The Wurlitzer Prize
Author's Note: Wow, it's been a while! I didn't realize it'd been that long. Sorry for the delay. In the meantime, I sincerely hope you read "Being Right is Overrated," by the amazing kimlockt or "Open Road" by lucia marin. (If you haven't, do).
Dedications: The usual suspects; emrie, the beta from heaven; Marissa, my absolute favorite nag/college advisor (mwah!); Chris because she's insane; Hadar because she rocks; and to all the wonderful people at the GG fanfic board.
Part Nine: 99 Red Balloons
The next morning, Rory wakes up, moderately depressed. The day after Christmas has always been a melancholy one for her. With the celebrations done, the presents opened, the goodies eaten, there's nothing to do but clean up and go back to work. Luckily, the twenty-sixth has fallen on a Sunday, giving Rory all day to procrastinate about going home to her rather bleak shoebox apartment.
When Rory opens her bedroom door onto the kitchen, she can hear Luke and Lorelai in the living room. Following the dulcet banter of their voices, she stumbles into the living room, where Lorelai is staring sadly at the Christmas tree that Luke is dismantling.
"Lorelai, we can't keep the Christmas tree up."
"Luke."
"Lorelai.it's going to dry out and the house will burn down."
"You're such a pessimist," Lorelai whines. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rory standing in the doorway. "Hey, babe," Lorelai greets her enthusiastically.
"Morning," Rory half-mumbles.
"Hey, Rory," Luke says, his voice muffled behind the tree as he attempts to untangle Lorelai's light arrangement. "Lorelai, how the hell did you get these things on?"
Winking at Rory, Lorelai says, "Hmm.I don't know."
"Funny," Luke says sarcastically. "Do you want this house to go up in flames?"
"Can we save all my shoes?"
"Never mind." Luke picks out a cord and starts unraveling.
Sighing, Lorelai walks over to Rory, picking her way across the various boxes holding ornaments and garlands. "Hungry?"
"No, not really."
"Luke made some muffins," Lorelai offers, trying to entice Rory into eating. She hasn't eaten since lunch on Christmas Eve.
"I'm not hungry," Rory asserts.
Gently taking her arm, Lorelai leads Rory into the kitchen and sits at the table with her. "I think we need to talk."
"Nothing to talk about," Rory says dolefully.
"Aaron bolted." Rory looks around the room, wary of Jess bursting in on them. As if reading her mind, Lorelai says, "Jess left early this morning."
"Yeah, Aaron bolted," Rory agrees. "I told him about Jess."
"Good girl." Taking her daughter's hand, Lorelai asks, "How did he take it?"
"He took it." Rory feels a lump forming in her throat. ".He took it like a perfect gentleman and said that we can be friends," she finishes at a whisper.
"Aw."
"I felt so awful."
"Rory, honey, don't take this the wrong way, but it was natural to feel awful. You did kind of sleep with another guy during Christmas weekend."
"Don't remind me."
"And Jess.?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to him since."
"Still giving him the silent treatment?"
"He's doing the same thing to me," Rory says defensively.
"You're really still in love with him?"
"Yes."
"And you really want to be with him?"
"Yes."
Lorelai sighs. "Babe, can I ask you a question?"
"Since when do you say that?"
"Well, I don't think you're going to like it."
"Just say it."
"Why do you want to be with Jess?"
Squinting, Rory looks into the distance. She can feel Jess hands roaming all over her and his lips on hers and she can hear him murmuring into her ear and she just knows. "Whenever I'm with anyone else, all I can think about is Jess."
"That's a pretty good reason," Lorelai says. "And the look on your face works too."
"The look on my face?"
"Yeah." Lorelai smiles wistfully. "Just don't let him make you unhappy, all right?"
"I don't think I can help it."
"My poor baby."
Rory looks helplessly at her mother. "What do I do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I just want to be with Jess." Hanging her head, letting her hair drape over her face, Rory feels silly. This is, after all, the man who always makes her feel confused and angry. But he's also the man who can make her tingle and jump like no other, who is never afraid to tell her the brutal truth, who always has new and interesting perspective on everything.
"Okay. Then you just have to make him believe that."
"How?"
"How did Jess make you believe it a long time ago?"
