"Feels good to be home, doesn't it?" Rory yawned, pulling back the covers of their bed after spending the day in her mother's spa in Stars Hollow followed by another lengthy drive home. Sure, Lorelai had invited them to join them in Woodbury and while she'd been tempted to meet Leo in person, the round ligament pain she'd been experiencing the entire drive from Maine was a clear sign that above all she just needed to take full advantage of the free swimming pool access. She'd felt a guilty for her focus being more than ever on everything else than the relationship with her mother, but she was sure Lorelai knew that too. And of course Finny surely didn't mind the welcome swimming attraction either, Logan doing swirls with Finny around him, his giggles providing a welcome background noise, while Rory just allowed herself to float, sensing how amazing the water felt.
"Tell me about it," Logan sighed, pulling off his t-shirt and landing onto the bed next to her, having just returned from putting Finny to bed. Thankfully the kid had been exhausted, having kept Rory occupied the entire drive back, handing him a book or a toy after another, none of which he seemed to be very happy about as much as simply playing with Rory's hands. It was clear he'd missed his mother's undivided attention
"Can we agree not to make any trips that long as long as I'm pregnant?" Rory suggested, feeling like she really wasn't up for anything like that again, as she slipped under the blanket.
"We can try, but I'm not sure if they'll let you fly in June," Logan replied, knowing that it was still quite likely they'd end up driving to Stars Hollow and the Vineyard at least a couple of time before now and September.
"June?" Rory inquired curiously, not really knowing what he meant.
"Owen's wedding," Logan specified briefly.
"He invited you?" Rory asked surprisedly, raising her eyebrows. She'd only really stuck around until 10 PM or so listening to Owen and Logan talk, the two of them soon finding a common, slightly sarcastic, language, hence feeling a little redundant in that room. Sure, Logan had told her about some of the things they'd talked about but she hadn't expected them to start the bonding right there that night with jumps that big. The guys had stayed up late, half a bottle of scotch disappearing down their throat without noticing and Owen had ended up spending the night in the guest room, but leaving early in the morning to go home to change before work.
"He did," Logan replied proudly, folding his arms behind his head.
"Wow," she exclaimed, taking a moment to grasp that. She could only imagine how big of a step that was to Owen - going from not admitting he knew anything about his father's side of the family, now having an actual brother that was coming to his wedding. Owen had already a step-brother Elijah, through Caleb, the man Catherine was living with these days, but he hadn't grown up with him, so he really was more like an acquaintance he never really connected with. But with an actual genetic connection, which was undeniable just by looking at the two despite Owen's younger age and slightly rougher look compared to Logan, it must've given him at least some feeling of having actual roots.
"I guess we'll cross that bridge once we come to that," Rory added, knowing very little about what the summer months held for her, being due in the beginning of September.
"Yeah, you're right," he reflected, considering briefly if it would've been too weird to just go by himself if needed. He was a little surprised that things had gone as well as they had, but he was pretty sure that Rory, by association, had been a part of that success. It was something Owen had said around 2.30 AM to him, clearly a little drunk by then, that had really made him realize how vital her existence was in recreating this relationship - "As much as I know Rory, which surely is a lot less than you do - no doubt, but if she has found it in her to devote herself to you the way that she has, including taking your name - everything I've read about the Huntzbergers can't possibly be true or at least not the whole truth" - he'd said. And Logan could certainly agree - the very fact that Rory had, despite everything, been able to put up with his screw-ups, less-than-admirable actions and the public attention, spoke a lot about her and the way she saw him. She'd literally walked into the lion's den for him more than once. She'd more than once had to explain her agenda to relatives and journalists who seemed to be confused why she was still focusing on her career. And those were just a few examples.
"Come here," Logan said, rolling over in bed to face his wife, who was laying on her side, her body pillow wrapped under her, pulling himself closer to her despite his words, and let his palm rest on her hip. "Have I told you lately, how much I love you?" he asked, going all serious, suddenly feeling a huge surge of appreciation for his wife.
Rory chuckled, the mysterious deepness in him every now and again still surprising her. "Yeah, like every other day," she replied, scolding playfully, "but you can wipe any naughty thoughts out of your head right now - the only thing that is happening in this bed tonight is sleeping," following that statement with another yawn, her eyes closing already involuntarily.
