"For Choices" Chapter 6 (Gilmore Girls)
FINALLY I was able to get away from school work long enough to finish this! Oi. It's the end of the first quarter and thing have been crazy for the past couple of weeks. Granted, I have to go right back to school work, but whatever...at least I have a chapter for ya. :) It's a little longer than usual, to apologize. Enjoy; I can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much for reading and/or reviewing. :) Especially reviewing. ;)
Chapter 6
Under normal circumstances Rory wouldn't have gone back to Stars Hollow until the next weekend, but after the confusion with Jess the night before she felt the urge for Luke's coffee and her mother's company. Thus, with the semi-flexibility a newspaper job afforded, she left work earlier than usual and drove the twenty-some miles miles home. Lorelai was still at the inn, but promised to meet her at Luke's as soon as she could get away.
That was how Rory found herself at a table at the diner, nursing a warm mug of her life's blood and absently flipping through the pages of a book when Dean Forester walked in.
Absently, because even as noticeable as he certainly was now, nothing would have gained her attention if she had really been focused on the reading she had been attempting to do-as Dean himself had noticed even before introducing himself, all those years ago.
She told herself that that bittersweet memory was the only thing that caused the pang in her chest when she glanced up and spotted him.
This time he saw her at about the same time, and after a momentary hesitation he bypassed the counter and slowly approached her. “Hey.”
Rory closed the book on a finger and blinked up at him. “Back so soon?”
“I've been back, actually...for takeout in the mornings, anyway.” He shrugged. “This is the first afternoon trial.”
“Ah, I see-branching out.”
“Sure.”
“You have much courage.”
Dean smirked a bit. “Maybe.” But she couldn't miss the melancholy even in that answer, and Rory was reminded of her resolution.
She was going to make things easier here for him if it was the last thing she did.
Besides that it was a welcome distraction.
With no other course of action apparent, Rory motioned to the empty chairs at her table. “Well hey; while you're being brave, why not eat here? I've got room.”
The smirk was gone in an instant, but he was quick to cover. “Uhm, I can't. I'm supposed to be picking up dinner for everyone at the house, actually...”
“Oh...well, you have to wait for it all get ready. You could wait here.”
“Rory, I-“ He cut off and let out a breath. “Sure,” he relented. She was still looking at him a moment later, and he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the counter. “I have to order before I can wait for it.”
“Right,” Rory started. God, she was too old to stare like a teenager. What was wrong with her? Then again, there was plenty to look at. He'd certainly found enough time work out in the past few years, around the busy college/work schedule...She stopped there. “Because it would be hard to wait for an order that didn't exist. I mean I guess you could, but it would never get there-seeing as it wouldn't exist and all.”
The smile came back, ever so slightly, and she was reasonably certain that she was much happier than she should have had reason to be to see it.
“You haven't changed much, have you?”
“Well, hopefully a little wiser along with the being a little older, but essentially all the same strangeness you remember is all here, yes.”
He nodded in what seemed to be understanding. “Part of being a Gilmore.”
“That's the idea.”
Dean tracked back to the counter to order, and while Luke didn't give him any more attention than any other customer, he didn't give him less, either. It was still clear that both were uncomfortable with the other, but Dean wasn't near to cowering any longer, and Luke was at least speaking even if it was no more than he would say to anyone else.
All good signs, Rory thought, that things could be better.
They just had to get there.
Dean made it back to the table and took the chair across from her. There was one at the corner to her, but still he took the one across. The implication wasn't lost on her, even ifhe hadn't done it purpose.
But it didn't bother her. It really didn't. It made perfect sense, really. As of now, if they were ever anything at all again it would have to be friends, and she knew that. Anything else was completely out of the question after everything that had happened. That much was abundantly clear.
Anything else with anyone was the farthest thing from her mind right now as it was.
“So how goes the job hunting? I didn't get a chance to ask about it last time I saw you...”
Rory dragged herself back to reality and answered the question. “Oh, it went well; I have a job now, actually. I moved into an apartment in Hartford last week.”
“You're working at the paper there?”
“The Hartford Courant, yeah. It's not so glorious just yet, but it's a good job-you know, pays the bills. I have bills now. Or I will, once the first ones come in.”
“That part's always fun.”
She smirked. “Oh, I can't wait.”
With that neither of them had any new comeback, and Dean found their way back to the subject. “Well that's great, Rory.”
“Yeah, it's a good place to start, anyway...”
She trailed off and Dean leaned forward some, more serious now. “You're disappointed.”
“No, no of course not,” she said automatically. “In today's economy I'm just happy to be employed, and it really is good to be so close to home.” She motioned to the diner around her. “I mean look; I'm close enough to come here on a whim if I want. Who could want more than that?”
Dean gave her that knowing look-the one that had never failed to make her uncomfortable. “You could; you always have.”
Rory had let her eyes slip away from his face, but she still heard the pain. Resisting the urge to grimace, she looked up again.
“That's not a bad thing,” he amended.
“Well...” She shrugged. “I really am glad to be close to Mom.”
“But you were hoping for something a little more prestigious?”
Maybe Dean had always been different, but he'd always known her. It seemed he still knew her, even now. Even after everything and all the time. And just like back in the town square back in March, the answer came out almost of its own accord, and she sighed. “Well four or five years ago I could see myself comfortably settled in at the New York Times by now.”
“You'll get there.”
How could he do that, too? How could he still have so much confidence in her? Even just as far as her professional life? How could he feel that way and offer such a compliment-any compliment-so freely?
Rory swallowed. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and straightened. “What about you? School? How did finals go?”
Dean shrugged. “Some about as well as I'd expected; one or two a little better, actually. It all evened out, I guess.”
