2. Summer
Lorelai stared at the phone. For a moment it had felt like old times, but then they were drawn to The Fight like Luke to the sarlacc pit. Skywalker Luke. Her Luke, he'd start raking the sand and complaining they didn't build pits like they used to anymore. Anyway, was she really at fault here? What could she…
"Rise and shine, birthday girl!" Emily called from outside the door. "Breakfast is ready!"
"But mom!" Lorelai cried automatically.
"Excuse me?" said Emily.
So much for faking it. What would Rory say? "Coming, grandma!" she chirped.
"Much better," said Emily. "See you downstairs."
Lorelai groaned. The community service she could take, but having to deal with her parents was cruel and unusual. China chinked in the dining room as she walked down the stairs. The wave of deja vu was overwhelming. She couldn't do this. She would take the window exit. Rory's body was young, she'd just get it back with a little wear and tear…
"There's the birthday girl!" Emily called from the table.
Busted. "My, what big ears you have, grandma," she said, walking to the table.
"They're so I can love you better," said Emily, grinning wolfishly. "The grapefruit is delicious."
"I'm not really into…" Unless Rory had really changed that much?
"I'm joking," said Emily, "I asked the cook to make some of that diner food you love so much. Though with Lorelai's eating habits, I'm surprised you've managed to avoid scurvy."
"Oh, the captain hands out rotten oranges once a week," said Lorelai, eyeing the blueberry pancakes. "They pair really well with the rock biscuits and the whippings." Emily was getting soft: in her day they would've had a Great Grapefruit Argument, then she'd storm off and get pregnant. Well, not every day, but that was the spirit. And sure, maybe Rory's Teletubbie-baby-sun disposition had something to do with, but she didn't have the history they had. A stomach growl reminded her of the issue at hand. The pancakes weren't Luke's, but the whipped cream looked pretty good. Did this count as cheating? It was technically Rory's body...
"Richard?" said Emily.
"Hmm?" he replied from behind the newspaper.
"Rory's here," said Emily.
"Oh, happy birthday, Rory," said Richard, lowering the paper. "Twenty-one is a fine age to be. Why, when I was twenty-one I was back at… yes, well…" He returned to the paper.
"Don't mind him," said Emily, "he's been odd all week. What time should we leave for the DAR?"
"Right," Lorelai said over a mouthful of pancake. "The Burr thing."
"Vice President Burr," said Emily.
"Is it weird that his claim to fame is killing a Founding Father?" said Lorelai.
"I'm sure he must have had other accomplishments," said Emily.
"Such as?" said Lorelai, still chewing.
"Well... I'm sure he was decent duelist," said Emily.
"Sadly a dying art. Get it?" said Lorelai, grinning. "I thought I'd give it a skip, what with the party and everything."
"Give it a skip?" said Emily. "What will the others think?"
"That something came up," said Lorelai. "Like a birthday party."
"Honestly, Rory," said Emily, "there are times you remind me of…"
"She doesn't have to go," said Richard.
"What?" said Emily. "But the DAR…"
"The girl is twenty-one, Emily," said Richard. "She should be building towards something, not arranging fundraisers and tea parties. Lorelai was right, we should have supported her." He turned to Lorelai. "But then you showed up, and asked for help. How could we risk losing you like… like we lost her?" Richard got up. "I have a business call to make."
Emily moved up to Lorelai. "No matter what, you will always have a place in this house. Is that understood?"
Lorelai nodded, shaken.
"Good," said Emily. "I'll go talk to your grandfather."
#
Rory stormed around the kitchen at Lorelei height, in a very Hulk-smash mood (minus the indestructible purple shorts), opening and closing the same cupboards. Prepared food didn't magically appear, but she wasn't really paying attention. Why couldn't mom take her problems seriously? This wasn't some late onset teenage rebellion.
Paula Anka whimpered.
"Sorry, boy," said Rory, "I'm freaking you out. Looks like it'll have to be dog food or going out."
Paula Anka barked.
"Okay, okay, going out it is," said Rory. "If I can find something rhinestone-free to wear."
Rory walked out into the world, where people merrily went about their business in their usual bodies. There were Babette and Morey setting up the Halloween noose - classic!
"Hey guys!" waved Rory. "Long time no see!"
"Sure, hon," Babette said uncertainly. "Guess it's been some time since yesterday." She whispered loudly to Morey: "she's been really needy since the thing with You Know Who."
"Lord Voldemort?" said Morey.