Perplexed, Rory gazes at her mother. Then it pops. "He came to me. He moved back here from New York."
"Exactly." Lorelai gets a panicky look on her face. "Don't quit your job unless you can get another one, though!"
"I know, Mom." Rory stands up and moves toward her room. "I need to do some.thinking."
"Okay, hon. Just let me know if you need anything. You sure you don't want a muffin?"
Automatically, Rory almost says "no," but she feels a painful empty rumble in her stomach. "You know, I might have one."
"Excellent." Lorelai scoops a muffin onto a plate and hands Rory coffee, then kisses her on the cheek.
"Mom?" Rory asks, looking down at her hands holding the plate and mug.
"What?"
"Are you disappointed?"
"In you?"
"No, in my.choice."
"About Jess? Of course not. If that's who you need, that's who you need. It must be in the genes," Lorelai says with a sly glance toward the living room.
"Yeah, must be." Rory smiles and retreats to her bedroom where she unearths her cell phone from deep in her purse and dials the familiar number. "Jen?"
"Rory? Hi!"
"Hi. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas! You're a little late."
"I know. I was going to call yesterday, but."
"But what?"
"But.look, Jen, do you remember way back when we first met?"
"Sure."
"And I was with that guy for a pretty long time?"
"The one you refused to talk about? Yeah, I remember."
"Okay. That was Jess. Is Jess."
"Jess."
"And I slept with him." It almost feels to Rory as though she's giving this confession by rote, she's done it so many times. "First at my mom's wedding and then this weekend."
"Rory!" Jen exclaims. There's a brief silence, and then Jen says, "I didn't think you had it in you."
"I do. And Aaron and I broke up."
Jen sighs. "Another one bites the dust."
"But I'm in love with Jess."
"You have been forever," Jen realizes.
"Yes. And do you remember that job at the Times?"
"Sure."
"Well, I'm going to call Glenn tomorrow and see if I can get it."
"And.?"
"And I'm going to move to New York."
"What?!"
"I need this, Jen," Rory whispers.
"What am I going to do without you?"
"It's not definite yet."
"Oh, come on, you're going to get that job."
"I don't know." Rory sighs raggedly and sits on her bed. "I'm sick of breaking up with all these guys, Jen. I know how to fix it. I just don't know if I can."
"I think moving all the way to New York is a pretty good step," Jen says.
"You don't know Jess. He's so stubborn."
"Rory, if it's what you really want, then it'll happen."
"Thanks, Jen."
"Anytime. Hey, I hate to cut this short, but Scott's parents are still here."
"Okay, sure. Thanks again."
"That's what friends are for."
"Hey, how are Scott's parents?"
"They're okay. His mom's pushing for grandchildren." She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Cross your fingers for me."
With a laugh, Rory says, "Good luck."
"Thanks. Talk to you soon."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"That's right."
"Bye," Rory says. Jen says the same and they hang up. Like she usually does, Jen gives Rory confidence, and for the first time, she feels like maybe she can do this. Picking up her muffin, she takes a monstrous bite.
*
Back in Boston the next day, Rory sits at her desk at the Globe. It's her lunch break, where normally she and Jen go out, but today Rory is carefully preparing all her ammunition for a phone call to the Times. She is determined to get this job. Not only will it be a major step up in the world for her-editorials at the New York Times-it will get her closer to Jess. Now the only problem is getting him to love her.
"Glenn Baxter, please," Rory requests of the receptionist. Her hands are shaking as the call is transferred through the line.
"Glenn Baxter," he answers.
"Glenn, hello, this is Lorelai Gilmore."
"From Boston."
"Yes, from Boston."
"Well, Lorelai, good to hear from you."
"Thank you. I was wondering if you had anymore news on that editorial job," Rory says, her throat dry.
"Actually," Rory can hear shuffling, "I do." Rory's heart clenches and she holds the phone tighter, afraid it will slip out of her hand. "Miller quit, just like I thought, so it's open for the bidding. If you want to come up here for a formal interview, I'll be happy to see you."
"Really?"
"Really. Of course, it'll be Hammersted that makes the final decision, but I'll put a good word in for you."
"Thank you so much, Glenn."
"My pleasure. When can you be here?"
"Tomorrow," Rory says, eagerly.
