AN: This starts off as a Rory centric post-AYITL fic that will sometimes jump back in time. Mostly canon compliant but will involve some surprises. Story ignores COVID. The story will borrow some details from my other stories that I've grown to love, but this is a separate universe from my other stories and is totally readable without having read the other stories. And I do not intend to abandon the other story I have ongoing, this just needed to come out and come out now.
Warning: This probably won't be just a fluff piece, there'll be happy times of course, but I tend to prefer to involve also more serious subjects like mental health, death, health issues, some trigger topics for some perhaps - so just be warned. I won't list what exactly here as it'd spoil the story but if you're concerned about something specific just PM me.
The story will contain some smut but I'll try to keep it within M rating (on occasion I add some MA scenes to the Literotica site under author name GG_smut if M doesn't seem enough). I also like to create soundtracks to my stories and use existing real estate ads to illustrate visually.
An eventual Rogan but the road to that won't be without twists.
I am not promising daily posts this time just to keep your expectations low and hopefully just exceed them.
I do not own Gilmore Girls!
"Glimpses"
September 10th, 2021
"Mr. Hodson," Rory greeted, nodding in greeting to the tall senior student whom she noticed heading upstairs, while she was on her way down. Rory wore a navy blue pencil skirt, a dark fitted blazer and a pair of modest loafers, and her hair was pulled into a low bun at the back of her head, a few loose hairs tucked behind her ears as it was already the end of the work day.
"Ms. Gilmore," the student replied with a similar nod. The teenager had a bit of a celebrity aura to him, making him, no doubt, popular amongst his peers, and his attitude reminded Rory very much of Tristian or Logan. Girls were constantly chasing guys like that, other guys looked for their company, hoping their popularity would rub off on them. In high school it was mostly about popularity, but once, not if, he went to college it would soon turn into a game of business connections and landing the whale for many. The teenager had no idea how well Rory knew the type.
"I hope your trip to Cape Cod was productive," Rory added with a hint of sarcasm, the young man having missed the first week of his classes in the beginning of the semester, family obligations a.k.a parties, travelling, business meetings, and on occasion also mischief providing convenient excuses for him to miss school. Rory, however, was not intimidated by things like that nor his father's money, having had her share of experiences with spoiled students and the Hartford society.
Rory knew, of course, that students like that weren't just spoiled, they were also often deeply neglected from parental love and caring, parents being too busy or genuinely heartless - even that happened. Often the mischievous behavior of these students was a result of attention seeking and rebellion for the lack of truly free will, it being the only way they knew how to handle their emotions. But this didn't mean Rory should or would give them slack. There was no slack in Chilton - there was just understanding she could offer them.
"I expect that make-up report on my desk by Monday," Rory said, cleverly, heading down the carved wooden staircase she'd walked down so many times before that she already had muscle memory of it.
"Yes, Ms. Gilmore," , first name Jeremy, said, adding a dash of flirting by saluting her in passing. Rory knew Jeremy liked to win over teachers like that, being all friendly and even flirting with some. And even if she would never think about any of her students like that, deep down a woman approaching 37, having not been on a real date for nearly a year and half, nothing that could be considered a good date at least, took any compliment she could get, even if she would never admit to being flattered by one coming from an 18-year-old.
Rory had her leather tote bag pulled over her shoulder, the bag holding her laptop and a pile of 10th graders pop-quizzes that she was taking home to check. Teachers had homework too, and this was just the beginning of the school year. It helped that Rory really didn't mind homework.
"Second week on the job and you look tired already," Rory said as she reached the ground floor, making an observation of a familiar dark-haired, now greying from the sides, man looking particularly disheartened. By the looks of him he was heading back to his office.
"I've just got to go call back Rebecca Chester's mother who's insisting we remove sugar, gluten, lactose and meat from all food selection served at the school," Max explained with a roll of his eyes, checking that there wasn't anyone to overhear him, not looking particularly enthusiastic at the prospect. He looked older, naturally, and a little rounder, wrinkles adding to his character.
"I think Hanlin had the students do a debate on that the last time that topic was raised," Rory recalled. She had more recent experience from how things were run at Chilton these past few years than Max did, and there were some very capable students in Chilton who could do research like nobody's business.
"Now that's an idea," Max replied, and smiled at her suggestion. He'd only returned to Chilton on Headmaster Charleston's request to apply for the headmaster's position last spring to make it a smooth transition once Hanlin himself retired. Even the short time working together had made Rory and Max pretty good work friends, their history proving useful rather than awkward by now.
"Your welcome," Rory smiled at him, and turned to leave, wrapping her light scarf around her neck, and stepped out into the courtyard. She made her way to the parking lot, greeting a few other teachers in passing with a modest smile. The faculty at Chilton wasn't exactly a tight knit bunch, but she was relieved to be on good terms with Max and a few others, which was enough for her.
Rory got behind the wheel of her 2015 white Mazda CX-3, tossing her leather tote into the passenger's seat. The day had been tiring, but the song 'Dancing in the Dark' sang by Lucy Dacus, and the realization that it was Friday and she could let her teacher role fade to the background for the weekend, brought some more life into her.
The destination to where she made her way next, certainly also helped. The preschool really wasn't far, just a 12 minutes drive if there was little traffic, and that evening it was surprisingly calm.
Rory exchanged a few pleasantries with one of the teachers once she got there and soon was hit by a blow against her legs and hip, her four-year-old hugging her, having come from a direction she hadn't expected her to.
