AN: Just a few more chapters of this painful C/J stuff, I promise. I just felt this mental health thing needed some more in focus in this story. And to really show it's colors it needed to have detail, but I get it - it's not a terribly fun read. Feel free to skip if that's what you feel you need to do, I know it can be hard to read especially to those who've been through something similar. But I have some ROGAN coming in this chapter as a treat as well.
But the really good news: I have a holiday next week (just needed to use up some days) and because we have lockdown right now, I have little other plans than writing a lot.
Rory had been over for a playdate with Finny that morning and Celeste had described to her how she'd spent her evenings without Jess indulging - doing many of the things she normally didn't really do - comfort eating, having a few glasses of wine alone, lounging in a bathtub full of colorful and scented bath salts, that couldn't possibly be good for you, and even mentioning how she'd dug out her Lelo wand, that had hardly gotten any use in the past two years, and spent an hour with a smut novel. The latter offered them both a good laugh. There wasn't anything funny about taking care of one's own needs, but it was the smut novel - the two of them having once discussed in depth curiously how they didn't really know who these women were that these were written for. Mostly this was Celeste simply giving Rory an update on how she was trying to work down the bucket list she'd started with Rory, the list by now including also a lot of things she'd just forbidden herself for years - needing to always fit into size 2 designer gowns or simply putting the ovaries first. While she didn't intend to stop her routines, she felt she owed herself to try at least all the things on that list that seemed easy. These distractions were certainly the easy things, but they were just that - distractions.
She'd also told Rory how she'd ran into Noah and that the book was in progress, feeling surprisingly energized by that interaction. It gave her some hope that some small fraction of her life had a concrete purpose, that she had a goal that was tangible, something that she might actually be able to achieve.
Celeste, however, hadn't discussed with Rory how serious some of her thoughts concerning Jess had been. It hurt too much to think about it, let alone to say the words out loud. Besides, she was scared Rory would hate her for even thinking about hurting Jess like that and truth be told she really wasn't sure what to do with those thoughts herself. She'd even for a brief moment considered moving herself upstairs to the guest room, but didn't, not wanting to upset him that very night, not with Evie around. She almost felt it would've been the easiest if Jess really would be distancing himself like it had first seemed before she found out Lorelai had talked to him, that it would all come from him. She wished that he'd be the one to realize that he shouldn't have to put up with her crap. It was a blunder of emotions - at the same time a part of her was kind of waiting for his return, looking forward to having another adult in the house again and they did function well in their daily life. She really didn't know how she was going to hold it together when she saw him, and because of this this reason she now sat at the living room couch, that overlooked their foyer, watching Evie on the floor playing with her shape sorting kit, biting her nails - another thing she almost never did.
The sudden squeal of happiness that Evie let out the moment Jess walked through the door almost left her hard of hearing, the toddler probably taking her first few real running stepps to get to him.
"Hey," she said, as she rose to meet him, casting a weak smile on her face. She just kept repeating to herself that she needed to keep it together.
"Hey," he said, as he pulled her close without warning, laying a quick kiss on the lips and hugging her as well as possible, with Evie on his hip at the same time.
His warmth, his scent, his touch - they all felt like a gut punch - those she had missed, even without realizing it. It was as if her mind and her body were feeling opposing things - her body still reacted but her mind was just numb towards the positives and only really reacting to the pain. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and took a step back to gather herself.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, as she turned and headed for the kitchen.
"I could eat," he replied, the airplane food having not been the greatest.
Evie hung onto Jess' neck, unwilling to let go.
"You miss me?" he asked, Evie providing the perfect cover, hoping Celeste would reply instead.
"Of course we missed you," Celeste replied, as she turned around, picking up on his tone. It felt like the best she could do. She'd just pulled together the components of an avocado sprout sandwich she knew Jess loved and was starting to make it, appreciating having something to do.
He could hear it in her voice that it took her a great deal of effort to say those words. He'd had a long day, and once again, as much as he wanted to say something - approach the elephant in the room - there was Evie, and he didn't want to confuse or scare Evie by pushing Celeste so she would cried in front of her.
It was only as they went to bed later, when Jess pulled her close, despite her reluctance at first, her eyes in hiding, and wrapped his arms around her, and as he'd expected she'd just let go all of her tears.
