"Answer the stupid phone!" she exclaimed before slamming the phone down into its cradle. It made an angry bell noise, as good old fashioned phones such as this one do, and she stood back in a huff.
"Did the phone do something to offend you?"
She jumped a little at the voice coming from the doorway to the library. She smiled sheepishly at Janlan, and began to explain.
"No, my mother, actually. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she gestured toward the battered phone.
"It's alright. I've ripped them clear out of the wall on occasion. What's wrong with your mother?"
"I was supposed to call her, to find out how she was faring in some personal matters. She isn't answering."
"Doesn't she have an answering service of some kind?" he inquired.
"I sort of can't do that. I really need to speak with her, and my cell doesn't work out here," she began to rant, but cut herself short. "I should probably just go back to bed. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, Rory, I'm afraid I'm quite jetlagged. My body doesn't really adjust as quickly as it once did. I used to travel the world every other week and I could sleep like a baby, waking up without the slightest drag. But now, I'm walking the floors."
"Wow. Long plane rides knock me out. Coming over here, I slept for half a day when I got off the plane. I'm surprised Dan didn't have to peel me off my bed to attend the first meeting."
"And Dan is," he inquired.
"Our floor monitor. And friend. He and his girlfriend go out with Tristan and me sometimes."
"I see. And is my grandson treating you well?"
Rory smiled. "He is."
"Good to hear. If he gives you any trouble in the future, feel free to call me. I'll straighten him out in a hurry."
"I appreciate that."
He nodded. "I have a feeling you can handle him, though. He's told me how you used to put him in his place back at Chilton."
She blushed. "He did?"
"Not many girls turned him down. He was used to a certain level of unrestrained extravagance, in all aspects of his life. A trait he got from his father no doubt. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the comforts that money has afforded me, but I've found it's best to keep in mind that money doesn't make you a better person. You have to do that yourself," he smiled as he realized he was straying from his point, "At any rate, when you turned him down time after time, he was noticeably bothered. It wasn't until after he'd been in military school for quite some time that he began to see the world more my way than his father's."
Rory nodded. "He does seem a smidge different now. I wondered what made him drop the God complex."
Janlan laughed. "It was a number of things, I believe. But it's late, you should get back to bed. Will you be able to sleep, or are you still concerned about your mother?"
"No, I'll just try her again in the morning. And I promise to be nicer to the phone," she added with a smile.
"I'm sure you will, dear."
"Rory?"
They both turned to see a half-awake Tristan in the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one fist as he pulled his robe closed with the other. It was clear he'd been out for some time, and came in quest of her when he awoke to find her not next to him.
"You coming back to bed?"
"Yeah, I was just on my way back in. Good night," she turned to Janlan before moving towards Tristan.
"Good night, kids."
Janlan watched as the pair made their way out into the hall, Tristan's arm wrapped around her smaller framed body. He moved to grab a book off of the built in bookshelves and sat down in a leather armchair to wait for sleep.
XXXX
Tristan shook her gently, willing her out of her bad dream. He'd never known anyone to have so many nightmares in his life—but then again, he couldn't honestly say he'd shared a bed with anyone long enough to find out.
"Rory," he said, at a normal decibel, having exhausted softer tones.
Her eyes snapped open, a relatively disturbing thing to watch, as she was clearly completely disoriented for a moment.
"Another bad dream?"
She nodded, blinking, and rolled onto her slide to face him. He trailed a finger down her jaw line.
"You have a lot of those."
She nodded again, her eyes looking more invigorated with recognition. "Mom says I worry too much."
It was his turn to nod. "You can tell me things, you know?"
"It's stupid."
"Try me."
She sighed, and interlaced the fingers of her top arm through his. "I dreamt that Mom told Luke, and he took off. She had the baby after that, but she died in childbirth, and I had to raise it."
Tristan's eyes widened. "I see."
"I told you it was stupid," she muttered. "Luke won't leave, and Mom won't die."
"Call her. Again."
She smiled. "Do you even remember coming to get me last night?"
He yawned and pulled her closer. "Yes. And you're very predictable, hiding in the library."
"I wasn't hiding."
"Rendezvousing with Gramps?"
"I didn't want you to find out this way," she mocked sadness and regret. She giggled as her gave a low growl and rolled them over in a flash, pinning her underneath him. He silenced her with his mouth, drinking in her slowing amusement, until he felt her shift, as she parted her legs wider to allow him to be cradled between.
"Is this some sort of remedy for nightmares?" she managed as his lips migrated quickly south. He looked up, his eyes locking on hers.
"I hope so."
She lifted her hips, brushing against him with want. He continued his journey, pulling her along willingly. Once his lips were level with her ears again, her legs now wrapped tightly around his waist, he spoke in quick, ragged breaths.
"This is what I want you to dream about."
She cried out, agreeing with him, calling to greater powers in the universe, and nearly bringing him to tears with her intensity. His lips met hers in sweet relief, gratitude, and amazement. He moved to roll off of her, but she pressed her hands into his damp back, holding him to her.
"Not yet," she protested.
"Feeling better?" he asked, obliging her request.
"Much. To think Mom just used to read me a story when I had a bad dream."
"Fairytales?"
She blushed. "I liked the happy endings."
He studied her face, as if considering something. "Me too," he kissed her once more before sitting up, still straddling her hips.
