Thanks everyone, so much, for all the reviews. I was afraid I'd keep people away when I used Paul Anka as the voice behind the prologue, so thanks for proving me wrong :)
And thanks to llano for helping out again.
January 17, 2007
"Luke!"
Luke's jaw tightened involuntarily as he braced for whatever else would be coming in Babette's piercing, raspy voice. Kirk had already been bothering him, about bagels — yet again — all morning; the last thing he needed to hear was whatever inane point Babette was going to toss out there.
"Ain't that little Paul Anka out there," Babette hollered, "Lorelai's dog? These contacts, I tell ya, I can't see nothin' right!"
"What?" The word slipped involuntarily from Luke's mouth, his confusion over such an apparent non-sequitur reigning over his normal stoic front. The generally tactless busybodies of Stars Hollow had been unexpectedly careful in avoiding mention of Lorelai around him for nearly eight months now, so the sudden deviation from the norm threw him a little.
Gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, Babette rasped an elaboration, "Out there, just sittin' in the snow, the poor thing."
Luke's eyes followed Babette's indication, coming to rest on the shaggy visitor just outside the diner window. He hadn't seen Paul Anka in months, but it sure as hell looked like the mess of white and gray that he remembered. And judging by what Luke could swear was a tail wag of recognition upon meeting the dog's gaze, it was more than likely the one and only Dog Paul Anka.
Apparently seeing that recognition mirrored in Luke's face, Babette inquired loudly, "Want me to go get him?"
"No," Luke sighed wearily, "I got it." The last thing he really wanted to deal with was the grand production it would turn into if Babette went out to get the dog, cutesy voices and everything. It was just easier to deal with it himself. Setting down the two plates he'd been carrying, Luke quickly wiped his hands and ducked out of the diner into the snow.
Wincing as the cold pierced his well-worn flannel shirt, Luke shielded his eyes from the blowing snow and regarded Paul Anka. No leash to be seen, either on the dog, or abandoned anywhere else that Luke could discern. He quickly scanned the streets and the square, sure that he'd see Lorelai, absent leash in hand, trotting after the dog in footwear entirely inappropriate for both dog walking and winter in New England.
But even after waiting there in the biting wind for a few moments, she was nowhere to be seen. It struck Luke as odd, seeing as how fervent Lorelai's adoration for the mutt was. Since she'd gotten the damn dog, he didn't think he'd seen Paul Anka this far from the house without Lorelai. Surely she'd be just behind him, he surmised.
However, Luke was not about to stand around outside in January waiting for that theory to be proven. Nor, he supposed could he really let the stupid dog sit outside alone any longer. It would just end up running away, if it didn't freeze to death first.
Eyeing the dog — who had yet to make any motion toward him — warily, shaking his head slightly as himself. Leave it to Luke Danes to be freezing his ass off in the snow, trying to take care of Lorelai's stupid dog. It was one thing when it was his chocolate that had damn near killed the thing; at least he and Lorelai been together then. Now? Now the dog was out in the cold, arguably in danger, more than likely as a result of Lorelai's carelessness. She'd probably just left the door open or something, Luke glowered inwardly, growing ever more annoyed and aggravated by the situation. She'd probably been too busy playing happy family with that asshole and his kid to even notice that her once-prized dog had run out the door on his own.
"You coming?" Luke snapped, directing at Paul Anka the sudden rush of anger he felt.
Paul Anka, however, was unperturbed, merely lifting a paw in Luke's direction.
Another sigh on Luke's part, and a few muttered expletives were enough to cover the three short strides it took to reach Paul Anka. "Ridiculous," Luke huffed, leaning down to scoop up the dog, "Ridiculous."
The pair was back in the diner in no time, and Luke made sure to send menacing glares in the direction of Babette, Kirk, and anyone else who dared make eye contact with him. Though he hadn't asked for the unofficial moratorium on all speak of Lorelai in the diner, he'd come to appreciate it and didn't exactly want the damn dog to be the cause of its undoing.
All the while mentally cursing his ex-fiancée's lapse in canine care, Luke ascended the stairs to his apartment, setting Paul Anka down on the floor in the kitchen. As much as he may have wanted to then just leave the dog sitting there, call Lorelai and just get the whole thing over with, Paul Anka just looked so pathetic, shivering and damp, the snow matted to his fur falling off and creating little puddles around his paws, that even Luke couldn't just ignore him. So he grabbed one of his older towels from the linen closet and began drying the dog off. Not as gently as he could have, but he took care of him nonetheless, and even began eyeing his refrigerator, thinking Paul Anka could be hungry, wondering if he had any eggs up there so scramble up for him.
