Chapter Text
Kurt Hummel reached into the cupboard for the stack of nice plates he rarely used, as he said: “And remember, my dad loves the Buckeyes, so don't get him talking about football because you'll probably start arguing, and that's the last thing I need right now...”
“Okay,” Leo muttered, folding the napkins carefully. “So no football talk with your dad. Your stepmother is really into late 80s, early 90s fashion and movies, and your stepbrother...”
“Actually, you know what? Finn might also get upset if you mention you are from Michigan, so don't mention football,” Kurt said again, for what felt like the million time. “But he loves music, you could maybe win him over talking about that?”
Leo took a deep breath and looked up from the napkins. “Am I what they had in mind?”
Kurt paused and looked at him. Leo was tall, taller than him even, and handsome, with soft strawberry blonde hair and kind brown eyes. His smile was expectant and a little shy, and there was something about him that was always so reassuring. He was dependable, Kurt decided. Steady. His father would like that.
“They're going to love you,” he muttered with a quick grin.
Leo squeezed his hand briefly before he opened the drawer to retrieve the cutlery.
Kurt leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment. This was the first time he was introducing someone to his family, and he couldn't ignore the bubbling of fear in the pit of his stomach. He wanted Leo to fit in perfectly. He wanted to feel like he finally had everything he could possibly want in life – he already had the successful career and the lovely house in Venice Beach. All he had missed, in the past few years, was the perfect relationship. It hadn't mattered at first, when he was still working from dawn to sunset to make Label a respectable magazine. But once things had calmed down, he had looked around and realized he had no one to come home to, to celebrate his achievements with, to go to sleep with every single night.
And he wanted that. He wanted that, so much.
Leo had been brought into Label for a period of time as a financial consultant. Isabelle, Kurt's partner in crime and fashion, had found him, recommended to her by a friend who had worked with him in his own business. And amongst spreadsheets and cups of coffee, Kurt had gotten to know him. He was nice, so nice, and it was difficult to find nice men in Los Angeles. Nice, gay, available men. So one night, instead of going home to watch mindless reality shows and drink wine alone, Kurt had asked him out for dinner.
It seemed like it was finally the end of too many years alone, too many years feeling like he wasn't enough, too many years feeling like no one truly valued him for who he was. Up until then, it had felt as if he was always reaching for something that he could barely graze with his fingers but not truly grasp.
From an early age, Kurt's life seemed to have been marred by failure, by always being second best, by never getting anything he truly wanted. He couldn't get the lead in the school musical, he couldn't get into his dream school, he couldn't walk down the hallway hand in hand with a boy he liked. Life had told him no for so long, that for a while Kurt thought it would never say yes.
Well, if there was one thing Kurt Hummel had enough of, it was ambition and perseverance.
He didn't get the lead in the school musical, but he learned that there were other ways to explore his passions, other than on a stage.
He didn't get into his dream college, but he went to New York anyway. That was the city he felt like he wanted to be in, there was no use wasting away in Lima, Ohio. He looked for a job as he looked for a new direction, and ended up at Vogue, where he met Isabelle Wright, who had hired him on the spot to be her assistant. But Isabelle was just as hungry for more and he was, so one evening, working late, and after too much coffee, they fantasized about leaving Vogue behind and starting something that was truly theirs. Label had been born on a piece of crumpled yellow paper in which they wrote down ideas, laughing at first as if it was game, getting more and more serious as excitement kicked in. It wasn't too long before they were quitting and moving together to Los Angeles, wanting a fresh start. It had all started with too many late nights putting the whole magazine together the two of them, until they could finally start hiring more and more people, until they could move out of the tiny office they had first rented to a larger one, and then a larger one, and now Label was the second biggest fashion and lifestyle magazine in the country.
He didn't get to walk down a high school hallway hand in hand with a boy he liked, but Kurt got to grow into himself, to learn what he liked, to experiment. To have a first boyfriend, and then a second boyfriend, and a few one night stands when all he needed was to scratch an itch. He tried to find the perfect person, but the man of his dreams was elusive, and Kurt was busy anyway, so what was the point?
And then he had met Leo, and felt like maybe he could stop looking. It was exhausting, and Kurt was ready to settle down...
“Earth to Kurt,” Leo said with a laugh. “Are you still here?”
