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epilogue: that's life

a/n:

disclaimer — i haven't been to therapy in years, so the entire session between rory and doctor brown is based on things i've read, watched, and insight from my wonderful friend. i don't know if it's truly accurate, and everyone has a different experience in therapy.

tw(s) -- heavy topics discussed

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LORELEI AVERMAN, THIRTY-TWO, FIDGETS IN HER SEAT. The ever-stereotypical couch is comfortable, the cushions not too pliable but not too stiff and made out of a fabric that's relatively soft to the touch. It's very warm here, too, and it smells a little strongly of incense or oils or whatever has been put in the air to make people like her feel calm. None of this is what bothers her, though, because it's been like this every time she's come here. Her problem—— or rather, lack thereof—— lies in the woman sitting across from her.

Dr. Jennifer Brown has been her therapist for a few years now, and even if she was in therapy for years before her, there's something different about this visit.

Last week she'd dropped a pretty big bombshell, and she isn't sure how to go about it.

"So." The older woman speaks, voice modulated and steady. "Last week you mentioned that you've got a new favorite thing at the museum? You completely glossed over it because you remembered an interaction with your nasty coworker, but I'd like to know about it—— if you're willing."

The doctor hardly ever starts the conversation, but she can probably sense it's necessary today.

After rejoining that last game against the varsity team all those years ago, Rory made the executive decision to let her cousins, as they were much older, run the company in place of her, making her free to pursue whatever she wanted. Now, she's a curator in a museum not too far from her house, her duties lying mostly in curating the exhibits, which exposes her to a whole lot of interesting things. The title of 'favorite' bounces around a lot as time goes on, especially since things were ever-changing.

As of late, it belongs to a painting.

"It's a painting—— recently brought in." She doesn't know why she's suddenly clamming up. Normally it's like diarrhea of the mouth when it comes to sessions with Jen.

Jennifer nods, waiting patiently.

"It's this huge, dull thing. I've got no clue where or when it's from—— never bothered to ask or to read the little thingy—— but I keep wandering back to it." Rory gestures with her hands as she speaks. "It's of a peasant woman. She's sitting on a bed, leaning on her side over a baby—— I think it's hers. The baby is curled up in the sheets and resting back on a pillow, and it's playing with her necklace..."

"Sounds like a beautiful painting."

"It is. Don't get me wrong. It's just——there's something really captivating about the way she looks at her baby. Like, I know that art is open to interpretation or whatever, but she's so enamored with her kid."

"And that makes you feel...?"

"Strange?"

"And?"

"Kinda jealous. My mother never looked at me like that—— in fact, you can see that she hated me in pictures."

There's a subtle shift of emotion in Jennifer's eyes, one that she knows that Rory's picked up on.

"What else do you feel?"

Feeling like she's under a microscope, she admits honestly. "Terrified."

"Why does it scare you, Rory?" The blonde tilts her head to the side, obviously getting the response that she was looking for.

What Rory wouldn't give to be able to peek into her therapist's mind and figure out how it worked, how she was always twelve steps ahead.

"Because it's an intense amount of affection, y'know. The way that mothers care for their children. It's just... what if I... can't... treat my baby like that."

Her words weigh heavy in the following silence—— or, at least, they do for her—— and one of her hands shifts to her stomach.

Well into her second trimester, Rory's body has yet to really swell the way all the books say it's supposed to. And, while that adds to her concerns, it's also how she's been able to really hide her pregnancy from people she isn't ready to tell—— including Jennifer, who only found out last week.

"Why are you terrified that you won't be able to love your baby, Rory?"

"It's not that." She sighs. "I don't think I'm not going to love them—— I'm terrified that I'm going to be a bad parent regardless."

The woman lets Rory talk, deep in thought.

"I mean, for instance, I think I've already screwed them up. My OB says that my baby is fine, that all pregnant people just carry differently and first pregnancies are different, but what if it's not okay? What if my baby's going to have three heads? What if they have nine fingers and three toes? What if they're the spawn of Satan? I mean, you've heard plenty about my parents—— what if I passed down all of that messed up stuff?"

