Lorelai's text that had arrived in the morning, had remained unopened on Rory's phone. She hadn't wanted to see what she had to say. Rory knew her mother well enough to know what it probably said. An apology was unlikely or if it did contain one it was about confronting her, not for speaking out about how she felt or about how she felt.
Lorelai had driven back to Stars Hollow just after sending that text. She realized Rory probably didn't want to see her, but she needed to be close by in case she did. Now she sat in front of her tv flipping through the channels aimlessly. She had never been a huge fan of Logan and the circumstances surrounding him - his parents and status, his somewhat flexible moral standards concerning relationships and the cloud of intrigue following him that subjected him and everyone around him to becoming part of public interest. She'd witnessed Rory falling in love with him the first time around, pining after him, crying on the bathroom floor because of him, and all the ups and downs that followed, including the moment Rory had realized she had lost him to Odette. She'd also registred the look on Rory's face when she had began to hope there could again be something to look forward to with him. Logan had tried to get to Lorelai's good graces by interacting with her unlike any other of Rory's boyfriends, he'd respected her and asked for her help and permission, and for those reasons it was difficult to hate him. And she didn't hate him. She knew Logan was the man that made Rory happy. What she couldn't accept was Rory choosing a life that she'd run from, turning into one of 'them' and losing contact with the person she once used to be.
"Lorelai, just pick something," Luke said, finally having enough of the channel surfing. He'd waited patiently before budding in. He knew she and Rory had had a fight, he'd seen it many times before. In the end they'd always make up, but the process of getting there was usually long, stubborn and making his life miserable. That was the price of loving the two.
"Ballroom dancing it is," Lorelai replied sharply, before getting up and tossing the remote to the couch and marching upstairs. The part that felt the worst to her, was the fact that she had no control over who Rory was becoming or wanted to become. She just had an opinion and glimpse of the person she thought she had raised. She didn't have any mom-cards left to play.
"Logan, welcome," Shira greeted as Logan stepped into their recently renovated light-grey toned living room that evening.
"Hi!" he greeted. "I like what you've done with the place," he complimented, aiming to get a good start with his mother for a change.
"Thank you, Logan. It's sweet of you to notice," she replied. "No Rory tonight?" she asked after a few seconds.
"She was not feeling terribly well this evening, she sends her apologies," Logan said briefly.
"Oh, that's a shame," Shira replied. "I'll let the maids know," she said, beginning to rise from her seat. "Honor's running a little late, she just called," Shira added, moving towards the kitchen.
"Is dad in his study? I want to have a word before we eat," Logan asked.
"Where else?" she replied.
Logan knocked on the door of Mitchum's study. It was the very room he had had to stay clear from for most of his childhood. This was the place where his father was not to be disturbed in, and that feeling had carried well into adulthood, as he entered, feeling somehow out of place.
"Logan, come in, what can I do for you?" he greeted cheerily.
"I need to talk to you about Rory. But I want this to stay between us," Logan began.
"Sure. Everything is okay with you guys?" Mitchum asked, hoping his son hadn't screwed up again.
"Yes, we're fine. But she is not," he added. "She had a panic attack last night. I'm getting her some help. But I think she needs to take some time off to work on it," he explained. "She wanted to tell you herself, but I didn't think coming here was the best idea. She's with her therapist as we speak," he added.
"Okay," he said, leaning forward in his chair, "time off is no problem," he added. "But do you know what this is about?" he asked.
"I don't think it's my place to say, she's had a rough patch ever since she had her baby," he explained briefly. Logan had realized last night when he was reading about possible diagnoses online, that her rough patch had probably been a lot longer than that. Even before she had her baby, she hadn't been quite herself. She'd struggled with her self image, she'd grabbed at straws to get recognition and approval, each time shattering her self esteem when she struggled, both in her professional and personal life, the latter manifesting in the very fact that she hadn't dared to say she wanted more from him.
"As long as she's getting help," he replied compassionately.
"Dad, I always wondered. Why did you help her with Yale?" Logan said after a moment of hesitation.