Kurt blinked and looked up. He hadn't realized he had spaced out. “Yes. Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Don't you think it would be so much fun to use these coasters?” Leo asked, lifting the pack of holiday-themed coasters they had bought last week. “They'll look so festive on the table.”
Kurt found a smile for him, even though he had no idea why that was such a hard thing all of a sudden. “Sure. Sounds fun.”
The Christmas tree was sparkling away in a corner of the living room, every ornament exactly where it was supposed to be. Kurt had gotten up a little earlier that morning to put it together and make sure it was perfect. This was the first year his family was coming over to his home for the holidays, instead of him heading back to Ohio to see them, and he wanted everything to go well.
The fact that he had some pretty big news to give them wasn't really helping to keep him calm.
Kurt was just patting the couch cushions for the millionth time when the doorbell rang. He straightened up, taking a deep breath, just as Leo left the kitchen, drying his hands compulsively on his pants. Kurt didn't need to touch them to know they were clammy with nerves.
They exchanged a quick glance.
“Showtime,” Kurt muttered, and walked to the front door.
The first few minutes were a mess of introductions, of chastising his dad for carrying a heavy bag, of praising Carole's choice of dress, and letting his brother pull him into a big hug. It was a moment in which he was finally filled with warmth, as if he had been so, so cold the entire time he had been apart from his family, from his father, who looked around the house curiously, with a silent sort of pride.
It was so hard being apart, being on different time zones. No matter how hard Kurt tried, it was so difficult staying in touch regularly. Their entire lives seemed to run on completely opposite schedules.
But they were here now, and that was all that mattered.
Soon they were all sitting at the table, food laid out in front of them, Carole pouring mashed potatoes and grilled vegetables on to his and Finn's plates as she used to do when they were teenagers and still lived at home. Burt, his eyes so similar to Kurt's, was focused on Leo though. He leaned in a bit across the table, and Kurt felt Leo flinch slightly next to him.
His father was an intimidating man – but looks could be deceiving. Everyone who knew Burt Hummel knew his heart was made of gold, you just had to look past the gruffness of his voice and the fierceness and overprotectiveness he always showed for his family.
“So, Leo,” he said, and Leo flinched again, quite visibly. “Kurt tells me you have to leave after dinner. That's a pity.”
“Yes,” Leo replied, after flashing a look Kurt's way. “Unfortunately, I do. I have to be in Michigan for work on the 26th, and I wanted to get to see my family for Christmas, as well.”
“I'm joining him for New Year's,” Kurt explained as he reached for a bottle of wine to fill everyone's glasses. “Isabelle's in New York this week, and someone needs to be at the office until she returns...”
“You work too hard,” Burt grumbled.
Kurt rolled his eyes, used to his father's excessive concern. “Dad, I work a normal amount for someone who owns half a magazine. Plus, since I'm mostly writing articles and columns lately, I get to work from home a lot...”
“I loved your piece about recycled clothing from last week,” Carole chimed in with a smile. “So clever. You had me going through all my boxes with old clothes that we keep in the attic.”
Kurt tried not to show how terrifying that sounded to him – old clothes was a synonym for acid wash jeans in Carole's world. Lots of it. “Well, how about you send me some pictures of what you found and we can figure out what's good?”
“Oh, I'm sure all of it is good,” Carole grinned.
“Still, for research purposes,” Kurt insisted. “Please.”
She nodded, clearly happy to be able to help Kurt with his research. Kurt adored her, but her fashion sense was severely crippled. He was glad to be the crutch she leaned on to decide what to wear.
They talked about work, about Leo's financial consultant job often making him travel across the country to work at different companies that needed his services, and about how things were going in Ohio, where Burt owned a tire shop that was like a second home to Kurt. Finn was a teacher at their old high school, and Carole was a nurse at the local hospital. Everyone seemed to have spread their roots right in town, grown into their own, blossomed. But Kurt had always felt trapped in little old Lima, where he was too different. He had thought New York would be the place where he would be able to spread his roots, but that hadn't worked out either.
Los Angeles was a good place, too, he guessed. It wasn't what he had imagined – god, just the traffic every morning made him want to hit his head against the steering wheel repeatedly – but it was where he had found success. He was happy to be here.
He just didn't think his roots were growing too deep.
