What You Want
Chapter 3
Luck was on Rory's side: in the hour or so she spent at her grandparents' oversized residence, not a soul emerged. All the staff appeared to have a day off, she knew her grandfather was traveling for business, and her grandmother was, serendipitously and thankfully, out. After about ten stairway traverses, the books and clothing she had brought to her grandparents the previous spring were loaded tidily into her compact car, and she felt satisfied at how neatly it all fit.
Rory returned her key to the house and wrote a quick note, leaving it on the table in the foyer. It was both a thank you for putting up with her, and an apology for leaving so abruptly, citing it was 'just right' and what she needed to do. She hoped they would understand that she had never really belonged under their roof – at least, not in the capacity she had been. Happy to have parted her recent dwelling seemingly with relative ease, Rory hurried to her car, turned over the engine, and headed towards the hospital, exhaling a tense breath she had not realized she was holding.
It had been three full days and three fairly restless nights since Jess had unceremoniously yelled at Rory. Admittedly, it had been a very odd three days. Jess could not just let the entire experience rest. He was not sure what he had expected to result in going to see Rory, but he was sure that scolding her as he had was not in the plan. He only wanted to thank her and share his book. She had unknowingly played a huge role in its creation, and he felt an inexplicable need to express that to her. But he had scolded her instead. That evening, driving back toward Philly, he thought he had been helpful; but three days of ceaseless agonizing over the whole situation and here he was, doubting himself.
Damn her. He had spent the greater part of three years learning not to doubt himself and his judgment. Finally, he had become accountable to himself, and even to others. Though he lacked a pompous swagger to show for it, he was beginning to feel proud of who he was, and be happy with that person. Damn Rory for effortlessly and most likely, unintentionally, reminding him of his confused and slightly tormented eighteen-year-old self.
As he finished placing a stack of slim volumes on the now dust-free mahogany shelf, Jess sighed. Cleaning the place had been an awfully poor distraction. Instead of clearing his mind, it was swimming with thoughts of what Rory was doing right now. Where was she? Who was with her? Who was getting to rest their eyes upon that insanely beautiful face? What was she wearing? Oh, god…
"Chris!" Jess gave an exasperated shout from his hunched-over position. "I need a new chore. Please. Preferably one requiring mental faculties beyond that of a chimp." Chris just grinned over at him while Jess fidgeted. "What?" Jess snapped.
In response, Chris shook his head slowly. "Man, go read a book or something. It's your day off. I don't care what you do, just get the hell away from here for a while." Chris, sitting at the computer operating the press, gestured sweepingly in the direction of the front door, hinting at all the possibilities outside it.
"I can't."
"That doesn't sound like you…" Chris regarded him and his joking tone turned neutral. "Honestly, what's going on with you? You've been, I don't know, all tense. For days." Chris had not thought much of Jess's behavior until today. It wasn't that Jess wasn't usually helpful. Rather, Jess wasn't usually so surly and dejected while being a help.
"Nothing," Jess sighed, again, while pulling a hand through his unkempt hair. "I saw an old friend when I was in Hartford," he grimaced, remembering Rory's initial description of him to Logan. "And I don't know," he paused, not sure how much, or even what, to say. He shook his head, looking back to Chris. "I just keep thinking about it. Repeatedly. Incessantly. It's getting really annoying."
"What was so noteworthy about it?"
Jess did not answer immediately. He was having difficulty providing a response beyond the one Chris would not understand, which was one word: Rory. Rory, in and of herself, was noteworthy. It was as if the image of her face had been burned to the insides of his eyelids, and because she was nice to look at, there was not a whole lot of room for complaint. The way he felt watching the real Rory reemerge had also been quite remarkable. It reminded him of the brief moments by the Inn at Sookie's wedding, when she had boldly kissed him. For just a heavenly fraction of time, he felt like he was floating. It was fleeting, of course. Reality returned with jarring purpose, and like with his current predicament, she was gone, but he could not stop thinking about her.
