Rory

Please come to Boston for the springtime

I'm stayin' here with some friends and they've got lots of room

You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk

By a café where I hope to be workin' soon

Please come to Boston

She said no, would you come home to me

David Loggins – Please Come to Boston

Early June

"Thanks for letting me stay on such short notice, Dad," I say slowly. We haven't exactly mended our relationship, but I guess we're about to start.

"No problem, Rory. I'll do anything I can to help you," Dad says purposely. "Good thing Gigi and I have an extra room, huh?"

"Yeah," I mumble, rubbing my forehead in an attempt to ease the tension from my now ever-present headache.

"Well, we'll leave you alone to let you get settled."

"Dad." I pause to gather my thoughts. "Thank you."

Dad nods as he takes Gigi by the hand and walks down the hallway toward the living room.

I hang my bag in the closet and start to put the clothes away. For a moment, I wonder if I've made the right choice, taking a job in the field I thought I would abandon.

I'm sure it's useless, but I had to give it one last try. And Grandpa managed to get me the opportunity, so I couldn't let it pass. Hell, if I've lost control of my life, it won't make a difference anyway.

Once I've finished putting all the clothes away, I make my way to the living room where Dad is building something on the floor with Gigi. I stand back and watch for a minute, jealous of the scene in front of me. For a moment, I remember all the times Dad would send me presents and big fancy gifts. And I remember that I would have preferred five minutes with him to any of those gifts. I step forward into the room and let out a sigh.

"Hey, Rory. You all unpacked?" Dad asks cheerfully. For good measure, Gigi throws a wave in my direction. I smile a little in spite of myself.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks, Dad."

"So, you said that tomorrow you'll go get oriented around the office, then you have to go back to your grandparents in the evening, right?" As he is talking, Dad puts a DVD in for Gigi to watch.

I nod. "I have to be in Bridgeport Friday for my hearing," I say, looking at the floor.

"Yeah. What did your Grandfather's lawyer say about that?"

"No big deal, really. We'll plea it down to a misdemeanor, and the judge will almost certainly give me community service and make me pay restitution," I wring my hands a bit as I force out the likely scenario. I wish I was back at my grandparents' where I didn't have to talk about any of this.

I realize Dad is waiting for me to continue. "So, uh, since I have no prior record, once I've completed the community service that should pretty much be the end of that."

"What about the restitution?" Dad asks, sighing.

"I've talked with Grandma and Grandpa, and they'll loan me the money to pay. Then, when I have a full-time job, I'll pay them back for college and the restitution money at once."

"Rory."

"What?"

"Don't you think you're becoming awfully indebted to your grandparents?"

"What?" I snap.

"You're just giving them a lot of control over your life, kid. Be careful," he says in a not-quite-identifiable tone.

I stop for a minute and take several deep breaths. It does nothing to calm me down. All those years, he made almost no attempt to be a part of my life. Now he wants to help me sort through things. It's not as though I needed him anyway. Mom always had everything under control.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I blurt out. "I've never had control over my own life anyway."

"What? Rory, no…"

"Don't 'Rory, no' me. Before it was just Mom controlling my life. All I did was shift it. It's not like my opinion matters to any of them, anyway."

"Rory, slow down," Dad says, taking me by the arm and leading me away from Gigi and the living room.

"No. It doesn't matter. All Mom ever cared about was making sure I don't end up like her. Well, that's all Grandma and Grandpa care about, too. No one wants me to end up like my mother. So it doesn't make a difference, they're going to be sure I don't, one way or another!"

"Rory, what are you talking about?"

"I think I was quite clear. Everyone should be happy as long as I don't turn out like Mom," I say, moving closer to the end of the hallway, trying desperately not to cry.

"Rory, stop!" Dad says, looking exasperated. "Your mother isn't afraid that you are going to turn into her."

"What?"

"Rory, she's afraid you're going to turn out like me."

"What?" I repeat. I want to sit down. I need to sit down. I move back toward the living room and collapse onto the couch.

Dad continues, "Rory, would it be so bad if your life turned out like your mother's?"

I stare blankly at him, unsure of what to say.

"Look kid, you are past the point in life where she worried you'd really end up like her. At this point, you can only really emulate the good on her side."

"But why is she so intent on interfering with my choices, then?"

"Because aimlessness doesn't suit you. It's not your choices she's worried about, it's your lack of choices," Dad finishes seriously.

I sink to the couch and start to cry. The headache that has become a mainstay begins to pound even more severely. I wish I could be what they want me to be. I wish I could be what I want me to be. How can Mom always be so sure of things when I'm always full of doubt?

Dad sits on one side of me and tries to soothe me by wrapping his arm around me. I lean in, hoping that he can magically make the hurt disappear. A minute later, Gigi leaves her video to come over and pat me on the arm.

Later in the evening, after Gigi has been put to bed, Dad and I are finishing a late dinner of take-out pizza.

