The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Seth left Ohio the day after Thanksgiving to head back to home in New York. He was driven to the station by Thad; Skylar had wanted to undertake the task, but Seth had asked him not to, as he feared that there would be a scene at the station, where his friend broke down as he headed off. He could trust Thad to let him board the train and not burst into tears, at least until the train had left. They arrived in good time, and having put his car into park, the Head Warbler spoke.
"So I was talking to Ollie… He told me that the damage is permanent, and that it is highly likely that your right leg, or one of your arms, could end up damaged in a similar way eventually. So, I want to remind you that if you ever need help with anything, anytime, day or night, you can call me. You are a brother to all of us, and we want to support you as best as we can, so that you can retain your independence for as long as possible."
"I know, and I do appreciate it, but well, let's be honest, there is only so much that any of you can do. I am losing the war, Thad. Mrs Carmichael and I had a chat when she drove me over the other day, and of course she recognises what happened with my leg for the sign that it is, because it was exactly the same with her brother. He lost the use of one of his legs, and that was the beginning of the end for him. I have no expectation that it will be any different for me. My condition will rob me of the power in my limbs, one by one, and eventually even propelling myself in this chair will be a Herculean task. Sooner rather than later, I will have to face the fact that I will no longer be able to take care of myself; even the most basic of tasks will have to be done for me by someone else, and I am not looking forward to that. I know that when that happens, Skylar will be insistent that I come to him, but that just makes me feel so guilty. He and Julia have just started off on their married life together, and I think that I could put a huge dampener on their happiness by being around all the time…"
Thad sighed, then replied, "I don't think that either of them see it like that for a moment. For Skylar, it is his way of returning the favour for the protection that you gave him on all those nights during Hunter's reign of terror at Dalton. It is all that he can do for you; ease your life as you suffer the worst moments of your condition and your time here draws to an end. You have to let him do it, because if you don't, I think it will eat him up inside for the remainder of his life…"
"I know…" answered Seth quietly. Then, with more determination, he continued, "Well in that case I hope that when the time does come, it is quick. I don't want to linger and be a burden."
"I'm afraid that we don't get a choice about how we pass, we have to accept what happens," cautioned Thad, worried that Seth might try and hasten things along. "Just know this; it will not be Skylar and Julia on their own in those final months. I'll be around, and just try and stop Mrs Carmichael from being about too. Anyway, it could be years yet…" Thad stopped then, as he and Seth both knew that with the speed at which the younger man's condition had worsened since the summer, it might well only be a few months….
Seth enjoyed the train ride home, knowing that this might well be the last time that he made the journey by rail, at least in this direction; that in all likelihood, his next train journey might be when he headed to Ohio for good. That made him feel emotional, but he refused to cry; the tears had come and gone so many times since his initial diagnosis, and they had never improved the situation, so shedding them seemed pointless. He found himself alone in the carriage he was travelling in, most business passengers still on holiday, so he revelled in the silence and seclusion. Then he felt the draught, which came as a surprise. He looked up, and saw that Kurt and Blaine had appeared, and were now sitting in the table seat opposite him…
"We never took the train from Ohio to New York, although I always had a desire to," said Blaine softly. "We always flew, firstly because when I was finishing my senior year I had so little time, and I needed to be fast; and secondly, when I was moving to the city for good, well the journey was done in a U-Haul, as I had my belongings to transport, and Sam's too for that matter. There is just something special about the train though; it is a much more romantic way to travel."
Kurt looked at his husband for a moment, rolling his eyes a little, which made Seth smile. "I suppose that it was glamorous back in the heyday of the railroad; back in the thirties when they had those sleek streamlined trains and luxurious compartments for those that had the money to pay. Trains that travelled under names, which ran from one grand city terminal to another… Penn will of course be restored to a little of its former glory soon, but I would have loved to have seen Grand Central back in those halcyon years, when it was a interstate terminal, not just the home of Metro North and the LIRR…" Kurt sighed, and Blaine nodded in agreement. "Having said all that, this carriage is pretty comfortable…"
"That's because it is much more expensive than the rest of the train," Seth said sweetly, then carried on… "So I am guessing that the two of year have been sent with a purpose, not just for a sentimental journey?"
"Well yes, and no. Wes was a trifle concerned about what he heard you say to Thad earlier, about how you wanted your death to be quick. He wanted us to remind you, as his husband also did, that there is no place in the heavenly realms for anything that quickens your departure. He also wants you to know that although he can't tell you when the end will come, he will do everything in his power to ensure that your suffering is eased as much as it can be," said Kurt.
