Staring down at her left hand, she smiled as the stone caught the rays of sunlight coming in from the bedroom window. It sparkled and shimmered just for her. The ring was her most prized possession, for reasons that only she and Jess could ever understand. Admiring it was something that was meant to give her strength, though it made her forget her task at hand, if only for a moment.
It's not that she had never thought of him asking her to marry him. It's just that she couldn't imagine him asking anyone to marry him. He was beyond institution, convention and needing people. But not above making her happy. He did it effortlessly, and no matter what else happened, she knew he loved her.
He reached under the pillow, pulling out a small velvety box. She watched him in wonder, as if she couldn't quite understand the ritual that was unfolding before her. As if it were a custom in some foreign land that she had read about but not before seen in person. She was brought back to her body as he touched her cheek softly. She locked her eyes with his, though she was dying to look down as he opened the box.
"Marry me?" It was an honest question, as if he might not know the answer.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She nodded, letting him wipe the tears from her face with his other hand. She leaned in towards him and put her forehead to his.
"Yes," she whispered before she pressed her lips into his. Every moment they share together seems more intimate and personal than the next, even when they are in public. They'd created their own little world, but when they were like this, just the two of them in their bed, truly nothing else existed. Everything in their life were means to the end of them being together every moment they could manage.
He took the ring from the box, and took her hand in his as he slipped it on. She admired it for the first time, realizing yet again how well he knew her, and then leaned in to kiss him again as the world fell further away from them.
She tore her eyes from the ring and looked back at the phone. For days, she had been putting off this task. She put it on her 'to-do' list the morning after he proposed. She sat down and actually wrote down real world implications of his question. He had seen it; it wasn't like she had tried to hide it. She'd tacked it onto the refrigerator after all. He knew this one question would deepen the chasms between them and the lives they'd left behind. It was one of those things that remained unspoken between them. The things he knew that she obsessed over in her mind, and he let her deal with as she saw fit. So the short list that glared at the two of them for the past few days every time they went to make dinner or grab a soda wasn't surprising to him. He'd just be happier when she got it taken care of. She stared at the first item, scrawled in her script with a red Sharpie marker.
1. Call Lorelai.
She looked at it as she went to open the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. She had the cordless in her hand, and after letting the cool liquid roll around in her mouth for a moment she swallowed and dialed the still familiar number despite the infrequency with which it'd been used over the last few years. In her mind, her mother understood her need to be with Jess. She knew that leaving everything else behind was something she had to do, just like Lorelai had left Hartford. But she had no verbal proof of that.
It didn't make dialing any easier, though. She got as far as the first three digits before hitting the Talk button quickly again.
Jess kissed her on the head, leaving her to scour the papers for entry- level publishing or journalism jobs. She was all prepared, her coffee brewed, Danish from the bakery down the block that she'd found two days prior on the coffee table next to the steaming mug. The classified ads in one hand with a yellow highlighter in her other hand signifying her readiness. She heard the door lock, circled one ad and picked up the phone. But instead of dialing the number in front of her, she dialed another one. One that had been invading her thoughts for the last week.
"Hello?"
"Mom?"
"Rory!"
"It's me. I just wanted to call you and tell you... I'm alright."
"Where are you?" she asked in the form of a question, but she already knew. It was the only place she'd ever run to. To him.
"New York. With... Jess."
"Jess."
"Yeah. We got an apartment. I'm looking for a job."
"And you're staying?"
"Yeah. I am."
"You're good?"
"I'm good. I know you don't like this, but I just, had to."
"I know, honey. I know." The resignation and sadness were practically screaming through the even tone she emitted.
"I would have called last week, but I just needed time, to settle."
"Call more?"
"I will."
But she hadn't. Not enough. That was the first time, and since then she could count the number of times she'd called her mom on one hand. She wondered if Jess ever called Luke or his parents. If he did, he never spoke about it. She knew him pretty well; the fact that he liked the broccoli better than the chicken in General Tso's chicken from the place by his work, the fact that he'd sooner leave the house without shoes than without gel in his hair, those things she knew. But sometimes, when they were reading on the couch with their legs tangled up as they sat facing each other under a blanket, she would look up and watch him. She wondered what he thought about in the deep places in his mind. Not the thoughts that got jotted down in the margins, those were things she'd stumble upon months later when she picked up the same book to read. Then she'd wonder if he worried about the things that she kept inside. Frowning, she'd decide not to think about it anymore and refocused her thoughts on the words that covered the pages of the book she'd forgotten about during her musings.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers lightly over the numbers. She took another drink of the cool water and pushed the Talk button again. She got all the numbers dialed and waited, not sure if she was hoping for a person or the machine.
"Hello?"
"Uh, Luke?"
