Chapter 4: Home
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except, you know, the storyline. And Brett. And Jess as a good daddy.
A/N: I call carbonated beverages Cokes. It's like, "You want a Coke?" Of course, they do it worse in Atlanta, cause that's *dramatic voice* "THE LAND OF COKE!!
Anywho.
So, Tropical Storm Bill hit the other day. Rain, wind, no power, so no computer. One reason why this is late. Friday my mom found orphaned little kitties at her work. We've been taking care of them since. Orphaned!! Less than two weeks old!!
So, that's another reason this is late. But it's not that late, so just be nice and happy and review.
Thank you much.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jess
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be my very last ex-girlfriend.
Brett wiggles in my arm, and then finally slides down from the seat and pads over to Rory.
"Hi."
"Hi," she responds, looking at me.
'Look at my kid! Talk to my kid! Ignore me!' I want to yell, but don't. Instead, I say "Hi" right back, like it's no big deal to see Rory Gilmore again.
And it's not, really. I mean, things were over five years ago. Actually, to be exact, five years and five months….
No. I refuse to do this. It's just Rory. She's just an ex-girlfriend. Ex-girlfriends have never been trouble before. Still, the last conversation—one-sided—we had together keeps ringing in my head…"I think I may have loved you", she said. Does she still feel that way?
NO! No! No. Okay. I'm calm.
"So, uh…how are you?" she asks, still looking at me. Brett, bored with her, pads back over to me and slides onto my lap. As she picks up my book and starts to "read" it upside down, I answer Rory.
"I'm here. You?"
"Yeah, yeah, me too. Uh, what are you doing here?"
"On the train, or in Atlanta?"
"Jess," she says softly.
"Right. We live here."
"'We'?"
I gesture to Brett, who leans back into me. I rest my chin on the top of her head, and she flips a page in On The Road.
"Only you two?" Rory asks, almost hopefully. Nope, not hopefully. No hopefulness there.
God, no sex in five years has got me seeing feelings where there aren't any. I nod in response to her question.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"What are you doing on the train?"
"Going home."
From…? I prompt silently.
"I work at CNN," she answers my silent question. We always could speak without words.
"Ah."
"Yeah."
We both stare at each other for a few more minutes, and then look up gratefully as the train pulls into the next station. Not looking at her, not looking at her, not looking at her, I stand up, twisting Brett around so that she's resting on my hip and not my lap, and then pick up the bag of books Alice is letting her take home today. She spoils my daughter too much.
I stand at the door next to my seat, waiting for it to open, and then throw a glance behind me. Rory's standing at the other door.
"Is this your stop?" I ask suddenly. She jumps.
"Oh. Yeah." She notices I'm standing. "Yours too?"
"Yep."
She nods, and we share another awkward moment, before facing each of our doors. They slide open, and then I look back, one more time.
"Rory!" I call. It's the first time I've spoken her name since before I left Stars Hollow, what seems like a lifetime ago. She spins around as I adjust Brett on my hip. "You wanna come over for a little while? Catch up?"
She hesitates, and then nods, and runs through the car and makes it out on my side seconds before the doors close.
"Close one."
"Yep," she double-meanings, and grins. I angle my head toward the stairs, and we start walking.
"Let me take that bag." She tries to grab the book bag that's dangling from my hand.
"No!" Brett yells, swatting at her. "My books!"
"Brett." I say harshly. "No hitting."
She sighs, heavily, as if I'm doing her some great injustice. I once again decide that I'm going to tape her mouth together for every single one of her years from thirteen to eighteen, at which point I will kick her from my home.
"Sorry," I apologize.
"Oh, it's no problem," Rory grins. "I think it's cute."
"Yeah, you don't put up with it practically 24/7."
Rory puts on her worried-but-I'm-not-showing-it-nope!-never-show-the-insecureness face.
"What?" I ask, somewhat harshly.
"Nothing, I just…where's her mom?"
I shrug, and then groan and lower Brett to the ground. She makes some noises of protest, but I just firmly grab her hand and start steering her from the Marta station.
"Which way?" Rory asks as we reach the street.
"Left," I say, and point. She nods and follows me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"And then, he ate a leaf, and he started to feel better." Brett says proudly to Rory, before lifting her feet from the ground and hanging onto my hand with both arms. "And then, he spun a coon, and when he came out, he was a butterfwy!"
