A.N. This chapter marks a bit of a turning point in this story. It got pretty long, too... They keep getting bigger, like Harry Potter books... So, consider this my "Goblet of Fire," as it were. It's also a deeply personal one for me, and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to all who took the time to read and review! You have no idea how much it means to me.
Rory had never been a "baby person." They were cute (well, most of them), but she had never felt that gravitational pull that most of the girls she knew seemed to feel when a baby was in the room. When other girls clustered around, cooing and begging for a turn to hold the squishy bundle, Rory had always been content to stand at a distance and smile. She was largely immune to the charms of newborns in particular, and had always found it rather funny when people called them "beautiful," when they were objectively red, wrinkled, and alien-looking. She'd never even considered babysitting as a youthful source of revenue.
The truth was that she'd always felt a bit awkward around young children. She didn't know what to do with them. She had always felt this way, even when she was a child herself, always feeling more comfortable relating to adults. She'd been a strange little girl who wasn't interested in the same things her peers were interested in, preferring to lose herself in books and other esoteric interests the other kids found "boring," except for Lane.
The idea of motherhood was frankly terrifying. She was determined to do her best, but she had very little confidence in her nurturing abilities. What if she couldn't love her son? What if she was just… lacking in the maternal department? She forgot all that when her son was placed in her arms for the first time. She had just endured a great deal of pain, and he was just as red and wrinkly as any other newborn, but the overwhelming surge of emotion she felt towards this shriveled, trembling, bleating creature was like falling in love for the first time. When he opened his eyes and blearily studied her face, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both at once. He was perfect, and he was hers.
She was captivated by everything he did; watching his tiny pink mouth open and close, his blinking eyes (still that indiscriminate dark grey common to newborns) taking in the strange, new world around him, his tiny, perfect fingers closing around hers with a surprisingly strong grip, his soft downy hair… This was an all-consuming love, and in these first moments there was no room for anything else. Her plans for the book, her hopeless longing for Jess, all was pushed aside. There was only one boy who held her heart at the moment, and he had mittens on his tiny hands to keep him from scratching his own eyes out with his tiny, sharp fingernails.
Luke and Lorelai were just as smitten. "Hi!" Lorelai cooed, holding this bundled boy in her arms and smiling tearfully into his little red face. "Oh, I am so happy to meet you! We are going to be the best of friends. I'm your mommy's Mommy, but you can call me Lola, 'cause I am waaaay too young and pretty to be a grandma."
Luke cradled his first grandson carefully in strong, flannel-covered arms, as if he were made of glass. He was a man of few words, especially when overcome with emotion, but his wife and step-daughter both saw a few tears make their way down his grizzled cheeks. They wouldn't tell a soul.
Emily had cried as well, especially when she was told that Rory had chosen to name her son Richard, after her beloved grandfather. The circumstances of his conception had been very painful for Emily, but she was doing her best to accept it with grace. Logan had written her a letter, offering his apologies for his part in the situation, and an assurance that he had no desire to bring scandal on either of their families. He regretted that his prior commitment to Odette prevented him from being able to marry Rory, but gave his assurances that he would make sure Rory and the baby would be well taken care of. He also entreated her discretion about the matter for the sake of their reputations, and to allow him to tell his family in his own way. It was probably the best strategy Logan and Rory could have possibly made in handling this situation, as Emily had always had a soft spot for Logan, and he played the game well. From childhood, he had been schooled in the art of telling people exactly what they wanted to hear, and in such a way that they ended up believing that what he wanted was really what they wanted too. Emily Gilmore was no fool. She knew very well that Logan cared more about gaining her cooperation than expressing any sincere regret, but she was a firm believer in the idea that there was a certain way things Ought To Be Done, and she appreciated that Logan had taken the time to observe the proper formalities. Besides, there was one point on which they absolutely agreed: it would be best for everyone involved to keep this as quiet as possible. Just once she would have liked to be able to celebrate the arrival of a new grandchild with all the pomp and circumstance usually given to such events: have birth announcements printed in all the local papers and beautifully done photographs to distribute to friends and family… But yet again, it was not to be. It was a bitter disappointment, but she was making the best of it.
