Chapter 202

Paris walked to the laundry room, the baby wrapped to her chest as she carried a full laundry basket. She took out the mass of dirty baby clothes, burp cloths and other linens and put them in the washer, starting a sanitize cycle. Simone began to cry at the noise from the washing maching starting, and Paris quickly helped her latch, which calmed her quickly.

Simone wasn't a big crier. Sure, she cried- Paris had her share of shattered eardrums from the last few days alone, but she was pretty easily soothed, at least from Paris' experience. It wasn't like Paris was an expert on babies. She'd never even done any babysitting when she was a child. In her lineage, such an idea was laughable, given that she didn't need the money and Harvard wouldn't care. Her experience with friends' children was very limited, as she'd never been particularly nurturing or maternal, prior to her own pregnancy.

With Simone, Paris wouldn't say that things were coming easy, per se, but rather, they were coming to her naturally. Her daughter could be fussy and loud, but Paris usually had a sense for what she needed, and was able to soothe her relatively quickly most of the time. And much of the time, Simone was peaceful, sleeping or eating or staring up at Paris with almost unreally wide eyes, curious and searching.

Paris' most significant cause for gratitude regarding Doyle was, quite honestly, him avoiding her and therefore not impeding her ability to bond with her daughter. Sure, in a purely logical sense, it was a little disappointing that he wasn't particularly interested in his daughter, and that she had to handle everything herself. But, in the same breath, Paris knew on a deep level now that she preferred it that way. She was grateful for Doyle, and always would be, because without him, she wouldn't have Simone, or Simone would be different. And Simone was perfect. But, that being understood, Paris was relieved she didn't have to share her very much, or keep anyone else happy. Because as far as she was concerned, she and Simone were the whole world right now.

Paris knew that on some level, Rory had sensed that. It had been nice to see Rory, and Paris was glad that she'd agreed to be Simone's godmother, that she'd seemed very taken with Simone, even for someone who wasn't always the biggest fan of babies, and that by the end of the trip she'd given up pestering Paris about inconsequential things like Doyle and just been there with her. Paris didn't know for certain, but had a sneaking suspicion that she had Lorelai Gilmore to thank for that, in some way or another. Over the last day or two, Paris had gotten a little better with reconnecting with the outside world. She had texted Lane a picture of Simone. Lane had responded with lots of congratulations and fawning and, after a few texts back and forth, a very tentative request to visit if and when her schedule allowed. Paris had said yes immediately, and been delighted. Paris had also texted Hannah, Chris, Matt, Jess and Rory in a large group text, sharing a picture and the news. Hannah had expressed her delight and well wishes, Chris had joked about sending her their latest author's failing book to put her to sleep, Matt had simply send a 'Congratulations' in the group chat, and Jess had responded that Simone was beautiful, and he was excited to see who she grew up to be. Rory had responded, "So is her godmother," and that had resulted in another flurry of excitement. There had been general expressions of desire for Paris to get to Philadelphia as soon as she felt comfortable and able, so they could all dote on the baby. Privately, Matt had encouraged her to do so as soon as she was ready, and expressed how much he wanted to meet Simone. She told herself that wasn't in the group chat because of the mocking he was sure to get. She knew what she was telling herself wasn't true.

Matt had been in her head. Less right now- because right now, the world was her and Simone, as previously asserted. But he still occasionally crossed into her thoughts. Paris was, like most women, mothers, and humans, a complex and multifaceted person, and this had all happened at quite an interesting time in her life. Her marraige potentially falling apart felt really rather immaterial to her at the moment, and she'd rather focus her energy on Simone. But still, her thoughts sometimes wandered to Matt, the messages they'd exchanged in the weeks leading up to Simone's birth, and to the project she was embarking upon with the Truncheon men- what that would look like, what it would entail, and what opportunities it might create for all those involved.

She wasn't pushing that piece now, though- just not pushing it away when it happened to come into her mind. After a few hours, she'd decided to respond to him agreeing that she'd come as soon as she was able, and personally, she'd decided to make it a priority to do so.

On the other hand, Paris was still trying to decide if she wanted to go to Lorelai's weding. In one way, that wasn't the issue. She knew she wanted to go, if that were the only factor. But she wasn't certain whether she'd be ready. She had decided unequivocally that if she did go, Simone was coming with her, and Doyle was not. She had texted Lorelai as well yesterday with a picture of Simone and a light request to change her plus one. Lorelai had sent her about 800 exclamation points, and a squealing voicemail, followed by another text assuring her that Simone was more than welcome to accompany her if she decided to come, but that if Paris wasn't yet up for it by that time, Lorelai would completely understand. Paris had expressed her gratitude, and told Lorelai it would probably be a last-minute decision, which Lorelai had assured her was fine. Paris knew she'd likely miss the bachelorette party, which Rory had mentioned Lorelai was sort of trying to make into a broader thing, but Paris was leaving herself open to the possibilities about the wedding. Both because of her interest in being there for Lorelai and Rory, and also out of her interest in seeing all of these people who were now her friends, as well as others who would be in attendance. It was really up in the air- particularly because she had no idea how she'd feel as time went on.

Paris' physical recovery was, to put it lightly, painful. That had been much harder than she'd expected- and she knew that it was still easier than if she'd had to have a c-section. She'd been familiar with what to expect, conceptually. Conceptually turned out to be a whole lot different than actually experiencing it firsthand. It was the only thing about the last week that hadn't left Paris elated- and the only part that she minded handling on her own. It was much harder to do everything herself when even bending too far would send her into a world of hurt. At the same time, it was amazing to Paris how quickly that would escape her mind whenever she was wrapped up in caring for her daughter. She'd become consumed by whatever Simone was doing, what she needed, and the pain would almost disappear- she'd forget it was there, until she set Simone in her crib and then could suddenly feel her aches.

It had been a strange initiation into womanhood, too. Paris hadn't had many girlfriends, and didn't have a lot of support in that sense- but in a moment of pain last night, had asked Lorelai and Lane, over text, very tentatively, for any tips they might have. Both had responded differently, but helpfully. Lorelai's dry wit ("Hard drugs") gave Paris the levity and validation she needed, as well as a sense of camaraderie. Lane, more practically, had sent her a recipe for something called "padsicles". Paris had happily handed off the supply list to Doyle, who was thrilled to get yet another excuse to leave the house, and had assembled and frozen them the previous night. Today, Paris felt about 60% more relief. She had sent Lane an effusive thank-you text, to which Lane had responded with a kind offer to help or advise whenever Paris wanted. Paris knew she'd be taking Lane up on that, and considered the possibility of seeing Lane as good a reason as any to sway her in favor of trying to attend the wedding. Though, at this point, even the idea of putting on a full face of makeup or styling her hair felt utterly laughable and beyond inconsequential. Her lfie had expanded by so many multitudes, and so much had lost its interest for her. Her strongest, truest care was Simone, and she was started to suspect that would always be the case.