CHAPTER 11
Rory woke up to the sound of the heater humming. The rhythmic drone was soothing to her. She wished she could say the same for her soreness. She blinked and realized she was in the most uncomfortable sleeping position she had ever slept in her entire life. She squinted when her eyes focused on the window streaming in sunlight.
Last night came flooding through her memory: the drinks, the jokes and their Mystery Science Theater commentary on the late night TV show. She remembered them squabbling over who would get the bed. The point was moot when both ended up sleeping on the beanie chairs and the floor wrapped up in their blankets as they talked the night away.
The beanie bag she remembered sitting on supported most of her weight. She was surprised that she didn't mind the floor the second night especially with Tristin next to her. If it were Logan, she knew the bed in the corner would've already gotten a merry-go round ride at least once. Rory's eyes were still trying to focus when her sight fell on Tristin. Somehow during the night, he decided to take a prone position on the floor.
Rory tried to stretch out. Surprisingly, other than the soreness, she was well rested. She stared at the sleeping figure across from her. He was so peaceful. She had woken up next to Logan numerous times and never had the urge to stare at him in his most unguarded state.
"Mary, stare at me any longer and you're going to turn me into a frog," he muttered from under his arm.
"Frogs don't do me any good," Rory responded, feeling guilty that he caught her staring at him. "How about morphing you into a cup of coffee?"
"It better be the good stuff," he grumbled, rolling onto his back.
"Good morning," Rory said. "What time did we get to sleep?"
"I lost track after midnight," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
Rory leaned back on the beanie bag. "Did I ever say 'thank you'?" she asked.
"It's my pleasure," he said. Leaning against his elbows to prop himself up, he asked, "You want to use the bathroom first?"
"You promise this time not to barge in on me?" she asked.
"Spoil sport," he grunted. He accidentally walked into Rory in the bathroom the day before. One thing he wasn't in the morning is alert. He went on his daily routine forgetting for a moment he had a guest in his house: at that, a partially naked guest. The second of embarrassment they both experienced was chalked up to old habits. He walked out of the bathroom and she continued getting dressed. Neither spoke of the event.
Rory got up from her seat and retrieved her things from the closet. As soon as she disappeared into the bathroom, Tristin stood up and collected their blankets and tossed them on the bed.
It took him a long time to adjust to liking mornings. Mornings reminded him of the Academy runs. It reminded him of why he had to leave his past without his permission. He had to abandon everything he was comfortable with to suit everyone's needs but his. But he learned to love those mornings. It gave him solace; it became time to himself he didn't have to share with anyone. The long runs are the worst. He usually ended up begging and pleading to whatever deity listened to him. The short jogs gave him just enough time to escape reality. Today, he wasn't going out for his 2-mile jog but he might as well be on runner's high. He was with someone whose company he started liking.
He hummed an old Mr. Big tune in his head. He started brewing fresh coffee in the coffee pot and he retrieved a pan from the oven. Who thought that cooking breakfast for someone would get him motivated?
Rory emerged from the bathroom with a fresh change of clothes and damp hair. To Tristin, the whole set up felt so natural. Even when he was with Jessica, they never had the morning silence or the sunrise banter. Tristin paused. What is he getting himself into?
"So, what are you cooking?" Rory asked, peering over his shoulder.
"I hope at this point, eggs," he pointed out the obvious, looking through his refrigerator. The choice selection of fruits and vegetables in his refrigerator impressed her. Even she and her mother only grew the garden mold variety kind in iceboxes like his.
"You're serious. You're making me breakfast?' she teased.
"Don't push your luck. I've got cereal in the cupboard for you if you keep this up," he threatened playfully.
Tristin put out a spread of onion leeks, bell peppers, an assortment of cheese and Italian sausages for her to choose from. She decided to help him make the omelet.
Ten minutes later, a selection of toast, sausages and the omelet decorated the breakfast nook. Coffee mugs in hand, both of them started eating.
"So, what do you want to do?" Tristin asked.
"I don't know," Rory responded thoughtfully.
"Well, we can walk downtown again before you have to head back to Yale," he suggested.
Rory crinkled her nose at the thought. Despite their lovely walk through New York City, something inside Rory just told her to spend time indoors with Tristin.
"What, not feeling adventurous?" Tristin teased.
"It's not that," Rory said. "I guess I just want to find the New York Times, do the crossword puzzle…"
"In other words, be lazy," Tristin clarified.
"Anything wrong with that?" Rory asked, taking a bite of her omelet.
Tristin smiled at her. "No. It's actually refreshing. I thought you were going to really push shopping today."
"Hmm, no. I'll reserve that next time I wanna see you cry," she teased.
"God, you are evil," he responded.
Their quiet moment was interrupted by a call on Rory's cell phone. She excused herself from the table and answered the call.
"Hello," she responded.
"So, there I was looking at this dress that I think I will use to mom's Christmas dinner. It's got a long slit on the thigh and it can shock mom and give easy access to Luke when he'd want to tease me. You gotta come look at it," Lorelai said, her voice laced with wickedness.
Rory had her back against the window. She was studying Tristin from a distance. "I can't."
"You can't? Ugh, is Blondie keeping you away from mommy again?" Lorelai whined.
"No," Rory responded indignantly. A blush crept from her throat to her face. Her adamant response made Tristin look her way, grinning at her for reacting so passionately. "I am just a little farther than usual this weekend."
