Open doors would soon be shut. - Solsbury Hill, Peter Gabriel
August 2017, Philadelphia
Her phone rings from the living room while she's on the bed, feeding Will.
"That's yours!" Comes Jess's voice from the kitchen.
"I know, dufus! Can you get it for me?"
He gets the phone at the second ring and enters the bedroom moments later, squinting at it.
"Logan Huntzberger," he reads off the screen.
She must look struck by lightning because he freezes, squinting at her instead, phone ringing in his hand. She shoots out her chin.
"Answer it." She says.
"Me?" He says skeptically.
"Put it on speaker, dufus." She says and he chuckles. "Unless you wanna hold it to my ear."
"Not for all the tea in China," he says and places the phone on the bedrest before pressing the call through and briskly exiting the room.
"Logan?" She starts.
"Ace! Good to hear your voice."
"And yours," she answers, smiling widely. "Long time no... anything. How've you been?"
"Oh, just great, same as always." He doesn't need to tell her anything. Everybody knows what's going on with him; The private is public property. he discloses everything in social media with beautiful pictures to match, his professional life, his traveling, his girlfriends and then his fiancé, at least last she looked. A fiancé that's since turned wife, no missing that. She doesn't need to ask, but it is the thing to do. "What about you?" He counters.
She scrambles to figure out what he might already know. They're contacts on Facebook, but she uses it for networking, never anything private, much to her mother's dismay. Plus, she did unfollow him about three years ago, she'll admit it was painful to watch him do so well and not being able to match it. Every party he attends in both private and professional capacity, every relationship, is marked with pictures, and he always looks great, the girls look like straight out of the fashion scene. Unfollowing didn't do much when every post he makes gets hundreds of likes, they're all highlights. If she didn't know what it's really like, what he's really like, she might be truly intimidated by how swell it all seems. Even after the cabin she never got around to following him again. That stuff just didn't seem to matter much anymore.
She hasn't posted anything about Jess or Will. Why should she? Her professional contacts wouldn't care, all her friends know about it anyway, and Jess's only tie to the platform is a login to Truncheon, they couldn't exactly post 'in a relationship'. To her knowledge The Enquirer hasn't written a piece on her pregnancy, so that's out. And how many people does she actually consider friends? Do any of those socialize with Logan? Could he know? Why is he calling?
"Uhm, Sorry, I'm just trying to remember the last time we spoke." She says after realizing that a moment longer than what might be appropriate has past.
"Must've been about two years ago."
"God, has it been that long?"
"Yes, it has. Now spill. What've you been up to?" A man on some sort of mission, apparently.
"Why do you sound like you already know what I've been up to?"
"My reach is far," he says playfully, "and I might not have birds braiding my hair in the morning, but I do command an army of flying monkeys."
"Is that how you refer to Colin and Finn?"
He laughs.
"Obviously."
"What's on your mind, Logan?" That's the way you have to do it. Make him laugh and he will surrender.
"Why so suspicious? I'm not up to mischief. I simply caught wind that you moved to Philadelphia and since I'm going there in a few days I thought I'd see to it that we go for coffee."
"Could you be more vague? 'Caught wind?' 'Few days?' Come on!"
She hears the smile in his voice when he folds.
"Mitchum ran into Christopher at some function a few months back."
"Oh."
"I can adjust to your schedule." Logan goes on. "Are you free Thursday? I can come another day if you're not."
"You'd do that?" She can't help being flattered by his insistence and drops her guard.
"I am my own boss, Ace. And I missed you."
She caves.
"Okay. Fine. Thursday."
"Great. I've been meaning to take a stroll in that park of yours."
"A hike is more like it."
"I'll bring my boots. Fourteen hundred hours?"
"Ten four."
They hang up. She smiles to herself, looks forward to it without considering potential pit falls – he has his usual effect on her even from hundreds of miles away.
It's Thursday and it's impossible to choose something to wear. She doesn't have time to dilly about it though, an upside of having a baby to look after. He keeps her anchored to the bed, the couch, any chair available and even the floor under a few desperate circumstances. She can get around with him attached to her breast, but it's not easy. So, she spends the morning glaring at her wardrobe, mentally taking inventory of what she can wear these days, what she'd feel comfortable wearing, and what's acceptable for seeing Logan. Her skinny jeans might not be too tight, but they feel it, the softness of her tummy making her self-conscious. But they might be too warm anyway. Okay, maybe she has time to dilly a little. She goes through two outfits before settling on a dress, black base with flowers and her brown boots.
