The Life and Times of Lori DuGrey
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing about Gilmore Girls.
Pairing: Will be Trory in the future...but right now you'll have to be contented with a lot of Trory fighting. But they love each other deep down, isn't that the important thing?
Review: I'm begging you...please please review if you like the story...and even if you don't...I just like reading reviews, especially when I should be writing essays worth almost half my grade that's due in two days.
Chapter One
Dear Diary,
The last time I saw my mother was one month, two days, and four minutes ago. It wasn't that I didn't want to see her, because I do. It's just that my parents are divorced and since my mother travels, like, all the time for her job the judge appointed my father as sole guardian. I love him, I really do, but sometimes he seems to live in his own little world. But this could be related to my mother calling him a "bad lover and an even worse husband". This probably came to him as a surprise; according to his sister Lara and his younger brother Jonathon he never did too bad in the women department before now. It's okay that I know; I'm old enough to handle the truth.
Today, my father calls me down for a family meeting in the kitchen. By family he means himself and me and Sparky (my adorable Scottish Terrier). I already know what this is about. He's going to angrily question me about the half empty bottle of bourbon that used to be full. Well, the truth is, it isn't technically half empty because when I got home I refilled it with water (and I may have added some food coloring too). But I guess you can tell the difference because when I saw him take a swig of it this morning, he cringed and spit it back in the bottle. I could have sworn that on the food coloring label it read "tasteless". I walked slowly down the stairs. I'm taking my time if all he's going to do is yell at me. I'd really rather avoid a scene. God, I'm reaching the kitchen now; please don't let him be mad. He looks mad. He looks really, really mad. Do you think I would make it to the door if I run? I don't know, he used to be on the varsity basketball and football team.
"What the hell is this?" he yells at me irritably.
"It looks like bourbon…sir," I say trying to lighten the mood.
"Why does it taste like crap then?" He is spitting when he shouts. That is never a good sign. For me, that is. The only other time he spits is when he is shouting at my mom. Her name is Rory, by the way. It's short for Lorelai. That's my grandmother's name too. And my great great grandmother's. Isn't that a pretty name? That's also my name. But how stupid would it be if all four generations were named Lorelai? That would seem so conceited. So my parents shortened it, just before they shortened their marriage.
Okay, sorry, back to the real issue. My dad.
"Geez dad, why does it matter?" I shrug.
"It matters because you're fucking sixteen years old and you drank half a bottle of expensive bourbon!"
"So," I begin matter-of-factly. "If it weren't expensive that would be okay?"
"What? No!"
"Then, what's your point?"
"The point is I'm calling your mother and she can deal with you."
"Ooohhhh…I'm so scared!" I laugh. "I'll be in my room."
I heard my father slam the door to his study in anger and dial the number to her hotel suite in New Orleans.
"Rory!" I heard him shout. "Your daughter is turning into a drunk!"
"I should watch her!" he cried with indignation. "She's your daughter! You should teach her not to sneak her father's alcohol!"
"It's not my fault I have it in the house!" he angrily shouts back at her.
I hear the phone slam down on the cradle.
"I'm not a bad father," I whispers to himself.
I stand in the doorway of his study.
"Daddy?"
He doesn't look up but begins to loosen his tie.
"Daddy?"
"Come here," he beckons.
I jump onto his lap and hear an "umph".
"I love you daddy!" I whispered into his ear as I give him a big hug.