Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls is the creation of Amy Sherman-Palladino.
Chapter 39: Test Run at the Dragonfly, Part I
Stars Hollow, Connecticut, Dragonfly Annex, Saturday, June 24, 2017, 3:00 pm EST
As Logan accompanied Rory into Lorelai's new inn, his eyes took in the space with appreciation. Similar in style and decor to the first Dragonfly, the annex was considerably larger but had been designed to emulate the intimate feel of the original. It had also been deliberately planned to mirror the first inn, incorporating all the same features only reversed.
"Wow. It feels like I haven't seen this place in a million years." Logan, pausing behind her, watched as Rory continued to walk around the expansive room, examining every inch of the inn's lobby and front desk area. Once her survey was complete, Rory turned around to look at Lucas, who was contentedly snuggled inside a baby carrier on Logan's chest. "Or maybe more like six weeks."
"It looks great, Ace. Your mom's outdone herself."
Rory took a step closer to Logan and Lucas.
"Yeah. She has. It really did come out nice." Peering intently at the baby, Rory's face revealed her concern. "He okay?"
"He's fine."
"Carol's supposed to be here by three-thirty."
"That's a half-hour."
"I'll feel better when he's settled in the room. You don't think he's too warm?" Rory lifted her fingers to feel the baby's forehead.
"Ace, the kid's content. Look at him. He's not exactly shy about expressing his displeasure."
Rory chuckled. "Yeah. That's true. He kinda takes after Finn and Colin that way."
"Ouch! You just had to go there?"
"Hm." Rory smirked. Logan returned her smile. "You know something, Huntzberger?"
"What?"
"Anyone ever tell you you look good wearing a baby?"
"Considering this is my first time wearing a baby, no."
"Well, you do."
"Yeah? Thank you." He nodded, still smiling. He'd hold the kid until he turned eighteen if this was the response it would elicit from Rory. "How good?"
Logan grinned as he watched Rory roll her eyes. He continued to watch as she proceeded to speak to their sleeping son.
"Mommy really needs to get on adding that time-traveling egomaniac in the hot air balloon to her book, doesn't she Lucas?"
"Don't listen to her, Lucas. Your mom's just jealous of how good Daddy looks with his Mountain Buggy baby."
"Jealous? I'm not jealous. I look good wearing him too."
"You know there's room in the balloon for two."
"Ha."
"So...? Come on. How good? Tell me." An eyebrow arched as he attempted to coax an answer out of her.
"Your Daddy's something else, Lucas." Rory rolled her eyes. "Fine. If they haven't all exploded already, I'd say ovary-exploding good."
Logan's grin widened. He wasn't expecting a borderline dirty answer.
"Ovary exploding, Ace? That really a thing?"
"Yes. It's a thing. How do you not know it? I thought you were on top of all social media trends, memes, hashtags-"
"I guess I missed that one."
"Yeah, well. Welcome to #hotdads. I'd say you're ahead of the Ryans but behind Darryl from 'Walking Dead."
"Not as hot as Darryl? I'm hurt."
"I think you'll get over it."
Standing across from one another, they were both watching their son as he started to fuss. Turning his head back and forth, Lucas rubbed his face on Logan's shirt.
"I think Junior's upset mommy's wishing Murphy MacManus was his daddy."
Rory looked up sharply at Logan's face. "Hardly." In a lower voice she continued, "and you know it." Her lips pulled upward in a slight smile.
All of a sudden their quiet family moment was interrupted by a heavily accented male voice.
"Rory! Look at you. So slim. And so quick! And the baby. It is so nice and quiet. And I take this is your Baby Daddy?"
Logan watched as Rory frowned. Sensitive to Rory's distaste for the term, Logan hid his smile. He'd long ago decided to accept the ridiculous moniker with a sense of humor. Until they came to a more formal understanding, 'Wifey' and 'Hubby' were clearly out of the question. Rory would just have to tolerate the Urban Dictionary lingo.
The man had appeared from behind a door and now stood at the concierge desk. Logan followed Rory further inside the inn to the desk. In excellent shape and well-dressed, it was hard to pinpoint the man's age. He was very well-preserved. Once up close, Logan could tell the man was actually close to Lorelai's age.
