November 2013
Seattle
The woman in the red dress is constantly caressing her swollen stomach. Rory averts her eyes, trying not to stare. Next to her, Logan is sitting crossed legs, engrossed in a magazine. He came back from New York last night, especially for this.
A giggling bashful couple caught her attention next. The blonde woman smooths her skirt. They came from where the private rooms are—the sample collection room.
"Are they allowed to do that?" Rory found herself wondering at loud despite herself.
Logan looked up from the article comparing baby hiking gear. His eyes followed her line of vision, watching the man squeeze his partner's behind. "Demonstrate PDA?"
"They just came out from there…" Rory gestured her head discreetly towards the private rooms in the back.
"That happens a lot," Logan continued to flip the pages unfazed.
"Don't they have porn in there? Like movies or Playboy magazine?"
"They do."
"Do you? when you 'you know' in there..?"
"Watch porn when I masturbate into a plastic cup?" Logan offers casually. He knows that stating it will embarrass her. Sometimes Rory thinks he does it on purpose. "Wouldn't you like to know..."
Rory turns beet red.
He looks at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lip. There's no way in hell that he's going to tell her.
Awkwardness takes over. Logan went back to reading his article. Rory flexes and points her toes inside her boots and leans her head back on the wall - Waiting. She can't say she missed this waiting room. She picks up a magazine following Logan's lead and flips the pages loudly.
"Does it hurt?"
"Does what hurt?" Her head snaps up at the sudden sound of his voice.
"The procedure." Logan clarifies. Another side look.
"You don't feel anything." She turns another page. Avoiding eye contact is best.
"It's like a regular check-up, just weirder. I mean, it's not like I do anything. I just lay there on my back, legs spread and up in the air, and they do their business with the tube up my…" Rory shudders even though the room is warm. "Honestly?it's just fifteen uncomfortable minutes where I just close my eyes and try not to think about stuffed turkeys."
Logan shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "I thank you for this visual. I think you have just officially ruined the upcoming holiday for me."
"Hey, you asked."
"I now wish I hadn't."
~w~
The sky looked grim on Wednesday night before Thanks Giving. Delays in flights were already announced when they reached security. With one glance at the departure board, Logan marched with intent straight towards the lounge. Despite Rory's protests.
She hates the moments where he leads and leaves her no choice but to follow.
"How many frequent flyers miles you have?" Rory asks.
"A lot." Logan smiled charmingly at the ground hostess handing out his black credit card.
"How much is a lot?" Rory doesn't miss the flirty eye the female hostess send his way. The kind reserved for a man who looked like Logan. Who carried a credit card like Logan's.
"I'll have to ask Natalie for the exact number." He answers.
"Perfect. Enjoy your stay. This way, Sir." The hostess flashed her Mega-Watt smile at Logan. She completely ignored Rory.
"She wants to bed you." Rory felt his hand guiding her along into the stylish waiting space spotted with couches, a bar, a small buffet, and less fluorescent light. Nothing like the gate's sitting chairs. "You really don't know?"
That's what life with Logan Huntzberger looked like. Benefits just materialized with just a quick swift of his credit card. He seemed so unfazed by it.
"I'm not interested. I'm not George Clooney; I never thought it was important that I'd know." He answers.
Rory can't quite place what not interested stands for. "George Clooney?"
"You know the film where he plays a man whose job is to fire people? He's obsessed with his frequent flyer miles. I thought it was sad. Come to think of it - It's a depressing movie." Logan responded.
"Ha. Have you fired people?"
"Yes. I wouldn't mind having a private Satellite like George does, though. That's pretty cool."
"Are you for real?"
"Yes. It monitors south Sudan for civil rights violations." Logan fishing out his ringing phone and sighed at the caller ID. "It's my dad. I have to take this."
Xx
"The whole board is delayed." Rory stood looking worriedly at the flight board displayed on the screen in the passenger lounge.
"It happens." Logan's voice is unfazed.
"I'm never going to make it in time." Rory muttered, "I can't believe I let you talk me into booking a flight to New York and drive down instead of landing straight in Hartford."
"I didn't talk you into it. I suggested, and you said yes." He corrected her calmly. Logan never looked up. His phone continuously pinged with incoming messages throughout her rant. He was furiously typing.
Rory tapped her foot. She did. Spending a day in New York sounded like a good idea. She had places to go and people to see. It was an opportunity… And that might all go down the drain if the flights are late.
Plus, when he suggested it, it felt like an underlaying promise for an adventure. Rory needed a wrinkle in time. But mostly, Rory needed a transition period between Seattle and the Gilmore Thanks Giving show-down.
She was going to tell them.
"It's nearly the same travel time, if not quicker, considering you need a connection in Atlanta or Chigaco to get to Hartford," Logan answered eventually. However, he didn't know why he bothered; nothing got through Rory when she worked herself into jitters. "Make it in time where?"
"I'm going to miss the town's musical. Mom is going to be furious. Actually, no, she's not going to be furious, she's going to sulk, which is much much worse."
"The town's musical?" Amusement crept into his voice. Rory wished he'd look at her so she could see the curious twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, it's on Thursday night. Mom got the leading part this year. And let me tell you – Stars Hollow is a tough crowd. I'm in serious trouble if I don't make it down in time to wish her 'break a leg' before the show."
"Hmm."
"Are you working?"
"IM-ing. You do know today's Wednesday?" He glanced her way, briefly. Rory's blue eyes narrowed at him. He returned to his phone.
"Who are you IM-ing?"
"Natalie." He answered simply. "I'm sure she'll understand, she knows you can't control the weather. You're not a rain-maker."
"Have you met my mother? Did she seem normal to you?"
"Several times. And I rather not say. She went into business with Finn." Logan went back to his phone.
"My mother smells snow, Logan. It does not mean she's a huge fan of meteorology."
"Meteorology is fun." Rory rolled her eyes at his response. Of course. He just admitted he wanted to own a satellite, what did she expect?
"You're not taking this seriously." Rory snatched the device from his hands.
"Honestly? No. We're swimming in time. There's nothing I can say that can help the matter." He reached out his hand, expectingly, "Can I have my phone back? I'm actually doing something important."
"Like?"
