“I know I promised to come home to Lima with you, Squirt, but that plane ride reminded me all over again why I hate Thanksgiving. Between that baby screaming in front of us and that guy sneezing and coughing next to me … ugh. Never again. Let's just invite everybody to LA next year, it's easier to cook a four-course meal for ten than sit still that long.” The rolling carryon Cooper was pulling got caught in a grate and a woman slammed into him with an oversized duffel bag with no apology or even backwards look.

“Don't call me Squirt,” Blaine said absentmindedly, scanning the packed airport waiting room. “And we'll see … maybe by next year things will be … different.” His eyes lit up. “There he is!”

Sure enough, Kurt Hummel was standing on a bench, jumping up and down with his arms raised overhead and waving excitedly at them above the crowd. Cooper found Blaine's carry-on shoved into his arms, and watched his agile little brother bound ahead, darting this way and that through the mob of travelers, toward Kurt, who was elbowing his own way toward Blaine. They crashed into each other's outstretched arms, and Kurt lifted Blaine up off the ground, spinning him while holding him tightly.

Somehow balancing all their luggage, Cooper struggled toward the couple while holiday travelers hip and shoulder-checked him on all sides. Up ahead, Kurt set Blaine down and took his face between his hands, gazing at him hungrily and stroking the sides of his face, as if he was trying to memorize it by touch. As if he hadn't seen Blaine in a year. In fact it had been only a month since the last time Kurt had last stayed at the Anderbro Apartment. Blaine's face was lit up too, not too surprising, since Blaine hadn't said a sentence all the way to Ohio that didn't have the word ‘Kurt' in it somewhere.

From the corner of his eye, Cooper saw some of the bystanders to the happy reunion giving dirty looks or turning their children away hurriedly. He bit his lip, but fortunately Blaine and Kurt didn't notice. He hurried forward.

Reaching them, he nudged Blaine with his strangely heavy carry-on. “Here, take this. What's in this, anyway? It weighs about a ton.”

“I'm the master of efficient packing. That's enough outfits for a five-day weekend, and the ingredients for Berry's Famous Cranberry Sauce, of course! It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without it!” Blaine beamed.

“They do have stores here in Lima,” Kurt chuckled, drawing Blaine's arm through his. “I'd imagine they even have cranberries.”

“I didn't want to waste any time on line at the store. It's been too long since …” Blaine's eyes lingered on Kurt's lips.

Kurt blushed and ducked his head. “You make an excellent point. God, Blaine, you look … delicious. C'mon, let's get you back to the house and settled into my room … you're probably really tired, right? Ready to lie down for a while?” He turned Blaine toward the exit, and they set off quickly, eyes fixed on each other.

“Uh … hello, Kurt, Happy Thanksgiving to you too,” Cooper called. “Little help with these bags?” But they were lost in their own world. Distracted in a mid-walk kiss, they walked faces-first into a newspaper stand, knocking it to the ground and scattering the papers across the floor.

Cooper grinned, catching up to them as they bent to gather the mess back up. He draped the handle of Blaine's bag around his neck. “Next time watch where you're going, Squirt,” he teased, and Blaine swatted him playfully. “C'mon, time to get you two home before you knock yourselves unconscious. And I'm sitting up front … I don't trust you two to keep your hands off each other while Kurt's driving.”

X X X X

“Cooper, thanks for making that cranberry sauce and pasta salad for Blaine. I can't believe Kurt and Blaine haven't lifted a finger to help me this year, I usually could count on Kurt for that,” Carole complained. Her hair was damp and hanging limply in her face as she struggled to transfer an enormous turkey from the deep fryer onto a platter Rachel was holding. Finn was sitting at the counter, carefully folding cutlery into napkins, a laborious process with his new prosthetic arm.

“Well … I know Blaine was really tired out from that plane ride, and he was working late last night,” Cooper tried to cover for his brother. Having endured Kurt's frequent, lengthy visits to LA off and on for the last nine months since he and Blaine had gotten back together, he knew quite well that the first twelve hours of any reunion between those two was spent locked behind closed doors, emerging only for joint showers and hasty meals eaten straight out of the refrigerator in boxer shorts. He shuddered. “Yeah, jet lag, I guess.”

Carole quirked an eyebrow. “Right. Can you do me a favor? Go up and tell those two it's time for dinner?”