“So you've got one more year?”
“Just one more semester, actually. I passed a couple of the classes I started right after high school before I...you know, dropped out, and I've crammed in an extra here and there when I could fit them in around work, so...”
“So you're graduating in the winter.”
“I guess I am,” he nodded.
“Wow, that's great too.” Then she remembered the part she hadn't wanted to, and couldn't stop the question that came out next. “So uhm, how's...the girlfriend?”
Something dark crossed his features, but he didn't quite make it to a wince. “Not my girlfriend,” he answered shortly.
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
Dean shrugged. “It's fine; it didn't quite make it there, really. It just...didn't work out.”'
And suddenly Rory felt relieved beyond reason and yet angry enough to rip heads off. She quickly figured out that the anger was directed at whoever this girl was, but she didn't know why the anger was so strong and she couldn't figure the other emotion out at all.
She was saved from having to think of something else to say when Luke set three takeout bags on the counter and called across the room.
“Hey, you with the hair-order's up.”
Dean managed to smirk at that without turning around. “Well it's a step up from gruff silence.”
“This much is true, though he could have left out the veiled insult.”
“Ah, let him have his creativity.” He stood and offered her a small smile. “I'll see you around, I guess.” Rory raised a hand in farewell, because she couldn't think of anything decent to say in return, and Dean took his order and left.
After sitting for a moment Rory made her way to the counter and leaned there for a moment.
“You don't have to say it,” Luke grumbled.
“What, the 'what happened to being nicer' part?”
“I'm working on it, but that guy just bugs me-always has-and you knew it from day one.”
She let out a breath. “Well I guess I appreciate the effort, whatever it may be.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Rory couldn't help but shake her head at him, Luke that he was. She couldn't be angry at him. He was trying, but he was Luke. There was more than enough evidence in the past that things took a while with him.
She went back to her table, and it was only a few minutes more before Lorelai blew in, stopping by the counter to collect a kiss from her husband before she dropped into the chair at the corner from her daughter.
“Bad day?” Rory asked.
Lorelai rolled her eyes. “Not bad, just...Michel.”
“Ah. Of course.”
Her mother crossed her arms on the table. “So. What's going on? Any particular reason for you to be in on a weekday?”
Rory sat back in her chair and picked up her coffee. “No, not really,” she lied.
Lorelai looked at her for a moment. She didn't quite seem to believe it, but she didn't press. “Okay...anything else?”
“You just missed Dean.”
“Again? God, we have got to get that guy on a schedule or something.”
Rory pulled herself away from the house that night with just enough time left to drop in on Lane before heading back to Hartford. It was her friend's husband who answered the door, immediately making a quiet signal as he motioned her inside.
“Lane's getting' the boys put to sleep. She'll be out a minute-if that's why you came. Actually she'll be out in a minute even if you didn't come to see her, but I don't know why else you'd be here.”
“Thanks, Zach,” Rory answered in amusement.
“Yeah. Well, you know, make yourself at home...”
Rory crossed to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen and perched on a stool. “Thanks.”
“It's all good. What's up, anyway? I thought you were in Hartford now.”
“Oh, I am. I'm just passing through and thought I could use a few minutes of friend time.”
Zach shrugged just as the bedroom door opened and Lane emerged. “Rory!” she stage whispered. She quickly crossed the room to hug her friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, can't I drop by?”
“Of you can.” Lane looked at her for a moment, seemed to gather something, and spoke to her husband without turning. “Zach, scat.”
“You got it, babe. Later, Rory.”
“Bye, Zach.” With that he retreated to the bedroom, leaving the friends alone.
Lane took the other stool and crossed her arms on the counter. “What's up? You look like you could use a good talk.”
Rory shrugged. “I don't know; it's could be nothing...”
“I guess you heard-“
“That Dean is back in town? Yes, I certainly did. We had forewarning about that one, remember? It's just for the summer anyway, I don't even live here anymore-“
“It's bothering you.”
Rory let out a breath. “I wouldn't say it's bothering me. I mean, he's been nice-“
Lane quickly interrupted. “You've already seen him?”
“Twice, actually,” she nodded. “Saturday morning and just this afternoon.”
“Wow...so nice, huh?”
“Yes. Nice. Nice, but...distant.” She shook her head. “That's the problem, really. I can't figure him out.” She let her head drop. “I can't figure Jess out, either.”
Lane's hand rested on her arm. “What's going on with Jess? I thought you two were friends now. Granted, I never liked that idea, but still...”
Rory told her what had happened the night before with Jess-what she hadn't been able to tell her mother, partly in fear that Lorelai would set off immediately to beat the stuffing out of said young man that she had never liked in the first place. When she finished Lane was staring at her.
“Wow, that's-“
“Crazy?”
“I was just gonna go with 'rather interesting' but okay; crazy works too. Are you okay?”
“I don't know,” she grumbled, wishing she had cause to use a different sentence. “I haven't heard from him, but it's only been a day. It'll probably be fine; I should probably just be patient, but it's...hard. I've loved being able to call him a friend, and I don't want to lose it.”
Lane nodded sympathetically. “I guess I can understand that. Just try not to worry about it. Your probably right; it'll work itself out.”
Rory let out a breath. “Yeah. Sorry. I just...needed to tell someone. I needed Luke's coffee, and I needed to see my mom, and I needed to talk to someone about it.”
“You didn't tell Lorelai?”
“I will once I know how this is going to go, but I didn't want her to have to worry about it.” She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I should go though. I have work in the morning.”
Lane slid off of her stool. “I kind of figured.” She smiled though. “But you know you're welcome any time. It was good to see you.”
“Yes, it's been so long since last week.”
