Three years later.
Libby Darling Hummel-Anderson is five, and she knows a LOT. She knows how to write her own name, for one. All twenty six letters of it, and the funny little line in the middle. She knows her ABC, and she can count all the way up to twenty in English and Italian, which Rick taught her when they were in Chicago over the summer. He's called Riccardo really, but he calls her any name which starts with an L, so in return she calls him Rick and they laugh.
She knows that she is in love with the shiny red shoes daddy bought her, and she knows that when papa moaned they cost too much money, she pouted and daddy kissed papas neck, just behind his ear, and then papa was smiling and the shoes were paid for, and as Libby skipped proudly from the store with her brand new shoes in a bag, papa had whispered to daddy something about later, which made them both laugh and daddy squeeze papa tight.
They do that a lot, her daddies. Cuddle. And laugh. And Libby laughs with them, even though she doesn't always know what they're laughing at, but somehow, that often makes them laugh harder. Still, she knows a lot. Like now, for example, she knows that she prefers daddy to brush her hair, but he cannot do pigtails or plaits to save his life, so papa does her hair on important days like today, so she looks neat and tidy. And papa pulls and tugs, with bobby pins sticking out from between his lips as he huffs frustratedly.
"Keep still!"
"I am!" Libby protests. "You're hurting me!"
"I am not!"
"Are too! Daddy! Papa's being mean."
"Oh don't you dare try and play us off against each other, young lady," Kurt grumbles as he slides another grip into place. "Daddy and I are a team, you should know that by now, aren't we, Blaine?"
"Huh?" Blaine looks up from behind the newspaper, lowering his glasses to the end of his nose. "What's that?"
"Never mind," Kurt sighs, shaking his head. "Just be sure to take Lib to the hairdresser on Saturday to get a bob cut."
"No!" Libby shrieks, making her papa laugh loudly then kiss her cheek, assuring her he was joking.
Kurt Hummel-Anderson is twenty nine years old, and though Libby would protest he doesn't know as much as she does, he's still fairly certain about quite a few things. He's certain there is no child more beautiful than Libby, for example. Her hair is a dark blond now, and falls in soft waves almost to her shoulders, when Kurt isn't wrestling it into a hair band, that is. Her eyes are big and a bright, clear blue. She always looks inquisitive, and Blaine often comments that she looks like a little woodland nymph, almost elfin like with her cute little upturned nose and rosebud mouth. He also says she looks just like Kurt, as most people do, and Kurt always adds that while she might look like him, her personality is all things Blaine.
Kurt is also certain that Blaine still loves him as much, if not more than ever. Two years ago, Anna Farris retired to look after her husband who had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Thankfully, the cancer treatment had been successful and they were now touring the world, and Anderson costume designs had been handed over to Kurt. Anna had withdrawn her name, wishing to remain as a silent partner and Kurt had started the rather daunting task of being in charge of his own large and in demand company, taking them to the top of their game. He was now overseeing offices in Chicago and New York, though he tries to remain in Ohio as much as possible, and he nearly always ties his Chicago visits in with Blaine's orchestra work. But Blaine, his marvelous, magnificent and magnanimous Blaine, had stood by his side throughout, caring for both him and Libby with a patience and devotion that was admired by many a mom at their toddler groups or music lessons.
Another thing Kurt is certain of is this; ordinarily, if Blaine had emerged from behind the newspaper having clearly not been listening- or even if he'd read the newspaper at the breakfast table all at- Kurt would have had something to say. Happy they may be, but they still bicker just as any married couple does. But not today. Today Kurt knows exactly why Blaine is acting as he is, and exactly what he is feeling, because Kurt feels the same.
"All done," Kurt announces triumphantly, and Libby hops down from the stool.
"Very pretty," Blaine smiles. "Okay." Glancing up at the clock, he swallows nervously before folding the paper neatly. "Better go find your shoes."
