A/N: Y'all. This chapter is thirty pages long. Idk, this story needed more Logan and more original scenes and mostly just more Logan.
"Lexi Lu," Logan says softly, shaking the little girl awake.
"Daddy, I'm sleeping," she protests.
"Poppa is going to take you to Aunt Lane and Uncle Zach's," he tells her, picking her up. She buries her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Why?" she asks, her voice muffled in Logan's shirt.
"Because Mommy and Daddy have to go to the hospital so Mommy can have your new baby sister," he explains, pulling her pink backpack, already packed for the occasion by her always-prepared mother, onto his shoulder.
"Mmm," is all she says, and Logan can't help but smile and kiss her head.
He takes her out to the living room, where Rory and Lorelai are sitting on the couch and Luke is awkwardly pacing by the door, hands in his pockets.
"Come kiss Mommy," Rory says, reaching her arms out.
"I don't even know if she's awake," Logan says, peeling her off of his shoulder.
She looks up at him with half-closed blue eyes and he puts her down on the couch next to Rory.
"Give your Mommy a kiss," he tells her. "Next time you see her, you'll have a new baby sister."
"I'll see you later, Al," Rory says, and Alexandra stands up on the couch to hug her mother around the neck and kiss her on the cheek. Rory kisses her daughter's forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face. "I love you so much."
"I love you, Mommy," she says, but then Rory squeezes her eyes shut and inhales sharply, leaning her head against the back of the couch.
"Okay, Lexi Lu," Logan says quickly, scooping her off of the couch and back onto his hip. "Time to go with Poppa." He squeezes her tightly, rocking back and forth. "Daddy loves you," he says, handing her and her backpack off to Luke. "Thank you so much, Luke. And make sure you tell Lane and Zach thank you like a thousand times for us."
"Now that we've done this before, I feel so much more relaxed this time around," Logan says once they've settled into the hospital room. He's pacing around the foot of Rory's bed, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Rory rolls her head from side to side, stretching out her neck. "You don't look relaxed."
As if to prove her wrong, he sits in the chair next to her. "See? Relaxed."
"Although, yes, you are much more relaxed than you were when Alex was born." She smiles fondly at the memory. "I always thought that dads-to-be running around like chickens with their heads cut off was an exaggeration in movies, but… it's not."
"Hey," he protests. "If I recall, you were awfully nervous, too."
She narrows her eyes at him. "I was about to give birth."
"You're right, you're right," he concedes, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. "Can you believe we're about to have another baby? Another little person?"
She doesn't answer, as another contraction begins. She squeezes his hand, breathing rapidly, and he coaches her through it, calm and practiced.
"See?" he smiles. "Much more relaxed."
She smiles back at him.
"I am worried about this kid in particular, though," he muses, and she raises an eyebrow.
"Really? Why?"
"Well, Lexi is just like you—quiet and serious and well-behaved. I'm worried that Caroline is going to be like me, and we're going to spend the next twenty years bailing her out of jail."
"Wait a minute," Lorelai says, walking into the room with coffee for her and Logan. "I think I remember an instance once where I had to bail Rory out of jail."
"Wow, Ace," Logan chuckles. "We're screwed."
"I've got it," Logan says, looking out of the window at the sunrise, Caroline, pink and soft and wrapped in a blanket, asleep in his arms.
"Got what?" Rory asks sleepily.
"What I'll call her."
"What do you mean?"
"Like how I call Alex Lexi Lu?" He shifts the baby in his arms. "Lionheart."
"Lionheart?" Rory asks.
"You'll laugh at the reason," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed so that Rory can stare at the newborn with him.
"Too tired to laugh," she whispers. "Promise."
"Caro-lion," he says, and Rory smiles. "And I was thinking about your grandfather, and Richard the Lionheart, and how everyone called your grandfather a lion, and how I think she's going to be a wild child like me. And it just came to me."
Caroline is five hours old when Lane brings Alexandra to meet her little sister.
Lane comes in first to meet and coo over her new goddaughter, and then Lorelai and Luke walk Alexandra in, helping her to climb up onto the hospital bed with Rory with several warnings to be extra, extra gentle.
"I missed you, Mommy," Alexandra says, craning her neck to look inside the blanket Rory is holding. "Is that the baby?"
"Yes," Rory answers. "Her name is Caroline. Caroline Emily."
"Like Great-Grandma?" Alex asks, and when Logan nods, she says, slowly and carefully, "Car-o-line. Baby Caroline." She looks up, and suddenly notices Lorelai at the foot of the bed, camera phone snapping away. "Mimi, are you taking pictures of us?"
"Yes," Lorelai says, voice thick.
Alexandra shrugs, accepting. "Can I hold Baby Caroline?"
"Absolutely," Logan answers, picking her up off of the bed and depositing her into the chair next to it. He lays a pillow in her lap and shows her how to hold her arms, taking the baby from Rory and laying her gently in Alex's arms, kneeling next to her with his hand under the baby's head.
"You're doing so good, big sister," Rory smiles, before looking to her mom. "Please tell me you're taking literally a thousand pictures."
