Celeste was just on her lunch break at the Inn Annex, finishing up her home-made salad, roasted beet and goat cheese with winter greens, having spent the past twenty minutes discussing Evie with Sarah who in return had talked about her kids - who was good at what and what they had going on in their daycare - things like that, when her phone chimed indicating a new message.
There had been radio silence from Finn for half a week or so, and she'd almost begun to think that it was a lost cause and she had already tentatively asked Lane if she knew any DJ-s that might help them out during the opening. While Lane's band played a variety of music and also did covers, she just had this specific sound in mind that she wanted, which she wasn't sure they could master.
"I might have found you a band," Finn's message said casting a wide smile on her face. "It's not cheap, but it's like the third of the price I'd be if you'd have them flown in especially," he had typed next. He added a link and a pdf with a price estimate from their agent. "They had a gig fall through due to some venue fire in Boston," he'd added.
The name was unfamiliar to Celeste, but the moment she heard the chords she knew this was it.
The euphoria of the discovery quickly changed into a panic as she looked through the estimate. This was not the kind of money she had to throw around these days, but then again this wasn't just some small scale band either. If it had been anything other than the opening this was something that would've counted as a real concert that they could've charged people for, and not pennies either. This was something that might actually be the biggest publicity stunt she could pull to get the store the attention they needed. Now she just needed the money and quick.
She quickly texted Finn that she was interested, inquiring into the payment deadline and what kind of equipment they needed. She would just have to think of something.
Logan had arrived at Portland International an hour earlier than Rory's plane was due, the no doubt modernized but still familiar setting where he'd landed almost exactly three years ago bringing back a lot of memories. It had been the most fortunate detour of his life.
He'd rented a humble Volkswagen Jetta, not wanting to draw much attention to himself, and was now waiting for Rory at the arrivals gate, with two tall cups of coffee. This was an oddly familiar position to be in - he'd waited for her to arrive at various airports throughout their time, and before that he'd simply waited for her at the coffee cart on campus. Some things never changed.
He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep during his flight, the internal dramas of the HPG going through his mind. He had a hard time believing how a couple of years ago he had actually wanted to do this type of thing for living - managing something this huge, the complex relationships, large sums of money, responsibility and authority, while right now - he really didn't feel like he wanted any of it. He just wanted to go back home.
Logan glanced at the arrivals board again where the time seemed to pass but Rory still was nowhere in sight. Mothers hugged their children, who'd just walked through the gates, an older couple being picked up by their grandson by the looks of him, a joyour chorus of a high school cheerleading team greeting one of their own, a couple of college students falling into a deep passionate kiss at their reunion - the arrivals gate seemed to carry that type of positive energy.
"You know, we could try to out do them," Rory said, catching Logan lingering in his thoughts for a moment, peoplewatching. She'd managed to walk up close, before he noticed her, which she found a little funny, but on Logan's defence he was tired.
"Hey," Logan let out a deep sigh of relief, handing her the coffee cup and hugged her.
"Hi," Rory replied, up close, kissing him then. While it didn't look perhaps as passionate and outwardly as the one the college students had just had, nearly dry humping on the spot, the kiss was pure and deeply intimate.
"Now I just need to wipe this stupid grin off my face," Logan noted, struggling to stop smiling. It was going to be difficult to combine seeing his wife again after weeks and at the same time attend a funeral where he was supposed to show appropriate compassion.
Rory sighed, getting exactly what he meant, and wrapped her arm around his body and walked with him towards the parking lot. Thankfully they had a few hours before the service.
They had a quick lunch, Logan filling her in in more detail what was going on in London, Rory sharing how good being back in Stars Hollow had been and how she'd managed to bond a little more with G. They both knew the headlines of each-other's stories, but in person, his hand gently stroking hers, it was infinitely better and one could really see the emotion behind it.
After lunch, Rory used the backseat of the car to pump, needing to relieve the pressure before the service. That milk was going down the drain, but she was now a lot more relaxed about giving up the control for a day, the time with Celeste having truly been good for her.
