{Kurt}

Cary was rummaging through the house for all his Christmas boxes before lunch was even done. Jon pulled on his work hoodie and kissed Kurt good bye, in a hurry to get away to the University library before his shift at three. Kurt hummed to himself as he cleaned up their lunch dishes and the pots from supper the night before, an only slightly awkward dinner with Jon's folks. Kurt hadn't decided if he liked Jon's dad yet. Pete White smiled too much for Kurt to trust him; no one was really that happy all the time.

When the doorbell rang, he hollered up to the attic. "Douglas! Expecting someone?"

"Christmas helper elves!" Cary hollered back. "Just let them in!"

Bemused, Kurt opened the door. Bea White crinkled her eyes up at him, her hands shoved in her puffy mustard-yellow parka, a candy-striped knitted cap shoved over her mop of hair. Her parent's van was sitting at the curb, and Kurt gave Mel White a wave as she pulled away.

"If it isn't my second favorite White," Kurt said.

Bea's grin widened. "Hi Kurt. Are you helping decorate the house today?"

"I believe I am." Kurt swept his arm into the hall. "Come right in."

The house rumbled as Cary thundered down two sets of stairs, a pair of large red and green rubber totes in his arms. "Honey Bee, you're just in time. Got totes one and two right here and I'm going digging for number three." He set them in the middle of the floor and engulfed her in a hug.

"It's in the shed," Bea said, popping the lid off one of the totes to reveal layers of tissue paper, and tightly wrapped balls of twinkle lights. "With the outdoor manger scene, remember? We don't need it until next Sunday anyways. I organized everything in these two for the first week of Advent."

Cary grinned, holding out his fist for her to dap his knuckles. "And that is why you are my number one helper elf. Is Tab coming today?"

Bea shook her head. "But she says she'll be here for the toy tree on the third for sure. She has homework." She wrinkled her nose. "High school sounds hard."

Misty padded into the room, weaving around the totes with her tail making a question mark. Cary shooed her with a wave of his big hand. "Don't even think about it, cat. You have your own toys. These are mine."

Looking at the totes full of glitter and goodness, Kurt sensed a party about to happen. "Should I find us some Christmas music? Do we need snacks?"

Cary laughed soundlessly. "Got snacks already. Play us something festive, Visser, it is my favourite time of year."

Kurt never imagined someone could have his mother beat for Christmas swag, but as they unpacked totes one and two--apparently just a fraction of the Christmas decorations Cary had squirrelled away in the house storage closets and back shed--he had to admit the big man was a serious competitor.

"Here's the attic tree!" Bea pulled out a 2-foot tree made of gold tinsel, on a cork stand. "We'll do her first, come on Kurt." She scooped a shoe box under her arm and Kurt followed her up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Bea flipped on the desk lamp in Cary's attic studio, finding the switch with the ease of familiarity. She hunted along his desk ledge until she found a little protruding screw, and rotated the tree onto it securely. Humming under her breath to the Christmas carols they could hear floating up from the living room, she straightened the wire branches and fluffed them up. "There we go--Cary's tiny tree," she said. "Now for the tiny ornaments." She lifted the lid of the shoe box and held it out for Kurt to see.

Lying in tissue paper was a collection of puffy paper stars and delicate snowflakes, hung with thread. "These are adorable," Kurt said reverently, taking one to drape it on a tinsel-y branch.

Her grin flashed, making her eyes sparkle. "Me and Tabby made them--the year the brothers moved in here."

Kurt was thoroughly enjoying the avalanche of White family nostalgia--it had been some years since he'd had anything resembling a family Christmas.

"So," Bea said. "Kurt. Are you going to marry my brother?"

Kurt's eyebrows flicked up and his ears warmed as she looked frankly at him, over the glittery tree. Her wide hazel eyes were so very much like Jon's, but clear to the bottom, everything open for anyone to read.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You're living together already. Which...I think mom and dad are trying to be okay with because they like you. I just thought that meant you were getting married."

"Uhhh--" Kurt wished he had Cary here to give him a clue how to proceed. "We are living together," he said cautiously. "But I have my own room and I sleep in my own bed." He didn't mention that Jon usually slept in that bed with him, grateful that he was not half the blusher his boyfriend was.

Bea kept glancing at him as she hung the little ornaments, placing each one carefully. "Do you not want to marry Jon? Is it his stinky feet? His shoes smell the worst. The whole house smells better without him now."

