“Blaine, I’ve done this a thousand times. I’m not going to run out of bread or set the place on fire or accidentally forget to smile at a customer.”

“Okay. Well I shouldn’t be more than hour.”

“You know, we don’t mind if you take all day off. If it goes well.”

“But what if you can’t reach something?”

Artie glared at him.

“I’ll get someone else to do it. I’m the master of manipulation.”

“What if there’s a rush?”

“What if you just kept stalling here and missed your date?”

“It’s not a date.”

“He specifically said he was asking you out. That’s a date, my friend. And you, Blaine, are stalling. Get out of here and I’m sure it’ll still be standing when you get back. If you get back. But like I said, if you’d rather spend the afternoon making out with your new boyfriend that’d be fine by me.”

Blaine still wasn’t sure if Artie’s enthusiasm was supportive or intrusive. Either way, he was blushing and getting extremely annoyed with the butterflies in his stomach.

“He’s not my- never mind. I’ll see you later.”

“Or not. Whatever,” Artie called after Blaine as he walked out. He straightened up his violet bowtie (part of the uniform. Blaine could have got rid of it years ago, but no) and wheeled himself to the counter. “Good afternoon, young lady, what delightful confectionery can I interest you in today?”

The elderly lady he was talking to let out a giggle.

Kurt was already in the coffee shop when Blaine got there. He gave a shy wave from his table and Blaine grinned too widely and hurried over. Kurt stood to greet him and they paused with space between them, all shy smiles and awkward hands not knowing what to do and no kids to distract them. They went for a hug, one-armed, a light squeeze at the end. They sat down and Blaine forgot to buy himself a drink until Kurt went up for his second. He wanted to slap himself for sitting there, drink-less, for almost twenty minutes, but Kurt laughed and touched his arm and his embarrassment was replaced by more nerves and a quickened pulse. Kurt paid for both of them (‘well I can’t just sit there flaunting my delicious drink in your face and not buy you one’) and they moved to a quiet corner instead of the middle of the store.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before,” Blaine glanced up at the ‘Lima Bean’ logo on the pillar behind Kurt. “The bakery’s, like, two blocks away.”

“Wait, that’s your place? You’re Freddie?”

“Yeah. Well, no, I’m Blaine. Freddie’s the guy who gave it to me.”

“Is he your dad?”

“Oh, no. My dad’s allergic to wheat.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head and laughing at himself for a second. “You probably didn’t need to know that.”

Kurt laughed.

“No, I’m fascinated. Tell me more, about allergies or the bakery or whatever.”

“Well, that’s pretty much it, allergy-wise. I mean, I’ve got a cousin who doesn’t eat strawberries, but I think she just hates them.”

“The store, then. How come he gave it to you?”

“Pity, maybe? I worked there when I was in high school, then I got into the Cordin Bleu school in Chicago.”

“Are you serious? Blaine, that’s incredible!”

“It was for the first year. That’s where I met Quinn. We were inseparable for months, while I was trying to… figure stuff out. Then everything happened, and we moved back here. Her parents didn’t want to know, so we lived with mine for a while until we found our own place. Freddie let me come back here full time, paying me more than he should have. I think his wife made him go easy on me.”

“I’m sure you worked hard.”

“I did. I still do. I owe it to the place.”

*

- 3 months earlier –

Blaine puts his arm around Celia as she looks around the store. It looks the same, smells the same, but he can see her heart breaking. It might as well be a prison cell without him. Her short frame shakes as she leans against Blaine. Her white curls are soft against his neck.

“I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been alone since I was in high school.”

“You’re not alone. I’m still here. Me, Quinn, this whole town adores you. You’ll never be alone.”

“Thank you, Blaine. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you today. Actually, I don’t know what we would’ve done without you these last few years.”

“I’m sure he would’ve coped somehow. He was tougher than you gave him credit for. And so are you. You can do this.”

“The thing is; I don’t want to. Not without him. You know, he was my best friend.”

“I know. I know you’re going to miss him, but you can’t close the place. It was his life’s work.”

“His. Not mine. You’ve put more hours into this store than I ever did.”

Blaine laughs.

“Only because I had mouths to feed.” She laughs too. She knows it’s not true. Blaine’s always loved it here, even when it was just a Saturday job. “And I guess working for you two wasn’t all bad.”