Logan knew that things were far from resolved when it came to Owen - he still needed to tell Honor for staters. And while he had no doubts that essentially she wouldn't be okay with this, the fact that they'd kept this from her for more than two years, might be a different story. There was still the question of finances of course, which they hadn't really gone into the first night. But he figured, that was a topic really in relation to Mitchum if anyone. Legally, Owen had rights to demand compensation from Mitchum directly, but Logan knew he probably wasn't going to go for it, him seeming to be a very different type of person - while coming off arrogant in certain situations, there was something else about him - sort of pacifistic even, and everything he knew about Owen from Rory, only seemed to confirm that. Either way - it was up to him to ask.
Celeste had carefully timed her first consultation with a local artist, whose drawings she liked and who offered classes, so that April would have the morning off, enabling her to really focus on herself that morning. Sure, she had had time for herself before, Jess graciously usually giving her at least half a Sunday or more to do whatever she wanted. Usually she'd just spend that time to go work out or go to the day spa or lately simply wander the city, looking for inspiration - whether that was street art, galleries or bookstores - didn't even matter much. In a way she felt a little bad about the wandering - as it really should've been something they could've been doing together, even with Evie in toe, but somehow she wanted this to be private. She felt guilty and at the same time and a little worried about what she was doing - why did she love doing that alone so much? was she deliberately distancing herself? Was this search for independence? The beginning of the end? - her thoughts quickly snowballing.
She'd been more nervous than usual that morning, having even changed her clothes a few times, figuring her first outfit of a red wrap dress was over doing it, and exchanged it for a pair of blue slacks and a simple black sweater, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Surely it wouldn't really matter?
"Hi, I'm Celeste, I'm here for the class," she said as soon as the door to the large and airy loft space opened in front of her, the middle-aged red-haired flamboyant woman greeting her in return. She had high expectations of this, to put it lightly. Besides, it had been years since she'd taken any other class that actually dealt with her skills rather than her knowledge and the latter had usually been the online kind for years.
"So this is the space, you can use the easel, pencils and pens you can either use your own or mine, but that's for extra cost naturally in that case," the woman explained, continuing on about the studios opening times when students were welcome to just come and draw without private tutoring.
Celeste felt disappointed by the experience in the first ten minutes, feeling like she was on a conveyor belt of some sort - there was nothing personal. The woman didn't even ask why she was there or what she wanted to achieve, not to mention her style aspirations or what in particular she needed help with. Instead she'd just stuck her behind the easel drawubg a nature morte. Maybe she'd just gotten unlucky with her, but either way after an hour she left the place with a cold but polite goodbye never aiming to return. Sure, she might have learned something from her, how to add depth to her pictures perhaps, but that was something she could learn from Youtube, like a lot of the things she'd learned so far. The guidance she required was not so much technical as creative, and she really didn't know where to search for it.
She still an hour and half before she needed to get back, and she walked back through Gowanus, discarding the light cold drizzle that fell from the sky, melting away the remaining snow from the sidewalk. She frankly just felt like crying - this having been her supposedly big breakthrough, at least mentally, to feel like she was doing something that could become something. Despite being just a few blocks from home, she turned the other direction at the next intersection, deciding she needed to pull herself together before facing Evie and April. She settled into a small cafe, ordering herself a green tea. While she drank it, her fingers half by accident ended up browsing a Brooklyn artists' forum. She'd been pretty sure forums as such were obsolete, but apparently this one wasn't, the latest posts dating back to the same morning. She read a few posts, some more philosophical, some discussing carpal tunnel syndrome cures for artists and some just outright there for inspiration. There were naturally advertisements for anything from supplies to studios and classes as well. But what she found the most interesting were the so-called personals, which weren't really for finding dates or hook-ups - surely in 2019 there were apps that were more convenient for that - but it was rather about matching young artists with mentors. And that sounded like something. She was desperate for that something - and without thinking much she typed her own add under a pseudonym, adding the picture of one of her slightly darker pictures, that had just the hint of sensuality about it - a woman leaning her forehead against a wall, her mouth slightly open, leaving the rest for the imagination of the viewer. It could've been a sex scene, it could've been exhaustion or depression - that was the type of drawing that she loved - hinting but not spelling it out for the viewer. She added a short text saying she was looking for guidance for developing her work into a graphic novel but was unsure if they were suitable for that, specifying that she was self-learned and not too confident in what she was attempting to do.
She knew that both her style and request were pretty specific, hardly expecting a flood of messages on it, but still in a way it felt good asking for help out loud - and if people didn't consider it worthy, this was perhaps the most painless form of feedback - the anonymous kind, or the kind that just ignored her.
