Chapter 7
(December 2007)
Struggling to maneuver her carry-on bag from the overhead compartment, Rory was anxious to exit the crowded plane. With her altered center of gravity, she was having trouble balancing. She was relieved when a kind stranger assisted her.
This was it. A flutter of excitement filled her. She was officially starting her married life with Logan.
As she strode down the corridor towards the main terminal, she scanned for him. Moments later, she broke into a smile as she caught sight of him. Her pace grew faster as he rushed towards her.
Throwing his arms around her, he kissed her and said, "It's so good to see you."
Stepping back, Logan assessed her appearance.
"I like the haircut."
On Anna's suggestion that a lower maintenance hair style would be helpful, Rory had trimmed her locks to shoulder length and started growing out her bangs. Anna's hysterical tale about being caught off guard when her first child arrived three weeks early had resonated with her. In no shape to leave the house after giving birth, in desperation, Anna had been driven to poorly hack her overgrown bangs using a pair of dull scissors.
Laying a protective hand on her abdomen, he said, "Wow."
Feeling a little defensive, Rory replied, "Yeah, I put on some pounds." And several more since he'd seen her in Saint Louis.
"You're supposed to when you're having a baby." He reassured her.
He took her suitcase as they resumed walking. "It's gonna take a while to get to the parking lot."
"That's okay. After sitting in the plane so long, it feels good to be moving."
They talked about her flight and then about his frustrations with a stubborn client as they strode past the airport baggage claim.
As they entered the parking lot, Rory wondered if Logan's leased car would be suitable for a child. He'd always favored higher end sports cars. Had he thought that far ahead? Her suitcase might not fit if it was a two-seat convertible.
Feeling the warmth of the sun on her face, she was impressed that the weather was so pleasant for December. She'd left Michigan early that morning, bundled in a heavy coat that she'd stuffed into her luggage at the airport. Now she was tempted to peel off her sweater as well.
"Here we are."
Rory was thrilled when he opened the hatch of a Toyota Prius.
She teased him. "Slumming?"
"I'm a family man now. That sounds weird, doesn't it?"
She smiled nervously. Hopping into the passage seat, she adjusted the leg room. "These are good cars. I loved my Prius."
Getting settled behind the driver's seat, Logan said, "That's good. Because this is your Prius."
"What?"
"Your grandparents paid some weird guy to drive it cross country."
Weird guy? That didn't sound like her grandparents. But wait, maybe her mother under the guise of helping someone out? Could that have been Kirk?
"Tall, skinny, hasn't seen much sun?" Rory said.
"Yeah." Logan checked the rearview mirror as he backed the car out of the space. "He immediately complained about the rudeness of West Coast drivers then insisted that he had to use my shower."
"That sounds like Kirk."
"Yeah, that was his name. I didn't feel comfortable letting him into the house but after listening to him go on, he sounded so pathetic I was a little worried about him being on his own. I let him stay the night."
Kirk was a little like a lost puppy that needed care.
"You're a good man."
"You not gonna believe this. The car was packed, crammed with baby shower and wedding gifts and other things. Kirk and I moved everything to the lower level of the townhouse. I've opened a few but we've still got a lot of stuff to go through. And lots of Thank You notes to write."
After Logan paid the parking attendant, he directed the car onto the highway. Looking out the window, Rory studied the scenery. Occasional palm trees seemed so exotic and welcoming. The gentle hills of the city were dotted with houses.
Once they left the highway, she admired the charming Victorian houses, with their detailed gingerbread features and appealing pastel colors. There weren't nearly as many brick homes as she was accustomed to on the east coast. She also observed sleek modern homes built with gleaming metal beams and massive windows. Many of the homes were tall and narrow, like their townhouse.
Traffic slowed to a crawl as they approached their neighborhood. There was also a gradual decline in the overall greenery and charm. While there were still artsy local coffee houses and authentic Tai places, twenty-four hour payday loan and pawn shops were also present.
When they arrived at the townhouse, Logan pulled the car into the garage. While Rory appreciated that they actually had a garage and wouldn't have to worry about the nightmare of city parking, the space was designed for precisely one car (and a compact car at that). It was a tight fit. With Rory's added girth, she couldn't comfortably wriggle out of the car. Logan backed it out of the garage to allow her to exit. He opened the front door of townhouse for her, revealing a narrow path to the back stairway flanked by piles of cardboard boxes, exercise equipment, wrapped gifts, a stroller, and a highchair.
