Chapter 76
August 15th, 2015
Rory stepped into the customs line at JFK arrivals, and began to flip through her inbox on her phone, a long line ahead of her. She had learned to rest pretty decently at cross-Atlantic flights, to be honest. Sometimes she even liked to joke that her travel skills were similar to that of the character played by George Clooney in 'Up in The Air'. She packed her luggage so it'd be easy to unpack at security checks, used packing cubes and wore special materials that didn't get smelly easily or wrinkly. She always had her kit of personal earplugs, the silk-covered eye cover, theTrtl pillow, Koh Gen Do cleansing spa water cloths along with her face moisturizer, and a tiny bottle of perfume that usually made her at least seem as good as new, even if she didn't feel it.
There were 14 unanswered e-mails, not even subscriptions or spam, but genuine things she needed to respond to, waiting for her attention. And that was on an early Monday morning, having taken the red-eye from London. Her next meeting was in two hours, just in time for some breakfast before.
Judging by the length of the line that morning, not unusual for Monday mornings, she knew she'd probably reply to at least a few of them before it was her turn. She was a hot commodity these days, which was rather refreshing to be honest, her New York Time piece having gotten a lot of attention from almost everyone she knew in the business. And on that note, she could reply to a few of those e-mails with the standard response:
"Thank you for your offer, but I am unable to take on new stories at this point. I look forward to working with you in the future," Rory typed.
The next email was from Hugo, one of her first real employers she'd worked for on several occasions in the past since that first time. Every once in a while there were still some things he could offer her to cover. To him she replied simply with a potential deadline, wanting to keep good relations.
There were a few other interesting proposals, one wanting her to write a review piece for a literary magazine, another for an online publication she hadn't heard much about before. There were a few emails from people she already worked for currently, specifying some contract details or giving instructions to something she was already working on. The trouble was that nobody wanted to hire her permanently. This meant that every piece she wrote, she really had to work her hardest to stand out, hoping one of these days one of these editors would actually suggest she apply for a more permanent position with them. So far it's where only those no-name places - websites, yellow journalism and small-town papers requiring her to move to the middle of nowhere in the process, who sought after her.
She couldn't even really argue. Her writing was good, but in her opinion her writing style was a little one-sided and with room for improvement, hence she figured the editors only considered it interesting when popping up in a new context every once in a while. But week after week, she imagined it most likely got dull, and the editors could already see that happening when they looked at her portfolio. Rory did what she could, she took refreshment courses, participated in workshops and tried her best, she even tried a few independent writing competitions every once in a while to improve her skills and push herself outside of her comfort zone. She really did.
But there were so many good writers these days and she knew many of them too. This made it even harder to compete with them, as they were genuinely nice people. And the longer she freelanced the harder it became to really apply to any of these permanent positions. She was too old, too experienced, for entry-level jobs, many just assumed it was not what she really wanted, besides she was pretty sure it came off desperate, and she was too inexperienced to apply for positions much higher than that. And the intermediate positions were usually just filled from within where possible, or so it seemed to her looking from the outside.
She had no master's degree unlike so many young writers. She had no steady track record of permanent employment, and these days she didn't even have a permanent address, having recently given up her Brooklyn apartment, having spent more nights in hotels and at friend's places than there in the past few months.
So she stuck to doing what she did and did it as well as she could, putting in a lot of work hours for money that was mediocre at best.
Realistically speaking she probably could have competed with the younger people but she had stopped feeling like she was adequate enough, the New York time piece almost feeling like a fluke. The New York Time piece had felt like an accomplishment or sorts, despite having not expected people to like it as much. But now that she had done that she was beginning to lose sight of a good goal.
Her entire life she'd needed a goal to chase - succeeding in high school, getting into a good college, graduation… chasing Paris though most of that. But ever since graduation there was suddenly no-one to chase but herself. She didn't really know what she was working for anymore. Whom was she trying to impress? She was never really one to want to be praised publicly, the Pulitzer, the Aldo Beckman, the Bastiat, the John Chancellor nor the Molly were what she really craved. Those goals sounded somehow unoriginal.
