Chapter 4: 21 Years Later

Late fall, 2016. Rory Gilmore, now in her thirties, drove through the streets of Boston. Checking the piece of paper she had printed out in Stars Hollow, she finally found the house owned by the Haydens. She found her father leaning against the porch column, smiling with ease. He sauntered over as she pulled up.

Rory stepped out. "Hi, Dad," she murmured meekly.

Christopher just stared. "You look beautiful," he finally said softly, and he meant it. It struck him just how much of a young woman she had become; he hadn't seen his daughter in several years.

Father and daughter climbed back into the car, Rory at the wheel. They were just going to go for a drive and chat, out in the countryside beyond the city. Getting to the rural areas went by in silence. Christopher finally spoke:

"So, I heard through the grape vine you're staying with your mom? Have the journalism jobs been hard to find?"

Rory nodded. "Especially now, when our so-called 'President-elect' has been vilifying the media. But even before that, I don't think I've had as much work as I did ever since President Obama's first campaign."

Christopher nodded. "Right out of Yale. I remember. I was so proud of you; told all my colleagues at work!"

Rory side-eyed him, surprised and secretly pleased. "You did?"

"Of course!"

Another lull in the conversation. "How are Sherry and Gigi?"

"Fine. They'll be out all day shopping, to give us some space." Another silence. "Tough crowd," Chris observed, half to himself. "Why don't you put on some music?"

Rory smirked, amused, before digging out her iPhone and clipping it to the dash. "You taking requests?"

"Nah, surprise me!" He took note of the phone. "Latest edition?"

"Nope. This is a number 5, I think. Old, but reliable."

A sudden thought struck Christopher. "You wouldn't happen to still have that Walkman I gave you when you were 11, do you? It's OK if you don't; the thing's obsolete now..."

"I do, actually! Just buried in one of my boxes of stuff at Mom's."

The first song came on - a rap beat. But not just any rap beat:

"Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? / Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? / Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? / Son, that attitude may be your doom..."

"Whoa, whoa!" Christopher protested. "Switch to something else! Seriously - that the hippest you have? What about other rappers?"

Rory gave her father a deadpan expression. "Daddy: the only rapper I listen to is Lin-Manuel Miranda." She laughed as Christopher began to dig through her playlist, obviously not believing her. "You won't find anything else. It's all Broadway. No Aerosmith, no Bieber and definitely no Lil Yachty!"

"Lil Yachty? Why does that sound like some kind of board game?"

"I said Yachty; not Yahtzee!" Rory shrugged, secretly impressed by her own rapier wit. "I am very geeky in my musical tastes."

Chris smiled as he continued to flip through her songs. "I wouldn't say that, princess. Maroon 5... Rascal Flatts... OK, I'm sorry, but Phil Collins is sooooooo old school! He was me and your mom's generation!"

Rory gasped in faux outrage. "You watched Tarzan with me when I was 15, and you liked it! Take that back!"

"No. He went to seed after he left Genesis!"

"Says the person who used to argue with Mom over who was better: The Offspring or Metallica. Really?"

"Rory, it was a different time..."

"Heck yeah, 'It was a different time'! Those groups are so old, I don't even know who they are! Oh, but Phil Collins is the one who's supposedly 'old school'?" A brief pause and then Rory let out a sudden bark of laughter.

"What?" Christopher frowned.

"I knew it! I knew I got my musical inclinations from you."

"Did not!"

"Did too. I seem to recall Mom telling me you played a mean guitar back in your day..."

Christopher chuckled. "Well, that's when your old man was in his bad boy phase - did she mention that? Your grandparents were being very stifling in what she and I could do for fun. One time, they dragged us to the theatre."

Rory raised an eyebrow, her interest yet again piqued. "Was it a musical?"

"It was a play that had songs in it. That much I know..."

"Then it's a musical..."

"I seem to remember everyone was holding hands and singing about Nazis in some trippy Kumbaya moment..."

Rory gasped. "Cabaret!"

"Yeah, that."

Having run out of things to say, the car grew silent once more. Rory took a deep breath. She had to tell him. Had to tell him now! Do it quick - like a Band-Aid...

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if you've talked with Mom in the last few weeks or so, but..."

"But what, sweetpea..."

She turned to him, tears in her eyes. "I'm pregnant." Christopher only stared at her, eyes wide. "Say something!"

