"So what did your boss want?" Finn inquired casually as he called Charlie late on Monday evening, liking the tradition of talking to her before going to bed on most days. Charlie had simply briefly texted last night, having been a too tired, but that was more like an exception than a rule in their case.
Having heard that Charlie was invited to a dinner-meeting with his soon-to-be former boss, Finn had become increasingly curious of the man in question. Not only was he curious about what he wanted to talk to her about, but Finn was also a little intrigued by the place, the Ferreira, and the man himself, having spent an hour googling the man. He didn't really doubt Charlie, but he was a little jealous - the man definitely had that sexy and wealthy lawyer look to him which was the type he really preferred her to not dine with in such settings which could've been viewed as romantic. He wasn't used to feeling like this because of any girl, and he really wasn't very sure if showing that side of him was a good thing, hence he'd tried to hide these insecurities from Charlie.
"Umm..," Charlie began, sounding a little unsure.
"You can tell me, come on…" Finn urged, becoming increasingly curious. What if something had indeed happened? - he thought, then scolded himself with a mental slap to the back of his head.
"He kind of made me an offer. But it doesn't matter - I'm not going to take it," Charlie said, trying to dismiss the subject. It was funny, how Charlie actually had a bit of an Australian accent these days, having been immersed in that environment for a year and with Finn often reflecting a little the way he spoke.
"What kind of offer? Really - I want to know," Finn inquired, almost pleadingly. Curiosity was killing him, but a second later added, "I need to know what you are giving up," nearly adding 'for me'. While he was technically over the moon for not having to move, he was still willing to do it if that's what it would take to be with her.
"One of the partners passed away a few months ago. He was an old guy so…," Charlie explained, as if it was expected. "And Liam said I'd be on the short track to become a partner if I stuck around. Two years - he said," Charlie said with a sigh. She spoke calmly, rather like telling a story, without the excitement that most people would've felt at that moment.
For a moment Finn wasn't sure whether to congratulate her, cry or curse faith - if there was such a thing. But the way Charlie looked at him on video, almost as if anticipating his reaction and not showing any signs of tears, which he would've expected if that was that call, made him respond rather differently.
"Fuck…, that sucks, I'm sorry," Finn said, realizing that she wasn't taking it, and begun feeling incredibly guilty having made her choose between her career and him.
"No, it's fine, it doesn't even suck - honestly. The minute he said it I knew I was going to say 'no'," Charlie explained, recalling how shocked her boss had been at those words last night. "I should've felt something towards that offer, some interest, a draw - but I didn't," she added, sounding almost relieved. "This is good - this is proof that it's not the field I want to continue in… I did a few small things for them last week and really - there is no draw, it's gone. I was happier shoveling shit at the Ostrich farm," Charlie added with a chuckle.
"Alright," Finn sighed, feeling a little relieved but still guilty. While money wasn't an issue for him, it might have been for her - it was a lot of money probably that she was giving up. "But I don't think there are a lot of Ostrich farms in Manhattan looking for your services, love," he added, hoping they could disperse the guilt with some laughter.
"You know, I was actually thinking…," Charlie exhaled as if hesitating. "I think I might want to go do a few courses at one of the universities. And I mean I'd still do the internships too," she continued, sounding almost apologetic.
"That's fine, I told you that.., The internship is just a smokescreen really, you know what," Finn assured.
"But it just means that I'm going to be shopping around for a bit, I'm not really sure what it is that I want just yet," Charlie replied, sounding a little worried.
"Yeah, but why the worried look?" Finn inquired, feeling a little confused.
"You know how I don't like living on your expense, but if I take classes that'd pretty much take my income from the apartment here," she said, referring to renting out her apartment in Montreal.
"You know I don't care about that, right?" Finn tried to assure her. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation.
"I know, you've said it but I just don't like it - it makes me feel…. Ugh… I can't even say it," Charlie grumbled, and Finn had a pretty good idea of what she meant.
"We don't have to tell anyone - if that's what you're worried about," Finn suggested. Charlie had mentioned once before that one things that she truly was a little scared about was what his friends thought of her. She didn't want to appear like someone after his money.
"Or maybe I should just try to sell my place instead of renting it? Pay for classes with that," Charlie suggested, adding, "I just really don't want to ask my dad for money," she added. She had savings too, Finn knew it - but she was pretty cautious about dipping into those as it was.
"No, come on - there's no need for that," Finn continued. Finn didn't want her giving up everything. He wasn't brave enough to let her do that to be frank - he had no idea if he could do this in the long run, but he was taking the plunge head first. But he just didn't want her giving up everything she had for the move. He felt bad for thinking it, but it made him feel a little lighter that she had a place to go if things went sour. He bit his own tongue as that thought - he wasn't sure if he'd survive that no matter what backups she had.
