CHAPTER 9

All four roommates had traveled out to Bushwick in early November to attend the celebration of Stephen's first birthday.  They had taken the opportunity to invite the fledgling Berry-Hudson family to Thanksgiving at their apartment.  With the confusion of being sick, neither of the men thought to cancel the gathering, and once Kurt was back on his feet he realized he was woefully behind in preparations.  He drafted Blaine, Brittany and Santana, sending them on errands to buy everything he didn't feel he had to personally select himself.  Things were complicated by multiple factors.  The aftermath of the flu continued to make him tire easily; he had to make not one, but two complete Thanksgiving dinners, one of which had to be traditional, the other vegan; none of his roommates knew how to cook; and the apartment had to be baby-proofed to protect Stephen, who was in full-blown explorer mode, not to mention Blaine's instruments, which needed to be protected from Stephen.

Once all the purchases were made, Kurt began assigning tasks.  He attempted to have Brittany baby-proof, but it quickly became apparent that she had no idea what might be hazardous to a baby, nor did she know what a baby might be able to destroy.  He reassigned the task to Santana, and pulled Brittany into the kitchen with he and Blaine, where to his surprise she showed amazing dexterity and talent with a knife.  Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, as he had quickly found that while Blaine could chop things, he apparently could not do so uniformly, and finding things chopped in random irregular ways in the prep bowls had been driving him up a wall all day.  They finally found a rhythm, with Kurt assigning tasks that needed only minimal supervision to the other three.  Since they had only one small oven, more things had to be done in advance than he wanted, but they would make due.  Finally, the turkey was resting on the counter and the last dishes that had been prepared earlier went into the oven to reheat.  Kurt spread a tablecloth over both the small dining table and the borrowed card table that was pushed against it to provide enough seating.  Blaine and Santana set the table, while Kurt brought in food.  Everything was ready.

Brittany answered to door to let Finn, Rachel, and Stephen into the apartment.  As usual, Rachel paid little attention to her child, instead asking in detail about the food to determine which dishes she could eat and which she could not.  Finn had done some reading, and was worried about Stephen getting enough protein, so Rachel had grudgingly agreed to let him eat animal products until he was old enough to understand and make his own decision.  To her annoyance, the child loved meat, dairy products, and eggs, and while he liked fruit, any vegetables were likely to be rejected.  Because the feast was ready when they got there, they sat down immediately, each giving thanks.  Blaine's eyes met Kurt's, which were engaged in an exaggerated eye-roll, when Rachel gave thanks not for her beautiful child or loving husband, but for the fact that the actress who played Fanny Brice had fallen ill and been out for two weeks, allowing Rachel to step in for her.  Kurt and Blaine gave thanks for each other, for their friends, and for Kurt's nephew.  Finn mentioned Rachel and Stephen.  Brittany and Santana largely echoed Kurt and Blaine.  By the time they were done and ready to eat, Stephen was restless and wanted out of his father's lap.

“Give me my nephew.  You can't hog him just because you're his dad,” Kurt said, taking the baby.  While glad he no longer lived with him, Kurt had to admit he'd missed the child.  Stephen amused himself by playing with the buttons on Kurt's elaborate shirt.  Kurt cut tiny bites of turkey and placed them, along with the more finger-food friendly sides, such as green beans, on a small plastic plate.  Turning the child toward the table, he said softly, “Look, Stephen, turkey!  Yummy!”  He then put a bite in his own mouth.  Watching his uncle with wide eyes, the baby followed suit.  Kurt fed him mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes from his own plate, alternating bites.  “A bite for Stephen, and a bite for Uncle Kurt,” he said in a sing-song tone.  Anything Kurt ate, Stephen had to have.  Watching the scene, Blaine had a vision of the future.  This was what he wanted:  to be sitting at the table with Kurt, lovingly caring for their own children.

Conversation flew around the table, covering Christmas plans and the upcoming wedding, school and work, but neither Kurt nor Blaine paid attention.  They were too focused on each other, and on the amazingly similar visions each had of the future, but which they kept to themselves during dinner.

After the leftovers were packed away, the guests had left, and all the dishes were done, the exhausted roommates finally made their way to bed.  They should have fallen asleep immediately, but both Kurt and Blaine had too much on their minds to sleep.  Reaching out to brush Kurt's cheek, Blaine began hesitantly, “Baby, have you ever thought about . . . later?  I mean, I know we kind of talked about this last year, but is it still what you want, now that you've put up with me for the last six months full time?”

