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“Mom, I’m pregnant.”
There’s a stillness to the air when Rory says what she’s been dying to tell someone for so many weeks. It feels good to finally say it, but at the same time, it makes it so much more real because all of a sudden there’s another person that knows she’s got a baby growing inside of her. The lights around the town square twinkle in the early morning light but Lorelai doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares at her daughter, opening and closing her mouth for a few times, twisting her wedding ring around her finger before she finally manages to get out “Okay.”
“That’s it?” Rory asks. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” Her mom smiles. “I’m not going to scream and fight with you about it, kid. Not now. Not ever. There’s no point.”
“Aren’t you even going to ask who’s it is?”
The smile on her mom’s face turns slightly sad, tears welling at the corner of her eyes. “I don’t need to,” she whispers, pulling her daughter into a somewhat awkward hug as they sit on the steps of the town gazebo. “I already know.”
The wedding later in the day is almost as good as the one held in the middle of the night, and Rory can’t help but cry when she sees her mom and Luke exchanging vows for the second time. Her grandma notices, opens her purse and hands over a delicate embroidered handkerchief. They exchange a smile and Rory dabs at her eyes with the piece of cloth, hoping that Emily won’t mind the pristine white fabric is now smattered with smears of mascara.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” her grandmother whispers as Lorelai and Luke exchange rings. Rory glances at her, and sees the tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Me neither,” she says as she hands back the handkerchief. “I’m happy it’s finally here, though.”
“As am I.” Emily tucks the handkerchief back in her bag. They turn their attention back to the ceremony just as the priest announces that Luke can now kiss the bride, and the whole town bursts into applause.
They’ve all waited so long for this day to come.
Lorelai and Luke go away for their honeymoon, so Rory has the house to herself for two weeks. She sits in various places around the house typing furiously on her laptop, desperate to get the story finished before another one begins.
She thinks about calling Logan, then remembers that he’s getting married and that the news would not help when he’s trying to pick out what suit he’s going to wear or wondering what crazy bachelor party Colin, Finn and Robert have planned for him. She will tell him eventually. She’ll have to, but not right now.
She’s got a book to write.
Lane’s the next to find out. She comes over on the Friday night before Lorelai and Luke get back from their honeymoon with a bottle of wine, takeaway pizzas and a list of movies she wants to watch on Netflix. They sit down on the couch; Rory accepts a glass of wine and takes a sip before suddenly remembering that she’s not supposed to do that for the next nine months.
“What’s wrong?” Lane asks, pausing scrolling through the Netflix catalogue as Rory slams the glass down on the coffee table. “I know it’s probably not the best wine you’ve ever had in your life, but –”
“No, that’s not it.” Rory sighs and takes a slice pizza from one of the open boxes. “I can’t drink at the moment, that’s all.”
Lane looks confused for a moment, then her eyes widen. “No,” she says, putting the remote down. “You can’t be.”
Rory nods, looking down at her stomach as though it’s betrayed her in some way. “Oh yes, I can.”
“But – but – what – when – who - ?”
“Logan,” she admits. “When I was last in London.”
“And are you… are you keeping it?”
“Yeah,” Rory says with a shaky voice. “I think I am.”
By the time Luke’s truck pulls up in the driveway late on Sunday evening, Rory’s on chapter twelve of her book. She’s recounting some drama that happened when she was back in middle school when her mom opens the front door and runs into the kitchen to give her a hug.
“Hey,” she says after the hug is over and Luke’s dragging their suitcases into the house. “How are you?”
“Good.”
“The book?”
“Coming along well.”
“The baby?”
“Growing, I presume.”
“That’s great,” her mom says, smiling. “Really great.”
Slowly, she tells more people. Luke. Emily. Paris. April. Jess, although he goes quiet as soon as she tells him and makes his excuses soon afterwards. The whole town, but that’s more by accident than anything else – she lets it slip when talking to Miss Patty one morning and before she knows where she is everyone is congratulating her as soon as she steps out the house.
Logan, though, is by far the worst.
She flies to London one day in late January when winter still has a tight hold over the city and meets him in a restaurant – not one his family owns, because she feels like that would be a bit too weird, but a place she found quite by accident when she first came to the capital. It’s a small place, popular with university students and the hipsters that sit around the bar comparing notes on the brewed on site beers, but she fell in love with it the first time she walked in all those years ago, and makes it a tradition to visit at least once when she’s in the city.
“What’s this about, Ace?” Logan asks as she sips nervously at her sparkling water. “Why are you here?”
