Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls is the creation of Amy Sherman-Palladino.
Chapter 16: Archie, Woody, and Paris
Hartford, Connecticut, St. Joseph's Hospital, Friday, May 19, 2017, 9:45 am EST
The phone calls with Honor, and Finn and Colin had set Logan's departure from the hotel back a good forty-five minutes. He shot Rory a text to let her know he'd be late. He didn't want to risk her thinking for a second that he might be a no-show.
By the time he'd stopped at a coffee shop and picked up coffees (decaf for Rory) and croissants, it was quarter to ten -well after his original targeted hospital arrival time. As he approached the door to Rory's room, he noted the ginger-haired male nurse from the previous day - Sean - was at the nurses station. Logan nodded a terse greeting to the man as he passed. Coming to a halt in front of Rory's door, Logan noted the door was slightly open. He knocked, entering at Rory's "come in."
"Morning, Ace."
"Logan."
Logan leaned over to drop a chaste kiss on Rory's cheek.
"Real coffee?"
"Decaf, Ace. Can't have Lucas tap dancing in his crib."
"Please? And you don't know. Maybe he'll be the next Alfonso Ribeiro. If he starts tapping now, before he walks, he's got a good shot of being the youngest Tony award winner ever."
"Ace, if he's got just an eighth of your skill, he won't have a chance in hell."
"That's just mean."
"Two months, Ace. That's how long I was limping after the tango club."
"You're such an exaggerator. Speaking of which, I talked to my mom, grandma and Luke this morning about your claims of mistreatment."
"What? They said I was exaggerating? I swear, Ace. It's been like a telenova around here. Your mom's staring daggers at me while Emily's just waiting for an opportunity to feed my balls to a killer whale."
"Yeah, well I talked to them and explained it was a misunderstanding. Neither of us was at fault and we are starting fresh and I need them to do the same."
"What'd they say?"
"And you ending the engagement helped."
"I'm sure it did. What did they say, Ace?"
"Mom said you're now slightly ahead of the smallpox guy while grandma said she'd reserve judgment. Luke said it seemed like you want to do the right thing."
"Good man." Logan smiled at Rory. "Speaking of Gilmores, where is everybody?"
"You kidding? I get second billing around here. They went down to see Lucas."
"You didn't go?"
Rory smiled. "Figured I'd wait for you and we could go down together."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. Sorry I'm late."
"It's fine. Good you were able to talk to Honor and the guys."
"They send their love. I have a feeling we'll probably be seeing them all soon."
"Wow! Really?"
"Really. Anyway, I wanted to show you something."
Logan started to remove something from his jacket pocket.
"Let's walk around while we talk. I need to get used to not being in a bed."
Logan helped Rory as she gingerly slid out of the bed. Rory had explained how she had had a Caesarian so there were stitches running across her stomach. After a few minutes they were outside the room walking along the hospital corridor.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"42 North Main." Logan handed Rory a brochure on the apartment complex.
"Why didn't you tell me this is what you wanted to talk about before we left the room?"
"What difference would it have made?"
"I didn't grab a pen and paper for a list."
"A pro-con list?"
"Do not mock!"
"I'm not! I miss your lists. How about you rattle them off and I'll keep a running tally?"
"Okay." Rory opened the brochure. "Looks modern and clean. It's five minutes away. The hardwoods will allow me to pick up my stress-tapping."
"Pro. Pro. Con."
"Three bedrooms. Plenty of space for Gilmores."
"Pro?"
Rory laughed. "Let's call it neutral. No secret passageway but you'll be nearby."
"Pro."
"Yeah. We can all have a slumber party."
"All of us? Con."
"Wifi. Pro. Cable. Pro. Courtyard. Pro. Pets allowed. Pro."
"We getting a dog?"
"Paul Anka. My fur-bro."
"Ah."
"You'll need to pick up fast food menus from the neighborhood."
"Please. We can go out and eat. I'll have food delivered so the kitchens are stocked."
"I'm thinking more for mom and Luke. Says here there's an athletic room."
"Yes. You just had a baby. You want to join a gym?"
"No. But I can keep you company while you work out." Smiling, Rory turned to face Logan.