Her friend chuckled and hugged her as she stood herself. “Come back soon.”
“Count on it. Thanks.”
The drive back to her apartment seemed much shorter than the drive to Stars Hollow had been just a few hours before. The worry still sat in the back of her mind, but much of the tension was gone. Seeing her mother or Lane thankfully often had that effect on her.
Jess would call soon. He had to.
Jess didn't call. He wouldn't even pick up his phone. Rory knew he was busy much of the time-in meetings, doing business, whatever else he really did. That was why he'd said to begin with that he wouldn't be able to stop by again until he was ready to head back to Philadelphia. But certainly her luck wasn't horrible enough to catch him in the middle of something every time?
Rory didn't know what to think.
She didn't want to think about it. She wished he would answer, or call. She wanted this to be over. It was harder to think with it hanging over her head. In the past she would have ignored it, or compartmentalized it, and she was doing that-to some extent. But it wasn't so easy now. Maybe it was the fact that she was getting older and realizing that she didn't really have that many close friends her own age, or maybe it was something else entirely, but it bothered her.
That was why Rory didn't go home when she left the office Friday-not to her apartment, or to Stars Hollow. Instead she retreated to the coffee shop she had found nearby. She needed to focus, and at her apartment or back in her hometown there would be too many excuses to find a different distraction than working on the piece she needed to finish.
The coffee shop was one of those newer, modern places, with polished surfaces and wi-fi internet, a few racks of magazines and b-rated paperbacks, and usually filled tables. It was quiet enough to work in, and yet had just enough noise that working was all one could focus on if that was what one was there to do. There was no room for extraneous thought. The coffee was decent, too, and there were doughnuts and cinnamon rolls and many other things with too much sugar.
In short, it was perfect.
Well, it was perfect up until she had finally finished the story and gathered her things-perfect until she emerged from the back wing of shop, rounded the corner in plans of heading straight for door, and instead smacked into someone going the opposite direction.
Yes, maybe she was tired and she had been in a hurry and she hadn't been watching and maybe she was a little too wrapped up in her own thoughts to worry very much about the rest of humanity right now, but did she really deserve to have a full cup of steaming coffee erupt all over the front of her clothes?
Rory shouted and jumped back, expletives streaming through her mind but a string of apologies issuing from her lips instead, out of habit.
“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” came the reply. “I wasn't watching.”
“I wasn't either.”
“Let me he-“
She was still staring down at her ruined outfit, and caught the abrupt stop but didn't take the time to wonder at it. She was holding her computer bag and purse away from her body with one hand and her shirt away from her chest with the other when she finally had the chance to look up. “Ow ow ow ow-whoa.”
“Rory?”
“What the hell are you doing here!” It was the first thing that came to mind, and Logan stared at her wide-eyed for a moment.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in return.
“I live here, thank you very much. I work at the paper. Last time I checked you were in California-not that I would have expected to hear about it if you'd moved.”
“I was born and raised here. I'm visiting my parents.”
“They finally forced you into it, huh?”
“I agreed on the condition that I didn't stay at the house, and then only after there was some kind of veiled threat involved.”
She snorted. “Meet Mitchum Huntzberger.”
Logan huffed and just looked at her for another moment, and she stared right back. Some around them had taken notice of the collision, but any fellow patrons who had kept watching after that were now all focused once more on their own coffee or newspapers or books. They were virtually alone, there by the trashcans of all places, and Rory was fully aware of the ridiculousness of her situation.
It was Logan. In a coffee shop she'd only been to a few times in her life. With her nearly soaked now in coffee. When they hadn't seen or spoken to each other since the day she'd graduated from Yale.
What was her world coming to?
Logan cleared his throat. “So...”
Several answers to the open-ended statement flashed through her mind, and Rory swallowed once as she chose the evasive. “So it's been...interesting, running into you, but apparently I should be going. I need to change.”
His mouth pressed into a line as he seemed to realize that she was going to go all-business with this.
Well, she had to. She didn't have a choice. It hurt just to see him standing there in front of her. She'd thought she was over it, and in many ways she was, but this hurt. It hurt already and she wanted it to be over. She wanted to pretend it had never happened. It was too surreal. It couldn't have happened.
The sooner she could get away the sooner she could tell herself that.
“Look...at least let me pay for the clothes...”
“I don't make a world of money, but I think I can suffer the loss of one outfit, thanks,” she answered tightly. She started to brush past him, but he stopped her. He caught her arm. He did it gently, and she could have escaped and kept going with no resistance at all, but she stopped anyway.
“Wait.”
“What, Logan? What do you want?” she asked, spinning back to him quickly.
“Please,” he said. “Just let me.”
“Let you what?”
“Pay for the clothes,” he repeated.
Rory sighed and stared at the wall. “If I let you pay for the clothes will you leave me alone?” She risked a glance at him, and caught the hurt in his eyes.
“Yes,” he relented.
“Fine.”
Logan nodded in thanks and dropped his empty cup into one of the the trash cans before reaching into his jacket pocket. He came up empty and tried his pockets, patting himself down until he finally stopped and muttered an expletive.
“What?”
“I only left the hotel for decent coffee; I didn't bring my checkbook.”
Good. Then she could get out of here. “It's fine. I should really go anyway-“
“Rory, wait. Please. Just let me get it.”
Why did it matter to him? He was the one who had left. If it hadn't happened that way maybe she would have thought the plea to be an excuse to be able to see her, just for a few more minutes.
But as it was, she assumed he wanted this to end just as quickly as she did.
So why wasn't he letting it end?
“Logan, come on; it doesn't matter...”
“Yes it does,” he said quickly, and then stopped, as if he hadn't meant for that to come out. He avoided her gaze. “The hotel is just at the corner.”