Glenn chuckles on the other end. "Such enthusiasm. How does a three o'clock interview sound?"
"Perfect."
"I'm putting you in."
"Thanks."
"Sure. See you tomorrow."
"Right, tomorrow."
Rory hangs up the phone with a brilliant bubble of happiness in her stomach. Writing editorials for the New York Times. This is what she dreamed of. And she's just one interview away.
Jen pokes her head over the top of Rory's cubicle. "Hey you."
"Hey."
"So?"
"I've got an interview tomorrow at three," Rory says, almost smugly.
"Hey, great."
"I know."
"What'd I tell you?"
"What did you tell me?"
"That you'd get that job."
"I don't have it yet."
"Please," Jen says, rolling her eyes. "You're getting it."
Rory just smiles.
"What are you wearing?" Jen asks, leaning her arms on the cubicle wall.
"I don't know.skirt. Blouse. Shoes."
"Make sure everything's ironed."
"I will, Mom."
"Hey, I'm trying to help."
"I know."
Jen starts to walk away, but turns and says, "Wear the blue skirt."
"Will do," Rory says with a smile, turning back to tomorrow's Annie's Mailbox column.
*
At eight o'clock the next morning, Rory is on the New York-bound train, wearing her blue skirt. Nervous, she looks out the window, thinking about inconsequential things to keep her mind off her interview. She's too anxious to read, too anxious to anything but sit here and stare.
In New York, Rory picks out a mildly seedy-looking diner to have lunch in and picks at her food, wishing Jen were here to keep her company. To amuse herself, she looks around the diner, watching people have conversations, making up names, occupations and lives for them.
Three o'clock finally rolls around and Rory finds herself standing outside Mr. Hammersted's door, wringing her hands, trying to stop.
"Miss Gilmore?" the secretary asks. "You can go on in."
"Thanks." Rory smiles and steps through the door, trying to look confident.
"Miss Gilmore," says Mr. Hammersted. Rory had expected his office to be gigantic and intimidating, but quite the contrary, it is rather small and filled to the brim with newspaper clippings, some framed, some merely tacked to the wall. "Hello," he says, standing to shake her hand.
"Hello."
"Please, sit." Rory sits in the chair opposite from his desk, which looks as though it has been temporarily moved in here for the occasion. "So, you're up from Boston."
"Yes."
"Nice city."
"Yes, yes it is."
"And you work for the Globe."
"Yes, I work for the Globe. I've been there for two and a half years."
"And you're seeking this position because."
"I want to use my journalistic skills, not my relationship skills," Rory says, referring to her Annie's Mailbox gig. "Harvard did not educate me to advise people on their personal problems. I want to actually use my degree."
"So why have you stayed at the Globe for so long?"
"I had been led to believe, falsely, that there was hope for promotion. And frankly, I was just happy to have a job."
"Of course. It can be tough in this industry." Hammersted glosses over her resume. "It says you majored in journalism and political science."
"Yes."
"Well, that was a wise decision." Hammersted nods. "What is your experience with writing this kind of column?"
"At the back, there are some of my college articles attached."
Hammersted rifles to the back and nods. He skims a few of them over and leans back in his chair. When he looks up, he meets her eyes with a steady, unflinching gaze. Rory, determined not to let this job slip past, holds it.
They talk about a few more things. They talk about her college experience. They talk about her aspirations. They talk about her idols. And after all that.
"Well, I'll take a more thorough look at this and give you a call."
"That sounds great."
"Good." Hammersted stands up and shakes Rory's hand again. "Thank you, Miss Gilmore."
"No, thank you."
Rory lets herself out of the Times building and into the bustle of the New York sidewalk. She feels like skipping down the street. She might actually get a real job.
After her euphoria dies down a little, Rory digs a little slip of paper out of her briefcase. She stands by the subway map for ten minutes, mapping out a disjointed little journey to her destination. The subway intimidates her, but Rory makes the trip unscathed and walks slowly down the street until she's standing right in front of it.
Peering in the window, scared to go in, Rory sees stacks of books. Rows of books. Piles of books. Mountains of books. It looks like the most wonderful place in the world. Backing up, she gets a wide view of the store, called simply Hemingway's. Rory feels a pleasant knot in her stomach and she smiles at the name-so very Jess.