"You said it yourself that professionals are telling you that your baby is fine." Jennifer leans toward her as she talks. "And with your parents—— if their evil was genetic, wouldn't you be evil too?"

"...yeah."

"And are you a bad person?"

"I don't think so—— I sure hope not."

"Bad people don't worry about being bad, Rory."

Rory lets the words echo through her mind for a moment. "But what if I can't keep them safe?"

"You're thinking irrationally." She says bluntly, but not unkindly. "Who—— or what—— do you think is going to make your baby unsafe? Is your house a dangerous environment?"

"No." Rory defends, probably a little too quickly. "No. I mean, the dog can get a little rowdy sometimes, but ever since he lost his eye he's just been trying to figure stuff out and he's just as excited about this pregnancy as my sister. The only thing really dangerous is the spiders——but Les is always getting them for me anyway."

For whatever reason, their house is like a beacon for the eight-legged freaks, but her husband, despite their mutual fear, has always been good about it.

"Do you like that? When you don't have to kill the spiders, I mean."

"Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?"

"How about you answer my question first?"

"The legs freak me out, I guess. When I was a kid I always had to rely on myself to do stuff, so it's nice to know that he's got me. I know it sounds stupid-"

"It doesn't sound anything, Rory." Again, blunt but not mean. "When you were a kid, you always had to rely on yourself, but now you have someone to rely on. Someone to make you feel like you're safe like your house is safe."

"Huh. Never thought of it like that...You're not gonna, like, spin this into some freaky Freudian thing, are you?"

Jennifer laughs without meaning to. "No."

Rory inclines her head.

"Good. 'Cause I assure you, I don't want to fuck my dad."

The blonde doesn't scold her—— barely even reacts to her strong language.

"So is it your parents then?"

"Huh?"

"You're not afraid of your house being unsafe or Les being unsafe, so I'm asking you if it's your parents that you still fear."

Rory sighs. Her parents are always a touchy subject, especially now that she's older and she's gotten help and she knows better. But, even then, therapy isn't a magical, be-all-end-all cure for everything wrong.

"I don't know..."

She hasn't seen her mother since the executing of the will back in ninety-six, when she was sixteen. Her father, on the other hand, unfortunately, hasn't faded into his irrelevancy and occasionally pops back into her life——most times she ignores him, but the most recent time she shelled out some money to help him bury his sister.

"No. I don't fear them." She decides. "They're completely out of my life. Mutually disowned. They don't get to see my kid—— they'll never get to see my kid."

Rory says it so strongly that it almost makes Jennifer smile.

"Do you want to know what I really think?"

"Aren't you just going to tell me anyway?" She cringes slightly when her therapist gives her a look, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. Please, I want to know what you think."

"You're going to be a wonderful parent, Lorelei. The fact that you're running through loopholes of scenarios about this baby tells me that you're already a parent. Your baby isn't even born yet, but they are so loved."

Tears welling up in her eyes, Rory nods.

"I'm afraid that's all our time for today, but I want you to remember what I said, okay?" Both women stand at the same time. "You're going to a party this weekend, aren't you?"

"A reunion. My, uh, old hockey team has one every year."

Connie and Guy were throwing it at their house this year, and she's glad it fell during the summer because of the warm weather. What she's not glad about, though, is the fact that she still hasn't figured out how she's going to break the news to her friends.

"Alright. Have fun."

"I will."

Jennifer waits for her to leave to start writing her notes.

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Rory, twenty weeks pregnant, stands barefoot in the kitchen of the home she shares with her husband. Wearing a pair of Les' sweatpants and a tank top—— one that fits over her bump strangely—— she stares at the ingredients on the counter with her face scrunched in confusion. Her mother-in-law's recipe for, whatever this is supposed to be, recipe calls for rice, crushed pineapple, miniature marshmallows, cool whip, and maraschino cherries. Now, the steps are simple enough to follow, but the mere thought of how this stuff could go together nearly makes her nauseous.

(Though, that might be the placenta pumping her full of angry hormones.)

She eyes the clock on the wall. Les'll be home any minute.

