"Dad, can I have a word?" Logan knocked on Mitchum's office door one evening. They were both in the New York headquarters working late, while the majority of the staff had already left.
"Logan, good to see you," he greeted, adding, "what can I do for you," as a standard reply. His son rarely came to him with just chit-chat, but he knew he was to blame for that.
"I wanted to suggest something," he began.
"Sure go ahead," he replied, expectantly.
"I want to take some time off to work on a game plan for the company's web platforms and digital marketing strategy, I feel I need some fresh ideas," he presented.
"How long are we talking about here?" Mitchum asked, looking up from his papers.
"A year," he replied, pushing it a little.
"You can have 3 weeks," Mitchum offered, returning to read the documents in front of him.
"Dad, if you really want me to even consider taking over HPG one day you'll give me a year. I do not intend to run this company the same way you've been doing it, I need a new approach. You know the publishing scene is changing and it is changing fast. This is my way to figure it out," Logan explained.
"I'm not dead yet, Logan," he commented smugly.
"Do you really have to be dead to take a break?" Logan inquired hypothetically.
"So you want me to sit at home popping pills like your mother?" Mitchum asked in return. He was popping a number of pills as it was, mostly for his heart and blood pressure, but after working the way he'd been working for the past 40 years the sitting at home part was that felt worse than death itself.
"No, that's not what I mean," he corrected.
"What then?" Mitchum asked, standing up from his seat and walking over to the window.
"Wouldn't you prefer that I did this work willingly and with the same enthusiasm that you have for it?" Logan said, walking over to him, trying to reason with him.
"Sure, I guess that'd be a bonus," he replied, thinking of him in Logan's age. He'd always hoped Logan would at least in some ways be like himself, so far there had been only glimpses, a gesture or a manner of speaking here and there. But most of the time Logan had fought him with every fibre of his being. Seeing him run the place successfully, before he killed himself with work, had indeed it's appeal.
"I've trained my staff, divided up the tasks, they've been running the department on their own for a week now, I've only been there to sign a few papers and to sit in on a few meetings. I am not needed there," he explained.
"Don't tell me you've made yourself replaceable?" Mitchum asked scornfully.
"Only to reinforce the company's position in the long run," Logan rationalized.
"Fine, you can have the year. But it better be worth it," he finally relented.
"Thank you," Logan replied respectfully. A year would have to do for now. He wanted to read, educate himself, listen to webinars and podcasts, and now knowing that Rory wanted a baby, there was a real chance he'd get to be fully involved in at least the beginning of it.
"Seriously, this is the best you can do?" Paris scolded the hairdresser who'd been sent as a replacement when her usual stylist had called in sick to do her hair before her wedding. "Just leave, I'll do it myself," she huffed, trying to save what could still be salvaged.
"I thought I heard something familiar," Rory said, entering the room.
"The damn hairdresser must've gotten her certificate on the web or something," she muttered going to the bathroom to wash her hair the second time.
"I'll help," Rory offered, showering her hair while Paris held onto a towel placed over her shoulders.
"Thank god I have short hair," Paris said. "I'd be bursting flames right now if I didn't," she added.
"So the nerves finally kicked in, eh?" Rory asked with a smirk. It had been strange to see Paris so calm just a few weeks ago. It was almost as if she didn't care about getting married. But here she was, clearly stressing.
"You could say that," she replied. "What's the time?" Paris asked nervously.
"We have time, just relax, I'll get you there on time," Rory said calmly, checking her watch without Paris noticing.
Twenty minutes later Paris's hair was dried, pinned up just a little and sides sleeked smooth, make up applied and ready to step into her wedding dress.
"Is the bride ready?" Lorelai called approaching them down the hall.
Paris' phone rang, as Rory helped her with the zipper.
"Oh no you don't, this is your day. Stop answering work calls," Rory lectured as Paris answered the call.
"This is not work, it's the contractor on our house, I need to get this," she justified, covering the microphone.
"Yes, the Agora grey goes in the master en-suite and the Majorelle blue goes in the kitchen," she explained to her contractor irritatedly.
"Why is she not wearing shoes yet?" Lorelai asked Rory.
"She's taking calls," Rory commented, rolling her eyes.
"Right," Lorelai said, grabbing the phone from Paris and taking over the call, "Mrs Geller, who will be in an half an hour Mrs. Morgan-Geller will have to call you back," Lorelai said disconnecting the call before handing the phone to Rory.
"Hey!" Paris reprimanded.
"Come on, we've got to get going," Rory said.
Paris pulled on her nude ankle strap pumps while Rory gathered her purse, phone and white peony bouquet. Two minutes later they were out of the house.
"God, those tacos did wonders," Finn noted, drinking up his glass of orange juice, trying to shake his hangover, which had already considerably improved.
"I told you they would," Logan said smugly.
"I know, it's one of Rory's tricks, but I keep forgetting it each time I actually need it," Finn added.
"It's one of Lorelai's actually," he commented, fixing his tie.
"Feeling better?" Colin asked, entering the room.
"I am," he replied, already dressed and ready to go.
"Rory just texted, they're in the car, so we better get going too," Logan said, holding his suit over his shoulder.
Finn's grandparents hadn't felt like travelling on such a short notice, their health being not what it used to be, and they'd settled on a web broadcast instead. The camera man hired for the job already waited with most of the guests at the City Hall. They'd kept the decor minimal on Paris' request, just adding a few peony bouqets for a small personal touch.
Finn's hair was a little messy, that was just the way it was, and after a few 'Congratulations' from his family members he began to pace around nervously. The crowd had been spread out equally not do draw too much attention to the lack of balance between the groom's and brides' guests, but even on Paris' side, several friendly faces waited including Paris' old nanny with her family.
"There's Finn. Boy he sure looks nervous," Lorelai noted laughingly from the doorway, indicating Finn and the officiant from the doorway that Paris too had arrived.
It wasn't long until music played and Paris came walking down the hall with Rory and Lorelai as her bridesmaids. Finn's eyes were glued into her, as she approached, smiling expectantly at him. The corner of his mouth rose up as a response to that sight, unable to avoid a ridiculously giddy smile.
Unlike the last time with Doyle, Paris and Finn had written their own vows.
"My Darling Paris," Finn began, "today I take my place as your husband in front of you. I promise you you are loved more than any metaphor can ever try to express. I cannot believe I am the lucky man who gets to marry you today," he said.
"Finn Morgan, you are my person, my inspiration, my family, my love and my everything. You've made me a better person by just being you and I am grateful from the bottom of my heart that today we continue our already exceptional life together today as husband and wife," Paris said.
After the ceremony the fairly relaxed reception took place at Zoe's back patio, offering people a buffet table, live music and most importantly an entertainment program for all the kids.
"So how does it feel to be my wife?" Finn asked gallantly, his hands around Paris' waist, stealing his wife away from the crowds for a private moment.
"Hmm.. I thought it'd be better actually," Paris joked with a crooked smile.
"That's just because you insisted on spending last night apart, I would've made it worth your while, you know," he commented smugly.
"I love you, Finn", she added after a few seconds, giving him a bold kiss.