"I just don't want this to become like this thing that keeps bugging me and then soon enough it'll become a thing that starts coming up in fights and so on," Charlie said, expressively. She did sound genuinely worried, as if speaking out of experience. She did - her ex had supported her during a part of her studies when her dad hadn't been doing too well financially, and it had cause all sorts of issues.
"It won't, I promise," Finn pleaded.
"Maybe I can find some other job…," she suggested.
Finn did understand it. New York wasn't exactly the place to come and aimlessly wander without a plan - sure, people did it, but those generally didn't attempt to go to college at the same time. She'd explained it before - it was about pride, about not leaning on a man, but he really didn't know what to do about it.
"I can't stop you from working if that's what you want to do. We can surely find you something temporary at the hotels if that's what you feel you need to do. But you really don't have to do that, I promise," Finn said. "Just don't think of this right now - alright? Let's get settled and see. Things will sort themselves out," Finn reassured her. He just didn't want this type of worries shadowing the joy they should be feeling right now on the verge of being together again and taking this new step in their relationship. "Besides, my friend Rory just graduated NYU, maybe she'll have some ideas of what are worth pursuing in her department for example," Finn suggested, optimistically, just wanting her to focus on the positives. On second though she also considered Rory might be a really good person to talk to about this, maybe even for Charlie to talk to - as she had been dealing with a much similar issue of marrying into a wealthy family.
Several days later Rory still stared at Logan's text. She could read the 'Thank you' in his text out in a half a dozen intonations - from genuine to near mocking. She didn't think he would actually mock her, but the horrible thing was that she could imagine it. She wasn't sure if it did hold some amount of resentment just like she'd struggled saying 'I don't hate it'. Was he equally hurt about that? Rory wasn't very proud of how she'd put her own text as well - whether it was the tiredness of the day or her desperateness at that hour that had made her send that - she couldn't tell and now it didn't really matter anymore - it had been sent already.
Either way it was becoming very clear to her that the format of texting really wasn't working for them. Not when it was about serious things like this. So in a way she'd stopped trying - hoping they could just postpone the talk until he was back, almost fearing she'd make things worse.
It wasn't that they hadn't spoken on the phone since then - Logan always made time, usually during his lunch, to call the kids just as they'd woken and the casual exchange of information about what was going on on both sides did take place. But in the evenings Logan did his best to get large chunks of work off his table so he could actually begin to think about booking his flight back - and Rory really couldn't argue with that, hence there were no calls. And as Rory had begun to avoid texting the silence lingered. Rory began to resent the distance - it wasn't just inconvenient - she blamed the distance for the damage, needing something to blame.
As Finny had now started his daycare again, at least a couple of days a week, having for significant stretches of time stayed home and hung out with Rory, Maya and the twins instead, Rory's days were looking more and more empty which one could say was a positive. She filled these days with going over Jess' book, which she only figured would be a few more weeks until done, spending quality time with the twins trying to distract herself and reading. She wasn't, however, neck deep in fiction or even educational research which she'd planned on doing eventually as freelance.
Rory had begun reading about anything that could help her relationship with Logan. She read about methods they could try to reconnect, what things to learn together or experiment with, how they should find ways to pay more attention to each other again. She also read about the keywords Logan kept mentioning - about control-seeking, the potential PTSD of the mugging, the survivalist part Rory could detect from his mention of plan B, while that all just seemed too far out there for Logan, and even about the effects of parenthood on a relationship. The latter seemed almost too ridiculous - they'd done this before - none of this should've been news to them. But what was true was that with three kids they had been stretched thin even with all the help money could buy. She herself constantly felt like the three weren't getting enough of her, hence her decision to try to stay home a while longer, and Logan was probably feeling even worse.
They were stretched thin on a lot of things - forced to choose between their hobbies - what hobbies? - careers, even friends to some extent. They desperately needed their alone time and alone time as a couple that Logan had promised her once he returned - like every source she read suggested too. It wasn't that they couldn't have those things - it was that she didn't feel like they deserved to have those things, having as much help as they did. She should've felt fully rested and fulfilled, but there was constant guilt and fear of turning into the likes of Shira. Even the decision to stay home longer hadn't helped that.
Rory wished Logan would write what he promised - some explanation to why he was so driven to do the things he was doing. Why did he choose this way to do this? Why now? Why so fast? She didn't want to have the reaction of not knowing him which presented itself in the form of fear of the unknown - she wanted to find the Logan she loved within it, to see that Logan's person hadn't gone anywhere. But that e-mail, or letter, in whichever format he'd planned to send it, was nowhere.
