43 - Deluge
"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming," muttered a drowsy Rory as she was more or less shuffling into the living room in search of the cordless phone receiver, its ringing having woken the reporter up from an unexpected evening nap. When she finally located it, Rory pressed the talk button and put in up to her ear. "Hello?"
"It's about time you answered your phone, Gilmore," the annoyed and unmistakable voice of Paris Geller scolded over the line. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to pick up?"
"Are you channelling my grandmother? Because you sound an awfully lot like her right now, Paris," sighed a still tired Rory, not quite knowing why she'd been so fatigued as of late. Maybe she was pushing herself too hard? Whatever. It didn't matter right now. "Anyway, what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What do you mean? Didn't your invite get there yet? I sent it to you through a courier so it wouldn't get lost! I swear if they lost that invite, I am going to rip the head of that company a new one," the blonde doctor growled.
"Hold on, I see some stuff on the table," she told her friend, sifting through the various envelopes placed on the kitchen table. "Bill. Bill. Another bill. Oh, look another bill. What color would this envelope be, by the way."
"Lavender with a floral design that's a slightly darker shade of lavander," Paris informed her.
"Sounds fancy," the reporter mumbled until the blonde's words from earlier clicked in her head, causing Rory to stop dead in her tracks. "Wait. Did you say invite? An invite to what? Your birthday isn't for another three months, if I remember correctly."
"You just had to pick now to go brain dead on me," the other former Yale graduate muttered. "It's for my wedding, Rory!"
"So you and Doyle finally picked a date? That's great, Paris!" Rory cried in excitement. "When are you guys getting hitched?" Just as she asked, the journalist located her quarry. "Hey, I found it!"
"Well, open it and find out," ordered Paris, her voice sounding almost nervous.
Rory shrugged off that notion and did what her friend requested, only to frown at the date written on the beautifully decorative invitation. "That's...awfully close. What? Did Doyle get you pregnant or something?"
"Would you think any less of me if I said yes?" Paris asked back.
A stunned Rory found that she needed a seat at that moment, which were luckily in abundance since she was standing near the kitchen table. "Wow. That's...really great?"
"You don't sound excited," said her old classmate in that familiar dry and skeptical way only Paris Geller could possibly hope to pull off.
"I'm just a little surprised," she admitted, glad to be sitting down now. "Wait, you're not-"
"No, I am not marrying Doyle for the sole reason that he got me pregnant, Gilmore," an affronted sounding Paris cut in, seeming to know what Rory had been about to ask her. "We've been engaged for nearly three years and together for twice that long, so this shouldn't be a huge surprise for everybody! So what if we're getting married before I finished my residency like we originally planned? So what if our wedding is a little ahead of schedule? We were planning to get married eventually anyway! Why is everybody acting so scandalized by this?"
"I take it from the length of that passionate rant that some people have been giving you a hard time about this?" Rory guessed.
"Yes," the young doctor confirmed with a tired sigh.
"Well, just so you know, I'm not judging here, Paris," she soothed. "I'm only trying to make sure that you're certain about this."
"I know, I'm sorry. Stupid hormones are making me crazy and cranky," the other woman sighed again. "Add in my mother's snarky comments from half a world away and I end up snapping at the wrong person."
"Completely understandable," Rory chimed in.
"You're always so patient when it comes to dealing with me. I guess that's why I'll always consider you to be my best friend, Rory," Paris continued with uncharacteristic emotion in her voice. "God, stupid hormones!" The blonde half laughed, half sniffled. "Anyway, before my stupid hormones end up making me a blubbering mess, I need to ask you to do something very important for me."
"You're the bride-to-be, so just name it and I'll do it," the reporter promised into the receiver.
"Would you be my maid-of-honor?" Paris asked hopefully.
"It would be my pleasure, Paris Geller, soon-to-be McMasters," Rory accepted, smiling into the receiver.
After having an excited Paris go over her itinerary over the last thirty minutes on what she wanted Rory to do in preparation for the wedding next month, Rory placed the cordless into its cradle to recharge and then walked into her kitchen for a snack. She had just grabbed an apple from the fridge and headed back into the living room when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention, notifying her that Sarah had returned from wherever she had been.
"Hey, roomie," the tall brunette greeted on entering. "You seem chipper and much more rested than when I left. Good nap?"
"It was all right, I suppose," Rory nodded while sitting down on the couch. "But if you must know, I just got some exciting news from an old friend."
"Oh, does this have anything to do with the fancy envelope that arrived this afternoon?" Sarah ventured, seating herself on the opposite end of the couch.
"Yeah, turns out my friend, Paris, is getting married next month," grinned the first girl. "And she asked me to be her maid-of-honor!"
