One-Shot: Gilmore Girls' Younger Years
The door to the garage opened just the tiniest crack. A pause, and then it opened further. Finally, there was enough space for the young girl of 17 to wiggle through, carrying a carseat in her arms. The concrete stone of the garage did nothing to keep out the chill of the December air; newscasters were predicting Winter 1985 to be the coldest in living memory.
Reaching the back door of her parents' sleek Nissan SUV, the teenager deposited the car seat and strapped it in as if it bore a cargo as precious as gold. And indeed, to the young mother, the cargo might as well have been gold itself, such love she felt for it. Her 14-month old baby daughter, Lorelai Leigh Gilmore. The baby had been named for her mother, of course, the elder Lorelai - though Lorelai had taken to calling her Rory soon after the infant was born.
The tiniest of whimpers made Lorelai jump out of her skin, as baby Rory stirred but did not wake. Lorelai smiled. "That's a good baby girl," she whispered softly. "Sleep tight, Rory. We're going on a trip, you and I."
Checking that she had everything she needed (she had spent weeks incrementally loading most of her belongings into the back of the van, for her parents hardly drove it anymore in preference for their richer, faster cars. And Lord knows Richard never bothered to vacuum or otherwise clean it!), Lorelai procured the keys she had also swiped and climbed behind the wheel. For the briefest moment, she looked back at the garage door that was still down. Raising it might wake and alert her parents. Should she just back up and break down the thing before speeding off? No, then the whole neighborhood would be alerted! Tentatively, she pressed the button that raised the garage door, wincing at every creak and groan of the coils. At last, the night grew still again. Lorelai checked on Rory, who had not moved or even made any new sounds throughout the whole audibly-jarring ordeal.
Another thought gave the aspiring teenaged runaway pause, and it nearly stopped her from leaving. Would her parents miss her? Was she letting them down? But the qualms vanished almost as quickly as they had appeared. No! What did her parents care for her? They had shamed her for sleeping with the love of her life, then for refusing to marry him all for the sake of maintaining their image and not hers! A marriage that would only have ended in tragedy - and would have traumatized Rory, surely.
No. From now on, Lorelai would do what was best for her... and for her daughter. They would make their own rules now. Still stewing in her resentment, Lorelai turned the key in the ignition, and rolled out of the drive without even bothering to check her speed. She zoomed off into the snowy night.
As most hometowns go, Hartford, Connecticut was a pretty confining one. If you saw one part of town, you had seen it all. So it didn't take long for Lorelai to reach highways untrodden and parts unknown. Checking the map splayed out over the empty shotgun seat, Lorelai only hoped that she knew where she was going. Well, actually, she didn't really know where she wanted to go in the first place. She hadn't worked that out. A part of her rebellious nature considered just driving until she ran out of gas... and hoping that milestone occurred in a friendly town, or in civilization at all. Wherever that was, would it be a home for her and her little girl? Would that place - still an amorphous fantasy in her mind - welcome them with open arms, these two vagabonds without a cause, with no purpose other than to each other? In the middle of a conservative era, Reagan's America could be a harsh, unforgiving place. A place where you were expected to succeed - or fail - on your own. Where true Christian charity, though piously orated, was in actuality difficult to come by. But, if those were the rules, Lorelai vowed to play by them as best she could. Working hard for herself and Rory would allow her to look her baby in the face.
Lorelai paused in her musings to check on Rory. 2:00 in the morning, and she was remarkably still asleep. She would not be for long, though. She would wake in the hours just before sunrise, as had been her custom, screaming for her mother's milk. And that would force Lorelai to make a pit stop somewhere - a gas station perhaps, where the privacy of a bathroom could allow her to perform her maternal duties in peace.
Another factor Lorelai had not anticipated was the snow. It had proceeded to fall more heavily as the night wore on, much heavier than it had been in Hartford. Just her luck if she was riding into a snowstorm! The snowdrifts along the guardrails grew steadily higher with each passing mile, it seemed. And was it just her imagination, or were her headlights picking up the black reflection, nearly invisible, of ice on the roads?
For just a moment, Lorelai checked on Rory again. Smiling tenderly, she stretched back and caressed her little legs and feet, cocooned in her sleeper onesie. "I love you, baby..."
