Celeste didn't sleep too well that night, tossing and turning, unable to put Jess' book out of her mind. She wasn't even sure why she felt the way that she did about it - and what she wanted most of all was to wait for her Tuesday morning therapy session to bring it up with her therapist. She felt entangled. But she knew that she was likely going to ask the same thing - did you read it?
Hence despite the drowsiness of the foggy and still pitch dark morning, she heaved herself up from the bed and pulled her laptop to her lap, it's bright screen hurting her eyes for a minute before she got used to it. She owed it to Jess and herself to try.
Jess really had made a number of alterations, clearly drawing character traits from his previous books and other people that they knew, including Rory and Luke as far as she could recognize. The main side character, which was formed after her, was called Annelise and the story itself was Brooklyn-based. The background story of Annelise reminded Celeste a lot more of G's than hers, despite Jess really not knowing a lot about G, but it was again one thing that reminded her of what Finn had told her the other night, making her make a mental note that she still needed to bring it up with Rory.
What she actually liked about the book was the fact that the darkest times depression brought on in the story were never actually described, only picking up from the moment Annelise asked for help. But it did hurt to read his side in this. She knew it had been hard on him, but reading it on black-and-white made it more real somehow, the analogies he used, the hopelessness he too had struggled, the sacrifices he himself had had to make - even if the situations were not exact to what they had been, she could tell where he'd gotten those ideas from. There was the move, putting his own self-realization aside, feeling like he was handling fragile cargo when dealing with her and so on. Thankfully, he hadn't included any mention of a kid. Mostly what she felt was the unfairness her condition put on him and the guilt. Her initial reaction of betrayal she never felt from it, but it still felt personal. It almost felt like after all these compromises Jess had had to make, it would've been completely unfair if she turned it down. And she didn't appreciated being guilted into this, even if it was her mind doing the actual gulting.
Clearly writing it had carried some type of therapeutic purpose for Jess. Still, she wasn't sure that guilt, people knowing how much she'd put him through, was something she could co-exist with. Of course there were people who knew - but it wasn't something she felt particularily proud about. Hence, for a completely different reason than she'd expected, she left the document with a single edit, adding a missing comma at the last paragraph. It indicated that she'd read it, but she wasn't sure what she was going to do about it.
She finally glanced up from the screen at 6.12, having read through the 120 pages in one sitting. There were bits of the book she thought were beautifully painted, which she'd read more than once, but that she had never doubted. But she really didn't have an clear opinion and her therapist's appointment still only sounded like the only reasonable thing she needed to do before making up her mind.
She snuck out of her room, across the hall, to get wash her face. There was no point going back to sleep this late in the morning, despite the night's sleep only being a brief five hours.
As she closed the tap she could hear Rory attempting to fold the pull-out couch downstairs, making an unmistakable sound. Clearly, she was eager to get back to the twins, which was half expected.
Evie was still fast asleep so she headed downstairs, hoping to catch Rory, and she did, just as she was emerging from her study.
"Look at us, two morning people," Celeste exclaimed, knowing that without the kids Rory would really not be up this early.
"I thought you had the morning off," Rory commented, yawningly.
"I just finished reading it," she replied, as they both walked downstairs. Evie was by now loud enough that if she struggled to find Celeste in the morning on their floor, she would just let herself be known, even without a baby monitor. But she really didn't expect her to be up for a few hours.
"And?" Rory inquired.
"Not what I expected, but I don't know. It's still personal and it stings - just in a different way than I thought it would. I haven't fully wrapped my head around it yet," she replied, indicating that she actually wasn't too keen to discuss it in detail yet, not even sure why she had even mentioned it in the first place. "Do you have time for breakfast now or...?" Celeste asked instead, already craving something to eat herself, having already been up for a few hours.
"I'm leaky already, but technically they're not even awake yet," Rory noted down her T-shirt that had formed a few stains already, covered up by a sweater. Between the two of them, this was not even something to be embarrassed about.
"I'm sure we can talk later," Celeste brushed it off. It could surely wait.
"What? Really - this happens like twice a day… I can wait," Rory said. She knew that the older the twins got the less she really was to go and meddle with their sleep - they'd eat when they'd wake and Maya had promised to let her know when they did. So far Maya hadn't.
"It's about G," Celeste begun, taking a deep breath. She wanted to talk to Rory without the nannies or Lorelai around, not wanting it to get back to G's father or just become some common knowledge to be whispered about.
"Oh," Rory reacted, sounding a little surprised and by the tone in Celeste's voice, a little concerned, sinking down to the chair by the kitchen table.
"I talked with her the other day and I think she's hiding how lonely she really is. I think she needs you more than you think," Celeste explained. "And she doesn't like to admit it, but I think she doesn't need to be treated like an adult in her own apartment, but I think she really needs a family feeling, and please don't take this the wrong way. I know you have your hands full, but maybe you need to check in with her more often. I told her she could text or call me if she needed to too, I hope that is alright?"
