AN: Sorry for the delay in posting chapters (both this and Broken Bubble), been busy with work these days. Thanks for the reviews!
Rory was on the phone with Lorelai, who had kept blabbering the entire car ride to Catherine's place, roughly a 20 minute ride. Now she sat in her car at Catherine's driveway, in front of a medium-sized white classic antique cape the GPS had led her to, Lorelai still talking about the menu Luke had planned for the evening and how Liz and her family were arriving any minute in addition to the recent elaborate wedding she'd organized at the Dragonfly. Rory was already getting a little anxious, not wanting to keep her host waiting.
"Mom, I really have to go, I'm going to be late," Rory finally said, giving up on gentle nudges she'd been throwing at her unsuccessfully for the past ten minutes already. That, however, opened a whole other can of worms.
"Where are you going to be late exactly? I thought you were just going to be writing tonight?" Lorelai asked suddenly. Not only was Rory not coming home for Thanksgiving, now she was choosing to spend it with someone else.
"I got invited to dinner last minute, she's just a friend," she replied shortly, not wanting to really start explaining to Lorelai that she was staying at a house that came with a housekeeper. That would've simply raised more questions than was necessary. And she knew Lorelai was a little sceptical of her whole Maine venture to begin with.
"Oh," she replied a little disappointedly, almost sounding jealous.
"Enjoy Thanksgiving, mom! Say hi to Luke and the others for me," she added in singsong, already unbuckling her seatbelt and getting ready to step out of her car.
"I will, bye kid," she added, finally letting her go. From the distance there was little she could do to force her hand, to make her talk. She could feel something was off ever since she'd left for Maine, like she was keeping something from her.
"I thought that was you," Catherine already greeted from the doorway, wearing an olive green shirt-dress and a lovely pair of ginkgo leaf earrings.
"Hi, sorry I'm late, my mom didn't want to let me go," Rory apologized.
"Oh that's fine," she said, inviting her in.
The interior of the house was painted in bold darker shades of green and burgundy, accented by white trims and wood paneling, most of the furniture reminding her of the Gilmore mansion with slightly lighter tones, with some more modern touches.
"It's a lovely place," Rory noted. The place was a little fancier than she had expected, but she scolded herself for that assumption. There was no reason to presume that just because she worked as a housekeeper for the Hunzberger's, well Rothchild's to be exact, they were poorly off, especially considering that Catherine wasn't living here alone. Her knowledge of Catherine was patchy to say the least, having been fairly preoccupied with her own issues. But this evening was a good way to change that, and she certainly promised herself to try. It was a little like coming out of her shell again. Trying new things, meeting new people.
"Thank you, would you like a drink?" Catherine offered, after Rory had hung up her coat and had her follow her to the kitchen.
"Sure, I guess I could have a glass of wine," Rory said, considering she still needed to drive back later.
"White or red?" she asked.
"White," Rory replied, already eyeing what she had poured out for herself.
"Is there anything I can help you with in the kitchen?" Rory offered politely, secretly hoping she wouldn't, not wanting to embarrass herself with her lack of culinary skills.
"Everything's taken care of, it's just a few minutes before the turkey comes out of the oven. Why don't we go introduce you to my family," Catheriner replied, handing her a glass of Pino Grigio.
Rory nodded thankfully, taking a small sip and followed her to the living room. The room was fairly small, two large light grey couches placed against two of the walls and a large TV, showing the game, in the opposite corner, a bookshelves filling the two other walls. She recognized many of the books, and she was rather impressed, many of them also belonging to her own collection, now packed up in boxes in her childhood bedroom.
"Everybody, this is Rory, she's the one I was telling you about. She's a writer," Catherine introduced her. Rory was used to being called a reporter, a journalist, a freelancer… somehow 'writer' felt different, less constrained, more dignified - better.
"Hi!" she greeted, with a weak smile, feeling a little self-conscious for intruding the family's holiday like that, but despite it being very different from her usual holidays, Lorelai usually going all out, it felt still nice to be around people for a change.
"Here's Caleb, my better half," she began the introductions, gesturing towards a grey-bearded slim man wearing a navy shawl collar cardigan. Catherine had mentioned him before and Rory knew he worked as a forestry inspector. "And that's his son Elijah, he just started College this year. Elijah was a lanky looking teenager, who was staring blankly at the TV screen, clearly not too interested in her mother's guest, only nodding slightly in greeting.
"Hi there," Caleb greeted, continuing watching the TV with his son.
