Author's Note: Originally this story started off as one shot, "Anchors". Then I realized that I had more story to tell. A better title is "An Alternative Year in the Life".

Chapter 2

(June 2007)

Rory's fingers flew over the keyboard as she worked on her article. The words were coming to her faster than she could type so it was riddled with spelling and grammar errors. She'd have to check it carefully later. She loved this feeling of being in the zone – so caught up in writing that the words just poured out of her.

Being part of Obama's press tour was even more thrilling than she'd anticipated. While spending extended time on buses, short assignment deadlines, and a different hotel room practically every night would get old quickly, it was amazing being part of something real. No longer was she covering the election of student body president or some local city councilman, she was working with a United States senator that was running for the President of the United States. She was witnessing events that could impact the future of the country.

Getting to know the other reporters on the tour was challenging. There were several young idealist college graduates, like herself, eager and excited to be there. Of course, she already knew all of them by name and had their numbers in her phone. Many of the older, more seasoned reporters tended to stick with each other. In their exclusive groups, they made no effort to lower their voices as they openly scoffed at their inexperienced colleagues. Yet there were also others on the tour who were friendly and eager to give advice.

While Rory interacted with all the reporters who were her age, she'd also made an effort to spend time with more experienced ones so she could learn from them. Being so close to her mother, she tended to be very comfortable with older women. She'd jumped at the chance to room with Anna, a tall brunette in her thirties with a no-nonsense attitude who had published articles in The Atlantic and The Chicago Tribune. A Chicago native, she knew how to handle herself. She'd already been encouraging Rory to stop being so polite. There were times she needed to interrupt others in order to get information. It was part of the job.

Rory was thrilled to have an unofficial mentor.

Suddenly, a strong wave of nausea hit her. Rory shoved aside her laptop computer and dashed across the hotel room, practically tripping over her suitcase which was lying open on the floor, to reach the bathroom in time. Minutes later when she emerged, Anna called over from across the room.

"So…when are you due?"

Rory tried to downplay it, though her cheeks started to grow warm. "What do you mean?" She hoped the older woman wasn't disappointed in her.

Anna sat up on her bed. "C'mon, I have two kids. I know the signs. We haven't been on the bus for the past two days yet you're still throwing up. At the bar, you only drink tonic water. And last night you could barely keep your eyes open past nine-thirty. Give me some credit here. I am a reporter."

Rory sank onto her own bed, pulling a pillow towards her and hugging it, as if to conceal the evidence. "January tenth."

"Damn. Guess if Obama makes it all the way, you won't be here for the long haul."

Before Anna could ask more questions that she didn't want to address, Rory asked, "How old are your kids?"

"Four and six."

Rory was surprised. While Anna was in her thirties, she had a trim figure. She drank like a guy. She was extremely knowledgeable about current events and had lots of contacts in the press. And while she wore a wedding ring, she'd never talked about her children.

"How do you do it?"

"My husband and I have a deal. We take turns with work opportunities. This press tour could be a long gig. But this is huge."

Rory felt the same way. A familiar pang of frustration and regret rose within her. She didn't want to give this up. She'd only just started her reporting career. She was loving this job. It wasn't fair.

Perched on the edge of the bed, Anna said, "I love my kids. But I didn't work my ass off at Harvard to stay home and wipe noses and make Halloween costumes. It's just not me. My husband knows that."

Rory hoped she wasn't prying but she needed more details. These were issues she might soon be facing. "But how do you coordinate being away so much? We don't just work nine-to-five."

"That's right. Steve's a trial lawyer. He makes good money that helps with decent childcare, but he works long hours too. If he's working on a high-profile case, he's gone as much as we are. If I'm out of town for more than a couple days, he doesn't work on those cases.

"We tried day care. We tried a live-in nanny. Eventually we bought a house next door to my mom's. Now she's our childcare. Don't get me wrong, there are things she does that drive me nuts. But I trust her. And she loves them. That's what's most important."

Rory liked the sound of that. But it wouldn't be a viable option for her. While she knew Lorelai would help her in any way, her mother had responsibilities with her own job. And Rory's job options would be limited if she lived in Stars Hollow.

"Isn't it hard being away from your kids?"

Anna met Rory's gaze. Sensing the younger girl's inner struggle, she answered as honestly as she could. "Yeah, of course it is. It hurts when you finally have time to spend with your kids and they want to stay with grandma because they don't really know you. I call them every day that I'm on the road but it's just not the same. Especially when they're young.

"I try not to dwell on it. I wouldn't be a very good mother if I was home with them. I'm not the nurturing type. I kill plants and fish. I'm a lousy cook. I'd feel like part of me had died and that I was living like half a person if I couldn't pursue my career."

Leaning towards Rory, she asked, "What are you doing to do?"

Rory was horrified that tears were welling up in her eyes. She blamed the pregnancy hormones. She tried to discretely wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. She'd so badly wanted this issue settled before leaving Stars Hollow. She'd made a pros and cons list. She'd gone to bed, reaching a decision, only to wake up changing her mind. With the press tour leaving within a day, there just hadn't been enough time. Then she'd gotten thrown into the new job and she'd been scrambling to learn new routines and responsibilities. So many changes all at once. So many names to remember and researching to do. It was overwhelming.

Now three weeks had passed, and she still hadn't settled on a decision.