Blaine Hummel-Anderson is forty four, and while Kurt and Libby would tease and insist he knows absolutely nothing at all, secretly he prides himself on knowing more than anyone. He knows that he is the luckiest man alive, to have such a wonderful husband and daughter. He knows that Libby brings him more joy than he ever thought a child could. She sings beautifully, and will spend hours sitting by Blaine's side on the piano bench while he plays, her little voice lifting along with the notes and making the most beautiful sound. She's funny, this little daughter of his. Very good at getting her own way- just like Kurt- and she also takes great pride in her appearance, which Blaine's dad insists is because she has two gay dads. Kurt says Libby is just like Blaine, and he can see that, he supposes. She can be very stubborn- though again, they both carry that trait, but also she likes to protect, and worries about those she loves. She always wants things to be happy and peaceful, and she works incredibly hard to be the best at her game. She has an enormous sense of fun, and adores imaginary play along with any kind of outdoor sport, but her heart lies in music, just as it has always been for Blaine.
Blaine also knows that the last three years have seen them all become settled and content in their lives. He knows some would say boring, especially compared to how they used to live, but that doesn't bother him so much. Kurt is the main breadwinner, and though he has managers of his New York and Chicago offices, he still flies to one or other location two or three times a month, just to check in. But they're fleeting visits, one or two nights and then he's back in Blaine's arms where he belongs, and working from the studio at the back of the house, which he is fast outgrowing. So they have their routine; Blaine has Libby all morning while Kurt works, then they lunch together before swapping over so Blaine can either practice or write for the afternoon. Dinner, then bath and bed for Libby before the husbands snuggle up on the couch together or sneak off into the tub. Weekends are spent with family and friends, and once a month Libby sleeps over at Santana's for Kurt and Blaine to have their date night. Yes. It's a happy, contented routine for Blaine, and he feels that comfort all through his life.
He knows that he can travel to New York now, and has done several times. Since they spent a month there when Kurt did Cabaret, Blaine's ghosts have finally been laid to rest. He can't say he enjoys the loud hustle and bustle after so long living quietly in Westerville, but the nightmare has finally gone, and he can happily board the occasional plane with Kurt and Libby to spend a weekend there when a show Kurt's been working on opens.
He knows that the name Edward Roberts is never uttered, but he also knows that thanks to Riccardo, Edward Roberts is working in London as the conductor of the BBC concert orchestra, and won't be returning to the US any time soon. He knows that Kurt worked hard to forgive him, but their love pulled them through as it has before, and he randomly arrived home one evening after checking on his dad to find the entire living room lit with candles, soft music playing and Kurt holding his arms open. And when he had gone, fallen into his embrace and they started slowly dancing together, Kurt had whispered "I forgive you, I trust you and I love you," and everything had finally settled into place.
Blaine also knows that Kurt and Libby keep him young, though really, if he's entirely honest, his age is still the thing that bothers him the most. Sometimes, when they're both chasing Libby across the park, Blaine has to stop and he hates that. He hates that here he is, in his mid forties while his husband hasn't even hit thirty. So he tries his best. He's up running most mornings except weekends, and he goes to the gym regularly. Still, there's no mistaking that his hair is now clearly silver at the sides, he has visible laughter lines and his stomach muscles are not what they were. But with Kurt, all his troubles and insecurities seem to melt away. He doesn't think there will ever come a time when they don't want each other, when that spark of desire isn't waiting, ready to be ignited into a full, burning flame. That's what he loves most about his family. The ease of their affection. Constant hugs and kisses are shared, and he's proud that Libby is growing up finding it perfectly natural to not only have same sex parents, but to see loving, tender kisses and cuddles as a way of expressing their emotions for one another.
He knows also, that today he's going to need all the kisses and cuddles Kurt has to offer. He knows that today everything will change, and he knows he has only had three hours sleep because of it. He knows that Libby now stands by the front door, patiently waiting as he pulls his shoes on and gives Kurt a short, sharp nod to let him know he's ready, and he knows he could cry the second those bright red shoes step outside, because today is the day that Libby starts Kindergarten.
"Come on," Kurt says softly, kissing into his hair. "I know, okay? I do know. But Libby is waiting, look."
Sure enough, she stands, bouncing impatiently at the end of the drive, squinting in the sunshine as she looks at her dads silhouetted in the doorway. "Do I just walk from here?" she asks in confusion, and that seems to propel Blaine out the house and right to her side.
"No, no, honey. We walk you to the bus stop, remember? And then one or both of us will be right there each day to meet you when you come home."
"Can't you drive me?"
"I wanted to," he murmurs, picking her up. "But..."
