Chapter 6: Where to Turn?
It had been yet another night of raucous, frantic lovemaking. The past six weeks had been the happiest of Rory's time at Yale. It was Monday morning, no classes for either of them until well into the afternoon, so they could afford to sleep in.
As the milky vestiges of sleep disappeared from Rory's eyes, she stirred against her boyfriend. Marty was still out cold, and she nearly laughed when she discovered that his mouth was still part-way consuming her breast; he had been particularly fixated on her nipples the previous evening, feasting on them. A bit of drool now ran along her womanly curves. He looked so cute, that Rory felt terrible about possibly waking him up, so she moved as quietly as she could. But even her best efforts could not prevent Marty from rousing.
"What... what's going on?" he slurred, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Sssh..." Rory whispered, bending over to tenderly kiss his lips. "Go back to sleep, honey."
"Rory...?" He feebly reached for her. "Don't go..."
Rory giggled and kissed him again. "I have to shower." She slipped on her bathrobe and padded into the common room, then took a right into the suite's bathroom. At least, she had a dorm this year with private bathrooms. Leave it to Paris to find the very best for them on campus.
As she luxuriated in the warm water, Rory felt giddy, lightheaded. The last time she had felt this happy had been, well... her idyllic childhood in Stars Hollow. Growing up with her mom at the Inn. The sex with Marty was amazing...
A thought suddenly struck her. Her period... when was the last time she had it?
Peeking out from behind the shower curtain, she strained to peruse the calendar hung on the back of the bathroom door. The subtle red dot was always in the bottom right-hand corner, anticipated and meticulously plotted in advance for the entire academic term. Someone as sweetly innocent as Marty would not notice the subliminal messaging. Paris Geller would, and did, taking the opportunity to snidely scold Rory for her lack of imagination in color coding.
Rory had no choice but to step out of the shower, leaving the water running, to peer closer. She hadn't been imagining. The most recent red dot was nearly a full week back. A chill, in addition to the cold of the bathroom, sent goosebumps up her skin and she leaped back into the comfort of the warm water. Only this time, she hardly felt it.
She finished quickly, and wrapping a towel around herself, bent under the sink, rummaging for the tests she knew Paris had stored. Rory had been the one to insist they kept a stock on hand, even over Paris's loud objections that she didn't see the necessity, for two very feminist ladies like themselves. That is where Paris's cold realism could be a little... well, unrealistic. Being a feminist didn't mean you always kept your knees firmly closed. And with Doyle constantly flitting in and out, Paris wasn't exactly fooling anyone, no matter how much she might try and deny it.
Rory took the test, as her mother had taught her upon the milestone of her first period. She had been 13 then, and remembered the incident well; Lorelai had skirted on the edge of having a nervous breakdown (likely PTSD flashbacks to her own pregnancy) - so much so, that she had called poor Luke and made him go and buy the tests from Dosse's Market. Rory did not think she would ever again see the Diner owner as red from embarrassment as he had been upon delivery of the box.
And like 20 years earlier with her mother, the test didn't lie to the daughter: she was pregnant. With a girl.
Rory berated herself for her carelessness. If there was one point Lorelai had driven home, if Rory had been taught nothing else, it was to have safe sex until marriage. Rory had remembered the lesson in going to bed with Dean, but he had been her first, so naturally she had been more conscientious. But with Marty... the passion of their affair had left her empty-headed.
The first matter at hand was who she was going to tell. Marty, certainly; he was the father, he had a right to know. But she didn't have the heart to wake him right this minute. Paris... she was Rory's best friend, but that didn't necessarily guarantee that Paris wouldn't scream it from the rooftops like it was some kind of victory. In matters of sexual relations, where Paris was seen as a bit of a cold fish, Rory was seen as almost too pure - she thought back to Paris's Disney Princess comment upon catching her and Marty in the act, and the memory made her chuckle, in spite of herself.
