No one ever asks to be cheated on.
The following week passed slowly. Logan started at work and Rory spent her days alone. She mostly found herself exploring Hartford, walking around its streets and parks and getting to know the city. It had been the town she had been born in and gone to school to for three years yet she still felt like a visitor, a constant stranger. She went to Stars Hollow again with Lorelai for lunch and Jess was there behind the counter. He didn't come over to greet them but he smiled and gave Rory a wave. Rory smiled back, a trace of blush on her cheeks, but before she could return the gesture Lorelai would ask about the menu and Jess looked away. Rory had saved his number into her phone but hadn't called it yet – she had wanted to but had no real reason to call. She missed the days where she could call just to talk so settled for smiling at Jess across the room in what she hoped was a friendly manner.
Rory was anticipating and dreading the weekend at the same time. She was looking forward to Saturday because Paris was paying her visit yet the evening involved a dinner at Logan's mother's house, a visit Rory would sooner step over hot coals than attend. She and Shira Huntzberger had never made friends and retained a cool politeness, both knowing that Shira had never forgiven Rory for marrying her son. Still, Rory thought resignedly, as she applied her makeup, at least she had Paris to talk to first. Her friend was never scant when it came to witty remarks to use.
Rory met Paris in town. She was there to see her parents, who had managed to make an agreement with the US Embassy and were allowed back in the states, and were renting a small property in Hartford.
"Mom's still in shock that there's only one bathroom," Paris said, stirring her coffee and looking pristine in her mint shirt and pants. "She'd never have survived in prison."
Rory laughed and sipped her cappuccino and listened to her friend talk about the cancer research she'd been exploring and how Doyle was enjoying his new job on the paper.
"We're both getting home so late it's hard to find enough time for sleep, let alone sex," she said, shrugging. "Guess you don't have that problem."
"I guess," Rory said awkwardly. She didn't want to discuss her sex life and took a large gulp of coffee. Paris looked at her curiously.
"What about you, anyway?"
"What about me?"
"What have you been doing since you got back? What were you doing in California?"
"There isn't a lot to tell," Rory shrugged. "We've been busy moving."
"Right, but you've moved now. What about before then? You never told me what you did out in California."
"I did," Rory retorted and Paris said in an exasperated way,
"You told me how you would go for walks. What about work? Don't you still want to work on a paper? Have you looked for any out here yet?"
"No," Rory said uncomfortably. "It's been hard,, I guess, since I lost my job. It's kind of nice just being at home, having more time."
Paris looked at and then said in a cool, clear voice,
"Bullshit."
Rory coughed on her coffee and spluttered,
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. This Happy Housewife act – it's bullshit."
Rory stared at her in disbelief and said weakly,
"It's not."
"It is for you. What is this? All you've been doing lately is find new routes to the beach, a waste of time in itself seeing how easily you burn, Caspar."
"I'm sorry not all of us can save the world in a science lab," Rory snapped, her head reeling. Paris rolled her eyes.
"Now the martyr act."
"I am not being a martyr!"
"I'm just asking what the hell is going on," Paris said, leaning forward. "I saw you as competition in school. I gave you the worst article ever and you had the teacher bowing at your feet over what you wrote. You got into Harvard and Yale and then you ousted me over being editor –"
"I did not oust you –"
"Whatever. Point is, you were a worthy rival and now you're scouring the web for cookie recipes."
"I am not!"
Rory glared at her friend, her heart pounding as Paris demanded,
"What gives? There's got to be a reason for this. Huntzberger didn't knock you up, did he?"
"God, no!"
Rory stared down at her cup. She couldn't look at Paris's piercing eyes any longer but her head snapped up as Paris said slowly,
"This is like last time."
"What?"
"When you decided to take time off Yale – it's the same."
"What are you talking about?" Rory asked, her hands quivering. "That was years ago."
"Doesn't stop it being the same. Something's going on with you and you're giving up."
"I am not giving up," Rory said furiously. "The economy is terrible."
"I know you're not trying."
"That's not true!" Rory said quickly but she didn't have an answer when Paris asked knowingly,
"How many jobs have you applied for this week? This month? This year?"
"Stop it!"
"I'll stop it when you do something about it!" Paris snapped, bringing her coffee cup down on the table with a loud sound. Rory stared down at it and then looked back up as she heard Paris said quietly,
"I knew this would happen."
"You knew what would happen?" Rory asked, already knowing what her friend was going to say.
"Marrying Huntzberger, going off to the land of avocado trees – I knew he would do this to you."
"Do what to me?" Rory demanded, her voice cracking. "I have a mind of my own."
"He's got something over you!" Paris exclaimed. "I don't know why you keep going back to him but you do! It doesn't matter what stupid thing he does, he just grins at you and you let it go, you let everything go with him, including your brain!"
