Cadences (35/35 + epilogue)
Word Count: ~2500
Summary: Life doesn’t get much better than when you get to spend it with your favorite fella. Follow the boys as they navigate from young love to newlyweds to fatherhood and beyond.
Author’s Note: Thanks to the betas, Becca and Kerry.
Almost done now, I'll be posting the epilogue tomorrow!
Labor Day Weekend, 2013- Back to the start...
A moment of Michelle
Blaine is quiet next to me for the entire plane ride to New York. I try to think of things to say to him, some way to calm his nerves, but I can’t. I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s feeling in this moment.
Because even through his quiet, all of his anxieties are flashing in quick succession across his face. But then he takes out a folded up piece of paper. I try not to peak too much, but I do notice that it’s from Cooper.
I smile to myself; I have a feeling whatever Cooper says will help Blaine a thousand times more than the trite platitudes I was devising.
After we land and go through baggage claim, he goes practically catatonic at the curb while I hail a taxi.
I wonder again how he’s going to manage everything. Going to college, living with someone he’s never met, being in an unfamiliar city, having to make his way around, talk to people. His reticence is so deep rooted these days. It’s only gotten worse as he’s aged. And he gets by okay even though he barely ever speaks. But it’s the things that I know he can’t do that worry me the most. He would have never hailed a cab. He still has me make all of his phone calls, if he needs to cancel an appointment with Paula, or if he needed to change his work schedule.
How is he going to do this?
I brought it up to Greg last night. I’ve brought it up to Greg a hundred times actually, from the moment Blaine first mentioned that he wanted to go to college in New York. He said he thinks Blaine will be just fine. And if he’s not just fine he’ll come home. I don’t want the kid to feel like he’s failed though.
We’re stuck in traffic now and I’m pretty sure I haven’t heard him say a word since Ohio. He looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.
“You okay bud?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a moment and I think maybe he’ll just nod and not give me a real answer when he takes a deep breath and says, “I, I’ve bbbeen b-better.”
He blinks hard and what I’d really like to do is pull him into a long hug in the back of this taxi. Instead I take his hand and give it a squeeze. I want to say something, but I don’t want to … overwhelm him, or make him feel like he doesn’t have any options. But I also want him to know that I believe him.
I don’t think I tell him nearly enough that I believe in him. That I’m so proud of him.
“You chose this Blaine,” I start. I don’t want him to think I’m yelling at him, I don’t want to make him feel bad, but he needs to know that he’s responsible for his actions and decisions. ”Own your choice. You don’t have to be here, and no one will think any less of you if it doesn’t work out. I don’t know what Cooper said in his letter, but I want to say that you need to try.”
He pulls his hand away at that and hunches in on himself. He nods and blinks and looks like he might cry. That was not my purpose. I try another tactic, hoping to make him understand what I’m saying.
“Take it day by day,” I continue, “And then week by week. I know you can do this Blaine. And I’m very proud of you.”
I must not tell him that I’m proud of him enough, because he whips his head up at me and looks me square in the eye. A smile so pure and delighted that I know in my very bones that he’s going to do his very best. He’s going to overcome every obstacle thrown at him and he will not just survive, but succeed.
When we get to his dorm I make sure to introduce him to his resident advisor so he doesn’t have to deal with saying his name. After that, I help him settle in and then excuse myself to go check into the hotel and freshen up. He seemed like he needed some time to himself to get acclimated. And I figure his roommate should arrive soon.
I try to nap at the hotel, but all I can think about is how different life will be when I get back home tomorrow. Blaine’s a quiet kid, he doesn’t make much mess, he doesn’t make a lot of noise, but he’s not a ghost. He has a weight and a presence in our household that I’m going to miss so very much.
I’ll start selling more houses, giving more piano lessons; spend more time with my sister and my dad. I have ways to fill my life. It’ll all work out.
I try to push the next thought away, but it gets me anyway.
Without him there, maybe it’s time for me to leave too.