Rory extended her net out beyond Yale (the whole campus would know soon enough, anyway, once she started to show). Telling her grandparents was simply out of the question. Emily would have a fit. She briefly entertained calling Richard on his office line, but running that risk was now too great. Several months ago, maybe she could have made a go of it, but now that her grandparents were reconciled from their estrangement, since the second wedding... Rory shook her head. Her grandfather wouldn't keep a secret like that from his wife, in good conscience. Even if she told just Richard, it would get right back to Emily, and then get right back in turn to Lorelai.
Lorelai... she would have to tell her beloved mother eventually, but the thought of doing so now filled Rory with terror. Emily had all but disowned her daughter upon discovering Rory's existence back in the 1980s; who was to say that the stress of this moment wouldn't prompt a little repetition of history? No, Lorelai could not know until Rory had figured out what the hell to say. Lane? Rory could trust Lane with anything, but there was the off-chance that righteous Mrs. Kim might overhear and go screaming for the hills. That alone could activate the notorious Stars Hollow Rumor Mill, courtesy of Ms. Patty and Babette.
In Rory's mind, that left two people. The first finalist was dismissed out of hand. Her father, Christopher, would be ill-prepared to deal with this news. When presented with a Fight-or-Flight situation, he always chose Flight. And with the recent death of his own dad, he had largely shut himself away from the rest of his family in his grief; Rory hadn't heard from Christopher in weeks. Not since her grandparents' wedding renewal, and that encounter had been less than pleasant, though he had been trying to defend her honor. The thought of being with Logan now made Rory squirm in disgust.
Only one person remained. One person who could be trusted in keeping his mouth shut without alerting the whole town or her grandparents. The possibility of him alerting her mother was there - due to the nature of their relationship, that was the elephant in the room. But, if Rory played her cards right... it was a risk she could afford to take.
The Diner was probably long open by now, so she dialed the familiar number on her cell phone and held it to her ear. It took a couple of rings, but eventually the gruff voice she loved oh so much picked up. The voice of her future stepfather. "Hello?"
"Luke?" Rory's voice cracked, the tears beginning to stream down her face.
"Rory? Princess, what's wrong?"
"Can... can you come to Yale? I... I need to talk to you..." She broke down, shuddering through the last word as her breathing became labored, gulping back the sobs.
"Of course. Now, you just stay right there, little honey. See you in a half hour..."
"Wait. Can... can you come alone? Please don't tell my mom; I don't want her to worry."
She could feel Luke pause, suspicious, but just for a moment until he said, "Sure."
Rory gave a watery smile as she hung up. Good old, dear Luke. If she knew him, he was probably throwing everybody out of the Diner right now and closing early. He would drop everything for her and for her mother, she knew.
Rory went out to meet Luke's green truck at the campus main entrance, enveloping him in a hug. The welcome sight of him, big and strong, made her run into his arms and break down all over again; she could sense his paternalistic distress heighten.
"What's the matter, honey? What's the matter?" Luke soothingly rumbled.
"Not here," Rory shook her head, and she led him back to her suite. Paris had finally gotten up and left for her afternoon seminar, and Marty had long since dressed and vacated Rory's bed. In here, she was alone with her stepfather-to-be. Quietly, Rory curled up in her bed, patting the spot beside her. Sheepishly, Luke sank down next to her and simply held her as she cried anew, patiently waiting. Whatever needed to be said would be said in due time and course. Rory flashed back to when she was a little girl, in the potting shed at the Inn. Some nights, when her mother was tied down with evening functions, Luke would come by and babysit, reading the little Gilmore girl stories until she fell asleep. The aging Diner owner must have been on a similar thought, for he mused into the silence:
"You're getting a bit big for this."
Rory's head quivered and she snuggled closer, basking in his familiar smell. Luke smirked in bemusement. "I know what you need." Stooping over the bed, he fished around in the Luke's bag he had brought with him, pulling out a tupperware. Rory opened it, accepted the accompanying fork and dug into the white substance. The warmth made her moan.
"Magic mashed potatoes?"
"Your favorite," Luke smiled. "All right then: what is it?"
Rory dared herself to look him in the eye, even as his image swam behind the rush of fresh tears. "I'm pregnant."
Luke gaped, tensing up against her. His eyes flashed dangerously, with a rage Rory had seen only once before. She recognized that rage - it had been in his expression the night of the wedding renewal, as he had followed Christopher's lead in trying to charge at Logan.
