AN: I don't own Gilmore Girls but I'm enjoying being a part of their world.
** Chapter updated to first person/present tense. Some formatting got screwed up.
"Okay, what's left?"
Lorelei stands around a heap of bags bursting with clothes. Despite her daughter being gone most of the time, the amount of stuff that belongs to Rory hasn't diminished over the last three years. The kid had a lot of stuff.
"Uh, well…" Rory bites her lip and takes an exasperated breath, placing her hands determinedly on her hips. She glances around the living room, which hasn't changed since college.
"Do you feel ready?" Lorelai questions, tilting her head to look at Rory.
She crosses her arms over her chest. "You mean do I have enough stuff?"
"I'm pretty sure the people in Day After Tomorrow would have ransacked this place with all the crap you've accumulated over the years."
"It's not my fault, you spoiled me! You lead to this."
"Whoa," Lorelai holds up her hands in mock offense, "This is my fault?"
"You doomed us to hoarding. We still have the Max and Dean and Jess boxes shoved in the closet somewhere."
"We still have those?"
"You know, this isn't our proudest moment."
"Mm yeah, well."
Rory pouts suddenly and runs her fingers through her hair, looking around at the chaos that surrounds her legs.
"When did adulthood become so complicated? I thought I had this figured out," Rory says dully, blowing her bangs out of her face.
Lorelei softens and smiles at her.
"Aw, hon. Our inability to downsize isn't a reflection on your independence. This is exciting. Don't be nervous!" She coos, lovingly reaching out to brush Rory's arm.
"How can I not be nervous?" Rory half-whines. "How am I going to live in a foreign country for half a year if I can't even manage to properly pack my bags? I'm leaving the country and I have no idea what to pack, and because I have no idea what to pack I'm probably over packing, and -" Rory stops her own ramble, looking at Lorelai with both worried and exhilarated eyes.
"And this is your dream and you don't wanna mess it up," Lorelai finishes for her.
"Well, yeah."
"You're going to be great. This is your dream, it's our dream, and just like "Harvard!.. No... Yale!," we are gonna be in this together and you are going to be so much better than Christiane Amanpour that she'll have to give up and never, ever pick up a pen again," Lorelai finishes confidently and tosses up her hands, letting them fall back against the front of her jeans.
"Mom! Don't say that, I love her writing," Rory scolds.
"My point is, hon, Italy isn't going to want to let you leave," Lorelai assures her with a smile. She reaches over and hugs Rory, who slumps into her mother's welcoming and confident arms.
"Thanks, mom," Rory whispers, smiling over Lorelai's shoulder.
"Anytime babe. Now, let's figure this out. What's left?"
Rory and Lorelai move apart and look back down at the mess of bags, assessing. They exchange a skeptical look.
"Do you think eight bags is too much?" Rory wonders aloud.
"Well. Maybe. You're only going for a month, right?" Lorelai asks innocently.
"Nice try - six months," Rory says dryly, and the two look at the bags again with disdain. It has taken them so long just to decide what seems appropriate to bring. Now they had to go through and try to condense it again?
"But we just finished packing," Rory sighs.
"Or, you know, maybe eight bags is perfect because it's a great way to meet handsome Italian men with great biceps and shiny hair?" Lorelei offers.
"I think it's too much," Rory concedes, receiving an indifferent sigh from her mother.
"Okay, so, what do we take out to make an unruly eight bags turn into a respectable four?"
"Is four too much?"
"This is crazy!"
"Maybe we should wait for Luke to come home?" Rory counters.
"Good idea. Food?"
"Pizza?"
"Oh good, I'm starving. All this talk about Italy is making me crave some carbs."
Rory walks through the town, taking everything in. She knows she won't be gone very long, and she feels silly that she's already homesick. It never gets easier to leave, but she figures that's part of the luck in living out your dream - sacrifices have to be made.
She loves the life she has while she is home, which, as she gets older, she realizes is vastly different from most 24 year olds, or at least the ones that she has grown up around.
Sure, occasionally she misses living on her own or with a like-aged peer at times. But Lorelai and Luke give her all the privacy that she needs, including during any dates (though they haven't amounted to much). It allows her to avoid the obnoxious subletting adventure that she had to go through every time her job called her out of the country.
And besides: Stars Hallow, in all of its charming idiosyncrasies and community closeness, is home.
Rory knows the way to the diner better than she knows how to get anywhere else in the world. She knows what to expect when godsons Steve and Kwan - both of whom are full blown toddlers now, babbling and getting dirty and driving Lane crazy - come rushing up to her out of her best friend and best-friend-in-law's home. Despite Miss Patty's creeping age and newfound Guatemalan husband, Rory loves walking by the studio to see that she is still committed to instruction, guiding the newest set of uncoordinated girls to be the oranges and to feel like butterflies.
She doesn't even mind seeing Dean and Kirk arguing, something that happens more and more with Lulu's pregnancy. (Dean "is a giant that can knock Lulu over at any second," and it doesn't seem unreasonable to Kirk for Dean to leave any area that Lulu occupies… including Dosee's, where he still works part time.)
Rory smiles as such an argument is happening again on the corner. She frowns as it ends, Dean barely nodding towards her before huffing and shoving open the doors of the supermarket. Things never really got better after the affair, Rory considers as she pushes open the door to Luke's. That was to be expected, though, and there really wasn't anything anything else to it.
"Hey Cesar," Rory calls jovially, plopping herself on a stool by the counter.
"Hey Rory, coffee to go?" He asks, handing a set of plates steaming with breakfast over to a couple of hungry high schoolers.
"Yes please!" She responds with a smile, taking a look around. It is Saturday, and nowadays Luke avoids the diner as much as possible on Saturday mornings. By now, most of the parents and their babies are taking over the back of the establishment. Rory distinctly remembers a breastfeeding incident that had occurred several years ago in high school, and chuckles to herself remembering how both Luke and Jess had reacted poorly to the sight.
Cesar hands Rory the coffee and smiles at her, waving her off as she tries to pay the $2 for the cup. She offers a small smile in gratitude and heads out of the diner, heading towards Lane's.