"So she's really taking the formula now?" Logan asked about Emma, while he sat in the front seat, observing her from the rearview mirror having just replied to a couple of e-mails earlier to pass the time. He still found it a little hard to believe, having himself attempted a number of times. It was these little things that he was missing, their little advancements.
"Mixed with the real thing," Rory replied, smilingly.
Logan smirked, quite enjoying hearing about his girl's odd character traits. Leigh was the chill one - a little flegmatic even, and Emma - well Emma was something else - loud, demanding and picky. And naturally he missed Finny too. Finny reminded him of himself.
"I think I made a little progress with Leigh too," she added, still feeling a little hesitant about the topic. But not knowing when they'd been in the same space again before the holidays, she just wanted to share this with him, more than anyone else.
Logan knew what she meant and what that meant. And the "Great," he managed to say, really didn't feel like an adequate response. All he wanted was her to feel that love that he already felt for all of their children. Sometimes it still felt odd saying that - they had children.
"You know..," Logan began. "I could probably come home tonight. Take a flight back to London tomorrow," he said, having not been too sure if he could spare the day, but had caught up on some stuff on the plane. He really didn't want to leave the same day.
Rory wanted to let out a squeal and jump from joy, but with the breast pump still whooshing, she was in condition to attempt such motions without staining her black button-up blouse. "I'm glad," she simply replied, with a wide smile, running her fingers up and down the back of his neck, into his hair, seeing him close his eyes for a second and just enjoy.
The ride to the crematorium where the service was being held was too short to really shift their mindset from, but as soon as they saw the people - dressed in all black, some older ladies even wearing dark weils - the mood was adjusted accordingly.
The memorial service was held in a humble one-story crematorium that only really had a small chapel fit for 30-40 people or so. The room had filled quickly with mostly unfamiliar faces for Rory, Logan recognizing a few from Owen's wedding, to whom he nodded in greeting.
"Hey," Owen said as he noticed him, having been busy dealing with the organisational side of things.
"Hey. Our condolences," Logan said, shaking Owen's hand as it was their turn. But somehow, the handshake didn't do it justice and the handshake turned into a hug. The brothers held each other firmly - clearly there being something more between them than just an acquaintance.
"I'll talk to you later," he added, continuing to accept a supportive hug from Rory as well.
The ceremony was a 'closed casket', per Catherine's request. All in all Owen had held it together surprisingly well, he'd even managed to read an excerpt from Catherine's favourite books, Fahrenheit 451. When they played the surprisingly upbeat song from Monty Python's Life of Brian, again - her request - it almost seemed to mock the event a little. But who were they to argue. It was definitely a side of Catherine youthful and humorous side neither of them had truly known, but hearing people whisper how that was so her, made the two feel like perhaps they truly didn't know her enough.
Logan sympathized with Owen most about the fact that Catherine truly was his only piece of family that he had had for years. At least Owen had Charlotte these days. Sure Owen had his so-called step-father and step-brother too - but as both of them had really only become a part of his family when he was an adult already, only briefly having lived under the same roof together, Owen really didn't have anyone else in the world than his father's side of them family out of whom Logan was the only person he knew in person.
Logan and Rory rose from their seats, and as they were beginning to move out of the hall Logan noticed a brief glimpse of Mitchum in the back. Telling him had been his call, and in a way he was glad that he had come, even if as it appeared now, he was only really attempting to slip away without talking to anyone. He certainly wasn't going to chase after him or start insisting that he stayed. If Mitchum wanted to talk to Owen, that was up to him.
He didn't bother pointing it out, not even to Rory, who was having a few words with Charlotte at the same time.
It didn't really matter did it?
The funeral reception took place in a small Inn just outside of Portland, one that Rory was quite sure her mother would've liked. No flowery wall-papers, just simple clean lines and an airy feel.
