A/N: So, this is in honor of that new GG we might be getting in the future! This is my take on what those glorious new episodes will be like. I read all of Rory's men will be included, so I will be doing the same here. I also will try to throw in as many GG characters as I can. If you've read my other GG stories you know I do like writing my fair share of GG characters, so they'll make an appearance eventually! Hope you enjoy this :D
All Things Must Pass
Rory was lying in her bed reading the latest New York Times on her tablet when she got the phone call. Her coworkers always made fun of her for actually having her own subscription to the New York Times, mainly because she worked there and unlimited access to the paper was on of the very limited perks offered to staff writers. She'd had her subscription since high school, though, when her grandfather guffawed at the sheer amount of capital she put into her newspaper stand ventures each week. One week after he'd heard the startling figures, she showed up to Friday night dinner only to leave with fully paid subscriptions to the four big newspapers she frequented – The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, The Chicago Tribune, and The New York Times. She couldn't bring herself to cancel the subscription when she landed her job at the Times. It was a tie to a world that she didn't have anymore. She missed the simplicity of school. When she could actually make Friday night dinner without moving hell and high water.
When she got the call, she couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to dinner. Maybe around November? Or was that Thanksgiving? Holidays historically did not count toward the Friday night dinner count, and if holidays didn't count…
She felt light headed when she realized that she hadn't gone to Friday night dinner since August. That was five months ago.
"Rory?"
The call. She'd forgotten about the call. Her phone rang, and she answered, and her mother was on the other line telling her something that seemed impossible. It couldn't be. Her grandfather was one of those men who seemed like he could live forever. Even after the heart attack, back when she was young and Lorelai still shared her last name. She'd been scared, but a part of her didn't believe he could actually die. He was too sturdy in his bow ties and crisp Brooks Brothers button downs. He was supposed to always just be there.
"Babe, you okay?" Lorelai asked.
"Yes," Rory said automatically. "I'm fine. I…what happened?"
"It was a heart attack," Lorelai said. "Or…no…not a heart attack. It was cardiac…um, cardiac -"
"Cardiac arrest," Rory returned stiffly. She remembered Paris during medical school when she was on her cardiology rotation, reciting the different cardiac events in her measured, clinical voice.
Cardiac arrest. The sudden stop in effective blood circulation due to the failure of the heart to contract effectively.
"They said he didn't suffer," Lorelai offered as a paltry consolation. She could tell that even her mother didn't believe it. "So, that's good."
"I'm coming home," Rory said immediately.
"We haven't set a date for the wake yet. I can call you again with that…When I know more."
"No, I'm coming home now," Rory said, already up and off her bed. She looked around for her overnight bag, wondering how many overnights she could stuff into the green duffel bag.
"Babe, you don't need to rush out here. Your grandma and me are okay. Really."
"I should be with you," Rory held.
"You have a job. You can't just run off."
"They'll understand," Rory said off-handedly, still searching for her overnight bag. She found it stuffed behind her hamper and tossed it on her bed. Next, she needed to find some clean pajamas.
"Rory –"
"I need to do this, okay?" Rory said. "I just…I need to. Please let me do this."
Lorelai was quiet for a moment and then said, "Okay. Your grandma's staying in your room right now. She didn't want to be in the house right after."
Rory nodded. "That makes sense."
"You'll have to rough it on the couch."
"I'll manage."
"Okay, then I'll tell her you'll coming. Tell Luke to buy another canister of coffee. With three Gilmore girls under the roof we might put Maxwell House out of business."
It was a poor attempt at a joke, but it landed anyway. Rory smiled a bit and said, "I'm packing now. I should be in Stars Hollow sometime after dinner."
"Okay."
"Tell Grandma…" Rory trailed off. What do you tell a woman who just lost her husband? What words could possibly fill that void? "Tell her I love her and I'll see her soon."
"I will babe."
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, babe. I can't wait to see you."
Rory drove down Route 15, hoping that the mish mosh of clothes she threw into her bag resembles something akin to outfits. At least she knew she packed her nice black shift dress. That would do for the wake, the only real time she needed a nice, suitable outfit. The other days didn't really matter.
