A/N- No real note today. More tomorrow. Enjoy! Read, review, recommend, and I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of its concepts or chaters.
Chapter 46
Later that evening, Jess found himself closing the diner hours after Rory had gone up. Luke had encountered some sort of Taylor-related emergency that actually necessitated him attending a town meeting. Lorelai had gone with him, but Rory had opted out, not even offering an explanation to Lorelai. Which, to be honest, relieved Jess. At least she wasn't lying and making excuses anymore. Lorelai had looked slightly concerned but not questioned it and just confirmed that they would see them before they left the next day to return to Philadelphia.
After finally finishing everything up downstairs, he walked up, assuming that Rory's head would be buried within a book. What he didn't expect was to find her on her bed with about thirty of her books strewn about, some on top of each other, all of them open. Jess furrowed his eyebrows.
"Look, I know that some people say that books are their friends, but this seems…"
"You're the one who's been talking to them," Rory cut him off, meeting his eyes. She gestured at the books and he leaned over to look. Sure enough she had gathered almost every book he'd been annotating since he started staying here. Sheepishly Jess shrugged.
"Sorry. Habit," he replied, "Hope you're not mad."
"Mad?" Rory stood up. His white tee shirt hung haphazardly off her bare shoulder. She didn't bother to adjust it as she walked straight toward him. "Jess…these aren't notes to yourself."
"Well wouldn't it be selfish of me to write marginalia only pertinent to my own wishes in books that are legally your property?" Jess challenged, unabashedly glancing at the exposed skin. Rory flushed pink. Jess smirked and continued. "And I might be a lot of things, but I can promise you I'm very generous."
Rory glared at him and he laughed. She tried to keep a straight face, and failing, decided to ignore the comment. "Jess, this is serious. These are the kinds of things we…"
"Always wrote? Have always written?" Jess took a step towards her. Rory's eyes didn't leave his, even as they darkened. "Rory, I know time has passed. But you're still you and I'm still me and the way we talk, act, think…when it comes to each other, a lot of things will be the same as they always were. It doesn't matter if you're in crisis and for once I'm responsible. On that deeper level, we're the exact same goddamn people we've known each other to be since we met."
"You have a point," Rory breathed, suddenly aware of how close Jess was to her. "I wasn't complaining about it. I was just…"
"Asking?" he ventured. She nodded cautiously. Jess smirked. "Look, I know how much you like the control and to know what the plan is. But there isn't one. I know you're having a hard time figuring out what's going on with you or how to cope with it, but let me give you some advice. Start here, with this. Let go of the fact that you don't know what's going to happen or if anything will, and that I don't either, and just let the chips fall as they may. Let things happen organically, or not happen. Accept that it's beyond us, either of us, and be okay with that. Can't you see that sometimes that's better?" Jess leaned in closer, until his lips were barely three inches from Rory's own. He softly continued, "The not knowing, the letting it happen, the fate, not knowing how the book ends before you pick it up. Stop trying to manipulate and control the story just because you're afraid of the bad parts. Just let it play out."
Everything had frozen again and Jess was so enraptured that he was tempted to…but he couldn't. No. It was more important that this be about her getting better. Figuring her shit out. Rory inhaled shakily and Jess repressed a smile, leaning back. He saw the quick flash of disappointment in Rory's eyes, though her expression quickly cleared.
"Look. Right now, you need to focus on you," Jess told her, his voice low. "There's no rush and you can take all the time you need, but you need to focus your energy on figuring things out, or at least getting to your next step."
"Jess," Rory said quietly, coming close to him again, "I know. I am. And I do. I want to figure it out, to understand, and I promise you I will and I'll fix things as best as I can. But I can completely promise you that I'll be doing it as myself. No more airs or excuses or any of it. If I'm finally going to do this, I'm going to do it right. Otherwise it's a waste of not only everything I'm going to do but of all the things you've already done for me."
"Stay," Jess almost whispered. Rory looked confused.
"What?" Rory questioned, "Stay where? Here?"
"No. In Philadelphia," Jess replied, his voice soft but definitive, "At Truncheon. With me. No more time limits or discussions of when the visit ends. From now on, you're there. As long as you still want to be."
"Honestly, Jess?" Rory admitted, "I don't think I'd feel right anywhere else. Thank you, really. For all of this. You didn't have…"
"Doesn't matter," Jess responded, his eyes full of determination, and Rory smiled, giving him an appreciative nod. Sometimes with Jess it was better if you didn't push.
"Now, if you could just explain why in the hell you thought that of all the books of mine that are here for you to deface, you had to choose Jane Austen," Rory grumbled, beginning to gather the books and re-shelve them. Jess grabbed a stack and began to help, smirking again.
"Read the Buikowski concurrently and everything will make more sense, I promise."