"Oh my," Rory gulped. They had more work to do than she'd anticipated. The enormity of everything that had to be done weighed upon her
When they reached the top of the squeaky stairs, Rory was stunned by the transformation of the living area. The peeling sickly yellow paint had been replaced with a deep harvest gold. The dents in the walls had been spackled and smoothed. There were two inviting armchairs flanking the leather couch along with a modern metal and glass coffee table and two matching end tables, with lamps. All of these rested upon a modern hunter green and brown print area rug. He'd even bought floor lamps for additional illumination. Nearby the kitchen was a round dinette table with four chairs.
Rory sniffed, fighting back those annoying tears.
"You don't like it?"
"No! That's not it at all. You did all this yourself?"
Scanning the walls, she noticed he'd even displayed prints from his former apartment.
"Yeah. There's not much to do on weekends." Logan said, downplaying his efforts. "I had a little help with color suggestions from the interior designer at the furniture store. The guy at the hardware store had good tips, too. The landlord even let me borrow a ladder."
Leaning towards him, she said, "Thank you. It feels more like a home now." She kissed him.
Logan had implemented all three of her suggestions.
"But how did you afford this?
She stretched out on the leather couch. She steeled herself for the credit card or trust fund response she was growing accustomed to.
Logan joined her on the couch, perching on the edge.
"There's a story behind this. About a week before Thanksgiving, the doorbell rings. Guess who was there? You're never gonna guess."
Clueless, Rory shrugged. "Finn? Honor?"
"My dad."
Rory's shoulders stiffened. "What?"
While she was no longer intimidated by Mitchum Huntzberger, he still made her uncomfortable. Though now that she was officially a member of his family, it was a bit naïve of her to assume that he wouldn't be involved in their lives.
"Apparently your grandparents ran into him at some fundraising event. Your grandmother went on and on about how beautiful the wedding was and how thrilled she was to be included in it."
Oh no! Had Emily opened a can of worms for Logan?
"Logan, I'm so sorry-"
His relationship with his family was tenuous enough without her grandmother exacerbating it.
He remained calm. "Don't be. I told her it was okay to post the wedding announcement in the local paper. My parents have clearly told me they don't approve of you as my wife or of my career choices. It doesn't matter what they think. It's my life, not theirs."
"But they're your parents."
"We've never had the warm and fuzzy relationship you have with your mother. Frankly, your relationship with your grandparents is more loving than mine with my parents."
"What do you mean?" Rory asked.
"You know, providing more than just physical needs. When you were struggling, they offered the pool house to you. They didn't just leave you high and dry to figure things out on your own. They didn't harp on the mistakes you'd made. You're more than just bragging rights to them."
More tenderly he said, "Rory, I know you didn't see it, but your grandparents were struggling throughout that dinner in Saint Louis."
"They were?"
He nodded. "It was killing them not talking to you. Your mom knew if we got all of you in the same room that they'd eventually breakdown and swallow their pride."
"Why didn't you tell me about your father's visit?"
"It wasn't going to be a short conversation and you had enough going on with finishing up your job. There's more. It appears my dad felt guilty enough to bring us a wedding gift."
"What was it?" Rich people could be very eccentric when it came to gifts. She hoped there wasn't some odd antique chair buried behind the boxes on the lower level of their townhouse.
"A five hundred-thousand dollar check. Said we could use it as a down payment for a house."
Rory's mouth hung open. She wasn't sure what she thought about that. They could certainly use the money. But what obligations would come with it?
"I made some decisions about what to do with it."
Rory straightened. "Wait a minute. Isn't that our money since we're married? I should've been included in these decisions."
She didn't think Logan expected her to behave like a 1950s housewife but now was the time to set the record straight.
"Fair enough. Let me tell you what I did and we can make changes if you like."
Rory asked, "Do you want to use it to get a better house?"
It was an appealing thought. Despite Logan's efforts to improve the townhouse, it was cramped and had old appliances and bathroom fixtures. And it was in a more commercial area of town.
"Believe me, I'd love to. My dad made sure to tell me that he thought this place was a complete disaster. Building up equity instead of paying rent would be great. But I did some researching. The price of real estate is absolutely insane out here. This dump with access to public transportation and a garage would go for over a million point three."
Rory could barely breath. "You're…kidding."
