#i can smell snow too you’re so right lorelai

[notfye]

why did people clown so hard on Lorelai for saying she smelled snow also. that’s like a normal thing people can do why did they all treat her like she was crazy

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

What about Byron?

PART THIRTY-EIGHT OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of surgery/appendicitis, mentions of family trauma, plentiful pop culture references, this is just fluff I know guys but I needed something to restore my faith in humanity even just momentarily

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: The first Thanksgiving in Ella and Jess’s new apartment doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

Humming a She Wants Revenge song under her breath, Ella leaned back against the cabinets and dried the fragile dishes. She was reminded of their days at the diner as Jess stood over the kitchen sink washing them. From her spot sitting on the counter right next to him, she could admire his profile and feel her cheeks heat up at the sight. He had grown into himself so well. But his beauty and her comfort at his presence were probably the only things keeping her nerves at bay. The dishes, her mother’s, had come in the mail from Fiona only two days earlier. White faux China adorned with pinkish-red roses. Ella had taken a few moments to recognize them, since there had been no note along with them. But then she remembered family holidays when her mother would take them out, only used for the most special occasions. Even though they were chipped in some places and had been bought at a rummage sale just after her parents had gotten married.

The dishes were where the plans for the holiday truly started to form. Chris, Leo, Matthew, and Mabel all had other engagements which took them out of town for Thanksgiving. Ella and Jess were still unsure of what they were doing. Adam was going to Noah’s, Fiona was going to her sister’s. Still, no word from Jake. Jess was wary of staying in Stars Hollow, though his time at the community center therapist’s office had been doing him well. They bounced him around to a different counselor each time he went, and talking to a complete stranger about all his issues hadn’t come easy, still wasn’t coming easy. But maybe just the fact that he was trying made him feel better.

On a whim, at the sight of the dishes, Ella had a wild idea. Instead of going to Stars Hollow, why not bring Stars Hollow to Philadelphia? The dishes were meant to be used. She couldn’t neglect them like an instrument unplayed. Not her mother’s dishes. And when she’d run it by Jess, he’d been more receptive than she’d thought he would be. Maybe he was just surprised she was open to contacting anyone from her family at all. She still seemed so standoffish about them, since the graduation ceremony. And the apartment wasn’t big, but certainly they could handle a few people over for one afternoon. Julie, Michael, and their girls would be in attendance. Along with Luke and Lorelai. But, when Liz and TJ heard Luke and Lorelai were coming, they somehow managed to invite themselves.

Jess wasn’t thrilled about it, and neither was Ella, but they were trying to keep level heads. Plan everything in advance and keep the day-of to a low-stress affair. It was only Monday, and they were already washing the dishes. It made Ella feel slightly more secure. And she had the whole week off, leaving plenty more time to prepare. Luke and Lorelai were also coming on Wednesday and staying the night at a motel, though Ella and Jess insisted they didn’t need to help. Ella was shocked Luke was willing to be away from the diner for more than one day, let alone Thanksgiving. Maybe getting back with Lorelai after Rory’s graduation had changed his outlook on life a bit.

She uttered a small sigh as she dried yet another dish, stressing herself out with the storm of thoughts raging in her head. A throb was starting behind her eyes.

“What’s up?” Jess asked, handing her another plate, his hands reddish and dripping from the hot water.

Ella shook her head slightly. “Nothing. Doesn’t it just seem a little bourgeois of us to have a set of dishes?”

“I don’t know. I think we’re exempt, considering you got these from your mom, who got them from someone else,” Jess pointed out, his voice light. “Sharing is caring for the proletariat.”

Snickering, she let a small smile cross her lips. “Well, it’ll have to be, considering we’re trying to fit eleven people in a shoebox.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Jess continued, trying to sound reassuring. She had been quiet and fidgety all evening, and he wondered just how wound up about the event she really was. Ella had a tendency to spread herself too thin and regret it when it was already too late.

“Look at you, Mr. Sunshine,” she quipped as she dried the last plate.

Jess shut off the water and watched the soapy foam begin to circle down the drain. He wiped his hands on his jeans, eyeing the tall stack of dishes which sat on Ella’s other side. She was right. Even a chipped set of plates didn’t look quite correct in their faded, out of date kitchen. But he only shrugged off the nerves. They were in for it, and there was nothing they could do about it. He came to stand in between Ella’s legs. She brought her arms to rest on his shoulders as he shifted closer.

“I’m working on my positive outlook.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, that wasn’t very convincing.”

“I just don’t know if I’d be able to handle you waking up to a motivational tape every morning,” she said, shrugging.

Jess smirked. “That’s cute. But it’s not 1985 anymore. It would be a motivational CD, at least.”

“Maybe you could start with reading that self-help book again?” she suggested, teasing. “Maybe Luke could bring it up for you on Wednesday?”

“Touché,” he replied.

“Hey,” she began, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “I kinda like that you read that book.”

He scoffed. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, searching his face for a moment. “Just seems exactly like something you would do...in a good way. Are you sure you’re okay with seeing your mom and everything?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I promise,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Okay. But just tell me if you’re not okay. I can kick them out without a second thought,” she said with mock gravity. “There’s a reason I was Luke’s favorite waitress.”

Jess chuckled. “Good to know.”

Then, she took a deep, tired breath. Tilting his head at her, he noticed the constant tinge of pink on her cheeks, and the way she seemed to sit as though the weight of the world was on her limbs.

“You okay, Stevens?” he asked.

“Other than the sense of impending doom...yeah, I’d say I’m doing alright,” she said.

Furrowing his brows, he brought the back of one hand to her cheek.

She groaned in annoyance at his needless concern. “You can’t get all Mother Hen on me now, Mariano. We’ve got pies to bake and a turkey to roast.”

“Elle, if-”

“I’m fine, Jess,” she continued, swatting his hand away when he attempted to move it to her forehead. “It’s just PMS. I have cramps, too. Don’t worry about it.”

After a moment, he finally managed an unconvinced: “Okay.”

.   .   .

Wednesday afternoon brought flurries of snow in stray showers throughout the day. A crisp, biting wind blew through the Philadelphia air, but it still felt a bit warmer than Connecticut to Lorelai. She could already smell the fragrance of pie as they approached the door of Jess and Ella’s apartment. It was odd, to say the least, standing in the dingy, grayish hallway of the building in front of the door, adorned with a rusty ‘7.’ A flash of memory crossed her mind, sitting in the living room of her home, braiding Ella’s hair. She’d warned Ella back then not to get involved with Jess, told her he was trouble. Sometimes, when she heard through the Lane grapevine about fights the two had, Lorelai wondered if she should have done more to protect Ella. She remembered nights comforting her on the couch after her mother died, feeling helpless and unable to get Ella to work through her emotions. Often, Ella would just sit there staring at the television screen, with the same glazed expression no matter what they were watching. Even after Rory fell asleep, Lorelai would stay up with her. Just to be there.

She knew what it was to be alone at such a young age. And she knew what it was to fall for a boy who didn’t deserve you just to escape the isolation. Sometimes, Ella reminded her more of herself than even Rory. But Rory had been on her mind every waking second in those days. And she had, somehow, let Ella slip through the cracks. Go on a rocky path with Jess. Not that it hadn’t turned out alright in the end. Even Luke approved, despite how against it all he had been at first. But Lorelai was still unsure of Jess, even after so many years. She was civil when they crossed paths, but actually spending a day inside the home Ella shared with him was a different matter entirely. All she’d ever seen of him were the angriest, nastiest moments. She didn’t like the idea of Ella having to weather such a storm for the rest of her life, simply because she and Jess had been together for so long.

“You gonna knock, or what?” Luke asked, his wide, expectant eyes flicking between the door and Lorelai. His hands were full of the sides he’d made the day before. One tupperware with garlic mashed potatoes, the other with glazed carrots; he knew how much Ella liked them. She’d always taken the leftovers from the diner when they were offered.

Lorelai nodded. “Yes. Just preparing myself to right walk into a John Hughes movie.”

“I told you, Lorelai,” Luke said gruffly, rolling his eyes. “He’s changed. They both have.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well, you’re getting the chance to. Just please knock on the damn door before my arms give out,” Luke said.

Lorelai scoffed, then raised a gloved hand and knocked. She was surprised how quickly Jess came to greet them, a thin smile on his face as he took their coats and the tupperwares from Luke. He seemed rushed, and there was a pink, checkered apron tied around his hips. It stood out against his otherwise all-black t-shirt and jeans ensemble. She was surprised to see a respectable haircut on his head.

“Hey. Make yourself at home. I gotta make sure the sugar doesn’t burn,” he said, then hurried back into the kitchen as they took off their shoes.

“Thanks,” Lorelai muttered, looking around the place.

It was surprisingly cozy, homey, considering the run-down state of the building. There were a few throw blankets draped over the back of the couch, and cacti planted in small pots on one of the end tables near the sliding glass door. Through it, she could see two mismatched armchairs next to each other on the tiny balcony. Art lined the walls. A few posters, famous photography, paintings and drawings Lorelai could recognize as Ella’s from their mixture of horror and botanicals. Stepping into the living room as Luke immediately offered to help Jess, she spotted a couple pictures in small frames, sitting on the end table sans cacti.