"As for Skylar," Blaine continued, "Thad was right on the ball there. You have to let him do this for you, because his soul will not ever rest if he fails to be there for you at the end. I know that it will not be easy for you, but you have to let him in and allow him to care for you until the end. The benefit is that with Skylar, Julia and all the others, you will end your life with dignity, surrounded by love. When all is said and done, that is what we all need in our final days, particularly when it comes at the climax of a period of suffering and pain."
"We know that you like to be as self-sufficient as possible," added Kurt, "but trust me, such a trait isn't always a good thing. Looking back, I missed out on so much during my life because I was so determined to do it all myself; I just would not allow too many people in. Sometimes we have to admit that we have to sit back and let other people take some control…"
Seth nodded, then replied quietly, "It will be hard, but deep down I know that you are right. Look, please tell Wes that I would never even consider doing what he is so worried about as I know the consequences. Let's face it though; if, as is likely, my arms stop working properly too, I won't be able to take such a step myself in any case, no matter how much I desired it. Now, can you ask him to do one thing for me? Can you ask him to tell those in authority that, if it is at all possible, I would like things to be as soon as possible. Skylar needs to be free to live his life. I lied about how bad I was to ensure he married, and now I need to make my exit before I cause problems in that relationship…"
With Thanksgiving over with for another year, all attention moved on to focus on the Christmas season. Jeff had already ordered a magnificent tree that would fit in the stairwell of the West Village house, and had made his way into the cellar store room to check the boxes of decorations. He had to see what was still perfect, and what needed to be replaced. As for Nick, he had already started to bake Christmas cakes, both for the family and as gifts for other people. In addition, he was also making a batch of traditional British Christmas puddings like the one he had made the previous year in London.
He went as far as to honour the concept of Stir Up Sunday, and had his husband and son join him in stirring the mixture. Then he had banished them from the kitchen on a pretext as he wanted to try something he had seen online. He spooned some of the pudding mixture into a ceramic bowl, then carefully placed a peeled clementine in the middle of the bowl, before covering it over with the mixture. Then he retrieved another bowl that he had lined with rows of shimmering glace cherries, and filled it up with mixture, so that when he took the pudding from the bowl, the jewelled fruit would cover the outside. He had seen both of the ideas on a food website, and he intended for them to be a centrepiece of the Warblers' Christmas Party, which he was resurrecting that year. The last of the mixture would provide a smaller pudding for the family on Christmas Day itself…
He had sent out the invitations to the party a week before Thanksgiving, for all the former members and their families; the honorary members had been invited too, and so far, pretty much everyone had accepted without hesitation. He had scheduled it for the Sunday night before Christmas, so that even those in the world of show could attend. He knew that most of them were making a point in doing so because of their worry over Seth; this could well be the last time that he would be able to attend such a gathering in New York, and they all wanted to make it memorable. It would be a full house, and Nick knew that he would be baking for hours beforehand, and preparing for at least a week. Jeff also knew that he would be called upon to make the savoury pastries, in inordinate amounts. Nick had also already placed a special order at the local bakery for bread to make the sandwiches, and without their knowledge, had already chosen Ethan, Drew and Beats to assist him in making them all…
As the last month of 2023 commenced, Sam received the news that they had all been hoping for; the launch episode of his sitcom had been followed by ratings success for the rest of the season so far, and critical acclaim for both the script and the cast. The network was thus taking up their option for the remaining episodes of the first season, and had ordered a second, with option on at least a third. That news was followed by the publication of an issue of Vogue with Sam on the cover, and a multi page spread inside. With his short lived modelling experience in the past, Sam had made short work of the complex photo shoot, in which he modelled a series of designer items that he could now easily afford, but would never bring himself to buy. Those years in relative poverty in high school had left him frugal when it came to spending his cash.
He was naïve enough to believe that when Isabelle asked him after he had worn each outfit if he would wear it himself, that she was asking him merely for an opinion, and thus when he was presented with a stack of bags containing the items in question at the end of the shoot, he was shocked. He had made to protest, but Isabelle had spoken first.