Matthew strolled in then, loquacious as ever, with several people in tow, breaking Jess's reverie. Jess turned his attention back toward Chris, "drink at the pub, later?" he asked. It was inevitable. He needed to talk about this at some point, as it was clearly bigger than him. So instead of waiting for it to eat away at him entirely, he decided to be responsibly proactive. He had been "proactive" when it came to Rory once, and she had crushed him with her fervent "no." Hindsight really was twenty-twenty. That was a reckless attempt at being proactive, and not something he intended to repeat.
Chris swiveled around to the computer screen. "This should be done around seven."
Jess nodded and stood up, tossing a rag in a low bin. He gave a half-wave at Chris before sidestepping the group at the door, and walking into the chill, Philadelphia afternoon.
It was Sunday evening. Rory was simultaneously exhilarated and exhausted. She had done two and a half straight days of shifts, where ever she could get in. Now, her mandated community service was officially completed. It was a great feeling – another check on her list. But all of the muscles she was capable of naming, and then some, were whimpering in defeat. She shuffled inside Lane's apartment and collapsed on the couch next to Brian.
"Hey, Rory!"
"Hmmm," was all she could manage in response. Her eyes were closed serenely, and of their own accord.
"Wow, you look…"
"Mm, hmm." She knew. She did not need reminding. She breathed in, low and deep, and asked slowly, "What's going on here?"
"Gil just left, and Lane and Zach are picking up some pizza," he reported happily.
She perked up a bit. "Oh, bless them." Rory sighed. "Now, if only there were some coffee involved, we would be in business."
Brian chuckled. "I can't offer you coffee, but how about a little VH1?" His eyebrows were raised and the remote was directed at the muted television. "They're running some special for the 'Confessions on a Dance Floor' album, which is kind of a bummer, but it involves reliving all her best moments."
Rory smiled. "Sure." Brian settled in and the audio came to life. "Madge. What a role model…" and they settled into a content viewership, with Rory's eyes popping open every few minutes, then slowly slipping shut. Her nodding-off was interrupted only for a couple slices of pizza, after which she passed out completely. She did not recall being woken by Lane and Brian who helped convert her from the odd sitting-sleeping position she had established, into one where she was prone like a normal sleeping person.
Rory awoke Monday morning to the bustle of Lane's apartment. She had already become accustomed to the sounds – Brian's moderate, nasal snore, the rustle and drag of Zach's slippers early in the morning, the slow creak of their aged cupboards, and Lane's gentle, unconscious drumming on any and all free surfaces. She stretched and grabbed her bag over the arm of the couch, pulling her laptop out and booting it up.
Five minutes later, she had a cup of coffee in her hand, and was skimming through her inbox. She opened a number of disappointing emails before one made her yelp, shocking Lane and Zach from their breakfasts at the bar.
"What? What is it?" Lane asked, concerned.
It was quickly clear to them that it Rory's wordless reply was not cause for concern. After a minute of reading, she responded. "They want me back!"
"Who?" Unreasonably and inexplicably, the first thought to cross Lane's mind was of Jess.
"The Stamford Eagle Gazette! I begged and pleaded – groveled, really – with the editor and hiring manager there, and they're willing to have me there. I can't believe it!" Rory's eyes sped across the screen, and she beamed up Zach and Lane. Lane ran over to Rory, hugged her tight, and congratulated her.
"Kudos, Rory. I guess that means you're going to be leaving us," Zach alluded.
"Zach!" Lane shrieked at him, mostly in jest. "Chill." He made a 'calm-down' gesture and returned to his food. "Rory! This is great news. When do you get to start? What will you do? Is it what you were doing before?"
Rory grinned uncontrollably. "I don't think it will be my old job, per se. But I don't exactly care right now."
"Would it be corny if I told you I'm proud of you?" Zach rolled his eyes and poured milk over his second bowl of cereal. Rory turned solemn.
"A little," she responded, in mock seriousness. Then her smile broke again. "But I'm proud of you, too!"