That moment would, all at once, be both nearly fatal in its present moment, and yet serendipitous when Lorelai would look back on it years later. The Nissan suddenly must have hit a bad patch of ice, for the wheels began to hydroplane horribly. Lorelai snapped her free hand back to the steering wheel, her eyes now wide with terror. She tried to regain command of the vehicle, but it would not obey. She was now in danger of spinning out of control!
"Oh, God, please, No! Rory! Rory! Hang on, honey!" Lorelai was so focused on not killing herself or her daughter, that she did not notice her headlights flash just for an instant on a road sign: Welcome to Stars Hollow, CT...
"AHHHHHHH!" Lorelai screamed as the Nissan jumped the guardrail, plunging into a snowdrift. The inside of the car seemed to suddenly heat by several degrees. Lorelai hardly felt it, or the blood pooling from a cut in her head, as she was knocked against the steering wheel, and everything went black.
The last thing she heard was Rory's plaintive cries...
Hours later, the cacophonous wails of Lorelai's baby were replaced by a steady beeping, like what you might hear from a monitor. Slowly, the teenage mom came back into the living world. Her eyes initially fell on what looked like a human figure, blurry in its shape at first, before gradually coming into focus. Was that...
"Christopher?" Lorelai choked out the name of her lost love and baby's father. The figure - whoever he was - laughed and shrugged as Lorelai finally regained her vision in full.
"Close enough." Perhaps it was spoken in good humor, for this man - this stranger - was most definitely not Christopher. Where Christopher was clean-cut, this man was rough and rugged; days-old stubble clung to his jaw and neck. Where Christopher was diplomatic in his verbal delivery, the stranger before Lorelai was blunt and to-the-point.
He was handsome in his own way, Lorelai's mysterious... rescuer? Guardian angel? He looked to be about in his mid-twenties; 25, by the teenager's estimation.
"Where... where am I?" Lorelai got out.
"Stars Hollow Hospital," was the only response she received.
Stars Hollow? What the hell is Stars Hollow? Where the hell is it? The memory of the crash suddenly came rushing back into Lorelai's mind, and she cried out, reaching blindly. "Rory... Where's Rory?"
"She's alive. She's fine," the stranger replied. "Cute little thing, too. The nurses will hardly share her." He stepped back to reveal the little baby, still strapped in her car seat, which was now perched in an armchair. Lorelai was still recovering some of her faculties, but she had enough of her wits about her to realize what the black marks streaking up the pristine white structure of the car seat signified. Charring.
"There was a fire..."
"And I found you in the nick of time, too," the stranger said. "Had to dig you and the little princess out. And all your stuff - rescue team saved it, but the car is totaled."
Of course it was. Lorelai realized just how lucky she and her baby were to be alive. But that didn't stop her from flopping her head back into the pillows and groaning, "Mom and Dad are gonna kill me..." She burst into tears.
"Are you OK?" the stranger asked.
"OK?" Lorelai practically shrieked at his lack of tact, perception skills, whatever. "My life is over! Is that OK?"
"Shoot, that can happen to anyone. Hanky?" he procured a Kleenex from the pocket of his jeans. Lorelai accepted it silently and blew her nose.
"I'm Luke, by the way. Luke Danes."
"Lorelai. Lorelai Gilmore," she sniffled.
"Beautiful name," Luke marveled. "And... Rory, is it? She's yours, isn't she?" He asked it openly, unlike the many people who in the last fourteen months had tiptoed around the question, fearing they might offend Lorelai if they even asked her at all, never mind risking being incorrect.
Lorelai just nodded. She waited for the inevitable inquiry into if she was running away, which she had prepared herself for no matter where she ended up, or how she ended up there. But Luke didn't ask any questions; indeed, he seemed to pass no judgement of any sort.
So she filled the breach of the silence with a question of her own. "You said you saved me... us...? Are you a mechanic?"
Luke laughed. "No. Not exactly. I run a diner. Serve coffee."
"Right here in... Stars...?" Lorelai fished for the name he had dropped.
"Hollow. Stars Hollow, Connecticut."
Well, that was both a relief and a tragedy simultaneously. She was still in Connecticut! But how far away from Hartford? Lorelai decided to probe and find out.
"30, 40 minutes tops. Is that where you came from?"
Lorelai nodded. With her car ruined, she guessed this Stars Hollow place would have to do as home for now. 40 minutes away from her parents, though by no means ideal, was decent enough.
"When will I be able to leave?"
"Doc said first thing in the morning."
Lorelai glanced away. "You don't have to stay," she mumbled.