She's in front of the mirror regarding herself critically and is just about to change for a third time, when she catches sight of Jess walking by behind her and stopping in his tracks seeing her. They make eye contact and she turns and faces him. His expression is hopelessly hard to read, but then he shoots her a short, crooked smile.
"You're beautiful." He says, simply, and his tone doesn't help her make out what he's thinking, but she sure is aware of her own thoughts. She feels caught in the act of... what? She blushes.
"Thanks."
"You sure you don't want me to take Will?"
She considers it again. It would be nice to spend an afternoon with an adult, for fun and nothing else. But she hasn't told Logan she's a mom. Doesn't know how to unless he explicitly asks, and she can't count on that. She has got to tell him. Having a baby is definitely the kind of thing you should mention when someone asks you what you've been up to. What's wrong with her? Bringing Will gets her out of the whole having to tell him thing. She shakes her head.
"It's fine. He needs the air and you're just gonna be holed up here all day."
He smiles again.
"Maybe."
"Work. Read. Sleep." She urges.
"Okay."
She packs up Will and all his accessories, including the sling and stuffs it into the pram. Jess opens the door and turns to her. He opens his mouth as if to speak, so she stops, but he closes it again and tilts his head forward in a nod, another tiny smile.
"Have a good time."
She sighs, and nods in response, leans in and pecks his lips.
"See you."
Logan of course offered to come pick her up, but she declined pretty firmly, she's avoiding ruining the day with too much reality, and an apartment filled with unsorted laundry, dirty diapers and a sleep-deprived boyfriend would definitely get in the way of that. Going anywhere on public transportation with a pram is something of an extreme sport though and she tries not to rush, it'll spoil her mood and look.
They're meeting at Logan Square, his brilliant idea, but it's where she used to go after her doctor's appointments during her pregnancy and it's the first time she comes here with an actual baby. A baby who seems to be enjoying the trip, his blue eyes darting between the equally blue sky and the mobile with colorful dragons attached to the carriage, his head elevated and supported by double pillows. His communication skills have expanded significantly the last month. He has a whole range of different sounds for different purposes, makes eye contact and smiles, possibly even on purpose. She looks at him and tells him what happens every chance she gets during the ride.
When she arrives at the café Logan is nowhere in sight. She sits down by the Fitzsimmons statue and rocks the pram slightly while cooing at Will. A couple of minutes pass before there's a tap at her shoulder, and she looks up into his ever-smiling face. The tunnel vision is definitely at the bottom of her list of things she enjoys about parenthood.
"Sorry." She says and stands up to hug him.
"Don't apologize, I must have looked at you for at least thirty seconds before registering that it was you." He turns his attention to Will and lifts a hand in a greeting. "Hi."
She smiles.
"Logan, Will. Will, Logan."
If he's surprised he doesn't show it. His expression and voice are levelled and friendly.
"How old is he?"
"Two months, ten days."
"Wow." He looks back at her, clearly evaluating. "You look great."
"Thank you." She says generously, both relieved and annoyed at his remark. Relieved because it is as it always was between them, he makes her feel different about herself. It's left-overs from her early twenties and at that time he had made her feel, for the first time in her life, that she could belong, be cool, have fun, and not have to think so much about tomorrow, and whenever she sees him, for real or in a photograph, she thinks about that. Annoyed because... she hasn't had time to process that yet. "Let's get that coffee."
They get take away cups and head toward the park. He has a business dinner that evening, and is staying overnight before heading to Washington, apparently having the time to drive for a change. She tells him about Lorelai getting married and about the book. They've almost reached the Rodin when she has to ask.
"I'm that different?"
"What?"
"You said you didn't recognize me."
"No!" He gestures vividly. "You look the same, it's the combo with the baby that made it hard to process. I knew, but seems it was hard to actually get."
"Same on this end." She says with a crooked smile, then turns to him. "You knew."
He bites his lip.
"I knew."
"'Heard you moved to Philadelphia...'" She says with her dude-voice.
"Well, I wanted to see what you'd tell me on your own." He protests.
She winces.
"Turns out your conversational tactics are as limber as ever." He bumps his fist lightly on her upper arm.
She scoffs.
"Yeah, limber. And you're one to talk!" She pauses slightly. "How'd you know?"
"I told you."
Two fathers, one function, right. It makes her ill at ease.
"Wow, that dad of mine sure has a big mouth." She musters.
