One of the benefits of having a home inside a firehouse was that the men, and apparently two women, who had worked there, had a good habit of keeping fit in their spare time. While this particular station had never really had any fancy equipment, the somewhat retro posters of exercises, the pull up and hanging leg raise bars which they'd used, Jess had simply removed from their former prominent locations into the former locker room, that now mostly held their construction tools and the laundry room that also doubled as an extra bathroom. It wasn't as nice as going for a run or doing his workout out on the deck, but for the colder months it was fine, giving him the feeling that he'd made an effort.
It was just barely 7 AM as he finished up his last rep of pull ups with knee twists. With years the exercise had become more and more dreaded for him, usually saving it for the very end of his routine - he wasn't as young and fit as he'd once been. He sighed, and gupled down a glass of water as he finished. He pulled off his sweaty singlet and shorts, throwing them into the laundry basket, and stepped into the shower, stepping bravely into the shower without waiting for it to warm up. He'd read about the Wim Hof method a few months ago, and while he really had no intentions to try ice swimming in the lake, Luke had once pushed him into, cool showers were a part of their day to day, as it took a while for the water to reach from the large boiler to the showers anyways. It was like taking the health benefit out of the water otherwise wasted. For a moment the icy water took his breath away but with conscious breathing it really wasn't that bad anymore, making his body radiate it's own heath. As the water turned warm after some seconds he turned it down a notch, not really needing it to be hot anymore, and soaped his body thoroughly, washing away the last shred of sweat.
He stepped out of the shower, letting some of the water simply drip down his body to the rustic linen rug.
Celeste had gotten him an old-fashioned shaving kit - brush, bowl and the kind of cream one had to make foam of by hand. She always did have a good taste in scents - the cedarwood mixed with a hint of clary sage feeling like his second nature by now. He brushed the fluffy foam onto his skin, like a ritual of sorts. He didn't really bother on most days, letting his stubble roam free, but whenever he did shave, it was as if preparing for something important.
He began with his cheeks, moving onto his neck and chin, finishing it off with his upper lip, taking his time. For an author this was a big day. However, he'd never been more proud of completing something, not even his books, as he was proud of the house he stood in - every little detail, that he'd built, plastered, sandpapered or painted. Everywhere he looked, he noticed the little things he'd struggled with or those that still bugged him, being unfinished or completed less perfectly. He knew the place inside and out.
Before heading back upstairs to change into his travel clothes, he glanced over the Apparatus Bay - it really only lacked a few things - and he looked forward to seeing it open. He knew it was risky, but knowing that in the process of creating it they'd gained their home, and if Taylor didn't act like the biggest jerk on the planet, they might just get away with some sketchy opening hours, almost like doing it as a type of hobby.
He took a deep breath, hoping already that his book tour wouldn't have to take that long and he could be back to finish it. But he knew that his book's timing was near-perfect to sell well, the original plan of 15 signings had turned into 35, some thankfully in the same cities and on same days - and he knew he needed to take full advantage of it. He would've been stupid not to.
He reached his bedroom just as Celeste had gotten up, stretching her back out with her arms up, one hand holding onto the other.
"Morning," she said, approaching him with a weak casual yawn, allowing her fingers to trace his muscles in passing as she kissed him in greeting, appreciating the sight of him, loosely wrapped into a towel. She would've loved to do a little more, frankly, but she was still a little sore from last night and she knew he had a plane to catch, his book tour starting off in Chicago.
Observing him picking out his clothes for the day, most of his things already packed into his hand luggage, Celeste pulled her bamboo robe onto her shoulders.
"Eggs or granola?" she asked him, practically.
"Eggs," Jess replied, casually, and just as she was about to head out the door, he pulled her close for one more kiss, this one much more meaningful.
But she could see that it was not him asking for more, which would've probably made him late. His face was appreciative, but with a hint of worry.
"Are you going to be okay here?" Jess asked, seriously.
She nodded, the words feeling heavy. The way he worried about her was heavy with emotion - he'd put up with so much, made so many sacrifices, and yet - he was still there. After kissing him once more, briefly, just for that, they pulled apart - each going on with their morning.
