Chapter 12: Things Are Never What You Think

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*Rory*

"Okay, Mrs. Ryglaski, you seem to be almost fully dilated and effaced. I have another patient delivering soon, so I'm going to head over to her, but I'll be back in just a few minutes." The doctor smiles at Lane, nods her head, and leaves.

"Why are you here?" Lane asks, glancing to where I'm standing in the corner.

"You--you're in la--"

"I know that. Why are you in California?"

I shake my head. "It's not important, now. What's important is--"

"Don't finish that sentence before you tell me why you flew all the way across the country!" Lane demands. She reminds me of a combination of my mother and...Brett.

"Brett," I say softly.

"Who's 'Brett'?"

"Jess' daughter."

Lane's eyes widen. "What?"

"Jess Mariano. He has a four-year-old daughter and he's living in Atlanta. We met on the MARTA."

"Oh, my God, it's like Sliding Doors!"

I laugh. "Right. Except not."

"Well, it's at least Dharma and Greg. Your mother always reminded me of Abby...in...some ways." Lane shakes her head. "So, tell me everything."

"Okay," I say hesitantly, settling on the edge of her bed.

"Okay!" She's way too excited. I keep getting reminded of her awful cheerleader days. "First of all: is he married?"

I shake my head. "No. Brett's mom is this real low-life, and she's really only seen Brett a few times. He's been raising Brett all by himself."

"Aww!" Lane grins.

"Yeah, I know." I grin back. "They're really cute together. She's just like him. She pretends to read everything he does, too--when we first met, she stole On The Road and read it upside down. And when she can't sleep, he sings to her. XTC. 'The Man Who Murdered Love'. It's the sweetest."

Lane looks thoughtful. "If they're so cute together, why are you here?"

"Be--because...he called us a family."

"And? Is that good? Is that bad? Are you not sure?"

"I'm...not sure, I suppose."

"Okay." Lane clears her throat. "Let's try a little word association."

I raise my eyebrows at Lane, but nod. "Okay."

"Close your eyes."

I oblige.

"All right, I'm gonna say a word, and you say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Okay."

Lane pauses, thinking. "CNN."

"Job."

"Job."

"Travel."

"Travel."

"New York." Travel--New York?

"New York."

"Jess." Whoa.

Lane takes her time with the next one. "Boyfriend."

"Jess."

"Books."

"Jess."

"Love."

"Jess."

"Sex."

I smile, remembering a few nights ago. "Really, really good."

"Brett, Jess, and you."

"Family." I open my eyes. Lane's smiling.

"There ya go. You not only love him, the sex is really good and you want to be a family. I suggest you get the hell out of here and fly back to him right now."

"But--"

"Yeah, after the baby."

"Okay."

We both smile...best friends...who've figured everything out.

*Jess*

They left me in the house.

Luke and Lorelai took Susie and Brett to the diner and shopping or something that sounded really unappealing, and they left me in the house.

There's nothing on television, their computer isn't fully hooked up--neither of them know how to do it--and they're the middle-age parents of a two-year-old.

There's not much to do.

I wander through the living room and the kitchen for what has to be the five thousandth time, this time stopping in front of Rory's closed bedroom door.

I haven't been in this room in six years.

I make up my mind and go in.

There's still the wall of travel posters, only this time someone has pinned large signs on them, proclaiming, "We made it!" and "Been there, done that". Her Harvard corner has been transformed into a Yale corner--that much I figured. Her bookcase is far from the packed shelves I saw so long ago. There are less books there now, having all been transported down South. I see a few favorites still lying unsupported in corners, and I pull a random, well-worn paperback and slip it into my back pocket for later reading.

Her desk is just a desk, scattered papers and CDs and a lamp. Her dresser is bare, save for a large guestbook that looks as if it came from the Dragonfly. I walk over to it and glance at the open page.

"Sat and forever am at work here" is written in Lorelai's hurried script. Underneath, in Rory's careful handwriting, it says "Satanic forces are at work here."

I nod. That pretty much sums up the girls for you. I wander to Rory's open closet and glance inside. A few clothes, thousands of shoes. I'm about to leave the room when a box practically buried beneath the shoes catches my eye. I pull it out, and then the other three behind it.

Dean

Jess

Oscar

Ryan

I discard the other three boxes and open up the one with my name on it. Books and CDs she borrowed and I never got back, along with the stray T-shirt, is in the box. I dig around for a minute and pull out Howl, the book I stole the first day I met her. As I flip through the book, tickets fall out. Movie tickets, concert tickets, and...two tickets to Stars Hollow High Prom of 2003. "Bought by Lane Kim" is scrawled on the bottom of both, my name on one and Rory's on the other, and Rory has absentmindedly doodled all around it, drawing a heart around the date and both our names.

The very last thing in the bottom of the box is an envelope. I pull it out and open it. I pull the first letter out--it's from Luke. I pull out the second letter, this one from Rory. She says she misses me, and so does Luke, and if I came home, that'd be okay with her. She wouldn't mind seeing me again.

The last thing in the envelope is a faded airplane ticket for Jess Mariano, bought by Luke Danes, from Venice Beach to Hartford, September 21, 2003.

The envelope is unaddressed. Never sent.

I put everything back in the box the way it was, and then shove all of the boxes back underneath Rory's shoes.

It's only two minutes later, as I'm leaving Rory's room for the couch, do I realize that I've got her letter still curled into my hand.

*Rory*

I wave goodbye to Lane one last time and leave her room. I take a detour past the nursery, to catch another peek of little Baby Boy Rygalski before I fly back to Jess.

Lane and Dave were expecting a girl, so they didn't have any boy names...just goes to show how things are never what you think.

I pull my cell from my purse and dial my office, hoping to get the news into the ticker first, and then I can get all of the major magazines--with permission of Lane already, of course.

The phone rings once before someone picks it up.

"CNN newsroom, Davis here."

Uh...oh. Davis.

"Uh, can you connect with me with Grace Taylor?"

"What's the nature of your call?"

"Entertainment News for the ticker."

"Employee ID number."

"569156," I rattle off.

"Gilmore?" he asks.

"Hi," I say sheepishly.

"Where are you? I tried calling you last night and you didn't answer."

"Well...right now I'm sort of in California."

"Enjoying your vacation?"

"Sure."

"What say you we grab dinner when you're back in town?"

Awkward. Stupid! Awkward.

"Uh, actually, Eric, I've got a little news on that front."

"Uh-oh. You called me Eric."

"Yeah, I did. I can't go out with you anymore."

"What?"

"I mean, we only ever really had one date, and unfortunately, it was a really good date.... But anyway, right after that date, I ran into someone from my past, and now...he's not in my past anymore. He's my future."

"Uh, okay."

"Yeah." I smile. Jess is my future, Jess is my future! "Can you connect me with Grace now?"

"Sure."

Eric clicks off, and I'm stuck listening to really bad Muzak. In my head, however, I'm singing my own little tune.

Jess is my future, Jess is my future!