Friday, 12.05.08
The cab ride from PHL was far shorter that Rory had expected, having searched up the exact distance on Google Maps before she even left for her plane. The way she was obsessively reading and re-reading article she had had to write for her interview was most definitely the reason that it took the cab driver telling her they were there for her to notice they weren't moving.
She typed out a text:
[to Jess]: I'm outside.
After forking over the twenty-odd dollars she owed the driver, Rory slid her article back into the special folder and climbed out of the car to grab her suitcase from the trunk. That suitcase was all Rory had needed to bring for the weekend trip, making this the first time in eighteen months that she'd taken a plane with luggage that weighed less than she did. After nearly losing half her clothes in an Iowa airport, Rory was a massive fan of packing light.
Situated on the sidewalk with her bag, Rory took the time to slide her folder into a suitcase pocket before pulling her cellphone out of her jeans and checking if Jess had responded. No such luck.
Rory rolled her bag to the end of the metal green staircase, hesitant to climb to the door of the offices. It had been years since her heels were planted on the same sidewalk, at the end of the same stairs. The ghost of her past was reminding her of feelings she had already abandoned. Her vision blurred by tears, she had stared at the door, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to walk away again if he came after her. Rory had never felt so small as when he didn't.
The memory was enough to bring her to a nervous halt at the bottom step, wondering if it would be too extremely weird to stand in the place where he'd last kissed her. When they talked before, Jess had told her that he would come down to meet her. Maybe he wasn't looking at his phone. In the end, it was the forty degree wind and errant snowflakes managing to sneak past her layers that drove her to walk up the first few steps.
Before she had even made it to the first landing, the door at the top of the staircase flew open to show Jess, calling back to whoever was still inside.
"Just have her email me the poems... No, I can get to them tonight. No big deal. Yeah. Alright, bye!" He let the door shut behind him, zipping his coat while he turned to walk down the staircase.
Rory was surprised to by the warmth in the way he said her name, more surprised by on the way it spread through her frozen finger tips. His voice was nicer than she'd remembered, it sparked a nostalgic fondness that she couldn't get around. It wasn't that she had expected him to be less than pleased to see her, but it was startling to see the change in his body language that came with lending her his focus.
"Hey," Rory breathed, very aware of the sudden smile on her face. It would be believable that the color in her face came from wintry chill. "I didn't know if you got my text."
"Oh, yeah, I got it," Jess nodded, walking down to meet her on the stairs. "Let's throw your stuff in my car," he suggested, bending down to pick Rory's suitcase out of her hand.
"You really don't have to carry it; it isn't that heavy," Rory insisted, watching him hoist the luggage over his shoulder.
"I'll be fine. My car's just down the street," he shrugged, gesturing so that she would walk back down to the street. Rory relented and turned, waiting for him once she got to the sidewalk so that she could follow him to his car.
"How was your flight?" Jess steered Rory to the left.
"It was only an hour long, but I got to see the last twenty minutes of A Few Good Men. Then I got to see the first half of Speed, so all in all: pretty good," she shrugged, watching Jess scan the street for his car. He didn't have any of the wrappings that Rory came prepared with. She was currently wearing her winter coat, a thick scarf and matching hat, and a pair of gaudy pink cat-themed mittens that her mother had gotten her when she was feeling particularly funny. Jess, on the other hand, was wearing a thin-looking quilted jacket.
Snowflakes were getting caught in his thick dark hair.
"How has your day been so far?" Rory asked.
"My day? Oh, it's been so incredibly interesting," Jess teased, fishing his car keys out of his pants while they approached his silver Honda. "First," he said, popping the trunk, "I fixed the broken radiator handle. Then, when the office was no longer a sauna, I called a couple of our writers to talk about deadlines and their lack of ability to meet them - which is always a ball," he slammed the trunk shut with Rory's suitcase tucked between two boxes filled with manila folders. "The rest of the day was filled with oh-so-joyous paperwork."
"So, I should feel terrible about taking you from all of that?" Rory guessed, exaggerating her mock-contrite tone while she proceeded to the passenger-side door.
"Obviously," Jess winked, a smile spreading on his face. He hopped back up onto the sidewalk and started to walk back the way that they had come from. "Come on, catch up." Rory raised an eyebrow, speed-walking to catch up to him.
"I thought we were going to go back to your apartment," Rory puzzled.
"We are. Eventually," Jess said nonchalantly, stepping off the sidewalk and checking for cars before escorting her to the other side. "I want to get lunch first."
"It's only eleven."
"Are you telling me you're not hungry?" Jess challenged, not bothering to suppress his smile.
"Well... maybe I'm a little hungry," Rory admitted. She'd really only eaten before she'd left for the airport.
"There's a diner around the corner that's got good pie. I figured we could get some lunch there before we go?"
"Go where?" Rory asked, tucking her gloves into her armpits to keep her fingers warm.
"I want to show you a few things before we head back to my apartment," Jess explained, pulling open the door of the diner for Rory and letting her in first.
Once inside, Rory pulled off her mittens and her hat, stuffing them into her coat pocket. "What kind of things?"
Jess crossed to the closest empty booth, unzipping his jacket before he sat. "Well," he said, "I know you've been looking at cost of living standards and the tourist-y stuff like the Edgar Allen Poe place, but I think that you're missing things if you're just looking at what Google says about the city."
"I've got an interview tomorrow," Rory protests, sliding into her seat and dropping her hat onto the table.
"I knew I was forgetting something!" Jess faux-groaned, smacking his forehead.
Despite her attempt at a stubborn expression, Rory couldn't stop her lips from twitching up in the corners. "I also know that you've been preparing non stop for this interview. You're all tense and stressed about it; you're gonna overthink things. I know you, Rory. You're more prepared for this interview than the Pope is for the rapture. I just want you to relax a little. You should explore a little, see if you even want to live here when you get the job."
"If," Rory corrected, turning her attention to the waiter that had come to take their drink order. They both got a Coke, Jess's with lemon. Once the waiter had receded back behind the counter, Rory focused back on the topic at hand. "If I get the job. It's not a sure thing, there's five or six other people interviewing as far as I know."
"Those people weren't the valedictorian of a snooty Quaker school. They weren't editor of the Yale Daily News. And they definitely haven't been published in national newspapers six times," Jess insisted, reclining against the back of his bench. He seemed so sure she was already hired.
It was hard not to get her hopes up when she was faced with that sort of unshakable confidence.
"I thought we were just going to your apartment. I made flashcards," Rory explained, lifting her purse where the cards resided.
"They aren't going to quiz you on Philadelphia," Jess said, clearly tickled by the preparation she'd put in.
"No, they aren't. But I'm not from the area and I think the other finalists are. So, I want to have some sort of conversational background knowledge. Plus, they always ask if you have any questions and I want to have questions," Rory explained, turning her attention to the menu. "Would it be incredibly typical of me to order a cheesesteak?"
"Of course it would," Jess nodded. "I'll get one too."
Rory set down the menu, smiling across the table. It was easier to be around him than she'd worried. It was easy to forget that through the dramatic turns of their romantic history that they had been friends. That she was able to really talk to Jess. The had a lot in common.