"Ace, you're killing me."
"Sorry."
Suddenly the sound of ladies' heels clicking at a fast clip caught their attention. Looking up the corridor towards the elevator bank the identity of the new arrival was soon apparent.
"Aw, jeez," muttered Logan. "No warning, Rory?"
Rory laughed. "Sorry. She texted she might come but didn't confirm."
"Right."
"What the hell?! Is that Huntzberger?! Didn't you ruin Rory's life enough? First, you blow up her graduation. Then you sweet-talk her into some creepy transatlantic affair. Next you knock her up -destroying her uterus in the process! Way to go there, Blondie!"
"Hey! My uterus is just fine!"
"Now she's got a stomach full of staples. And she'll probably tear her gut open sneezing for the rest of her life!"
Logan groaned. "Please tell me there's a genie lamp we can stick her back into."
Rory shook her head, smiling. "Sorry, Huntzberger. No can do."
Logan turned to face the visitor striding quickly towards them. "Nice to see you, too, Paris."
"And you! Gilmore! Those Puffs were right! Being your friend is like having 24/7 cage-side access to the monkey habitat! When're we gonna start flinging some shit around?!"
"Think you already have." Logan met her eyes. "This is a hospital. And aren't you a doctor? I can't imagine what qualities you have that make up for your behavior in public."
"Nice, very nice," nodded Paris, staring at Logan. "What the hell is the 21st century Hubbell Gardiner doing here, anyway? Christ, Rory! Do I need to bring you to a cabaret so you can belt out the "The Way We Were" and just get it out of your system already?!"
"Paris!"
"Interesting metaphor. Last time I checked I wasn't the one who dropped my family to go Hollywood," smirked Logan. "How is Michael Bay these days?"
"Oh, low-blow, Peter Pan! Did you know I know Savate? One fouette whip kick to your gonads with my five-inch Ferragamos could end you or neuter you. Either way, thank Rory for Lucas 'cause he's definitely your only child."
"I'm impressed. Here I thought you'd never change and you have. You're actually more psychotic now than you were ten years ago. Congratulations."
"Well, I have to say you've really lived up to your potential. And by that I mean you haven't changed at all. Oh, your voice is a little deeper. Shoulders a little broader. But you're the same entitled publotard you always were."
"I've been called worse by better."
Suddenly Paris grabbed Rory's hand. "Rory, please tell me you two aren't back together! There's not enough brown paper bags in the State of Connecticut to hold all the vomit I'd have to throw up!"
"My God! Stop! Back off! Back to your corners! Both of you! I've been a mom like three - no four - days. I can't believe my first real mom act is telling the two of you to shut up!"
Paris and Logan exchanged guilty looks before each mumbled an apology.
"Sorry, Ace."
"Sorry, Rory. Something about him just makes me want to eviscerate him."
"Okay," acknowledged Rory, nodding. "I accept your apologies. Now, Paris, Logan and I are not together. He came to see Lucas. You found us together because we're parents together. That's all."
That's not all.
"So I'm not going to start hearing Peaches and Herb in my head the second we cut to a commercial break?"
"Not unless it's playing for you." Rory shifted her gaze to Logan. "Would you mind if I talked with Paris?"
"Why are you even here? Why aren't you at Yale New Haven? I wouldn't let my cat birth a litter here."
"Paris, that's crazy. You don't have a cat. Come," she held an arm out to her friend. "You obviously need to be walked." Rory, hooking her arm through Paris's, started to guide her to the opposite end of the floor.
"Ace, I'll head down to the cafeteria for a bit. Text me when you're ready for me to come back so we can go see junior." Logan started to walk away from the two women. Pausing, he turned back, a smile on his lips. "Paris, I hope the rest of your day is as pleasant as you are!"
"You!" Paris violently jerked herself away from Rory to twist around and point at Logan. "You need to start wearing speedos, Huntzberger! Pronto!"
As he continued to walk away from them, Logan caught a snippet of their conversation.
"So what's going on with you and Doyle?"