Rory felt a pang of guilt as she pulled into Stars Hollow, the familiar sign, still robins egg blue with "Founded in 1799" in white paint, not showing the years between now and when she called Stars Hollow home. She supposed it's been a long time since she'd really thought of Stars Hollow that way. She moved to New York right after serving on Obama's campaign, and her trips back became less frequent as her job ramped up and she made friends. She put roots down in New York, and it changed her somehow. She almost resented the idleness of her hometown. The pesky neighbors and small town politics that she used to find so charming. Maybe it was because all of those pesky neighbors were now focused on her, pointing out how long it had been since her last visit. They were innocent enough with their asides, but it still made Rory feel like a target. Like she wasn't small town enough for Stars Hollow anymore.
The streets were empty now, almost as if the entire town had gone into mourning for Richard. She knew that was ridiculous, but she couldn't help but wonder where everyone was. The streets were always bustling, even in the dead of winter. She pulled up to her childhood home, parking in the driveway and taking a moment before climbing out and grabbing her bag. She was halfway up the driveway when the door opened and Lorelai came bounding out. She nearly tackled her daughter to the ground, hugging her with such force that it pushed the breath out of her.
"Thank god you are here," Lorelai said. "I am about three minutes from killing your grandmother."
Rory smiled a bit. At least some things never changed.
"She just lost her husband, Mom. Give her some slack."
"She kept asking about where random gifts she gave us over the years were," Lorelai said.
"Didn't we sell a lot of that?"
"Yes, but I can't tell her that. I still don't think she's forgiven me for trading those candelabras for the monkey lamp. So, I pretended I didn't remember what she gave us."
Rory winced. "Bad move."
"Very bad move. So, naturally, taking advantage of my supposedly horrendous memory, she has taken to making a list of every gift she has given me since I went down her very tidy Ralph Lauren stamped birth canal."
"I'm sure that's going well."
"I didn't realize how much of the stuff I sold until I saw it all in black and white. I must have made a haul over the years."
"I'll come in and help distract," Rory said decisively. As they walked toward the door Rory asked delicately, "How are you doing?"
Lorelai hesitated for a moment, a telltale sign that whatever followed was not the whole truth, and she said, "I'm doing okay. It had to happen eventually, right?"
"I guess. But that doesn't make it any easier."
Lorelai smiled sadly. "That's what Luke said."
Rory took her mother's hand and Lorelai squeezed it gently. "We're going to be okay," Rory said.
"I know we are."
Rory walked in and Emily said loudly, "Lorelai, what about those Christopher Radko ornaments I got for you and Rory a few years ago? Those were beautiful."
"Yes they were," Lorelai said tightly. "Look who I have Mom."
Emily looked up from her list and smiled brightly when she saw Rory. She stood up and opened her arms, Rory walking into them. Emily hugged like her daughter, only without quite the iron grip. She smelled just like Rory remembered, powder and Chanel No. 5.
"Hi Grandma. I'm so sorry about Grandpa. I…"
"Don't you worry about that," Emily said crisply. "Your grandfather wouldn't have wanted us moping around. You know, he was always very ashamed of how he acted when his mother died." Her voice grew tart as she added, "Not that that woman was anything to miss. But he loved her to a fault. That was the sort of man your grandfather was. He was loyal and stubborn. And he would have hated the thought of us all crying over him." Her voice cracked as she repeated, "He would have hated the very thought."
The front door opened, and Luke walked in with two large bags stained with grease.
"Perfect timing," Lorelai said, walking over and giving him a quick kiss. "Rory just came in."
"You guys shouldn't have waited for me to eat," Rory said. It was nearly eight o'clock. They must have been starving. She knew that she was.
"Your grandma wouldn't have it any other way," Lorelai said.
"That is absolutely right," Emily said. "If you are taking the time to come all the way down here, we could wait for you."
"And now the waiting is over. Let's get some food happening here," Lorelai said, heralding them all into the kitchen. It was a testament to their grandmother's presence that they didn't just eat at the living room table. Rory remembered doing that a lot growing up. More of her meals were had sitting on the carpet, back pressed against the bottom of the couch as she watched television, than at the kitchen table.
"So, Rory, how was traffic?" Luke asked. It was such a Luke question that Rory couldn't help but smile.
"Traffic was fine."
"Did you take Route 12? Because I heard when you were on the road Route 12 was all backed up."
"I was on Route 15. But, it gets pretty backed up, too. Highways are all sort of like that."
Luke nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right."
"So, Rory, tell us what you've been writing about," Emily said. "Your grandfather –" she faltered for a moment, "- he was telling me a few weeks ago about this wonderful piece you wrote on the New York Met."
