Chapter Thirty-Two
Saturday, June 24, 2017
"You have my eyes. You have your mother's name. When you came into the world, you cried, and it broke my heart."
"I think her eyes are already starting to get darker."
Rory was lost in the pool of her little girl's blue eyes. She was wide awake and perfectly content to suck on her fingers in her mother's arms. She'd just finished eating and Rory had managed to get a burp out of her that would have put Barney from the Simpsons to shame.
Now, there was nothing for Rory to do other than hold her, and she didn't think she'd ever been so happy to do anything in her life. She couldn't get enough of the little bundle cuddled up against her chest. She was the most beautiful thing that Rory had ever laid eyes on, and she thought that was a perfectly objective observation - not at all tainted by bias.
It actually hurt to look at her. She was so cute that it was physically painful to witness. It triggered an ache in her chest that felt like someone was driving a stake through her sternum and prying it open with their bare hands.
Right now, her baby girl was loosely wrapped up in a navy blue swaddling blanket covered in pink flamingos and palm fronds, and she had the bright pink turban style hat that her Auntie Honor had bought for her covering her head. All in all, she looked every bit like the little summer baby she was. Rory almost wanted to put some tiny little sunglasses on her. But, then she would have to stop staring into her eyes.
"Well, if she has any sense she'll cut that out right away," Logan teased as he towelled off the hair on his head that was still wet from the shower he had just taken.
"Don't say that!" said Rory, shocked and affronted. "Of course she has sense. She's the smartest baby in the world."
"She's six hours old," Logan replied with a smile. "I'm not sure there's enough data collected to substantially claim that she's the smartest baby in the world."
"She waited until the second Luke decided to hold her to loudly make the very first poop of her life. If innate comedic timing like that isn't a sure sign of her genius, I don't know what is," Rory argued. Logan smiled at the memory in kind of a silent laugh.
"Besides, I like your eyes," Rory continued, gazing down at the baby once more. "She already has your hair, and she's gonna have your eyes too. I just know it. Her blue is different from mine. Grayer."
"Well, she may end up with my eyes," said Logan. "But she looks like you."
"You don't know she looks like me," Rory argued. "She's too little for us to know who she looks like yet."
"If you can know she's going to have my eyes, then I can know she looks like you."
"Did you hear that, Ellie?" Rory asked, tracing her index finger along the palm of her baby's hand. "And Daddy thought you were the one full of nonsense. He's silly."
Rory removed her finger from the baby's grip and used it to place a gentle tap against the tip of her tiny little nose. Eliie's face scrunched up. Her eyes closed and her arms twitched upward toward her face while she let out a tiny coo and a big yawn.
"She's getting sleepy," Rory observed out loud.
Logan walked over to them as he pulled a new shirt over his head. He smiled down at them for a second before reaching forward and taking the baby from Rory's arms. She fussed a tiny bit at the change, but calmed very quickly as she settled into her Daddy's arms.
"Come here, Ellie Bellie," he said, resting her vertically against his chest as he walked her over to the clear bassinet next to the bed. "Let's get you comfy, huh?"
Rory watched as Logan placed the baby down on the comfortable surface and started to swaddle her the way that the nurses had shown him. She watched in rapt attention, finding herself falling in love with him more and more with each passing second. She knew that there were unprecedented levels of oxytocin flowing through her body at the moment, but she always thought they were supposed to make her fall in love with her baby - not her baby daddy. Regardless, she could never remember feeling this much love and affection for the man. Or finding him as sexy as she did right now.
It didn't even matter that he wasn't swaddling her right.
"That's not tight enough," Rory commented from the bed, starting to worry that Ellie would quickly find her way out of her wrappings and start flailing herself awake. Logan looked over her shoulder at her impatiently.
"I went to Yale and Stanford. I think I can handle swaddling a baby without commentary from the peanut gallery."
"Wow…" said Rory, blinking at him. That extraordinary statement had a classic vintage Huntzberger vibe. Arrogant with a delicate elitist aftertaste. At least it helped to reign in the Oxytocin. "I can't tell you how much I wish I would have filmed you saying those words. And I can't wait until she Houdinis her way out of that in ten minutes flat."
"Yeah, I heard it as I was saying it," Logan admitted, having the decency to look at least a little embarrassed.
He finished wrapping the baby up in her little burrito and as soon as she was settled he walked over to the overnight bag that he had packed for himself.
"You know…" he said, reaching inside for something and slipping into his back pocket. Rory wasn't sure what it was. It seemed far too big to be his wallet. "Earlier when you and Ellie were sleeping, I started looking up fun facts about today."
"Oh yeah?" Rory asked with a smile. "Like what?"
"Like…" Logan started as he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. "Did you know she shares a birthday with Mindy Kaling? And that The Lion King came out on this day? And that Henry VIII was crowned King on June 24th in 1509?"
"Fascinating," Rory replied.
"Yep," Logan responded. "Also, she's a Cancer. She was born in the year of the Rooster. And her birthstone…"
Logan trailed off for a second. He leaned forward on the bed and reached behind himself, pulling out whatever it was that he had placed in his pocket just moments before. Now that Rory actually had a good angle, her heart did a small jump at the sight of it. It was a navy blue rectangular box with embossed silver letters spelling out the word 'Mikimoto' across the top.
"Is the pearl."
Rory's eyes flashed from the box being held in front of her to her boyfriend's face.
"Logan…" she breathed.
She probably shouldn't be surprised to be receiving a gift. Logan gave out gifts like a meter cop gave out parking tickets - relentlessly and as if he derived great pleasure in it. Still, Rory hadn't ever thought to expect a gift on a day like today. The baby was gift enough.
