thank you so much for reading/reviewing! glad to hear you enjoyed jess v logan as much as me. and I am so touched to see that people are rereading or have reread this story already! that makes my heart so happy.
Rated M scene (small) at the end of this chapter
enjoy xoxo
disclaimer: I own nothing
PS I apologize in advance for three kinda intense chapters in a row. i plan for the next one to be fluffier promise!
Jess pulls at his hair as he reads over the email again. His first group of students from the program are graduating high school next month. And in front of him is a list of the ones that will be going to college, and the names of those colleges. He is working with the program to help place them in paying opportunities near their new schools. He knew already that a handful of them would be attending school in New York, and therefore staying with Truncheon. Including Brandon, who he has maintained a good relationship and friendship with since that day he stole money. He was surprised when Brandon told him he is choosing to do community college in New York for a couple of years, since Jess knows how desperate he was to get away from home. But he explained that he wants to stay with Truncheon and save up more money for two more years, so he is more prepared when he does leave home. And that made Jess feel good, to see that a kid so much like himself when he was younger has developed enough to think outside of his anger. Which is something that took Jess a long time.
But there are a few students who are getting far away from home and going all the way to California to attend UCLA. A wave of anxiety crashes through him, because he wants to do everything in his power to help them get jobs in the industry they care about. He picks up his phone and calls Matt.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"Do we have any connections out in California? Near UCLA?"
"Ah," Matt makes a sound of understanding, "you've got students heading out that way too. Me and Chris were just discussing that."
"Why does everyone want to move to fucking California?"
"They're young, Jess. Everything is shiny to them. Even the smoggy streets of Hollywood."
"If they had consulted with me - "
Matt replies in a way that Jess can tell he is rolling his eyes, "you would have told them to follow their dreams whatever they may be. Don't act like you would crush any of their romantic ideas. You went to California too when you were young, did you not?"
"I didn't have a choice."
"Maybe they don't feel like they have a choice."
"At least I had my deadbeat dad there!"
"That's right," Matt says, and the positivity in his voice scares Jess, "your father does live there. Near UCLA. In Venice Beach, right?"
"It depends on the point you're about to make."
"Maybe he has connections."
"Okay. No. He moved to Alaska last year. Did I not mention that?"
"Jess…"
"The man runs a fucking hot dog business."
"Which means he meets all kinds of people all the time. And it's Venice beach, there must be tons of small book stores or publishers."
"Matt, this is a battle you're not going to win. Drop it."
His friend sighs on the line, "Fine. How are you doing with Rory traveling to Afghanistan?"
"Please don't ask me that."
"So, just peachy I take it?"
"Yeah how would you feel if your wife was on her way to a part of the world with that kind of history of terror and death?"
"I'm sorry. But…it's not as bad as it used to be, right? Isn't that why they are pulling US military out? And that's why she's there anyway, to report on the US aspect. She will be with people that have tools to keep her safe."
"Matt please…she will be in and out, and home by the end of the week. I'm just trying to get through each day."
"Sorry. I'm trying to be a good friend. I guess I just don't really know what to say or do in this situation."
"That's because there is nothing to say or do."
"Right. Hey, maybe we should get together and strategize on our student stuff. Chris and I haven't been up there in a while. You got some time tomorrow?"
"You don't have to come check on me."
"That's not the reason. We can get more done in person."
"Fine, but I don't have anywhere for you both to sleep."
"That's alright. We'll make it a day trip."
...
Matt and Chris sit across from Jess at a table in a coffee shop. It's mid-morning and they've so far skirted around the topic of California, much to Jess's delight. Plates of baked goods and mugs of hot coffee are scattered around the table. Chris has a laptop that sits near him, waiting to be opened to deal with the reason they came there. But instead, he's showing the table a recent picture of his now three year old daughter smashing cake on his head.
"Isn't the kid the one that's supposed to be covered in cake?" Jess asks, chuckling at the photo. Chris grins and nods, putting his phone down.
"Yeah. Typically. But that's not Chloe's style."
"With a mother like Mabel, I am not surprised she likes to torment you."
Chris shoots him a look, "Yeah, and I'm sure any kids of yours will be perfect treasures."
Jess half smirks and shakes his head, "as long as Rory's half of them, I think they will be fine. I'm certain her DNA blooms with kindness."
Matt regards him, "so you guys have talked about it finally?"
"Yeah, quite a few times. Starting with right after that reading I did when we opened the store here in New York."
"And we're just hearing about this now?"
He rolls his eyes, "I'm so sorry for not sharing the most personal details of my life with you guys. I know that must be weird for you since, gee, I do it all the time."
"Sarcasm is so hideous on you sometimes, especially when it's directed at me," Matt mumbles with a playful smile.
"That was three years ago…" Chris states, eyebrow raised, and then he frowns hard, "oh shit, are you guys having trouble?"
Jess heaves a sigh that indicates to the entire table his disinterest in continuing on this topic.
"You guys are extra annoying today. I'm actually starting to look forward to arguing with you over this California crap," he mutters, as he too takes out his laptop and opens it up on the table.
"Wait, Jess," Matt stops him, his tone so sincere that Jess gives him his attention, "are you having trouble? You can talk to me, you know. I really appreciated having you there when I was dealing with that with Audrey. It helps to talk about it."
The serious honesty of his words has Jess tossing out any rude response he might usually give. He slowly shakes his head.
"No. The only trouble we have had is having a scare that made it pretty clear we are not ready yet."
Matt looks him over, "I see. Both of you?"
"If she's not ready, I'm not ready. Can't exactly make a baby by myself, can I?"
"Sorry. I'm just curious, maybe wrongly so, at what's holding her back."
Jess tilts his head and replies, "Why are you so curious? It's unlike you to press me with questions like this."
Matt's face falls slightly, and he sits back in his chair. He gestures in the air before speaking.