"How does the theater sound?" he asked suddenly.
"For what?"
"Tonight. Gramps has an early flight tomorrow morning anyway, and he can stay in London tonight."
She smiled. "Sounds perfect."
"Good. Go, call your mom and I'll make arrangements."
XXXX
Sitting in the library, alone once again, she dialed the long series of numbers and waited. She was determined to talk to her mother, even if she had to call Kirk to scour the town. Somebody had to know something.
It was on the fourth ring that someone picked up the extension. Breathing in relief that she wasn't reaching yet another infernal recording, she began speaking. Damn modern technology.
"Mom?"
"Oh, hey, Rory. Your mom's sleeping."
"Luke. Good. Uh, is everything with you good?"
"I'm good. … You alright?"
"I, uh, I've just been trying to reach Mom all weekend."
"Oh, yeah, she said you went to the country this weekend."
"Yeah, we did."
"You want me to get her up?"
"Could you?"
"I'll try. Hang on."
She waited, utterly confused as to what Luke knew. By the time her mother's sleepy voice came on the line, she was completely worked up.
"'lo?"
"Mom!"
"What?" she sounded harassed and confused by her daughter's indignant tone.
"Details. Now."
"It's late," she whined, still not prying her head from the pillow.
"Mom!"
"Fine! God, you get more like your grandmother every--,"
"Do not finish that thought."
"We went to dinner," she relented.
"Uh-huh."
"Sniffy's."
"Right."
"Buddy and Maisy were there, of course, and I kept feeling her eyes on me. She knew something was up, I could feel it on my skin, the little hairs on my arm stood up, it was rather unnerving. They offered us drinks, and I asked for water, and she immediately threw her arms around Luke."
"Uh-oh."
"She started babbling 'Congratulations' at him, then at us, and pulled me to her, too."
"And Luke did what, exactly?"
"He asked how she knew."
"What?"
"Yeah, so she says she could tell just by looking at me, and he yells, 'But I haven't even asked her yet! How could you know?'"
"No!"
"Yes."
"So?"
"So, he pulls out the sock-drawer ring from his pocket, and gets down on one knee."
"Oh my God!"
"And he says my full name."
"Just like in the movies!" she swooned.
"And I said, 'I'm pregnant.'"
"No so movie-like."
"No."
"What did he say?"
"He passed out. Dead away. Luckily he was pretty close to the floor already."
"Poor Luke."
"He came to a minute later, asking me if I'd answered him."
"What'd you say?" Rory laughed.
"That I'd marry him if he promised not to pass out in the delivery room."
"So romantic," Rory mocked.
"Then he kissed me."
"Are you sporting the bling?"
"I am."
"Aw," she drawled.
"So, how's meeting the family? Less freaky than last time?"
"Much. Janlan's a wonderful man."
"Good."
"And … he told me he loves me."
"Presumptuous old coot, isn't he?"
"Tristan told me he loves me, mother."
"OH, that's way less creepy."
"I thought so."
"Did you say anything back?"
"Yes."
"Aw, babe, I'm so happy for you!"
"And I'm happy for you! I was so worried, Luke didn't sound weird at all."
"He's sort of, in shock. He kept watching me all the way home, and he drove slower than the usual old lady speed he normally does. He asked me if I needed anything to eat, then he insisted that I go to bed. He leapt out of the bed when the phone rang."
"Hmm. Well, he does have to protect you now. Pregnancy is a dangerous time. You're much more likely to get murdered while pregnant, statistically," Rory offered.
"What?"
"High instance of murder, most of the time by the biological father of the child."
"So, it's much more likely that Luke will murder me in the next nine months than in the entire rest of our lives?"
"Yes."
"So, I should lay off the flannel and baseball cap jokes?"
"It would be wise."
"You're a fountain of useful knowledge."
"You're welcome. I need to go. We're headed back to London to see a play on the West End."
"Ooh, fun! I wanna come!"
"I don't think you'll make the opening curtain, what with the flight and all."
"Right. Guess I'll settle for hearing about it later."
"Will do. And Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Congratulations."
"Thanks, Hon."
Rory hung up, gently this time, and smiled to herself. She sat in the chair, letting her mother's good news wash over her. She'd known it was all in the works, of course, but it was possible to truly enjoy it now that both her mother and Luke were in the know and ready to move forward. Her mother was on the verge of starting a whole new phase in her life. Tristan popped his head into the library, his hair wet and a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Hey. Shower's all yours."
"Thanks."
"You get your mom?"
"Yeah. I'll tell you about it on the way to London," she promised, standing up from her perch.
"You look happy."
"I am," she agreed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I won't be long," she promised, leaving him to watch her walk down the hall to the bathroom. She'd just disappeared behind the door when his grandfather came out of his room, looking refreshed and ready to go.
"Tristan?"
"Yeah?"
Janlan smiled at the man's inability to truly focus on anything but where Rory had just been. He could easily remember a time in his life when he felt such things. He patted his grandson on the back.
"Just checking."
"For what?"
"You're in love," he stated.
"That I am."
"I'll be damned."
Tristan looked to Janlan and gave him a look. "You don't approve?"
"Quite the contrary. I'm impressed."
Tristan smiled. "I should go get dressed," he took leave of his grandfather and moved down the hall to the room that he and Rory had been sharing, in no hurry to speed up the end to this weekend away.