"That's sounds pretty freaking awesome, Gilly," her roommate smiled while grabbing the nearest throw pillow in order to hug it like a stuffed animal. "But I do find it odd that she didn't give you much time to prepare. What's up with that?"
Between bites of her apple, Rory quickly explained the bride-to-be's circumstances.
"And even though Paris didn't give me a lot of notice, I am pretty excited to by all this," she finished with a smile. "And I'll be more than happy to endure a little bit of hassle if it means I can be there for her."
"So, will Marty be joining you there?" Sarah asked as Rory finished off her apple and set the remains on the coffee table.
"I...don't know," Rory admitted, then quickly added. "I'd assume so since he's my boyfriend and all, but I haven't had the chance to pass this by him yet." The reporter paused for a moment to frown in consideration.
Her roommate reached over to grasp Rory's hand. "What's the matter?"
"I'm not really sure if it's anything to worry about, but he's been, I don't know, distracted," she elaborated. "Like there's something huge on his mind, you know?"
"You want me to have Dan do some digging?" Sarah offered. "We both know he'd be more than happy to needle his brother until Marty finally breaks."
"No, thanks, I'm just being paranoid," sighed Rory with a soft chuckle. "He did mention that Rob gave him some important project, so that's probably it. No need to get Dan involved."
"Suit yourself," her newest friend shrugged. "Anyway, while we're on the subject of Dan, I have something I need to pass by you. Or rather, break to you."
"Please tell me you're not pregnant, too," Rory joked.
"We've had to have had sex first in order for that to happen, Gilly," she returned jovially. "Didn't that Ivy League school teach you anything about human biology?"
"Yes, I'm well aware of how that works, but that's besides the point. Now, you were saying?"
"Right, back on topic," Sarah stated, suddenly anxious. It was rare for the confident girl across from Rory to get anxious, so the journalist was definitely intrigued now. "So, you know how I've been bitching about my lack of hours as a computer tech at the Tribune, right? Especially after how that whole tech show deal went to shit in Tampa." She paused to compose herself, the memory of how that potentially fantastic opportunity fell through was still a sore spot for Sarah. Rory couldn't blame her for still being angry either. From what little Sarah had told her about what happened, the son of the station's owner had sexually harrassed her on an almost daily basis and basically caused her to lose her job when Sarah refused his advances.
Rory laid a hand over her roommate's. "You okay, buddy?"
"I will be," Sarah nodded, once again composed. "Anyway, Dan talked to a friend of his who needs a new host for a show that deals with comics, gadgets and stuff."
"Kind of like that 'Attack of the Show', you're always watching?" Rory asked.
"Pretty much," the other girl nodded.
She squeezed Sarah's hand. "Sounds right up your alley, Riley."
"It's in California though," her roommate said, almost apologetically.
"And I'd hate to see you go, but this sounds like an opportunity way too good to let pass by," Rory said, then added softly. "Don't let what happened in Tampa ruin this for you, Sarah. It'll be different this time, I promise. Besides, you'll have Dan nearby to lean on, so everything will perfect."
"I'm going to miss you, Gilly," Sarah rasped, leaning forward to hug Rory with all her might. "Thank you for putting up with me for so long."
"Don't mention it, Riley," Rory whispered back, a little choked herself. "Now enough of all this good-bye stuff. You haven't even left yet! So why don't we grab ourselves some junk food and watch some movies? What do you say?"
"That sounds great," her friend agreed.
Three hours and a better part of two movies later found a once again drowsy Rory struggling to keep her eyes open, despite the fact that the movie playing out onscreen was rather intense. She glanced over at her already comatose roommate snoozing on the other end of the couch, then back at the television where Old Boy, a film Sarah claimed to have seen a hundred times since it first came out, was reaching its end onscreen.
"You have real twisted taste in movies," a yawning Rory remarked to her sleeping friend, more than a little disturbed by how the film ended regardless of how tired she was at the moment. After she had turned off both the dvd player and television, Rory began to head towards her bedroom when the telephone rang. She picked up the nearby cordless as swiftly as possible in hopes of preventing it from waking Sarah, the receiver pressed up against her ear following only a single ring. "Hello?"
"I have amazing news," her mother stated excitedly over the line.
"You do realize it's almost midnight here, don't you?" Rory groused, shuffling into the next room so as not to disturb the slumbering Sarah. While she was beyond grateful that her mother had forgiven Rory's horrible slip of the tongue several weeks ago, all the reporter wanted right now was to go bed. Leave it to her hyperactive mother to put the kabosh on that plan. "Meaning it's nearly one there."
"What's the matter, babe?" Lorelai quizzed.
"I'm just a little exhausted. It's been a pretty long couple of days. Nothing to worry about though," she assured, continuing towards her bedroom. "Anyway, what's this amazing news? Did you finally manage to convince Taylor to step down as town selectman?"
