8 – Tinsel, Turkey and Secrets
A/N: Happy Holidays, all! Hope you are enjoying the festive season with your loved ones. Instead of getting me soap or socks, why don't you leave me a review at the end of the chapter?
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"I still think it would be great if you could join us for Christmas dinner," Rory cajoled. They were still a few minutes away from the Inn; enough time to twist Logan's arm properly, she thought.
Logan smiled happily as he looked at her. "I still think that I need to be awake at four tomorrow morning to conference call some Asian folk. And they don't get happy if you keep them waiting."
"How will coming to a fabulous Christmas dinner that will bear no resemblance whatsoever to the Disney channel make you late for your meeting?"
"With you, there's always something," Logan teased. "And how could a Christmas dinner resemble the Disney channel? Is your holiday events usually overrun by Caribbean pirates or men looking to steal the Declaration of Independence?"
"Taylor won't give them the necessary permits to pirate and plot treason in Stars Hollow," Rory replied. "I just meant that most Disney movies showing Christmas dinners involve some big secret that at first threatens to drive a wedge between the characters. And then they are infected by the spirit of Christmas and make up under the Christmas tree."
"So are you promising no secrets, no trees or no reconciliation?"
"Well, we have seven trees. We are going to tell my mother about our reconciliation and therefore there'll be no secrets requiring any further reconciliation," Rory said determinedly. After a few more clandestine dates with Logan, she realised that they had left too many words unsaid and that they weren't as finished as four years of silence had lead her to believe. Whether she planned for it or not, whether her mother approved of it or not, the currents of fate had pulled her back into a relationship with Logan. It was still a tacit, unspoken relationship, the type of relationship that exists before it is acknowledged and given a name. But it was there nevertheless and Rory thought it best to tell Lorelai before the festive season was over. She pulled into the driveway of the Inn and carefully parked her Prius. "Let's go spill the secrets and get the reconciliation out of the way," she said chirpily, then frowned as she got no response from Logan. "Logan?"
Logan was staring out of her window, staring at three figures trundling through the snow towards a familiar green truck. Luke was carrying Lily on his shoulders while Jess had his hands full with brightly wrapped parcels. From the expressions on the three faces – Jess smiling ruefully, Luke grinning, Lily laughing joyously – it was clear that Luke and Lily were teasing Jess about something, although Rory could not hear the words. She bit her lip and sighed. Was Logan going to be difficult about Jess joining the family for Christmas dinner? She had casually mentioned Jess and his daughter on one of their dates, part of their oh-what-happened-to-that-person conversations. (Shira and Mitchum were still presenting a front of happy marriage; Finn had turned his hand to musical theatre with immense, startling success; Colin had metamorphosed into a true blue captain of industry; Josh and Honor had gotten divorced and in the aftermath, Honor had lost touch with all of her family members and former friends; Paris was in the turmoil of deciding which direction to specialise and finally, unsurprisingly, settled on surgeon; Doyle was beavering away at a newspaper career, happily chasing his print dreams.) When she had mentioned Jess and his daughter to Logan, he had seemed perfectly Prince Charming about it. She had surreptitiously watched him for the revealing flash of jealousy, the edifying blaze of possessiveness – only to be met with bland civility and questions about other Stars Hollow residents. (His polite correctness was one of the reasons she had allowed destiny to tug them closer, if she was going to be perfectly honest about it.)
"Logan?"
Logan blinked and looked at her. "I'm assuming that's Jess and his daughter?"
Rory nodded. "She's very close to Luke and, by extension, my mother."
"Well," Logan said, almost as though to himself, then gave her a cordial smile, "I suppose I'll get to know her better at Christmas dinner."
Rory felt like sighing. It was clear that Logan's acceptance of the Christmas dinner invitation was simply to keep an eye on her friendship with Jess, a way of checking that there truly was nothing but courtesy and amiability between them. Stop it, she told herself firmly. You can't second guess everything that Logan does. You know that he wasn't jealous when you mentioned Jess to him the first time; why would that have changed? You're just letting Jess' warning get under your skin and you're being unfair to Logan. Besides, you wanted him at Christmas dinner, so be happy, Santa Gilmore.
"Let's go have lunch with my mother," Rory said, forcing a Donna Reed-esque cheerfulness. "Everything always seems better after a Sookie special."
"What's a Sookie special?"
"If she asks, it's anything she makes."
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"So," Luke said uneasily, clearing his throat.
Jess packed the Christmas parcels under the tree, wondering what was on his uncle's mind. Since they had left the Inn and drove to Lorelai's house to start preparing for the Christmas dinner, Luke had been even more gruffly monosyllabic than usual. He had been expecting a conversation since Lily went to play with Babette's kittens. "So," he echoed dryly.
"So how did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"You know. It."
"What it?"
Luke coughed, glaring at Jess with meaning. "You know. It it."
"You mean nobody ever had the birds and the bees talk with you?" Jess asked, trying to remember if he's ever seen his uncle look that uncomfortable. Perhaps when Taylor got too comfortable in his personal space. "Well, that explains why we've never heard the pitter patter of little Luke and Lorelai feet. You could switch on the Hallmark channel if you want a sentimental touch, but some of the more adult orientated channels might provide you with practical advice."