"I'm gonna kill him." He started to rise off the bed and Rory followed as he prowled through the suite. "Where is he? What dorm is he in? The little blonde weasel..."
This made Rory take pause, though she shouldn't have been so surprised. "It isn't Logan's."
Luke softened, but only slightly. "Whose is it, then?"
Rory fiddled with her blouse. "His name's Marty. He's my... new boyfriend. We've known each other since freshman year."
Luke stepped closer. "Where is he?"
Rory gawked. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, young lady!" Luke thunderously snapped. He seemed to forget himself for a moment, but his demeanor still struck Rory dumb. She burst into tears.
"Are you angry with me?"
Luke breathed in deeply. "No..." he got out at last. "It's hard to know what I feel. Disappointed? Yesss..." He drew it out, as if he was still weighing whether or not that was so. "I'm still trying to learn what my place is with you, never mind how I feel..."
Rory smiled weakly. "You're going to be my stepfather. I want you to be honest with me, and with what you feel."
Luke smiled softly, pleased that they had come to an understanding. "Have you told him yet? The father."
Rory shook her head.
"We'll have to tell your mother, too."
"No!" Rory yelped. "Please. Please don't tell her yet."
Luke looked pained. He and Lorelai had just turned the corner beyond a rough patch around the time of the wedding renewal, but that had been due to Emily's machinations more than anything else. "Rory... I can't keep something like that from her. Please don't ask that of me. You know I'll do anything for you, but... please don't make me keep secrets from your mom." He looked tortured, wanting to protect his future stepdaughter but also be honest with his bride.
Rory could sense his discomfort, so she made a brave decision. "You have my permission to tell her. But no one else. Break it to her gently. And let me come to her when I am ready to talk."
Luke accepted the terms. "You got it. Now: I want to meet this boyfriend of yours. And you need to tell him."
Rory nodded, squaring her shoulders. "His class should be letting out just about now. Follow me."
Diner man and student embarked into the sunshine, strolling the campus pathways. As they approached Farnam Hall, Rory spied Marty coming down the steps. He smiled upon seeing her.
"Hey," he pecked her on the lips, but paused when he saw Luke hanging back. "Oh. Is this your father?"
"My stepfather," Rory corrected, turning back to Luke with love and affection in her eyes, not even bothering to tack on the To-Be at the end. Marty grinned, and shook Luke's hand, his friendly exuberance dimming at how firm and cold Luke was in returning the gesture. The older man appeared grim.
"I have something to tell you," Rory murmured, hustling both Marty and Luke into the privacy of the nearby quad, just off of Phelps Gate. Standing on tiptoes, she whispered in Marty's ear: "I'm pregnant."
Marty drew back in shock, then turned slowly to Luke leaning against the wall. "You know?"
Luke stiffly nodded once in affirmative.
"He's the only one, other than you," Rory explained. She turned back to her lover, eyes searching his. "Do you... want to have it? Because I can get an abortion..." She didn't care about how horrified Emily would be if she knew that might be her granddaughter's choice. As far as Rory was concerned, Emily didn't have to know anything. However, she was unsure how long that could last.
"Whatever makes you happy," Marty expressed sincerely. "But... I've always imagined having children with you."
Rory blushed Harvard crimson and stole a glance at Luke, who now approached and took Marty aside.
"You better treat this little girl like a queen, whatever happens next. If you don't, you will answer to me. And if you don't believe me, just ask that Logan Huntzberger fellow about a certain wedding reception..."
Marty gulped, but nodded. "Yes, sir."
Luke clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." He turned back to Rory. "You can call me at the Diner to let me know what you decide. Until then..." And he did something he had never done before and kissed Rory on the forehead. She smiled in amusement.
"Love you... Daddy Luke."
He blinked once at her trying this new moniker out on him, but then smiled in acceptance, trying and failing to hide his giddiness. "I love you too, princess."
As Rory watched Luke head for his truck, Marty took her hand, a look of curiosity and amusement on his face. "Princess?"
Rory giggled and blushed. "His pet name for me," she smiled in explanation.
Marty chuckled. "I like him already."