Blaine sat in his office the following day over his lunch break, knee bouncing frantically up and down. He had tons of work to do, and he was giving recorder lessons to a group of third graders in 45 minutes, but he had to make the phone call. He fidgeted with his cellphone for a bit, dialing the number and deleting it and dialing it over again. He kept hearing Kurt’s voice in his head, yelling at him to make the damn call. When he finally pushed ‘call,’ and the line was ringing, he hadn’t quite registered it. He fumbled the phone up to his ear, wishing his heartbeat would slow down.

“H’lo?” his mother sang into the phone.

“Mom,” he breathed, relieved that she had answered.

“Blaine!” she yelped. “How are you, honey? It’s been a while.”

Blaine laughed. “Sorry about that. I’ve been insanely busy.”

“Yeah, I saw your e-mail about the new job. Congratulations,” she said. “It sounds wonderful.”

Blaine’s stomach was flipping over. “Thanks. Look, Mom, I actually called to talk to Dad.”

Kathleen was silent for a moment. “You did?”

He let out a long breath. “Yes.”

“Oh, ok, I – why, may I ask?” she said.

Blaine laughed. “Kurt and I want to set a date.”

“You haven’t yet?”

“I want Dad to come,” he explained, ears burning with embarrassment at the thought. After months and months of insisting that his father could reconsider, it all seemed so foolish when he said it to his mother. “I want to talk to him about the wedding.”

“Blaine, honey, I don’t know if you really want to do that,” she said tenderly. “It’s not going to accomplish – “

“I’ve already heard this from Kurt about a thousand times,” he snapped. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – look, Mom, I know it’s a long shot. But I want to talk to him anyway. Is he there?”

Kathleen sighed into the phone. “Yes, yes he is. Let me go get him, see if he’ll talk to you.”

Blaine waited on the line, a whole new layer of nerves infiltrating his stomach: he hadn’t at all factored in the possibility that Gordon wouldn’t accept the call. Then what? Could he admit defeat so easily? Would he find the strength to call back again? Would he –

“Blaine,” sounded a gruff voice.

He pushed those thoughts out of his head as quickly as possible. “Dad,” he said. “Hi.”

“Can I help you with something?”

“Dad, I was just wondering if – well, hi.”

“Yes, hello,” he said. “We’ve been through that part already.”

“How are you?”

“What do you want?” he repeated, his tone very even, very impersonal, as if Blaine were a telemarketer.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about Kurt. And – and the, uh,” he stuttered. Why couldn’t he say ‘wedding’?

“Yes, great, let’s do talk about Kurt, shall we?”

“Oh,” said Blaine, wiping at a drop of sweat that was snaking its way down his cheek.

There was a moment of silence before Gordon barked, “Well? Get on with it, Kid.”

“I – okay, well, Kurt and I wanted to set a date. You know, for the–“

“You’re not calling to apologize?”

Blaine’s brow furrowed. “Apologize?”

“I figured he wouldn’t do it himself,” said Gordon.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me.”

“Dad, can you please talk to me like an adult? I’m trying to talk to you about my wedding, for Christ’s sake.”

“Watch your tone, Blaine,” threatened Gordon.

“Watch yours, why don’t you?”

Gordon sighed. “You know, this isn’t a good time to talk.”

Blaine choked a little bit on nothing. Stay calm, he thought. Just stay calm. “When would be a good time?”

“I’ll give you back to your mother,” he stated coldly.

“Wait, Dad, hold on, please talk to –“

“Blaine,” he interrupted, his tone much less harsh, “I wish things could be different. But they just aren’t.”

“Things can be different,” muttered Blaine.

“So I’ve been told. But not really. I – I can’t, Blaine.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“I’m going to give you back to your mother now.”

“Why’d you take the call if you’re just going to give me back to Mom? You must want to talk about this.”

“I was thinking you’d called to apologize. I’d be happy to talk about that.”