Kurt felt Leo squeeze his knee under the table, and shook himself out of his thoughts – what was it with him today? – to glance at him. Leo raised his eyebrows in question and Kurt nodded. Yes, it was time.
“Okay, so...” Kurt said, taking advantage of a momentary pause in the conversation. “I actually have some big news to share.”
Burt put his fork down, attention solely on his son. Carole tilted her head curiously. Finn continued to eat, but was obviously interested in what Kurt was about to say.
Kurt grinned and announced: “Leo and I are engaged.”
Carole was the very first one to react, letting out an excited shriek and bouncing off her seat to get to him. Kurt laughed as he stood up, immediately falling into her arms, letting her squeeze him until he could barely breathe. She let go of him to hug Leo, and Kurt looked at his father, who was standing up and going around the table to reach for him.
There was something unreadable in Burt Hummel's face, but he held his son firmly, patting his back, and said nothing, except for: “Congratulations, Kurt.”
“Thank you, dad,” Kurt whispered, and wondered what it was that he wasn't saying.
However, he had no time to ask any questions, because Leo began to sneeze almost violently, as Carole released him from her embrace at once.
“I'm so sorry,” Leo said between a sneeze and the next. His face reddened at once. Kurt hurried to pour him some water.
“Are you okay?” Carole asked, worried.
“I'm fine, fine...” Leo tried to reassure her. “I must be having a reaction to something...”
“Leo is allergic to everything,” Kurt explained, handing his fiancé the water and rubbing his back. “Nuts, strawberries...”
“Flowers,” Leo added, after one more sneeze.
“Flowers!” Kurt repeated, nodding. “Remember our first Valentine's Day? I got him a bouquet of roses and we ended up at the emergency room...”
“My head was twice its normal size...” Leo said. “I could have dropped dead...”
Carole and Burt were watching them like they were looking at a very confusing tennis match, going from one side of the court to the next. Finn was still sitting at the table, his eyes a little wide.
“Tuna, too,” Kurt continued. “And most citrus. We went out to a lovely little restaurant a few months ago and they put a bit of lemon zest on his risotto... again, emergency room.”
“Can't tell you how many of our dates have ended in the emergency room!” Leo laughed awkwardly.
Carole bit her lip. “It must be my fault. I splashed a bit of my homemade rose water on my neck right before we arrived...”
“Oh, yes, that's definitely it,” Leo muttered. “It's fine...”
“I'm so sorry...”
“It's fine, it's fine,” he tried to reassure her, but sneezed again, his whole body shaking with the force of it. “I feel so terrible sneezing non-stop at a time like this. This is a very important night for me...”
“Drink some more water,” Kurt suggested. “I can go get your pill...”
“No, no, please. Let's just all sit down and keep enjoying dinner,” Leo insisted, with a bit of a forced smile. Kurt knew how uncomfortable he felt when he had one of his allergy attacks.
Burt was scarily quiet, but Kurt decided to ignore that.
Finn cleared his throat. “So, uh, congratulations. Where's the ring?”
Kurt was grateful for his attempt to redirect the conversation. “We don't have one yet. We'll go get matching ones at some point. We've just been so busy...”
“And how will everyone know you guys are engaged?” Finn asked.
Kurt rolled his eyes. “We'll tell them.”
Carole immediately launched into wedding planning mode, asking Kurt questions about everything that had to do with their big day. Kurt shared some of his thoughts on the venue and the menu, but nothing was set in stone yet. They hadn't even begun to plan, hadn't even set a date. It would probably happen in the late spring, he thought, or early summer.
Right after dinner, Leo went to their room to finish packing his bag so Kurt could drive him to the airport later. Carole and Finn had gone out to the small backyard for a bit of fresh air, and Kurt could hear Finn talking about how weird it was that it was Christmas and there was no snow – something Kurt had had a hard time getting used to, as well, when he first moved to Los Angeles. He missed the white blanket of snow covering the streets, the opportunity for heavier coats and larger scarves...
“Need any help?”
Kurt looked over his shoulder just as he finished putting the plates in the sink and found his father standing at the kitchen entrance. He smiled. “I'm fine. I just want to start cleaning up so I don't have to when I come back from dropping Leo at the airport.”