Part of her was always trying to prove herself to her grandparents. She wanted to show them that with their help she had made something out of her. To her mother she wanted to prove that she could do it as independently as her mother had, with certain exceptions considering she had the support of her trust funds backing her, and allowed her to do it the way she was doing it.
A part of her was always thinking back to people like Mitchum Huntzberger and some other editors and managers that had doubted her in the past. Mitchum was far from the only one who had ever considered her unexceptional. But there were other people as well that she wanted to prove something to - her professors, deans and principals, people in Stars Hollow, colleagues, classmates and people she'd known in college, especially at Yale Daily News.
A prime example that she was trying to prove herself to Logan too, despite the two of them knowing each other probably better than anyone else, was the fact that she hid a large chunk of her less than perfect work-situation from him. Sure, she complained to him sometimes, he was a good listener. But she mostly told him about the highlights, the successes, the interesting offers, and held back on those less glamorous. Turning down Logan's proposal, years ago, was one of the reasons for that, as she had done it so she could become her own person, a successful reporter - to have a career. If she admitted to it being anything less than what she'd wanted, it would've almost made it sound like it hadn't been worth it. She wasn't ready to admit that to herself.
She's just spent two days with Logan in London after visiting a conference in Cardiff for an interview with one of the keynote speakers. Just like usually, they didn't even do anything that spectacular, just went for walks, dinners, the farmer's market, visited a few books stores, and watched 'Paper Towns' in bed. The closest she ever came to explaining to herself what they were was that they were like each-other's chargers. Every time she visited, she returned energized and despite all odds feeling like as long as they didn't put a label on it they weren't really guilty of anything. It was an illusion, but she wasn't ready to say even that out loud. She wasn't unaware that there was someone else in Logan's life, and neither was he - at this point they were just equally guilty. But it was like an alternate universe when they were together, like their own little private bubble that didn't really concern anyone else.
As she was reading through another email her train of thought was interrupted suddenly by a customs official, "Excuse me miss, you're up!"
"Oh, sorry," she replied, realizing she'd forgotten herself. Her polite refusal to Sandy Says would just have to wait.
December 5th, 2021
Rory was standing on the sidelines of the playground, watching her daughter, who didn't seem to mind at all that it was a little chilly outside, and one of her friends from school play on the noodle climbers. The snow had melted since last week, but the temperature had fluctuated between just above and below freezing most of the week.
Rory, on the other hand, was freezing, currently she was stepping from one foot to another trying to keep warm, her hand dug deep into her pockets, having forgotten her gloves in her car. No wonder - Em was the one running around and climbing, while Rory was not.
The other kids' parents, mostly mothers, were talking amongst each-other at the other side of the playground. It was a group she'd gotten used to seeing together often. She and another mom, one that looked a few years older than she was, with her nose in her phone, stood across the playground from them separately and quietly.
She didn't talk to other mothers much, having a few years back gotten the stink-eye for having dared to ask a few stay-at-home-moms what they did for work. Rookie mistake probably, but it had put her off trying to mingle for a while. She probably hated people judging her for working just as much as they hated her. She didn't really think much about it, she just couldn't imagine herself without the work.
"Here," Logan said, surprising her, and handed Rory a cup of cocoa, and set the other two cups on a nearby bench, which looked a little icy. He then surprised Rory even more by placing a soft woolen quilt over her shoulders, having noticed her freezing from across the lawn. It was something his sister had given him as a housewarming present for moving to Hartford, but which he'd forgotten in the car for weeks.
"Aw, thanks," Rory replied, hugged him and gave him a quick kiss, before realizing she'd done it potentially in Em's presence. But a quick glance towards Em proved that she hadn't noticed or at the very least hadn't minded. "Nearly forgot," she added, smiling humbly.
"Hey, I'm not complaining," Logan replied, smugly. "It's hard to not do what I want to do," he added.
"What is it that you want to do?" Rory asked, half-teasingly, and took a sip of the sweet warm liquid.
"Ha…," Logan grinned naughtily, quite enjoying this little tease. "Well - kiss you properly for starters," he replied, not hurrying things up.
"Good start," Rory said innocently, and glanced over, definitely sensing the need building within her. For once having Em with her this weekend could be considered good timing, as she had her period, not quite feeling up to hopping into bed with him, feeling all bloated. But she certainly didn't mind the flirt.