"I…want to have another kid. But the few times I've brought it up, Audrey has sort of pushed it off. I don't know. I thought maybe hearing Rory's reasonings might make me see something that I've ignored."
Jess considers his friend's situation and tries to find a way to be helpful to him without telling them too much.
"For Rory, a big part of it is her career. She's been wanting to do what she's doing now for her whole life. But she also wants to be a present parent, which is kinda hard to do when your work requires you to travel all over the world on their schedule."
Matt nods slowly, "that makes sense. It's not really helpful to me since Audrey's work is not so demanding, but thanks for sharing that."
Jess shrugs, "just because her work isn't demanding doesn't mean she doesn't want to focus on it."
"Yeah, Mabel and I have already decided we will only have Chloe. She enjoys being a mom, but she finds it taking up so much time from doing things for herself," Chris adds in with a hint of a smile, "and I'm fine with that. Raising Chloe is like raising a pack of wolves anyway."
Matt and Jess both release a breathy laugh at that. Then Jess turns to Matt again.
"Or maybe she doesn't want to put her body through it again. Might be why she's holding back, and not explaining herself. Maybe she thinks you won't understand that."
Matt replies quickly, "I would understand that! I would be happy to adopt or use a surrogate or something."
"You need to tell her that, not us," Jess replies smartly. Matt's body deflates and he tugs at his lip.
"I'm a little afraid of the answer. I think that's why I haven't asked directly."
Jess looks his friend over, and the vulnerability he finds eases him into sharing more.
"You know what I read at the opening was inspired by Rory. Right?"
He nods.
"She has been…let down in a lot of ways specifically by men that were supposed to take care of her throughout her life. Including me in the past. But that whole experience I wrote about especially has made…procreating feel extra scary to her. And even though we have talked many times about having a family, she hadn't taken the healthiest steps to confront that stuff. I didn't even fully realize the amount of pain it caused her until recently. But she's working on that now."
"And you're okay with waiting for whenever she's ready?" Matt contemplates. Jess begins nodding before he even finishes his sentence.
"Of course. The topic won't even be brought up again unless she wants to discuss it. Even if that's not for another year, two years, five years. It doesn't matter. I don't want to put pressure on her. It's always going to be enough for me to be together."
Jess shares these words delicately and with protective caution. Matt gives him a soft, grateful smile.
"I get it. I don't think I knew that the story you wrote was so factual."
"Good. That's what I wanted anyway. For people to care more about the story itself than where it came from."
"Speaking of stories," Chris steps in, "have you been writing anything? I've been having some powerful bouts of creativity lately. I think I might have some new poetry to publish soon."
"Nice, what about? Being a servant to your fearless daughter?" Jess teases with a smirk, then nods and says, "and yes, actually. I started something a couple summers ago, around my birthday. I had been slowly kinda forming it into something more, and then this stuff with Rory happened and inspiration struck hard."
"Thank god, I'm glad you two are writing. We don't need to talk about how long it's been since I've contributed anything new to Truncheon."
"Well, you do have two kids. I'm sure they take up a lot of your time," Jess shrugs, trying to make Matt feel better.
"And they suck up a lot of my energy too. Anyway, tell me more. Both of you."
"My poems are inspired by Chloe, Jess was right about that," Chris admits and Jess smiles smugly, "but more like about the beauty in the smallest human interactions. How some of my favorite moments with her are simply…cleaning dirt off her hands, cutting the yoke out of her eggs because she doesn't like that it's yellow, or just moving hair out of her face for her while her hands are preoccupied. All those little things you know. They always hit me in the depths of my heart."
Both Matt and Jess grin longingly, understanding exactly what he means in their own ways.
"That sounds beautiful, Chris," Matt affirms, "and what about you Jess?"
He takes a beat before responding.
"I think it's going to be a companion piece to my last book. But you can't read any of it until I show Rory first. Personal stuff in there I need her to approve of."
Matt looks at him curiously, "what do you mean a companion piece?"
Jess sighs and just comes out with it, "short stories about fathers and experiences involving them. Or, more often, not involving them as is the case with mine and Rory's sperm donors."
Matt and Chris look at each other and then back at Jess, slow grins forming on their faces.
"Brilliant. That's fucking brilliant, man," Matt praises him, causing Jess to shake his head.
"Better wait to read it before you can make that claim."
"No, it's going to be great, Jess. Your last book did really well, you know," Chris insists and then smiles wide as he gets an idea, "oh! We can do a re-release of that book and sell them together when this new one comes out. A Truncheon packaged deal, and another way for us to make money."
"Great idea," Matt agrees, hitting his hand on the table with excitement, then he turns to Jess, "so, when do we get to read it?"
"Like I said, I need Rory to read it first. There's stuff in there about her father, the…almost father of her child," Jess shivers with disgust as he says that, "and, well, my uncle of course. He's like a father to both of us."
Chris makes a face, "That's kinda weird when you say it like that."
"Shut up."
"Speaking of fathers," Matt cuts in and taps Jess's laptop, "let's call yours and see if he knows any publishers or book stores for our youngins."
"I do not believe that we don't have a different route to take than asking my oblivious father."
"Well, Chris does know someone in the industry out there but uh…" Matt starts and his eyes shift, deferring to the man himself. He scratches his head.
"I, um, slept with her a few times and then ghosted her when I left town. Years ago, obviously. I was just visiting. Not my proudest moment."
"Honestly, I still think we have a better shot with her. Were you at least a good lay? To her, I mean," Jess brazenly asks.
Chris frowns, "what are you implying? Of course I took care of her."
"Great, then you probably have a one up on most of the dudes she's ever slept with. Hit her up."
"Okay, but, you know Mabel. You know I'm going to have to tell her that you guys asked me to reach out to someone I have slept with for a favor. And you both fucking know I'm going to get disemboweled."
Jess rolls his eyes, but Matt turns to look at him.
"He's right, you know. That's not really fair. What if someone at Rory's job asked her to reach out to an ex for a favor?"