"Don't be a smartmouth," Luke growled as he adjusted his baseball cap. "Or such a pottymouth either. You know what I mean."
Jess flopped down on the couch. "No, I don't."
"How did you ask that girl to marry you?"
Jess exhaled with a laugh. "You planning on asking Lorelai?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know," Luke groaned, flopping down onto the couch next to his nephew, cradling his head in his hands. "I've been thinking about it, but I can't decide how. It has to be really special, you know."
"Yeah."
"I mean, last time she asked me. Just blurted it out. Now I don't know if she's waiting for me to ask her or if she doesn't want to get married to me."
"And you think a Nora Ephron gesture will change her mind on marriage?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know."
"At this stage, I'd like to point out that teenage Jess would be mocking you like a Comedy Central Roast for being such a wuss about asking Lorelai."
"And I'd like to point out that teenage Jess would've gotten his ass kicked."
"Now who's being a pottymouth?" Jess grinned. "Look, I'm probably not the best person to ask about being romantic. I did ask Lily's mom to marry me when I found out she was pregnant, but you know how that turned out."
"Which is why I'm planning on asking someone who isn't married already," Luke said. "And we're talking about a woman who puts snowflake-shaped pillow mints out once winter hits, who puts on a Christmas hat festooned with mistletoe, who has special Saint Patrick's Day underwear with clover and leprechauns on it and she's not even Irish. She likes her special occassions to be special, so whatever I do has to be amazing."
Jess half-sighed, half-laughed. "You're putting too much pressure on yourself about this. The important thing is asking. If she wants to say yes, she will. If she wants to say no, no amount of Garry Marshall or Richard Curtis is going to change that."
"How is Blackadder romantic?"
"It's not. So I was going for the Notting Hill and Love Actually, actually."
"How do you know who wrote Notting Hill and Love Actually?" Luke asked incredulously.
"You ever tried to stop a pregnant woman from watching romantic comedies?"
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Lily shouted as she ran inside the house, "Babette said that Peaches are going to have kittens in the new year and I can have one as a late Christmas present. Please can I have one, please, please, please?"
"Slow down, munchkin, no running in the house," Jess said, catching her in his arms and lifting her onto his lap. "More importantly, no tripping and knocking your head. Why do you want a kitten?"
"Because they are cute," Lily said. "And don't worry. I'll make sure that I feed the kitten and that the kitten always has clean water. Babette told me how important that is."
"Well …"
Lily blinked impishly at her dad. "And you say I should make friends. The kitten can be my friend. And Bear's friend, too. And your friend."
"She's got you there," Luke guffawed.
Jess tried to suppress his own smile. "Lily, it's time for a nap. We can talk about the kitten when you wake up."
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Rory felt the spirit of Christmas bubbling through her as she drove home. Lorelai had been neither happy nor entirely surprised by Logan's presence at lunch. But she had mirrorred Logan's sociable courtesy and graciously repeated the already accepted invitation to Christmas dinner. Logan and Lorelai politely discussed news events, the weather, what his family has been doing … until the salad came and they began staring at their forks with bored discomfort. But Rory manfully soldiered through the conversation, not allowing it to flag or wane, and to the other diners in the Inn could have mistook them for a happy outing. Rory knew that Sookie would be getting an earful about That Boy right about now and she felt a little sorry for that. But if they want to be in a relationship with me, she thought, they're going to have to make an effort. Call that a cheap Christmas gift.
"So exactly what do we need to do at your house?" Logan asked as Rory parked.
Rory pulled a list from her glove compartment. "Follow Sookie's instructions to the T or risk a repeat of the Mash Potato Incident."
"And we don't want a repeat of that?"
"As much as we don't want a repeat of the Spanish Inquisition."
"Any chance we could decorate the house instead?"
"We could, but that would step on some toes. Jess and Lily usually take care of the decorations," Rory said carefully as they walked inside a tinsel-streaked living room. Lily was asleep on the couch, her head propped on Bear. She could hear Luke and Jess talking upstairs. Rory glanced at Logan and was surprised by his blank-eyed stare as he watched Lily sleep. "Logan?"
Logan's voice was tight, as though his throat was constricted by baseless fears. "Did Jess ever tell you who Lily's mother is?"
"No." Rory felt a first stab of fear jutting through her confusion. "I only know that she passed away shortly after Lily was born."
"In a car accident?"
"Yes."
"Caused by drunk high school seniors?"
Rory frowned. "How did you know?"
Logan took his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a faded photograph. It was dog-eared and crinkled by overexposure to the light, but the face smiling from the photo was nevertheless startlingly recognizable. It was a candid snap of a young girl, little more than a toddler, playing school in a garden, reading from an upside down picture book to a row of stuffed animals and blank-eyed dolls. Rory touched a finger to the little girl's cheek, tracing familiar contours. "Logan, who is this?" she asked, almost knowing the answer already.
"Honor when she was five," Logan replied.
Rory looked from the photograph to the sleeping girl on the couch. The resemblance was uncanny, remarkable, unmistakable. The whys, the hows and the wherefors raced through Rory's head, jostling for position in her train of thought. "I never knew lilies were Honor's favourite flowers," she whispered.
