It was promising to be a relaxing Saturday afternoon. His dad was working at the garage, Finn had gone to hang out with Puck, and he had managed to finish all of his homework that morning, which left his afternoon free. He had closed his books with a grin before bounding down the steps. It was the first time since entering Dalton that he had achieved such a feat, and so he had been looking forward to some good ole vegging on the couch. But, he had forgotten to factor Carole into his plans. He couldn't really be blamed. She hadn't had the weekend off since she and Burt had been married, but there she was, sitting on the couch in the living room with a magazine in her hands. She had looked up at his rather inelegant thumping, and offered him a kind smile.
"What has you so enthusiastic?" she asked.
Kurt hesitated in the doorway, feeling suddenly shy. "I finished all of my homework," he answered, ducking his head slightly. Was it too late to pretend that he had meant to go into the kitchen and not here?
"Ah, I see," she said knowingly. "And you want to reward yourself with some television hmm? Well go ahead, I don't mind."
"It won't disturb you?" he hedged, looking for a reason to leave, even as he scratched nervously on his arm.
"Living with Finn means that I can read or sleep through any amount of noise. Come on in sweetie, you won't bother me."
Well that left no room for escape, he thought, as he obeyed her directive and curled up in an armchair, turning on the television on a lowered volume. With her presence in the room though, Kurt found that he could not focus on the show. Instead, within minutes, he found his gaze drifting toward her, pulling back whenever he thought that she would notice him. He knew that he should not stare; it was rude and just a little strange, but his eyes continued to follow the woman's minute movements across the room. He thought he was being discreet about it, but apparently he wasn't, because the next time he looked across, he found her staring back at him with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Kurt's head ducked as a blush heated his face.
Carole's throaty laugh had him hesitantly looking in her direction. "I usually play peek-a-boo with the kids at the hospital. What's induced it in you?"
Kurt's blush deepened at being compared to a child. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"There's nothing to apologise for Kurt," she responded gently. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," he mumbled, suddenly finding his lap quite interesting.
He heard the rustle of paper that indicated the magazine being set aside. "Come on sweetie," she encouraged, the endearment causing his heart to flutter minutely. "Talk to me."
Kurt fidgeted, uncertain of what to say. He wished that a hole would just open up and swallow him, but nope, there was Carole, looking at him patiently. There was no right way for him to say "I'm staring because you're doing mom things", but really that was the truth of the matter. Kurt had been fine with the woman when she had dated his father, and even when they had initially moved in today. But now it was different, because now she was different. Carole wasn't just his dad's girlfriend anymore, she was his stepmother. And with that realisation had come an increased awareness of the changes she was bringing in their house. The house was always filled with delicious aromas when he finally got home from Dalton, be it a pot roast in the oven, peach cobbler on the counter top, or freshly baked muffins and cookies. He was usually the one responsible for those scents, having taken over his mom's role upon her death. There were also little feminine things littering the place; a tube of lipstick on the table, an earring in the bathroom and hair ties tossed carelessly about. Her throaty laughter was also becoming a familiar staple alongside his father's gruff commentary after dinner, when they relaxed together doing coupley-things (Finn's new term).
"Come on Kurt," she prodded, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile that promised to fix whatever it was that was bothering him. It was the type of smile he had not seen directed his way for years, and it was what finally loosened his tongue enough to say, "You're such a mom."
Maybe he could have phrased that better, he thought, removed the accusatory tone, and perhaps even adding a teasing lilt to it. Carole though, did not seem offended. Indeed, she looked at him confusedly for a moment, before shaking her head with a rueful laugh. "Oh sweetie," she breathed, before patting the spot beside her. "Come here Kurt," she bid, when he only stared at her. "Come on, now."
Reluctantly, Kurt moved to where she indicated, staring at her warily as she reached out to rub his cheek affectionately. "I was wondering when we would have this chat," she admitted, chuckling at the way his eyes widened. "Now, would you like to explain yourself?" she offered, although to Kurt, it seemed like she had already caught the nuisances of his words.
The continued caress proved a slight distraction for a moment, but, calming himself, he responded, cursing the way his voice sounded small as he spoke. "Mom died when I was eight," he told her, as if she wasn't already aware of that fact. She made a noncommittal sound, silently inviting him to continue. "There hasn't been a woman here since then. It's always just been dad and me, and now there's you and Finn. You're not her, but…you do mom things. Like this," he added, flushing as her fingers drifted to his ear where she tugged at it playfully. "You're always humming and laughing. You ask me how school was and you bring me a snack when I'm studying. You pack a lunch for me and you always wave me off and tell me goodnight. I-I know you come back and tuck me in sometimes when I fall asleep doing something. And you put those little notes in the Navigator every Monday. You're such a mom," he repeated.
