Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I know I haven't update L/C in a long time. I just haven't found a nice cohesive way to bring it all together. Anyways here a short story I've been working on in the meantime. I hope you all enjoy.
Summary: Based on the song by Carrie Underwood. What happens when you realize love is all that matters after all?
5:00 p.m.
The time of day when most Americans leave work; they get in their cars, drive home to their three bedroom raised ranch, and walk through the door just in time to discover dinner is being served. That is not the world I live in.
My day does not end until my article and/or articles are complete. I never know what time I get to go home; not that home is all that exciting. It all depends on what happens in politics. When I worked on the presidential election three years ago, I was running on caffeine and sugar for days at a time. Thankfully since then my schedule has been somewhat normal. Most nights I leave between 5 and 6 other nights I work until 11. Occasionally, I have had to do some overnights here but I would not change it for the world. I have dreamed of doing this my entire life.
It does have it low points though mostly affecting my personal life. I live 180 miles away from my home, it's difficult to date, I live alone, I eat take out every night; although that's not much different than being home, and I miss my friends.
"Gilmore, eta."
"Five, Lou."
"Make it three."
Louis Knight.
He is the editor of the Philadelphia Inquirer, my boss, and at times a royal pain in my ass. Since I started here last year he has been riding me really hard; and not in the dirty horizontal way. He is twenty five years my senior. It is weird to even think about it. Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that he expects a lot from me. After being on Barack Obama's campaign trail, I knew whatever job was next for me was going to be very demanding.
I was right. Louis knew my work well and when Obama's campaign was over, he made me an offer I could not refuse. I would be working solely on political issues and my articles were going to be syndicated.
Syndicated!
I was going to be a syndicated reporter in the greater Philadelphia and southern New Jersey area. It did not matter to me that I was only reaching those people. The point was that syndication made it possible for even more people to read my work. Syndication is an amazing accomplishment for any journalist and to reach it even on a small level. I was not picturing syndication as a possibility until I had been working for at least ten years. But at twenty-six I was and it was an incredible feeling.
"Done." I yell as the ink jet printer spits out my latest article. I pull the flash drive from the USB input and attach it to the papers with a clip just as Louis walks buy to grab it from my hands. He looks it over quickly.
"Looks good. You can go."
"See you tomorrow." I started the shut down process of my computer as I gathered my purse from the bottom drawer of my desk. The monitor went black and I touched off the on button as I pulled my arms through my black pea-coat. Grabbing my purse from my desk I make my way out of the office as quickly as possible.
"Don't forget your covering that convention tomorrow at Temple." I hear Louis yell to me as I step into the elevator. He likes to pretend that I need those reminders when in fact they are just a nuisance. I've been looking forward to this convention for over a month now, I would never forget about it.
I'm starving.
I barely had a sandwich for lunch when I got a lead on my article. I spent the next four hours making phone calls and confirming as many details as possible so I could finish at a reasonable hour. It's a good thing Paris is in Philadelphia with Doyle for a conference and we are meeting for dinner tonight. Luckily I was able to get everything done. I really miss Paris; who would have ever thought that after the hell she put me through when I was the new kid at Chilton that she would turn out to be one of my best friends.
It's really cold.
The wind cuts through my jacket like a knife and I feel my body shiver from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. My apartment is only three blocks from the newspaper so I never feel the need to drive even in mid-November. A few more long strides and I reach my building. There is nothing special or distinctive about it; just a plain brick building with twelve floors of tenants.
I take out my keys from my purse as I wait for the elevator to descend from which ever floor it happens to be on. A few moments pass and the elevator doors part like the red sea, three people step off and I step in alone. I press the button for the ninth floor and watch as the light illuminates the panel.
Stepping off the elevator I notice a package propped against the door; probably from my mother. Since I moved here she thought of this insane ritual of sending me a mixed CD once a week of songs that made her think of me. You would think with a baby on the way she would find some other way to spend her time but every week she faithfully sends a package. My mom misses me like crazy and vice versa; thankfully this ritual is semi-normal. When I was on the campaign trail for Obama, she thought it would be funny to pick a word and text message me every time someone said the 'word of the day'. One day she picked hi, needless to say I got about seventy-five messages from her.
There is a comfortable stillness in my apartment. I place the package from my mom on the table where I usually pile up my mail. Shit! I forgot to check my box. Oh well I'll just get it when I come back from dinner. I toss my coat over the back of my recliner and make my way to the kitchen. My stomach grumbles so loudly I think my cabinets shake. I reach into the cabinet closest to the refrigerator and pull out the first bag that comes into contact with my hand. Frito's. Yum-O! I know how very Rachel Ray of me. I tried making one of her thirty minute meals one time; that ended with the building super having to get me a new stove. I now know why my mother and I never cook. It really is a hazard to those around us.