They'd mingled for a few hours, snacked on some pretty good hors d'oeuvres, and when not mingling - just enjoyed each other's company. There had been a round of speeches where thankfully no-one had demanded anything from them. But it had shown them glimpses of the Catherine they had been unaware of before - her avid fondness towards gardening and painting among other things. Rory almost felt like her career as a biochemist should've gotten more recognition, that's what she would've wanted if it had been her, but she figured there were a lot of people there who knew nothing about her life before coming to Maine. In that sense she felt privileged to know such things.
As Rory had excused herself to go to the bathroom, Owen had wandered back towards Logan.
"Want to join me for a drink outside," Owen suggested, two glasses and a bottle at hand.
"Sure, I'll just text Rory," he replied, following him to the back porch, where they took a seat on the stairs. It was cold, but not cold enough to bother with jackets.
"How are you holding up?" Logan asked, taking a sip of scotch Owen had poured him.
Owen shrugged. "The last two weeks at work were insane, didn't really leave me a lot of time to process, I guess," he sighed. It had in fact just begun to really register.
"Well - I know it's not the same, but it'll come and go, sometimes it just hits you out of the blue," Logan explained from experience. For him the trigger on occasion was the scent of her mother's perfume, if someone else wore it, that made him think of her. He'd hated that overpowering scent for years, but it still had that effect on him. A mother was still a mother, even if not a very good one.
"Everything good with you?" Owen asked, wanting to distract himself.
"Kids are good, Rory too - me… I'm just dealing with something at the company that's a little tricky. I hate being away from Rory and the kids," Logan explained, adding, "in London, that is," realizing he hadn't really shared this part of his life with him.
"You flew from London to be here?" Owen asked with surprise.
Logan smiled, "I felt like I should be here," not bothering to add that seeing Rory at the same time had been a pretty significant draw as well.
"Well, I'm grateful that you did," Owen replied, taking a large sip of his drink.
"Everything else okay with you? Charlotte?" Logan asked.
"So and so," he admitted. "She's feeling a little stuck here I suppose, I'm not really sure what she wants - but it's like now especially with Catherine gone, she has itchy feet. Like if we're not having kids, we should be doing something more than just settling for this simple life here," Owen explained. He wasn't sure whether Charlotte's changed way of thinking had anything to do with her finding out who he was related to, the sums involved, but he'd figured that was her right in a way either way.
"Well you could do anything you wanted really - go back to school or move, start over somewhere new," Logan discussed, knowing very well how starting over after difficult life events provided some comfort.
"Yeah - where? Study what?" Owen chuckled, not taking him too seriously, already being visibly drunk. He really didn't have a good sense of what he wanted out of his life now. He'd once returned to Portland just to be around his mother - so she wouldn't be all alone - but now with her gone - there was very little holding him there.
Logan left it at that, only patting his shoulder supportively. There was an idea forming in his head - but he wasn't quite sure how to piece everything together, as right now there were still significant chunks of the puzzle missing.
"I can take over if you want," Jess said as he arrived at the fourth floor lounge, seeing G feeding both of the twins, who were placed in a twin pillow on the floor, while Maya was making everybody dinner a few floors down. G was getting pretty good at all things 'baby' - in the past few months she'd gone from zero knowledge to this - being now perfectly capable of handling the two on her own if everything went according to plan - i.e no-one spit up their milk and needed a full cleaning right that instant.
"I'll finish this, they're almost done," G replied, not wanting to interrupt their feeding. She was running a little late already, but there were worse things than being fashionably late to a birthday party.
Jess sank into the sofa, letting his day wash away, having hurried a bit to get back in time - his signing having turned into a party later, he hadn't quite expected to last as long as it had. It was strange how he actually appreciated the smaller towns, smaller book stores more now, than the mass event his latest signing at Truncheon had been. Sure, it had been good to see all of his colleagues and acquaintances, but he didn't like the way Noah, who'd been running the event, had spoken of him. It was like the Truncheon had made him or something, and sure that would've been valid if it had been Matthew or Chris, the original founders of Truncheon, doing the talking but now if anything Truncheon New York had almost made him disappear. It had been the struggle towards breaking loose that had allowed him to return to his writing. But as he was pretty sure that was just the way Noah was - slick - trying to make humorous comments and pretend like they were best friends.
