AN: Sorry, shorter chapter today. It was that or nothing today.. but I think a short breether was needed until we get on with Celeste's stuff anyways. We're having a heatwave where I am at and it's so difficult to write in this weather, honestly - my laptop feels like it's running a fever :)
After Rory had put the kids to bed, Celeste and Jess had retired to their rooms upstairs on Jess' request, knowing that Celeste really needed her strength if she was going to actually see her mother the next day. So far - that was the plan. If nothing else she just wanted to ask what she wanted and preferably find a way to tell her to get lost. Though staying in New York on the whole had needed a fair amount of persuasion, Celeste being worried more about Evie than she let on, finding all sorts of other reasons for going home. But in the end she'd relented, having called Lorelai for the second time that evening to calm her nerves.
Rory remained in the parlor waiting for G. And really, if one simply looked at the time, she really didn't have to wait very long, it just felt like hours.
G clearly hadn't wanted to make a lot of noise, perhaps even sneak in undetected altogether, as Rory heard her press in the door code, having not brought her keys, and open the door as quietly as she could. Rory wanted to scold her for going off like that, but as she approached her in the foyer, all she really managed was wrapping her arms around her and hugging her.
G just stood, and it took her a few minutes to actually relent and hug back. She needed it, but she was still angry.
"I was so worried," Rory whispered. "I know you're tired, but please - let's talk, a little at least," she insisted, checking over her little sister as if looking for wounds. She was feeling very motherly towards her right then, brushing her hair behind her ears and definitely noticing the puffiness around her eyes. There was no doubt she'd been crying.
"I heard you and Celeste talking down here," G disclosed.
That certainly caught Rory by surprise, almost making her want to hit herself as she recalled what they'd talked about.
"Did you hear all of it?" Rory asked, as she led her towards the couch in the parlor. They sat down, Rory keeping her arm around her back.
G nodded. "I hear enough," she said.
"Oh G, I'm sorry," Rory replied. "We're novices at this thing - we try to do the best but we're not equipped to know how to handle someone like you. We, I, try to think like a parent would - but clearly my skills are still at the toddler stage," she added, apologetically.
"I'm not really mad at you - well a little, I guess. I don't like people talking behind my back, knowing more about my life than I do. You're treating me like I'm a kid, but that's not what I am," G explained, reminding Rory once again that deep inside her there was still just a teenager.
"So you're mad at Celeste?" Rory asked.
"And Finn," she added.
Rory let out a puff of air.
"I almost called Finn myself to give him an earful, you know. But.. I honestly don't think it would really make much of a difference now. But for what it's worth I think that they both tried to do what they thought was the right thing. I know it might seem like belittling the issue or treating you as a child or something - but they were both trying to spare your feelings," Rory explained. "Like maybe if you hated him, it'd be easier not to miss him?" she suggested, hoping she would at least try to see their side of this.
G took a deep breath, clearly fighting her tears.
"I promised I wouldn't cry more tonight," G said, looking up. Rory stroked her upper arm supportively.
"How about we go to bed? You can come sleep with me if you want. I don't really want you to be alone tonight," Rory suggested.
G didn't reply, but didn't object either. She just wanted to sleep, forget. She followed Rory upstairs and by simply shoving off her sneakers and leggings climbed into Rory's bed without comment.
Rory held her as she fell asleep, trying to recall herself how not knowing Jess' reasons for leaving, years ago, had actually helped her at the time. She'd been confused, but knowing he left for some selfish reasons instead of his unwillingness to face her and being afraid of his emotions on top of his own practical reasons, had in fact made it easier to get past him. In that sense she perfectly understood Finn's reasoning. But now, especially knowing Finn was living his own life right now, all she wanted was to help G get back on her feet. It was unfair. She couldn't just let her linger in her grief, she needed to really be there - be better than her father could be.
"My grandfather and I used to go swimming in the ocean each morning. Well it wasn't really swimming-swimming, just dipping into the ocean and doing a few strokes. We'd compete to see who would last the longest," Charlie shared as she lingered in bed next to Finn, both loosely wrapped in a bed sheet, observing the pattern on his palm at the same time. With Sylvie having taken the kids somewhere, they hadn't really hurried with getting out of bed that morning and they'd spent the morning talking about their childhoods.
"Like endurance wise?" Finn asked in confusion. She really didn't seem like the endurance swimmer type, despite having good strength in her arms.
"No!" Charlie laughed. "Until it got too cold. He sometimes made it all the way until December, until the wind got bad," she explained.
"You're quite the ice-queen, aren't you?" Finn teased, recalling her experience for cold-water surfing.
"Hey - I made the best of what I had," she added in her defense, laughingly. "It doesn't mean I don't appreciate the warmth," she replied, snuggling to his side even more closely, her head now resting on his shoulder.
Finn's arm held her, his fingers gently tracing her shoulder.
"You know, you look like you've been to a war," Charlie noted, her fingers tracing one of scars that was now partially covered with the tiny, no more than an inch-size, umbrella tattoo. The symbolisom in it he'd briefly explained to Charlie already - that it stood for one of the stunts he'd done with his friends, that it was an inside joke, not actually mentioning the Life and Death Brigade, which she hadn't really questioned.
"Definitely not war, just everything reckless and stupid. Fun thought," Finn admitted, like it was the most natural thing. "This one is his from a misfortunate ziplining incident in Costa Rica, this one is from just plain old surfing in Maui... I think, drunken bar fight in New Haven, grazed by a bull in Pamplona, a five-inch stiletto heel, and this one is from hitting some rocks during the Gloucester Cheese Rolling competition," he described, pointing out various scars on his body.
