Thanks to AdamPascalFan for the Beta-job and the idea for the title! The title is based on the Idina Menzel song by the same name. If you haven't heard it yet, I highly recommend that you give the song a listen. It's available on youtube.

Burt Hummel was dead on his feet, and all he wanted to do was sit in his chair and grab a cold beer as soon as nobody was watching. It had been a long day. Things had been crazier than usual, and now he had a wedding to deal with. Well, really it was Carole was dealing with the wedding on her end. She'd told him earlier today they were due at a ring-fitting at the jeweler's tomorrow afternoon. She'd asked Kurt to help with the particulars at Burt's suggestion, so he really wasn't surprised to see her car in the driveway when he pulled up.

Kurt had been thrilled. He nearly fluttered when they told both of their boys at school.

He was about to open the door and greet his two favorite people, but the sound of muffled voices stopped him in his tracks.

"You can't decorate for Christmas, Carole," Kurt was saying. "For one thing, red and green? Can we GET any tackier? Second of all, I don't really believe…and..."

"What's the real reason?" Carole asked, almost too softly for Burt to make out on the other side of the door.

"Mom used to do that sort of stuff…" Kurt admitted in a small voice.

"Oh…" Carole said softly.

It never occurred to him that his boy might have a problem.

"Oh, honey," Carole's voice rang out from the other side of the door. "You know I'm not trying to take her place, right?"

Kurt was silent for a minute. Burt thought he heard him choke down a few sobs.

"I know, it's stupid…it's not like she cares, right?" The bitterness in his son's voice made Burt feel completely helpless.

"It's not stupid. Not at all. It's a big thing, getting a new parent…" she stopped herself. "Parent-figure and a new brother just like that. You love your mom. As you should. And if it helps? Finn basically told me the same thing last night. And he never even KNEW his dad. Not really. You had your mom for eight years. And Kurt?" Carole said. The sound of his son blowing his nose loudly rang out.

"Thank you for setting us up."

Burt grinned. He'd have to thank Kurt for that, too. But he had someone else he needed to talk to first.

Burt made a stop at the flower-shop to pick up a bouquet of callilies. Something he hadn't gotten in eight years.

His Molly had loved them.

Their scent brought back so many memories. Their first date. Their first wedding. The last time he saw her beautiful green-blue eyes.

And now he was laying them again at her grave.

Burt hated cemeteries.

They were rows and rows of reminders that people…living people mostly wanted to forget.

As if Burt could ever forget something like Molly Sullivan Hummel. The graveside was almost eight years old, and it had been a while since he stood at the foot of his wife's headstone.

He almost came by to visit after his heart attack, because he was pretty sure that the only way he got out of that one alive was somehow because of her. But he just never got around to it.

But this was important.

He needed to make sure Molly Hummel understood.

"So, Mols," he began, clearing his throat. "I know, it's kinda been awhile, and I'm sorry about that. Kurt's doin' good. Real good. I see you in him every damn day and it makes me wish things could be different sometimes, you know. Makes me wish you couldda seen the kind of kid he's become. The kinda man he's turnin' into. Maybe you can, I don't know. But he's a good kid."

"I don't know where the hell it came from, because God knows neither one of us have much of a voice, but Kurt can sing. I mean, he can sing. You should hear him, Molly. It's really somethin'. I didn't find that out until last year when I heard him. He didn't know I was listening until after he finished. Honestly, Mols, I think sometimes he doesn't realize I'm listening to him at all. He won't say he is, but I think he's havin' a rough time at school these days. Those jack-asses are givin' him hell, and I hate it that I can't do a Goddamn thing about it. Sorry for the language, Molly, I know you hated it when I get all potty-mouthed, but I just…get so damn frustrated, you know?"

He shuffled his feet and sucked in a deep breath. It was cold, and Burt could see his own breath, which was more of a ghost than anything else in that cemetery, but still, he could help but feel a bit nervous. Molly's beautiful blue-green eyes smiling up at him from the photograph of her on her headstone didn't help, either.

"Anyway, I know you'd be proud of him. He takes care of me pretty good. We take care of each other. And I'm here because, well, I wanted to tell ya somethin'…"

He looked down, unable to look his wife's picture in the eye.

"I'm gettin' hitched," he said as fast as he possibly could. "I KNOW, crazy, right? Someone besides you willin' to put up with a crazy old fool like yours truly? There's nobody better than you, babe, but Carole's really somethin' else. And Kurt's the one who made that happen. I don't think he intended it for it to turn out the way it did. But you know our boy was never exactly good at the whole plannin' thing."

"So…what can I tell you about Carole? She's…pretty great. She works hard. She's been a single mom since her husband got killed in Iraq when her kid was one. Her kid's name is Finn, and he's about Kurt's age. He's a good guy. On the football team. In Kurt's glee club. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but it's nice to have someone around to talk sports with. He and Kurt are having a hard time getting used to the whole idea of being brothers, but I think given some time, they'll adjust."

"Carole really cares about Kurt. Almost as much as she does her own kid, and in fact, she's kinda the reason why I'm here right now. You should know that you will always be the mother of my kid. You will always be my bride. Nothin's gonna change that. Nobody's ever going to replace you. But Kurt's loved. I never thought I'd find love anyone again after you, but I did. We're taken care of. It's not you. She can never be as great as you, but I'm happy. Carole makes me happy."

He took the ring off his finger. He grimaced as he struggled to remove the band of gold from his now-much-thicker finger. For awhile, he thought he'd have to get it surgically removed, and it had taken some work, but Burt finally managed to get it off.

Gently, he laid it on her tombstone.

"I never thought I'd take that thing off," he said. He kissed his fingertips and then placed them on her cold, still, lifeless picture. "I miss you, Molls." He whispered.

He was shaken out of his reverie by his cell phone buzzing.

"Yeah, hon," he told his fiancée. "I'm on my way home. Just had to stop off somewhere. I'll be there in a bit."

Eyes stinging with tears, he pulled away from the cemetery hoping that Kurt wouldn't notice the band of white skin where the band of gold used to be. They were getting fitted for rings day after tomorrow.

A song Kurt had blared more times than he cared to count suddenly came to mind. He didn't know who it was, all he knew that it was what he'll say to his wife next time he paid her a visit:

You'd be surprised I've loved you all along.

You'd be surprised I now confess when I am wrong,

And I see the world around me in a slightly softer shade."