"I know enough about you from Kurt, Sam, to be aware that you will want to hand all that back and leave empty handed. However, all of this is a part of your own success. America has taken Darrin to their hearts, and the world will too soon enough. They have also taken Sam Evans to their hearts, thanks to your interviews with the great and the good. Look at it this way; you will need designer suits for celebrity dinners and award nights soon enough. I would not be surprised if the Emmys come calling - Rachel is going to love that…"
Sam nodded, the fact now dawning on him that she was right. If the critics and the public loved him and the show, then at least a nomination for one of those prestigious awards was likely.
Filming on the show would not restart until January, so, with Rachel performing nightly, it fell to Sam to organise the festivities at the Bedford-Stuyvesant house, with help from his siblings. His parents had agreed to come to the city for the big day, and although they did not strictly celebrate the holiday, Rachel's dads would be around too. Much to the surprise of some, he had also suggested to Rachel that she ask Jesse and his girlfriend to join them, as neither of them had family plans. He knew that it was rather unusual to invite your wife's ex-boyfriend to a family dinner, but he was also her employer, and he could write parts for her in a way that no-one else could. It was entirely feasible that as a collaborative partnership, director and leading lady could enjoy many years of success together, and one day he too might find himself offered a part in a St James production….
It also fell to Sam to decorate the house, which meant that it was done in a restrained and tasteful manner, a classic style with just a few of the more garish touches that had been suggested by his daughter after a visit to Bloomingdales. For Sam, a big family celebration was the perfect way to end what had been for him a highly successful year.
At the same time, things were much more complicated on the Upper East Side, where Flint had just received some news that had left him chilled to the bone. It was a problem of his own making of course; as far as his mother was concerned, he and Izzy were raising their son Aaron in a traditional Jewish home, naturally ignoring all of the holidays that did not fit in with their faith. In practice, Christmas was just as big a deal to their son as it was to every other child of his age. When his mother's name had appeared on his phone one morning in early December, Flint had shivered, taken a deep breath, then answered, braced for it to be the expected annual lecture about the evils of Christmas. He was quickly proved wrong, as she was calling for a much worse reason. She was basically informing him that she had invited herself to come and visit for Hanukkah, and was intending to stay for the entire duration of the holiday…
"I want to spend some time with my grandson whilst he is still young after all, and at such an important time in the religious year. I can show him all of the traditions, at the same time teaching him all about the evils of the commercialised holiday of Christmas and all of its jingoism…"
Flint managed to hold back his screams of horror at the prospect, particularly as he was looking right at the Christmas tree that they had decorated as a family the previous night, and the other decorations around the room. He glanced over at the little pile of chocolate snowmen left on the plate, those that Aaron had not already devoured, and then blanched as he imagined Izzy's face when he told her the news…
Realising his mother had stopped talking, he said as calmly as he could, "Well, that is a lovely idea, but to be honest, it really isn't the best time for us, mom. I'm so busy at work as the year comes to an end, and I know Izzy has a lot of shifts too…"
"Which means that you will need a sitter to help you look after your boy, and who better than his doting grandmother? Your father will be attending a conference in Connecticut for the whole week, but he can come and join us for the last night of Hanukkah, and we can celebrate together as a family."
Flint ignored the devil on his shoulder telling him to tell his mother that Donald Trump or Freddie Krueger would be better sitters, and said "Mom, I still don't think…"
"Well that's all settled then. My flight will arrive into La Guardia at 3pm on the 6th, and I will be with you until the 16th. I can even cook for you and save you both that work. This is going to be so much fun, just like it was when you were at home! Give my love to Isadora; she will be so excited to have me around at such a busy time!"
With those words his mother hung up, allowing Flint to stare blankly into space for a moment, before setting down his phone, turning round, and banging his head off the wall repeatedly as he keened…
When Izzy came home, she realised something was going on by the fact that Flint's forehead was bright red, and he had handed her a box of her favourite chocolates and a large glass of wine. When he broke the news to her, she did not emulate her husband, or throw the glass at him, or even call her mother to ask her to call up on the day her mother-in-law was due to arrive to say that an elderly relative had suffered a stroke, or a heart attack, or to be honest, anything life threatening enough that she would be forced to stay away from home until the 17th. Instead she called her mother-in-law back, and tried to prevent her coming. After 45 minutes she gave up; Mrs Wilson's arrival could only be prevented by the apocalypse, and even then she would probably arrive with one of the four horsemen - or even be one of them…
She returned to the drawing room to find her husband taking down a decoration which featured Father Christmas on a sleigh. "I was thinking we could leave up the tinsel and the paper chains; she will accept them as Hanukkah decorations. Anything that has even the most tenuous connection to Christmas will have to go. We also need to find that hideous, tacky menorah that she sent us last year; the one that you refused to give house room, and pretend that we love and cherish it dearly."
