Thanks for the feedback!
The rest of the week passed quickly and Rory said nothing more about her appointment. On Friday they packed to go, Logan irritable about getting in early for the gate.
"You know, we could have just driven," Rory said, running out of patience. "It's only in Massachusetts!"
"This way is quicker," Logan replied. "We don't have to face any traffic and we don't have to take the ferry. Takes hours off the trip."
"Not really, we have to get to the airport and –"
"Rory, I'd rather sit comfortably and relax with someone bringing drinks to me," Logan snapped. "It's my money and I chose to fly."
"It's our money!"
"I'm the one earning it," Logan said bluntly. "Look, you'll know I'm right once we're up in the air and relaxing. Who'd choose traffic in summer over that?"
Rory shrugged and fell silent. Logan slung his bag over his shoulder.
"I'll go start the car. Coming?"
"Just need to get my book."
Rory waited for him to leave and then hurried over to the cabinet. She had put the writing paper in there after Logan had taken it and she quickly slipped it into her purse. She hesitated, grabbed the novel she was trying to read and jumped as Logan shouted,
"Ace, let's go!"
They were on Nantucket a few hours later. Logan unlocked the door to the beach house and grinned, kissing Rory.
"It's like we've never been away."
Rory didn't know about that. She and Logan had only vacationed there once since their marriage and that was almost a year ago. She walked slowly into the house, running her hand across the surfaces of the wooden bookcase and fabric of the couch. It somehow looked different every time they came though nothing ever changed. It was waiting for them and nobody else and Rory felt a little sad at the thought of it locked up for so many months of the year.
"Ace?"
Rory jumped.
"Sorry."
"What do you want to do?" Logan asked, slinging their bags down near Rory's feet. "Hit the beach?"
"I think we should unpack."
"Right now? We just got here."
"Exactly, it gets it out of the way. We'll be tired later and end up living out of a suitcase for two weeks."
Logan looked at her and started laughing.
"What?" Rory snapped.
"You're so proper."
Rory didn't reply but she picked up the bags, took them into the bedroom and was irritably reminded of her old nickname Mary. She unpacked her bag in silence.
Logan unpacked beside her in a much more haphazard manner. He threw clothes into the drawers without bothering to fold them and fell onto the bed on his back, making it shake. He grinned at Rory who was folding the last of her dresses.
"You done yet?"
"Almost?"
"Good, come down here with me."
Rory smiled but didn't do so. Instead she put away the last of her clothes and slid the suitcase under the bed. Logan sat up and took her arm.
"Logan –"
"What is it?" he asked, kissing her wrist. "We haven't been back here for a while. We haven't used this bed for a while."
"Logan, I'm not in the mood," Rory said, retrieving her hand. "I'm tired."
"We don't have to go wild."
Rory sighed and shook her head.
"I'm getting a headache."
Logan lay back down, looking disappointed.
"Okay. Never mind."
"It's not – Logan, I'm tired from the journey. I need some air. Could we just go for a walk or something?"
"I don't want to go for a walk."
He looked at his wife, almost glaring but Rory didn't apologise.
"Fine. I'll go by myself."
Rory waited but Logan didn't say anything so she picked up the keys, stuck them in her pocket and walked out.
It felt good being by the ocean again and Rory closed her eyes, taking in deep lungfuls of air. She walked along the stretch of sand and was surprised that there weren't any families. Perhaps it was school or the fact that it was early evening but Rory had the beach to herself. She thought about her appointment, what the doctor had said and what Jess had said. Rory wondered what he was doing now. She pictured him working, placing books on a shelf and smiled. Thoughts turned to that of her kiss and Rory's smile faded. She shook the image from her mind and stepped up the pace. Rory walked and walked until her legs began to tire and stopped at the sudden pinkish tint in the sky. She looked down at her watch, which she always wore on vacation, and stared at the time. She'd been gone for nearly two hours and Rory instantly turned around and ran back, almost tripping in the mounds of sand, and hoping Logan wouldn't be mad.
"Hey!" Rory called, panting as she unlocked the front door and burst into the beach house. "I'm sorry, I totally lost track of time and forgot to pick something up for dinner!"
There was no reply. Rory walked up the steps to the bedroom and tentatively opened the door.
"Logan?"
Her husband was fast asleep, his face crumpled into the pillow. He had got under the covers though he was still fully dressed and Rory smiled, picking up a blanket from the bottom of the bed.
"Eesa!"
Rory froze, about to place the blanket over him.
"Eesa," Logan moaned. "God, Eesa."
"Eesa?" Rory echoed out loud. "Who's Eesa?"
She slowly placed the blanket over her husband but Logan woke up.
"Rory?"
"Hey," Rory said with a small laugh. "Who's Eesa?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You were saying something in your sleep...something like Eesa."
"I was dreaming," Logan said sleepily, sitting up slightly and pushing the blanket away. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
"You went for a walk," Logan said, not sounding entirely awake. "How long have you been back?"
"Not long. I forgot about dinner. I'm sorry."
Logan smiled and pulled Rory down onto the bed with him. He kissed her, his mouth warm with sleep, and pressed her body onto his. He already had an erection.
"Logan –"
"I missed you."
"I was only gone a few hours."
"Keep kissing me," Logan whispered, shifting so he was lying on top of her and slipping a hand inside her shirt. Rory obeyed. Dinner would wait and she closed her eyes.
The first week of their vacation passed pleasantly, if slowly. They spent their days on the beach, Logan with his cellphone and laptop so he could work and Rory with the book she couldn't read. Try as she might, she could never get past the first chapter and she sighed, lying on her back and closing her eyes, not asleep and not awake. She took to taking long walks along the strand in the early evening, when Logan would work inside the house and before he wanted dinner. She would usually go out for an hour and today, as she neared the house on her return, Rory stopped and sat in a sand dune. She didn't want to go back. She should be enjoying the vacation yet in some ways she would sooner be in Hartford. Logan was there, all the time, only he wasn't, he was on his cellphone or laptop and even when he finished for the day it was almost as though he wasn't talking to her. He would ask Rory how her walk had been, what she was going to cook for dinner, and what time she wanted to go to bed. Rory knew he was trying to be nice, treating her by taking her away but she still felt the shadow of sadness which had hung over her before and hugged her knees in the dune. She wished she could stay there all night.
A group of children suddenly ran down to the water's edge, screaming with excitement, bucket and spade in hand. Rory heard the call of whom she guessed was their mother, telling them not to go too far, and the three settled down at the very end of the sand, starting the business of making a sandcastle. Rory stood up, knowing it was time to go back, but she looked at them a little longer. There were two girls and a boy. She closed her eyes and then opened them in surprise as she felt a pair of arms envelope her.
"That could be us," Rory heard Logan murmur. "Couldn't it?"
Rory didn't say anything and he said,
"We could have a kid just like that. That could be our son."
"Logan –"
"Or a girl," Logan grinned, turning so he was looking at her. "I know you want a girl."
Rory smiled and shook her head.
"I wouldn't mind what we had."
"It's okay, I know you want a girl. Not that you'd love a boy less which is good, because I want a boy."
"Logan, stop it," Rory said, looking away from the children. "We've talked about this. I don't want a kid, boy or girl. Not now."
"Why not?"
"It's not the right time."
"It's the perfect time!" Logan exclaimed. "We're young, we've got money, we could buy him the best of everything. Or her," he added, grinning at Rory. "The three of us here every year building a sandcastle like those kids. Only it would be our kid. It would be perfect."
"Logan –"
"Is this about the depression thing?" Logan asked, taking her hands. "Look, I'm sorry if I didn't take it seriously. We'll get you back on track."
"It's not as simple as –"
"I'll send you to the best doctors," Logan said. "I'll get you the best help. It won't stop us. You'd be the best mom, Rory. Who knows, maybe –"
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe the reason you're down is because you don't have a lot to do. You'd have a lot to do with a baby."
Rory stared at him and Logan shifted, guessing that he had said the wrong thing.
"But if you don't want a kid right now we don't have to," he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Like I said, we're young. We've got all the time in the world."
"Yes," Rory echoed sadly. "All the time we need."
They walked back to the house, the children's laughter ringing behind them.
Two days before they were due to go back Logan got a phonecall. He got dressed in the smartest clothes he'd worn, zipped up his laptop and told his confused wife,
"That's the office, I've got to go into Massachusetts for the day."
"What?" Rory exclaimed. "But we're on vacation!"
"I'm sorry Ace – it's a big meeting and if I go now I can catch the ferry."
"Can't they do it without you?"
"They could but it would be better if I was there," Logan said, closing her question with a kiss. "And seeing as I can get there..."
"Right," Rory said unhappily. He kissed her again.
"It's only one day, Ace. I'll be back by six."
Rory nodded, he winked at her, picked up his laptop and left, closing the door with a bang.
Rory walked around the house, hugging herself. It felt strange being there alone. Well, she decided firmly, she wasn't going to sit inside all day. She wouldn't mope. Rory grabbed the keys and went out.
Rory spent most of the day exploring the Vineyard, going to all the places Logan had always said were too boring to see. Rory spent the morning at a museum and arboretum before stopping for lunch which she ate overlooking the beach. She found a new part of the coastline she'd never seen before, took some photos to show Lorelai and finally headed back mid-afternoon. It was still early but it was starting to cloud and she didn't want to get caught in the rain. Fat drops were starting to hit her head just as she got back inside and Rory leaned against the door, feeling triumphant.
Her happiness soon dwindled as she walked into the house. Logan was still going to be out for three hours and Rory wondered what to do with herself. It was peaceful, being there alone, even if it was a little odd. Rory didn't think she had ever been there by herself and slowly she walked around the living room. The house always seemed different whenever she came back but the smell was the same, old furniture, sea and sand, a scent which the Huntzbergers could never get rid of despite their best efforts. Rory closed her eyes and breathed it in. She felt a protective kind of pride that they couldn't. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, remembering, suddenly, the weekend she had come here with Luke and Lorelai for Valentine's Day and how her mother had found in her a sudden burst of domesticity, chopping food for dinner. You know, Rory remembered saying, they could be the ones. She had been so happy and sure. Rory could almost see her younger self in front of her, filled with happiness at the thought of Logan in her future. It had only been four years ago yet somehow seemed much more.
Rory's eyes wandered over to the bookcase and she bent down to look at the titles. It was a somewhat miscellaneous collection. There were several children's books, which Rory assumed were from Logan and Honor's childhood and Rory tried to imagine Logan reading one to the child he wanted to come. The picture didn't seem real, plausible, and Rory moved to the rest of the books. There were some cheap looking romances, which Rory supposed were Shira's, and some thrillers. There was nothing that she really wanted to read but as she straightened up Rory caught sight of Moby Dick. Her face spread into a smile. Moby Dick, her first Melville, the book, she remembered, she'd been reading when she and Dean had met. The relationship wasn't a terribly fond memory but the book was and Rory took it out, curled into a chair and began to read.
Rory woke with a start some time later. A glance at her watch showed it was only half an hour later but the sky was black and the house was dark, the rain splattering the warped French doors. Rory got out of the chair, feeling a little spooked, and against her better judgement ghost stories she had absorbed over the years filled her mind. The house was old and full of noises and Rory jumped at a creak and then again at a scratch in the window. She told herself sternly to stop being stupid, that the noise was only Stan the raccoon, but she couldn't relax, couldn't read again and in the end she marched into the bedroom, deciding to tidy Logan's mess to take her mind off it. The mess was minimal and, after tidying some clothes away, Rory's eyes caught sight of the edge of her suitcase. She remembered what was left inside, what she had hidden when Logan wasn't looking.
Looking around, in case Logan had suddenly come back, Rory slowly opened it and retrieved the writing paper. She had brought it on a whim, not planning on actually using it, but now she was alone she tiptoed back downstairs with it tight in her arms. She put it on the old writing table in the corner, found a fountain pen on the bookcase and settled down to write.
Rory held the pen to paper and hesitated. She couldn't remember the last time she had written a letter. Memory decided it had been the summer in Washington and Rory was acutely aware of sitting in the exact same position, writing to the exact same person, many years before. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
Dear Jess,
It's Rory. I'm guessing you know that but probably best I put my name in case. Wouldn't want you to read this and feel completely confused.