"Alright then. Connie is so lucky I love her." She groans, mumbling to the dog.

Johnny, their (now) one-eyed golden retriever rescue named after the one and only Johnny Lawrence, only dignifies her words with a whine. He equates her being in the kitchen with him being fed, so she's sure that the lack of kibble thus far is sincerely disappointing to him.

"You'll get some stuff eventually." She promises loosely.

Still unused to living somewhere where she can just exist in the house and not having to spend every waking moment holed up in her room, she often talks to herself (and the dog) or hums to fill any of the silences. It's not that she's uncomfortable, it's just that she was so uncomfortable for so long that she's still adjusting to the comfort, and she doesn't have to push herself through the process anymore. She won't have to ever again.

Just as Rory's finished washing the rice and putting it on the burner, the front door to the house opens and the dog goes running.

"Honey, I'm home!" Les calls in a sing-song voice, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Hi, buddy. Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

"In the kitchen!"

She can hear him humming (and smell the fast food he brought home) before she sees him. Her back turned to the door, she surprisingly doesn't jump out of her skin when his cold hands find themselves around her waist.

"Hey, Les." She hums, squirming a bit when he starts to kiss her neck.

"Hey, baby." He smiles. "I got you food."

Rory's worst craving has probably been the burger and slushee combo that the McDonalds near their house sells. Of course, she doesn't eat it often- she's been trying to take the best possible care of her baby, after all- but it's a nice treat now and then.

Les has had the order memorized this whole time. The thought makes her weepy.

"Thank you." Rory says genuinely, turning to look over her shoulder so she can kiss her husband.

He leans into the kiss, still humming that song as he sways them both a bit. (You're) Having My Baby by Paul Anka, she thinks.

"Just set it on the counter." She continues when she pulls away. "I have to make this salad for the barbecue."

Les snorts softly, kissing the hollow spot behind her ear. "How 'bout you just sit your pretty self down over there and eat and let me make the food?"

"You'd do that for little old me?"

"Yeah, of course—— I don't know why you keep getting stuck with making this stuff."

Rory kisses him again.

She sits up on the counter next to him, eating her burger and drinking her slushee. Kicking her legs, like a small child, she hums in content as the food she's been wanting so badly is actually in her mouth. Little Averman is also pleased with this, too, seeing as they're placing firm yet repetitive kicks to her stomach and bladder.

"Your child's a dick." She huffs in the middle of her rambling about therapy that week.

Les snickers, taking the rice off the burner. "They're your kid too, babe."

"Yeah, but they definitely take after you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean."

Her husband sticks his tongue out at her.

When Rory thinks that he's not looking—— believing that he'd be a little preoccupied with mixing stuff—— she takes a piece of the meat of her burger and gives it to an impatiently waiting Johnny. After he's got the food in his mouth, she brings a finger up to her lips to tell him to be quiet. It proves to be a fruitless effort, though, because Les knows her too well.

"Stop feeding the dog human food."

Definitely guilty, Rory feigns innocence. "I wasn't doing anything."

"Mhm."

"I wasn't." She huffs, leaning down toward Johnny. "He doesn't get our relationship. He's boring."

The dog simply licks his lips and tilts his head to the side.

Les finishes the salad and puts it in the fridge. Now that their only obligation is finished, the two of them sit on the couch together in their living room and watch TV—— he massages her aching legs as they rest in his lap and she keeps him warm in the strong air conditioning by leaning on him.

"So, I know that you still feel weird about it, but how do you want to go about this tomorrow?"

To tell her what he means by 'this', he rests his hand on her stomach and rubs soothing circles with her thumbs. He's been incredibly patient with her through all of the neurotic, mental circles she's been running through ever since the start of this pregnancy. It was so natural for her to tell her in-laws and Krystal and Ellie about it—— Nora and Dan were so excited, and the woman who'd legally adopted Rory on her seventeenth birthday and their favorite girl in the world shed tears over it—— but everyone else in her life?

"I don't know." She purses her lips a bit. "I think—— I think that whenever it feels right, I'll tell them..."

"And if not, we can just send them in our Christmas cards. 'Merry Christmas everyone—— we're parents by the way.'"