I walk lazily over to the table and pick up the package from my mom with my free hand. I set the package down on the coffee table as I threw myself into my all too familiar spot on the couch. Taking a handful of chips into my hand, I lean over to the end table and see the number three blinking on my answering machine. Reaching over I press the play button on the machine then proceed to open the manila envelope.
'Hey Ror, its Ethan.' What the hell does he want? 'I think I left a couple of my books and some clothes at your place.' Yeah, the Salvation Army was really grateful for that donation. 'Anyway I really want that stuff back so give me a call.' Not going to happen.
Ethan Myers. I met him in New Haven when Lane and I were out for our bimonthly girls' night. He was handsome and charming. We dated for eight months and things were going great. Four months ago, Ethan told me that there was someone else. What is it with guys cheating on me? Not that there was ever concrete proof he cheated. Still, do I have the word naive tattooed on my forehead? We broke up the same day and he is just now getting the balls to ask for his stuff back. Give me a break. I kept the books of course but the clothes were gone that week.
'Rory. Paris.' Paris? 'I got the dates for the conference mixed up. I won't be in Philadelphia until Friday. Call me later.' Well that sucks. It looks like I'm ordering take out from New Moon again; another night alone in my apartment. God, I'm boring. At least I got mom's new CD to listen to.
'Hey sweets!' Speak of the devil in Prada herself; although she's much nicer than Meryl Streep, oh and she only owns one Prada handbag. 'You should be getting my package today. That online tracking thing the post office does is amazing. It's like big brother through the mail. Anyway just thought you'd like to know I went to the doctor's today and baby is growing at a perfectly normal rate. I'm still arguing with Mr. Flannel-grumpy pants about finding out the sex of the child. He claims there are not enough surprises in life which is annoyingly cute but I still want to know. I'm a control freak you know that.' Yes she is. 'By the way, crazy thing I was in New Haven this morning and saw Ethan's mom. Talk about awkward. Anyways give me a call when you get home. Have fun at dinner with Paris. Love ya sweets.' I still cannot believe my mom is having a baby. I'm going to be almost fifty when he or she graduates college. That's just weird.
I run my hands through my hair and comb them through to pull my hair into a loose ponytail. I reach over and take the phone off the receiver; Dialing the familiar number as I grab another handful of Frito's from the half empty bag.
"Hello," the male voice echoed through the phone. I could tell by the tone he was utterly annoyed by something or should I say someone.
"Luke."
"Rory, hi. Maybe you can talk some sense into your mother about eating better for the baby."
"I had an apple." I hear her protest in the background.
"Three days ago," he retorts. "She is driving me crazy." I hear her yell 'hey'; she sounds like she is standing right next to him now. "Talk to her please."
"Offspring."
"Mom."
"Your step-father is driving me crazy."
"You two are perfect for each other than."
"I know, isn't it great?"
"So how is everything?"
"I'm getting fat."
"You're pregnant."
"Thank you Keemosabi."
"You're welcome."
"So where are you going to dinner tonight?"
"Take out actually. Paris got the dates mixed up; she won't be here until Friday."
"Bummer."
"Yeah so I think I'm going to run myself a bath, order some Chinese, and read."
"Sweetie, I love you. I love that you are so predictable but it's been four months. You should get back out there."
"Mom..."
"I'm serious. I know things have been rough since Logan; there was Scott and Ethan...."
"It's not like I'm joining a convent; though one more train wreck relationship might force me there."
"It gets better."
"Says the woman who married her best friend."
"So get out there and marry your best friend Ror. Just don't sulk. It's bad for your skin and my dear you have an amazing complexion."
"Okay. I'll go out tomorrow but tonight bath and Chinese."
"I guess that works."
"Take care of baby and listen to Luke about eating. He knows what he's talking about."
"He tried to make me eat asparagus! Of all things that horrible vegetable."
"Well, tell him what you will eat. I know you like carrots and peas sometimes."
"I guess you're right." Thank god I hear in the background. Luke loves that I can reason with her when no one else in the world can. He knows her better than me sometimes but when it comes down to it, sometimes he needs my help. He knows it. He accepted it a long time ago which made the transition much easier for him.
"Alright mom, I'm going to start my bath. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Listen to the CD babe. I think it will help with your mood."
"Okay mom. Good night."
"Night."