“And what am I supposed to do, wait here covered in coffee and looking like an idiot until you get back?”she retorted.
His mouth opened and closed once or twice before he answered. “Fine, then come with me.”
“That's a bad idea.”
“Well do you have a better one?”
“I could...wait in my car,” she supplied.
“Where is your car?”
“It's parked at the newspaper office.”
“Which is down the street in the opposite direction. You save more time if you follow me. You don't even have to come in the room; wait in the hall for all I care.”
For all I care. That hurt, too, but he was right. This would be over sooner if she followed him.
Rory looked at him, arms crossed, for what seemed like an eternity, until an employee with a mop came up behind her and requested that they move the conversation elsewhere so she could clean up the mess. They both apologized and ended up out on the sidewalk.
“Well?” Logan asked.
Rory sighed again-a long, heavy sigh as her shoulders drooped in surrender. She'd just finished a story and she was tired and stressed and she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her apartment and curl up in bed, maybe call her mother. “All right, I'll follow you. I'll wait in the hall and you can get your checkbook. Then I have to go.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fair enough.”
The hotel was nice, but that didn't surprise her, and Logan quickly ushered her past any prying eyes in the lobby and to the stairs instead of the elevators.
“I'm only on the second floor, and I figured you didn't want to be in a crowded elevator in those clothes...” he explained.
“Yeah,” she agreed quietly.
Rory had fully planned to wait in the hallway, but when he didn't come right back out she stepped inside, no farther than just past the doorway. He must have heard her, or noticed the movement, because he spoke up as he searched the nightstand. “It's not where I thought it was.”
She set her purse and computer bag down at her feet and stood uncomfortably by the wall in the entryway of the room, waiting. What was she doing here? And if she had to be here, why was she running away? Why wasn't she saying anything? She'd imagined this over and over, what she would say or scream or shout if she ever saw Logan again, and here he was and she was tongue-tied.
Not that it was anything new for her. She'd let Dean walk away more than once, and said nothing. She'd made no effort to contact Jess any of the many times he had disappeared. She had done the same when Logan left-nothing.
God, could she be any more pathetic?
“Why do you care?” she asked suddenly.
Logan paused in his search, but quickly went back to it as he spoke. “What?”
“Why do you care about smashing into me or paying for the clothes or me, at all? You're the one that left. You have no reason to care, and I highly doubt you'd be doing this if I'd been any other person in that coffee shop.”
His shoulders stiffened, but he kept looking, picking up one of his bags from a chair to sift through it. “You're right about that.”
“Well? Then why do you care?”
“It doesn't matter.”
She huffed, still looking for an answer. “It's not like you missed me,” she interjected.
That was when he stopped. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you left. You left.”
“You're the one that didn't want to marry me,” Logan answered, looking up now.
“I wasn't ready!”
“Rory, you were twenty-two and through with college. We'd been together for almost three years. The way I saw it, if you weren't ready then you were never going to be ready.”
She scowled. “What if I thought differently?”
“It doesn't matter anymore,” he said dismissively, but the hurt was still there.
Rory found herself responding not to the hurt, but in anger to his attempt to avoid the subject. “No, Logan. It does matter. You walked away before I had a chance to really explain myself.”
“Explain yourself? Are you joking? You've never been able to explain yourself. I would have been waiting for something that wasn't going to come. It was better to leave while I was still relatively intact,” Logan shot back.
“Oh, like you were really falling apart. If you loved me that much you wouldn't have left at all,” she answered heatedly.
This was it; the argument she'd wanted to be able to have and yet dreaded getting into for two years now. Three minutes ago she'd been determined not to get into any real conversation with him. She'd been bent on escape. What had happened to that?
Logan dropped the bag and crossed the room again, returning to the entryway as he returned her glare. “You weren't going to change your mind , Rory. It was because I loved you that much that I had to get out of there before I lost it, all right?”
Rory purposefully shoved the door closed behind her when she came back at that, aware that the volume was reaching a point where it might bother the other occupants of the floor. “No, it is not all right. If you felt that way, then why the hell didn't you call? Why didn't you do anything?”
“That's a two-way street, Rory. You didn't so much as e-mail, and I had already made a promise. I told you it was all or nothing.”
“And that was stupid to begin with!” she sputtered.
Logan's expression faltered, and she saw the pain in his eyes again. “Yes it was,” he said quietly.
Rory only stared, stupefied by the sudden break in temper. “Logan...?”
It wasn't like him. When he fought, he fought. When he wanted to make nice, he did it splendidly. He had never broken off a fight-not in the middle. The make-up came later. It always had.
The change in his eyes didn't really hit her until he turned away, making as if to go back to the bag he'd left on the floor, but this time she stopped him.
Logan turned, just as she had, quickly, and she didn't think he knew why he'd done it any more than she had known why she had. Then he stopped, just looking, and hurting, and Rory still hurt, too. But she didn't know what to say.
It was too much at once. Jess wouldn't call and she didn't know what to make of Dean and she'd run into Logan from nowhere and she was relatively certain she had minor burns on her chest, but now the coffee was cold and so was she and she was starting to shiver, but she wasn't so sure it was only because she was cold, and Logan was looking at her with those eyes, and it was too much at once. The last two years had seemed so simple, just the job, no men, nothing to worry about but deadlines and making sure she had her plane tickets for home on vacations.
Now those years suddenly seemed at once much too complicated and like a dream that had never happened at all...and for just a moment it all disappeared.
A moment was enough.
Logan was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and she wanted it. She wasn't sure who started it, but she didn't protest when she found herself helping him peel off her coffee-soaked clothing.
She didn't protest outwardly.
