Chapter 22

The day was perfect; just the way you expect Christmas day to be. Soft masses of snow already on the ground and fresh flakes swirling from white clouds above. All the houses that Blaine passed, first on the outskirts of Westerville, and then of Lima, were adorned with lights that were visible even though it was too early for them to be lit, and wreaths of holly and Christmas roses on the front doors. Some yards became homes to herds of tacky reindeer and even tackier Santas, waving at the passers-by.

Up until he left the house, Blaine had to make sure every ten minutes it was really Christmas day. A few of the houses along the lane were decorated and he could make it out from his windows. But inside the Andersons’ household, there was nothing to signify the day was any different than yesterday. Just another Friday after another Thursday. The house wasn’t filled with the smell of roasting turkey, no socks hung from the mantelpiece in the living room. The Andersons had given up on the tradition of handing their sons Christmas gifts once neither of them believed in Santa anymore.

The only Christmas greetings Blaine had received from his parents was a hastily scribbled Post-It left on the kitchen table saying Merry Christmas, sweetie. Love, Mom & Dad. He scoffed when he read it, immediately crushing it in his hand and throwing into the trash bin without a second’s thought.

Blaine kept on turning the heating up, constantly feeling a chill in his bones. He checked the temperature four times, growing more and more convinced the thermostat was broken.

From the moment he woke up and saw the date on his cell phone as he checked whether Kurt hadn’t texted him since last night, he couldn’t bear the thought it was still hours until he could show up at the Hummels’ doorstep without being rude. He left well in advance anyway, fed up with the cold silent house, and deciding that maybe he’d be able to avoid traffic.

Two small packages wrapped neatly in a snowflake-printed blue-and-silver paper sat on the passenger seat of the old Chevy. Blaine was beginning to wonder whether it had been a good idea to buy both of the Hummels ties; but his conclusion was the same as it had been when he had bought them: every guy in the world needs ties. Even a guy who normally dresses in flannel and baseball caps. And even someone as classy as Kurt could use sugarcane-printed silk neckwear.

And he couldn’t have possibly consulted Kurt in the matter.

Despite the snow still falling and the holiday traffic between Columbus and the rest of Western Ohio, Blaine still arrived a half hour early. He pulled in next to Kurt’s Navigator in the driveway and cut the engine, without removing the key from the ignition. He hesitated. He’d shown up too early to the Hummels’ before and was never turned away or criticized for it. But this was different. He felt guilty for disturbing Kurt and his dad’s first holiday since they began to get along. It should be a family dinner, not father, son and a third wheel.

After a moment’s fumbling in his pocket, Blaine managed to produce his phone. It took another couple of seconds for him to find Kurt in his call long and hit the call button.

‘Blaine! What’s up? Are you stuck in traffic?’ Kurt’s chipper voice sounded on the other end of the line after two beeps.

‘Um, no. Actually, I’m in your driveway.’ He stopped, biting his lip nervously.

‘Then come inside! You’re gonna get cold in that wreck you call a car.’

If the conversation was any different, Blaine would have rolled his eyes and say the car was vintage, and not a wreck, which he usually did when Kurt insulted his ride.

‘I’m not so sure if I should,’ he muttered into the receiver.

‘What?’ Kurt sighed. ‘You’re a little early, but we’re pretty much ready, so come on in and stop with this nonsense.’

‘No, Kurt, I mean, I think I should go home.’

This time it wasn’t Kurt’s voice that answered, but a series of rustles and clatter, and then Blaine caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision.

Kurt was hurrying down the porch steps, a coat thrown carelessly over his shoulders, his phone still clutched in his hand. His smart shoes weren’t fit for snow at all, but he pushed on towards Blaine’s car, until he reached the door on the driver’s side and jerked it open.

‘Inside. Now.’ He pointed at the small house.

‘But, Kurt, really…’

He wouldn’t let Blaine finish.

‘Now.’ His eyes hovered over the passenger seat for a second. ‘You brought presents?,’ he asked incredulously.

‘Yeah, it’s Christmas,’ Blaine mumbled in response. ‘Is it wrong?’

‘No, I just… Didn’t expect you to.’ Kurt shook his head slightly. ‘Inside. You don’t want your presents to go to waste now, do you?’

Blaine grabbed the boxes from the passenger seat with a sigh, closed the car and followed Kurt uncertainly into the house.

‘Oh, hi, Blaine,’ said Mr Hummel as he saw the boys walking in and shrugging their overcoats off. ‘I was starting to wonder why Kurt would run out like that.’ He offered Blaine his hand to shake.

‘Hi, Mr Hummel,’ Blaine mumbled, taking Burt’s hand.