I’m so tired of Greg’s crap. I’m tired of his attitude and his fake arrogance and his desperate need to be in control in front of me, the person who knows him best. I’m tired of his facade and I’m tired of the way he treats me.
On the other hand, maybe an empty nest will rekindle what once was. It’s a big maybe, but I want to be hopeful.
No napping happens and soon enough it’s time to head back over to Blaine’s dorm. I straighten my hair and change into the skirt I brought along with me. I never get to go to New York, so I figured if I was having dinner in the city with my son, I might as well wear something nice. I walk back towards campus. The evening is really quite gorgeous and I feel untethered in a way I never do in Ohio.
There’s something about this moment that makes me want to try. With my marriage, with my career, with my life. I’m going home and I’m going to try, just like I told Blaine he needs to try, so do I.
When I get to his dorm, he introduces me to his roommate Matt, and I’m honestly taken aback by how happy he seems. How at home and comfortable it seems like this boy makes him.
We invite Matt to go out for dinner with us, but he begs off, saying that his family is coming back later too.
Blaine talks without a filter at dinner, asking if we can stop someplace for him to pick up a guitar stand, telling me about how many siblings Matt has, saying that he already likes his dorm room more than he expected.
When we walk back to his dorm and say goodbye, I keep my tears in. My flight is early tomorrow morning, so there’s no point in me waking him up. I regret not staying longer, taking in the city, but when I made the reservations I was mostly bitter that Greg couldn’t be bothered to come with us. That when I suggested we drive Blaine out to school he acted like it was the biggest imposition I could have ever thought of.
I get back to the hotel and cry myself to sleep.
And the next day, I get home and I kiss my husband on the cheek.
He looks surprised.
But I’m going to try.
~~~~~
Labor Day Weekend, 2045
Blaine and Kurt are 51, Addie is 20, Declan is 18.
It’s the Friday before Labor Day and it’s time to drop Declan off at college. Addie’s been gone all summer, having found a job and an off campus apartment with friends. But that doesn’t stop her from wanting to go with the family to drop Declan off.
“We’re leaving tomorrow mmm-morning and ssssss-pending the night at a, a, a, a hotel be, be, be, b-b-because Declan has to be there at 10 am on, on, on Sunday,” Blaine tells her when she calls to ask them to pick her up. He’s glad it’s just Addie on the phone. He can’t seem to get his speech under control at the moment. “And b-b-because we don’t feel like dah-drah, d-driving ten hours in the course of one d-d-d-day.”
“That’s fine,” Addie replies.
“No sssss-trings?”
“Well,” Addie says, her voice lilting. “Does the hotel have a pool?”
“Yes.”
“You could also take me out for an elegant breakfast at IHOP.”
“Since when d-d-d-do you like IHOP?”
“I’ve always liked IHOP.”
“That’s false,” Blaine says.
“Fine, my tastes have unmatured. My palette is less sophisticated,” she admits.
“This from the girl who at 4 r-r-r-refused to move out of Bah-bah-rooklyn.”
“I can’t help it. Living in New Jersey all those years has practically made me a hick,” she says. “Now put Dumdum on the phone so I can explain to him that we’re going to IHOP whether he likes it or not.”
Blaine chuckles to himself and can’t wait to pick her up the next day.
Unlike Addie, Declan knew where he wanted to go for years. From the moment he learned that there was such a thing as mechanical engineering, and that he could major in it, that was all he wanted. And when he learned there was a program for the deaf through Rochester Institute of Technology, there was no further need for discussion. Because even though Declan functions well in the hearing world, a program with an emphasis on the hearing impaired will be nothing but a leg up for him.
Blaine thinks about his mom almost every day. He’s not sure he thought about her this much when she was alive, but days like today, driving Declan to college, dropping him off, saying goodbye, Blaine can’t help but remember doing the same with his mom. He wonders how she felt leaving him in New York all by himself. Was she worried? What was she thinking?
He’s sad that he never thought to ask.
