Rory was stunned. She sighed and dropped the papers on her desk. How did she manage to spend $95,000 in just 9 years? She looked around her 600 sq ft closet that barely counted as a studio. What the hell had she been paying for?
"Fuck…" she whispered.
When her grandparents had revealed that they wanted to give her $300,000 as a graduation gift, Rory was appalled. She had been 22, single, and was going to make decent money following Barack Obama's campaign trail. She wasn't some jobless trust fund kid. But they begged. They begged her to take something, anything! Even her own mother had told her she'd be an idiot to turn it down so, Rory caved. She accepted $100,000 nothing more.
It was a modest nest egg. She'd invest it, or buy some property to make a little money while she worked at her future job at an amazing newspaper. But then the election ended. And it had been a couple of years before she found her feet as a professional journalist but, $95,000? Last week, Rory had proudly packed up her desk and stomped home from her last day at The Wallstreet Journal. 5 years of busting her ass and she barely had anything to show for it. Not a raise, or a slightly roomier cubicle. Those jackwads couldn't even spring for a space heater in their -30° building. Rory knew that her writing could get her a better job in a heartbeat. And even if that took a while, she still had the money her grandparents left her, right?
Right.
Rory and the bank confirmed that she had been wrong, so very, very wrong. The total of her checking and savings account was minuscule $2,438.16. With the $5,000 left from her grandparents, Rory could afford to feed herself and house herself, for about 5 more minutes. Rory flinched as a shadow slinked across her floor. Another mouse? The shadow meowed and Rory rolled her eyes.
"Zsa-Zsa, c'mere sweetie."
The fluffiest white cat known to man trotted over and jumped in her lap. Zsa-Zsa purred as Rory gave her a scratch on the chin. Had she known a few weeks ago that she would be this broke, she probably wouldn't have spent $1,200 on a purebred cat.
"How pathetic would it be to break my lease, run home to my mommy and ask my grandparents for money?"
Zsa-Zsa blinked in response.
Rory nodded. "You're right. I'll stick to grandpa."
Zsa-Zsa hissed and dug her claws into Rory's thighs as her phone vibrated across her desk.
"Ow, ow, ow! Okay, you can go!" Rory's shooed the cat off her lap and picked up her phone.
"Mom! I was just about to call you. What's the haps?"
The line was quiet with the exception of heavy breathing and sniffling.
"Mom, what's wrong? Is everything okay?"
"Something happened."
"To who? Is Luke okay? Is it James? Mom–"
"Rory, it's your grandpa."
––––––
$800 poorer, Rory and Zsa-Zsa touched down in Tweed New Haven airport a few hours later. Seeing her family's faces after sitting in a pressurized tin can for 2 hours was one hell of a relief. James, with the energy only 8-year-old boys could exert, dropped Lorelai's hand and sprinted up to her.
"Woah, Woah, hold on their cowboy. I got precious cargo here!" Rory said, lifting Zsa-Zsa's kennel above his head.
"Did you bring a puppy?" he asked, bouncing up and down.
"No, even better! Meet Zsa-Zsa!" She tilted the grate of the kennel down at him.
James rolled his eyes. "A cat? Lame."
"James, stop being a brat and help your sister with her bags. Thanks."
Rory passed the kennel off to James and let Luke wrap her in a warm hug.
"I missed you, Luke."
"Same here, kid."
Rory let go of Luke and turned to her mom. Her stomach clenched. She guessed she hadn't noticed it before but, her mom was old. Before she knew it she'd be flying back to Stars Hollow for her mom's–
The idea of finishing that train of thought had Rory squeezing Lorelai even harder.
Lorelai planted a kiss on her forehead. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course. How's grandpa doing? And grandma?"
Luke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Me and James are gonna take the bags back to the truck."
Rory watched them pick up the bags and hurry outside. "Is it bad?" she asked.
Lorelai frowned and rubbed her face. "Let's talk about it at home, kay?"