She was hesitant, unsure how she would manage, but she knew she needed to give it her all, and noticed the signs of when she wasn't so she could ask help. He was going to come back for a weekend in between, but the next month or so she just needed to persist. And at the same time she felt a little bad about missing his book launch - after all, this was the first time he knew Jess as an active author - she'd only ever listened to him speak about his books directly to her on from a video from one of the signings of his last book three years ago. She wanted to show how proud she was of him, and the least she wanted was to shadow that self-realization this must've been for him with worry.
"It's like men going to war or something," Celeste responded to Rory telling her about Logan's plans, having let the idea set for a few days.
"At least they have a better survival rate," Rory noted.
"And we don't need to figure out how to plough the fields and mend fences," Celeste pointed out, wanting to steer the conversation to the positives of their situations. She'd also quite recently finished reading Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, feeling like she needed something different to the grim mysteries she usually preferred. "Lighter" wouldn't have been quite the world, but it was definitely more romantic than the roughness of the nordic noir. Jess had even teased her a little at first, it being such classic women-oriented novel series, but seeing how she still sometimes looked for that approval from him, he'd eased off soon enough as she'd frowned at his comments.
"Listen, I was actually thinking maybe we could come to Stars Hollow, stay a week or two or something," Rory said after a thoughtful pause.
"God, I'd love that," Celeste exclaimed.
"Maybe I could just bring one of the nannies, let the other one have some time with her own kid," Rory explained, thinking of Cathy.
"You could totally stay with us, I'd have to do an IKEA run or something, so the chief's house would have cribs and stuff like that, but I could totally do it," she suggested, beginning to feel excited. At the same time keeping busy was probably the best way to distract herself as well.
"Could you? I'd be happy to pay for the furniture…," Rory replied, wanting to contribute.
Celeste almost began to say that it wasn't necessary, but it was a little. Instead she sighed, and admitted, "Okay, I'll let you know - if you have time to check yourself, you can tell me what kind of mattresses you want. And I'll tell you when I can have everything ready. I'll probably have to ask Luke to help," Celeste noted.
"And I'll talk to the nannies and call mom," Rory listed, already making a mental list of things she needed to do. The prospect actually gave her a new kind of purpose - determination to step out of her shell for a change. It was risky, but it wasn't as if she couldn't just come back if it sucked. "I can't wait to see you," Rory sighed, that prospect alone, feeling like something special.
Celeste looked up, trying not to cry. To hear that she missed her enough to come to her despite everything - that it wasn't just her, meant the world to her.
"Don't cry," Rory added, as if hearing her struggles.
Celeste chuckled. "I miss you too," she added simply.
Going to school had definitely widened G's circle of friends. She still hung out with Amelia out of respect for their joint history, but there were others whose company she actually preferred - Philipa, Homura and Mason. With them she actually felt more relaxed, preferring the setting that wasn't so thirsty for popularity as Amelia was, not feeling like she needed to keep impressing them. Mason and Homura were an item, both out of their individual closets by age 12 and 13 respectively and willing to tell everybody who listened how they'd known from the moment they met that they were 'it' for each other. Philipa was fairly shy, yet well spoken when amongst friends, her priorities set in becoming a prosthodontist, and she had a fitting obsession with the esthetics of people's teeth. But the group was fun to hang out with during recess and lunch.
"My parents are finally getting a divorce! My dad finally admitted he's been having affairs, AFFAIRS," Mason exclaimed demonstratively as he sank down into the lunch table.
"Welcome to the club of daddy issues," Philipa noted, not sound at all surprised, and bit into her hummus ciabatta.
"Or mommy issues," G pointed out, unenthusiastically. She hadn't gone into great detail about her mother's absence from her life during the early years, but they knew the general story of her mother living abroad. The relationship she'd had with her mother had never really come naturally - Sherry had tried being the over caring mother, then switching to the 'cool' best friend mode as if trying to mimic Rory's mom, but overall it just came off a little desperate and intense. As she'd never really treated her as a daughter, giving her perhaps even too much decision power over her own life, the result had left her craving for direction, feeling the heaviness of having to make her own choices sooner than she perhaps should've needed to.
"Trust me, it's better that way," Homura pointed out, speaking from experience. "There'll be fighting a lot less, they'll at least in the beginning be trying to make it up to you. So start making lists of all the stuff you want," he added, biting into his soba noodle salad.