"Of course."
Rory thinks back to the hazy days after Alexandra's birth, in San Francisco, even after Lorelai left, and is pretty sure that she was never this tired.
Of course, when Alexandra was born, she wasn't also responsible for a five-year-old, out of school for the summer, walking around the house complaining about how bored she was, how she missed her London friends and her London house with the nice doorman, and how the new baby didn't do anything but everybody loved her.
She has never been more grateful: for Luke and Lorelai, who take Alex to the diner or the Dragonfly to get her out of Rory's hair; for Lane and Zach, who take Alex to the pool with Steve and Kwan (who are too old to want to play with Alex, but are pretty good sports about it anyway); for Miss Patty, who insists that Alex take ballet lessons even if she is Rory's kid; and for Logan, for being Logan and a great dad, even after long days at work.
On top of how much work a newborn is, and how much work a newborn and a five-year-old are, Caroline refuses to let Rory put her down. Alexandra had been perfectly content in her car seat or bouncy seat, but if someone isn't holding Caroline, she's crying.
Stay-at-home motherhood suddenly seems never ending, and Rory laughs at the fact that she thought she would be able to work for Condé Nast or SandeeSays with two kids, with a baby.
"Mommy! Daddy!"
Alexandra bursts into their bedroom, crying in earnest, and her intrusion starts Caroline, snug in her bassinet, wailing loudly.
"Jesus Christ, Alexandra!" Logan says loudly over both of their cries. They had finally gotten Caroline asleep, and he was just dozing off before the interruption.
Alex cowers back, her lower lip quivering.
"Logan!" Rory scolds, picking up Caroline from the bassinet.
Alex looks at Rory. "I had a bad dream." Then, she turns to Logan. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Are you mad at me for making the baby cry?"
Logan sighs, holding his arms open.
"No. Daddy's sorry. I didn't mean to yell, I'm just sleepy. Come here."
Timidly, Alex crawls into bed next to Logan, who hugs her and kisses the top of her head.
"Was it a scary dream?" Rory asks, Caroline's cries turning into whimpers.
"Yes," Alex sniffs, and Logan arranges her so that she's lying on his chest, his arm securely around her.
"It's okay, Lexi Lu. You don't have to be scared. Daddy's got you."
Two weeks after Caroline's birth, April comes to visit, making the Gilmore-Danes kitchen table very crowded in the best kind of way.
"It made sense. I was always leaning toward a chem major. I just love chem labs," April explains.
"Me, too," Rory agrees.
"Beakers, clamps."
"Test tubes, Bunsen burners," Logan supplies.
"But," April continues, "I love philosophy, too. Metaphysics? Can't get enough."
"I once got in trouble for cheating on a metaphysics exam," Lorelai says. "I looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to me."
"You took metaphysics?" April asks.
"No, that was Woody Allen."
"Woody Allen took metaphysics?"
"It's from Annie Hall, the movie," Rory explains.
"I only watch German silent films."
"Oh, boy, I remember that phase," Lorelai says, smiling up at Luke.
"When did you punch a hole in your nose?" he asks, moving closer to April.
"Everyone has holes in their nose, Poppa," Alex explains matter-of-factly.
"Uh, read the Constitution," April argues. "I'm twenty-two. I get to adorn my body as I see fit."
Luke puts his hands up in surrender. "You're right. You're twenty-two. Punch all the holes you want."
April turns to Alexandra, showing her the nose ring.
"Aunt April has an extra hole in her nose, with shiny jewelry in it."
"Ooh!" Alex claps her hands in appreciation. "Can I have one of those, Daddy?"
"When you're twenty-two," Logan answers.
"Are you gonna join us?" Lorelai asks Luke.
"When I can."
"Oh, I took some great linguistics courses, too. I mean, it's MIT. Noam Chomsky walked the halls. I met him. Chatted with him, laughed with him. He's my idol." April grins widely.
"Well," Lorelai jokes, "to Noam is to love him." April only gives her a blank stare, and she taps the top of the wine bottle in front of her. "Uh, is this thing on?"
"So," Rory asks, "what are you doing this summer before graduate school?"
"Oh, well, first, I'm gonna do some traveling with friends. We're hitting a few states to canvass for pot legalization."
"For what?" Luke asks.
"It's about civil liberties," April explains. "It just happens to be about pot."
"You just made it sound way less fun," Logan laughs, and Rory nudges him with her elbow.
"Do you smoke pot?" Luke asks.
"No," April answers simply.
Lorelai turns to Logan and Rory, pantomiming inhaling a joint, and they nod and smile.
Rory is in her old room—which is technically completely April's now that she and Logan have a whole house in Stars Hollow—trying to wrangle the pack-and-play so that she and Logan can hopefully put Caroline and Alex down to sleep upstairs long enough to watch a movie with the adults, when April comes in.
"Can I talk to you?" she asks, and Rory sits on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, patting the spot beside her.
"Of course."
"So, I totally smoke pot," she admits.
"I figured."
"Don't tell Dad."
"I don't think he would mind," Rory shrugs. "Just don't operate a forklift after."