"My dad's mouth can beat your dad's mouth any day." He pushes his chest out in a faux boisterous way. Then shakes his head, eyes to the ground with a grim smile. "You should have heard him go on and on about 'that Gilmore girl you used to date, getting herself into trouble, pregnant and unmarried in Philadelphia', on second thought, I'm euphoric you didn't hear it."
His words make her halt to a stop. There are so many things wrong with them that she doesn't quite know where to start. Her head spins with hatred of Mitchum and the sharpness of it takes her by surprise. And it's still trumped by her searing doubt about Christopher's loyalty. Will starts whimpering and she's almost grateful because that means she gets to pick him up and hold him close. She starts pacing with her son in her arms.
"Rory?"
She looks up and every emotion must be exposed in her face because Logan frowns in concern.
"I'm sorry." He offers. "It's Mitchum, you know he's a bastard."
The words sound hollow at first but actually make her feel a bit better; Christopher might have just stuck to the basics, it might have been Mitchum questioning him instead of a real conversation, and he would have made the worst possible interpretation of the answers he received. She makes herself remember her interactions with her father during the last few months. Barren as their relationship might feel at times she knows he wouldn't sell her out to a sociopath like Mitchum, not even for good business. She takes a few breaths and Will calms down as well. The other implications of his words still remain however, and she's tired of engaging in conversational hide and seek.
"Is this some kind of rescue mission, Logan?"
"What do you mean?" He doesn't meet her eyes.
"You know what I mean."
"Rory-"
"I do not need rescuing. It's 2017." She's off balance and tries her best to keep it out of her voice. "I may not be married but that doesn't mean I am alone. And so what if I was? And since when do you consider an unmarried mother some damsel in distress?"
"I don't! I wasn't planning-" He stops speaking abruptly and takes a quick breath before going on. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I am. I'm more than that actually."
He puts a hand on her shoulder, leaning in.
"Okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, you shouldn't have." She bites back but then tries swallowing the rest. She might still be able to save the afternoon. She sits down on the steps next to The Thinker, puts her lips to Will's dark head and looks out across the street, trying to calm herself further by the beautiful weather and the rustling through the canopies. Logan sits down next to her and looks at Will.
"I'm assuming he has your eyes?"
She forces a smile and it makes her feel better.
"He does."
"That hair though..."
"Not mine." She says and doesn't miss that he doesn't ask further. Not that she minds, she's not really in the sharing mood. Instead he apologizes again.
"I am sorry."
"Let's not talk about it anymore. Let's get on." She mounts Will in the sling on herself and has Logan push the pram. They walk up to the Oval and get refills at the museum, plus bottles of water, before continuing their walk. She jokes about the pram mainly being for all the baby stuff, tells him about her zombieish state and rants about Will's nightly shenanigans. Their conversation is light, she intentionally keeps it that way, until comfortable again. He hands her a water bottle and she sees the ring and remembers.
"How was the wedding?" She asks.
"Delightful. You didn't see the pictures?"
She didn't. He's still unfollowed, and she's not online much lately. She avoids answering directly though.
"Pictures don't tell the whole story. How was the music? How'd the food taste? Was your outfit comfortable?"
He laughs.
"Everything was great. String quartet for the ceremony, cover band for the reception, venue provided what I hear was excellent catering, I'm having some trouble remembering it to be honest." He lets out a short laugh. "That's what happens after a bottle of Champagne on an empty stomach. As far as I'm concerned we might as well have ordered from Wendy's. I was however, very comfortable in my clothes."
"I'm glad." She says. Hesitates. "Tell me about your wife."
"She's great." His answer is quick. "Very clever. Nauseatingly successful. Makes me look bad."
She smiles, and it's not as hard as she thought.
"She's off visiting her family right now, and I didn't really have another trip to Europe in me, hence the extra time to do sort of a road trip. Mixing business and pleasure."
"Any plans to reproduce?" The question is careful, not everyone enjoys being asked.
"Not at the moment." His tone doesn't indicate any negative reaction. "She'll decide when it's time though."
Will starts crying, possibly tired of the warmth in the sling, and probably hungry. They've reached the Lincoln monument by now but have to head to the steps across the street for some shade and a place to sit. She picks Will up and sits down on a step as close to the edge as possible, and has Logan flanking her, same way she does with Jess when she feeds Will in public. She catches him looking and they lock eyes.
"Sorry." He says and actually looks a little embarrassed.