Kurt's heart was in his throat.  What if Blaine had changed his mind?  Hesitantly, he said, “Um, yeah.  It's still what I want.  What about you?”

Blaine smiled.  “Yeah,” he answered.  “I kept looking at you and Stephen, and wishing he was ours.  You're going to be so great when we have kids.”

Kurt grinned, “And you're going to be the best dad ever, with the possible exception of my dad, but he's a pretty hard act to follow.”

Kurt rolled away until his back was to Blaine, then snuggled against him, safe in Blaine's arms.  They talked into the night about the future, cuddled together, before finally drifting off to sleep.  They didn't make any definite decisions or plans, but both felt that somehow, things were more settled.

* * *

They decided to spend Christmas in New York.  The weeks without work when they had the flu had left them both short on funds.  Blaine's parents would have gladly paid for them to go back to Ohio, but Kurt didn't want to take anything more from them than he had to; he felt the difference in their financial circumstances acutely.  And if he was honest, Blaine really didn't want to take the money either; sooner or later he needed to stand on his own two feet, and he preferred that it be sooner.  Staying in New York meant both that they were saving the cost of the trip and could work more to make up the deficit.

Neither wanted to forgo a Christmas tree, so they located a small tree and dragged it up to their apartment.  Kurt had made decorations, and brought the decorations that belonged to him from the old apartment.  The homemade ones, not surprisingly given who had made them, looked elegant and sophisticated, while the older ones seemed comforting and homey, reminding them both of Christmases past.  The only problem came when they realized the only place to put the tree was in the corner which had become home to Blaine's cello.  Unfortunately, until the girls moved, there was no other good place to put the cello.  Everywhere they tried, it was in the way.  Eventually they moved it to the bedroom, where they basically had to dance with it every time they got out of bed or tried to get their clothes, leading Kurt to exclaim, “Geez, do you have to play one this big?”

Blaine laughed.  “Yeah, I do.  It's a full size cello.  You know who plays smaller ones?  Girls under five feet tall, or not much over, and kids.  Is that who you want sharing your bed?”

Kurt had to admit it wasn't, and quietly continued his cello dance for the duration of the holidays.

To save money, they whittled their Christmas gift lists, leaving off more casual acquaintances.  For most of the others, gifts were hand-made accessories, which Blaine was able to help with after only a little coaching, special songs recorded just for the recipient, or homemade baked goods.  They promised not to give each other gifts, but as they looked into each other's eyes, they realized neither of them would keep the promise. 

Christmas Eve was quiet.  Finn and Rachel had taken Stephen back to Ohio for Christmas, and the girls were in Ohio as well, to not only celebrate Christmas, but facilitate wedding planning.  Kurt made hot mulled apple cider, and he and Blaine snuggled together quietly, sipping and snacking on the “imperfect” cookies that Kurt had declared couldn't be given away because they were not up to his standards.  Kurt was dreaming about what Christmases would be like in the future when Blaine announced, “I think it's time for presents now.”

Kurt looked at his boyfriend's sparkling eyes and laughed.  “I'm not sure we need to ever have kids because you are one.”  Seeing the worry enter Blaine's expression, he hurriedly said, “Just kidding.  We will definitely have children, even if you still are one.”

“Good,” Blaine breathed, relieved that Kurt had only been teasing him.  “This is for you,” he said, taking one of the two small boxes from under the tree. 

“Get yours too, and we'll open them together,” Kurt instructed.  Blaine complied, and they counted to three together before opening the boxes.  Blaine's contained an impossibly soft red cashmere scarf.  Kurt's held warm black shearling-lined leather gloves.

“You shouldn't have,” they said together, laughing at themselves afterward.

“Vogue.com.  Sometimes designers give us stuff, or we can get things at a discount.  It really didn't cost me that much,” Kurt promised.

“Okay.  I just really wanted you to be warm tomorrow,” Blaine said, skirting the issue of cost.  The gloves had been expensive, and he had ignored all the discussions they'd had about limits.  He was pretty sure the scarf had cost more than Kurt wanted him to think it did, but really, cost was irrelevant.  He had something special planned for their first Christmas alone, and he didn't want it spoiled because Kurt was too cold and needed to go inside early.

“Other than Christmas, what's tomorrow?” Kurt asked.

“I'm not telling, but we have plans,” Blaine told him mysteriously.