“We tried our best. Do you remember when you were, oh, it must have been… seventeen? The first time I let you and Andrew close up by yourselves?”

Blaine hums in nervous agreement.

“Sort of. It was so long ago.”

“I saw you.”

“Saw me… doing what?”

His voice has gone quiet. He knows what.

“I think you thought we’d already left. I’d just come back for my purse, and- I saw you kiss him.”

“Celia, I don’t-”

“Blaine. It’s okay.” She puts a cool hand on his cheek and looks up at him with wide, earnest eyes. “I understand.”

“You mean you-”

“I loved my husband. I’ll always love him. Like I said, he was my best friend. But…”

“I don’t- you always seemed so happy.”

She sniffs and tries to compose herself.

“I was. I have good friends, a nice life. I’m not unhappy. It was complicated.” Blaine nods. He knows better than anyone exactly how complicated it was. “There’s a reason I brought you here, Blaine.”

He swallows. His eyes are filling with more tears than hers. His hand shakes as it grips her shoulder.

“Please don’t tell her, please. I’ll do anything.”

She shushes him.

“Blaine, it’s okay. I wouldn’t do that to you. Freddie and I wanted you to have the store. You deserve it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We knew you’d look after it. I don’t want the responsibility, not at my age. As long as I can get free bread for life.” He laughs one short laugh. She takes both of his hands. “You’re a good man, Blaine. You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy.”

He blinks at her for a moment then bends slightly to hug her. It’s his turn to cry now. He sobs into the rough fabric of her black hat.

*

“And they never had any kids, so they left it to me.” Blaine couldn’t tell him everything. Kurt had already seen way too much of his emotional baggage. “Celia still adores the kids. She used to take care of them when we had to work.”

“She sounds sweet.”

“You have no idea.”

They got through an unhealthy amount of coffee. Blaine didn’t look at his watch once, hoping Artie was serious about letting him take the afternoon off. Maybe they weren’t ‘making out’, as his 35-year-old friend had put it, but Blaine would have been happy to keep listening to Kurt for hours. He got so animated when he talked about his work, as if every room was a mountain range. His eyes lit up when he tried to describe a certain colour or a sofa or a kitchen, but it was obviously kids’ rooms he loved most. He’d done nautical and dinosaur and Wild West, and Mai’s was clearly his favourite.

“And they wanted it all to be pink and princess but I managed to steer them towards something tougher, kind of a medieval thing with a dragon-”

“You painted a dragon in the room of a 4-year-old girl?”

“It shouldn’t matter that she’s a girl. And it was a cute dragon. I don’t know, it just bugged me that they were forcing this weird, in-need-of-rescuing mentality on her. I just ask the kids what they want, and it’s usually pretty different from what their parents say. I remember a little boy going really quiet when his dad told me he wanted a football theme, so I asked him to make me a coffee while I got the kid to help me take some measurements. I just talked to him for five minutes, and the room ended up being violet.”

“And the dad was okay with it?”

Kurt nodded proudly.

“I got him to think it was his idea. Something about being less obvious, showing confidence in masculinity, girls would like it more… I don’t know. But it made a worried twelve-year-old very happy.”

Just as Blaine was laughing, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“It sounds great,” he said, sliding it unlocked.

“I just think they want to be heard. Even if it’s on something as small as a paint colour. They want to feel like they matter.”

Blaine’s heart sank when he saw the school was calling him.

“Sorry, do you mind if I-?” Kurt shook his head. Blaine turned to listen to the voice on the line. “Speaking.” He paused, nodding, and he froze. “She what? Do you know why? Right, of course, I’m so sorry she- yes. Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Kitty?”

“Her principal. She got caught fighting with some girl at school. I have to-”

“God, of course, go. I hope she’s okay.”

“I can’t remember the last time she was okay. Kurt, I’m so sorry. This has been lovely.”

“It has. And you don’t have to apologise. Go bail your daughter out.”

Blaine smiled sadly, standing up then trying to move toward Kurt again to say goodbye properly, but he found himself completely flustered again. He considered a weird, awkward pat on the arm, but steeled himself and leaned in to kiss Kurt’s cheek. It was no more than Kurt had already done the week before, but it made him feel like screaming or throwing up or exploding or all three at once. He let out a sigh of relief when Kurt leaned into it and kissed him back, giving his elbow the slightest squeeze.

“Bye, Kurt. I’ll call you?”

