Chapter Twenty-Nine
Saturday, June 2, 2017 - Part II
"Oh that's not my Dad. That's my nephew."
"You know, I don't really think that he could be your nephew."
"No, no, no, it's true. Annabelle is my aunt. Isn't that right, Aunt Annabelle?
"Oh wait, wait, wait. Let me guess. Are you his uncle?"
"No."
"His grandfather? … His great-grandfather."
"I'm his brother!"
"Matthew is my father's son. Annabelle is my grandfather's daughter. We are… an American Family."
"Are we not waiting for Luke?"
Emily's question hung awkwardly in the air for a moment. Rory, having been ready about twenty minutes ago, was standing back in the doorway to the foyer and watching her mother run frantically around the living room as she tried to find her phone while also slipping her shoes on her feet. Logan was standing at her side, his hands in his pockets while he leaned against the moulding.
There had already been three false alarms. Each time Lorelai had previously announced that she was ready to go, there had inevitably been something in the house that she'd forgotten, and with every proclamation that now was the time when she was actually ready, she and Logan had both inched closer and closer to the front door in vain.
Rory had apologized to him about it, of course. She'd been apologizing for a lot today. The typical chaos that occurred in this house always seemed totally normal to her until there was someone around who wasn't used to being exposed to it. Now, every little quirk her mother displayed and mishap that occurred seemed like a giant finger pointing at the amount of crazy that truly existed behind these walls. Lorelai's inability to actually get herself out the door was just the cherry on top of the neverending insanity that had been occurring since the moment they walked through the door.
Logan, however, kept brushing her apologies off. He insisted that he wasn't offended or freaked out by the daily goings on at The Crap Shack. And the last time she apologized - the second time her mother pulled them all back into the living room after realizing she'd left something - Logan had assured her that it was something that he was entirely used to.
"I do have a sister…" he'd whispered to her. "And I have lived with you before…"
Rory wasn't quite sure how to take that comment. She didn't think she was nearly as bad when it came to this kind of behavior as her mother was. She was far more organized and always on time. Still, if she was honest with herself, there probably were a few little quirks of her mother that had rubbed off on her over the years.
Now, it seemed that they were going to be held up even longer due to the conversation hanging over their head. She'd really been hoping that her grandmother simply wouldn't bring it up.
"No," Lorelai answered with a dismissive laugh as she looked underneath a magazine on the coffee table for her phone. "We're not waiting for Luke. Luke's not coming."
Her grandmother, for some inexplicable reason, seemed utterly shocked by this information. In Rory's mind, it didn't take much thought to come to the conclusion that her step-father would not be joining them this evening. But, then, Emily Gilmore operated in an entirely different social reality than they did… than most people did in the year 2017.
"What do you mean Luke's not coming?" she asked.
Rory sighed. She walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, resigning herself to the fact that they probably weren't going to make it out the door any time soon.
"It's Christopher's engagement party, Mom," Lorelai explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Yes," Emily replied. "And you said that he was invited."
"He was," Lorelai answered. "But it was just a courtesy invitation. They couldn't invite me without inviting Luke."
"It doesn't matter if it's a courtesy invitation or not!" Emily insisted. "He was invited. His wife is attending. He should be attending."
Rory started rubbing at her forehead. Ten years had passed. Ten years since her parents' ill-fated marriage had ended and her mother had gotten back together with Luke, and yet it was still causing family drama. Her parents still got along really well. It took them a while to get there, but with time their friendship had started to repair itself back to what it was like at the better points of Rory's adolescence. Her dad and Luke, however, still had quite a significant amount of bad blood between them.
Events had to be planned around the precarious relationship between her father and her step-father. Anytime they might have to be in the same room, referees were almost certainly necessary, especially if there was alcohol involved. It was enough to make Rory dread nights like this one. She's been so relieved that Luke wasn't coming tonight. And she really didn't know what she was going to do when it came time for her engagement party.
Sometimes it was enough to make her want to elope. In times past, when Rory would think about the possibility of getting married, she always imagined her grandfather walking her down the aisle. It was what she wanted more than anything. And she knew it was something that neither her father nor her step-father would ever begrudge her for. But that option wasn't available to her anymore, and no matter what she chose, she knew that she would inevitably break the heart of the other party. She didn't know what she was going to do if the day came.