"Oh, I'm on it - L.A trip coming my way," Mason replied.
"Any one of you coming to Matt's party this weekend?" Philipa asked. Matt was just one of the popular kids at their grade, whose Halloween party invites had been spread across the entire school.
"I don't know.. Maybe?" Mason glanced at Homura. "Did we have other plans?" he inquired.
"I had a few ideas, but we might crash if we feel like it," Homura added, taking a sip of his water.
"Georgia?" Philippa asked, going by her full name as her teachers insisted.
G had tried the embrace the school's party scene. There was pretty much something happening each weekend. She'd mingled, consumed alcohol in moderate amounts - nothing she couldn't handle, danced and made out with one or two guys she'd sort of found attractive. But all in all she had felt like she was just watching a dull movie, waiting for the night to end.
"Nah, I don't think so," G replied.
"Big plans?" Philippa inquired with a smirk, curious to if she had a date.
"Nothing definite," she fibbed, wanting them to stop inquiring.
She was doing what a 16-year old was supposed to do. She had her extracurriculars - yoga, she was a part of the school swim club, but her aim was really not to compete but just practice, hence she stuck to the background, doing just slightly more than the minimum requirement. She had also tried the photography programme, but hadn't really clicked with the 20-something NYU graduate student teaching it for the time being. Besides, the type of photography she liked was more experimental than what they did. While she had to work hard for it, her grades were good enough without fully packed evenings to spruce up her resume, having done a lot of different things already in France. And the guidance counselors at both her former and present schools agreed that as she didn't really want to become a doctor or a lawyer all she really needed to do was keep her grades up.
The only definite plan she had for the weekend was going on one her day tours of the city, which followed the Google document Finn had made for her, when she'd first met him, listing all of the off the beaten path things New York had to offer, some official, some just something he'd discovered on his own. It held anything and everything from tourist attractions, independent galleries, photo spots of cute cafes and even clubs, the latter naturally only available to her in part.
"You're still doing that bucket list of your's?" Mason asked, having once caught a glimpse of the document in question.
"Yeah," G replied. It wasn't really a bucket list per se, but close enough.
"What else have you got left there? God, I thought you'd be done by it by now," Mason commented, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"There's still like half to go," she replied, handing him her phone to show it.
"Oh.. some of these are pretty cool," Mason pointed out, leaning into Homura to give him some ideas as well.
"And looks like this Finn guy has been modifying this list quite recently," Homura noted some changes since two days ago.
G eyed at them questioningly, gesturing with her hand for them to hand the phone back to her. Strangely enough she hadn't note the changes before. But indeed, as she got a hold of the list again, she could she he'd added several now locations and some comments to some of the former one. It was quite endearing really - him pointing out which of the places he didn't want her going alone or in the dark, the autumn evenings having changed some of those experiences considerably, there were also additions to some of the places to eat - down to the specifics on the menu items she should try.
Maybe it was something in her impression that shone out, that made the others a little curious.
"It's a lot of trouble from the guy to put something like this together, you know," Mason commented, taking a sip of water.
"It's almost like... what was it?" Philipa pondered. "I watched this old movie with my sister last weekend, Keanu and Sandra Bullock..," she tried to recall.
"Lake house?" Homura filled in the gap.
"That's right!" Philippa recalled. "And the guy took the woman on a date around the city, by letter, while they were in different times - this is kind of like that," Philippa commented.
"Oh, come on - we're just friends," G replied. They were, her feelings put aside.
"A guy puts this much effort into something like this, it sounds like a lot more than that to me," Mason replied, his mouth still half full.
"He doesn't see me like that," G noted, setting her own already cleared tray aside.
"Maybe that's just what you think," Philippa said with a wink.
"He's older," G replied, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Older like a few years or are we speaking decades?" Mason insisted.
She was saved by the bell, having not to go that deep into it. Frankly she didn't want to do the math. But still the fact that a grown man bothered with something like that and still did, updating the list to make it safe and enjoyable for her, only fed her longing. And now, with her friends pointing out the same, it only made her feel warmer inside. Yet she had a sense that if she allowed herself to induldge in that thought, getting hurt would be inevitable.