"I see you. We'll get you some help, okay?" Jess whispered into her hair as she sobbed, not saying a word. "It's going to be okay," he assured. He didn't know it of course and he had little idea at that moment how exactly was he going to fulfill that promise - that world being a mystery to him, but it was evident to him that this was not just a bad mood or a loss of connection, this was a constant struggle for her. He'd pushed his own emotions aside, as if they they were something that could just be postponed. He knew he needed to hold it together and not react - not blame her or force more out of her than she was able to give.
She cried herself to sleep - not making any sense of what she was feeling - she wanted his touch, but at the same time kept hating herself, hoping that she wouldn't have to hurt him like this. He didn't deserve this - she didn't deserve his patience. The crying actually helped a little, Jess' touch acting like a catalyst of some sort numbing her emotions. The next morning it was like she'd switched back to her usual semi-content self, focusing on making an elaborate breakfast for her family and going about her day as if nothing was wrong.
"I ran into Noah the other day," Celeste said as they sat down at the breakfast table, beautifully decorated spirulina smoothie bowls and tomato bruschettas in front of them and eggs for Evie.
"How's he doing?" Jess asked, still observing her with caution. He wasn't under the illusion she was suddenly fixed, but the pressure seemed to have lessened at least a little.
"He has the funeral today but he said he was pretty desperate for something other to do that sit around and think about it, so we agreed we'd talk about our book on Monday,"
"I should text him something today," Jess pondered, trying to think like his employer. He was also slightly surprised by how fast she'd switched from 'her' book to 'their' book in her mind.
"I invited him here, I hope that's not weird for you," Celeste said hesitantly. She'd pondered a whole day how she felt about it herself, but not currently thinking of a better option, she'd accepted it. Now she just needed to sort through her binder and print out the standard privacy agreement for him to sign.
It did feel a little weird that she would just invite the man, who very recently neither of them had trusted, to their home like that, but given her schedule which involved mostly Evie, and her current state of mind, he really wasn't going to make a big deal of it, thinking she was probably just thinking practically. "If it works for you to invite him here, it's fine," he added casually. He just hoped that in the long run this would help somehow.
"Good," she sighed. She did recall Jess' words from last night, but there was some sort of a barrier that she still felt unable to cross - she felt powerless to act on getting help - like help was just out of reach, a thousand obstacles on her path to get there and as she really didn't want to ruin their weekend by talking about it, instead she just kept up the motions. They ended up taking Evie to the park as usual, the sight of Jess playing with her shedding some brighter light on her day.
Jess felt like walking on glass again, almost wishing he was back in Chicago, but he knew that his absence, while enabling to ignore the issue, wasn't really a solution. There were bigger things to think about than just the two of them - there was Evie.
"It feels wrong going out like this," Rory complained, as she was just putting on her small dangly sapphire earrings, Logan had gotten her for Christmas, to go out for a show of some sort and dinner later, having had an early dinner at home with Finny already.
"We shouldn't just deprive ourselves of a fun night just because they're having issues," Logan argued. Besides, he'd been planning this for a few weeks now.
"But you should've heard Jess, he was so worried," Rory explained, having just spent half an hour on the phone with Jess that day, him trying to find Celeste some help. She'd given him the contacts of her therapist but she wasn't sure she'd be available, hence she'd also texted Paris in the meanwhile and gotten a few more names. She could only hope that one of those would help, feeling guilty for not having gotten her to open up about what she was going through when she'd been over yesterday. But she got it, with kids around it was much easier to hide stuff like this.
"So we make time tomorrow - go see them, or take Evie off their hands for a few hours if they want," Logan suggested. Sure he was worried about Celeste, but having not really seen the situation first hand, he figured there wasn't much they could be doing right at that minute. He and Celeste had been once really good friends, at some point, almost best friends, but these days their lives had really taken separate directions and now it was rather Rory with whom Celeste seemed to connect with and want to interact with. Sometimes he felt like Celeste acted in fact like she had never been Odette, and as if there hadn't been all that history between them either. Maybe it was easier for her like that - he didn't know, but to him it wouldn't have been an issue. Logan also knew a thing or two about dealing with Rory's mental health issues - while perhaps simpler in their essence - abandonment and commitment issues that she still saw Dr. Roberts about twice a month for. Rory had largely overcome it - and here he knew his part in it had been major - he needed to make her feel safe, and he felt pretty confident he understood her well enough by now, knowing what that meant in practice.