"I would say good, he owes her about a thousand more."
"Okay, well you're a fucking weirdo. We can't ask Chris to reach out to this woman. Can you just ask your dad? What's the harm?"
"Oh, it will just make my skin crawl, my sanity vanish, and make me want to cut my tongue out of my mouth if I have to ask him for a favor. No big deal."
"How about I ask him? Give me his info."
Jess shoots him a look, "And let him have a conversation with someone important to me? Not happening."
Matt flashes a pleased smile, "I'm important to you?"
"How the hell do we not have any business connections there? We are a publishing company!" Jess exclaims, ignoring Matt's comment. Both men shrug.
"We're an east coast publishing company though. Most of the people we work with come to us in person. Why would we have connections in California?" Matt argues, with another shrug.
"Fuck Okay. Fine. I'll reach out to him. Where else do we need to find contacts?" Jess grumbles, pulling up his list of students.
"I've got one going to Austin, Texas. Either of you know someone there?" Chris asks looking between them.
"I actually have a cousin in that area. She runs a local staffing company, so she will be knowledgeable of opportunities. Send me the student's info, please," Matt instructs, and all three of them have suddenly transformed into work mode. Another hour passes quickly, with them focused and harmonizing over setting up as many students as they can in their world of books, writing and publishing. Wanting to keep them interested and feeling like their voices are valued, rather than recommending they work a job that they will hate just because they are young and in need of money.
Jess's phone vibrating on the table breaks his concentration. He has not heard from Rory since she landed in Dubai for her layover the previous day. He's been anxiously, but quietly, awaiting more contact from her since. He swiftly leans forward and picks his phone up from its facedown position. But he sighs in disappointment as he realizes the other Lorelai is calling him.
"Hi, Lorelai Senior."
"Jess," the tone of her voice immediately has hair standing up on his neck, "have you heard from Rory?"
He sits up straight in his seat. Worry bites ferociously in the pit of his stomach.
"Not since she landed in Dubai. But I know she had a lot of shit to do, like get a visa and other stuff. She said her schedule was jam packed. I've been trying not to worry. Do I need to worry?"
Matt and Chris both look up at him, eyes wide and concerned at not only the words Jess is saying, but the rapid speed at which he's delivering them. They hear panic erupting through him like a hot volcano.
"I'm freaking out Jess," and he is further disturbed by the trembling fright in her voice, "I haven't heard from her since then either, and-and I was looking at news stories on my phone and I saw that there was a bombing, and I don't even know if it's exactly where she was heading but there are fifty casualties so far and Jess, oh my god. I don't know what to do. I've called her over and over again and her phone keeps going to voicemail, and all of my texts are sending green instead of blue! I was so fucking desperately hoping you had heard from her."
Jess is momentarily debilitated by fear; it grips his throat, seizes his chest. His eyes are wide and staring, but they're looking through anything in front of him at a horizon of terrifying possibilities. Suddenly, Luke's voice is on the line, and it snaps his attention back.
"Jess, I know you're scared. But it's better if we do something. Do you have the contact information for anyone that she works with?"
He swallows down the bile threatening to rise in his throat and starts walking to the door to leave the coffee shop. Matt and Chris don't bother trying to get his attention as they can tell he's got tunnel vision.
"At home. She has a list of their numbers on her office desk at home," he thinks he says this out loud to Luke, but his voice sounds a million miles away as he speed walks towards their apartment.
"Okay great. I'm going to get off the phone to try and calm Lorelai down, but please send us the phone numbers once you have them. We can try them all and see if they have any information. Okay?"
The response that comes out of Jess is a concerning mix of a whimper and grunt.
"Jess…it's going to be okay. We will get a hold of her, and she will be okay."
His eyes fill with tears, and he has to stop walking for a moment because he can't see two feet in front of him.
"But what if she's not? I'm fucking…afraid," he confesses, and he sounds like a terrified child to his uncle.
"I know," Luke responds quietly, "I know, Jess. We're scared too. But don't let your fear overcome you, okay? Go to your apartment and get those phone numbers. We will get information."
Jess takes a trembling breath and wipes a hand across his eyes.
"Okay. I'm almost there," he responds in a shaken whisper as he starts walking again.
"Okay. Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No. Go take care of Lorelai. I'll call you back."
"Okay," Luke replies and then pauses. In an almost unrecognizable tone he says, "Jess. You know how much I care about you, right? I'm here for you."
His words give Jess just enough of a surge of confidence to break into a jog.
"I know. Thank you. I'll call you soon."
He hangs up and runs the rest of the way to their home. He runs up the two flights of stairs to their apartment, not feeling any of the fatigue in his body that he usually does taking them. Everything except getting this information is secondary to his senses right now. His hands shake as he pulls out his keys to unlock the door. He drops them and exhales a violent sounding, "fuck!"
Quickly he picks them up and gets inside. He almost steps on the cat as he marches with sharp focus in the direction of their office, but he doesn't notice. He kicks the door open and practically jumps to her desk. His eyes search it; it's clean and organized, and the list of phone numbers should be easily spotted as he remembers she had them taped on top of her desk. But he doesn't see anything except pens, post its and paper clips. Heat pricks at the back of his eyes as his mind goes into overdrive without his permission, already conceptualizing a thousand terrible things. He starts opening desk drawers, raking through them with haphazard speed.
"Please, please, please," he starts to beg out loud, and when he gets to the last drawer of the desk he slams it shut and starts to shake hard, "for the love of God! If I can't fucking keep her safe at least give me this!"
His fist hits the desk with a powerful pound; his knuckles ache but he can't feel a damn thing except the choking fright creeping up his throat again.
"Oh fuck," he mutters as he feels bile rising from his stomach. He grabs the small, pink trash can from under her desk and retches into it. But the clearing of the dread in his stomach gives him momentary clarity. He wipes his mouth with a tissue and pulls out his phone, checking to see if it will be faster to take an uber to the New York Times office or the subway. He begins to walk out of the office, eyes laser focused on his screen. He blinks back the wetness still sitting in his eyes.