They went to bed that night with Kurt excited about the surprise awaiting him the next day, interrogating Blaine and using every trick he knew to break down Blaine's resolve.  That resulted in both of them having a very good evening and falling asleep in one another's arms, Blaine's secret still intact.

Kurt woke up early and woke Blaine.  “Where are we going?  What are we doing?”  He demanded.

“Now who's the child?”  Blaine asked before mumbling, “Go back to sleep.  I am.  We aren't going anywhere until later.”  Kurt glared, but it was wasted on Blaine, who was already snoring softly again.

Late that morning, Blaine finally awoke and went to the living room in his pajamas to find a fully dressed Kurt, sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and looking at the Christmas tree.  “Mmmm.  Coffee.  Maybe that's what woke me up,” he said.

“I don't think so,” Kurt answered.  “I'm on my third cup.”  Blaine cocked an eyebrow at him before moving to the kitchen to pour his own coffee.

He snuggled into Kurt, saying, “Let me just finish this, then I'll go get ready.”  It sounded like a good plan, but Kurt was jittery, whether from nerves about the surprise or the coffee neither could say for sure.  He finally sent Kurt to change, telling him, “We'll be outside and it's going to be really cold.  Dress very warmly.  But casual.”  That should take him a while, he thought.  After finishing his coffee, he took a shower and dressed in jeans, a turtleneck shirt, and a heavy fisherman's sweater.  He pulled on boots and sat on the bed, watching Kurt mull over possible choices.  He finally said, “This is appropriate,” gesturing to his own clothes.  Kurt ultimately settled on a dressier version of what Blaine was wearing and announced that he was ready.

Next to the door, they donned coats, scarves and gloves, then made their way outside.  Blaine briefly wondered if it was possible to die of heat stroke during a relatively short subway ride, but soon enough it was over and they emerged onto the street again.  He refused to tell Kurt where they were going, instead just taking his hand and tugging him along the sidewalk, which was almost deserted at noon on Christmas.  Kurt gasped and laughed, bouncing up and down and clapping delightedly, once he saw the ice rink.

“Last year we missed our duet and our ice skating.  I didn't want to miss them again,” Blaine said.  Kurt threw his arms around him and kissed him.  They put on their rented skates, and joined the other skaters on the ice.  It wasn't crowded, just a few kids, probably testing new skates that had recently been under the tree.  As they stepped out onto the ice, Blaine nodded.  The next thing Kurt knew, a line of people holding bells appeared at the edge of the rink, just off the ice, and began ringing.  Blaine began singing The Carol of the Bells.[1]  Kurt laughed, and, skating fast to catch up to Blaine, who'd skated away while Kurt stared at the ringers, joined the song.  After the song, they just skated, Kurt practicing his jumps, which were rusty but mostly still doable if not pretty, and using his longer stride to skate away, making Blaine race to catch up to him.  After an hour and a half, Kurt was starting to get chilled despite his layers and the exertion, and Blaine was ready for a break.

Blaine led them to the concession stand, where they purchased hot chocolate and cookies.  Kurt found a table near one of the heaters placed around the concession area.  They took their gloves off and warmed their hands on the cups and teased each other for a few moments before growing quiet.  Blaine reached out and placed his hand over Kurt's free hand, wrapping it in his own.  After a moment's hesitation, he said, “Kurt, can I ask you something?  I've wondered about it, ever since we got to know each other more than four years ago, but I've never had the courage to ask you.  And really, it's none of my business, so feel free to say no or just not answer.”

Kurt was baffled.  Blaine knew everything about him.  He couldn't imagine what Blaine could have been curious about for that long without just coming out and asking at some point.  “Sure, Blaine.  We don't have any secrets, remember?  Nothing to hide from each other.”

Blaine wasn't meeting his eyes, instead looking at their intertwined hands.  Taking a breath, he asked, “Is Elizabeth really your middle name?”

Kurt laughed.  “That's it?  The big question you've been wanting to ask for four years?”  Blaine nodded sheepishly.  “Okay, here goes.  No, it's not.  My real middle name is Ethan.  I always loved having the same initials as my mom, her name was Kathryn Elizabeth, and when she died when I was eight, I started telling people my name was Kurt Elizabeth Hummel and signing things that way.  I guess it was kind of a way for me to keep her with me all the time.  My dad asked the therapist I saw after her death about it, and she said that if it made me feel better to let me keep doing it.  I think she figured I'd do it for a few weeks and then stop, but I just never did.  I don't know why.  What made you bring this up now?”

