Authors Note: This is story is dedicated to marymac, in honor of her birthday. Have a happy one! Huge thanks to the betas: CineFille, bridges, and JeSouhaite. As always, this is much better for their input.
Over the last couple of weeks, she's taken all of the lingering questions, all the worries and fears and mentally wrapped them up together. It's so much easier to deal with the swirling mass of emotions when it's consolidated into a single weight and buried in a deep corner of her gut. It's more manageable this way; she's gotten used to the dull ache of it sitting there.
Because of what they've shared tonight, she's letting herself feel that weight, acknowledge its existence, for the first time in days. Maybe it's the fact that her parents have accepted the inevitable and are directing their veiled criticisms to them as a couple. Or that he was there to listen when she told him about Rory's decision. Or that he wasn't satisfied letting her thank him tonight, but he had to return the favor. The mutual togetherness has made her bold, has made her feel like it might be safe to tear a single question off the mass and throw it into the space between them.
She turns toward him, bunching her pillow up under her head. He's lying on his back, eyes closed, but she can tell from his breathing that he's still awake. "Luke, why don't you live here yet?"
"What?" he asks sleepily.
"Why haven't you moved in? The renovations were finished months ago. We got new furniture." There's a pleading tone in her voice that she didn't intend, but it seems to get his attention.
He rolls onto to his side, propping his head on his hand and rubbing the other hand across his eyes. "Lorelai, we talked about this."
"We did? Did I miss it?"
He speaks patiently, "We decided to wait a bit."
"You mean when Rory came back?" she asks. "Because I don't know if you noticed, but she's back at school. She doesn't live here anymore. In fact, she lives with Logan now." She adds the last bitterly.
"Is that what this is about? Rory living with her boyfriend?" She can hear a touch of irritation in his voice.
"No, I mean it's not like some sort of mother-daughter competition, which is good because I so don't want to go there, but it got me thinking. I was telling her what a big step it was, that I didn't even know what it was like to live with a guy. And it made me wonder why not. Why you don't actually live here yet."
"What do you mean? I'm here almost every night."
"I know, so I can't for the life of me figure out why you're still keeping most of your stuff above the diner."
"Lorelai..." he says, his voice weary, almost a whine.
"Look, I know this might not be the best thing to bring up, but you brought your grandmother's furniture here." He lets out a groan at the memory and gives her a look of disbelief. She continues though, determined to explain, "You didn't bring it here for me, you brought it for us. To put in our bedroom, which we made bigger so that there would be room for your stuff. For god sakes, you even paid for the renovations."
"So?"
"So, I guess I'd like you to stop calling it my house. Unless..." Her voice becomes very small. "Unless, you're changing your mind...and you don't want to move in"
"What?" he says softly, reaching to push the hair away from her eyes and holding her gaze. "No. I want that. I want to be here with you."
She feels a flood of relief at his words, a lightening of the weight in her gut. She smiles, reaching to palm his cheek, running her thumb across his lip, and asks lightly, "Does that mean its time to take Kirk up on the offer of moving services?"
He tenses, then lets out a long sigh, "Does it have to be right now? There's just so much going on."
She closes her eyes and drops her hand, feeling the rejection, feeling her tightly controlled mass start to unravel, feeling strands of emotion escaping her hold. "You mean April?" He doesn't respond, and even before she looks at him she can feel him putting up the wall again. "I guess I don't understand how moving in here will affect things with April."
He pulls his hand away from where it's been resting on her wrist and looks down. "I just feel like I need a little more time."
"For what? Are you waiting for something?" He's frustrated and she can see it, can see that she's starting to push him, but now that she's started, she just can't make herself stop. "I don't get it."
"I just need to know that I can do it," he insists.
"Do what?"
"Be her dad. No one thinks I can."
"Are you kidding? No one thinks that."
He looks back at her sadly, and her heart aches at the discouragement in his voice. "You should hear what they say in the diner. They think that I don't notice. 'Can you believe Luke has a daughter? Can you believe she reads? Who would have ever thought Luke would have a kid? Isn't it a good thing Luke has Lorelai around? He's going to need the help. What does he know about little girls."
"Luke, stop. Don't even listen to them. Most of them don't have kids anyway. There's only one person whose opinion matters at all - April. And she's obviously happy with you."
He gives her a look that says he's not convinced. "How do you know? You've never even met her."
She's got a retort on the tip of her tongue, but bites it back, "A conversation for another time," she says, giving a little wave of her hand to brush the thought, and the stab of pain it causes, away. "I know because she rides her bikes here from Woodbridge every other day just to hang out with you in the diner. She could do her homework at her kitchen table, but instead she comes all the way here so that she can be near you. She likes you, so that's all you should care about."
"That's not all," he says, watching his fingers toy with the edge of the sheet. "I care about what you think."
"It doesn't seem like it." She fights to keep her emotions in check, to gather the bits of worry back together, but she's unable to keep the hurt out of her voice. "Why don't you want her to know me?"
She's shamed by the pathetic sound of her voice, wants to take time back and get a do-over. But he's heard it, and she can see that though he may have had an inkling of her pain, this is the first time he's fully acknowledged it to himself. "I do. I want you to know her, to be a part of this. I need you to be."
She looks up at him, nods and after a beat says softly, "But..."