They hugged again, like little girls. Lane swatted at her. "No, you're prettier!"
"No, you!" Rory laughed.
Zach stalked into Lane's bedroom, muttering to himself the entire way.
"Well, now that he's out of our hair…" Rory shook her head at Lane. "What happens next?"
Rory pondered Lane's question. This felt too good to be real. With a lot of help, she was finding her way back to herself. Indeed, the past few days had been a blur. But she no longer felt like she was drowning or suffocating. Her head was above water, and she was swimming with purpose.
"It's time to go home." Rory thought Lane might have another squeal in her, but she just beamed at her, like she knew this would happen all along.
"I start at Luke's in a half hour. Want to come with me?"
Rory thought that just might be perfect. "Yes, please!" She figured Lorelai would be there, and she could hardly wait to tell her the good news. As she typed out a response to the Gazette, she realized she was gradually and appropriately reshaping her life. Sure, she had made a big mess out of things and turned into a person she did not quite recognize, but knowing she was capable of climbing back out the rabbit hole gave her a surprising surge of self-confidence.
Luke looked up when the diner door opened. He was clearing a table in his typical flannel and backwards baseball cap. "Lane. Good – could you work your magic with Caesar?" Luke pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the kitchen, leaned in a bit, and spoke out the side of his mouth. "He's freaking out over something or other, and all I'm hearing is some angry muttering. You're good with calming him."
"I'm on it," she responded, hurrying to the kitchen.
Rory took a breath and smiled, content. The lighting, the smell of delicious food, the general feel of the place – it was all so familiar and safe. "Rory," Luke finally noticed her, and stalled in wiping down a table. "How're….you?"
Luke was never good at these sorts of situations. Hell, it was a new one for Rory, too. "I'm really, really good," she said, with genuine honesty. "How are you, Luke?"
He resumed his cleaning. "Same old, same old. People come in hungry, and I feed 'em. Uh," he searched for something to say. "How are the grandparents?"
Rory nodded, hands in her pockets. "Good, I presume. Um, think I could get some coffee?"
Luke jumped to. "Sure thing. For here, or to go?"
Rory settled comfortably on a stool. "For here, please."
Luke smiled at her as he placed a mug the size of a soup tureen on the counter and filled it. "It's good to have you back, Rory."
"It's good to be back," she said, softly, cradling the mug.
"All better, Luke!" Lane appeared from the kitchen, tying an apron around herself before grabbing an order pad and getting to work.
"Thank you, Lane," Luke sounded truly grateful. "Caesar can be a pain when he's unhappy," Luke said quietly to Rory.
She shuddered. "Oh, I know. We've had those pancakes." Luke nodded knowingly. "Um, Luke?"
"Hmm?" He was a bit distracted, cashing in a tab at the register.
"Has my mom been in yet?"
Luke looked over at her, expressionless. "No. Not yet. Though, I don't know for sure if she will be. Some mornings she just goes straight to the inn."
"Oh, okay." Rory sipped on her coffee. She could go to The Dragonfly. No problem. The fact that her mom might not come in did not worry Rory. 'Goodness, this coffee tastes good,' she thought. She continued sipping. There was one more thing she felt she needed to do, now that she was at the diner. "Um, Luke?" she repeated.
"Yeah?"
"Could I…I mean, do you…" Rory felt like a bit of a moron. 'Just say it, you know you want to,' she thought. Luke waited, patiently. Rory pulled in a fresh breath of air. "Do you happen to have Jess's number?"
That was definitely not was Luke was expecting. "Uh, yeah," he responded, slowly, still a little dumbfounded. As his thinking sped up, he recalled his most recent conversation with Jess. It had been about a month ago, and it took Jess all of thirty seconds before Luke revealed to him where Rory was. And that was it. They moved on to other topics, and Luke hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, it seemed curious to him, but he didn't feel comfortable asking.
Rory didn't really want to ask Luke for Jess's number directly, but it did not seem to be registering that she was more than curious if Luke was in possession of the number. When the silence continued, she knew she had to ask. "Do you think I could get it from you?" she elaborated, as politely and innocently as ever.