As he turns to walk towards the front door, he hears it open. His eyes snap up and are met with the most calming pair of blues he has ever seen. His chest swells, and the tears he was trying to hold back start to fall.
"Jess, I didn't think you'd be home," Rory states as she shuts the door behind her and places her bag down. She turns back to look at him, "Oh my god, are you crying? What's wrong?"
He rushes at her, enclosing her so tightly in his arms she coughs.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, moving a hand to hold the back of her head; wanting to feel her soft hair and her warm skin against his fingers.
"What's going on?" she asks, voice fragile and confused. He pulls back for a moment with a sniff and leans down to pick up his phone off the floor where he dropped it. He hands it to her, "call your mom right now."
His tone and the look on his face has her doing it without question. He listens and can hear Lorelai's similar sob of relief as Rory talks to her. He takes the phone and says, "she's okay. I'm sorry I need to talk to her, we'll call you back." and he hangs up.
He looks at the woman so precious to him, taking in her look of confusion and nervousness. He closes his eyes and takes a breath; his hands squeeze gently at the flesh of her body, assuring him that she is really here and okay. He opens his eyes again and swallows.
"There was a bombing in Afghanistan today. A lot of casualties. It's horrible. And we hadn't heard from you since you landed in Dubai."
Rory gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. Immediately, she comprehends the distress of the situation. Her eyes water.
"Oh my god, that's terrible. I'm so so sorry. Oh god," she leans forward and holds him tight, "I'm sorry. I never even made it to Afghanistan. I was supposed to get a visa in Dubai, but they wouldn't grant me one, and sent me back home on the next flight. But I left my bag of chargers on my first flight by accident. My phone and laptop died, and I just figured I would be fine to come home and charge them here rather than pay way too much for new chargers at the airport. I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep on the flight home anyway. I'm so sorry. That was so selfish of me, I wasn't thinking at all."
"It's okay, Rory," he assures her in a gentle whisper against her head, "It's fine. I'm just so fucking relieved you're safe."
"I guess I'm lucky they didn't give me that visa," she pulls back and looks at him; his eyes are red and his hair a mess, "I'm really sorry. I can't imagine how scared you guys have been. I feel terrible."
"You're alive. That's all that matters," he leans forward and kisses her head, then mumbles against it, "I threw up in your office trash can. I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new one."
"Oh, Jess," she says, voice dripping with guilt and sympathy, "I'm so sorry."
He kisses her head again, "I need to brush my teeth so I can kiss you properly." He steps back but doesn't let go of her hand. He hesitates like that, eyes not wanting to leave her.
She gives him a small smile and says, "I'll go with you."
He breathes in deeply through his nose, still trying to allow calm to settle throughout him. She pulls gently on his hand and leads him to the bathroom. He watches her take out his tooth brush and toothpaste, then squeeze it onto the bristles. She holds it out to him with a supportive smile. His chest warms as he realizes she's taking care of him. He leans forward to kiss her head in gratitude, before taking the toothbrush. His eyes don't leave her as he brushes his teeth and tongue; preparing to give Rory a staggering kiss to convey the flurry of feelings he's felt for the last hour. And even as he turns to the sink to finish, his eyes find her in the mirror. He turns to her again, his body feels alight with relief; blood courses through his veins, carrying the love for her from his heart through every part of him.
"I love you. So fucking much," he just barely utters the words out before capturing her mouth in an overwhelming kiss, just as he planned. Her body presses closely to his, her arms wrapping around his middle. His hands lift to hold her face; his fingers pressing gently into her skin and between her hair. His thumbs caress her cheeks in continuous circles like he's still trying to convince himself that she's really there. He only pulls away when he feels them both straining to catch their breath. He presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes.
"I wish I could crawl inside you and watch your heart beat."
His words are a whisper laced with agony and yearning that she can feel all the way down to her stomach. She gulps and pulls back; he slowly opens his eyes, and she meets them intently.
"You don't have to," she whispers back, her hands squeeze against his back, "I'm here, Jess. I'm okay."
He listens to her words, body settling slightly more into a normal state - not quite relaxation, which he thinks he won't feel completely for a while, but something milder than absolute panic. He nods and spends some time just staring at her before a thought occurs to him.
"I should take you to Stars Hollow. Your mom will want to see you in person too."
Rory smiles softly, "Okay. That's a good idea. Can I borrow your phone so I can call her back and let her know? Mine is still dead…"
He takes it out of his pocket and hands it to her. He watches her make the call. The thoughts in his head are so loud he doesn't hear the details of the conversation, but his attention is grabbed when a he hears quiet laughter escape her and a smile on her face. It almost makes him smile too.
"They're already on their way here," she explains, handing his phone back to him, "she said she was already running to her car when she heard my voice earlier. Though it is my mom, I'm sure she was exaggerating on the running part. Probably a light jog if anything."
He musters the twitch of a grin, "No, I think in this case she probably was running, as crazy as that sounds."
Rory smiles but it turns into something regretful, and she looks down at the floor.
"She was really scared too I guess?"
He places his fingers under her chin and tilts her face back up to him. He braves an actual smile for her.
"Of course. She loves you. It's okay," he promises, thumb ghosting over her chin, "It's not a bad thing that people were worried about you."
That changes her look to something more neutral and she nods.
"Are you hungry? Do you want coffee?" that line of thought makes him remember something and he curses, "Matt and Chris. They're in town today. I left them at a coffee shop when your mom called me looking for you. By the way, I need all of the contact information for the people you work with. Superiors, subordinates, co-workers - any one that knows you at the New York Times. Please."
Her head moves in a dizzying circle as his words come barreling out at her. She puts her hands on his face and covers his lips with hers quickly.
"Jess, I've been traveling for almost three days straight. Have you ever been on a twenty two hour plane ride back to back?"
He grimaces and shakes his head.
