Chapter 214
Meanwhile, in New York, a first-time mother was having a hell of a time handling her travel plans.
"No, the 2 PM," Paris said on the phone, rolling her eyes as she desperately tried to rock Simone back to sleep, "The 2 PM from New York to Hartford. One seat, but I need room for a stroller. Online it said to call. Fine, I'll hold," Paris said defeated, as the tone changed to hold music and Simone chose that particular moment to let up on crying.
She'd been trying to book her travel arrangements for over an hour. An hour she didn't have, of course, given that she was trying to breastfeed, keep herself healthy, safe and sane, take pretty much solitary care of her newborn daughter, and, of course, being Paris, getting caught up in some of the work she was about to restart.
Paris wasn't going back to work right away, and certainly not officially. But especially given that she'd see the Truncheon guys at the wedding, she wanted to at least give some thought to the ideas they'd had for how best to integrate with her class, what they wanted to present to the class when they visited, and what they were recommending for her syllabus. Matt had sent over some new ideas just yesterday, being clear in his note that he wasn't expecting a response, but just wanted to have things over to her for whenever she was ready. And, being Paris, she couldn't help but look. And once she looked, she couldn't help but get absorbed and have ideas. She was loving being with Simone, caring for her, and spending her time ensconced in the bliss of being a new mom. But Paris was finding that she still loved and enjoyed her intellectual pursuits, and that she was excited to continue pursuing her passions while being a great mom to Simone. Of course, balancing all of that would probably be much easier with a little help and support. She certainly wasn't getting any of that from Doyle, who was taking advantage of his work's social scene to totally new levels. He was now barely ever home, he said hi to Simone once a day and was reticent to hold her even then, and was sleeping in the guest room, all purportedly to "get sleep for work" and "focus on networking, [Paris] had said his career was important and he should care about it more". But it didn't take a genius to see that Doyle was avoiding their family life. The closest he and Paris had come to discussing it had happened a few days ago, when Paris had been rocking Simone to sleep. Paris had set her down, still in the hazy, post-cuddle bliss, and walked into the living room to find Doyle. She sat down with him and asked about his day. He told her. After a long pause, she asked why he didn't ask about hers. He said he didn't know what they'd have to talk about anymore. It seemed like a completely absurd statement to Paris, but she'd stayed calm, saying that she'd still have things to talk about while staying home with Simone, and that of course Simone would be a topic of common interest. Doyle had stared at her blankly and after a moment said quietly, "I don't feel like I know who you are anymore." And he'd gone to bed.
Well. Paris had wished to God Rory had been there for that. Then she might've understood why Paris had been avoiding those types of conversations for the time being. It was a whole lot to ask of anyone to have a conversation like that, keep themselves calm and regulated, and manage things appropriately. It was even more to ask someone to do that when they were exhausted, overworked, overwhelmed and sleep deprived, like Paris was right now. And to Paris- it was worst of all to ask someone to take time and energy away from the thing giving them so much joy, time away from short moments of bliss that weren't going to last forever, to deal with something so unpleasant and convoluted.
It did bother Paris a great deal that Doyle didn't seem interested in his daughter. Paris knew she'd be more than enough for Simone, but she just couldn't fathom how anyone wouldn't be totally enamored with her. Particularly if they were lucky enough to be her parent. It boggled Paris' generally-unboggleable mind. Paris woke up every day (and admittedly, every night, and from every nap- she was very sleep deprived, no doubt about it) blissed out to share her life with Simone, to see her, hold her, get to spend her days with her. She couldn't believe that Doyle lived in the same house, with the same daughter, and didn't seem to give the tiniest semblance of a shit.
But at least that meant Paris got to enjoy her daughter without any intrusions. She got to be the one to do everything- feed her, clothe her, change her, put her to sleep, read to her. Doyle did quite literally none of those things. He woke up in the morning, leaving for work earlier than he ever had before, in spite of their condo being much closer to his office than hers, and in spite of her knowing he never made it to the office before 9, ever. She didn't suspect he was doing anything nefarious- in fact, she was pretty sure he just left the house early and went and sat at a coffeeshop for a couple hours before going into work at a leisurely pace, taking a long lunch, and then doing drinks and dinner with his coworkers. They hadn't really had a family meal since Paris had brought Simone home from the hospital. Even when he'd been home once or twice, they'd ordered delivery or takeout and he'd said he needed to work while he ate, taking his food to the guest room or the office. She didn't even bother trying to press him on it- at least when they were apart, things were pleasant and Paris could focus on what mattered- Simone.
Paris was looking forward to taking Simone to the wedding, and to going herself. Largely because she felt good about it. She felt ready to take Simone out into the world and do things with her, she wanted Lorelai and Rory and Lane and Hannah and everyone else to meet Simone, and of course, Paris wanted to see everyone herself too. She was in a delirious little bubble with Simone, but it was still lonely to become a parent and not really have any support system around her, especially given that over the last several months she'd become more accustomed to having a social life, social contact, friends.
And of course, there was Matt. The only thing other than Simone making Paris feel less lonely. He'd seemed cautious about texting her at first, but by now, they were texting in a nearly continous stream almost all the time. They'd quickly discovered that they were both keeping strange hours, Paris because of Simone and Matt because of being bogged down with tons of work, and so it wasn't uncommon for Paris to find herself texting Matt at six in the morning just as often as she did at three in the afternoon. They'd really only been texting, with the exception of a brief phone call Paris had had with Matt, Chris and Jess about work (at her own insistence, for ten minutes only, outlining the plan to resume their work together after the wedding). But between Paris and Matt, the texting had become a much different thing than it had originally been. It was still innocent in content, technically, but it was constant and continuous. When there was a delay, Paris felt anxious- like she didn't want to lose the contact. She didn't know what to make of it. She knew perfectly well that Matt was bringing Jane to the wedding, and that she herself was married, regardless of how that looked to be going right now. She certainly wasn't seeking anything out. But this friendship had grown organically and was growing stronger, and Paris had stopped fighting it in any sense. Now she relished it, felt comforted and supported by it, and enriched. Some people had warned Paris about baby brain, and this idea that when her mental space was taken up with the mundane details of caring for a newborn, she would lose her intellectual edge. She didn't totally buy that. But given the current lack of intellectual stimulation compared to when Paris' life was a little more varied, sharing witty repartee with someone else who could hold their own was refreshing, invigorating, and it was keeping her on her toes. Which honestly just served to make Paris feel good. And right now, Paris wanted to feel good. She wanted to be happy and care for her daughter and have meaningful, supportive, joyful relationships. And doing so was worth spending an hour and a half on the phone with Amtrak while dealing with a crying baby, if that's what it would take.