Rory can't help but laugh a bit, smacking him on the arm as he laughs, too.

"It'll be fine." Les assures, voice still light with amusement. "Whatever you decide on will be best."

He brushes a stray hair back behind her ear and she leans into his touch, contentment written in her features.

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"I think we're the first ones here."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

Les lets the engine sit idle for a moment before turning off the car, getting out first, and coming around the car to help her out. Rory doesn't really need it, not yet, so she just stubbornly hands him the food they brought and gets out herself. As he rolls his eyes at her behavior, the front door to the Moreau-Germaine household opens and Connie flies down the stairs.

"Rory! Averman! I'm so glad you guys are here!"

She makes a noise of surprise as the other brunette jumps up to hug her, Les cringing. The warning to be careful dying on the tip of his tongue.

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world." He jokes. "What would you have done if your favorite person wasn't there?"

Rory sucks her teeth as her husband excludes her from that, taking the bowl back from him as Connie pulls away from their hug to wallop her best friend on the arm.

"Where's your husband, Moreau?" She asks over the sound of Lester's cackling and Connie's grumbling.

A disembodied voice answers her question.

"He's right here."

Guy goes down the steps much slower than his wife, smiling wide and pulling Rory into a much less energetic hug.

"How've you been?"

"I'm alright." He pulls away from her, brows creasing together as he looks her over. "Something's different about you? Did you do your hair?"

While she sees Guy and Connie more often than most of the Ducks, it's been a while.

Still, leave it up to Guy Germaine to notice that her hair is getting thicker and not that she looks like she's gained a whole crap ton of weight.

"Uh, yeah." It isn't entirely a lie. Not really. The pregnancy has certainly changed her hair.

Skeptically, the man nods, but before he can say anything, they're cut off by Connie.

She exuberantly tells Les, who seems amused by the thought of the tinier woman manning a grill, about the barbecue, and starts leading him around the house to the backyard.

"She's doing everything?" Rory turns back to Guy, amused. "I like househusband Guy."

With Connie working for the state government, Guy decided to stay home and take care of things. And, although they only have one kid thus far, it seems that the arrangement is working well for them already.

He smiles a little sarcastically. "I have to turn it on for her."

She snorts softly and then holds up the bowl.

"We made your stupid rice-salad crap."

Amusement plays at Guy's features.

"Thank you. Now c'mon, I need some real company in the kitchen."

Dutifully, Rory follows her friend into his house and through to the kitchen. Sitting in a high chair is little Gordon, their ten-month-old, and he makes grabby hands at her as soon as she drags his attention away from the blueberries he was mushing against his face. It's a rather messy and sticky display, but she finds herself unable to resist and picks the babbling boy up.

Screw these hormones.

"Hello." She coos, wiping some purple juice off his face with her thumb. "You are just the grossest little thing, Gordie, aren't you?"

Guy stands up from where he was previously peeking into the opened oven to give her a look.

"Did you just call my son gross?"

"Yes. Babies can be gross. But this one's pretty cute."

He breathes a laugh through his nose and shakes his head. "You'll change your mind when you have kids of your own."

"Well——" She hums, not really thinking—— "that's going to be sooner than you'd think."

Rory's eyes widen around the same time his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Guy glances her over again.

"Holy shit——"

She reaches forward and physically covers his lips with her hand.

"Shh." The brunette insists. "Nobody knows yet."

He says something against her hand that sounds an awful lot like 'you're pregnant?!'

"Yeah. I am. Les knows, and our parents know, but nobody else knows and I don't know when I'm going to tell them so shh."

Slowly, as he processes the information, Guy nods. Rory removed her hand from his face, taking in the absolutely shocked expression he's got.

"You're having a baby?" He keeps his voice quiet. "Averman is having a baby?"

"Always the tone of surprise... actually fair enough, his mother didn't think he'd get this far either."

Guy's too shocked to laugh at her joke.

The front door opens with a bang, making the two of them jump and making little Gordon start to cry. As she starts to calm the boy down, Dean Portman and Fulton Reed round the corner into the kitchen.