After a couple of days of holding off, she just felt that her silence could be interpreted wrong. She was out of words, or perhaps even afraid of her words that might ruin things, so she did something else. She needed to explain to Logan in as few words as possible what she was thinking and doing.
The cardboard box, no larger than a shoe box, now stood in front of her on her study desk, and she was brainstorming what to include. Logan used to send these to her, and she to him, when they'd done long distance while she was in college and Logan in London for the first time. If nothing else the packages would cheer them up - let him know that she cared and had thought of him, that she wasn't giving up.
She'd already packed a couple of printed photos, one from their time in college - the Jolly Good Felon Party to be exact and another one, a selfie from London, the two of them dining at the top of the Shard overlooking the City during the first time she'd visited him in London after they'd ran into each other in Hamburg - at that point things had still been uncomplicated as two singles and just being in the same space together had felt incredibly comforting. The third photo was of them with all of the three kids, the babies just being barely out of the NICU in their parlor. Logan of course had many of these pictures on his phone - but this was a gesture which didn't aim to be practical.
Rory had also included Logan's favourite protein bars he liked to eat after running, which she knew they didn't have in London, his leather gloves that he'd forgotten to bring, and one item which she'd struggled the most on - a pair of her lace panties in hope that it'd be percieved as sexy. But she had to admit that she felt very self conscious about the latter - she'd thought about a sexy photograph or perhaps even taking this several steps forward by adding some sort of a hinting sex toy, sprucing things up, but with being so unsure of where his mind was, she just didn't dare to. And she was perfecly aware of how silly that was.
What she did include was a list of everything she'd found out while reading titled 'Things we should try' without hiding the fact that they needed to work on them, making it sure he knew she was willing to work on them. Finally she added a post-it on top. "I love you. I miss us," it said. And before she allowed her the time to risk reconsidering, thinking it was perhaps childish, silly or too desperate - she taped the box shut.
"So, this is it," G said to Philippa as she was opening the front door of the townhouse. "Now, some ground rules - and it's not that I don't trust you, it's just I promised to brief you on the house rules," she sighed, apologetically, and continued to explain to Philippa the no-photo and off-limits rooms of the house, the rules she'd agreed to with Rory last week. Philippa didn't really know of her connection to the Huntzberger family, not that a 17 year old really knew a lot about them, but it was just a name that may have sound familiar or one might know Logan's face as that of a celebrity without knowing the name, and G was pretty sure it's cause some sort of a reaction which she wasn't eager to cause, hoping to keep a low profile at school.
"It's a nice place," Philippa said, as she glanced over the grand parlor with tall windows looking into the wintery courtyard. The parlor itself was at the moment more messy than grand, a bunch of the kids' toys laying around. Tidying up wasn't Rory's priority right now, and even G could tell she wasn't feeling too great emotionally. She'd tried her best to be there for her, keep her distracted by hanging out with her a lot in the evenings and playing with the kids - she really didn't mind.
They hung up their coats downstairs and G guided Philippa to the elevator. "Top floor," she explained, and continued to tell her about the time she'd been stuck in there. They'd come straight from school and gone by a convenience store to stock up on snacks and grabbed some take away. G felt surprisingly nervous bringing someone over - it was odd, having delayed it for this long. It wasn't like she never did that back in Boston, quite on the contrary, Amelia had been over at her place pretty much every other day. But in New York all that had just been different.
"Welcome to my humble lodgings," G announced as the elevator doors opened at her floor, with a hint of sarcasm. There wasn't much about the place that was humble - velvet, gold accessories and a lot of mirror surfaces, brave abstract artwork, accompanied by the latest tech.
"Oh come on, this is amazing," Philippa exclaimed. Her jaw dropped, as she took in the dark green interior and the salmon pink kitchen nook which she'd barely ever used for more than keeping her drinks cool or storing her personal takeaway as she mostly ate meals downstairs with the others these days. "I love this couch," she commented as she landed onto the curved light pink couch which was way too big for just a couple of people. G felt a very spoiled at that moment, having not really anticipated feeling it this strongly. She'd always imagine how cool it would be to show off this place to someone, someday - maybe having a party, but now she just felt like she was a showoff. It was just a sign of how much she'd grown within a half a year, even if she was too immature to really recognize that.
"It's really just hush money," G replied laughingly, deciding to turn it into a joke much rather. It wasn't really that, but lacking any better idea she'd said it. She had begged for this, and this had definitely cost her father a small fortune. But she had definitely played on her father's guilt too, and he'd far too easily relented.