Burt nodded and silently came to stand next to him. He watched his son for a few seconds, and Kurt tried not to squirm – there was something about how quiet Burt had been through most of dinner, that Kurt wasn't entirely comfortable with.
“So,” Burt finally said, and some of the knots in Kurt's back came undone. Just the fact that his father was about to talk to him about whatever he had surely been thinking about made him feel a bit better, like the uncertainty wasn't going to last long. “You're an engaged man. That's pretty big, huh?”
“It is,” Kurt smiled as he turned the water on and grabbed the sponge to start washing the dishes. His father automatically reached for a kitchen cloth to start drying, and Kurt suddenly felt as if he was pushed back in time – just another week night at home with his dad after school, catching up on each other's lives as they did their chores, as they kept the house afloat together because there was no one else but the two of them to do so. But their tiny little family had been enough. So much more than enough. Carole and Finn joining them had felt like they were being greedy, like family wasn't supposed to be this perfect.
“You never told me how you two met,” Burt commented. “Just that it was at work.”
“Oh, it was funny, actually,” Kurt said as he handed him a plate. “Silly, even. Isabelle had a bunch of resumés for financial consultants and we needed to pick one to come in and help us out. And I was so stressed, I didn't want to make a decision. I knew they all came highly recommended by Isabelle's friends and old co-workers, so I just reached into the pile and grabbed a resumé and told her to call that one. And it was Leo's,” Kurt shrugged. “So it's funny – you make a million little decisions every day that seem to mean absolutely nothing, and then one day you pick a resumé and it changes your life...”
Burt chuckled lightly under his breath. “Sounds like destiny.”
Kurt couldn't help the scoff. “Oh please, it was just coincidence. Destiny's just something we've invented because we can't stand the fact that everything that happens is accidental.”
“Really?” Burt murmured, clearly surprised. “Since when do you think that? You've always been a hopeful romantic. You've always believed in that stuff.”
“Sure, but I grew up. And the real world is different,” Kurt shrugged. It was fine, really. He was an adult. Those fantasies – fate and soulmates and all that – were just that, fantasies. He had outgrown them. He didn't believe in fairy tales anymore.
Burt went back to being absolutely silent, the only sound in the kitchen coming from the running water as Kurt washed and Burt dried, and the clicking of plates together as Burt piled them up on the counter to put them away later.
“There used to be a really popular diner in Lima. It closed a million years ago, but when I was young, it was the place where we all hung out, my buddies and I, and we would eat cheese burgers and flirt with the waitresses. I had just graduated high school, and I wasn't looking for anything serious – all I wanted was to focus on making a little money so I could start my own business. But then one day, I was at the diner and there was a new waitress, the daughter of a family who had just moved to town. I looked at her and I felt... you know when I had that heart attack when you were in high school? It felt like that, but instead of pain, it was the opposite. It was... wonderful.” Burt stopped and leaned on the counter so he could look right at Kurt. “I've probably told you this story a million times, but I don't care. On a whim, I asked her if I could show her around town after her shift. She said yes. So I waited for her and I've never been as scared again in my entire life like I was that day. It felt like I was right on the edge of something important. When she came out, she was wearing this light pink sweater. I'll never forget it. We started walking, and I showed her all the places in town that I thought were worth seeing. I must have talked non-stop, and I could tell my voice was shaking and yet I couldn't make myself shut up. I wanted her to find me interesting. I wanted her to see there was more to me than a boy who aspired to be a mechanic to make a living. And then she grabbed my hand. And I forgot about absolutely everything. I looked down at our hands as we walked, and I felt so calm, and I couldn't tell which fingers were mine and which were hers, we were holding on so tightly. And that's when I knew.”
Kurt had heard this story. Of course he had. He had heard it from his mom before she passed away, and from his dad a million times since then. But never like this – never in these same words, never with this amount of emotion on his father's voice.
“What?” He managed to mutter.
“You know,” Burt said, like it was obvious.
It felt like Kurt was missing something important. He didn't want to admit that he had no idea what Burt was talking about, but he still couldn't help asking again: “What?”
Burt looked right at him, his face unreadable, and then said, like it was the simplest answer: “Magic. It was magic.”
The word left Kurt on a weak exhale. “Magic.”