Hanging the phone back onto the receiver, I abandon my bag of Fritos and pad my way to the bathroom. I adjust the hot and cold water until I find the perfect temperature. I place the stopper in the drain and reach for a handful of bath beads on the shelf above the toilet. Dropping them into the water, I watch for a moment as they start to disintegrate in the steaming water.
Giving the tub a chance to fill, I decide to grab a few essentials for my relaxing bath. A couple of vanilla candles from the top drawer of my nightstand in along with a book of matches, the small portable stereo from the top of my oak dresser, and of course the CD from my mom. All set for a peaceful hot bath. After everything is placed to my liking around the tub, the candles lit, I shut off the water, press play on the stereo and climb into the heavenly lavender bath water.
As I adjust into the contours of the tub I lay my head back and close my eyes. It takes a few moments when I finally begin to focus on the music I hear the unmistakable sound of Carrie Underwood's voice resonate the room. It's amazing the amount of sound and power that comes from such a small person. I really do enjoy listening to her music though and a time like this it is an especially soothing sound.
What you got if you ain't got love
the kind that you just want to give away
It's okay to open up
go ahead and let the light shine through
I know it's hard on a rainy day
you want to shut the world out and just be left alone
But don't run out on your faith
'Cause sometimes that mountain you've been climbing is just a grain of sand
What you've been up there searching for
forever is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
seem so small
Was this song was just on? Yeah I'm pretty sure it was. Maybe mom just made a mistake burning the CD and copied the song twice. Oh well. It'll be a minute and onto the next song.
Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing is just a grain of sand
What you've been up there searching for
forever is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Oh it sure makes everything else
Seem so small
Yeah, Yeah
Alright mom, let's see what song you picked next for this week.
Yeah, Yeah
What you got if you ain't got love
the kind that you just want to give away
It's okay to open up
What the hell? Again! Is she serious? Okay one double of a song I can buy as a mistake, but three… this is crazy. I sit up and reach for the next button on the player. The same song, what is this? I finally get to track 12 and it has a different intro.
Hey sweets!
Mom?
You're probably wondering why there is a track on your CD with me, your loving mother who birthed you, talking or better than that why it seems like mommy made a boo-boo when copying songs to this week's CD. I was listening to this song and it made me think of you. Sweets, what you need more than anything in your life is someone you truly love and who loves you back with their whole heart. And I was thinking… we'll maybe it's time you take a look at yourself, your heart and realize that the problems you've had in past relationships are really just a grain of sand.
This pregnancy has officially made her nuts. I think it's time I checked her into an insane asylum. She'll have fun with the padded walls and all the McMurphy's and Billy Bibbit's running around. And she will certainly keep Nurse Ratchet busy.
Don't let a few bad relationships ruin any chance you have at happiness. I love you, so please just listen to the song one more time all the way through with your eyes closed, listen to your heart and picture the one person who you could picture yourself spending your whole life with. Maybe he's already in your life. Anyways, mommy is starting to ramble and baby is hungry. Talk to you soon sweets.
Alright, Mom. You win. I'll go with it. I'll trust you on this. Maybe she is on to something here. Reflection is sometimes the best therapy and it brings things into perspective. 'Okay Ror', I say aloud, 'Stop with the thinking. Just feel and listen'. I let the CD revert to the first track and close my eyes. The song starts and I listen to the lyrics more carefully than ever before.
It's so easy to get lost inside
a problem that seems so big at the time
it's like a river that's so wide
it swallows you whole
While you sit around thinking about what you can't change
and worrying about all the wrong things
time's flying by
moving so fast
you better make it count 'cause you can't get it back
Then it hits me like a ton of breaks. I can see his face and I smile. I've known it for a long time but this song, this clarity; it makes me see what I've been missing. It was missing with all the others. I never gave them that one part of me that would make me invested into a relationship with my whole heart. That part belongs to him and I broke that… I broke him. I ruined my chance – our chance- how can I possibly get that back?
It's simple. I can't. I messed up and I can't change that. Maybe Carrie is right and I am worrying about all the wrong things and in the end it won't matter but I hurt him. I caused him so much pain and suffering, I know he'll never open his heart up to me like that. Not again.
I climb out of the tub, turn off the stereo and reach for my blue bathrobe from the back of the door. As I tie the belt around my waist I glance up and examine myself in the mirror. I hardly recognize that girl I used to be. I believed in fairy tales, happily ever after and now there is just this person; bitter about love because it's never perfect or feels right. There is a knock at the door and my pity party is over. Padding across my apartment to the door, I remove the thin chain and turn the handle to reveal the person on the other side.