That is, until his feeble attempts to get all the snow from Paul Anka's tangled coat were interrupted by a sudden clattering of silverware downstairs, a few unintelligible shouts from Babette, and a general buzz of sudden commotion.
Paul Anka would have to wait, Luke's instinct determined. Abandoning both the dog and his intentions of calling Lorelai immediately, he quickly dashed back downstairs.
It was a number of hours later when Luke, still downstairs, finally remembered that he had a furry guest in his apartment; it was only when he caught a glimpse of a Lorelai-shaped blur dashing past the diner windows that he remembered he was to have called her a long time ago.
Dropping the rag he'd been using to wipe up a small spill at the counter, Luke rushed outside, calling out the name he now rarely uttered, once so integral to his vocabulary. "Lorelai!" he shouted into the wind, "Lorelai!"
She heard him on the second yell; he knew immediately. For as long as it had been since they were much of anything to each other, Luke could still see the discomfort taking over her body as she realized that it was him calling out to her. He saw her tense, her hurried pace slowing as she physically prepared herself for the confrontation to follow. To be honest, Luke wouldn't have expected any less; given that this would be barely more than the fifth time they'd been near each other since the horrible, horrible argument — in pretty much the exact same spot to boot — that had sent both their worlds tumbling off axis, he wasn't exactly looking forward to dealing with her either. Apparently the discomfort was greater on her part, however. Not even turning around to face him, she stumbled over the reason for her rush, picking her pace back up even as she spoke. "Luke, I- I can't. I have to find Paul Anka!"
And she was off and running. Literally. Which, considering the fact that Paul Anka was upstairs and she certainly wasn't going to find him anywhere she looked outside, served only to revive in Luke the simmering feelings of unwarranted animosity upon discovering the stupid dog unsupervised in the first place.
"Lorelai!" he bellowed again.
Not even bothering to face him as she brushed him off, Lorelai spluttered over the beginnings of her weak, albeit valid, excuse. "I have to-"
Simmering, Luke was fed up with Lorelai's evasion techniques. To be honest, he was fed up with himself for this sudden rush of irrational anger towards her, but that was neither here nor there; he was still rather exasperated with her. "I have him!" he shouted, "Lorelai, he's here!
Lorelai froze immediately, stammering, "He- You what?"
In spite of himself, Luke had to crack a grin at her response. For all her resolve to avoid him, he'd still gotten the upper hand. Thanks to the stupid dog. With a smug smirk still visible on his face, he explained rather nonchalantly, "Paul Anka. He's upstairs."
"You have…" Lorelai's jaw dropped in surprise. "He's ok?"
Luke nodded, purposefully reserved lest he appear any more invested in the exchange that he should have been as a slightly embittered ex-fiancé. "He's fine," he added curtly, forcing the slight grin from his face.
And suddenly, despite those efforts to remain emotionally detached, he found himself swept up in a whirlwind of Lorelai, ambushed by the scents of vanilla body lotion, apple shower gel, lavender-and-something perfume, 'especially-for-kinda-curly-hair' shampoo and conditioner, masqueraded-by-altoids coffee breath — that combination so uniquely her — as Lorelai threw herself at him in an embrace of gratitude. "Oh my God," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck, "Thank you!"
Rattled by the sudden physical contact — after months of none — Luke stiffened in her embrace. "He's up-" he stammered, brusquely placing his hands on Lorelai's hips and pushing her away. Not able to bring himself to look at her, he dropped his gaze to the snow dampening his jeans around the ankles. "Go up," he ordered lamely.
If Lorelai was at all shaken by the confrontation, Luke couldn't tell. Without another glance in his direction, she dashed away from him immediately, racing into the diner and up the stairs, calling out for the dog. "Paul Anka? Paul Anka, Mommy's here…" Her voice rang out through the diner below, eliciting more than one questioning stare at Luke from customers when he emerged in from the snow. He ignored them, following behind Lorelai, taking the stairs two at a time.