"Work stuff." She reluctantly gave him back his phone. Which he finally pocketed, "Why are you stressing out about this holiday?"
"The Stars Hollow musical is a pretty big deal. It's a tradition. They do it every year."
"And will probably do it again next year. Hence it's called tradition," Logan pointed out. "It's just a play. Ask your dad to videotape it."
Rory looked like she considered the idea for a moment. Then she shook her head furiously. "It's not just a play. You don't get it."
"No, I really don't." Logan edged the pacing girl closer by the strap of her camera.
Rory found herself standing over him between his spared legs, his rested hands on her hips. What is it with men and sitting with their legs open?
"I have to be there. I have to be there because I wasn't last year, and I promised I'd be this year. I haven't seen my mom for so long; we have so many plans. There's the musical and the dinner at the inn after the show. On Friday we're going to scout for Christmas presents. And we have dinner at my grandparents – because we can never get out of Friday's night dinner. Then, on Saturday, we were going to just hang at Luke's and maybe do a movie marathon with dad and GiGi. We're all going to each have our pick." Rory rambled. "And we were going to plan Christmas. What tree we're gonna have, what's the decoration theme will be this year…"
"Sounds like a lot of planning." Logan hummed, trying to follow the string of words.
"So you see – I have to be there early. Because if I'm there one time, everything will go just as planned and Lorelai be happy. And if she's happy, she's going to react so much better when I tell her." Rory worried her lip with her teeth.
"When you tell her…?" Logan was lost.
"When I tell her about this." Rory gestured between them. That finally got his full attention.
"You haven't told her yet?" Logan's hand tagged on the camera strap again, trying to lower her onto his lap.
"No." She resisted. One hand flying to protect the camera, the other placed on his shoulder, fighting to steady herself.
"Does your Dad know? Do the Gilmores know?"
"No. And god no."
"Why not?"
"It's not exactly something you casually drop in a phone conversation. And I didn't know what to tell her. Or them." And Lorelai is not going to take it well. Rory silently added in her mind.
"About?"
"About us. I still don't."
"You're not going to throw up just thinking about it, right? Because you're starting to look a little green. maybe we should take this conversation closer to a washroom.." Logan eyed her worriedly.
Hurling seemed to be Rory's reflex reaction when her nerves got the upper hand.
"I'm not going to throw up, Logan."
"Just checking." He said, finally succeeding to load her into his lap.
"What are you doing? We're in public. Someone will see us." She tries to squirm away, but his hands confidently slide the camera out of the way to hang from her back.
Rory never in her life imagined to saddle a man on a couch in the business lounge. Let alone Logan Huntzberger. But here she is. Her blue jeans are contrasting his slacks.
"No one here cares. Or knows us." The dimples that hide in his beard flash at her. Rory deep down wishes he'd shave it off.
Her fingers instinctively rub the loose fabric of his open collar. "How did you do it? How did you tell your parents about this? What words did you use? I mean, what did you say? What did they say?"
"I just told my father that you and I are going to have a baby." His thumb draws circles on the skin between her jeans and her t-shirt.
"And?"
"He asked if I called the lawyers and said that you must attend his birthday party. End of story. I told you he doesn't get involved."
To be honest, it didn't go as straight forward and business-like as he just described. But Logan figured it was better to spare her the bloody fight about the re-reconstruction of the Huntzberger's dynastic plan. It seemed irrelevant now that his father was bizarrely enough, quite pleased with the idea of Rory.
And the plan in general.
"And your mom?" Rory bites her lip, contemplating.
"I don't know what he told her exactly. But I'm sure they run out of Treasurer cigarettes in Hartford that day." Logan said flippantly. It was how his mother's coping mechanism worked.
Mitchum inquired on behalf of his mother if they should expect Rory's company at the dinner table. Logan's answer was a firm no. He wanted the Rory interaction to go according to his terms.
"Oh. That's a bit extreme."
"My mom's a stress smoker, that's mild. When I divorced Chelsea, she checked herself into a spa in Arizona."
Rory was momentarily surprised at the little tidbit thrown her way so casually. She was sure the C topic was out of limits, and there he was just breezing through it.
"Do you want me to be there? When you tell her?" Rory was startled to feel his other hand on her thigh. Blue eyes snapped to brown.
Rory felt a sudden wind blow in her sails. She is far too aware this physical closeness soothe her. Damn, he is good at acting semi-boyfriend. He nearly made it sound like they were a united front—a false sense of normality.
Doing this together, that could be nice. Then, Rory remembered Lorelai wasn't Logan Huntzberger's biggest fan. It was kind of him to offer, but she needs to do this alone. Fight her demons, and all that.
"God, no. That would only make things worse."
"Okay." He squeezed her knee, smiling lightly. Only seconds pass before he pulls her closer, and she finds herself locked in an intensifying kiss.
"Logan." She whimpers when they break apart, "You can't just do that."
"Why not? I just did, and you liked it." He smiles cheekily. "You might want to call you mom and say you might going to be late. I checked the weather - all flights are delayed until tomorrow morning."
"You're kidding." Rory's eye boggled out, flying to the board. It can't be canceled! There goes her big meeting in New York tomorrow morning.
"The whole board is red, baby partner. You're spending the night in Seattle."
~w~
New York
"Enough about me. How have you been? Still doing the wedding thing?" Hugo throws the conversation ball into her court.
The café' near Penn Station was bustling with activity fit for its central location. It was the perfect location for under the radar meet up.
"No, not anymore."
"Still at Current?" Hugo clicked his pen twice.
"I am."
"A deal with James Parker, not bad. A big whale. I see the young Huntzberger continues to work his magic."
"I'm not sure what you mean." Rory played innocent.
"Logan Huntzberger went off the grid for a few years, but it looks like he's kicking up a storm at the digital end of the Huntzberger group as CTO. The whole town is talking about it. He was on fire at the Huntzberger gala. I understand you were in attendance; I'm so sorry I've missed you."
"So am I."
Hugo smiled slyly at her, "How is my friend Benjamin Attwood? Is he treating you alright? Now that you've caught his golden firefly."
"He's good."
"Shoot for the stars you might land on the moon. That's Huntzbereger's motto. I didn't think you have in you, Gilmore. Not what I had in mind when I sent you Ben's way. It's always the quiet ones." Hugo tapped his pen on the table as if to make a point, "So, what brings you to New York?"