In one, Ella sat on Jess’s lap inside what looked to be a dive bar. Ella’s left arm was hooked around the back of Jess’s neck, and she used her free hand to gesture. Her lips were curling up at the edges as she spoke some word frozen in time. Jess had his head thrown back in laughter at whatever Ella had said. The sight made Lorelai’s eyebrows raise just a touch. She didn’t think she had ever heard Jess truly laugh at anything. The next picture saw Ella and Jess together in a train seat, the scenery passing them by through a small window. They were both asleep, Ella’s head on Jess’s shoulder, and Jess’s head on top of Ella’s. In another, just Ella was in the shot. She was glancing at the camera, not quite smiling but looking serene as she sat on a beach towel, the waves captured in mid-crash behind her. Still, Lorelai’s surprise grew. Ella hated the ocean.

“Nice apron, by the way,” Luke said, smirking at Jess as he rounded the corner to take a seat at the island.

Jess gave a sardonic grin in response, looking down at himself and blushing. “Thanks. Eleanor said it wouldn’t really feel like a pie day without it.”

“Oh, God, the pie days,” Lorelai piped up, groaning fondly at the memory. She came over to take the stool next to Luke. She had to admit, watching Jess stir a pot on the stove in a pink apron like a portrait of Donna Reed made a giggle rise in her throat. “I don’t miss those.”

“You weren’t the one she was waking up before the sunrise to get inside and use your oven because hers didn’t have convection!” Luke argued.

Lorelai snorted. “No, but I was the one who had to hear you rant about it before you gave me my morning coffee.”

“Need I remind you all that we always sold every slice?” Ella chimed in, emerging from the bedroom.

Lorelai smiled as she swiveled around on the stool. Ella wasn’t wearing any makeup and she was dressed in a large flannel and leggings. Her hair was messy and down. Maybe her style had changed since the grunge-goth diner phase.

“Hey! I told you to stay in bed!” Jess said, raising his eyebrows and pointing a wooden spoon at Ella from the kitchen.

Ella rolled her eyes, going over and giving Lorelai and Luke hugs of greeting. “Why would I stay in bed when there’s so much excitement out here?”

She waltzed into the kitchen next to Jess, eyes roaming over the mess of flour and spices and bowls and pie tins he had laid out next to the stove. She could tell by the smell of the apartment the apple was currently in the oven. It looked like he was working on the pecan next.

“Maybe because you just got your appendix taken out, like, twelve hours ago?” Jess said emphatically, eyes widening at her.

“What?” Luke asked.

“Is that why Jess is doing his Leave it to Beaver routine? I thought he was filling in because you were getting ready,” Lorelai said, a startled lilt in her tone. “But instead you just got your organs rearranged?”

“I had a minor surgery and I’m fine now,” Ella said, casual and content. The medicine they’d given her at the hospital hadn’t quite worn off yet, but she had been high around parental figures more than once. She could hold her own. She could even ignore the troubling notions about gender roles deeply ingrained in Lorelai’s comment, in the spirit of keeping arguments to a minimum. She glanced at the mixture Jess was beginning in the big blue bowl. “Just make sure to-”

“I’m following the recipes you gave me,” Jess cut in defensively. “If you’re not gonna stay in bed like you should, can you at least sit down and not backseat bake?”

Lorelai gave the two a suspicious glance. There was the bite in Jess’s voice. The one she could remember so well.

Ella gave a heavy sigh through her nose. Of all the weeks to get appendicitis. Pie-making was probably her favorite part of the winter months. “Fine. But I’m playing my Joni Mitchell record and you can’t complain about it.”

“You’re sick. You’re allowed to play whatever you want. You’re just not allowed to rip your stitches open,” Jess said, shrugging and gaining a teasing tone again. The smirk returned.

“I’m not sick, jackass,” she snapped.

Lorelai pursed her lips, looking over at Luke with eyes full of nostalgia. “Is it just me or have we been transported back to 2002?”

“Seems like it,” Luke mumbled, watching them bicker like they always had.

Before Ella could turn on her heel to leave the kitchen, heading for the record player in the corner of the living room, Jess put down his spoon and stopped her with a: “Hold on.”

“What?” she asked.

He took a couple steps towards her, wiping his hands on the apron before placing his palm on her forehead, feeling how warm it was. Then, he transferred the backs of his fingers to her rosy cheek. “Do you need more Ibuprofen?”

“Not for a couple hours,” she replied, more honest than he was expecting. Banter aside, he could see the fatigue in her glassy eyes. “It’s fine. The doctor said I could have a fever for up to forty-eight hours after surgery.”

“I know. Just checking,” he said, then dropped his hand as she made her way out.

Again, Lorelai’s confusion deepened. She couldn’t hide the crease on her forehead as she furrowed her brows at the interaction. Was Jess really playing nurse? Without complaint?

“I can’t believe you got her to a doctor at all,” Luke said.

Jess scoffed, looking down at the mixture as he stirred. “Only after she passed out on the bathroom floor because her fever was so high.”

“What?!” Luke repeated, instantly panicked.

“Tell them every detail of our lives, why don’t you, chatty Kathy?” Ella grumbled as she put the record on. “I’m fine now.”

A wave of relaxation washed over her as Joni Mitchell’s voice sounded. She went to the couch and threw an old blanket over herself, facing the kitchen.

“My God, Ella. It’s just like that time you broke your arm,” Lorelai said knowingly, going over to join Ella on the couch. She put a comforting hand on Ella’s knee. “Seriously, sweetie, you can’t just expect an organ to abracadabra out of your body.”

“Damn, if only Jess was still doing those magic tricks,” Ella teased in retaliation, narrowing her eyes at Jess as he glared at her through the opening to the kitchen.

Soon, he and Luke were enveloped in their own sporadic, monosyllabic conversation and it made Ella crack a small smile of nostalgia. She raked her hands through her hair as Lorelai began to ask about the apartment, how school was going. It was strange having such a long conversation with her. They hadn’t engaged in their old, pseudo mother-daughter dynamic in a long time. Part of Ella felt as though she were back to being fifteen again. But another part of her felt so elementally different. Able to recognize how much Lorelai had helped her in a way she simply hadn’t been able to comprehend as a teenager. Sure, she was beyond grateful even when she was young. But, now, she wondered if and where she would be if Lorelai hadn’t been there to help her following her mother’s death, or even in her life before. She probably wouldn’t have gotten a job at Luke’s, considering Lorelai was the one who had initially asked Luke to help the Stevens out and give them leftovers every once in a while. Who knew if Ella and Jess would have ever gotten together. The ‘what-ifs’ spinning around in her head only served to fill her heart with warmth for Lorelai. Not only due to the lingering effects of the hospital drugs.

“You said Rory’s still following Obama?” Ella asked, leaning against the side of the couch. She had never had surgery before, and never knew how absolutely exhausted she would be afterwards.

Lorelai nodded, taking a sip of the water Luke had brought her. He was currently fighting to get in the kitchen with Jess, who was still insistent on making the pies entirely by himself.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be with him until the inauguration in January,” Lorelai explained. “She’s Woodward and Bernsteining it up in Chicago right now. They’ve been making stops all around the country for months.”

“Wow,” Ella said, a soft smile still playing on her lips. “She’s really doing it. I can’t even imagine how happy she must be. I mean, I always knew she would. But it’s finally happening.”

“I know. Just a few steps closer to Christian Amanpour,” Lorelai agreed proudly, beaming. “But, hey, you don’t seem to be doing too bad yourself.”

“Yeah. Only a few more months and I’ll finally have that damn degree. The dean’s been talking to me about teaching after I graduate, at least part-time. I don’t know, though. I’m still mulling it over,” Ella said, thinking back to the meetings she’d been having recently. Her own classroom, her own office, her own space to create and guide others to create. And, of course, she could still work making art for Truncheon. The more she thought about it, dreamed about it, and talked it over with Jess, the more she could see herself staying at Penn for longer than just the end of the spring semester.

Lorelai’s face was unreadable for a moment, as she swallowed dryly and looked down into her drink. “And you’re really happy here? This is...this is what you want?”

Ella’s face fell just a touch. She had thought maybe such a question was coming. Lorelai had never loved Jess, never even liked him. Part of Ella thought it was completely understandable. An angry teenager who steals beer and pulls stupid pranks and walks out of town without a word? Dick moves, all of them. But Lorelai had never seen anything else from Jess. She had never made the effort to. She didn’t know him.

As she met Lorelai’s eyes once again, Ella gave a careful, sincere nod. “Really. I get to work on my art every day. I get to collect records and plant cactuses and I get to...I don’t have to live for anyone else. I even get to make pies, when I don’t have nine stitches in my side. I never wanted...I never wanted much else.”

“I know,” Lorelai replied, voice hushed with emotion. She glanced back over at her shoulder at the two men in the kitchen, now begrudgingly tag-teaming the desserts. “And Jess?”

.   .   .

The light was fading to an orangey glow by the time everyone had finished up dessert. Julie, Michael, and the girls had to start the drive to New Britain back almost right after, since Michael had work the following morning. Ella was sad to see them go. They were the ones who made her ache for her mother in a not altogether unpleasant way. The day Ella had lost her mother, Julie had lost her big sister. Forever, the two of them would be linked by the trauma. But not just the trauma. Julie provided a home away from home when Ella needed one. And Ella was a makeshift babysitter whenever Julie called. Julie was the only member of Ella’s family who was truly reliable, the one she could count on. Aside from the family she had found in Philadelphia.

But the apartment was still lively with noise as afternoon slowly melted away into evening. Liz and TJ danced near the kitchen to the sound of the Grateful Dead record on the turntable. Off in their own strange world. Ella didn’t mind. She’d been giving Jess’s hand comforting squeezes all day long, noticing how his shoulders were just a touch more tense and his words came out in short, anxious bursts when he spoke to his mother. He wasn’t completely miserable, though. At least, that was what he told her each time she asked.