When the day came.
"Mom…" Lorelai groaned. "Luke doesn't want to go. And, trust me, Christopher doesn't want him there. It's better for everyone if he just - "
"We all have to do things we're uncomfortable with for the sake of social decency, Lorelai," said Emily. "You'd think that your husband would understand that. I'm sure Logan understands that."
Rory's ears perked up like Paul Anka's at the sound of the word 'walk.' Her head snapped over to Logan who was now standing at attention in the doorway, his shoulders tense and a look of bewilderment on his face. Rory was just about to jump in to object to his name being thrown around in this argument, but apparently Logan had no issue coming to his own defense.
"Hey, whoa…" he said. "Don't drag me into this…"
"Yeah, Mom. Don't drag Logan into this. This has nothing to do with him," Lorelai agreed. "Besides, I know that he has good breeding - unlike Luke. But, I think you might be shocked to learn about all the ways in which Logan has bucked social decency in his lifetime."
"How did I get dragged into this?!" Logan asked into the ether. Rory's mother and grandmother, however, didn't seem to be paying much attention to him at all.
"I'm perfectly aware of Logan's reputation, Lorelai."
"Oh yeah?" Lorelai asked. "Were you perfectly aware of his reputation when you were assembling the dowry for Rory's Cape Cod wedding when she was twenty years old?!"
"Okay! Enough!" Rory interjected.
"He stole your sewing box."
"Stop!" Rory yelled again, standing up from the couch. "I don't know what Logan or the stupid things he may or may not have done in college have to do with this conversation, but I'm putting an end to it now. Luke is not coming to Dad's party, Grandma. Everyone but you seems to be perfectly content with that decision, so I suggest you get over it for your own sake. Now, we're going to the car because we're running late as it is, and I'm tired of listening to this. We'll see you whenever you decide that you're finally ready to go."
Rory didn't wait for a response. She stormed off out of the living room and headed straight to the front door, not even bothering to look behind her before opening it and stepping outside. Logan was quick to follow her, and unlocked the doors to his car as soon as they were out of the house. When Rory slipped into the front passenger seat, she waited a moment for Logan to catch up to her. Once he did, she turned to look at him as he started the car.
"Still fine with all the crazy?" she asked, thinking that Logan had finally gotten his fill.
"Rory…" he said instead, shaking his head. "Do I need to remind you of the shit my family has put you through?"
"No…" she answered. "But - "
"No buts. I'm a big boy. I can handle it," he said. "Besides… I kind of hope it happens more often so I can see you blow up like that again."
Rory smirked.
"Oh yeah?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," he replied, leaning over the center console. "Sexy."
He pressed a kiss against her lips and only pulled away when the sound of two opening doors from behind them broke them apart. Rory's turned around and watched her mother and her grandmother slide into the backseat of Logan's car, both of them wearing looks of shame. Though, her mom's was far more prevalent than her grandmother's.
When nothing but silence settled over them for a few seconds, Emily cleared her throat.
"Lorelai…" she said, expectantly. Lorelai sighed in response.
"Logan, I'm sorry for accusing you of stealing my mother's antique sewing box…" she started, clearly unhappy with the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Clearly a young man of your background would never do such a thing. And it was wrong of me to suggest otherwise based on no evidence other than the fact that I watched you do it, heard you talk about doing it, and forced you to give it back to me at the dinner table before pretending I found it behind the lilies."
The tension in the car suddenly melted away - at least for everyone other than Emily. The look of shock and discomfort on her face only grew. Rory, however, was fighting as her lips threatened to curl into a smile. And, Logan wasn't even bothering to hide his amusement at all. He let out a chuckle as he put the car in reverse and started to back out of the driveway.
"I forgive you," said Logan with a smirk. "As long as you promise never to tell Mrs. Eleanor Schubick that I still have her silver lighter."
"
If one more stranger walks up to me and puts their hands on my belly, I am pulling the fire alarm."
About an hour had passed since they had arrived at The Club, and it was becoming clearer by the second that Rory was already reaching her mingling limit. The complaints she'd had earlier in the morning regarding how long she'd been sitting in the car had been swiftly replaced with complaints about how long she'd been on her feet since arriving at her father's party. Logan listened empathetically, of course. But, after she'd bitten his head off the first time he suggested she sit down if she was uncomfortable, he learned quickly that she wasn't looking for advice. At this point, it seemed that she was uncomfortable no matter what she did, and over the next few weeks it was probably only going to get worse.