Kurt laughed. "You know, I hadn't noticed. Maybe his hygiene has improved since he moved out." He plucked a handful of paper stars out of the box, their thread loops a tangled ball, hoping Bea would let it go.

She was persistent. "Is it something else then?"

Kurt settled in the armchair, picking at the knot of thread without looking at her. "I don't think your brother is allowed to marry me, Honey Bee. Even if he wanted that. His job says he has to marry a woman--or stay single."

"Oh. I didn't know that," she said blankly. "That's why he's not out anymore? He can't be gay to work there?"

Kurt sighed--he'd smushed one of the paper stars trying to work it free and he was in danger of tearing another. He laid the tangled mess on the chair arm, giving up. "Yeah, pretty much."

"That seems dumb," Bea said.

"Well I don't make the rules--clearly." Kurt threw his hands in the air, getting to his feet. He leaned over Cary' desk, rattling in a jar of pencils for a pair of scissors. Painstakingly, he snipped the fragile ornaments free from the knotted threads and laid them back in the tissue. "We maybe need a better way to store these so they don't get tangled for next year."

"For sure." Bea smiled at him. "I like you, you know. If I get to pick who joins my family, I'm team Visser all the way."

He smiled back, his heart lifting again. "Well I like you right back, Bea White."

They topped the tinsel tree with a folded paper star studded with sequins and outlined with puffy glitter glue. Bea had to fiddle with a paper clip to secure it, and it was still a little crooked when she stood back to admire it, her hands on her hips. "Perfect," she said. "Let's do the next one!"

The second floor tree was a stainless steel triangle with jumbo colored lights screwed into the frame. Bea held it up for Kurt to admire it, before threading it onto the screw in the window frame and spinning the nut. "Cary made this in shop class. It used to go in his window at home; now it goes here."

Kurt plugged it into the wall and they both 'oohed' at the warm glow of the red and green and yellow lights reflecting off the window pane.

"A little Christmas cheer for the neighbours," Kurt said. He glanced into Jon's room; it was tidier than usual after his 2 days off--the bed was made and the laundry piled on top was clean instead of dirty. "Does Jon usually help you with all this?"

Bea see-sawed her hand back and forth. "December isn't Jon's favourite. Not like me and Tab and Cary." She tugged her knitted cap more firmly on her head and galloped down the stairs, Kurt practically skipping behind her.

They found Cary in a sea of twinkle lights, his long legs sprawled out on the floor and his fingers fiddling with the tiny light bulbs to replace the broken or burnt out ones. Misty was on her back, playing with the end of one of the darkened strings. Abruptly the string blinked to life, wrapped around her furry tummy, and she wriggled free and dashed away.

"I'm ready for snacks," Bea announced.

Cary flashed her a grin. "Help yourself: chips in the cupboard, mandarins on the table, and meat and cheese in the drawer of the fridge."

Bea pulled open the fridge door and her eyes widened with delight. "Nog of the egg!"

Kurt chuckled, pulling down plates and cups. "I'm ready for snacks and egg nog. I can see that good parties are a White family trait."

"Any Christmas traditions you want to do with us this year, Visser?" Cary glanced at him. "This isn't just a White family party anymore."

Kurt flipped his hand dismissively, glancing at Bea's narrow shoulders crossed with her overall straps. He and Nicky spent the holidays mostly wasted and usually needed all of January to recover. "None that are suitable for children. I'm a clean slate this year."

"I'm not a child," Bea said a little snappily. "I'm turning thirteen."

From the living room, Cary huffed a quiet laugh.

"Well darlin'," Kurt said, more comfortable with his dirty laundry aired out than in. "Then I guess you're old enough to know I been drinking on Christmas since I was about as tall as you and that's not a tradition I plan to carry on. What else do the Whites do for Christmas?"

Satisfied that every bulb was twinkling bright, Cary was laying the strings in long stripes side by side on the floor. "Whites don't do Christmas much before the 24th."

"Yes we do," Bea protested around a quarter of orange. "You hang the outdoor lights up with dad every year as soon as the forecast calls for snow. And you put up the trees the first weekend of Advent and light them, and then we decorate the toy tree on the third."

Cary glanced at her, his dark eyebrows lowered even though his mouth was relaxed in an almost-smile. "Yuh. I do Christmas before the 24th. Your family don't."

Bea's mouth rounded in an 'o' as this seemed to dawn on her for the first time. "Oh my gosh, Cary. You're our Christmas' spirit. If you weren't in my family I would never have a Christmas tree before White family cry day."

