Kevin Flynn just wrote your favorite game (greetngsprogrms) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-11-28 00:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | kevin flynn, rarity, tony stark (iron man) |
Who: Kevin, Rarity/Rachel, Family, and guest appearance by Tony Stark!
When: Thanksgiving!
Where: Kev and Rare’s place
What: Thanksgiving!
Rating/Warning: Low/None
Status: Incomplete
Rachel was in the kitchen. Her mother and father were sitting in the living room, with her kid sister. They’d arrived early, and Belle--her younger sister--was already making a bit of a mess with things. Rachel had decided not to freak out about the whole thing, she was choosing to ignore the way her sister was spilling things, dirtying things, making a right mess. Rachel had more important things to think about--she was making Thanksgiving dinner for the first time ever by herself, trying not to worry too much about meeting Kev’s dad for the first time, and trying not to spill anything on her fabulous Thanksgiving outfit in the process.
Kevin Flynn glanced in the rear-view mirror of the car at his dad in the backseat before flashing his mother a nervous smile as she sat in the passenger seat next to him. He loved his parents, but if he had to be honest, he had more than mixed feelings about Rachel meeting his dad for the first time, and would have preferred just to have brought his mother. Kenneth Flynn was not exactly the genial type. A stern man of principles, he hadn't taken Kevin's hiatus from ENCOM well, especially to "chase skirt", as the elder Flynn put it. Considering the position Kevin had been holding was part of his penance for working for rival company Starfire Technicorp and his subsequent illegal actions against them when he was fired, the senior Flynn had at least expected his son to take the job seriously. He had muttered that at least Kevin hadn't jumped ship to Stark Industries, otherwise Kevin would have been dead to him.
"Remind me why we couldn't do this at our house with your mother's cooking? What, is it not good enough for you now?" Kenneth suddenly spoke, with a sort of dour expression and sarcastic tone. Kevin's mother, Alison Flynn, gave her husband a reprimanding look via the rear-view mirror.
"Kenneth," she intoned, scolding him. Looking at her son apologetically she said, "I'm sorry, honey, the medicine the hospital gave Dad makes him irritable."
Kevin was frowning at the road ahead, stiff as a board with insult. Things were off to a great start, and they'd only been in the car for fifteen minutes. "Sure, mom." But he was more than wise to the fact that was his father's general demeanor, only now less subtle and definitely more tactless than it used to be; he could blame THAT on the medicine.
"I can't wait to see Rachel again, it was so nice having coffee with her that one time." Mrs. Flynn said brightly. That broke Kevin's raincloud immediately, as he knew she knew it would, and he smiled.
"Yeah, she told me you guys talked up a storm," Kevin grinned. He could see the two of them doing all the girly things together Rachel loved doing. He was grateful for his mother's willingness to give his girlfriend a chance.
Kevin turned the final corner leading to their house and pulled up. "Home sweet home," Parking in the driveway, he pulled out the reusable handmade bag Rachel used for food shopping; she'd forgotten a few things in her zeal to make the perfect Thanksgiving Day feast. Kevin pulled open the door for his dad who stubbornly refused his wife's help out of the car, which only made his exit take longer. His extended stint in the hospital had left him slow and more unsteady on his feet for the time being. They made it to the front door of the house and Kevin swung open the door with a "We're here!" And the warm air mingling with the savory fragrances of cooking greeted them. "Smells good, babe!"
The apron helped with the not spilling things on her beautiful outfit. Anything she did spill just went on the apron. Mostly flour and spices, the liquids she was far more careful with. Rachel winced a bit as her sister dropped another egg onto the floor. At least this one was hard-boiled. "Good job with those devilled egg Horsderves," she said.
"They're here! They're here!" Belle jumped up and down, still wearing the smaller version of the same apron that Rachel was wearing. Rach had made them both in her preparations for Thanksgiving dinner--they had flair on the shoulder straps and turkeys on the front. Pockets, of course, were shaped like pumpkin pie. The little girl came bounding around the corner from the kitchen to the front entryway, and jumped straight up into Kevin's arms.
Belle had taken to her older sister's boyfriend right away. She was happy, and perky, and smart. The young girl knew from the get go that Kevin was a good guy, and the two had started playing board games and plotting evil pranks to play against Rachel from moment one. Rachel's parents, on the other hand, were good-natured yokels. It was a wonder that Rachel grew up the way she did--the fashionista wannabe. Perhaps it was to distance herself from said parents. They had neither any inkling of a fashion sense nor the social grace to know they didn't have one. At least they were sitting peacefully in the living room, watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade on the television.