"He's my husband," Rory said stubbornly. "I'm not 'going back to him', I'm married to him, and he's had a stable job ever since we've lived in California!"
"And you've been weak around him years before that!"
Rory and Paris glared at each other. Rory slowly let go of the cup she'd been gripping and said coldly,
"You never wanted me to marry him."
Paris shrugged, not trying to defend herself as Lane or her mother would.
"I wasn't crazy about it," she said truthfully. "But you know what I thought? I thought since you fixed all your crap, went back to Yale and got a job maybe I shouldn't worry. You were going to California, not a cornfield in Iowa. There's papers out West, I told myself. Rory can still figure it out. Guess I was an idiot."
Rory stared at her, her ears ringing. She wanted to retort, refute all her friend's points but she couldn't.
"I have to go to my mother-in-law's tonight," she said angrily. "And I think I'm going to get a warmer reception there than right now."
"Of course you will," Paris said coldly. "All your mother-in-law cares about is that you keep sleeping with her son."
Rory stood up, scraping back her chair.
"Thanks for coffee," she said, trying not to let her voice waver. "And not holding back."
"Someone needs to say it, Rory!" Paris snapped, not pretending to be sorry. "Taking some time, enjoying being home – it's bullshit! You look more unhappy than the time Doyle wasn't printing your articles! You're just pretending like you always do when things get screwed up!"
"I'm not pretending," Rory said instantly and Paris stared at her, looking concerned.
"Something's wrong here, Rory. You need a shrink or something."
"Oh, I need a shrink?" Rory shouted, not caring that everyone in the room was staring at her. "You Paris Geller, are talking to me about mental health?"
She turned and stormed out, ignoring Paris's call of,
"I still have Terrence's number – he did some time in prison but he's still an excellent life coach!"
Rory was still furious by the time she got home. Logan was out somewhere and for once she was glad, slamming her purse down on the counter and kicking her shoes off. She marched into the bedroom and caught sight of herself in the mirror, her face red and her hair wild, a sharp contrast to the muted colours of her flowered skirt and blue silk blouse. Logan came home just as she was ripping them off and changing into a T-shirt and jeans.
"Hey, Ace!" he exclaimed, picking up the clothes she had piled on the floor. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Rory snapped. "I'm just not comfortable in that skirt."
"Whatever you say, Ace," Logan said, clearly trying not to laugh. "But do you have to throw it on the floor? It lives on a hanger."
"Quit patronising me," Rory said furiously. "And stop calling me Ace!"
Logan raised his eyebrows.
"Wow, what happened to you today?"
"Nothing," Rory sad automatically, leaving the bedroom and going to get a glass of water. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay," Logan said quietly. "How was Paris?"
"Fine," Rory snarled. "Very honest."
Logan frowned but didn't say anything. Rory sat on the sofa, closing her eyes and then said,
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"Do we have to go to your mom's tonight?"
"Are you serious?" Logan laughed, going and sitting next to her. "I think the Apocalypse would be the only excuse we could use and even then I doubt it would stop it."
"Right," Rory said quietly. She shut her eyes, feeling tired and Logan said gently,
"Rory?"
"Yeah?" she said softly, opening her eyes and smiling at her husband.
"Will you go get me a beer?" Logan asked brightly. "The game's about to start."
"Oh," Rory said dully. "Sure."
Logan patted her bottom as she got up and said cheerfully,
"I knew there was a reason I married you!"
They drove over to the Huntzbergers' early that evening. The house was as huge as Rory remembered and she swallowed the anxiety she could taste in her throat. She'd been hoping not to have to go back until Christmas, more than six months away.
"Here he is!" Shira Huntzberger cried as they got out of the car, kissing her son on both cheeks as he met her on the path. "Logan's home!"
"Mom, please," Logan said, sounding embarrassed and pleased at the same time. Shira let him go and then looked at Rory, hesitating and kissing her cheeks as well, in a much more formal manner.
"Rory," she said, nodding. Rory smiled and said,
"Hi."
At their wedding Shira had told Rory expressly that she could call her by her first name but Rory couldn't bring herself to. It seemed rude to call her Mrs Huntzberger, however, so Rory simply avoided using her name at all. She was thankful that she hadn't been asked to call her Mom.
"Where is everyone?" Logan asked as his mother pulled him inside. "Is Honor here?"
"Of course she is, and she has news!"
"News?" Logan exclaimed, badgering and cajoling his mother all through the hall, who laughed and refused to say a word. Rory followed them to the living room, grand and decadent as ever, before sitting on the fanciful couch beside her husband, where Honor and her husband Josh were sitting opposite. Mitchum had to work that night, they were told, and Elias had died a few years ago. It was one of the few occasions where Rory had seen Logan cry.
