Author's Notes: Wow! I never expected such a positive response so
quickly. You've all warmed my heart. And now that I understand the power
of reviews first hand, I promise to not be so lax in my own reviewing.
Quite a few of you expressed wanting to know the content of Jess' letter, and it will be in this chapter, though I don't know if it's what you're expecting. I hope no one is disappointed.
Also, someone raised the question of whether Lily's hair was perhaps brown and not blonde. If I remember correctly (and it's possible I don't) it was sort of an in-between shade that could go either way. My own hair is that sort of color, and I refer to it as blonde, so that's what I went with. If it is in fact brown . . . well, let's just pretend, shall we? ( Now, on with the story!
Disclaimer: I own nothing thus far other than the plot. All events through the end of Season 3 have occurred, but I'm trying to stay spoiler free for the upcoming season. Any similarities between what I've written and what will occur in Season 4 are coincidence. Chapter titles are borrowed from various Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers songs. I don't own those either.
Chapter Two: When We're Least Expecting It
Wednesday Afternoon in Connecticut
Rory tumbled through the front door with a grateful sigh. She was so glad to be home. Yale was great, but she hadn't counted on Paris as a roommate. Sure, it had sounded like a good idea, living with someone she already knew, but the Gilmore organizational method of controlled chaos did not mesh with Paris' rigidity. The four day holiday weekend was long overdue. She smiled widely thinking that the holiday also meant dinner with the Kim's, Luke, and Sookie. She was just beginning to daydream about eating until she exploded when the door burst open behind her, and she was nearly knocked to the floor by her mother charging in, bobbling keys, coffee cup, and mail.
"No!" Lorelai whined, almost stamping her foot on the floor like a child. "I wanted to be here when you got home! Stupid Kirk!"
"What did Kirk do now?" Rory almost dreaded hearing his latest scheme/catastrophe.
"He stopped me outside Doose's all crazy eyed and frantic . . . "
Rory laughed, "That's not new."
" . . . babbling about being the mascot for the inn. He wants to dress up like a dragonfly and greet people when they check in."
"And yet, that's not the craziest thing he suggested this week," Rory pointed out.
"Nope," Lorelai agreed. "It might actually be time to suggest he go on some sort of medication. Or at the very least start following him with a hidden camera. There's money to be made off his weirdness, I can feel it."
"Maybe the psychology department will want him for a case study. I'll ask around," Rory promised, watching Lorelai sort through the mail in her hand.
Lorelai sighed, "Bill, bill, bill. Why don't these people understand that I have no money. Oh, hey! This one's for you." She thrust the envelope into Rory's hand and then wrapped her in a hug. "I missed you, Gilmore."
"I was just here two weeks ago, Mom," Rory said, returning the hug and letting her mother drag her further into the house.
Lorelai sighed melodramatically, "And it was the longest two weeks of my life! Tonight, we order from Al's, and you'll tell me all about why Paris called here the other night shrieking about paper clips and color coding folders."
Rory giggled, "Yeah, that's a good story. You go change, and I'll call for food." She was still laughing as Lorelai disappeared upstairs. Snatching up the phone, Rory headed to the kitchen for the menu drawer, but stopped at the table when she remembered that the letter her mother had given her was still in her hand. She turned it over to see who it was from, and the phone dropped from her suddenly limp fingers.
The white rectangle was innocuous enough from the back, but the front was an entirely different story. Familiar lettering stood out in bold relief on the stark surface. She glanced at the return address, and her heart skipped while her stomach rolled. Venice, California. No name, but she only knew of one person there. Jess.
It would be a lie to say she never thought about him. She thought about him at least once a day. Something would happen in one of her classes and she'd think, 'Oh, Jess'll love this,' only to remember he wasn't around to hear about it. Even after six months, and despite what she tried to make herself believe, she wasn't truly over him. Did she want to open the letter and that wound again?
Apparently she did. Shaking fingers turned over the envelope and slid under the edge of the flap. The glue gave with a small tear, and a single folded sheet of paper fell into her hand. The thin sheet crinkled as she unfolded it.
I know I loved you. I'm sorry. Jess
That was it. There was nothing else written on the sheet, but it was more than enough. Rory sank shakily to the floor and buried her head in her upraised knees. Lorelai found her in the same position when she came into the kitchen five minutes later.
"So what did you order . . . Rory! What's wrong?" Lorelai knelt next to her daughter on the floor. "Sweetie? What's the matter?"
Rory refused to raise her head, but she held out the letter. Lorelai took it and read it repeatedly, making sure she was really seeing it.
"Oh, Rory, honey." Pulling Rory into her lap, Lorelai whispered soothing nonsense words into her daughter's hair.
