of it. Nate and his mother, Anne, are spending it at their house. On top of that, Harold, Blair's donor dad, is coming with his partner, Roman, who Blair has Skyped with and finds quite charming. Her mother is apparently having a date over – a lawyer type named Jack, but Blair doesn't even mind.
"Pumpkin pie." Blair says firmly, eyes unblinking.
"No," Nate says, his mouth upturned in a way that suggests he knows he will get his way. "Apple."
"Pumpkin."
"Apple."
They continue on like this for ten minutes, just debating pie varieties, until they're interrupted by a ringing doorbell.
"Your dad!" Nate says excitedly.
"Harold," Blair corrects. She's always careful to make sure not to call him 'Dad.' That would be more than Harold bargained for.
She goes to the door and lets him in, he hugs her as warmly as a real father might. Roman does the same and she suddenly feels like the pair of them makes up for the loss of an actual dad.
"Blair bear," Harold doesn't shy away from using Blair's nickname he coined. It always makes her feel fuzzy inside. "Introduce me to this Nate of yours."
Blair feels embarrassed for a moment that he called him 'her Nate' but looking at Nate trailing in from the kitchen, she sees her friend doesn't seem to mind one bit. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"You too." Harold beams. "It's great to see you outside of that screen." He references their Skype sessions which Nate is frequently present for.
"Where's that busy mother of yours?" Harold asks, glancing around.
Eleanor bustles in from the kitchen where she was basting the turkey and takes over as hostess. The night flies from there, easily the best holiday Blair has ever had. She eats more than she thinks she's eaten the entire year too, a full serving plus dessert.
Not once does she think of ridding her body of the calories. She won't think of that until next year – when Nate's gone, Harold and Roman are back in France, and she's being iced out by her so-called friends. There would be no one around to make her feel beautiful, no lonely sorrows to remind her that she'll never be enough.
But for this one deliriously happy Thanksgiving, everything is perfect. Magical, even.
It's a Friday morning and Dan should be sitting next to Blair in Intro to Film studies but instead, he's watching his mom and sister fight about Black Friday sales. Right, two more days to go until he trades familial drama for collegiate routine. Momentarily, he thinks of texting Blair but they texted almost all day yesterday so he decides not to.
Through their rampant exchange of messaging, he learned it had just been Blair, her mom, their neighbor Dorota and her family yesterday. So all in all, her Thanksgiving hadn't been very eventful. Dan's too had been lowkey with Jenny too busy scoping out the next day's sales on her phone and his mom and Alexander taking PDA to new, uncomfortable heights. His dad and Lily had FaceTimed them briefly but other than that, he had plenty of time to text with Blair all about how campus, classes, and quizzes were preferable to this overload of family time.
It's so strange, he still thinks, how just one year ago he had tried to stretch out each St. Judes' holiday break as much as possible. But now, he finds himself counting down the hours until break is over. Blair, too, said she's in a rush to get back to campus, citing fear Georgina will have burned down their dorm with her tendency to leave the flat iron switched on before jetting off to the Maldives for vacation.
Staring at the clock, he mentally calculates the hours until he's driving them back to Yale.
When the clock finally strikes nine the following morning, he's already at the station. Blair insisted on taking the train down to Hudson to save him the extra trip upstate. He waits patiently by the tracks, watching the Amtrak's tarnished train cars whirl by.
At last, the Maple Leaf pulls up and Dan feels a rush of anticipation as it screeches to a halt. One by one passengers deboard, most of them clad in touristy shirts bearing wine-themed slogans like "Rose All Day" or "You Had Me At Merlot." He winces at the thought of Blair being sandwiched between one of these winos in a coach-class seat. He smiles with relief when he sees her finally crossing the platform toward him.
"Chardon-hey," Dan says wryly, in greeting. He flicks his gaze toward a bleached blonde middle-aged woman who not only has on a pun-laden tee but also a tote bag with yet another cringe-y wine-quip.
Blair heaves a groan, visibly shaking off her disdain. "Sorry to disappoint but I didn't stop by the vineyards to pick you up one of those monstrosities."
Dan takes the leather weekender bag off her shoulder. "I'm devastated."
Blair lets out a breathy laugh as they walk up the steps and into the daylight. "You saved me. I was going stir-crazy. My mother kept making me be her fit model and I swear I've had acupuncture sessions with far less needle pricking."
He lifts the hatchback of his Volkswagen Golf and sets Blair's bag beside his. Once he's inside the car, he sees Blair procure a few CDs from her bags. He looks at her quizzically.
"You didn't really think I was going to listen to more Neil Diamond, did you? Or more of 'Dan's Sweet Beats'?" Blair asks as she pops one of the discs in.
"We'll start with Vivaldi – it stimulates the mind."
Dan tries not to show his dismay at having to listen to classical for the next three hours. But then he remembers that he's headed back to the place where he belongs and the symphony of violins accompanying the drive suddenly feels right.
Within an hour, they are back to bantering and acting like they are five seconds away from a physical fight. And all the while, the words 'I missed you' echo in his mind.
When they cross the state line Blair sinks back into her chair and looks over at him. He could almost swear her expression says what he doesn't find the courage to say.
TBC...