Rory took a deep breath, realizing that Logan was probably right. They too had a deadline when it came to grabbing any last shred of their own time they had left - hence relenting on the idea of going out despite feeling a little guilty at the same time.
The guilt was not eased by the fact that this was the first evening Finny was going to be staying home with Maya, the new nanny they had hired. While they didn't need her fulltime just yet, they'd started getting Finny used to her a few days a week, even if Rory was just at home writing. Maya's culinary skills were definitely coming in handy these days, as Rory felt almost constantly hungry but could only really eat small meals without getting heartburn.
"Finny, come say bye-bye!" Rory said, wanting to crouch down to meet his eye level, but that was not a good idea in the heels she'd insisted on wearing that night wanting to feel like she actually looked good, fearing she might just lose her balance completely if she did. Instead she heaved him onto her hip, trying to stay upright while she did, Logan observing her carefully. Logan really didn't like her lifting him anymore, afraid she might hurt herself. What looked especially creepy to him was when she held him above her bump, feeling as if he might crush the girls somehow, but for now Rory seemed fine with it.
"Mommy! Finny called out as he rushed to her. "Me come?" he asked with his best puppy dog eyes he'd by now mastered.
"You're going to stay home with Maya tonight, okay? You're going to play, take a bath and then...she'll read you a story - any story you like, okay?" Rory spoke in a soft voice, stroking his soft Tintin hair, and placed him into Maya's arms instead.
It took Finny a moment to grasp the concept, as Logan was helping Rory with her coat, that now hung over her dark blue bodycon dress with a deep V neck, but as a result the corners of Finny's mouth curved downwards when he realized his parents were really leaving, withholding the cry for a good twenty seconds.
"Oh, no-no… please," Rory pleaded, her heart breaking at the sight of him, her hormones really not helping.
The cry was loud, and his bottom lip quivered as he wept. It was if the world was ending.
"Finny, we'll be back before you know it," Logan assured, kissing his crying son reassuringly on the forehead. "Ace, you ready?" he asked, knowing that they just needed to go or things would quickly escalate and they'd never make it out of there. They'd already made that mistake once before - one extra hug turning into another and eventually the crying just escalating into more crying.
Rory looked at Logan pleadingly, and then back at Finny - how could she leave Finny like that? - large tears falling from the kid's eyes. Maya was already preparing to distract him with a few toys, but waited for them to exit before she tried any of those, and Rory noticed that. This was certainly not the first time Rory and Logan had seen those tears, nor for Maya, in her years of practice, and realistically thinking everybody knew that the kid would probably just forget about the whole thing in the next five minutes once he got used to the new situation.
"Bye baby!" Rory added once more, as Logan pulled her towards the elevator, knowing he needed to and Rory would thank her later.
Rory looked at the elevator mirror, trying to look up so the beginnings to tears that she'd been sensing would disappear. Damn her hormones. She felt horrible leaving Finny like that, but she knew better. This was not child torture, he was going to have a great time with Maya - she kept repeating to herself.
"You look gorgeous by the way," Logan said as he put his arm around her, kissing her neck from the side briefly, knowing how this usually did the trick, when he needed to distract her.
"Now, do we even need to go to the show or are we just going to Le Meridien again?" she replied as she saw that look in his eyes. It had happened twice now that instead of going along with their date plans they'd just check in at a nearby hotel, where Logan knew a concierge, who ensured their privacy and enjoyed the room service and indulged in themselves. The place wasn't even very fancy, but ideal for a hideout.
"Sorry, already checked, they're fully booked tonight," Logan admitted with a smirk. He loved when they did that. "But seriously this show is supposed to be good," he assured, interlinking his fingers with hers as he led her out to their ride, the security guard downstairs wishing them a pleasant evening.
"What is this?" Rory asked as he glanced over Logan's somewhat usual choice in cars for the evening. She'd seen Uber's in all shapes and sizes, limos, sports cars, rickshaws and even a horse carriage once, but this was new.