"Alright. So, I won't keep you from your flashcards for too long, okay?" Jess started, holding a hand up to hold off Rory's apprehensive expression. "I just want to give you some in-person experience with the city. There are five places I want to take you-"
"Five places?"
"-which, under certain circumstances can be narrowed to three," he nodded to Rory's concern, continuing on, "All of which should be over and done with by eight o'clock. Then we come back, get my car, and drive to my apartment where we will order some of the best bad Chinese food you've ever had," Jess nodded. "After that, I'll even help quiz you with your flashcards. I'm not going into work tomorrow until the afternoon, so I'll be around to help prep you in the morning too. Deal?"
Jess's hand extended across the table toward Rory and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Three places, done by eight?" She clarified.
"Three by eight," Jess confirmed with a nod.
Rory shook his hand, surprised by how warm he was to the touch considering how little precautions he took against the weather.
"Your hands are freezing," Jess said, turning his head toward the counter. "Maybe we should get coffee. Yeah?"
"Works for me," Rory nodded, rubbing her hands together for some friction.
Jess slid out of his seat and walked to the counter, leaning in to supposedly ask for two cups of coffee. He was back in no time, bounty in hand.
"No cream, two sugars?" Jess asked, sliding a mug toward Rory.
"Perfect," Rory nodded, gratefully wrapping her fingers around the warm mug. Jess smiled again.
She felt warm.
That bookstore is what Rory Gilmore's ideal hoarding situation would look like. She had, of course, been to many independent bookstores in her day. She couldn't have stopped from shopping for herself while she was on her book hunt for William, causing her to spend the time that others spent at national monuments deep within dusty stacks. Each little shop would have their gimmick, City Lights in San Francisco boasting their publishing relationship to Allen Ginsberg or Basically Books in Cedar Rapids maintaining an incredibly close relationship with the surrounding community.
House Of Our Own Books was nestled inside of a Victorian house just off the edge of Penn State campus. When Jess guided her toward the door, she had to take a second look at the sign to make sure that it was, in fact, a shop. Once inside... well, her mind was made up. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, stacks lining the staircase, and a display just in the front that had some of the most perfectly kitschy book-related paraphernalia. She picked up a pencil case that said 'Designated Reader' and glanced back at Jess.
"Do we really have anywhere else to go?" She joked, looking back at the shop.
"Maybe this should have been the last stop," he chuckled in response.
Two hours later they were leaving with a bag of books that was a severely edited version of the list Rory had originally made. Jess had a slightly smaller bag, mostly attributed to the fact that he could come back whenever he wanted to. By the time they'd gotten seats on the metro, Rory's fingers had gone numb in the cold. Jess took her bags so that she could fumble around in her pockets for her gloves, conveniently forgetting to hand back the bag of books until they were almost arriving at their second destination.
"You don't have to carry my bag. I've gotten pretty strong, carrying around my suitcases. I even brought Luke his toolbox last week," Rory insisted, flexing her muscle. Never mind that they were under a coat and a few other layers.
"Yeah? How is Bert doing these days?" Jess asked evasively, switching Rory's bag to his other hand.
"Hasn't lost any weight, really. Probably gained some with all the baby proofing supplies," she shrugged, sliding to stand on Jess's other side so that she could snake her bag out of his grip. He relented and sighed dramatically.
"I just thought you'd want your hands free for the next place," Jess said, pointing toward the overhanging neon 'M' sign a few storefronts away.
"Mycenaean," Rory read, glancing at Jess. "Very Greek."
"We are in the Athens of America," Jess reminded her, "I'd have expected you to remember that after all your research."
"I shouldn't even bother going to the interview now," Rory sighed, slapping her forehead.
"I wasn't going to say anything but, at this point, that might be wise," Jess agreed, stepping forward to open the door. Rory beat him to it, waving him past her and into the store. He rolled his eyes playfully and walked past her, stomping the snow off his shoes on the way in.
Following after him, Rory took a moment to gaze around the store. She hadn't seen the colorful displays through the frosted glass, but inside it was pretty fantastically vibrant. It vaguely reminded her of the way that Lane decorated her closet while she still lived at home, though this was better lit. It was in the shape of a long hallway, the back half dominated by records and CDs and the front boasting band merchandise; the selection ranged from t-shirts to magnets to posters. In the corner there was a cardboard cut-out, but she wasn't sure that was for sale. It might have just stood there to keep the bored-looking cashier company. She was too invested in her sudoku puzzle to really mind that they were around.
"That's the owner's daughter," Jess murmured, his breath ghosting over her ear. He walked past the racks of clothing and down the center isle, dragging his bare fingertips over the CD cases. Rory broke her focus on Jess, instead deciding to stay around the bits and bobs of merchandise. The whole store seemed to be dominated by Philadelphia-born bands but it seemed that there was an exception for bands that loved the city, judging by the G. Love & Special Sauce buttons. She'd never been that big of a harmonica fan, so she moved on.
Jess seemed focused on finding something, now onto the band of records that hugged the wall. He was definitely searching for something specific.
Rory turned away from him again, facing the rack of hats instead. Her back was to him for now.
She slowly turned the rotating rack of hats, noting the bigger names: The Roots, Hall & Oates, Boys II Men. There were a few knit hats interspersed with the baseball caps. One was particularly ugly: a knit beanie made of sparkly white yarn with a stiff brim and the most gaudy bedazzlement she had ever seen. Big pink, purple, and yellow stones littered the brim while a shiny rainbow flower stood in the center of the hat, turquoise 'leaves' branching out around the crown.
Awful. Fantastically awful. Rory plucked the hat off of its spot on the rack and removed her own, trying the thing on and making a fish-face in the mirror. A model, right there in the flesh.
She turned to look for Jess again, wondering what he thought of the tacky beast, but found him already on his way over with his eyes on the record in his hand. The moment that he looked up at her it seemed that he needed a moment to truly register the grandeur of what she was wearing.
He snorted loudly. "Looks fantastic on you, really," he smirked, pressing his finger down on the brim so that he could see the heart-shaped rhinestones laying there, "Who's this supposed to be?"
Rory shrugged and turned to look back in the little mirror. "No idea. There's not a tag. Think my mother would like it?"
"No idea," Jess shrugged, squishing in to look at the mirror with her. He couldn't keep a straight face long enough to pretend to appraise it.
"This might be just the present for her," Rory laughed, pulling the hat off her head and examining it again. She noticed Jess's hand twitch.
"Your hair's all static-y," he said, looking back at the hat in her hand. She reached up to smooth her head. "You know, I think that the hat is really... well, it's art, isn't it? But I don't think you should give it to your mother."
Rory frowned, turning to Jess. "Really?"
"Yeah," Jess shrugged, holding up the record in his hands. "I think you should give her this."
"Britny Fox," Rory gawped, taking the record and turning it over. "It's signed."
"By all four members," he nodded. "It's a total collector's item. To make up for Belinda."
Belinda. New York. Her mother's graduation present.
She grinned at Jess and then back at the record. "I'm surprised you remember Belinda," she admitted, setting the record down so that she could turn back to the hat rack and replace the bedazzled hat back to where it belonged.
"Of course I remember Belinda. It was a very memorable trip," Jess nodded, retreating back to the rows of CDs. She picked up the record and followed after him, her bag of books hanging off her elbow.