"I know it pales in comparison to the gift you just gave me," said Logan. "But I had to do something."
Rory opened the box and took a deep breath as she came upon the sight of a stunning triple strand of pearls. The finest pearls one could purchase. Rory may not know everything about luxury goods. She may not have realized what a Birkin bag was or cared to check what designers she was wearing on a daily basis, but she knew the name Mikimoto. She knew because she'd always so coveted the string of Mikimoto pearls her grandfather had gotten her grandmother for Christmas when she was ten years old, and she'd never forgotten where they came from.
Rory loved pearls. There was something so elegant about them. Timeless. They were simple but beautiful. Understated. They reminded her of Audrey Hepburn or Jackie Kenedy. They were casual and formal at the same time. Could be worn for business or pleasure. And now she had a full set of her own.
The drop pearl necklace that Luke had given her for her twenty-first birthday was one of her favorite pieces of jewelry to this day, and not only because of the stone. Receiving that gift from him knowing that it had been something of his mothers meant so much to her. Every time she wore it, she was reminded of the fact that Luke thought of her as a daughter. And now she had these - a very different yet still special set of pearls. Because, every time she wore these she would think about her own daughter.
"Logan, they're beautiful," she said, running her fingers along the strands. "But they're Ellie's birthstone. Shouldn't these be for her?"
"Well…" said Logan. "I guess so. If you want. But… if that's the case then you can just be their custodian for a while."
"Custodian?" Rory asked with a smile.
"Yeah…" he answered. "They're yours until she's old enough to get them. Like at her graduation or her wedding or… whenever you deem fit I guess."
"I like that idea," Rory said, looking on the piece of jewelry one more time before turning her attention back to Logan and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you."
"Thank you," Logan said. "You've made me the happiest man in the world."
The damn oxytocin was back. And this time it didn't seem like Logan was going to stop the flow of it by plugging his foot in his mouth. Rory turned to him again and placed a caressing hand on his cheek. She kissed him, this time lingering a bit longer until the sound of a fussy baby interrupted them.
Rory's eyes were on Ellie in a flash, and as she looked into the bassinet just a few feet away, she felt a delightful burst of vindication.
"See?" she said, gesturing to the little girl who had wriggled her arm free of the blanket wrapped around her. "Houdini."
"My God. That Logan has taste…"
It wasn't the first time Emily Gilmore had uttered those words out loud, and it definitely wasn't the first time she'd thought them. She'd thought them more times than she could count throughout the period of time he and Rory had been together in college. The Birkin Bag. The earrings he'd given her for her 21st birthday. The bracelet he'd given her for Valentine's Day. Sometimes she didn't think it was fair that a girl in her early twenties should be blessed with so many gorgeous accessories, and she wasn't sure how any man that young could be so talented at choosing them. But, then Mitchum had always had taste as well. It was wasted on his wife, but he had taste nonetheless.
"I always told her to find a man who could pick out her jewelry," she said, running her hands along the pearls one more time before closing the box and setting them back down on the table by the bed. "I'm glad she listened to me."
"Right, Mom," said Lorelai from across the room as she paced around with her granddaughter happily resting in her arms. "I'm sure that was the primary factor in Rory's decision to jump into bed with him."
Emily shot her daughter an unamused look. She didn't understand her constant need to be as rude and lewd as possible. She didn't know where it came from or what she had done as a mother to make her think that those kind of comments were ever entertaining or appropriate.
"Honestly, Lorelai," she sniped. "The things you say sometimes…"
"Oh come on, Mom," Lorelai replied with a laugh. "He's in the bathroom with her as we speak making sure she stays upright in the shower, and she just gave birth to his baby. I think it's time you get comfortable with the fact that they've had sex."
Emily rolled her eyes. Her daughter truly thought that she was some kind of prude - a person who was wholly uncomfortable with and scandalized by the intimate realities of life. It was as if she believed that she'd been conceived in a test tube or delivered by the stork. Emily wasn't uncomfortable with the idea of sex. She was just of the opinion that it was a private and personal subject that wasn't meant to be discussed in public - especially when it involved one's family. It was inappropriate.
"I'm perfectly aware that Rory and Logan had been intimate, Lorelai," she responded with a sigh. If the baby lying in her daughter's arms wasn't enough evidence, there was also the memory of the rude awakening she'd had when Rory lived with them, or the fact that just months ago she'd borne uncomfortable witness to the aftermath of it. "I simply don't think it's appropriate for us to be discussing your daughter's sex life. It's unseemly."
"What's unseemly is you using the word 'intimate,'" Lorelai said with an exaggerated grimace on her face. "And you didn't have a problem discussing it when you and Dad were plotting ways to get her to stop and brainstorming how to keep the pool house inaccessible for as long as humanly possible."
"She was a child, Lorelai," said Emily.
"She was twenty-one."
"Yes," Emily replied, firmly. "Twenty-one. A baby. She's a grown woman now, for goodness sake. It's none of my business."
There were quite a few things that Emily wasn't thrilled about when it came to the more intimate elements of her granddaughter's relationship with her boyfriend. Perhaps she was old fashioned, but she would have much preferred for Rory to be settled and married before she started that kind of relationship with a man. She wasn't thrilled with her sneaking around in her own home behind her back. She wasn't thrilled when Rory had moved in with the boy without at least an engagement ring on her finger - something her own mother had always said about cows and milk had jumped to mind. And she definitely wasn't thrilled about the circumstances in which the baby lying next to her was conceived. Yet, even with all of those things in mind, she had a hard time holding on to any negative feelings at the moment.