"It's Thanks Giving."
"Obviously."
"Off the record?" Rory asked the reporter. He might be her old boss but still a reporter none the less—a well connected one.
"Sure."
"I might be looking for a job or an agent."
Hugo looked at her skeptic, "You have the ear of a media mogul in the making, and you turn to me for a job and guidance? I'm flattered."
"I'm keeping that separated. And discreet." Whatever she and Logan were - they weren't what he assumed they were.
"Press? or something else?"
"Just scouting and putting feelers out there at the moment. Nothing in particular. I've been trying to break into the stills film photography for a while."
"Alright. I'll keep an eye and an ear open." Hugo agreed, "So what else have you been working on?"
"This and that," Rory answered vaguely.
"Oh come on, Gilmore. I know you. There's always a side project where you are concerned. You're just too scared to leap into the water. Describe this. Describe that."
Rory tapped her fingers on the white map, "I might have been toying around with comics."
"Comics? Like your own version of Wonder Woman?"
"No. A more mature content."
"Mature like that Anime porn comics?"
Rory twisted her face in disgust. "No. Just everyday, every girl kind of comics. It took a backseat with the film stills photography I was doing. It's worth shit, really."
"Says who?"
"The Facebook community. Ben."
"I'm intrigued. You had Ben look it over?" She nods.
"Yeah. Ben thinks it's jumbled, but said it could use another eye. You came to mind as worth consulting; I was around so…" She ends her explanation with a shrug.
Hugo opens the blue browser on his phone, "Gilmore, I don't have all day. Load it up."
Fifteen minutes later, Rory was mindlessly stirring the plastic stirrer in the leftover foam of her cappuccino. Across from her, Hugo hummed and tutted. His eyes are scrolling the electronic page on his smartphone.
"Tut, tut." Hugo clicked his tongue and his pen a couple of times. "Shame Ben didn't make you run this by Logan. He would have made good with this."
Rory lowered her eyes. Her pride, among other things, prevented her from running this by Logan.
"Well, what done is done. Do you have any prints with you?"
Rory nodded, setting a copy of the comics manuscript on the table.
"Excellent." The reporter looked at a selected strip, "You always knew how to convey the message with one perfect visual delivery. Glad to see you haven't lost your touch, it works better in print. Logan would have told you that. You, my girl, need to utilize your resources better."
"Thanks."
"Leave that with me."
"What's on your mind?" Rory felt the water.
"It's inconsistent. You need to stay on message. But I do think we can make something out of it. Can I run this by a few people?" Hugo said, taking his wallet out of the side of his jacket.
"Yeah, sure."
"Brilliant." Her former boss smiled, handing her a card, "Call Vinni for the film thing. She'll hook you up with the right crowd. She's a bit of a slush, but she's loveable."
"Thanks. I need to catch my train to Hartford." Rory stuck the card into her wallet, taking out some bills. This meeting has turned out better than expected.
"I'll foot this one, don't worry about it. I'll make Huntzberger buy me a proper dinner next time I see him. He's a good orderer." He winked at the ditzy girl packing her things.
Rory flashed him an embarrassed smile. There was no point denying it as long she wasn't flaunting it.
"We'll be in touch."
~w~
New England
"You are late." Honor graced him with a huff at the door. It was as if she been standing by the door, waiting for him to ring the bell.
"Fifteen minutes. Traffic was a nightmare." Logan defended himself to his sister.
"That's what you get for not taking the jet with dad."
"I take traffic for peace of mind anytime. Dad gets chatty."
"Oh, just come in already. They are horrible tonight. Mom, especially. I don't understand why she is usually happy when you come." Honor accompanies him through the entrance of Huntzberger mansion.
"Oh come on, it can be that bad." His sister is over-dramatic.
"It's like a morgue." Honor whispers back.
"Ah, look what the cat dragged in. No Rory tonight?" Mitchum greeted in jest, standing by the drinks' cart.
Logan eyed his father suspiciously. He knew she wouldn't be. He quickly scanned the room. No signs of distracting unsuspecting parties like his nieces, nephew or brother in law. "I'm not enough anymore?"
He walked into a trap.
"More than enough. You need a proper shave, Honey." Shira appropriately kissed her son's cheek, "We were just anticipating to meet the newest Huntzberger addition properly."
"Excuse me?" Logan shared a side look with his sister.
"Scotch, neat?"
"I know you like to joke around and tease us, Logan. But at the end of the day, I thought you understood your responsibility to this family. There is a way certain things are done in this family." His mother brushed imaginary pulp off his shoulder.
"Do you want to jump in on this one, dad?"
Mitchum smoothed his yellow tie. "Not in particular. I don't get involved."
"We have a deal."
"Now Logan, you don't have the best track record when it comes to girls not taking your name." Shira Huntzberger took a sip of her pre-dinner drink.
Honor gasped. Mitchum Huntzberger visibly flinched. His mother looked at him challenging, waiting for his argument. He's not going to give her the satisfaction.
"Where's Pheebs?" Logan asked with a clenched jaw.
"Up in your old room, she found the telescope." Honor directed him softly. He turned on his heel towards the stairs.
His mother followed, "Logan; you have to understand, you bring this girl to your father's party with no warning at all. Mitchum says you are calling her your future. We have to take this seriously. Logan! Come back here!"
He doesn't wait another minute. "Call me when dinner is served."
Xx
The Huntzberger code dictates that essential discussions are not conducted in front of the kids. Logan splits his attention between Pheobe's happy chatter, his food, and his never empty glass of wine. Thanks Giving dinner at the Huntzberger household wasn't this tense since Honor announced she is marrying down.
He can't bring himself to eat the turkey. Or the stuffing. The analogy is still fresh in his mind.
Once dinner is over, the heavy stench of taboo carries in the air from whatever corner his mother is chain-smoking. Mitchum disappeared in the office. Josh stepped out for air. Honor jokes that he sits in the car in the driveway wishing to go home.
"A5," Amelia called out the board location.
Amelia got the hang of Battleship pretty quickly after a short explanation. Logan is pleased. It's the second round of the game, and so far, she's close to her second win. Phoebe, Logan's co-contender, sits in his lap and is the sole responsible for their catatonic loss.