Izzy sighed, and recalled that she had stuffed it, along with a couple of equally horrible Hanukkah jumpers, into a box that had once contained nappies, then buried it in their storage room in the basement of the building. That could wait, but now she had to deal with a more immediate issue. "Aaron is not going to understand this at all. He is going to be so upset about the tree, after how excited he was when we decorated it together…"
Flint smiled, and said, "Well, although neither of us could stop her coming, I did come up with a little scheme that prevents her completely ruining this month for us. It struck me when I was warning Maribelle that she was coming, and what she was like." He shuddered as he recalled that conversation, in which he had basically told their current au pair that it was easiest to go with the following; his mother was always right, and she should never question anything she suggested - she should just nod, as it made life so much easier… Then, seeing that Izzy was waiting for him to continue, he said, "What if we took the tree, fully decorated, into Maribelle's room, and keep it there instead? We can tell my mom that she isn't allowed in there, and then, once she is on her way back to Kansas…"
"…on her broomstick," whispered Izzy.
"…on her flight," corrected Flint, although he secretly agreed with his wife, "we can bring the tree back in here and pretend that the whole ten days were just one hideous nightmare."
"And of course, Aaron could go and visit his tree in secret. That might work. I will go and ask Maribelle if she is okay with that, whilst offering her substantial danger money so that she doesn't up and leave on day two," replied Izzy, making her way out of the room. Behind her, Flint shook his head, but he really could see her point…
Fortunately, Maribelle agreed without the need for payment, just shaking her head a little at the effect that Mrs Wilson had on her son and his wife. With that done, Flint embarked on the next stage, which involved spreading the news of the impending doom to their friends and family. First on the list of people he called was naturally Beats; he replied very calmly and in a deadpan tone that he unfortunately did not have the authority to close down the city's airports, nor could he impose a lockdown on the Upper East Side to keep her out…
Flint had laughed, then replied, "Tempting though it is to ask if you know who does have the authority to do that, I just have to accept the inevitable. She is coming, and that means that we need to place Christmas and everything associated with it on hold until she leaves. That means there can be no cards or presents. In fact, I would suggest that you imagine that I am actually out of town for the whole event, and keep yourself safe in the West Village."
"The problem is that she will expect to see me at some point, given what I know about her," sighed Beats. "What about if I come over one night for dinner? I would bring Elliott and the boys, but I think that the discovery that the man that lead her son astray and into the world of gay bar stripping is now married to a man, has adopted a latino, and is fostering a gay African-American might cause her to foam at the mouth, or have a fit, or a stroke…"
"Tempting…"
"She would stay three times as long at least if she did, so be careful what you wish for," Beats replied.
"You make a valid and excellent point. However, she will spot your wedding ring, so to avoid you having to take it off, we need to make up a convincing story. We can tell her that you are married, but that your wife is currently away on a humanitarian mission somewhere in Africa."
"Trust me, it is easier if I take it off. If we say all that, she will want to see photos of the wedding, and at least the ones of my non-existent wife I keep on my phone. No, I am single, and you had better advise Rabbi Hirsch of that fact too. After all, she will be wanting to attend the temple whilst she's in town…"
Flint realised that his best friend had just made a very valid point, so after work the next day he headed down to the synagogue that he and Izzy still attended, albeit infrequently, even although it was more than 50 blocks from their home… He found the rabbi in her office, but did not really know where to start. She was an expert in people though, and had only to take one look at him before she said, "There is something weighing heavily upon your mind, and I am guessing that it is to do with family. I hope that your relationship with your wife is as good as it should be; I mean, I know what long hours you young people work these days…
"Oh, no, Izzy and I are perfectly okay, and Aaron is progressing wonderfully; however, you were right in saying that the problem was family. We are getting a visitor, who invited herself, for the duration of Hanukkah…"
The rabbi nodded, and then said, "Let me guess. Distinctive hat, rather shocked that I wasn't an old wrinkled man?" Flint nodded, and so she continued, "Please do not be offended, but if a sitcom writer was attempting to create the stereotype of a Jewish mother…"
"Mine, every single time. I can handle her being around for a weekend, but she is coming for the whole of Hanukkah! That visit brings me to the reason that I came; I need to beg a favour, because there is a strong chance that she will come down here at some point…."