"Besides…" she said, walking closer to Lorelai to gaze down at the sleeping bundle in her arms. She spread out her fingers across the little girl's tummy lightly and smiled. "I think this little angel makes all of that worth it, don't you?"
"Yeah…" Lorelai agreed, bouncing the girl ever so slightly. "She does. Doesn't she?"
"I know you're not a fan of Logan, but you have to admit he gave you a beautiful granddaughter."
Emily watched as an afforonted look came over her daughter's face. She looked offended at the insinuation, but the way that she was rendered a little bit speechless gave her away. She was fishing - fishing for a way to deny and defend herself.
"I'm not…not a fan of Logan…" she eventually said.
Emily knew her daughter too well. She raised a single eyebrow at her in response.
"I'm not!" Lorelai insisted. "I'll have you know Logan and I have been getting along very well, thank you very much. You were at Chris' party. You saw. We were joking around and... going off about Francine together and... he laughed at my joke about the cocktail shrimp. It was a fun time."
"Just because you've been getting along with him and you share a mutual distaste for Francine Hayden doesn't mean you like him, Lorelai," said Emily. "I can get along with Constance Bedderton, it doesn't mean I don't hope she drives off a cliff every time we part ways."
"Well, I can sincerely say that I don't hope Logan drives off any cliffs any time soon, okay?" Lorelai responded.
She would hope so. As much as Lorelai might resent the young man, she didn't think she would want her daughter or her granddaughter to have to go through life without him at this point.
"But you're still uncomfortable with him," Emily probed. "There's no sense in denying it."
Lorelai went quiet. She wasn't searching for a defense the way that she had been before. In fact, she looked far more resigned this time around. There really was no use arguing with her about it. They both knew how Lorelai felt. As much as she liked to pretend that she was a woman of mystery, there were things about her daughter that were blatantly obvious to anyone that knew her, and she had never been particularly talented at hiding her true feelings.
"It's hard for me, okay?" Lorelai asked. "I know it's not right. And it's not fair. And I want to be a better person. But it's hard for me."
"What on Earth is so dreadfully hard for you Lorelai?"
She couldn't understand. She'd never been able to understand Lorelai's irrational distaste for the boy. She could understand her problem with his parents. She could even understand her problem with some of his behavior in the early days. But so much time had passed since then.
Logan had no more control over his parents than Lorelai had control over Emily herself, and the amount of maturing Logan had done in the mere three years that he and Rory were together was extraordinary. Add ten more onto that and he bore almost no resemblance to the trouble making youth he'd once been. He clearly still made mistakes. The context of his relationship with Rory up until recently was proof of that. He wasn't perfect. But no one was. Emily wasn't perfect. And Lorelai certainly wasn't perfect.
Rory was happy. Emily wasn't around as much as she used to be, but it was still abundantly clear that Rory was happy. It was the happiest Emily had seen the girl since… well since her final year at Yale. There was clearly a common denominator there, but for some reason it seemed that Lorelai refused to see it.
She was so stubborn. She resented the world she had been raised in so much that she would ignore her daughter's happiness simply because the man she was with happened to be a part of it. It was as if nothing else mattered. He came from their world, so Lorelai hated him. She ripped her daughter out of that environment, so she couldn't stand to see Rory even tolerate it for a moment. It was irrational and emotional, but even worse was the fact that it was hypocritical.
Lorelai didn't seem to have a problem making exceptions for herself. She had no problem making an exception for Jason. She had no problem dating men she'd met at auctions that Emily had asked her to attend. She had no problem eventually marrying Christopher when he had already plunged back into the waters of Hartford society after his father's death. She had no problem shopping at Bergdorfs when her income started allowing it. She had no problem wearing the Marc Jacobs bag sitting on the chair by the window. And she had no problem accepting her father's inheritance to expand her business.
Lorelai only had a problem when Rory was involved. She couldn't grant her daughter the same courtesy that she gave herself. Lorelai had the ability to understand when it was appropriate to suspend her judgement and make exceptions for people whose lifestyles she usually didn't agree with. She had the ability to see whether or not they were genuinely good people at heart. But Rory did not.
At this point she almost wished she hadn't brought it up. She had a feeling that she knew what her daughter was going to say, and the last thing she wanted was to start a fight in the middle of Rory's postnatal hospital room. They'd had this conversation before - several times - and it always devolved into a fight.
"I just…" Lorelai trailed off and took a deep breath.
Yet, in the moments where Emily had expected her to start going off about Logan's privilege and about all the ways in which she didn't trust him or his family, she was actually met with silence. A look of sadness passed over her face, and in a clear effort to hide her emotions, she turned her head to look out the window rather than in Emily's eyes.
Perhaps this conversation wasn't going to go the way she had assumed it would.
"I just feel like I'm losing her…"
Yes. That hadn't been what Emily suspected at all.
"Everytime he comes into her life, it's like I'm losing her."
"Lorelai," Emily said with a sigh. "Rory isn't going to stop talking to you again just because - "
"I'm not even talking about that," Lorelai interrupted, shaking her head. The baby started to fuss a little bit, and she looked down at the little girl with a sad smile before starting to sooth her with her pinky finger. "It's just… When he's around, it's like she doesn't need me anymore. It was like that then, and it's like that now."
Emily's heart actually broke a little bit at those words. In another context, she might have accused her of being ridiculous, or of being selfish. And perhaps it was a bit selfish of her daughter to feel that way. However, it was a particular kind of selfish that Emily understood very well, one she'd experienced herself. Lorelai was experiencing it now, and no doubt Rory would experience it in due time. It was a kind of ache that only a mother could feel.