"Hi Michel" Rory replied, the telltale grimace still adorning her face. "Michel Gerard, Logan Huntzberger. Logan, Michel has worked with my Mom and Sookie for years. Even before the Dragonfly, at the Independence Inn. Yes, Michel, as you so delightfully put it, Logan is my 'Baby Daddy'."
"Nice to meet you, Michel." His hands on Lucas's bottom, Logan assessed the situation and decided Michel did not seem the type to welcome a handshake with a hand so recently removed from a baby's bottom. He nodded a greeting but kept his hands on Lucas.
Michel, wearing a slight smile, seemed to be studying him.
"Finally," the man nodded with what Logan could only describe as vague approval. "A man who knows how to dress and combs his hair. Are those Tom Ford?"
Snickering, Logan stole a glance at Rory. She was full-on glaring at Michel now. Michel had a good eye. The slacks were Tom Ford. "Yeah, actually. They are."
"I knew it!" Michel beamed.
"Michel, you make it sound like every other guy I dated was a Yeti."
"Oh, no. No, I did not say that." Michel chuckled as he spoke. "However, I will say the crazy apple does not fall far from the tree of insanity."
"Michel!" Lorelai's partner, Sookie, emerging from a central hallway, had obviously caught Michel's comment. Logan couldn't help but notice the warning look she gave Michel. "You shouldn't say those things. Logan doesn't know you. He doesn't know you're joking. Tell Logan you're joking."
"I am not joking. He is Little Lorelai's Baby Daddy. I am sure he knows all the skeletons in the closet by name."
Unbidden, Logan laughed. At Rory's annoyed look, he shook his head, still chuckling. "Sorry, Ace. But he has a point."
"Pay him no mind, Logan. He's just hangry because he didn't get any fat free granola today."
"Because someone is being evil."
"I can't give you any, Michel. 'Cause you eat it all and then there's none left for the guests!"
"That is not true. Besides you can always make more."
"Oh sure. I can spend all my time making fat free granola! Come on down to the Dragonfly! Breakfast? How about fat-free granola?! Lunch? Still got that granola! Dinner? Oh, yeah! More granola! You know what? I'm gonna ignore you now. Cause I see someone here who had a birthday recently! Hi Lucas! Happy Belated Birthday! I'm Auntie Sookie!" Sookie leaned over to greet Lucas.
"It seems like every other day is a birthday. On Monday he'll be six weeks, but really one week corrected."
"How much does he weigh?"
"He's good. Right at eight and a quarter when he was last weighed."
"That is good! He's a feeder and a little foodie in the making!"
"The kid does enjoy his meals." Logan had intended his comment only as an innocuous observation. He certainly hadn't meant to bring attention to Rory's breasts. Noting the Rory Look directed his way, he chuckled. Rory apparently perceived it differently; his girl had a deliciously dirty mind.
"Speaking of meals," Michel rolled his eyes as he spoke. "Your school friend who is one fry short of a happy meal has already checked in. Even though it was made clear that we would not be receiving guests until four."
Rory's friend who was one fry short of a happy meal? Logan could not for the life of him figure out who Michel was talking about. Unless, of course, he meant one of the guys. Possibly Finn. Likely Finn. But it was too early for the guys. They weren't due for a few days.
Rory's gaze shifted between Michel and Sookie. "What friend? From college?"
"No. Chilton," replied Sookie.
As Logan watched, he saw Rory's eyes widen.
"Paris? Paris is here? Where is she?"
"Yes," Michel's face held a look of disgust. "She has already checked into her suite. Her, her troll, and her hipster. What kind of place does she think this is? A couple and an extra man. I sent them out. To look at birds. Or to get pedicures. I do not recall which."
Paris was into threesomes these days?
"Ace?"
"It's Terrence, their marriage counselor. Where's Mom?"
"She's doing a final sweep of the rooms with the King of Jeans."
"Who?" asked Logan.
"Luke." replied Rory.
"Of course." Logan leaned in to whisper to his son. "Hey. You getting all this?"
"Oh! Joy! Look who has returned. Maybe her broomstick got caught in a tree."
Broomstick?
Logan, like Rory, turned to glance out the front window to see who Michel was referring to.
Paris.
Before he could stop himself Logan laughed. At Rory's sharp look, he understood her unspoken command and struggled to clear his throat instead. "Excuse me."
"Michel," scolded Rory in a hissed whisper. "You shouldn't insult the guests."