“Definitely. And Blaine?”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t worry. You did fine.”

Blaine blushed and snorted, not sure whether to worry that Kurt was making fun of him or relieved that he felt comfortable enough to do it. He saw Kurt smiling at him, and it was so calm and genuine Blaine immediately forgot what he’d been so nervous about.

Then he went to school.

He’d never been called into the office before. Not even when he was at school. He felt so guilty walking in that he started to wonder if he was the one who’d punched a girl in the nose.

“Mr Anderson, please take a seat. I’m sorry we had to meet like this. Kitty’s been a model student until now, but you understand why I had to call you here.”

“Yes, absolutely,” he took a seat next to Kitty, who was staring at her lap, “I’m sorry it took so long.” He expected a quip from Kitty, but nothing came. “So… what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. She was asking for it.”

“Kitty refuses to tell me why she attacked her classmate, a fellow Cheerio no less. I was hoping you’d be able to get some sense out of her.”

Blaine turned to his daughter, who still wouldn’t look at him.

“Kitty? What happened?”

“She was pissing me off. Wouldn’t shut her mouth so I shut it for her.”

Her usual air of cockiness was gone. She didn’t sound angry, just sad. Blaine wanted to hug her and take her home and bake her cookies, but he knew the man at the desk was expecting some kind of discipline.

“Mr Figgins,” he reached for Kitty’s hand where it was dangling over the armrest of her seat, and she let him hold it for a moment before pulling away, “you know this isn’t Kitty. Our situation at home isn’t exactly ideal-”

“There are a lot of students from broken homes here, Mr Anderson,” Blaine winced at the term ‘broken’. He realised it was a word they’d all have to get used to. They weren’t a real family any more. They were fragments. “But it’s not an excuse for this kind of behaviour. I sympathise with your recent difficulties, but Kitty needs to learn to control herself.”

She slumped further down into her chair. Her hair was a little loose. Her uniform was rumpled. She didn’t look hurt, not physically, but she looked broken. Broken home, broken daughter. Blaine felt an ache in his chest.

“Would you mind if we dealt with this privately? Does she have to be in detention or anything?”

“Normally, yes, but as this is the first incident of this nature, I suppose I can let her off with a warning. I suggest you have a serious talk with your daughter, Mr Anderson.”

Blaine could understand why Kitty had felt like throwing a punch. If he was talked to like that every day he’d get angry too.

“Right. I’m sorry for taking up your time. Come on, Kitty, let’s go.” Kitty looked up for a second but her eyes dropped again before they reached his. She stood up and marched out ahead of him. He ignored Figgins and ran after her down the hall. “Kitty? Kitty!”

“Can we just go home? Please?”

“Kitty, we have to talk about this. Please tell me what happened.”

“He already told you. I punched that girl in the face because I’m a psycho. Now take me home. I’m going to be late.”

“Is that boy coming over?”

“He’s taking me out.”

“Isn’t he a little old for you, honey?”

“Don’t say ‘honey’. You’re not that gay. And I told you, I’m over seventeen-year-olds.”

“I’ve called you ‘honey’ since you were two days old. And if you like this guy, I just want to meet him.”

“Well, he doesn’t want to meet you.”

Blaine stopped in his tracks. Kitty, a few steps ahead, turned to face him.

“Are you really that ashamed of me?”

“I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Kitty-”

“I don’t want to be in this place anymore today. Can we please go home?”

They remained silent until they were almost back.

“I’m guessing you at least won?”

“What?”

“The fight. There’s not a scratch on you. I think losing a fight and getting in trouble for it must really suck, so I hope you won.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“Maybe.”

“Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

More silence.

“You weren’t fighting about him, were you?”

“Who?”

“That boy.”

“Oh, God.”

“You know, you can talk to me about it if you want to.”

“Please don’t do this. I’ll jump out of the car right now.”

“I’m not saying invite him for dinner or anything, but it wouldn’t hurt him to come in and say hi.”

“Stop.”

“At least tell me his name.”

“No.”

“Kitty, I’m allowed to worry.”

“Cute.”

“I mean, are you two-”

“Dad.”

“Are you sexually-”

“I’m going to grab the wheel and crash the car. I’ll take us both out. I don’t care.”

“I just think that if he doesn’t respect you enough to at least be your boyfriend-”

Kitty burst out laughing. It was the first time Blaine had heard her laugh like that since Quinn left. He smiled as they pulled into the driveway.