"I need to shower and eat real food and unpack. Because I know when mom gets here she's going to demand my full attention."
Not wanting to separate from her, he quickly offers, "I'll run a bath for us. I just saw one of those bath fizzy things you love the other day, I think under the sink."
He turns to open that cabinet, but she stops him with a hand on his arm.
"Call your friends. Let them know everything is fine. I'm going to get in the shower. I will be right here," she points to the glass encased shower, "okay?"
He reluctantly sighs and nods, turning slowly to the bedroom to make his call.
"Are you okay? Is Rory okay?" Matt asks after picking up the call after only one ring.
"Yes. She's okay. She's home actually. She never made it there."
Matt sighs in relief on the line.
"Thank God. We are so relieved to hear that. I'm sure not nearly as much as you. How fast would you have flung yourself off a building if that weren't the case?"
"Don't even fucking joke about it. That's not funny. I'm still recovering," he reprimands, in a tone that he's sure has Matt wincing.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry. If you haven't noticed I'm terrible at this kind of thing. It's just, I have never seen you like that, so…panicked and unnerved."
"And I hope you never will again."
"Agreed," Matt replies, and after a beat he says, "we're at your Truncheon. Figured you would need the rest of the day off. We'll handle things here. You spend time with Rory."
"Thank you. I'll…call you when my mind and soul are back on this planet."
"Sounds good. Bye Jess."
He ends the call and looks at the now closed bathroom door. The sounds of the shower running soothe him slightly, but he already desperately wants to see her again. He quickly undresses, clothes piled up on the bedroom floor and phone left on the bed. He pushes the door to the bathroom open and steps inside; behind it he finds Rory in the shower, with her head in her hands and body shaking. His heart aches, and he prepares himself to switch roles with her. She clearly needs his strength now. He slowly opens the shower door, and the draft of cool air causes her to turn around. In the comfort of his presence, her face crumples and she cries harder. He carefully steps into the shower and joins her under the flow of hot water. He takes her in his arms, holding her head to his chest and murmurs repeatedly, "it's okay. Everything is okay."
She stays in his soothing arms until her skin feels prune-like from the shower. She takes a deep breath and pulls back just enough to look at his face.
"I love you too, by the way. So fucking much."
The corner of his mouth quirks up. He leans down to kiss her lips delicately.
"I know."
Now her lips perk up in the corners, but she frowns and looks down at the tiled floor as she shares,
"My therapist just recently asked me about the stress of my job. I told her it's not as bad as some people might think, that I've feared more for other people's lives than mine."
He observes her, listening to every word with intense interest. She then looks up at him, and her look is one of internal torment that tugs at his heart. In a soft voice she confesses,
"I didn't realize how much of a privilege that was until now."
Hours later, Rory sits between her mom and Jess at a local Mexican restaurant. Next to Lorelai is Luke. Across the table sit Matt and Chris as well, who Rory insisted Jess invite so they could treat them for covering the store. As she suspected, Lorelai has been attached to her hip since arriving in New York that afternoon. And while she understands the behavior, she's felt overwhelmed by the attention. She's had Jess, Lorelai and Luke all trying to be at her beck and call that day, when all she really wants to do is curl up on the couch with the cat and Jess and watch a movie or read a book.
A waiter comes to the table to take drink orders, and Lorelai takes the lead,
"A pitcher of margaritas everyone? Yes. Okay great. You know what, make it two pitchers. One strawberry. We need them."
Jess and Rory exchange an amused look.
"Lorelai, you're going to get drunk," Luke chastises as the waiter walks away.
"I think it's a great idea," Matt shrugs with a smile, "Chris and I got a hotel room for the night anyway."
"Yeah, I can get drunk," Lorelai argues to Luke, "I'm sleeping over."
"You are?" Rory questions and tries not to show any disappointment, "We don't have an extra bed or anything."
Jess turns his head and looks at her curiously, sensing she's not excited about this plan. He isn't either but is surprised to hear her mirror that sentiment.
"Oh, doesn't matter. I'm sleeping with you and Jess."
"Lorelai!" Luke exclaims, throwing his hands up, "what about me? I drove you here."
"I'm sorry Luke, I'm never letting her out of my sight again! You can sleep on the bedroom floor. Or maybe their couch if you want."
"Uh, do you maybe want to check with me and your daughter on that plan?" Jess inquires with a sarcastic smile. Lorelai pretends to think about it and shrugs.
"No, not really."
"Mom…" Rory sighs, "I'm fine. There was no threat to my life at all. You are making too big a deal out of this."
"I didn't know that! It feels like something terrifying happened, Rory."
"Yes, something terrifying did happen, but not to me!" she replies, voice bordering on pleading. Jess places a hand on her leg under the table. Before Lorelai can reply, the waiter drops off the margaritas and they place their food orders.
"You want strawberry or regular?" Jess turns and asks Rory with a gentle smile.
She matches his look, "Strawberry, please. But I can pour it myself."
He winks and nods, handing her the pitcher, "here you go, Jane."
She turns to him with a questioning look, and he leans in to whisper in her ear, "You're my favorite independent woman. Never forget."
His words, quoted from a note he gave her with Jane Eyre that one Christmas, puts a smitten smile on her face.
"Shall we cheers?" Chris asks the table, holding up a glass.
"Yes, but please not to me," Rory mumbles, picking up her drink. Matt and Chris look at each other and smirk.
"Okay. Cheers to me and Chris for talking Jess into doing something annoying."
"Well, that's the vaguest cheers I've ever heard," Lorelai mutters, clinking her glass around.
"Oh that's one of my favorite pastimes," Luke teases, lifting his glass of water in lieu of alcohol, "what did you get him to do?"
Jess rolls his eyes and takes a large sip of his drink.
"It's not for Matt and Chris. It's for our students. We need a contact in or around Los Angeles to help find some jobs in books, writing or publishing."