"You're not losing her, Lorelai," Emily said, softly. "You're standing in her hospital room holding your new grandbaby. Just because things are changing it doesn't mean that it's for the worse. Sometimes it's for the better."
Lorelai took a deep breath and quickly wiped at the corner of her eyes with her thumb.
"I want her to be happy," she said, almost pleading for Emily to believe her. But, the pleading was unnecessary. Emily knew exactly how she felt. "I am happy that she's happy."
"I know you are."
A peaceful silence settled between them for a moment. Lorelai composed herself as she continued to walk around the room with the baby, bouncing her up and down and looking at her face with a sense of pride and love that was palpable to anyone who could witness it. The room remained quiet for a couple minutes, both of them lost in their thoughts until the sound of a small rapping on the door interrupted them.
When Emily looked up at the new visitor standing in the doorway, her heart jumped a beat. She hadn't laid eyes on the man in over a decade, and his choice of timing left a lot to be desired. What would have been a tense moment regardless of the circumstances was now feeling particularly raw, and she wasn't sure how to best navigate the pile of eggshells that had suddenly been dropped at their feet.
"Mitchum," she greeted, forcing a warm smile on her face. She stood up and walked over to him, sliding her hands into his and greeting him in the European style. "My goodness it's been a long time."
"Too long, Emily. It's good to see you," the man agreed. "I hope I'm not intruding on anything."
"Oh, don't be silly," Emily insisted. "Of course you're not. Come in. Come in. Come meet your granddaughter."
Lorelai hadn't said a word in greeting, though perhaps that was for the best. Emily did notice, however, that as soon as the man had walked into the room her hold on the baby in her arms had gotten tighter. Her lips were pursed and her pacing had stopped. She was staring at the man, and he was looking back at her, the tension palpable between them. Eventually his eyes dropped to the baby, and Emily realized that she was going to have to be the referee in this situation.
"Mitchum, this is my daughter, Lorelai."
"It's nice to meet - "
"We've met," Lorelai interrupted, sharply. The standoff between the two of them continued, and in a moment unlike Emily had ever seen before, she saw Mitchum actually appear chagrined.
Until this moment, she had no idea that Lorelai and Mitchum had ever crossed paths. She knew, of course, that Lorelai had a less than friendly opinion of the man. But, as far as she was aware they had never been in the same room together. At the moment it was clear that wasn't the case, and judging by the look on Mitchum's face the interaction had obviously not gone well.
"Right," he replied, clearing his throat. "Of course. How could I forget?"
A tense silence followed. Mitchum's eyes stayed focused on the baby, but Lorelai didn't budge, Her grip didn't loosen. It was almost as if she was physically repelled at the idea of handing the child over to the man.
"Where's Logan?" Mitchum asked, cutting through the tension with a tone that sounded as if he was merely asking about the weather. Lorelai didn't answer, so Emily jumped.
"He's just helping Rory get cleaned up," she answered. "Her legs are still a bit weak. The epidural."
"Sure," Mitchum answered with a nod. "I guess that explains why he didn't answer my texts."
"Yeah, cause we all know how much you hate that…" Lorelai commented.
Another tense silence followed. Emily had to admit she was impressed. She'd seen many a very powerful man cower under Mitchum's intense presence, but her daughter didn't even flinch. There was certainly a story there. She might not know the context of Lorelai's quip, but she was socially adept enough to recognize that there was some context there. The only problem was that whatever context existed was a decade old at the very least, and the man was here to see his newly born granddaughter. It didn't seem like there was a relevant reason to deny him the opportunity.
The bathroom door opened, and a little bit of pressure in the air around them was relieved as Rory and Logan stepped back into the room. Rory was looking refreshed, dressed in a baggy button down pajama set. Her hair was still wet from her shower and her skin looked slightly pink. Logan was helping her walk, holding on to her elbow lightly and pressing his other hand into the small of her back. The two of them paused for a moment when they saw Mitchum standing in the room, but Rory quickly started making her way over to the bed again, clearly still a bit unstable on her feet.
"Dad. Hey," Logan said, his attention suddenly torn between Rory and his father. "I thought you were going to text me before - "'
"I did," Mitchum replied, cocking his head toward the couch where Logan's phone was lying on top of some blankets.
"Right," said Logan. "Sorry. I was…"
"It's alright," Mitchum answered with a shrug just as Rory winced while she climbed into the hospital bed. "How are you feeling, Rory?"
"I'm okay," Rory answered. "Sore. Tired."
"That's to be expected, I would think," Mitchum replied.
An awkward silence fell over the group gathered in the hospital room. The tension that existed between Lorelai and Mitchum hadn't gone away, and it seemed like the kids were picking up on it. Nevertheless, Logan jumped into action and started walking over to Lorelai.
"Right. Well… um...Dad..." he said as he moved across the room. He reached his hands out for his child and Lorelai handed her over to him. However, the mournful look on her face made it clear that she wasn't very happy about it. "This is Lorelai Grace Huntzberger. Ellie for short."
As Mitchum looked down at the face of his granddaughter, Emily watched a genuine smile break out on his face.
"Huntzberger, huh?" he asked.
His happiness at that turn of events was abundantly clear. Lorelai's happiness, however, was non-existent. Realizing that it might be time to run some interference, she walked over to her daughter and placed a hand on her back.
"Lorelai…" she said, lightly pushing her through the door. "Why don't we go get some coffee while these two get acquainted?"
Rory's eyes followed her mother and her grandmother as they walked out of the hospital room. Her mother's displeasure was radiating off of her in waves, and she had to admit that she was feeling pretty grateful for her grandmother's intervention.
