Chapter 50: Maybe

Burt read Kurt's name on his phone, and jabbed the call icon. "What's wrong?"

Kurt laughed. "A guy can't call his father for no reason?"

Burt slumped back in his office chair, relief singing through him. Kurt was fine. "Well, maybe some guys can. But my son only Skypes Sunday morning, after he manages to drag himself out of bed. My son doesn't call on a Wednesday afternoon, at lunchtime. So, what's going on?"

"Okay, yeah, I need an opinion. Do you have a minute?"

Burt flipped the folder on his desk closed. "I'm in Congress, Kurt. Things move around here with the speed of a glacier. Talk."

Kurt filled Burt in on the upcoming visit and the distance between Nigel and his Dad. "Nigel's hurting, and I have to help. I thought you might have some insight into his Dad."

"They don't talk?"

"From what Nigel tells me, they talk like strangers. Nigel says his father hasn't looked him in the eye since he came out to him."

Burt rubbed a hand over his head, reaching for the baseball cap that he didn't wear in Washington. "I'd like to help, Kurt, but I don't know the guy. Maybe he's just uninformed and uncomfortable. Or he thinks he screwed up as a father if his son is gay. Or he thinks it's immoral and unchristian. Everyone has different hot buttons. You wouldn't believe how many times people pull me aside at dinners and charity things and tell me about their family struggles over this. I think I've heard everything by now. The only way you can help is to find out what his issues are. He has to talk." Burt paused, and let out a sigh. "And Kurt, even if you can get him to open up, that doesn't mean anything will change. I'm sorry Nigel has to deal with this, but he's got you, and he has us. He knows that, right?"

Kurt felt tears lock his throat up. He had the best father in the world. "Thanks, Dad. I'll tell him." Kurt checked his watch. "I've got to go. Swim class for my four year-olds."

"Okay, good luck this weekend."

Kurt opened the fridge door, and stared at empty shelves. They really had to buy groceries one day. He could order pizza, or maybe omelets? The phone rang as he took the carton of eggs out of the fridge. "Hello"

"Kurt?"

"Hi, Claire. Sorry, Nigel's not home yet."

"I know. I called to talk to you."

As he talked, Kurt got out an onion, cheese and mushrooms. "Let me guess. You want to talk about 'The Visit'."

"Kurt, they're making me crazy. Both of them are so freaking stubborn! I know Dad loves Nigel. They have to talk."

Kurt started to chop the onion, the cordless wedged against his shoulder. "Claire, it's Thursday night, you are flying out here tomorrow, and Nigel hasn't even agreed to see your father yet. You think he's going to talk?"

"That's where you come in."

Kurt started on the mushrooms. "No way, Claire! You're not putting me in the middle of this. I don't need Nigel mad at me too."

"Don't give me that crap, Kurt. I know you. I know you're just dying to fix this for Nigel."

Kurt put the knife down, and moved the phone from his shoulder to his ear. "Busted! Look, I won't tell Nigel what to do, but I can give him my opinion. I can suggest he talk to his father."

"That's all I'm asking for, Kurt. Thank you."

"Even if Nigel does decide to try and talk to your father, and that's a big if, Claire. Talking takes two people."

"I know, I know. I'm working on it. Hang on a sec."

Kurt heard some rustling and then Angie's voice. "Kurt, we're going on a plane!"

"I know. You have to tell me if you see any clouds."

"Clouds, mommy! Kurt says we can see clouds. Are you and Uncle Nigel coming swimming with us?"

Kurt heard Claire telling Angie to say goodbye. "Bye, Kurt. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, sweetie." Kurt was still smiling when Claire came back on the phone.

"I promised the kids I'd take them to the hotel pool after dinner tomorrow night. You can tell Nigel it will be safe, Dad won't be there. He can't handle all the splashing and the screaming."

"Sounds good. I'll tell Nigel."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Claire."

Kurt had done the prep work, but Nigel made the omelets. When Kurt tried, they came out scrambled. Kurt sat at one of the counter stools, and watched Nigel flip the eggs. "Angie wants us to go swimming with her and Tommy at the hotel tomorrow night."

Nigel's eyes checked with Kurt. "Is my fa … "

"No, Claire says he won't be at the pool. Too much noise."

"Sure, it's been so freaking hot lately, a pool sounds good." Nigel slid the omelets onto plates, and joined Kurt at the counter.

"Nigel … "

"Don't want to talk about it, Kurt."

"You realize they're coming here for dinner Saturday night."

Nigel dropped his fork. They both jumped at the discordant clang. "Who says they're coming for dinner?"

Kurt didn't have to say anything. He just looked at Nigel.

"Claire!"

Kurt shrugged. "Your mother wants to see where you live."

Nigel pushed food around on his plate while he thought about that. "Well, I can't tell my mother she can't see my apartment, can I?"

"Nope."

"Claire's a manipulative pain in the ass."

"She cares about you." Kurt pushed his plate away, and turned on his stool, to face Nigel. "It's a small apartment, Nigel. It's going to be pretty hard to avoid your father. I think you should take this opportunity to talk to him. Find out what his problem is."

Nigel snorted. "I think it's pretty obvious that his problem is me."

My father says everyone comes to this with their own baggage. If we find out exactly what's bothering your father so much, maybe we can fix this."

Nigel slipped a hand around the back of Kurt's neck, and drew him in for a quick kiss.

Kurt smiled, and traced a finger over Nigel's lips. "What was that for?"

"Because you said 'we'. We can fix this."

Kurt slipped off his stool, and stood between Nigel's legs. "Of course, it's we."

Nigel pulled his boyfriend closer, his hands clasped together at the small of Kurt's back. "I don't know if I can do it, Kurt. Talk to my father. But I'll try."