“Well,” Blaine began slowly, raising his eyes to Kurt's, “I think we should have it legally changed.  Either that, or we should put Kurt Ethan Hummel on the marriage license.”

Kurt's mouth dropped open.  “Are you, um, uh . . .”  He trailed off.

“Asking you to marry me?  Yes.”  Blaine nodded.  “And I'm kind of hoping it goes better than the last time.  So, Kurt Hummel, will you marry me?”

Blinking back tears and willing them not to fall, Kurt nodded.  He couldn't talk.

“I'd like to hear your answer, please,” Blaine said, quietly.

“Yes,” Kurt whispered.  “Oh God, yes.”

“Good,” Blaine replied, pulling a small box out of his pocket.  “This is new, it's not the one from last time.  There was some serious bad karma associated with that one, so I got rid of it.”  As he opened the box to display a ring which consisted of two narrow white gold bands joined by a series of triangular white gold knots which lay side by side, alternating pointing up and down, he continued, “This ring is made up of trinity knots, which symbolize good things in threes.  And with it I promise to always love, honor, and cherish you.  Or maybe love, honor and protect.  I haven't decided yet; it may depend on what you seem to need most at any given moment.”  Kurt laughed, the tears slipping down his face, as Blaine slipped the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand.

Kurt stared at the ring until he felt, rather than saw, that Blaine had gotten up.  He held out his hands to Kurt, saying, “Come on.  I'd like to skate a bit more with my fiancée before we go to dinner.”  Kurt had almost forgotten they had dinner reservations.  He'd always eaten Christmas dinner at home, even the year before last when he had stayed in New York.  But Blaine had persuaded him to let him make reservations, just for this year, although he'd had no idea at the time why Blaine wanted so badly to eat out.  Now he knew that it was to celebrate, and that Blaine had planned this for some time.

Kurt was careful to stay to Blaine's left once they stepped onto the ice, holding Blaine's left hand with his right, so he could continue to stare at the ring.  Blaine laughed.  “Kurt, Baby, it's not going anywhere, and neither am I.  Now put your gloves on before you freeze.”  Blaine's gloves were already on, and Kurt had no idea when that had happened.  He continued to stare at his left hand, even encased in the glove, as they skated, trusting Blaine to guide him and not let him run into anyone.

Blaine finally gave up on pulling Kurt's attention back to the skating and they splurged on a cab to take them to a Greenwich Village restaurant featuring Christmas dinner and live jazz.  They listened to the music, talking between sets.  Kurt was already bubbling over with wedding plans.  Blaine listened to them and laughed indulgently.  Over dessert, he grew more serious.  “Kurt, there's something we need to talk about.  Before the wedding planning gets too far.”

Kurt was pretty sure he didn't like the sound of that, but nodded and said, “Okay.”

Blaine sighed, then began.  “You know I've always been a bit of a, well, a disappointment to my parents.  Especially my mother.”

Kurt was bewildered.  As far as he knew, Blaine had a pretty good relationship with his parents, and they were very supportive.  “Well, I know it was hard for your dad to accept it when you came out, but I thought he was okay with it now, and I didn't know your mom had ever had a problem with it.”

Blaine shifted in his seat.  “It's not that.  They're both okay with that now.  And this predates me coming out, it's from long before I realized I was gay, before I even knew what that meant.

“Okay.  I'm not sure what you're getting at,” Kurt told him, still mystified.

“It was easy for Cooper.  He's the oldest one, so he could be anything, be anyone.  What he is, was, decides to be, defines what I'm supposed to be.  He's the actor, so I need to take business classes, even though I know in my heart I'm an artist, I need to be creative, to write, sing, act.  He barely graduated from high school, and my dad had to pull in favors to get him into college, so I had to be a straight A AP student,” Blaine said.

“That part I understand,” Kurt interrupted.

“Let me finish,” Blaine said.  Kurt motioned for him to continue.  “Cooper was, I guess still is in some ways, a boy.”  Kurt nodded.  Blaine was stating the obvious.  Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Which means I was supposed to be a girl.”

“Come again?”  Kurt said.

“My parents always planned to have two kids, a boy and a girl.  They didn't care which was first.  So when Cooper was a boy, that meant I was supposed to be a girl.  But I wasn't.  I'm not.”  Blaine explained.

