Title: On Life and Stuff
Author: Erin Kaye Hashet
Rating: PG
Feedback:
Distribution: Anywhere, just let me know
Spoilers: Through "But Not As Cute As Pushkin"
Summary: Luke and Lorelai have barely moved in together before a crisis enters their lives.
Disclaimer: Wish I owned them, but I don't
Author's Notes: This marks my second WIP. It will probably be 12 parts. I welcome feedback, but just to be clear, if you make suggestions, I probably won't take them, simply because I want to stay true to my own vision of where this story's going. Hope you enjoy this!
On Life and Stuff
by Erin Kaye Hashet
"This isn't life! This is stuff! And it's become more important to you than living!"
-from American Beauty
Chapter 1
Luke would never have answered the phone if he'd known what would result from it. It happened one Monday morning as he was getting dressed for work and Lorelai was still lying in bed.
"Unnnnnhh." Half-consciously, Lorelai groaned a syllable that could only have come out of her. "Get that, will you?"
So Luke reached for the phone on the side of their bed. "Hello?"
"Who is this?" Luke was wincing before the voice on the other end of the phone finished her sentence. He'd recognized its sharp, judgmental inflections as belonging to Emily Gilmore.
"Uh . . . uh . . . this is Luke, Mrs. Gilmore," he stammered before he remembered that she'd told him to call her Emily. In the bed, Lorelai's eyes popped wide open.
"Oh, hello, Luke. How interesting to hear you on the other end of the phone at my daughter's house."
"Oh. Um . . ." Luke was starting to sweat. "Would you like to speak to Lorelai, Mrs. Gilmore?" He could see Lorelai tensing up, clutching the blankets and vehemently shaking her head.
"Why, yes, Luke, I would. Generally when I call this number on a weekday I am indeed calling for Lorelai, seeing as Rory is at school and as far as I have been informed my daughter and granddaughter are the only two people currently living in this house."
Shit. "Okay, uh, Mrs. Gilmore, here she is." In the bed, Lorelai balled up her fists and shook them violently, mouthing, "No!"
"Oh, please, Luke, I've told you to call me Emily."
Lorelai cast him a defeated look as she picked up the phone. "Hello, Mother."
Luke continued to get dressed as the conversation progressed, acting as if he wasn't interested in it, but he could hear all of Lorelai's side of it.
"Because I told him to, Mom! He was awake and I wasn't, so I asked him to pick it up!...Yes, Mom, as a matter of fact, he has moved in….Mom, you would have found out eventually. I guess eventually came today….Well, gee, Mom!" Lorelai's tone of voice was rising by then. "I don't know, maybe I didn't tell you so you wouldn't embarrass him like you did when he came for dinner!... Oh, don't play innocent, Mom, you know exactly what you did! You know what? Never mind. I'm not fighting with you about this now. You just tell me why you're calling me long before you know I get up for work….Fine. Find somewhere else….Yeah. Bye."
Luke turned around in surprise when the conversation ended. Angry phone conversations between Lorelai and Emily were hardly something new, but usually they settled into a kind of annoyed tolerance before they were over. Lorelai was rubbing her head as if it ached. "God," she said, still sounding angry.
"What was that about?" Luke asked curiously.
"Well," said Lorelai with a sigh, "apparently my mother wanted to know if she could use the inn for a DAR function, and felt the need to call me before her early appointment today. But then you answered the phone, which led to the why-didn't-you-tell-me-Luke-moved-in-with-you barrage of questions, so now apparently she's having her function elsewhere."
"Ah." Luke nodded. "I'm sorry I answered it."
"No, don't be, babe. You didn't know it would be her. We don't have caller ID and you're not psychic. Although…" Lorelai raised her eyebrows. "You did uncannily predict the exact date I'd receive the Go-Go's shirt I ordered off E-Bay."
"That's called common sense, not extrasensory perception."
"Of course, if you are indeed psychic, then you did know it would be my mother and therefore answered the phone on purpose. Which would mean you're secretly trying to kill me and I'm living with a potential murderer!"
"Tell me again why you need coffee," Luke groaned. "See you after work."
Thursday night, however, the phone rang again. This time, Luke was reading the paper, so he didn't hear Lorelai's side of the conversation. He just looked up after Lorelai got off the phone and walked into the room frowning.
"That was my mother," she said.
"She still mad?" Luke asked.
"No, that was the weird thing," said Lorelai. "She was calling to tell me that she wouldn't be able to make Friday night dinner, but we can still go to the pool house with my father. But she never once mentioned the fight we had on Monday. And that is very much unlike her. She's the type to hold things above my head. Hey, if she ever let go of all the things she holds over my head, I'd be buried alive under thirty-six years of guilt trips."
"Huh," said Luke. "She mention why she wouldn't make it."
"No," replied Lorelai, still seeming bewildered. "She just said, 'Something came up,' Marcia Brady-style."
"Interesting," said Luke, turning the page in the paper.
"Maybe she has another date with that Simon guy," said Lorelai.
"Maybe," answered Luke absently.
To be continued…