He reached the apartment just in time to find Lorelai zeroing in on Paul Anka cowering in a corner. "Oh, hey you, there you are," she squealed, throwing herself on the floor next to the mutt, "Hey you." Pulling the dog onto her lap, cuddling him to her, she murmured into Paul Anka's fur. "Don't you ever run away from me like that again, you. Ok? Ok? You scared me." Luke could just barely make out the words as she spoke softly, but he recognized the tearful hitch in her voice.
For seconds, minutes — he didn't actually know how long — Luke just stood there. What else could he do? The lingering anger over Lorelai's irresponsibility in letting Paul Anka get out faded, only to be replaced by a soft, dull ache in his chest as he watched her sniffle into the dog's shaggy coat. He wanted so much to be able to sweep her up and reassure her that the dog was fine, she was fine, they were fine.
But that was hardly the case, now was it, he forced himself to remember. He no longer had that right. She had another man's ring on her finger, and he no longer had a place in her life. At least until her stupid dog found itself outside his diner.
The complex interplay of bitter animosity, ghosts of affection that he'd long since tried to bury, and the residual shock from Lorelai's overzealous embrace of gratitude on the street left Luke at a loss for exactly what to do or say. In the few short moments she'd been there, she'd managed to make him feel an intruder in his own apartment, no longer privy to her life.
So there he stood, his hands shoved in his pockets, mute as he watched Lorelai rock Paul Anka with an emotional zeal he hadn't really expected, and to be honest, was a little baffled by.
Still she said nothing. Didn't even acknowledge that he was there at all.
When Luke could stand it no longer, he took a few hesitant steps forward. Leaning awkwardly down in Lorelai's direction he repeated his words from down on the street — the only reassurance he felt comfortable in offering. "Hey, he's fine. He's okay."
Finally seeming to zero back in on the fact that she wasn't alone, Lorelai tilted her head up to face him, staring wide-eyed as if she'd never seen him before.
With nothing to feed off from her, Luke stammered, words falling rather ineloquently from his mouth. "It's getting kind of late, so he might be hungry," he blurted out, "I was going to try and get him some scrambled eggs earlier, since I know he likes those-"
"Earlier?" Lorelai's sudden inquiry startled Luke, even more so when she continued with a rather accusing tone, "How long has he been here?"
Floundering, Luke searched for words. "Uh, I don't know," he shrugged. And annoyed at the apologetic sound his voice had taken on, he added vaguely, disinterestedly, "A couple hours maybe?"
Practically shoving Paul Anka off her lap, Lorelai sprang to life, "A couple hours?" She scrambled to her feet, yelping, "You had him all this time and you didn't think you should let me know? I've been looking all over the place for him!"
"Hey!" Luke cried in his own defense, "I was going to! Of course I was going to," he snarled, sick of letting her still get to him. "I was going to call you right away, but I barely had time to even get him up here. Lane went into labor today," he explained, adding sardonically, "so things were a little hectic."
Lorelai's face softened immediately, and her eyes lit up with excitement. "Aw, she did?"
"Yeah, her water broke," Luke confirmed gruffly, "but the C-section wasn't supposed to be until next week, so we had to deal with stuff downstairs." Gesturing to Paul Anka, who was still sitting patiently where Lorelai had dumped him, shrugged, "I figured at least he was safe up here."
"Right. Yeah. Good," Lorelai smiled sheepishly. With a roll of her eyes, she threw in a good-natured jab, "Never mind that I was having a heart attack…" Her voice faded when Luke met her eyes; he figured his expression alone was enough to remind her that that kind of good-natured jab didn't exactly belong in their relationship any longer.
When her gaze dropped remorsefully to the floor, it was all Luke could do to fight off his instinctual damage control mode. Once again, he fought the onslaught of different emotions he was feeling as settled on a perfunctory apology. "I'm sorry," he declared stoically, "I actually figured you didn't even know he was out. I thought the only way he'd be on his own was if he just got out of the house himself."
After intentionally keeping his words as reserved as possible, Luke was surprised to see Lorelai grow even more squirmy. He saw her tense and shift on her feet as her gaze darted about the room. "No, I was home, he…" Tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, she spat an explanation in a manner not unlike ripping off a Band-Aid quickly. "Uh, I was getting ready to take him for a walk anyway and, um, Chris was leaving to get Gigi at school. He grabbed this one toy that makes noise and freaked Paul Anka out, so he took off out the front door when it was open. I've been looking for him for hours."