Rachel followed her sister's lead and poked her head into the entryway. Where Belle may have had bits of flour in her hair, Rachel was still perfectly groomed, her hair and make-up impecable. She grinned, then accepted the bag from Kevin--who must now be struggling with a young girl's tackle--and turned to Kevin's mother. "Mrs. Flynn," she said by way of greeting, and gave the older woman a quick hug and kiss on each cheek. "It's so wonderful to see you again!"
"Ho, hey there!" Kevin's face lit up with a grin and he backpedaled a step as he got glomped by Rachel's pint sized sibling. He gave a ruffle of her flour accented hair. "Helping Rach cook, huh? Nice apron! Hope you saved some marshmallows for me." He winked, then gave Rachel a quick kiss as she grabbed the bag from his other arm. He watched as the two women exchanged hugs before Alison Flynn started the girl talk.
"Marshmallows? Did Kevin give you my recipe for sweet potatoes?" She barely paused a breath before holding her at arms length. "Oh, Rachel, did you make those aprons? They're absolutely adorable!”
Kevin watched the exchange a moment before he knew he'd have to cut in. He cleared his throat a little before moving aside to reveal his father behind them. "Rachel, this is my dad, Kenneth. Dad, this is Rachel.”
Rachel nodded, beaming, to Mrs. Flynn. “He said it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving dinner without your famous Sweet Potatoes. I only hope I did them something of justice. I may not be the best cook in the world, but I can definitely follow a recipe.” Then another little laugh and smile. “Yes, I whipped them up when I learned that my sister would be helping me with the dinner.”
“I sure am!” Belle responded, puffing up her chest and beaming proudly. “Don’t worry, Kevin,” she added, putting on a stage whisper and grinning at him. “I saved you half a bag!”
She went slightly pink, and turned to Kevin’s father. This was the moment she’d been somewhat dreading. “Hello, Mr. Flynn.” She said, feeling like she should courtsey. “Dinner’s ready, whenever you are.”
"Oh sweetheart, I'm sure you did a wonderful job. The both of you. By the looks of Kevin I'm fairly certain you're a very good cook. Isn't that right?" The last part was purposely aimed at Kevin.
He almost missed the cue as he was busy chatting with Belle. "Half a bag? You sure it's not more like a quarter of a bag? I bet you gobbled a bunch up!" And he had proceeded to tickle Belle.
Rachel blushed when Mrs. Flynn said she did well. She nodded, giving a 'well, I tried' sort of smile. Though, when his mother mentioned Kevin's size, Rach wondered if that was a dig. Like she let him get fat? Surely that couldn't be the case? She gave a nervous chuckle.
"Kevin," his mother intoned. He finally paused and realized, blue eyes registering the cue. "Yeah, of course! She's an excellent cook. I'm the one that burns water."
Rachel turned to look at Kevin with her sister, and grinned softly. Kevin's self-depreciating humor could liven up any situation. She would have argued his case--that he was just as good at ordering delivery as she was at cooking food in the house--but the moment passed before she found the words.
When the introductions were made, Kenneth Flynn straightened up despite the cane in his hand. He looked everything an aged CEO should, if only a bit tired in the lines of his face. He nodded to Rachel and said, "Very good. At least she's punctual, which is more than I can say for you, my boy." Kevin visibly bristled a little, an unusual look for him. He watched his father slowly head down the hall with a rhythmic thump of his cane. "Keep him on his toes, he needs constant motivation." Kenneth said to Rachel as he passed.
Mrs. Flynn came up behind him, mouthing an apology, then in a hushed whisper quickly explained to Rachel the same thing she'd told Kevin in the car. "I'm hoping once he's fed the grumpy bear part of him will go away." And she offered a well meaning smile. "Come, I'll help you with the serving." To Kevin she said aloud, "Kevin, help your father."
"I don't need help!" Kenneth called back grouchily.
"Oh hush, yes you do." She chided and started ushering Rachel into the sanctuary of the kitchen.
"Dad...dad...that's the living room," Kevin mumbled, watching the stubborn man head the wrong way.
"Okay." Rachel moved with Mrs. Flynn into the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder at Kevin and Belle. She shrugged her shoulders, giving a 'sorry about that!' sort of expression. It wouldn't take them more than a few minutes to put all of the food into the serving dishes and get them onto the table.