Blaine opened his mouth with every intention of offering a calm response, but he was livid without fully realizing it. “Apologize for what? What are you talking –?”

“Since you’re not apologizing, I’m giving you back to your mother.”

Blaine sighed and he listened to the phone being handed off to a new pair of hands.

“I’m so sorry,” came Kathleen’s voice.

But Blaine was already crying. “What’s he talking about? Apologize for what?”

“I don’t know,” said Kathleen.

“I can’t apologize for being myself,” squeaked Blaine, pressing the heal of his hand against his right eye. “I won’t do that.”

“I know, baby.”

“Why are you with him, Mom? How do you deal with that shit? Leave him.”

Kathleen sighed. “I wish I was strong like you, Blaine, but we can’t all be so lucky.”

Blaine cried into the phone, too frustrated and confused to say anything.

“Where would I go if I left him?”

“Anywhere. Come live with me and Kurt,” slurred Blaine.

“You know you’d throw me out after I did your laundry and dishes once,” she teased.

Blaine chuckled for a moment, then hugged himself and held his breath to stop his tears. Kathleen started talking about this and that and nothing at all, promising she’d stay on the line until he calmed down. She wouldn’t leave him, she promised. He would’ve stayed there listening to his mother for longer, but he had to teach. “Mom, I’ll call you some time soon.”

“I’m going to talk to him about this, Blaine. I’m so sorry,” she said.

Blaine reached for a tissue from the box on his desk. “Thanks, Mom.”

That night, over dinner, Blaine reached across the table and took Kurt’s hand in his. He squeezed it, eyes tired and not quite meeting Kurt’s. “I called.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “You – you did?”

Blaine nodded, bit his lip, then shrugged. “You were right. Let’s just pick a date.” He waited for Kurt to leap out of his seat and run to fetch the calendar from their bedroom, but he did no such thing.

“It didn’t go well?”

“You’re not gonna say ‘I told you so’?” asked Blaine, trying his best not to glare. He really wasn’t mad at Kurt; he was mad at himself.

Kurt’s eyes were round and sad. “Of course not. I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said. “Really. I am.”

“The weird thing was that he kept saying that he thought I’d called to apologize. For both of us,” said Blaine, jabbing his fork into the piece of grilled chicken on his plate. “Like, apologize for what? Being gay? Please.”

“He wanted both of us to apologize?” asked Kurt, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

“He wanted me to apologize for both of us. Or something. He said he knew you wouldn’t apologize on your own. Like, what does that even mean?”

Kurt looked quite pensive for a few seconds, then his eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed red.

“What?” asked Blaine, who had noticed Kurt’s face shift.

“Did he specifically say he wanted me to apologize?” Kurt asked, hesitant and shaky.

“Well, yeah, but – I mean, it was both of – wait, why? Do you know what he was talking about?”

The crimson on Kurt’s cheeks deepened. His wouldn’t make eye contact. “No, not a clue. It’s just – well, no, I don’t know.”

Blaine watched Kurt getting flustered and thought about pushing the matter, but he was too tired to revisit any of his emotions from earlier in the day. “He’s just nuts, I guess.”

“I really am sorry,” said Kurt, managing to look Blaine in the eye again. It was a weighty apology, heavier than Blaine thought necessary, but he guessed he appreciated the extra attention after a day of rejection.

Blaine squeezed his hand again, smiling now. “It’s okay. I just – well, like I said. You were right,” he said, laughing a little. “I just want to be married. So let’s do this.”

And finally, Kurt smiled, clapped quickly three times, and ran to the bedroom to get a calendar. Blaine looked intently at Kurt’s now empty chair, wondering if he should ask what revelation Kurt had come to; he had been with him long enough to know that Kurt was hiding something. But when Kurt came skipping back into the room, talking about invitation designs and song options for their first dance, Blaine didn’t have the heart to stop him.

* * *

“I’m sorry, can you run this by me again?” said Blaine. He clutched the phone tightly to his ear, waiting for Kurt to elaborate. He felt a little dizzy.