"That is a 1950 Ford Pilot," Logan replied, feeling somewhat proud of his find, as he helped her into the car, while the driver held the door for them. He went around to the other side, and got in by himself, not wanting her to bother moving within the car, knowing it was a little tricky for her in her condition. What Rory didn't really know was that Logan had sold Elias' car collection, that he'd inherited, that Elias had had in Greenwich for a steal price for one of the major speciality car rentals last year, and in return talked them into a lifetime of special conditions for their rentals, which he figured would prove handy every now and again, but frankly with being busy with Finny, he hadn't hardly taken as much advantage of it as he had hoped. But surely, he'd extended his privileges to Finn and on occasion to Robert as well.
"And you really expect that to tell me anything?" Rory raised her eyebrows at him.
"We're going to a bit of a vintage theme tonight, so I figure why not indulge a little," Logan smirked.
The driver took them to Chelsea, and as they got there one of the venue's security guards discreetly handed them two face masks which were of an eerie shape, almost like out of 'Eyes wide shut" but plain white without any embellishments.
"If it gets too scary for you, we can leave," Logan hinted, mysteriously, squeezing her hand.
"What is this place?" as she rose out of the car, holding on to Logan's arm.
"It's a club that does some immersive theater apparently, but really - it's supposed to be better than it sounds," Logan assured, as he led her through the doors, the security guard letting them in without the line. Logan knew Rory usually didn't like special treatment like that, but under the circumstances - nearly 5 months along and in heels, she wasn't arguing.
"They're not going to drag the audience on stage are they?" Rory began to fret.
"They might," he teased with a wide smirk. But after seeing the look of dread on Rory's face, he added "but I got us a special table, don't worry." He wasn't born yesterday.
The place was indeed special - dimly lit and carrying a certain 30's or 40's feel, though nothing that specific, dark red velvety backdrops, sketchy sets that people were allowed to interact in - the creepy rust-stained bathroom; the desk of a crazy detective on the verge of a breakthrough, with what appeared to be the remnants of a kidnapping crime scene; an eerie child's bed just left there, the half-packed suitcase waiting on the bed as if having left suddenly.
"Is it just me or does that bed look a lot like mine in Stars Hollow?" Rory pointed out the resemblance of the carved bed poles.
"Your's was definitely cheerier," Logan chuckled at the comparison. "Come on, let's order something before it gets too crowded," he added trailing to the velvet rope separated section just left of the stage, where they were seated at a dark green velvet couch, enabling them to snuggle up comfortably, Rory even having the luxury to put her legs up under the table that had a tablecloth down to the floor.
"Where did you find this place?" Rory inquired.
"Finn knows the producer and he sort of has an in with the costume director," he explained, making Rory roll her eyes. Of course it was Finn - Finn knew somebody almost everywhere in Manhattan. And while he might not have been the most traditionally respectable guy in the eyes of most people, to them his genuine care for his friends, that really extended beyond friend even, was worth more than the fact that he partied hard and enjoyed the rows of women falling at his feet each time he opened his mouth.
Logan ordered himself a scotch and Rory was perfectly content with the non-alcoholic apple cider, she was quite surprised they had, but she had a suspicion it might have been Logan's hand at play at that too.
The show began with blues, the song quickly changed into a full blown Clockwork-orange-like fight scene, Rory recognizing a lot of the props from various Life and Death Brigade Events, including the tophats from their last wild ride to New Hampshire, Finn's connection to the costume director suddenly making a lot of sense.
"I wonder what they replaced the hat, that I have in our closet, with?" Rory whispered to Logan's ear, her hand linked around his forearm.
"We'll see," Logan replied. And that they did. The fight scene ended as a character called Queen Bee called it to a halt, her current hat holding a few more feathers and a pair of goggles differing quite a lot from the one Rory had.
"I bet Finn got a real scolding for losing that one," she chuckled quietly.
Logan replied with an appreciative smile, not really needing to reply. The last Life and Death brigade event had been very much a bittersweet one, and that didn't need to be said, but if Logan hadn't demanded Robert and Colin to take that weekend off to play, as they often put it, as if his life had depended on it, they wouldn't have been here either. He'd come to accept that sometimes finding the real joy in life needed to come through a series of unfortunate events, whether that involved hurt, miscommunications or loss, didn't even really matter. They'd overcome those together.