"Yeah, of course," Rory exhaled. She had to admit, she didn't like hearing this but it felt like she'd perhaps indeed not paid enough attention. She knew about her crush, not who it was, but the general story of unattainability. Still - even she'd just expected her to deal with it, not even inquired how things were going since they'd last talked. "Thanks," she added. Perhaps she indeed needed to consider her more than she did now. And it was then she realized that this was perhaps the biggest loophole in her idea of moving to London - she couldn't just leave her, and she felt a little embarrassed having not thought of it before.
As she walked towards the chief's house, as the sun was just rising, through the chill, the deck feeling a little slippery under her step, she realized that what she really needed to do was to head back to Manhattan. G had spent a week alone there, with just Cathy checking in on occasion, making sure the fridge contained food and the place got cleaned by the cleaners. This was Rory's miss, she'd been essentially doing what her dad was doing - treating her like an adult, when G really just needed someone to be there for her.
Finn's sister's house was impressive to say the least. It was so different from most of the lavish yet modern and sleek residents Finn was used to seeing in the States, where size was everything. While this too didn't lack in size, the Victorian-era house was all about the details, the nooks and the character, taking priority over it's grandiose style. The two-story white building had a spacious veranda fringed with white iron lace that wrapped around it's living area with vaulted white ceilings. That living area and the veranda always bustled with life durig the daytime, his sisters vinyl collection playing anything from classical to jazz and to rock throughout the day, echoing well into the outdoors.
Besides the surfing and seeing his family, each time Finn came here, usually in december, that house was one of the reasons why for some weeks he really struggled to grasp why on earth was he in New York the better part of the year. It was a perfect mixture of the local charm and modern minimalism on the inside - all white against the light wood-colored floor. But considering his sister, Sylvie, was a renowned interior architect, it shouldn't really have been a surprise.
Sylvie was his older sister, the second oldest of all of his siblings, Finn himself being the middle child. They were closest in age out of all the siblings and in that sense it always made sense that they were closer than perhaps Finn was to the others. Though in the Hartford society terms, as much as he'd heard from Colin and Logan, they were all close, always happy to see each other, but no doubt with the expected sibling-rivalry and banter.
Unlike Finn's other siblings, two brothers and his baby sister, who really could no longer be called that, Sylvie was a little bit of a misfit too. She'd gotten married very young, just when she was 20 because she was pregnant, hence she already had one adult child, who was attending the University of Melbourne. That marriage hadn't really lasted very long, and for years she'd been sort of the black sheep, a divorced single-mom, attempting to make it on her own on her career path. She'd married again, and from that marriage, in her early thirties she now had two preschoolers, but that marriage hadn't lasted either. She was now living with her current boyfriend of two years, Harrison, who had three kids under the age of ten, who were also living with them part time. So it was safe to say that before the kids all went to bed, the place was bustling and loud.
Finn was sitting by the decorative ethanol fire pit that evening, in the backyard, listening to the birds and the sound of the canary palms and jacaranda trees in the wind, simply pondering and on occasion browsing his newsfeed that was beginning to adjust to his location.
"I thought you'd gone out, they were opening this new club in the Valley tonight," Sylvie said, sounding surprised, as she approached along the veranda. Sylvie was tall like his brother, and her dark brown hair, with a hint of auburn under the right light, wild and curly, was now tamed by her having pulled it up into a loose bun on top of her head. She was all about supporting the local art scene and its designers, hence currently wearing a brightly colored Kablooie dress. One of her principles in life was keeping the background, i.e her work, clear and uncluttered while the people brought in the color with their personalities and clothing - she herself and her house was a living example.
"Maybe tomorrow," Finn replied, having been rather surprised that he'd managed almost half a week without her or his mother inquiring into his reasons for returning home early this year. He was technically on call for whatever his work still required him to do, this often meaning working half the night, but still he knew that coming home had been the right thing to do.
"But please - now with Harrison's kids here, please take your conquests to a hotel, alright?" Sylvie lectured smilingly. While her own kids were used to seeing everything and anything and Sylvie herself didn't think much of it, accepting her brother for who he was, with Harrison's kids, who were a little older and talked, she also had to answer to their mother, Harrison's ex-wife, which she preferred to avoid, recalling vividly an incident a year ago when one of them had caught sight of one of his visitors looking for one of her shoes in the backyard while dressed in a very tight glittery mini skirt - it had been hard to miss.
Finn shrugged, his usual upbeat character having grown somewhat indifferent on the matter. Maybe there was a limit to how many openings and parties one could attend before becoming bored of them?
"Come on, I have to ask. Why are you back early?" Sylvie inquired, adding "Or should I ask - who is she?"
Finn sighed. If there was anyone he needed to explain himself to, at least in some extent, it was her.
"I took myself out of the picture, it was just too complicated. But honestly - I really don't want to dwell on it. I just want to move on," he didn't beat around the bush, hoping that answer would satisfy her.
For a split second she thought about inquiring further, but the very fact that he'd needed to physically distance himself like he had, made it pretty clear to her that he was serious about wanting to forget about it, so she didn't.