“I just – sort of drunk dialed your dad that one night.”

Blaine smacked his hand against his forehead. “Holy shit.”

* * *

Kurt and Blaine were facing off over the coffee table, the calendar between them. “Why don’t you think this is important?”

“Kurt,” snapped Blaine, “I do. I do. How many times do I have to say that? Why are you insisting I don’t?”

“Do you not understand that the color schemes we’ve agreed on are better suited for a late summer wedding?”

Blaine heaved a frustrated sigh. “I – okay. Yes. I understand.”

“Then why would we have the wedding in March?” hissed Kurt.

“It was just a thought,” said Blaine, clenching his fists, trying to stay calm. “A suggestion.”

“We just can’t. I’ve worked so hard, and we can’t.” Kurt couldn’t stop moving, shifting his weight between back and forth between his right and left hips.

“Good lord, all right, Kurt. Pick whatever date you want.”

“No, we have to do this together. That’s the whole point. This is part of the wedding process. We’re supposed to bond over picking the date.”

“What, did you take some kind of Wedding Lamaze class? Bought a book? This isn’t a nursery, it’s a date on a calendar.”

“I have married friends, Blaine. We talk,” said Kurt, crossing his arms. “We have to do this together. We have to work together.”

“Why are you so angry at me?” asked Blaine, quieter than before, hunching over helplessly. “We’re finally picking a date. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I am!” shouted Kurt.

Blaine chuckled skeptically. “Yeah, I’m very convinced.”

“I just – okay.” Kurt took a deep breath. “I just want everything to be perfect. We’ve waited all this time, and I want – I want a lot of things.”

“You just seem really uptight since I told you about my dad,” said Blaine, looking at the floor. “Do you want to tell me something?”

Kurt shook his head emphatically. “No.”

“You’re sure? Anything?”

Kurt sighed and chewed on his lip for a moment. “No. I’m sorry I’m being so crazy.”

“Okay,” breathed Blaine. “Then let’s pick a date in the summer.”

“But if that’s not what you want –“

“Kurt,” Blaine said, stepping forward, his shins against the edge of the coffee table between them. He put both of his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “What I want out of all of this is you. Okay? So pick a date that works. I’m going to be happy with it. And take a deep breath. I’ve had enough drama for one day. This is supposed to be the fun part.”

Kurt inhaled and exhaled dramatically. “Okay. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You’re fine,” said Blaine, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “So you like late August or early September, right?”

Kurt smiled and nodded.

* * *
“Kurt, I’m pretty sure you do owe him an apology.”

“But I’m not sorry about what I said,” reasoned Kurt.

“Do you even remember what you said?”

Kurt paused. Blaine could practically hear him shifting a stray piece of his hair into place. He exhaled into the receiver. “I remember saying that I love you more than anything. I told him that I know he wants this to be an issue about you being gay, but in reality it goes way deeper than that. Because, if he forgot about the fact that I’m a guy, he could at least understand that you were in love with someone. He could rant and rave about gender or religion or whatever he pleases, but pushing all of that aside, this is about his son being in love. I also remember saying something along the lines of how he’d be a damn fool to just ignore how fantastic you are, and how he should be so proud of you. And I promised him that I would never do anything to hurt you, or your mother, or him, and I hoped he’d reach out if and when he came around to seeing what a wonderful opportunity this would be for him to get back the relationship he used to have with you.”

Blaine swallowed, taking it all in as best he could. “You remember that pretty clearly.”

“Yeah,” said Kurt.

“All that clarity, and you didn’t think maybe you should’ve told me this happened?”

“Well, I did think about telling you. The night we picked the date, I –“

“I knew something was up with you that night. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Blaine, what the hell could I have said that wouldn’t have pissed you off?”

“I wish you had told me, Kurt.”

“Well, I probably should have. But, the point here is that I’m not sorry I said any of it. And on top of that, he’s coming to the wedding now. So I see no need to apologize to him.”