"I have beer!" Dean says excitedly, holding up the two cases he brought.

Fulton, much more demure than him, smiles awkwardly. "Hi."

"It's good to see you guys, too. It's only been like a few years, Dean. No big deal."

Apparently, even in his thirties, the biggest bash brother still refuses to wear things with sleeves.

"Oh. Did you miss me that badly? Come here."

Dean hugs her to the best of his ability and then rubs his knuckles into her scalp like he always used to. Smacking at his chest, she huffs as she steps back.

"We are adults." Rory complains.

"Hey, give him some credit. He peaked at fourteen."

"Yeah, give me some—— hey!"

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Most of them arrive within a few hours, and there's a lot of catching up to be had.

Fulton and Dean both play professional hockey, but the latter has most recently been traded to the Minnesota Wild, so they're now living together in an apartment in Minneapolis. Goldberg inherited his parents' business and he runs it with his fiancée, a nice girl named Jeanie. Luis is a firefighter down in Miami, married to a nice woman and a father to two kids so far (neither of whom he could bring, but he has plenty of pictures to show her.) Kenny's work lets him travel so he, too, has a whole bunch of pictures to show them—— ones that she enjoys just as much as the pictures of Luis' babies.

Dwayne took over his father's ranch, not that anyone is surprised, and the cowboy garb he shows up in gets mercilessly mocked.

Julie went pro, too—— as far as women can go pro, anyway—— and she, too, notices something's up with Rory. Russ, who got into standup comedy in L.A., rolls up in the most dramatic way possible, getting out of his limo wearing sunglasses. (A swift shoulder punch from Luis humbled him, though.)

They even got to call Jesse, who's got a business out in California. He coaches his son's baseball team, which amuses Rory in retrospect.

Charlie, who plays for one of the big teams in New York, and Adam, a public defender based in Boston, are the only two who RSVP'd and haven't arrived yet.

"Leave it up to the two of them." Luis snorts, poking at some potato salad.

"Adam's probably freaking out, he hates being late." She muses, taking a bite out of a hotdog.

Before anyone gets to comment on that, though, the creaky gate is opening.

"Speak of the devils."

Rory stands up as Adam enters the backyard, followed by Charlie.

"Sorry, we're, late!" The blond says sheepishly. "Had a mix-up at the airport."

He hugs her and kisses her on the cheek, swaying her a bit. If there's anyone that she chronically misses the most, it's Adam.

"Hey, Ror."

"Hey." She smiles as they pull away.

Standing a few paces behind them, Charlie shrugs off the jersey he's usually sporting nowadays. Rory whistles playfully.

"Take it off, Conway."

Adam laughs, but Charlie points at her and narrows his eyes.

"Behave."

"Never."

He hugs her, too, but when he pulls away, he cocks his head.

"Your skin looks nice."

"Thanks? Gee, you really know how to woo a woman, Conway."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm doing pretty well for myself."

She can't help but smile, releasing him so that he and his best friend (who he throws an arm around) can say hello to the rest of their friends.

Guy and Les now on either side of her, Rory, with her hands on her hips, huffs. "So, do I just look like shit all the time or something?"

Looping an arm around her shoulder, her husband looks from her to his friend. "I'm not gonna touch that."

"Me neither." Guy hums.

Her nose scrunches up. "Fair enough."

With all of them there, the minutes quickly become hours.

It's as if they're kids again, no longer adults with actual problems and jobs and responsibilities. For the first time since she got pregnant, Rory feels really relaxed. These people are a second family to her, even after all of the stuff that went down in their first year at Eden Hall, and sometimes she finds herself missing them so dearly that she looks forward to these stupid reunions. As loud and tiring as they are.

Eventually, the sun starts to set.

As the colors bleed together across the sky, painting it with reds and purples and all sorts of pretty colors, the grill is shut off and a fire is started in the fire pit. Connie disappears into the house with a very sleepy baby, re-emerging alone a few minutes later and everyone cheers her on quietly as she gives them a thumbs up. A silly grin comes to Ken's face, one Rory hasn't seen since the Eden Hall graduation after-party, and he holds up one of the packs of beer Dean brought.