Maybe the work of setting up the apartment and serving the food helped, keeping him busy. No matter how many times she tried to help him arrange the card tables for everyone to sit at, or put out the dishes, or clean any noticeably dirty surface, he’d only shrugged her off with some snarky remark and made her sit down. Once Luke and Lorelai got there, she could barely shift in her seat without one of the three pairs of watchful eyes landing on her in concern. It was sweet of them, really, but still made her squirm under their gaze. And pissed that she couldn’t enjoy the first Thanksgiving in the apartment the way she wanted to.

Stomach as full as it could be (the surgery had left her appetite at next to nothing), she sat comfortably on the old couch, Luke and Lorelai in the folding chairs across the card table from her. Luke was busy ranting about how corrupt Black Friday and malls in general were to Lorelai, making a sentimental twinkle spark in Ella’s hazel eyes. She was glad they’d had enough room to fit three tables in the space, with four seats at each. The set-up was arguably too tight, but they’d managed. Erin and Annie had only spilled two cups of milk over the course of the night.

Ella felt a sleepy calm beginning to settle in her body. Through the sliding glass doors, she could see a little sliver of the sunset. Soon, the sky would cloud over and there would be another spray of early snow. The room smelled of wintry spices and hot gravy. Jess still hadn’t reached Luke’s level of perfection, but he had done a pretty damn good job with dinner. And, she had to admit, the pies weren’t too shabby either. It shocked her how seamlessly he had pulled it all off, in his element as he put it together. Though not without a scowl and some huffy breaths.

Ella looked back at Jess, sitting to her left. He held Doula in his arms. She sat on his lap, facing him, as his hands gently supported her back. She was a little over six months old, and almost able to sit up on her own. But, Jess figured it’d be best to keep his hands where they were for some insurance. The baby had somehow tugged the pendant of his necklace out from beneath his shirt, and was alternating between staring at it in wonderment and sucking on it. Jess was having some murmured conversation with her, and she occasionally responded with a gurgle or a coo. Even a laugh when he tickled her stomach.

Ella watched in awe. She remembered how terrified he’d been when he’d first met her nieces, at a Thanksgiving long past. But, now, he handled his sister, along with her nieces, with such ease. He had found a deck of cards for old time’s sake, put on a little magic show for the kids during the lull between dinner and dessert. He’d convinced Annie the smaller half of the wishbone was still lucky when Erin had broken off the bigger half. Just because it didn’t look as big, he said, didn’t mean the magic wasn’t as big. When he realized Ella had caught him saying it, he’d looked away with a scarlet flush and cleared his throat. Sometimes, she could really see the writer in the way he spoke.

“What about Hemingway?” he asked quietly as Doula looked up from the pendant with giant brown eyes and drool dripping down her chin.

Doula gave a little squawk of noise, then swatted one sticky hand up to pat Jess’s face. He scrunched up his nose and chuckled. Then, Doula went back to marveling at the small, circular pendant.

“See?” Jess said, tossing a glance at Ella. He could feel her soft gaze. “Doula likes Hemingway.”

Ella scoffed. “Then her taste is just as bad as her brother’s.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Jess said to the baby, leaning in with a conspiratory whisper. “She likes poetry. Like she can criticize anyone for their taste.”

Narrowing her eyes playfully at Jess, Ella put an arm around his shoulders and inched closer to the two of them. “What about Byron, Doula?”

Doula didn’t look up, instead grabbing the pocket of Jess’s t-shirt in her pudgy fist.

Jess smirked pointedly at Ella.

Ella rolled her eyes. “You’ve taken her to the dark side already.”

“If you mean the right side, then yes,” Jess shot back.

Snorting a laugh, Ella pressed a kiss to Jess’s cheek. Her freckled face became almost wistful. Her raspy whisper near his ear was so sincere it made Jess’s stomach do a flip. “I love you.”

“Love you back,” Jess replied, his voice barely audible over all the others in the room.

She was almost surprised he said anything at all. She hadn’t expected reciprocation with so many people around, and it made a joyful tingling spread from her center out to her fingers and toes. She ran an absent hand through the ends of his hair, a smile painted on her lips.

“Thank you for doing this, Jess,” she said. “You’re the fucking best.”

“Language, Eleanor,” Jess scolded, gesturing playfully to Doula, who still fiddled obliviously with the necklace.

Ella snickered. “Right, sorry, sorry. I’m just...you didn’t have to do all this. I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to go and get appendicitis.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, eyes still trained carefully on the baby in case something unforeseen happened. He was more confident in his childcare abilities than he had once been, but there was still an untrained fear within him that she would tumble straight out of his lap. “Don’t worry, Stevens. I don’t do things I don’t wanna do.”

“Sure you don’t, James Dean,” she teased. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Look who’s talking,” he quipped in return, a smirk still present on his face. “Besides, it was better than scraping plates in the diner all day at Thanksgiving. After doing that a couple years in a row, it’s pretty much nowhere to go but up from now on.”

“It’s true,” she said. “Maybe I should do the dishes, just in case there’s any rogue knives in the sink.”

“Very funny,” he deadpanned, thinking of the scar which had almost completely faded from his left hand. “But I’m still not falling for it. You’re not helping me clean up. You’re gonna watch Carrie and then fall asleep so we don’t have to go back to the hospital with your guts spilling out.”

“I’m not allowed to swear in front of her, but you’re allowed to say stuff like that?” Ella asked, laughing through her words.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Jess joked coolly.

“You really don’t need to clean up by yourself,” Ella continued, not budging. “My stitches aren’t even in the double digits. I could at least help you put the leftovers away.”

“The next time you find me passed out on the bathroom floor with a high fever, then you can tell me all about how much you want to see me cleaning the apartment,” Jess said.

Her smile disappeared. Sighing through her nose in embarrassment, Ella nodded. She swallowed dryly. “Fair enough.”

She couldn’t have been out for more than thirty seconds or a minute. She didn't hit her head or anything. The bathmat had cushioned her fall almost entirely. But she had never passed out before. She’d felt almost as terrified as Jess sounded when he practically carried down to the car and sped to the emergency room. He was right. If the situation were reversed, there was no way in hell he’d be cleaning up alongside her. Especially not a day and a half after surgery. She had to remember the last time she hadn’t been feeling like herself. With a migraine and period cramps right when she felt as though everyone was expecting the most from her. But it was just in her head. It was okay to let go every once in a while. It was okay. She reminded herself that he wasn’t trying to tell her what to do. He was only asking her to take care of herself. That, she could try. She didn’t ever want to put him out like this again. And she didn’t ever want to see the look she had seen on his face when he’d been driving to the hospital again. Not if she could help it.

“But, if it’ll make you feel better, we can have everyone over next weekend and do Thanksgiving food,” Jess suggested. “Chris was pissed he was missing the pies. I don’t think he’d mind if we had a do-over.”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Mariano,” she said. Then, after a moment’s pause: “I’m sorry. I know I can get so wound up.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” he teased.

“I was just excited for my pies,” she admitted. “But, just for the record, you did a kickass job with them. Sorry I was freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “So, you’re not a good patient. Who cares? I was excited for your pies too. Just please don’t make rhubarb. All the rhubarb makes me think about is Kirk running naked through the town square that time after Christmas.”

And she felt a beaming smile spread over her face as she laughed and gave him a nod of confirmation. She pressed another kiss to his cheek and told him she would make him any pie he wanted. And she felt even more sure of the words she’d spoken to Lorelai the day before. Lorelai had been surprised to hear them, but Ella couldn’t bring herself to be even the least bit shocked as they’d come out of her mouth. She felt it more confidently than she ever had before, seeing him cradle his baby sister in the aftermath of a Thanksgiving he’d put together all by himself, without being asked. Because Jess was Jess. And it was just what he did. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: My contribution for Day 22 of A Gilmore Christmas is a Literati oneshot. Sending a big ‘ol HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely Emma, @alspancakeworld. Thanks for organizing this event and for allowing me to participate! xx (Check out all the other cool stuff in the link above.)

(A03) (FFnet)

Summary: It’s late, close to Christmas, and Rory and Jess find themselves alone strolling through a decor-decked Stars Hollow to share a moment where past and present feelings collide. (Post-AYITL but no pregnancy) (Holiday Angst and Feels)

Word count: 3.1k

It’s my first attempt at Literati fic. Happy reading! :)

xx Ashlee Bree

When All Sense Breaks Loose

This one will wreck him. Oh, yeah. This one promises calamity.

                                                  _

Jess hears it in the cracking first. He feels it in the thawing of his bones the moment he reaches out to catch the edge of a snowflake with his thumb and swipes it off her cheek, his thoughts splitting into chaos because ‘over…long over’ is what they’re supposed to be. And they were. They are.

But then she steps close enough to shoulder-bump him, her head tilted, her eyes shining up at him with a mixture of alcohol, gaiety, and anticipation as they head back to the house so they can drink coffee and gorge on some of Sookie’s gourmet sugar cookies; and soon, all of those unspoken words he swore he’d deleted years ago when they were still a couple of twenty-something kids up to their waists in missed chances, spill out into the margins of his mind in ink too permanent to miss. The words fall out all tangled together like carefully embedded prose to expose dusty questions that had apparently never settled like he’d intended.

(Or more like he’d damn-well hoped.)

                                                     _

He smells it in the crispness of the air second.