“I – um.” Her eyes drift down to his left hand, with the gold band around his ring finger, and she almost chickens out. “I got some news a few months back.”
“O-kay,” Logan says, looking somewhat bemused. “And you had to fly all the way to London to tell me it?”
“Yes.” She takes a deep breath. “Please don’t get mad.”
Logan’s expression shifts considerably and he now looks borderline horrified. “Oh, no. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say, Ace.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Shit,” Logan swears. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s my fault,” he says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I… fucking hell, Rory. What am I supposed to do?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Rory replies. “I don’t want to break up your marriage. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got a baby on the way. Whether or not you play a role in their life is your decision.”
Logan looks kind of stunned. “I think I need some time to process all this.”
“Sure.” Rory forces a smile onto her face and gets up to leave. “I’ll be in Stars Hollow if you need me.”
Back in Stars Hollow, the seasons continue to change. The blossoms come out on the trees, and then leaves, and it’s getting warmer every day. Rory continues writing her book and by the time she’s nearing the end of her pregnancy having battled morning sickness and many question cravings, the first draft is finished. She prints it off and sends it to Jess with a post-it saying ‘I couldn’t have done this without you’ stuck to the front of the manuscript, and he turns up four days later when both Luke and Lorelai are at work.
“I loved it,” he says with a genuine smile. “There’s a few parts here and there that need a bit of work, but it’s genius. I laughed out loud at so many different bits and I think the publishers are going to be crazy not to pick it up.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, I really do. Trust me, I know a good book when I see one.”
They laugh, and continue chatting for a while, catching up on what’s been going on in each other’s lives. Rory gets up and goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but as she’s standing at the sink, there’s a pain that shoots through her abdomen and a wet feeling in her knickers, and shit –
“Jess!” she yells. “I need you to drive me to the hospital!”
They almost don’t let Jess into the delivery room because he’s not the baby’s father and the midwife didn’t seem convinced when Jess said that they’re step cousins through marriage, but Rory screams and shouts until the midwife gives in and lets Jess into the room.
“You called my mom, right?” Rory asks as she’s lying on the bed in one of the terrible hospital gowns. “And Luke? And Lane, did you call Lane?”
“Relax, Rory, I called everyone. Your mom and Luke are stuck in traffic on 84, there’s been an accident. They’ll be here as soon as they can. Everyone in town probably knows you’re in labour right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all turn up in reception demanding to see you.”
Rory manages to let out a laugh before her next contraction hits. “Thank you for staying,” she says. “Sorry if I pushed you into it.”
“It’s okay,” Jess replies, placing his hand over hers and lacing their fingers together slightly. “I just wish the circumstances were different.”
It’s a girl, because of course it is. Her mom cries when she sees Rory cradling the baby in her arms, and Rory’s sure she saw the tears welling up in Luke’s eyes too.
“She’s perfect,” Lorelai whispers. “She reminds of you when you were born.”
Logan sends a check in the post and a long letter detailing the many reasons he can’t visit right now. Rory banks it because at least, she supposes, he’s making some sort of effort towards giving a hand, but barely skims the letter, tossing it aside after reading “work”, “business” and “wife”.
Somewhere in between the countless diaper changes, three am feeds and desperately trying to make her book ready to send to publishers, Jess seems to take up almost a permanent residence on the couch. He says he’s just there to help with the book, and although he does seem to spend much of his time scribbling in the margins of her work, he also watches the baby when Luke and Lorelai are at work and Rory desperately wants to sleep or take a shower.
“Be careful,” her mom says quietly in the kitchen one day. “That kid’s going to grow up thinking Jess is her dad if you don’t watch it.”
“I know,” Rory replies, and there’s a lump in her throat, because a part of her can’t help but think that maybe that wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Jess was right. The publishers love the book and before she knows where she is Rory’s signing contracts and looking at designs for the cover and then, she’s holding a proof copy in her hand.
“Jess, look!” she squeals when she gets home from the publishing office, shoving the book into his hands. “It’s real!”
He grins and hugs her, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. “Incredible, isn’t it?”
“I can’t believe it’s finally here! It’s real! It’s a book! A book that I wrote!”
“I know.”
“Thank you, Jess,” she says. “Seriously, thank you so much.”
Then she kisses him, and what she thought was the perfect day gets a whole lot better.
“Hi, it’s Rory Gilmore, I was wondering if it’s too late to make a slight change to the dedication in my book Gilmore Girls?”
In memory of Richard Gilmore, 1943 - 2015
To Emily and Lorelai, the original Gilmore Girls, and my daughter Charlotte, the next generation.
And to my husband Jess, without whom this book would not have been written.