She stands outside his bookstore for a long time, just looking at the people walk past, walk in, walk out. Inside herself, she holds a long debate as to whether or not she should wander in and look through it, maybe tell Jess that she's moving to New York.
But she doesn't, of course. Because Jess is right; deep down, Rory doesn't really change. And she's scared, scared to death that they'll reenact their last conversation together, scared he'll send her away, scared she'll mess up.
So she stands outside for twenty minutes, though it feels like an hour, just watching. Waiting. Hoping.
*
Jen stands up. "Please tell me this is the last box ever."
"I don't know about ever."
"I'm never moving."
"I don't have that much stuff."
"It looks like a lot more when it has to be packed," Jen mutters, rubbing her back. "God, my back hurts." She takes her crisp shirt in her hand and frowns when she sees that she's gotten dirt and dust on it.
"Most of it's books, and those are easy."
"And heavy."
"And then there's kitchen stuff."
"Which I think you should get rid of anyway. I mean, you never use it."
"You never know when you might need that stuff."
"When you're suddenly possessed by Julia Child?"
"Right, then."
The girls sit on Rory's couch and lean against each other. "So, what's your apartment in New York like?" Jen asks.
"Smaller than this."
"Is that possible?"
"Apparently." Rory sighs. "I don't know if I can get everything in."
"Rory, you have a couch, a chair, and a kitchen table. That's not a lot of furniture."
"I think the chair will have to go, because with the chair comes the ottoman."
"My God, how small is it?"
"You know those solitary confinement cells?"
Jen just laughs. "When are Luke and Lorelai coming?"
"In about an hour, I think. As long as they haven't 'pulled over at a rest stop,'" Rory says, using air quotes.
"I see," Jen says with her eyebrows raised. "Well, I have to go clean up. Scott's coming at six."
"Thanks for the help, Jen."
"Sure thing." Jen kisses Rory's cheek. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
"Promise to call?"
"Of course."
"And wait at least a week before you replace me."
"I don't think I can find anyone quite that crazy."
"Well, good." Jen and Rory hug tightly, and Rory almost starts crying. "I'll come visit."
"You better."
"Likewise."
"Okay, well."
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go. Goodbyes suck."
"They sure do." Rory and Jen smile at each other and Jen lets herself out. Rory sits on the couch again, getting ready to cry. She didn't anticipate leaving Jen being so hard. Over the years, through everything, Jen has become closer than family to Rory. Deep down, though, Rory knows they'll lose each other. Despite Jen being a wonderful friend, she secretly disapproves of Rory running off to be with the bad boy. To her credit, she tries to hide her disapproval, but Jen loves security, stability, and wealth. Jess is none of those.
An hour and a half later, Luke and Lorelai are at her door. Lorelai has her Jeep and Luke has his truck, and they're going to move Rory to New York. "Okay, let's do this thing," Lorelai calls, obviously excited.
"Okay, mattress first," Luke requests.
"I'm going to take this down," Lorelai announces, picking up a box. "Hey! That's heavy."
Luke shakes his head as Rory leads him down the hall to her bedroom. The two struggle with the mattress and eventually wedge it out the door. "So, you excited?" Luke asks as they make their way slowly down the hallway toward the stairwell.
"Yeah."
"Good. Sounds like a good job."
"I think it will be."
They don't talk for a little while as they shove, pull, lift and drag the full size mattress to Luke's truck and heave it in. Luke looks around warily, then leans in a little closer to Rory. "I talked to Jess."
"Oh?" Rory asks.
"I didn't say anything about.you."
"Did he ask?"
"No," Luke says, his eyes on the ground.
"Oh," Rory says, though she's not surprised.
"But for what it's worth, I think he.loves you.too," Luke finishes weakly.
"Okay. Thanks, Luke," Rory says awkwardly.
"Sure. So, uh, I think the couch will have to come next. We might need your mom for that one."
"If we can tear her away," Rory says dryly, looking to Lorelai as she hefts another box into the Jeep.
Doing his usual head shake, Luke starts back upstairs. Looking at her apartment dismantled and spread into trucks, Rory feels the odd sensation of trepidation and relief. She's really doing this. She's really moving to New York. She's really taking her life into her own hands.