Logan had been informed as soon as Rory had been sure she was in labor, and he had flown over as soon as he could. Watching Logan hold their son was bittersweet and strange for Rory, and added an edge of melancholy to all the joy and love she felt. Here was this man she had loved, and she had meant to let him go, but now they were irrevocably tied to one another through this small child, and neither of them could keep him with them always.
"He's so perfect, Ace," Logan murmured hoarsely. "I wish I didn't have to let him go."
It broke Rory's heart. "I know," she said. "But you can visit any time, ok? And there's Skype or FaceTime, or whatever you want." She watched Logan nod, swallowing roughly, his eyes fixed on his son's small face. "His name is Richard Logan Gilmore, so your name will be a part of him always."
Logan grimaced. "Oh, Ace," he sighed, "you shouldn't have."
Rory stiffened. There was something in his tone that indicated he meant it literally. "What do you mean?" she asked warily. "We discussed this months ago. You said you were upset that he wouldn't have your last name, and when I proposed this as an alternative, you said it would mean a lot to you!"
Logan sighed yet again. "I know. I know what I said. It's just that there's no question at all who his father is now, is there?"
Rory couldn't believe she was hearing this. "But we agreed," she pressed, her voice shaking. "We agreed that our son wouldn't be some dirty little secret. I mean you've already told your parents and Odette, right?"
Logan remained silent.
"Seriously?! Logan!"
"Look. I know what we agreed, but you also said you didn't want my parents involved in his upbringing. I don't blame you; I don't particularly want them involved either... but don't you see what an impossible position you've put me in?"
"I… I've put you in? You agreed! You told me you'd take care of it!"
"And I will! I'm just working up to it. You have to understand how difficult this is."
"And Odette? I didn't say I didn't want her involved."
"I haven't found the right moment yet."
"Unbelievable. Is there ever going to be a 'right moment' for telling your wife you fathered a child while you were engaged?"
"There will be. I'll make it happen, I promise you."
"Great," Rory said bitterly. She'd believe it when it happened. This was not what she'd hoped for. This was supposed to be a mature, 21st century co-parenting agreement, not the "secret mistress with secret bastard child" 19th century nightmare this was rapidly turning into. "Well," she said sarcastically, "What do you want me to do? Keep his middle name a secret for you? Pretend the "L" doesn't stand for anything, like 'Harry S. Truman?'"
Logan would only look at his baby boy. "Whatever is easiest for you," he shrugged. "It won't be forever."
Richie began to squirm in his father's arms, whimpering and trying to stuff his mittened hand into his mouth.
"He's hungry," Rory informed Logan crossly. "Let me take him. It's not like you want him anyway."
"Ace, that's not fair," he sighed, reluctantly transferring the baby to Rory's arms.
"I want to believe you, Logan," Rory said, focusing on helping Richie start nursing. She didn't care if it made Logan uncomfortable. Join the twenty-first century, Logan. When blended families and public breastfeeding are facts of life. Besides, it's not like he hadn't seen it all before. "But I'm going to need 'deeds not words' at some point."
She texted a photo to Jess the next day.
"Well done, Gilmore. He looks just like Winston Churchill, congrats!" was the response.
Rory laughed, looking down at the bald head, protruding lip, and heavy jowls of her baby boy with affectionate amusement. She had tried to keep up a respectfully distant sort of friendship with Jess since she'd heard about Sylvia. She'd cited preoccupation with the impending arrival of her baby as the reason she'd stopped sending him chapters to read, and it was true enough. There was so much to do, and she'd managed to find a female therapist she liked as well, congratulating herself on getting that habit established before "D-DAY," as the Gilmore Girls had taken to calling it. Jess was right: it was proving to be very helpful to have a neutral second opinion as she attempted to sort through the mess her life had become. She'd never been particularly adept at self-reflection, so it was nice to have help with that, and especially from someone who wasn't biased in her favor. As much as she loved her mom and Lane, she recognized that they often went easier on her than they should. She used to appreciate that, had found it comforting to always have people to tell her everything would be ok, but she wanted no more of that now. Honesty, not comfort, was the order of the day. This was a new era for Rory. She was a mother to a beautiful baby boy, and she wanted to be a good person for him, not some feckless, irresponsible, self-indulgent… person with no obligation to anyone! She would not be like her father. She would not be like Liz.