At some point during the show some of the audience was pulled into the play, Rory almost holding her breath as they did, hoping that their special table was indeed that special, feeling already rather comfortable snuggled into Logan's side without her heels on. But the show itself was pretty good, the first part being more about action, tears and declarations of love rather than horror as they had expected. Sure, some scenes built up some tension for it, but as the scary parts could be somewhat expected to anyone who'd ever worked with books, the classic moments building up to the story's climax possible to be pinned down almost to the minute, Rory and Logan watched it with perhaps a little differently than the crowd who sat in the first row.
"That was different," Rory sighed as she pulled the collar of her coat up to her neck, the wind having picked up a bit as they emerged from the club, while most of the crowd seemed to stay on for the club scene afterwards.
"Yeah, I figured we needed something different," Logan replied.
"What? Afraid that we're becoming the boring married couple already?" Rory prompted, as she clung to his arm.
"Not that, but surely you can't blame me for taking precautions to avoid that from happening?" Logan replied, turning to face her, as they stood out front on the street.
Rory didn't disagree with that statement naturally, but still there was some creepy sense in her gut that perhaps Logan was a little worried about them.
"So you want to take the car and go get some food?" he asked, knowing that Rory was very much in charge of their food intake schedule.
"I kind of feel like walking a little," she replied, having sat for an hour and a half almost, she now just felt like moving. Though she had a pretty good feeling she might regret it afterwards because of the heels.
They walked for about ten minutes, just taking in the spring evening, lots of people out on the streets enjoying themselves.
"Damn, we really are the old boring married couple, aren't we?" Rory suddenly came to a halt, her thought process having begun ticking the boxes of how they qualified for that: worked a lot, mostly talked about kids and careers, they were more than comfortable around each other - hiding nothing and worse of all they were finding less and less things to talk about because they could already guess each other's answers.
"And is that so bad?" Logan tried to say optimistic.
"But I don't want to be the old married couple?" Rory fretted almost poutingly.
"Want to get a divorce and get married again - then we can be newlyweds again?" Logan suggested jokingly.
"Don't even joke about that," Rory objected, just imagining the kind of field day the press would have if they did, even if it was just for laughs.
A few minutes passed.
"Do you think I'm falling too much into the society wife role?" Rory asked, beginning to feel a like she was swimming against the current when it came to these things and teh current was constantly speeding up. She'd basically been pregnant nearly one third of the marriage, basically half of it not quite working to her full capacity. And other than getting her degree, she didn't exactly have huge career milestones to show for. She almost felt like the women who went to university in the 60s, like her grandmother, whose history degree had essentially just been the means to become a well-rounded person who was able to keep up a conversation. And while she respected her choices as it was a different time, she really didn't want to become that.
Logan knew the only right answer here was - "Never," he replied. But he knew that was not really what she wanted to hear. "I don't think you can ever really fall into that, you maybe have some characteristics, you socialize, you enjoy the benefits of course, but you shouldn't forget that you also take advantage of those benefits to really work towards something other than owning the next collection of Chanel or throwing the most glamorous New Year's party. You want to make a difference, and to do that with a different kind of hard work, not just by throwing a fundraiser," Logan explained.
"But does it show?" she asked, as they continued to walk slowly.
"Do you want it to show?" Logan asked, as they came to a halt at a traffic light.
"I don't know. Kind of?" she hesitated. She really hadn't thought of it like that. While she usually didn't appreciate media attention, she was now beginning to ponder whether she actually should be drawing attention to what she was doing - maybe it was something she should've been taking more advantage of.
Logan raised his eyebrows at her, having really not expected to hear that.
"But isn't that…?" he began, knowing better than to finish that sentence. "Well, either way, you can do what you want - run fundraisers, write about how the school system is crap, or buy designer clothing - I know you'll never fit into any of the society molds," he added.
"Yeah," she laughed, adding, "I probably won't fit into any molds, nor dresses, in a few months's time," feeling a firm kick aimed at her intestines, being reminded by the tiny passengers she was carrying.
They soon reached the restaurant Logan had planned for them, a classy Italian bistro.
"Hungry yet?" Logan asked, beginning to feel kind of hungry himself already.
"I am, but maybe we could just grab a few tacos on the way home or something?" Rory replied, not really feeling like being around other people anymore.
Logan almost felt like he should've guessed it. Rory was never going to be the likes of Cynthyia Fallon or Walker Hinman, and that would never get old. He kissed her on the street, his hand cradling the back of her head, clearly liking the prospect of being alone with her.