"And this is my son, Owen," she continued, adding, "Owen is a chemistry teacher in Portland," she explained, gesturing towards the blonde-haired guy, roughly around Rory's age by the looks of it, sitting in the armchair reading a book. He had a small beard and his rolled up dress-shirt sleeves exposed the edge of his arm tattoo. Maybe she'd seen him somewhere around the smaller villages she'd visited a few days ago or just the book, Flowers for Algernon, but somehow he looked familiar to her, approachable, like someone she'd met before.
"Nice to meet you all," Rory said politely.
"Take a seat, I'll just be a minute," Catherine added, turning to leave for the kitchen again.
"A little light holiday reading?" Rory noted, taking a seat on the couch, gesturing towards the book Owen was reading, laughingly.
"I wouldn't call it light, but it's good. You've read it?" he asked, raising his eyebrow a little.
"A while back, but I liked it," Rory replied, smilingly.
"So you're a writer? What do you write?" Owen asked curiously, closinghis book, with a postcard as a bookmark.
"I am not sure I can be called that just yet, I am still writing the book in question. But I've mostly worked in journalism until now," she specified.
"Oh yea? Anything I might have read?" Owen inquired.
"I wrote some stuff for the New York Times but mostly just regular news coverage, opinion pieces," she replied humbly. "So you're a teacher, what's that like?" she changed the subject, feeling a little uncomfortable discussing her somewhat disappointing career.
"Overworked, underpaid… but enjoyable I guess. It's good to see how kids who struggle in the beginning finally figure it out and succeed," he explained.
"I actually had my highschool headmaster suggest to me fairly recently that I should go back to school and start teaching at my old highschool. I never really gave it much thought, what that would be like," Rory commented. Somehow teaching had never seemed like a valid option for her, even despite the way she'd enjoyed the process of learning herself and had a high level of respect towards her own teachers, Max among others.
"Well it's pretty rare to get invites like that, especially if it's a good school. I assume it is," Owen commented.
"Why do you assume that?" she asked, feeling a little confused by that speculation.
"Well mom told me you've been staying at the house she takes care of, that crowd usually tends to be the private school type, no offence," he explained, with a mild smirk.
"It would be very satisfying to prove you wrong, but the best I've got is that I only went to private school for a few years," Rory stated, taking a sip of wine.
"Alright guys, dinner is ready, come and help me carry everything to the table," Catherine called from the doorway.
Catherine had made orange glazed turkey along with mashed potatoes, beans and all the traditional sauces. Everything was delicious and Catherine was left wondering how Rory managed to keep her figure with her appetite, even though Rory tried to be polite and limit herself. They discussed books, local sights and even Yale, discovering that she and Catherine had even stayed at Durfee Hall just like she had. Rory didn't stay too long, not wanting to impose on their family time, taking a large piece of pumpkin pie with her to eat while she wrote, the evening inspiring her to write a couple of her own takes concerning family dinners at her grandparents. She was glad she went. Somehow the world seemed ever so slightly bigger, but not just that, also deeper. For years she'd just seen bigger and wider, perhaps now it was time to see the layers.
"Hi guys," Lorelai greeted, inviting Liz, TJ and Doula in.
"Hey Lorelai," Liz greeted her with a generous hug, "Jess is coming in a minute, he went to grab the wine we forgot in the car," she added in her usual bubbly tone.
Lorelai held open the door, waiting for Jess to catch up just as the other's headed towards the kitchen.
"Hey Jess," Lorelai greeted. She was still not quite used to Jess being something other than an arrogant teenager, having morphed into a sturdy, well-spoken and polite man. The way he dressed in his free time was still a conflicting version of the professional editor he was and the punk he used to be, the rugged look working for him quite well.
Jess handed Lorelai the bottle of wine and hung up his biker jacket, looking around. "Rory's not here this year?" he inquired, surprisedly.
"No, she's been staying in Maine, focusing on her writing," she replied. She really didn't know whether the two had been on speaking terms recently, or why he was asking. As far as she knew they'd settled into the friend zone years ago.
"Oh," Jess replied, trying to appear indifferent.
"Jess," Lorelai began, before Jess had a chance to follow the others to the kitchen, adding, "I think you should talk to her, maybe ask her about the book or something. I don't know what you guys talk about. I'm just a little worried about her. She hasn't been like herself ever since she left for Maine, and even her departure seemed a little sudden, and she doesn't talk to me the way she used to," Lorelai confessed with a worrying tone in her voice.
Jess nodded in agreement, not wanting to make any strong promises. He did care, but he really wasn't sure whether this was his place to bud in, yet he worried too, recalling Logan's comment in relation to this new information. She wasn't seeing him again, was she?