“Thank God.  And I don't mean to point out the obvious, but you had no control over that; you didn't choose it any more than you chose to be gay.  As I understand the biology, if your mom has an issue with that one, she needs to take it up with your father,” Kurt told him.

“I know,” Blaine sighed.  “But it means my mom never got to do all the stuff moms do with daughters.  And some of that she's okay with, but, well, I've heard her talk to friends, the ones who have daughters Coop's age, some of the daughters are married, and they get so into the wedding planning, and I heard her say once that she'd never get to do that.  What I'm saying is she might want to be involved.  You can say no, and you don't have to do the things she suggests, or even talk to her about it, but it would mean a lot to her if she feels like she's a part of it, more than a groom's mom usually is.”

Kurt thought for a moment.  He was not about to alienate his future mother-in-law if he could help it, but he had strong feelings about planning his own wedding.  He was glad Blaine seemed happy to just go along with his plans, but this could definitely throw a wrench into things.  Slowly, he began to speak.  “I can talk to her about things, but if we disagree, I have the final say.  It is our wedding; she got to plan hers.”

“Deal,” Blaine said, smiling.  “But since it is our wedding, there's one thing I do want to plan.”

“And that is?”  Kurt asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“The song we dance our first dance to,” Blaine answered.

“Okay, but only because I trust you.  You already know what it is, don't you?”  Kurt replied.  Blaine's shining eyes were the answer.  “What is it?”

“You'll find out at the reception,” Blaine answered.  Kurt rolled his eyes.  Blaine and his surprises, although he had to admit most of them turned out pretty well. 

They discussed when to get married.  Kurt had serious misgivings about getting married while still in college, but Blaine had another two and a half years to go, if he managed to graduate in four years.  Blaine wanted to get married as soon as possible.  They compromised, agreeing to the day before New Year's Eve in two years.  Kurt would be out of school by then, and Blaine would at least be close to done.  They chose that date because it was likely that Kurt, as well as family and friends who were working, would be able to take some time off, while Blaine and their friends in school would be on winter break.  Blaine was still not happy about waiting so long, but Kurt argued it would take that long to make the arrangements, and he finally acquiesced.

They listened to the music a little while more before going home.  They decided to take the subway, both for financial reasons and because they felt like taking a walk, and the short distance between the subway station and the apartment sounded like just the thing.  As they walked quietly, Kurt said, “Blaine?”

“Hmm?”

“When we have kids, if we have a girl, can her middle name be Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, Baby, I think that's a good idea,” Blaine smiled, squeezing Kurt's hand.

They got ready for bed, then climbed into it and snuggled for a while before they both grew drowsy.  Kurt was the first to fall asleep; it was harder for Blaine, who was staring in amazement at Kurt's left hand in his, the ring shining on his finger.  It was finally hitting him that Kurt had said yes, that he was cuddled up in bed with not his boyfriend, but his fiancée.  And at the moment, Blaine's mind could come up with no greater miracle.

* * *

The day after Christmas, they called to tell their parents.  Kurt's dad, Carole, and Finn offered congratulations.  Rachel pouted because she hadn't been told that Blaine was going to propose.  Blaine's father wished them well.  His mother, on the other hand, was too busy booking a plane ticket to say much, other than that she would be there that night and Kurt should make sure he was free for lunch the next day, and he should clear his afternoon.

“What about me?”  Blaine demanded playfully.

“Of course, Darling, you can come if you want.  But Kurt and I have a lot to go over and you'll probably just be bored,” his mother told him.

Kurt immediately went into panic mode.  He had to get what he wanted defined before Blaine's mother arrived, so she wouldn't impose her own will on him too much.  He spent the rest of the day filling a sketchpad with sketches of tuxes and bridesmaids' dresses, sketches and clipped pictures of cakes and flowers, and everything else he could think of.  He was terrified of meeting with Blaine's mother unarmed.

That evening, the men had dinner with Blaine's mother.  She asked to see the ring, and complimented both Blaine's choice and the way it looked on Kurt.  She had already booked appointments at several florists' shops and bakeries to look at arrangements and discuss both the appearance and taste of possible cakes.  She and Kurt discussed the schedule for the next day.  She had left preparations for the annual Anderson New Year's party up to her assistant, as well as a trusted caterer and a decorator, but she couldn't be away from the preparations too long, so they only had one day; they needed to make the most of it.  After dinner, they bid her goodnight and went back to their apartment.