She couldn't think of much else but New York for the hour of browsing through albums. That was a good trip.
It was the right call, to go back to Jess's car. The record alone was expensive enough for Rory to want a safe place for her things but the decision was ratified when the snow started to fall harder. Neither of them wanted to have waterlogged paperbacks and so they took the metro back to Truncheon and packed their things into the trunk with Rory's suitcase.
They were onto their third and final destination, the Ramones playing so loudly that the bass vibrated Rory's seat. As 'I Wanna Be Sedated' came to a close, Rory turned down the volume and turned to face Jess.
"Where are we actually going?" Rory breathed, holding her hands up to the air vents on the dashboard.
"Center City," Jess shrugged, watching as someone with inch-thick frames changed lanes without a signal. The driver in the next lane was not happy judging by the mouthed profanities and three hits of his horn.
"That's like saying we're going to Brooklyn. I need a better estimate for that if I'm getting any sort of picture in my head," Rory pressed, leaning on the center console.
"Sometimes surprises can be fun, you know," Jess said, shooting Rory an amused look. She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap. "It won't be much longer. We just have to go a few more lights and then cross our fingers for a spot in the parking garage."
"I doubt we'll get that lucky with this much traffic," Rory pointed out, watching pedestrians stroll by the car with bags full of what was probably Christmas shopping. She'd only managed to get Luke's present before coming to Philly - yet another mug in his collection of horribly tacky regional coffee mugs - and now she had the Britny Fox record for her mother. She figured that any item of clothing would be superfluous for Will seeing as he was the most well dressed baby she had ever met, courtesy of Emily and Richard Gilmore. Really, getting William anything would be just adding onto the mountain of gifts her brother was going to get from basically everyone they knew.
"You told me I was your good luck charm once," Jess reminded her, pulling away from the intersection at the light change. "Let's hope that still applies."
"I'm pretty sure that only applied to tests," Rory replied, tapping her fingers on the windowsill.
"This is a test of endurance."
That turned out to be not entirely untrue. Jess was on his second full sweep of the garage before he finally found a woman vacating her spot on the fifth level. Sure, it was no where near the elevator and there was a puddle of what might be pee in the corner, but it was better than the packed streets.
"So now we go sight seeing?" Rory asked, an eyebrow perked up.
"Sort of," Jess shrugged, climbing out of the car. Before he or Rory could leave for the elevator, Jess stopped. "Wait, wait. I forgot something," he sighed, snapping his fingers together.
He popped his trunk open and start to rifle through the bags. Rory thought maybe he'd left his wallet in the bag, maybe his cellphone, but once Jess turned around she couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"You bought the hat?"
Jess nodded and held it up to show off the glimmering plastic jewels.
"Consider it an extra Christmas present," he winked, holding it out to Rory. She held up her hands.
"I don't think it would look right on me. Maybe you should wear it," Rory nodded.
"Haven't you ever heard that refusing a gift given in good faith is extremely rude?" Jess jutted out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
"Good faith requires the sincerity of intentions," Rory said, her hands resting on her hips.
"And I sincerely would enjoy seeing you wear this hat," Jess returned.
Rory's nose wrinkled. "Fine." She pulled off her own woolly hat and tossed it into her bag of books. Jess grinned at his victory, handing over the hat and slamming the trunk shut while Rory tugged on her new accessory. It was heavy from the bedazzlement.
She could see in the corner of her eye that Jess was trying to suppress the smile on his face while they walked to the elevator.
"Don't think you've gotten away unscathed," she said, pressing the down button.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jess nodded.
The two of them lapsed into conversation about what other things they were thinking of getting their family members. He'd gotten his stepsister, Lily, a complete collection of Sherlock Holmes short stories and his mother some new jewelry making tools. He expressed some jealousy at Rory's having already checked Luke off her list seeing as he was often difficult to shop for. That row of complaining morphed into another and another until they were bickering about which of Luke's habits was the most peevish. Rory was under the impression that his tendency to wake up at 6 am every morning and mumble-sing while he cooked breakfast was worse than his tendency to toss socks in the general direction of the laundry basket, but Jess disagreed vehemently.
They eventually called it quits, turning the corner so that they were in full view of John F. Kennedy Plaza. It was completely decked out in lights and baubles and corny decorations, all in the name of Christmas.
"Holy..." Rory murmured, looking at the LOVE sculpture over tops of heads. The place was nearly unrecognizable. There had to be a few thousand people mulling around the stalls.
"That would be the idea," Jess nodded. "I'd say that we should try to keep an eye on one another, but I figure that it's pretty easy to find you in a crowd..."
Rory scoffed and nudged Jess's shoulder. "Trust me, I'm on the look out for your hat. Your ears are looking a little pink."
"I sincerely doubt that they sell anything nearly as magnificent here," Jess said confidently, leading Rory into the crowd.
First, they got a mulled wine that was apparently 'glue-wine'- it definitely brought a little heat to her chest. Next, they browsed the traditional food items - she got a homemade gingerbread mix for her grandmother and a surprisingly cheap hand-made pipe for her grandfather that happened to be sold at the next booth over. A little later on, while Jess was examining a row of little snow globes for Doula, Rory bought a hanging astronaut ornament for the tree, a Santa hat glued to the shiny helmet. It wasn't until she was browsing for Paris's gift that she found a truly fantastic item for purchase.
It took all of thirty seconds from the moment she spotted the hat - a red-white-green striped elf hat with big felt pointed ears - to get it fit snuggly onto Jess's head with the adjustable snaps fixed to keep it on tight. A $20 that she felt was well spent before she knew that the little circle on the brim was a button that made the elf ears wiggle.
Equally decked out in clashing garb, they wandered for longer than they originally planned and found themselves eventually stood in a crowd watching people in lederhosen dance something quick and fancy. Rory had her second cup of glue-wine and she was feeling pretty good, only having to find a gift for Kwan and Steve now. Lane had made her promise not to get anything matching, insisting that her boys would be able to 'cultivate their individuality' in a way that she never had. It was just a little difficult to really play to their preferences when all either of them could say was about 40 words, half in Korean, and most often spoken being 'ball' and 'no'.
Jess thought that she should get them onesies from feuding bands, Metallica and Tool or Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynyrd, something classic but totally not matching. Plus, Lane couldn't get mad at good bands.
As one of the dancers pulled a woman from the crowd, Rory turned to really look at Jess. His nose was a little red from the cold, as were the tips of his ears. That hat looked incredibly stupid on him and it quirked up the corners of her mouth. The deep umber of his eyes was reflecting the hanging lights around them, making them shine like sun through honey. He turned to her with a grin, quirking an eyebrow at her. Smoothly, Rory turned her attention back to the performance.
There was a sense of burgeoning pride in her chest every time she really took a moment to look at Jess Mariano. She remembered when she was 17 and in love with him and she thought she was seeing him for the last time in her life, never mind that she would always know Luke and he would always be Luke's nephew. In that moment, watching him walk away from her bus, she'd wondered if he was going to turn back into the kid that had to be sent out of the city in the first place.
Half a decade later, she was stood next to a guy that had his shit even more pulled together than hers. She wondered idly what he would have been had he been backed by Emily and Richard Gilmore.
