Title: Too Close For Comfort
Chapter Eight: Here It Comes...
A/N: Dude. Thanks for the multiple reviews. Reviews are muy awesome. This fun chapter covers a lot of time. There are multiple dreams. The paragraph without punctuation is all thoughts. Goodness, gracious, not a lot more left! Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated, and the next chapter should be up MUCH quicker than this one.
Also, thanks soo much to Tina, who beta'd this chapter for me and gave me fabulous feedback and made this chapter that much better.
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"Mommy! Mommy! Watch me, Mommy! Watch me!"
I opened my eyes behind my sunglasses. My six-year-old son was jumping up and down on our pool deck, his wet dark hair plastered to his forehead and a gigantic grin on his face.
"Mommy, are you watching? Are you watching, Mommy?"
"I'm watching, baby," I called.
He reached for his goggles and slid them back over his eyes, readying himself for his stunt. He edged slowly to the pool, curled his toes over the side of the deck, and held his hands together in a point toward the water. He breathed in deep, readying himself, and then suddenly dropped out of his pose.
"Meredith! Get out of the way!"
"No." My four-year-old daughter stuck her tongue out, twirling in her plastic ring in the water.
"Mom! Meredith's in my way!"
"Nuh-uh, am not!"
"Meredith, move to the other side of the pool. Lee, don't yell."
"Fine," Meredith pouted her way to the other side of the shallow end, turning back to watch her big brother jump.
"Are you watching, Momma?" Lee asked again.
"I'm watching."
He repeated his pose, took another deep breath, and plunged. The "dive" was more of a belly flop, but as a mother, everything your child makes is beautiful.
"Whoo!" I clapped and cheered. "Great job!"
"Watch me too, Mommy, watch me!" Meredith, not to be outdone, started twirling in her plastic ring again, raising her arms above her head like a ballerina.
"Very nice, sweetie!" I called, before checking once more they were okay and closing my eyes. My youngest one, two-year-old Ryan, had been up all night sick, and so I was dead tired.
"Rory. Rory. Rory."
I opened my eyes with reluctance. The face was backlit by the sun, but I could tell it was a guy with dark hair and a nice smile. I smiled back.
"You fell asleep," he said, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Where are the kids?" I asked, putting my hands on the sides of the lounge chair to try to sit up. He put a hand on my arm to stop me and said, "I took them inside and stuck them in the tub. They're drying off in front of the TV."
"Ryan?"
"Sleeping. She's almost as tired as you are." He smiled again, and I smiled back. "Come on inside, Ror." He leaned down and kissed me sweetly.
I suddenly woke up before the kiss was over. I sighed, and sat up. What a weird dream. Three kids all two years apart, a pool deck, an apparently cute husband figure, and a feeling I was pregnant. I smoothed my nightshirt over my seven-and-a-half months along stomach and glanced around the dark common room.
"Great," I muttered. Halfway through my homework, my pregnancy-caused fatigue had conked me out on the couch, and now it was almost four in the morning. "Why didn't anyone wake me?" I groaned, sitting up and putting a hand on the small of my back. Suddenly, the day after my baby shower in Stars Hollow, every single horrible third trimester symptom had hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt literal, too. I was so tired all the time it was all I could do to keep my eyes open during my two classes, and during the young mother meetings, which I attended faithfully on Mondays and Wednesdays, though I mainly slept on the couch in the back of the room. Iliana sat next to me, and every once in a while she'd poke me to wake me up, but mainly she let me sleep. Besides the fatigue, my back was killing me, my breasts were tender, none of my maternity clothes seemed to want to fit, and whenever I complained I sounded like a pregnancy textbook.
I sighed and picked up my homework from where it had dropped on the floor. The paper was bent, but it was readable, and I only had three more questions. I angled myself as unawkwardly as possible and finished my homework.
---
"What are you doing today?" Paris asked, rushing up to me at breakfast.