Clumsy as ever, Rory folds her fingers into the crook of his elbow in a clinging effort to keep herself steady after her foot slides backward on a slippery patch of sidewalk near Miss Patty’s dance studio. Her hands curl into the lapels of his jacket. They fly around his neck within seconds next, desperate for somewhere soft and sturdy to land, and his lungs betray him with one measly hitch of breath. Backstabbing bastard lungs, they are, too. Freezing at her touch like it’s the first time. Sending fresh trembles along his shoulders, then down the columns of his spine.  

“This feels like a scene straight out of While You Were Sleeping,” she laughs.

Her tone’s full of self-mockery and ridicule, but she doesn’t seem bothered by her impromptu ice skating or her near-toppling into his arms at all, which Jess finds curious.

“But as long as you don’t rip your pants up the ass,” she continues, “we should be okay the rest of the way. At least—well, would you say you’re more Blades of Glory or Wayne Gretzky?”

“Charlie Conway, probably.” When she stares at him blankly, he flicks her side with his index finger and says, “From the Mighty Ducks?”

“Oooh, lucky me! I mean, had you said Gordon Bombay, I’m afraid I’d have to contend with your weak and wobbling hockey knees,” Rory says in a way that denotes both her relief and her amusement.

“In that case, we’d both be screwed.”

“Right, so no ripped jeans or ice-kissed butts for you. Got it, mister.”  Just to be safe, however, she links her arm through his anyway. She leans against him for warmth or for support (or for who the hell knows what else), as they recommence their stroll through Stars Hollow.

They somehow manage to take the long and slow route home. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, so why should he? And even though Jess knows he shouldn’t, he breathes in the lavender soap of her skin and allows himself to remember how well she’s always fit against his side. How right she’s always felt. Like the home he’d never had with Liz…or with any other woman he’s dated since Rory.

He thinks of sleigh rides, of a stolen teenage kiss or two behind Gypsy’s Auto Repair; he thinks of quiet nights in, of cuddling and movie bingeing, of Indian chicken curry which stunk up the whole of his uncle’s apartment, of talking Faulkner, Hemingway, and Bukowski with little to no regard for time. He remembers how certain of her, and of them, he’d once been.

I know you. I know you better than anyone.

The reflection hurts. It chafes him worse than frostbite to know he’ll probably always be the one who understands her best.

But what does it matter? What good does it do to reflect on those chapped patches of his past? How does it help to contemplate his screwed-up life? Why wonder and wish? Why—why in hell should he waste any more time on unfulfilling idioms like ‘if?’

(Except he does.)

                                                          _

Jess sees it in the pine trees third, their boughs bent and threatening to break because they carry too much weight. They hold too many frozen dreams that’ll hit the ground soon but won’t melt. They’ll try, sure, but they’ll never seem to fade away despite the passing of countless springs. They can’t—it’d be too dry without their existence afterwards, too unburdening.

Because you didn’t say goodbye.

I deserve better than this.

You, me…you know we’re supposed to be together.

I knew, I knew it the first time I saw you.

How many years has it been, huh? Ten? Fifteen? Fifteen years he’s spent trying to thaw these thoughts inside of him, acting like she hasn’t creeped through his mind when his world grew too hollow or too full; and that's either too many to count on fingers, or too much time for him to try and pretend otherwise. It’s asinine to deceive himself. A waste of good lies.

I knew, I knew, I knew…

The ringing in his mind won’t stop.

It plays in the background like static because he still discerns that dangerous load of thoughts in his periphery—all of those old moments of theirs which promised continuity and evolution and ‘I love you’s’ which didn’t need saying; that hand of hers which never felt too heavy in his and would never be anything but a pleasure to hold—to thread his fingers through for no reason—to raise to his mouth so he could learn the paths of her palms, her wrists, her knuckles, all of her sweet, soft skin, with his lips over and over again—and he doesn’t want to let the perilousness of hope to overwhelm him. He doesn’t want to blink. He doesn’t want to close his eyes. Don’t think, don’t think! He doesn’t want to find himself blinded or paralyzed by dreams he’s no longer supposed to be dreaming.

But they can’t be stopped. They unravel and unwind. They…they keep on coming regardless of the iron walls he raises and reinforces inside his own head to ward against the intrusion.

It’s draining, this looped thinking.

He can’t win. He can’t break free. So why, he wonders, why the hell does he try?  It’s exhausting and pointless and awful and unbearable. His head is the cruelest place to be.

Yeah, it’s crueler than anything.

                                                          _

It’s a few hours past midnight now, and despite having closed out the only bar in town with scotch, candlelight, and conversation a good half hour ago, they still loiter beneath the snowcapped Christmas lights in front of Luke’s with nothing but snow and old memories for company. Rory’s resplendent in her double-breasted peacoat, her mouth clicking off new words and subjects as fast as fingers on a keyboard. There’s a bounce in her knees at the moment which he swears she reserves only for donut sightings, new book releases, Lorelai and coffee, so he’s at a loss when she drags him under the awning below where it says Williams Hardware and presses her face into the window like she’s investigating something. Or like she’s looking for someone’s dropped holiday crumbs.

The diner’s black inside, however; the sign flipped to show it’s closed. And it probably has been for some hours now. Undeterred, however, she turns around to flash him a knowing grin—a hint of intrigue dimpling the edges around her cracked lips, “Of all the java joints, in all the towns, it hangs from mine! Can you believe it?” she says with an exhilarated ‘eeee.’

“Believe what?”

“Look up.”

Jess inclines his head. He feasts his eyes on the object of interest which dangles above him like the universe’s next big test. (Or trick, depending on how this conversation ends.)

“Huh. That’s new,” he muses.

“It’s not only new, my friend, but legendary,” Rory says as her tongue slides cheekily across her lower teeth. “And I mean that in the sense that this so unbelievable, I’m convinced the Doctor plopped down in his T.A.R.D.I.S. and threw us into some kind of warped alternative reality where Luke spends his free holiday hours stringing popcorn and disappearing down chimneys.”

He acts like he’s not hanging on by her scarf strings.

“So, uh…” he clears his throat, gulping down that familiar flutter he’s been trying to subdue all night, “what now?”

“I’d say we have a conundrum, Watson.”

“We sure do, Sherlock.”

The ghost of their past love, which is not dead yet, follows close behind this remark to rustle the nerves of his heart like a skeleton because she’s all doe-eyed and lively, flirty without trying, and not to mention cute as hell. It makes Jess clench his fists as he struggles to get a fucking grip. Making him feel things he thought he’d taught himself how to forget.  

How many times can this happen? How many goddamn ways to Sunday can he be kicked in the gut? It won’t do anymore, alright? Not when he’s taken the trouble to grow this thick, mature leather skin.

(Except he knows it’s too late. He already knows…)

He’s back where he started again.

He’s back at the threshold of seventeen where he first spotted that ellipsis carved into the corners of her mouth on the night they first met, standing in her bedroom doorway like a thief, coveting her literature because he knew with a glance that this girl was sentences and paragraphs. He knew she was pages and chapters and books which were yet to be understood in some overarching theme he wouldn’t be able name. He knew she was a still-developing story he’d need to read through to the conclusion.

I knew. I knew the first time I saw you.

That same ellipsis is back in Rory's features tonight, in this moment. Or maybe it’s always been there? Maybe it’s never disappeared, never gone away?

She wears it like a bookmark: pressed between every curve and contour, written between every beautiful line of her face. It’s the same one asking him to turn over to the next page right now…and follow again.

                                                    _

He senses it in the forgotten silence fourth.

                                                    _

“Luke would be furious if he knew,” Rory says with a flick of her forefinger.

“Maybe he already does? Lorelai has wife sway these days. I’m sure she works that to her advantage,” Jess replies with a snicker.

The December air has reddened her nose and there’s snow stuck to her pant leg, but she seems impervious to the cold of her beloved Stars Hollow.

“Mom would revel in how you’ve bestowed her with all the credit for this, but no,” she shakes her head, obviously amused. “No, Luke’s compliance with town tradition would make Taylor too gleeful.”

Pensive, Jess nods. He rolls up the sleeves of his brown coat.

“Let’s take it down then.”

“What!?” Her eyes widen, horrified.“No! Wait, wait!”

Part diverted, part bemused, he pauses to quirk an eyebrow at her, “What for? Petal will eat it. There’s not a garbage dropping in all of Connecticut that pig hasn’t devoured like it’s creme brulle,” he offers reassuringly.

“Yeah, but…that’s not what I—”

“He’s become the Tiny oinking Tim of this crazy town, anyway. Except with tender hooves instead of crutched feet.”

“And Kirk.”

“Yeah, and Kirk,” Jess concedes wryly.

“Hold on,” Rory interjects in a bolder tone. “Let’s stop think about this for a second. If we do this,” she exhales, her blue-knit mittens raised in supplication and her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, “if we do it, then we forfeit the chance to witness a ranting, raving Luke throwing candy canes all over the floor of the Soda Shoppe tomorrow.”

“Imagine the entertainment potential with me here, Kimmel.” She sweeps her arms out for dramatic effect, zooming in at him with her hands like a camera. “It’d be like Jingle All the Way meets Stars Wars.”

“With Taylor as what? A crowd-flung Booster? Chewbacca?”

Rory nods enthusiastically, “There’d be heavy Wookie wailing and all.”

Jess’ lips twitch as he considers this. Then he shrugs. “Nothing we haven’t seen a million times before.”

“No! But…but…this year he’s selling candy cane light sabers that glow as red as Kylo’s tantrums!” she says in ta-da; as if, somehow, this information will confuse him enough to halt his next maneuver.

“Where’s Han Solo when you need him to smuggle you some good marketing?” Jess cringes. “Geez.”