Author's Note: Wow, it's been a while! I didn't realize it'd been that long. Sorry for the delay. In the meantime, I sincerely hope you read "Being Right is Overrated," by the amazing kimlockt or "Open Road" by lucia marin. (If you haven't, do).
Dedications: The usual suspects; emrie, the beta from heaven; Marissa, my absolute favorite nag/college advisor (mwah!); Chris because she's insane; Hadar because she rocks; and to all the wonderful people at the GG fanfic board.
Part Nine: 99 Red Balloons
The next morning, Rory wakes up, moderately depressed. The day after Christmas has always been a melancholy one for her. With the celebrations done, the presents opened, the goodies eaten, there's nothing to do but clean up and go back to work. Luckily, the twenty-sixth has fallen on a Sunday, giving Rory all day to procrastinate about going home to her rather bleak shoebox apartment.
When Rory opens her bedroom door onto the kitchen, she can hear Luke and Lorelai in the living room. Following the dulcet banter of their voices, she stumbles into the living room, where Lorelai is staring sadly at the Christmas tree that Luke is dismantling.
"Lorelai, we can't keep the Christmas tree up."
"Luke."
"Lorelai.it's going to dry out and the house will burn down."
"You're such a pessimist," Lorelai whines. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rory standing in the doorway. "Hey, babe," Lorelai greets her enthusiastically.
"Morning," Rory half-mumbles.
"Hey, Rory," Luke says, his voice muffled behind the tree as he attempts to untangle Lorelai's light arrangement. "Lorelai, how the hell did you get these things on?"
Winking at Rory, Lorelai says, "Hmm.I don't know."
"Funny," Luke says sarcastically. "Do you want this house to go up in flames?"
"Can we save all my shoes?"
"Never mind." Luke picks out a cord and starts unraveling.
Sighing, Lorelai walks over to Rory, picking her way across the various boxes holding ornaments and garlands. "Hungry?"
"No, not really."
"Luke made some muffins," Lorelai offers, trying to entice Rory into eating. She hasn't eaten since lunch on Christmas Eve.
"I'm not hungry," Rory asserts.
Gently taking her arm, Lorelai leads Rory into the kitchen and sits at the table with her. "I think we need to talk."
"Nothing to talk about," Rory says dolefully.
"Aaron bolted." Rory looks around the room, wary of Jess bursting in on them. As if reading her mind, Lorelai says, "Jess left early this morning."
"Yeah, Aaron bolted," Rory agrees. "I told him about Jess."
"Good girl." Taking her daughter's hand, Lorelai asks, "How did he take it?"
"He took it." Rory feels a lump forming in her throat. ".He took it like a perfect gentleman and said that we can be friends," she finishes at a whisper.
"Aw."
"I felt so awful."
"Rory, honey, don't take this the wrong way, but it was natural to feel awful. You did kind of sleep with another guy during Christmas weekend."
"Don't remind me."
"And Jess.?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to him since."
"Still giving him the silent treatment?"
"He's doing the same thing to me," Rory says defensively.
"You're really still in love with him?"
"Yes."
"And you really want to be with him?"
"Yes."
Lorelai sighs. "Babe, can I ask you a question?"
"Since when do you say that?"
"Well, I don't think you're going to like it."
"Just say it."
"Why do you want to be with Jess?"
Squinting, Rory looks into the distance. She can feel Jess hands roaming all over her and his lips on hers and she can hear him murmuring into her ear and she just knows. "Whenever I'm with anyone else, all I can think about is Jess."
"That's a pretty good reason," Lorelai says. "And the look on your face works too."
"The look on my face?"
"Yeah." Lorelai smiles wistfully. "Just don't let him make you unhappy, all right?"
"I don't think I can help it."
"My poor baby."
Rory looks helplessly at her mother. "What do I do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I just want to be with Jess." Hanging her head, letting her hair drape over her face, Rory feels silly. This is, after all, the man who always makes her feel confused and angry. But he's also the man who can make her tingle and jump like no other, who is never afraid to tell her the brutal truth, who always has new and interesting perspective on everything.
"Okay. Then you just have to make him believe that."
"How?"
"How did Jess make you believe it a long time ago?"