"I seriously don't understand," she continued. "I mean… can you please explain to me why human beings think it's okay to walk up to a person they have never met before in their life and just start touching them without any warning or prompting?! It's insane. And it's women too! It's always women. Older women. You'd think they would know better. Although, maybe it's some weird sort of revenge thing. Since they had to live through it, they need to make sure everyone else has to go through it too. Like the whole 'we can't cancel student loan debt because I had to pay my student loans' bullshit but with harassing pregnant women."
"I think people just get excited about babies…" said Logan.
As soon as the seething look spread over Rory's face, Logan realized that he'd once again said exactly the wrong thing.
"Are you seriously defending these people?" she asked. Logan sighed.
"I'm not defending. Just... explaining," he said, defending himself at the very least.
Rory grumbled. She was in a bad mood. Logan didn't think that there was anything that was really going to change that fact. Salmon puffs hadn't helped. Sitting hadn't helped. Cheating with an extra cup of coffee hadn't helped. Nothing short of leaving this party was going to help. She'd been on edge since the moment they walked into the door.
Rory was already unhappy before they'd even arrived due to the fact that they were running late. The sighs and groans and the way that she'd snapped at her mother and grandmother having the argument over Luke was evidence enough of that fact. But, even if that hadn't happened, he knew Rory well enough to know that she would still have been upset. Rory was punctual. She liked to be on time. Being late made her feel unorganized, unprepared, and out of control.
Then there was the fact that she was always a little on edge whenever her father was in the equation. It had been that way for as long as Logan knew her. When Logan was just getting to know Rory in the days before they'd been dating, she had never even mentioned her father. Her lack of reference to him combined with the vague whispers he'd heard over time regarding the salacious history of the Gilmores' prodigal daughter had made him wonder if he was even in the picture at all.
It wasn't until the vow renewal that he realized that Rory's dad was around - if minimally. And it wasn't until she'd 'returned' Frank to him after her emergency trip to Stars Hollow when he'd heard the full story. Her angry rant and mortified apology for the events of that evening had clued him into just how strained Rory's relationship with her father was.
She'd told him that he seemed to have a talent for messing up her mother's life. That when he came around chaos usually always followed. That she was so angry at him for ruining her mother's happiness again after the 'last time' that she almost never wanted to talk to him again. Over time, things had changed. She'd lightened up to Chris eventually. But, she'd never been fully comfortable when he was around.
The day she'd brought him to the apartment, things seemed normal enough. Apparently, there had been some kind of truce called between them during the couple months when they were broken up. But, even though they were getting along relatively well, there was still an underlying awkwardness that followed them to dinner that evening.
At first, Logan thought it had more to do with Chrisopher and himself than anything else. The serious drawback to having a studio apartment was that it was entirely open. So, when your girlfriend's father (who had already caught you trying to take her clothes off in a Country Club dressing room) popped by for a surprise visit to look around everything was on display. The kitchen, the living room, the single queen sized bed. It was like wearing a giant neon sign that said 'Hey, nice to officially meet you. I'm the guy fucking your daughter.'
He hadn't exactly been prepared. But, what he hadn't been prepared for more than anything else was how quickly the mood between him and Chris had changed. By the end of the night, things between the two of them were going great. Rory, however, had remained somewhat quiet. No doubt, it was the fear and anxiety that always came when things with Christopher were going well. There was always something in the back of her mind telling her that it couldn't last.
Apparently, ten years hadn't changed that.
She seemed to be acting the same way now - caught between wanting to feel happy about her father's engagement and also feeling on guard about something. Because, Rory, despite her complicated history with the man, still loved her dad. He would even go as far as to say that most of the time she even liked him. It seemed counterintuitive, but that wasn't the case for a lot of people. In fact, most people he knew didn't like their parents at all. He definitely didn't like his parents. He still loved them in his own way… like he would probably cry at their funerals when the day came or whatever. But that didn't mean he wanted to start hosting family game nights and start scheduling 'quality time' with them. The idea made him sick.