Belle grabbed onto Kevin's hand. "Kevin! Come here! The parade is playing! You gotta see it!" She said, and for a young, small girl she had quite a bit of tug. The two moved into the living room where Rachel's parents were sitting.
"We can switch it back over during the commercials," Rachel's father was saying. He had a Hawaiian shirt on, a bushy moustache, and was clicking the channels until he found the game. Whichever one it was. Football. Rose bowl?
"All I'm sayin' is that our little Sweetie Belle will want to see Santa at the end of the parade. And it's coming on fast." Rachel's mother was saying. Her hair was very tall--like out of the 1960's tall-- and she was fluffing it up with fake, heavily manicured red nails.
"Okay, okay!" He laughed, letting himself be tugged along. "Any cool balloons I miss? I heard they did one of Toothless. Shame most of 'em are being kept low to the ground. How cool would it be to see a giant dragon balloon over your head!" When they entered the living room, Kevin's father was already there. He was frozen in place in shock as he stood there behind the couch, seeing Rachel's folks for the first time.
Kevin had an inkling of what was probably his father's first impression of Rachel's parents. Unbelievable. Like something out of an SNL skit. Kevin couldn't even begin to understand how Rachel was related to them, but then again, he wondered now if she was having the same impression with his folks. A well meaning, soft spoken mother and a surly old man for a father. And here he was, a spastic poster boy for ADHD with a mischievous streak and an obsession with breaking all the rules when it came to computers and well, a lot of other things. It wouldn't have been the first time if he was asked if he was adopted.
"Good god, son. Please tell me you don't plan on marrying this woman," he uttered between them under his breath. Kevin scowled and decided to ignore him.
"Hey, guys! The jolly old fat man cross the finish line yet?"
Rachel was definitely the black sheep of her family, too. Her kid sister was hyper and friendly, very well meaning but a little pushy, and always under her feet. Her mother and father were... well, "white trash" is a very ugly label, and not entirely true... but fairly close. As much as Rachel would knock the teeth out of anyone else who dared to use the term for her family, she had thought it from time to time.
"Not quite." Rachel's father said, giving Kevin a smile. "Bring Sweetie Belle in here so she can see when he does."
Kevin let Sweetie Belle go in and take a seat on the carpeted floor before the large flat screen television.
“Everyone’s here, and Rach says dinner’ll be ready in a minute, they’re just setting the table.” Kevin stole a glance over his shoulder at his father, who was glaring at him like he’d lost his mind involving himself with these people. For his part, Kevin tried not to look frustrated. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, this is my father. Kenneth Flynn. Dad, may I present to you, Rachel’s parents.” There was a slight edge in the last statement, missed by most but Kevin knew not by his father.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Mrs. Flynn was helping Rachel place the steaming plates of food onto the already immaculately set table. “Oh, Rachel, this is absolutely lovely.” she said as they popped back into the kitchen after placing several of the side dishes. “You’ll have to tell me where you got that tablecloth. I’m looking to replace mine. It’s much too old and stained.” She picked up the plate full of biscuits then paused.
“Biscuits? That’s new.” She smiled at her. “Never thought of making those.” The turkey was sitting on the kitchen island, covered and ready to be placed. “How did cooking the turkey go? Any trouble? I remember my first time doing it, I was so grossed out by all the bits inside I nearly had to excuse myself.” And she laughed sweetly.
While Kevin was introducing his father to Rachel’s parents, Rach was in the kitchen with Kevin’s mother. She was wiping her hands on her apron after washing them--again, Rachel was a very meticulously clean cook--and smiling at the older woman. “Oh, this old thing? Why, it’s nothing.” The tablecloth matched the napkins, and coordinated with the table settings--the flatware and dishes. She may have come from a modest background, but Rachel was a fashionista. It showed in her absolutely fantastic table.
“Biscuits are absolutely delicious. I’ll give you my recipe. The secret is cornmeal.” She said, almost breaking into a conspiratory whisper. “Oh, I had Kevin help me with the turkey this morning when we put it in the oven… I think he looked a bit more green around the collar than I did.”
Kevin’s mother shook her head and she brought a dish of green beans to the table. “Nonsense. This looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. You’re really quite wonderful at this home decorating sort of thing.”