"I just got back into town. I thought you might be in the mood for some take out and a movie."
"I can't believe you're here." I notice the brown take out bag and DVD hanging by his left side. I move over the threshold and we embrace in a hug. It's a little awkward at first but I expected it. After a moment, it feels like the last few months never happened. He's taken the initial step. Coming here tonight, like this and I for one can't be grateful enough. "Come in. You must be exhausted."
"I've had worse days." He teased as he walked into the kitchen, placing the amenities on the counter. "Chinese good?"
"Perfect. But only if you remembered my fried wontons."
"When have I ever forgotten?"
"Never, but one day you might." I tease. I realize my attire and immediately my face feels flush. "I should change."
"You look beautiful." He says as he scoops generous portions onto each plate.
"I'll be right back." I smile and he smirks back. I hurry into the bedroom and fish a pair of blue jeans out of my dresser. As I pull the jeans over my legs, I drop my robe and put on a bra as I head for the closet. I take a pale pink three-quarter length top off a hanger and pull it over my head. Checking the mirror once, I'm satisfied with the way I look. I know he doesn't care and I don't want him to think I'm making a big fuss about my clothes. I open the bedroom door and as I turn the corner I ask. "What movie did you bring?"
"Almost Famous."
"Will you ever get sick of that movie?" I notice he has set the coffee table with food covered plates and flatware. He reappears from the kitchen with two goblets of red wine in hand.
"It's a classic and…"
"We watch it at least once of month when you aren't away." I take the glass he has offered me and move over to sit on the couch. "Thanks for doing all this."
"It's nothing." He reaches for the DVD remote and brings up the menu screen before selecting the play option. And for another brief instant, it seems like our friendship has not been tainted.
We sit in silence as we clear our plates and enjoy the movie. I place my flatware over my empty plate and lean back into the couch, glass of wine in hand. The movie is only half way over and I feel like I need to ask him the inevitable. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching a movie," he answers with a mouth full of General Tso's chicken. He looks at me and he notices my cocked eyebrow. He knows I want to have a serious conversation. He finishes his mouthful before answering. "I missed you."
"You've been gone for three months."
"Book tour." He swallows some wine to clear his palette. "You know how it is," he responds as he leans back into the couch. His dark brown eyes finally meet with my blue.
"You didn't call. You always call." I know why he didn't call. I suspected when he left for his third novel's publicity tour that he would avoid calling. "Even when we have a fight before you leave, you call."
"What happened… with us… wasn't exactly a fight," he answers. He is careful not to bring up in so many words what transpired before he left. I guess writers have the ability to mask their expressions so they can say something without really saying it. It's an annoying habit we both tend to have but it's only evident when we want to avoid the outright truth. "And you could have called."
"You're right." He is always right; we'll most of the time. I take a big gulp of my wine and savor the liquid in my mouth. Its allowing me time to think and steer clear of having this topic for just a second longer. I swallow hard and let the words flow freely, "I couldn't think of anything to say".
He closes his eyes and shakes his head softly from left to right. "Rory," there was a long, drawn out pause. I can see from the slight changes in the muscles on his face that he's cautiously selecting his next statement. "I spent the last three months going over and over what happened that night. I keep wondering if given the chance I would change anything."
"And?"
"I wouldn't. But,"
"Why is there always a 'but'?" He lets a small grin escape his lips. I am trying desperately to lighten the situation but really I have no business. It was my fault. I took out the shot glasses and Jose Cuervo, I was a little upset about Ethan, and I was the one who kissed him first.
"This can't keep happening. It's too hard. In the heat of the moment, its right and I don't regret it. The first time after Luke and Lorelai's wedding, we were both lonely and drunk."
"And look what we were able to do with that." I bring my legs up onto the couch and cross them underneath my body. "We built this friendship back to a place that has kept me from losing my sanity and making me run back home."
He smiles. "I'm so glad that I can keep you sane even though I drove you crazy all those years ago. I just… I can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Being that guy", he lifts the weight of his body off the couch and begins pacing the floor between the coffee table and entertainment center. "That guy who can't be in a serious relationship because he wants to be with someone else."
"You were engaged to Sarah…"
"And I ended that after I slept with you."
"I told you that she never…"
"God damn it Rory! I knew!" He was getting very frustrated with me. He never raises his voice unless he's at the end of his rope. Can you blame him?