"Hi, Em!" Rory greeted the little girl lovingly, and crouched down to give her a proper hug, excusing herself from the teacher. "Did you have fun? What did you learn today?" she asked, feeling genuinely curious. The brown haired girl with a pair of eyes that matched hers wore an olive green dungaree dress, her favourite color, but hadn't gotten around to getting her shoes on just yet.
"There were new Legos, we built an airplane," Em, short from Emily, began to retell her day to Rory. The girl explained how they'd done some math that day, feeling particularly proud that she'd learned what 5 minus 3 was. Learning was fun for her, much like it had been for Rory back in her day.
It was the perk of being a private school teacher, the status from that along with the last name that still held some value in West Hartford, that Emily was attending a preschool that actually had groups half the size of normal ones, modern amenities and plentiful of teaching materials and toys, allowing them to keep things interesting enough for the girl that was a little beyond her age group when it came to anything verbal - mostly reading.
The financial aspect of this hadn't been an issue, but it was definitely something Rory still had mixed feelings about. Rory still wasn't quite over what had happened, and had only really used her inheritage for the basics to rebuild her life - her education at Hartford University - no Ivy league this time - which she'd rushed through while pregnant and later with a newborn at home, the convenience of the close location having taken priority, while already picking up some substituting in the meanwhile at Chilton. But it hadn't really been a big surprise that once Rory got something into her head, she had trouble slowing down.
Some might have considered changing her career around and go take a swing at teaching, something that had been offered to her on a silver platter, as settling, Paris certainly had hinted at it, having not much of a filter, but for Rory it hadn't really been that. Finding out she had been pregnant had been a wake up call for her, and the answer really had been so simple - the education setting really was the one in which she'd always enjoyed being, she liked inspiring people.
Another thing she'd purchased with that money had been the small and humble two-bedroom house in the heart of West Hartford. The house, in front on which she pulled up ten minutes later to park, was enough for the two of them, even though when she'd first bought it she'd meant it for three. But not everything had worked out according to plan, in fact, things hardly did in her experience, so she tried to focus on the now and enjoy the little things in life.
She opened the car door for Em, who climbed out of her carseat, and hopped off ahead of her up the stairs to the small porch, deciding to swing a couple of times on her little swing that Luke had hung from it's ceiling. The house was really not much bigger than the place she'd grown up in herself, just the study, separated from the living room by double-sided gridded doors, feeling like a small upgrade from the crap shack, but for her it made all the difference in the end.
Pushing the door open, the familiar smell of home - vanilla mixing with coffee and a hint of something flowery filing their nostrils.
"Go wash your hands," Rory reminded Em, who was already heading for the bathroom, and went to put her things away in her study. It was then her phone rang.
"Was it your place or mine, tonight? I forgot," Lorelai asked without further introductions.
"Yours, but it can be mine if you're fine with Black Bamboo?" Rory replied.
"Sounds more like it," Lorelai replied with relief. "The living room just had a bit of a tornado go through it this morning. You know, the famous case of the lost keys," Lorelai explained, making it clear that she wasn't feeling up to tidying her place. Not that Rory would've minded a messy house, hell, she'd seen the place at its worst, but Lorelai was surprisingly good at keeping their Friday Night dinners, involving take-away or not, as something halfway formal. For Rory's idea of take away this meant that they'd actually get some dishes to eat from not just eat from the containers, having learned considerably from the former Friday Night dinners.
The four-year old was already hopping up and down in front of Rory, clearly having recognized her grandmother's voice through the phone.
"Hold on a sec, Em wants a word," Rory said to Lorelai. The girl was very perspective, already getting the gist that Lorelai was coming over.
"Hi, sweetie!" Lorelai greeted the girl.
"Hi grandma," Em said, making Lorelai squint every time she heard her refer to her as that. But she could never really be angry at her nor did she have a better recommendation to tell her to call her. "Can you bring Paul Anka?" she pleaded.
"Well I can see if he feels up to it…," Lorelai replied, being a little hesitant to make any promises.
Paula Anka was getting old, he had problems with his joints, blood sugar… and a dozen other things, and for months now both Rory and Lorelai had been preparing Em for the inevitable. She seemed to get it, but this really just meant that the girl just kept asking about the dog, sometimes daily, asking Lorelai to send pictures and have them drive over to play with him on the weekends, even if the dog barely felt up to it.
"Okay," Em replied, sounding a little disheartened and Rory let her hand stroke her brown hair that had been cut into a rounded bob.
"But I'll see you in a few hours, I'll bring some pie, okay?" Lorelai suggested.
"Okay, bye," Em said, and landed in the red wingback armchair in the living room and snuggled up with the 'Mermicorn Island'.
Rory finished up the call shortly and made her way to the kitchen to cut up an apple for her daughter as a pre-dinner snack, before heading upstairs to change into something more comfortable.
She slipped into a pair of leggings and a semi-casual wrap dress, and removed her minimal make up with a cotton pad. The lighting in the bathroom really didn't do her wrinkles many favors, the poorly angled light casting even deeper shadows on the lines. She snapped out of her self pity as her phone chimed.
"I'll pick her up at 10, if that's okay?" the message said.
She shot back a quick thumbs up, figuring she would still easily make it to her appointment at noon with that arrangement. Rory felt strangely apprehensive of that exchange, however, because the last time had hardly gone according to plan either. But she pushed that thought aside, and headed back downstairs, wanting to finish grading the pop quizzes before Lorelai got there.
AN: Inspiration for Rory's house 1375 Boulevard, West Hartford on Zillow + imaginary study in the back of the living room.
Please tell me what you think!