Perplexed, Rory gazes at her mother. Then it pops. "He came to me. He moved back here from New York."
"Exactly." Lorelai gets a panicky look on her face. "Don't quit your job unless you can get another one, though!"
"I know, Mom." Rory stands up and moves toward her room. "I need to do some.thinking."
"Okay, hon. Just let me know if you need anything. You sure you don't want a muffin?"
Automatically, Rory almost says "no," but she feels a painful empty rumble in her stomach. "You know, I might have one."
"Excellent." Lorelai scoops a muffin onto a plate and hands Rory coffee, then kisses her on the cheek.
"Mom?" Rory asks, looking down at her hands holding the plate and mug.
"What?"
"Are you disappointed?"
"In you?"
"No, in my.choice."
"About Jess? Of course not. If that's who you need, that's who you need. It must be in the genes," Lorelai says with a sly glance toward the living room.
"Yeah, must be." Rory smiles and retreats to her bedroom where she unearths her cell phone from deep in her purse and dials the familiar number. "Jen?"
"Rory? Hi!"
"Hi. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas! You're a little late."
"I know. I was going to call yesterday, but."
"But what?"
"But.look, Jen, do you remember way back when we first met?"
"Sure."
"And I was with that guy for a pretty long time?"
"The one you refused to talk about? Yeah, I remember."
"Okay. That was Jess. Is Jess."
"Jess."
"And I slept with him." It almost feels to Rory as though she's giving this confession by rote, she's done it so many times. "First at my mom's wedding and then this weekend."
"Rory!" Jen exclaims. There's a brief silence, and then Jen says, "I didn't think you had it in you."
"I do. And Aaron and I broke up."
Jen sighs. "Another one bites the dust."
"But I'm in love with Jess."
"You have been forever," Jen realizes.
"Yes. And do you remember that job at the Times?"
"Sure."
"Well, I'm going to call Glenn tomorrow and see if I can get it."
"And.?"
"And I'm going to move to New York."
"What?!"
"I need this, Jen," Rory whispers.
"What am I going to do without you?"
"It's not definite yet."
"Oh, come on, you're going to get that job."
"I don't know." Rory sighs raggedly and sits on her bed. "I'm sick of breaking up with all these guys, Jen. I know how to fix it. I just don't know if I can."
"I think moving all the way to New York is a pretty good step," Jen says.
"You don't know Jess. He's so stubborn."
"Rory, if it's what you really want, then it'll happen."
"Thanks, Jen."
"Anytime. Hey, I hate to cut this short, but Scott's parents are still here."
"Okay, sure. Thanks again."
"That's what friends are for."
"Hey, how are Scott's parents?"
"They're okay. His mom's pushing for grandchildren." She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Cross your fingers for me."
With a laugh, Rory says, "Good luck."
"Thanks. Talk to you soon."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"That's right."
"Bye," Rory says. Jen says the same and they hang up. Like she usually does, Jen gives Rory confidence, and for the first time, she feels like maybe she can do this. Picking up her muffin, she takes a monstrous bite.
*
Back in Boston the next day, Rory sits at her desk at the Globe. It's her lunch break, where normally she and Jen go out, but today Rory is carefully preparing all her ammunition for a phone call to the Times. She is determined to get this job. Not only will it be a major step up in the world for her-editorials at the New York Times-it will get her closer to Jess. Now the only problem is getting him to love her.
"Glenn Baxter, please," Rory requests of the receptionist. Her hands are shaking as the call is transferred through the line.
"Glenn Baxter," he answers.
"Glenn, hello, this is Lorelai Gilmore."
"From Boston."
"Yes, from Boston."
"Well, Lorelai, good to hear from you."
"Thank you. I was wondering if you had anymore news on that editorial job," Rory says, her throat dry.
"Actually," Rory can hear shuffling, "I do." Rory's heart clenches and she holds the phone tighter, afraid it will slip out of her hand. "Miller quit, just like I thought, so it's open for the bidding. If you want to come up here for a formal interview, I'll be happy to see you."
"Really?"
"Really. Of course, it'll be Hammersted that makes the final decision, but I'll put a good word in for you."
"Thank you so much, Glenn."
"My pleasure. When can you be here?"
"Tomorrow," Rory says, eagerly.