She wasn't crying, but Rory couldn't stop her body from shaking like she was. It was strange. Maybe her tear ducts were broken. Could you break your tear ducts? She didn't think so, but that must be it because otherwise there would be tears. Her hand came up and rubbed at her eyes, and she jolted when it came away wet. "Oh . . . "
Lorelai looked down at Rory. "What?"
"I am crying," Rory whispered. "I didn't think I was. I couldn't tell. What do you think that means? That I can't tell if I'm crying?"
"I think that means that maybe you're not ready to deal with this right now."
Rory didn't respond, just sniffed and buried her head in her mother's shoulder. As she continued to cry she couldn't help wondering exactly when she would be able to deal with it. With him.
**********
The Next Morning
Rory hadn't slept at all. She spent the entire night curled in a ball on her bed, alternately re-reading the letter, crying, and remembering the year before. It was only a little over a year ago that she and Jess had gotten together. At this time last year, they were still finding their comfort zone together, learning new little things about each other everyday. She remembered him sneaking up on her outside the market and kissing her in the middle of the street. She remembered how she had balked and pushed him into a corner before continuing to kiss him. He'd been upset that she wasn't comfortable with him kissing her in front of others, but he'd also understood. And it wasn't like she'd never warmed to kissing him in public. By Christmas they'd perfected kissing and walking at the same time. That memory made her smile.
Other memories didn't make her smile. She remembered the night he came to meet her grandmother with a black eye and when he'd lied about going to school. She remembered Kyle's party and not going to the prom. She remembered the last time she saw him on the bus to Hartford. He didn't even say good-bye. He never said good-bye.
Groaning in frustration, she threw off the covers and pulled on an old pair of jeans and a sweater. It was only 6:30, but she knew she'd be welcome where she was going. She quietly opened the kitchen door and slipped out, being careful not to wake her mother. Minutes later, she'd reached her destination.
Luke spotted her before she even had to knock on the glass of the door. He unlocked the door and let her in.
"Everything all right, Rory? I didn't think you or your mother even knew this time of day existed." He poured her a cup of coffee without asking if she wanted it and set it before her on the counter.
"We're fine." Rory sipped gently at the hot liquid and sighed. "Um, Luke? You went to visit Jess, right?"
Luke wasn't sure he should answer her, but the almost pleading tone in Rory's voice told him he had to tell her the truth. "Sort of. I brought him some of his books and stuff when I went on vacation at the end of August. We didn't talk much, but I saw him."
"Oh. So, then, maybe you might have a phone number for where he's living?"
"Rory, why are you asking about Jess all of a sudden? I thought you were over him."
She took a shaking breath, "I got a . . . he sent . . . a letter came yesterday."
The spoons Luke was sorting clattered to the floor. "A letter? What kind of letter?" Please let the boy have apologized. He couldn't stand the haunted look that filled Rory's eyes occasionally when she came in and stared at the curtain leading upstairs.
"Well, it was sort a personal letter." Rory gnawed at her lower lip while watching Luke pick up the dropped spoons. "I was just hoping that I could get his phone number so I could talk to him."
He sighed and nodded, "Okay. It's upstairs. Do you want to come up or . . . "
"No!" Rory yelped and then blushed at her outburst. "I mean, that's okay. I'll just wait right here."
Luke smiled as gently as he could at the jittery young woman in front of him. Of course she didn't want to go upstairs. Jess' bed and a small pile of his stuff was still up there. "Okay, I'll be right back."
Rory tapped her fingers nervously on the counter. She was doing the right thing, wasn't she? She had to deal with this situation with Jess. A letter may have worked for him, but she needed to hear things in his voice, needed to talk them out. It wouldn't work any other way; that's what she'd decided somewhere around three this morning.
Luke's footsteps pounded loudly on the stairs. He brushed the curtain aside and came around to sit next to Rory. With a heavy sigh, he handed her a note card with a phone number hastily scribbled on it.
"That's his dad's number in California. As far as I know he's still staying there, and if he isn't Jimmy'll probably know where Jess is at." Luke looked out of the corner of his eye at Rory. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"No," she sighed, "but want to or not, I have to. I have to actually deal with the way he left instead of pretending that it's okay and that it doesn't bother me."
Luke nodded. He understood what she was dealing with. Jess had bailed on him as well, and it was hard to understand when the kid was so tight lipped about how he felt. "Do what you need to do, Rory. Don't let him get away with this anymore."
"Thanks, Luke." She folded the card and slipped it carefully into her pocket. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"I'll save you and your mom a turkey."
Rory laughed softly, and, almost without thinking, leaned over and hugged Luke. "I'll let you know how it goes," she told him.
Luke shook his head, "You don't have to do that."
"He hurt you, too. I'll let you know." Setting her shoulders, Rory walked out of the diner with a determination she hadn't felt in a long time. She was going to call Jess. Tomorrow. Or possibly Saturday. But she was definitely going to call him. Maybe.