"You need to do this, Lib," Kurt says kindly, kissing the back of her hand. "All the kids get the bus, sweetie. Livvy will already be on it, waiting. And when you get to school, Jamie will be there, and he will have come on a different bus. It'll be fun, okay? Riding the bus was the best part of school for me," Kurt smiles, purposefully omitting the horrific bus rides he endured as a teenager.
"Did you like the bus, daddy?" Libby asks, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I didn't go on the bus, baby girl. I went to a different type of school, but papa and I think you'll love Emerson. Remember when we went to look around? It was a really happy place."
"And they don't mind me having two daddies?"
"No..." Blaine starts slowly. "But there's more to it than that. It's a great school, okay? A really great school. Plus Livvy will be with you, and you wanted to be together."
"Cause she's my bestest friend."
"Of course," Kurt says cheerfully. "Now let's get walking."
That's what had decided them in the end. Torn between Oak Ridge prep, or Emerson Elementary, they had partially decided on Emerson when Oak Ridge bluntly told them it would be highly likely Libby would be a target of ridicule for having same sex parents, yet seemed reluctant to outline exactly how they would prevent that. Emerson, on the other hand, outright admitted they had never had a child with two dads, or two moms either for that matter, but were open to Blaine and Kurt's suggestions as to how best to deal with the situation, and also put forward a proposal that would see all year groups taught about diversity of family dynamics. They faced stiff opposition from other parents about the proposed teachings, but the school were adamant and eventually the program was rolled out ready for the new academic year. When Wes called and said they had chosen Emerson for Oliva, Blaine and Kurt's minds were made up, and despite it being a public school, and Libby having to travel on a bus, Blaine was confident they had made the right decision.
"She'll be fine," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's fingers as Libby skips along in front of them.
"I know," Blaine nods. "It's just..."
"She's growing up."
"Yeah. And we've never left her. I mean, she's never done daycare, or preschool and now..."
"And now we get three hours to ourselves every morning," Kurt smiles.
"We're supposed to be working," Blaine laughs.
"Oh I'm sure we can allow ourselves one morning of indiscretion," Kurt says with a wink.
"Hmm, c'mere," Blaine growls, grabbing Kurt and kissing along his neck. "I'll race you home."
"We have to actually see our daughter on the bus first," Kurt says, giggling like a school child himself.
"Papa? What do I do if I need the bathroom at school?" Libby asks suddenly, then she turns back to see why there's no response and rolls her eyes when she sees Kurt capture Blaine's lips in a deep kiss. "Papa!" she tries again. "Put him down!"
"Hmm? What? Oh, sorry Lib," Kurt grins, letting go of Blaine and scooping her into his arms. "Daddy just has very kissable lips."
"I know," the little girl says solemnly. "And his beardy scratchy bit tickles when he kisses your neck, doesn't it? I know cause it makes me giggle too."
"I shaved this morning!" Blaine protests, rubbing over his jaw.
"You're still a prickly hedgehog," Libby grins over Kurt's shoulder. "And before I go to bed papa is too, and I have to be kissed goodnight by two prickly hedgehogs. Ew!"
"Right!" Blaine laughs, and dives in, kissing and blowing raspberries into her neck until she's a squirming, giggling mess and they're suddenly at the bus stop.
"Hello," a little girl says, tugging on Libby's shoe, and Kurt sets her gently on her feet. "I'm Melody," the girl carries on, twirling her red hair around her finger.
"Melody like you sing?" Libby asks, all wide eyed wonderment as the other girl nods. "Wow. I want your name. Papa, I want her name."
"Well your name is pretty special, sweetie," Kurt says gently, "why don't you tell Melody?"
"Libby Darling Hummel-Anderson," she says proudly. "After my two grandmas which are died, but one grandma is still alive and she's called grandma."
"Um," Kurt frowns as Blaine snorts. "That's not..."
"Hi." Kurt looks up to find a woman who is clearly Melody's mom, offering her hand. "I'm Stephanie, and I see you've met Melody. Is it your daughter's first day too?"
"Uh yes," Kurt smiles, shaking her hand politely. "I'm Kurt Hummel-Anderson, this is my husband Blaine, and this is our daughter, Libby."
Stephanie's eyes go wide immediately when she realizes, and she gasps softly. "Oh so you're the ones."