What small part of her mind was still rational shouted at her, but Rory ignored it.
This was wrong, wasn't it? But she ignored the insistence. She let those damned two years disappear again. But she could still hear one voice voice in the back of her mind.
You haven't changed much, have you?
Chapter 6
Under normal circumstances Rory wouldn't have gone back to Stars Hollow until the next weekend, but after the confusion with Jess the night before she felt the urge for Luke's coffee and her mother's company. Thus, with the semi-flexibility a newspaper job afforded, she left work earlier than usual and drove the twenty-some miles miles home. Lorelai was still at the inn, but promised to meet her at Luke's as soon as she could get away.
That was how Rory found herself at a table at the diner, nursing a warm mug of her life's blood and absently flipping through the pages of a book when Dean Forester walked in.
Absently, because even as noticeable as he certainly was now, nothing would have gained her attention if she had really been focused on the reading she had been attempting to do-as Dean himself had noticed even before introducing himself, all those years ago.
She told herself that that bittersweet memory was the only thing that caused the pang in her chest when she glanced up and spotted him.
This time he saw her at about the same time, and after a momentary hesitation he bypassed the counter and slowly approached her. “Hey.”
Rory closed the book on a finger and blinked up at him. “Back so soon?”
“I've been back, actually...for takeout in the mornings, anyway.” He shrugged. “This is the first afternoon trial.”
“Ah, I see-branching out.”
“Sure.”
“You have much courage.”
Dean smirked a bit. “Maybe.” But she couldn't miss the melancholy even in that answer, and Rory was reminded of her resolution.
She was going to make things easier here for him if it was the last thing she did.
Besides that it was a welcome distraction.
With no other course of action apparent, Rory motioned to the empty chairs at her table. “Well hey; while you're being brave, why not eat here? I've got room.”
The smirk was gone in an instant, but he was quick to cover. “Uhm, I can't. I'm supposed to be picking up dinner for everyone at the house, actually...”
“Oh...well, you have to wait for it all get ready. You could wait here.”
“Rory, I-“ He cut off and let out a breath. “Sure,” he relented. She was still looking at him a moment later, and he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the counter. “I have to order before I can wait for it.”
“Right,” Rory started. God, she was too old to stare like a teenager. What was wrong with her? Then again, there was plenty to look at. He'd certainly found enough time work out in the past few years, around the busy college/work schedule...She stopped there. “Because it would be hard to wait for an order that didn't exist. I mean I guess you could, but it would never get there-seeing as it wouldn't exist and all.”
The smile came back, ever so slightly, and she was reasonably certain that she was much happier than she should have had reason to be to see it.
“You haven't changed much, have you?”
“Well, hopefully a little wiser along with the being a little older, but essentially all the same strangeness you remember is all here, yes.”
He nodded in what seemed to be understanding. “Part of being a Gilmore.”
“That's the idea.”
Dean tracked back to the counter to order, and while Luke didn't give him any more attention than any other customer, he didn't give him less, either. It was still clear that both were uncomfortable with the other, but Dean wasn't near to cowering any longer, and Luke was at least speaking even if it was no more than he would say to anyone else.
All good signs, Rory thought, that things could be better.
They just had to get there.
Dean made it back to the table and took the chair across from her. There was one at the corner to her, but still he took the one across. The implication wasn't lost on her, even ifhe hadn't done it purpose.
But it didn't bother her. It really didn't. It made perfect sense, really. As of now, if they were ever anything at all again it would have to be friends, and she knew that. Anything else was completely out of the question after everything that had happened. That much was abundantly clear.
Anything else with anyone was the farthest thing from her mind right now as it was.
“So how goes the job hunting? I didn't get a chance to ask about it last time I saw you...”
Rory dragged herself back to reality and answered the question. “Oh, it went well; I have a job now, actually. I moved into an apartment in Hartford last week.”
“You're working at the paper there?”
“The Hartford Courant, yeah. It's not so glorious just yet, but it's a good job-you know, pays the bills. I have bills now. Or I will, once the first ones come in.”
“That part's always fun.”
She smirked. “Oh, I can't wait.”
With that neither of them had any new comeback, and Dean found their way back to the subject. “Well that's great, Rory.”
“Yeah, it's a good place to start, anyway...”
She trailed off and Dean leaned forward some, more serious now. “You're disappointed.”
“No, no of course not,” she said automatically. “In today's economy I'm just happy to be employed, and it really is good to be so close to home.” She motioned to the diner around her. “I mean look; I'm close enough to come here on a whim if I want. Who could want more than that?”
Dean gave her that knowing look-the one that had never failed to make her uncomfortable. “You could; you always have.”
Rory had let her eyes slip away from his face, but she still heard the pain. Resisting the urge to grimace, she looked up again.
“That's not a bad thing,” he amended.
“Well...” She shrugged. “I really am glad to be close to Mom.”
“But you were hoping for something a little more prestigious?”
Maybe Dean had always been different, but he'd always known her. It seemed he still knew her, even now. Even after everything and all the time. And just like back in the town square back in March, the answer came out almost of its own accord, and she sighed. “Well four or five years ago I could see myself comfortably settled in at the New York Times by now.”
“You'll get there.”
How could he do that, too? How could he still have so much confidence in her? Even just as far as her professional life? How could he feel that way and offer such a compliment-any compliment-so freely?
Rory swallowed. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and straightened. “What about you? School? How did finals go?”
Dean shrugged. “Some about as well as I'd expected; one or two a little better, actually. It all evened out, I guess.”
“So you've got one more year?”
“Just one more semester, actually. I passed a couple of the classes I started right after high school before I...you know, dropped out, and I've crammed in an extra here and there when I could fit them in around work, so...”
