Logan had had quite enough of anonymous numbers calling his private cell, hence he'd developed a tendency to dodge those calls during the past week. More often than not it was another very distant relative, mostly from Shira's side, asking indirectly whether they might have a stake in inheriting anything.
As it was the second time this number had called, him noticing the rather unusual 444 ending, he decided to ask Rory.
"Do you know this number?" he asked holding out his phone to her, as they were eating weekday dinner, chicken pasta, with Finny sitting next to them in his high chair preferring to use his fingers to put the food in his mouth rather than use the green plastic fork in front of him.
"It does seem a little familiar," she frowned, trying to recall and began to flip through her address book, finally settling on using the search field.
"It's Owen," Rory stated, as the search results appeared.
"Oh..," Logan reacted, realizing he didn't even have his number. He quickly saved it and rose from the table, knowing he should call him back, feeling some urgency in the matter for some reason. Rory didn't particularly mind, knowing how important this was to him. Dinner time wasn't that sacred in their family - sure, she liked him to be home by it, but it wasn't anything like Friday night dinner at the Gilmore's.
Logan went through the kitchen, followed the service hallway to his office and opened the gridded glass door that opened to the South-side terrace, the room having gotten a little too hot for his liking as he'd forgotten to pull the blinds, having been at the HPG office that day. The warm May air filled his nostrils, the smell of New York dust beginning to be replaced with something much fresher.
"Owen, hi," he began as he heard him pick up, tucking his other hand into his pocket. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize the number," he added apologetically.
"Hi," he reacted, almost having begun to think he'd had the wrong number. He'd gotten the number from his mother, feeling a little silly himself, that he'd forgotten to ask Logan his contact information during their late night talk back in Maine. He'd sent his wedding invitation to Rory, but surely, Logan and him had a relationship that didn't necessarily concern Rory.
"I read about your mom," Owen said, suddenly recalling why he was calling. "I'm sorry for your loss," he added. Enough time had passed that Owen had had a chance to do his homework as well - he couldn't deny that he was a little curious and kept imagining what his life would've been like if he really had grown up as a Huntzberger. He wasn't terribly envious, or perhaps about some parts of it - like having slightly more options when choosing colleges - but the rest - not so much.
The funeral home had taken care of the personal and newspaper announcements, and pretty soon it had become common knowledge both on that and this side of the Atlantic that Shira was no longer with them. Shira had been out of the limelight for years now, but still the name and association ensured that people talked about.
"Thanks," Logan replied, having not really expected him to notice or bother enough to make the gesture of calling. After all Shira was part blame for them not having a relationship until now.
"How's Rory doing?" Owen asked, as if wanting to keep the conversation going.
"She's doing great. She just had her defence, she should be graduating magna cum laude even, I couldn't be more proud of her," Logan said, sounding not too dispirited. He'd decided he wasn't going to pretend to be more heartbroken about the loss of his mother, at least not around close friends and family - they all knew what the relationship had been like. He was truly beginning to believe he was fine.
"Sounds great, and you sound pretty good too," Owen pointed out.
"Well, if you think Mitchum is difficult, then my mother was a whole other story, nothing like what you have with your mother," Logan sighed. "Sure, it's a pity that I didn't have time to mend our relationship before she passed, but I'm not sure it would've worked even if I'd made more of an effort," he felt the need to specify not to sound completely heartless.
"I hear you," he replied, nodding along.
"Everything alright over there? Looking forward to the wedding?" Logan asked.
"I'm just looking forward to being married to her, she's looking forward to the wedding," Owen chuckled.
"That's the way it tends to be unfortunately. I just went to a friend's wedding last weekend, and he was the same," he replied, almost searching for ways to connect.
"Yeah," Owen sighed.
"Hey, I actually meant to ask you whether it'd be okay if I came alone to the wedding?" Logan asked. "It's just that Rory isn't supposed to fly and she's not too enthusiastic about the long drive either. She'd hate to miss it but I just think I need to put her health first in this," he explained. They'd talked a little about this with Rory, and she was pretty sure by now that by the end of June she didn't want to take on the trip.
"Em.. sure, I'd love to see her, but no, it wouldn't be an issue," he replied.
"She'd love to see you though, so maybe if you guys ever happen to come to New York, you should stop by," Logan suggested.