“It was right in that moment, the very day I met her, that I knew we would be together forever...” Burt shook his head sadly. “I didn't know then what was coming. I didn't know your mom's time would be so limited. But I'm glad that I was there as long as I could. I wish I had found her sooner so I could have had more time with her. But that moment? Kurt, that moment was the most amazing moment of my entire life. I guess you know exactly what I'm talking about. You must have felt it with Leo, as well...”
Kurt felt caught off guard, but he hurried to say: “Of course.”
Burt clasped his shoulder and squeezed. “I'm glad, then. That you get to have what your mom and I had.”
Kurt simply nodded, feeling a little dizzy.
It didn't really feel like Christmas.
The tree was up, full of ornaments and lights. The stockings were hanging on the chimney. There was a thick layer of snow outside and he was wearing his thickest socks because his toes got so cold they hurt sometimes. Earlier that day, the house had been filled with Christmas music and right before heading to bed, Jonah and his dad had watched The Grinch snuggling on the couch under a soft blanket. In the morning, they would go over to Uncle Cooper's and Aunt Evelyn's after opening the presents, and he would get to play with Jessica for the rest of the day.
But now, when he was supposed to be asleep, the house was so silent, every step on the hardwood floor seemed to creek throughout the hallway.
Jonah didn't bother checking his dad's room – he knew the bed would be empty, as it was nearly every single night. He made his way to the living room instead, and sure enough, he could see his dad out on the balcony, wearing a sweater that looked cozy, staring at the city across the East River, the outline of Manhattan always visible even in the darkest of nights.
His dad was leaning against the banister, shoulders down, looking like he was exhausted beyond words, and yet, instead of being warm and comfortable in bed, he was outside in the cold.
Jonah wished this was a first, but knew it wasn't. For over two years now, his father had had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning endlessly and slipping out of bed when he couldn't take it anymore. Sometimes Jonah would wake up in the middle of the night because he really, really needed to pee, only to see him sitting at the kitchen table, work spread all around him, or sitting on the couch, watching old movies or football games.
Jonah had actually Googled how long could a person go without sleeping, wondering if his father was going to just drop dead out of sheer exhaustion, and had found out a kid back in the sixties had set the world record at eleven days straight. He knew his dad nodded off every now and then, sometimes on the couch, sometimes in his own bed, but it wasn't nearly enough to be rested and well.
He was worried, he wasn't going to lie about it. His dad needed help, and Jonah had no idea where to get it. He considered talking to his Uncle Coop, but what could he do about it? He had already helped them as much as possible.
What his dad needed, Jonah decided, was to talk to a doctor. A professional.
It had been Jessica's suggestion. His cousin was always full of brilliant ideas like that. Whenever Jonah needed help working something out, he talked to her.
“Have you never heard of that radio show?” She had said as they walked down the hallway at school together a couple of days ago, heading to the cafeteria for lunch. “The one with the doctor who helps you out with all kinds of problems? Mom listens to it sometimes. It's on super late, when I'm supposed to be asleep. But I've heard it. I like it. Grown-ups have more issues than I ever thought they did.”
“They really do,” Jonah had agreed quietly, before he asked her how to get in contact with that doctor. His father needed her desperately.
Jonah tiptoed through the house until he reached the phone. He dialed the number he had carefully written in a piece of paper, and waited.
He needed this to work.
For once, the traffic in Los Angeles wasn't as bad as it usually was. Kurt drove away from the airport after dropping Leo off and turned to head back home.
The conversation he had had with his father in the kitchen was still echoing in his head, unsettling him even though he couldn't understand why. It was too late and he was too tired to allow himself to think too much about it, though, so he did his best to push it out of his mind and focus on the drive instead.
Luckily, as if she had known he needed the distraction, his phone buzzed with a text from Isabelle. He waited until he stopped at a red light to open it, and it said: Oh my god, you need to listen to this , and it included a link to a radio station website.
Glad to have something to keep him occupied as he headed home, Kurt clicked on the link and then connected it to the car's speakers to listen to it more comfortably. The show was from a radio station in New York, one he had never heard of, but then again... he had never been an avid radio listener.
“Welcome back to You and Your Emotions. I'm Dr. Marcia Fieldstone broadcasting from the greatest city in the world. Merry Christmas Eve, everybody. Tonight we're talking about dreams and wishes. What are your Christmas Eve wishes tonight? Maybe the best present you can give yourself is a call to me. The number is...”