“Still stabbed through the chest somewhere, unfortunately. Besides,” Rory adds with a wave of her hand, “I doubt the Force is strong enough to fix Taylor’s strange slogans.”

“You said it, Skywalker, not me.”

He reaches up then, still shaking his head, to curl his hand around the decoration’s sparkly red bow. Finding the hook, he threatens to yank it to the ground with a good tug or two despite the punches Rory pounds into his arm in playful protest. Smirking, he lifts it further out of her reach. She narrows her eyes in warning.

“Don’t even think about it, Mariano!” she exclaims as she lunges over his shoulder amid a peal of laughter. Attempting to grab it from him, she jumps up-and-down like a pogo stick. “Oh my God, don’t you dare deprive me of the possibility of Luke going all Vader in the middle of Taylor’s SantaLand tomorrow!”

“Cool your over-caffeinated bouncin’ there, Easter bunny,” Jess laughs. He twines the slack of her scarf around her head to slow her down. “What if I said I plan to leave a festive chalkperson in its stead? Would that be an acceptable substitute, d’you think?”

Lowering his hand, he allows the ball to swing, unencumbered, above them like an ornament. Rory pulls back to unloosen her scarf, her face flushed and her mood jovial. “Only if you draw Santa Claus,” she says.

He wrinkles his nose, “Nah, I was thinking more like Dickens’ Christmas ghosts. This town needs a good haunting.”

“Whatever you say, Scrooge.”

“Excuse me, but the name’s Dodger to you.”

“As if I could forget,” she says with a wistful chuckle, averting her gaze.

Moments like these always feel so easy and natural and inevitable between them. Like laughter, or…breathing.

“Putting the whole Dennis the Menace scheme aside for a second,” Rory looks down and crunches salt and snow beneath her boots, “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we could—oh, I don’t know…”

When she stops mid-thought to click the heels of her boots together and shift her body to the side, fumbling with her mittens, he prods. “What?”

“We could…we could, um, let it stay there, couldn’t we? It’s not bothering anyone up there, and Luke’s inflammatory reaction whenever he sees it tomorrow will be nothing short of Oscar-worthy and, well,” Rory adds in a languid but rambling tone which is a little reminiscent of her timorous teenage self, “it wouldn’t be illegal if two people found themselves under it or anything.”

“You mean, like…” Jess swallows. His voice comes out husky, like it’s comprised of strangled consonants and vowels, and it makes the words quiver when they breach his lips to meet the air. He hates the sound. “Kind of, uh,” he falters a second time; scratches his chin, “kind of like we are now?”

Shrugging ‘yeah’ in a nonchalant way, but still fidgeting more than normal by bouncing on her toes, Rory angles toward him with warm but wary eyes that size him up as if they’re still trying to decide something, “I mean, don’t you think some traditions can be nice?” she asks timidly.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t know.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. He rocks side-to-side as if he’s trying to circulate warmth to his limbs, but really, he’s avoiding her eyes. “Maybe,” he amends.

“So, certain ones can be okay then?” Rory asks with a tilt of her head.

“Depends, I guess.”

There’s a slight edge to her expression when she looks at him here: something that’s equal parts adorable, nervous, tenacious, and bashful. It’s a look that reaches out with a hand that shivers whenever she scoots forward to huddle between his feet, her fingers trembling against his shirt, above his heart. She shivers hard.

“Would you be scandalized if I told you I liked this tradition?” she asks.

“No,” Jess breathes. “Not really.”

“After all,” Rory whispers, her blue eyes warm and eager as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her forehead against his, leaning in with calamity curved into her smile, “what’s the harm in you and me beneath some mistletoe at least once in our lives?”

“I’ll quote the Beach Boys here and say—” Cupping her face in his hand, drawing her against him, he surrenders to that awaiting gift like he would delicious poison, “God only knows.”

                                                        _

Jess tastes it on her parting and pliant lips last. Her tongue slides in and tells him everything he needs to know because this part—the kissing, that zipping and tingling chemistry which adrenalizes every nerve in his body the moment their mouths collide—is the one thing that’s worked flawlessly between them since the start. And it still does.

The connection between them is still there, still flourishing.

It’s more alive in this moment than it was fifteen years ago, and it’s sharpening into something denser and deeper. It’s precarious at best; irrational to the core. It’s becoming a fact as inevitable and as irrevocable and as fucking evident as black letters on a pure white page, and Jess knows there’s not a single damn thing he can do to prevent his mind from writing it down in literal easy-to-read lines. No margins this time. He knows he can’t stop the rush of past, present, and future from merging inside his pounding chest, from rustling those old feelings he’s tried (and failed) to claw from his heart like weeds.

This is it. There’s no subduing or denying. As F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, this is ‘the beginning and ending of everything.’

Calamity hangs above his head with the mistletoe then falls like the December flakes around them as Rory kisses him long and hot and sweet. Wrecking him with the knowledge that he could—yeah, he could fall in love with her again all too easily.

[ksfd89]

Welcome Home

Literati fic for Day 5 of AGilmoreChristmas!

Lorelai's house is like something from a picture. Chrystallised in snow, it resembles the gingerbread house Sookie makes this time of year and, as Lorelai remarked, the entire town looks like it was built in a snowglobe. Rory tucks her legs up on the couch, taking the cup of coffee her mother hands her. This year, she doesn't care how few barcounts Stars Hollow has. It's good to get away.

"You okay, sweets?" Lorelai asks, sitting next to her and Rory smiles and nods. She glances over at the basket beside her to see if her daughter's stirring. Charlotte is still soundly asleep, the Santa hat Lorelai gave her tickling her cheek, and Rory smiles.

"She's still out for the count," she says and Lorelai sighs.

"You'd think she'd be more excited for her first Christmas."

"Mom, she's five months old."

"I know, I know."

"Anyway, I'll take as much sleep as I can," Rory says, lowering her voice. "Charlotte still won't sleep through the night."

"Give it time," Lorelai says and Rory nods. "You were a fussy baby too and then you just settled, until you found your voice. You slept pretty well though."

"I hope it's not too long with her," Rory says, somewhat pessimistically, and Lorelai pats her hand.

"Has it been tougher lately? You sound stressed."

"I've been stressed since she was born."

"I know - but more lately."

"I'm just tired," Rory says honestly. "You know, sometimes I think she's still mad at me for moving back to New York. I think she was calmest when we brought her here after the hospital."

"Well, who wouldn't love it here?" Lorelai teases but she adds, "You know you guys can move back here. Anytime, hon. The door's open."

Rory smiles and nods, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she places a hand on the edge of the basket, looking into Charlotte's face. When her daughter's eyes are open they are bright blue, just like hers. Baby eyes, everyone said, but they haven't changed. Lorelai eyes, Luke called them. Rory likes that. Under the Santa hat Charlotte has a swirl of dark hair and Emily said, somewhat sadly, that she looked just like her mother. Rory didn't tell her how she prayed that hair would stay.

"She looks so peaceful," Lorelai whispers and, as if on cue, Charlotte's eyes snap open and she starts to scream.

"You jinxed it!" Rory moans and Lorelai cries, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"You had a baby, how could you forget?" Rory demands. She scoops Charlotte up, snuggling her against her chest. The Santa hat falls off but Rory wraps Charlotte tightly in the flannel shirt Luke gave her. It serves as a blanket, ever since Rory brought her home, and most of the time it calms Charlotte down. Now, however, she sobs inconsolably and Rory deduces, "She's hungry. I can't believe what an appetite she has."

"Well, she's got it from both of us."

Rory rolls her eyes, sitting back against the couch to feed the baby. Charlotte's cries cease as she eats and Rory lets out a long breath.

"Are things really okay?" Lorelai asks anxiously and Rory exclaims, "Mom, you're asking me every two seconds!"

"Well, I worry! I can't help it, I'm your mother, and this one's grandmother." Lorelai wrinkles her nose at the word but goes on, "I want to make sure you're both okay."

"We're both okay."

"Because if it's not okay -"

"Mom, we're okay," Rory says, sitting up as Charlotte finishes. "If we weren't, I'd tell you. And you call every week, sometimes twice a week, so you can see."

"I can see how tired you are."

"I'm a mom!" Rory exclaims. "That's part of the deal, right?"

"Right," Lorelai agrees, and then sighs and smiles. "I'm just glad you guys are here. I've missed you."

"We've missed you too," Rory says, smiling over Charlotte's head. She burps her and Lorelai holds out her arms.

"Come here, cutie."

"Do you mean me or the baby?" Rory jokes. She passes Charlotte over and Lorelai kisses her cheeks and each of her baby fingers.  Charlotte’s mouth breaks into a wide smile and Lorelai laughs, kissing her again.

"I can't believe how big she is already."

"Next year it'll be even worse," Rory remarks, and Lorelai nods. "Maybe she'll actually enjoy Christmas though."

"Charlotte knows!" Lorelai protests. "She just doesn't know how to say it, right, angel?"

Charlotte stares at both of them, wide-eyed, and Lorelaia and Rory laugh.

"How about we take Charlotte for a Christmas walk?" Lorelai suggests. "Show her the town?"

"Mom, we went out this afternoon. I didn't think Miss Patty would ever give her back."

"Charlotte didn't see all the lights before."

"Okay, but I'm blaming you if Taylor kidnaps her," Rory says darkly. "He kept saying she could be used in the Nativity this year."

"But then he said Jesus was a boy, remember?" Lorelai says. "Come on, maybe we can snaffle some hot chocolate."