They left the flirt at that for now, as some other people passed them by right then.
"So how was yesterday?"Rory asked.
"Pretty good. I actually went to check out the shelter," Logan said. "Kind of depressing being there but I did get a little bit better idea that I really want to do this. I think I even know more or less what kind of dog I want. I just think I might need to get a puppy just to make sure that the dog isn't traumatized. Like there was this one I kind of liked but they said she'd had some issues with kids," Logan explained. He was feeling a little guilty for being this picky, but he was in no position to put himself first when he needed to consider Em, Rory and a potential mystery baby, whom he hadn't stopped thinking about. He knew the latter might never happen, but he liked to think it was an option. He wanted to see Rory pregnant with his child, be there when they were born, and live through all these steps that Rory already had. He felt like he'd missed out on so much already.
"So what, are you going to look for ads next or? "Rory asked, not really knowing much about the process.
He wasn't oblivious that puppies were a lot of work, but time seemed to be what he had now. He was still not quite used to it.
"I have a few contacts in mind so we'll see," Logan replied.
"Well for what it's worth I think you'd make a very good dog owner," Rory added, in an encouraging manner.
"We can hope. But it's kind of a weird position to be in. It almost feels like applying for a job. Even at the shelter they have all these forms you have to fill in, asking whether I own my place of residence, where will the dog be kept when I am not home, how many hours per day will the pet be left alone, have I got prior experience… and the list just went on and on. I'm not sure I even qualify. I mean unless somebody googles my name and goes by some former reputation, I'm not exactly the prime candidate," he chuckled, having never felt like that. He had always been the guy with a spotless resume. He knew also that him working a lot less now actually spoke in his favor.
"If it comes down to putting something on paper you can just tell them you live with me," Rory suggested. "You will soon anyway," Rory added, feeling very happy saying that and it showed on her face. "I actually kind of asked Em the other day whether she wanted to get a new house and she actually didn't seem to mind the idea much. We had a nice little, innocent, chat," Rory explained and continued to explain how the girl doesn't really have a taste for anything fancy, but had expressed her interest in having someplace with a window seat and a fireplace - of all things. "Oh, and it has to be on the beach," Rory added in a serious but playful tone.
Logan laughed.
"You know when it comes to the beach house… I actually talked to my sister about selling the house in Martha's Vineyard. I'd have that money to spend on the place we get," Logan explained.
"I didn't know you owned that," Roy said with surprise.
"Oh yeah, wedding present," Logan added, reluctantly and looked down, humbly.
"Your dad really had a twisted sense of humor didn't he?" Rory suggested. Who gave something like that as a wedding present knowing it was a place where Logan had taken his ex time and time again, even calling it as their perfect hideout amongst each-other? Things had always been so perfect when it had been the two of them there. Well - maybe it was that his father really hadn't known? Maybe it was just a piece of real estate to him?
"He had, that's for sure," Logan replied. "But it's in pretty bad shape. It's mostly the location that is worth anything now," he added. Naturally he was downplaying it saying that, considering how hard it was to get building materials onto the site, but that was how he truly felt about it. It wasn't the same place in his mind anymore.
"But are you sure you're willing to give that up?" Rory asked. She at least was a lot more sentimental sometimes than Logan seemed to be. The state of Logan's financial status was still a little fuzzy to her, the house having just increased what she thought he had at hand, considerably. She didn't really care, it didn't matter - but she'd been hesitant to outright ask him.
"Honor actually might still buy it from me. She's kind of nostalgic about these things, but either way I'll get the money," he added, seeing the positive.
"You don't have to worry about the money," Rory said, casting him a brief look. It did feel good saying it, but she knew Logan wasn't going to let her just pay for it, even if she considered her plan of getting a new house first and then having Logan move in. She was going to run that though by him first, of course, but she wanted to do that some other time when they were in private, already having a couple of places in mind.
"Hey Em! You want some cocoa?" Rory asked as the girl rushed past them, barely paying any attention to them. "It's going to get cold otherwise," she added, but Em didn't seem that interested presently.