Dad starts to speak slowly "Look, Rory, I know I've never been the model of…well…anything, but you know that we all just want you to be happy, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. But I wish everyone would let me make my own decisions, too."

He takes a deep breath and begins, "Well, kid, from what I can tell, you are making your own decisions. Your grandparents aren't happy that you're staying here. And I gotta tell you I'm not thrilled with your decision to take time off from school, and neither is your mother."

I quickly look up. "What?"

"What?"

"You said something about Mom…"

"Uh, yeah. Well, I assume that she isn't happy about it. I mean, I'm not," he stammers, refusing to look me in the eye.

"Dad."

"What?"

"Stay away from her," I say, making no attempt to hide the edge to my voice. More trouble from Dad is the last thing she needs in her life.

"Rory…"

"No, Dad. You've screwed her life up for the last time. No more!"

"Rory, stop!" he says with more force than I had expected. "Just stop. Your mother is engaged, and Luke is moving in with her."

"How do you know about that?"

"Because I went to see them. I went to see them to find out what the hell was going on with you after you sent me that email. I saw the ring."

"How do you know about him moving in? I just found out about it!"

"Because after you called to ask if you could stay here for the job, I called your mother and told her you would be here. And she said something about Luke moving in," he finishes, suddenly looking very tired. "She's moved on. It's over."

"He makes her happy, Dad," I say, beginning to calm down.

"I know he does. And I know he will," he stands up and walks away from the table, saying, "Look, I'm pretty tired, and I still have to do a little cleanup in the kitchen before I go to bed. We'll talk more in the morning, kiddo."

I'm a bit surprised by his abrupt exit, but I'm too tired to push any more tonight. As I watch him walk toward the kitchen, I'm a bit bewildered that I feel sorry for him. All those years I watched Mom, with her hoping he'd come around. After all the tries and all the hurt, things never did work out for the two of them. I guess I never imagined he might have been wishing for the same thing she was. And now he has to watch her have it with someone else.

As I enter the kitchen to pour my coffee before I leave for my first day at the office, I notice a note next to the coffee maker.

Hey kiddo,

Forgot to mention that I needed to leave early this morning because of a project at the office. Sorry I'm missing your excitement this morning. I wish you all the best of luck (as if you'll need it).

I'll see you when you come back this weekend.

And Rory, call your mother tonight to tell her about your first day at work. It would mean the world to her.

Love,

Dadi

I smile at the sentiment behind the note, wondering at the same time if the real reason he left early was to avoid talking to me.

Finally, at 12:30, I get to stop for a few minutes and have a break. I guess today's lunch will be vending machine fare. Disgusting, cheap, and filling. My favorite kind of food.

I pick up my phone and notice that Logan called, though he didn't leave a message. I pick up the phone to call him back and tell him about my first morning on the job, but it rings before I can dial the number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ace. How's the morning going?"

"Hey there. Pretty good. No major mishaps or embarrassments."

"Nose to the grindstone, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much. This is the first break I've had today, and I get an entire 15 minutes. So many things to do."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, you tend to get into trouble when you're aimless."

"What?" I ask, bemused by his making light of our situation before we've even been sentenced.

"You know what I'm talking about – I'm not going to repeat myself," he says with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "When are you headed back to the grandparents?"

"Tonight," I answer, thinking about the dreaded drive. "Gotta be there for our hearing in the morning, even though it can't help my case to be associated with a felon."

"Yeah, but Dad's lawyer says it really didn't matter whether they severed our hearings or not."

"And Grandpa's lawyer agreed. Anyway, will I see you some time this weekend, other than the hearing?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that," Logan says with a sardonic edge. "I still have to seek retribution for your having ignored me for days."

I smile, thinking about the patience he showed dealing with my stubbornness. "Why don't we plan to have dinner Saturday night, and leave the rest of the night open to see where it takes us?" I suggest, smiling.

"Sounds like a plan to me," he answers. "See you tomorrow morning. Call me tonight and tell me about the rest of your day if you want."

"We'll see," I answer. "Bye, Logan."

"Bye, Ace."

By the time I get back to the pool house, it is close to 9:30. I do a quick check-in with Grandma and Grandpa to let them know I've arrived.

Then I head out to the pool house. I pick up my phone and debate whether I have the energy required to make a phone call. After hesitating, I pick up the phone and hit the speed dial. After four rings, the voice mail picks up. I listen to the message, chewing my lip in hopes my resolve won't fail.

Once the tone sounds, I start to speak, "Hi, Mom. Just thought I'd call and let you know that my first day at the Monitor went well. They kept me incredibly busy. Anyway, I just thought I'd check in before the hearing tomorrow. We never actually talked about whether you'd be there or not. Okay, I'm going to go now. Bye."

I exhale slowly as I hang up the phone. As I walk into the bathroom to get ready for bed, I notice that for the first time in weeks, my headache seems to have subsided somewhat.