It's freezing out. Rory has put on a coat, scarf and hat and is still chilled through and she holds Charlotte closely, half thinking they should just go back. The town is beautiful though. The Christmas lights are shining all over the snow, like splashes of gold, and the tree stands proudly in the middle of the square. Rory stares up at it, remembering how last year the scent made her nauseous. Or maybe it was the situation. She didn't suppose Logan appreciated her news as a Christmas gift.

"Rory?"

Lorelai is looking at her, confused, and Rory shakes herself, smiling.

"Just admiring the tree."

Charlotte has dozens of admirers herself. They are waylaid by Miss Patty, Babette and Morey and Kirk.

"You know you can borrow Petal anytime," Kirk tells them. "She's always been a great buddy when I've thrown up, and I hear babies do that."

"You heard correctly."

"I'm sure Charlotte throws up as much as I do. Petal can clear that up in seconds."

"Thanks, Kirk," Lorelai says deftly. "Merry Christmas."

"This town is weird," Rory remarks and Lorelai laughs. "You're noticing now?"

Taylor gives them hot chocolate with a ten percent discount on account of the season, and reminds them of the Princess Charlotte sundae he concocted.

"I made it in her honour," he says sadly and Rory says, "And we love it, Taylor. But it's not really the weather for sundaes."

"Never stopped you before," Taylor sniffs, and Rory can't argue. "What's your daughter going to say when you don't buy her special sundae?"

"Seeing as all she can say now is baby sounds, I think we're good," Rory says. "Thanks, Taylor."

"I expect you to buy sundaes next time!" he calls as they walk out. "It's not for me, it's for her!"

"Crazy town," Lorelai comments, putting her arm around Rory. "Come on, let's go home."

They walk back as fast as the icy ground allows, and the house's lights are welcome and warm. Rory sees there's still no extra car and asks Lorelai, "What time is Jess getting here?"

"I'm not sure, angel. Luke'll know. Let's go in, it's so cold!"

Luke has started cooking and delicious smells fill Rory's nostrils. She breathes them in, instantly hungry, but a dull feeling takes its place when Luke tells them,

"Jess says the roads are jammed. He'll probably be here tomorrow, not tonight."

"That's too bad," Rory says. She concentrates on taking off Charlotte's coat and hat and jumps as Lorelai says, "Hey, let me hang those up. Go spoil your appetite."

"Charlotte needs changing," Rory says, for once relieved at that distraction. "That'll spoil my appetite, no need for snacks!"

Lorelai laughs and Rory takes Charlotte to the bathroom, changes her and takes her back through so Lorelai can spoil her some more.

The rest of the evening passes quietly. Rory and Lorelai have a movie marathon, showing Charlotte all the classics, before putting her to bed and watching some more. Rory's eyelids droop during some kind of Lifetime drama, a handful of chocolate halfway to her mouth, and she's dimly aware of her mother saying, "You're falling asleep."

"No," Rory yawns, letting her eyelids drop. The next thing she knows a blanket is being tucked around her and she looks up to see Lorelai bending over her, a tender look in her eyes.

"Merry Christmas, angel," her mother whispers. "Get some rest."

"I'm glad I'm home," Rory says, half-awake, and Lorelai smiles, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm glad you're home too. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

When Rory opens her eyes again the room is empty and dark. She sits up, wincing at the crick in her neck, and the time on her phone reads that it's just past eleven thirty. Rory opens the phone properly and sees there are no new messages and sits back against the cushions, feeling jumbled. It's not Christmas yet, but Rory is afraid Logan won't call at all. Part of her doesn't want him to. She’s barely spoken to him since Charlotte was born.

Getting up, Rory stumbles into her bedroom, her legs a little numb. Her breasts are hard and full and Rory is more relieved when Charlotte wakes up, indignantly hungry. Rory turns on the light, looking around her childhood room as Charlotte feeds. Her books are still on the shelves and Rory imagines showing them to Charlotte as she grows older, giving them to her to read. She doesn't know if Charlotte will even like books, but she always seems captivated when Rory reads to her. She tried a story Jess gave her and Charlotte dribbled all over the page.

Rory burps Charlotte as she finishes eating and lays her back in the cradle. Luke built it right before Charlotte's birth and there's an ABC carved into the headboard, along with an alphabet quilt. It's perfect, but tonight Charlotte doesn't want to lie down. She fusses and then starts crying properly, filling the room with loud wails.

"What's up?" Rory asks, picking her up. "You're wearing reindeer pyjamas, kid! How can you not want to sleep? You know it's Christmas Eve? Well, you probably don't, but Santa can't come if you don't sleep."

Charlotte ignores her and Rory sighs. "I should have figured you're too little for that to work."

She walks around the room in an endless circle, rubbing Charlotte's back and kissing her cheeks. Charlotte won't sleep at all and by now Rory's wide awake. She feels restless and cooped up, as she has for most of the past few months, and finally decides they both need some air. Tiptoeing out, she puts her coat on and buttons Charlotte's tightly around her, as well as adding a blanket and a scarf and hat. Opening the door, Rory steps out and then gasps. Everything shimmers, silent and frozen. The world, for a moment, is perfectly still. Rory closes her eyes, breathing in and out, and feels herself relax. She walks away from the house and down into the town, stopping by the gazebo. Charlotte's stopped crying by now, and Rory looks down at her blue eyes.

"This was Mommy's favourite place," she tells her. "I used to come here all the time, with your Aunt Lane, or just by myself. I'd have a big pile of books and I'd be happy all day. I was so happy then."

She feels a little sad, thinking of her younger self, but adds, "I'm going to take you here too. Maybe we can read together, when you're older."

Charlotte blinks and Rory laughs. Looking up, Rory sees all the lights are on in the church and is confused before remembering. Midnight Mass. She edges closer towards the building. Lane is likely to be inside, but Rory stands out, closing her eyes and listening to the soft melody of the carols. She imagines the Nativity and is sure the same old doll is being used. Rory smiles, listening to the music and remembers a line from a book she once read. Could be better, could be worse...at least there's a baby at the center of it. Her own baby wriggles a little and Rory lifts her up, giving Charlotte a kiss.

"Let's get you home, angel. It's cold outside."

Rory turns and, just then, a car slows and stops. She is puzzled for a moment and then exclaims, "Jess!"

Jess cuts the engine and gets out, smiling.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I live here!" Rory laughs. "Or I did - you know what I mean. What are you doing here? Luke said you couldn't get here until tomorrow."

"I didn't think I'd make it but the roads cleared. I could have stayed in a motel but figured I'd surprise you."

"Well, you certainly did."

Rory takes him in; his jacket shrugged on and his crooked smile, his dark eyes warm.  Surprise at seeing Jess is never longlived.  Of course he’s here, of course he made it.  Happiness bubbles through her chest, wiping the melancholy from before.

Rory smiles at him and Jess grins down at Charlotte.

"How is she?"

"Great. Well, a little restless, but she's calmed down now."

"Felt the need to take her on an impromptu town tour?"

"Neither of us could sleep. Besides, it's safer now that everyone else is in bed."

"I can imagine. May I?"

Jess gestures to hold Charlotte and Rory nods, gently passing her into his arms.

"Hey," Jess says softly to her. Charlotte stares up at him and then her eyes flutter closed.

"She's beautiful," Jess says. "Not that I'm surprised you had a beautiful baby."

"Why, thank you."

"And smart too."

"You know she can't read yet."

"She's going to be smart."

Rory doesn't argue and Jess adds, "She's twice the size since I last saw her."

"And twice as loud," Rory says ruefully. Jess chuckles but Rory's smile is faint and he pauses.

"Hey - how about we go sit somewhere warmer? I'm freezing my butt off, not to mention other things."

"Watch it mister, you're talking in front of a baby," Rory scolds but she's grinning. "Me too."

They head back to the house, leaving the car. "It'll drive Taylor crazy," Jess commented. "That's half the joy of Christmas."

It's only when they're back inside, Jess holding Charlotte as Rory puts on a pot of coffee, that she starts to feel shy. She hasn't seen Jess since summer, when Charlotte was just a few weeks old. He was there when she was born too, waiting outside. Lorelai was in with her, holding her hand, and Jess waited with Luke and Emily. Rory was the one to tell him. It's a girl, she said, her voice tired with pain. She was elated and exhausted and couldn't believe it was real, but she asked to tell Jess. She remembers the smile lighting up his face, replacing the concern which had been there before. Rory let him hold her, her nameless little daughter, and she'd never seen such a gentle look on his face before. He asked if she had a name yet and Rory said no, just baby Gilmore girl. You're amazing, he'd said, sitting beside her. You did it. And then Logan arrived and Jess left them alone.

Logan asked if she was okay. I'm fine, she said automatically and had laughed at herself. I just had a baby. I feel like I've been run over. Logan had taken her hand but Rory pushed the baby into his arms. Look, she's a girl. Did you think she would be? Logan said he hadn't imagined anything at all, piercing Rory's heart with pain. He'd brought a giant bear which he put on the chair, and walked around the room with the baby in his arms, looking terrified the entire time. She's so small. They made an arrangement - he'd see her whenever Logan had work in the states, and figure the rest out later. No, Odette didn't know. No, he didn't want to tell her. It's fine as it is.  Rory named their baby Charlotte Lorelai and he said it was pretty.  Then he went back to London, and it was Rory and Charlotte alone.

The first three weeks of Charlotte's life are a blur, but Rory remembers Jess coming to visit. She was staying with Lorelai for a little while, getting used to things, and Jess came for a few days while he had a thing in Hartford. He brought Charlotte baby books, gave her a bath and changed her diaper. He said again how he highly approved of the name choice, after Charlotte Brontë and her mother, and asked Rory how she was. Fine, she'd said. Because that was what you had to say.