Noah really wasn't his best friend, quite far from it. All Noah had done to him that night in private was comment on how Celeste wasn't really holding up her end of the bargain by promoting their joint book in social media enough. Celeste's and Noah's book had even gotten a few decent reviews, but it wasn't really breaking even or anything. Jess felt like Noah with his tiny additions to the book were really just a tiny scratch on the whole book. The book really would've been nothing if it weren't for Celeste's drawings. He certainly wasn't going to urge Celeste to forcefully promote it, if she wasn't feeling it, feeling like he was putting her through enough as it was. Books failed all the time, it was not like this was the first. He'd tried to explain all this to Noah, reminding him what was the appropriate confuct as an editor in a situation like this. But still it had left a sour taste in his mouth. But he knew he just needed to let it go - besides, it was better that Noah said those things to him rather than to Celeste. He was her filter when it came to this.
Emma had already finished her bottle, a quicker eater as she was, and G knew she needed to be burped. But as her other hand was still holding Leigh's bottle, it was a little tricky.
"Hey, do you mind burping her," G asked, noting Jess had zoned out a bit.
"Sure," Jess reacted, rising to his feet and walked over, placing a burp cloth onto his shoulder and then lifted Emma up. He'd almost forgotten what holding a baby that age felt like, but it had a certain sentiment - recalling Evie at that age. He hadn't seen the twins since they were just a month old or so.
G observed Jess with Emma. Having watched and listened to Celeste speak about Jess - how they met and what it was like to meet someone who she knew was so right for her, she kept thinking whether there was something about men like Logan or Jess, that she should learn to recognize. She didn't look at him the way she sometimes had looked at Finn - but rather it was like looking at some life goal - what woman didn't want to have a smart, handsome man who really got them and was also good with children like he clearly was?
"What? Am I doing it wrong?" Jess chuckled.
"Oh, nothing. It's just that… after being at Celeste's it's like I know you a little, but only by stories," G replied, feeling a little embarrassed.
"All good I hope," he replied, doing quickly the math since the time G had been over at Celeste's to figure out whether that had been before or after she'd gotten angry at him.
"Uh-uh," she replied, wiping off the last of Leigh's milk which she'd decided to let spill out of her mouth. "Here you go," she said, raising Leigh to her own shoulder and stood up, and began stroking her back.
"Have you been to Stars Hollow before?" Jess tried to make casual conversation, feeling a little awkward, unable to come up with better discussion topics with a 16 year old.
"Only when I was little," G replied.
The next moment Leigh spit up a large burp of milk, most of it hitting the burp cloth but some getting on G's skin as well.
"Fu…," she wanted to curse but held her tongue around the babies. "Now I definitely have to shower again," she muttered, adding, "I'm going to a party tonight," she replied, explaining herself.
Jess handed her another burp cloth from the couch to tidy up. He couldn't really help himself - but he kept comparing G, especially as he saw her now, wearing a random T-shirt and a pair of sweats unlike how he'd seen her on occasion during the summer, to Doula and from there to the future image of Evie. When would his sweet little Evie say her first curse word, have her first unsupervised drink, first boyfriend? He had a feeling that knowing what teenage guys, like himself once, were like - he was fairly certain he wasn't exactly going to be a lenient dad.
"So what are high school parties like in New York these days?" Jess asked casually, actually being a little curious. Who knew in which of his books this knowledge could come in handy?
"It's just my friend Philippa's birthday, not really a school thing," G explained. "It's pretty casual - just a bunch of people from our class and some of her other friends," she added, feeling her phone buzz in her back pocket.
"Maya says food will be ready in 20," G read out the message for Jess.