Rory actually enjoyed spending time with her dad… as long as things were status quo.
Right now, things definitely weren't status quo. Her dad was bringing another person into his world, a person who Rory already felt uneasy around due to their admittedly strange age difference. There were people all around this room that Rory had either never met or rarely met, but seemed to know her father extremely well. Some of them were even family.
He could only imagine how strange it must be to look at your own father's family and see nothing but a sea of strangers. Admittedly, he wasn't very close at all with his mother's side of the family, but he still knew who they were.
"How bad would it be if I had a glass of wine?" Rory asked, gesturing to the bar just a few yards away. He knew she wasn't really serious. She was just communicating in a slightly untoward way that she was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Still, he didn't think humoring it was a very good idea.
"Um… pretty bad, I think," he answered.
"I mean she's pretty much done cooking at this point, right? I can't really screw her up anymore?" she continued. "If we took her out now, it would be fine. She's finished. We're just keeping her in there to get a nice golden crust?"
Logan chuckled.
"I don't think that's how it works, Ace."
"Does she really need all her toes?"
"I would love her no matter how many toes she had, but I think ten is the most preferable. Sorry."
Rory sighed. Logan suddenly felt a surge of empathy toward her. Rory wasn't the biggest drinker in the world, but he was. He couldn't imagine having to go nine months without the benefit of a stiff drink at the end of the day, especially when it came to attending events that inspired a fair amount of anxiety. Nine months of being denied the ability to take the edge off. She couldn't even have too much coffee. It was no wonder she'd been eating so much more ice cream than usual.
"Look, your Dad is right over there," Logan said.
He nodded his head over to their left where just a few feet away, Christopher was standing with Lana pressed against his right side. Her arm was linked through his and they were laughing along with the conversation occurring between the small group that had assembled around them. Emily was there. And Logan recognized, much to his pain and anguish, that the teenaged blonde girl standing to Christopher's left had to be Gigi. The last time he'd seen her she was a toddler.
He didn't, however, recognize the other older woman standing with them. She was a petite woman. Her hair was tied in a tight french twist, highlighting her sharp features and her face looked as though it had been long ago frozen in a state of perpetual disappointment. But, Logan wasn't afraid of a look like that. He'd spent a lifetime surrounded by looks like that.
"Why don't we go over there, say our final hellos and goodbyes, and get out of here? We've put in enough of an appearance, don't you think? I'm sure no one will fault the very pregnant lady for ducking out early to get some rest."
"No!"
The response was clipped, sharp, and strangely nervous. Rory's eyes were glued on the group in question, and she had an almost panicked look on her face.
"He's in the middle of something. I don't want to bother him," she said, tearing her gaze away.
Something was up. There was no reason for Rory to feel like she couldn't walk over to her dad just because he was already having a conversation with someone. It was unlike her as well. Rory had always been quiet and reserved, but she wasn't exactly shy. She wasn't afraid to talk to people.
"He's talking to your grandma and your sister…" said Logan. "I think it'll be okay."
"We can wait. I don't - "
"Ror!"
At this point, waiting definitely wasn't an option. Christopher seemed to have noticed them standing so close, and was now beckoning the two of them over to the group. Yet, despite receiving a verbal invitation from her father to join him, the panicked look on Rory's face seemed to be growing.
She took a deep breath and slapped a smile on her face before turning around and walking over to them. Logan followed her, pressing a hand in the small of her back in a quiet show of support. Even though he couldn't understand why, it was entirely clear that she was extremely uncomfortable at the moment.
"There you are!" Christopher continued. He leaned forward to press a kiss on her cheek. "I've been looking for you. Hey, Logan."
Christopher extended a hand to him, and Logan accepted it without hesitation.
"Chris," he replied, right before shifting his attention to the woman on his arm. He smiled at her.
"Logan, you remember Gigi?" Chris asked, sliding a hand across his youngest daughter's back. The girl's eyes glanced back and forth between her father and Logan, confusion spread across her face. Clearly, she had no idea who he was other than the somewhat mysterious father of her sister's baby.
"Of course. But she probably doesn't remember me," Logan replied. "I think the last time I saw you, you were three and very engrossed in mutilating some Barbies."
Christopher laughed.
"That sounds about right," he said. "And this is my mother, Francine Hayden."