"Well, I've got class at eleven, a doctor's appointment at four and the young mothers meeting at seven, but other than that I'm free. Why?"
"I've got to talk to you."
"Okay, why don't you–"I gestured to the seat facing me, but Paris shook her head and rushed off as quickly as she had rushed up. I watched her go, noticing that she didn't take the time to chew out the guy that stopped in front of her and stood there for almost thirty whole seconds. That was worrisome.
---
After my class but before my doctor's appointment, I was watching Footloose, the latest movie in Mom's necessity movie collection that she claimed had something to do with pregnancy–but in reality were just her favorite movies–when my cell phone rang, singing its little scale over and over again all the way in my room. Because Paris and Tanna were in class and Janet was currently running around the campus, I was forced to get up myself and waddle from the living room to my room and find my purse and then my phone. By the time I found it and answered, I was slightly out of breath.
"Hello?"
"Rory!"
"Lane?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered. "Listen, is today a busy day for you?"
"Kind of. I've got a doctor's appointment at four, and at some point Paris 'needs to talk to me', and then I've got my meeting at seven."
"What time is your meeting over?"
"Depends. Tonight's supposed to be quick, so seven-fifteen or seven-thirty or so."
"Can you get over here as soon as it's over?"
"Why? What's wrong?" It's never good when your best friend asks you to come over as soon as possible.
"Your mom's not doing too well. I mean, she's not sick or anything. She's just...I think she and your dad are having trouble. She's currently crying into her fourth pot of coffee."
"Oh, God. Should I call her?"
"Oh, no, she'd just deny it. But she couldn't deny it to your face."
"Okay. I'll come over right after the meeting."
"Okay, good. Oh, and the other thing?" she added, very non-chalantly.
"There's another thing?" I sighed.
"Yeah. Um, Dave's back."
"Lane!" I exclaimed.
"Gotta go," she hedged. "See you later." She hung up quickly.
"What is going on today?" I asked the air as I dropped my phone back into my purse.
-----
"Mail call!" Iliana called, walking into the suite living room half after three. I quickly got off of my bed and waddled into the living room, just in time to watch her yell, "Gilmore!" and throw an envelope onto the floor.
"Iliana," I complained. "I'm forced to waddle." I gestured to my ever-growing stomach. She grimaced and ceded: "Fine. I'll bend down and pick it up for you." She grinned as she handed it to me.
I hadn't even glanced at the address when she said in a curious voice, "Who's Jess?"
I almost choked and finally stared at the envelope. Yep. Sure enough, the return address was for Jess Mariano. I darted a glance at Iliana and ripped open the envelope. I dropped it on the floor and stared at the letter.
Dear Rory,
Hey. How are you? Just writing to tell you that I visited my mom, only to find that my mom has foregone alcohol for the Ren Faire circuit, so I'm currently alone here in New York.
I guess what I'm putting off is visiting Luke. I'm gonna do it soon, though. Mainly I'm writing to tell you of my impending trip to Luke because of something he said the last time I passed through. You know, when I wrote and left you those other letters? He said something about, "If she hasn't told you yet, she doesn't want you to know."
Rory, what haven't you told me? Apparently you don't want me to know, but I do want to know, and I'm telling you that when I pass through there again, I will find you and learn what it is you don't want me to know.
Don't keep secrets from me, Rory. When you do that, you become me.
Jess
"Uh!" I exclaimed, throwing the letter down. "Sanctimonious bastard."
"The father, huh?" Iliana asked, leaning to pick the letter up from the floor. "Oh, sweetie, that's not too bad."
I glared at her, rubbing my hands protectively over my stomach.
"What haven't you told him?" She looked up at me, and within half a second she got it. "Oh, Rory," she whispered, lowering the letter.
"Keep reading," I commanded her, pointing. "Get to the point about becoming him."
"Rory, sweetie, you didn't tell him you were pregnant?"
"No," I mumbled.
"Oh, Rory, bad idea." Iliana shook her head.