"Right. A forklift. You have an excellent sense of humor."
"Thank you."
"I don't have a great sense of humor. I know that. I'm working on it. I bought a joke book."
"That's good."
"It's hard to have a sense of humor in college these days."
She breathes heavily for a moment, and Rory turns toward her, concerned.
"April?"
"I never met Noam Chomsky. I made it up."
"Oh."
"And I've only smoked pot once. I ate so much cheese after."
"That's okay."
"I'm still kind of searching."
"Nothing wrong with searching."
"I think I'm having an anxiety attack."
Rory reaches out a hand out, rubbing her back.
"Can I get you something? Water?"
"It's just that you have your life so together."
"Me?"
"With your husband, and your two kids, and your cute new house, and you've had such cool jobs…" April trails off. "I don't want to be the screw-up in the family."
"Hey, hey," Rory soothes. "You won't be. Trust me, my life is not together. I mean, don't get me wrong, Logan and the girls are wonderful. But I haven't had a real writing job in years."
"Oh. Somehow knowing that is even worse." She puts her hands to her face. "How am I supposed to succeed if even you can't?"
"O-kay."
"My nose ring hurts," April says, plaintively, and Rory takes a deep breath.
"Okay, I am going to go give this," she gestures toward the pack-and-play, "to Logan, and he will put the kids to sleep, and we will talk."
Caroline Huntzberger attends her first Stars Hollow town meeting at three weeks old. Alexandra is at home with her new high school age babysitter, who is becoming one of her favorite people because they have "silly dance parties" in the living room. And Logan has found that town meetings are better than he ever imagined, and he has half a mind to never leave Stars Hollow so that he can watch Taylor Doose preside over them for the rest of his life.
"Oh, my god," Lorelai gasps as they walk in. "Feel that."
"Feel what?" Luke asks.
"It's not sweltering."
"Isn't it great? They finally got air conditioning," Gypsy explains as they walk past her. "We don't have to sweat like pigs anymore."
"Except Kirk's pig," Lorelai says as Petal comes through, oinking.
"Oh, hey, kiddo," Gypsy says to Rory. "Congrats on the new baby. Can I see her?"
Logan smiles and angles his arms so that Gypsy can get a good look at Caroline. Suddenly, the rest of the town is asking the same, and Logan is walking around the room showing her off with a proud smile on his face.
"Wow, she's just a perfect little doll," Babette says loudly.
"She is," Logan agrees, taking a seat, and Rory leans her head on his shoulder.
"Welcome to Stars Hollow, Mr. Huntzberger. The locals seem to have accepted you."
"Surely you knew I had ulterior motives in being the one to hold the Lionheart."
"All right, everyone, settle in please," Taylor begins. "Hope you're all enjoying the nice, cool air in here. And I hope you'll enjoy the very big announcement I get to make tonight."
"Ah, yes!" Logan says to Rory, grinning in anticipation.
"Ladies and gentleman, Stars Hollow is going to—"
All of sudden, Taylor is cut off by a loud, mechanical noise. Logan quickly tries to shield Caroline's ears with his free hand.
"Shh, shh," he soothes.
"The hell is that?" Lorelai asks.
Luke leans over to her. "What?"
"The hell is that?"
"I don't know what you're saying."
"It's the air conditioner!" Babette yells into his ear, and he jumps.
"That, I heard."
"It feels like an earthquake!" Rory says, fishing through the diaper bag in her lap for a pacifier.
"Strawberry shortcake?" Lorelai asks her.
"What?"
"You said something about strawberry shortcake."
"Taylor, shut it off!" Luke shouts.
"Now I'm hungry for strawberry shortcake," Lorelai complains.
"I can't! It turns on and off by itself," Taylor explains.
"We're about to have a very upset baby on our hands," Logan says, trying to get Caroline to take the pacifier.
It stops as suddenly as it started, and everyone sighs in relief.
"It might need some adjustment," Luke suggests.
"Back to my announcement," Taylor says. "But first, a little backstory. Our summer tourist numbers are down. Even at the pool, revenues are off, which I attribute to the recent criminal activity involving the floaty hut."
"The floaty hut?" Luke asks. "What happened to my floaty hut?"
"I thought you didn't want people to know you donated the floaty hut," Lorelai whispers.
"I don't," Luke explains, "but it's my floaty hut."
"Our Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer event is coming up, and that'll help, but we thought that a supersize event would generate fresh enthusiasm for tourists to visit."
"Ace," Logan says. "I am so excited right now."
"Therefore," Taylor continues, waving his arms, "I am pleased to announce… Stars Hollow: The Musical."
Logan turns to Rory, grinning. "Oh. My. God."
"This is really why you wanted to move to Stars Hollow, isn't it?" she asks.
"This will be an enchanting musical history of Stars Hollow," Taylor explains. "Book and lyrics by, uh, yours truly."
"Of course," Logan whispers.
"Music by a very talented young composer. He once lived in Brooklyn."
"Wow," Logan breathes. "That is incredible."
"Would you stop?" Rory complains, elbowing him.