"Oh, like that megalomaniac would ever let go any of what little power he actually has," her mother snorted in amusement. "No, guess again, my eldest loin fruit."
"We've talked about the whole loin fruit thing, remember?" Rory reprimanded. "And no, I'm not playing a guessing game, Mom. I'm too tired."
"So you and Marty have finally gotten to that point in the relationship, have you?" Lorelai teased, her obvious smirk almost audible over the phone.
"I'm going to hang up in three seconds if you don't stop being gross," the reporter groaned, the soft matress which she now sat upon feeling so inviting to her right then.
"Alright, alright, spoil sport," griped her mother. "Anyway, you know April, right?"
"Yes, I am familiar with my step-sister," she confirmed.
"And you know how she's been looking into nearby campuses in order to be closer to Luke once she starts university in the fall?" Lorelai continued.
Rory smiled. "I'm taking it that she got into one of the really good ones if you're making such a big deal about this."
"Not just any of the good ones, Rory," the other Gilmore girl said, excitedly. "April's going to Harvard!"
"Wow, that's...fantastic," the Yale graduate replied, a little stunned by the news. Before Rory had decided to attend Yale instead, her dream since childhood had been that of going to Harvard.
"Hello? Rory? Are you still there?"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry," apologized Rory. "Spaced out there for a sec."
"Okay, kid. Out with it," Lorelai ordered.
Rory frowned. "What?"
"Whatever it is that has you so distracted," her mother elaborated.
"It's nothing, Mom," she denied. "I'm just really tired."
"Rory."
"Mom."
"Please tell me what's wrong, sweets," Lorelai pleaded when her stern tone didn't do the trick.
Rory was briefly tempted to stave off, but decided to relent instead.
"You ever get that feeling your life is going nowhere?" she sighed. "Oh, I know I shouldn't complain. I've got it good. I have my dream job. I have Marty. But with everything that's happened today, I feel like I'm being left behind. Like I'm at a stand still while everybody else is moving forward."
"That's not the only thing bothering you though, is it?" Lorelai prodded, somehow knowing there was more to it than that.
"I mean, I'm twenty seven years old, Mom. I feel like I should be married and having kids by now," she lamented, palm flat against her forehead. "What I wouldn't do to be in April's shoes right now, to have that much time again." Rory released another soft sigh. "Mom?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Do you think I made a mistake by going to Yale instead of Harvard like we originally planned?"
"No, I don't, Rory," the older Gilmore stated after a quiet moment of consideration. "Because if you hadn't gone to Yale then you wouldn't be the successful person who you are today. Sure, I could've gone without the whole not talking to each other for almost a year thing, but thems the breaks. Also, if you hadn't gone to Yale, you wouldn't have met Marty. Am I right?"
"Yeah, I suppose you are," the reporter agreed.
"Speaking of your beau," her mother segued. "How are things going between you and Naked Guy? Now that you're a bonafide couple, I mean."
"We're good," Rory said, then added. "For the most part, that is."
"Hmm?"
"I seem to have become one of those girls who are completely ecstatic when their boyfriend is around but utterly riddled with doubts when he's not," she explained, unable to prevent herself from venting now that her mother had all but encouraged the journalist to do so.
"Has Marty given you any reason to make you doubt him?" Lorelai queried.
"Other than being distracted by some project at work, no," a sheepish Rory admitted, feeling ridiculous now that she'd mentioned it. "I just can't help it though. I don't want to doubt him, but-"
"You want my advice, kid?" Lorelai interupted.
She nodded. "Of course."
"Give him space. Don't push him. If whatever it is that's distracting Marty is caused by work, then this'll blow over and you've worried for nothing," her mother advised.
"And if he's still distracted after that?" Rory wondered aloud.
"Then bring it up, ask him how you can help. Just whatever you do, Rory, do not, I repeat, DO NOT give him an ultimatum," Lorelai warned. "Otherwise, you could end up pushing away Marty the same way I pushed away Luke. And we both know how close I came to really screwing the pooch on that one, don't we?"
"Oy, with the pooches already!"
"You must be a wreck if you're messing up our catchphrase like that," chuckled the elder Gilmore girl. "Go to bed, babe."
"Thanks, I will, Mom," she smiled, feeling lighter now. "Give Luke and Billy my best."
"No problem," Lorelai replied. "Oh, and Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Good night, Mom."
"Good night, kiddo."
With that conversation finished, Rory pressed the end button and cradled the cordless receiver against her chest. Her fatigue from earlier swiftly overtook Rory, the faint rumbling of her cellphone atop the night stand going nearly unnoticed as darkness rushed in like an avalanche to devour the reporter's consciousness whole.