Rory hovered in the doorway, her hand resting on the knob as if it might stop her from leaving entirely.
"Okay, so her favorite blanket is the one with the ducks on it—she'll probably fight you if you try to give her the giraffe one instead. It's in the diaper bag. There are also some snacks in the side pocket. And—oh, she's been fussy about bottles lately, so if she's not drinking, you might need to cool it down a little more than usual."
Logan nodded patiently, standing in the middle of the living room with Nora balanced on his hip like he was born to do it. She was playing with the zipper of his hoodie, completely uninterested in her mother's nervous ramblings.
"Got it—the duck blanket, snacks, cool bottle. Anything else?" Logan asked.
It had been a week and a couple of days since Rory had been over to Logan's place for the first time. And now with Nora just overcoming her sinus infection she thought it would be wise to not stick her straight back in the daycare so soon. And with Logan finding himself idle, it had seemed too good of an opportunity to handle Nora's care while Rory went to work. Plus Rory knew Logan had been dying to get a chance to do this - to spend time with Nora one-on-one.
Rory bit her lip. "She likes music," she added, pointing vaguely toward his speaker setup. "Something soft, but not too soft, or she'll get bored. And if she gets cranky, walking her around usually works better than bouncing."
Logan raised an eyebrow and repeated the gist of it - "Music, snacks, ducks, walking. That's the plan."
"Logan, I'm serious," Rory exhaled, nervously. It was odd - somehow she was more nervous leaving Nora with Logan than she had been with her mother, Lane or the daycare. Not that she didn't trust Logan. She wasn't quite sure what it was - maybe that she knew Land and her mother were great with babies, also the teacher at the daycare, Belinda, had been there since Rory herself had attended it. So maybe there was that.
"So am I," he grinned, shifting Nora slightly. "We'll be fine, Rory. She's already started training me—see?" He gestured down to where Nora had a drool-soaked fist gripping the zipper, her wide eyes locked on her new favorite toy. '
Logan was putting on a brave face too, however, inside feeling far more nervous about this chance than he wanted to be or show Rory.
Rory wanted to laugh, but her nerves wouldn't let her. "And call me if—"
"I will," he promised.
"Or text if—," Rory just couldn't stop herself.
"I promise," Logan assured.
Rory opened her mouth, then closed it again, exhaling slowly. "I just—I know it's not rocket science, but she's still getting over being sick. And she's clingy when she's not feeling well."
Logan's expression softened - "Rory, I've got this."
"I know," Rory exhaled. She did know - it was just a big step in a row of steps of getting used to the idea of Nora having a dad around. For some reason it felt a little too good to be true, and Rory hadn't even dared to tell her mother about this development, being unsure of her reaction to the fact.
Rory's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen — work. Time to go.
"You'll text me if anything happens?" Rory added, not that it was necessary.
"Absolutely," Logan nodded, solemnly.
"Promise?" Rory insisted, knowing how Logan could sometimes be the kind of guy who preferred not to worry others.
Logan gave her a mock salute - "Scout's honor."
She lingered for another second, then leaned in and kissed Nora's forehead. "Be good for your dad, okay?"
The statement meant the world to Logan, though he didn't let it show—at least not outwardly. He wasn't sure he'd earned that kind of praise yet. But the fact that Rory made a point to emphasize it whenever they were together—as if ensuring Nora, above all, understood it—only deepened his respect for her.
Nora gurgled and smacked Logan's chest with her hand, apparently taking orders about as well as any baby.
Rory hesitated one last time, then turned and finally walked out the door.
The drive to Hartford felt longer than usual, her eyes darting to her phone at every red light as if expecting Logan to already need rescuing.
By the time she reached the campaign office, Rory had half-convinced herself to turn around and call in sick. But then she remembered the stack of deadlines waiting for her—and the fact that, like it or not, Logan had offered to help because he genuinely wanted to. And she wanted him to bond with Nora, too.
Inside, the campaign office was already buzzing. Staffers moved between desks, balancing coffee cups and clipboards while phones rang in the background. Posters with Donnan Anderson's face plastered across them leaned against one wall, and Rory's desk was already buried under press kits and talking points.
She dropped her bag and pulled out her laptop, trying to shake the nagging feeling in her stomach.