"Nat Compton." Taylor points him out. "That's Nat sitting at the end of the first row there. He'll be directing as well. Let's give him a nice hand."
Logan, unable to clap because of Caroline, wolf-whistles.
"Whoa, give him a crystal sword, he's a White Walker," Rory observes.
"Now, our biggest hurdle will be finding our leading lady," Taylor laments. "She's got to be a great singer, a terrific actress, a nimble dancer, a dexterous whittler."
"She has to whittle?" Andrew asks.
"Or fake it."
"How do you fake whittling?" Sophie calls out.
"Yeah, they'd see that there's no shavings coming off the wood." Bootsy shakes his head. "Come on, Taylor, production values matter."
"Now, what I need you from tonight are volunteers for the musical's advisory committee. You'll come to a couple of the shows, and give us any ideas that will help make it all that it can be. Who's in?"
"Logan, this is your chance!" Rory says, and he frowns.
"I don't have the time, Ace. Not with work and two kids. Trust me, I'm despondent."
The air conditioner cranks on again, and the town groans, Logan rolling his eyes and trying to cover the baby's ears once more.
"I'll do it in your place," Lorelai says loudly. "I think it sounds fun."
"What?" Rory asks.
"The advisory committee. I'm gonna volunteer for it."
"You think you got the time?" Luke asks.
"8:30," Lorelai shrugs.
"I think he asked you if you have the time," Rory says.
"I gave it to him!"
"For the committee!"
"Oh, yeah. I'll make time."
"I'm gonna sign up too!" Babette yells, and Luke plugs his ears.
"Babette, please, warn us!"
"I think it sounds fun!" Lorelai says.
"It sounds really fun!" Logan agrees, leaning over Rory to speak to his mother-in-law.
"I just hope the show is as successful as Taylor needs it to be," Babette says, and Luke turns his head to her.
"Once again, warn us."
"It's really got to pack them in!"
"If Taylor really wanted to pack them in," Lorelai begins, "he should just get up on that stage and dance around," the air conditioner stops, but Lorelai continues, "in his floppy Taylor underpants."
The town looks around awkwardly, and Lorelai shifts in her seat.
"It was so out of context."
"So, who's up for being on the advisory committee?" A few raise their hands, and Taylor takes a count. "Lorelai, Tom, and Sophie."
Babette raises her hand. "I'm there, Taylor."
"I can make it work," Gypsy volunteers.
"Me, too," Donald says.
Taylor grins. "Well, I am loving the community spirit here. Neither of our newest residents, though?" he asks, looking at Logan and Rory.
"Sorry, Taylor," Logan smiles. "I definitely would if we didn't have the new baby."
"Well—"
"I'm volunteering in his place," Lorelai explains.
"Um, schedules to be announced." He sighs. "Now, our, uh, last issue, people. This unfortunately is… less pleasant."
"So we're finally back to the floaty hut?" Luke asks.
"Who gives a crap about the floaty hut?" Bootsy complains.
"I don't. I'm just curious."
"If you're so curious, why don't you marry it?"
The crowd chuckles, and Logan shakes his head in defeat.
"After eighty-nine years of continual operation," Taylor announces, "the Stars Hollow Gazette is shutting down."
"Are you kidding?" Rory asks, wide-eyed.
"I'm gonna miss the coupons," Gypsy laments.
"I'm gonna miss the poem on the front," Bootsy chimes in.
"Yeah, the seasonal poem," Sophie agrees.
"Why is it shutting down, Taylor? Money?" Rory asks, frantically looking to Logan.
"No, no, it was still operating in the black. But the paper's editor, Bernie Roundbottom—"
Lorelai chuckles, and Logan smirks, mouthing seriously?
"Bernie retired as editor, and there's no one qualified to take his place."
"Oh, well, it had a good run," Donald shrugs.
Sophie nods. "Eighty-nine years, not bad."
"Really?" Rory asks, turning around in her seat. "Am I the only one who's in shock over this news?"
"Well, I had discussed the possibility of the Gazette shutting down at an earlier meeting, before you were an official resident."
"You mean an official resident again," Rory corrects.
"So unless there's any additional business anyone would like to bring up…"
"What about the floaty hut?" Luke asks, emphasizing each syllable.
"Really, get a room," Bootsy says.
"What about it?" Taylor asks. "The floaty hut is broken and down for the season."
"Well, did they find the bums who broke it?"
"I wonder what Luke and the floaty hut's kids are going to look like," Bootsy muses.
"Will you shut up."
Rory stands up, facing the crowd.
"Excuse me… Um, excuse me, everybody… I gotta say, just shutting down the Stars Hollow Gazette like this, with all its tradition and all its history, without even putting up the tiniest fight, it just seems…" The air conditioner groans back on, and Rory waits, shifting from foot to foot until it cuts off again. "…wrong."
"They're still closing," Taylor says matter-of-factly. "Have a good night, people!"
Rory sits, frowning, and Logan pats her back supportively. "You tried, Ace."
