Epilogue

In subsequent years, Kurt kept up with everyone in New York by way of letters from Rachel. With every missive from the past he had left behind, Blaine was reassured that he had done the right thing by staying in Paris with Kurt.

As he had predicted, Quinn gave birth to a baby girl that spring — whom she named Elizabeth. She had Quinn's fair hair and everyone said she had Blaine's amber eyes, even though Blaine knew they came from another man.

Two years later a letter from Rachel informed them that Quinn had married Sam Evans. Blaine assumed they had grown close as a result of Sam handling Blaine's estate. A year later, they had a son they named Blaine.

Kurt spent the afternoon comforting Blaine when that letter came. His tears flowed from a mix of joy and sorrow that left him inconsolable for the better part of a week. But eventually, he found happiness in his heart for two of his dearest friends. He was glad neither was alone, even if his guilt rose up any time a letter came from Rachel about little Blaine.

Together the Evanses were pioneers in the women's suffrage movement; Kurt got a letter from Quinn herself when the 19th Amendment finally passed in 1920, complete with a photo of her and Rachel proudly wearing their "Votes for Women" sashes. He and Blaine framed it and placed it over their mantle.

Rachel married Finn and eventually had two children by him. One was a gangly beanstalk of a boy whom they named Christopher after Finn's father, the other a freckly faced little girl they named Amelia.

Rachel had made a name for herself on stage, as she always wished she would, but eventually gave it up to raise her family. Years later, Kurt still kept clippings from all her shows, which she had sent him, of course.

Just after the turn of the century, Kurt's father was asked by Henry Ford to help him start a fledgling business near Detroit. Burt and Carole moved to Michigan in 1901. They died six months apart in 1927.

Blaine's grandfather died after falling down the stairs at Markland in 1924. Although he had no way of knowing, Blaine suspected Mary had a hand in it.

Kurt continued to design for the House of Worth well into his forties; his designs were in demand all over Europe, earning him accolades from the same level of society that had deemed him unworthy in New York.

Blaine's path was a little different. After being intrigued by the tale of the cinematographe on New Year's Eve, Blaine became enamored of the burgeoning film industry. In 1897, he acted in a short film by Alice Guy, head of production for the Gaumont Film Company. She was bringing the concept of narrative stories to motion pictures and Blaine was enraptured.

When the Great War broke out in 1914, Kurt and Blaine followed the fledgling American film industry to southern California, where many filmmakers had fled to escape the monopoly of the Edison Company in New York.

Changing his name to Dorian Beaumont—a half-joking suggestion of Kurt's that seemed right enough that it stuck—Blaine starred in a few silent films. When his third film became something of a boon at the box office, Kurt received a giddy letter from Rachel.

My dear Kurt,

You will not believe the film I just saw. Well, it's actually some silly picture with an overdramatic love story, but I think you'd agree it had the most handsome leading man. His name is Dorian Beaumont and he looks just like Blaine Anderson, God rest his soul. Can you believe it? You simply must see it!

Do you think you'll make it home for Christmas this year? Little Amelia is begging for a visit from her Uncle Kurt, and it's been ages since we've seen you. Christopher is so tall now; I think he'll be as tall as Finn.

Quinn sends her love, and little Beth too.

Maybe if you can't come to New York, we could come see you in California. I hear it's not nearly as rustic as it once was.

Please write soon. I miss you dearly.

Affectionately Yours,
Rachel

Kurt laid the letter on the table after he had finished reading it, glancing up to find Blaine with a devilish smirk on his face.

"Perhaps it's time you give up the acting career, darling," Kurt said.

"I've heard Miami is nice," Blaine said. "There's an oceanfront community that all the well-to-dos are talking about. Maybe we could make a go of it there."

Kurt sighed, but only half-heartedly. "How many times do I have to uproot my life for you?" he teased.

"Well, I did die for you," Blaine said, leaning across the table and kissing Kurt soundly.

"You kiss awfully well for a dead man."

"And you talk too much."

"Maybe you should kiss me again," Kurt challenged.

"Always," Blaine replied.