As soon as they proceeded deeper into the house, Blaine’s tension lifted. The small living room was clattered, a tiny wobbly table he’d never seen before was stuffed in the opening behind the couch, and a tall Christmas tree, decorated exclusively in red and gold, stood in the corner by the window, it’s yellow lights twinkling. A whiff of deliciously smelling turkey roast wafted from the kitchen. Now Blaine didn’t really care if he was crossing a line by attending a Hummel holiday dinner. He couldn’t pass on a chance of true Christmas spirit, a wide smile wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

***

Blaine couldn’t recall the last time he’d eaten so much. His stomach felt like it was about to burst, and he was barely able to move, but it filled him with nothing but silent contentment.

Kurt had insisted to wait until they clean out their plates and not let the food grow cold to exchange their gifts, all of which he placed artistically under the tree before they sat down to eat, just to pick them up and distribute between the three of them an hour later.

‘It’s a tie!,’ Burt said, amused, opening the rectangular box to reveal a toned-down dark blue stripy tie. ‘How did you know Kurt just made me throw out all my ties, because they were – I quote – tragically pitiful, and Carole would never let me go out with her, if I wore any of them.’ He chuckled, but sent his son an affectionate smile.

‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m happy I followed my instinct,’ Blaine said, a grin not ceasing to stretch his features.

After Burt had unwrapped Kurt’s present – a woolen scarf and a collection of John Mellencamp’s greatest hits – Blaine was urged to do so with his own gift.

Something wobbled inside as Kurt handed him the box with a timid smile. Intrigued, Blaine ripped the ribbon off, not caring to untie it properly. When he lifted the lid, two objects came to view. The first one was a huge ceramic mug, which Blaine took out of the box and scanned its outside.

The Best Friend in the World said a multi-coloured caption that circled the mug.

‘Serious, Kurt?,’ he asked, pointing at the mug, as his eyes began to feel strangely moist.

‘Dead serious.’ Kurt grinned at him. ‘And that is just large enough for the amount of coffee you consume on a regular morning.’

Blaine chuckled, placing the mug carefully on the table and reaching back into the box. The other object was a simple silver photo frame, holding a picture that Kurt had forced Blaine to take a few days earlier. Their faces were squished close to each other, both smiling and looking straight into the camera that Kurt was holding in his outstretched hand.

‘You didn’t!,’ Blaine gasped.

‘Oh, yes, I did. You can replace the photo, once we take a better one, but I just… I thought maybe you’d like to have a picture of you with your best friend.’ Kurt’s cheeks began to colour light red.

Blaine got up – as quickly as he was able to, still stuffed with everything he’d eaten – and leaned down at Kurt’s chair to hug him.

‘It’s really great. Thank you.’ He backed out after a moment and returned to his seat still beaming. ‘You’re turn.’ He gestured to the two packages sitting in front of his friend.

First, Kurt reached for Blaine’s box, and Blaine held his breath in anticipation. The paper was ripped and the box opened.

‘Oh, it’s a tie, too!,’ Kurt said excitedly, and pulled the red-and-white long piece of fabric out of the wrappings. ‘This is so sweet!’

‘Because they’re sugarcanes. And it’s silk,’ Blaine added.

Kurt glanced at him appreciatively and took off the thin black tie he was wearing, just to begin tying the new one around his neck.

‘How do I look?,’ he asked the second he was done, presenting himself proudly to both his father and his friend.

‘Great, kiddo.’

‘Perfectly Christmassy.’

Without further delay, Kurt grabbed the last package from the table and tore the paper off, letting out a gasp as he saw the cover of The Sound of Music DVD. His eyes became slightly misty, as he looked up at his dad.

‘I just thought that, you know, that VHS is so used up, and who even watches VHS tapes anymore? So, you know, I thought you might like it,’ Burt explained a little bit awkwardly.

‘Thank you so much, Dad.’

And before he knew it, Kurt threw his arms around his neck in a hug. Burt patted his son on the back, still not quite used to their newly established closeness, but all that mattered was that both of them deep down knew they got their family back.

And as Blaine was leaving late that night, he felt a little as if he was a part of that family, too.

‘You drive carefully, kid,’ Burt told him, giving him a short, one-armed embrace in the hallway.

‘I will.’

Kurt walked him out to his car, and they stopped right next to the Chevy, frost biting at their noses, cheeks and ears.

‘Thanks again, Kurt,’ Blaine said.

‘No, thank you.’ Kurt leaned in to catch Blaine in a bear hug. ‘I haven’t had a better Christmas in a long time.’

‘Me neither.’

They broke out of their embrace and smiled at each other.

‘See you soon?,’ Blaine asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll text you. And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!’ Kurt began to walk backwards towards the porch.

‘I won’t! Bye!’

‘Bye!’

Kurt was still waving from the steps when Blaine’s car disappeared out of sight.