As Logan's eyes slid over to the newly identified mystery woman, he couldn't help but catch a glance of Rory to his left. Her back had gone straight. Her shoulders and jaw clenched. She was making eye contact with Emily in some kind of silent conversation.
There was obviously some tension here. Not that he should be surprised. In all the years that he and Rory had been together, she'd never even mentioned her paternal grandparents. Granted the subject hadn't really come up, but perhaps the fact that it hadn't come up in all that time should have been some kind of warning sign.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hayden."
Logan extended his hand to the woman. The look of disappointment that he'd noted before never left her face, and her hand was cold and limp in his as she halfheartedly reached out to shake it. But, Logan retained a charismatic smile. He'd been through one too many cotilions to let a single woman weaken his resolve.
"Likewise," the woman responded before taking a sip of her drink.
"You know Logan's mother, Francine. Shira Huntzberger? We were all on the pediatric hospital committee together - agesago."
Logan forced himself to maintain his unbothered smile and to sigh as the words tumbled from Emily's mouth. What might sound like a perfectly harmless attempt to relay a family connection to most people, was anything but. Having held the last name Huntzberger for his entire life, Logan was very deft at recognizing when it was being dropped. And right now it was being dropped.
For whatever reason, Emily wanted Christopher's mother to know that he was a Huntzberger. And, judging from the hint of smarminess in her tone, he had the distinct feeling that she was rubbing it in.
"Of course," Francine replied. "How is Shira doing?"
"She's doing very well," Logan answered.
"Getting ready for the baby, no doubt," Emily continued.
"Um… yeah. Sure," Logan responded. He supposed his mother was 'getting ready' for the baby, in so much as she'd bought the entire infant girls' clothing section at Saks and was amassing an entire workshop's worth of toys. "Either that or she's planning to single handedly reopen FAO Schwarz."
The group humored him with a laugh, but Logan couldn't help but notice that Francine's face was still stoic and harsh. Her attention was focused on Rory, and Rory was trying her hardest to pay attention to anything else.
"And… Rory…." the woman said, sounding almost unsure if she should say her own granddaughter's name out loud. "Are you… getting ready for your new arrival? The last your father told me, you weren't entirely sure what your living arrangement was going to be."
Judgement was dripping from the woman's tone, and suddenly Logan was finding it far more difficult to maintain the pleasant smile on his face. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Christopher's mother held no affection for her eldest granddaughter, and Logan was quickly determining that he held no affection for her.
"We actually just put an offer in on a house," he replied, coming to Rory's aid without a moment's hesitation. In any other context, she might get annoyed with him for fighting her battles for her. But, currently, Rory seemed so frozen in the presence of the woman that she didn't seem to mind a single bit.
"You did?!" Christopher asked. "That's great news! Where is it?"
"Brooklyn Heights," Rory answered. "It needs some renovations, but it's nice."
"Yes, very nice," Francine agreed. "Seems that Logan here arrived in the picture just in time."
At this point, all chances of Logan keeping a pleasant face were lost. The smile slipped from his lips, and he prepared to let her know in no uncertain terms what exactly he thought of that comment. But, perhaps fortunately, Christopher jumped in before he got the chance.
"Mom," he growled, fixing her with a dissatisfied glare. Lana's grip on his arm tightened, either in an effort to keep Christopher from jumping at her or to keep herself from saying something that would ruin what was probably already a strained relationship with her future mother-in-law.
"What?" Francine asked. "I'm merely pointing out how fortunate it is that Rory managed to find a man of Logan's background. She must be grateful that he has the means to provide for his family. What with her… struggles as of late."
"I think you'll find, Francine," Emiy began, her tone biting. "That Rory never needed to worry about providing for her child. Her family has always been perfectly capable of seeing to that."
"Thank you, Grandma. I appreciate that, but it's not necessary," said Rory.
Suddenly, for the first time since they'd walked up to her family, Rory' dropped her nervous disposition. The tension that she'd been holding in her shoulders was morphing into a strong show of posture. Her back straightened, and she squared her jaw.
"I am very grateful to have Logan in my life, Mrs. Hayden," she continued. "Because I love him very much, and I know he is going to be a wonderful father to our child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."
