Okay, I am really, really sorry about the formatting errors, and thanks to everyone for letting me know! This version should be readable.
Jess excused himself a few minutes after my grandmother's untimely entrance, taking his knapsack and jacket and hugging me goodbye at the door. I kept an eye out behind me to make sure she didn't catch onto anything that seemed overtly affectionate, telling Jess I'd call him later on that afternoon.
Five minutes later, I nervously plopped into my chair at the dining room table, and watched Emily Gilmore eye me suspiciously as she sipped from her cup of coffee.
"I refreshed your cup and brought it in here," she told me. "I hope you don't mind."
"No, that was really nice of you," I replied as I calmly sipped from the cup and wiped my mouth with the napkin carefully placed beneath it.
She cleared her throat, clearly expecting me to continue.
"I'll clean up the mess we made in the kitchen," I said, willing my voice not to start shaking.
"I'd appreciate that," she replied as she placed her own cup back down on the napkin.
The silence remained strung between us, tentatively balanced between my desire not to upset her in any way and my own diminishing ability to keep what has transpired in the last twelve hours to myself.
"What kind of project were you and Jess working on?" she asked.
"We're tossing around a few different ideas," I replied noncommittally. Given how my mother had reacted to the news that I was writing a book about our life, I wasn't about to drop this bombshell on my grandmother until I was much more prepared for how she might possibly react.
"And discussing these kinds of ideas require early morning meetings at your temporary home?"
"Jess doesn't exactly have a conventional work schedule," I tried to explain. "We've been friends for a long time. He's willing to go out of his way to help me out."
"I see," she replied, running her fingernail over the handle of her cup.
I could tell that she wasn't buying any of this.
"Rory, we had an understanding when I agreed to let you stay here," my grandmother began. "You would have a quiet place to stay and work, and in return you would take the lack of distractions this home gave you to work towards a goal. Wasn't that the intention when you moved some of your stuff here two years ago?"
"It was," I agreed.
"I know the circumstances are different now," she continued. "I know you've now reached the point where you need the advice of other people. But in the meantime, I do not think it is wise for new distractions to replace the old ones. Do you understand?"
"I do," I told her. "It's not abstract, Grandma – I am committing to something. Jess is helping me with that. I just don't want to share the details until I'm a lot farther along."
"I respect that," my grandmother replied. "I like Jess, and I know that he's responsible in his business. But if you two are to spend time together here, I expect it to be in a fully professional manner."
"We are," I assured her. "It's just about work at this point."
Well, it had started that way, at least.
"I don't know if the expectations were clear when you grandfather and I let you stay in the pool house all those years ago," she stated. "You were very young, then, Rory, and maybe you needed to have it spelled out to you in a way you don't need now. I respect your privacy, but the only person who is to be sleeping or residing in this house is yourself. Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded, feeling incredibly embarrassed. "You do," I asserted.
"I also don't want your residence here to remain a permanent situation," my grandmother continued. "It's fine for right now, but I think you need to be settled down permanently sometime soon. You have the resources to do that."
I shifted uncomfortably. "Are you moving back in or –"
"I don't know," she said. "I'm still considering a lot of options, just as you are. But I believe that we both need to start preparing to make a decision in the next couple of weeks."
And with that, I could feel the death knells coming for my long-ingrained wanderlust.
It was way past time for them to get here.
I actually did make a good faith effort to break up with Paul.
The last time I had spoken to him had been back in May, when I moved back in with Mom and Luke. He didn't offer to let me stay with him or ask if he could come see me. We had texted back and forth a few times over the summer, but there was no expectation that spending time together was something either of us desired. I still felt guilty for not being the person to actually cut the cord, especially since I couldn't blame it on Logan or the career I didn't have anymore. But for the most part I just didn't think about it. I wasn't in his life and he wasn't in mine.
I called Paul twice and got his voice mail both times. I texted him three times. When I called him for the third time, his girlfriend answered. She seemed astounded that we were still in contact, which was a little strange, considering that she was well aware of the situation between all three of us. I told her I'd contact him on my own and hung up.
He seemed to be avoiding me. Maybe he was just hoping that if he ignored our nonexistent relationship, it would finally dissipate into nothingness. I couldn't blame him for that. I had been doing the same thing for a long time.
I decided to settle the entire thing by breaking up with him via Facebook message. I don't think he ever saw what I sent him, but I considered it finished. If he contacted me again to press the issue, I'd merely point out that we hadn't seen each other for months and didn't have a relationship worth saving.
Every time I spoke to Jess, he kept asking if it was done. I was honest with him: I was trying to make a clean break with Paul, but he wasn't willing to meet me halfway by actually returning my calls. I could only assume that choosing not to talk to me was his way of cutting me off. Jess wasn't entirely happy about that – after all, much of our romantic history had consisted of him waiting on the sidelines while I avoided breaking up with the other men in my life. However, there wasn't a lot either of us could do about it. I couldn't force Paul to talk to me, and I didn't feel comfortable going to him in person and confronting him if he wanted to let it go as much as I did. I was committed to Jess, and that would have to be enough.