He'd have gotten the New York Times internship, that's the least of it.
"Let's go home," she said, pulling back her sleeve to check her watch. 7:30.
"What's that?" Jess asked, turning toward Rory.
"Let's go back to your place? I'm getting hungry and you promised Chinese," she reminded him, turning to slip her way through the crowd behind them. She could tell without looking that Jess was right on her heels.
"I thought we were going to take another shot at getting a gift for Paul Anka," Jess said, touching Rory's shoulder to guide her in the right direction.
"I already have a gift for Paul Anka," She replied, "I'm actually good at Christmas shopping, unlike some people."
"You got him a sweater. He has sweaters," Jess pointed out.
"He doesn't have a sweater that matches perfectly with Lorelai's," Rory nodded, lifting the bag that held both bright blue ugly Christmas sweaters. The woman who made them was good at what she did. Luke would hate them.
"Luke is not going to be a fan of those," Jess sighed, pressing the crosswalk button and stuffing his cold hands into his pockets.
"Trust me, I know. It's why I didn't get one for him. And there was a discount if you got three," she laughed.
He laughed, "Lorelai isn't going to be a fan of that."
"It's why no one will tell her. For Luke's sake. And for William's," Rory nodded, stepping into the street. Her food slipped a bit in the slush, but before she could fall prey to the weather, she righted herself. She loved snow as much as-... Well, maybe not as much as her mother, but as much as any normal Connecticut-dweller did. It was the slush she couldn't stand, when the pristine white scenery was turned grey and sloppy. Winter went on too long, it should always go directly to the budding flowers.
She expressed her opinions on wintertime to Jess while they walked the way to his car, which turned into him saying something pretentious that made her giggle; "The only way that we know it's beautiful is because we're made to wait for the beauty. Otherwise everything would be beautiful and we wouldn't know what we should value. We wouldn't know how we feel without it."
Rory punched him in the arm and blamed the poets he worked with for the flowery language.
Once in the car, Rory fished her portable CD player from her purse and popped it open. Before Jess could so much as ask what she was trying to play, she was cranking up the BRMC and pulling off her gloves to hold her fingers in front of the warm air vents.
Jess turned down the volume to tell her to put her seat belt on, but Rory only turned it back up and sang (badly) along to the track. She did buckle her seat belt, though. She could tell that it amused Jess.
Jess backed out of his elevator with his hands up, almost like he was trying to convince a crazy with a gun not to shoot him.
"I'm sorry, I just don't know what happened to you," He sighed, turning away from Rory so that he could walk down the hall toward his apartment.
"Nothing happened to me, Jess. I didn't commit some mortal sin," She groaned, dragging her suitcase over the weirdly discolored area rug.
"When we met, you had William Faulkner and Eudora Welty on your shelves. You were like a high member of literary society and now?" He teased, setting down their books to find his keys and open the door.
"Now you're acting like a total snob?" Rory suggested, leaning against the door frame.
"No, now you're reading Twilight," Jess said, unlocking the door and pushing it open for Rory before picking up the bags.
"Did I say that Stephanie Myers was my favorite author? No, I said that her writing was a window into the way she thinks," Rory rolled her eyes, stepping into the apartment.
"You said we should go see the movie when it comes out," Jess replied, entering after her. "You can just drop your stuff by the couch, I've still got to fix your bed."
"I thought my bed was the couch," Rory said, collapsing down into the couch with her things.
"I'm an adult, Rory," Jess rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen.
"What does that have to do with anything?" She laughed, letting her hair out of the ponytail she'd had it in.
"You don't think I have more than one couch?" He asked, reappearing with a beer in each hand.
"Oh my god, you are a real life adult," Rory gasped, reaching out to accept the beer. She wasn't going to get much studying done, three drinks in. But she figured that she'd managed to go to class after more than this. Jess was right that she was prepared and she definitely didn't want to come off like someone they wouldn't want to work with. The rapport she'd built with the few people she had talked to over the phone was good enough for her to know she could relax a little. At least until she woke up the next day and started to study.
"Surprisingly enough, I am," Jess nodded, dropping onto the other end of the couch. He kicked his socks up onto the coffee table and closed his eyes while he sipped at his drink. It was still a little weird to see him drink, like she should be worried that he was going to get caught.
She curled her legs up onto the couch and looked around the apartment. The walls were either a painted dark forest green or left as exposed brick, decorated with a miscellaneous bunch of art which didn't go together and made Rory think that each piece was an individual gift. She didn't really see him buying the painting of a duck in rain boots and a bucket hat. It was cute, but not exactly Jess Mariano-esque.
"Where are the books?"
"The books?" Jess echoed.
"Your books. Where are they? Your bedroom?" Rory could see about ten in total in the entire room. Jess's version of sugar, spice, and everything nice included almost as many books as there were in the Harvard library.
Jess nodded and swallowed a mouthful of beer before straightening up and setting his bottle down on the coffee table. "They're in my office."
"You have an office? I thought you all sat together," Rory remembered the way he'd described their desk clusters when she'd been in the office.
"Not at work, my home office," he explained, standing and walking toward the frosted glass french doors that were a few feet from his end of the couch. Rory didn't realize that that wasn't actually his bedroom until she watched from over his shoulder as he pulled open the doors.
"That would be the books," Rory nodded, staring at the impressive collection with a pure sense of appreciation. Two of the walls were covered in built-in floor-to-ceiling shelves that were filled not only with books but with a pretty impressive collection of music and other memerobilia. She picked up a carved wooden swan and turned it over in her hands.
"A present from Luke," Jess explained, perching on the edge of the desk that stood in the back center of the office. She set down the carving and instead focused in on the furniture. There was a chair squished against one of the shelves and a table rested awkwardly behind the couch by the window.
"You know, I was never under the impression that you were an interior decorator. But this is a little... avant garde," she teased, sitting on the arm of the leather chair.
"This is your bed," he replied, rolling his eyes. Jess stood and stripped the couch of its cushions, revealing the pullout underneath. She clapped for him, winking when he shot her an exasperated look. Within the minute, she had a bed. A bed with no pillows or blankets, but it did have an interestingly patterned set of sheets.
"Why do you have flowers and geese and horses on your bed sheets?" Rory asked, leaning in to examine the little cartoons.
Jess sighed, stepping around the bed and sliding behind her so that he could leave the room. "Well, I had a conversation with TJ," he started, as so many fun stories did. She followed him toward the kitchen, sitting on the bar stool at the peninsula. "He was talking about doing something for his anniversary with Liz, so I figured that I'd volunteer to help him because I have some ticket scalping friends that owe me a few- you know, from when I was a hoodlum?" Rory nodded and gestured for him to continue while he pawed through a drawer on the other side of the counter. "Well, I told him that he should ask her what type of musical she'd like to go to, since she's all about pretending to be cultural, and it lead to me telling him that a lot of great musicals come from books. Les Miserables, Oliver Twist, Phantom of the Opera-"
"Cats," Rory added.
"Yeah, Cats," Jess scoffed, shaking his head and pulling out a few brightly colored pamphlets. "Anyway, it got him to think that I am a massive fan of the theater."