What he remembers so clearly about that day was being shocked when she said she was proud of him. He was so shocked it rattled his very foundation. Between that and Cooper’s letter and the hug from his father, Blaine felt like his send off to college was perfect.
He wants to make sure Declan has the same kind of memories to look back on.
The difference is, he’s sure Declan knows exactly how loved he is, how proud his parents are of him, how much they’re going to miss him.
It doesn’t keep Blaine and Kurt from repeating it to him the whole way to Rochester.
Declan’s happy when Addie gets in the car and discussion turns to her nail polish color.
They get to the hotel and the kids head right to the pool. Because somehow, even at 18 and 20, they’re still very much kids. Blaine and Kurt join them, but after getting dunked countless times, Kurt decides to go sit in a lounge chair.
The next morning, they take Addie out for her elegant IHOP breakfast.
Declan is quiet, nervous, checking the time over and over again.
“I just don’t want to be late,” he says, when Kurt teases him about it.
“Dec, it’s okay, we have plenty of time,” Kurt tells him.
Declan nods and sucks on the straw of his chocolate milk.
The drop off part of the day is quick and to the point. After about an hour of hauling Declan’s belongings in from the car, it seems like it’s time to go. His resident advisor says they have a lot of activities planned for the rest of the day. Ice breakers and floor meetings, a barbecue for incoming freshmen.
The goodbyes are impossible.
Blaine has another fleeting thought of his mother’s face as she hugged him in his dorm room that day. It’s an emotion that’s hard to put your finger on as a parent. It’s happy and proud and so very sad.
Melancholy.
Wistful.
Though somehow also satisfied and maybe even a bit relieved.
Blaine hugs Declan with all his might. Even though Declan is nearly half a foot taller than Blaine, he’s still his little boy. Blaine tells him again how proud he is. Declan’s eyes fill with tears and he squeezes back. Turning then and doing the same with Kurt, who kisses the side of his head and pats his back and keeps his mouth shut for fear of actual sobs escaping.
Addie is also near tears, but she holds herself together a little better, hugging Declan and telling him that she’s just a phone call and a car ride away if he needs her.
And then the three of them leave.
Declan stands alone in his room and spins in a slow circle, hoping and waiting for his very own Matt to walk through the door any minute.
Out in the quad in front of Declan’s dorm, Addie puts her arms through both of her father’s.
No one says a word until they’re back to the car.
Addie’s in the backseat and she leans in between her dads, who are both scrubbing their faces with tissues.
“I think we should go have an elegant lunch at IHOP,” she suggests.
They both can’t help but let out a watery laugh.
“Or Cracker Barrel. I’ll leave the choice up to you,” Addie continues.
She leans back against the seat and puts her earbuds then, knowing instinctively that her dads might need a few minutes to themselves.
Blaine’s chin quivers as he starts the car.
Kurt puts a finger underneath it and turns his head, and kisses Blaine softly.
“How did we do this?” Blaine asks.
“Do what?”
“End up here, in this place, with these kids?”
Kurt laughs, knowing exactly how Blaine’s feeling.
“Well it all started with a …” Kurt trails off, trying to think of where it really all starts.
“It’s funny,” Blaine says, almost like he’s reading Kurt’s mind. “I don’t know where our story b-b-begins.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t end here,” Kurt tells him. “In this terribly depressing parking lot.”
“No,” Blaine agrees. “And it’s not going to end with an elegant lunch at IHOP.”
Addie hinges forward and plucks out her earbuds. She hadn’t really been paying much attention to what they were saying, but she knows they’re forlorn.
“Just think,” she tells them, her eyes wide, gesturing like a game show hostess. “Now you can go home and have all the kitchen table sex you could ever dream of.”
Kurt leans over the seat to swat Addie with a magazine. He turns around and Blaine smiles at him sheepishly, making Kurt smile sheepishly back. It doesn’t sound like a terrible plan.
Blaine leans over and plants a kiss on Kurt’s cheek.
“Love you, Dumdum.”
“Love you, too, Poop.”
And they drive away.