"Excuse me?" Kurt asks, a hard edge creeping into his voice. "What?"
"Oh my goodness that sounded so wrong," she gushes, gasping again as her cheeks turn pink. "I didn't mean...I'm really sorry. It's just... We did hear there was a gay couple starting their child at the school. Probably a first for the whole of Ohio," she says, laughing softly. "Um...I didn't mean it how it sounded."
"No, that's okay," Blaine says kindly, coming to the rescue. They're used to this by now. Most places they go, simply no one else is gay. Which is still weird to them, and Kurt and Blaine like to joke that it's because they're hoarding all the gays in Ohio in their own little corner. So far, they've not faced any outright prejudice, though Blaine is positive that the ballet class he tried to enrol Libby for wasn't really full. The principal had seemed quite keen at first until Kurt arrived and Blaine introduced her to his husband, then suddenly no classes had any vacancies. But that aside, most parents they've encountered have made the effort to get to know them and Libby, and if they haven't felt comfortable they've simply backed away. That's Blaine and Kurt's biggest fear now, that the school parents won't be as accepting or tolerant, and that they, or worse, their precious daughter, might face some kind of backlash and abuse.
"We know it's not the usual around here," Kurt adds and Stephanie shakes her head.
"No it's not, but you know what? That really shouldn't make any difference. Your daughter looks adorable," she smiles, looking over to where Libby and Melody stand talking. "You're quite a famous musician, aren't you?" she asks Blaine who blushes enormously and needs Kurt to come to his rescue.
"Yes he is," Kurt says proudly.
"Thought so. You worked with my sister, Kate, a few years back. She used to play clarinet with the New York Philharmonic. You did some joint concerts together, didn't you? Have I got that right?"
"Yes," Blaine says, smiling uncomfortably at the memory of touring with Edward. "I'm concert pianist for the Chicago Symphony."
"That's the one. The crazy Italian man."
"Yes, that's definitely the one," Blaine says, laughing as all thoughts of Edward are forgotten and replaced with his very dear friend.
"Well it's lovely to meet you both," Stephanie smiles. "I hope Libby enjoys her day."
"Thanks, Melody too," Kurt smiles, squeezing Blaine's fingers in excitement at their first parent meeting having gone so well.
"Bus," is all Blaine says morosely as the bright yellow bus rounds the corner and pulls up to the kerb.
"Okay. Hold it together until she's gone," Kurt whispers as Libby comes running up to them.
"Is this my bus? Papa? You didn't tell me about the bathroom. What happens if I need to pee?"
"This is your bus," Kurt confirms, crouching down to her level. "And if you need to pee, you just raise your hand and ask Miss Hunter if you can go, okay? That's all. If you ask nicely, remember to say please, then she will show you where the bathroom is."
"Okay," Libby nods. "And you won't forget to pick me up?"
"No one could ever forget you, baby girl" Blaine says, crouching down alongside Kurt and playing with one of her bouncy pigtails. "Now have lots of fun, okay? And we'll be waiting here for you when you get back."
"Kisses," Kurt announces, kissing her little lips and hugging her tight before Blaine does the same. "We love you, Libby Darling."
"I love you too," the little girl smiles, bounding up the steps where she takes one look at the crowded bus, stops and turns around. "Daddy?" she asks in a small voice, her bottom lip starting to tremble. "I don't think I wanna go."
"Oh baby girl. You do, you do," Blaine says, taking her little body in his arms and holding her tight. "Look, I can see Livvy," he says with forced brightness, as Wes and Kathy's daughter pokes her head over the top of a seat and waves frantically, her black hair and dark eyes seeming to shine with excitement.
"It's Libby!" she proudly tells the entire bus. "And my Blaine! My Blaine, are you coming too?"
"No sweetie," Blaine smiles, now fully on the bus and ushering Libby down the aisle. "But I can give you a quick cuddle if you'd like?"
"Sir?" the driver calls. "I have to go, which means you need to step off the bus."
"Sorry," Blaine calls, quickly squeezing the two girls together and kissing the tops of their heads. "Have fun girls. Love you both."
"Love you daddy!"
"Love you too my Blaine!" Livvy calls, then spies Kurt standing on the sidewalk. "Oh! My Kurt!"