Of course. The asshole. That explained Lorelai's abrupt demeanor shift, Luke glowered inwardly. Wouldn't want to hurt poor Luke's feelings… Despite himself, Luke's curiosity got the best of him. Well, that and his overwhelming disdain for all things Christopher. "He didn't help look?" he demanded, his face twisting in disgust.
Lorelai offered lamely, "He had to get Gigi…"
"And after?" Luke prodded accusingly.
Luke could sense Lorelai's defenses rising as she replied, rather indignantly, "They're at his Mom's place for dinner. Their version of Friday night dinner."
That surprised Luke. The fact that Lorelai wasn't at the dinner, anyway. Once upon a time, he himself had fully expected to be roped into every weekly Gilmore dinner once they got married. "How'd you get out of that?" he questioned, sincerely wondering how a similar fate could be escaped when it was two Hartford elite families and not just one.
"I don't go on Wednesdays," Lorelai sighed. Obviously a well-worn subject for her, she lay off the snippiness and just shrugged in defeat, "Francine never liked me much, and I have to say the feeling is mutual."
"Even though you two…" The beginning of the question slipped from Luke's mouth before he even realized he'd never be able to bring himself to speak the words to finish it.
Lorelai nodded. "Yeah," she confirmed darkly, staring off into space, "Even though."
Luke had no reply for that; what could one say at the first inkling that maybe your ex-fiancée's present marriage was just a teensy bit less happily-ever-after-fairytale than it was supposed to have been?
It was Lorelai who finally broke the awkward silence, muttering softly as she beckoned Paul Anka over to her. "God, I can't believe you had him," she mused aloud. Looking back up at Luke as she crouched down to scratch the dog's head, she spoke, her eyes wide and earnest, "Thank you so much, Luke."
As always, never completely comfortable receiving praise, Luke shrugged bashfully. "No problem," he replied. "He just showed up outside, and when I didn't see you, I figured I'd go get him. Then Lane…" Luke trailed off, interrupted by what sounded like a soft sniffle from down near the floor. He peered down at Lorelai and immediately recognized the slight shudder of her back as she buried her face in Paul Anka's fur to be her feeble attempt at not letting him see that she was crying again.
His first instinct, again, was to envelop her in his arms and just hold her until those tears faded. Again, no longer an option. But short of that, Luke had no idea how to proceed. Even before — before before - that was the modus operandi. But now? Now what? As much as he may have wanted to be immune to those tears, it was Lorelai. No matter what happened, no matter how much he wanted to hate her and what had happened, she was still Lorelai.
He took a slight step in her direction, reaching one arm towards her, but balked, his hand lingering in mid-air. Quickly shoving the wayward hand into his pocket, he ventured a cautious "You ok?" instead.
Apparently startled by the sudden concern in Luke's voice, Lorelai jumped and sniffled loudly as she turned back around, furiously wiping her eyes before fully facing him. "Yeah, I just…" She choked on her words, more tears escaping as she bit her lip. "I thought I lost him, I…"
Her words dissolved into silence as Luke looked on helplessly, baffled. He'd expected her to be happy to see the stupid dog, not practically have a breakdown in the middle of his apartment floor. When she'd gotten overly emotional last year over Paul Anka's
'shoe-moving' ailment, Luke had known it was 90 Rory and only 10 dog that had brought on the tears. But now? Now he knew nothing, and it was making him damn uncomfortable.
All Luke could do this time could do was try to somehow get the 'conversation', as it were, moving again. He opted for awkwardly stating the obvious, "He's ok..."
"I know, I know, I…" Lorelai replied hurriedly, brushing away her tears. She pulled herself to her feet and, looking rather sheepish, said quietly, "Thank you."
A feeling of unease settled over Luke when, upon speaking those words, Lorelai's gaze met his. He couldn't say 'You're welcome.' She wasn't welcome to pull this anymore. He couldn't come to the rescue anymore; it was too hard. In the short span of time since finding that ridiculous dog downstairs, and especially since catching that glimpse of Lorelai running by not ten minutes ago, he'd been sent through the emotional wringer. He couldn't make sense of up from down, had no idea where he stood in the internal battle between spiteful hatred over what she'd done in sleeping with that asshole and the devotion he'd always felt simply because she was Lorelai.
So he said nothing.