"I want to. Make sure you and the little one are O.K.; taken care of." Luke seemed sweet in his earnestness. He glanced at his wristwatch. "But it is getting late. You and the baby need your rest." He headed for the door, then turned back. "I'm glad to have met you, Lorelai. Maybe I'll see you around town."
Lorelai glanced to Rory as Luke left. Somehow, the little girl must have fallen back to sleep in the ensuing chaos. Smiling tenderly, Lorelai kept her eyes on her baby until she drifted into sleep.
The next morning, Lorelai was permitted to leave the hospital with Rory. Luke had been right about the nurses doting on the infant; they didn't want to see her go.
With no car or transportation of any kind, Lorelai had no choice but to gather Rory and her carseat up in her arms and wander the streets.
As towns go, Lorelai learned through her exploration that Stars Hollow was of average size. Population 9,973. A few hundred square miles in area. And historic - the town was founded in 1779, during the Revolutionary War; Lorelai learned that George Washington's troops passed through here, on their way to the Battle of Groton Heights. The shops lining the boulevards were quaint - there was an Antiques store, a bookstore, a pancake restaurant. All or at least most of them named for somebody - Kim, Al, etc. And there was Luke's Diner now, along Oak Street. Seeing it reminded Lorelai of the note Luke had left for her and that the doctor had relayed to her. It said her belongings had been carted up to some place known as the Independence Inn. Following the town map, Lorelai hiked up there.
The Inn itself was just as quaint as all the other storefronts in town, historic in its aesthetics. Placed on a small hill overlooking the community, Lorelai was struck by how ideal it must be as a temporary place to stay. Nevertheless, she entered tentatively, on her guard over how some folks might react to a scared kid with a baby on her hip.
Lorelai approached the front desk. "Excuse me... I was told my things were brought up here?"
The woman at the other side of the desk looked up. She was a sweet-faced woman, middle-aged; there was an almost grandmother-like quality about her. "And you must be the poor dear who got in that car crash! Oh, I hope you're not too hurt!" She gasped when she saw Rory. "And you have a baby! Oh, bless you!"
Lorelai relaxed, smiling. "Rory and I are both fine, thank you. Except we're pretty much stranded. My Nissan was totaled and..."
"Now, don't you worry about a thing! You and the little one can stay here as long as you need to. Until you find your feet!"
"That's very kind of you," Lorelai smiled. "I would pay, of course, except I'm broke."
The proprietress thought for a moment. "Tell you what: I'm in need of a maid. How about a job in exchange for room and board? Salary is $10 an hour."
Lorelai gasped. "A job? Oh, absolutely! Thank you!"
"You're very welcome, child. What's your name?"
"Lorelai Gilmore. And this is my daughter, Rory."
"Mia Bass," the lady smiled. "If you'll come with me, Lorelai, I'll show you where you will be staying."
Mia led the girls out back of the Inn to what seemed to be a shed. A potting shed, to be more precise, as Lorelai stepped inside. Plants pots and empty soil bags littered the floor; shelfs were cluttered with garden hoes and other tools.
"I'll clean this space out for you, for your things; you'll be busy enough cleaning the Inn. Bring you in a cot or something," Mia bristled.
From her car seat, Rory suddenly gurgled happily.
"And we'll find somewhere for you to sleep, too!" Mia cooed at the little infant.
Mia was as good as her word. Within 24 hours, Lorelai was an official maid at the Independence Inn, and her new home was being cleared out by some of the other staff. One of the concierges entertained Rory whenever Lorelai was on shift.
By the time Lorelai dragged herself into the potting shed, exhausted after her first day, her suitcases were piled in the center of an otherwise spick-and-span shed.
Lorelai looked to Rory, by now back in her car seat after being carried and passed around all day. "Well, baby girl. Whaddaya think? This'll be it, for now."
Rory just smiled in response.
Lorelai smirked. "I take it you approve. Though... it would be nice if you had somewhere to sleep other than that car seat."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Lorelai called absentmindedly, thinking it was Mia. So, she was shocked to find Luke staggering in. He was hauling what looked like -
"Is that a crib?" she voiced aloud.
Luke's eyes sought out hers through the bars. "Ah, there you are! Mia said you'd be here." With a groan, he grandly deposited the crib in whatever large enough floor space was available. "I, uh... I found this up in the attic of the diner. It was mine... forgot my father even kept it..."