"I told you, she's family," he began, "soon to be at least. And I guess it was a gesture of good faith," Mitchum added.
"So you don't really believe in her?" he asked.
"You know how I am - feminist research really isn't my thing, but if she wanted it enough to come and ask for it, I had no problem offering it. It couldn't have been an easy thing to ask considering our history," he explained, having actually given a second thought to the way he had handled Rory's feedback about the internship after Richard had confronted him. Rory's decision to come to him had been a sign of bravery, and that alone had gained his respect.
"You didn't answer my question," Logan stated. He knew Mitchum's demagogy too well to fall for it.
"She's clever, she has skills. She's just not a classical journalist. She's a writer. And I think the last few months have proved that she can edit," he added.
"I could've told you she was good a long time ago," Logan replied, smugly. He liked hearing him admit he had been right about something, and this was as close it would get.
"Yes, but back then she was no more than your college girlfriend or your mistress," Mitchum explained.
"Dad, it's Rory, she has never been just either of those things," Logan defended her.
"And now she won't be. Once she is feeling better, once she's a Huntzberger, there really is nothing stopping her from moving up from the junior-editor position. She has the gut feeling that can make her a great editor and a Journalism Management degree surely won't hurt," he said.
"What is it in it for you?" Logan asked. Mitchum Huntzberger always had an agenda.
"Well if you really must have me spell it out for you," he began, "once I am out of the picture, I want to leave the company in capable hands. I know that you'd be reluctant to run the whole thing on your own, I figured there was a better chance at it, if you were involved in it together."
Logan sighed loudly. "Why can't you ever just talk to people and not play these games?" Logan asked rhetorically, not really wanting to hear the answer and walked back out of the room. Under the circumstances there was no point discussing whether that scenario was likely or not, especially now that Logan was considering a sabbatical. And understanding why his dad was like he was, would not really begin to change the way he was.
"How did it go?" Logan asked carefully when he returned home.
"She was pretty good, gave me homework," Rory replied, trying to sound optimistic. She realized there was a lot of work to be done, and it wasn't going to be easy. She wasn't exactly looking forward to it, now also fearing another attack. While she was more prepared for it now than before, it was nothing pleasant to anticipate.
"Someone must've tipped her off about how much you love homework," Logan noted, with a smirk.
"How did it go with Mitchum and Shira?" Rory asked in return.
"Mitchum was on board with you taking some time off, no problems there. And Shira was Shira," Logan replied. This was not the time to explain Mitchum's motives.
"I always wondered what Christmas looked like at the Huntzberger's," Rory pondered.
"Ice-berg city with ridiculous gifts," he replied.
"So what did Santa bring you this year?" Rory asked jokingly.
"The house in Maine actually," he replied, with a sigh.
"That's a tough gift to follow," she commented.
"You know it doesn't have to be followed by anything," he said.
"I did get you a little something. I wanted to give it to you last night," Rory began, slipping a tiny metal USB stick into Logan's palm. "It's parts of my book that I left out. Mostly about you," she added.
"Wow, you sure I should read this?" he inquired, recalling his reckless younger self.
"No painful stuff, I promise," she replied, giving him a kiss. "Merry Christmas," she added.
"I got you something as well. But I am not sure how appropriate the gift is with everything you are dealing with," he said, hesitantly, handing her a grey box with a golden ribbon. Inside lay a beautiful greyish-blue satin trimmed lace bralette and matching briefs.
Rory let her hand trace over the fabrics, appreciating the sensation, before replying.
"I'm still me, Logan, I don't want this to change the way we are. I'm not going to break if you touch me, frankly it'd be a welcome distraction," Rory said, pulling him closer by wrapping her arms around his waist.
Logan hesitated. It was still Rory, in all her beauty. But seeing her fall apart like that had truly scared him, making him feel like she could crumble at any second. But he understood that at least for her sake, he couldn't show her how frightened he was. And treating her as fragile goods, was not going to help her in any way.
"I love you, Ace, and more than anything I want you to feel better," he said honestly, leaning in for a kiss.
AN: Thank you so much for your recent reviews. They are greatly appreciated!