Rory walked on, drinking in Stars Hollow in fall. She realized she'd been blocking it out, but the wave of orange leaves and spice washed her away. It was like mom had gotten everything in their divorce, and she'd gotten… well, her grandparents. And while yes, it was nice to have a roof over her head, it just didn't smell like this.
She walked into the diner and moved to a free table.
"Hey, honey," said Luke, balancing a tray. He leaned in as he moved past her and his face was getting really close and oh god he was coming in for a kiss and oh yeah this was mom's body and what had she said about first base but ew no this was Luke...
Rory dodged at the last second, smoother than Neo. "Sorry," she said, faking a cough as convincing as Keanu Reeves' acting. "I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe Ebola."
"Sure," Luke said skeptically. "You look different. Did you cut your hair?"
"Must be the rhinestones," said Rory. "They're all at… rhinestone cleaning?"
"What can I get you?"
"Banana pancake with chocolate syrup, please," Rory said brightly. How had she survived this long without one?
"I can whip up a blueberry one if you like," said Luke.
"Banana's fine," said Rory.
"Coming right up."
Rory let herself relax. Sure, she had no idea how to fix this. But she would soon have coffee and pancakes, and that was almost as good.
"Here you go," said Luke, pouring coffee.
"You're a lifesaver," said Rory, inhaling contentedly.
Luke sat across from her. He didn't lean in, so maybe the cough hadn't been that bad.
"That cough of yours was really bad," said Luke. "But I think I know what's going on here."
"I find that... unlikely," said Rory.
"I should have realized it sooner," said Luke. "The clothes, the pancakes…"
"What's wrong with the pancakes?" said Rory.
"You never order banana," said Luke. "But I know who does."
Argh, can't a girl eat at the same place for ten years without people learning what she likes? "Listen," said Rory, "it's not what you…"
Luke held her hand. "You're nervous about the party. It's okay. You've been practically jumping up and down ever since she called. What you two have, it's… I mean, I never… I'm not very good at these things."
"You're doing pretty good," said Rory, smiling.
"Yeah, well, hope the touchy-feely thing helped," said Luke, standing. "Try not to get any Ebola on my paying customers."
#
Lorelai surveyed the roadside in dismay. People in this community were pigs. They didn't deserve service, they deserved to wallow in their filth, like… like big fat stupid pigs. And yes, the sophistication of her insults did decrease with her righteous fury, so what? She had a few ideas what to do with the trash picker when she came across one of them. Then they'd lock her up in a proper prison, with proper jobs like breaking rocks and magically healing Tom Hanks' balls.
"You okay there, Gilmore?" asked the supervisor. "You're usually into your second bag by now."
"I don't know, Ted..." said Lorelai.
"John," corrected the supervisor.
"You ever have days you wonder what you're doing with your life?" said Lorelai. "Whether you should take the gamble and go pick up trash in California?"
"Right," said John. "Carry on, then."
Lorelai poked a wrapper with extreme prejudice. Of course Rory had be the top trash picker. She could be top anything she wanted. Which only made it more infuriating that she would throw it all away for… for what?"
"Hey, Ace."
She'd make a run for it. Let them slap however many more hours they wanted.
"Ace?" the blonde guy repeated, standing in her way.
"Hi there… Logan?" said Lorelai. Was this Logan, or were they still doing that open relationship thing? Well he better be, 'cause he was moving in for a kiss.
Lorelai stepped back and raised the trash picker. "Sorry, I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe Ebola."
"You're gonna stab me for my own good?" said probably-Logan, grinning.
"I'm very protective about very specific types of harm," said Lorelai.
"I think not bleeding from all your pores is a good sign," said Logan.
"Could be early stages," said Lorelai. "Shouldn't you be in school? Are you dropping out so we can take another shot at the yacht? Wait, we need street cred, make it two."
"Nope, still in school," said Logan. "Just dropped by to give you this."
He kissed her. It was sweet, and it made her feel like stabbing every twenty-year old couple in the world.
"You're driving down the road kissing all the girls in the press gang?" said Lorelai.
"I was doing the guys, too," said Logan, "but then I saw you."
"You came all this way for a kiss?" said Lorelai.
"Hey, don't knock the kiss," said Logan. "Also, I know you're bummed about not spending your birthday with your mom in Atlantic City like you planned. You said she's pretty cool. Well, I think you're pretty cool. Maybe you can work things out."
"Maybe," said Lorelai. "You're pretty cool yourself."
"I know," said Logan, grinning. "That's what the last guy said."