Lorelai came home that afternoon to towers of boxes in the foyer, the hallway, and in the kitchen. "Rory?" she called out.
"In here," her daughter's voice came from somewhere within the house.
"Where?"
"My room."
"And where is that again?"
"Exactly where it used to be."
Lorelei skirted around the maze, almost making it to the kitchen. "Marco."
"Polo."
"Marco—oh no." Lorelai stopped short. If she thought the boxes were bad outside, they were ten times worse inside Rory's room. Or what used to be Rory's room. "What happened?" she asked, barely able to see her daughter sitting on the bed, looking as claustrophobic as she felt.
"Grandpa's books were delivered," she said with a helpless look.
"Along with the entire Bodleian Library?"
Rory stood up and shuffled sideways between towers to make it out of her room. Once she was free, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. "Don't worry. I'll take them to a storage facility. And the desk too."
Lorelai began to set her purse down then thought better of it. She might never find it again in this labyrinth. "So what did you get up to today?"
"I went to see Jess."
"Oh." She paused. "How did that go?"
"I don't know." Rory sat down at the kitchen table and recounted what had happened at the diner that morning.
"So he was packed and ready to go but decided to stay," Lorelai said when Rory was done. "Well, color me surprised."
"But he didn't say anything else to me. He just grabbed his bag and went upstairs."
"Did you follow him?"
"No. He seemed angry, like I'd done something to him."
Lorelai sighed, taking a seat. "That's my fault. I told him about Logan."
Rory's eyes grew wide. "What?"
"I don't know. I was rattled by the desk and then you said you were there with Logan," Lorelai said. She was gesticulating wildly but couldn't stop herself. "I kind of had a Mean Girls moment with the verbal diarrhea and the Burn Book—"
"There's a Burn Book too?" Rory cried.
"Sorry, got a little carried away with the references. There's no book. Only a really hurt guy and a cool mom—not one of those regular moms—who apparently doesn't know when to shut up..." She trailed off with a sigh. She felt like a chastised child the way Rory looked at her.
"You sure that's all it was?" Rory asked.
"Meaning?"
"That maybe you wanted to tell him." Rory played with the label on the bottle. "Maybe... maybe because you thought he had a right to know."
"Do you think he does?"
Her daughter got up from the table. "So, should we order Chinese food?"
Lorelai said nothing, only waiting while her daughter's train of thought arrived at the same station.
"I should have told him before I left," Rory finally said, playing with the sleeves of her sweater. "I think I was afraid he would just leave again. Like he always does."
"He does have a long history of pulling a David Copperfield. He should be a magician, that Jess." But unlike the times before, this time, Jess had remained. Lorelai had to believe that meant something.
Rory looked at her mother, not saying a thing.
"And Logan? How does he feel about all of this?" Lorelai asked. "I'm assuming he had strong opinions."
"He did. He said he'd leave Odette and raise the baby with me."
Lorelai's mouth dropped open. "And you said..."
"I said no," Rory said. "Logan would have given me a good, stable life. He would have been a good husband."
"Buuuuut...?"
Rory looked up, her blue eyes full of doubt.
Lorelai gave a nod. "Jess."
"No. I just... I don't like the person I am when I'm with Logan. I was sleeping with him even though he was engaged. I compared our affair to a vacation in Las Vegas, for crying out loud. I mean, what the hell is that?" Rory stopped, sighed. "But it's not his fault. I'm the only one responsible for my actions."
"Buuuuut...?" Lorelai said again.
"But I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to fix my life. I want to do what's right for me." Her hand went to her stomach. "For us."
"So not Jess?"
"Maybe Jess," she said. "Someday. When I've figured out how to fix my life."
That night, Luke slipped the shirt over his head and padded off to bed, slipping under the thick blanket and reaching for the remote control. With a tired groan, he leaned against the headboard and began to watch some TV show while waiting for Lorelai to finish with her overlong bedtime routine.