Lorelai stared at him, her eyes filling with tears. Luke had saved both of their lives, and now he was providing a place for her baby to sleep? What next? Besides that, he hardly knew her!
Her gaze must have unnerved Luke, for he glanced away. "Also..." and he slung the backpack off of his shoulders. "I brought some... bottles. Milk. It's been heated... for her..."
Luke jumped when Lorelai touched his hand. "Thank you, Luke. You've been... amazing."
Luke grinned, and... no... was he blushing? Couldn't be; she was just imagining it. "Mia... will she feed you gals?" he asked suddenly.
Lorelai blinked at the question. "It would be more than I could hope for; she's already been so generous. But, I would hope so."
"Well, if you need anything, come to the diner at anytime. Within hours," he added, and Lorelai laughed.
"Sure. Good night, Luke."
"Good night, Lorelai." Luke paused at the door, staring down at Rory in her booster seat. "Night, little lady."
Rory burped up spittle by means of gratitude.
After Luke had left, Lorelai picked Rory up and placed her gently in the crib. Digging through one suitcase, she found things like the baby's blanket, a mobile, a teeny stuffed bear. Swaddling Rory in the blanket as tightly as she could, Lorelai shivered. The potting shed didn't do much to keep out the winter's chill... maybe she could ask Mia if there was a way to make a fire, or create some system of heating...
Gently rocking the crib back and forth, Lorelai sang her daughter to sleep:
"Hush, little baby, don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring..."
3 Years Later
Lorelai hurried into Luke's Diner while on her lunch break from the Inn. She practically threw herself on the counter, ignoring the funny look Luke gave her.
"Coffee, please!"
"Calm down," Luke warned gently, even as he filled her a cup.
"Should I call the preschool? What if she misses me? What if she's crying? What if none of the other kids want to play with her?"
"Calm down..." Luke repeated.
"And I still have to get back to the Inn and clean the second floor by 3:00..."
"Lorelai!" Luke almost barked. "I need you to relax. I'm sure Rory's fine. And you'll get those rooms done in time! Didn't Mia say you clocked in a new record?"
"3 hours and 26 minutes. For one floor," Lorelai regurgitated self-deprecatingly, before taking a swig from her mug.
Her Motorola DynaTac 8000X portable phone suddenly rang.
"Oh, hell! That's probably Mia. Something must be wrong!" Lorelai groused as she picked up. "Hello?"
"Is this Lorelai Gilmore?"
"This is she." Wait... she knew that voice... "Dad?"
"It is you! Emily! Emily, I found her! I found her number!" Richard sounded almost manic in his glee. "Lorelai, where the hell are you, young lady?"
Lorelai gulped. She decided to tell her parents the truth. "I'm in a little town called Stars Hollow. About 40 minutes from Hartford."
"My God, Emily! She was right under our noses and we've been searching for three years! We're coming to get you right now. Be sure to have the Nissan ready -"
"Dad! The Nissan is totaled! I crashed it. And no, I'm not going back with you. I can't! I have a job; Rory's now in school! I'm staying here. This is our home!"
Voices went to war on the other end, as Emily was no doubt grappling for the phone with her husband. "Richard, let me talk to her. Honey, don't be ridiculous! Don't worry about the damages to the Nissan; we'll pay! But we are coming to get you and Rory..."
"No!" Lorelai snapped, her rage fueling as she remembered the stifling life she had left behind. "Don't come find me. Don't call me. After what you tried to make me do for you - we're done!" She clicked the receiver so hard, she nearly crushed it. Lorelai surprised even herself when she broke down in tears at the counter. She felt Luke lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Are you sure you did the right thing, Lorelai?"
The young hotel maid focused her tear-blurred vision on the countertop. "Yes. Yes, I did."
That very same night, Lorelai carried 4-year-old Rory into the Diner. Mother and daughter took their standard table, right by the front door. Legs dangling from her seat, Rory was chattering on and on about her day - contrary to her mother's belief, she had fallen in love with school.
"... And then, Mrs. Roberts read us a story about a frog who gets turned into a prince..."
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Rory, but we don't serve frog legs at Luke's Diner!" Luke teased as he sauntered over to the Gilmore girls' table, pad in hand.
Rory wrinkled her tiny nose. "Frogs? For dinner? Ewwww..."
Luke laughed. "I'm guessing the usual?" His gaze shifted to Lorelai.
"Chicken tenders for her. Burgers for me," the young mother confirmed.
