Rory sat nervously waiting in the lounge for her friend. She had called Paris and insisted that she meet her that night at the Dead Man's Shoe. Paris was not happy about an impromptu trip to New Haven, but after Rory explained that it was very important and refused to tell her why over the phone, she finally agreed.
Rory had a cranberry juice in front of her, running her finger nervously in the condensation on the glass when finally Paris arrived and sat across from her.
"Ok, Gilmore. This better be good." She announced as she signaled to the waiter and ordered a vodka martini. She then turned her sharp eyes on Rory and sighed. "Well shit. You're pregnant."
Rory's eyes opened widely and she just stared at Paris. "What! How did you..."
"You don't do what I do for a living for as long as I have and not develop a sixth sense for this. How far along? 6 weeks?"
"Seven." Rory confirmed.
"Ok. So what's the plan? How can I help?" Paris got down to business.
"I just... I need to know..." Rory answered. "And you won't sugar coat it for me. You're a mom. You'll tell me what it's truly like.
"Options. There are several. First, you can chose to terminate. I can go over the nitty gritty of that with you if you want. It's not pretty, but not as bad as you probably think. Second, you can carry to term and put the baby up for adoption. Several sub-options there. You can do..."
"No," Rory interrupted. "That's not what I meant. I'm going to have this baby. I just need to know... what it's like to be a mom.
"Oh! Wow. Well, um, you want me to tell you? I mean, you know a bunch of moms. Lane has kids, right?" Paris was surprised.
"Yeah, but Lane has pretty much let go of her dreams. She still plays with the band, but she's a mom first. I'm just not sure I could do that without resenting the baby. But you've been able to maintain your career and start a family. I need to know how you did that." Rory explained.
"God, Rory. It's hard, I'll be honest. And I'm not exactly where I wanted to be in my career. If anyone had told me that I'd be running a fertility practice ten years ago, I would have laughed at them. But after med school and law school, Doyle and I wanted to start a family. So we tried. And a year later we found ourselves in a crappy fertility clinic with a bumbling idiot who just kept telling me that I just needed to relax and I'd get pregnant." Paris shook her head. "Cause nothing makes it harder to relax than being told to relax. So I started researching. And turns out that it was interesting, and I could help people have babies. And I was able to conceive." Paris shrugged.
"I had no idea." Rory cringed "I'm sorry if I'm bringing up bad memories."
"No, that part is all on my practice video online. It's marketing. But what I can tell you is that after we had the kids, I wasn't able to go back into my surgical residency. I lost momentum. And I was earning too much to go back to a new specialty. It was ... kinda a trap. Once you have kids, you need stuff. Nannies. Pediatricians. Or at least you think you do. Anyway, yeah. It's hard."
Rory scrubbed a hand over her face and sat back in her chair, slumping. "That's what I'm afraid of. I have to find a job to support this child, and then what? I'll be stuck. I won't ever be able to travel the way I want for work. I won't be able to be a foreign correspondent. I don't know if I will resent this child. I can't figure out how to balance it. I still want my career, Paris."
Paris frowned. "Rory, you've been jumping around from assignment to assignment for ten years. You've had dozens of opportunities to travel. You've written excellent pieces for a host of different papers and magazines. But you haven't capitalized on any of those opportunities to get the career you want. You can't be Christiane Amanpour. Hell, even Christiane Amanpour isn't the image of her that you have in your head. You need to figure out how to be satisfied in being Rory Gilmore."
Rory was shocked. "I don't think you understand, Paris. I just need ... I don't know. But I don't feel like I'm finished yet. I still want to achieve my goals."
"Have you stopped to consider if your goals are realistic, Rory? I mean really- journalism today isn't what it was ten years ago. It online, its instant news. It's fluffier. More people are interested in what Kim and Kanye are doing than what's happening in Africa. And you look down on that sort of news. You haven't really paid your dues, so to speak." Paris had become sharp. "It may be that what you want doesn't exist anymore. There are a handful of excellent journalists left, and they didn't start out with the advantages we did. I'm an excellent ob/gyn. But I won't ever be the best cardio/thoracic surgeon. And that's ok. I still improve the quality of my patients lives. And I've reconciled myself to that, even if sometimes I wonder what if. But ending up somewhere unexpected isn't a failure. It just a new reality. And I think you need to give yourself a reality check."
Rory had flushed with indignation while Paris was speaking, and was about to snap back at her when Paris continued.
"But if I had stayed on that path, gone forward with my surgical residency, I wouldn't have my kids. I might have kids, but not these ones. And no one can tell you how being a mom makes you feel. Because it's different for everyone. I can just tell you this - The best part of my day, every day, as I'm going to bed, I stop and look in on the kids in their rooms. And the feeling I get when I stop and look at them at night. Better than anything. And I wouldn't trade it for all the accolades in the world. And you know how competitive I am."
Rory's jaw snapped shut. She looked at Paris, who was clearly telling her the truth- Paris certainly wasn't one to say anything other than exactly what she thought.
"Thanks, Paris. I think that helped. "
"Anytime Rory. So. You're having a baby." Paris smirked. "Does Paul know yet? Has he proposed?" She laughed as she finished her drink and signaled to the waiter for another round.
"Ummm. It's not Paul's." Rory mumbled. I haven't told the father yet. It's complicated. "
Paris raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Oh. Sorry. I just assumed. You and Paul?"
"Broke up. But we haven't seen each other in months. It had just run its course. We were never meant to go the long haul. He was nice enough but no fireworks. " Rory gazed off into space.
"You should tell him then." Paris said firmly.
"Tell Paul what?" Rory asked puzzled
"Don't be obtuse. Not Paul. Him. Your frat boy. He should know that you are still in love with him. " Paris fired off.
"What? I'm not ..."
"Yes, you are. You've always been in love with him. We both know it. I've know you since we were both 16. I've seen you with Dean, with that broody guy, what's his name Jeff?" Paris snapped.
"Jess" Rory supplied
"Right, Jess. Anyway, you've never been as happy as you were when you were with him. Call Logan. Tell him how you feel." Paris declared
"It's complicated." Rory replied
"Funny, that's the exact same thing you said about the father. " Paris replied, picking up her fresh drink.