Kurt glanced up from his plate of meat and crackers, thinking he had misheard. "Hm, what now? White family cry day?"

Bea thumped her elbows on the table and put her chin in her hands. "Judah and Jon's birthday. We have a party and mom and dad tell stories and cry. Usually me and Tab cry too because they're crying. And Cary even. Just a little, but I see you."

"Pete crying makes me cry," Cary said gruffly. He got to his feet, stretching his shoulders back, and stumped into the kitchen. "Want a coffee, Visser?"

But Kurt was staring at them both, baffled. "Who's Judah?" he asked.

Cary' big hands went still, the coffee scoop poised over the bag as he looked at Kurt. "Judah is Jon's brother. He never told you yet?"

Kurt shrugged his shoulders up, rubbing his chest. "Nope." He laughed uncomfortably. "I did make a real attempt to pickle my brain for a couple years there, but I think I would have remembered if Jon had a brother. What happened to him?" His eyebrows knit together and he looked expectantly at Cary.

Cary went back to making the coffee. "He died of cancer when they were kids. Uh--how old was Judah?" he asked Bea.

"Eight," she said. "Jon was six. I was never born yet and neither was Tab."

Cary glanced back at Kurt, frowning. "I can't believe he didn't tell you. Half of who Jon is is what not bein' Judah made him."

That hit Kurt with a wave of feelings, and he crossed his arms against his body, trying not to overreact to the realization that the man he loved hadn't shared something this important with him--and that Cary knew everything about Jon. As usual.

"Well." Cary turned aside, adjusting the pour-over cone. "He must've thought you knew already."

Taking a steadying breath, Kurt tried to put the pieces of this story together without getting lost in his emotions. "And there's a day the Whites all cry about that?"

Cary nodded once. "Judah's birthday, December 10th. Jon and Judah always had their parties together because the dates are so close. So that's what his parents still do."

Kurt paused, absorbing that. "Wait. So you're telling me...my boyfriend, who hates to cry, has a birthday party every year that everyone cries at."

"Jon doesn't cry," Bea said quietly. "Not usually."

Kurt met Cary's eyes with a look that said: what the hell kind of birthday is that for Jon? Cary's mouth was flat, and he ducked his head.

Kurt made himself shake it off and laugh. "Well sounds like my kind of party. I love a good cry. Am I invited?"

Bea's smile returned and she smacked his arm. "Of course you're invited! It's Jon's birthday and you're Jon's boyfriend. You have to come or it won't be fun for Jon at all."

"I'll be there with bells on. And lots of tissues." Kurt got to his feet to sugar up the steaming cup of coffee Cary had just set aside for him. By the sounds of it, there was no way that birthday was fun for Jon, whether he was there or not.

Cary glanced out the window, then dumped his coffee into a travel mug. "Honey Bee, you good and fed up? We better get the big tree before the sun goes down or we'll be picking in the dark."

Bea jumped to her feet, her fists in the air. "Yessss. My favourite part! Tab is gonna be so jealous she missed this."

They crammed into the entryway to put on coats and hats and scarves and boots, and the feeling of being part of a crowd of people cheered Kurt up completely. In Cary's truck, with Bea between them, he sang along to the Christmas songs on the radio, making up the lyrics when he didn't know the words. Bea laughed until her face was as red as the stripes on her cap and Kurt realized too late that he'd been filling in some very suggestive lines without considering the age of his listener. Cary was tapping his fingers on the wheel, for once Kurt thought just keeping time with the music, a grin in his beard.

They drove past at least two smaller tree lots before Cary pulled into the parking lot of a massive greenhouse building. The sidewalk in front of the store entrance was festooned with evergreen branches, and a maze of different styles of Christmas decorations, from chubby pink Christmas pigs with feathery wings, to a glossy red sleigh full of poinsettias and gifts. There was even a collection of giant lanterns, one as tall as Bea.

Cary gave the doors a yearning look. "Maybe I'll just look around for a minute," he said to Bea.

She reached up to grab the front of his jacket, tugging him firmly towards the fenced area with wrapped evergreen trees stacked in bundles. "No way. Remember what you said last year? If you buy one more thing we'll need to rent a storage unit. All we need is a tree--a big, beautiful tree."

Cary sighed and allowed her to drag him away from the store front, while Kurt chuckled. Everyone had their vices; apparently Christmas was Cary Douglas' weakness.

