"It feels like I just saw you."

"It was called Thanksgiving," Kurt said, extending his hand in greeting, and instead getting pulled in for the full bear-hug treatment that was a standard Cooper Anderson hello.

Cooper had no qualms about ditching work for an afternoon, even on short notice - particularly when it came to catching up with his brother-in-law. They had formed a quick and easy friendship once they had met, despite their obvious differences: Kurt, the polished and sophisticated wine critic, and Cooper, his husbands older brother, who had discovered a measure of success in advertising despite his admittedly laissez faire approach to life and business.

"Why didnt you tell me you were coming to New York, huh? We could have planned something," Cooper said, keeping his arm thrown around Kurts shoulder.

"Ive heard about what happens when you make plans, Cooper," Kurt said, feeling instantly swept up in his brother-in-laws unmistakable joie de vivre. "And it was a last-minute trip. Business."

"I thought youd quit."

"They want me back."

"Ah haaaa," Cooper said, extending the last syllable and tsking under his breath. "I can already see where this is going. How bout you say we get out of this dungeon of a hotel and walk a bit? Its finally a day worth enjoying out there."

Cooper swept his arm toward the door in an over-the-top after you gesture, leaving Kurt shaking his head and grinning.

There were moments when Kurt couldnt help but get caught up in the force of nature that was Cooper Anderson. He and Blaine were so alike, yet so different. Like his younger brother, Cooper was classically handsome, with dark hair, blue eyes and a softly chiseled face lifted from the Golden Age of Hollywood, a modern-day Cary Grant.

Yet Blaine - so internal, so private - was often serious to the point of surliness. Blaines personality hovered in a rooms shadows, but Coopers perpetually sunny disposition was its light. More than that, he was like a one-man laser light show, illuminating a dinner table or a party with merry, if somewhat vacuous, glitz.

Blaine was anchored in a solitary life he had created for himself, while Cooper had drifted from party to party and girlfriend to girlfriend. And Cooper Anderson was the first to admit, it worked for him.          

Kurt found the brothers relationship surprising. Since first moving in with Blaine, Kurt had learned that they were much closer than he had first presumed. They spoke frequently, laughed openly, and clearly shared private, serious moments that Kurt did not yet feel fully privy to - even after nearly a year of marriage.

They crossed the street to the southern entrance to Central Park, taking in the first temperate day of December. They made small talk and watched the parade of dog walkers shuffle by, occasionally pausing while Cooper craned his head to get the best possible view of a Lycra-encased runner.

"Sunny days in the park. Nothing like em," he said with a wink.

"So, Im assuming if this was a purely social call, I would have heard about it earlier than last night," Cooper said, finally shifting gears. "Whats up?"

Kurt kept his eyes on the pavement, and his shoes, his hands tucked tightly into the pockets of his pea coat.

"I just thought, being here in town... on my own... would be a good time to, um, talk," Kurt said, fumbling for words.

"Were talking. Somethings on your mind. Spit it out."

"Theres a mixed metaphor in there somewhere," Kurt said, smiling to himself.

"Youre stalling," Cooper countered. "Are you two having problems? Is that it? Because everything seemed pretty good at Thanksgiving. A lot of the newlywed vibe - like maybe I should go to my room early because threes a crowd?"

"Oh my god," Kurt said.

Cooper just grinned, proud of himself for making Kurt grimace.

"I wouldnt say we have problems. I love him. I feel a connection with him that Ive never felt with anyone before. I know we got married... quickly..."

"Thats an understatement," Cooper said.

"He makes me feel loved, treasured. But somethings not quite right, and I cant figure it out. When I met him, I thought he was just sort of dark and brooding, and it was kind of, um, hot."

"TMI, Kurt..."

"But when I got to know him, I realized that wasnt it at all. Its almost like hes got this thread of sadness that runs through him. But he wont open up about it, and when we do have an argument, or a disagreement, or whatever, its almost impossible to get him to open up. Its like he doesnt trust me enough to let me in.

"And Cooper, its starting to drive me crazy."

Coopers demeanor shifted from breezy to serious like hed flipped a switch. "How bout we grab a coffee up at the rink and sit down for a bit?" he said.

The ice rink was unusually busy for a weekday, with tourists and a groups of elementary-school-aged children taking advantage of the sunny afternoon on the outdoor ice rink. The food concession was little more than a cart, but there were tables, and sunshine and a classic New York holiday tableaux to make up for it.

Cooper found a table in a patch of warm sunshine and settled in.

"Itll always be Wollman Rink to me," he said, watching the skaters. "Naming rights be damned."

He turned to Kurt, his look serious.

"Trust has always been a tough thing for Blaine," he said. "He set himself up for it, really. And then he sequestered himself away for so long that I think its just become a hard habit to break."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he didnt exactly choose the path of least resistance," Cooper said. Kurt squinted at him, puzzled. "The break from the family, Kurt."

"He doesnt talk about your parents much."

"Im not surprised."