"And you are…going to go door to door asking? Like the Mormons?" Lorelai questions. He shakes his head and sighs.
"Nope. I'm going to…ask Jimmy to help me find someone."
Rory turns to look at him, "You are?"
"That's the plan."
"I think that's a great idea," Luke shrugs, "guy owes you at least a thousand favors."
Matt and Chris look sharply as Luke repeats words that Jess said earlier that day.
"Wow, you two are a lot more alike than I realized," Chris mumbles into his glass.
"Do you want to ask Jimmy?" Rory implores kindly, putting her hand over his on her leg. He meets her eyes and shakes his head.
"No. We just don't have a lot of options."
She nods and turns her body slightly to address all three of them, "I have a contact in LA. My friend Doyle works for a production company. So, Jess doesn't need to ask Jimmy if he doesn't want to, if you think the students might be interested in that? He is a writer, so I'm sure he can help."
"Doyle as in Paris's arrogant ex?" Jess clarifies with a raised brow.
"Yes, and yes he is still arrogant. But he will help."
Jess releases a heavy breath of relief, "that would be amazing."
She smiles and nods, "yeah, I think so. What do you guys think?"
"As proud as I am for talking Jess into asking his dad, this sounds way better. Thank you, Rory," Matt nods and holds his drink up to her. Chris voices his agreement, and this time the group does cheers to her. Jess, feeling deeply grateful and in awe of his girlfriend, decides he knows exactly what he wants to do when it's just the two of them at home tonight.
As they finish eating, the group argues about whether to get dessert there or somewhere else. Rory's phone vibrates against the table in the middle of arguing her case to get cookies at Levain. Her eyes shift down to see who's calling and she does a double take. Jess looks over at her as she picks it up with a confused look.
"Um, my dad is calling me," she looks up at Jess, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Lorelai make a face. She quickly turns to her.
"Do you know why he's calling me?"
Lorelai shrugs one shoulder up guiltily, "Maybe. I was worried about you, Rory and he's your father. He had a right to know that you were potentially in danger!"
Rory huffs out an exasperated breath and stands up to take the call outside. In her absence, Lorelai looks between Jess and Luke.
"Why does it feel like I'm doing everything wrong today? Is she mad at me?"
Luke places a comforting arm around her shoulders and gives her a small smile but defers to Jess to answer. He looks out the window to get a glimpse that Rory is safely outside before he attempts to respond.
"No, she's not mad at you. I think it just feels a little…wrong to her to be sort of celebrating something like this. Plus, we've been making a fuss over her all day. Did you not hear her comment about pouring her own margarita?"
Lorelai frowns and shakes her head, "Totally missed it. I guess I understand. It was just so scary, you know? We didn't know she wasn't even anywhere near it."
Jess nods and gives her an uncharacteristically kind smile, "I know. We didn't do anything wrong. I think she just feels almost guilty. And I think she needs some space."
"Fine, I won't sleep over," Lorelai pouts and then more seriously says, "has her dad not tried to reach out in a while do you know? She looked more surprised than I expected."
"You know what happened in Paris."
"Yes, but that was two years ago! They haven't spoken since then?" Lorelai asks with wide eyes. Luke grunts next to her, "such an idiot."
Jess looks up at the window again, to see Rory is also looking in the window at him. The phone is pressed up against her ear, and she's actively chewing on her lips. Her free arm is crossed over her chest; she looks uncomfortable and annoyed.
"I think he's called her on holidays and her birthdays. But that's it," Jess mumbles a quick response to Lorelai as he stands up and starts walking away from the table, "I'll be right back."
He walks outside, and the way Rory's body visibly relaxes makes him feel good. In an effort to save her, he loudly says,
"Hey, we're all ready to go get dessert."
She smiles gratefully and says into her phone, "Dad, I have to go. Okay. Bye."
With a deep breath and her eyes closed, Jess walks up and envelopes her in a hug.
"Thank you," she murmurs against his shoulder.
"Sorry. I know you're tired of being fawned over today, but you didn't look happy."
"Believe me, I am grateful for this sort of savior."
"What did he say? Anything good?" he asks, pulling back to look at her face. She shakes her head and looks past him.
"Just things that irked me. He was acting like mom almost, saying that he's so happy I'm home safe and he hopes I never go near something that dangerous again…"
"But, he's not your mom. And you don't have that kind of relationship with him," Jess finishes her thought, and she turns her eyes to meet his again. She doesn't need to confirm that; he can see it in her face, the slight alleviation at feeling understood without needing to explain herself further. She opens and closes her lips, and Jess waits patiently for her to speak.
"I'm sorry. I know everyone wants to spend time with me, and get dessert, and I know you all mean well. I just…I want to go home. I want to sit in our living room and just…have a normal evening. With you. And Sabrina."
He looks her over; his right hand lifts and pushes her hair back from her shoulder, then rests at the nape of her neck.
"Okay. That's what we'll do."
They sit together peacefully on the couch in their living room, just like Rory wanted. With Sabrina curled up in her lap and Jess's arm wrapped around her holding her close. Clueless plays on the television in front of them, as she desired to watch something light and with a happy ending. Jess's fingers run repeatedly through the ends of her hair, kissing her head every once in a while. As a scene plays out between Cher and her father, Jess gets the compulsion to go through with the plan he thought of during dinner. He looks down at Rory - taking in the gray sweatpants she borrowed from his closet, paired with a tight black tank top - with a hesitant smile.
"Ror," he says softly. She turns her head and adjusts herself to look back at him.
"I have something I've been wanting to show you."
"Okay. What is it?"
He picks up the remote next to him and pauses the movie. He stands up from the couch and holds his hand out to her. She sweetly moves the cat from her lap to the empty space next to her before taking his hand. She follows him the short walk to their shared office and watches as he turns on the lights and opens his laptop. He takes a seat in the chair at his desk and pats his lap for her to join him. She situates herself comfortably on his legs, and before he starts doing anything on his computer, his arms wrap around and squeeze her lovingly. Then, before her eyes he logs in and opens up what looks like a word document. The words The Absent Father are centered at the top of the page. She gasps softly.