"And while that money would be a healthy down payment, there's still a significant monthly mortgage payment, property taxes and upkeep. While I'd kill for a nicer place, I don't want to be up nights worrying about paying the bills. It's hard enough already."
Rory was impressed to hear Logan speaking so practically. Due to his privileged upbringing, he tended not to concern himself with nickel and diming (as he called it). Living alone this summer on his own dime had made an impact.
"What did you decide to do with the money?"
"Improve this place and get some furniture. Don't look at it too closely - it's cheap. I also got a futon for the second bedroom so it could double as a bed or a couch when your mom comes to visit."
"I'm impressed."
"And there's the paint and supplies. I put some into a savings account, for easy access for emergencies."
Rory nodded her approval.
"I want to invest the rest."
"In low-risk stocks. Right?" Rory held Logan's gaze, knowing his tendency to take risks.
"For now." He conceded.
"Logan, that sounds reasonable. But are you comfortable accepting this money?'
"Yeah. He's my dad. He owes me something. Besides, I'm not letting him tell me what to do with it." Seeing the concerned furrow across Rory's forehead, he added. "I know your mom did differently with her parents. She has her own situation. This is my family. But they're not going to tell me how to live my life."
Grinning, he said, "You might find this amusing. I'd assumed Emily told him about the baby."
Rory laughed. "God no. Then she'd have to admit we had sex before we got married."
XXXX
The next weeks sped by in a flurry of activity. Rory researched OB/GYNs and after interviewing a few candidates, found a doctor she felt comfortable with. She and Logan attended weekly Lamaze class. The nursery was slowly being set up. Each day she opened and sorted through the expanse of boxes. She was delighted to discover a case of assorted flavors of Pop Tarts which had to have been sent by her mother.
Logan worked long hours. Up at six-thirty, he was out the door by seven-fifteen and many nights didn't return home until eight o'clock. At first, Rory didn't mind being alone, especially after traveling on the press bus for months. But after a few weeks, the quietness and isolation started to wear on her.
She could always call her mother or Lane. Or Anna or even Paris. And she did. But that three-hour time difference got complicated. She tended to get lonely or discouraged at night when Logan was working late. Unless she wanted to wake her mother up after eleven, she needed to call before eight pm. And a phone call wasn't the same as meeting in person at the local diner or coffee shop. Not that she'd found any diners in San Francisco.
Unfortunately, she wasn't in an ideal position to make new friends. No one hung around after Lamaze class. Besides, most of the participants came from dramatically different backgrounds. She didn't have much in common with a professional couple in their late thirties who were having their first child or a single twenty-four-year-old woman having her fifth baby. She rarely saw her neighbors. Hopefully, she'd have the opportunity to interact with more people once she resumed working.
Even though it wasn't the highest priority, she'd started skimming the local papers for jobs. Nothing looked promising. She was tempted to send out resumes, but she was in no condition to attend interviews and wouldn't be available to work for a few months.
In the meantime, Anna, always looking out for her, had asked her to do some research for an article she was writing. While admittedly spending more time than necessary on the project, Rory had started bringing her laptop to work at the local coffee shop, in hopes of getting to know some of the regulars. At the very least, it was a change of scenery.
She waited for Logan for dinner each night but usually gave up after six thirty, ordering take-out without him. Sometimes he'd dine with clients and neglect to tell her. She'd determined which places had outstanding take-out food and which places had take-out that was reasonably priced. The intersection between the two groups wasn't as large as she'd hoped. As a concession to their tight budget, she'd started making sandwiches for lunch, which was more cooking that she'd ever done.
When Logan joined her in the living area one night, sinking into an armchair with a carton of Chinese food in hand, she said, "I've finally organized a list of all the gifts, who gave them, their addresses and a column to check off when the note has been written. For some we can even get away with a wedding and baby gift thank you on the same card."
Putting his feet up on the coffee table and using a fork to grab some noodles, he said, "Good for you. Why are you going to all this trouble? Those notes are so fake. 'Thank you for giving us the magnificent silver platter' that we'll do absolutely nothing with. It's a waste of time."
Offended, Rory replied. "People went of their way for us. The very least we can do is thank them for their gift."
"How Emily Post." Logan didn't bother to hide his sarcasm.
"What is wrong with you? You need to help with these notes. The gifts were for both of us."