"The Stars Hollow Gazette can't close!" Rory paces back and forth in front of the couch. "I've read that paper my whole life! The Gazette is where I got my love of words!"
"I'm so sorry, Ace," Logan says. "You know that if it was a money thing—"
"I know." She sighs. "And it's not like there's anyone else in town qualified to be editor. I mean, it's not Spotlight at the Boston Globe. It's never gonna blow the lid off a cabal of buggering priests. But we only have one priest in town. And he's a good man. That's not the Gazette's fault." She stops pacing, and Logan, recognizing the look on her face, gets up and stands in front of her.
"Rory, you had a baby three weeks ago."
"I know."
"There's a reason maternity leave is at least six weeks long."
She shrugs. "Okay, so I start in three weeks."
He smiles. "Knock 'em dead, Ace."
Rory puts out her first Gazette five days later, because she figures that she can take Caroline to work with her and it'll be fine.
Logan puts a mug of coffee in front of Rory and she grins.
"I love coffee. I missed coffee."
He kisses her head before sitting down, picking up the paper.
"So I've heard some grumblings around town about there not being a seasonal poem in this paper." He smirks. "Because this is a place where you hear grumblings around town, and also people say, 'your wife didn't put the seasonal poem in the paper'."
Rory rolls her eyes. "I am so tired of hearing about that poem."
"And Doyle wrote a movie review?"
"Which I had to cut twenty thousand words out of."
"You didn't ask me to write anything."
"Ah, yes, Logan Huntzberger, in all of your free time, would you like to write something for the Stars Hollow Gazette? Since you're an official resident now?"
"I'm hungry," comes a small voice from the living room, and Logan stands, moving to the pantry.
"I'll think about it, since you asked so nicely."
Rory picks up her phone. "I need to call my grandma," she says, slipping into the dining room.
"Hello?" Emily answers.
"Grandma."
"Yes."
"It's Rory."
"Oh! Rory. Hello."
"Are you okay?"
"Uh, I guess. I… I just need some coffee," Emily says groggily. "Berta, have the cousins bring me coffee!"
"Did I… just wake you up?" Rory asks.
"No, I was just dozing."
"Are you sick?"
"No, I… I'm fine. What time is it?"
"It's almost noon."
"Already?"
"Noon is when dock workers and rock stars get up," Rory recites. "Are you doing some kind of moonlighting that I don't know about?"
"Uh, no. Where are my glasses?"
"Listen, we'd like to come see you. When are you free?"
"I don't know. What day is it?"
"It's Saturday."
"Well," Emily says, thinking. "I have a DAR meeting on Thursday, but other than that, I'm free."
"Okay, so maybe I'll—"
"Wait a minute. Hold on. Berta, was that the door?" she calls. "I'm sorry, Rory, I have to go."
"Grandma—" Rory starts, but the line disconnects. Rory frowns at the phone, walking back into the kitchen.
"How was she, Ace?" Logan asks, pouring a cup of juice for Alex.
"My grandma was asleep, and it's almost noon."
"Really?"
"I woke her up! I woke up Emily Gilmore at noon."
"Weird."
Rory stops by, Caroline in tow, at three o'clock on Thursday, when she knows the DAR meeting ends. She had wanted Logan and Alexandra to come by, too, but with how strange it was for Emily Gilmore to be asleep at noon, Rory figured that it was not the best idea to spring the whole family on her at one time.
"Well, this is a surprise," Emily greets. "Did I know you were coming? Did I forget? Have I officially become an old woman?"
"No, not you. Never. I just popped by to see if you were home."
They walk inside, where Berta is speaking rapidly to the DAR ladies, none of whom have any idea what she's saying.
"They're gonna miss their hair appointments," Emily smirks, "and it's all their fault."
Rory stops suddenly. "Uh, Grandma?"
"Yes?'
"There's a TV in here."
"Yes, there is. So would you like something to eat? I have Berta puffs from today and some mystery soup from last night."
"No, I'm fine. Grandma, why is there a TV in here?"
"Well, one of Berta's cousins heard me talking about a live opera that was coming on, and it was during dinner time, so they brought it down and set it up for me."
"You ate in the living room?" Rory asks incredulously.
"Yes."
"On this?" She points to the coffee table. "It's a Duncan Phyfe!"
"I didn't eat on the coffee table. They set this up for me."
She pulls out a folding TV tray table, and Rory gapes.
"Am I being punk'd?"
"You're being dramatic."
Rory puts Caroline's car seat down on the floor, walking across the room to Emily.
"Grandma, have you been getting out of the house at all?"
"Of course I have, I'm not a shut-in," Emily protests.
"I mean socializing, not just running errands. Have you been getting together with people?"
"I was just with the girls."
Caroline starts crying, and Rory sighs.
"She hates the carrier. She wants to be held, or she cries."
"Here, I'll hold her," Emily offers, and Rory unbuckles her daughter and places her in Emily's arms, where she quiets.
"I don't mean DAR meetings," Rory continues. "Have you been doing anything fun?"
"Yes, I'm full of fun." She looks down at the baby. "Aren't I, Caroline?"
"You were asleep at noon the other day."