Rory moved faster than he'd seen her move in quite some time. She turned and started making her way through the banquet hall toward the vestibule. He looked back at the group one more time, silently conveying his apologies for leaving in such a hurry as he took off after Rory. Yet, between the crowd around him and the headstart Rory had gotten off to, he'd barely made it halfway through the room before he saw Rory disappear through the vestibule doors.
He stopped, knowing that at this point it was useless to chase her. She'd be in the ladies' room before he'd be able to catch up with her, and she probably just needed to give herself a few minutes to get her head straight.
He sighed in defeat as he planted his feet on the ground beneath him. Then, for the first time, he noticed Lorelai standing not ten feet away from him. Her head was turned in the direction of the restroom as well, no doubt having seen Rory run off in a hurry. She looked at him, and took a few steps closer. The concern and bubbling anger clearly present before she even knew what had caused Rory to run past her in such a state.
"What happened?"
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Rory, the sound of her breaths became abundantly noticeable to her. Her heart was beating quickly and she could feel a slight tremor in her hands.
She was having a panic attack.
It wasn't her first rodeo. She'd become well accustomed to the feeling of her chest tightening and her breaths getting shallow while she attempted to collect her thoughts. They always presented the same exact way, ever since the very first time she'd experienced one at the thought of facing Mithcum at that DAR fundraiser.
This was, however, the first time she was having a full blown panic attack while she was pregnant, and she wasn't sure what to do. She knew that it couldn't be good for the baby. She knew that she needed to calm down in order to keep the baby from harm. Yet, the knowledge that if she didn't calm down some harm might befall her baby only sent her into an even worse spiral of anxiety. It was like an uncontrollable snowball rolling down a hill.
She took a couple of steps into the lounge, making it as far as a hall table pressed up against the yellow and cream striped paper covering the walls. She placed her hands on the table and bent her head down, trying to steady herself by counting to four with every inhale and exhale.
"Are you alright, dear?" a voice asked to her left. She felt a gentle hand on her back and turned her head to the side. An unfamiliar woman was standing next to her, dressed in a ruched black dress. She had short curly grey hair and a pair of cluster pearl earrings in ears. But, what Rory noticed most of all was the genuine concern in her eyes.
"I'm okay," she said, nodding.
"Are you sure?" the woman asked. "Would you like me to get someone? Your husband? Have you been having pains all night? How far apart are they?"
"I'm not in labor," Rory assured with a shake of her head.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I've had four children. It can sneak up on you, you know…"
"Yes, I'm sure," Rory insisted. "I'm just… I'm just having a panic attack."
"Okay," said the woman. She moved the hand that was pressing against Rory's back to her arm and started to gently pull her in the direction of the seating area. "Let's get you off your feet."
Rory obliged the stranger, giving no resistance as she led her over to the plush couch. She had to admit, she was suddenly extremely grateful to be in a Country Club bathroom. In all the times she had stepped foot in one over the years, she always found them to be indulgent and overly extravagant. She didn't see the need for an entire elaborately decorated lounge attached to the stall area. She could hardly imagine ladies sitting down for tea in the middle of a restroom. But, right now she had to admit that she was thoroughly grateful for it.
As soon as she sat, the woman who had come to her aid stuffed a pillow behind her back. The four bouts of pregnancy she'd been through had clearly provided her some insight into how to best make her comfortable.
"Deep breaths," she coached, rubbing gentle circles into Rory's back. They sat there for a few moments as Rory's breath and heart rate calmed.
"Rory?" a new voice suddenly asked as the door swung gently open. A head of auburn hair peaked inside, and a look of relief befell her face as soon as she saw that she was being attended to. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"It's a public restroom…" Rory answered, a bit breathlessly. Lana gave her a solemn smile and stepped all the way inside. Her eyes landed on the woman sitting next to her on the couch, and her smile grew.
"Thank you, Aunt Carol," she said. "I appreciate you looking after Rory like this."
"Rory?" the woman, Carol, asked. "Oh, you're Christopher's girl! I've heard such wonderful things about you. You should hear him go on. He's mighty proud of you."
She probably expected that the comment would improve her mood. After all, for most people, hearing that your parents complement you all the time behind your back is usually a boost for the ego. Right now, however, it had the opposite effect. Rory's lip started quivering, and her eyes started to unleash a torrent of tears.