“So you're graduating in the winter.”
“I guess I am,” he nodded.
“Wow, that's great too.” Then she remembered the part she hadn't wanted to, and couldn't stop the question that came out next. “So uhm, how's...the girlfriend?”
Something dark crossed his features, but he didn't quite make it to a wince. “Not my girlfriend,” he answered shortly.
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
Dean shrugged. “It's fine; it didn't quite make it there, really. It just...didn't work out.”'
And suddenly Rory felt relieved beyond reason and yet angry enough to rip heads off. She quickly figured out that the anger was directed at whoever this girl was, but she didn't know why the anger was so strong and she couldn't figure the other emotion out at all.
She was saved from having to think of something else to say when Luke set three takeout bags on the counter and called across the room.
“Hey, you with the hair-order's up.”
Dean managed to smirk at that without turning around. “Well it's a step up from gruff silence.”
“This much is true, though he could have left out the veiled insult.”
“Ah, let him have his creativity.” He stood and offered her a small smile. “I'll see you around, I guess.” Rory raised a hand in farewell, because she couldn't think of anything decent to say in return, and Dean took his order and left.
After sitting for a moment Rory made her way to the counter and leaned there for a moment.
“You don't have to say it,” Luke grumbled.
“What, the 'what happened to being nicer' part?”
“I'm working on it, but that guy just bugs me-always has-and you knew it from day one.”
She let out a breath. “Well I guess I appreciate the effort, whatever it may be.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Rory couldn't help but shake her head at him, Luke that he was. She couldn't be angry at him. He was trying, but he was Luke. There was more than enough evidence in the past that things took a while with him.
She went back to her table, and it was only a few minutes more before Lorelai blew in, stopping by the counter to collect a kiss from her husband before she dropped into the chair at the corner from her daughter.
“Bad day?” Rory asked.
Lorelai rolled her eyes. “Not bad, just...Michel.”
“Ah. Of course.”
Her mother crossed her arms on the table. “So. What's going on? Any particular reason for you to be in on a weekday?”
Rory sat back in her chair and picked up her coffee. “No, not really,” she lied.
Lorelai looked at her for a moment. She didn't quite seem to believe it, but she didn't press. “Okay...anything else?”
“You just missed Dean.”
“Again? God, we have got to get that guy on a schedule or something.”
Rory pulled herself away from the house that night with just enough time left to drop in on Lane before heading back to Hartford. It was her friend's husband who answered the door, immediately making a quiet signal as he motioned her inside.
“Lane's getting' the boys put to sleep. She'll be out a minute-if that's why you came. Actually she'll be out in a minute even if you didn't come to see her, but I don't know why else you'd be here.”
“Thanks, Zach,” Rory answered in amusement.
“Yeah. Well, you know, make yourself at home...”
Rory crossed to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen and perched on a stool. “Thanks.”
“It's all good. What's up, anyway? I thought you were in Hartford now.”
“Oh, I am. I'm just passing through and thought I could use a few minutes of friend time.”
Zach shrugged just as the bedroom door opened and Lane emerged. “Rory!” she stage whispered. She quickly crossed the room to hug her friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, can't I drop by?”
“Of you can.” Lane looked at her for a moment, seemed to gather something, and spoke to her husband without turning. “Zach, scat.”
“You got it, babe. Later, Rory.”
“Bye, Zach.” With that he retreated to the bedroom, leaving the friends alone.
Lane took the other stool and crossed her arms on the counter. “What's up? You look like you could use a good talk.”
Rory shrugged. “I don't know; it's could be nothing...”
“I guess you heard-“
“That Dean is back in town? Yes, I certainly did. We had forewarning about that one, remember? It's just for the summer anyway, I don't even live here anymore-“
“It's bothering you.”
Rory let out a breath. “I wouldn't say it's bothering me. I mean, he's been nice-“
Lane quickly interrupted. “You've already seen him?”
“Twice, actually,” she nodded. “Saturday morning and just this afternoon.”
“Wow...so nice, huh?”
“Yes. Nice. Nice, but...distant.” She shook her head. “That's the problem, really. I can't figure him out.” She let her head drop. “I can't figure Jess out, either.”
Lane's hand rested on her arm. “What's going on with Jess? I thought you two were friends now. Granted, I never liked that idea, but still...”
Rory told her what had happened the night before with Jess-what she hadn't been able to tell her mother, partly in fear that Lorelai would set off immediately to beat the stuffing out of said young man that she had never liked in the first place. When she finished Lane was staring at her.
“Wow, that's-“
“Crazy?”
“I was just gonna go with 'rather interesting' but okay; crazy works too. Are you okay?”
“I don't know,” she grumbled, wishing she had cause to use a different sentence. “I haven't heard from him, but it's only been a day. It'll probably be fine; I should probably just be patient, but it's...hard. I've loved being able to call him a friend, and I don't want to lose it.”
Lane nodded sympathetically. “I guess I can understand that. Just try not to worry about it. Your probably right; it'll work itself out.”
Rory let out a breath. “Yeah. Sorry. I just...needed to tell someone. I needed Luke's coffee, and I needed to see my mom, and I needed to talk to someone about it.”
“You didn't tell Lorelai?”
“I will once I know how this is going to go, but I didn't want her to have to worry about it.” She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I should go though. I have work in the morning.”
Lane slid off of her stool. “I kind of figured.” She smiled though. “But you know you're welcome any time. It was good to see you.”
“Yes, it's been so long since last week.”
Her friend chuckled and hugged her as she stood herself. “Come back soon.”
“Count on it. Thanks.”
The drive back to her apartment seemed much shorter than the drive to Stars Hollow had been just a few hours before. The worry still sat in the back of her mind, but much of the tension was gone. Seeing her mother or Lane thankfully often had that effect on her.