"Yes?"
"It's me, Rory," she said lamely.
"Oh, hi, how are you?"
"I'm good. We're both good," she added.
"Well, good."
"Um, is Mom there by chance?"
"No, she's at the Inn. You can get her on the cell, though."
"Oh, good. I'll try there."
"Wait, we got a new plan, you'll need the number."
She didn't know her own mother's phone number. Reality has a way of knocking the wind out of you. She felt like she'd just been thrown down a flight of stairs as she could only hear the echo of Luke's last words.
"Rory? You there?"
"Yeah, I am. What was the number again?"
Luke repeated the number to her as she scribbled it down on the 'to-do' list on the fridge. She thanked him and they hung up, without any real discussion. Not that she and Luke had ever been wordy. They loved each other for being good to their family: Luke to Lorelai and Rory to Jess.
Another deep breath. She decided that sitting down was probably smart, and took the list off of the fridge, carrying it into the front room with her. She sat on the couch, and dialed the number without thinking about it. It was the only way.
"If it's important, then speak," came her mother's fast voice.
"Mom? Is this a bad time?"
"Rory? Uh, no, hang on a sec, though, okay?"
"Sure," she said, bewildered.
Rory heard some muffled voices, and her mother's working voice tone coming through to her ears. She smiled; remembering the afternoons of her youth spent watching her mother deal with customers, suppliers and charming the pants off anyone with her vicinity. Except Michel of course. The Frenchman was never impressed with one he'd ever met. Not outwardly anyhow. The fact that he'd cried when Sookie and Lorelai asked him to join them at the Dragonfly Inn was quickly dismissed as a bug flying into his eye. A bug from their dirty horse stables, nonetheless.
"Rory?" her mother came back to the receiver.
"Mom, how are you?"
"Busy, but good."
"Good. I just talked to Luke," she informed her.
"Hence, the cell number. I would have called you, but I didn't know how to get a hold of you."
"I know, but now you have it in your memory, right?"
"Yeah, it should be in there. So, how's the paper?"
"It's good. They keep giving me grunt work, but Jess thinks they're almost done testing me."
"What do you think?"
"I think my boss is a sadist. It could go either way," Rory smiled.
"I hope Michel talks about me like this," she giggled.
"I'm sure he does."
"So, no big promotion?"
"No, that's not why I called." Leave it to her mother to cut to the point. "But I do have a reason."
"You have my full attention."
"Jess and I, he, he proposed," she stammered.
"Oh, my," came the surprised response.
"I know. And, I said yes."
"You're getting married?" She could hear the tears forming in her mother's eyes.
"Yeah. I am," Rory affirmed, tearing up a little herself.
"Wow. My baby's getting married."
"We don't have any plans or anything yet. I just, had to tell you."
"Thank you."
"I'll call you when we know more."
"Come home?"
"What?" the sudden request blurted out by her mother threw her for a loop.
"Come home. Come see me."
"Uh, well, sure. Yeah, I can do that," she said hesitantly.
"Bring Jess. I promise, it'll be low key. Just two parties in the town square, and only one with a full on fireworks show," came the sarcasm from her mother.
"Mom," she warned.
"We'll eat. We'll talk. We'll celebrate."
Rory thought as she held the phone to her ear, mentally beginning to figure out how to get Jess to agree to this.
"I'll call you tomorrow and we'll work out details," she promised her mother before hanging up.
She hadn't had to tell Jess anything negative in these past four years. Not that they hadn't fought, had periods of weirdness or thought about ending it all. But they got through it. They'd learned when to leave the other alone, when to drop certain topics and why leaving would just make them more miserable than the worst fight they could ever have. She racked her brain for the ways to tell him. She sat for an hour on the couch, tapping her pencil against the coffee table mindlessly, going through scenarios that would make him amicable to the situation. Meeting him at the door naked. Getting his favorite Thai food for dinner that she hated. Pawning her perfect ring to get him a first edition set of Hemingway's novels. Leather bound. That might do it.
Glancing down at her engagement ring, she frowned deciding that wasn't the way to go. The ring was perfect, an emerald cut sapphire and diamond ring. It was started all this, the list, the calling, the impending trip home. She got an idea, executed it and awaited his return from work.
He came into the apartment, heading straight into the kitchen to put his keys away. Rory, used to never being able to find keys during her youth, decided they needed a key bowl, in a place they wouldn't lose it. Right next to the coffee maker. He noticed the list still on the fridge, but there was an addendum. Under a fiercely scribbled phone number, in bright blue marker there was another numbered item.
5. Go to Stars Hollow with Jess.
"Rory?"