Quite a few of you expressed wanting to know the content of Jess' letter, and it will be in this chapter, though I don't know if it's what you're expecting. I hope no one is disappointed.
Also, someone raised the question of whether Lily's hair was perhaps brown and not blonde. If I remember correctly (and it's possible I don't) it was sort of an in-between shade that could go either way. My own hair is that sort of color, and I refer to it as blonde, so that's what I went with. If it is in fact brown . . . well, let's just pretend, shall we? ( Now, on with the story!
Disclaimer: I own nothing thus far other than the plot. All events through the end of Season 3 have occurred, but I'm trying to stay spoiler free for the upcoming season. Any similarities between what I've written and what will occur in Season 4 are coincidence. Chapter titles are borrowed from various Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers songs. I don't own those either.
Chapter Two: When We're Least Expecting It
Wednesday Afternoon in Connecticut
Rory tumbled through the front door with a grateful sigh. She was so glad to be home. Yale was great, but she hadn't counted on Paris as a roommate. Sure, it had sounded like a good idea, living with someone she already knew, but the Gilmore organizational method of controlled chaos did not mesh with Paris' rigidity. The four day holiday weekend was long overdue. She smiled widely thinking that the holiday also meant dinner with the Kim's, Luke, and Sookie. She was just beginning to daydream about eating until she exploded when the door burst open behind her, and she was nearly knocked to the floor by her mother charging in, bobbling keys, coffee cup, and mail.
"No!" Lorelai whined, almost stamping her foot on the floor like a child. "I wanted to be here when you got home! Stupid Kirk!"
"What did Kirk do now?" Rory almost dreaded hearing his latest scheme/catastrophe.
"He stopped me outside Doose's all crazy eyed and frantic . . . "
Rory laughed, "That's not new."
" . . . babbling about being the mascot for the inn. He wants to dress up like a dragonfly and greet people when they check in."
"And yet, that's not the craziest thing he suggested this week," Rory pointed out.
"Nope," Lorelai agreed. "It might actually be time to suggest he go on some sort of medication. Or at the very least start following him with a hidden camera. There's money to be made off his weirdness, I can feel it."
"Maybe the psychology department will want him for a case study. I'll ask around," Rory promised, watching Lorelai sort through the mail in her hand.
Lorelai sighed, "Bill, bill, bill. Why don't these people understand that I have no money. Oh, hey! This one's for you." She thrust the envelope into Rory's hand and then wrapped her in a hug. "I missed you, Gilmore."
"I was just here two weeks ago, Mom," Rory said, returning the hug and letting her mother drag her further into the house.
Lorelai sighed melodramatically, "And it was the longest two weeks of my life! Tonight, we order from Al's, and you'll tell me all about why Paris called here the other night shrieking about paper clips and color coding folders."
Rory giggled, "Yeah, that's a good story. You go change, and I'll call for food." She was still laughing as Lorelai disappeared upstairs. Snatching up the phone, Rory headed to the kitchen for the menu drawer, but stopped at the table when she remembered that the letter her mother had given her was still in her hand. She turned it over to see who it was from, and the phone dropped from her suddenly limp fingers.
The white rectangle was innocuous enough from the back, but the front was an entirely different story. Familiar lettering stood out in bold relief on the stark surface. She glanced at the return address, and her heart skipped while her stomach rolled. Venice, California. No name, but she only knew of one person there. Jess.
It would be a lie to say she never thought about him. She thought about him at least once a day. Something would happen in one of her classes and she'd think, 'Oh, Jess'll love this,' only to remember he wasn't around to hear about it. Even after six months, and despite what she tried to make herself believe, she wasn't truly over him. Did she want to open the letter and that wound again?
Apparently she did. Shaking fingers turned over the envelope and slid under the edge of the flap. The glue gave with a small tear, and a single folded sheet of paper fell into her hand. The thin sheet crinkled as she unfolded it.
I know I loved you. I'm sorry. Jess
That was it. There was nothing else written on the sheet, but it was more than enough. Rory sank shakily to the floor and buried her head in her upraised knees. Lorelai found her in the same position when she came into the kitchen five minutes later.
"So what did you order . . . Rory! What's wrong?" Lorelai knelt next to her daughter on the floor. "Sweetie? What's the matter?"
Rory refused to raise her head, but she held out the letter. Lorelai took it and read it repeatedly, making sure she was really seeing it.
"Oh, Rory, honey." Pulling Rory into her lap, Lorelai whispered soothing nonsense words into her daughter's hair.
She wasn't crying, but Rory couldn't stop her body from shaking like she was. It was strange. Maybe her tear ducts were broken. Could you break your tear ducts? She didn't think so, but that must be it because otherwise there would be tears. Her hand came up and rubbed at her eyes, and she jolted when it came away wet. "Oh . . . "
Lorelai looked down at Rory. "What?"