Even after all these years he still had no idea why it took her so long to get ready in the morning—with the makeup and the hair curling and the coordinating of the outfit—only to waste the same amount of time to take it all off at night. It would make life easier to cut out the middleman and forgo all the unnecessary steps. But every time he mentioned it to Lorelai, she'd just shaken her head and told him it was for his benefit.
Which explained why he was always first in bed each night, watching shows he couldn't care less about and waiting to turn off the lights.
"Can you believe this?" he called out to Lorelai while she brushed her teeth. "These two guys are trying to convince this old codger to sell them an old sign for two hundred dollars."
"Well, what does the sign say?" Lorelai asked from within the bathroom.
"Who cares? It's a sign. It's a rusty sheet of metal with peeling paint on it. It's junk."
"Funny, that's exactly how I feel some days."
His eyes strayed from the TV when Lorelai emerged from the bathroom in the blue satin negligee that he had always liked. With a tight feeling in his chest, he watched her walk over to the bed and pull back the covers. Even after all their years together, the sight of her still took his breath away at the most unexpected times.
"I'd definitely pay upwards of two hundred dollars for you," he said.
She slid into bed beside him. "Why Mr. Danes, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"You know what I mean. I'm not good at the sweet talk," he said, gathering her into the crook of his arms. He kissed the side of her head and let out a happy sigh.
"So how's Rory?" he asked after some time. "She seemed a little dazed this morning."
"Still jetlagged and dealing with the city of boxes downstairs."
"I figured with the baby and all—"
Lorelai sat up and stared at him. "Baby?"
He gave her a weary look. "I know about the baby."
"How?"
"I've heard her throwing up. Also, her eating habits have changed drastically. She doesn't drink coffee anymore," he said. "Oh, and the other day she ordered a veggie sandwich. I didn't even know we offered that."
"Yeah, it's on the secret menu."
"What secret menu?"
"Right. What secret menu?" Lorelai said with an exaggerated wink.
"Who's the father?" he asked, refusing to be derailed by his wife's antics.
Lorelai said nothing, a highly irregular and uncommon phenomenon that instantly made him suspicious.
"It's Jess, isn't it?" he asked, sitting up. "How could this happen? I thought he'd grown up and become responsible. Though, to be honest, that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I always thought those two would work it out in the end. They could get married and live at the apartment above the diner for the time being, until they find a suitable house..."
"Cool your heels there, Patti Stanger,' Lorelai said. "No, Jess is not the father."
"Okay, Maury," he shot back. "Who is the father?"
"Logan."
He fell back onto the headboard. "Oh." He stared off into space. "Does Jess know?"
"No."
He thought of his nephew, who had never been very good at hiding his feelings for Rory. With the telling way he looked at her every time she entered the room, Jess definitely wouldn't be winning any Oscars anytime soon. Luke's thoughts moved to Rory, the girl he'd always considered his daughter in some form or another. He'd been there for her since the beginning, watching her grow from a sweet little girl with stars in her eyes to an intelligent young woman who had the world at her feet. He always imagined she'd grow up and go off to some foreign country, doing foreign correspondent stuff. Or perhaps working as the editor of the New York Times. She wasn't supposed to be back here in Stars Hollow, jobless and pregnant.
"Rory can stay with us as long as she needs. We can build an addition to the house. Create a separate room for the baby," he said, the wheels in his brain spinning. "We can take turns watching the baby while Rory goes to work. I could probably take her to the diner, hold her in one of those baby carrier contraptions while I work. Or you can take her to the Dragonfly and have Michel watch her. On second thought, she can come with me."
Lorelai gazed at him with warm eyes, biting back a smile. "She?"
"Yeah. I guess I just figured it would be another Gilmore Girl."
She lifted his arm and snuggled against his body, holding her palm against his heart. "I love you, Mr. Danes," she said, looking up at him.
He bent his head and touched his lips to hers. He gathered her closer and deepened the kiss, not needing sappy words or corny poetry to tell his wife exactly how he feels.