I felt a sudden stab of anger in my chest and grabbed the letter from her. "Have you ever gone through this? No. You don't know what it feels like."
"Oh, sweetie," Iliana sighed and sat down. "You're right. I wasn't eighteen when I got
pregnant, and I didn't wait seven months to tell Zahn. But we weren't married, and our parents were really old-fashioned, and it did take me a while to work up my nerve–and then after I told him, we had a huge fight. But the thing is, Rory," Iliana reached a hand to touch my shoulder, "we were so much better off after it. Zano was so great after it. He went shopping with me for baby things, and he took me to Lamaze classes, and he was there in the delivery room and was so great he even made my mom like him again." She smiled. "It's just a better idea, sweetie."
To that, I said the only thing I could: "My mom always said that Lamaze hooey was a bunch of crap."
She laughed and threw an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, let's go see Doc Robinson. Get another picture of that sucker." She patted my stomach with her extra arm and led me out of the room.
-----
Iliana and I dropped by my dorm so I could change, and the second we walked in the door Paris practically mauled me.
"Rory! Where have you been? We need to talk!"
"Oh, Paris! Where have you been? I've very easy to catch up to."
Iliana laughed, and Paris stared at her. Iliana noticed and reached out a hand. "Hi, I'm Iliana Leeopolis."
"Paris Gellar," Paris said, taking Iliana's hand and nodding. "But I'm talking to Rory right now."
"Paris," I scolded.
"Rory, come on. Let's go in our room, we'll talk, and you can change, okay?"
"Fine," I sighed. "I'll be right back," I told Iliana, and she nodded, picked up What To Expect When You're Expecting, and plopped on the couch. I followed Paris into our room and then said, "What to you need to talk about?"
"Listen, Rory, I understand that you're pregnant and you're going to stop living in the dorms when you have the kid. And I think that's a wise decision."
"Well, thank you," I said.
"But, I don't think it's wise for you to spend all of your extra time with your mother and your kid. First of all, you already pretty much have an unhealthy relationship with your mother. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Lorelai, but she spent your first night of college on your dorm room floor."
"That was just–"
"No, lemme finish," Paris protested, holding up a hand. "Gilmore, all I'm trying to say is: if you ever need anything, I'm here. I'll be here. You can use me to take solace from your mother, and I'll even"–she took a deep breath–"baby-sit sometimes. Whatever you need."
"Oh," I said quietly, touched beyond words. "Wow, Paris, thank you."
"You're welcome," she said, smiling. There was a pause, and then she hugged me. I hugged her back.
-----
I begged out of the young mothers' meeting that night; gave Iliana a copy of my sonogram to show everyone, and headed the other way, to figure out what was happening in Stars Hollow. The first place I stopped was Luke's, hoping to find one of my best friends. The place was empty, and Luke was doing that thing he does with receipts when he has nothing else to do.
"Hey, Luke," I greeted, heaving myself onto a stool.
"Hey. Want some coffee? Decaf, I promise."
"No thanks," I said, "but I'll take a muffin. Um, and, do you know where either Lane or Mom are?"
"Lane's at the band kid's house, I think, and your mom's upstairs."
"Oh, God," I moaned. "How is she?"
Luke nodded as he handed me a muffin. "She's...pretty bad. I think she's afraid to go home."
I nodded. "Okay, keep the muffin for me. I'll be right back." I swung around and threw myself off of the stool, as ultra-graceful as I was. I waddled upstairs and knocked, tentatively. "Mom?"
"Rory?" she asked.
"Yeah. Can I come in?" I asked, reaching to try the door. It suddenly burst open and she threw her arms around me.
"Oh, thank God for Lane! Get in here. I have to tell you what an idiot I am." She let go of me and pulled me into Luke's apartment, pushing me to the couch and forcing me to sit down. When she turned to me, she had mascara streaks down her cheeks, and her eyes were red.
"Oh, Mom. Are you okay?"