“Trust me, Dad, it’s not like that. He respects me a little too much, if you know what I mean.”

He turned the car off.

“Oh.”

“No, Dad, you wanted to talk about boys, let’s do it.”

“Well, I don’t want to pry.”

“See, I think he worries because he’s a few years older than me. Like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Okay.”

“And that’s definitely not the case.”

“Kitty.”

He almost started crying with relief. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d joked around like this. She definitely had her mother’s sense of humour. She seemed to be enjoying torturing him so much that he almost didn’t want to stop her. But he also really, really didn’t want to hear about the sex life of his baby girl.

“And I just don’t know how to show him how badly I want to-”

“Okay! I get it! You win!”

She smirked, walking through the door as he opened it.

“Thank you. Do we have any apple juice?”

“Kitty, wait. Even if I never meet this mystery guy, even if you’re… friends with benefits, or something way too modern for my old brain to understand… I just want to make sure you’re careful.”

She stopped rummaging in the fridge and looked at him.

“Careful?”

“You know what I mean. I trust your judgement, okay? I know you won’t do anything you’re not ready to do, but I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”

Her mischievous grin faded almost instantly.

“Trouble. Right.”

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. I have to give you the responsible choices talk. Honestly, I’ve never understood the casual thing, but what do I know?”

“Nothing.”

Her voice had hardened again. Blaine frowned.

“No- this is coming out all wrong. I just don’t want anything you do now to affect you for the rest of your life.”

“Fine. I’ll be super careful with my not-boyfriend, who won’t even let me ride his bike without, like, forty layers of protection, because God forbid I make some awful mistake and end up like you!”

She slammed the fridge shut and darted past Blaine and up the stairs. Before Blaine could even get halfway up he heard her door close with a thud and her music start blasting.

“Kitty!” He tried knocking on her door but the music was too loud. “Kitty, I just want you to be safe!”

The doorbell rang. He looked at the clock. Three thirty. Zach got a ride home with a friend on Wednesdays, and the mother was almost infuriatingly punctual. Blaine remembered he hadn’t called Artie to ask him to lock up.

“Hello?” a voice rang from the letterbox. “Sorry, Blaine, but we’re in kind of a hurry!”

Blaine ran down to let Zach in, smiling politely at the woman at the door glancing nervously at the huge amplifier that was Kitty’s room.

“My niece went through the same thing. They grow out of it.”

Blaine forced a laugh.

“Let’s hope so. Thanks, Julie.”

“No problem. Bye, Zach.”

“Bye, Julie. Sorry about that one.” Zach rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Julie’s nose crinkled and she grinned at Blaine. Blaine was grateful for Zach choosing that moment to be precious and distract one of the nosiest mothers he knew just when he needed him to. He closed the door and pulled his phone out, dialling the store.

“I knew it. What base did you get to?”

“Artie! I don’t have time for this. Just lock up for me, please?”

Blaine could hear him raising his eyebrows through the phone.

“Wow. Yes, mister boss man.”

“Sorry. It’s been a weird day.”

“Is that Kitty I hear?”

“Got it in one. I’ll see you Friday?”

“No problem. Good luck.”

“Dad, why does she have to play her music so loud? Can’t she hear it? Do you think she’s deaf?”

“I think she will be if she keeps this up. She’s doing it because she’s angry with me.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I watch TV?”

“Only half an hour, then it’s homework time.” Zach huffed but flopped onto the sofa, flicking a cartoon on. Blaine walked upstairs to knock on Kitty’s door again, but the music stopped and she shoved past him, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Kitty?”

“Fuck off.”

“Kitty!”

He grabbed her wrist and she spun around to face up to him, inches apart, her eyes wide and glistening and angry. She pulled away and he was scared enough to let her go.

“He’s waiting down the street. So you can’t drag him inside. I’ll be back late.”

“Kitty, please.”

He didn’t know what else to say. It obviously wasn’t enough. He stood at the top of the stairs, watching her leave. She left the door open again and he padded down and closed it, letting his head fall against it and taking deep breaths. He heard Zach laughing at whatever cartoon he was watching, and Blaine smiled, walking over and collapsing next to him, pulling him close.

“Did you have a good day, Dad?”

He didn’t know how to answer.

“Almost. How about we order pizza, then we’ll definitely have a good night?”

Zach punched the air.