"We're actually going to London for our honeymoon, so we're flying through New York," Owen said.
"Then come a day early, both Rory and I have spent a great deal of time there, I'm sure we could give you some good tips on where to go and what to do. Or if the schedule is tight, come after - up to you," Logan offered. He was also beginning to get a number of ideas of what to get them for their wedding, in relation to London.
"I'll talk it over," Owen replied.
"Good, and again, I appreciate you calling," he replied. He really did - whatever the deeper reason, he liked the sort of modest support he felt from Owen's direction. He was family, but not suffocatingly close. He didn't seem to need him, but he did have some interest in getting to know him and Rory, which felt nice.
As he returned to the dining room, a minute later, Rory was just finishing up her food, his having gotten a little cold.
"Condolences and just… catching up," he explained briefly.
"Right," she swallowed a sip of water, handing Finny his sippy cup as well.
"I suggested they stop by sometime," Logan added.
"You really think that's such a good idea?" Rory replied, running her eyes over the apartment. While in a minor state of chaos right now, due to a days worth of toys laying around, Rory did recall perhaps better than Logan how intimidating stepping into this place could be for someone coming from a more humble background.
"What?!" Logan asked confusedly. "I am not going to lie about our net worth. I'm not going to flaunt it either. But there's no point in hiding it. Besides it might prove a good chance to discuss some finances," he added.
"But you're not going to just hand him some big check are you?" Rory asked. She could only imagine Owen being offended by the gesture, despite his modest income, unless of course she had him all wrong.
"I just think he should know that he's in Mitchum's will, and I just figured until then, he should know that if he needs, I don't know, a down payment on a house or something, we can help," Logan explained.
"Yeah, but you've got to be careful there, he might not take it so well. He didn't particularly seem the sort of guy to accept charity willingly," Rory suggested.
"Yeah, I figured," Logan replied. He really hoped that was the case, the alternative being that his interest in him really was all about the money. That was the scenario he hoped to avoid and he knew he needed to be careful about that. That was the kind of thing his father and grandfather had always warned him about. He desperately wanted to be right about Owen, but he had to admit - he was a little hesitant too.
Celeste's words had stuck with Jess, and for about a week he'd gone through the motions of going to work and working, to the extent of what was expected of him, almost searching for something in that work to make him excited. She was right - he'd lost the drive that brought him into this business - the drive for change and to get more of these types of books out there that were something other than happy-go-lucky or trying to entertain teenagers by providing them with the latest vampire-werewolf drama. He did love what they had done, but working as much as he'd been doing, with everything else he had going on for him with Celeste and Evie, he felt uninspired, he lacked new ideas when it came to his work. He was simply tired. It had in fact mostly been Noah these days who'd come up with fresh suggestions, the merge with the Iron Circle having just been one example.
It was for these reasons he was especially happy to hear back from Lauren, her somewhat sarcastic commentary, that never quite sounded like she was happy with any of his work, feeling like a refreshing breath of fresh air.
They'd just agreed that he'd be coming next Friday, this way only really having to miss half a day from work, when he felt the need to clarify some things.
"And I should probably tell you that I'm bringing my wife along," Jess texted her.
She replied with a surprised emoticon adding "Congrats!"
He could see her beginning to type something more, then stop, then start again, the three dots indicating her actions.
"I believe you've neglected to tell me about her. Is it recent?" Lauren asked.
Jess really hadn't been in touch with Lauren on a more personal level in years, in the past few years just shooting a few work-related e-mails back and forth.
Jess felt a little guilty for not having told her, and for not having been entirely open about her to Celeste also, especially since he'd sensed some jealousy in her tone. The truth was that she'd once been a lot more than just his editor. Somehow he'd just felt that admitting to anything would've caused unnecessary insecurities in Celeste and now just didn't seem like the time, since she hadn't been home for very long yet, and they were in a place that was fresh, and he didn't want to ruin it. Yet, he didn't just want to start experimenting with a new editor either. Sure, Jenn would've probably managed, but he felt there was a certain ruthlessness that just couldn't be achieved with the ongoing workplace dynamics - him being Jenn's boss.
"Well, not exactly - a little more than two years actually. Celeste and I have a little girl," he admitted, hoping she wouldn't be too mad.