––––
Rory didn't know who was in the hospital bed in front of her, but she knew one thing for sure. It wasn't Richard Gilmore. At least, it shouldn't have been. The man in the bed was frail and withered. His face was weathered and gray face bones poked out sharply from under his skin. If Rory couldn't hear the steady "beep" from the heart monitoring machine, she was sure that she was looking at a corpse. It shouldn't be her grandpa. But it was.
"How did this happen? " Rory asked as tears began to roll down her face.
Lorelai wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Heart attack."
"But, he's had heart attacks before, he never looked like this."
"He was alone this time, Rory."
Rory covered her mouth in horror. She couldn't get the picture of Richard gasping for breath all alone on his office floor out of her head. She wiped the tears off her face and sniffled.
"But he's getting better right? He'll only have to stay in the hospital for a little longer?" she asked.
"Rory...I. I asked you to fly in so you could say goodbye." Lorelai said.
Rory crossed her arms and bit her lip. It wasn't fair. She didn't even get to know him for 20 years. She was such an idiot. She was so busy screwing up in New York to visit the man who even made it possible to be there. She would barely pick up the phone he called! God, she was such an idiot.
Rory turned around and realized that Lorelai had left her, and what was left of her grandfather alone. She wiped her face again and dropped into the hard plastic chair next to Richard's bed. She gently grabbed his hand. Rory didn't want to say goodbye. She snorted back her tears.
"Gilmore's don't snort, Rory."
"Grandpa!"
Richard smiled at her from under the oxygen mask strapped to his face. He squeezed her hand. "You look like that Kardashian girl in one of those things James keeps showing me."
"A meme?"
"Yes, that. I think I want to see some more of those. They are incredibly funny."
"I can't believe you know who the Kardashians are. James really corrupted you." Rory whispered.
They smiled silently at each other. Richard let out a breath that shook his whole body. "It's good to see you, Rory."
"It's good to see you too, grandpa. Sorry I haven't been around."
"I understand." Richard sucked in a breath of air. "Off in New York City, putting the Gilmore name on the map." Another gulp of air. "There's no shame in being too busy to visit boring ol' grandpa."
Rory was going to start crying again. She had been too busy running the Gilmore name into the ground to think about her family at all. After everything Richard had done for her, she had nothing to show for it.
"Have I ever told you how proud I am of you and your mother? My Lorelais." Richard asked.
"Not really."
Richard looked confused for a moment. He then sighed deeply and smiled. "Well, I am. You've both turned about to be amazing, successful people. There are no better women who could carry on the Gilmore name."
Rory swallowed her tears and pressed her head onto Richard's chest. She wanted to smell the musk of his pipe smoke and tang of his cologne, but all she found was the sour tang of lemony hospital disinfectant. A soft, heavy hand rested on the top of her skull. "Your hair is getting long again." Richard murmured.
Rory sat up and wiped under her nose. "Yeah, been busy. Haven't had time to get a trim."
"It looks nice."
Richard smiled and closed his eyes. "Remind me to tell my nurse to get me a softer bed. Tell her I'll buy the whole damn hospital if I have to."
Rory smiled through her tears. "Will do."
She looked down at her hands and before she knew it, Richard was asleep, barrel chest rising and falling sluggishly. Rory closed the hospital door behind her and found her Lorelai and Luke sitting outside. Luke was glassy-eyed with grief and Lorelai clutched his arm like a lifeline.
"Hey," Rory said.
Lorelai sniffed and smiled. "Hey. How was he?"
"Good, good. We had a nice talk. Yeah. It was good." In an effort not to cry again–she was pretty sure her body was out of moisture anyways– she asked, "Where's James?"
"Mom was feeling a little sick so he volunteered to keep her company."
"Cool."
Rory looked around. The hospital's bright lights hurt her eyes and she swore she could hear every heart rate machine flatline all around the hospital. "Can we go home?"
"Yeah."