"Wow," Rory says appreciatively. "Is that your favorite book?"
Brett drops onto the ground and faces Rory with both of her hands on her hips. "No," she says matter-of-factly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
"Oh. Then what's your favorite book?"
"I've got two!" She holds up two fingers. I spin her around and press her back gently.
"Let's keep moving."
She sticks her tongue out at me, but walks. "My favowite books are A Farewuh Arms and Sunrises." She ticks them off on her fingers, and then looks back at Rory, who is looking at me.
"Translation?"
"A Farewell to Arms and The Sun Also Rises."
"That's what I said!" Brett exclaims, hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand.
"Hemingway, huh?" Rory asks, still gazing at me.
I shrug. "She's named after the heroines."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Catherine Brett."
"Ah."
"We're here." I announce, stopping on the sidewalk in front of our house.
"Wow." Rory says from beside me.
"It's nothing," I shrug, allowing myself to be pulled to the door by Brett.
"It's…nice," Rory says lamely, stepping onto the porch behind us.
"Hurry up!" Brett stomps her foot and crosses her arms over her chest.
"Hold on, I'm trying to find the key," I say, digging through the bag of books.
"Find it faster!" She stomps her foot again.
"Hey!" I say harshly, stopping. "Bed at seven-thirty tonight if you stomp one more time."
"But Rugrats!" she whines.
"I know."
She makes a face, but stands there silently, waiting for me to find the key. I eventually come up with it, and push the door open. Brett rushes into the house and heads straight upstairs.
"Come on in," I tell Rory, standing to the side so she can walk in. She does, almost reverently, and stares at the large ceiling overhead, and the twisty staircase in the middle of the large foyer. "You want something to drink?" I ask, dropping the bag of books near the door and the key into a small bowl on an end table before heading to the kitchen.
"Caffeine," she pleads, following me. "I've been up since eleven last night."
"Coffee it is," I nod and start busying myself in the kitchen. She sits on a stool at the island, and watches as I rush around. As soon as the coffee's brewing, I call upstairs.
"Catherine Brett Mariano!! Snack?"
"Don't like that name!" she calls back.
"Do you want a snack or not?" I yell, exasperated.
"I wanna paint!"
"Down here!"
There's a pause, and then she stomps down the stairs. "I wanna paint," she pouts at me as she walks into the kitchen.
"Okay. You just need to do it down here."
"Okay." Brett pads over to the kitchen table and climbs into a chair, waiting expectantly for her paints. I grab her smock and fix it over her clothes before getting out paper and finger-paints for her. She grins and starts her work.
"You're so good with her," Rory finally speaks, following me with her eyes as I walk back to the sink and start in on days-old dishes.
"It's just been the two of us for three years."
"Right. Cause her mom…" Rory trails off, waiting for me to fill in. I sigh, throw the towel I'm drying off a dish with over my shoulder, and turn to face her.
"Ivy disappeared in between the hospital and her house. Haven't seen her for four years. Brett and I lived with my dad for a year, and then my dad's girlfriend sent us here, her mom's house, and my dad set me up with a job." I turn back around to the sink and begin furiously scrubbing a pot. "And no, I didn't love Ivy. Is that enough of a life story for you?"
I don't look around, but Rory doesn't say anything. After about ten minutes, I'm halfway through the debris of last night's "let's try to cook for the whole week in one night!" fiasco when she clears her throat.
"Um, can I use your phone?" she asks.
"Sure," I nod, gesturing towards the phone mounted on the wall.
"Thanks," she smiles, and then walks over to it.
"Calling Lorelai?" I ask as she starts to dial. She just gives me a tight grin and sits down at the kitchen table. Brett walks over to me with her paint hands and holds them up proudly.
"I love painting!" she announces.
"Believe me, I know." I wet a rag at the sink and lean down to wipe her up, listening to Rory's side of the conversation at the same time.
"Mom. Huh? Oh, twenty-some odd hours. You'll never guess whose kitchen I'm sitting in."
"Eric Davis asked you out!" I can hear Lorelai's tinny squeal through the phone.
"Who the hell is this punk Eric Davis?" I mutter to Brett's left hand. She giggles.
"You're a punk, Daddy."
"Thank you, sweetheart." I smile at her, and then turn my attention back to Rory.
"Well, yeah." Yeah to what?