She knew that sharing a granddaughter with Mithcum and Shira Huntzberger was likely forever going to be a problem that her mother would wrestle with. She had put a great deal of effort into repairing her relationship with Logan recently, and it truly did seem like they were getting closer and closer to normal every day. But, Rory didn't think there would ever be a time when her mother would enjoy being in the same room as his parents. With time she might learn to be more civil, and she would grin and bear them for the sake of Ellie, but they were never going to be friends. There was simply too much bad blood there.
What Shira had said to her at that dinner all those years ago and Mitchum's criticism of her had forever labeled them as enemies in her mind. And when she had met Mitchum for the first time, it hadn't exactly quelled her already well-established hateful opinion of the man. That was a rare point of time when she and Logan were actually on good terms, and Lorelai was being strangely defensive of him during the entire period of time they were packing up to leave. The words 'verbally abusive' and 'blond Mussolini' had been thrown around quite a bit.
At the time, there wasn't much to argue with. Logan may have been in the wrong, and it wasn't exactly like she was happy with him. She'd actually been quite upset with him over the fact that he'd neglected to tell her anything about his father's plans to send him to London when he's apparently known for months. However, the way Mitchum had handled that day was shocking to say the least. Rory had always known that they had a strained relationship. She knew that they fought. Often. After all, she was the one he would come home to after those fights had taken place. She didn't, however, realize that their fights manifested themselves in that specific way.
Maybe she was naive to not have realized. Maybe that level of screaming and cursing was normal in other families. Maybe it's what happened when too much testosterone was involved. But, she had actually been frightened by the scene. A small part of her had expected someone to throw a punch.
Yet, even with all of that in mind, it didn't have anything to do with what was going on now. They had spent years of work repairing their relationship. They worked together every single day. Their sheer proximity to each other actually made them far closer than other fathers and sons.
And Mitchum was a good grandfather to the boys.
"Do you want to hold her?" Rory asked, surprising the older man.
"Oh…I…"
Mitchum looked over at her and then back down at the baby. Something in his eyes softened for a moment. Rory had initially thought he would pass on the offer, but after a couple of seconds it looked like he was coming around to the idea.
"Yeah, I'd like that…" he said, reaching forward to take the little girl out of Logan's arms.
"Watch her head," Logan said in a tone of concern as he passed her over to him gingerly. Mitchum rolled his eyes.
"Do you have any significant brain damage that you're aware of?" he asked, dryly.
"No…" Logan answered with a sigh.
"Then I think you can rest easy with the knowledge that I'm perfectly capable of holding a baby. Thank you," he said. "I know you like to imagine that your mother gave birth to you and I never saw you again until you were old enough to speak in full sentences, but I can assure you that wasn't the case."
"I never said that was the case…" Logan replied with a shrug.
Rory bit her lip to hide an amused smile. The truth was that Logan had said that was the case. Many times. She was well aware it was hyperbole, but he still used that imagery as a way to describe his relationship with his father constantly.
"Mmhm," Mitchum hummed in response, communicating that he didn't believe Logan's denial while still entirely distracted by the baby.
It was actually sweet to watch. Rory had never seen Mitchum Huntzberger look so teddy bear-like in her life. He was a domineering man, one that usually inspired fear and intimidation. He was a total Krampus. But, at this moment he bore a much larger resemblance to Santa Claus.
"Yeah…" he said, smiling down at Ellie. "You're gonna have your mean old grandpa wrapped around your little finger aren't you?"
Ellie chose that moment to wriggle a bit in his arms. She let out a tiny coo and kicked her legs. Her left hand twitched up closer to her face, and Mitchum offered her an index finger to grab onto.
"Where's mom?" Logan asked.
Apparently that question was enough to break Mitchum out of his trance.
"Oh… she's -"
"What do you think of the light? Is it terrible? It's these damn fluorescents. Sadly, I'm not sure there's much we can do about it."
The unmistakable voice of Shira Huntzberger pierced down the hall from outside of Rory's hospital room. Her brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why the woman was talking about hospital lighting and just who exactly she was talking to. Last Logan told her Honor wouldn't be here for a couple more hours.
Logan looked just as confused as she was, but Mitchum seemed to know exactly what was going on. He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry…" he said softly just as his wife barreled into the room.
She wasn't alone. Trailing right behind her was a crew of people. To her right, a woman with a camera strapped to her body stepped into the room alongside her. Two more people dressed in black and carrying cases full of… something were waiting out in the hallway to be invited in.
"I can assure you it won't be a problem, Mrs. Huntzberger," the woman assured as she looked around the room at the lights on the ceiling and the sun shining through the window. "We're very used to dealing with less than ideal light in hospital rooms."
"Mom…" Logan started, crossing his arms over his chest. However, Shira wasn't paying much attention to him.
"Oh that's such a relief," Shira replied, gently touching the arm of the woman in a friendly gesture. Once the exchange was over, she started looking around the room, searching. And when her eyes landed on the little bundle currently cradled in her husband's arms her face lit up.
"Oh! There she is!" she cried, reaching forward on autopilot and plucking the baby girl from her grandfather's hold without so much as a mother may I. Mitchum merely sighed in resignation and sat down on the couch where Logan had spent the night sleeping.
"Mom…" Logan attempted again without success.
"Oh my goodness," said Shira as she cradled the sleeping baby close to her chest. "Hello, sweet girl. I'm so happy to finally meet you."
She looked down at the little girl with a radiant smile and gently bounced her as she paced around the room a bit. Rory would almost be touched by the woman's clear happiness if it weren't for the fact that she had yet to receive an explanation as to who these people were and why they had been invited into her hospital room and, more to the point, her baby's first day of life.