"Hey, sis," Logan said warmly, hugging Honor and kissing her cheek, shaking Josh's hand. "Mother tells me you have news. What's the secret?"
"Well," Honor said nervously. "Now everyone's here – Dad's knows already – I guess I should tell you. Josh and I are having a baby!"
Everyone exclaimed joyfully, going to hug and congratulate her, and Shira announced,
"And in support of Honor, there won't be any alcohol tonight."
"You're kidding," Logan said, his smile instantly fading and Honor said,
"I told her she didn't have to."
"Nonsense, it's not fair," Shira said and, leaning over, Honor whispered to Rory,
"I miss smoking a lot more!"
Rory smiled weakly but felt her heart drop. She had been counting on a martini or three to get her through the dinner and barely noticed Shira's admonishment of,
"Logan, you're driving!"
Dinner was slow and painful. Shira asked what Rory was doing right now, a cutting tone to her questions, and when Rory said,
"I'm hoping to start back at a paper soon," she sighed and said snidely,
"You career women. What is it with women wanting to work nowadays?"
"Mom," Logan said in a warning voice. "Rory's great at what she does."
"Her priorities should be different," Shira said and, smiling at Rory in a nauseating way, she added,
"Rory knows what I mean. She has her husband to look after now."
Rory stared at her, glancing at Logan for back-up, but he instead just laughed and said,
"I guess that's true."
"Does she look after you?" Shira asked, grinning at Logan, who nodded.
"She always gets me beers."
"Well, there's something," Shira said and, catching sight of her daughter-in-law's expression, added,
"Oh, now don't be offended, Rory. It's all good training for when you're a mother."
"When I'm what?" Rory asked dumbly and Shira said,
"It has to happen sooner or later – sooner, I hope. Perhaps you can ask Honor for tips, she'll be an expert soon enough!"
"Mom," Honor said, sounding embarrassed. "Stop."
"Don't be modest, Honor," Shira said fondly. "I'm glad one of my children is giving me grandchildren, at least!"
"So no pressure, Honor," Logan joked and they all laughed. "Too bad Grandpa can't meet him or her."
"Are you kidding? He hated kids."
Talk dissolved into when the baby was due, if it would be a boy or girl and Rory tuned out into stunned silence, jumping when Logan asked her to pass the potatoes. She did so silently and thought that Mitchum would be the only thing that could make dinner worse, deciding that someone up above had known him coming would be more than Rory could take. She remained silent all through the rest of dinner, and the soda they drank afterwards, and spoke only when they got back and Logan demanded,
"What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" Rory exclaimed, turning to see him, her blue dress whirling around her legs. "What's wrong with you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Laughing about how I'm a good little wife who brings you beer?"
"That was a joke," Logan protested, impervious to Rory's fury. "She knows I work hard –"
"And how I don't do anything?" Rory snapped, Paris's words uneasily fresh in her mind. "That all I should do is sit and home and make babies?"
"You can't take a joke," Logan protested as Rory threw her purse down. "And hey, my sister doesn't work and she's expecting a baby, what do you think about her?"
"I think Honor wants to do that," Rory said, trying to make her voice even. "And I respect that but it's not what I want to do, right now!"
"No one said you had to," Logan said and Rory retorted,
"Your mother seems to think it's the only thing I should be doing and you laughed and agreed!"
"She wants grandkids," Logan said, folding his arms. "What's wrong with that?"
"God," Rory said angrily. "What with your mom and my grandmother I feel like we're being ordered to go and copulate!"
"Is that such a bad thing?" Logan grinned, taking Rory's arm. She shook it off, shouting,
"Stop!"
"Would you just calm down?" Logan laughed and Rory yelled,
"I don't feel like calming down!"
"What's gotten into you?" Logan asked, his jovial tone turning to annoyance. "Are you getting your period or something?"
"If I bled every time you annoyed me, I'd be anaemic," Rory said cuttingly. She picked up her purse, threw open the door and stormed down the stairs. Logan followed her and snapped,
"Where the hell are you going?"
"Out," Rory said dangerously. "Don't you dare follow me."
"Fine!" Logan bellowed as Rory descended down the last few steps. "Go crying to your mommy!"
"I could say the same to you!" Rory shouted. She turned and marched out of the building, slamming the door shut and locking herself in her car, glad she had got it at the time. She got her phone out of her purse, not looking to see if Logan had followed, and dialled a number with shaking fingers. It clicked in answer and Rory said desperately,
"Hi, it's me. Can I come see you? I'm sorry to call like this but I really need to talk. Thanks."
She hung up the phone, started the car and drove out into the night.