Kurt loved Blaine's mother.  He had always liked her, but the feeling was intensified now.  Unfortunately, that made him fear he wouldn't be able to stand up to her if it meant disappointing her, but he really did want his wedding to be the way he'd always pictured it in his head.  He told Blaine his worries that night in bed.  Blaine chuckled.  “If my mom gets too overbearing, let me know and I'll get her to back off.  But I don't think there'll be a problem.”

The next day, Kurt gathered his sketchpad and walked to the café where he was meeting Blaine's mother for lunch.  He was so nervous he wasn't sure he would be able to eat.  Entering the restaurant, he spotted Mrs. Anderson already seated at a quiet table near a window.  Walking over, he greeted her and sat down.  A waiter approached as he scanned the menu, and they both ordered salads and drinks.  After the waiter withdrew, Blaine's mother said, “We'll talk about the wedding after the food arrives.  First, I'd like to talk about what your plans are for after the wedding.”

“After?”  Kurt looked at her blankly.

“Not immediately after.  But eventually.  Have the two of you discussed whether or not you'd like to have a family?  I could ask Blaine, but when your own mother asks you that question, it's kind of nagging,” she clarified.

Kurt was suddenly glad the food hadn't come yet, because he was pretty sure he would have choked.  “Um, yeah.  We want one.  Other than the fact that we want at least one child, we haven't really gotten very far.  We haven't talked about how many or anything,” he told her, wondering how he had ended up in a position in which he was having this conversation with his boyfriend's, no, fiancée's, mother.

“Have you thought about how you're going to do that?”  She asked.  “I mean, obviously neither of you are going to get pregnant, so you'll either have to adopt or use a surrogate.”

“We really haven't discussed it at all,” he said, not sure he was liking where this was going.

“Well,” she said, “I would suggest adopting, maybe from Asia.  You could use a surrogate, but if you do that, you should be the biological father, at least once.”

Kurt blushed.  He could not believe they were discussing this.  On the other hand, she seemed pretty sure Blaine shouldn't father their child, and as embarrassing as this discussion was, he needed to know why.  He couldn't think of a single reason why Blaine shouldn't be the biological father of their child, and a lot of reasons why he should, so he needed to find out why Blaine's mother held the opinion she did.  “Really?”  He asked, hoping it would draw her out without him having to play twenty questions to get at the answer.

Just then the drinks arrived.  “Yes.  I want a granddaughter, and Blaine can't father one,” she told him.

Okay, that was news.  He wondered what would prevent Blaine from fathering a daughter.  Some genetic disease he carried that would only be dangerous to a girl, perhaps?  But wracking his brain, he was pretty sure things like that went the other way:  the mothers were the carriers and the diseases affected the sons.  He must have looked puzzled, because she continued, “How much do you know about our family?  Specifically the Andersons?”

“Uh, some, not tons,” he answered.

“You know we have two boys, Cooper and Blaine, right?”  She confirmed his knowledge.

“Right . . . .”  Kurt agreed.

“Were you aware that their father is one of five children?  Or that they were all boys?  And not one of them has had a daughter?  All of Blaine's cousins on the Anderson side are boys.  And Blaine's grandfather is from a family of boys, all of whom have had only boys.  After Blaine was born I did a little research into the Anderson family genealogy, and going back six generations only boys have been born to Anderson men.  It's statistically impossible, and yet it's true.”  She informed him.

“O-kay,” Kurt said, somewhat hesitantly.  He'd have to ask Blaine about that.

“Anyway, I fell in love with an Anderson, and I had only boys.  I always wanted a daughter, but since I never had one, I would love a granddaughter.  Given the Anderson family history, I didn't think that was going to happen, since I fully expect neither of my sons will father anything other than boys.  You, however, give me hope.  As far as I know, there's no reason why you can't give me a granddaughter.  The fact that Blaine is gay may actually be a blessing in disguise,” she said.

Kurt was trying to figure out how to answer that when the food came, and Blaine's mother abruptly changed the subject to the wedding.  “Have you thought about where you'll get married or who will officiate?”

“No,” Kurt told her honestly.  “For a long time I thought I'd never be able to get married.  I felt like I'd never escape Ohio and me getting married there would never be legal.  For a long time I felt like I was the only gay guy in Ohio, and I'd never even find someone who would want to marry me.  So, in my mind, I've thought about clothes and flowers and cakes, but not so much about where, other than somewhere it's legal.”