"Uh, no. Listen, I have had one hell of a day. See, first of all, I had a visitor this morning." She shot me a strained smile. "Sherry."
I gasped. "Sherry Tinsdale?"
"No," she shook her head. "Sherry Tinsdale-Hayden."
"Oh, no!"
"I know," Mom nodded. "The bastard married her and didn't tell me."
"So why did Sherry come by? Just to tell you that?"
"Oh, no! She thought I knew! She came by to tell Chris that Gigi was asking for him, and then we got to talking, and I was such an idiot, Rory, you would not believe it."
"What?"
Mom paused, and then stood up. She paced in a small square for a minute, and then turned to me, wringing her hands. She took a deep breath, and then fell back onto the couch next to me.
"He cheated on her."
I swear, those words floated in the air for ten seconds before they finally hit me. I sat there, stupefied, for so long, that Mom jumped up and started pacing again. Finally, I gasped.
"He cheated on her?" I practically screamed, trying to jump up myself. Using my arms for momentum, I finally propelled myself off the couch and landed next to Mom.
"I know!" Mom screeched.
"Oh, God! What'd you do?"
"I, of course, immediately jumped to the conclusion that he'd cheated on me, too, and I called his cell phone. Sherry helped with figuring out what the background noises were. He wasn't at work, 'cause there was Alanis Morrisette in the background. Alanis, Rory!"
"Oh, God," I repeated, quieter.
"I know," Mom repeated, nodding. "So Sherry and I–she's really nice, by the way–weeded out all of Chris's stuff, and put it in boxes so she could spread it around Boston, in front of his work. And then–oh, God. You remember how Sookie and I are catering for extra money, and our first client was Emily?"
"Urm...yes." Pregnancy makes you forget things, too. But...it did sound slightly familiar.
"Anyway, so Mom called today and said there was no launch party for Dad's little business partner. So, I called Digger, and he wouldn't freakin' answer me, so I had to go to his office. That was fun, lemme tell ya. He somehow knew about Chris, and kept talking about summer camp, and then he did this weird thing where he remembered what I was wearing, and–"Mom paused for a breath. "He called me Umlauts, Rory. And, it's 'cause when I was ten, he stood up in the canoe and it tipped over and I got wet, and–Digger has been Chris's hero ever since. Digger was Chris's wingman when Chris got me, for chrissakes! Oh, Rory, it was such a horrible day. And then I got back to town, and Miss Patty stopped me and told me that Luke's getting a divorce, for some reason, and then I told Sookie we weren't working for my mother and she did her fake 'yay' thing and then started crying about insurance."
"Oh, Mom," I sighed, reaching to hug her. She hugged me back, and then let me go.
"Listen, sweetie, I'm gonna be fine, but I saw Dave here with Lane earlier, so you should go be with her. I've gotta go placate Sookie."
"Okay," I said. Mom smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and then we walked downstairs together.
Mom headed out, leaving me to ask Luke if he knew where the band lived, and therefore where Lane was. He directed me to an address on Orange Street, and I quickly made my way across three streets and knocked on the door.
Lane answered, screamed "Rory!", and threw her arms around me. "Save me," she whispered desperately, before letting go of me and pulling me to the small group of boys standing in the tiny kitchenette.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Zach yelled, facing Brian. "The Ramones are not better than the Clash."
"Yeah, man," Dave agreed, nodding. "The Ramones only know three chords. Although, they did get a long way on those three chords," he added, turning to Zach.
Brian nodded, pointing at Dave. "He's got a point."
Zach started yelling again, and Lane leaned towards me and said, "It's been like this all day. Brian says something stupid, Zach yells at him, Dave refuses to take sides."
"Well, Dave's supposed to be the tiebreaker."
"Yeah, not the see-saw! He doesn't want them to kick him back out of the band."
"Why's he here?" I asked.
"He says he gets beat up in Orange County because he's a nerd."
"Aw," I said, trying not to laugh.