"So?"
"Well, it's not like you. I mean, do you go to the club anymore? You and Grandpa used to love the club."
Emily shrugs. "I'm not even sure if my membership is up-to-date."
"Well, renew it."
"Why?"
"You're far too young to be sitting in front of a TV tray, watching Matlock."
"Matlock isn't on anymore," Emily argues.
"It's in repeats."
"I'm watching PBS, not Matlock. I'm not ninety."
"And that's my point. Maybe you should go out at night, mingle, dance a little, have fun."
Berta laughs, and Emily hands the baby back to her mother.
"I should go save the ladies. Berta, they have to go. They all have hair appointments."
"No cigar?" a familiar voice asks, the door to the Gazette opening. "I pictured you chomping a fat cigar."
"Doctor told me to cut back." Rory grins. "Esther, Charlie, this is Jess. He's Luke Danes' nephew."
"Hello," Charlie greets.
"I remember you," Esther says. "Punk."
"Good to see you again, Esther."
She rubs her finger over Caroline's head—the baby snug against her in a grey wrap. "And Caroline, this is your Uncle Jess. Want to hold her?"
"Absolutely." Rory starts to undo the wrap and he smiles. "Sorry it took so long for me to come and see her."
"Hey, she's barely a month old. Right on time." She hands the baby over. "Alex was content to sit anywhere in a car seat, but this one has to be held or she cries. At least the wrap works. We were exhausted."
Jess cradles the baby, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "She is just beautiful, Rory."
"Thanks! We like her so far."
"Sleep deprivation not withstanding."
"Of course. When did you get in?"
"Just now. I'm meeting Luke; we've got Mom maintenance to do. You hear she and TJ accidentally joined some cult?"
"Yes, and that vegetables were involved."
"And an eight million-year contract," Jess continues.
"I heard it was six."
"Well, as editor of the Gazette, you have better sources than me, Mr. Roundbottom."
"What?"
He flips the nameplate on her desk around—Bernie Roundbottom, Editor.
"Oh."
"Can't wait to hear how you bagged the job."
"It was the usual thing. I submitted my résumé, plus samples of my work. I was thoroughly vetted; there were several lengthy interviews. Plus complex negotiations over salary, benefits, parking."
"You asked Taylor."
"Pretty much." She sighs. "It's good to see you."
"You, too. And this little one."
"How about some lunch?"
"Sure."
She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses.
Jess nods in approval. "Very Lou Grant."
"The perks of the baby now being on the outside. And last time I checked, grain was a food group." She hands Jess a glass. "Bottoms up."
"Roundbottoms up."
"So, how are you? Luke tells me that the book press is going great."
"It's doing okay."
"So you've got Dave Eggers shaking in his boots?"
Jess chuckles. "If Dave Eggers even knows we exist, I'd be happy."
"And in other stuff? Personal life?"
"Stable. Nothing permanent. What about you, other than this cute new thing? I heard you guys officially moved to Stars Hollow?"
Rory nods. "For a little bit, at least. So that we have help with the baby and with having two kids." She sighs. "This is the only job I could get. People come up to me and smell me."
"I imagine you smell like very expensive perfume."
She ignores him. "I smell like failure. Headmaster Charleston told me to go get my master's so that I can come back and teach at Chilton. He could smell it. I went and interviewed at a website that I hate. They passed. They can smell it."
"No one's smelling anything," Jess protests, shifting the baby in his arms. "Look, you've got a great husband, you have two beautiful daughters…"
Rory sighs. "I know. But I'm bored. And I'm horrible for saying that, and feeling that, but I miss working. I miss having something to do, other than change diapers and fold laundry."
"This is a rut. It's temporary," he says soothingly.
"Or not."
"You're a writer. Ruts are normal."
"My friend Doyle's a Hollywood writer now. He's always telling me to write a spec script."
"You're not writing a spec script."
"He gave me a copy of The Mysteries of Laura. Is that a show?"
"You need to find something to write that you're passionate about." He sits up straighter in his chair, moving Caroline to lie against his shoulder.
"Do you want me to take her?"
"No, I'm good."
Rory sighs, pressing her hands to her forehead. "What is this foreign concept you speak of? Passion? Is that really a thing?"
"You just gotta find that thing that makes you feel, so that your readers feel it. What makes you feel?"
"I feel like I haven't slept in a month."
He leans forward. "You should write a book."
"Ugh, thanks for the Naomi Shropshire flashbacks. Lovely."
"And I know what you should write."
She sighs. "What, o great all-knowing Jess?"
"You should write about you and your mom."
"What?"
"It's a cool story. It's got a point of view, and it's something only you can write. Now that you have daughters of your own, you can talk about how that makes you view your childhood, or how it affects the way you're raising them. Think about it."
He looks outside the window, where Luke is waiting.
"I gotta go." He gently kisses the top of Caroline's head, handing her back over to Rory. "Thanks for lunch. I'll see you at family dinner."
Rory climbs into bed, taking one more peek into Caroline's bassinet before turning off the lamp.