"I think the coffee's done," Jess says, making her jump. "Need a hand?"

"Oh - thanks." Rory takes Charlotte from him, watching Jess pick out two cups and pouring the drinks. They go and sit down and Rory gently places Charlotte in her basket. She doesn't sleep but lies still, uncomplaining, and Rory releases her breath.

"So how are you?" Jess asks and Rory opens her mouth to give the standard response, but then says, "Exhausted."

"I bet."

"It's been so hard," Rory says and Jess frowns sympathetically.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rory says quietly. "No one tells you what having a baby is really like. I love her - I love her so much it's insane, but it's so hard. Sometimes -"

She stops herself and Jess says, "What?"

"Sometimes I think I did the wrong thing," Rory says hesitantly. "But she's my girl. I love her. Even as I think it, I don't."

"What does Lorelai say?"

"I haven't told Mom. If I tell her, she'll worry and want me to move here, and I don't want to. I want to try New York first, at least for now."

"Are you doing okay?" Jess asks seriously and Rory nods.

"Yeah, it's just - some days are harder than others. And it's been hard today. I mean, I'm happy, it's Christmas, but it's not - I guess it's not how I imagined. Logan said he'd call, but he hasn't."

"Do you want him to?"

"I want him to for her," Rory says. "He calls now and then and said it still doesn't feel real to him, that he has a kid."

"That sucks," Jess says and Rory nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"He loves her. He's still in shock over it, I guess."

Jess looks like he has more to say, but simply sips his drink. They finish their coffee in silence and Rory says,

"Should I wake Mom and Luke?"

"No, keep it a surprise, or whatever," Jess says. "I'm beat. Had a signing yesterday."

"Lots of adoring fans?"

"Just a few," Jess grins. "How's your writing going?"

"It's not," Rory admits. "I've had no time since she's been born. I finished my first draft right before I went into labour. It was so funny, it was like she knew I was done."

Jess laughs and asks, "Can I read it?"

"Sure," Rory says, after a pause. "It's still on my desk, in my old room. It feels like forever ago that I looked at it."

"Is it okay if I add thoughts?"

"What kind of thoughts?"

"I don't know yet, Gilmore," Jess says maddeningly. "Whatever thoughts I have."

"Add away," Rory says, amused. "It's pretty messy right now."

"Thanks," Jess says and Rory smiles. Charlotte whimpers a little and Rory picks her up.

"She needs to get to sleep."

"She's not the only one," Jess agrees. "Night, Rory."

"Night, Jess."

Rory puts Charlotte back in her cradle and gets back into bed. She's just thinking that drinking coffee may have been foolish when she falls asleep.

Rory and Charlotte are woken the next morning by Lorelai waving candy canes in the air and two stuffed stockings.

"Merry Christmas, guys! And guess who made it last night after all, besides Santa?"

The morning is spent in their pyjamas, unwrapping gifts. Charlotte is enchanted by the presents and happiness around her, letting out excited burbles and grabbing at the torn paper.

"Kid has got tons of gifts and she's more interested in the box," Rory says, shaking her head, and Lorelai laughs.

"Welcome to having a kid!"

Emily calls, thanking them for their gifts.  She reminds Lorelai of the time she’s agreed to visit next week and asks Rory pointedly how Logan is.  Rory gives general answers,deliberately vague, and weakly pushes the phone against Charlotte’s cheek.  Her daughter makes babbling sounds until Rory takes it back, sheepishly wishing her grandmother a merry Christmas and new pictures soon. They get dressed for lunch, Rory putting Charlotte in the Santa outfit Lorelai sewed the week before. Everyone exclaims, snapping pictures, until it all gets overwhelming for Charlotte and she starts crying. They take her for a walk to calm her down, Jess staying behind to catch up on some notes and offering to help Luke prepare dinner. Lorelai and Rory are out for more than an hour, bumping into Lane and her boys and helping them build a snowman. Rory is already exhausted when they get back, despite it still being early, and is envious of Charlotte as she puts her down for a nap. She's considering napping too but is wide awake as her phone chimes. It's Logan.

"I'll be right back," Rory says, seeing her mother in the hall. She slips out and takes a deep breath before saying, "Hi."

"Hey. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah. Merry Christmas."

There's a long pause and then Logan asks,

"You guys okay?"

"Charlotte's fine," Rory says frostily. "We both are."

"I sent her some stuff," Logan says. "It'll be there soon...I sent toys and a dress."

"Thanks."

"I hope she likes it," Logan says. He sounds sad and Rory asks, "Do you want me to send you pictures? I took a ton of Charlotte today."

"Send them later," Logan says and Rory bites her lip. For a moment she's furious but instead says, "Are you having a good day?"

"It's quiet," Logan says. "How about you?"

"The opposite."

"Right."

There's another awkward silence and then Rory says, "You know, it's been a year, Logan. Since I told you."

"I remember," Logan says. "I couldn't believe it."

Neither of them could, Rory thinks.  She thinks back to sitting on his couch, the Christmas tree in the corner and the smell making her sick.  It almost seemed mocking as she saw the expression on Logan’s face. He kept asking her over and over, are you sure? Rory wanted to say she wasn’t.  It was the week before Christmas and it almost felt like a dream.

"Can you believe it now?" Rory asks, feeling Logan pause across the miles.

"She's here."

"Yes, but you're not."

"Do you want me to be?" Logan asks and Rory squeezes her eyes shut.

"No. That's not what I mean." She pauses and then asks, "Do you?"

"I'm married now," Logan says simply. "You said it was over."

"It is," Rory agrees. "You knew it would be. Nothing's changed."

Logan is quiet, but doesn't challenge her. Rory is trying to find more words when Logan says,

"I have to go. We're seeing Odette's family soon."

"Oh. Okay."

"Give Charlotte a kiss from me," Logan says quickly. "See you, Rory."

"Yeah. See you."

They hang up. Rory turns back and bumps into Lorelai, who's waiting by the door.

"Everything okay, sweets?" she asks. Rory is going to say yes, of course, but then suddenly she's crying, holding her mother tightly. All she's aware of is Lorelai stroking her hair and murmuring reassurance and finally Rory breaks away, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Man, I'm crying at Christmas, that's not allowed."

"What is it, Rory?"

"I messed up," Rory says, starting to feel herself cry again. "I've failed her."

"Rory. No."

"It's Christmas and her dad keeps her secret."

"Sometimes it's harder, on holidays," Lorelai says gently. She leads Rory to the porch swing where they sit, brushing the snow off the cushions. "I'd take you to Mom and Dad's and Christopher would be there, or he wouldn't, and it would be so hard, either way. They'd make me feel awful about not being married to Chris. Every year it was the same. Half the time we'd have a big fight."

"I remember," Rory says, sniffling, and Lorelai says, "There's no rule that you have to be happy."

"Mom," Rory says, looking up. "It's been hard. Really hard."

"I know," Lorelai says gently and Rory goes on, "Half the time I don't know what I'm doing. And I feel guilty and afraid and that it's never enough."

She starts crying again and Lorelai looks like she might cry herself.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Rory, my job is to worry about you!"

"But I don't want to feel like I can't do it," Rory says, letting Lorelai hold her. "You did it, and you were twice as young as me."

"I did it, but I had help. I was home the first year you were born, and then Mia took me in. And yes, I did most of the rest alone and I'm proud of myself, but it was hard, and it was lonely."

"But you still did it."

"And you're doing it too," Lorelai says, looking into Rory's eyes. "It's okay to find it hard. It's okay to ask for help. I am always here for you."

"I know," Rory says. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, angel. Just talk to me. Talk to me and keep loving that little girl as much as you do."

"No question on that," Rory says, managing to smile, and Lorelai squeezes her hand.

"Ready to go inside?"

They head back in and Rory hears a crying from the bedroom. She turns to go in and then stops in surprise. Jess has got there first and has lifted Charlotte up, kissing her cheeks.

"There's a girl," he says gently. "Beautiful girl."

Rory watches him for a moment, heart full, when Jess sees her and stops.

"Sorry," he says shyly. "She was crying, so -"

"It's fine," Rory says, going in. "Thanks."

Charlotte is drifting back into sleep. Rory takes her back, gently placing her into the cradle, when her eyes catch the manuscript on the desk. There's a pen on top and Rory goes over to it, seeing notes studded all over it.

"I put thoughts in the margins," Jess said sheepishly. "Had a lot to say."

"Good or bad?" Rory's tone is light but she feels embarrassed, as if she's been caught without any clothes on, and Jess insists,

"Good. It's so good, Rory."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not, I swear," he promises. "Although..."

"What?" Rory asks, heart thudding and then laughing as Jess says,

"It did not happen like that, me asking you to bail."

"Of course it did."

"I was not trying something."

"Jess, come on. We were seventeen."

"I was only trying to impress you," Jess says and they both laugh. "Maybe I was hoping for something else too.  But I didn't get my black eye how you thought."

"How did you get it?"

"Come on, I'll tell you. Let's take a walk."

They walk into the hall, telling Luke they're just getting some air, and then step out. It's earlier than the night before but still quiet everywhere.

"I guess everyone's busy," Rory says. They walk silently down towards the lake, without talking, and their breath comes out in clouds.

"Still my favourite place in Stars Hollow," Jess says. "And this is where it happened."

"Luke pushing you in?"

"And getting my black eye. It was a swan."