"Now we can really have fun."

He starts handing bottles to people and she feels like she wishes the ground would swallow her whole. There's going to be no way to get out of this because—— even if she's always been hesitant around alcohol due to her father—— she's always nursed a glass of wine or a beer at parties.

But why keep hiding it?

After all, the bad parent thing is all in her head and Guy seemed excited enough once the shock wore off.

Les tears his eyes off the fire to look at her, likely gauging her reaction.

"Rory?"

When the standing man turns to her, Rory wets her lips with the tip of her tongue and waves a dismissive hand. "No. I'm, uh, good."

Skeptically, Ken nods and moves on to an incredibly eager Russ. Slowly but surely, a few people around the fire start to look at her with furrowed brows, the cogs in their heads turning—— and then Julie, who's been very suspicious all day, is jumping out of her seat.

"Oh my god!" She smiles a wide, toothy smile. "No fucking way!"

Rory, recovering from the shock, lets a nervous smile warble across her features as her grinning husband mumbles a 'guess the cats out of the bag.'

"Uh, yeah! Yeah, way."

"How long?!"

Charlie clears his throat, dragging all attention to him. "What—— what's going on?"

Julie looks around at all of her confused friends and scoffs.

"She's pregnant, geniuses." She says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Well. That was easy.

Like dominos, her friends all start to react to the blonde's words. Guy holds his beer out in cheer, saying that he knew this already, which makes Connie turn to him in slight rage. Goldberg, grinning, claps her husband on the back as Adam starts to pester her with about a million questions.

"I'm twenty weeks—— that's like five months. No, I don't know what I'm going to name them. No, I'm not naming them after Wayne Gretzky. No, I don't know the gender yet."

Charlie eventually reins him in.

Dean looks between the two of them with an odd expression before snorting. "I can't believe Averman got laid."

Rory stares at her friend, mouth open in amusement and shock, as Fulton chokes on his drink.

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner everybody." Averman snarks. "You passed eighth-grade science. Congrats."

Dean flips him off but gets flipped off in return.

"Alright alright. In all seriousness, let's make a toast for the happy couple." Luis, still giggling, says as he raises his beer. "To many years of healthy, annoying, and very pale redhead children."

Rory finds herself laughing as Les makes an indignant noise—— crying out that they're getting genes from her too—— and the rest of her friends raise their drinks in a toast.

"I hate you guys." Les groans as they all laugh.

They've all had some good years together, and, as Rory runs a hand over the swell of her stomach that was just starting to really grow, she smiles because there is only more to come. Though nothing would compare to the season of 1994, the year she became a Mighty Duck, a gold medal-winning player, and met the love of her life all in one fell swoop.

"You guys okay?" Her husband whispers, drawing her from her nostalgic thoughts with a hand on her face.

Rory smiles and nods, putting her hand over his and kissing his palm.

"It feels good to be back."

Les smiles and nods in agreement at her words, turning back to petty silence as she happily interlaces their fingers.

As the night drags on, more alcohol is consumed.

Dwayne, slightly tipsy, gets up and starts singing a boisterous rendition of We Are The Champions.

One by one, they all start to join in.

"I—— I thank you all—— Ror, c'mon, help me out!" Adam gestures at her with his beer, giggling softly.

Rory thinks for a moment, rolling her eyes and smiling with her teeth. "But it's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise."

Averman jumps up out of his seat, fists up in the air as he picks up after her.

The brunette laughs heartily, clamping a hand down over her mouth as the redhead wraps an arm around a disinterested Russ and starts to sway him.

Freddie Mercury was right.

Life isn't always a 'bed of roses' or a 'pleasure cruise'——it's completely and unfairly inconsistent, good one day and bad the next. But, Lorelei Averman found her people in Minnesota and LA, and they taught her a new meaning to everything.

They taught her that love makes the arduous task of living so much easier.

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a/n:

word count — 4986

the painting rory talks to dr. brown about is based on antoni piotrowski's piece called mother's happiness.

comments and votes are super appreciated! they let me know that you guys like my writing and they motivate me to continue! thank you