"Is this what you told me about? What you worked on when we…dealt with the pregnancy scare?"
He kisses her shoulder and then murmurs his response against her,
"Yes. But I started it before that. The day after my birthday two years ago."
"When you were in here all day writing," she adds in a whisper, she turns her head to look at him, "are you going to let me read it?"
He nods.
"Why now?"
He looks over her curious face, and wonders if she even realizes the type of kindness and care she showed him.
"It meant a lot to me, you taking care of me today. When you got home earlier, and also at dinner. When you could tell how uncomfortable I really felt about asking Jimmy for help and bailed me out. And then you had that call with your father, and I thought…today might be a good day to show you."
As he speaks, her lips curl into a cherishing smile. She tilts her head slightly to place a soft kiss on his lips. Then he continues,
"And, I've…added pieces since that summer. About your father, about…Logan. About Luke," he swallows down the desire to quell his vulnerability, "I have to tell you something else."
Her look is soft but expectant. He puffs out a breath and then comes clean about something he wasn't planning on telling her about.
"Logan showed up here, that day we argued and then you went to see Paris."
Her eyes widen, "You're kidding?"
"I know it sounds like a cruel joke, but no. He showed up. Claimed that he wanted to congratulate you on your award."
Her eyes roll up to the ceiling in thought, "huh. I did get a ridiculous Starbucks gift card from him some time after that. He put like three hundred dollars on it but no note. I only knew it was from him because it came from his email address."
"Good," he replies easily, "you deserve much more than that but I'm glad he did that."
She looks back at him, face pensive.
"What happened?"
Jess sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
"I…gave him a piece of my mind. Every piece, actually, that I had been holding onto since 2016."
Her eyes roam over his face, and ever so gently, a teasing smile graces her lips.
"Did you record it?"
He blinks and then laughs, "No. What was said only needed to be heard by him."
The big smile on her face softens, "I understand why you didn't tell me then. With everything that was going on. And it's just like Logan to show up and cross every obvious boundary because he wants to. I'm sorry you had to deal with him."
He shrugs a shoulder.
"Rather it be me than you."
She leans forward and kisses his lips gently, "thank you. I'm sure you protected me fiercely. You always do."
His eyes light up, and he gives her a touched look.
"I'm glad you feel that way."
"It's the truth. Even today, you somehow talked my very stubborn mother into not sleeping over and also skipping dessert."
"I'm sure she didn't actually skip dessert," Jess smirks knowingly. She giggles.
"Knowing her, I'm sure she didn't. She either begged Luke to stop on the way home or make her something at the diner. But you got everyone out of my space so that I wouldn't have to be the one to push them away. I really appreciate when you do those things for me. I want you to know that."
His eyes stay locked with hers, and he blindly finds one of her hands and brings her knuckles to his lips.
"Thank you. I'm happy to be that person for you."
She smiles back at him, "Can I start reading it?"
"You can, or I can send it to you. Give you something new to read during your travels."
She bites her lip in thought, turning back to the document. It would be nice to save it and read on her own time. After mulling it over for a minute, she turns back to Jess.
"I want to save most of it but…can I read what you wrote about my dad?" her voice is fragile, soft and childlike. He kisses her head.
"Of course. Let me find it," he leans forward to get his hands on the keyboard and mouse. His head moves slightly to the side of her body and presses against her shoulder. She puts her head on top of his and settles in the tight space his body has created.
"Okay, it starts here," he murmurs, leaving the cursor in place. She stares at it as he sits back and places his hands on her hips.
"I'm going to go make us some tea," he nudges gently until she stands up to let him off the chair. He leans forward to kiss her head again, "take your time with this, okay? I'll be back."
As he walks away, she turns back to the computer. She takes a moment, and then begins to read. This chapter is titled The Disappearing Act, and that alone tells her that whatever Jess has written is definitely going to resonate with her. Because that was Christopher's MO throughout her childhood; one second he was there, and then he wasn't. She reads the words Jess crafted and pored over, the delicate analyzation of the man that had one foot in and out the door of her life since she was born. He captures the innocent ignorance of fathering a child at sixteen years old; the infantile desire her father had to be with her mother above all else. While simultaneously raking him over the coals for his abandonment of fatherly responsibility. He writes of the contingencies placed on his relationship with his daughter due to his obsession with her mother, and the obvious inability or refusal to grow out of it. The way Rory's life was wrongly less valuable to him without Lorelai in it. Jess has captured her most accurately and beautifully, as the innocent casualty of a selfish man. The story ends with:
But the one he failed is now calm, clever and full of love because her mother gave her more than enough. And to her it's not a game; he's not needed, and she will let him fall free into the void he created himself. Yet if he were to stick out an apologetic hand, she would hold it no doubt. Because the difference between them is she is intrinsically strong and kind; while he is weak and blinded by a delusion that spans time.
For the disappearing father it wasn't worth the reminder of something he couldn't have, to fight for something he could. Only showing up when there was a speckle of a chance at the future he wanted and gone at the second there was any indication of it floating away.
But the loss is entirely his; because the love she held for him has been poured into those that understand what they have. It's kept safe and secure in hearts without limits or conditions, places where it's nurtured and revered. And never neglected.
And we have given her back more than you ever could. You wasted the precious opportunity of experiencing such a bright and gentle love; and you're not the only one to have made that mistake but you were the first. Your deflective excuses speak only to your lack of courage to try harder. Because we all know the door was never closed; you just imagined it being that way to feel better about not walking through it.
The change in language to directly address her father is poignant, and she feels its depth as her throat tightens with emotion. And just as she finishes the last words, an inviting cup of lavender tea is placed within her blurred vision. She sniffs and turns to face the man that can read and interpret her mind and her heart so well. His eyes roam over her with pause and concern, hoping that she's not crying for the wrong reasons. And then, without warning or any indication, she jumps up from the chair and into his arms. He calms all over and holds her close to him.