Celeste finished off her tea and pulled on her coat, stepping back into the rainy day street. She was almost home, when the first notification arrived - just someone random complimenting her work. It wasn't much, it could've even been just someone being polite, but it was enough to make the corners of her mouth raise a little higher, lifting her out from the hole she'd been in all morning, actually being able to smile genuinely when she stepped through her front door to greet her daughter.
It was after dinner, lentil-veggie gratin, and Jess and Celeste had found both their comfortable positions in the upstairs study, Evie playing on the floor with her activity cube. Jess sat at his computer, reading out a couple of paragraphs he'd been hoping to get Celeste's feedback on, while Celeste browsed her phone, switching between her Kindle app and the artist's forum that had elevated her day notably. Since the first notification she'd gotten about twenty others supportive comments and even three suggestions for mentors, but the names that were mentioned seemed a little daunting to be approachable for someone like her, at least for someone with her current self-esteem, yet she was glad to have suggestions at least.
"...she'd seen darkness like this before, the kind that makes the city look like black-and-white photography. But as soon as she stepped out from behind the corner the yellowness of the high pressure sodium street lamps, changed that, robbing her of common sense and replacing it with irresistible urge to run...," Jess read out another bit of his manuscript, after Celeste had given some suggestion on how to improve it.
"That is a little better," Celeste commented, "but I think there's still something off about it…" she pondered.
"Maybe the 'high pressure sodium street lamps' is a bit too long'," Jess pondered out loud.
"Kind of," she replied, half-heartedly. She loved that he was involving her, but that evening the feedback she was getting at the forum was of more interest to her. As another comment came in she couldn't help but to smile widely.
"What are you so giddy about?" Jess asked, noting her attention being drawn to her phone instead.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just posted one of my pictures to a forum and people are commenting on it," Celeste explained.
"Uh?" he reacted surprisedly. He knew she'd been continuing to draw naturally and that she was considering classes but that she was posting her stuff, was news to her. "You think that's wise?" he pondered, having copyright issues in his mind out of professionalism.
"It's just one, but as they are just standing here, I see now harm," she replied, not liking the way Jess was doubting her move.
"I guess," he shrugged, seeing her get defensive.
"The class I went to today was a bust," she added, shedding light to her morning.
"Oh yeah?" Jess inquired.
"She didn't even aske what I wanted help with, just had me draw a vase or something. I feel like I'm speaking the wrong language or something when I asked around for classes. I found everything from watercolor painting to cartoon drawing but it's like none of them do anything other than the technical part - and that's not what I need the most," she explained.
"So what are the commenters saying?" he inquired moving to sit besides Celeste, realizing that his original reaction might have seemed a little abrupt.
"It's largely positive, some suggestion on how to improve it, which I agree with, I got some suggestions for some other people I might go consult with," Celeste added.
"Good," Jess replied supportively, placing his hand across the back of the sofa, stroking her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
They watched Evie climb up to the sofa to join them, her cute red polka-dotted diapers matching well with the red tunic she was wearing. She climbed on top of Jess, saying "Daddy, op," which was her way of telling she wanted Jess to play Bumpy Road with her.
"Alright," he relented, positioning Evie to sit facing him on his thighs, and began to bounce her.
They were about two rounds of Bumpy Road in the game, when Celeste noted another suggestion on her post - "You know, there should be this one guy working in Brooklyn who used to specialize in graphic novels, drew some himself even, and specifically this kind of noir themes. I'm not sure if he's actively working on them these days but you could try to look him up - his name was Noah Heart or Hart - or something like that, I'm not sure," the message from a user called samanthabrooks80 said.
Celeste couldn't help but wonder whether it was like some strange ironic twist of faith - like a sign that she just couldn't avoid the guy. It wasn't like this hadn't come up before, but out of all people - it seemed like the most terrifying road to take. But then again - if he did know the field and his background check was clear - if they avoided the unmentionable topic, perhaps he could indeed help her?
She quickly googled 'Samantha Brooks' just to note whether see herself seemed trustworthy - and she did, being the owner of a artist's co-workin space in Williamsburg and her public friends list on Facebooks displaying quite a few famous names.
"Jess, do you think it would be a horrible idea if talked to Noah about my work?" Celeste asked, surpising Jess out of the game. She knew that Jess had put a lot of trust in him already and he seemed to be happy with that decision though having been hesitant at first.
It had come up in Truncheon and also with Rory and technically he'd always kept that option in his back pocket if she'd need it. But he hadn't offered it, he wasn't even sure why - perhaps just as a mean of protecting her - though what was there really to protect if he knew her history as it was?
"I think it's an idea - whether it is horrible or not, I really can't answer," he replied honestly, leaving the decision up to her.