Blaine smiled. “You’re a bitch, you know?” he prodded, laughter in his tone.

“Yeah, well, I try. Now will you hurry up and get home? I’m needy.”

“No you’re not,” said Blaine.

“Yes I am.”

“Kurt,” he said.

“Yes, darling?” answered Kurt, putting on his best Barbra Streisand.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

* * *

Late in July, Blaine woke up to Henry sitting on his face. He sat up quickly, gasping for air, after Henry used Blaine’s trachea as a launching pad to jump to the other side of the living room. He glanced out the window and saw no sun, so he turned to check the cable box. 3:48 a.m. He vaguely remembered falling asleep on the couch watching a Star Wars marathon and drawing up some lesson plans for the start of the school year; he turned to look for Kurt, who he remembered had been sitting with him before he drifted off, but he wasn’t there. Blaine massaged his trachea, tutting at Henry, who was now sitting on the floor across from the couch, staring at Blaine, swishing his tail back and forth.

He stood up, stretching a crick out of his shoulder, trying to remember what day it was. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket, happy to read that it was Sunday, and also noticed a missed call from home with a voicemail. Rubbing his eye and yawning lazily, he clicked a few buttons and held the phone against his ear to listen, expecting his mother asking another question about how Cousin Julia could get a cheaper hotel since August rates were unreasonably high, or whether or not she should pick up some biscotti for him from the Lima Bean for old times’ sake before she made the trip to New York.

Instead, he heard, “Blaine, this is your father. I – well, I’ve had a few months to think since we last spoke, and I was just wondering if you were planning on heading back here at all before you get, uh – before August. If you were, I’d love to sit down and just talk about a few things. I guess this is me inviting you out if you’re interested. If not, well, just let me know. Or tell your mother so that I know. Either way is fine. Well. That’s – right. Take it easy.”

A week later, Kurt and Blaine hugged each other tight just outside the airport security line at LaGuardia. “Good luck,” Kurt whispered in Blaine’s ear. “I’ll be waiting to hear how everything goes with baited breath.”

“Thanks,” answered Blaine, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can.”

“Try not to kill him, okay? Whatever he’s got planned, I’m sure it’s as well-intentioned as it could be.”

“You hate my dad. Why would you stick up for him now?”

Kurt blushed, looking off to the side. “I just – you never know how people might react to things that were said in the past, is all I’m trying to say.”

Blaine was still smiling, but he tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows dropping a bit, hoping Kurt would elaborate. “Feeling cryptic today?”

“I just – don’t take what he says personally. I just want you to be happy, okay?” Kurt pulled him into a quick kiss.

“I’ll try my best. Hope for everything, expect nothing. Right?” said Blaine.

Kurt nodded and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist, gently pulling their hips together. “Right.”

“Well,” said Blaine, kissing Kurt once more tenderly before he pulled away and picked up his duffel bag. “I’m off to the depths of hell.”

“Call me when you land?” asked Kurt, adjusting Blaine’s button-down collar for him.

“Of course.”

“And a million times after that?”

“I’ll send you some e-mails if I can’t call.”

“I’ll be waiting for them at my desk,” cooed Kurt.

Blaine turned away from him and walked towards security, sneaking another look and a wave before he disappeared behind the metal detectors. Once he was settled at his gate, waiting for the boarding process to begin, he closed his eyes and thought about the ‘everything’ he should be hoping for. He couldn’t piece together what was going on; he was quite sure his dad wouldn’t change his mind, but what if he did? And if that was the case, and he came to the wedding, what if he spoiled the whole event that Kurt had worked so hard to put together?

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is Continental flight CO5230 with direct service to Columbus. We would like to begin the boarding process at this time…”

Blaine opened his eyes and smiled to himself. He had no idea what he was headed for, but it didn’t matter. He was ready for this – whatever it was. He was ready to talk. Really, he’d been ready for years.