"I do not insult anyone to their face. I just talk to myself." Michel directed his next words to Logan. "It is a side effect of working with Lorelai for twenty-five years. Madness is inevitable."
"Michel!" Sookie gave Michel a warning look. "Again. You shouldn't joke with Logan until he knows you better!"
"Again. I am not joking! Oh look. She has her pet troll but not the mule-wearing hipster. If there is a God, then they left him at a shoe store. Why does the world need Michel Gerard to explain patent leather and exposed foot fungus do not mix?!"
Finally, the door opened and the new arrivals could be heard as they made their way inside.
"Well, I don't have it Doyle! If you don't have it, then Terrence must so we're going to have to wait for him to catch up!"
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Michel. "They lost Zippy the Bunhead!"
"Well, the way he was complaining about his mules sliding, it could be hours before he catches up." Doyle shrugged off his jacket. Logan noted he was wearing a vintage Smithereens concert tee.
"I told him to call that weird guy's mother if he didn't feel like walking anymore."
"He gives people rides on his pig?"
"No. He has a golf cart and a pet pig. But they don't have anything to do with one another."
"Hm. That's actually pretty - "
"No, Doyle! It's not! It's not interesting! There is not a movie script in the story of a man who gives people rides in a golf cart while talking to his pet pig!"
As they watched, and listened, enthralled, the door opened once more.
"Hey, you two. You were going so fast. If I didn't know better, I would've thought you were trying to lose me!" Logan could only deduce that the bun-sporting, soul-patched man wearing Gucci backless loafers was Terrence the marriage counselor.
"Oh no, joy! There he is! Two's company. Three's a circus act!"
"Michel!" Rory scolded Michel again.
"Of course we didn't try to lose you, Terrence." Paris argued. "It's just really nice out and we felt like jogging. Hey! Look who's here! Rory! Michel! Sookie!"
Nice to see you, too, Paris.
As Paris made her way over to Rory, Logan watched as Terrence grabbed Doyle's arm and held him back. Unintentionally, he caught some of their conversation.
"When you jog, do you hear her, Doyle?"
"Yes, yes. I do hear her. I'd like to hear less of you."
"Hi guys. It's good to see you." Rory was the first to greet Paris and Doyle. "And Terrence. How are you?"
"Good, Sweetie." Terrence nodded as he and Doyle stepped closer to the group. "I hear you've been going through a late bloomer quarterlife crisis. Just want to say I'm here if you need me."
"Oh? Thanks but I'm good."
"That's not what I heard!"
Rory's face contorted in irritation. Her eyes swept over Paris before returning to Terrence.
"Just what have you heard?"
"I heard there might be a little co-dependency going on. A little mourning for the past. A little not-quite-ready-for-primetime when it comes to the future."
"What?! Paris! I thought you said you were gonna be supportive..?!"
"Yeah and most days I am. It's just..."
"Just...What?"
"He's still Dandy Gibb, Rory. Some days I forget. But never mind that. What the heck is Lucas doing here? I know he's a brand new baby and this is a brand new inn but it's still a petrie dish filled with germs. You do realize that, don't you?""
"He's just down here for a little while until his nanny gets here. Then he'll be safely tucked in his room."
"Hm. Don't come crying to me when he gets sick."
"But you're a doctor!"
"Not that kind of doctor." Done admonishing Rory, Paris turned to face the others. "Sookie. Michel. This is my estranged husband and current lover, Doyle. This is Terrence, our marriage counselor. Doyle, Terrence. Sookie is the chef here while Michel is the concierge."
"Hi everyone. Hey Logan," Doyle nodded.
"Doyle. Terrence. Paris." Logan, hands still gripping Lucas, lifted a couple of fingers to give an abbreviated wave.
"Metta." Terrence brought his hands up in the prayer position, as he bent in greeting to each person in the group. "Metta, everyone. That means loving-kindness."
"Uh, yeah! Metta right back at ya!" Sookie responded, animatedly waving her hands. "And welcome to the Dragonfly! Who's up for some sangria?!"
AN: There's no one still reading afraid we don't get an HEA, right? Thanks to Rose for the Michel inspiration. We're in Stars Hollow for a bit. Then Nantucket? Or maybe Martha's Vineyard? There's even a bit more plot. Hm. Wonder what the Huntzbergers have been up to these past weeks? Who wants Chapter 40?
11/17/2017