Whatever you decide, you need to tell Logan as soon as possible.

Her mother was right. And she wanted to tell him. She just had to decide what she wanted first.

"If you want out, it's only going to get harder the longer you wait."

"I know, I know." Rory murmured, staring at the loud green print of the hotel bedspread.

Maybe that was an option. Ever since she learned she was pregnant, she felt like she couldn't breathe. She was finally getting a chance to explore the world, only to have the gate slammed shut. If she had this baby, she'd never experience this freedom again. She was only twenty-two years old. Wasn't she supposed to be visiting exotic places, meeting exciting people, building her skills and contacts in her profession? These opportunities might never come again.

Did she really want to have this baby?

She gagged as another wave of nausea hit then passed.

Anna rose. "Let me get you a ginger ale. That always helped me."

Rory leaned over the bed towards her purse, but Anna waved her away. "Don't worry about it."

Once the door shut behind her, Rory wondered if Lane could help. She pulled out her phone. After several rings, Lane picked up.

"Hello." Her words were muffled. Guiltily Rory wondered about the current time and the time difference that she hadn't taken into account. Then again, peering out the hotel window, she could see that the sun was shining.

"Is this a bad time?"

She could hear Lane yawning, loudly. "I'm never fully awake these days." A piercing cry filled the background. "Not again. Rory, I'm gonna have to call you back."

Feeling desperate, Rory pleaded. "No! Lane, please. I need you. It's urgent. Can Brian or your mom watch the babies for a few minutes?"

"Let me see what I can do."

Several long minutes passed. Rory paced nervously about the room. Nearly tripping on her suitcase again, she bent to slam it shut then shove it aside, out of her way.

"Okay, I'm outside where it's quiet. Make it quick. I don't have long. Brian isn't very comfortable going solo for long. What's going on?"

"I'm pregnant."

Rory hadn't told many people, only her mom and Anna. And now Lane. Each time she told another person, the prospect of having a baby became more real. And more terrifying.

"Didn't you learn from my mistakes? What're you going to do?" After a pause, she said, "Oh, that's why you're calling."

The emotions Rory had managed to suppress with Anna, were escaping. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she sobbed. "I don't know what I want to do. I don't know if I want to get back together with Logan or not."

"Yeah, he'd be the father." Lane half-reminded herself. "But aren't you getting ahead of yourself? Didn't you turn down his proposal for a reason?"

Even exhausted, Lane had a good point. Only a few weeks ago, Rory had been debating his proposal but ultimately decided she wanted the chance to explore her options. To live her life independently.

The prospect had been thrilling.

But now circumstances had changed.

When Logan had proposed in front of all those people at her grandparents' house during her graduation party, she'd felt claustrophobic, like she couldn't breathe.

Similar to how she felt now.

Yet as her mother pointed out, even without Logan in the picture, she'd be permanently tied down if she had this child.

Lane asked, "Isn't the most important question, do you want to have this baby? Not that I had much choice in the matter-"

"I do."

Rory's words surprised her. Even though she was scared. Even though her life would never be the same, that she would never be free again, this baby was already a person to her. Each time she told someone new about her pregnancy, it reinforced this.

She couldn't terminate this baby or consider giving her up for adoption by a stranger. While she'd been tempted to head in that direction, saying it aloud had finally solidified her feelings.

"How is it?" Rory asked, looking out the window at the cars stuck in gridlock traffic on the adjacent highway.

"You mean being a mom? It sucks. It's harder than I ever thought it would be. Even before the babies were born, it's like I'm not a person anymore. I'm lucky if I can get clean clothes or shower every other day. My brain is utter mush because I never sleep. And I've got help with Zach, and my mom and Brian who are around most of the time. I can't imagine how your mom survived doing all this on her own. I have even more respect for her now that I know what she went through."

Rory felt guilty that she'd never really considered the day-to-day challenges that her sixteen-year-old mother had experiencing, raising a child on her own. Without any help. Lorelai had always spoken so fondly of their early days together. Then again, her mother had been hinting about the practical issues a few weeks ago.

"How do you feel about Zach going on tour without you?"

"Honestly? Bummed. It's the dream. I would kill to go on tour. Zach wanted all of us to go. I considered it for a minute. Then reality hit. That would've been insane. Getting out of the house with two kids is a major event just to go to the park down the street. It wouldn't have worked."

With regret, Lane said, "Rory, I have to go."

"No! Please!"

"Brian's done."

Rory pleaded. "But- "

"Look, Rory, I've known you most of your life. You can handle this. Whatever you decide, you will make it work. You've got this."

Turning away from the window, Rory noticed a can of ginger ale with condensation on it, sitting on the dresser. Anna must've returned while her back was turned and decided to give her some privacy.

Finally feeling at peace about her decision to have the baby, Rory sat on the bed with her phone. She selected Logan's number. She'd never deleted his contact information. She had no animosity towards him. She had no idea how he felt. She wasn't sure what the time was in California, but she'd delayed this for far too long. And if she waited, she might lose her nerve.

The phone rang. And rang. After eight rings it went to voice mail. She hung up, not sure what to say. This didn't seem news that was appropriate to relay via voice mail.

Later that evening she tried him again. The phone rang three times then stopped. When she tried another time, she got the message that her call had been blocked.

This was going to be harder than she expected.