How else was he supposed to get Kurt to study? He couldn't believe the kid was lying to him about studying this whole time!
(Well, no, actually, he could. Hadn't he and Ellie used that premise an awful lot when they were dating? But still...)
But the silent treatment (oh, another way in which he was like Ellie) had gone on too long and it was getting to be a little much, even for Burt. Even before he knew what he was doing, he was heading up to their room. He knew he should probably move his late wife's dresser eventually--especially if he was going to keep seeing Carol--but he couldn't seem to let this go, not yet.
He opened the top drawer. Her things were still in there, her makeup and perfume and her hair things. It still smelled like her. He put his elbows on the top of the dresser, and his head in his hand.
"God, Ells. I wish I knew what to do with our boy. Everything I do, I seem to mess up. He's not speaking to me right now. It's been days. I know he's in pain, and I know he's hurting, but he won't talk to me about any of it.
"I wish like hell you were here. He'd talk to you. I know he would. He probably wouldn't be failing math if you were here too. I just wish I knew what I was doing with him. I don't want to fail him."
He leaned his head on the dresser, against the white lace dresser scarf. "I miss you, Ellie, every day. More than anything." He shoved his palms against his eyes before the tears fell. If there was anything Burt hated more than crying, he didn't know what it was.