"Don't worry." She assures. "It's only food. And it's nothing you haven't seen before."
He chuckles.
"Not like this."
"I guess not."
There's a pause and they both sip their water. When he speaks again his tone is a bit more serious.
"Tell me more about parenthood."
"I thought it wasn't on the map for you yet?"
"It's not, I'm asking because you-" He obviously hesitates. "I thought you'd seem happier about it."
She chuckles. She forgets that her baby-jokes, in the jargon of chastened war-veteran, world weary from a harrowing service of nine weeks sometimes gets lost in translation. She tries to not talk down to him. Even if she's relatively comfortable in her parent role by now, it's unpopular behaving like everyone's mother.
"Well, I'm not happy in the carefree sense." She confirms, chin out. "It's a lifelong commitment, a relationship where you do all the work, and you're supposed to. So, you have to want it, which I do. I'm glad he's here. But I'm happy cause of what I give, not what I get." She pauses. "You wanna know something weird?"
"Sure."
"Before I could force myself to do anything. Even stuff I knew I didn't really feel right about. But since he was born..." She looks at Will and then back again. "I've gotten better at listening to myself. Maybe 'cause his well-being is dependent on mine." She takes a breath. "And I used to fret about this great success I was supposed to become, had this belly-ache that I didn't measure up. You think he cares about my title?"
"Probably not." He smiles. "But you don't have to use the same measuring scale for everything."
"I know. It just, seems silly now. I mean, the way I feel about my mom..."
"He'll feel that way about you."
She smiles quickly, but goes on, onto something.
"It's exhausting, and slow. You put all of you, all your time and attention into this little being and as tired as I am, as much as I long for him to get bigger so I can exit the bubble, it- It makes me feel-" She bites her lip and sighs through her nose while searching for the right words. "I guess I never felt quite so useful even when I mess up, powerful even I'm powerless. The things I do now are so different from the ones I did before and that makes me different."
"Sounds nice." His tone is soft, but a bit sad.
She shrugs.
"It is and isn't. I have problems finding words adequate for it. I'm still me, but some of my identity is new."
"A metamorphosis."
"A bit. Same parts, different shape. And I thought the whole parent-thing was gonna be all about this new human, not my... what's the opposite of a personality crisis?"
"Sounds like an unpredicted bonus." He says, and the fall silent for about a minute before he speaks again. "What does Emily say about all this?"
"You mean does she approve?" It's more a clarification than a question. "She loves him, probably since before he was born. And you should've seen her when she met him for the first time-"
She smiles at the memory. Emily came when Will was about two weeks old and stayed for three days. Their first encounter a huge relief to both women; Emily with the patience and fresh enthusiasm to give Will her undivided attention for hours on end, while Rory enjoyed having blood back in her arms, and heaven help her: doing laundry, going grocery shopping. Jess gave up his side on the bed for the benefit of Emily's back and to promote the absence of comments regarding their civil status. Funny how that works - out of sight, out of mind - even with a baby. But Emily Gilmore always had a soft heart for children and their sacred right to clean slates.
"She actually came here."
"No way! Emily Gilmore way out west!"
"Yeah way." Rory laughs. "Such is the pull of this little star. She has issues with a bunch of my choices, but it makes no difference regarding him. And she felt the same way about me. She knows the difference."
Will falls asleep at her breast and she inches it from his mouth and buttons her dress. Stands up and places him carefully back into the pram, pulls the shade over him and hangs the yellow baby blanket they got at the Shower askew over the remaining gap to ward off the sun. They walk slowly along Sedgley Drive, lush vegetation obscuring the street from view. They reach a trail that seems almost overgrown, but climbing the hill, and he stops them at the fork.
"You know, if you ever need a break from the family life you can give me a call. I've got plenty of get away spots that you can use. I could even join you if you like." His tone is light but he holds her gaze, reaches out and pushes her hair behind her ear. She blinks. It takes her an embarrassing extra fraction of a second to process what just happened and to respond in any way. She turns her head away from his touch.
"Logan-" She starts. Falls silent. It's all on the tip of her tongue; That she doesn't know how many ex-girlfriends he has in mind to visit on this road trip of his, that she might be in no way special, but that she has to let him know anyway. Because she used to be called Mary after all, granted, not by him, but someone like him, and he wasn't far off, mocking her for her sense of duty, for how she used to be before she grew embarrassed at that quality of hers, before she gave in to him. That his proposal, proposition is an insult. To her, to her family, to his clever wife, but most of all, to him. Does he think nothing of himself? Is he worth nothing? The feeling stems from love, from caring for him, she knows, but she also knows that honesty can be cruel, no matter how well intentioned. And she doesn't want to be cruel, even if she can be, cruel words are a gateway. She hesitates too long and he speaks again.