“Isabelle, why do you make me listen to this garbage?” Kurt asked to his empty car. He didn't like the radio host's voice – there was something about it that made him feel like he couldn't trust her.
“Our very first caller tonight is reaching out from just across the river in Brooklyn,” Dr. Fieldstone said. “Tells us your name, please.”
“Hi,” a little voice said, and Kurt instantly realized it was a child speaking. “My name is Jonah...” there was a quick bleep that covered his next words.
“No last names, Jonah. Hello there. You know, you sound a little younger than our usual callers. It's a little late to be up, don't you think?” She said, and immediately added: “Too excited about Santa to sleep?”
“No, I know Santa isn't real. I caught my dad putting my presents under the tree a long time ago. He wasn't very subtle,” Jonah said, and Kurt couldn't help the smile that grew on his lips. He liked this kid – he was honest and funny without meaning to.
Dr. Fieldstone chuckled, before she asked: “What's your Christmas wish, Jonah?”
Jonah let out a very heavy sigh, too heavy for a kid. It made Kurt frown. “It's not for me. It's for my dad. I think he needs a new husband.”
Kurt glanced at his phone in surprise. That wasn't exactly what he had expected the kid to say.
“You don't like the one he has now?” Dr. Fieldstone wanted to know.
“He doesn't have one. That's the problem,” Jonah replied, and hesitated before he added: “My papa died.”
Kurt felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He remembered losing his mom at such an early age – probably close to this boy's – and it wasn't something he would wish on anyone. It was such an old ache that he didn't really think about his mom all that much anymore – he had lived without her for so long, after all. But thinking about her twice on the same night, for completely unrelated reasons?
Kurt suddenly missed her like he hadn't missed her since he was a little kid himself.
“I'm very sorry to hear that, Jonah,” Dr. Fieldstone said, a softness to her voice that hadn't been there before.
“I've been really sad. I miss him. But I think my dad's worse,” Jonah explained quietly.
“I take it you're worried about him,” she commented and Jonah let out an affirmative sound. “Have you talked to him about it?”
Kurt tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and pretended he wasn't hanging onto every word.
“No,” Jonah muttered and when prompted to elaborate, he said: “I think it's hard for him to talk about that stuff. It makes him sadder. I don't want him to be sadder.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Dr. Fieldstone offered.
Kurt glanced to his phone in outrage. “How dare you? You leave that poor, mourning father alone...”
“Are you crazy? He would ground me into the next decade!” Jonah exclaimed horrified. “Just tell me how to make him happy again!”
“I'm afraid it's not that easy, Jonah,” she said very calmly. “But if I talked to him directly, maybe I would be able to help. Is he home right now?”
“Yes, he's out on the balcony,” Jonah said, a slight hesitation in his words. “Are you sure you would be able to help?”
“I can try, if you put him on the phone...”
“Oh what a heartless bitch,” Kurt muttered angrily. “Just hang up the phone and go talk to your daddy, Jonah. She just wants him to get a bigger audience...”
“Okay,” Jonah finally agreed slowly. “But if I get grounded, I will never listen to your show again.”
There was a bit of a laughter in Dr. Fieldstone's voice as she said: “Fair enough.”
Kurt bit his lip. He was really upset with that horrible woman for using this child's pain for her own benefit, but he couldn't deny he was invested now...
“Dad!” Jonah's voice came a little louder, and Kurt couldn't hide his smile. “There's someone on the phone for you!”
There was a sound of a door sliding open, and then another voice that said: “The phone? At this time? What are you doing up?”
There was something so warm about that voice...
“His name is Blaine,” Jonah said back on the phone quietly.
“I can’t believe she’s doing this…” Kurt muttered, and felt a bit of guilt at still not wanting to turn the show off.
“Hello?” That warm voice said. Blaine. What a lovely name, Kurt thought. He shaped it in his mouth just to see what it would feel like.
Dr. Fieldstone’s tone was overly sweet but firm, like she was showing she was some sort of authority, like she wanted to show she had control on the situation. Kurt really, really didn’t like her: “Hello, Blaine. This is Dr. Marcia Fieldstone, on Network America.”