Cooper sipped at coffee and distracted himself with the cityscape while he colored in some of the life stories that Blaine had left blank for Kurt.

There was the age difference that defined them to this day, but oddly seemed to have inverted over the years. Cooper lived his life with the apparent joy and responsibilities of a child, while Blaine saddled himself with the emotional baggage that is often carried by the eldest child, not the youngest.

There were the expectations - Blaine was nearly ten years Coopers junior, but had throughout most of his youth carried the weight of family tradition and success. He was the Golden Child, the straight-A student who succeeded at everything he undertook: math, science, music, art.

Cooper? Less so.

"I remember when he was in high school, and he got a B+ in some math class. You know, calculus or trig or one of those. He was inconsolable," Cooper said. "He gets home and locks himself in his room, doesnt come out until he was told to get downstairs for supper. Then, all through dinner, he gets the talk - what he needed to do to be better next time. You know what? I never even qualified for those classes, and I didnt hear about it, not once."

Kurt nodded, and listened, and absorbed the words.

"I managed a Gentlemans C," Cooper added. "Perfectly acceptable, unless youre expected to take over the family business. That C was my ticket to freedom, Kurt. But Blaine, thats another story."

It was in high school that Blaines once-reverential view of his parents began to shift and disintegrate, Cooper explained. He was class president, and had the grades, test scores and family legacy to pretty much name his Ivy League ticket.

"And then he came out," Kurt said.

"Well, yeah, he did. But no, thats not what it was about. They had a tough time with the news at first. Dad didnt understand, but they didnt fight him on it. The fallout wasnt about being gay.

"It was college," Cooper continued. "It was college, and the trust fund, and expectations and what Blaine did to chart his own course. It was about pulling a fast one. I love my brother, but lets be clear: they didnt throw him out. He walked out. He had his reasons, but it was his call. And it shaped everything he is today."

"I dont follow you."

"It was supposed to be Blaine."

"What?"

"I got written off early on. I didnt have the chops or ambition to inherit it all. I can throw a helluva party, and I can attract clients, but Im not the big picture guy."

"And Blaine was..." Kurt mumbled.

"And Blaine is, but only on his own terms. Blaine was one of those kids. He could do anything: math, science, languages, you name it. It came naturally to him. And he was being groomed to step in where my dad planned to leave off when he retired, but Blaine wanted nothing to do with it. He told them that he wanted to study music and then, boom."

Kurt was silenced, trying to put the bits and pieces of Blaines background into place, those pieces Blaine hadnt shared with him. And as Cooper talked, he drew a more complete picture of Blaine than Blaine himself had ever offered.

"Boom?" Kurt asked.

"The beginning of the end, Kurt. They wanted him to go to Harvard for business school, or maybe Yale. Music was out of the question if he wanted them to pay for college. So when he finally said he was accepting Cornell for chemistry, they figured it was a win because it was at least Ivy League, and science.

"But he became a winemaker."

"Mmhmm. He met the conditions of his trust fund and ran."

"So he did all that so he wouldnt have to work for your dad? Theres got to be more to it than that."

"Lets just say that things happened, and Blaine felt it validated everything he did. And he may be right. But if he told you he was cut off because he came out, well, no. If anything, over time, they seemed to think it was kind of - I dont know, fashionable? - to have a gay son."

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes.

"Look, Kurt, Blaine didnt want the life that had been planned for him. He saw things that he didnt like, and he wanted something simpler. He resented having his life dictated to him, that hed be cut off if he followed his dream - so he beat them at their own game."

Kurt stopped and thought back to those early conversations, when he and Blaine unexpectedly bonded as Kurt tried to learn more about him, and convince him to participate in Taste Magazines first major wine competition. Blaine had talked about his family, briefly, and mentioned his familys initial discomfort with news of his sexuality. Hed spoken of the broken ties, and accommodating the requirements of his trust so he could set up a new life in a new location, making a silky Syrah that tasted like poetry.

But he had never explicitly said that his family kicked him out, or cut him off. And Kurt had never questioned it.

"His instincts were right, as it turned out," Cooper added nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?"

"He didnt tell you?"

"It seems there are a lot of things he hasnt told me," Kurt said.

Cooper hesitated for a moment, watching skaters circle clockwise around the rink.

"Lets just say, you can build empires, but how you maintain them determines whether theyre built to last."

Kurt sighed.

"There are moments, Cooper, when youre almost as vexing as your brother."

"I just think Blaine needs to fill in the blanks, Kurt. And besides," he said, the megawatt smile returning, "I like to leave an air of mystery. Now, tell me again how this relates to your marriage?"

"I think Im just starting to figure that out, Coop."

Kurt didnt know whether to feel sympathetic or angry. Blaine had cut himself off from his family in order to give himself a chance at happiness, but he had also clearly already cut Kurt out of this part of his life, somehow not trusting him with the pieces of his background that defined him.

And he had continued to do that, even after they had married.

And as much as he knew he loved Blaine, he also was beginning to wonder whether this was the foundation for a relationship that was built to last.

****