Disclaimer: Still not mine. Some of it is, but mostly not.
The ride back to White Plains was fairly silent. Both Rory and Tristan were thinking about Jess, and Jake was concerned for Ambrose. His best friend had shirked off talking about his parents, saying only that at least the fighting might stop. Jake couldn't imagine how he'd feel if his mom just left. It wasn't like his parents didn't fight, but it was really obvious that they knew how to make up as well.
Ella flipped on her cell phone, scrolling through the phonebook. Frowning, she realized she really only wanted to talk to one person, and she wasn't about to do that in a silent car filled with her family members.
"Mom?" She leaned up between the two front seats, her elbows resting on the top of her parents' seats.
"Yeah, Sweets?"
"When are we going back to visit Gramma again?"
Rory smiled, and snuck a look at her husband. Neither of them bought her given reason for wanting to visit Stars Hollow again so soon.
"Aren't you the girl who thought that her life was ending because we had to go out to the 'sticks'?" Rory chided.
"I never get a simple answer, do I?"
"I mean, you should be thrilled, we're headed home. Tomorrow you'll be back amongst your friends, in the big city," she continued.
"Dad?"
"I'm afraid it's up to your mom," he was enjoying Rory's antics. He'd really hoped he would have gone senile before Ella started seriously dating, but at least Rory made it tolerable for him.
"Probably not for a couple of weeks. You guys have finals, and we're both got a lot of work to do next month," she gave in, giving her daughter a real answer.
"Oh."
As much fun as she was to tease, Rory hated seeing the look of disappointment on her daughter's face. She remembered all too well what it felt like to be separated from Tristan during college.
"It'll fly by, Els," she assured her. "You've got finals, and you'll be hearing about Early Decision soon."
Ella smiled, hoping her mother was right. She sat back and tried to space out by watching the cars go past as her father continued on their way home.
&&&&
Jess made the kids flip for shotgun, and Jules won. This basically meant one thing: control of the CD player. What he did find odd was that his kids were being very agreeable. Not that they fought a lot, but confined spaces and music choices were usually enough to push them over the edge. Ambrose handed Jules a CD, and she wordlessly popped it in. He became more suspicious as The Clash began streaming from the speakers. He eyed them—both reading. Either he'd taught them really well, or they were up to something.
Jess turned down the volume on the stereo. Still no response from his Pod-children.
"Guys?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
In stereo response. He inwardly groaned.
"Okay, that's it. What gives?"
Jules looked at her father. "What do you mean?"
"Look, I appreciate the best behavior for poor Dad bit," he began, "But knock it off, it's creeping me out."
"We just thought you had enough to deal with," Ambrose sighed.
"I appreciate the concern, but let me deal with it, okay? You guys have finals. Jules, just focus on catching up a little, and you," he looked in his rearview mirror, "Please don't get me dragged to the Headmaster's office again?"
Ambrose nodded, appreciating his father's choice of words. The three went back to their tasks: the kids reading, and Jess cranking The Clash as he continued on the way home.
&&&&
Will sat down next to his mother at the counter. His father was nowhere to be seen, presumably in the storeroom of the diner.
"Hey, kiddo, want some coffee?" Lorelai asked brightly.
"I guess."
"You okay?"
Will shrugged, not getting up to retrieve his own coffee as he normally did.
"How about a donut? Ruin your dinner?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," she said, her tone matching his level of seriousness.
"If someone you love is in trouble, and they can't help themselves, you should help them, right?"
"Is this about Anna?"
He nodded.
"Will, how serious is this?"
"It's bad, Mom. She confided in me, but now it's like she's shutting me out, too."
"Aw, Hon, if she's really hurting, she needs you to be there, no matter how much she shuts you out."
"I know, I just don't know what to do."
"Is she in some kind of danger?"
"No, she's not."
"Are you sure, because if she is, no matter what she says, you should tell someone," she urged.
"I'm sure. And I would," he assured her.
"Well, then, short of details, I'd say just be her friend."
"Right. Her friend," he said slowly as his dad appeared, asking what the two wanted to eat.
&&&&
Rory collapsed on the bed after getting the bags in, messages checked, and the mail sorted. Tristan walked into the room, noting his wife's position. She'd landed face down, her legs dangling half off the side.
"You okay?" he laughed, nudging her side with one finger.
"Ihvmph," she uttered into the pillow.
He climbed on the bed and grabbed her hips so he could roll her towards the middle of the bed. Now face up, her arm slung itself over her eyes to block out any light.
"Wanna try that again?"
"Let's never leave the house again."
"Can we confine ourselves to the bedroom and send the kids to boarding schools?"
"Yeah, okay," she shrugged.
"They might have a slight problem with that. And who would feed us?"
"So, we keep them here."
"To cook."
"And work."
"Damn."
"What?"
"Child labor laws."
"Damn government."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," she yawned.
"Hungry?" he asked, smoothing hair off her forehead.
"Sleepy," she said, removing her arm from her eyes.
He smiled at her and nodded. Just as he sat up, the phone rang.
"Not it," they both said.
"The machine'll get it," he reasoned.
"Jess," she muttered.
"What?"
"It might be Jess."
"So, I'll get it?"
She nodded.
"Of course, what was I thinking?" he asked dryly, as he reached out to the nightstand for the phone.
"Dugrey residence."
"Yes, hello. May I speak with Ella?"
'And so it begins,' he thought to himself. Not that boys didn't call to speak with his daughter all the time. But he knew she really wanted to talk to this boy. But that didn't mean he couldn't take his dear sweet time and have fun before she did talk to him. Maybe even change young Billy's mind about wanting to, even.
"It's awfully late to be calling on a young lady," Tristan said, his voice stern. Rory looked up at her husband, trying to swat him with her hand, but he ducked out of her way.
"Yes, sir, I suppose it is, but she'd asked me to call her," Billy explained in vain.
"Well, Ella doesn't exactly make the rules of the house," Tristan informed him. "She is my daughter, after all, and as her father, I've made these rules to protect her."
"Yes, sir," Billy agreed. "So, is it at all possible for me to talk to her?"
"Well, I suppose, assuming she sees fit to come to the phone. Whom may I say is calling?"
"It's Billy, Billy Melville."
"Of course. Just a moment, Billy."
Tristan put the phone to his chest and called for his daughter.
"You are evil," Rory glared at him.
"Please, I'm trying to look out for the best interest of our daughter."
"You're evil, AND you're enjoying your evil ways."
"Dad?" Ella stood in the doorway to her parents' bedroom.
"There's a Billy Melville on the phone for you."
"Oh, you were mean, weren't you?" she said, lunging for the phone, but he held it just out of reach.
"I wasn't mean!"
"Tristan, give her the phone!" Rory admonished him.
"Daddy!"
Grinning, he handed over the phone, and she disappeared into her room before answering.
"Evil," Rory said again, slipping under the covers.
"All in a day's work," he smirked as he made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth.