39 - Biting Bullets & Moving Glaciers
I wonder what's taking him so long? Rory wondered impatiently, only to immediately chide herself for doing so. After all Marty had been waiting the entire week since the incident with Lexie in her hallway, so what right did Rory have to be annoyed at him being fifteen to twenty minutes late?
"Would you like another drink while you wait for your friend?"
"Hmm?" Rory glanced up at the young waitress who addressed her. She briefly studied the blonde girl's almost cherubic features before nodding her response. "Yes, please."
"Coming right up," the waitress grinned.
"Thanks," replied Rory, her attention once again on the restuarant's entrance. Just as the waitress returned with her drink, Rory's blue eyed gaze fell on a frazzled looking Marty entering through the door. "Finally," she said, releasing a sigh of relief.
"I'll grab you some menus," the waitress stated with amusement.
Great, now I'm being laughed at by some kid, the reporter scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Thanks a lot, Marty!
"Hey, sorry I'm late," her long awaited companion apologized in greeting, an ironic little smile playing on his lips. "You weren't waiting too long, I hope."
"Very funny," she chuckled without humor.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist."
"Yeah, well, I suppose I can't really blame you," admitted the reporter.
"Here are your menus, you two," the waitress announced, a lamenated menu handed to Rory and Marty in that order. She looked directly at the architect. "What would you like to drink, sir?"
"Iced tea would be great. Thanks," he replied.
"Be right back with that," she beamed.
"Is it just me or do all waitresses seem to like you?" Rory teased.
Marty shrugged. "I don't know. Never really noticed."
"You're so modest, M-"
"Martin? Is that you?"
Both of them turned at the cheery voice that had interupted Rory mid-sentence to discover that it was a wisp of a girl who appeared to be around sixteen years old at the most (and that was if you were being generous). Rory briefly wondered how such a young girl would even know Marty, much less be so excited to see him, but she couldn't come up with anything.
"Riese? What are you doing here?" Marty asked in mild surprise. He rose from his chair just as the girl arrived at their table to engulf the tall architect in a hug. Rory couldn't help but scowl at the sight, even though she knew there was no way Marty would get involved with a minor. No matter how pretty she was.
"Oh, I'm picking up dinner for the fam tonight," the girl explained, excitedly gesturing as they separated. "You wouldn't believe the amount of begging I had to do to get Daddy to let me come here by myself though, Martin. It was insane! He still treats me like a little girl. How crazy is that? I mean, I'm sixteen years old! I have a driver's license, for pity's sake. When is he going to get that through his head? I love the guy, but he drives me bonkers sometimes, you know?"
"Didn't you just get your license last week?" Marty quirked an eyebrow.
"So not the point, Martin," retorted the rapid speaking teenager. The girl turned her gaze to Rory all of a sudden, an inquisitive expression on her delicate features. "Oh, hello there. I'm Riese. And who might you be?"
"Uh, hi, Riese. I'm Rory," replied the reporter, who was slightly taken aback by the quick turn in the conversation. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise, Rory," returned Riese with a bright smile. "Hey, is it okay if I sit with you guys until my order's done? It won't be more than five minutes, I promise."
"I don't see why not," she agreed after sharing a glance with Marty, whose expression told Rory it was up to her. "Have a seat."
"Thanks!"
"No problem."
The three of them all sat down with the teenager taking the seat next to Rory on her right. The waitress arrived a moment later with Rory and Marty's drinks then left after inquiring if Riese would like a drink, which she refused since the teen claimed she wouldn't be there for very long.
"So, how do you two know each other?" Rory asked when all three of them were alone again.
"Daddy is Martin's boss," answered Riese, who was practically bouncing in her seat. "I used to hang out around the office whenever Mom was out of town and stuck me with Daddy." She grinned. "I used to get so bored and would bug the heck out of whoever had the bad luck of running into me. That's how I met Martin here, and the rest, as they say, is history."
"You get used to her after a while," Marty joked.
"Oh, please! I know you love me. I'm like the little sister you never had," the teen retorted with a casual wave of her hand. She shot Marty that megawatt smile again before turning back to Rory, that same smile not quite reaching her steely blue eyes now that they met the reporter's. "Which works out pretty well since he's the closest thing to an older brother I'll ever have. You know what I mean, Rory?"
"Um, yeah," she agreed, once again taken aback by this girl. Despite her initial sweet demeanor and innocent girl next door looks, Riese's warning for Rory to tread lightly was received loud and clear.
"Excellent," the girl clapped her hands happily, the previously mentioned innocent demeanor returning to the fore. "Well, it looks like my order is finished, so I'll leave you two to your dinner now. TTFN!"
"Okay, that girl is scary," an almost intimitated Rory stated when the girl had finally left the restaurant.
"She's not that bad," Marty defended.
"If she went to school to Chilton when I was there, I don't think even Paris would have messed with her. That has to tell you something."
Before Marty could reply, the waitress returned. "Are you ready to order?"
After the pair made their orders, they fell into a tense silence that neither seemed able or willing to break. As much as Rory wanted to broach the subject of them having slept together, she really didn't know how to begin. She was nervous and half tempted to scrap the whole idea all together. Bolting out of restaurant was a tempting option than having to talk about her indiscretion with the man seated across the table from her right now. She glanced up at him, her azure blue eyes meeting his hazel ones.
"So...how about that local sports team?" Marty joked in an attempted to quell the growing awkwardness.