"Ha! MISSED!" Phoebe called excitedly and turned to Logan, "She missed by one!"
"You're not supposed to say that, Pheebs," Logan muttered under his breath.
"But she missed."
"She did. But now she knows the ship is somewhere around that square because you just told her." He explains, trying not to scold, "We just say hit or miss. Or you sunk my battleship."
"Don't let him cheat you, Amelia. Uncle Logan always cheats on Battleships." Honor advised her eldest child. She was bouncing Issac on her knee.
"We do not cheat! She missed the destroyer." Phoebe argued.
Logan pressed his fingers to his eyeballs, half in laughter half in frustration. Logan was a sore loser.
"Grandpa told me that I should sell each string bracelet I make for a dollar. He also said that if people want to choose a different color combination - I should charge them another dollar for it. What do you think?"
"That's one way to make money. Phoebe, it's our turn." Logan responded.
"When I grow up, I want to be like grandpa. He's smart. People always do what he says." Amelia revealed to Logan. "Grandpa said you are going to be just like him too."
Not if he had anything to say about it. Logan sneaked a confused look at his sister.
Honor shrugged. "I told you you were needed around."
"Grampy yells on the phone a lot," Phoebe told her sister. "When I grow up, I want to marry uncle Logan. Logan's fun. Do you have a ship in A6?"
Logan grinned at Honor, who shook her head.
Amelia looked at her sister craftily, "Missed! Do you have a ship in A6?"
"How did you know?" Phoebe wondered innocently.
Logan rubbed the side of his face again. Phoebe was revealing their ship's layout by reading out their board. She was too little to this game.
"You can't marry uncle Logan." Amelia placed a red pin in A6.
"Not now, but when I'm older."
"You can't. Family members can't get married. And besides, he's going to marry Rory." Amelia said knowingly.
"Yes, I can. And NO, he isn't." Phoebe passionately argued with her sister. She turned to Logan to back her argument, apprehensive, suddenly taken over by hesitation, "Are you?"
Logan felt a little hot. It's seemed like the evening's theme.
Three female eyes hanged on him. It was Honor he dreading most, he knew her curiosity runs deeper than her daughters' and their interests. His snake-y sister was gathering information for her investigation at a later date. He was sure of it.
"No one is getting married." He managed. He really wished she'd jump in on this one.
"You are not going to marry Rory? But you brought her to the Zoo. She passed the princess test." Amelia pointed out. Logan was slightly surprised at her sharp deduction. He also wondered what bribe his mother dangled to recruit her.
"No."
"Then what do you need her for?" Phoebe was even less politically correct.
"But how are you going to have kids? You are like old." Amelia questioned her uncle.
"Girls!" Honor gasped, horrified. Amelia just stepped on Logan's sore baby spot so bluntly. Phoebe was just mean. "We do not, I repeat - DO NOT - talk like that. We certainly do DO NOT ask questions like that. It's very, very rude and impolite. Apologize."
Phoebe bites her lips stubbornly.
"Sorry. You're not old." Amelia mumbled half-heartedly.
"Pheebs." Honor warned her daughter. "Please apologize to your uncle."
"I'm not sorry. I hate Rory!" The five years old jumped up and stormed off as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"She's jealous." Amelia rolled her eyes.
Honor looked at Logan apologetic. "I swear I don't know where she gets it from."
"Really? You don't know?" His sister should look in the mirror. "Should I go talk to her?"
"And say what exactly?" Honor questioned, "The birds and the tiara story colored her impressed. The message was loud and clear at the zoo, Logan, don't confuse her. It's tough to be knocked off the throne at the tender age of five."
"Logan, do you want to see my string bracelets? I'll let you pick the colors."
"Sure," Logan said distractedly.
"Prepare your wallet. She's going to clean you out." Honor warned her brother while stroking her baby's hair affectionately. Amelia bounced away to gather her crafts. "So, you want to tell me what's going on with you and the princess? Things looked hot and heavy in New York."
Logan sighed. This house was full of spies, and he didn't want to share. "It's complicated.
~w~
Lorelai's blue eyes gave her daughter the once over, again, and again. Her eyes traveled up and down her body, stopping at the middle part of her body.
Rory suddenly felt conscious. "What?"
"That's a nice dress. Are you going to wear it to grandma's tonight?"
"Thanks. I actually wasn't sure about it; I'm not sure it works." Rory blinked at her mother's reflection in the mirror of the dressing room.
Scouting Christmas presents turned into window shopping, which turned into actual shopping. Soon mother and daughter were piling clothes and sharing a dressing room to save time. Against store policy. Lorelai argued they are allowed because they practically look the same, and no one could tell.
"It's very grown-up and sophisticated. Your boobs are bigger than I remembered."
"No, they are not."
"I can totally see that they are. Are you wearing a push-up bra?"
"No."
"They look fuller. Turn to your side."
"Mom."
"Turn to your side; let me look at your profile. Did you get a boob job and didn't tell me?" Lorelai gasped, "Oh, you totally did! Is that why you haven't been home to visit mommy for the past six months? You are never allowed to borrow any of my clothes. You're going to stretch them."
"Mom, I didn't undergo any invasive treatment," Rory said. Okay, that might not be entirely accurate. However, the dressing room was certainly not the place to open the subject.
"Your boobs are way bigger than mine, Mom."
"Not anymore, they aren't."
Xx
"I'm going to tell you something. But when I do, you cannot say a word." Rory set the cup of coffee in front of her mother. They were sitting on her mother's couch, tasting different marshmallow brands to decide which would be best for the ultimate hot chocolate.
"Why not?" Lorelai wondered at loud.
"Because I don't wanna hear it."
"Hear what?"
"What you're gonna say."
"But how do you know what I'm gonna say?" Lorelai teased.
"Trust me, I know." Rory couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Hey, I say astonishing things. Inspirational quotes, for example - Did you know Marshmallow is the stuff dreams are made off? – that was me. Oh! I have been known to say things that have changed the course of history! like, 'Hugh, I know you're with Elizabeth Harley, but how about picking up a hooker tonight?' - Also me." Lorelai smiled smartly.
"Mom."