Jess hadn't really counted on having Maya cook for him, but apparently that was Rory's instructions and he felt bad to refuse, even though walking over a few blocks to get takeaway from his favourite Cubanese place after the kids went to bed had been his original idea.
G had just showered, and was just finishing up blow drying her hair. She hadn't been out like this in months - and she was frankly getting a little sick of being the little grey mouse most of the time, deciding to go all out that night. Back in Boston she'd had a busy social calendar, and while tuning down had seemed like the adult thing to do, she needed to let loose for a change. Hence she straightened her hair and pulled it back with a few sleek hairpins and spent a good 40 minutes on her dark-toned makeup that stood out against her pale skin and blonde hair.
She tried on a couple of different outfits, essentially choosing between a black lacy crop top that showed off her bra with high-waist black jeans or a off-shoulder beige glitter mini dress. While she liked the dress more, she took the more practical route that evening, not being a huge fan of tights. With a perfect pair of red ankle books, she could rock that black outfit just the same.
G added a dash of perfume, and a pair of dangling gold earrings and a large bangle bracelet in gold and black. She looked like a completely different person.
She checked her phone, noting a message from Celeste.
"Hi, I have a favor to ask," it said, with a pleading emoji after it.
"Ask," she typed back.
"Can I call?" she typed back, Evie demanding her attention, not really allowing her to type properly.
"Ok," she typed back.
Celeste called and G answered.
"Listen, have you ever sold anything on Ebay? Like an auction?" Celeste asked.
"A while ago. Some designer clothes," she replied.
"Perfect," Celeste replied. "Do you think you'd feel up to doing something like that for me? I have some dresses that are about your size and I'd need you to take a few photos of them. I know it's weird to ask, but I need to free some funds for the opening quickly and it was the best I could think of without borrowing the money," Celeste explained honestly.
G was just about to ask why she couldn't sell them herself, after all it wasn't like they needed necessarily to be modelled for the photos, underestimating the types of dresses Celeste was talking about. After all, G didn't know her full story, having been too young to care when it had been topical in their family and the press.
"Ok," she typed quickly as she got distracted by another text from Philippa, who was asking what she was wearing and she snapped a quick photo of herself in the mirror, sending it to her.
"April will bring the dresses over tomorrow, they should have labels on them - start them off around 200 dollars or something and if you need any other details just call me, okay?" Celeste instructed, trusting the teenager probably knew what to do once she saw the dresses. "And I can give you a cut if you want, for handling the sales. I just don't think I could really sell them from where I am," she explained. New York was definitely the location to sell them in, hoping to get close to five figures for some of them. She knew that trusting G with them was a little risky too, but she figured once Rory returned she could have her keep an eye on things as well. But this had just seemed just the type of thing that G might actually like, hence she decided to give it a go. Besides, it wasn't like G wasn't used to handling sums like that.
"Sure, it's no problem," she replied back. How hard could it be?
G took a deep breath, grabbed her oversized down jacket and cross-body bag and decided to take the elevator down this time considering the 3.5 inch heels she was wearing. It took her a lot of willpower to not think of Finn whenever she took the elevator.
"Casual, eh?" Jess noted with a straight face, noting her outfit, which clearly had aged the girl by several years, in between his bites as he saw her come into the kitchen. To him she still looked like a teenager, just the kind that was trying too hard, but he had to admit she did a pretty convincing job at trying to be years older.
G shrugged, smiling friendlily, appreciating Jess noticing the effort she'd put into it. G noticed Maya muttering something under her breath, rolling eyes at what she was wearing but it was not like she really cared about her opinion. Maya wasn't her nanny after all.
G didn't bother with a full meal, only grabbing a few bites of cheese, fruit and a glass of water, that having been her mother's got to snack before heading out for the evening - to keep one full until they found a place they liked for dinner. There were going to be snacks at the party, but she had a feeling that the car ride over to Lenox Hill was going to take a while with the Saturday evening traffic.
"Don't wait up," G said as she slid out the kitchen, leaving Maya shaking her head disapprovingly.