"What's her name?" she asked.
"Evie. She's almost 16 months now," he shared with pride, attaching a picture of Evie in his lap from her birthday with a broad smile on her face. Both Jess and Celeste had never posted a picture of Evie on social media beyond a very close circle of friends, hence it really was no wonder many people didn't know of her existence.
"Cute. Looks a little like you," she replied.
"She doesn't know about me, does she?" Lauren added a few seconds later.
"She knows your my editor, and I hope that can stay that way," Jess replied
"Are you planning to tell her?" Lauren asked.
"I was hoping - no, but I'm not sure anymore," he sighed. The entire conversation was making him feel guiltier by the second.
"Well frankly I'd prefer that you did - I don't want to put my time into this if she's just going to have you pull the book from my desk when she finds out," she added.
"That's what I feared," he replied. This was so like her - she kept thinking practically, perfectly able to separate whatever feelings she had in relation to the topic from work.
"I'll try," he promised.
The funeral had just ended, and the roughly 150 person crowd was pouring out of the Gothic Chapel. There was a lot less attendance than anticipated - likely the divorce and the last decade spent largely in the UK having left a mark.
Rory had sat between Emily and Logan, her grandmother supportively squeezing her arm as she struggled to watch Logan take over for Honor, who'd been unable to follow through with the speech, as the plan had been. Logan had put on his best poker face but now that he was participating in bearing her mother's casket towards the hearse, she could see that he was struggling to keep a straight face. Rory was far from grieving Shira herself, but her hormones were definitely making her a little emotional, as she watched him. She could feel the conflict in him, and no matter how unexemplary as a mother - she was still his mother.
Mitchum hadn't joined them in the first row - who knows what he was thinking, but at least he'd shown up, Rory having briefly had her doubts. But in a way she could imagine that he too was feeling a little guilty for how things had happened.
"Rory, oh, come here," Emily pulled her granddaughter into a hug, stroking her back, as she saw a single tear dripping down her cheek.
"It's just hard seeing him like this, plus my…," she whimpered quietly, trying desperately to gather herself. It didn't need to be explained to Emily how all over the place her hormones were.
"He's going to be alright, he's got you," Emily assured. "And soon enough, he won't even have time to think about any of this," she added supportively, the reality of their soon-impending situation almost making Rory laugh through her tears.
"I know," she replied, as she turned, watching Logan head back towards them. She soon waved Emily off, agreeing to meet at the country club for the reception.
As the limo door closed behind Logan, it was then Rory managed to wrap his head in her arms just moments before he broke - these being the first tears he'd shed the entire week and half since it had happened.
To Logan it was something about actually carrying the weight of her, and the casket itself, that broke some barrier in him, making him sense that it was the real person her mother had been that he was carrying, not just her voice that still echoed, largely in its condescending or discrediting form, in his mind or the tobacco smell mixing with her Dominique Ropion's Carnal Flower perfume that lingered in the air whenever she had been around - but the feel of her, from some very distant childhood memory - while hard to admit sometimes - there too had been hugs and kisses up until some time.
The ride to the venue was thankfully long enough for Logan to gather himself, Rory continuing to hold his hand and near the end, placing it to the side of her bump, that was getting double nudges, to cheer him up a little. It worked.
"And before you start thinking about it or feel you need to ask, I'm not naming any one of them Shira," Logan said, feeling like he needed to spare Rory from asking that question. The idea would've been almost preposterous naturally, giving him the much needed bang of laughter to distract him.
Rory just squeezed his hand in response, appreciating him saying it.
The reception was surprisingly less grim, people soon enough finding more of the positive aspects to tell - the fundraisers she'd organized, the committees she'd been on - down to the dresses she'd worn, Logan actually learning a thing or two about Shira along the process of accepting people's condolences and hearing their stories.
There were a lot of D.A.R members whom Rory remembered from her time working for the organization, many of them congratulating her on her pregnancy and asking about what she was up to. While none of them truly seemed to want to hear about her graduation, still - it was a nice change of discussion, but she attempted to stay polite and revert the topic back to Shira at some point.
"Rory, honey, you look simply glowing in this sea of black," Honor approached her, having already drowned her grief in nearly an entire bottle of Chardonnay. Honor had been running a little late, hence they hadn't really had the chance to talk until now.