"He is," Lana agreed, looking at her aunt. "Do you mind?"
"Of course," she said, standing up and straightening her dress. "It was nice to meet you, Rory."
"Thank you," Rory replied. She looked up to make eye contact one last time with the woman and smiled before she walked out the door.
Suddenly, she found herself alone in the restroom with Lana, something that under normal circumstances, might leave her feeling awkward and uneasy. But, right now she didn't seem to mind it at all. Rory's discomfort with Lana was nothing compared to Francine.
"She's terrible, isn't she?" Lane asked.
Rory was taken by surprise. She furrowed her brow and started shaking her head.
"What? No. She was nice..."
Lana laughed and shook her head. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to her, replacing Carol's previous position
"No, not Carol," she started explaining. "Carol is lovely."
Right. Rory should have assumed that she wasn't talking about Carol, but her mind wasn't exactly the most clear at the moment.
"I meant your grandmother."
Rory's heart stopped a minute at those words. Lana certainly wasn't talking about Emily, and she didn't know how she felt about anyone else being addressed in such a way.
"I don't really like to call her that…" she said, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips.
"Right," said Lana. "Of course not."
"I don't know why I let her get to me like this…" Rory said.
She wished that she could get her emotions in line. There was no reason why Francine Hayden's opinion of her should still affect her in such a manner. She had only seen the woman a handful of times in her thirty-three years on this plant, and each time had been tense, uncomfortable, and borderline confrontational. Yet, despite all the growing up she'd done over the years, her father's mother still had a way of making her feel like a sixteen year old girl desperate to be loved and accepted and instead finding herself entirely rebuffed.
"She has a talent for getting under people's skin," said Lana.
Rory considered Lana for a moment. She hadn't ever stopped to think about the dynamic between her and Francine. She never stopped to think much about Francine at all if she could help it. But, clearly, there wasn't exactly a unbreakable bond formed between the two of them in the time she'd been with her dad. She was filled with a sudden burst of empathy at the striking realization that she and Lana had something in common.
"The first time Chris brought me to meet her, she basically called me an aging slut to my face. She made some comment about how 'blessed' I was to have the confidence to wear such a 'form-fitting' dress at my age."
Rory let out a short laugh, not out of amusement but rather out of a strange mixture of shock, disbelief, and recognition.
"The first time I met Logan's mother, she told me I wasn't bred for their family, and then later on she basically accused me of being a gold digging whore who tricked Logan into getting her pregnant so… I know how you feel." Rory sniffed and wiped her eyes again. "But, apparently, she isn't the only one who thinks that. So…"
Lana was quiet for a moment. She reached out a hand and tenderly placed it on Rory's forearm.
"It's not okay that she said that to you," she said, seriously. "That either one of them said that to you. But the fact that your own grand - well… the fact that your father's mother said that to you is inexcusable. Besides, she forfeited the right to comment on your life a long time ago."
"I just... " Rory trailed off. "It feels so stupid but I… I still want her to like me. I don't know why, but I do. I want her to know that I didn't..."
Ruin her father's life.
So much of her hang up around her father's parents was rooted in the fact that they thought she ruined her father's life. She tried so hard. She tried so hard to prove them wrong. She worked so hard to be the best at everything she did, and in the end none of it ever really made a difference.
Francine still looked at her like she was a living reminder of all of the ways that her son had failed to live up to their unreasonable standards.
"It's not stupid," Lana comforted. "But it's also not necessary. You were a baby, Rory. You don't have anything to prove to her. The fact that she blames you for anything that happened with your parents is her issue. It has nothing to do with you."
Rory wiped at her eyes again and nodded. She was making such a spectacle of herself, breaking down in a public restroom in front of a total stranger and crying her eyes out to her father's fiance.
It wasn't right. Rory had been so cold to Lana since the moment her father had introduced them. She didn't deserve this kind of kindness from her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm embarrassing myself, and I'm pulling you away from your own engagement party."
"Don't be silly," Lana replied. "You were pulling me away from my mother-in-law. I jumped at the chance to come check on you. I know I'm not exactly your favorite person, but your mom was pretty busy giving Francine a mouthful."