"But he's not a nerd! And why is he dropping out of college just because he gets beat up? I don't know. I think he's running from something."
"Maybe, he really really likes you and just doesn't want to say that's why he's back."
Lane smiled, and then shook her head. "I know, that's what I thought. But I'm worried to think it, in case he has like a huge drug problem or something he's running away from."
"Oh, Lane, he doesn't have a huge drug problem."
"I know," she said. "He told me he loves me."
"Oh, Lane!" I sighed. "That's so sweet."
"I told him if he ever leaves again I'm hooking up with Brian."
"Aw," I smiled.
"I know," Lane grinned back. "Hey, listen, I'm just gonna keep watching them argue for a while. If you wanna leave–get off your feet–that's fine."
"Oh, that'd be great. But, um, where are you staying?"
Lane grinned again. "Dave's letting me stay with him."
"Oh!" I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Patrick Cho flashback," I smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lane."
"Bye, Rory. Take care."
-----
Oh my God what time is it I can't handle being woken up this early in the morning if that beeper thing doesn't stop playing the entertainer soon I'm going to cry and kill things need sleep need lots of sleep need sleep for two people now and I'm not getting it what's going on here why is it not stopping oh God it's stopping now but is it really someone's shaking me and screaming baby baby baby over and over again and I think it's Mom but there's no baby yet, just me and my eight month pregnant stomach and I can't wait for thanksgiving in a week because I'm so hungry and I think we get four dinners again maybe five and I know I'm going to eat more than Mom this time maybe I'll even get tofurkey and be tofurkier but no, I don't think the baby would like that and is the baby kicking oh God can't even see bright neon green clock numbers eyes are so blurry but are they really I think someone's rolling me out of bed I think it's Mom I think that's her beeper oh God I think that's Sookie's baby beeper does this mean Sookie's going into labor oh God I'm going to cry if I have to see that this early in the morning it's still dark for crying out loud I–Oof!
----
She let me hold him. I was utterly amazed. She let me sit there, all alone in the room, and hold Davey while this person went to the bathroom, this person got food, this person got coffee....
Finally, I was holding a tiny, living, breathing, sleeping person, just exactly what the result of nine months of pregnancy and at least as much mental anxiety was.
I couldn't wait for my own bundle.
-----
"I only have one more week in this dorm," I proclaimed loudly one afternoon in early December. Janet rolled her eyes, Paris hissed, and Tanna nodded nicely and reached over the back of the couch and patted my arm. I grinned.
"I'm going to live at home after this. And I can, 'cause I live about fifteen minutes away."
"With a baby," Paris muttered.
"Yeah," I nodded, "but not for another month."
"I thought you were nine months pregnant," Janet finally spoke up.
"Pregnancy actually lasts ten months," Tanna explained. "The baby is born at the end of the ninth month."
I nodded. "What she said."
"Oh. Well, have fun." Janet returned to her book, but not before Paris shot her a nasty look.
"I will," I proclaimed. "I'm obviously in denial, because I totally can't wait for it. Going to school and having a baby will be quite an experience."
"Visit us," Tanna implored.
"Oh, I will," I nodded. "If only to drive your new roommate insane."
"Would you shut up, please?" Paris yelled. "Some of us are trying to study for six midterms! Not all of us are planning to take five years to graduate!"
"I'm not gonna take five years to graduate," I said indignantly, but I returned to quietly studying for my three courses anyway.
----
Christmas came and went without too much fuss and trouble, although Mom did unveil our new downstairs storage room, with just enough room for a changing table and crib, and then showed me the new rocking chair and bassinet she got for my room. She said Luke helped her, and he even admitted to it when we had lunch at the diner. We had Christmas dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, who gave me all sorts of baby stuff and Grandpa kept handing me checks under the table, "for the baby", he said. We left Hartford and drove back to Stars Hollow, where Sookie let me hold Baby Davey for a minute, and then we went back to the Crap Shack and collapsed.
Ten minutes before midnight, my water broke.