"Mom, Mom, Mom! That's not whose kitchen in which I am sitting!" I see the pretentious Yale-speak has drifted into her everyday language.
"What about the kitchen? This is kind of a big deal." She listens, and then sighs. "No, it's not Ted Turner." I smirk. That's actually funny. "It's…um…Jess."
"Mariano?" I can hear Lorelai again.
"Yeah." Sheepishly, she said that. Or am I just paranoid?
"Yeah."
"You're all finished," I tell Brett, and she walks off.
"Well, yeah," Rory says. I watch as Brett clambers onto her lap and grabs the phone.
"Brett! Leave her alone!" I yell in my best stern-father voice, but she's already got the phone on her ear.
"Oh, Jess, let her," Rory says softly. Well, now I really have no choice.
"Hi," Brett breathes into the phone. How sweet she sounds. She's not.
"Brett." Even for someone who can't pronounce 'r's, Brett's pronunciation of her name is perfect.
She keeps the phone on her mouth as she looks up at Rory. "Are you Wory?" Rory glances at me, and I nod, so she pries the phone from Brett's fingers.
"Hi again. Sorry."
Brett slides from Rory's lap and clambers over to me, where I'm squatting on the floor waiting for her. "What'd you do that for?" I ask.
She shrugs, and climbs onto my squatted legs, causing me to almost fall over, which causes her to giggle, and then try to push me over.
"Uh…Jess. My mom wants to know who Brett is."
Ugh, Lorelai. Her again? I've already seen her too much in the past few years, traveling all the way back to goddamn Stars Hollow just to see the birth of my little cousin. And I left Brett here, with Alice. I shake my head at Rory, who quickly gets off the phone.
"She's suspicious," she says of her mother as she settles back onto a stool at the island. Brett immediately runs from me and tries to climb up on Rory. Rory picks her up and settles her on the island, which I never let her do, but I don't feel like yelling right now, so I'll let it slide.
"Goddammit. I'll call Luke. Warn him."
"Luke knows?" she asks, in this intrigued-mixed-with-disgusted voice. "And Mom doesn't?"
"Luke's met her. Luke understands. Lorelai won't." I say firmly, picking up the phone and dialing.
"How do you know Mom won't understand?"
I sigh. "She already hates me, Rory. And now she's going to be my aunt, related to me, and I don't want her to hate my daughter before she gets to know her."
"If you'd introduced them, Brett could play with Susie."
I just shake my head as Luke answers his phone.
"Luke. Get upstairs, call me back."
"Bye."
He hangs up, and I hang up, and wait for the phone to ring again.
"Is that Uncle Luke?" Brett asks, swinging her feet back and forth from her spot on the island and kicking the wood underneath the countertop.
"Yep," I answer, walking over to her and putting her back on the ground.
"Awwwww!" she complains, trying to climb back up.
"No," I say firmly, answering the phone as it rings again.
"Jess."
"Luke. Rory's here. She found out about Brett."
"Shit."
"I'm guessing you still haven't told the little missus?"
"Don't call her that. And no."
"Be ready to sleep on the couch tonight."
"Lorelai knows?"
"Rory called her, and Brett stole the phone."
"She's good at that."
"I've noticed."
"Shit," he mutters again.
"Yep. I guess you have to tell her now."
"Yeah. I'll try to be tactful."
"No offense, Luke, but you're not the best at—"
There is a huge bang on his end of the phone, and a very pissed off Lorelai yells, "Luke!"
"Illtalktoyoulaterbye," he mutters into the phone, before slamming it down. I stare at it, and then hang up.
"Your mom's gonna call you in about two minutes."
"Oh, good." Rory says sarcastically.
"Yup. Expect talk about me in Atlanta with a kid, and why didn't you tell her—along those lines."
"Right. Well, I guess I'll be getting home for that call."
"Okay." Suddenly I don't want her to leave. I'm being irrational here. It's just Rory. Right. Just Rory. Keep repeating that to yourself, over and over.
"I…here's my business card. Let's not go five years and five months without talking to each other again." She hands me a card, smiles, and then leaves. Brett waves goodbye to her, and then walks over to me and gives me a big hug around the legs.
"Do you wanna watch Barbie?"
"Yeah," I smile down at her, smoothing her dark brown hair down with one hand. "Let's go."
She smiles, and grabs my hand before leading me into the living room.