"Coming right up!" Within minutes, the food was back. Lorelai dug for her checkbook, but Luke stayed her hand.
"No," he whispered. "On me tonight. I know you're saving up."
Lorelai smiled gratefully. Though she felt guilty about not being allowed to pay - at least she could now, when she had once been broke not too long ago - she knew Luke was right. She was saving up for a house, so she and Rory could move out of the potting shed.
"Come off it, Luke! That's like, what, the third time she's eaten here free in a week? Little baby mama looking for a handout..." The call came from a table across the diner, where some truckers were seated. Lorelai knew this particular bunch - Stars Hollow being a passing-through mark on their routes, they often frequented this establishment.
Lorelai glowered. Sure, she was still what one might consider poor, or at least lower-middle class. But by no means was she looking for a handout, had ever even asked for one! And especially not from Luke. She was about to say all this and more, but Luke jumped in.
"Leave her alone, Stephen! She's still trying to get on her feet."
"Yeah, but judging by the bastard brat she's constantly dragging around, she wasn't always 'on her feet'..." Stephen leered at Lorelai, his sexually suggestive comments hanging in the air of the now-silent diner like thick smoke. Rory burrowed into her seat, her bottom lip quivering at the reference to her as a 'bastard brat.'
Luke towered up to his full height. "You talk about Rory like that again, I'm going to have to ask you all to leave!"
"Why?" Stephen shrugged. "What is she to you, Danes? She's not your kid!"
"She's as good as my kid!" Luke bit back. "You see her father anywhere in the picture?"
That shut the truckers up real quick. Lorelai buried her face back in her burger, pausing only to meet Rory's squeamish gaze. The young mother felt touched by Luke's declaration that he considered Rory as good as his child. And why wouldn't he feel that way? He fed both of them often enough. Roughly half their meals were eaten in this place because its prices were so cheap; the rest of their food they got at the Inn.
The truckers paid and left not long after. Lorelai ate slowly, ruminating on her trials and life; by the time she finished, Rory had fallen asleep in her chair. Lorelai gathered her things, accepting Rory into her arms from where Luke passed the child off.
"Get some sleep," Luke told her.
"Thank you, Luke. For everything. See you for lunch tomorrow."
2 Years Later
Lorelai didn't miss cleaning the Inn's rooms. Sure it had been physical, rewarding work, but earning a change in pace - and change in pay - had been nice.
By now, Lorelai was a regular fixture at the Independence Inn. Her extroverted, bubbly personality had endeared her to guests. And Mia Bass had taken notice. When the Assistant Manager of the inn had retired, Mia promoted Lorelai to fill the post. At only 22, the age when most college graduates entered the workforce, Lorelai Gilmore now ruled the Independence Inn, second only to Mia.
The increase in pay also helped Lorelai in her dream to buy a proper house. Her savings account was getting close to an amount worthy of an initial asking price, but was not quite there yet. On her hours off, Lorelai would drive the Jeep Wrangler (which she had managed to purchase soon after her promotion) around Stars Hollow, examining the three or four houses that were for sale. There was on in particular - on Maple Street at the edge of town - that Lorelai had taken a liking too. But she couldn't afford it just yet... and if it sold before she could make an offer...
One day, Mia stopped by to chat as Lorelai was working the front desk.
"How's Rory?"
"As angelic as ever." Lorelai smiled as she thought of her 6-year-old.
"First grade now, right?"
"Don't remind me; I still can't believe it! Next thing you know, she'll be wearing a prom dress to Show-and-Tell!"
"Have you found a house yet?" Mia continued. It was an unnecessary question; Mia knew all about Lorelai's house hunting. Indeed, the inn manager's voice lowered. "The place on Maple Street: is it still...?"
"Yes, but I don't know for how much longer. It'll be another two months at least until I have enough to make an offer."
"Why not make an offer today?" Mia smiled widely, before presenting Lorelai with an envelope. Lorelai's eyes bulged.
"Mia... No..."
"Oh, hush. Think of it as a birthday present. It's next week, isn't it?" Her grin grew. "Go. I'll cover for you."
Beaming, Lorelai gave her a crushing hug before sprinting out of the Inn, and all the way down to Maple Street.
The owners at Number 37 must have been shocked to find a college-aged youth on their porch, offering to buy their house. Nevertheless, Lorelai focused on all the legal framework and the contracts. By the time she needed to leave and pick Rory up from school, the house was hers.