It must have readily become apparent to Lorelai that he wasn't planning on saying anything. He saw her face fall slightly; her gaze dropped from his not long after. In a sudden flurry of activity, she was readjusting her coat, corralling Paul Anka, and gesturing to the door with a vaguely miffed-sounding "I should…"
Luke wasn't one to protest her leaving, but seeing the befuddled look on her face as she paused by the door, likely debating how to get Paul Anka home without the leash she hadn't had the foresight to bring, he sighed. "Wait. I'll drive you home," he offered, exasperation tingeing his voice only slightly. He managed to convince himself it was actually an act of self-preservation lest the dog get away during his short walk home with Lorelai and end up at the diner again, starting the whole vicious cycle over again.
"You don't have to-" Lorelai protested immediately.
"Or you want coffee?" Luke interrupted, though where this particular offer had come from, he had no idea. But still the words kept coming, "You're freezing. Calm down, warm up, and I'll drive you both home."
Given that even Luke himself had no idea where the offer had stemmed from, he could understand Lorelai's reaction. He could tell she tried to hide it, but there was no masking her surprise when her voice jumped an octave to utter a shaky "Really?"
Luke couldn't exactly rescind, so he simply shrugged. "Why not?"
"You sure?" Lorelai asked once more, her eyebrows raised in skepticism.
Already heading for the closet in which he'd tossed the coffeemaker he'd kept in his kitchen for the tenure of their relationship, Luke pulled a chair from the table as he passed by. "Sit," he instructed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lorelai pause and watch in wonder as Paul Anka took the command to heart and plopped his rear end down on the floor. Only then did she make her way cautiously to the table. Sitting stiffly, she offered a feeble "Thanks" when Luke passed by, Mr. Coffee in hand.
Luke didn't know any better than Lorelai how to proceed with what was shaping up to be painfully awkward conversation. More painful for him, even, as it was his sudden attempt at polite hospitality that had kept her in his apartment this long in the first place. He was at a loss for what had compelled him to ask her to stay; it certainly wasn't because he was feeling all warm and fuzzy. So instead of replying to Lorelai's meek display of gratitude, he languished in the verbal chasm between them and stoically went about preparing the coffee.
He startled a few moments later when Lorelai finally spoke up. "It looks…" she began.
Placing the pot in the path of the drip, Luke, curious as to why she'd trailed off, turned around to find her scanning the room, taking in the array Target stuff April had scattered around the apartment.
Another moment and Lorelai finished her thought, sounding ever-so careful to keep any sort of emotion from her words: "…colorful… in here."
"April's doing," Luke explained, matching Lorelai's cautiously even tone.
That, of course, threatened to bring the conversation back to a stand-still, Lorelai uttering a single, dull "Oh" of realization as she glanced around the room again, wringing her hands together nervously.
The silence hung in the air just a breath too long for Luke to stand anymore, so gathering what composure he could, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, she, uh," he forced out, "had to stay here for a while, so we went 'shopping.'" He involuntarily added a bit of wry emphasis on his last word; a move which helped more than he might have thought it would.
Once he'd spoken in that mildly sarcastic tone, that one that would have begged for air quotes if it had been the other party in the room using it, Lorelai's eyes brightened ever so slightly. Luke just knew the mocking that would have been forthcoming under other circumstances. Before. Before, Lorelai surely would have found plenty to mock at the thought of Luke going 'shopping' with any female for all things decorative and girly.
To be sure, things weren't at all like 'Before,' but that didn't stop Lorelai from pursing her lips in mild amusement. "You voluntarily bought this stuff?" she inquired, lifting one eyebrow slightly.
"Of course," Luke replied, as if the notion wasn't quite as inconceivable as Lorelai made it out to be. Falling easily — more easily than he would have liked — into a semblance of their old rapport, he added with a raised eyebrow of his own, "We went to 'Tar-zhay.'"
"Well, look at you all knowledgeable consumer," Lorelai smirked in return. "I would have pushed a little harder to get rid of some of the brown if I ever thought it would work."
As quickly as the easy banter had grown comfortable and familiar, it was no match for the grinding halt to which the conversation came upon Lorelai's unintentional allusion to the many hours, days, nights, and long lazy mornings she'd spent there with him.