"What were you up to?" Logan asks, turning off his own lamp.
"Um… I was writing."
"Yeah? That's great! What were you writing?"
She shifts over into his side, laying her head on his chest.
"So, Jess came to see me at the Gazette earlier."
"It was good to see him," Logan muses. "Now that neither of us are ridiculous adolescent males, I think we kind of like each other."
"For that I am so glad."
"So what were you writing?"
"Well, when he came to see me, I kind of… complained. About how bored I am, not really writing anything. I mean, I'm glad that I've kept the Gazette alive, but it's not extremely intellectually stimulating. And he… well, he gave me an idea. And it was a great one."
"What is it?"
She picks her head up, leaning on one elbow. "A book. About me and my mom. About our life, and our relationship."
"That does sound like an interesting story."
"Right? And it's something that I know all about, that I have a point-of-view on. I sat down tonight and outlined the first five chapters. Just like that." She grimaces. "Sorry for leaving you with bedtime duty."
"No," he dismisses. "I like putting them to bed. Listening to Lexi Lu read me a story while I feed the Lionheart a bottle is literally the best part of my day." He reaches out to run his fingers through her hair. "I think that's a sign, Ace, that it was so easy."
"Yeah? Me too."
She lays her head back down, and he kisses her cheek.
"Hey Ace, you ready?" Logan asks, walking into the Gazette office.
"Come on, Mommy!" Alexandra chirps, letting go of Logan's hand to run to Rory at her desk.
"Sorry, I last track of time. I was working."
"Exciting," Logan smiles. "Here, let me take the baby."
Rory unwraps her, handing her to Logan to put her in her car seat.
"My mom called me, very upset, because apparently my grandma might have a boyfriend."
"A boyfriend?" Alex asks, and Rory frowns.
"Apparently Great-Grandma has a friend who is going with us to the cemetery today. His name is Jack and you have to be extra nice to him," Rory explains.
"And don't ask him a million questions," Logan warns.
Alex sighs. "Daddy, you already told me that I have to be super good and quiet today, and I said I would be. And I will."
"You don't have to wrangle both of them," Rory says, as Logan unbuckles Caroline.
"This is your grandfather," he says. "You take the flowers, be with your mom and grandma. I'll take care of the girls."
"Fine. You're amazing."
He smirks. "Don't you ever forget it."
Lorelai walks over, nodding her head in Jack and Emily's direction.
"So that's the honey badger?" Rory asks.
"That's him."
"So how was the drive?"
"Cologne scented."
"Hello, honey," Emily greets, hugging Rory. She moves to Logan, who hugs her with the arm not holding the baby. "Hi, Logan. And Caroline," she says, cradling the baby's head in her hand. "And oh, Alexandra, you look just darling. Come, give me a hug." Alex obeys, and Emily offers her hand. "Come walk with Great-Grandma, sweetheart. Jack is going to wait for us in the car. Shall we?"
They greet the man in charge of the headstones, who smiles as he unveils Richard Gilmore's fifth stone.
"It was newly polished this morning," he explains. "The coal grey is just the right shade, there's a dash in front of the Longfellow—"
"There's single quotation marks," Emily interrupts. "Around the quote. It was supposed to be double quotation marks."
"Of course it was."
"It was correct on all the stones before this. Why would you change it?"
"I am going to look into this," the man promises, and Emily follows him, relinquishing Alex's hand.
"I'm coming with you. This is ridiculous. This is the fourth one."
"Fifth," Lorelai corrects.
Emily looks back at her. "Stay here."
"Okay."
"I think the single quotes look fine," Rory shrugs.
"Let her have what she wants," Lorelai tells her.
Rory nods to the grave. "Grandma's still got your back, Grandpa. Well, this gives me a chance to fix his flowers." She and Lorelai kneel next to the headstone.
"Here, take these," Lorelai says.
"You know what's the only thing I don't really like about our new house?" Rory asks her mom.
"What?"
"I don't have a dedicated writing space."
"Ah, for your super secret Manhattan project."
"Could be."
"Does Logan know what it is?"
"Of course."
Lorelai chuckles. "Of course. So come on, what is it? Tell, tell."
"Well, it's a book."
"You bought one?"
"No."
"Borrowed one?"
"No."
"Burned one?"
"No. I am writing a book."
"Really?" Lorelai asks. "Nutty Naomi changed her mind?"
"Oh, no. I'm writing this solo. No crazy collaborators."
"Wow!"
"I know, right?"
"So, what's it about? I'm dying to hear." She looks around at their surroundings. "Sorry, just an expression," she chuckles at her own joke. "Is it a love story? A mystery? A feel-good puppy, kitten, pony, raccoon, travel across country to enter a cow in the county fair story?"
Rory shakes her head. "It's non-fiction."
"So is the puppy, kitten, pony, raccoon, cow county fair caper."
"No animals, no capers." She turns to look at Logan, who nods. "It's about me. And you."
Lorelai freezes. "Me and you?"
"Yes."
"And do we fight crime?"
Rory chuckles. "It's about our relationship. Our mother-daughter thing. The friend thing. It's our journey, and the journey you took before I was born."