Lorelai and Rory moved in at 37 Maple Street the very next week. Luke helped shuttle their belongings from the potting shed in his truck. The potting shed that had been the girls' home for five years.
Following Year
Late Summer, 1992. Lorelai waited outside Miss Patty's School of Ballet to pick Rory up from her class. A rising second-grader, her daughter would be - amazingly - turning 8 in a matter of weeks.
When Rory finally emerged from the barn that had been converted into a ballet school, Lorelai instantly sensed that something was wrong. "Sweetheart, what happened?"
Rory glanced up into the rearview mirror, revealing her tear-streaked face. "I messed up on my Grand Jetes! And the other girls made fun of me! I'm no good at ballet, Mom; I don't wanna do it anymore!"
Lorelai sighed as she put the car in drive. "Well, I'll talk to Miss Patty tomorrow. There's gotta be something you want to do as a hobby!" Damn it if Rory wasn't the most gifted child she had ever known. A little biased perhaps, especially from a parent, but it was true. She was so smart, inquisitive, mature for her age - there had to be something in which her daughter could put those skills to use.
Evening fell as the Jeep Wrangler pulled up to the house on Maple Street. Rory ran ahead of Lorelai as her mother unlocked the front door; the little girl deposited her dance bag and backpack in the kitchen before retreating to the living room.
"Friday night. Wanna watch some T.V., Rory?" Lorelai called as she rounded the corner. Stopping, she smiled as she saw Rory was way ahead of her, on the couch and remote in hand, waiting for her command. Lorelai nodded, and Rory clicked the remote.
A woman with flowing black hair and tannish-skin appeared on the screen. "Recent polls out of Gallup show Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton ahead of President George Bush in the presidential race. The Democratic nominee registers at 52% of likely voters to the President's 42%..."
Rory sat up straighter on the couch. She had always enjoyed listening to the news on the presidential election these past several months. Yet, on this particular night, the little girl was more drawn to the reporter on the screen.
"Who's that, Mom?"
Lorelai craned her neck to get a better view from where she was still standing in the doorway. Before she could answer, the reporter said: "I'm Christiane Amanpour. CNN. Little Rock, Arkansas."
Lorelai chuckled. "I guess there's your answer, Rory." Silence. "Rory?" Lorelai turned to see the little girl deep in thought. After a moment, she smiled.
"Mom, I wanna be like Chirstiane Amanpour when I grow up. I wanna be a reporter, and be on T.V.!"
Lorelai laughed and cuddled Rory close to her on the couch. "Well, I guess we just found your new hobby, then! But you'll have to do really well in school first. Go to college..."
"College? Where? Where did Christiane Amanpour go to college?" Rory wanted to know.
Lorelai was uncertain of the answer, but she tried to think back to anything she might have heard in the news, or read in the library. "Harvard, I think."
"Then, that's where I want to go!" Rory announced proudly.
"All right, Doogie," Lorelai whispered. "Time for bed." She kissed Rory on the forehead, and watched as her little girl scampered upstairs to her room. A journalist? Really? Well, if that's what Rory wanted to be, then Lorelai would support her. Every step of the way.
Four Years Later
Winter was always the hardest season for Lorelai. It was a solemn reminder of another year having passed since she ran away from home.
Had 11 moons really passed since that time? Since she had fled Hartford with a helpless child, while still a child herself?
Rory was now only just 12, still navigating the challenges of middle school. And Lorelai was still navigating the challenges of being Assistant Manager at the Inn.
One Saturday in early December 1996 - President Bill Clinton had recently crushed Bob Dole in a successful bid for re-election - Lorelai was doing dishes at home, taking advantage from a day off at the Inn. Middle of the afternoon. Rory would be out of school soon. Just then, the phone rang. Recognizing the number, Lorelai picked up.
"Mia?"
"Lorelai? I need you to come up to the Inn right away!"
Lorelai tried not to groan as she glanced at the clock. "Mia, I don't know if I can... Rory gets out of school in 25 minutes..."
"This will be quick, I promise you!"
Lorelai sighed. "I'll be there in a few." Quick or not, she knew that Mia's estimation of how long things take was usually... conservative, at best. So thinking, Lorelai immediately dialed Luke's number at the Diner.
"Luke? It's Lorelai. Mia's called me to the Inn. It's urgent. But Rory is gonna be done soon..."
"Say no more. I'll go get her. Want me to watch her at the diner for a little while?"