AN: It took me a while to get inspired on how to go with this. I don't want to make it about Rory and Jess getting married, but it got a second chapter out of me. I might skip around in time a lot. We'll see. I don't want a conventional story, so it might take me time between chapters, just to let you know.
It's not that she had never thought of him asking her to marry him. It's just that she couldn't imagine him asking anyone to marry him. He was beyond institution, convention and needing people. But not above making her happy. He did it effortlessly, and no matter what else happened, she knew he loved her.
He reached under the pillow, pulling out a small velvety box. She watched him in wonder, as if she couldn't quite understand the ritual that was unfolding before her. As if it were a custom in some foreign land that she had read about but not before seen in person. She was brought back to her body as he touched her cheek softly. She locked her eyes with his, though she was dying to look down as he opened the box.
"Marry me?" It was an honest question, as if he might not know the answer.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She nodded, letting him wipe the tears from her face with his other hand. She leaned in towards him and put her forehead to his.
"Yes," she whispered before she pressed her lips into his. Every moment they share together seems more intimate and personal than the next, even when they are in public. They'd created their own little world, but when they were like this, just the two of them in their bed, truly nothing else existed. Everything in their life were means to the end of them being together every moment they could manage.
He took the ring from the box, and took her hand in his as he slipped it on. She admired it for the first time, realizing yet again how well he knew her, and then leaned in to kiss him again as the world fell further away from them.
She tore her eyes from the ring and looked back at the phone. For days, she had been putting off this task. She put it on her 'to-do' list the morning after he proposed. She sat down and actually wrote down real world implications of his question. He had seen it; it wasn't like she had tried to hide it. She'd tacked it onto the refrigerator after all. He knew this one question would deepen the chasms between them and the lives they'd left behind. It was one of those things that remained unspoken between them. The things he knew that she obsessed over in her mind, and he let her deal with as she saw fit. So the short list that glared at the two of them for the past few days every time they went to make dinner or grab a soda wasn't surprising to him. He'd just be happier when she got it taken care of. She stared at the first item, scrawled in her script with a red Sharpie marker.
1. Call Lorelai.
She looked at it as she went to open the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. She had the cordless in her hand, and after letting the cool liquid roll around in her mouth for a moment she swallowed and dialed the still familiar number despite the infrequency with which it'd been used over the last few years. In her mind, her mother understood her need to be with Jess. She knew that leaving everything else behind was something she had to do, just like Lorelai had left Hartford. But she had no verbal proof of that.
It didn't make dialing any easier, though. She got as far as the first three digits before hitting the Talk button quickly again.
Jess kissed her on the head, leaving her to scour the papers for entry- level publishing or journalism jobs. She was all prepared, her coffee brewed, Danish from the bakery down the block that she'd found two days prior on the coffee table next to the steaming mug. The classified ads in one hand with a yellow highlighter in her other hand signifying her readiness. She heard the door lock, circled one ad and picked up the phone. But instead of dialing the number in front of her, she dialed another one. One that had been invading her thoughts for the last week.
"Hello?"
"Mom?"
"Rory!"
"It's me. I just wanted to call you and tell you... I'm alright."
"Where are you?" she asked in the form of a question, but she already knew. It was the only place she'd ever run to. To him.
"New York. With... Jess."
"Jess."
"Yeah. We got an apartment. I'm looking for a job."
"And you're staying?"
"Yeah. I am."
"You're good?"
"I'm good. I know you don't like this, but I just, had to."
"I know, honey. I know." The resignation and sadness were practically screaming through the even tone she emitted.
"I would have called last week, but I just needed time, to settle."
"Call more?"
"I will."
But she hadn't. Not enough. That was the first time, and since then she could count the number of times she'd called her mom on one hand. She wondered if Jess ever called Luke or his parents. If he did, he never spoke about it. She knew him pretty well; the fact that he liked the broccoli better than the chicken in General Tso's chicken from the place by his work, the fact that he'd sooner leave the house without shoes than without gel in his hair, those things she knew. But sometimes, when they were reading on the couch with their legs tangled up as they sat facing each other under a blanket, she would look up and watch him. She wondered what he thought about in the deep places in his mind. Not the thoughts that got jotted down in the margins, those were things she'd stumble upon months later when she picked up the same book to read. Then she'd wonder if he worried about the things that she kept inside. Frowning, she'd decide not to think about it anymore and refocused her thoughts on the words that covered the pages of the book she'd forgotten about during her musings.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers lightly over the numbers. She took another drink of the cool water and pushed the Talk button again. She got all the numbers dialed and waited, not sure if she was hoping for a person or the machine.
"Hello?"
"Uh, Luke?"
"Yes?"
"It's me, Rory," she said lamely.
"Oh, hi, how are you?"
"I'm good. We're both good," she added.