There was a confused pause on the line, and then Blaine said: “I’m probably not interested in whatever it is you’re selling.”
She laughed, but it was mostly theatrical. “I’m not selling anything, Blaine. Your son called and asked for advice on how to find you a new husband.”
Kurt could hear Blaine splutter on the other end, clearly taken by surprise. Poor guy, exposed like this. He couldn’t blame the kid for wanting to help his dad and not knowing how, but these people should have known better than to put such a sweet, boy on air without his father’s expressed authorization.
“What?” Blaine finally said. “Who is this, again?”
“Dr. Marcia Fieldstone,” she enunciated clearly, and she seemed upset that he didn’t know who she was. “Of Network America.”
“Jesus, are we on the air?” Blaine asked, incredulous. “Jonah, for god’s sake…”
The kid’s voice came very low on the speakers, like he was away from the phone, but it still squeezed Kurt’s heart: “Don’t be mad at me, dad…”
Kurt found himself wishing he could see what father and son were doing. He imagined Blaine sitting in a darkened living room, his son half-hiding from him behind a couch or the hallway, both of them looking at each other – one pleading to be left off the hook, one pleading to just go with it.
Dr. Fieldstone continued, her tone firm: “He feels that since your husband’s death, you’ve been very unhappy, so Jonah’s worried. Genuinely worried, Blaine.”
There was another pause, and Kurt wondered if the man was just going to hang up – he wouldn’t blame him if he did. Kurt would have probably already hung up, disgusted by this invasion of his privacy.
“I’m not mad at you,” Blaine said, so softly it felt like a caress. Kurt shivered. “Okay? I’m not mad at you, Jonah…”
“I think it’s hard for him to talk to you about this,” Dr. Fieldstone said. “Maybe we could talk and it would make him feel better.”
The hesitation coming from Blaine was so clear that even Kurt could feel it, all across the country.
“Please, dad,” Jonah murmured, and oh. How could his father resist him?
“Blaine, it’s his Christmas wish…” she said, the bitch.
“All right…” Blaine finally agreed, and Dr. Fieldstone immediately charged forward.
“Good,” she said, obviously pleased. “How long ago did your husband die?”
A very heavy sigh filled the emptiness of Kurt’s car. He couldn’t help glancing down at his phone at the sound of it.
“A little over two years,” Blaine replied.
“Have you had any relationships since?” Dr. Fieldstone asked.
“No.”
“And why not?” She pushed.
Blaine was so evidently uncomfortable as he said: “Look, Doctor, I don’t want to be rude, but…”
“And I don’t want to invade your privacy,” she said at once.
Kurt scoffed, indignant, saying “sure you do” at the same time that Blaine said those very same words. Kurt smiled.
“Okay, we had a hard time at first. But I think I’m not doing such a lousy job as a dad, and Jonah and I will get along fine again as soon as I break his radio.”
Kurt couldn’t hold back his laughter, and clearly Dr. Fieldstone couldn’t either – even despite the underlying sadness and discomfort that Blaine was showing, he was undeniably charming.
“I’m sure you’re a great dad, Blaine,” Dr. Fieldstone said. “You can tell a lot from a person’s voice, you know? But something must be missing, if Jonah feels like you’re still under a cloud…”
Jonah spoke up again, seeming a little anxious: “Tell her, dad. Tell her how you don’t sleep at night.”
“How do you even know that?” Blaine asked.
“I can totally hear you walking around the house sometimes. At first I thought it was a robber,” Jonah replied urgently. “Go ahead. Tell her, dad.”
Blaine sighed again. “Well, I don’t think I have to now, kiddo.”
Kiddo . Kurt couldn’t help the little smile that blossomed on his face. His dad had always called him kiddo, too. Still did, even though Kurt was now thirty four years old.
“Look, it’s Christmas,” Blaine said tiredly. “It’s a difficult time for a lot of people. We’ve had our share of heartbreak, and I’m sure we’re not the only ones who have lost someone and they still miss them. I think we will always miss him. And it’s nice to have a support system…”
“Could it be that you need someone just as much as Jonah does?” Dr. Fieldstone asked.
Kurt found himself replying, without thinking: “Yes,” and immediately covered his mouth with his hand, a little embarrassed. “I’m losing my fucking mind here.”