"Okay. Gees. Fine." Lorelai stuffed her mouth with a fist of mini-marshmallows to make a point.
"Logan and I are having a baby." Rory opted for the Logan approach. Clean, simple, rip it off like a band-aid. Straight to the point.
Lorelai nearly chocked on her marshmallow mouthful. "I beg your pardon?"
"You promised not a word."
"I never promised. Logan? Logan, who?"
"You know, Logan."
"Huntzberger?"
"Correct."
"Logan Huntzberger? Are we talking about the same Logan? Blonde, rich, about yay high, Finn's best friend, Logan?" Lorelai gestured with her hands.
"The same one." Rory hugged a pillow to her chest.
"Dumped you at the airport quoting Humphry Bogart - Logan."
"Yeah.." Rory moved uncomfortably.
"I'll see you when I'll see you – Logan?"
"Well, yes, but –"
"Logan! Your boss, Logan!"
"Yes."
"You're having a baby with Logan Huntzberger. Your boss."
"Now, I know things have started a little rocky…. But, Logan and I made a rational, conscious decision; we are going to co-parent." Rory is oddly relieved her mother has chosen to hang on that part of the news, but it's going downhill fast.
"Are you feverish? No." Lorelai pressed her palm against her daughter's forehead. "Did you hit your head on the way back from Seattle?"
"Mom, stop."
"But- "
"No. This is my decision, and I'm not changing my mind. And in time, you will be happy with this too."
"Happy? Happy?" Lorelai stuttered in anger sending the snacks flying as she stood, "In what world would I be happy about this? This was not meant to happen! I did everything I possibly can to prevent this from happening! You were meant to BE better me! You were meant to DO better than me! You were supposed to KNOW better. You were not meant to be the boss's piece of the side. And you were certainly never meant to get knocked up by some immature, irresponsible, undependable society boy! Great. Great. Just awesome, Rory. Stellar life decisions!"
"He did not knock me up!" Rory cried in defense, but Lorelai Gilmore is far too invested in her rant for it to get through.
"God! What is with you and that guy?!" Lorelai grabbed her head with her hands, "Is he that good in bed? I am starting to think I missed out on something not sampling spectacular Logan Huntzberger ride when I had the chance!"
"What do you mean when you had the chance?" Rory felt jealous juices climb up her throat.
"That boy flirts!" Lorelai cried defensive, "God Rory, have I taught you nothing? Nothing, at all? It might now be too late; we can still figure something out. How far along are you?"
"What… You have got to be kidding me. There's nothing to figure out."
"Look, Rory, take this advice from me, listen to my hard-learned lesson." Lorelai's tone turned serious, her hands pressed in a plea, "Once you have a kid with someone that someone is forever in your life. And it can get messy. Very messy. I don't regret anything. Nothing at all, I LOVED our life. I LOVE my life as it is. YOU are the BEST thing that happened to me. You know that! You don't have to do this; the world is different; you are different! You are not me."
"Mom! I'm not pregnant! - Yet."
"Wait – What?"
"As I said, Logan and I are going to co-parent. A lot of people are co-parenting nowadays."
"Co-parent. I'm sorry, how does it seem right to you?"
"Yes," Rory says with more certainty than she feels.
"Is this a new post-modernist term for boyfriend and girlfriend I'm not familiar with? Is that what's rocking out there on the west coast these days?"
"Logan is not my boyfriend. A lot of people are co-parenting these days. It's not unusual. You don't know because you never had to think about having kids!"
"You, Rory Gilmore, the girl who knows nothing about babies? Who is terrified of babies! Who was scarred for life by her half-sister's birth? Color me surprised! Rory if a kid is what you're after – and I don't see what's the rush – get a proper boyfriend or a sperm donor. Don't put more complications to that equation! Don't get tangled up some guy who…."
"Like you did?" Rory recognized the effect her words inflicted visible on her mother's face the moment they flew out of her mouth.
"Oh, that's rich," Lorelai's lips turned into a thin line. "No one - especially not me - forced your father to make the choices he made."
"Logan is not dad. He wants this." Rory found herself defending him against her personal hesitations. Hell, Logan was far more invested in this than her.
"Wanting this means you? Or the kid?" Lorelai looked hard at her, usually, sensible daughter. Her expression is doubtful.
Rory couldn't hide the fleeting doubt on her face when her mother voiced it at loud. She gathered her best-determined voice, "This isn't an arrangement I didn't think through. We have the custody arrangement all set up. I know what I'm getting myself into. You just hate that's it's Logan."
"This has nothing do with Logan!" Lorelai gawked at Rory's doubtful glare, " Logan is a lovely young man. He's nice and polite. And attractive. He's got that hair, the hair that could sell shampoo to a bald man. Logan is a charming young man. You want to date Logan? Date Logan! Dating is completely different."
"I know that tone."
"What tone?"
"The sound of suppressed judgment."
"No judgment."
"A lot of judgment."
"Are you listening to yourself? A custody agreement. So you have a contract- that's makes everything alright? It doesn't work like that, Rory. This is so so wrong."
"Yes. It does. It protects both of us."
"No, it protects him! People like Logan, people like your grandparents - they live in a world of contracts – and you know what contracts are used for in that world? I'll tell you what for – to hide dirty little secrets." Lorelai's judgment oozed out of her mouth.
"I'm not his dirty little secret." The insult burnt.
"Open your eyes, Rory! That is exactly what you are!"
"That's not what I am! Logan is my baby partner, alright?! We're doing the IVF thing." Rory says in a clipped voice.
"The IVF thing? Like in a lab? What the hell, Rory?" Lorelai's eye bulged out of their sockets.
"Mom.." Rory tried to remain clam.
"This is unbelievable! Rory, I feel I failed my motherly duties at explaining how babies come into this world. I realize it's probably a little too late to do this now. But listen carefully, I'm going to give it my best anyway. Here it goes:" Lorelai took a deep breath.
"You don't need to explain the birds and the bees to me.."
In a beat, Lorelai broke into a Cole Porter song: "Birds do it, bees do it, even educated flees do it, let's do it, let's fall in love…In Spain, the best upper sets do it, Lithuanians and Letts do it, Let's do it, let's fall in love…"
Rory grabbed a pillow off the sofa aiming at her mother. She's not going to sit through this musical number. Suddenly Logan's offer to tag along seemed like a good idea. This would have never happened if Logan's was here.