"I think I've heard of that one.., always tried to imagine what kind of people actually did that," Charlie chuckled.
"Well this kind," Finn replied proudly. "This one is from hitting a metal rod when I was jet skiing around a shipwreck we weren't supposed to. The doctor's said that I'd hit it with the perfect angle - half an inch in either direction, or depth, I would've bled out probably before I got to them," he continued, commenting on the one he'd had the umbrella tattooed on. It had been a holiday they'd taken a few months after Rory's Yale graduation, when Logan had been at his worst - almost trying to get killed. But Finn getting hurt had actually brought Logan to his senses a little.
Charlie's lips brushed the scar in question, caringly. "It sounds like you've sure tried it all," she commented after a few seconds.
"Well, if I've missed something it's not for the lack of trying," Finn replied with a chuckle.
"So what haven't you tried? I'm sure there must be something," Charlie said as she turned, propping herself up on her elbows to face him.
"Well…," Finn pondered, briefly simply wanting to make a joke out of it - kiss her, make love to her, forget all about it. But the way she looked at him just made him feel like he couldn't just fool her. "Well… I haven't really been serious about anything - not about school, work, relationships..," he admitted. He'd been wondering for a while how to actually tell her what his past relationships had been like, not to outright say that he was really known as quite the libertine. He had a good idea that she knew, or well she assumed, but they hadn't really spoken about his past relationships at all.
"Why do you think that is?" Charlie asked, surprising him. He'd almost expected her to grab a hold of his last word and ask about that instead.
"God, you're really asking the hard questions. Aren't you, love?" Finn chuckled. "I don't really know to be honest…," he admitted more seriously.
"Alright, maybe this is easier - what would happen if you took things seriously?" Charlie inquired
"I'd have to take responsibility for my decisions I suppose," he replied after a moment's thought. "I've just been able to float by - have other people make my decisions, be guided by the world and the circumstances. I've just done what was easy," he explained.
"And with relationships - what, are you seriously saying you've never had a serious relationship before?" Charlie asked the question Finn had been the most worried about.
"Define serious," he asked with some hesitation.
"I think I've had the teenage version of this conversation once..," she laughed. "Alright, what would the adult equivalent of going all the way be.." she pondered. "Well I don't think you've ever been married or engaged, right?" she made a safe bet.
"I definitely have not," he replied, his reply coming out perhaps a little too lightly, like it was something ridiculous. The truth was he simply couldn't imagine himself doing it, but as it was Charlie he was talking to, as he'd said it, he desperately hoped she wouldn't take this the wrong way.
"Have you ever lived together with anyone?" Charlie asked.
"I've cohabitated - a couple of weeks on holiday, weekends, but not to the stage of anyone actually moving in. One girl did have a key at some point and half a drawer," he recalled.
"Hmm…," she pondered, trying to think of what would be one step lower than that. "So what's the longest you've had someone as your exclusive girlfriend," she asked.
"A month?" he said, squinting his eyes. "Unexclucive ones I've had a few longer than that," he added, as if that was better somehow.
"Well if this had been the first date, that'd definitely raise some caution," Charlie notes, changing positions to sit her back against the headboard, her knees raised up.
"That's why I don't usually dare to bring it up," Finn explained, observing her carefully.
"So is it fear of commitment? Trust issues? Not wanting to be dependent?" Charlie listed, making some pretty good points.
"I don't think it's a fear of commitment - I've only had good role models in that department. Just look at mum and dad," Finn replied, though she really didn't know them that well yet. Sure, he'd seen his friend's parents get divorced left and right, but he hadn't really paid enough attention to be traumatized by something like that. "Trust - I guess… but it's both ways - lack of trust in myself to not blow it and the struggle of trusting the other enough to know they are in it for me not for money or something else... And I won't lie - I have always loved my freedom - being able to go wherever I want, whenever I want," he explained, honestly.
"Do you trust me?" Charlie asked, for a moment turning serious. "I can show you my bank statement, if that'll help - it's really not the money. I may not have yachts and fancy New York penthouses but I'm not poorly off, really," she added humorously, beginning to regret she'd asked the question.
Finn's heart ached, seeing her worry like that.
"I think I trust you more than I've trusted anyone I've been with… but I think it's just to do with the fact that we haven't known each other very long. I don't think you'd be doing it for the money - you don't seem like the type. But I guess just... There's still room for the trust to develop," he confessed, hoping she would understand this as a normal process and not take offence.
"I'm glad you said that, actually," Charlie said, making him sigh in relief, and for a second he actually felt a little gutted himself. Did she trust him? For the first time he wanted her to trust him.
"Admitting I had feelings for you was hard for me. After everything that happened with Greg...," she began, looking up, clearly struggling a little. "I'm putting my trust in you, but it doesn't mean I am not scared. I'm not convinced I won't get my heart broken. I know we have skillfully avoided the topic but we both know that essentially we're on a deadline here. And I know - it'd be so easy to just keep doing what we're doing, having fun and enjoying ourselves and ignoring the fact, but once the heart is involved it's like waiting for the guillotine to drop," she disclosed, having pulled herself together.
"Well… I can't make any promises yet. But I know I don't like seeing you like this. My intentions are good. I don't want to hurt you, I truly hope I don't," Finn said. "But I do hope the time that we have, before it's time for difficult decisions, is one that we can enjoy. For the first time I truly want to see if I can build that trust, both in you and myself," he confessed.
She leaned down to kiss him, holding his chin. If nothing else, they had the intent to try.
"Where do we start?" she asked.