Rory's head was pounding, and with every step she took on her way to her mom's house another term she had just discussed with Jess came to mind. Typesetting. Structural editing. Intellectual property. Marketing.
At least Jess was going to be the editor. He had offered to assign one of his partners on Truncheon to do it due the possible conflict of interests, being in the book himself, but Rory declined, insisting that it had to be him. Eventually he agreed, not without expressing his doubts, but she wouldn't have trusted a stranger with this.
She tightened her grip on the manuscript Jess had just returned to her. The content editing worried her more than anything, seeing that the content was in fact her life. What if it just wasn't enough? How could she let anyone change anything, knowing that she'd be conveying a false narrative of her own experiences?
But it was him, she reminded herself. It was Jess, after all. He knew her, and he definitely knew what he was doing. Having already read his fair share of both classics and obscure fringe works by the time she first met him, at 17, she was certain that his literary knowledge had grown beyond belief over their lost years. And he would never force her to change anything she didn't want to change, add anything she didn't want to add.
This thought made the knot inside her chest feel a little looser. She knew him, too. She knew that under his many layers of self-preservational behaviors he was firm, but not stern. There was this gentleness about him which revealed itself only when he felt safe enough to let it show. She was suddenly washed by the memory of him squeezing her arm gently and leaving her confused outside of that Hartford bar, when she was taking that god awful period of time off of Yale, only turning around to wish her a happy birthday.
Succumbing to the nostalgia wave, she drifted even further down memory lane, feeling the ghost of his arm on her shoulder, his thumb tracing the lines of her cheekbone, his lips on hers. It felt weird to think that there was a time when he was her guy, when she was his girl, and they walked the very same streets she was walking now, holding hands, never assuming that they were only two ships passing, short episodes in each other's lives.
He was different now. She was different now.
Soon, lost in thought, Rory appeared in the driveway of Lorelai's house, finding a quiet Lorelai leaning on the porch railing, stargazing.
"What'cha doin'?" She asked, joining her. A half full cup of coffee was on the wooden floor, next to her mother's feet. It wasn't hot, no steam was snaking out of it. she must have been out there for a while.
"I'm just thinking," Lorelai replied, and Rory could see right through the weak smile she had offered her.
"About what?"
Lorelai let out a small sigh. "About Babette and Morey, Actually."
"Oh," Rory felt a small prick of pain in her heart. When Morey passed away, a little over two years earlier, It seemed as if time had stopped around Stars Hollow for a few days. No one could believe it. No one knew what they could possibly say to Babette, what condolences they could possibly offer her. Lorelai and Ms. Patty hadn't left her side for months.
"You know, when I had you, I never thought about what it would mean for my love life." Lorelai continued her thought, and Rory kept silent. They had never discussed it before. "I mean, I gave it absolutely no thought at all. All that mattered was being able to take care of you. You were my whole world." She glanced over to Rory, shooting her a quick smile. "You still are, basically. But you grew up, you became so independent so fast, and I loved you for it. But then, I remember thinking - this is it for me. I will never have what you're supposed to have, what all the books and the movies and the TV shows say you're supposed to have. And for a while, it sucked. It sucked bad. But then I thought to myself, hey, maybe there's a good side to it." Lorelai smiled again, to herself this time. "And I got really used to it, you know? Centering my entire life around you. But it all changed, and look at us now. Look where you are, look where I am. I wake up with Luke every morning and go to sleep with him every night, and have been for the last 15 years. I can't imagine my life without him anymore," The last few sentences were blurted out, and Rory could hear the tears welling up. Lorelai placed her hand over her chest and drew a couple of shaky breaths. Rory laid her hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, mom," She whispered, and Lorelai couldn't help but let a choked whimper loose. "Hey." She embraced her mother, who instinctively began to run her hands over Rory's back, rubbing it as if she was the one in need of comfort. "Where is all this coming from?"
"I don't know, hon," Lorelai sniffled, and backed out from Rory's embrace to wipe her eyes and give a short, teary laugh, and the first genuine smile of the entire conversation. "I don't know where it's coming from. But let me tell you something, it's so worth it."
"What is?"
"Having someone in your life, having them for good. Knowing that no matter what, you're not alone in anything. I know you have Sylvie to think of, and you always will. But hon, when you feel you're ready for it… The fact that you're a single mom doesn't mean that you have to stay alone forever. It took me forever to figure it out."
"Yeah, I know that," Rory swallowed hard. "I wasn't avoiding it or anything, I just…"
"I know the situation is complicated." Lorelai picked up her cup and gestured lightly towards the door, implying that they should get inside. "And I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. All I'm saying is, if a good one ever crosses your path, don't give it up with some lame-o excuse. Go for it."
I will, Rory wanted to assure her mother, to say the right words that will help her calm down, to know that she, her daughter, was alright. But the words got stuck in her throat for some reason. Her natural impulse to please was overruled by something much more powerful - she wasn't sure if she'd be telling the truth, and she couldn't lie to her mother. Not now, not after all these years of nothing but care, acceptance and support.
Instead, she drew a deep breath. "I don't think I'm ready yet, mom". She confessed shakily.
Surprisingly, Lorelai seemed as if Rory's response had stabilized her, rather than fed her insecurities. "It's okay." She reassured. Rory nodded and swallowed. "You wanna go inside? I think Sylvie is just winning her eleventh round of checkers against Luke."
"What is she still doing up? It's almost eleven o'clock," Rory raised an eyebrow, but Lorelai didn't seem too impressed. The older woman shrugged.
"You know how he is with her." She excused her husband's behavior. "She flutters her eyelashes at him and he's a goner."
"Well, they do say that blondes have more fun," Rory arched an eyebrow, seeing an opening to lighten the mood and using it masterfully.
"Maybe I should go blond," Lorelai mused as they walked in to find a sulking Luke and a victorious Sylvie, who was trying to hide her gloating smile, not very successfully.