"You hit me with a pillow!" Lorelai exclaimed.
"Stop! Just stop! This is not a joke!"
"OF COURSE IT'S NOT A JOKE! THIS IS ABSURD!"
"THIS IS NOT ABSURD! THIS IS RATIONAL!"
"Rational? Rational? Ever since you've met this boy, you've been nothing BUT rational! What is the point of turning this into a complicated, expensive medical procedure? Just get into a room, close the door, and…" Lorelai gestured her hands dirtily. "Repeat if necessary until something happens. In your case, it only took ten minutes. You don't even have to get a room! We did it on the balcony!"
Rory's nostrils flared.
"My kid will have a father. A father who's going is there. And it's going to be Logan. You might no be happy about it, but you don't get to have an opinion about this."
"And you think that's Logan's gonna be there? Huh?" Her mother challenged, "Don't be naïve, Rory. Let me tell you something about guys like Logan. Logan is an immature, emotionally messed up, rich boy, who is hiding from the real world in Seattle. This man's only ambition is to avoid facing reality and stepping up for his family obligations and the responsibility that comes with it. Very promising."
"And hiding out in Stars Hollow isn't?" Rory's tongue clicked. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't even know him! You think you do – but you don't!"
"Neither do you! Knowing a guy in the biblical sense does not mean you know him!" Lorelai was beyond mad, "I chose to leave that world. And I stand by that decision every day."
"No, you've never left! You just like to pretend that you did! You dive in and out when it suits you. When you need money you're in. Otherwise you're out. And now you're marrying dad, remember? So what did you exactly leave behind? Nothing! You and Logan, you are exactly alike- the only difference is that Logan is not a hypocrite about it." Rory's word came out like bullets from a machine gun.
"Hey!" Lorelai called "Low blow, daughter!"
"You know what, mom?" Rory stood up, strapping the camera back over her neck. "This was me making a nice gesture to include you in my life. Consider yourself un-included!"
"What's going on?" Both women named Lorelai turned their heads and blazing blue eyes to look at the brown-eyed man responsible for their life story.
"Chris.." Lorelai starts.
Rory decides it high time to make her exit. Her shopping bags waits by the door.
"Oh, you're going to have to walk faster than that. You're going to have to turn into friggin' Flo Jo to get away from me." Lorelai followed her daughter out.
"Well, you need to turn into fucking Usain Bolt to catch me!"
"Yeah? where you are going? To Logan? God, Rory, why do you keep running to that guy? The decent picking of Seattle's men is that slim?"
Rory turned around angrily; the juggled shopping bags make a dramatic noise.
"Because of you! You pointed him out of me at Finn's wedding. You got together with dad without telling me. You didn't call on my birthday. You decide to get married and expect me to be happy for you! But you can never be happy for me! You can always only pass judgment! It's you that keeps making me run to him! And I love him!"
Both Lorelai's stare at one another, shaking with anger and stunned.
"Rory.."
"I hate you!" Rory threw the final word and turned around.
~w~
"I hate you!" Finn announced as the door of the Hartford house flew wide open to reveal the tall Australian.
"What did I do now?" Logan asked cautiously. He didn't expect this kind of greeting.
"Don't ring the doorbell, Logan, it wakes the baby. Didn't Colin tell you that?"
"I thought we only listen to Colin if the law enforcement is on our tail?"
"Oh, I'm just messing with you!" Finn pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, ushering him in. "Come along; I want you to meet someone special. It's about bloody time; the cigars were about to dry out."
"Cubans?"
"What else? Only the best for my girl." Finn rested his hand on Logan's shoulder, just as they are about the enter the Kitchen. "Play nice."
"I'm always nice. Is there any cake?" Logan didn't miss a beat and push past Finn.
He couldn't walk into a more hostile setting if he tried. Kim held the piping bag full of frosting over a dozen cupcakes. "Took you long enough."
"Kim."
"Logan."
"Well, awesome! Everyone is re-acquainted. Great. NOW, Let's move on to the grand introductions." Finn called happily, lifting the baby out of the stroller.
"Finn, don't wake her." The Australian's wife warned the chippy dad.
"I'm going to wake her. She has to meet Logan. Now that he got off his mighty horse. He only stops by once in a blue moon."
"I hope it kicked him on his way down."
Logan ignored the dig.
"There she is…. My Sabrina." Finn and pushed the baby into Logan's unprepared arms. It took a minute to shuffle the infant into a more comfortable position.
"Like the witch?" Logan quipped.
"Don't be daft, as the cake!" The Australian beamed at his wife, who sulked eyeing the blonde suspiciously. "You're a natural, mate. She likes you."
"Girls always like me. Mothers not so much." Logan smirked, cradling the baby carefully.
"Haha. True. I'm going to find my cigar cutter." Finn announced, bouncing out of the kitchen, leaving Logan alone with the pastry chef much to his dismay. If Finn hadn't left him with the child, she might have stabbed him with a whisk.
~w~
"And then, she broke into a song!" Rory throws her hands up in the air, falling on her back on the bed next to him. "I like the yacht. Your socks have carrots on them."
Rory looked in the wrong head space when she stepped off the bus at Hartford. And it looked like she cried too. Logan had many questions, starting with why the hell was she riding the bus? Yet, talking seemed like the last thing she wanted to do. So, he ushered them back into his hiding place on the yacht. Logan can't stand staying another minute at the Huntzberger's mansion.
Once the joint kicked in, it came pouring out of her.
"They do. A song? What song?" Logan propped up on his elbows, trying to keep a straight face.
"I don't want to tell you." She pouts in frustration.
His smirk widens, "Why not?"
"You'll enjoy it too much," Rory mumbled, not meeting his eye.
"Well, now you have to tell me." Logan pulled her on top of him, his fingers running through her silky hair, "So I take it didn't go too well?"
"The chances of this going well were slimmer than zero. It went horribly wrong." Rory muttered into his chest. She sniffed him next. "Why do you smell like cigars?"
"I saw Finn's baby today. Sabrina." Logan placed a kiss on the top of her head, one hand resting at the small of her back the other grazing her side.
"Like the witch?" Rory giggled.