Logan took a sip of his own drink for a change, and tucked his other hand into the pocket of his leather jacket. It really was a little chilly.
"Did you get all of your work done?" Logan asked after a little while. He wasn't even asking this so he could have more time with her, despite that being a positive side-effect of her having more free time.
"A teacher's work is never done," Rory shook her head with a bitter-sweet smile.
"Why do you work so much?" Logan then asked, surprising himself with his straightforwardness too. "I mean, I know you've always worked hard. When you decide to do something you put all of yourself in it, I know that. But I just… I haven't seen you talk about it with passion or with a positive notion much. It just makes me wonder," he added, hoping she wouldn't take offense. He knew she didn't do it for the money, her airbnbs likely provided a decent income alone.
"It's just been a hard semester, I suppose," Rory replied with a shrug. But it did make her think. She'd constantly been busy, definitely less motivated than last year. But she didn't want to admit it - somehow admitting that she wasn't enjoying it as much felt like admitting failure. And this was not something she liked to do in front of Logan. Even despite things being so much more open between them. She sensed this was something she needed to overcome, but she first needed to understand it herself.
"I'd just like to see you smile more," Logan added. When she was writing, at least the 'highs' really had looked like 'highs' on her.
"Well, just a few more weeks and then I can enjoy one of the teachers' perks - winter break," she added, with a wide smile. "Oh, and if you feel up to it, there's also a faculty Christmas party I can invite you to," she added.
"Oh yeah?" Logan responded, having not expected to hear those words in his life.
"It's lame, I know," Rory said. "But it has been kind of fun. At least they have pretty okay coffee these days," she added. She genuinely felt lame asking Logan to come to something like this, picturing all the usual galas he was used to attending this time of year. There'd be no tuxes, no red carpet, no free champagne.
Logan grinned. "If you want to go, I'll go," he offered. "Never want to miss a chance to take you out, even if it's a faculty event," he added, but was unable to hold back his laughter. This was the type of party he truly had never imagined attending, bringing back memories of pranking one of these things at Rivers.
"So you still have your grandmother's place? The Sandcastle, was it?" Logan asked, after watching Em jump tirelessly around the trampolines built into the ground for a few minutes with her. He figured it was a gentle subject because Lorelei had quickly diverted to something else when Rory had mentioned it at dinner the other night.
"Technically mom has, but we haven't been there since grandma died. But I think it's kind of sad that it's just sitting there. Sure, it's maintained, but I think it's a waste - I loved that place. And when Em mentioned she wanted to live on the beach, I thought it'd be a good chance to offer her that opportunity, at least temporarily - even if it's not exactly what she meant probably," Rory added, with a light chuckle. "But I'd like her to know her great-grandmother, even if it is through stories. I don't like that we never speak about her, or grandfather much. I get that it's hard, it's hard for me too, but I think we got to start somewhere," she explained.
"We can still go, even if your mom doesn't want to, if she doesn't object, that is," Logan suggested. "We could even go check out the Vinyard briefly, see the state that place is in, it's not exactly far," he added.
"Why not," Rory replied with a shrug, not minding that idea at all. She still knew she needed to convince Jess. But she was fine going the day after Christmas if Jess really objected.
Rory drank the last of her cocoa in one large sip and threw out the cup.
"You've got a little something…," Logan suggested, seeing a small cocoa stain on the corner of her lip, and wiped it off.
"Thanks," Rory laughed, feeling silly. "Boy, your hands are really cold," she noted, making a chattering sound with her teeth, and took his hand between hers and blew hot air onto it. She was being a lot less careful with Em around, but it just felt right.
"Yeah, I guess I should probably get myself a proper winter coat again," Logan chuckled. He had a woolen coat, but it was something he wore to more formal occasions. He didn't really have anything more casual, and still mostly just wore either his leather jacket with a sweater underneath or his jogging clothes, which were various layers of merino, fleece and a windbreaker. That was what happened if one left one's home with a light suitcase, he supposed.
"Hey, Em!" Rory called out for her daughter again. "Five more minutes! We're going to the mall," Rory said, decisively, wanting Logan to have something warm to embrace him when she couldn't at any moment.