"See him later Liv!" Blaine calls, laughing as he hops from the bus and it drives away, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing hand in hand on the sidewalk, still waving long after it's gone out of sight.
"What is with these people?" Kurt asks as the other parents drift away. "They just seem relieved to get some time on their own."
"Who knows?" Blaine shrugs, wiping away a few stray tears. "Maybe they have work, or maybe it's their second or third kid?" They start to walk home in silence, Blaine feeling very proud of how he's held it together when Kurt tugs gently on his hand. "Yeah?" he asks, but one look at his husband gives him his answer. "Oh Kurt." He folds his husband into his warm embrace and lets him cry, and Kurt fists the back of his shirt as he lets go and really bawls, not caring who hears or sees him.
"It's okay, my gorgeous boy. It's okay. She'll be back before we know it. We'll go home and have coffee, then by the time we've got naked and had our wicked way it'll be time to pick her up again."
Kurt laughs through his tears, accepting the tissue Blaine hands him gratefully and blowing his nose. "She looked so small. And then I saw Livvy, and I didn't get to hug her and..."
"Sweetheart, I know. But really, right now, those two will be talking ten to the dozen about something completely inane, and they'll have such a wonderful time together."
"I knew you two would be like this." Santana pulls over to the kerb, her window down and Blaine sees a sniffling Wes and Kathy in the back. "Get in. I'm taking you losers for coffee."
"We have plans," Blaine protests, but Santana just rolls her eyes.
"You have three hours, Blaine. You shouldn't need that long at your age. Now get in."
"I saw Livvy," Blaine sniffles, sliding in the backseat next to Wes.
"Was she okay?" he asks anxiously. "It's like, three stops until she gets to you. I was worried she wouldn't be able to save Libby a spot..."
"No, it's good. They were sitting together."
"I told you," Kathy says brightly. "That's my girl. No doubt she yelled at anyone who dared try to sit next to her."
"Hey, Kurt, you okay?" Santana asks, glancing over to where Kurt rests his head against the window, silent tears making their way slowly down his cheeks.
"No," he answers morosely. "She's too small to be starting kindergarten. She must be. It feels like it was five minutes since we held her in our arms."
Blaine reaches forward, his hand coming to rest on Kurt's shoulder, where he takes it and holds on tight.
"Good morning class!" Miss Hunter calls brightly to the group of children gathered on the floor in front of her. "And welcome to Kindergarten. So, I thought it would be nice if we all took turns introducing ourselves and talking a little bit about where we live, what we like to do in our free time, that sort of thing. I'll begin." She smiles happily as twenty two children started up at her in awe and she continues. "I'm Miss Hunter, and I'm twenty seven years old. I live in downtown Columbus with my sister, Jenny and my cat, Moses. I like reading, painting and cooking, and my favorite food is...cupcakes! Okay, who wants to go next?"
Libby and Oliva sit side by side, holding hands and listening as tentatively a small boy named Tyson stands and takes his turn. They sit through a few more before Olivia- always the more confident of the pair, raises her hand and gets called to the front.
"My name is Olivia and I'm five," she starts. "But everyone calls me Livvy or Liv, so I match with Libby," she says proudly, gesturing to the little girl sitting quietly on the carpet. "She's my best friend and our dad's are best friends too. I live in Westerville, three blocks away from Libby and my Blaine and my Kurt. My daddy teaches math and my mommy sits in front of a computer tapping numbers on it. Um...I like to feed ducks with Libby, I like it when my mommy makes cupcakes with us and I like it when me and my daddy go to the grocery store because then I can choose whatever cereal I want. The end."
"Well thank you, Olivia," Miss Hunter says with a laugh. "Libby? Would you like to take your turn?"
Libby nods, feeling a little worried to stand in front of the whole class, and really wishing her daddy and papa were there to hold her hand. But she tiptoes to the front, and Miss Hunter- fast becoming a firm favorite in Libby's affections- smiles encouragingly and she takes a deep breath.
"My name is Libby Darling Hummel-Anderson," she says, smiling and feeling proud.
"No it's not!" one girl calls. "It's too long."
"It is," Libby insists, and she can hear an uptight Livvy turning around to snap at the child.
"Okay class!" Miss Hunter claps her hands together, "I can assure you, that is Libby's name, and I happen to think it rather beautiful. Now, let her carry on. No interruptions please, if you have any questions they can wait for the end."