"I am crying," Rory whispered. "I didn't think I was. I couldn't tell. What do you think that means? That I can't tell if I'm crying?"
"I think that means that maybe you're not ready to deal with this right now."
Rory didn't respond, just sniffed and buried her head in her mother's shoulder. As she continued to cry she couldn't help wondering exactly when she would be able to deal with it. With him.
**********
The Next Morning
Rory hadn't slept at all. She spent the entire night curled in a ball on her bed, alternately re-reading the letter, crying, and remembering the year before. It was only a little over a year ago that she and Jess had gotten together. At this time last year, they were still finding their comfort zone together, learning new little things about each other everyday. She remembered him sneaking up on her outside the market and kissing her in the middle of the street. She remembered how she had balked and pushed him into a corner before continuing to kiss him. He'd been upset that she wasn't comfortable with him kissing her in front of others, but he'd also understood. And it wasn't like she'd never warmed to kissing him in public. By Christmas they'd perfected kissing and walking at the same time. That memory made her smile.
Other memories didn't make her smile. She remembered the night he came to meet her grandmother with a black eye and when he'd lied about going to school. She remembered Kyle's party and not going to the prom. She remembered the last time she saw him on the bus to Hartford. He didn't even say good-bye. He never said good-bye.
Groaning in frustration, she threw off the covers and pulled on an old pair of jeans and a sweater. It was only 6:30, but she knew she'd be welcome where she was going. She quietly opened the kitchen door and slipped out, being careful not to wake her mother. Minutes later, she'd reached her destination.
Luke spotted her before she even had to knock on the glass of the door. He unlocked the door and let her in.
"Everything all right, Rory? I didn't think you or your mother even knew this time of day existed." He poured her a cup of coffee without asking if she wanted it and set it before her on the counter.
"We're fine." Rory sipped gently at the hot liquid and sighed. "Um, Luke? You went to visit Jess, right?"
Luke wasn't sure he should answer her, but the almost pleading tone in Rory's voice told him he had to tell her the truth. "Sort of. I brought him some of his books and stuff when I went on vacation at the end of August. We didn't talk much, but I saw him."
"Oh. So, then, maybe you might have a phone number for where he's living?"
"Rory, why are you asking about Jess all of a sudden? I thought you were over him."
She took a shaking breath, "I got a . . . he sent . . . a letter came yesterday."
The spoons Luke was sorting clattered to the floor. "A letter? What kind of letter?" Please let the boy have apologized. He couldn't stand the haunted look that filled Rory's eyes occasionally when she came in and stared at the curtain leading upstairs.
"Well, it was sort a personal letter." Rory gnawed at her lower lip while watching Luke pick up the dropped spoons. "I was just hoping that I could get his phone number so I could talk to him."
He sighed and nodded, "Okay. It's upstairs. Do you want to come up or . . . "
"No!" Rory yelped and then blushed at her outburst. "I mean, that's okay. I'll just wait right here."
Luke smiled as gently as he could at the jittery young woman in front of him. Of course she didn't want to go upstairs. Jess' bed and a small pile of his stuff was still up there. "Okay, I'll be right back."
Rory tapped her fingers nervously on the counter. She was doing the right thing, wasn't she? She had to deal with this situation with Jess. A letter may have worked for him, but she needed to hear things in his voice, needed to talk them out. It wouldn't work any other way; that's what she'd decided somewhere around three this morning.
Luke's footsteps pounded loudly on the stairs. He brushed the curtain aside and came around to sit next to Rory. With a heavy sigh, he handed her a note card with a phone number hastily scribbled on it.
"That's his dad's number in California. As far as I know he's still staying there, and if he isn't Jimmy'll probably know where Jess is at." Luke looked out of the corner of his eye at Rory. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"No," she sighed, "but want to or not, I have to. I have to actually deal with the way he left instead of pretending that it's okay and that it doesn't bother me."
Luke nodded. He understood what she was dealing with. Jess had bailed on him as well, and it was hard to understand when the kid was so tight lipped about how he felt. "Do what you need to do, Rory. Don't let him get away with this anymore."
"Thanks, Luke." She folded the card and slipped it carefully into her pocket. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"I'll save you and your mom a turkey."
Rory laughed softly, and, almost without thinking, leaned over and hugged Luke. "I'll let you know how it goes," she told him.
Luke shook his head, "You don't have to do that."
"He hurt you, too. I'll let you know." Setting her shoulders, Rory walked out of the diner with a determination she hadn't felt in a long time. She was going to call Jess. Tomorrow. Or possibly Saturday. But she was definitely going to call him. Maybe.