"Oh," Luke thought for a moment. He wasn't sure he liked where this could be going. It was Rory. And Jess. And, oh, hell. Who was he to play god? "Sure. Would you like it now?" He did not wait for a response as he set the coffee pot on its holder and said, "You know, I'll just go grab it for you," and disappeared behind the floral curtain than led to his apartment.
Rory smiled contentedly and continued sipping her coffee. Luke appeared just a couple minutes later with a small, torn scrap of paper, simply adorned with ten numbers, and set it down in front of her. Rory noted how Luke had separated the digits into three groups, with no dashes, and she quickly committed them to memory. She was about to pick up the slip of paper and tuck it safely away when her mother's voice completely stilled her.
"Rory?" Lorelai's voice was entirely stunned.
Rory turned to see her. One look at each other, and they knew. Lorelai realized the importance of Rory sitting here at the diner. She literally felt her heart clench, and in a very good way. There was Rory, standing willfully in front of her. Lorelai looked her up and down and eyed her suspiciously, and then pointed suddenly as she said, "you're trying out for American Idol?"
"Mom!" Rory shook her head at her silliness, even now, in what should have been a very dignified reunion. Leave it to Lorelai to keep the ludicrous commentary rolling.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Is it SYTYCD?"
"So You Think You Can Dance? Really?" Rory asked, incredulously.
"What? You've got a better chance there than with American Idol."
"Yes, you're right. Which is really saying something terrible about my voice. What can I say? I only got your eyes and your eating habits and your divine beauty, but not your raw talent behind a microphone." Rory rolled her eyes slightly, but was smiling, wholeheartedly.
"RORY!" Lorelai tackled her, and the two would have collapsed if it weren't for the counter behind them. "You're back!"
"Air!" Rory gasped.
"Sorry!" Lorelai pulled back to examine her and repeated, "You're back."
Rory bit her lip, smiling. All she could manage as she nodded was, "I'm back."
"Really?"
"Want to call Yale and ask them yourself?"
Lorelai gave an excited squeal. "You're really back! Coffee! On the house!"
"Excuse me?" Luke stared at her.
"Luke," Lorelai started, as if speaking to a child. "This is Rory," Lorelai said, presenting her by gesturing show-like with both hands. "It's been months, Luke. We must celebrate."
"So, go celebrate. Stop trying to give away my coffee."
Lorelai put on her best pout face. "Luuuukkkeee," she whined, with the slightest hint of a threat behind it. "Give the people coffee, and I'll thank you later."
"Oh, gross," Rory shook her head.
"Rory, please, I'm working here," Lorelai said, turning back to Luke.
He stared for a minute before caving. "Fine, coffee on the house," Luke said, defeated. He nodded at Lane, who started pouring for the happy audience.
"Thanks, Lorelai," Kirk said, talking over the loud babble that had erupted once the moment broke. "I love a free anything. The day the phone book comes is my favorite. Rory," he gave her a nod. "Good to have you back."
"Thanks, Kirk," Rory said. "It's good to be here." It was going to be a long, repetitive day, but she didn't particularly mind.
"I'm not working today. Officially, forever. I deem today, Rory Gilmore Rebirth Day," Lorelai took a break to swallow a gulp of coffee.
"Well, technically, my supposed rebirth was a few days ago."
"What? When? Why am I only finding out now?" Lorelai feigned affronted very well.
Rory grabbed the napkin on the countertop and got off her stool. "Come on, I'll tell you all about it. Let's go see Michel and Sookie. Oh, and Jackson. And the babies! And Miss Patty, and Babette." Rory looked seriously at Lorelai. "We have a lot to do, come now. See you all later!"
"Yes, we do! Bye, everyone!" Lorelai gave the customers in the diner a regal wave before following her daughter out the door. Most people responded, happy to see the two together again. Lorelai was beside herself with excitement. Rory was back!