I didn't see Jess for the rest of that week. I continued to stay at my grandmother's house and write. She didn't ask any more questions about what I was working on or about Jess, and she returned to Nantucket two days after she had returned home. Jess was busy with work in Philadelphia – it turns out he had been slacking on some of his other duties in order to spend so much time working with me – and both of us agreed that we couldn't risk being interrupted again. I'd have to start coming to him from this point forth.
My newly purchased hybrid vehicle was an excellent step in that direction. It meant that I'd finally have some independence and mobility, and wasn't just depending on the generosity of others in order to sustain myself. It also meant that I was ready to acknowledge that I had resources to move my life forwards, and was ready to use them.
I started thinking more and more about making up with my mom. The problem is that I didn't want to come home without a clear plan, but I didn't want to make a plan without talking to her first. I had a car and a boyfriend and some definite career objectives: I hadn't had those things a few months ago, but that also hadn't been what had caused problems between us. My mom had always had confidence that things would work out for me. She just hadn't approved of how I planned to make that happen.
I wanted to have some chapters in front of her to read. I wanted her to be able to look at what I had written and see that it wasn't frightening or cruel or hurtful. I wanted her to be able to believe that I was honoring the way she had raised me, not chastising her for not being able to provide us with the things that we didn't have and didn't miss. I wanted her to be able to look at the words on the page and know that our experiences weren't tragic or sad but were actually magical and wonderful because she had made them that way.
Maybe I was being idealistic, but I hoped that once Mom actually read it for herself, she would know that it wasn't anything for Grandma to be afraid of, either. Grandma had changed since she started spending so much time in Nantucket – she seemed more accepting and understanding, even of situations that would have caused her to have an extreme reaction in the past. She was still adamant about the things she was and was not willing to put up with, and I wouldn't have wanted her to lose that part of herself. But I couldn't imagine that the same woman who had accepted the concept of me and Jess as a couple without barely a word in judgment was going to have much of a problem with what I was planning to write.
Before I could get to that point, I had to make these first couple of chapters practically perfect.
I was so consumed in my work that I didn't even notice the familiar face approaching me at my corner table.
"Pie?"
I looked up and smiled at Luke as he refilled my coffee cup and placed a piece of fresh blueberry in front of me.
"Thanks," I replied as I gingerly moved my laptop to the side and dug into the pastry greedily. "I think I needed a break."
Luke sat down in the chair across from me and handed me a napkin. "I think you did, too. You've been at this for a couple of hours."
I turned my head to look out the window at the darkening sky outside. "I probably ought to pack up and head back to Hartford pretty soon, actually."
"Jess isn't meeting you here today?'
I shoved in another bite of pie before I answered him. "He's got a lot of work back home this week. I don't think I'll see him until at least next week."
"You two have been spending a lot of time together recently," Luke remarked.
Crap.
Jess and I hadn't even discussed what we would tell Luke about our relationship while I was still waiting to work things out with my mom. I had figured it wouldn't be an issue, since the next time we would see each other would be on his home turf, not mine. My mom accepted Jess as an extended family member, but the relationship between them had remained fraught with tension for years. Jess knew all of the ugly history between Luke and her that had caused them to break up ten years ago, and he had never quite forgiven my mom for hurting him the way that she did. I knew I would have to approach the subject of renewing my relationship with Jess very delicately.
I had no idea how Luke would react to the idea.
"We're working on a project together," I told him, wanting to avoid outright lying to him.
"The book?"
I nodded. "The book. I guess Mom told you about it."
"She didn't go into a lot of details," Luke replied. He adjusted his cap nervously. "Rory, this thing between you and your mom –"
I looked him in the eye, waiting for him to continue.
"I know you'll find a way to put this thing out there to make it right," Luke assured me. "You're a brilliant writer, and I know you won't embarrass your mom or your grandmother or anyone else. But she's nervous about it."
"Maybe you can talk to her," I suggested.
"She's not listening to what I have to say about it," Luke remarked, staring out the window. "I don't think I'm helping."
I didn't really know what to say to that.
Luke turned to face me again. "I think you should reach out to her," he told me. "I know she misses you."
"Luke, I'm –" I began.
He looked at me pointedly.
"I'm working this out in my own way," I said. "I don't intend for it to go on forever. Or for even much longer. But I am working on a way to make her feel better about it."
"I know you'll do the right thing," Luke said. "Just don't – don't wait too long, okay?"
"I won't," I promised him.
Privately, I wondered if I had maybe reach the point of too long already.
These chapters had to be absolutely perfect.