"Sorry," he says. "That must be the fifth one today, huh?"
She shoots him a tight smile and nods.
"It's okay. But y'know, words matter. You should be careful with 'em." She hates her own wording, ironically. Adds more, to make her real point: "You matter."
"Yeah," he says, without any real weight to it. "Thanks."
They walk for a while longer after that, but she can't recover. She pulls them to the right, past the baseball field, and crosses the Poplar Street Bridge, back towards the city. The carelessness he oozes, that he makes her feel as well, is an illusion. He only feels it because he doesn't control his own narrative or doesn't think he can, so why worry? He's not free, he never was. She only feels loneliness from him now, like icy wind, and shudders despite the heat. It's a different loneliness than the one she knows Jess has lived with, that somewhat chosen, clean isolation. Not Logan. He smiles, but it's the smile from selfies, from the glamour of his life, the myriad of things, people. Crowded emptiness. In an unaffected way, like it's a matter of fact. She feels like crying and she wants to hug him, make a difference to him, anchor him to something, in any way. But she can't. Her responsibility lies elsewhere now and is not one she can disregard. The impotence of her situation makes her wretched and she can't keep up the façade.
She tells him she has to go, and he offers to drive her home. She wants to take him up on it, is desperate enough to want to show him their apartment, which in its simplicity seems saturated with significance, warmth and safety. She wants to show him all of that even if it means putting him and Jess in the same room. But she has the pram and he has no car seat for Will. So, she has to say no, and a small part of her is relieved at that.
"Logan. Don't be a stranger. Call me again."
He smiles and winks at her.
"Dito." He waves and saunters off.
She remains in the same place until he disappears. She takes a shaky breath as soon as he's gone and blinks away tears. Only for a few seconds though, because Will gets restless and she has to get going, pushing life forward. Walking off her feelings sets the idea to get to Girard and 24th on foot in her head but she has to give up after a few blocks. She hasn't walked this much in months and is emotionally exhausted to add insult to injury. She jumps a trolley and makes her way home.
She calls Paris. It's unfair to put it on Jess and she has no use for Lane's nuanced advice since she's well-aware that there's little she can do, Paris is her angry friend - a blunt force instrument.
"You're not responsible for the well-being of your ex-boyfriend." Paris says, naturally. "Do you need me to remind you what you are responsible for?"
"No!" Rory says firmly. "That's why I called you. I just can't escape the feeling that I made his life worse."
"Explain."
"I don't know." She presses her lips together. "Maybe I made him more pliable, maybe he would've been better off living like he did when we met."
"He would've been deranged from some venereal disease or disowned long ago if it weren't for you." Paris's answer is immediate, like it's obvious. How does she do that?
"But what if that would've been better?" Rory objects. "Maybe not the deranged bit, but-"
"Did you know that people generally maintain the same of level of happiness throughout their life, no matter what happens to them, more or less?" Paris's words are fluent, unaffected. "Like, if they lose a limb or win the lottery they're miserable, or ecstatic for a while, and then they just... baseline it. Go back to how they always felt. My point is that he was broken in his particular way long before you, and probably still is."
"This isn't making me feel any better."
"Is that the effect I usually have on you?" Paris sounds surprised.
"No. Yes. You usually surprise me." Rory says and smiles to herself.
"Oh." Paris pauses, and Rory can almost hear her raising her eyebrows. After a second, she fires off again, her aim true to her target. "Well, here goes: Suffering, like happiness - you only feel it sharply for a little while, then you get used to it. Doesn't mean it's all the same but let me make this clear: it's better to be unhappy in a thousand-dollar suit than unhappy and on the street. You bettered his circumstances. What he does with that is up to him."
Rory lets it sink in. Then she thanks Paris and hangs up. Looks out the window.