"Hmmm." Lorelai stands, and Rory follows her, Logan leading Alexandra away from them.
"Maybe I glossed over it too much. Just… picture this. It starts. You're sixteen, you're pregnant. You're packing up to leave Grandma's house. It's a riches-to-rags story. It's got everything. Family struggle, class warfare, the independent woman thing. And from there, I'm gonna tell the story chronologically, or I might jump back and forth a bit, I haven't decided yet, but—"
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean, no, I don't want you to write that."
"You don't understand. Let me pitch it again."
"I get it. No."
"Why?"
"Because it's my life."
"It's our life," Rory explains.
"Yeah. You write your side of it."
"My side?"
"Yeah."
"And who would I be talking to?"
Lorelai laughs. "I don't know, Mrs. Muir. Find a ghost."
"Mom. Come on. I have to do this."
"You don't have my permission."
Rory looks around, folding her arms. "We should go somewhere else."
"The dead don't have ears."
"But there are people behind us, including my daughter, who I don't want to see us fight."
Lorelai sighs, following Rory a little ways away.
"Where is this coming from? What inspired you?"
"I was frustrated. I was talking to Jess—"
"Jess?" Lorelai asks. "How the hell did he get into this?"
"When he was here, visiting Luke."
"Oh, great. I'm looking forward to Jess' take on me. That's terrific."
"It's not his take on you."
"Sorry, kid. Write about something else."
"No."
"Write about your relationships. Your marriage. You and Jess and Dean."
"They'll be in it, too. And Al and Caroline, and how my relationship with you has affected my parenting."
"It's my life, Rory. I went to all this effort for many, many years, making sure people only knew what I wanted them to know. And now you're gonna lay it all out in a book? I don't want my mother finding out I left you in a bucket in a hardware store in chapter six."
"Are you kidding me?"
"You're thirty-two years old. She'll still petition the court to have you taken away from me."
"This is such an overreaction."
"Oh, really?" Lorelai asks. "Do you know that your grandmother called you Susan until you were two years old?"
Rory shakes her head. "She did not."
"In fact, write a book about that, about a woman who leaves a baby in a bucket and her own mother takes her to court. It's a perfect Lifetime movie. Maggie Smith can play the mother."
"Mom, come on."
"You didn't think this through, kid."
"No, I did think through. I am not a kid. This was not a whim. I sat down last night and outlined the first five chapters, just like that. That's a sign."
"What sign?"
"That this is it. This is what I'm supposed to do."
"No."
Rory sighs. "I'm sorry. I have to. Without this, it's grad school, or groveling for jobs that I don't want. Or being a stay-at-home mom and doing nothing."
"Find another subject!"
"So I'm supposed to not do something that could change my future because you don't want Grandma to find out that you left me in a bucket? That's what this boils down to?"
"More or less."
"But you did leave me in a bucket!"
"Okay, do whatever you want, Rory. You're a big girl. I can't stop you."
"No," Rory protests. "No, that's not how you and I work. We don't do the passive-aggressive thing. That's how you and your mother work. You're supposed to be on my side. I need this. Can't you understand that?"
"I understand. I always understand. For the last thirty-two years, I have been the queen of understanding."
"Mom, stop. Please, give me this."
"I can't. Not this time."
Rory sighs. "Tell Grandma that I will check in on her later." She walks away, calling "so much for the happy news!" over her shoulder.
"Come on, guys," she says to Logan and Alex, and Logan snakes his free arm around her shoulders.
"You okay, Ace?"
"No."
Rory paces around the foot of the bed, and Logan puts down the book he's reading to look at her.
"Come on, Ace. Talk to me. I'm here"
"She was unbelievable. Right out of left field, crazy Lorelai face appears. I mean, I've seen it before, but usually it's when somebody cuts off her car, or at a shoe sale." She sighs. "A book. She totally freaked out over a book."
"It was weird," Logan agrees.
"She knows I'm a writer. She knows everything is fodder. Write what you know. You know what I know?"
He smiles softly. "Lorelai?"
"Lorelai, yes. And me. And our life. I know that crap like the back of my hand. It could be so good, but she just wouldn't listen."
"I'm sorry, babe."
"It was so awful," she says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "I can't believe we were just in the middle of a cemetery, yelling at each other. There were mourners all around us."
"Well," Logan says, rubbing her back, "their day wasn't so fun anyway."
"And you were there, and our kid could hear us."
Logan shakes his head. "She was playing games on my phone. She was oblivious."
"What am I gonna do?" she whispers.
"Hey, she'll calm down."
Rory chuckles darkly. "She looked at me the way she looks at Grandma. That hurt. And, I mean… I don't know what I was thinking." She leans back against Logan, and he wraps his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. "Of course she wouldn't want me to write about us. I just… I couldn't acknowledge it because I want to do this so badly." She closes her eyes. "I'm exhausted."
"Hey," he soothes, rubbing her arms. "Let's go to bed."
A/N: Can you believe there's only one chapter left? Please leave a comment letting me know what you think about this section!