"That segue was about as smooth as Caitlyn Jenner's legs. Doyle and I are on a trial recoupling. Which I do not recommend for you and Richard Burton back there. Unless you're 100% certain something different is gonna happen. And do I really have to remind you of Einstein's definition of insanity?"
Pot meet kettle. Paris Geller was the last person on the planet that ought to be lecturing people on the definition of insanity.
A half hour later found Logan sitting downstairs in the cafeteria reading the Wall Street Journal. Awaiting word from Rory that it was safe to return to the sixth floor, he glanced frequently at his cell phone. It was during one of these casual looks that -out of the corner of his eye- he caught sight of someone approaching him.
A flash on his phone gave him the heads up a second too late.
Hey Paris left. She might try to find you.
Logan closed his eyes briefly. Standing, he mentally thanked Rory. She was right in her observation that she was moving at half speed. A few minutes earlier that message might've actually been helpful.
"Paris," Logan nodded. "It was good of you to come."
"What're you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be following the lesson of your adopted motherland?"
"What're you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Brexit, baby. Nigel Farage? Isolationism?"
Logan sighed. What now? "And what am I supposed to do, Paris? Go somewhere and create my own currency?"
"Please. As if a pound of your fluffy baby-man flesh could qualify as currency. No, I'm talking about Lexit. As in 'Logan-exit'. Rear left if you lack imagination and need full direction."
"And what if I don't?"
"Well, then you better get used to me. I lived through my drama with Doyle. I'm not about to let Rory go through the same bullshit with you. Hang on to your fedora, Archie, 'cause Cousin Maude's here!"
"Fedora? I'm not 90, Paris. I might be buried in one someday, if Lucas inherits the Gilmore sense of humor. But you won't catch me walking around wearing something like that."
"Hey, you said it; I didn't. Better watch yourself Gatsby, or you might find yourself a floater."
"Paris, I appreciate that you're such a good friend and protector to Rory. Believe me. Your tenacity and unfettered rage are the exact personality traits I'd look for in a guard dog-"
"Watch it, Whitey."
" -but you don't have to threaten me. I'm not here to hurt Rory. It's the last thing I want."
"Sure. And when people promise to have and to hold until death do they part, splitting up is the last thing they're thinking of. But shit happens. You somehow wound up having a baby with your ex-girlfriend ten years after you broke up with her. You don't need to explain your intentions to me. I doubt you know them yourself. This isn't a coincidence, Huntzberger. 'Until you make the unconscious conscious-'"
"-it will direct your life and you will call it fate.' Never had you pegged for a disciple of Jung, Paris."
"Yeah, well. I never had you pegged as a moron and I never thought we'd have a president governing by tweets. I guess the takeaway is there's still room in the world for surprises. So maybe there's room for one more."
Logan looked at Paris expectantly. "Lay it on me. Restraint isn't a good look on you."
"Man up, Huntzberger. That's all I'm going to say. You're all brass and bravado when you're jumping off cliffs or piloting puddle-jumpers. Try it on for size with the other stuff."
"Why does everyone see me as the only one responsible here? Rory agreed to our arrangement with her eyes wide open."
"Yeah. Did you ever ask yourself why? Why she would agree to such a thing?"
Suddenly Logan snorted. "'Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.'"
Paris shrugged. "Maybe. There's no accounting for tastes. The heart wants what it wants. Personally, I think it's a cop-out but it hasn't stalled Woody Allen's career one bit."
"Are you comparing Rory -or me - to Woody Allen?"
"Hey, if the emotionally stunted narcissism fits, Huntzberger..."
With that Paris stomped away, leaving Logan staring after her.
AN: Thank you for reading! Sorry for the delay. I wasn't being lazy. I posted my other post-AYITL fic over the past couple of weeks, 'Written in the Stars.' The intent was to understand Rory better by taking up her POV. I think it worked. Since I don't believe Rory would delay telling Logan and ITMH has some drama deliberately tossed in, WITS is my low-stress head canon. Please check it out. I'm considering continuing it with follow-up chapters depicting future milestones, e.g. the proposal, the birth, the Huntzbergers, Rory's book, etc. If you read WITS, please let me know what future moments you'd be interested in seeing.
06/22/2017