Jess would call soon. He had to.
Jess didn't call. He wouldn't even pick up his phone. Rory knew he was busy much of the time-in meetings, doing business, whatever else he really did. That was why he'd said to begin with that he wouldn't be able to stop by again until he was ready to head back to Philadelphia. But certainly her luck wasn't horrible enough to catch him in the middle of something every time?
Rory didn't know what to think.
She didn't want to think about it. She wished he would answer, or call. She wanted this to be over. It was harder to think with it hanging over her head. In the past she would have ignored it, or compartmentalized it, and she was doing that-to some extent. But it wasn't so easy now. Maybe it was the fact that she was getting older and realizing that she didn't really have that many close friends her own age, or maybe it was something else entirely, but it bothered her.
That was why Rory didn't go home when she left the office Friday-not to her apartment, or to Stars Hollow. Instead she retreated to the coffee shop she had found nearby. She needed to focus, and at her apartment or back in her hometown there would be too many excuses to find a different distraction than working on the piece she needed to finish.
The coffee shop was one of those newer, modern places, with polished surfaces and wi-fi internet, a few racks of magazines and b-rated paperbacks, and usually filled tables. It was quiet enough to work in, and yet had just enough noise that working was all one could focus on if that was what one was there to do. There was no room for extraneous thought. The coffee was decent, too, and there were doughnuts and cinnamon rolls and many other things with too much sugar.
In short, it was perfect.
Well, it was perfect up until she had finally finished the story and gathered her things-perfect until she emerged from the back wing of shop, rounded the corner in plans of heading straight for door, and instead smacked into someone going the opposite direction.
Yes, maybe she was tired and she had been in a hurry and she hadn't been watching and maybe she was a little too wrapped up in her own thoughts to worry very much about the rest of humanity right now, but did she really deserve to have a full cup of steaming coffee erupt all over the front of her clothes?
Rory shouted and jumped back, expletives streaming through her mind but a string of apologies issuing from her lips instead, out of habit.
“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” came the reply. “I wasn't watching.”
“I wasn't either.”
“Let me he-“
She was still staring down at her ruined outfit, and caught the abrupt stop but didn't take the time to wonder at it. She was holding her computer bag and purse away from her body with one hand and her shirt away from her chest with the other when she finally had the chance to look up. “Ow ow ow ow-whoa.”
“Rory?”
“What the hell are you doing here!” It was the first thing that came to mind, and Logan stared at her wide-eyed for a moment.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in return.
“I live here, thank you very much. I work at the paper. Last time I checked you were in California-not that I would have expected to hear about it if you'd moved.”
“I was born and raised here. I'm visiting my parents.”
“They finally forced you into it, huh?”
“I agreed on the condition that I didn't stay at the house, and then only after there was some kind of veiled threat involved.”
She snorted. “Meet Mitchum Huntzberger.”
Logan huffed and just looked at her for another moment, and she stared right back. Some around them had taken notice of the collision, but any fellow patrons who had kept watching after that were now all focused once more on their own coffee or newspapers or books. They were virtually alone, there by the trashcans of all places, and Rory was fully aware of the ridiculousness of her situation.
It was Logan. In a coffee shop she'd only been to a few times in her life. With her nearly soaked now in coffee. When they hadn't seen or spoken to each other since the day she'd graduated from Yale.
What was her world coming to?
Logan cleared his throat. “So...”
Several answers to the open-ended statement flashed through her mind, and Rory swallowed once as she chose the evasive. “So it's been...interesting, running into you, but apparently I should be going. I need to change.”
His mouth pressed into a line as he seemed to realize that she was going to go all-business with this.
Well, she had to. She didn't have a choice. It hurt just to see him standing there in front of her. She'd thought she was over it, and in many ways she was, but this hurt. It hurt already and she wanted it to be over. She wanted to pretend it had never happened. It was too surreal. It couldn't have happened.
The sooner she could get away the sooner she could tell herself that.
“Look...at least let me pay for the clothes...”
“I don't make a world of money, but I think I can suffer the loss of one outfit, thanks,” she answered tightly. She started to brush past him, but he stopped her. He caught her arm. He did it gently, and she could have escaped and kept going with no resistance at all, but she stopped anyway.
“Wait.”
“What, Logan? What do you want?” she asked, spinning back to him quickly.
“Please,” he said. “Just let me.”
“Let you what?”
“Pay for the clothes,” he repeated.
Rory sighed and stared at the wall. “If I let you pay for the clothes will you leave me alone?” She risked a glance at him, and caught the hurt in his eyes.
“Yes,” he relented.
“Fine.”
Logan nodded in thanks and dropped his empty cup into one of the the trash cans before reaching into his jacket pocket. He came up empty and tried his pockets, patting himself down until he finally stopped and muttered an expletive.
“What?”
“I only left the hotel for decent coffee; I didn't bring my checkbook.”
Good. Then she could get out of here. “It's fine. I should really go anyway-“
“Rory, wait. Please. Just let me get it.”
Why did it matter to him? He was the one who had left. If it hadn't happened that way maybe she would have thought the plea to be an excuse to be able to see her, just for a few more minutes.
But as it was, she assumed he wanted this to end just as quickly as she did.
So why wasn't he letting it end?
“Logan, come on; it doesn't matter...”
“Yes it does,” he said quickly, and then stopped, as if he hadn't meant for that to come out. He avoided her gaze. “The hotel is just at the corner.”
“And what am I supposed to do, wait here covered in coffee and looking like an idiot until you get back?”she retorted.
His mouth opened and closed once or twice before he answered. “Fine, then come with me.”