"I wanted to get to know her myself first, have a chance to feel like a dad." He looks away from her and she can tell it hurts him to admit, "I just don't want them to be right. That I can only do it because I'm with you."
"So you need to do it without me?" She says it slowly and deliberately, hearing the words roll off her tongue but not letting herself process them, pushing back against the expanding weight in her gut. Sitting up, she turns away from him and braces herself for his answer. She can feel her control faltering, feel everything she's had such a tight hold on for the last couple of weeks slipping from her grasp. The questions and uncertainties hum through her body and pound in her head, scattering as they expose the fears she'd convinced herself she didn't feel, the ones she'd buried the deepest. He reaches for her arm and pulls her back toward him. "No, not without you. I just wanted to get to know her without an audience, without feeling like everyone was checking up on me"
"Is that what you think I want to do? Check up on you? How can you lump me in with the rest of the town?" She's annoyed and she's past worrying about hiding it.
"I'm not. You're the only one who matters to me. Damnit Lorelai, we're getting married." His voice is frustrated as he runs his fingers through his hair, "I don't want you to see me suck at being a father." Looking away, he lets out an agitated sigh.
The moment is too fraught with emotion to ask if he means what she thinks he means. If he's thinking beyond April to the nebulous idea of kid, or kids that's only ever been mentioned during the giddy hours of post-engagement induced bliss. Whether he'd still want that was one of the questions she'd buried most deeply.
It takes her a moment to rein in the annoyance and fear she'd been feeling and respond to his admission. "You don't suck, Luke. Not at all," she reassures him softly, then pauses, waiting for him to lift his eyes to hers. "Where is this coming from?"
"You came here with nothing, raised Rory in a tool-shed and made a home for her all by yourself. And I'm having trouble figuring out how to help April with her homework."
"You're being too hard on yourself. I'd been a parent a long time when I met you. If you'd seen me when I first came to Stars Hollow, you wouldn't be so impressed."
"I seriously doubt that," he says matter-of-factly. She gives an exasperated shrug. "It doesn't matter one way or another. It doesn't change the fact that you will be, that you are a wonderful father. You have to give me more credit than this. I understand how hard it is to be a parent, but I've also never questioned that you could do this." He's looking down, scratching his finger along the comforter. "Look, I'm not planning on telling you how to be a parent. All I want is for you to talk to me."
She looks at him until he meets her gaze. He has the decency to look sheepish as he pulls her into his arms. "I am so sorry," he whispers into her hair as he runs his fingers up and down her back. The motion soothes her, eases the tension, dissolving many of the little questions. For the first time in a long time the ache of buried feelings is diminished and the remaining questions feel manageable. She pulls back from him for a moment, holding one of his hands in both of hers, playing with his fingers. "Hey, if you do want to hang out with April without an audience, just let me know and I'll...I don't know, go have dinner with Rory or something so that you can make April dinner here. You can have the place to yourself. It'd just be like you were playing poker with the guys."
"Poker?"
"You know, like poker night with the guys. Isn't that what guys do?"
"In all the time that we've been together, have I ever played poker with the guys? What guys anyway? Kirk, Taylor?"
"It's just an example, Luke. You know, women getting out of the way so that men can hang out and play poker. That's all I meant, although, now that you mention it, can you imagine? You playing poker with Jackson, Taylor, Kirk, and Andrew! Jackson can't keep track of which game you're playing. Taylor makes you use coasters and won't let you smoke cigars. Andrew is holding up the hands because he keeps getting cell-phone calls from Gypsy. Kirk turns out to be a Five Card Draw savant and cleans you all out-"
He interrupts with a groan, "Lorelai..." but she's too lost in the image to stop.
"And you!" she laughs, relieved for the momentary lightheartedness. "You spend the whole night ranting about the junk food consumption and the pointless money-loss associated with poker while trying not to kill the other four."
Luke's irritation seems to get the better of him. "What the hell are we doing talking about poker?"
"You're right, sorry."
He takes a breath, resting his forehead against his fingers, then looks up, his brow wrinkled in confusion. "Wait, did you say Andrew and Gypsy?"
"Wow, you really are behind the times," she says, chuckling.
"Ah jeez, now I can't even remember how we got to poker."
Her voice is uncharacteristically soft as she returns to the more serious reality. "I was just saying that, if you want, I can leave so that you can hang out with April somewhere other than the middle of the diner while you're working."
"That might be nice - to be able to see her without having the all the town nutcases watching me," he admits. His expression softens and he looks at her thoughtfully. "You want to meet her."
It's not a question, but she nods. "Of course I do, but not until you want me to."
He takes a deep breath. "Then you should have dinner with us."
"Are you sure?" she asks, hearing what might be a touch of uncertainty in his voice. "Because if you want you could make her dinner and I could just join you for dessert."
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm sorry I've been an idiot."
"I guess the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem," she teases, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. When she pulls back she holds his gaze, her expression softening. "Seriously Luke, I don't want to get in your way or tell you how to be a parent. I'm just trying to figure out how you want her to fit into our life. Should I dig out Scrabble for a game night? Should I plan on making another bridesmaid dress? Do we need to build another bedroom in the house?"
"You want to build April a bedroom in your house?" She thinks it's a good sign that he looks touched, though he's still sort of missing the point.
"No, Luke. I think we should build a room for April in our house."
Fin
Author's note: I have to add here that the description for the poker game came from CineFille. I thought it made such an amusing image that I had to work it in.