"Still - I love this place." Philppa said, and got up from the couch, gesturing towards her bedroom as if asking if she could look.
"Oh yeah, this floor - feel free to explore. There's a rooftop balcony over there and a separate sunroom we haven't really used much," G explained.
"Well… still this place is amazing. I wish I lived here," Philippa commented approvingly. "Mind if I move in?" she joked. G knew that Philippa lived with her parents, and her place really wasn't shabby at all, it was just a typical childhood home - safely and anonymously white and light beige with contrasting dark wood.
"If I didn't have my sister living downstairs, it wouldn't be this much fun really - it gets lonely up here all by myself," G replied, admitting that it wasn't as fun as it looked.
"If I had a place like this, I'd have people over all the time. And I bet you…," she began, hesitating hot to put it so she wouldn't take it the wrong way. "I bet you've had some hot guys up here," she added. G had always struck Philippa as someone who knew how to have fun with guys, though she had to admit, other than her own brother she didn't know about them, except for the older mystery man G had mentioned once or twice. It was the image she'd created, speaking often as if being very experienced, which G no doubt was, but all that image really was had been a defence mechanism of sorts. All those flirts had been just surperficial.
"Not one, believe it or not," G admitted, quietly, raising the corner of her mouth.
"Really?!" Philippa exclaimed in surprise, as she watched G unpack the content of the take out bag on the coffee table.
"Really," G assured, calmly.
"Not even Brody?" Philippa asked. "I meant - not that a I want to picture that, but I thought you hung out quite a bit with him," she added, having gotten that impresson from her brother.
"Not even Brody," G replied, shaking her head, adding, "the age thing - my sister wouldn't allow it, not until my birthday," explaining the reasoning. "But can we just not talk about him tonight?" G added, really not wanting to recall that night when she'd ended up in tears in his stairway. Still, mentioning him reminded her that she probably owed him a 'thank you'.
"Your sister sounds pretty cool though," Philippa commented, and opened up a mojito mocktail. They weren't planning on drinking tonight, it was a school night, but if it got to it, G had a small bar cabinet - money made a lot of things attainable.
"She is," G replied. "I haven't really known her all that well until now really. I mean, we would, like, see each other maybe a couple of times a year, once a year, for years - but she was kind enough to take me in so I wouldn't have to go to a boarding school," G explained.
"Wow," Philippa exhaled in passing, sounding impressed. She knew generally that G's sister was twice her age and that she only was her half sister.
A small pause followed, and G dug into the sushi she'd bought, offering the other box to Philippa.
"So what are we watching?" Philippa inquired, and bit into a Alaska roll.
"I was thinking 'Always Be My Maybe'... or we also have 'the Breakfast Club'... but basically anything," she said, flipping through the movie selection on the screen. Honestly, G was surprisingly nervous, almost as if having forgotten what it was like to let her guard down and stop thinking about what Philippa was thinking of her and of her place. It was almost like a friend date.
"I've heard 'the Breakfast Club' mentioned a lot, but I've never actually seen it," Philippa said. G had, but it was one of her favourites she would gladly rewatch it whenever - the side effect of living with Rory.
The two ate and watched the movie, on occasion commenting on it a bit. G was relaxing noticeably and that's what this was - simple, innocent and harmless fun. They talked a little about school, and their holidays, which G was a little curt about, but she mostly made it sound like that was because of the transportation strike in Paris.
"Guess what?" Philippa asked after a while.
"What?" G asked, with a shrug.
"I think I'm going to ask Zach out," Philippa shared, referring to a guy in their class. The guy was sort of the quiet one in their class, but definitely not bad looking.
"I can definitely see that - he's got a bit of that mystery guy thing going on," G reflected, trying to be supportive. The guy had never really been on her radar, she hadn't thought about him in that way. He seemed too much like a boy to her, but Philippa was actually quite similar in that sense, not so much trying to appear older as perhaps G was.
"Have you guys texted or..?" G inquired. She had missed this type of simple girl talk.
"Nope. He's so quiet, but I've caught him looking a few times, and then we were lab partners at psych the other day," Philippa explained, and continued to retell G about their interactions. They talked a little about how she should ask him, most of these types of things in their world beginning with texting and a very safe 'you want to hang out?' but he didn't really seem like the type.
G could tell Philippa was excited, and she actually felt a little envious of that. While Philippa spoke, sounding nervous about actually doing it, G's mind trailed off a bit. G knew she wasn't ready to start looking for anyone serious - she wasn't sure she'd be ready to really differentiate between actually liking someone and wanting subconsciously their approval of sorts. But she did set that as a goal. She wanted to find someone who was real - but she knew that she needed to fix herself first.