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before beginning.  “You know we're Catholic, right?”  Kurt nodded.  She continued, “And, even though the church hasn't come to accept him fully yet, church does mean a great deal to Blaine.  I know you're not religious, Blaine's told me you don't believe in God, and I know we won't be able to find a Catholic priest to marry you, but I think it would mean a lot to Blaine if we could find a clergyman to officiate.”

“As long as they're licensed by the state of New York or wherever we end up holding the wedding, and it's considered legal here, I'm fine with whoever we find,” Kurt told her.

“I have an idea,” she said.  “I did a little research, and I think I found a place that would be good, as long as you don't have your heart set on getting married in the city.”

“Um, I haven't really thought about not getting married in the city, and I have to warn you that I'm not really an outdoorsy type, but what did you find?”  He asked.

Blaine's mother pulled several printed pages from her bag and passed them over to him.  They contained both information and pictures of a beautiful church and another large, elegant, old building.  “This is a church in upstate New York where the minister is willing to perform marriage ceremonies for gay couples.  It's large enough for a pretty big wedding, but a small one would be fine too, whatever you want.  It's also only a couple of miles from this inn,” and with that she indicated the pictures of the other building.  “It has a ballroom that will accommodate up to two hundred guests, and while not everyone could stay at the inn, there is a wonderful honeymoon suite for the wedding night for the two of you plus a lot of other guest rooms and there are nice inns and hotels and B and B's in the area for the rest of the guests.  They work with the church a lot and there's an old carriage path through the woods that separate the inn from the church, and they can arrange to have a horse drawn carriage pick you up at the church after the pictures and take you to the reception at the inn.”

Kurt's eyes shone as he shuffled through the pages she had given him.  Planning a wedding with Blaine's mom would be better than he ever expected.  His delay in speaking made her uncertain.  “It was just an idea.  I know it's your wedding, not mine.  I didn't mean to overstep.  We don't have to do it there,” she said quickly.

“No,” Kurt said, shaking his head and trying to blink back his tears as he met her eyes.  “This is perfect.  Thank you so much.  I think the two of us are going to make great partners on this.”  Blaine's mother beamed at him, but another thought crossed his mind and he frowned.  “There's just one problem:  there's no way we can afford something like this.”

“Of course we can,” Blaine's mother told him.

“What?  I know Blaine has more money than I do, but this has to be really expensive, and honestly, I'm trying not to be too much of a financial burden on my parents, especially since my brother and I are both in school, and our parents are trying to pay for both of us at the same time.  I just can't even consider something this expensive,” Kurt told her with regret.

“You may not be able to afford it, but the Andersons can.  The way he's going, Cooper may never get married, and he's straight, so his bride's family will plan and pay for at least most of his wedding.  And that's assuming it doesn't happen at a drive through chapel in a state with no waiting period between obtaining the marriage license and the actual ceremony.  This is my only shot, so I plan to make the most of it.  And if that means we help pay for my son's wedding when he marries the love of his life, so be it.  Honestly, we were afraid Blaine would never find anyone like you, and we're so glad that he did.  We'd cheerfully pay for all of this, but I understand if you're not comfortable with that, so we'll help as much as you want,” Mrs. Anderson informed him.

Kurt didn't know what to say.  He stared at Blaine's mother for a moment before he managed to choke out, “Thank you, so much, for everything.”  Somehow, it didn't seem like nearly enough.

Mrs. Anderson was the consummate socialite, and an expert at handling awkward situations.  Not dwelling on the issue of money, she moved on, saying, “We have a lot of appointments this afternoon with florists and bakeries.  First, we'll have to make sure they can arrange an upstate delivery; if they can't there's no use in considering them, and we have to make sure they won't try to subcontract the job.  Next, we consider arrangements at the florists and look at designs and taste at the bakeries.  Yes, we want the cake to be beautiful, but it should taste good too, and most wedding cakes don't.  And we need to talk about how to handle Blaine.”

Kurt's head was spinning by this time, but her comment about handling Blaine got his attention.  “Um, excuse me?”  He wasn't sure what she meant and needed clarification.

“Well, we have to deal with Blaine.  He'll want to feel like he has some say in his own wedding, most grooms do.  But we aren't going to let him really do the planning.  So what we do is this:  first, we decide what he can help with.  Choosing the cake is a good one, because he cares about food, even if you can't always tell from the way he eats.  So let's say we're going to let him help choose the cake.  We aren't going to let him have free reign.  We will choose a bakery or two that are good.  We narrow down the choices on designs, cake flavors and fillings.  Then we let him choose from those.  Just make sure all the choices you give him are ones you like.  Or, you pick the one you want, and make sure all the other choices you give him are unacceptable to him.  That way, he thinks he's contributing, but you still get what you want,” she told him smugly.