Carole's eyes melted as she listened to the teenager before her bumble through his explanation. This was a side of Kurt she had never seen before, but truthfully, she had sensed it lurking just beneath that sassy fabulous side. It couldn't have been easy on him, she thought, not for the first time. Finn had simply never grown up with a father, and thus, never missed what he never had. Burt's arrival into his life had been accepted easily, and mere weeks into their marriage, Carole could swear that Finn and Burt had always known each other, the ease with which they interacted. He enjoyed the fact that he had company to yell at the television with, and to discuss topics that Carole simply could not bring herself to care about.
It was different for Kurt though. She knew that Burt had done his best by his son, but the situation had been far from ideal. By his own admission, Burt had said that he had shut down after Elizabeth's death, leaving the running of the house to a small child while he struggled to pull himself back together after losing the love of his life. By the time he had, things had changed irrevocably. Kurt had assumed control of the household and all of its responsibilities, leaving to Burt the sole task of bringing in a source of income to sustain them. Burt loved his son – there was no doubt about it. But still, Carole knew that things could have been a lot different had Burt given Kurt the attention he needed, rather than have simply showered him with gifts and money in lieu of the genuine love and affection his son obviously still craved. Those one armed hugs and head ruffles did not take the place of a good conversation or a late night chat over cups of cocoa.
"I am a mom, sweetie," she pointed out kindly, moving her hand to his cheek once again. "I'm not trying to replace your mom though. I'm just trying to be a mom to you."
Kurt stared at her with wide eyes like that, and Carole felt her heart tug. Had Kurt really thought that she would ignore him and not grant him the same privileges she afforded her biological son?
"You don't have to," he whispered, lowering his gaze. "You have Finn."
"And now I have you," she responded sincerely. "Sweetie, from the start I knew that it was a package deal; your dad knew the same. Do you think that I would purposely distance myself from you? I won't. You're as much mine now as Finn is, and I will treat you both equally. I care dearly about you Kurt, and I know that with time I'll come to love you as much as I do him."
"You care about me?"
"Of course I do. You're such a sweetheart Kurt, I would be stupid not to."
"I'm not," he protested, even as his cheeks darkened further at the caress. "I'm a jerk."
"To whom?" she demanded. "You have impeccable manners, a fashion sense that knows no bounds, and were there a way, I would transfer a quarter of your smarts to Finn."
"Carole," Kurt protested, a bit embarrassed by the lavish words. "I like you, I really do. You're nice, and good to dad. And, you're a good mom."
Carole smiled. "Well I'm glad that I have the Kurt Hummel stamp of approval," she teased.
Kurt smiled, before nipping his nip. After a moment, he shimmied closer to her, before dropping his head down onto her shoulder. "You know what else I like?" he asked softly, squirming into a more comfortable position as she wrapped a hand around him, holding him close.
"What?"
"You listen to me. Dad doesn't understand half of what I say. Plus I can talk boys with you. You don't mind."
Carole laughed at that. "Sweetie, believe me when I say that talking about boys has never and will never be a hardship for me. You would not believe me if I told you the number of times I got into trouble back in high school for that. Besides," she added, a mischievous lilt. "We don't talk about boys, just one in particular. Let me see, the one with hazel eyes, a dreamy smile and a voice like liquid-"
"Carole!" Kurt squeaked, pulling away from her.
The woman could not contain her mirth then, descending into a second wave of laughter when she noticed the injured air he had affected.
"You're mean," he declared, with a small pout.
Still chuckling, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm sorry."
"I don't forgive you," he grumbled, although he scooted closer to her when she resumed her gentle caress of his face.
"Oh?" she said, noting the teasing lilt in his voice. "What do I have to do to earn forgiveness?"
Kurt tapped the corner of his mouth thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "I suppose you can apologise by baking a meringue pie with me."
"Oh? I thought a certain someone only allowed himself one sweet treat a week, and that went on a Sundae yesterday."
"A great injustice has been wrought on me," he replied loftily. "I've been teased terribly. I think I deserve compensation."
Carole's lips twitched at his expression. The boy was too adorable for his own good, she decided. "Well, when you put it that way, I agree that some compensation is deserved."
"Good," he agreed, nuzzling into her shoulder.
They remained there in companionable silence for a few minutes before Kurt spoke again. "Carole?"
"Yes sweetie?" she inquired, tracing a lazy pattern on his arm.
"I know I said that you're such a mom. But really, I don't mind, okay?"
And that, Carole decided, as he rose up to lead the way to the kitchen, was the closest he had come yet to admitting that he cared for her. But, she added, following him, it was something that she would willingly embrace for now.