Glenn chuckles on the other end. "Such enthusiasm. How does a three o'clock interview sound?"
"Perfect."
"I'm putting you in."
"Thanks."
"Sure. See you tomorrow."
"Right, tomorrow."
Rory hangs up the phone with a brilliant bubble of happiness in her stomach. Writing editorials for the New York Times. This is what she dreamed of. And she's just one interview away.
Jen pokes her head over the top of Rory's cubicle. "Hey you."
"Hey."
"So?"
"I've got an interview tomorrow at three," Rory says, almost smugly.
"Hey, great."
"I know."
"What'd I tell you?"
"What did you tell me?"
"That you'd get that job."
"I don't have it yet."
"Please," Jen says, rolling her eyes. "You're getting it."
Rory just smiles.
"What are you wearing?" Jen asks, leaning her arms on the cubicle wall.
"I don't know.skirt. Blouse. Shoes."
"Make sure everything's ironed."
"I will, Mom."
"Hey, I'm trying to help."
"I know."
Jen starts to walk away, but turns and says, "Wear the blue skirt."
"Will do," Rory says with a smile, turning back to tomorrow's Annie's Mailbox column.
*
At eight o'clock the next morning, Rory is on the New York-bound train, wearing her blue skirt. Nervous, she looks out the window, thinking about inconsequential things to keep her mind off her interview. She's too anxious to read, too anxious to anything but sit here and stare.
In New York, Rory picks out a mildly seedy-looking diner to have lunch in and picks at her food, wishing Jen were here to keep her company. To amuse herself, she looks around the diner, watching people have conversations, making up names, occupations and lives for them.
Three o'clock finally rolls around and Rory finds herself standing outside Mr. Hammersted's door, wringing her hands, trying to stop.
"Miss Gilmore?" the secretary asks. "You can go on in."
"Thanks." Rory smiles and steps through the door, trying to look confident.
"Miss Gilmore," says Mr. Hammersted. Rory had expected his office to be gigantic and intimidating, but quite the contrary, it is rather small and filled to the brim with newspaper clippings, some framed, some merely tacked to the wall. "Hello," he says, standing to shake her hand.
"Hello."
"Please, sit." Rory sits in the chair opposite from his desk, which looks as though it has been temporarily moved in here for the occasion. "So, you're up from Boston."
"Yes."
"Nice city."
"Yes, yes it is."
"And you work for the Globe."
"Yes, I work for the Globe. I've been there for two and a half years."
"And you're seeking this position because."
"I want to use my journalistic skills, not my relationship skills," Rory says, referring to her Annie's Mailbox gig. "Harvard did not educate me to advise people on their personal problems. I want to actually use my degree."
"So why have you stayed at the Globe for so long?"
"I had been led to believe, falsely, that there was hope for promotion. And frankly, I was just happy to have a job."
"Of course. It can be tough in this industry." Hammersted glosses over her resume. "It says you majored in journalism and political science."
"Yes."
"Well, that was a wise decision." Hammersted nods. "What is your experience with writing this kind of column?"
"At the back, there are some of my college articles attached."
Hammersted rifles to the back and nods. He skims a few of them over and leans back in his chair. When he looks up, he meets her eyes with a steady, unflinching gaze. Rory, determined not to let this job slip past, holds it.
They talk about a few more things. They talk about her college experience. They talk about her aspirations. They talk about her idols. And after all that.
"Well, I'll take a more thorough look at this and give you a call."
"That sounds great."
"Good." Hammersted stands up and shakes Rory's hand again. "Thank you, Miss Gilmore."
"No, thank you."
Rory lets herself out of the Times building and into the bustle of the New York sidewalk. She feels like skipping down the street. She might actually get a real job.
After her euphoria dies down a little, Rory digs a little slip of paper out of her briefcase. She stands by the subway map for ten minutes, mapping out a disjointed little journey to her destination. The subway intimidates her, but Rory makes the trip unscathed and walks slowly down the street until she's standing right in front of it.
Peering in the window, scared to go in, Rory sees stacks of books. Rows of books. Piles of books. Mountains of books. It looks like the most wonderful place in the world. Backing up, she gets a wide view of the store, called simply Hemingway's. Rory feels a pleasant knot in her stomach and she smiles at the name-so very Jess.