He was with Sarah for over a year. He loved her the best way he knew how and she wanted to get married. He proposed, she accepted, but she was never around after that. Not that is any excuse for what happened between us while they were together. Sarah is a financial analyst, at least I think she still is, and when the economy was on the brink of failing two years ago, she started to spend all her time out of the country. She wanted to save the world; she just had this personality that made her want to fix everything, it was really inspiring. She was in Tokyo when the wedding took place. He hadn't seen her for more than seven days in the past three months and when she told him she was not going to be home in time, he got very angry with her.
I really liked Sarah. I hadn't been with anyone in over a year and he was there. He is always there when I need him most. And I needed him that night just as much as he needed me.
"Did you know I laid awake for hours after we made love this last time?" I feel right asleep. I could never hold my hard liquor well. "And I thought 'this is it; she's finally ready to go all in and be with me'."
"Jess… I… I'm…" And again I'm here with no words. Three months and I still have nothing.
"You're sorry?" His eyes are desperate. They are searching mine for answers and I know I have none. "See? This is what I can't keep doing."
"I didn't do anything!" I yell at him as I stand myself up. "You came here tonight. No warning. Nothing." I take a few steps and stop myself right in front of him.
"Rory," he says softly.
"No. You don't get to come here with fried wontons, a movie, and pretend everything is the same." I wish I could stop myself. I can't. Everything I've wanted to say –and everything I'm afraid to- it's all here now. It feels refreshing not to hide anymore. "I didn't force you to have sleep with me, Jess. You were there with me every step of the way."
"I know that Rory but damn it," he turns away from me as he pushes his hands over his face, through his hair in annoyance. He turns back towards me, hands on his hips and breathes in deeply.
"What?" I ask as I throw my hands at my sides. Our eyes connect and signify that we are both near defeat. In one quick motion, he moves his hands from his hips to my face and places his lips to mine. The kiss is hard, desperate, and full of passion. Our lips dance as I grant him access to the inside of my mouth. Our tongues meet and move together in a familiar rhythm. A few more seconds of bliss and he pulls away. I stand their motionless, and bring my hand up to my swollen lips.
"I love you Rory," he says with his back turned to me. "I just can't be the friend that sleeps with you when you feel alone and unwanted." He turns back around to face me.
It takes me a moment but I know exactly what needs to be said to make this okay. "I had this moment after you left my bed; I wanted to take back everything I said about it being a mistake. So I took a shower, got dressed, and went to your apartment. I wanted to talk to you but Matt answered the door. He said you were already gone."
"And you just left it like that?"
"Yeah I did," I moved back to the couch and Jess followed. There is so much that needs to be said. I need to tell him the truth. He is being honest with me, now it's my turn.
"Rory," he turned towards me, "I spent the last three months just thinking about what I want and what I want is you."
I take a deep breath, "I finally saw it. Today. Thanks to my mom, her crazy mixed CDs and the fourth winner of American Idol."
"There is a point right?"
"Yes," I reach over and take his hand into mine. I take another deep breath and look straight into his dark brown eyes. "There I was lying in my bathtub and it hit me."
"The tub hit you?"
"I'm being serious here."
"Sorry."
I rubbed my thumbs over the back of his hands. They were incredibly smooth but with a subtle male roughness to them. "I'm sorry that I've taken you for granted. It took me until today to realize that this is the way it's supposed to be; you and me."
He starts rubbing his thumbs against the back of my hands. It's comforting. "What are you saying here?"
I lean into him. I want him to really hear me when I say it. "I'm saying that I love you. I have always been in love with you." I release one of my hands from his and bring it against his face. I rub his cheek and he leans his face into my palm.
"Are you saying you want to try to have a real relationship again?" There was a lot of hope in his eyes and I was hoping he could see the same hope in mine. I could tell by the slight hint of a smile on his face he could see that it wasn't a lie.
"I'm saying yes," I lessen the gap between us, our lips touch again. It's a simple exchange of our lips; it's the signing of a contract, a new beginning. This is it.
I break the kiss and we rest our foreheads against each other. We both smile. "So…" he starts in a slightly seductive tone, "should we take this into your bedroom?"
I playfully slap his chest. "I don't want to mess this up. When you realize love is all that matters after all it sure makes everything else…"
"Seem so small," he tries to sing out. It's adorable. I place a quick peck on his lips.
"How did I not know Carrie Underwood was a staple on your IPod?" I turn my body to the side and rest my head against his torso. He wraps his long arms around me and places a kiss against my forehead.
"It's not," he begins, "Actually Lorelai came to my book signing in New York last week and gave me this mixed CD. Do you think she copied the same song on the entire thing on purpose?"
A huge grin spreads across my face. "She definitely did."