"So beautiful," Rory whispers near his ear, "it hurts, but in the best way. Everything you create is so beautiful."
He holds her tighter and brushes his lips against her cheek.
"He's an idiot, Rory."
She sniffs and releases a small laugh.
"I know. But in your writing you put that much more eloquently. Very impressive."
Now he laughs softly and moves a hand to her head. He pulls away from their tight hold to kiss her mouth, and as he pulls away he asks,
"So you would be okay with me publishing that? If I decide to?"
She nods deeply, "absolutely."
Then she gasps, "Oh my god, I'm an idiot too. I just realized you did short stories about mothers and now you're doing ones about fathers. So smart. I love that concept so much, Jess."
He grins, "you're not an idiot. But yes, that's the idea. I need to add more to it, and more thoroughly edit it. It's definitely going to be smaller than the first book."
"That makes sense though, and I think it will serve the point of the novel well. The lack in number of stories totally correlates with the lack of presence of your father. And mine. I'm assuming a lot of the stories will be about Luke?"
"I think so. Right now, I have two bigger pieces with him. One for his involvement in your life and one for mine. Might break it up into multiple shorter stories. I haven't decided yet."
Listening to him strategize and talk about his work with her leaves a proud grin on her face. And this combined with the profound depth of the words he gave her, has her feelings all over.
She covers his mouth with hers and kisses him deeply. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck and his around her waist. She explores every inch of his mouth she can reach; his tongue is hot from tea, and she can taste the sweet lavender flavor leftover. They part to come up for air, Jess's eyes go to her lips which are red and plump from the fierceness of their kiss. She looks at his eyes and says in a potent whisper, "let's go to the bedroom."
His hands move from her waist to the back of her legs, and he lifts her up smoothly. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he walks them carefully to their room like that, while she places hot kisses all over his neck.
He drops her gently on the bed, letting her legs hang off the side. She tugs off her tank top and he watches with fixation as her breasts bounce free from it. His hands immediately hold them while he leans down to kiss her. He feels her tugging at the band of the sweatpants she's wearing, near where his hips are resting on hers. He pulls back to give her room and helps her pull them off completely. Having no underwear on, her mesmerizing body is completely exposed to him. She leans back on her elbows, looking up at him with expectant, dark eyes.
"Take your clothes off. Please."
His eyes move from where he was perusing to meet hers. The side of his mouth moves towards a smirk, and he does as she says swiftly. His hard on meets the side of the bed as he leans over again to kiss her; his hand dances down the curves of her body until he reaches his destination at the apex of her legs. With two fingers, he tenderly parts her lips and pushes inside. She moans into his mouth at the feeling. But after just a few strokes of his hand, she breaks their kiss.
"I want you inside me. I don't want to wait."
He senses a desperation in her tone, and quickly ascribes it to a similar desire he had earlier that day. The need to be as close as possible.
"Okay," he nods and kisses her once more. Taking his fingers from inside her, he turns to the nightstand nearby and opens the drawer.
"No," she stops him, "I really need to feel you."
And he realizes his theory was correct; she wants them as close as humanly possible. They had been using condoms again since the late period incident, wanting to take an extra precaution.
"Are you sure?" he questions, looking her over for any hesitancy, "I don't want you to do anything you might regret."
She answers fast and assertively, "I'm sure. Please."
He isn't going to ask her again, because in reality he wants the same thing. With all the stress of the day, and the panic at the possibility of not feeling her warm body against his ever again, being as physically close as possible might be the ultimate comfort. He stands between her legs and grips her calves softly, urging her to lift them and wrap them around him again. She moves them wordlessly while he holds her at the hips to tug her body closer to him. He looks down between them, watching as he enters her. Relishing in the feeling of her body heat surrounding him, signifying to all parts of him that she is fully okay. His eyes cast from their hips up to her face. The noises she makes are quiet hums of satisfaction, and her eyes are closed. He moves a hand from her hip to her pink face, wanting to feel the heat there too. Slowly she opens her eyes; they reflect his same sentiments of relief and gratitude. He pushes a little more into her, taking his sweet time. Her plush lips part, and in an affected mumble she softly demands, "Deeper."
He inches in more, throat thrumming in pleasure as she gets tighter around him.
"Jess," her voice is a quiet whine, "more. Please."
Their hazy eyes lock as he pushes in further, getting to a point where she has to gasp in a breath. He stops, feeling that he's hit a wall and not wanting to push her more. She shakes her head.
"Keep going."
"Baby…"
"You won't hurt me," she swears, and she reaches up to touch his face, "please. As deep as you can. I want you to be a part of me. Just for tonight."
His concerned look softens into a warm look of understanding.
"Okay," he leans forward to press his lips against hers, "tell me if it's too much, okay?"
"It won't be. Please, Jess."
Her words and body language radiate want and an emotional desperation that transfers easily to him. He wastes no more time attempting to find more space to take over inside her. Her body trembles as he pushes gradually deeper. He watches her face for signs of pain or discomfort as he fills her as thoroughly as possible. When he hits a literal wall, she sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling. It makes him want to pull out completely, but her words stop him, "Yes. Don't move."
Their bodies are locked together so tightly, toeing the line between pain and pleasure. He stares down at her pleased face; one hand lazily exploring her body - fingers feeling the outline of her ribs, the dip at her navel, the pebbled peachy skin around her nipple.
He whispers to her, "that's as far as I can go." She nods and lifts both hands to hold his face.
"Can we stay just like this? For a little while."
His fingers trail up to her neck, delicately gliding over the bumps of her throat and up her chin. His thumb traces her lips, eyes stuck in fascination at their softness; at the feeling of her breath escaping and breezing over his skin. She moves them into a pout under his finger, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. A smile blooms on his face, and he meets her eyes again.
He finally says, "As long as we need."