"Isn't she just the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" she asked, staring lovingly down at Ellie's face. When she didn't receive an answer to the question that everyone gathered in the room clearly believed to be rhetorical, she looked up from her granddaughter and sent her mystery companion a glare.
"Oh, yes!" the woman replied, jumping into action immediately. "She's stunning. And I've seen a lot of babies."
"She is. She's stunning," Shira agreed, taking the compliment as if it had been genuine and not at all coerced out of the woman next to her. Rory happened to agree that she was stunning, though. So, she certainly didn't have a problem with people pointing it out, pressured or not.
"Logan…" Shira continued, looking at her son with pride. "She's absolutely stunning."
"She is," Logan agreed. "But, you know… Rory did all the work."
"Oh…" Shira said in response, her blissful demeanor dropping for a moment. Then, for the first time since walking into the room, she turned to look upon Rory sitting up in the hospital bed. Rory gave her a tight lipped smile and raised her hand in a little wave, but Shira's face just went cold again. "Well… sure."
Ironically, the only response that Rory could muster at Shira's blatant dismissal at her part in the birth of her granddaughter was a small laugh. Logan was looking over at her in horror at his mother's behavior, but strangely, Rory didn't feel like she needed his apology.
There had been something of a switch in her demeanor when it came to her relationship with Shira over the past couple it was because she was older and more comfortable in her own skin, so she didn't feel the same need she'd had at twenty for everyone she came across to like her. However, more likely, it was the fact that she was no longer threatened by the woman.
When she was a twenty year old girl, Shira's disapproval had hit her hard. Her own insecurities had a lot to do with it. But, there was also the fact that Rory didn't know exactly what to expect from Logan. Their relationship was so new at that point, and she didn't know him well enough to know how he would react to his parents disapproval.
Now, she knew that it wasn't a factor in his commitment to her at all. It's not like he had broken up with her after the fact. They'd stayed together for years. He'd even asked her to marry him, knowing it would likely send his mother into an early grave. They'd just bought a house together. She'd just given birth to his child. She was pretty confident at this point that Shira's disapproval wasn't going to send Logan running for the hills. Shira could hate her until hell froze over, but at the end of the day Logan would still come home to her.
It was oddly freeing. And it allowed for Rory to actually find this moment somewhat amusing rather than upsetting.
"Mom, who are all these people?" Logan finally asked. There was an edge in his voice, implying that he wasn't quite as amused as Rory was. "What is going on?"
"They're photographers," Shira answered, looking at him like he'd lost all sense. "They're here for her 48 hour photos. Is that not obvious? She has a camera."
With a wave of her hand, the other two people - assistants - came rushing into the room with all of their gear. Logan sighed and ran a hand over his face as they started pulling baskets, props, baby clothing, and blankets out of the cases and setting them up over by the window.
"What do you want us to do, Logan? Announce the birth of your first child with that camera phone picture you sent us last night? She needs photographs. And, trust me, after you leave here the last thing you're going to want to worry about is taking her out to a photo studio."
"Mom, the hospital has photographers."
The look that fell over Shira's face at Logan's comment rivaled the look her grandmother gave her mom when she'd announced that she wanted to serve hot dogs and Pop Tarts at her wedding. Her chin tilted downward. Her nostrils flared in disgust. Her mouth opened in a grimace.
"Don't be absurd," Shira hissed, slowly. "You've clearly not gotten any sleep. Why don't you two get some rest while we get this done?"
At that moment, the baby in Shira's arms started to fuss. Her grandmother tried to sooth her to no avail, and by that point Rory had already sat up straight and reached her arms out for her baby. She'd reached before she was even conscious of the fact that she was moving.
"She's probably hungry," Rory explained. Ellie hadn't been around nearly long enough for her to already recognize the difference in her cries, but it had been about two and half hours since the last time she fed her, and her baby girl had already strongly demonstrated that she'd inherited the Gilmore appetite. "She hasn't eaten in a while."
"And that's my cue to get some coffee," Mitchum said, standing up and looking grateful for the opportunity to get out of the room.
As he left, Shira seemed to reluctantly accept the fact that the particular issue she was facing required help from her granddaughter's mother, and she handed the baby over to Rory with a sigh at the loss.
"Fine," she said. "I suppose we can give you some privacy and use this time to pick out some outfits."
"Actually," the photographer chimed. "If it's okay with you, Mrs. Huntzberger, I would love to stay behind and take this opportunity to get in some private shots with Mommy and baby. If that's okay with her, of course."
"Oh. I'm sure that won't be necce - "
"I would love that," Rory cut in, smiling at the photographer. "Thank you so much for thinking of this, Shira. This is a really lovely surprise."
When Rory looked over at her not quite mother-in-law, she noticed that Shira's face was almost twitching as she attempted to keep the smile plastered on and not let it succumb to the seething irritation she was no doubt feeling. She was well aware that she had essentially just gotten kicked out of her own photoshoot, and that Rory was using this moment to covertly take over.
Logan was quick to catch on to exactly what Rory was doing, and he smiled at his mother.
"Yeah. Thanks, Mom," Logan added. "Why don't you go grab some coffee with Dad, and I'll text you when we're finished. I know you're probably tired from the drive."
Shira's head bobbled and her smile grew wider as she attempted to keep her composure.
"Of course," she said, tearing her gaze away from Rory who had already started unbuttoning her top. She walked over to Logan, placed her hand on his forearm, and tilted her head upward to kiss him on the cheek. "She is beautiful, dear. Congratulations."