"Excuse me?"

"It beaked me, right in the eye. It's a vicious bird!"

Rory looks at him and then laughs and laughs, Jess shaking his head, and finally Rory says,

"Well, as long as we're telling things, I devil egged your car."

"I knew it," Jess says, rolling his eyes. "That's not exactly a secret."

"Guess we were both hoodlums," Rory chuckles. "Man, it all feels like forever ago."

"I think there's still a little hoodlum in us," Jess says, smiling. "Beneath growing up."

Rory nods, but she feels sad, suddenly, and then Jess takes her hand.

"Hey," he says, looking into her eyes. "It'll be okay."

"I know," Rory says quietly. "Thanks."

He squeezes her hand, using his other to brush the hair out of her eyes and Rory steps closer to him. A thrill is in her, unannounced, and Jess breaks their silence by saying weakly, "This is the part in the movie where the guy lifts out the mistletoe."

"No mistletoe?" Rory guesses and he nods. "No mistletoe."

"Doesn't matter," Rory breathes, and she is leaning forward, and suddenly she and Jess are kissing, out on the lake on Christmas Day. They kiss, soft then heavy, and then Jess steps back and says, "I didn't plan that. I'm sorry."

"Me either. I - don't be sorry."

"I wasn't going to kiss you," Jess says and Rory nods. "I know. It's okay."

"It's okay?" Jess asks and Rory smiles. She's dazed, the day is shining, and says,

"Yes, it is."

"I kissed you," Jess says. He sounds in shock and Rory says, "I kissed you too."

They walk back silently, glancing at each other now and then. Rory doesn't know what it means, but for now it's Christmas. Jess has to drive back anyway. He hugs Luke, takes another opportunity to call Lorelai his aunt, and gives Charlotte an extra cuddle and kiss. He kisses Rory on the cheek this time, nodding, and they wave goodbye as he drives.

"What was that all about?" Lorelai asks and Rory tries not to blush.

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"I swear..."

Lorelai looks disbelieving but she goes to pick out more movies for tonight. Rory picks up the set of books Jess bought for Charlotte and takes them into the room. She puts them on the desk next to the manuscript and then stops. There's a note on top which wasn't there before, and she reads,

Rory,

You don't think you can do it but you can. You can do anything. This writing shows more than I knew was there. I always knew you could do it. Charlotte is lucky to have a mom like you. If you ever want to talk to me, about anything, I'm here for you. Always. I really didn't plan on kissing you, but I'm not sorry we did. If you don't want to do anything though, I understand. I'm leaving now but if you want to talk to me, you can call. You know that.

Merry Christmas, Rory.

Jess.

Rory reads the note again and again, her heart thudding. The thrill is back, an excitement she hasn't felt in months. She doesn't know what it means, but for now it doesn't matter. She pushes aside the curtain, opens the window and breathes in the mystery of the Christmas night.

Note: The book Rory references is ‘Into the Forest’ by Jean Hegland

[danithebookaholic-blog]

Audio Book Extra

 Talking as Fast as I Can: From Gilmore Girls to Gilmore Girls (And Everything in Between)

by Lauren Graham, Narrated by Lauren Graham

I personally love audio books. They’re a great addition for the busy person who doesn’t always have time to sit down and read. I discovered the awesome versatility of audio books when I first got into running a few years ago. I was terrible about getting into my head and would discourage myself easily while running and nothing seemed to help. I almost gave up running completely until I decided to give audio books a try. Best. Decision. Ever.

When I first started listening to audio books I checked them out from my local library. Since I didn’t know if this was going to work for me, I didn’t want to spend a lot of money on an audio book to only listen to the first few chapters and decide it wasn’t right for me, because audio books are expensive! (By the way, if you have some that you’re looking to get rid of, please, donate them to your local library. Most libraries have an audio section and some even have an audio section on their website so you can download them directly to your phone or computer.)

Being the bookworm that I am, I went to the library so I would still have the pleasure of looking through the books, and to get the full fledge experience of the smell. There is no better smell than a book! Well, except maybe babies. 😊

Obviously, I found that audio books work great for me. Not only to run half marathons to, but to listen to on all the car trips I take, cleaning the house and mowing the lawn. Anything that is mundane and boring can be spiced up with a good audio book! While in the beginning I went to the library to obtain my audio books, I found that it added to the hassle: not only would I have to make time to go to the library (which at the time had very inconvenient hours and no parking since it was in downtown Morgantown), but then once I got the book home I would then have to download it onto my computer just to then download it onto my phone (because who has a Walkman these days?! Anyone?). It just became a big hassle. So, I finally bit the bullet and signed up for Audible, which, surprisingly, is very reasonable.

Several audio books into my subscription with Audible, I came across the face of one of my favorite actors: Lauren Graham. I knew that if the book was not only written by her, but also read by her, it was going to be fabulous! And so, Talking as Fast as I Can: From Gilmore Girls to Gilmore Girls (And Everything in Between) was the next purchase I made with Audible, and what a great purchase it was!

Some History:

Talking as Fast as I Can (published in 2016) is Lauren Graham’s second book, her first being Someday, Someday, Maybe (published in 2013, and one that I hope to get to someday, someday, definitely!) Talking as Fast as I Can is a memoir on Lauren’s life of acting with a special emphasis on her role playing Lorelai Gilmore on Gilmore Girls. (FYI, HUGE Gilmore Girls fan sitting right here!!!) Lauren not only wrote Talking as Fast as I Can, but for the audio book edition of it she narrates it too, which makes it even better!

The Synopsis:

Talking as Fast as I Can begins with Lauren Graham introducing herself and her life to those who maybe don’t know her, and reintroducing herself and catching up like old friends with those who do, or who at least feel like they do. (I’m one of the latter, in case you haven't noticed.) She tells you right off that this book is about her reminiscing about her past and how she got to where she is today and how wonderful it was to play Lorelai Gilmore not only the first time, but getting to come back to play her again. (Ooo! I'm so giddy right now!)

She continues with all her quirky stories of playing Dolly Parton in her junior high school play, skipping a grade in school and how it made her drive illegally later. She talks about Hollywood’s diet secrets (but don't tell anyone that she told you about them!), and how going out with a guy that you meet at an award show probably isn’t the best way to start a relationship.

Most of the second half of Talking as Fast as I Can is about Lauren’s role as Lorelai Gilmore. She has a Gilmore Girl marathon of her own and talks about all the things she remembers and explains why things were the way they we’re in certain episodes—the color of her eye shadow, how big her hair is, and how short her skirts are. She talks about the feelings she and the rest of the crew had when they were filming the last episode (not knowing it was the last episode), and what should have been done differently now knowing that it was the end.

When Gilmore Girls was revised by Netflix, she was ecstatic to get to play Lorelai once more. And a question that she has from here on out is, “This ending is almost not like an ending; it’s like a cliff hanger, right? Am I right?!” And no one seems as bothered about it as she does (well, except me and—I’m sure—all other Gilmore Girl fans out there who have seen it!) This time around, Lauren decided to keep a journal throughout her filming of the reboot of Gilmore Girls and she "reads" directly from it to conclude Talking as Fast as I Can.

The Wrap-Up & Review:

Not going to lie, I cried.

A lot.

Multiple times.

I cried from laughing so hard that I couldn’t stand up straight. And I cried because my heart was breaking from Gilmore Girls ending once again (for a third time to me). I loved Lauren in Parenthood and have loved her in just about everything else she’s ever been in, but Gilmore Girls holds a very special place in my heart. I grew up and connected in so many ways with Rory Gilmore (played by Alexis Bledel), that I’m positive that Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino—the writers of Gilmore Girls—followed me around and wrote the part of Rory based off my life. Well, except the part where she sleeps with her married ex-boyfriend. I never did that!

I was in the middle of moving when I listened to this book, and a good chunk of it was listened to on the 4-hour car trip to my new home. When Lauren talks about that first (and last time) that she says her famous line, “I smell snow,” I lost it. I started crying so hard that I had to pull over and cry it out for a few minutes. I'm sure Gandalf (my dog), thought I was crazy. The meaning behind that line is so powerful (and something I have always said, too) that it was needed at that time in my life. Good things always come to Lorelai when she gets whiff of that first snow of the year, and I took it as a sign that this move was going to be a good thing, something that hasn’t always been the case with previous moves for me.

Fast paced and witty just like the characters Lauren plays, this book will have you rolling on the floor laughing and bawling your eyes out all within a couple pages of each other. While most of it may not be the best book for those who aren’t Gilmore Girl fans, it is hilarious with some life advice thrown in that’s great for everyone. Lauren tells the story of her life with such enthusiasm and such a fast pace babble that it’s hard to imagine anyone not liking her. And this book does the same thing.

I’m sure that physically reading the book is great in its own way, but I would highly recommend listening to this one to get the whole feel of how Lauren acts and thinks (not to mention the singing!) For anyone who was a fan of Lorelai Gilmore or Sarah Braverman, (Lauren’s character on Parenthood), this book is a must read. And even if you weren’t I think you’ll still find this book full of laughs and good advice.

 From one wine-loving bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

  Love this book? Check out Let’s Pretend this Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir) by Jenny Lawson.

Pair it with: Molinari Private Reserve’s Wine Infused Coffee.

While it’s not exactly wine (and no, you won’t get drunk while drinking it) it’s exactly what the Gilmore Girls would drink if they had to drink wine.  Forget about the alcohol, they’re all about the caffeine!  You can get yours here.

Start a conversation: What makes you listen to an audio book? What’s your favorite genre to listen to?

 Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.