"Your daughter thought she was pregnant," he says, sitting down across from her and ignoring the raised eyebrows and smirk on her face. He's tired and feels as if he's aged several years in the few hours he thought he was going to be a grandfather. The pregnancy scare was a few days ago, but he hasn't been able to get it off his mind.
"Hello to you too," she says, the sarcasm cutting across their conversation quickly. He shrugs it off; this wasn't meant to be a pleasant meeting.
"Lily, your daughter thought she was pregnant," he repeats, stressing the words this time. He is shocked by how she is brushing this off. To be honest, the only reason he had not sought her out sooner was that he had kept expecting her to burst into his studio or his apartment. He had almost gotten used to it over the past couple months, her always untimely interruptions and her refusal to acknowledge that there was even a possibility of her being unwelcome. He had come to miss them and had spent that day half on edge, waiting for her to tear into the apartment. She hadn't and after Jenny and Dan got home he had been forced to acknowledge that with the feeling of joy from the news there had also been a bitter taste of disappointment in his mouth. It's okay though, he has long associated this feeling with her presence, or rather the lack of her presence.
"No, she did not," Lily replies, mimicking the stress on each word. She takes a sip of her coffee and waits for his reaction. He looks at her to see if she is truly naïve or if he is missing something. He almost wants to laugh a minute later when he realizes that naïve will never be a word associated with Lily van der Woodsen. He cocks his head to the side and she relents.
"The test wasn't for her, Rufus."
"How do you know?" he asks and he's serious. He truly likes Serena, but he is well aware of the level of involvement that Lily has in her life and he wouldn't be surprised if Serena was able to pass off this lie to her mother. Lily purses her lips and he knows she's upset that he's judging her. He hates that he does, but it's habit at this point. He used to be able to look at her without judgment. He could see past all the money and all the privileges and just see her. This ability was lost right around the time she walked away from him.
"As shocking as you may find this, I do in fact talk to my daughter," she says and the words come across as ice. It's not so much the actual language, but her tone. For some reason it makes him smile. He's always liked when Lily gets ruffled, considering how hard it is to upset her. For such a long time she seemed unflappable to him, but that was before he actually knew her. When she was just some girl and he was some guy, before there were feelings or complications.
"Lily, are you sure?" he asks, sobering himself so that he can focus on the discussion. He keeps forgetting that all of his interactions with her are now based around their children. Mostly this is because he has trouble remembering he has children when he is with her. Most of the time he looks at her and suddenly no time has passed. They are young again and all the feelings he held for her cave in and he's drowning in them.
"Yes," and she says it in such a way that he knows that it's true. His entire body relaxes and he sags against the chair. Relief washes over him, more genuine than the feeling he had earlier in the week.
"Good, that's really good," he mutters, more to himself than her. He looks up again and sees that she's frowning.
"You really thought she was pregnant," she states. There's no emotion, no surprise or anger, just the statement.
"Yes," he says and it's the first time that he has admitted it to himself. When he saw the picture of Serena with the test he had assumed that she was pregnant.
"They're not us, Rufus," Lily half whispers, and for a moment he thinks he's imagined it. His whole body tenses again and he feels paralyzed. He can't move anything, and his mind isn't forming any coherent thoughts. Then everything comes rushing back so fast that he feels nauseous and his mind is moving too fast for him to focus. He grips the end of the small coffee table and can feel his knuckles turn to a ghastly white.
"We weren't," he manages to get out. The room is suddenly hazy and he feels like he's falling. He's afraid to look at her, because he's afraid of what she's going to say. It had never occurred to him that she would lie, but suddenly it's the only thing he can think. Then he's lost in the memory. He remembers that week so well. He remembers the petrifying fear that had gripped him when Lily tearfully told him her suspicions. He remembers pacing in front of the door as she took the test. They were the longest minutes of his life, much longer than the minutes when Allison took the test for Dan. The air around him is stifling, but he can't seem to move. However, the silence is finally too much to bear and he raises his eyes to meet hers. He's begging her not to say what he thinks will come out of her mouth next. Shockingly, she smiles.
"True," she says and with that admission the room abruptly stands still and he feels anger burn in his veins. With the room clear and his mind returned to normal he realizes that he wasn't truly afraid the morning of what he thought to be Serena's pregnancy scare. What he had just felt, the total loss of control, that was real fear. The anger grows stronger and he wants to scream at her, maybe throw something, anything to get the anger out of him. He sees Lily realize what he had thought and with some satisfaction he sees her face contort in what he can only understand to be pain.
"I didn't mean to suggest that I was," she rushes to get out. He nods, not trusting himself to speak yet. She is so uncomfortable with the silence that she leans forward and babbles, "I just meant that I thought I was. I mean, I was completely convinced before I took the test." He nods again, takes a few calming breaths, but still doesn't trust himself to speak.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she whispers and when he looks up he sees twenty-year old Lily, and not the grown woman she's become. He's suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss her, and then he notices that she's fidgeting with her engagement ring. It's an old habit of hers, to fidget with jewelry. He supposes the newness of the ring on that finger is what causes her to keep twisting it. He can't allow himself to think it's anything else.
"I thought you were about to tell me that you had lied to me," he admits. Honesty tastes funny on his tongue. He's so used to skirting around issues with her that any time he tells the complete truth it causes his stomach to flutter. He still finds himself feeling nauseous over the memory of telling her he still loved her. But he's determined to be honest now; regret has weighed on him for far too long.
"I didn't mean for it to come out like that. What I meant was that Dan and Serena are not us. They'll be careful."
"He's in love with her. They're moving too fast."
"They're not us," she repeats and he's annoyed at her focus on this. Then he remembers that he's attempting honesty in this conversation.
"We didn't move too fast, Lily. I just fell too hard," he says and leans forward, resting his elbows onto the small table between them.
"We both did," she replies softly. She then realizes how close they are and clearing her throat falls back against her chair. It's then that he realizes how tired she looks.
"Well, this has been an especially enjoyable conversation," she says and drains what Rufus suspects is a barely lukewarm cappuccino.
"It's always a pleasure to talk to you, Lily," he replies and they've returned to what they ought to be now that she's engaged.
"I appreciate your concern, but I think that they're being responsible."
"Well, it's the job of a parent to worry," he says and wonders when he began spouting out clichés.
"I have a meeting."
"I should get going too," he says and stands. She follows his action and they walk out of the coffee shop together. He wants to acknowledge what had happened in the small café, but her engagement ring has caught the light and he can't seem to speak with it glittering like that.
"Bye, Lily," he says and turns around. He tells himself that one of these days it will get easier to walk away from her. He knows it isn't true, but he's always been a dreamer.