Rory cringed. It sounded like a bad joke but she didn't want to get a fresh sheet. She couldn't think of anything else to say.
I don't know who else you'd get a letter from, though. No one writes letters anymore. I sound like my grandma but it's kind of a shame. I remember, when we were kids, Lane and I got obsessed with writing to each other. We only lived minutes away but we were so jealous of kids who got letters (I had some penpal from a magazine once but she quit replying pretty quickly) that we decided we'd write to each other. We acted like we hadn't seen each other in weeks and would write these long descriptions of school and home and how our mornings had been, like we hadn't been there together for half of it, and then run up to each other and read the letter to each other. We would watch the mailman deliver the letters from our windows and grin at each other. The mail guy even offered to deliver them without stamps, which I think may be illegal, because even he thought it was stupid but we said it was more official that way. In the end Mrs Kim banned it, she said it was wastefulness. We wrote notes for a while anyway, delivering them by hand, but in the end we grew out of it. It was fun though. I kept most of them.
Rory read it back and blushed. She hadn't planned on writing some story about her and Lane which Jess probably didn't care about but it was too late now. She understood what Jess meant about the positives of email. She couldn't delete what seemed dull.
I'm in Nantucket, like I told you. We're going home in a couple of days. Logan's been in Massachusetts today for work, despite being on vacation, so I've spent the day exploring. It was kind of fun in a way. I think you'd like it. Logan hates all that. He's worked most of the time anyway and I've been spending the days on the beach. We've been lucky with the weather.
Rory cringed again. What was wrong with her? The letter was turning out like a boring family story and postcard. If she'd been at the paper she would have yelled at herself for bad writing and, as it was, she picked up the pen and tried again.
I'm looking forward to going back. Time doesn't seem real here or, if I'm honest, for the past several months. Sometimes it feels like I'm floating or in amber...it's hard to describe and I don't want to use tired clichés. I'm sure my doctor would be interested to hear. She wants me to come back when I get home. She was asking all about my childhood before and about Mom. I don't know what I said meant anything but she seemed interested. Do all therapists ask that kind of stuff? I I've got to say, I was surprised when you told me about seeing that doctor, even if it was unofficial. I never imagined you doing that but I don't mean it as a bad thing. I'm proud of you too, Jess. I feel weird going to see someone but better for it. I told Logan and he thinks I can get over it by making some friends. I wanted to ask why he was taking you away then, but he wants me to have friends from his world. I guess I'm part of it too but sometimes, a lot of the time, I feel like a visitor. I'm married and in my twenties but a lot of the time I just feel like Rory Gimore, the kid from Stars Hollow, who got into Chilton with her grandparents' help. Not a real part of it.
Grandma reminded me of that the other day, that I'm still seeing things the old way. She said marriage was about compromise when I said Logan didn't want me to see you (I didn't tell her your name, of course – she still thinks of you as that thug who came to dinner). I'm confused, Jess. I don't want to compromise myself and lose our friendship but I don't want to feel like I'm hurting and betraying my husband. You kissed me. You didn't plan on it but you did. Nothing can change that and nothing can change the fact that, as you kissed me, I liked it, though I can't explain why. I love Logan but I can't talk to him. When I try to he laughs at me, makes a joke. I know he loves me but he doesn't listen to me. You listen to me, Jess. You've always taken me seriously. I miss that. I miss someone respecting me, hearing me out and not fixing it with a country club membership. I miss you completely.
Jess, I want to see you again but this is freaking me out a little. I'm married to someone else. I can't feel these things, it's wrong. I think we should take time apart but I can't stand the idea of never seeing you again. I don't know what to do. I need some time to figure it out.
I should go. Logan will be back soon and I need to cook dinner (no, I haven't poisoned him yet).
I miss you,
Rory.
Rory hesitated and finally completed the letter with xxx. She slowly folded the letter, put it in an envelope and wrote Jess on it. She realised she'd left the letter with Jess's return address on it in Hartford but it didn't matter. She couldn't imagine sending it. She put the letter in her novel, hid it in her bag and looked out of the window. The sky was grimacing and Rory waited for her husband to return.