His mother’s eyes lit up at the offer of the recipe. She did love to cook, but Kevin was usually the one that had been home to eat her meals, his father too busy all the time with business meetings. It was a wonder Kevin had grown into the beanpole he was. “Cornmeal, well isn’t that clever. Yes I’d love the recipe!” She laughed as Rachel relayed Kevin’s reaction to the reality of cooking a turkey. “I bet he expected it to be miraculously empty and clean. He never stuck around to watch how it was done, too busy watching the parade with his grandmother or playing touch football with the boys in the neighborhood.” It was the only time Kevin would ever deign to play sports, as it turns out. Roughhousing with his childhood friends and cousins that would come over for the Thanksgiving feast was a tradition.
Not like Rachel was into playing sports, either. She gave a little laugh. “I can’t imagine Kevin playing football.” She said, then turned to get back to work. She’d get the collection of recipes and give them all to Kevin’s mother. And then she started brainstorming ideas about making her own cookbook. But she had too many things going on in her life.
“I SEE SANTA!” Came the squeal of a very excited little girl from the living room. Both of Rachel’s parents cheered as the fat man in red came on the screen on his float, ushering in the end of the parade.
Rachel gave a little chuckle. “It’ll be about three and a half minutes before they’re in here asking when dinner is.”
Mrs. Flynn chuckled softly, her eyes smiling the same way Kevin's did. "I know. The first time he asked to go out to play I think he was ten. I thought I was hearing things! I was afraid they were going to tease him. But nope. They got right into it as if he'd been playing with them all along. He's surprisingly athletic."
Back in the living room Kevin watched as Sweetie Belle was beside herself with a child's enthusiasm at seeing Santa.
"Merry Christmas guys!" Kevin laughed. Stooping to talk between them he asked Sweetie Belle, "So what'd you ask Santa for Christmas?" Now was a good time as ever to see what the little girl wanted. He'd of course have to tell Rachel because odds were good he'd forget.
Meanwhile, Kevin's father had quietly disappeared from the living room and made his way to the dining room. He stood there watching the women place the last of the dishes on the table. "I take it we're ready?" He looked irritated or impatient, it was difficult to tell.
Rachel knew exactly how surprisingly athletic Kevin was. Though most of her experience with his physical abilities was in the bedroom behind closed doors. She flushed a little at that thought, and then felt incredibly naughty and embarrassed for having that kind of thought in the same room with Kevin's mother. She cleared her throat. "Maybe he can go out into the yard with Belle and my dad and his dad and play." Not like Rachel was going to play. And she couldn't imagine her mother holding a football.
"I want a Nintendo 3DS!" Sweetie Belle said, giving Kevin a grin. "With the newest Zelda game!" She climbed up from her spot on the floor to jump up and down at him. "And Animal Crossing! And I want the new Luigi Ghost Hunting game!"
"Calm down, kiddo," Rachel's dad said as he was pulling himself up from his chair. "I told you to write it all down for Santa so he'll know." He reached a hand out to help Rachel's mother from her chair, then the two of them ventured into the dining room.
Rachel was putting the last dish of food onto the table, and turned to everyone else with a smile. "Come on in and eat while it's hot! Kevin, are you going to carve?"
Alison Flynn smiled tightly at the suggestion that the fathers join the game. Kenneth Flynn had never bothered to teach or play with his son with regards to sports. Anything practical or technological - such as fixing a car engine or computer, sure. But football was considered a waste of time by him.
“Um...Kenneth probably won’t join in.” is all she said, smoothing down her apron. “But I take it your father enjoys football?”
Back in the living room, Kevin chuckled at the girl’s enthusiasm regarding presents. “Yeah, I think your dad’s right. Better write it down for Santa.” And the rest of them, of course. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been a good girl this year, right?” He winked. He led the way into the dining room, noticing his father had already beaten them to it. Rachel was there with his mother looking like something out of a Norman Rockwell cover for the Saturday Evening Post. It was adorable.
“Uh, right.” he said awkwardly. He wasn’t the best at carving the turkey. Usually his father did it, or at least the initial cut. He glanced over at him for permission; despite their differences, Kevin still had respect for the man.
Kenneth Flynn nodded and then seated himself before his wife could assist him.
“ ‘Kay. Cutting the turkey.” Kevin said under his breath as he took carving knife and fork in hand. He tried to remember which part he was supposed to start with as everyone sat down around him, eyes on the bird. “Um…” He glanced over at the ladies for help. His mother mouthed, “The legs.” Cutlery dug into the legs and Kevin severed them before starting at one end of the bird and carefully cutting slices as he went along. People started calling out for pieces almost immediately, clearly wanting dibs on parts and white and dark meat.