"I'm tired. I've been at work all day. You're just sitting around. Can't you just take care of it?"
Rory's tone became sharper. "For your information, I do more than sit around. I'm sorting through this mountain of stuff, getting it organized, and getting the apartment set up for a baby."
Getting more annoyed, she said, "And, may I remind you, this is a temporary situation. I'll be working full time too and you need to do your share. I will never be the pretty little housewife sitting at home waiting to do your biding. That will never be me.
"Sometimes my job will involve writing from home. Sometimes I won't be paid until I find an editor. But that doesn't mean it isn't work. Just because my job is different from yours doesn't mean it's any less important."
"Well, you're obviously on a break now."
"Really? You want to be eight and half months pregnant? It's a real vacation. Getting up all night to use the bathroom. Swollen ankles and acid reflux. The baby kicking so much that you can't get comfortable at night.
"Do you honestly think this is fun?"
She averted her eyes from his, afraid of what she might see. He'd never been overly excited about having a baby so soon in their relationship.
"I've also been going through our bills trying to figure out a budget. We've got to figure out more ways to cut back, especially since I'm not bringing in a salary for now. We can't keep relying on credit cards and the remains of your trust fund.
"We're spending too much on food."
"Guess we won't eat."
Rory hated when Logan was flippant.
"I'm making sandwiches at home for lunch. What can you do?"
"I can't brown bag it. People won't take me seriously. There aren't many inexpensive food places near work. Sometimes dining with clients at pricey places is part of the job. I don't have a choice in that."
"Isn't that a business expense? You should be reimbursed for that. Have you looked into that?"
He shrugged.
"Logan! Make the time! This could really help us."
He shoved the empty container aside and used the remote to turn up the volume on the television.
Trying to lighten the mood, she said, "Christmas is in a few days."
How odd that she hadn't realized it. Maybe it was the absence of cold weather. She'd bought some inexpensive gifts – a necklace for her mom, a scarf for her grandmother, a book for her grandfather, and a ball cap for Luke. She'd dutifully mailed them ten days ago. Other than that, she'd done nothing to get into the holiday spirit.
"How do you want to decorate?"
She and her mother always went overboard with multiple trees, lights, and decorations in every room of the house.
"I don't know." Logan was barely paying attention.
"If we could buy a small tree, we could make decorations."
"Out of tin foil and popcorn? Yeah, that would look great.
"And weren't you just saying we had to cut expenses? Live trees at the corner lot start at two hundred dollars." Logan pointed out.
"Two hundred dollars?"
Discouraged, she bit her lower lip. Why was he being so negative? It must be because they were both tired. It was late.
She changed the subject again. "What do you want to do this weekend?
Christmas time should feel special. And right at this moment, it didn't. Was there something they could do, together, this weekend? She didn't have any suggestions.
Even for a normal weekend, their options were limited. Going to the movies was expensive, even if they went to a matinee. Sporting event tickets were sky high. Most food worth eating was pricey as well.
"Maybe you can show me the Golden Gate Bridge? We can take a picnic."
"Oh boy" was his lackluster response. "Maybe we can bring peanut butter sandwiches."
Annoyed and hurt by Logan's immature responses, she stood. "At least I'm trying. I'm going for a walk."
As she passed him, he grabbed her arm and became very serious. "Not a good idea in this neighborhood at this time of night."
"Fine. Then I'm going upstairs to be alone."
XXX
The next morning, Rory awoke to find herself alone in their queen-sized bed. She sighed. She didn't like going to bed without clearing the air, but she'd fallen asleep before Logan had joined her.
Last night she'd desperately wanted to call her mom. But she hadn't. First, it would've been past midnight at Stars Hollow. It didn't seem right to wake her up that late unless it was an emergency. There was also her pride. Although her mom would never put her down, Rory hated to admit that she and Logan were having adjustment issues. And knowing her mother's almost gleeful tendency to tear apart the wealthy person's perception of wants versus needs, she held back.
After showering and dressing, she descended the stairs, hopeful that her husband would be there. He wasn't. However, a cup of coffee and a cranberry muffin, along with a note, were on the kitchen table.
"Back soon. Love you. Logan"
Some of the tension in her neck lessened. At least he was trying.
After breakfast, she worked on Thank You notes. Later, taking a break, she went out to shop for items for a picnic.