"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad to be reminded that my little brother has a heart," Sylvie hugged him, without warning. "You're always welcome here. And I sure missed you," she added. She knew he had a heart, when it came to all of her kids, the family and friends, he always had a heart. She'd just begun to believe that he would never let anyone else close to him, perhaps he was too scared or broken. Even if it hadn't ended well, she was glad he'd let someone in.
"Thanks," he replied.
"So what's the plan? Or are you just going to spend most of your time in the water like last time," Sylvie teased.
"I haven't really thought that far to be honest," Finn admitted, which was very unlike him, usually having a social calendar planned for weeks ahead.
"Hey, you never guess who I saw the other day in Hellenika," she replied, diverting the subject referring to one of the restaurants to where she'd planned the interior recently and that alone always ensured her a table there, even short notice.
"Let me guess - Carter?" he teased back, referring to her first husband.
"No," she laughed, shaking her head. Thankfully her first husband was nowhere around Brisbane these days to both of their relief.
"I saw Archie with his sister, what was her name...," Sylvie began, trying to recall the name of the girl whom she'd never really known personally but had seen Finn with on occasion. Archie had gone to school with Finn and essentially this was her attempt to direct Finn to perhaps catch up with some long lost friends while he was here, hoping it might cheer him up a little. It was obvious he needed it.
"Robyn," Finn finished the sentence for her. Of course he remembered Robyn, they'd dated for a couple of months even back in high school. But he really didn't want to dig up the past with her. Especially if he was still processing everything.
"Right," Sylvie replied. "Archie said he might be moving back to the city, he'd been looking at properties," she added.
"I might just give him a call one of these days then," he replied, realizing that essentially what his sister was doing was trying to get him to reach out and do things to get him out of the house. He had other friends in town to see and in Sydney, where he was probably going to make a trip to at some point, but so far he had't really felt like it, mostly excusing himself with work or surfing.
"Oh and careful if you decide to drive up North, they said in the news tonight that there are few new bushfires up there," Sylvie warned him, knowing that if her brother had the time the Sunshine Coast beaches were definitely on his go-to lists despite the lengthy drive.
Logan was a little surprised to hear of Rory's decision to head back to Manhattan without much warning, saying that she felt like she'd neglected G. In a way she perhaps had, treating her like their dad did - like an adult inside of a teenager's body, making it fairly easy to forget that perhaps G really did need more than that. Rory didn't know just what she needed to do once she got there, but at least she was on her way back.
Logan was just about to head home that evening from work, the office already being nearly secluded, just the lonely janitor with a whooshing floor scrubber walking up and down the hallway, when his phone rang.
He felt a slight guilt in his chest as he'd been so preoccupied with everything, he hadn't really thought about Owen for months, and there he was - calling him, making Logan quite curious to what this was about.
"Owen, hi," he picked up, trying to sound chipper despite the lateness of the hour, and glanced out onto the dark and wet street.
"Hi, Logan," Owen greeted him.
"It's been a while, I'm sorry - life has been a little hectic," Logan apologized before he had a chance to say anything else.
"It's alright," Owen replied weakly. "Listen, I wish this was a social call, but I actually have some news," he said.
His voice sounded a little tired, raspy, making Logan ponder if everything was okay.
"My mom died," Owen said, his throat sounding dry.
That Logan certainly hadn't expected, and it reminded him painfully also of his own mother's passing that spring. And he hadn't really had a close relationship with Shira, unlike Owen had had with Catherine. And even he had liked Catherine, so had Rory. This truly was an unfortunate loss.
"I'm sorry, my condolences," Logan replied. "What happened - she seemed in good health the last time I saw her," he asked. The last time had been in fact at Owen's wedding that he'd attended without Rory.
"She had ovarian cancer, but we only found out recently. She'd refused treatment and kept it to herself as long as she could," Owen explained.
"I'm sorry, I wish I could've helped," Logan sympathised.
"She was stubborn, nothing you could've done," Owen replied. "There was nothing we could do either, it was already too late once we found out," he added, the sadness being evident in his voice.
"Anything I can do to help now?" he offered.
"She wanted you to come to her funeral. It's next Saturday," Owen said, not really knowing anything about where Logan was at the moment.
It wasn't ideal, but of course he would need to go, London or not.
"I'll be there. I'm not sure if Rory will be there though, but I'll ask and let you know," Logan replied.
"Thanks," Owen replied.
"Hang in there, okay?" Logan encouraged him, before hanging up.
He knew she needed to let Rory know but somehow at that moment more prominently his mind wondered whether he should tell Mitchum. If it was him, he certainly would've wanted to know. And while he doubted Owen was going to contact him nor wanted him attending the actual funeral, somewhere deep inside he did feel some loyalty towards the man and felt like he needed to tell him. Hiding the fact seemed worse somehow. And for that reason, he leaned against his desk and pulled out his phone, dialling Mitchum.
AN: Inspiration for Finn's sisters place 148 Kennedy Terrace, Paddington, QLD 4064 if you're interested.