Logan's demeanor softened a little bit at the sincere compliment from his mother, and he uttered another thanks as she slipped out of the room and down the hallway. As soon as Shira was out of earshot, Rory let out a massive sigh of relief, and Ellie's cries ceased as she latched on to Rory's breast.
"Thank you," she said to the photographer.
At this point, she was strongly suspecting that the professional knew exactly what the dynamic she had just walked into was, and Rory was beginning to consider her an ally. A friend even. That perhaps explained why Rory apparently had no problem breastfeeding in front of her. Though, it might also be due to the sleep deprivation and the fact that dozens of other strangers had already been all up in her business more times than she could count in the last twenty-four hours, so one more didn't really seem all that worse.
"It's no problem," the woman replied with a smile and a light laugh. "I was getting a vibe."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about… her," Logan replied, scratching at the hairs on the back of his neck.
"Believe it or not, I've actually dealt with much worse. At least she pretends to be nice. A lot of people can't even manage that these days," the photographer said with a wave of her hand. "I'm Jessie, by the way. These are my assistants Raimy and Paul. And who do we have here?"
"This is Ellie," Rory answered, smiling down at the nursing baby. There was something about saying her name out loud to other people that she didn't think she would ever tire of. She had a brand new appreciation for the meme of that otter holding her baby up to the camera with the caption 'I made dis.' Rory had felt like that every single second since the moment she'd been born.
"She's a sweetheart."
"Thank you," said Logan.
"So I've been doing infant photoshoots for a very long time, and I'm very used to working with the itty bitty ones," the photographer explained. "That being said we don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with."
"I don't want anything too posed," said Rory. "And I have outfits in my bag."
The photographer uttered an understanding and started setting up equipment. She also pulled a book out of her camera bag and asked Rory to flip through it and point out the pictures that she liked in order to get a feel for what she wanted and what kind of aesthetic she liked.
Logan walked over to peek over her shoulder at the portfolio that was resting on her legs, and as soon as he got close enough to her he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"I gotta say, Ace," he started. "That was some high quality Shira maneuvering you just pulled off there."
"I thought so," Rory said with a smile as she used her free hand to flip the pages in the photo book.
"I'm impressed."
Rory started shaking her head, but the smile on her face remained.
"You always forget that I have been managing Emily Gilmore's insanity for my entire life," she said. "Your mother doesn't scare me."
Logan didn't respond right away. He went strangely quiet, and Rory tore her eyes away from the black and white photograph of a pair of baby's feet to look at his face. He was smiling contentedly at her.
"I'm glad."
It had been just under twelve hours, and Logan was already quite aware that quiet moments such as the one he was currently in were about to become extremely coveted.
It had been a long day.
Neither one of them had gotten much sleep since the moment Rory's water had broken the night before. They'd each been able to doze off here and there while the baby was sleeping, but ultimately, the time had added up to nothing more than a couple of cat naps. When the baby wasn't crying to be fed or changed, they were dealing with other people. Lorelai, Luke, and Emily. His parents. Chris, Lana, and Gigi. Honor and Josh. The doctors. The nurses. And even when they were alone, both he and Rory were finding that the tiniest sound out of their baby girl woke them up like a wrecking ball crashing through the wall of their room.
It's not like he wasn't expecting this. He knew that this was going to happen, and he knew that it wasn't about to get any better any time soon. But he still thought that he was well within his rights to think about how exhausted he was.
Rory was fast asleep. The last nap that she'd taken had been cut short by the arrival of her father, and it went without saying that if there was one person in this room that was more exhausted than Logan, it was her. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what Rory had just done. There weren't really any words he could think of to describe how incredible it was.
He was perfectly happy to let her sleep. In fact, at this point he'd made it his mission to make sure she slept. He'd turned off the lights in the room and closed the blinds to keep the sun out. He'd turned the volume down on the television to nothing more than an unintelligible whisper, needing to rely on the closed captioning to hear a word that anyone was saying. And he was keeping a close eye on Ellie.
He loved to watch her sleep. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since he laid eyes on her for the first time, and watching her sleep was already becoming his favorite thing to do. She was just so perfect. He couldn't stop staring at her. He couldn't stop staring at her long eyelashes. Her red little cheeks. Her little fingernails.
Her fingernails.
He was in awe of her tiny little fingernails.
He was in awe of her. Everything about her. And he didn't think it would ever stop being in awe of her.
Logan had never been more in love with anything in his life.
As he gazed down at her for what was probably the millionth time that day, he noticed her start to stir. Soft little mewls were starting to escape from her lips, and Logan jumped into action. He picked her up and started to sooth her right away, not wanting to wait a second longer for fear that her cries might escalate and wake Rory up.
"Hey…" he whispered. "What's wrong Elllie Bellie? You're not hungry are you?"
Rory had fed her about an hour ago, so he didn't think she was wanting food quite yet. The baby let out a little grunt in response, but unfortunately Logan was still earning the little signs and signals of her very specific language. But, her lips weren't puckering and she wasn't rooting around for anything, so he figured that probably wasn't the issue.
"You probably need to be changed, huh?"
The squeak she gave after he asked the question almost seemed like a response in the affirmative. Logan placed her back down and started to unwrap her from the tight swaddle that Rory had put her in before she fell asleep. As soon as her limbs were free, she started kicking and and moving her arms around, her fists clenched in the air.
"You better watch who you throw those punches around. You could end up starting a fight."
Ellie was already entirely unamused by her father's sense of humor. Her face scrunched up and she let out another mewling cry. His talking to her was taking up time that could be used to get her dryer faster, and she didn't appreciate it. If one thing had been made very clear today, it was that his daughter did not like to be wet. Bathtime had been a journey.