Rory looked over at Lana in anguish. She'd always been worried that her discomfort around Lana was obvious, but they'd never voiced it out loud. She would have been perfectly happy never giving voice to the awkward feelings that always existed between them, but, then, Rory was a master at avoiding difficult topics. Lana, however, seemed to have no qualms with jumping right in.
"Lana…" she started. "I… I don't dislike you. I…"
"Oh, Rory…" Lana replied with a sigh. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just making a joke. A bad one, perhaps But - "
"No. I…" Rory interrupted before she'd taken the time to even get her thoughts together. "It's just that I don't have the best experience when it comes to this whole… step-mother thing."
"I know," Lana replied.
"And I'm… I mean we're…"
Rory gestured back and forth between them. She was having difficulties finding a way to say the words without sounding rude or insensitive. She'd just been sent to the bathroom crying over the subtle implications in Francine's comments to her. The last thing she wanted to do was say something that would accidentally manage to make Lana feel as judged and belittled as she felt right now.
"I mean, it's weird… isn't it?"
To Rory's great surprise, Lana actually gave a small burst of knowing laughter. Their age difference had been such a pink elephant between them since the moment they had met, and Rory was so worried about saying anything about it for fear of upsetting her or her dad. Yet, it seemed like Lana was having the same thoughts.
"It's weird," she agreed. "I know it's weird. I knew about Gigi before your dad and I started dating, and getting used to the idea of dating a man with a fourteen year old was an adjustment enough. But, when we started getting to know each other and he told me about you… well… I have to admit it threw me for a bit of a loop. I mean… you're old enough to be my sister."
"Yeah," Rory breathed. "I thought the same thing."
She'd never realized how good it would feel to finally set the elephant free. Getting the words out into the open was a relief that she hadn't realized she so desperately needed. And knowing that Lana had been feeling the same unease all this time was strangely… comforting.
There had been a lot of realizations about the relationship between her and her father's future wife this evening. Apparently, they understood each other far more than Rory had ever imagined.
"And… it's okay if you don't think of me as a step-mother," said Lana. "I'd settle for a friend though."
Rory smiled at her.
"I think I can manage that," Rory replied.
Lana smiled back and squeezed her arm affectionately.
"I'm glad," she said. Then, she stood up slowly, straightening her dress as she moved. "Now, if it's okay with you, I think I'm going to go tell your boyfriend that you're okay. He was quite concerned, that guy."
"He's sweet," said Rory with another smile. Lana nodded.
"You know… he really is," she said. "Honor's little demon brother... Who ever would have imagined? Will you be okay in here by yourself for a second?"
"Yeah," Rory answered, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. But…"
Lana waited patiently as Rory paused for a moment.
"This sounds pathetic, but could you send my Mom in?"
"Of course," Lana replied without a trace of judgement. "That is if I can pull her away from Francine. When I left, she was yelling at her about how she's 'still not sorry about what she said about George W. Bush'? And she had just started in on Donald Trump."
"Oh God…" Rory placed her head in her hands and sighed. Though, perhaps she should be grateful. Maybe an anti-Trump tirade from her mother was exactly what she needed to overshadow the little emotional breakdown that she'd displayed.
"It was pretty funny, actually," said Lana. "Maybe that boyfriend of yours should consider giving her a column in The Dying New York Standard."
"That's more Mitchum's territory, but I'll mention it to him," said Rory.
"Okay," Lana said with a light laugh. "I'll send her right in."
As soon as Lana closed the door behind her, Rory took a deep breath. Her panic was gone, and her heart rate had returned to normal, though she still felt a bit of lingering shakiness.
Realizing that she probably looked a mess, she stood up off the couch and walked over to the bathroom area. She noted the basket of toiletries laid out on the marble counter and plucked a make-up remover towel from the open container to clean up the smudged mascara from her eyes in an effort to pull herself together. She popped a complimentary mint in her mouth and started rubbing in a lovely peony scented lotion into her hands.
There really was something to be said about Country Club bathrooms.
TBC...
AN: So, I know a lot of people like to make Francine a sympathetic character. And I get that, I even considered going that way briefly as well. But, I don't know. It served this particular fic better to go this way. Plus, I think it's pretty telling that even after Straub died, there was literally never a mention of her on the show. They didn't even mention her when Christopher and Lorelai were married. So... seems like a signal to me. Thanks again as always!