She thinks about how she won't be able to be the first one to call Logan after this. And considers that had it been just a couple of years ago she might not have flinched at his suggestion. But something's happened since then, several things really. She's learned that bad decisions blind you, in a way. Once the waters are murky it's so much harder to find your way back. She thinks about how she was never reached out before either to be honest, not even when her grandfather died, and she files that information away as a private little pat on the back. She's never been the one to pick up the phone after he broke up with her at her graduation. Right. Part of her is angry with herself for carrying guilt about that. He was the one who did the dumping after all, and very untimely, but she did say no, so maybe the roles might as well have been reversed. In his head they probably are. And then she thinks that he might always have viewed an unmarried mother a damsel in distress. Maybe this is not news. But she has a weak spot for him, she can forgive him a lot, too much, has already done that, and payed the price. And perhaps that's the way it'll always be, or not, she did undergo a metamorphosis. But she'll never look at his posts in social media the same way again. She's safe to follow him, if she gets around to it.
She's about to get off at her stop when her phone chimes. She picks it up when she's back on the sidewalk. It's a text from Logan. 'My sincerest apologies about today, Ms. Gilmore. I meant no disrespect and will be on my best behavior the next time our paths cross ;)'. She sighs, she's both troubled and relieved that he already broke the silence, sometimes she thinks there should be more of the deliberate kind between them. But she can't help a smile. She answers: 'Until next time, Mr. Huntzberger.' Seems the best she can do.
She enters the apartment and lets Will go on sleeping in the pram in the hallway, he'll wake up soon enough for his last session of the day. She drops her purse and walks into the living room falling over on the couch in over-dramatic exasperation. Jess is at the computer writing and smiles at the gesture he's registered in his periphery.
"How was Throwback Thursday?" He asks.
"I threw my back out." She whines.
He chuckles.
"That bad?"
She turns over on her side, supporting her head in one hand.
"No, not really, but, you know, you don't see the ex expecting a regular weekday."
"Maybe not. So, any big revelations?"
"A few." She stares at the ceiling fan as a thought takes shape in her head. "Remember when I said you drag everybody's debts around?"
He turns around on his chair facing her, expression questioning.
"I guess."
"Well, Logan doesn't. Never did. Not even his own." She sits up, swings her legs over the edge and sits on her hands for some reason. "Y'know that metaphor about the bag of rocks that you can simply put down? That's him. And today I'm thinking that's one of my main reasons for falling for him." She pauses, takes a breath, vaguely registers that his expression has turned wary. "Seemed so free, never got into trouble, real trouble. And being with him… you felt safe. Like you were above everything. "
"Rory-" he starts, somewhat stifled.
She releases her hands from under herself and gestures to emphasize her word.
"And it felt like living in this beautiful house that had everything you could want, or need, and it was never yours, it would never be yours." She makes eye contact with him and he closes his mouth and tilts his head as the penny drops. "You didn't have to carry all that you did, do. Why do you do it?" She asks him.
He shrugs, but chews on his lip all the same, like he does when considering something. Then he speaks.
"I don't know. I gave everyone else such a hard time and just reached a point when I had to hold myself to the same scrutiny."
"But you had the right to give them a hard time." She protests.
"Being angry with other people doesn't change 'em. Being angry with yourself…" He pauses. "That you can work with, as long as you're not just glaring at yourself in the mirror. It was actually you who taught me that."
"Me? Why?"
"Because as soon as I had you I proceeded to fuck us over. I did that. I was so sure I had everything under control, and then I didn't. I did the opposite of what I wanted. So, I need to keep myself on a short leash about a lot of things. That's why I carry the bag. It works for me." He pauses and smiles. "Plus, it's a really great work-out."
She chuckles and shakes her head. Feeling part frustration part admiration.
"You're really something, you know that?"
She's doing the dishes, listening to music when her phone rings. She picks it up and Liz is on the other end asking for Jess. Her hands are wet and covered in foam so she hurries into the living room where Jess and Will are sitting on the couch, the latter sucking on a corner of the former's shirt.
"Jess, it's Liz."
"Have her state her business." He says without looking up and she rolls her eyes but turns her attention back to the phone and asks.
"If this is about the full horoscope thing again, tell her to back off." Jess says a bit too loudly, while Liz' answer on the other end makes Rory go cold. Jess turns back to Will and goes on talking to Will, who's stuffed his mouth full of shirt by now. "You don't need to know your Mars-sign, right? It's probably better if you don't."
Rory covers the bottom half of the phone with her wet hand and tries.
"Jess-"
"Not who you were in a previous life either, as if this one wasn't confusing enough-"
"Jess!"
"What?" He turns to look at her, finally noticing and reacting to her expression. "What?" He repeats.
Her voice is broken.
"Jimmy died."