Speaking of Liz, Rory was now tied to Luke's (and by extension, Jess's) extended family as well, and Liz… well, Liz was definitely a "baby person." Liz, TJ, and a shyly smiling Doula all descended upon her the day after she brought Richie home from the hospital.
"Oh, he's so beautiful!" Liz enthused, after Rory reluctantly set Richie in her arms. "Oh, he is gonna be one special kid, I can just feel it, you know? And he's so quiet! It's been ages since I held a little boy, but Jess was never a quiet baby. He cried all the time. Never makin' my life easy from the get-go, that one!" Liz laughed, but Rory was not amused. She was very tempted to make some acid retort about that being common in babies who had to detox at birth, but she reminded herself that she didn't actually know the details of what Liz had and hadn't done while pregnant with Jess. And she shouldn't say things like that in front of Doula, anyway...
Doula shyly asked if she could hold the baby, and after sending her to wash her hands and propping her up with pillows, she cradled her new cousin with exquisite care. "I like his little nose," she said quietly, her eyes shining, and Rory smiled at her warmly. Doula shared some resemblance to her big brother, even though they shared only one parent. She had the same big brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and a tangle of thick brown hair that always seemed to need combing. It made Rory wonder what Jess had looked like as a little boy, and the image was endlessly appealing. Doula was ten years old now, and at that awkward, coltish stage of childhood marked by gangly limbs and front teeth too big for her smile. She didn't seem to have her brother's brilliant mind, but she was a quiet, sweet girl and Rory liked her.
Rory could only take so much of Liz and TJ's inane chatter before she found her patience wearing thin, but all she had to do was declare that Richie might need a diaper change to push them out the door. As Rory was waving goodbye, Doula raced back to her and, after a moment's hesitation, timidly asked, "Can I come back and see him sometimes? He's so cute…"
Rory beamed at her. "Of course you can! You'll need to be quiet, 'cause he might be sleeping, but you're welcome to come any time."
Doula lit up like a beacon. "Really? Thanks, Rory!" she squealed, hugging her impulsively. "Oh!" she gasped then, suddenly remembering the baby in Rory's arms as he gave an indignant squawk. "Sorry, Richie!" she whispered, kissing his downy head and then bounding back down the porch steps after her parents.
The next few weeks passed by in a sleep-deprived blur. Breastfeeding was weird but strangely satisfying. She discovered muscles in her back she didn't know existed before they grew sore from the constant nine-pound weight her arms were carrying. Her life revolved around poop more than she ever thought possible. She was more exhausted than she had ever thought possible… But at least there was coffee. Blessed, blessed coffee! She had to be careful about when and how much she drank, but at least it was something. And there was Richie. Everything was new and wonder-full through his eyes, and sometimes when Rory looked at him, her heart felt so full she thought it might burst.
Through all of this, Doula became a regular visitor, coming three days a week on her way home from school. She usually knocked softly, but also knew how to find the key in the turtle in case Rory was unable to come to the door. She was a lifesaver, keeping Richie distracted during diaper changes, eagerly fetching drinks or snacks for Rory if she was nursing, and, if Richie was napping, happily agreeing to watch over him so that Rory could grab a quick shower, being under strict orders to tell her if Richie woke up. It helped to have some relief before her mother or Luke came home from work.
"I always wanted a baby brother or sister, but Mom and Dad are too old," Doula chattered. "They were already old when they had me. I was the baby sister instead! At least I have a cool big brother, though. I mean, he's not like a normal big brother, because he was a grown-up already and I never had to share my house or my stuff, and we don't have the same dad, so I'm kinda sorta an only child too, but as far as big brothers go, he's pretty awesome."
"Oh yeah?" Rory smiled, patting Richie on the back after feeding him, ready with a burp cloth in case he spat it up again.
"Yeah!" Doula confirmed. "He does cool magic tricks, but he's not, like, dorky about it, you know? And he comes take me for ice cream sometimes. He helps me with my reading, too. I'm not very good at it 'cause of my dys… dys-LEX-ia, but Jess says books are really important, and he wants me to be able to enjoy the stories, 'cause he says that's the most important part, so he still reads to me sometimes, so I'll be able to enjoy it instead of just getting mad at the letters. And it's not, like, a baby thing when he reads to me, because he's really good and interesting, and he reads me grown-up books instead of little kid books."
"Wow, that's amazing," Rory said. "He does sound like a good big brother."
"Yeah. And he comes over with Uncle Luke whenever Mom and Dad get too crazy, so that's nice too. You're friends with Jess, right? You're both, like, really smart, and I've seen you guys talk at Christmas and stuff…"
"Yeah, I'm friends with your brother. I really like him too."
Doula beamed. It was clear from how often she talked about him that Doula adored her older brother. Rory tried not to seem more than politely interested, but she was secretly thrilled that Jess's kid sister was such a chatterbox. Jess never liked talking about himself very much, so it was great to have such a prolific source of insider information.
Richie had just finished nursing one Friday afternoon several weeks later when the usual knock came. Doula was a little later than usual. Rory quickly tugged her top back into place and went to the door, Richie propped against her shoulder. She opened the door with a smile for Doula, but suddenly found she wasn't alone this time. There were two sets of brown eyes looking back at her.
"Jess," she breathed, heart suddenly pounding out of her chest. There he was, devastatingly handsome and smiling at her. She hadn't seen him in months, not since that day in his apartment when everything had changed.
"Hey, Rory," he said warmly. "Hope you don't mind me tagging along this time. This one won't stop talking about how adorable your kid is…" He punctuated the word adorable with a teasing pinch under Doula's arm as she giggled and squirmed away. "So I thought I'd better come see for myself," he finished, looking down at his sister fondly.
"Oh," Rory said, still feeling shell-shocked. "Yeah, sure! Come on in!" She blushed beet-red at the close proximity of Jess's smirk and his mischievous, direct gaze as he passed her on his way through the door, and she found herself frantically trying to remember if she had showered this morning. She didn't think she had! Dang it, she hadn't expected Jess to see her today! She was schlumpy and gross in yoga pants and yesterday's t-shirt, unwashed hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail, and the combination of leaking breast milk and spit-up always had her vaguely smelling like cheese. She had never felt more unattractive. What a disaster! Not that it should matter, really, she reminded herself. Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia.
"Hey, before we start the introductions... here. This is for you," Jess said, holding up a bag with a mouth-watering smell emanating from it.
"Is that…? Oh my G-d! You brought me Indian food!"
"Nah, Luke just asked me to bring that over. I don't even know what's in it," Jess said off-handedly, before breaking into laughter at the unimpressed look Rory shot at him.
"Oh, please. Like I'd fall for that one again. So that's why you asked me how my stomach was doing lately!"
He shrugged. "Figured you probably don't have a lot of time to make dinner these days… not that you ever did much of that, really… I'll just run this to the kitchen."
"Thank you!" she called lamely after him, eyes following until Doula spoke up.
"How's Richie today?"
"Oh, he's fine. Hungry all the time, as usual… Neither one of us got much sleep last night."
"Can I hold him for a little bit? Please?" Doula begged.
"Sure," Rory agreed distractedly, glancing back towards the kitchen. "Um, have a seat. I'll get you set up."
She was just putting Richie in Doula's arms when Jess returned.
"So, this is the kid, huh?" he said, standing next to Rory and smiling down at his sister and the baby.
"Yeah, that's Richie," Rory beamed. "But hang on, we have to do this properly! Doula, I'm taking him back."
"Aw man!" she whined. "But I just got him!"
"And you can have him back in a minute! But first… Jess Mariano, this is Richard Gilmore. Richie, this is Jess!"
"Pleased to meet you," Jess addressed the baby with mock solemnity, gently touching one tiny hand with his forefinger. Richie grabbed it and studied Jess's face intently. He breathed out a quiet laugh. "Wow. He's… pretty great."
"Do you want to hold him?" Rory asked.
Jess blinked, his eyebrows raising. "Uh… ok. You sure?"
Rory nodded, smiling at him. "Just support his head," she instructed, gently placing her son in Jess's arms.
"I have held babies before, Rory," he drawled. "That one over there, among others…" he smirked, tipping his head at Doula, who was watching eagerly. "Hey!" he said softly to Richie then, who was still staring at his face very seriously. "Look at you, takin' it all in! He's like, 'Who is this guy? What's he up to?' Nothing good, little man. Nothing good."
"Stop that," Rory frowned, swatting his arm. "Don't listen to him, Richie!" she cooed. "He just doesn't want anyone to know how nice he is. This guy is one of the best guys."
"Now you stop," Jess muttered, clearly embarrassed. "You wanna go see Doula?"
"Yes!" Doula cheered, bouncing on the couch and then eagerly rearranging her pillows.
"Ok," Jess chuckled, raising his eyebrows at Rory for confirmation before carrying the baby over to his sister and making sure she was holding him securely before he retreated.
"So how are you doing?" Jess asked Rory, looking at her appraisingly.
"Tired," she laughed. "Tired, but good. It's exhausting, but Richie is… G-d, he's amazing. I didn't think it was possible to love someone so much."
Jess had a soft smile on his face, his amber eyes glowing as he looked at her. "Good. You're gonna be a great mom, Rory," he said warmly.
"Well," she chuckled uncomfortably, pushing her messy hair out of her face, "I hope so. We'll see."
"You will," he said earnestly. Jess moved to hug her from the side, but she cringed away from him and he withdrew his arm awkwardly.
"Sorry," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "I thought… um… after the last time I saw you…"
"Oh, no!" Rory rushed to explain, finally realizing what he was thinking. "No, you're fine! Hugs are fine, it's just…" She laughed nervously. "You don't want to hug me right now. I'm so gross, I haven't really had… time to shower today. If Richie's sleeping, sometimes Doula keeps an eye on him so I can do that, but… well, he's awake, and you're here, so… It's fine, I'm used to it. But just… don't get close enough to smell me right now. Trust me."
Jess was smiling at her in amusement. "Well, why don't Doula and I watch him for a while so you can take care of yourself? You ok with that, Doula?"
"Yes!"
"Well, there you go," Jess shrugged.
"Oh. I… Well, that's very nice of you, but… Are you sure?" she fretted, wringing her hands together.
"Sure, why not?" Jess answered. "We can handle a baby for half an hour, right Doula?"
"Right!" she chirped.
"Well… ok," Rory agreed reluctantly. "Doula, do you remember where the diapers are? In the changing table?"
"Uh-huh!" she replied cheerfully.
"Ok. And you promise to come get me if he needs me for anything?"
"Promise," Jess soothed. "I'll send Doula, if necessary." He winked at her, and Rory blushed as she suddenly found herself grappling with the possibility of Jess interrupting her shower instead. She heard him give a low chuckle and looked up to find him smirking at her with a wicked gleam in his eye, clearly reading what she'd been thinking on her face and taking vast enjoyment in her discomfort.
"Shut up!" she glared at him. Right on cue, Richie started fussing and squirming in Doula's arms. His little face screwed up in a grimace, and then they all heard a horrible squelching sound from his diaper. Doula looked up, wide-eyed, and Rory and Jess both grimaced.
"Oh great!" Rory groaned. "Well there goes that idea!" She started towards her son, but Jess held her arm back.
"Hey, hey," he said. "You go. We'll get him cleaned up."
Rory looked back at him wildly. "Are you serious? That sounded like the mother of all blow-outs. I can't ask you to do that!"
"I've changed diapers before! Again, that one over there!"
"Je-ess!" Doula complained, her face screwed up in embarrassment.
"But that was a girl baby! Have you ever changed a boy baby? You have to do it differently!"
"Oh my G-d, you're right! I don't have any experience taking care of boy parts!" he rolled his eyes and then looked at her significantly.
Doula giggled, and Rory blushed yet again. "Ok, fine," she relented. "Um, Doula, don't forget what I told you about covering him up? I don't want Jess getting shot in the face... when I'm not there to see it..." she grinned.
Jess's mouth fell open in indignation. He scowled at Rory playfully and pushed her out of the room. "Get outta here, Gilmore, before I take back my offer," he growled.
She was still smiling as she walked down the hall, until she heard Richie's fussing escalate into a full-blown howl of discomfort. She turned right around and rushed back into the room, seeing Jess in the middle of bending over to lift the crying baby from Doula's lap, shushing him. Jess's eyes met hers as he stood up.
"Rory, go!"
"But what if he needs me?" she asked desperately.
"Rory," he said gently, "what he needs most of all right now is a diaper change, and we're trying to take care of that for him. And he needs you to take care of yourself so you don't run yourself into the ground. Now go! We got this."
"It's ok, Rory," Doula reassured her, leading the way to the changing table.
"If I can't get him to calm down after he's changed, I promise we'll come get you, ok?" Jess said, following with Richie.
Rory sighed anxiously. "Ok! Fine! I'll be back as soon as I can, ok?" She quickly grabbed a change of clothes from her room and all but ran to the bathroom, the sound of Richie's cries tearing at her heart.
She completed her shower in record-breaking time, fueled by the adrenaline of her anxious thoughts, and as soon as the water stopped running, she listened intently. Nothing. The house was quiet. After a brief internal debate, she gave herself permission to comb her wet hair and twist it up into a quick bun after getting dressed in clean clothes. She still felt frumpy, but at least she didn't smell like cheese anymore…
She opened the door warily and tiptoed down the hall. As she peeked into the living room, she saw Jess pacing slowly back and forth with Richie, who was fast asleep with his little cheek pressed into the crook of Jess's neck. Doula was quietly petting Paul Anka on the floor.
Rory felt her chest grow tight as she watched her son, snuggled safely in the arms of the man she loved, whether from love or pain or both, she wasn't sure. It made her long for things she couldn't have. Dammit Jess, she thought, why do you have to make it so hard for me to get over you? She took a deep breath, and stepped into the room.
"Hey," she whispered. Jess turned to look at her and smiled. He gestured her closer.
"Hey," he whispered back. "He just fell asleep about a minute ago. Do you think he'd let me put him down?"
"If you're lucky…" she whispered. "Come on." She led the way towards her room and Jess followed her to the bassinet set up next to her bed.
"Here goes nothin'," Jess breathed, carefully bringing the sleeping baby down from his shoulder and slowly lowering him to the mattress. Jess and Rory held their breaths as Richie whimpered and stirred a bit, but then he sank back into sleep. They slowly backed out of the room and shut the door before exhaling in relief.
"I feel like I just defused a bomb," Jess joked quietly as they walked back to the living room.
Rory laughed. "So, how did it go?" she asked. "Was it really bad?"
Jess shook his head dismissively and said, "Nah, it was fine," as Doula simultaneously said, "So bad!"
The two siblings frowned and looked at each other for a moment as some sort of wordless argument seemed to pass between them. Finally, Jess sighed and admitted, "Fine. It was disgusting."
"It was a poop-splosion!" Doula elaborated with enthusiastic horror. "It was, like, all over him. I had to hold his arms up to keep him from sticking his hands in it!"
Jess nodded grimly.
"And then!" Doula continued excitedly, "Jess had juuust gotten him all cleaned up and was just putting the new diaper on, when he peed alllll over himself! Jess had to pay me, like, three dollars for that!"
Jess scratched the back of his head sheepishly and explained, "Yeah, she makes me pay her a dollar every time she hears me cuss in front of her."
Rory bit her lip to keep from laughing as Doula nodded smugly.
"I was going to spare you the ugly truth, 'cause I knew you'd make yourself feel guilty about it, but Honest Abe over here just had to open her big mouth…" Jess glared at his little sister. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well, thank you. You guys are the best, seriously. I can't thank you enough," Rory sighed, feeling almost overwhelmed by their kindness.
"No problem," Jess shrugged.
Rory was debating whether including Doula would make hugging Jess more appropriate, when keys were heard in the front door and Lorelai stepped through. She looked at the three of them in surprise. "Hey! It's a party!" she smiled.
"Richie's sleeping," Rory informed her, hinting that they should keep their voices down.
Lorelai nodded in understanding and shut the door softly behind her. She seemed about to say something when she frowned suddenly and sniffed the air. "What's that smell?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Oh. Richie had a massive blow-out," Rory explained.
"That, and I brought Rory Indian food," Jess smirked.
"What? No!" Lorelai whined.
"Yeah, sorry," Jess grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You'll just have to burn the house down, I guess."
Lorelai stared hard at Jess for a long moment and then traded glances with Rory, who looked extremely smug. Jess looked back and forth between them uneasily. "What?" he demanded.
"Oh, nothing, " Rory assured him cheerfully, patting his arm. "Just something between me and my mom."
"Hey, Doula!" Lorelai greeted her niece, who still had her fingers deep in Paul Anka's fur. "You get your Richie fix for the day, sweetie?"
"Yep!" she answered. "And I brought Jess, 'cause he hadn't met Richie yet."
"I'm in town for the weekend and left early so I could pick her up from school," Jess explained.
"That's nice of you," Lorelai said politely, watching her daughter's face. "So, anybody thirsty? Hungry?"
"I am!" Doula piped up eagerly.
"Well, just follow me to the kitchen, Missy! Only don't forget to be quiet! You guys coming?" she asked Rory and Jess.
"Oh, I'll, uh, come in a minute," Jess nodded, glancing at Rory. Lorelai looked at her daughter for a response.
"Yeah, just a minute, Mom," Rory smiled tightly, trying to sound casual as her heart fluttered like a captive bird.
Lorelai smiled one of her painted-on grins before throwing Rory a warning look as she left the room. And then it was just her and Jess; him with his hands in his pockets, and her leaning against the back of the couch. They smiled awkwardly at each other.
"So," Rory sighed, "how are you doing lately?"
"I'm good," he shrugged. "Nothin' new or exciting, just… normal, everyday life kinda stuff."
"Well, 'normal, everyday life' is severely underrated sometimes," Rory laughed. "Are you, um… still seeing Sylvia?" she asked politely, trying to keep her tone light and hoping he wouldn't notice the way she couldn't look at him when she said it.
"Sylvia?" he repeated, raising his head to look at her. "No," he said, holding her gaze when it snapped up to meet his.
Rory couldn't breathe. "Oh," she choked out in surprise. "I'm sorry," she added, because it seemed like the thing to say.
"Ah, don't be," Jess shrugged, his gaze returning to the spot on the floor he was scuffing at with his shoe. "We only went out a couple times, there's no hard feelings. She's nice, but… sometimes you can be compatible with someone on paper, but there's just no… chemistry, you know?" He looked up at her again seriously, seeming to search her face for something. She could only stare at him, transfixed. She gripped the back of the couch with trembling white fingers… and then Richie began crying from the other room, and the spell was broken. She closed her eyes.
"Sounds like I'd better go," Rory murmured reluctantly.
"Yeah," Jess sighed, smiling tightly. "'A mother's work is never done.' Isn't that how the saying goes?"
"Something like that," Rory chuckled humourlessly. "Thanks for coming over. And thanks for the food. It was… really good to see you."
"It was good seeing you too. And the kid. He's great."
"Thanks," she smiled. "I'm biased, but… I think so too."
"Rory!" Lorelai called, "I think he's hungry!"
"I'll be right there!" Rory answered. She looked at Jess helplessly. "I have to go," she regretted. "Thank you for everything," she whispered fervently, gripping his arm and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "See you later," she smiled, walking down the hall to her child.
"You're welcome," Jess murmured, his eyes following after her even as his feet remained rooted to the floor.
Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you think!