"Well, good."
"Um, is Mom there by chance?"
"No, she's at the Inn. You can get her on the cell, though."
"Oh, good. I'll try there."
"Wait, we got a new plan, you'll need the number."
She didn't know her own mother's phone number. Reality has a way of knocking the wind out of you. She felt like she'd just been thrown down a flight of stairs as she could only hear the echo of Luke's last words.
"Rory? You there?"
"Yeah, I am. What was the number again?"
Luke repeated the number to her as she scribbled it down on the 'to-do' list on the fridge. She thanked him and they hung up, without any real discussion. Not that she and Luke had ever been wordy. They loved each other for being good to their family: Luke to Lorelai and Rory to Jess.
Another deep breath. She decided that sitting down was probably smart, and took the list off of the fridge, carrying it into the front room with her. She sat on the couch, and dialed the number without thinking about it. It was the only way.
"If it's important, then speak," came her mother's fast voice.
"Mom? Is this a bad time?"
"Rory? Uh, no, hang on a sec, though, okay?"
"Sure," she said, bewildered.
Rory heard some muffled voices, and her mother's working voice tone coming through to her ears. She smiled; remembering the afternoons of her youth spent watching her mother deal with customers, suppliers and charming the pants off anyone with her vicinity. Except Michel of course. The Frenchman was never impressed with one he'd ever met. Not outwardly anyhow. The fact that he'd cried when Sookie and Lorelai asked him to join them at the Dragonfly Inn was quickly dismissed as a bug flying into his eye. A bug from their dirty horse stables, nonetheless.
"Rory?" her mother came back to the receiver.
"Mom, how are you?"
"Busy, but good."
"Good. I just talked to Luke," she informed her.
"Hence, the cell number. I would have called you, but I didn't know how to get a hold of you."
"I know, but now you have it in your memory, right?"
"Yeah, it should be in there. So, how's the paper?"
"It's good. They keep giving me grunt work, but Jess thinks they're almost done testing me."
"What do you think?"
"I think my boss is a sadist. It could go either way," Rory smiled.
"I hope Michel talks about me like this," she giggled.
"I'm sure he does."
"So, no big promotion?"
"No, that's not why I called." Leave it to her mother to cut to the point. "But I do have a reason."
"You have my full attention."
"Jess and I, he, he proposed," she stammered.
"Oh, my," came the surprised response.
"I know. And, I said yes."
"You're getting married?" She could hear the tears forming in her mother's eyes.
"Yeah. I am," Rory affirmed, tearing up a little herself.
"Wow. My baby's getting married."
"We don't have any plans or anything yet. I just, had to tell you."
"Thank you."
"I'll call you when we know more."
"Come home?"
"What?" the sudden request blurted out by her mother threw her for a loop.
"Come home. Come see me."
"Uh, well, sure. Yeah, I can do that," she said hesitantly.
"Bring Jess. I promise, it'll be low key. Just two parties in the town square, and only one with a full on fireworks show," came the sarcasm from her mother.
"Mom," she warned.
"We'll eat. We'll talk. We'll celebrate."
Rory thought as she held the phone to her ear, mentally beginning to figure out how to get Jess to agree to this.
"I'll call you tomorrow and we'll work out details," she promised her mother before hanging up.
She hadn't had to tell Jess anything negative in these past four years. Not that they hadn't fought, had periods of weirdness or thought about ending it all. But they got through it. They'd learned when to leave the other alone, when to drop certain topics and why leaving would just make them more miserable than the worst fight they could ever have. She racked her brain for the ways to tell him. She sat for an hour on the couch, tapping her pencil against the coffee table mindlessly, going through scenarios that would make him amicable to the situation. Meeting him at the door naked. Getting his favorite Thai food for dinner that she hated. Pawning her perfect ring to get him a first edition set of Hemingway's novels. Leather bound. That might do it.
Glancing down at her engagement ring, she frowned deciding that wasn't the way to go. The ring was perfect, an emerald cut sapphire and diamond ring. It was started all this, the list, the calling, the impending trip home. She got an idea, executed it and awaited his return from work.
He came into the apartment, heading straight into the kitchen to put his keys away. Rory, used to never being able to find keys during her youth, decided they needed a key bowl, in a place they wouldn't lose it. Right next to the coffee maker. He noticed the list still on the fridge, but there was an addendum. Under a fiercely scribbled phone number, in bright blue marker there was another numbered item.
5. Go to Stars Hollow with Jess.
"Rory?"
AN: It took me a while to get inspired on how to go with this. I don't want to make it about Rory and Jess getting married, but it got a second chapter out of me. I might skip around in time a lot. We'll see. I don't want a conventional story, so it might take me time between chapters, just to let you know.