"You never miss a Sabbath," said Rabbi Hirsch with a smile, which made Flint laugh.
"If you say that, she will smell a whole nest of rats! No, I need you to forget all about the Harper-Gilbert wedding; both of them. As far as you know, Beats is single. If he was married to a nice girl, and not Elliott, it would be fine for my mother, but the actual situation… My mother will expect Beats to show up at some point, but she has issues with him over stuff that happened when we were at college, and if she finds out he is married to a man… it isn't worth the stress!"
"I quite understand, and I am so glad that you aren't going to make up stories about an absent wife. She would want to see photos, or would start searching marriage records if I know her type. No, best he is single and celibate."
"That's what Beats said himself, but I don't want to force him to take off his wedding ring for my sake. It's not my place…"
The rabbi looked thoughtful, then said, "I believe that you have a friend that is a doctor? I mean, Mr Harper-Gilbert might have had an accident, managed to break his ring and middle fingers, which means that they are strapped together under a swathe of bandages… Something that he could slip on and off that would cover his ring."
Flint smiled broadly and replied, "That is genius, and just a little devious! He would need to keep it in his pocket, just until she goes, but yeah, it works."
"And you attend every other Sabbath, and all the festivals naturally…"
"That sounds about right. Thank you for your time, and I promise to try and inflict her on you as infrequently as I can." Flint left with a smile, and went so far as to place a $100 bill in the donations box on the way out. Behind him, Rabbi Hirsch contemplated the prospect of Mrs Wilson visiting, and wondered if she could discover asbestos in the building somewhere, forcing it to close for say, the 8 days and nights of the observation…
When Flint told Beats the plan, the former beatboxer thought it was nuts, but for the sake of Flint's sanity he went along with it. He decided that rather than heading to the hospital and bothering Ollie, he would go next door and see if Kyle and Lawrence could help him out; there were some advantages to having two ex-Warblers, now in med school, living next door. He explained the issue to them, going so far as to bring out the photos from Flint's wedding to show them what he was up against. Like him, they burst out laughing the moment they saw the hat, and then cringed as he described what Mrs Wilson was like. They readily agreed to manufacture the fake bandage to help fool the lady in question. A core tube of white cardboard was made first, to give a solid base, and then they wrapped the bandages around it. It looked the part, covered his wedding ring, held his fingers tightly together, but still slid off without a problem when he needed it to.
"Thanks for this guys. Mrs Wilson is a law unto herself, and for the sake of saving Flint losing his mind entirely, she has to think that everything is just so and as she expects it. To that extent I have even obtained the keys to the flat above Seth from Jeff for the time I am here, so that it can look as if I am living alone."
"That's a little extreme, isn't it?" exclaimed Kyle. "I hardly imagine that she is going to be stalking you!"
"I would not put anything past her, trust me; I know what she will stoop to. It's a long story, but she doesn't particularly like me. Next time the two of you are speaking to Thad, ask him to tell you everything about my job whilst I was studying at Princeton. Say I have given him my permission." With that, Beats headed off, leaving two confused young men behind, both of whom felt a sudden urge to make a phone call to Ohio and speak to the Head Warbler…
By the following day, everything was more or less sorted for the arrival of the one woman in the world that could reduce Flint Wilson into a quivering wreck. There was no trace of Christmas left in their home, with the exception of Mirabelle's room, which was like a Santa's Grotto in a department store. Izzy had called her parents, and they had announced that they would be avoiding Manhattan for the duration; when her mother told Izzy to apologise to Mrs Wilson for not being able to visit, and use an excuse about how she was currently caring for a sick and elderly relative, all the young doctor could think at that precise moment was 'like mother, like daughter.'
They had warned the doorman of the building too, and the way that his eyebrows shot up when Flint spoke to him was all the indication he needed that the man remembered his mother all too well. Flint had however been stopped by his wife from telling his son that if he mentioned Santa or St Nicholas or Father Christmas in front of his grandmother, he would be on the naughty list and not get any presents. She had felt that was too cruel at his age. Instead, she suggested that should he mention him, they would both complain loudly to Mrs Wilson about the absence of a good Jewish kindergarten in the neighbourhood. There was now nothing else that they could do save take a deep breath and pray that they would emerge on the other side of the festival bruised, battered, but relatively unscathed…