"Honor, I'm so sorry for your loss," she managed. She'd thought long and hard what to say in this situation to her, knowing from Logan, that she was taking it a lot harder than he was. Typically one would compliment the mother as being a wonderful person - that she was unable to do with a straight face. She hardly had positive memories to share, she didn't even know that much about her truthfully, having purposefully not cared to find out.
"Oh, Rory, thanks, but I get it - you hardly need to pretend you liked her, I know what she was like to you," Honor admitted, a little too openly perhaps, the wine having discarded her filter.
"Well, I don't like seeing you, your kids and Logan in mourning either," she added.
"That's sweet," she replied. "Ah, just take my mind off this will you, tell me about the babies - I haven't seen you for so long," Honor dragged Rory into a couch in one of the more quieter corners.
"Things have been going good so far, it's a lot harder though - I feel so tired all the time and hungry, they're watching my blood pressure. I would be quite lost without Maya - Finny is just really beginning to show his temper and boy, can he run," she explained laughingly.
"And you're what - 30 weeks along?" Honor sized her up roughly.
"I wish, 25, officially due date is in the beginning of September but more realistically we're talking August, hopefully not too much sooner," she explained.
"Just make sure Logan lets you take it easy," Honor suggested.
"Oh, he's definitely taking good care of me," Rory replied, appreciatively, smiling to Logan softly across the room as their eyes met, while he was talking to some of Shira's relatives.
"You know, I always kind of wanted a girl…," she began a little dreamily.
"Logan told me that you once thought you were going to have a girl," Rory said.
"Well, technically twice, but I guess girls are just not in the cards for us," Honor replied with a sigh.
"Oh," Rory reacted, realizing what she was talking about. Logan had told Rory a while ago that they too had miscarried. "I'm sorry," she added.
"Hey, we've both been there, a few weeks here or there - it still hurts," Honor explained roughly.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rory added.
"Oh there you are!" Lorelai exclaimed as she approached, Finny running ahead of her already and climbed to the couch next to Rory wanting to get into her lap.
"He's adorable," Honor pointed out. "Looks a little like Conrad when he was his age," she added as she watched Rory bounce the boy on her knees gently.
"Oh Honor, any chance you'll be in the States the last week of June?" Lorelai asked Honor suddenly.
"That's just the week we're coming for our holidays," Honor announced.
"Perfect, then I'll e-mail you, perhaps," Lorelai noted a little cryptically.
"Mom, I really don't need a shower, I have everything already," Rory realized what she was up to.
"Nobody needs a babyshower, Rory. It's as much for us as for you, and don't worry, I'm not making you drive to Stars Hollow for it," Lorelai added.
"And what nonsense is that - that you have everything? You can't be serious?" Honor exclaimed in disbelief.
"We do - the nursery is set up, I have the stroller, I ordered the car seats this week, the drawers are full with cute outfits and we have all of Finny's toys…," Rory began to list.
"Huh," Lorelai exclaimed, feeling a little perplexed.
"Still, we want you pampered, in one piece and ready to have a nice day," Lorelai requested. Surely there were other things than showering her with gifts that they could do.
"Fine," Rory grumbled, knowing better than not to argue with her mother on something like this. That was a battle waiting to be lost.
"Finny, do you want to go say 'hi' to your cousins?" Honor suggested, gesturing towards her own kids who were clearly a little bored in the other corner.
"You doing alright there, kid?" Lorelai asked, taking a seat next to her.
"Yeah, just it's hard seeing Logan like this, hell.. Everything feels hard these days," she replied, massaging her bump that was already getting a little sore from the side getting all the kicks.
Lorelai placed her arm around Rory, stroking her shoulder. Rory had really missed this type of effortless closeness with her mother, truth be told.
"I'm really glad you are around, you know. I'm sorry I pushed you away when I did…," she felt the need to apologize.
"Hey, I'm not saying I liked any part of it, but know I am not flawless," Lorelai explained.
"I just needed some space, you know - to learn to be me without thinking about what you thought all the time," Rory specified.
"I do not appreciate the resemblance I feel to my mother in that sentence, but I do get it," Lorelai snorted laughingly, before hugging her daughter.