"Tell me you actually decided to do the unpredictable and took a trip to Aruba without me," Lorelai said quickly.
"Nothing that drastic," Rory said. "I'm in New York."
"What's in New York?" Lorelai asked, confused.
"Tristin," Rory said trying not to break into a smile.
"No!" Lorelai responded, surprised and delighted at the same time. "Spill!"
"Mom!" Rory might as well have tanned from her constant reddening. Her mother was not making it easy on her to talk about the man that was just a few steps away.
"Ooh, is he naked? Is he a clean freak? Ooh, boxers or briefs?" Lorelai asked in rapid succession.
"No, somewhat and I don't know," Rory responded.
"You are no fun," Lorelai grumbled. "Let me talk to Rebel."
"Why?" Rory questioned.
"Because I'm your mom and you follow orders implicitly," Lorelai confidently responded.
Rory sighed and pulled the device away from her ear. She walked towards Tristin and offered her phone to him. "Mom wants to talk to you."
Tristin shook his head and took the phone from her.
"Hello? Hi, Lorelai…" Tristin responded, charming her mother like she was the only woman on the face of the earth. Rory was quite amused, playing with her food until he got off the phone with her mother who didn't bother to say goodbye to her one more time before hanging up.
"So, what did mom ask you?" Rory interrogated Tristin.
"Jealous?" he asked.
"Scared," Rory replied. "She asks the queerest questions."
"It's boxer briefs, by the way," he responded, a leer forming on his face.
"Why would I want to know that information?" Rory retorted, her face getting warm again. She hated being susceptible to his teasing.
"Your mom told me to tell you so that you know the answer the next time she asks you again," he chuckled.
Rory grumbled at him, getting up to get another cup of coffee. "Other than you conspiring with my mom to humiliate me, what did she want?"
"She asked me to bundle you up and do something you were supposed to do with her when fresh powder had fallen," he said mysteriously.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You'll see," he responded to her query.
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"Inconceivable!" Rory yelled out from the snow.
"Now if there's anything more daring than this, I want to know what it is because I would've not ever thought of this in a million years!" Tristin yelled back.
They found themselves in the middle of Central Park making snow angels courtesy of Lorelai Gilmore.
"Only my mom would put you up to this," Rory said, giggling. She didn't care that her only fresh pair of jeans were soaking wet from the snow.
Tristin sat up and stared at her. "It's better than a snowball fight!" he announced, throwing at her a freshly packed ball.
"Stinker!" Rory yelled out. She tried extracting revenge at him by hitting him with a ball of her own. Unfortunately, she was not as successful in hitting her aim.
They got up from their snow angels and ran around in circles like kids. They laughed and hollered, attracting dirty looks from day walkers and runners. They started as two and as the minutes passed, children, young and old, joined them tagging each other with the snow. Tristin and Rory finally quit when children, half their age, were pelting them.
"That was fun," Rory said, walking away from the still continuing snowball fight, now complete with a fortified wall and more adults than one could count.
"I can't believe you can throw!" Tristin complimented her.
Rory punched him on the shoulder. "You were not playing fair."
"Would've your mom pulled the same trick?" Tristin asked.
Rory was tongue-tied. "Well- yes," she hesitated saying.
"Okay then," he said with finality.
"But she doesn't throw as hard as you do!" she responded. Suddenly, it dawned on her. "Mom put you up to this, too!"
"Her wish is my command," he said.
"Brown noser!" she mocked.
Tristin threw his head back in laughter. He extended his arm and threw it over Rory's shoulders. "Just be thankful I didn't do what your mom really wanted me to do."
"And what's that?' she asked.
"Shove snow down your back," he told her frankly.
"Thank you," Rory responded.
"Oh don't worry," he said. "I'll be keeping my word to your mom."
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The only thing Rory hated about winter is how early the sun set over the horizon. Dusk came too soon. That Sunday afternoon, she felt culpable for not wanting to get back to Yale.
Tristin stood by her on the platform, not wanting her to go. But the clock was ticking and he knew the storybook ending had to be read.
"Oh crap, I forgot to get a souvenir," Rory muttered out loud.
"What?" Tristin asked.
"A souvenir!" she said. "Mom said that wherever I go, I should always get a souvenir. That way I can always remember what happened."
"Take this," Tristin said. He reached over from behind his neck and undid the clasp of his necklace. It was his St. Christopher medal given to him on his Christening Day.
"I can't ," Rory hesitated.
"Well," he said, trying to put the necklace around her neck. "It's a temporary souvenir until you can come back to New York."
Rory took the gift without another word.
Tristin patted the medal when it settled between her collarbones.
The overhead system announced the arrival of Rory's ride.
"That's me," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered back.
"I had a wonderful weekend," she said.
"Yeah," he said with a heavy heart.
Rory started walking away when Tristin called out to her.
"Rory!" he yelled.
She turned around to face him.
"Be careful around Huntzberger," he warned her.
"What do you mean?" she quizzically asked.
"Just promise me," he urgently advised her.
Rory nodded to him before boarding her ride.
Her ride pulled away from the platform. Her thoughts were accompanied with "I Want You to Want Me" playing in the background quietly.
Tristin walked away whistling "Wild World". Then, a wild thought entered his head. Maybe Logan needed a dose of his own medicine.
"Logan, what the hell were you thinking?" he said over the phone.