The tree lot smelled amazing, the scent of pine sap and wood shavings sharp in the cold air. Kurt wandered up and down the rows of bundled trees, fingering the branches of the white pine and silver fir, surprisingly soft and tender in spite of their needle-y appearance. Under the strings of glowing incandescent bulbs, Cary's dark, bulky form leaned over Bea's colourful figure while they examined first one tree, then another, dickering over the selling points.

Next year they should do this on Jon's day off, Kurt thought. He stuck his chilly fingers in the pockets of his pea coat, smiling as he imagined Jon here with him, his shoulder bumping Kurt's as they walked side by side, stealing a sideways look to catch Kurt's eye like he often did, just the hint of a smile on his full mouth.

God it was easy to imagine spending another fifty-two weeks with Jon next to him. Next year Kurt could unpack the Christmas totes with Cary and Bea and know where everything went.

Ages ago, Kurt had started a Pinterest board for his dream wedding: a great big fabulously gay affair. All the dresses, all the flower arrangements, all the reception menus... He'd even filled an entire board with grooms-wear, with Nicky in mind. Something he had never considered, as he clicked through images of wedding dresses and white tuxes, was the way a wedding meant joining not only two people, but two families together for the long haul. His own family wouldn't be caught dead at their son's great big gay wedding. And Nicky only had his elderly dad in a nursing home left. Their imaginary wedding was like a rainbow-festooned ship sailing off into the future, unmoored from any family history or connections.

Kurt shivered and shook out his shoulders. He'd deleted that Pinterest account along with everything else, right? The idea of being alone in a marriage to Nicky sounded more like a nightmare than a dream to Kurt now. At the time he'd thought a) he could weather the drama and b) he wasn't going to find anything better.

He still could hardly believe he was the man Jon White wanted to hold hands with in church. It wasn't even December and Kurt already had everything on his Christmas list; if it was up to him he would happily have adopted himself into a family with Cary Douglas and Bea White.

He pulled himself back from that thought before it got away on him, stomping his feet to warm his toes in his boots. That felt very close to the kind of fantasy that Kurt Visser loved to spin in his imagination. He was just self-aware enough to know he had to live in reality; he couldn't handle the heartbreak of building something up in his mind before it all came crashing down again. Not if he wanted to stay sober.

"Visser!" Cary called. "We need your eye." Bea was holding one tree with the help of a greenhouse staff person, and Cary was holding another, their cheeks nipped pink with cold.

Bea swept her mittened hand in front of her tree. "This is a balsam fir."

"And this is a silver fir," Cary said, giving his a little shake. Both trees were enormous, topping Cary by at least a foot. The wrappings had been cut free and their dark green branches were open, bare and full of potential.

Kurt circled around the trees to check every angle. "What colour are you putting on them?" he asked Cary. Both trees had been shaved to a pleasing full shape, tapering to a point, but one tree had warm yellow-green branches, and the other was more silvery green.

"Uhh," Cary glanced at Bea. "We did red and gold last year."

Bea bounced from foot to foot, the pointed tip of her hat bobbing. "Let's do something non-standard for once. Purple? Pink?"

Cary's face slowly lit up. "Yuh. I would have to buy a few things..."

Kurt put his fingers to his mouth, imagining a feathery, glittery, purple and pink tree in his very own living room. "Be still my gay heart. This one then." He pointed to the tree Cary was holding.

"Done," Cary said, and hefted it onto his shoulder to carry to the truck. "Do I have time to shop today?" He called back, his face buried in silvery branches.

"No," Bea said shortly, handing off her tree to the gentleman in a reflective vest and a 'Creekside Gardens' name-tag. "Mom's picking me up at seven." She nudged Kurt's arm as they tagged after Cary to the truck. "Do not let him in there unless you're ready to lose six hours of your life on Christmas doo-dads."

Kurt laughed. "You've never shopped with us, clearly. I'm your brother's perfect wingman."

*Bea is the perfect addition to these scenes--I love her innocent energy <3

One of the things lost in the For Us edit is the scene when Kurt joins Jon's folks for a family supper for the first time, and I feel that gap here. Be sure to go back and read that bonus scene at the end of For Us!

When I get around to an edit of this book, I'd like to add Kurt's first edgy, tentative attempt to get along with Pete and Mel to these early chapters.

What do you think about the idea of Kurt joining Jon's family? I wonder what needs to happen for him to get over his dislike of Pete...*

3537 words.