"I cannot say that I couldn't see you being the next Leo Bloom," Rory shrugged, taking the take-out menus from Jess when he slid them across the counter.
"That's only because you think it would be funny to see me in a stuffy suit like that," Jess accused, leaning on the counter with his elbows.
"No, I think you'd look just fine in a suit," Rory shrugged, looking over the menu. There were more options than at Al's Pancake House, at least. She hummed softly, scanning until she found something that she knew she liked and something she thought that she wouldn't. "I want sweet and sour pork and a salmon skin and cabbage salad," she said, sliding the menu back to Jess.
"Well, fine. But you're gonna want to use floss after that," he muttered, turning to pick his home phone off the counter. "Long story short, TJ can't be bothered to read a bunch of books with his busy schedule. What he can manage is to rent all of the movie adaptations of musicals for their weekly date night. Those sheets are a result of their Julie Andrews kick."
"Well, I don't doubt that they are one of your favorite things," Rory smirked, folding her arms on the counter and resting her chin on them while she waited for him to order their food.
Saturday 12.06.08
Three hours and forty-seven minutes passed between the time the food arrived and when Rory opened her eyes from what felt like a very long blink. Slowly, she raised her wrist to her eyes so that she could read the time: 12:18. It felt much later.
Slowly and with hesitation, Rory forced herself to sit up and take stock. She had fallen asleep during the Truman Show, probably close to an hour ago considering that Juno was playing on the television. She and Jess had sat propped against opposite arms of his couch while they ate horrible amounts of Chinese food and barely listened to what was happening on the television. He must have covered her with the throw blanket because she didn't remember pulling it down over herself.
Speaking of, Jess was curled at the other end of the couch, trying not to encroach on her space judging by the way he was curled tightly around a throw pillow. It was probably his snoring that woke her up in the first place.
She dragged her feet to the floor and stood, stretching her arms out and letting out a yawn. Turning back to the couch, she could see that Jess's leg had already extended to take her place. Rory carefully fished the blanket out from under his stretched leg, adjusting it so that it covered him from toe to mid-chest. With a gentle hand, she moved his head out of the awkward angle it rested in and then turned back to the coffee table. The two had managed to cover the table in take out boxes and the generic paper bags food deliveries come in. She gathered the many superfluous soy sauce packages and other garbage into one bag, bringing it to the kitchen peninsula before returning to the couch and turning off the lamp nearby.
Rory gathered her cellphone and charger from her purse before receding into the office area by the glow of her screen. She slid the frosted french doors shut before turning on the overhead light and re-situating herself. Glad that she'd already moved her bag to the office, she changed into her fuzzy pajama bottoms and a baggy shirt moving to peel back her covers.
Before she could sandwich herself into the layers, Rory saw her phone screen light up with a text alert. No one messaged her this late at night.
[from Mom]: I hope this doesn't wake you - your brother just went to sleep. Just wanted to say that I hope your trip is going well and that you aren't too stressed. You're going to blow them away tomorrow. Just make sure you take a few deep breaths.
A fond warmth spread under Rory's skin.
[to Mom]: That kid's giving you a run for your money. Not asleep yet, on my way there. Thanks for the pep talk.
[from Mom]: Call me if you want a pep talk, that was nothing. Is everything going okay in Philadelphia?
[to Mom]: Everything's great. Got some Christmas shopping out of the way and Jess showed me some cool shops.
[from Mom]: You two are having fun?
[to Mom]: Why wouldn't we be?
That was probably a stupid question, but Rory wanted to make it clear that she wasn't worried about Jess. Even if there was a sorta-weird undercurrent, they could manage it. Or at least they could fake it until it went away.
Sometimes, when they were just talking about nothing, she forgot that they were anything but an uncomplicated pair of friends.
[from Mom]: Call me tomorrow, alright? I'm on my way to bed. I want to hear from you as soon as you step out of the interview, no bathroom breaks. Got it?
[to Mom]: Got it.
She thanked her mother for letting the issue go. That wasn't really Lorelai's strong suit.
[from Mom]: I love you, kid. Break a leg.
[to Mom]: I'll break them both to be safe. Love you too. Sleep good.
[from Mom]: Back atcha.
Rory set her phone down and laid back, looking up at the few slivers of light coming through the curtains. She didn't really want to lie to her mother and say that she didn't understand the question, but that didn't mean she wanted to verbally acknowledge the context. She was ready to have a normal relationship with Jess, or at least as normal of a relationship as she could possibly have with him. She rolled onto her side and pulled down her second pillow so that she could spoon it.
What did she really want from Jess after all this time? That question made her groan into the pillow, her frustration seeping out. She should be asleep and instead she was imagining the way he'd looked when she left him in the living room, his hair flopping over his forehead and his mouth gaping slightly. She could hear the muffled sound of his snores through the doors, drilling into her already stressed consciousness. He was unavoidable in this space.
Be that as it may, she still had an interview in the morning. Instead of allowing herself to stress about whether or not she should be thinking of him, Rory allowed her mind to wander. She drifted off, wondering what it would be like between them the next time they were together for the holidays. Would she ever think of him as family?
"October 29, 2008?" Jess prompted between sips of coffee, flipping his hair out of his face so that he could read Rory's cramped writing.
"Brad Lidge strikes out Eric Hinske of the Tampa Bay Rays and wins the World Series. Hinske had previously shown himself to be able to stand up to Lidge's abilities but was unable to come through in game five," Rory said, regurgitating the information that she knew was on the card in his hand.
"That's right, though I don't know how it would come up in an interview for a review column," Jess said, flipping to the next flashcard. "From what I know, no one in that department really cares about sports."
"Well, maybe someone in the support staff cares about sports," Rory shrugged, "sometimes the interviewer has a secretary talk to the applicants and weed out the ones that would be no fun to work with. If that secretary is a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies-"
"Then you're in," Jess finished, glancing up from the card in his hand to avoid walking into a man loudly speaking into his bluetooth about something to do with Margaret.
"Poor Margaret... What's up next?" She asked, turning her eyes to the shop fronts so that she didn't accidentally see what was left.
"You can find pieces of Einstein's brain in...?"
"The Mütter Museum," Rory completed, glancing at the card and confirming her correct answer before Jess could manage.
"Seriously?" He asked, wrinkling his nose at her.
"Yeah, seriously. There's a liver that Siamese twins shared and a nine foot colon, too," She said as they rounded their last corner. She stopped thirty feet from the front door.
Jess read the last card, "Albert C. Barnes, after dying in 1951, said that his artworks-"
"Must remain exactly where they are. But then they were moved to a museum in the same configuration that they'd been before being moved, so the spirit of the request was still being carried on," Rory smiled.
"Crazy old man," Jess sighed, handing the two inch stack of cards back to Rory so that she could hide them in her purse again. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling good," she nodded. "How do I look?"
"Very professional," Jess responded, smiling. "Except, y'know, for the lipstick all over your teeth."
Rory gasped, quickly turning to use the window beside them as a mirror. Jess chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder to pull her back around to face him. Once she was staring him in the eye, he rested his coffee-carrying hand on her other shoulder and leaned in to stare her in the eye.
"Rory Gilmore, you are ready for this. You look good, you are smarter than just about anyone besides maybe those pieces of Einstein in that weird museum, and everyone else is going to suck compared to you if they don't already," He said, his voice measured.