Kurt laughed disbelievingly.  Suddenly planning his wedding was turning into the best amusement park ride he'd ever been on.  Mrs. Anderson paid the check, waiving him away when he attempted to pay, and they struck out with her list of florists and bakeries.

Blaine met them that evening for dinner, looking between his mother and Kurt as they shared secretive looks and laughs and defected his questions.  He was glad they were getting along, but felt they would have to have a long discussion about what had happened that day, although he didn't have much hope, since neither his mother nor his fiancée seemed inclined to explain, and he suspected that most of what he wanted to know fell into a new loophole in the “no secrets” rule.  He knew he would find out in due time, which meant when they wanted him to know.

* * *

Word of their engagement spread quickly, and friends called with congratulations.  They used the calls to catch up with everyone.  Tina was at Northwestern, and she and Mike, who was still studying at the Joffrey Ballet School in Chicago, were also engaged.  Sam had gotten help, finally, with his dyslexia at junior college, and had made good grades which allowed him to transfer to Ohio State; he and Mercedes had begun dating again during the Christmas break.  Puck had also managed to get into Ohio State, having been accepted as an English major.  Lauren was at Harvard, double majoring in electrical engineering and computer programming while maintaining her place on the wrestling team.  Quinn was still at Yale, majoring in business; she wasn't seeing anyone, and was happy with the situation.  Artie was in New York, at the Brooklyn Film Academy; although technically in the same city, they didn't see each other much, as everyone was so busy and he was focused on a different area, but he offered his best wishes before rushing off to a meeting about a new student film he was working on.  Kitty, Marley, Jake and Ryder were still at McKinley, preparing to lead the Glee Club to a fourth consecutive national championship, provided they won regionals.  Kurt and Blaine enjoyed finding out what was going on with all their old friends.

Kurt spent hours on the phone with wedding vendors and Blaine's mom.  As it turned out, planning a wedding two years in advance had its advantages; almost no one was booked that far ahead, so they were trying to get everything locked in before anyone else booked their favorites.  Trying to maintain secrecy, he left the room any time Blaine was there.  Blaine just rolled his eyes; all he wanted was for Kurt to be happy, so whatever he wanted was fine, and the cloak and dagger routine was amusing.

Both men had to work on New Year's Eve, Blaine performing with the band, and Kurt had been drafted by Santana to wait tables again, and that was after working the morning at Vogue.com and the afternoon at the restaurant.  Kurt was starting to look forward to classes for the relaxation, both mentally and physically.  They managed to make it home around a quarter till three in the morning, apologizing to one another about yet another missed New Year's Eve kiss, until Blaine pointed out it was still not midnight in California.  So they waited a few minutes and shared a west coast New Year's Eve kiss in New York.

A few days after New Year's, Santana and Brittany arrived, several muscular men in tow.  Kurt recognized most of them.  They were either employees or regulars at the gay bar where Santana worked as de facto manager.  He shook his head in amusement; Santana was the only lesbian he knew who could convince a small army of gay men to act as free movers for her.  They made quick work of moving the sparse furniture from Santana's room, as well as she and Brittany's clothing.  Kurt kept watch to make sure they took only the girls' belongings, just in case.  He thought about objecting to them taking the bed; it was actually his after all, but a look at Blaine, who shook his head once, subtly, and he kept his mouth shut.

Once the door shut behind the girls, they turned to each other, almost giddy with the prospect of being alone in their own space after seven months of sharing it.  Blaine encircled Kurt's waist with his arms and murmured, “We're alone.  What do you want to do first?”

Taking in the clutter of books and instruments that littered their living and dining room, Kurt leaned in, resting his forehead against Blaine's, and said, “Move your instruments to your new music room.”

Blaine laughed.  He had kind of expected that.  Letting go of Kurt, he began picked up his cello case and a guitar case, and said, “Help me out.  The faster it gets moved, the faster we get to do what I want to do.”

“And what is that?”  Kurt inquired.  Blaine's answer was merely a smoldering look, but one that got Kurt to grab cases and start moving them as fast as he could.

[1] Traditional French Carol