"Like the cake."
"They had one of the best wedding cakes I ever ate. Ah, that amazing whipped cream." Rory sighed contently. Hands were groping aimlessly.
"I always forget you were there."
"It's kinda insulting since you tried to bed me."
"No, I didn't."
"Oh, totally did." She gives him a crooked smile. He can't help but smile back.
Her closeness is exciting. The fact she doesn't reject his touch just fuels him more, but Logan is holding back. And it's not lost on him; both their guards are down under the influence, so is his self-control.
"I would have braved Kim's evil eye and raided the fridge again if I had known I'd see you today. Your appreciation for Kim's whipped cream is well established. Especially with grapefruit."
"What? who told you that?" Rory's head snapped up to look at him.
"Your grandfather." The words that leave his mouth and the actions of his hands are strangers. His hands should not be groping her when discussing her grandfather. Their bodies started to melt into each other.
"I can't believe he said that to you." Rory moaned embarrassed, grazing her face on his neck.
His eye nearly rolled back with pleasure. "It was a very embarrassing moment. I don't quite know what it means, but I think I'm cool with that."
"Logan?"
"Mmmm?" Logan stares at her.
"Are my boobs bigger?"
"What?" He wasn't expecting that. If this is not an invitation, he doesn't know what is.
"My mom said my boobs look bigger than they used to."
"I'm not one to complain." His hand gently cups one, and his smirk widens, Rory jabbed his ribs; this only sends them grinding closer. "Aw, what did you do that for?"
"You're a jerk."
"So, what else did she say?" his fingers toy with her hair.
"I don't want to talk about it." Rory effectively shut down the conversation with a demanding kiss.
Xx
"Urrgh. My head swimming. I have to go to Friday night dinner." The weird sensation makes Rory whine into his shoulder. "I have to see my mom."
"One, two, three, cha cha cha." Logan pushes her a little.
"Nothing left to do but get up and face the music." Rory threw the covers away, reaching into her abandoned shopping bags. She turned, holding out two possible dresses at him. "Which goes better with an angry mother?"
~W~
"The turkey is stuffed with grapefruits. I told Anise we have to have something with grapefruit for Rory. I hope you'd be pleased. Anise found the recipe on YouTube."
Rory looked at her grandfather under lowered lashes. Richard Gilmore bites on his fork to stop his laughter. This joke has dragged on incredibly too long now. She can't believe he told Logan about the grapefruit.
"It's delicious, Emily." Christopher appeased the Gilmore matriarch as usual. Generally, at this point, her mother would usually jump in with some smart ass remark. But Lorelai just sat there with a stony face, cutting her food into tiny pieces.
Rory didn't know what was more unnerving. Her mother, the fact that her grandmother knew what YouTube was, or that she stuffed a turkey with grapefruits. What unlikely combination.
The turkey stuffed with grapefruit. No doubt about it.
Rory wished Logan and her never had the turkey conversation in the first place. They shouldn't have practiced the missionary version of turkey stuffed with grapefruit this afternoon, either. The visuals burned in the front of her mind.
Rory pushed her plate away. She felt queasy just looking at the turkey.
"What's wrong, Rory? Don't you like it?"
"I've gone off grapefruits?" She's never touching Logan again. She should have taken the anti-nausea medication he offered.
"You have?" Her grandfather looked surprised by the mixed message.
"Well, why didn't you say so? Why am I'm always the last one to know anything in this family?" Emily put her fork down, "I'll ask Anise to make something else for you."
"It's fine. Grandma. Really. No need. There's enough food." Rory reached for her water, hoping her grandmother would move on for another subject.
Emily sat back down in her seat, "Did you have an exciting afternoon? I stopped by the pool house, but you weren't in. I didn't know you had any plans."
"No plans. Mom and I went shopping, and afterward, I was just fooling around at the harbor." Rory tried to keep her voice light and casual. She regretted her choice of words the moment they left her mouth. "With the camera."
Lorelai snorted and mumbled something.
"The harbor is wonderful this time of year." Richard pointed out with his knife.
"The harbor? What business could you possibly have at the harbor?" Emily wondered, "Did you say something, Lorelai?"
"I said maybe we should call Logan Huntzberger and ask." Lorelai's words exploded in the dining room.
Mother and daughter stared at each other—one with hard eyes, one brimming with tears.
"Don't be absurd, Lorelai. Why would we call…" Emily Gilmore waved her daughter off out of habit, but as her eye-rolling landed on Rory's face, the mood changed. "Good Lord. Logan Huntzberger?"
"Wonderful news!" Richard Gilmore beamed at his granddaughter from his place at the end of the table.
Emily begs to differ, "How is that wonderful news?! Mali Rosen says he has a substance problem and…"
Rory moved uneasy in her chair and shared a distressed look with the two males sat at the table.
"If Mali Rosen spent half the time she spends bad-mouthing the Huntzberger boy doing actual charity work, there will be world peace by now." Richard Gilmore intervened, "Everyone has a past."
"Lorelai, how could you let that happen?" Emily slammed her cutlery on the table.
"Me? Does it look like I approve this ridiculously toxic interaction?"
"G, why don't you go upstairs?" Chris suggested to her half-sister.
"But, this is interesting."
"Now. G." Rory's half-sister pushed her chair back in a huff. Rory wished they'd switch.
"If you hadn't insisted on demonstrating your disrespect to every society acceptable code of conduct… preventing Rory from a good upbringing…"
"Rory had a good upbringing! It just wasn't your kind of approved upbringing. But I did a good job! I did a brilliant job. On my own. Every step of the way."
"We have done nothing but sit on the sidelines, accepting your liberal ways of upbringing in silence. Your father and I have done nothing but provide and support Rory ever since you let us back into her life. But as it turns out, your influence is just too strong; it's inevitable Rory would be inspired by your ways. You don't have the best track record when it comes to men, Lorelai… But you were supposed to lead by example!" Emily fumed. "No offense, Christopher."
"None taken." Christopher Hayden mumbled.
"And you –" The Gilmore with the pearls turned to her granddaughter, "You were supposed to BE better. You were supposed to DO better. And now you're running around with that scandalous trump of a man. Richard back me up here."
The Gilmore man stayed silent, his eyes remaining steady on his grand-daughter, holding an inner smile.