It worked since Rory smirked in amusement. "Which one are you talking about? The Bulls? The Blackhawks? The Cubs?"
"You forgot about the White Sox," he smirked back.
"Well, I'm not all that sports savvy, so pardon the faux pas on my part, Mister Harrison."
"I guess I can forgive you this one time, Miss Gilmore."
"How generous of you," she laughed.
"All silliness aside though, Rory," Marty said, his expression turning serious. "I think it's time we actually talked about everything that's happened."
"Yeah, I suppose I've made you wait long enough, huh?" Rory agreed, a resigned sigh escaping her lips. "So where would you like to start?"
"Hmm, seeing how I woke up butt naked in my guest room with no memory of how I got there, I guess my first question would have to be why you left," he stated. "Was it that bad?"
"No, no, it was great," she assured with a slight blush.
He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Don't act smug. It doesn't suit you," the reporter chided.
"Well, if it was 'great' like you said, then why did you leave before I woke up?" Marty inquired, once again serious.
"I left because it shouldn't have happened," she answered, then hastily added. "Don't get me wrong, Marty. I don't regret it happening. It's just...the timing was extremely off."
"Wait a second," he said. "So let me get this straight. You don't regret the actual act of sleeping with me, only the timing? Is that what you're telling me?"
Rory nodded. "Pretty much."
"Huh."
"Mar-"
"Just give me a moment to digest all this, Rory," he interjected, not unkindly. "Please?"
"Um, I'll just go and use the washroom really quick then," said Rory, desperately needing a breather despite the fact they had only started. "I'll be right back."
Without waiting for a reply from him, she rose from her chair and practically fled the table for the relative solitude of the Sutton's Bistro washroom. After entering the washroom and splashing water on her face at the sinks, Rory glanced up at her reflection. She briefly considered running again but immediately scrapped that idea. It was already too late for that option. Besides, this conversation was long overdue. She owed it to Marty to stick this out. The reporter dropped her gaze down onto the sink in order to rediscover her resolve, then returned that gaze to the identical face staring back at her in the mirror.
"Might as well bite that bullet, Gilmore," the reporter told her reflection before exitting the washroom.
"I was starting to worry you weren't coming back," Marty remarked when she returned to the table, where Rory noticed that their orders had arrived while she was gone. "Something wrong?"
"I wasn't really gone that long, was I?" Rory frowned, perplexed at how quickly their food had been prepared. Did I really spend that much time psyching myself up?
Her dining companion simply shrugged then stabbed his fork into whatever it was that he'd ordered, which honestly Rory couldn't remember because she had been distracted at the time. Hell, the journalist couldn't even remember what she had ordered herself, but Rory was willing to bet it was her usual dish, the veggie pasta. That in itself was odd since it was deemed healthy by most people, yet Rory almost always had it when she ate at or ordered from Sutton's. Weird.
"You alright?"
"Excuse me?" Rory glanced up from her dish (which was in fact the veggie pasta), momentarily startled before recovering. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a little distracted. Sorry." She nervously tucked a strand of stray hair behing her ear. "Anyhow, would it be alright if we got back to what we were talking about earlier?"
"Yeah, about tha-" Marty began.
"Please, Marty, let me say something first," she interupted, her hand up in a polite fashion. "Then you have the floor back."
"Sounds fair," he said, leaning back slightly in his seat.
"Thank you," Rory nodded back in appreciation. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then let out a short, steadying breath before continuing. "Now we've already established that what happened between us was a mistake, but not because it happened. Let me make that absolutely clear, okay? It's just the timing that I have a problem with." Marty opened his mouth to speak, but Rory cut him off. "And before you ask, I didn't sleep with you out of pity."
He nodded. "Okay then."
"All that said," she continued in earnest, hoping to out pace her already dwindling resolve. "I wish I had waited though, Marty, because then this wouldn't be so damned complicated." Rory swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat. "And I wouldn't be the rebound."
"Is that what you're afraid of, Rory?" Marty asked, surprise being the only word that fit his current expression. "Of being the rebound?"
"Yeah, it is," Rory nodded, a sniffle escaping her despite the reporter's best efforts not to. "And can you really blame me? I mean, you were about to get married to your girlfriend of three years, and I was a complete wreck the entire time. Then suddenly you're not, and I'm still a wreck. But only now because I was worried about you." She paused to take a steady breath to calm herself down. "Then you came back and I'm suddenly worried that Andy will show up again. That you'll take her back and-"
"And that's how we ended up here," he finished.
"And that's how we ended up here," she repeated in confirmation. Rory gazed imploringly at him across the table, deciding then and there to lay all her cards down. "I want to be in a relationship with you, Marty, but that can't happen properly until you're over Andy. I won't be your consolation prize. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
He nodded, but remained silent.
"So if you're interested in this relationship happening, if you want to pursue this with me any further," Rory stated in no uncertain terms. "Then it's going to have to be slow. And when I say slow, I mean glacial slow. We're talking the Chenega Glacier in Alaska here, Marty. Are you okay with that?"
Marty frowned for a moment, then reached across the table to grasp her hand. She watched him entwine their fingers before glancing up to meet his gaze. "Does this answer your question?"
Unable to speak because she no longer trusted her voice from cracking, a very happy Rory Gilmore simply nodded back at him.
I don't really know much about glaciers, so I apologize if Rory's analogy didn't make any sense.