"You think they suck?" Rory breathed, her eyes wide and locked onto his.
"I know they suck. Now, do you want the rest of my coffee or are you already buzzing?"
"No, no. I don't want coffee breath," She shook her head, turning to look at the front door she was meant to march through, the door to a fairly nice Italian restaurant.
"Now. Be cunning, and full of tricks, and you will never be destroyed," he said, marching with her to the front door.
"I'm not about to fight for my survival," Rory rolled her eyes.
"Do or Do Not. There is no try?" Jess suggested, stopping a few feet from the door so that she could walk in alone.
"Close enough, Yoda."
Jess held up his free hand to salute her. "Let's go kick some extraterrestrial ass."
She cracked a smile and half-heartedly saluted back. "Oh Captain, my Captain."
Jess stayed in place on the sidewalk, watching until Rory slipped through the second set of glass doors and walked out of his field of vision. An onlooker might have thought he was just pausing to finish his coffee and toss it in the nearby bin before he had to walk back to his car. Had Rory looked over her shoulder, even she wouldn't have recognized his expression.
She had missed it too many times
"D'you know when Louis is coming back?" Matt asked, tossing a piece of paper across the room only to let it bounce off the backboard that was the side of Jess's desk.
"No idea. He said that he was helping his friend do something," Jess shrugged, leaning over to grab the balled up paper and drop it into the wastebasket by his desk. His was the only one that wasn't already overflowing with the same. Apparently he had missed an epic tournament while he was taking the morning off.
"Pretty sure that friend is a girlfriend," Madeline responded, kicking her feet up onto her desk and shoving a pencil into her ponytail for safekeeping. She tended to be more insightful than the rest of them, but he still found that there was some room for doubt when it came to her emotional intelligence. She wasn't yet omnipotent, but was very possibly on her way there.
"I'll bite. What makes you think Louis has a girlfriend?" Chris asked, tossing a ball to Jess's desk and missing by an entire foot. He wasn't as good at the game. He tended to lose their bets.
Madeline shrugged and rested her legal pad in her lap. "He got a bunch of new dress shirts, a new jacket, and he hasn't missed a spot shaving in almost two weeks."
"Maybe he's taking a run at Jess's title," Chris responded, winking at Jess. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his work.
Over a period of about two months, Jess had somehow managed to attract four out of the seven prospective authors that he'd met. This then started a joke betting pool as to whether or not the writers would have the hots for him. He was glad to say that most of them did not have any interest in him, but his grand total of date offers that he received by Christmas earned him the little trophy that sat on his desk: a blue column with a tennis player posed on top and a plaque that read:
Hottest in the office (2008)
JESS MARIANO
He kept it on the desk because it made him feel a little bit like the high school athlete who was past his prime.
"Nah, Louis hates attention - unlike Jess," she smirked, setting her feet down. "I'm telling you, guys. He's got a girlfriend and I think he's really into her."
"Well, then I hope we get to meet her. Maybe then you guys'll stop bugging me," Jess grumbled, acting the part of the group grump.
"We'll never forget about you, you lovely man," Matt grinned. "Who else would keep track of the coffee creamer?"
"Or the roladex or your keys," Jess continued for him, doing his best to actually focus on the work he was supposed to be doing.
"Well, yeah. You're invaluable, obviously."
"Now, now. Boys, you're both gorgeous. Stop arguing or you'll upset mother," Chris interjected, standing and grabbing his jacket. "I'm starved. Does anyone else want to go to Frank and Mary's?"
"I'm down if you buy me pie," Madeline responded, dropping her shoes to the floor.
"I'll buy you pie - Matt? Jess? Are you to be enticed by pie?" Chris asked.
"If by pie, we mean a donut, I am," Matt agreed, standing and crumpling up a post-it note to toss in Jess's general direction. The thing landed on his desk and skidded into his stack of books before falling to the ground.
"We do not mean a donut, but there will be pie," Chris responded. Matt groaned dramatically, but trudged toward the door where his coat was hanging despite the disappointment. "Jess?"
"No, I already missed the morning. I figure I'll order something and get my work done while I still can," Jess explained, waving off his friends.
"Yes, you're on call for step-mommy dearest, aren't you?" Matt teased, pulling on his gloves.
"The Mrs. Robinson of rural Connecticut," Madeline suggested, heading for the door.
"You spend too much time with books," Jess complained, picking up and tossing the post-it ball in the group's general direction.
"Are you kidding? You're our resident Matilda!" Matt laughed, opening the door so that the others could step out before him.
"Shut up and go eat your pie," Jess said, waving while Matt disappeared out of the office.
And finally, quiet. The only noise was coming from the radiator and the little fan that Madeline kept on her desk. Jess needed another cup of coffee. He grabbed his empty Maxine mug and crossed toward their little kitchen, humming single notes that didn't belong to any song in particular. For now, he was doing a run down of all the things that he had on his desk. There were two writers waiting to hear back from him, one on a book of short stories and the other just needing a kick in the pants so that they hit their deadline. He supposed he could make the call first, but he wasn't sure if he could really be the disciplinarian that he needed to be for that type of phone call. There was a thin line between motivation and being a dick that he hadn't learned to tightrope walk yet. He could wait until Louis was back, at least. He was good at that stuff, if the worst happened he could walk Jess through the minefield.
By the time he'd gotten back to his desk, Jess had decided that he would make the call when the office was full. That way he wouldn't be able to fuck it up. He remembered how hard it had been for him to meet the deadlines when he was editing his own book, the main part already having been written. He didn't love to be the one demanding more from writers who were trying their hardest.
Instead of waiting around for company, Jess delved into his work email. His inbox was sadly unkempt, the spam filters having done nothing to decrease the amount of holiday deals he was being made aware of. By the time he came up for air, having cleared all of the two hundred thirty-seven notifications, his half finished drink was room temperature and his cellphone was absolutely and utterly dead.
"Shit," he grumbled, fumbling in his desk for the charger. He'd probably missed Rory's call and she was probably stranded in downtown Philly. Sure, she could go back to the apartment, but she couldn't get in. Checking the time basically confirmed the fact that he'd dropped the ball: it was almost 3:45. He was supposed to hear from her an hour ago.
In the interim, Jess started to clean up his desk. He organized his papers, left a sticky note on his desk phone that said 'CALL NADIA ASAP', and walked his "I My Attitude Problem" mug back to the kitchen. He tidied up for a good five minutes, still cursing himself while he did so. He couldn't remember how many tokens Rory had been left with after their trips the day before... He shook his head. She was an adult, why was he so worried? Maybe she didn't even call him.
Once his Razr was back on, Jess found that the screen boasted three text messages and one phone call, all from Rory. Fantastic.
[from Rory]: Tried calling, you're probably busy. Call when you can.
[from Rory]: So, I'm sitting in a Starbucks right now. There's a woman with two laptops and an absolutely ridiculous amount of highlighters. She's either very important or imagines herself to be.
[from Rory]: Update. She's writing a screenplay.
All three text had come in twenty minute intervals, starting at 1:37. The interview and subsequent phone calls must have passed more quickly than Rory had estimated. Hopefully that was a good thing.