"You're a lifesaver, Luke! Thanks!" Lorelai hung up, and raced to the inn.
A crowd had gathered in the front lobby by the time Lorelai arrived. A podium had been set up, with local news cameras trained on it from the back of the room. Soon after Lorelai squeezed her way into the Inn, Mia Bass stepped up to the podium.
"Good afternoon. I have a brief announcement to make: I have been running the Independence Inn for over 20 years. It has been a labor of love for me, but now I realize I must turn the page to a new chapter. Entrust someone else with the running of this establishment. Today, I am thrilled to announce Assistant Manager Lorelai Gilmore as my successor."
The room burst into applause, turning to congratulate the stunned Lorelai.
"She has served me faithfully over the last decade or so, and I know she will care for this Inn as much as I have."
Lorelai took the podium in a daze, thanking Mia and accepting her new position, effective after the first of the year. Mia would still be the owner of the Inn, but all its decisions were now up to the mere 27-year-old.
It wasn't until Lorelai was back in her car that she screamed with joy.
By the time Lorelai burst into Luke's Diner, Rory was at the counter, eating a chicken sandwich and milkshake.
"You fed her a snack, too? You're the best!" Lorelai praised Luke. Then she excitedly told him of her promotion. Luke seemed genuinely happy for her.
"Already at the top of your game, and you're not even thirty! Congratulations, Lorelai."
October 8th, 1998. 4:03 AM
The night was still as Lorelai stole into her daughter's bedroom. The digital clock on the nightstand read a few minutes after four in the morning. Tenderly, Lorelai kissed Rory's forehead, waking her.
"Happy Birthday, little girl," she whispered.
Rory turned over underneath the covers and blearily smiled. "Hey."
Lorelai climbed into bed with her. Nothing need be said as to why she was there at this time of night; it was tradition by now. The elder Gilmore sighed. "I can't believe how fast you're growing up."
"Really? It feels slow."
"Mmm-mmm. Trust me, it's fast. What do you think of your life so far?"
Rory shrugged. "I think it's pretty good," she answered meekly.
"Any complaints?"
"I'd like it if the house wasn't so humid," Rory offered up.
"I'll work on that," her mother laughed. A pretty picky complaint, but easily fixable.
"Do I look old enough to walk into Denny's and get a discount?" Rory suddenly queried out of the blue.
"Only if you get in there before five," Lorelai quipped. A pause, and then: "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think you're a great, cool kid, and the best friend a girl could have."
"Back at ya."
"I mean it." Lorelai pressed a kiss to Rory's forehead. "It's practically disgusting, how much I love you."
"Tell me about it," Rory sighed.
Lorelai grinned in marvel. "And it's so hard to believe... that at exactly this time, many moons ago, I was lying in exactly the same position."
Rory huffed. "Oh boy. Here we go. The reason you woke me up in the middle of the night."
The Birthday Speech had become a custom in the Gilmore household. At precisely 4:03 AM every October 8th, Lorelai would wake Rory up and regale her with the story of her birth. The main themes were always the same; it was the wording and humor that changed, leaving Rory with no idea what to expect.
"Only I had a huge, fat stomach and big, fat ankles, and I was swearing like a sailor..."
"On leave," Rory interjected. OK, so maybe there was some phrasing that stayed uniform from telling to telling.
"On leave! That's right! And there I was..."
"In labor..." Rory yawned.
"And while some have called it the most meaningful experience of your life, to me it was akin to doing the splits. On a crate of dynamite."
"Hmm. Never heard that simile before," Rory mused. Her mother's poetic descriptions of bringing her into the world always morphed, year after year, usually varying in their refinement or finesse. For example, akin to squeezing a watermelon between one's legs, perhaps. Or pushing out a bowling ball one has 'accidentally' swallowed.
"...And I was screaming and swearing, and being surrounded as I was by hundreds of doctors, I just assumed there was an actual function for the cup of ice chips they gave me."
"Were there really that many doctors?" Rory frowned, amused and skeptical of what had to be an exaggeration.
"Well, maybe I overshot," Lorelai conceded. "And no, there was no use for the ice chips. But pelting the nurses sure was fun!"
Rory nestled into her mother's chest. "I love you, Mom," she mumbled sleepily.
"Oh, don't fall back now! We're getting to the best part, when you started crowning..."
And Lorelai blabbered on until she too had fallen asleep right beside her precious child.