Chapter 10: No Wits or Whats About It

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*Jess*

"Daddy." Poke. Poke. "Daddy." Poke.

The early morning wake-up ritual is so routine that I almost wonder if the last few days happened. Then I hear an unfamiliar little giggle and open my eyes.

"Daddy! You waked up!" Brett leans back on her feet, bounces, and claps. I sit up and pull her into my lap roughly, causing her to giggle up a storm.

"Fun!" Susie yells from the end of the bed.

Aw, crap.

I glance over at the bed adjacent to mine, expecting to see Rory sitting there, grinning. Instead, Liz is passed out, snoring, and Rory's stuff is nowhere in sight.

Aw, shit!

*Lane*

"Bye, Lane!" Brian yells, rushing past me through the open door. Zach, carrying Brian's guitar as well as his own, shrugs.

"Date," we say simultaneously as Brian's car speeds out of the driveway. He gets as far as the gate before he realizes that he's left his guitar and Zach.

"Hey," he yells, standing in his seat and turning around through the sunroof. "I need my guitar! Come on!" He settles back into his seat and starts blaring our latest studio release.

Zach shakes his head. "He gets really excited over second dates."

"Yeah, he really does," I grin. "Promise me you won't let him go too crazy."

"Promise me you won't let him work too hard," he shoots back, glancing out the large bay window in the living room at Dave.

"I'll try."

"Okay." Zach leans down and pecks me on the cheek. "And get off your feet!" he commands as he heads away from the house. I wave him off and smile, before turning around and watching my husband.

He's sitting on a stool perched on the farthest edge of our deck, as close to the water as he can get without settling unsteadily on the sand. He's got his perpetual guitar in his hands, a tape recorder and notebook on an adjacent stool. His fingers fly over the strings, his mouth moves slowly, thoughtfully. As I watch, he stops and jots something else down in his notebook. He glances towards the waves for a minute, and then leans down and turns off his tape recorder. He stands, gathers his various acoutrements, and wanders back into the house.

"Hey," he smiles as he sees me. He sets the guitar and tape recorder down and walks over to me. "They leave?" he asks, kissing my lips quickly.

"Brian had to get to his date."

"Oh, yeah. Two in a row, right?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just heads into our bedroom.

"Yep. He was thrilled," I answer, following him.

"Always is." Dave wanders into our bathroom, and back out again. "Underwater camera?"

"Next to the surfboard."

He nods. "I think I'm gonna head out there. Great waves."

"Whatever you say," I grin. I love when he turns into surfer dude husband.

"Stop with the grin," he admonishes.

"Okay, sorry," I say, still grinning.

"Don't the kittens need feeding?" he asks desperately.

"Yeah," I say, standing up from the bed. I kiss him quickly. "Don't stray too far."

"I know."

"Okay. Have fun."

"Get off your feet," he calls as I exit the room.

"That's what Zach said," I call back.

"I always knew he was a smart man!"

I laugh, and walk through our large, open living room to our ground-floor glass porch. "Little kitties," I call, sliding the glass door shut behind me. Five three-month-old kittens run to my feet and mob me, meowing wildly. "Okay, okay, calm down," I laugh, scooping down to pick up Seymour, the orange striped one. "Let me get the food."

I carry Seymour out of the porch and into the pantry, where I grab a bag of kitten chow. As I'm edging back onto the porch, I glance out the glass and notice a taxi curving down our long driveway. It pulls to a stop in front of the door and a very familiar tall brunette climbs out.

"Rory!" I scream, placing Seymour down gently and running to the front door.

*Rory*

I laugh as the black kitten jumps on my stomach and flies off into his little grey striped sister.

"What are their names again," I ask Lane.

"The orange one's Seymour, the black one's Rocky, the grey striped one with white feet is Jay, and the two girls are Jeep and Lisa. Lisa's the littlest one."

"Okay," I groan as Jay vaults himself into my stomach. I'm sprawled on my back on Lane's porch floor. She's sitting in a white rocking chair in one corner, petting Lisa on her tiny shelf of a lap.

"My mom's pregnant again," I say, glancing upside down at my best friend.

"No! Really?" Lane asks, startling Lisa so she jumps onto the floor.

I nod. "She and Luke are supposed to get married in December, too."

"Are they gonna move it up now?"

I pause, and cock my head. "I don't know. I didn't ask."

"I hope I can go." Lane sighs. "I hate being pregnant."

"How far along are you?"

"She should have been born two days ago! It's agony."

"Maybe we should call you Rachel, from Friends," I say mock-thoughtfully.

"But I don't want my baby to disappear after two episodes."

"But Freddie Prinze Jr. could be your manny!" I protest.

"Let's shut up about Friends, okay?" Lane says, starting to laugh.

"Okay," I manage to get out through chuckles.

We lapse into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Lane stands up suddenly and walks over to me.

"Get up," she announces.

"No, that's okay," I say, petting Rocky.

Rocky runs from my hands, and Lane reaches her own down. "Up now."

"You'll make a good mom," I say, using her hand to stand up.

"Upstairs. Now."

"But--" I try to protest.

"No. Upstairs. Library. Right now."

"Yes, ma'am." I hang my head in mock defeat and make my way to the library, per Lane's orders.

The second she waddles in the door she closes it and locks it and pushes me onto the leather couch. "Why are you here?" she asks, leaning against a large desk and crossing her arms.

"I just wanted to see my best friend--is that okay?" I ask, way too defensively. Lane notices.

"No, that's not okay. Not when something collossal is happening to you and you won't tell me what it is."

"Mom's--"

"I know Lorelai's pregnant--that's not it." Lane shakes her head. "I can't tell what it is, but there's something different about you."

"There's nothing different at all," I say, glancing at one of the large stacks of books.

"We are not leaving this room until you tell me what has happened in the past week."

I duck my head. So much crap has happened since I talked to Lane a week ago, I hardly know where to start.

"Start at the beginning," she says, reading my mind.

"Okay." I nod. "I was on the MARTA, and--"

"Hold that thought," Lane grimaces, holding up one hand, the other on her swollen stomach. "Don't forget that thought, hold it."

"Okay..." I say hesitantly. "Why?"

"I'm in labor."

"WHAT?!" I jump to my feet.

"Dave's surfing, can you go find him?"

"What about you?" I ask, rushing to Lane's side.

"I'll be fine! Just get Dave. I'll call Zach to drive me to the hospital."

"But--"

"Rory! Go find my husband!" Lane says semi-desperately, shoving a key into my hand.

"Okay," I say, backing away. I unlock the door to the library and start running down the stairs. I pick up a phone extension on the ground floor and hear Lane gasping to Zach, so I throw it on the floor and rush out to the beach, hoping Dave's not too far out.