Rory nodded. She remembered that Richard called to congratulate her on a wonderful piece. He did that on occasion if he really enjoyed the article or had questions. She remembered how she'd been distracted during the call, cutting the conversation off early to meet friends for drinks.
"I'm writing a piece on Carly Fiorina" Rory offered. She knew it would satisfy her grandmother's Republican leanings.
"Oh, how wonderful. What is it about?"
"It's a profile to be featured in next Sunday's paper."
Emily's expression shifted for a moment. "Next Sunday? But, you're here. Rory, you aren't jeopardizing your job by coming out here, are you? Because that is the last thing your grandfather would have wanted."
"I already interviewed her," Rory assured Emily. "I just need to write it up. I told my editor my special circumstances, and he's letting me write remotely until all of this is over."
"So, your job is secure?" Emily pressed.
"Like an old woman in a girdle," Loreial returned.
Emily clicked her tongue. "Honestly, Lorelai?"
The dinner went on much like that for the next hour. Lorelai would say something and Emily would make a show of disapproving. Rory wondered as she helped Luke clean off just how long her mother hesitated before opening her home to Emily, but was surprised when Luke told her it was her mother's idea in the first place.
"Yeah, after it happened your mom asked what I thought about your grandma staying here for a while. She said she thought it might be hard for her to be in that house."
"She didn't tell me it was her idea," Rory murmured.
Luke smiled slightly. "You know how your mom is."
Apparently, Rory didn't. Or she'd forgotten. She nodded silently, closing up one Styrofoam container filled with French fries and putting it in the refrigerator. She could hear Emily and her mother talking in the other room, their voices low. She wondered what they were talking about.
When they were finished Luke and her walked into the living room and joined Lorelai and Emily. They put on Saturday Night Fever – a compromise between Lorelai's love of the 1970s and Emily's love of dance performance – and Rory pressed against the edge of the couch, her knees pulled in to her chest. Somehow, on that couch again, it simultaneously felt like old times and something entirely new. In a way it was. A family was irreparably changed when someone was lost, and the Gilmore family was not immune.
She thought of this when they all headed to bed, Lorelai and Luke going upstairs and Emily off to Rory's old bedroom. She curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her phone buzzed on the table behind her head and she reached back for it blindly, knocking over a Betty Boop ceramic figurine on her way to her phone. She reached down, picked Beet Boop up, and set it back on the couch. Her phone still buzzed, and she successfully plucked it from the table this time. Logan's number flashed on the screen. She paused for a moment before answering, her voice soft.
"Hello?"
"Hi Ace."
She hadn't heard his voice in two years, but it still made her stomach turn to goo, like melted caramel or marshmallow fluff.
"It's nice to hear your voice," she admitted, the oddness of her current circumstances making her feel oddly bold and vulnerable at the same time.
"I wish it was under better circumstances."
"Yeah, me too."
"I'm sorry about your grandpa. I heard this morning, but I didn't want to call when everyone else was."
Rory smiled a bit, turning on her side. "You are, in fact, the only person calling at –" she pulled back her phone to see the time " – 10:17 at night."
"You know me. I like to leave an impression."
"How's San Francisco?"
"I hear it's nice. I'm actually back in Hartford."
That got her attention. "You are?"
"I didn't like California. The air was weird. People kept trying to get me to hike."
"That sounds awful."
"I'm helming another start-up in Hartford. But this time we're actually doing well."
"I'm happy to hear that," Rory said genuinely. "I'm happy to hear from you. It's been too long."
"Do you know when the wake is?" Logan asked.
"I don't. I just got home a few hours ago. They haven't made any official plans yet."
"Will you let me know when you have more information? I'd like to come and pay my respects."
"Of course."
"Thank you. Alright, I'll let you go to bed now. I know how you get without proper sleep. It's not a pretty sight."
Rory felt a sudden tightness in her chest. Last night she went to sleep with two grandparents and woke up with only one. Who knew what she'd wake up to tomorrow. She reminded herself she was being ridiculous, and said, "Yeah, I should get to sleep. Thank you for calling. It was nice to hear from you."
"I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay. Night Logan."
She hung up first, holding her phone to her chest for a moment before putting it back on the table. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to come.
A/N: If you would like more of this PLEASE REVIEW! Spread the Gilmore Girls love! I do plan on having the tone get lighter as the story goes. So, it won't be all doom and gloom. Just a bit at the start here!