"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Lorelai Gilmore stared deeply into her daughter's eyes across the table.

"No," Rory admitted. "But it feels like the only choice I can live with."

"Are you sure you've thought this through? The sleepless nights? The stretchmarks? The swollen feet? Not having soft cheese, sushi or—worst of all—caffeinated coffee?"

"Yes. I've thought all this through." Rory looked down at the new decaffeinated tea she recently switched to.

For the first time in a while, a silence fell between the two of them.

Lorelai imagined Rory's tiny frame with a baby bump. She imagined her carrying groceries. Alone. Navigating the first trimester. Alone. Seeing the shape of her baby for the first time. Alone. Lorelai's shoulders sagged with guilt.

"You know, just because I did it alone, doesn't mean you have to—"

"No, Mom. I want to. I feel like my whole life I've been floating. But now, it's like I finally have something that's grounding me." Rory smiled reaching out her hand to her mother. "I know it's not going to be easy, but I know I can do it because you did."

Both of the Gilmore Girls looked at each other with tears in their eyes.

"Okay, kid," Lorelai said taking a shaky breath. "You know Luke and I will be behind you. One hundred percent."

Rory came back to the present, noticing the road sign signaling twenty-five miles to Boston. For the past month every Thursday she closed the Stars Hollow Gazette early, packed a thermos of tea and her manuscript and made the drive to Boston.

She managed to finish the first draft of the memoir by mid-November, in between the morning sickness and re-working the gazette to be an actual newspaper (still with seasonal poems), and was now in full editor mode. She was glad her grandmother never came to the old house anymore, if she did Rory was sure she'd be committed at this point. Richard's study was now lined with pages and pages of the book marked taped to the walls so she could see it. The full picture. The whole story that started even before she arrived.

She had meticulously examined every fight, every chance of fate, every mistake from the past three generations, but still felt like something was missing. The ending didn't feel complete. She felt like she had Gabby Douglass-ed the entire thing until the end, it was a landing she just couldn't stick.

As she pulled into the parking garage, she let out a heavy sigh and glanced at the thick manuscript in the passenger seat her mother named, "Stan." When Lorelai asked how the writing was going, she commonly asked, "So, how's Stan?" probably as a way to not think about how Stan was actually her entire life on page.

Rory picked up her bag (and Stan) and made her way to the same small coffee shop on the corner. She opened the door and again, he was waiting at the table in the window. Even after a month of meetings, she was still surprised by his punctuality.

"I swear, you torture me by choosing a place that smells like nothing but coffee." Rory inhaled deeply, setting her bag in the empty chair and Stan on the table.

"You say that every time but refuse to pick another place." Jess laughed as Rory took the seat across from him.

"I like their chocolate cake! Once you promise to bring me their chocolate cake to another establishment, we will say adios to this place."

"And we are back where we always table that argument." Jess smiled, causing Rory to smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Pregnant," she moved her jacket open wider to show the newly formed bump that seemed to sprout overnight.

"Wow, yeah I hear those things tend to stay in for up to nine months."

Rory laughed. It was absurdly easy for her to talk with Jess. He still had had his caustic quips but had matured to be a lot like Luke to Jess' probable dismay.

Once she had finished the first draft, he was the first person she sent it to for notes. Most of her literary contacts had journalism backgrounds, a few wrote personal essays, but she needed someone who knew stories. Specifically, someone who knew her story. Who knew her mom. Who could objectively tell her when her voice wandered or when the story hit a lull. Jess was the perfect editor for this project.

"So, I went through chapter nine like you said and added in more descriptions on The Dragon Fly Inn, took out the story about Kirk, and moved part of it over to chapter ten."

"Good, I also was looking at chapter twenty, and thought maybe you should end it with the same sentence you started it with." Jess nodded, pulling out his own copy of Stan. Stan II.

"Like a Jewel song?" She asked.

"Excuse me?" Jess's forehead wrinkled as he squinted his eyes in thought.

"Jewel's songs in the 90s always started and ended with the same line."

"I must have missed that during my Lilith Fair phase."

The two continued to pour over their manuscripts, referring to pages, making notes, adding post-its. Rory enjoyed the banter they shared and the feeling of excitement for her work from another person, someone who wasn't related.

"Have you figured out the ending yet?" Jess asked, sliding his book closer to him to make room for her order of chocolate cake.

Rory sighed, digging in her fork to the side with more icing.

"No, and it's annoying me. I don't know how to end this."

"Maybe because it's not over," Jess leaned in, pointing towards the baby bump.

"Maybe, but I can't just wait until I give birth to try and get this published." She shook her head, shoveling another piece of cake into her mouth and taking a sip of water. "I have bills, big bills from Yale that I pay to Emily, from moving everywhere, from being stupid and only doing freelance, from flying to-"

Rory shifted in her seat. She had told Jess the Cliff Notes version of Logan. Every time she mentioned him, regardless of who she was talking to, the same face was always made in response. The face similar to Lorelai's when she came home in the first grade and told her of the first kid to ever bully her, Mark Fishman the boy who took Rory's book on the playground then shoved her into the dirt. She was tired of being protected. Tired of seeing that face so often.

"Have you thought about sending what you have out to publishers? You can get an advance and negotiate the deadline." Jess suggested.

"If I do that then they'll assign me an editor on their staff and I don't want that." Rory shook her head. "I just want it to be our thing. Just a little while longer."

Jess leaned back resting more comfortably in his chair, "Alright,"

As the sun began to set and the shop began to close up for the day, Rory stretched and began to pack Stan into her bag, after throwing a mess of crumpled up post-its onto her empty plate. Jess took her plate and their cups to the counter, threw in an extra five for the baristas and thanked them. He stood at the counter looking back at Rory gathering her stuff. He hated this part of the night where they both wen their separate ways. Rory back to her mother's. Jess back to his empty one-bedroom apartment.

"You know I can drive out to Stars Hollow and we can just do this at Luke's?" Jess suggested, holding the door open.

The Christmas lights lining the small side street turned on and Rory breathed in the cold air.

"No, I like making a pilgrimage. It helps me to change the scenery for my editing and be somewhere that's not in the book." She smiled, bundling up more in her larger than normal coat. "Plus, I don't want anyone in town knowing about this until it's finished. I can just imagine Miss Patty and Babbet reading over my shoulders, giving me pointers about how to make it more Harlequin and less Didion."

"Point taken. I'd hate to hear their re-writes on your Dean chapter," Jess laughed and stopped in front of the parking garage. "I'll send you the list of agents I know, so you can start taking a look at them. Carolyn is a shark when it comes to negotiations, but Brian has more contacts."

"Send it to me as a pro-con list?"

"It might not be as thorough as yours, but I'll give it a try."

They lingered in the cold for a second. Jess shifted the weight of his messenger bag. Rory sighed and pushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ears.

"See you next Thursday?" she asked.

"Unless you decide to go the Harlequin route after all." Jess nodded.

"Bye, Jess," Rory leaned in for a hug. She could smell his shampoo, the same since high school only stronger. Probably from more frequent use. She breathed in deeper, hoping he didn't notice.

"See you next week," Jess said, holding her close to him just a second longer.