She stands outside his bookstore for a long time, just looking at the people walk past, walk in, walk out. Inside herself, she holds a long debate as to whether or not she should wander in and look through it, maybe tell Jess that she's moving to New York.
But she doesn't, of course. Because Jess is right; deep down, Rory doesn't really change. And she's scared, scared to death that they'll reenact their last conversation together, scared he'll send her away, scared she'll mess up.
So she stands outside for twenty minutes, though it feels like an hour, just watching. Waiting. Hoping.
*
Jen stands up. "Please tell me this is the last box ever."
"I don't know about ever."
"I'm never moving."
"I don't have that much stuff."
"It looks like a lot more when it has to be packed," Jen mutters, rubbing her back. "God, my back hurts." She takes her crisp shirt in her hand and frowns when she sees that she's gotten dirt and dust on it.
"Most of it's books, and those are easy."
"And heavy."
"And then there's kitchen stuff."
"Which I think you should get rid of anyway. I mean, you never use it."
"You never know when you might need that stuff."
"When you're suddenly possessed by Julia Child?"
"Right, then."
The girls sit on Rory's couch and lean against each other. "So, what's your apartment in New York like?" Jen asks.
"Smaller than this."
"Is that possible?"
"Apparently." Rory sighs. "I don't know if I can get everything in."
"Rory, you have a couch, a chair, and a kitchen table. That's not a lot of furniture."
"I think the chair will have to go, because with the chair comes the ottoman."
"My God, how small is it?"
"You know those solitary confinement cells?"
Jen just laughs. "When are Luke and Lorelai coming?"
"In about an hour, I think. As long as they haven't 'pulled over at a rest stop,'" Rory says, using air quotes.
"I see," Jen says with her eyebrows raised. "Well, I have to go clean up. Scott's coming at six."
"Thanks for the help, Jen."
"Sure thing." Jen kisses Rory's cheek. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
"Promise to call?"
"Of course."
"And wait at least a week before you replace me."
"I don't think I can find anyone quite that crazy."
"Well, good." Jen and Rory hug tightly, and Rory almost starts crying. "I'll come visit."
"You better."
"Likewise."
"Okay, well."
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go. Goodbyes suck."
"They sure do." Rory and Jen smile at each other and Jen lets herself out. Rory sits on the couch again, getting ready to cry. She didn't anticipate leaving Jen being so hard. Over the years, through everything, Jen has become closer than family to Rory. Deep down, though, Rory knows they'll lose each other. Despite Jen being a wonderful friend, she secretly disapproves of Rory running off to be with the bad boy. To her credit, she tries to hide her disapproval, but Jen loves security, stability, and wealth. Jess is none of those.
An hour and a half later, Luke and Lorelai are at her door. Lorelai has her Jeep and Luke has his truck, and they're going to move Rory to New York. "Okay, let's do this thing," Lorelai calls, obviously excited.
"Okay, mattress first," Luke requests.
"I'm going to take this down," Lorelai announces, picking up a box. "Hey! That's heavy."
Luke shakes his head as Rory leads him down the hall to her bedroom. The two struggle with the mattress and eventually wedge it out the door. "So, you excited?" Luke asks as they make their way slowly down the hallway toward the stairwell.
"Yeah."
"Good. Sounds like a good job."
"I think it will be."
They don't talk for a little while as they shove, pull, lift and drag the full size mattress to Luke's truck and heave it in. Luke looks around warily, then leans in a little closer to Rory. "I talked to Jess."
"Oh?" Rory asks.
"I didn't say anything about.you."
"Did he ask?"
"No," Luke says, his eyes on the ground.
"Oh," Rory says, though she's not surprised.
"But for what it's worth, I think he.loves you.too," Luke finishes weakly.
"Okay. Thanks, Luke," Rory says awkwardly.
"Sure. So, uh, I think the couch will have to come next. We might need your mom for that one."
"If we can tear her away," Rory says dryly, looking to Lorelai as she hefts another box into the Jeep.
Doing his usual head shake, Luke starts back upstairs. Looking at her apartment dismantled and spread into trucks, Rory feels the odd sensation of trepidation and relief. She's really doing this. She's really moving to New York. She's really taking her life into her own hands.