[to Rory]: Sorry, I got distracted by work. I can come pick you up as soon as you're ready to leave.
He wanted to run down to his car and drive back toward the place he'd left Rory earlier, but he knew that there was a slim chance she was still waiting around for him there. Maybe she'd gone shopping again. Or maybe she was still in the Starbucks she'd found, going over the play-by-play of the interview the way that a football coach watched the instant replay to find flaws in form. Instead of worrying himself or wandering the streets to search for a fully capable adult, Jess slumped back into his desk chair and fiddled with his phone. Maybe he could beat his high-score on Space Invaders while he waited.
No, he wouldn't waste the time that he had in the office. He was going to ignore work for the greater part of the day ad he had to be efficient while he could. At least now, he would have his ringer on. Jess's efficiency was hampered by the fact that he was glancing at his cellphone once every minute or so. Despite that fact, he managed to finish his third read-through of a short story on his desk, sliding the corrected version into a pre-addressed manila envelope and then dropping it into the office outbox all within twenty-three minutes.
Jess was celebrating the small achievement by organizing the piles of paper on his cluttered desk when he heard the office door open. A moment later, Louis stepped out of the 4x4 "lobby" area accompanied by a young woman dusted with a thin layer of snow.
"Hey, I thought I was supposed to pick you up," Jess said, standing so that he could meet Rory and Louis by the door.
"Oh, you were. But I figured you were too busy to check your phone, so I just took the metro. I got a little lost on the way here from the station, but it turned out that I asked the right person for directions," Rory explained, taking off her gloves before jabbing her thumb in Louis's general direction.
"Yeah, I found her two blocks down," Louis agreed, walking toward his desk so that he could sort through a folder left on top of his inbox.
"And I would have frozen into a popsicle if he hadn't walked by when he did," Rory laughed, unwrapping her scarf to reveal the redness in her cheeks. She did look half-frozen. Jess felt guiltly.
"Well, do you want some cocoa? Coffee?" Jess asked, stepping back toward the kitchen. Rory waved her hand to stop him.
"No, I've had a lot of coffee. If I have anymore I'm going to turn into my mother," Rory joked, finally taking a moment to look around the office space. This was the first time she'd been there while the desks were in place. The last time, a time that neither of them seemed eager to discuss, the desks had all been squished into both the kitchen and the weirdly large closet that they kept their bikes in when the weather was warm.
"We should head out, then. There's supposed to be a few inches of snow coming down within the next few hours and I don't want to get stuck with people who don't know how to handle the weather," Jess said, going back to grab some things from his desk before leaving. Taking his bag from the floor, he packed away his cellphone, a small folder of work, and his portable calendar before shrugging on his quilted coat. "You can tell me all about the interview on the way home."
"Don't you have a winter jacket that's better than that?" Rory asked, "You lived in New York for years."
"Then I moved to California," he reminded her, his gut wincing at the fact that he'd said it so nonchalantly. Rory didn't seem to mind, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention toward Louis.
"Thanks again, by the way. Did I ever ask your name?" Rory crossed the room, hand outstretched for Louis to shake. He looked up from the papers in his hands, surprised to find her speaking to him. He often was far too engrossed in his work to really hear what anyone had to say to him.
"Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'm Louis," he responded, shaking her hand.
"Rory," she responded with a smile.
Through some sort of luck, Rory had managed to turn her head just in time to miss the moment of realization on Louis's face. His head swiveled toward Jess, an eyebrow cocked. Jess supposed that up until that moment, he hadn't put much thought into who Rory was. He definitely hadn't been paying attention to any dropped clues as to who Rory was up until that moment, but Jess saw the gears turning behind his eyes.
Not only was this Rory, the Rory that had come to their open house and put him into what Madeline called "a mood" for almost a solid month, Louis was working his way back through their conversation and realizing that this was Lorelai. Lorelai, the author. Lorelai, the supposed wife of his uncle Luke. Lorelai, the woman he had pulled strings to get an interview for.
Without breaking eye contact, Jess subtly shook his head. He would most definitely hear about the deception later, that even though he didn't explicitly tell them which Lorelai he was hosting for the weekend, he had never actually told anyone that there were two Lorelais. The only Lorelai that Jess's Truncheon family was explicitly aware of was the one that had a history of dissatisfaction with his character.
Not a moment later than necessary, Jess was muttering a quick goodbye and ushering Rory out to find his car.
He could feel his cellphone buzzing through his bag, alerting him to a quick series of incoming text messages.
"I just want you to know that this is the first and only time that Indian food will be entering this apartment," Jess said, kicking the door shut on his way to the kitchen. "And the only reason it's here now is because you crushed your interview."
Rory rolled her eyes good-naturedly . "They still have to like what I've written. I bet at least one out of the other four had a good interview." Ever the realist, Rory was. Jess knew that even if she did sound calm and measured about her very real possibility of getting a dream job, she couldn't hide the shine in her eyes or the bounce in her step. While she was fishing her food out of the large paper bag, he could see the ghost of a smile on her lips.
"I'll put away my pom-poms for now, but I can't promise that Luke will do the same," Jess teased, picking out the dish he'd ordered once Rory was moving back toward the couch.
"What do you know about Luke's pom-poms?" Rory asked, dragging a blanket over her curled up legs before digging into what looked like the butter chicken.
Jess whistled. "You don't know Luke Danes, do you?" Jess asked, ripping off a few paper towels before joining her in the living room. He sat on the ground by the couch, opening his container to eat. "He texted me a little while ago asking if you were over exaggerating how well it went to make your mother happy. When I told him that you killed it he sounded like he was going to break into song."
"That would be very Snow White of him," Rory murmured, swallowing a mouthful of food before reaching for the remote.
"I dunno. If I had to choose a princess for Luke, I'd choose Mulan for him," Jess shrugged.
"Mulan's not even really a princess, though."
"Yeah, but she's on the official list. And he's just as stubborn as she is."
Rory shrugged, conceding to his judgement. Instead of focusing on the casting of Luke as a Disney princess, she focused on sorting through the droves of reruns and half finished movies. For a solid three minutes, they argued whether it would be better to watch The Room or Ishtar and eventually settled that while both were incredibly bad movies, settling on the latest Hallmark movie. As expected, it was about a woman who moves to a small town to help her father's struggling business and ends up abandoning her crazy-successful job for an incredibly dull real life Ken doll. They could both agree that it would be better at getting them in the Christmas spirit. Plus, they didn't mind missing a few lines of dialogue while they were complaining about the shaky plot.
"I just can't see anyone with half a brain leaving a penthouse on Central Park West to live in a two bedroom fixer-upper," Jess insisted.
"You're telling me that you wouldn't ask the bananas-rich woman you fell in completely in love with over the course of thirty-six hours to move in with you?"
"Not a chance!" Jess laughed, stealing a pillow from under Rory's feet so that he could shove it between his back and the couch. When Rory whined at the change, he turned again to fluff the pillow she had left. Rory nodded to him, waving for him to continue talking. "If I had the luck to trick a woman that smart and successful into thinking she was in love with me, I wouldn't ask her for anything. Except maybe a new stereo for my car."