When she returned from the store, a massive silver artificial Christmas tree was in their living room. It was so tall that the top branches folded against the ceiling. Two large cardboard boxes filled the room as well.
"Logan! What is this?"
Logan's head emerged from peering into a box. "There's a department store going out of business so they're selling their Christmas decorations. I got the tree and everything in these boxes for seventy bucks. We might not want to use it all. But it's something. I bought some cheap lights too."
Rory reached into a box, pulling out an enormous fuzzy red sock.
"Guess we're set if Big Foot is coming for Christmas." Logan joked. "They just sold these boxes. I have no idea what's inside. Over time we can gradually replace these with better decorations."
"It'll be fun."
They eagerly dug into the boxes. There were hundreds of dark blue ornaments, mostly round balls of various sizes. Some were glass, others were coated in a satin material. Many were covered with ornate brocade fabric, and several were coated with tons of gold glitter that shed all over the boxes and then the floor. Rory left the bowling bowl-sized ones in the box. Although the tree was large, there were plenty of ornaments.
"I know silver and blue aren't traditional Christmas colors-" Logan apologized while hanging an ornament on the tree.
Rory admired the tree. "I love it!"
"There was a bright pink tree but I thought this was nicer."
"Good call. Are there more ornaments?"
The blue balls were festive, but some variety would make the tree more interesting.
"Don't know. Keep digging."
They pulled out two more reasonably sized fuzzy red stockings, which they hung on the wall. Gigantic sequined blue bows were left in the box. Rory squealed with delight when she discovered a small faux gingerbread house.
"It's so cute!"
She set it up in the center of the kitchen table.
"It even comes with tiny ginger bread people."
"What do you want to do with these?" Logan twisted his lips with amusement while looking towards her. He held an ornament in his hand.
Coming closer to inspect the item, Rory asked, "What is that?"
"Guess it's the California version of Santa."
There was an entire collection of ornaments featuring Santa on a surfboard, Santa with a sun burn, Santa in a dune buggy, Santa lounging on the beach, Santa on a hang glider. While his appearance was traditional in some ways, being chubby and having the customary white beard and red hat, in other ways, it was not. He was usually sunburned, shirtless and wearing loud print board shorts.
"This is…so wrong." Rory laughed. "No wonder they didn't sell many. But they are decorations. How about we put some on the back of the tree and the rest in the powder room on this floor?"
"Works for me."
"Too bad we don't have a fireplace. We could give Santa a real sunburn." Rory teased.
Logan laughed.
Two hours later, they completed their task. Rory sat on the couch, leaning her head back against Logan's shoulder, while admiring their handy work.
"It's magical," she said.
"It looks like the elves had too much eggnog."
Intermixed with the more tasteful blue orbs and Sunburned Santas, they'd also found penguin and seashell ornaments. Candy canes Rory had purchased hung on the tree as well and some dangled from strands of flashing lights strewn about the ceiling of the entire lower level of the apartment. A family of reindeer figures stood beside one of the end tables.
"A schizophrenic mix of traditional and…" Rory said, searching for the right word.
"Tacky" Logan completed her thought.
"I was going to say joyful but yeah. That's about right." Interlacing her fingers about his, she said, "I wrote most of the Thank You notes. You can help me stamp and address them later."
"Fair enough. Still up for the Golden Gate Bridge?"
As excited as Rory had been to get out of the house, she was ashamed to admit she was worn out. And ravenous.
"I'm sorry. I need to eat. Now."
"That's okay. Whatever the pregnant lady needs. What do you want?"
Rory rose and retrieved a canvas bag from the kitchen. "I bought us stuff for a picnic. Maybe we can eat it in front of the tree?"
"Will you be comfortable sitting on the floor that long?"
Rory considered it. "Probably not. The coffee table and the couch it is."
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out roast beef sandwiches on crusty French bread, cheese and crackers, and grapes. And what appeared to be a bottle of wine.
Logan was impressed. "Nice."
"Just went to the store."
"Is that champagne? Should you be drinking that?" he teased.
"No, it's sparkling apple cider so we both can enjoy it." She unscrewed the cap and poured some into a paper cup.
Logan took a cautious sip. "Not bad."
When they finished eating, Logan said, "Still want to go to the Golden Gate Bridge?"
"Yeah. But not now." She yawned. "I hope you're not disappointed."
"Actually, I have another suggestion." Logan arched an eyebrow and reached for her hand. "If you're not too tired."