49 - Always the Bridesmaid
Five minutes alone, that's all I'm asking for, Rory thought with an exasperated sigh, her back pressed up against the door to prevent anybody from following her inside the dressing room. After briefly glancing around to make certain she'd entered the correct room, Rory quickly locked the door then walked over to the ornately crafted antique table and divan sofa that were the center pieces of the room. There she located her bag atop the table and removed her cellphone from it before falling back onto the divan in order to check her messages, hoping against hope that Marty had texted her.
"Nothing," the journalist muttered bitterly at the touchscreen. Not that Rory was very surprised by this news. For the last five and a half days all she could think about was how big of a mistake that ultimatum truly had been. Well, whenever Rory wasn't distracting herself with the wedding preparations that is. Truthfully she was grateful for being so busy since her arrival because it kept Rory from becoming a complete blubbering mess like she'd been on the plane. She glanced at her cellphone again and noticed that if Marty was going to come, he'd more than likely miss the ceremony since it started in less than thirty minutes. For a brief moment Rory was tempted to send an apologetic text to beg Marty to hurry but decided against it, instead just typing the bare necessities.
[At the Windsor Club. Hope to see you. -Rory]
A knock on the door captured her attention, followed by the inquistive voice of one of her two fellow bridesmaids. "Rory? Are you in there?"
"I'll be right out, Louise," she called out, rising from the divan to return her cellphone to her bag.
"Good, 'cause Paris is going nuts wondering where you disappeared to," her former classmate from Chilton answered as the maid of honor unlocked and opened the door.
"Let's go," Rory sighed while sparing one last glance back before following Louise back to Paris' bridal suite, once again shifting into bridal party mode.
Just like Rory had predicted, Marty did miss the ceremony. At least she couldn't find the tall architect in the crowd when the reporter could afford the chance to search for him. In fact, Marty had missed the first half hour of the reception.
Sometime during her fretful search for Marty's lanky visage in the crowd, Rory noticed that her mother had entered the hall accompanied by Luke, April and William.
"Hi, babe," Lorelai greeted when they reached her, each member of her family hugging Rory in turn. "How are you holding up?"
"As well as you'd expect," she answered, having already explained the situation with Marty to her mother on Wednesday. "And before you ask, no, Marty hasn't texted or called yet."
"Don't worry, hun," Lorelai assured. "It'll work itself out."
"I hope you're right," nodded Rory, then knelt down to address her younger brother. "But nevermind that for now." She smiled at William, sweeping back the two and a half year old's shaggy hair away from his eyes. "Hey, Billy Boy. How's my favorite little brother?"
"Ay'm yer onwy wil brother," he lisped.
"Still makes you my favorite," she grinned.
He smiled back. "Mama says dewe's cake."
"Mama's right," Rory took his hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Paris, too. This is her party."
"Can Apwi come?" William asked hopefully.
"Sure thing," the soon-to-be Harvard freshman agreed from next to her father, the three of them making their way to the concession table was located. After introducing Paris to her younger brother and step-sister, Rory excused herself to check her cellphone to see if Marty left any messages.
Unfortunately, the journalist only made it as far as the entrance when she felt somebody grasp her by the wrist. When Rory turned to face whoever it was that grabbed her, she felt her stomach drop in disappointment. She had briefly hoped that it was Marty who'd suddenly showed up but instead Rory came face to face with somebody she hadn't seen for nearly five years.
"Hey, Ace," Logan greeted. "Long time no see."
"Hello, Logan," she returned politely. "Nice to see you again."
"Wow, did it suddenly get cold in here, or is it just me?" he smirked.
"Sorry, it's just I got a lot on my mind right now," she apologized. It wasn't like Rory had come to hate Logan since their last encounter but she was no longer comfortable around him. The memory of his all or nothing proposal soured much of her fondness for the heir of the Huntzberger publishing empire. "If you excuse me fo-"
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention," the emcee interjected, bringing an end to several of the conversation that had been going on. "The bride and groom would appreciate it if you would share in this joyous occasion and bear witness to their first dance."
So much for that idea, internally griped the maid of honor. She mustered her best smile at the sight of Doyle and Paris dancing slowly to the band playing their rendition of David Gray's This Year's Love, the reporter trying desperately to feel happy for her friend while holding back her own tears.
'Turning circles when time comes again,
It cuts like a knife, oh yeah,
If you love me got to know for sure,
Cause it takes something more this time
Than sweet, sweet lies...'
"What if he's not coming?" Rory whispered in horror. I need to check my phone!
"What was that?" Logan inquired.
"Nothing," she rasped. "Excuse me, I need a moment." Before Logan could reply Rory was out the door and down the hall. The almost distraught bridesmaid had made it halfway to the suite where she'd left her belongings when Logan caught up to her again. He barred the way into the dressing room.
"Rory, what's going on?" he asked, concerned.
She shook her head. "It's nothing."
Logan sighed. "Why are you lying to me?"
"Because it doesn't concern you, Logan," Rory answered, her throat thick with emotion. "I just need to check my messages. Please."
"There you two are," Emily called down from the hall. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be supporting your friend right now, Rory?"
"I just want to check my messages," the youngest Gilmore whimpered, feeling like the universe was against her right now.
"Nonsense, Rory. That can wait for later," her grandmother admonished. "Now I expect you and Logan to head back in there. Your best friend only gets married once, you know."
"Yes, grandma," sighed Rory in defeat. "We'll be right in."
"Very good," Emily beamed before turning back to rejoin the celebration.
Now that isn't suspicious at all, the journalist frowned.
"Let's head back in," Logan agreed, his hand now on Rory's lower back in an almost possessive manner. "I think you need to pay a toast soon."
"Whatever," she muttered, not at all happy by this developement. It was becoming more and more obvious that her grandmother had taken advantage of Paris' wedding in order to meddle with Rory's love life. If she hadn't been so caught up in her own muddled thoughts, Rory might have been able to prevent this from happening in the first place. Now Rory was stuck with the uneviable task of fighting off Logan's advances while simultaneously trying to fight off her despair. When they had almost arrived at the entrance, the blonde publishing heir lightly grasped her by the elbow in order to get Rory to pause in her tracks. What now?
"Wait. There's something I need to say before we head in there, Rory," Logan stated, his expression the closest she'd seen it approach earnest. "It's rather important."
Rory let out another sigh of defeat. "Alright, let's get this over with."
"I get why you're being short with me," he continued. "Seeing how I acted last time we saw each other, I don't really blame you either. I was selfish to make you choose between your career or me. It took me the better part of five years to realize that." Logan chuckled in self-deprecation. "In fact, I realize it was the biggest mistake of my life."
The reporter immediately knew where her ex was going with this conversation, but had no idea how to stop it from happening. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. "Logan, I-"
"But when Emily informed me you'd be here, I knew I had to take this opportunity to ask if you'd like to give us another go," he finished like Rory hadn't even spoken. "You know we're meant to be. You're grandmother knows we're meant to be, too. So what do you say, Ace?"
"I...I don't know what to say, Logan," Rory replied, more than a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Can I get back to you on that?"
"Sure, take your time," he smiled. "I'm here all night."
"I need to grab some air," she excused herself. "Could you grab me a drink while I'm doing that?"
Logan nodded. "Sure. I'll see you inside then."
"Yeah, thanks," the panicked maid of honor nodded back. "I'll be right back."
"I'll be waiting," he promised.
When she had finally escaped and arrived outside, Rory let out a deep breath then turned her teary gaze upward at the darkening sky. "Where the hell are you, Marty?"
Danger, Rory Gilmore, danger!