Blaine didn’t reply, maybe he didn’t want to admit he did, maybe he thought it was too soon.
Dr. Fieldstone filled the gap at once, exclaiming: “If you just tuned in, we’ve been talking to… well, we’ll just call him Sleepless in Brooklyn, and we’ll be right back after these announcements.”
Kurt continued to drive as the obnoxious jingle for a diaper brand filled the sudden silence. He felt… weird. He was still very much against what this woman was doing, exposing someone’s grief and personal life just like that, but he found himself wishing the announcements would end so he could listen to Blaine’s voice again.
Kurt had just turned into his street when the commercial break ended.
Dr. Fieldstone’s voice came back on the air. “We’re back with Sleepless in Brooklyn. Do you think there’s somebody out there you could love as much as your husband? Maybe even more?”
Blaine sighed once more. “It’s hard to imagine right now.”
Dr. Fieldstone let out a slow, humming sound, like she was taking in his words. “What are you going to do, Blaine?”
“I’m not sure,” Blaine admitted. “I thought I had my entire life figured out and then boom, he was gone. When I met him… it seemed so easy. We clicked, and I just knew.”
“What was it that made you know?” She asked.
“I don’t think I could really describe it,” Blaine muttered quietly.
“Why not?”
“This is a radio show. I don’t think it’s the right place…” Blaine grumbled. “But what the hell. It’s not one specific thing, you know? It’s more of a feeling.”
Kurt had just arrived at his house, but couldn’t seem to get out of the car. He sat there, in his parked car, in the dark of the night, fingers still gripping the steering wheel, and listened.
“We made sense. He made me laugh. He was kind. He was a great father. And… I don’t know, I just remember our first date, and how when I grabbed his hand as I walked him home, it all clicked. It was almost like…”
“Magic,” Kurt whispered, at the same time Blaine said it, in perfect unison.
He glanced down at the phone and realized his eyes were blurry with tears. He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him.
What did it mean? What did it all mean? First his father, and now this man, this absolute stranger...
It had been a long day. That was all. Just a long day.
“Well, it’s time to wrap up. Sleepless in Brooklyn, we hope you call us again soon and let us know how you’re doing. To everyone out there, have a lovely evening, and Merry Christmas.”
The show ended, and silence wrapped itself around Kurt like a blanket.
He sat there, completely unmoving, for a really, really long time.
Jonah had fallen asleep, head on his dad’s lap, about halfway through the phone call. It was late, and exhaustion had won him over. Midnight had struck a while ago – it was Christmas. Blaine sat in the dark and put the phone down on the cushion next to him. With his other hand, he brushed Jonah’s hair off his forehead.
Had things really been that bad for Jonah in the past couple of years? He had tried so hard to give him a loving home, a safe space to grow up in despite the heartache of losing a parent. But maybe he hadn’t been doing enough.
He couldn’t avoid his own heartache. It had only been two years – how long did it take for a cracked heart to patch itself back into one piece?
Do you think there’s somebody out there you could love as much as your husband?
Michael sure hadn’t been perfect. They had argued about big things and little things. He always left the toilet seat up. He put too much pepper in every single meal. He had been really bad at remembering birthdays and anniversaries. He had been jealous and difficult, but he also loved Blaine. He had loved Jonah, too, more than anything else. He had been a workaholic to the point that Blaine had to beg him to take a weekend off so they could spend time together as a family. He had been stubborn, always wanting to be right, and that irritated Blaine to no end.
But he had been a good husband, and a good dad. And Blaine had loved him.
It just felt weird thinking you could get it right twice .
He was so tired – two years of barely sleeping a handful of hours here and there every night were catching up to him. He felt like he had put everything on hold since the day Michael had died. Or even before then, when he had gotten sick. He worked on automatic, taking care of Jonah, going to work, coming home, cleaning, cooking, helping Jonah with his homework, drinking a beer with his brother on the weekends…
It was all the same, over and over again, and Blaine knew he was hiding behind the safety of a routine.
And now his son had seen right through his façade, had looked at Blaine and find him lacking – he was disappointing Jonah. He needed to do better.
Michael was gone, but they were alive, even if what they were doing right now couldn’t really be called living .
He leaned in to kiss his son’s forehead.
They deserved more out of life, and it was only up to Blaine to provide it for them.