“That's a bad idea.”
“Well do you have a better one?”
“I could...wait in my car,” she supplied.
“Where is your car?”
“It's parked at the newspaper office.”
“Which is down the street in the opposite direction. You save more time if you follow me. You don't even have to come in the room; wait in the hall for all I care.”
For all I care. That hurt, too, but he was right. This would be over sooner if she followed him.
Rory looked at him, arms crossed, for what seemed like an eternity, until an employee with a mop came up behind her and requested that they move the conversation elsewhere so she could clean up the mess. They both apologized and ended up out on the sidewalk.
“Well?” Logan asked.
Rory sighed again-a long, heavy sigh as her shoulders drooped in surrender. She'd just finished a story and she was tired and stressed and she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her apartment and curl up in bed, maybe call her mother. “All right, I'll follow you. I'll wait in the hall and you can get your checkbook. Then I have to go.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fair enough.”
The hotel was nice, but that didn't surprise her, and Logan quickly ushered her past any prying eyes in the lobby and to the stairs instead of the elevators.
“I'm only on the second floor, and I figured you didn't want to be in a crowded elevator in those clothes...” he explained.
“Yeah,” she agreed quietly.
Rory had fully planned to wait in the hallway, but when he didn't come right back out she stepped inside, no farther than just past the doorway. He must have heard her, or noticed the movement, because he spoke up as he searched the nightstand. “It's not where I thought it was.”
She set her purse and computer bag down at her feet and stood uncomfortably by the wall in the entryway of the room, waiting. What was she doing here? And if she had to be here, why was she running away? Why wasn't she saying anything? She'd imagined this over and over, what she would say or scream or shout if she ever saw Logan again, and here he was and she was tongue-tied.
Not that it was anything new for her. She'd let Dean walk away more than once, and said nothing. She'd made no effort to contact Jess any of the many times he had disappeared. She had done the same when Logan left-nothing.
God, could she be any more pathetic?
“Why do you care?” she asked suddenly.
Logan paused in his search, but quickly went back to it as he spoke. “What?”
“Why do you care about smashing into me or paying for the clothes or me, at all? You're the one that left. You have no reason to care, and I highly doubt you'd be doing this if I'd been any other person in that coffee shop.”
His shoulders stiffened, but he kept looking, picking up one of his bags from a chair to sift through it. “You're right about that.”
“Well? Then why do you care?”
“It doesn't matter.”
She huffed, still looking for an answer. “It's not like you missed me,” she interjected.
That was when he stopped. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you left. You left.”
“You're the one that didn't want to marry me,” Logan answered, looking up now.
“I wasn't ready!”
“Rory, you were twenty-two and through with college. We'd been together for almost three years. The way I saw it, if you weren't ready then you were never going to be ready.”
She scowled. “What if I thought differently?”
“It doesn't matter anymore,” he said dismissively, but the hurt was still there.
Rory found herself responding not to the hurt, but in anger to his attempt to avoid the subject. “No, Logan. It does matter. You walked away before I had a chance to really explain myself.”
“Explain yourself? Are you joking? You've never been able to explain yourself. I would have been waiting for something that wasn't going to come. It was better to leave while I was still relatively intact,” Logan shot back.
“Oh, like you were really falling apart. If you loved me that much you wouldn't have left at all,” she answered heatedly.
This was it; the argument she'd wanted to be able to have and yet dreaded getting into for two years now. Three minutes ago she'd been determined not to get into any real conversation with him. She'd been bent on escape. What had happened to that?
Logan dropped the bag and crossed the room again, returning to the entryway as he returned her glare. “You weren't going to change your mind , Rory. It was because I loved you that much that I had to get out of there before I lost it, all right?”
Rory purposefully shoved the door closed behind her when she came back at that, aware that the volume was reaching a point where it might bother the other occupants of the floor. “No, it is not all right. If you felt that way, then why the hell didn't you call? Why didn't you do anything?”
“That's a two-way street, Rory. You didn't so much as e-mail, and I had already made a promise. I told you it was all or nothing.”
“And that was stupid to begin with!” she sputtered.
Logan's expression faltered, and she saw the pain in his eyes again. “Yes it was,” he said quietly.
Rory only stared, stupefied by the sudden break in temper. “Logan...?”
It wasn't like him. When he fought, he fought. When he wanted to make nice, he did it splendidly. He had never broken off a fight-not in the middle. The make-up came later. It always had.
The change in his eyes didn't really hit her until he turned away, making as if to go back to the bag he'd left on the floor, but this time she stopped him.
Logan turned, just as she had, quickly, and she didn't think he knew why he'd done it any more than she had known why she had. Then he stopped, just looking, and hurting, and Rory still hurt, too. But she didn't know what to say.
It was too much at once. Jess wouldn't call and she didn't know what to make of Dean and she'd run into Logan from nowhere and she was relatively certain she had minor burns on her chest, but now the coffee was cold and so was she and she was starting to shiver, but she wasn't so sure it was only because she was cold, and Logan was looking at her with those eyes, and it was too much at once. The last two years had seemed so simple, just the job, no men, nothing to worry about but deadlines and making sure she had her plane tickets for home on vacations.
Now those years suddenly seemed at once much too complicated and like a dream that had never happened at all...and for just a moment it all disappeared.
A moment was enough.
Logan was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and she wanted it. She wasn't sure who started it, but she didn't protest when she found herself helping him peel off her coffee-soaked clothing.
She didn't protest outwardly.
What small part of her mind was still rational shouted at her, but Rory ignored it.
This was wrong, wasn't it? But she ignored the insistence. She let those damned two years disappear again. But she could still hear one voice voice in the back of her mind.
You haven't changed much, have you?