Rory snorted, rolling her eyes at the joke. "She's an executive, right? The youngest something or other at her nondescript company? There's no way she's giving that up to do different nondescript work in a town less exciting than Stars Hollow."
"Is it less exciting though?"
"Are you kidding?" Rory asked, sitting up as though what she had to say was very important. "We're finally down to the last two possibilities for Kirk's big proposal; he's having people call his mom to vote on whether a new short film or a troop of skydivers in jumpsuits that spell 'Lulu, will you marry me?' falling from the sky on her birthday."
"Is it bad that I'd really like the skydivers to win?"
"It's what I voted for," Rory admitted, shrugging. "I figure the rest of the town will balance me out. And even if they don't, I don't see Kirk being able to afford hiring twenty skydivers."
"I guess that's what they mean when they say "small town charm", huh?"
"We are a charming bunch," Rory confirmed.
"Not for long," Jess reminded her, a grin spreading on his face.
"Again, we don't know that I got the job."
"Maybe you didn't," Jess agreed, "But, even if that's true, you'll get another job at another big paper and you'll kick ass in a different city. Doesn't have to be Philadelphia. You could intern for the Tribune or the Herald or even take another shot at the Times. Any of them would be lucky to have you."
After a few seconds of silence, Jess turned from the television to see whether or not Rory had really been listening. He didn't think it was possible that she was caught up in the swell of the copyright free romantic music, but maybe she hadn't even taken in the words of encouragement he'd offered. The way she worried the edge of the blanket betrayed the relatively calm and unaffected look on her face. Something he had said made her anxious.
"What's wrong?"
Rory looked down at him, her expression still unmoved. "I'm just not sure that I want to go to New York right now."
"Why not?" Jess wondered, turning his body from the TV to give her concerns his unfettered attention.
"Well... I love New York. The whole culture is amazing and intoxicating and I think that it would be great to be able to stay there. It's just that - don't take this wrong, but it's too close to home." The look on her face read like she expected Jess to protest or point out that she usually loved being around family, nearly surprised when he didn't move to speak. "I love my grandparents and my mother and my brother. I love the whole Stars Hollow, really. I just don't want to be able to rely on it as a safety net. I don't want to have a bad day and drive home to cry to my mother. I definitely don't want to tell my grandparents when something goes wrong, either. I can only imagine the mighty Richard Gilmore telling some editor that he should be 'proud to have a Gilmore in their midst'."
"It's nice that they would go to bat for you though, isn't it?" Jess suggested, disliking the anxiety sketched into her diamond blue eyes.
"Yeah, of course it's nice. They're nice. I've used a lot of the support they offered me in the past and that's the problem. I don't want to have a bad day at work and go back to living in the pool house or working for the DAR. New York is only about two hours from home and if I stay that close... I dunno. Maybe I'm being over-paranoid. I just want to make sure that no one can say I'm not standing on my own two feet," Rory finished.
There was a swell in Jess's chest, his pride in her persnaol advancements warming him. It wasn't all that long ago that she'd been dropped out of Yale and now she was ready to at least try and take on the world.
"If you do end up moving to Philly, I can show you all the cool spots. And the tourist traps, if you really want," he indulged, knowing full well that Rory would want to go see all the historical sites. She was persistently and charmingly academic. He imagined that, once he got over the fact that Jess had lead him to believe she was a forty year old that had recently had a baby, Louis would really like her.
For a breath, Jess's rib cage felt harshly tight.
To know that Louis might see exactly what drew Jess's attention... Well, it was a nasty realization that there was a difference between not longing for someone and being comfortable watching them fall for one of your close friends. To calm himself, Jess pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth while he breathed through the tenderness. He had to actually listen to what Rory was talking about, after all. It's what a good friend would do.
Plus, Louis might already have a girlfriend.
"-plus, I figure that if anyone can figure out if there's a real National Treasure treasure hunt, it's us," Rory said, shooting Jess a conspiratorial wink. "I should know before the fifteenth, so I'll keep you updated. Before I really start making those plans, I should probably focus on finding an apartment. Do you know anybody looking for a roommate?"
"Roommate?" Jess echoed, currently unable to think of a single human being he knew that wasn't in the room with him. "No, I don't. But I haven't really been looking. I'll keep my ear to the ground."
"Good man," Rory nodded, digging into the second dish of food. Jess gave her a smile, the corners feeling rubber-band-tight. He didn't think she would notice, she wasn't particularly focused on looking at him.
This was the first time in a long while that he wished she was. Jess didn't like the feeling.
He would have to manage the whole mess before she came back.
Sunday, 12.07.18
"If I don't end up getting the job, I'll just send the bag back with Luke when he comes up in January," Rory said, pushing the building door open with her hip so that Jess could slip past her. In his hands were the leftover presents and books she'd bought, the ones that couldn't be stuffed into her one suitcase.
"Don't worry about it. Luke gave me a billion of the reusable shopping bags, I can manage to lose the ones that have farm animals," Jess shrugged, stepping into the street to put the bags into the trunk of the waiting cab.
Rory trailed behind, dropping her suitcase next to the two shopping bags and slamming the trunk shut. There was only a breath of pregnant pause before Rory sighed loudly to break it.
"Thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I really owe you big time," Rory beamed, not sure how to take Jess's mostly blank expression. He must have been preoccupied by thoughts, as a return smile spread on his face.
"I wouldn't turn you away. Friends let friends crash on their couch when they're interviewing for a dream job," he responded, stepping onto the curb so that he could beat her to opening the car door. Taking the hint and realizing that he must already be late to work, Rory followed suit.
"It still have to thank you. Not everyone has such a nice couch."
"The couch is fantastic," Jess agreed, again leaving dead air hanging between them. Unsure of what else to say, Rory dove into a quick and unexpected hug, at least judging by the way that Jess responded to it. She could still feel his body heat against her cheek with his coat between them. After his obvious surprise, Jess briefly squeezed her back and the moment was over. She wondered if her cheeks were tinged pink.
"I'll talk to you before Christmas, right?" He asked.
"Yeah, we'll talk," she nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I know about the job- oh!"
Rory felt almost idiotic, thrashing her hand around in her purse in search of the little package. Her gloved fingers dragged over the smooth wrapping paper and she pulled out her present to Jess. The wrapping was poor and crumpled, dancing menorahs decorating the blue and white background.
"Merry Christmas. Wait to open it, alright?" she demanded, sliding into the cab.
"Whatever you say," Jess chuckled, safely pushing the little present into his pocket.
"I'm serious."
"And you seriously have to get going. You have a flight to catch."
"Yeah, yeah," Rory sighed. "I'll text you, alright?"
"I'll respond."
With that, Jess shut the door and stepped away, waving at her through the semi-fogged glass. Sitting at the stop light on that very block, Rory relented to her curiosity and used the passenger side rear view mirror to peak back and watch as Jess unwrapped the present she'd just handed over. She'd expected no less.
Rory couldn't see it, but she knew that the look on his face while he turned his own novel over in his hands was one of bemusement. Then, as she watched him leaf through the copy, she imagined that he was wearing a broad smile.
His gift was the easiest to choose that year. A copy of The Subsect by Jess Mariano, completely and utterly defaced by Rory's own handwriting.
The last margin note was 'Merry Christmas'.