"Pull over." The request threw the youngest Gilmore lady, and for a second, she feared that her father would storm off in a rage if she did get off the highway. But his request had not come out in an angry way; in fact, he almost had sounded ill...

As soon as the wheels slid up onto the grass, Christopher half-stumbled out of the car. Rory watched in horror, as he began to dry-heave before finally throwing up. "Daddy? Daddy!"

The throwing up diminished into mere hacking coughs; Rory knelt in the grass and placed a hand on her Dad's shoulder. He finally found enough voice with which to speak:

"I'm sorry. It's just... I flashed back to when your mom told me she was carrying you and I panicked. I... Rory, this isn't what I wanted for you. I've failed you!"

Yes, you did, Rory almost spoke aloud, but dared not to at the last minute. His presence in her life had been sporadic at best, full of broken promises that then had to be mended with almost forced attendance to certain events; her graduations from both Chilton and Yale being the two best examples. She began to cry.

"No, I failed myself."

"The... father... will he be there?"

"I don't think so," Rory almost whispered, deciding to keep the details of Logan's engagement close to her chest.

That answer was not the one Christopher wanted to hear. He groaned and buried his head in his hands. "It's... it's happening again!"

Rory now burst into full-on tears. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I didn't... I... I'm scared!"

Seeing his daughter in distress, Christopher steeled himself. Maybe he hadn't always been there for Rory when she needed him most, but this right here was a golden opportunity for him to do so. "All right, listen to me: let's get in the car. Turn around; I'll drive."

They drove back to Christopher's place in silence. When he ushered Rory in, the house lay empty.

"Good, Sherry and Gigi aren't home yet." Christopher threw his keys into a catch-all in the foyer and led Rory to what looked like a dining room. The young journalist was shocked to find a grand piano leaning against one wall, which Christopher now opened and sat down at.

"Moments like these - you need to let some emotions out. Sing."

Rory stared at her father. "Sing what? What are you going to play?"

He just looked at her. "You know the song. Just let it out." And suddenly, he began to play very familiar chords - chords that Rory had heard falling asleep in her childhood. She jumped in tentatively:

"On my own, pretending he's beside me / All alone, I walk with him till morning. / Without him, I feel his arms around me. / And when I lose my way, I close my eyes... and he has found me... / And I know it's only in my mind, that I'm taking to myself, and not to him / And although I know that he is blind. / Still I say, there's a way for us. / I love him, but when the night is over / He is gone. The river's just a river... / I love him, but every day I'm learning / All my life, I've only been pretending! / Without me, his world will go on turning... / I love him, but only on my own."

Christopher played along expertly, even softly joining in with his daughter at some moments. By the time the song ended, Rory was actually crying again. Only this time, a laugh popped up through her tears.

"You liar! Jury has reached a verdict, Your Honor - this man did pass his music genes down to me!"

Christopher slouched on the piano bench, raising his hands off the keys. He smiled almost sheepishly. "I actually took your mom to this show when we first started dating. I thought I could woo her that much faster with the drama and tragedy."

Rory just shook her head and smiled. "And obviously it must have worked, for here I am!"

Her father laughed. "Point taken." A pause and then he admitted. "You know, I wish you hadn't given up theatre when you were 11."

Rory shrugged. "Well, I'm writing a book now. Maybe it'll kick start some job offers at news outlets."

Christopher grinned. "I'd love to read it." He stood and gave her a hug. "Lorelai Leigh Gilmore... this new situation of yours won't be easy. Take it from someone who knows. I may not have always been there for you back then, but I promise you I will be here for you now. So will your mom and Luke. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Christopher blinked and stared at her. "Since when have you called me, 'Sir'?"

"Since when have you called me by my full name?"

"Touché." The father walked his daughter to her car. "Text me when you're at your mom's safely." He turned to go.

"Dad!"

He turned back.

Rory smiled. "Thanks. A lot. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

Christopher shrugged. "You're my girl. And I do my best to take care of my girls. Sherry, Gigi, you... your mom."

And he watched from the porch as Rory's car disappeared into the night. Maybe, in getting to be a grandfather before his time, he could be the father Rory had always wanted him to be...

A/N: This - or at least something close to it - is how I imagine Rory telling Christopher about her pregnancy after the Revival's end.