Cooper grimaced. “Uh - -” he looked at Finn, who widened his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not interrupting Kurt when he's - - well - - getting busy. He gets irritable enough if I talk while one of those Housewives shows is on - - if I tap on that door while he's - - you know - -”

“Enough. Just make a lot of noise on the way down the hall, Cooper. This is Thanksgiving, and dinner's ready, they can put in an appearance,” Burt said, coming in at the door. He picked up a green bean casserole and yelped, setting it down.

“Use the potholders, Burt!” Carole chided him, tossing a pair of mitts at him with a laugh. “Cooper, please, just let them know it's time for dinner.”

Nodding reluctantly, Cooper headed upstairs, clomping his feet on the stairs and calling, “Hey, Kurt ‘n' Squirt, it's time to get washed up for dinner, dudes.”

As he reached the door to Kurt's room, he heard an agonized, “Not now, Coop! And don't call me S - s -, oh , God, Kurt!!”

Cooper turned and fled back down the hall. As he reached the kitchen, Carole was mashing the potatoes while Rachel whisked the gravy, the kitchen as hot as the inside of the open oven where Finn was carefully sliding in a tray of dinner rolls.

“So are they coming?” Carole asked, scooping the potatoes into a bowl.

“Sounded like it,” Cooper muttered, avoiding Burt's gaze.

X X X X

Cooper felt a strange twinge in his heart when all of them were seated together around the Hummels' dining room table, and Burt got up and turned out the lights. The candles on the table shimmered, and he remembered this was the point in the proceedings where, instead of a grace like his father and stepmother had at the beginning of the Thankgsiving meal, the Hummels and the Berrys had always taken turns expressing what each was most thankful for that year.

Clanging on her glass with her fork, Rachel clamored to go first, as she had at every Thanksgiving dinner Cooper had shared with her since the first, when she was nine years old. At that first Thanksgiving, she had been thankful for her new brothers, and he remembered clutching Blaine's tiny hand under the table and missing their mother and father so desperately … and Burt, sympathetic after the loss of his wife … had let him skip his turn. It had gotten easier to come up with something in the years afterwards, but then, when Hiram and Leroy had died too … he closed his eyes as Burt told how thankful he was that they were all together and for the makeshift family they'd formed out of all their respective tragedies. Carole echoed this, grateful that Finn had returned from the war and that Rachel was now their daughter. Finn shyly stumbled out a little speech, and then Blaine formally stood, straightening his tie.

“I have a lot to be thankful for this year. I'm thankful that I have my sister back,” he said, pressing Rachel's shoulder, “and that now that you and Finn are married, that I'm officially part of the Hummel-Hudson family.”

“You always were, kiddo,” Burt said warmly. “Family is in the heart … it's who you choose to love. Not just who you're related to by blood or even marriage.”

“I know. But …” he cast a sweet, loving look at Kurt, who stood up and put his arm around Blaine. “But we are also thankful that more and more states are making it possible for us to choose to be more than just family in the heart. Now we can be husbands.”

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine's cheek. “And we will be, this time next year.” Grinning at Burt, who was lighting up and looking back and forth between the two young men. “We wanted to wait until we were all together to make the announcement, but … yes, I asked Blaine to marry me, and he made me the happiest man in the world when he said yes.” He pulled a ring from his pocket and Blaine pretended to be surprised, his hands flying to his mouth.

“Kurt! This is so sudden!”

Chuckling, Kurt pushed his shoulder and gave him a kiss.

“I asked him when we were in LA a month ago, but I didn't have a ring, I'm afraid. I wanted to have something unique, something special, for my unique, special fiance.” He took out a ring and slipped it on Blaine's finger.

The rest of the family cheered and clinked their silverware against their glasses as they kissed, before jumping up from the meal and clamoring around them with congratulations and well wishes.

Cooper stayed seated at the table, smiling and watching his family celebrate at first. Thinking how foolish he'd been, they all had, to stay away from each other whether out of anger or fear. Life was short, but love and family were the only things that gave it meaning. Blaine wasn't afraid to risk his heart in love; neither was Kurt, although they'd been hurt and suffered loss. And they were right, and they'd taught him by their example. Cooper wiped his eyes and stood up to move around the table, no teasing or joking this time, and pulled his brother and his future brother-in-law into his embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered.