Disclaimer: Not ASP. Many lines are taken from the original series but reworked to fit my version of how the story should have carried on.
Chapter 13
"Hey, kid. What's going on?"
"I just got a call from Kirk. He wanted to know if he could crash at my dorm," Rory asked of her mother, who had called her the following morning.
Rory had left the apartment early to retrieve some to-go coffees and muffins for her and Marty to enjoy once he woke. She still felt bad about the previous night's events, so she hoped that her thoughtful gesture would get them back on a good track. As soon as she stepped into the main hallway, Rory got a bizarre call from Kirk of all people that had her puzzled.
"Oh, boy," Lorelai answered.
"How did he get my number?" wondered Rory.
"Oh. He probably got it off the fridge."
"Okay. And what was Kirk doing near our fridge?" Rory implored.
"It's a long story," brushed off her mother.
"Okay, well tell me later. I want to hear how the back-together date went." Rory said eagerly.
"It was very successful."
"Did he like the dress?"
"The dress was a hit."
"I told you."
"And um, how was your date with Marty?"
"Completely insane. You won't believe the evening I had."
"Tell me." Lorelai pleaded eagerly.
"So, Marty and I get to the party, and at some point, Logan and his crew show up. And at first, everything was completely caj, and then as the evening went on, Logan came over while Marty was at the bar, saying stuff, obviously jealous. He tried to pull me in a corner, got handsy, kissed me, and tried to get me to see that he's the excitement I need in my life." Rory recounted.
"Oh, really?"
"Oh, yeah. Logan actually asked me to dump Marty right then and there to leave with him."
"And did you?"
"Of course not. Marty's my boyfriend, I told Logan that I came with Marty, hence I was leaving with Marty."
"Sounds eventful... Wait, did you say boyfriend? When did that happen?"
"Yeah, after what I saw at that café, I just couldn't imagine Marty doing that so I told him that I want to be exclusive, and that led to labels."
"That's wonderful, right?
"Yeah, all except that Marty saw the Logan kiss and the whole interaction."
"Wow. Poor Marty."
"Actually, I think the Logan bit helped..." Rory said with a hint of deviousness.
"Oh, share, share."
"Later, mom, I need to get back."
Rory hung up, on her baffled mother who was still trying to piece together the night as it was described.
ooo
When Rory got back to the apartment, Marty had already left. There was no note left and even Paris did not recall any verbal messages to relay to Rory. Rory chalked it up to an oversight. However, days later when there was still no word from Marty that explained his sudden disappearance, Rory got worried that Marty had changed his mind and was indeed hurt by what he saw at the party.
Rory, who tried to never let her feelings slow her down, tossed herself into schoolwork, outstanding articles and just the average day-to-day. She desperately attempted to distract herself with what she could, but her irritation was slowly getting the better of her. Also, in the coming days, Paris had also been trying her mood and was pushing Rory's buttons more so than usual.
On Thursday, Rory walked into her room for quiet to answer her ringing cell phone.
"Hello?"
"He's dead," said Lorelai.
"Who?" Rory asked, confusedly.
"Old Man Twickham."
"No."
"Yes."
"There's gotta be some mistake," Rory said in disbelief.
"It's not. The man is gone."
"I don't believe it. I mean, are you sure?"
"There no breath left in him. The light's gone out of his eyes. He's smelled the burned almonds. He's feeding the worms. He's chatting up his grandpa. He is the old man formerly known as Twickham," dramatized her mother.
"Wow. I can't believe he's gone. I mean, he's been dying my whole life."
"And I just got my goodbye in. He was about to close shop for the day. We got in, told him goodbye and that we'd miss him. We left, and then, apparently, he just closed his eyes, muttered something about Lori Loughlin, and that was that. "
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"He's never died before."
"I guess there's a first time for everything. Kirk's happy, though. His dying caused a run-on souvenirs."
"Tacky."
"Oh, yeah, tacky." Rory knew from her mom's tone that she had already bought some. Lorelai continued. "So, are you coming home this weekend?"
"Probably not. Maybe next week."
"Okay, I just always like to check."
"So, I should go. Sorry about Old Man Twickham."
" Gotta move on. I hear Old Man Ketchum has a nasty cough. Could turn into something."
"That's the spirit. Bye."
As the volume increased from outside her closed door, Rory lost her cool as she hung up. Paris was repeatedly playing "Die Hochziet des Figaro" by Mozart over the living room's surround sound system.
Rory walked out to where Paris was sitting in her pyjamas on one of the green high-back chairs. "Pathetic," she stated loud enough for the blonde woman to hear.
"What?" Paris yelled back.
"Nothing important, I just wanted to inform you that you're pathetic."
"Back at you, sister. "
"I'm not pathetic."
"Oh, come on, we're in the same situation except you're in denial."
"Denial?"
"I haven't seen Logan lately."
"Well, why don't you call him up then? I bet he misses you. And I am not seeing Logan anymore because I'm dating Marty."
"Really? Is that why he's always around?"
"Yes. Now, I'm heading out, goodbye."
"Well, have fun pretending the sky is pink," said Paris over the overture.
"Have fun re-enacting the Maxwell Tape ad," called Rory in response over her shoulder as she headed out the door.
Rory holed up in the library for the rest of the day, not that she thought it would make a difference in her Marty situation. There was still radio silence when she checked her mobile hours later.
Decidedly by Friday, Rory had resolved to get out of the dormitory because she refused to let herself become "one of those girls" like Paris has clearly allowed herself to be. Rory would not get upset because her boyfriend had become mysteriously too busy for her in the past week.
"Every one of these people is dead. That makes me sad." Paris declared from the couch where she was watching Beach Party with Frankie and Annette.
"That movie's from the 60s. They're not all dead," called Rory from the other room, as she was dragging her packed duffle.
"Well, they're old. Osteoporotic. These days, if they shake it, they break it. That makes me sad," moped Paris.
"Switch back to Mahler," suggested Rory.
"It was your idea for me to watch a movie," retorted Paris.
"It was my idea for you to do whatever it took to get your mind off Doyle."
"So, you're going away, huh? No Wilcox this weekend?"
"No, he's gotta work, presumably."
"And no, Huntzberger this weekend?" '
"No."
"You guys were hot and heavy for a bit. What happened?"
"Nothing. I just didn't like how he treated people and I didn't like who I was becoming while I was around him."
"Well, I think you picked right. Sure, Naked Guy isn't as rich or as inbred as Boy Huntzberger, but he's crazy about you and it's obvious. He'll come back around."
"Doyle is crazy about you too, you know. He'll come around."
"Will he?"
"I don't know for sure. But I do know you should get up and out. It would do you, good."
"You know what Rory, you're right. This place is poison. I want to live my life so that I'll be able to read an in-depth biography about myself in later years and not puke. I'm going to get up and pack, and I'm gonna have some fun this weekend."
With this Paris got up and cast off the throw blanket that she's been wrapped in for the past few days. Paris hurried to her own room, determinedly.
"Good."
"How does this end?" Paris poked her head out and indicated the tv.
"They dance again," Rory answered halfway out the door.
"Okay."
About 40 minutes later, Rory opened the door to her childhood home.
"Hello?" she called.
"Hi, Honey." Her mother responded.
"This is okay, right?" questioned Rory her mother since she was wearing a weird expression. "Springing a surprise visit on you?"
"This is your definition of surprise?" Lorelai inquired. "This is not a surprise. Come on in. I'll show you a surprise." reassured Lorelai as she led her daughter around the corner where her roommate was sitting on their couch.
"Paris."
"I packed my bags and was on the road before I remembered that my parents don't own property in the United States anymore." Paris explained.
"Since when?"
"Since the IRS Redd Foxxed my father. The place in Asylum Hill, the Nantucket cottage. Eve the crack house in Harlem that we converted into a co-op was sold off to one of the Queer Eye guys."
"Where did they go?"
"They're going to wire me when they're safe. Anyway, I'm here. Should I leave?"
"No, stay. If it's okay with Mom." Rory said as she looked at her mother.
"It's okay with me."
"So, I guess you can have the couch."
"Uh, sorry. That's spoken for."
"What?"
Kirk came down the stairs. "Hey, Rory. This is a nice surprise."
"The Moudeses were supposed to have him tonight. They have goldfish. Kirk's afraid of goldish," explained Lorelai casually.
"They're always staring at you, all gold and unblinking," Kirk added.
"I like sleeping on the floor, anyway. It's good for my back," stated Paris, accommodatingly.
"Okay, enjoy," affirmed Rory. "Can I, um... " Rory indicated they move away for a quick exchange of words.
"Uh huh," responded Lorelai, in understanding.
The mother and daughter went through to Rory's old room.
"So, what inspired your visit?"
"Just nothing else to do."
"Oh, well, don't I feel special?" responded Lorelai, sarcastically.
"Sorry, you know what I mean."
"You mean, 'I love you, Mommy. I miss you, Mommy," supplied Lorelai.
"That's what I meant."
"So, no parties or anything? No, Marty?"
"No, he's working a lot these days. Just I wanted a nice quiet weekend. It's perfect." Rory suddenly remembered. "Oh, wait, you didn't have anything planned with Luke tonight? Don't cancel it on my account."
"No, it's okay. He's busy. Taylor's making him drive out to fetch a historical cannonball that Old Man Twickham had lent to his sister in Mystic. "
"What would you borrow a cannonball for?"
"It's been bugging me, too."
"So, how'd your magazine interview go?"
"Good, I think." glowed Lorelai.
"I mean, I've never done one before. She didn't stab me with her pencil or anything."
"A very good sign."
"My interview was really cool. Sandra. It was more like friends chatting than being interviewed. She loved the inn. She asked some good questions and she loved, loved my Emily stuff. "
"Your Emily stuff?" asked Rory, nervously.
"Yes, she asked me questions about my background. I gave it to her, unplugged."
"You didn't."
"She asked."
"But you couched it, right?'
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you described it, in so many words, colourful but unemotional?"
"I called her the female Pol Pot."
"Mom, you didn't."
"She laughed for like a minute."
"That's so harsh."
"Harsh, but true."
Kirk approached the room with his hand covering his eyes. "Can I get some water?"
"Why are you covering your eyes, Kirk?"
"In case you're naked."
"You thought I'd walk into my daughter's room and get naked?"
"I don't know your domestic routine."
"Glasses are above the sink."
Rory was still trying to wrap her mind around what Lorelai told the reporter. "So, you attributed any war crimes to Grandma? Any environmental disasters?"
"Quit! We were just talking. She won't print any of it."
"Why? Was it off the record?"
"Yeah, technically. It wasn't about the inn. "
"But, did you say, 'It's off the record'?
"No."
"Then, it's fair game. She can print all of it."
"Including the limerick?"
"You did your limerick?"
"I am very proud of it. I found two dirty works that rhyme with Emily."
"Oh, boy."
"Can't I call the reporter and tell her it was off the record?"
"You can't take things off the record once they're on."
"Well, so what? The chances that my mother reads American Travel are extremely slim."
"Yeah... Except for the fact that I told her about it tonight. I needed some small talk."
"And 'how are the girls at the club?' and 'ooh, that's gorgeous, is it new?' doesn't work anymore? Those are tried and true standbys."
"Well, i told her about it, and she jotted down the title. She's gonna read it."
"Okay, well, you know what? Fine, let her. It's all true. I'm tired of protecting people of being polite of worrying about other people's feelings. Let her get all Condoleezza Rice to my Barbara Boxer if she wants."
Kirk let out a loud, "Ow!" from the other room.
"Kirk, you can open your eyes."
"I'm fine. Ow, my head."
"Kirk!"
"I'm fine. Ow, my toe."
"Kirk."
"Ow, my knee. "
"Kirk," Lorelai hurried from the room.
Rory still felt weird about what her mother disclosed in the interview but tried not to overthink it, not yet anyway. She already had her own issues preoccupying her mind, without the sense of impending doom to come once her grandmother read the article.
ooo
"Breakfast!" hollered Lorelai to the other occupants of the house the next morning.
"Morning," said Paris.
"Morning. Rory, are you up?' Lorelai knocked on her daughter's door.
"She's probably on the phone," answered Paris.
"I'm not on the phone. I was just getting dressed." Rory countered.
"Coffee?" Lorelai asked.
"Definitely, yes." Rory concurred.
"So, did you get any rest?" Lorelai inquired.
"Kirk talks in his sleep." Paris divulged.
"Anything juicy?" Lorelai pried.
"He deals blackjack," stated Paris, obviously.
"Kirk?" Lorelai called out loudly.
"Yeah?" Kirk answered.
"Turn off the TV. Come have your breakfast," called Lorelai to the grown man.
"In a minute," Kirk responded from the other room.
"Now," warned Lorelai in her best mom voice.
Paris looked at Rory, "how old is he?'
"You'd have to cut him open and count the rings." Rory replied sarcastically.
"Morning." cheered Kirk.
"Morning." said the Gilmores in unison.
"You really should see a sleep therapist," advised Paris.
"Roulette?" Kirk asked.
"Blackjack," answered Paris.
"Sorry," ended Kirk.
Lorelai heard the noise coming from the other room and inquired, "Kirk, is the TV still on?"
"Oh, I forgot," Kirk said in excuse.
"No, no, I'll get it. You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on." Lorelai said, lightheartedly.
"Don't deny you were on the phone," Paris accused Rory.
"Phone's in the living room," retorted Rory.
"Oh, that's your phone?" Paris asked innocently. "It rang about an hour ago."
"It was ringing?" Rory said as her face lit up.
"No," Paris smirked deviously.
"Knock it off," Rory told Paris.
Rory had not heard from Marty in a week at this point since the party and their subsequent sleepover. His leaving that morning had been kind of weird for him, and she was worried that maybe he was still upset with her about the Logan incident, as she could not attribute it to much else, even though she had raked her brain thoroughly. But it had not made sense, because after that they went to the dorm, where they got close to crossing another relationship milestone before they pumped the brakes. Was he mad about that? I thought he understood.
"What are you guys talking about?" Kirk asked looking up from the cereal box. The college girls took a sip of their drinks respectively.
"Fine," sulked Kirk as he started to build a structure out of the cereal boxes.
"No forts," commanded Lorelai. "Now, I don't know what all your plans are, but the grand opening of the Stars Hollow Museum is this morning. Any takers?"
"It's always amusing when provincials grasp for legitimacy. I'm in," declared Paris.
"I wouldn't miss it." Rory chimed in, welcoming the distraction.
"I helped build it."
"Bully."
"All right, we'll finish up here, grab your jackets, and we'll go."
"I don't need a jacket."
"Well, it's chilly, Kirk."
"I don't want to wear a jacket."
"Well, then maybe you won't go to the grand opening of the Stars Hollow Museum."
"I'll put on my jacket."
"Finish your breakfast first... Kirk, do not turn that TV on...Kirk... I mean it, Kirk."
ooo
"Hi, Patty," greeted Lorelai as Rory and Paris lagged behind her. Kirk had left the group saying that he had to check in with his mom and Lulu.
"Oh, hello, I remember you, you poor thing," Patty remarked as she eyed Paris.
"Thanks," Paris responded.
"That's $3 each, but that includes a punch. Would you like yours now?" Patty asked offering a cup to Lorelai mostly.
"Oh, how about later, after I eat a loaf of bread and a pound of crackers and chase it with a quart of olive oil." Lorelai quipped back quickly.
"Well, it's not my punch if it's not strong," Patty said rather casually.
"Hey, you guys coming? Looks like we're the first group in." Lorelai saw Sookie and Luke waiting, and she looked at her daughter and her friend.
"I'll catch up. I told Lane I'd meet up with her." Rory answered softly to her mother.
"Okay, see you. Bye." Lorelai said over her shoulder as she was headed to join Luke and Sookie.
"How you doing?" Paris inquired of Rory.
"I'm fine," Rory answered.
"Doyle's probably called me at the dorm and not calling him back means he may never call me again," stated Paris like she fully believed it.
"Paris, you've come this far. Don't buckle." Rory encouraged.
"I don't want to buckle. I really don't want to buckle." Paris admitted. Then Paris took out her cell phone from her pocket and shoved it in Rory's hand. "Here, keep it for me."
"Your cell phone? You sure?" Rory said with surprise.
"Remove the temptation," said Paris resolved.
"You got it. There's Lane," pointed out Rory as her Korean best friend strolled up to the Twickham lawn.
"Hello." greeted Lane, glum mirroring Rory and Paris.
"What's wrong with you?" Rory asked concerned.
"I don't want to talk about it," answered Lane.
"Well, we're a fun group," commented Rory as the trio were still hovering around Ms. Patty's table.
Out of the blue, Paris grabbed a stack of cups which she pushed into Rory's hands, and she lifted a very full bottle of the punch from the table and proceeded to the nearby secluded seating area. Rory was bewildered and followed to question Paris about her actions. Lane also followed Rory too, equally astonished.
"What? We paid our $3." Paris responded simply while beginning to pour the bright red liquid into the cups.
"Miss Patty's leftover punch is used to remove tar from construction sites." Rory warned.
"Then let it remove the tar from our souls," Paris said.
Ooo
"He just flat-out looked out of his face right into my face and said to my face that he was lying," Lane said drunkenly finally opening up, an hour later.
"Zach said that he was lying?" Rory said in disbelief.
"No. He lied from his face into my face about where he was going. That's what hurts the most. The lie. Except for seeing him with that woman. That hurts the most. More than the lie." Lane explained to the table.
"You'd think they'd stumble onto the truth. Just accidentally. Say something like 'two plus two equals four' just because they say so many things just accidentally. That's like...Man!" Paris affirmed with her own two cents about the situation.
"I know," Lane animatedly agreed.
"They just have to repopulate the species, you know? Just spread it around." Paris kept going.
"They like to spread it around, all right," Rory found herself saying in response.
"I bet you Doyle's spreading it right now," Paris said sadly.
"You don't know that he's spreading it," Rory tried to bring some reason to Paris.
"This-" Paris indicated the punch "-is tasty."
Lane suddenly stood up and said, "I've had it."
"Had what?" Rory asked.
"I'm getting to the bottom of this," Lane said determinedly.
"Spank his bottom," cheered Paris.
"He can't do this. We're friends, too, as well as lovers if we ever get married," Lane prattled.
With that Lane strode off, presumably to find Zach.
"She walks funny," commented Paris, to Rory.
"I'm thirsty. This punch makes you thirsty." Rory said, feeling her own buzz.
"Where's the nearest bathroom?" Paris asked Rory.
"No, Paris, no. Stay." Rory begged, knowing that Paris was trying to shake her off so she could call Doyle.
"I need to go to the bathroom," declared Paris.
"You're going to call Doyle," accused Rory.
"What? You've got my cell phone," retorted Paris.
"We're low-tech here in the Hollow, but we do have pay phones," Rory said, seeing through Paris' plan even in her drunken state.
"I'm not going to call Doyle," lied Paris.
"Yes, you are," Rory said.
"I don't even have money on me," Paris tried to convince Rory.
"Uh huh..." Rory responded, disbelieving.
"Fine. Take my shoes, okay?" Paris took off her socks and shoes to prove the point. "How far can I get without my shoes? Now, bathroom?"
Rory pointed, "Over there."
"I'll be right back."
"Good."
While waiting for Paris to return, Rory drained the red liquid from her cup. Rory took out the cell phone and dialled her voicemail.
"Hey, it's Marty, where are you? I went by your dorm, and you aren't there. Listen sorry about being MiA the last few days, I just think we need to talk. Call me."
Rory resisted the urge to call him back immediately. There was something about him saying the phrase, "we need to talk" that was preventing her from dialling his number. That, coupled with the fact that Paris was due back at any minute stopped her from returning the call. What it did not stop her from doing was thinking, no, obsessing about what that phrase is in reference to and what it could mean All the times she had ever taken him for granted or made "just friends" comments in the past year-and-a-half suddenly rushed to the forefront of her mind.
She reached for another drink and downed it in several big gulps. Where was Paris when you needed her as a distraction?
Rory did not know whether Ms. Patty's Punch had finally got to her or if she was filled to the brim ready to spill over with regret of all the times she had not fully appreciated Marty in the way she should have. Furthermore, she replayed the events of the Logan kiss from last week and dissected every frame of what Marty supposedly saw to ponder what Marty could have taken the wrong way. The whole thing probably, but Rory was slowly driving herself crazy with these thoughts. And the more she thought, the more sips she took. Rory knew she needed Lorelai, for her mom knew how to fix anything so she would know how to fix this.
"Mom,"
"Rory, honey, what's wrong?" Lorelai turned from her conversation with Luke to greet her daughter who was stumbling out onto the sidewalk.
"I don't feel good. I really don't feel good." Rory repeated.
"I think I can guess why. Come on, let's get you home," Lorelai said casually.
"Need help? Want me to drive?" offered Luke.
"That's okay. It's just five minutes. Come on."
ooo
Rory was crying on the bathroom floor, with her head in her mother's lap. She wanted to talk to her mom about everything with Marty, but those words never came. However, tears did, and a lot of them. All she could stagger out between the rush of streams were broken-up sentences of sorrow.
"Why doesn't he like me? Why doesn't he call? What did I do?" said Rory choking on her tears.
"Shush, honey, it's okay. It's okay." comforted Lorelai, confusedly.
"Mommy, I... "
"Shh, it's okay." soothed Lorelai, as she rocked her sick, blubbering daughter.
oooo
Author's Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I have a lot of this story that has been written, now it's just lots of editing. This chapter sets up things for some cuteness of the next chapter so while I don't think Marty would intentionally do this, sometimes minds run wild with ideas especially when someone overthinks things. Hope you all like it. I think that while Rory's anxiety is not as bad as Paris', she still overthinks a lot of things and works herself into an anxious state, and it takes one to know one. And obviously whatever alcohol in Ms. Patty's punch is not helping. However, I think many of us would overthink when our significant other says the "we need to talk" phrase.
It seems like the chapters are getting longer, but I can't help it. I have a Ms. Patty's Punch fridge magnet that inspired the reworking of this scene.