Luke stiffened at the mention, knowing that for all indications to the contrary, all she'd have had to do was ask. He'd gotten her the TV after only one mention; a little color from Target would have been no different. "Yeah…" he finally muttered, not really a response to anything, but not knowing what else to say.
The tense silence was back with a vengeance, interrupted only by intermittent gurgles from the coffee maker.
Obligation must have gotten the best of Lorelai, for despite the awkward lag in the conversation, not to mention the fact that the topic was something that had always been a sore spot, she piped up a few moments later, hesitantly venturing, "How is April?"
"Good," Luke replied after a moment. What else could he really say? He certainly wasn't going to launch into a narrative of the custody issues, or how April had been on a mission to set him up with her teachers, coaches, and whoever else happened to be female and single. In the end he didn't elaborate at all, merely repeating, "She's really good."
He could see Lorelai's gaze fixed on the far side of the room, substantially girlier than it had been when Jess had been the inhabitant. Still, he was surprised when she pressed the April topic further, wondering aloud, "So she's been staying here sometimes now?"
"Yeah, uh, sometimes," Luke stammered, half wanting someone to discuss the custody issue and the fact that April hadn't been visiting lately with, the other half knowing that Lorelai wasn't at all the person to do so with. In the absence of anything else to say on the topic, and feeling rather on-the-spot with Lorelai's gaze now back on him, he blurted out, "I'm not Luke anymore, I'm officially 'Dad.'"
"That's great, Luke," Lorelai breathed, in what appeared to be genuine happiness for him as her expression softened and her head tilted slightly to the side. "Congratulations."
Luke shrugged bashfully, fending off her slightly-too-close-for-comfort sincerity with a less than eloquent "Well…" as he reached for the coffee pot, now full enough to get her a cup.
Not that that stopped Lorelai from inquiring further, suddenly genuinely intent on catching up on all of Luke's relatives. "And Liz?" she asked, reaching for the mug Luke set down, "How's Doula?"
"Getting bigger," Luke replied candidly, having just seen his ever-growing niece just the other day. "I can't believe how big they get so fast."
Lorelai smiled, nodding in agreement. "I know, I can't believe Gigi's in kindergarten next ye-" She was already most of the way through the sentence before she caught herself. Her head dropped in shame as she suddenly seemed to find the coffee he'd just placed in front of her immensely interesting. Luke knew what was coming next even before her voice cracked and she uttered a stilted "Sorry, I-"
As much as the sudden mention of the asshole's kid — Lorelai's stepdaughter, actually, Luke realized absently — stung, "It's ok," automatically slipped from Luke's mouth.
"No, it's…" Lorelai started hurriedly, shaking her head as if scolding herself. She stood quickly, abandoning the coffee and herding Paul Anka over to the door, muttering apologetically as she did, "I should go."
Now Luke surely didn't want a full run-down of the kid's afternoon schedule, or be forced to look at her finger paintings or whatever, but he couldn't run away from a mere mention of her. It couldn't have hurt him anymore than speak of April had affected Lorelai, either today or last year — he had no right to keep Gigi out of any conversation he had, or might in the future have, with Lorelai. "Lorelai, it's fine," Luke insisted, with a vehemence that surprised himself.
The declaration stopped Lorelai in her tracks, and she whirled back around, biting her lip in an expression that said to Luke more clearly than any words could have, No, Luke, you know it's not fine.
But the more he heard himself repeat it in his head, the more Luke knew it actually was fine. It had to be. So he told her as much, reiterating, "It's fine."
The words kept Lorelai from continuing her urgent dash from the apartment, but the blatant skepticism on her face told Luke that she'd need more convincing.
What followed wasn't planned, not by a long shot. From that point on, Luke's brain seemed to run on auto-pilot, he himself having no control over what came out of his mouth — not an altogether unfamiliar feeling that afternoon.
He'd had never exactly been impulsive — case in point, the Let's-run-away-to-Maryland-and-elope!-No! fiasco that had them in this awkward situation in the first place — but that didn't stop him from cautiously seeking confirmation of one thing. "They go every Wednesday for dinner?" he asked, referring to the asshole and the kid.
"Yeah…" Lorelai confirmed hesitantly, obviously unsure of what Luke was getting at.
"And you take him out while they're gone?" he continued.
Lorelai nodded dumbly.
"Well," Luke shrugged, "when you walk him," he pointed down at Paul Anka, "you should stop by for coffee."
To be continued…