"Um.." Libby says, her confidence dented by the girl. "Well. I live with my daddy and my papa in Westerville," she says, buoyed again by the very thought. "And our cat, Martin. My daddy plays piano for Rick in Chicago, and my papa makes costumes and they're the best costumes in the world. He makes mine and Livvy's Halloween outfits every year and we always look the best, and he makes us clothes too. I like to sing when my daddy plays piano at home, my favourite book is The Lonely Fire Truck, and I like playing baseball in the yard. Livvy is my best friend and Wes and Kathy look after me sometimes and we always spend holidays together. Oh. I have a massive family!" she continues brightly, on a roll now. "There's grandma and grandpa, grandad, Uncle Finn and Aunt Rachel, Aunt Santana, Sebastian, Brittany, Joe and Maddie, Uncle Cooper and Aunt Clare, Nick, Jeff, Taylor..."
"Okay sweetie," Miss Hunter says brightly. "That's wonderful."
"And my most favorite things in the whole wide world are kisses from my daddy and my papa," she finishes, smiling happily. "There."
"Miss Hunter?" a boy calls.
"Yes Jacob?"
"Does Libby live with her daddy more or her papa? Because I live with my daddy two days and my mom and pop for the rest."
"Oh. Um.."
"I live with both of them all the time," Libby says, frowning slightly. "We all live in the same house."
"So where does your mommy live?" the boy asks, confused.
"I don't have a mommy," Libby shrugs. "I have a daddy and a papa."
"Everyone has a mommy," another girl chimes in. "You're lying."
"She is not!" Livvy erupts angrily. "She has two daddies!"
"Class!" Miss Hunter calls desperately, but Libby steps up again and calls loudly.
"I have two daddies and no mommy. My daddies love each other like a mommy and a daddy love each other," she says, recalling what Blaine and Kurt have told her so many times. "They married each other, and they have the same bedroom just like any parents do, and I growed in Aunt Santana's tummy and she gave me to my daddies."
"So she's your mommy?" the same girl asks. "I told you she was lying."
"Class!" Miss Hunter is firm, rising to her feet and waiting until there is calm. "Thank you. Now, I would ask you all to listen to me please." She sits in her chair again and pulls Libby onto her lap, sensing the little girl is shaken and needs all the support she can get. "Libby is not a liar, thank you, Emily. I want you all to listen very carefully to what I'm going to say here, because this is important. Everyone on this carpet will have a different type of family. Most of you will live with a mommy and a daddy, and that's great. Some will have brothers and sisters, some won't. Some will have grandparents, but some won't. Some people have pets, but some people don't, and that's also fine. Now. Some children here will have a mom and dad who don't live in the same house. Some, like Jacob, will live with their daddy on weekends, say, and their mommy and pop during the week. Some children, like Libby, have two daddies who live in the same house, or two mommies. And that is also a family, just as anyone else has.
Just as some of you like the color pink, and some like the color red, so different people love different types of people too. Some girls love boys, but some girls love girls. Some boys love girls, but some boys love other boys. Some people love both boys and girls. Whoever you choose to love, and maybe even marry, it doesn't matter. You can love whoever you want. Libby's daddies love each other, and Libby, very much. I know this, because I've met them, and I can see how happy they are. Santana, who Libby mentioned, let Libby grow inside her tummy, because a baby has to grow in a woman. But Santana is not Libby's mom. Libby has two daddies, and that's it. She is a very lucky girl to have such a wonderful, loving family, what ever it's shape, and I don't ever want to hear anyone telling her otherwise, is that clear?"
A chorus of mumbled "yes Miss Hunter," comes, and the teacher ushers Libby gently back into place, and mentally braces herself for the string of parent complaints she knows she will receive tomorrow.
Libby settles back next to Livvy, who takes her hand, and she is pleasantly surprised when Melody from the bus stop leans over and takes her other hand too. Jamie- whom she's known since babyhood from their music and swimming lessons, ushers closer and surrounded by friends, Libby relaxes a little even as her bottom lip trembles. "I don't think I like Kindergarten very much," she whispers to Livvy, who nods.
"That girl? The one who called you a liar? I'm gonna find her at recess and kick her in the shins."