Logan continued on with his task, giving a massive sigh of relief at the fact that it was only a wet diaper. No one had adequately warned him of the tarry horrors he would see in there today, and upon his first experience with it he had been genuinely terrified that there was something wrong. The nurses had assured him that it was totally normal, but he didn't think there was anything normal about it.
"I know you're a baby, so you think that the only reason I exist is to give you bottles and wipe your butt," he whispered to her. "But if you'd met me ten years ago, you'd be really shocked right now. I'll tell you what."
Ellie started to settle a bit after she was freshly changed. Her eyes were wide open and her head was moving back and forth as she looked around the room. Logan just watched her for a second, hypnotized, before he picked her up and settled her against his chest.
"I never really thought I'd do the whole daddy thing, you know?" he said, walking her over to the couch where he had been resting. He sat down slowly, holding her out in front of himself in a face to face hold with his elbow on his knees and his hands supporting her head.
"Or well…" he continued. "I guess I thought I'd eventually have kids, but where I come from that doesn't really equate to being a daddy."
The baby puckered her lips together and a tiny bit of drool started to little out of the corner of her mouth. Her feet were tapping against his torso as he held her and she was still busy waving her arms around.
"I gotta admit, I don't really know what I'm doing here," he said. "I know Grandpa said earlier that he was around when I was a baby, but he's got a pretty selective memory sometimes. This whole 24/7 dad thing… that's a new concept to me."
Logan took a deep breath.
"I may not know what I'm doing, but I know that I love you," he said. "I love you so much. I love you even more than I love Mommy, and that's a lot. Believe me. But don't tell her that because between you and me, she can get pretty jealous sometimes even though she doesn't like to admit it."
A gentle coo rose from Ellie's throat, almost like an agreement to keep their conversation secret. Logan smiled.
"But I bet she feels the same," he said. "She'd have to be pretty crazy not to."
Logan had never felt a love like this in his entire life. He loved his sister. He loved his friends. He'd fallen in love with Rory so hard in college that'd thought nothing could ever compare to how he felt for her. And now he realized how unbelievably wrong he was.
He'd always heard people say that. He'd heard the claims that the love you feel for your children was immeasurable and unlike anything you could imagine, but he'd never really taken them seriously. Logan had experienced love before. He thought he had some understanding of what it would be like. But, he was wrong.
He couldn't help but wonder if his parents had ever felt this way about him, but the more he thought about that the more he started to walk down a path he didn't want to tread. If his parents loved him with a fraction of what he felt for Ellie, he didn't understand how his childhood could have been so wrought with trauma.
"I didn't even know you existed until three months ago, and I already love you more than anything I've ever loved. Isn't that funny?" he continued.
Three months. It had been a while since he'd really sat down and thought about what had happened - or rather what had almost happened. He wasn't angry anymore. He'd worked through his anger. He wasn't feeling upset or mad or resentful at the moment. Right now he actually felt a strange kind of… fear. His mind was full of the anxieties about 'what-ifs' and alternate universes and all the tiny tiny things that had to have happened to lead him to holding his little girl in his arms.
If the smallest thing had gone differently, he'd be married right now. He'd be sitting in his London apartment with his French wife while Rory lay in the hospital bed across from him alone.
"I'm so happy I found out about you," Logan whispered. His voice was starting to quiver a little bit with emotion. "You saved my life."
As he blinked, a small drop of moisture fell from his eyes and landed on Ellie's bare tummy. Apparently, even the slightest bit of moisture was enough to put the girl on edge, because as soon as the tear touched her skin her face squished in displeasure and a cry sounded from the back of her throat. Logan actually laughed a little bit as he used the corner of her blanket to wipe away the tear drop and started to apologize for his indiscretion.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said. "I just get sad to think about it. But I promise I won't get sad anymore. We don't have to think about it because it didn't happen."
It was probably easier said than done, and if his therapist in California was here she would probably tell him that he didn't think or talk about it enough. She would probably press him more on the talk issue, however.
"Can I tell you another secret? One that we can never tell anyone, especially Mommy cause it might make her mad?" he asked, receiving another coo in response from Ellie.
He took another deep breath and ran his hand over the fine blonde baby hairs on her head. Her face pressed into his palm and he smiled, his heart full. He started thinking again about everything that had led to this moment. The impromptu trip he'd decided to take to Connecticut in October. The Inn they had stumbled upon. The fact that he'd taken a long trip home over Easter. And then the other thing. The event that had set all of it in motion.
"I'm really glad your grandma decided to go up and be rude to your mommy that day."
TBC…
AN: Okaaaaaaay so….How y'all doin? Y'all okay? I planned to get this chapter done about two days ago but uuuuuuuhh some shit happened y'all. I lost my flow for a hot sec. I got a little distracted. Sorry about that… Anyway….
It's a long chapter. A lot to get through. But, also there is still a lot more. I am aware that we didn't get a special moment with every single important character and Ellie in this chapter. It would have just been impossible to fit everyone in without it seeming like some weird cafeteria line of contrived moments. We will see Luke and Honor have their bonding time with the baby in due time, as well Christopher etc.
I know a lot of people find the idea of push presents to be a little extra and groan worthy. And I get it. I honestly don't even have an opinion of them. But I DO have opinions about Logan Huntzberger. And, I think that if you think he isn't the kind of person who would give a push present then you are just plain wrong. Lol.
And Shira. Oh Shira. Lol. She means well... Or she at least means well when it comes to Logan and Ellie. But, I don't think she and Rory are ever gonna be having sleepovers and braiding each other's hair. At least Rory is on her way to accepting it though.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter featuring the newest member of the Huntzberger/Gilmore family! :)