"Hey! She was fine! She was fine until she met this guy!" Lorelai turned her drums of war towards her father, "and you – you encouraged it!"
"Richard, have you known about this?"
"Of course he knows about this. Dad has been playing cupid since Christmas!"
"Lor.." Christopher laid a hand on her arm.
"Richard? Is that true?" Emily didn't know where to look first, "You can not date a man like him, Rory. That man is bad news. His reputation proceeds him."
"Logan is not a.." Rory started only to be cut off by Lorelai.
"Oh, don't worry, Mom. She's not dating him." Lorelai forcefully cut her food into even tinier pieces, keeping a sarcastic smile, "She's just having his child. And soon we will be one big a happy family. Us and the Huntzbergers."
"Dear Lord. You're pregnant?!" Emily slammed her cutlery on the table. "Lorelai, how could you let that happen?"
"Me? Are you blaming me? I've been against this whole thing since day one!" Lorelai switched from stone to fire, "Do you think I encouraged my beautiful, bright, over-achieving, Yale-educated daughter to be her boss's dirty little secret? Seriously, Mom, after all this time, do you think so lowly of me?"
"No one is pregnant yet!"
"Would you two just stop it?" Richard Gilmore's voice boomed. "Rory is a grown-up, and a woman with a mind of her own, she can make her own decisions. Logan Huntzberger is a well-educated man from a good family, who is doing well in business. They make an excellent couple."
"They are not a couple! They have a contract! How very Hartford elite. A contract is not a relationship!" Lorelai's eyes focused on her daughter, "It is NOT."
"The contract is very fair."
Rory shut her eyes at her father's intervention. It's going south on all fronts.
"You knew about this?" Lorelai's head sharply snapped to her daughter's father.
"No, I didn't know about this. Rory asked me to review a contract for a friend. I skimmed it, but I don't know much about family law, so I passed it along."
"And you hide it from me?"
"Mom, don't blame him.. he was just…"
"My daughter asked for my help. She's not underage, and she's mentally fit to make clear and lucid decisions. I didn't think I had to discuss our every interaction with you." Chris rested his napkin next to his plate.
"My daughter." Lorelai corrected.
"Our daughter." Chris echoed.
"This isn't about you! Stop making it about you," Rory snapped, making her mother break the tense eye contact with her dad.
Emily agreed.
"Or you," Rory answered her grandmother. "This is my life. This is what I decided, and none of you have a say. So you have nothing nice to say – just say nothing at all. And no one is pregnant – yet."
"We will not sit here and pretend your relationship with Logan Huntzberger is acceptable." Lorelai didn't hold back.
"Than I guess we're not going to sit here!" Rory stood up.
"Sit down, Rory." Richard Gilmore said with authority. "That is quite enough, Lorelai. Emily - tell Anise to set an extra plate at breakfast; I assume we might be expecting a guest. Rory - please extend our invitation for breakfast and Christmas. He is more than welcome – if he wishes." Richard Gilmore nodded his head firmly. "End of discussion."
"Oh Lord, in the pool house." Emily fanned herself with distress.
"I think go skiing this year," Lorelai said tightly.
"You don't ski." Rory should have never retorted back.
"Ski or not. If he steps one foot in this house - Christmas is canceled!" Lorelai announced, throwing her napkin on the table, dramatically pushing her chair back.
"You can not cancel Christmas, Lorelai!" Emily jumped up after her.
"Dealing with this family is stressful." Chris rubbed his neck, looking between Richard and Rory, "I better go make sure this doesn't get too out of hand. And make sure Gigi eats."
Xx
A man and his granddaughter sit alone around a festive laden table.
"You didn't have to do that," Rory said softly to her knight in shining armor. "Thanks."
"I'm glad to see you worked your difference out. I was worried after Fez. Sometimes you are wrong even when you think you're right." Richard Gilmore sounds apologetic.
"Fez was necessary."
"Your mother was never keen on fruits. She especially discriminates the high-end produce too."
"Grandma doesn't approve grapefruits in diet."
"Well they are not the one eating it, I believe they have very little say in the matter." The insurance man logically summarizes. "Pass me the grapefruit."
~w~
Logan's hands feel different post-coitus. Tender. And he hums while his fingers absentmindedly play with her hair. Rory picks up on the habit; he does that a lot. He did it earlier today too. A comforting gesture, she isn't sure whom it serves.
"Do the other girls touch you like I do?" Her fingers trace his collar bones. The pool house windows play shadows on his skin.
"What other girls? There are no other girls." His answer is quite surprising, "I'm not the one seeing other people."
Rory wets her lips and whispers, "I don't want to be your dirty little secret."
"What? Why would you even think that you're my dirty little secret?"
Because of her mother, because he wants to keep it separate. "You said invisible strings."
"Just because I'm not advertising this, doesn't mean I'm hiding it. My friends know, my family knows. As far as I'm concerned, no one else needs to know. I don't want anyone in my business. When I said invisible stings - I meant that."
Rory says nothing. Her eyelashes blink on the bare skin of his chest. Her family knows, and it doesn't make any difference; it doesn't make her feel lighter. This man's presence in her life flares up so much resentment, yet she can't resist him.
"I got you something." He breaks contact and goes to search in his pants' pockets.
"A gift?" Rory sits up; her eyes twinkled in the dark.
"Just something." He acts coy, returning to sit crossed legs on the bed. "Amelia made it. She's setting up a string bracelet empire. She let me pick the colors." He ties the blue, white, and gold string bracelet on her left wrist.
"You got me a friendship bracelet." She teases him. "I thought you are more an over the top expensive bling-bling kind of guy."
"Trust me; I paid my best dollar on it. She's a ruthless businesswoman." She stands corrected as he settles back down on the pillows restlessly.
"You got me a friendship bracelet." Rory fingers the item.
"I didn't get you a friendship bracelet. We were never friends." Logan flung an arm over his eyes, but a smile betrayers him. Rory knows he's going to spend the night. He always stays when not in Seattle. He'll leave before breakfast, that's too much too soon.
"You got me a string bracelet." She can't stop the uncontrollable grin taking over her face. The strings are not invisible anymore.
A string bracelet. She loves the way this man's mind works.