"Morning!" Julia, one of the senior PR coordinators, popped her head over the divider. "Hey, did you see the notes for the breakfast panel tomorrow? We need to finalize his talking points by end of day."
Rory blinked, forcing herself to focus. "Yeah, I'll get on it."
"And Donnan wants to test some messaging for the housing bill rollout next week. We're doing an informal focus group tonight—just locals, but we need a strong draft to get reactions."
"Got it." Rory scribbled down the notes, her brain already starting to map out ideas.
Messaging. That was her comfort zone. Words were controllable—unlike babies with sinus infections who woke up five times a night or men who looked far too natural—and okay, fine, maybe a little too good—holding babies for someone who hadn't been around much.
She buried herself in the work, tweaking language to highlight affordability without alienating wealthier donors, balancing warmth with authority in the tone of the speech.
It worked for a while. The rhythm of tasks and deadlines pushed her nerves into the background—until her phone buzzed.
It wasn't Logan. Just a spam email.
Rory stared at her screen, then pulled up her texts anyway. Nothing.
She shouldn't have expected anything. Logan had been calm and confident this morning, and Nora had already seemed at ease with him. It was funny how it had only taken a couple of times for Nora to warm up to him - and maybe genetics had some part of it too, recognizing some small similarity in each-other. But still, part of her kept replaying worst-case scenarios in her mind.
What if he couldn't get her to nap? What if he panicked when she cried? What if—
A few minute tasks crossed off her to-do-list, Rory's phone buzzed again, this time with a picture.
Nora, asleep in Logan's arms, her tiny fist curled against his hoodie.
Surprisingly, her first thought wasn't relief that Nora was still alive — it was awe. Nora slept so peacefully, as if that was exactly where she was meant to be — where she had belonged from the very start. What Rory felt was a sharp jolt of emotion, making her hold back her tears, feeling sorry that hadn't been possible.
Rory shook her emotions away, and instead exhaled slowly, allowing her chest loosen just a little. This was good.
"Good. Don't get cocky," Rory typed back, adding a winking emoji before sliding the phone aside.
By the time Rory got back to Logan's place later that evening, she felt a little more like herself — still tired, still frazzled, but also proud that she hadn't caved and checked in every five minutes like she'd wanted to.
Logan met her at the door, bouncing Nora lightly in his arms.
"She missed you," Logan said, handing her over without hesitation.
Rory grinned as Nora immediately latched onto her shirt and burrowed close. "I missed her too. And you?" " Rory asked, momentarily sensing how that question held a double meaning. "How was it, I mean," she corrected, apologetically.
Logan shrugged. "I survived. We had a bottle standoff around noon, but I let it cool down a little more, like you said, and she gave in as the hunger won," Logan shared.
Rory raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's it!?"
"Pretty much. We listened to Fleetwood Mac, played a little, and she took two naps. Then we had some snacks and explored the outdoors - just a walk around the house, really," he added.
Rory blinked. "Wow. Okay. Maybe I should leave her with you more often."
"Anytime," Logan said, his voice softening. "Really."
Rory looked up at him, caught off-guard by the earnestness in his tone. For a second, she almost said something—something big, something she wasn't sure she was ready for.
Instead, she shifted Nora on her hip and smiled. "You're sure you're not hiding a meltdown somewhere in there?" she asked, familiarily.
"Totally sure." Logan grinned. "But if it helps, I think she's adorable but she is exhausting…," he admitted. " I think at the very least I earned a beer," he chuckled.
Rory laughed. "You definitely did."
And as she looked around the house—the toys scattered across the floor, the bottles drying in the kitchen—she realized that for the first time Logan had gotten to experience what raising a kid was like, what it was really like.
"Honestly, it's impressive how you do it," Logan commented. "Every day," he added.
"It's not like I had a choice," Rory shrugged, humbly.
"Well… I'm sorry it was like that. But you do have a choice now - I'm here. I'm here for her," his answer being a bit more serious than Rory's initial comment. He sensed the regret, guilt and sadness in his voice better than he realized.
"Don't beat yourself up too much, okay? I get it," Rory replied, and extended her arms around Logan, giving him an unexpected hug.
"Thank you… for doing this," Logan said, before the hug broke, meaning it in a multitude of ways. For keeping her. For raising her until he could be here. For giving her the opportunity to do this now.