So once again we fast-forward in time in the A Simple Twist Of Fate timeline to the present day.
I'll probably have the next chapter in the regular story timeline up in the next few days, but it made more sense to me to place a Red Sox story in this particular timeline.
So fair warning: there's a bit of an L/L focus in this story. Also, the baby remains unnamed, not because I don't know what her name is (it's not Lorelai, BTW) but because that's a plot point in the main series.
So enjoy this bit of family fluff and leave me a review if you so desire.
Luke and Lorelai celebrated the first World Series win by the Red Sox during their time as a romantic couple in the customary adult manner.
They had only been together for a little over a month. Rollicking was expected. And thoroughly enjoyed.
Three years later, it happened while they were broken up. Lorelai turned down a date with Christopher and went to a movie in New Haven with Rory. Even as hard as she was trying – and most of the time succeeding – in convincing herself that this particular relationship was a good idea, she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid those tiny pinpricks of guilt from piercing the protective shell she had built around herself. Christopher had lived in the city who hosted the team that Luke loved, and she knew that she was running too close to the topic at that point to not crumble if she was faced with it. The subject hit too close to home, and it was better to avoid it if at all possible.
Luke watched the game with April, who attempted to remain interested but fell short of matching his level of enthusiasm. Luke didn't mind that much. He had started taking her to Flyers games in Philadelphia a few weekends before then, and that was a passion he could share with both her and Jess. He didn't let himself think about how it might have been different if he had still had Lorelai. At that point, he was firmly ensconced in his own protective shell, focusing only on the people who he knew still needed him. He was quick to bury all thoughts of what might have been.
Six years after that, the jubilant post-win celebration had ended up much the same as the first one had. Luke and Lorelai had been an established couple for six years by that point, and were finally entering a season of their life when it was just them. April was finishing college, Rory was traveling, and Jess had finally finished his unexpected sojourn in Stars Hollow and had returned to Philadelphia to reopen his business. Sometimes an empty house was a blessing, even for a couple who felt as married as he and Lorelai did by that point.
Still, Luke knew as much as Lorelai enjoyed celebrating these wins with him, she was mostly only enjoying the aftereffects. She didn't care that much for the actual game, and this was echoed down through the rest of the family: Jess, Rory, April, even Doula. He wondered if there would ever be a member of the Danes/Gilmore/Mariano brood who would appreciate a Red Sox win as much as he did.
In 2018, he finally found one.
She had dancing blue eyes, jet-black hair paired into pigtails, and at seventeen months old an innate tendency to never be still.
Jess and Rory had spent the weekend at Stars Hollow's Halloween festival, which was held on the weekend before the actual Halloween festivities the following Wednesday. Rory had ditched the witch's costume she had worn to Chestnut Hill's Witches and Wizards festival, but her daughter had come decked out in the baby demon costume she had worn earlier in the week and would wear again for her first round of trick-or-treating in a few days. Lorelai had argued for the thirty-two-year-old pumpkin costume that was stashed away in the hall closet, but Rory declined: the toddler was still too small for it, and she'd rather save it for a year when she could take her daughter trick-or-treating in Stars Hollow. For now, they'd spend Sunday night at Luke and Lorelai's home, watch (or pretend to watch) a little baseball, and head back home in the morning.
Things were just too crazy this year. She and Jess had finally moved into a house of their own in June, and they were still putting the final touches on what was to be their home as a family. Jess's old townhouse had been okay to start out in, but he'd bought it with his last girlfriend and neither of them really felt that it was a permanent place to put down roots for themselves. On top of that, the book press was busy prepping for the last releases of the year and Jess was trying to write a book of his own, something he hadn't attempted since restarting the press five years ago. They'd had to reconfigure the child care arrangement since their daughter was now too boisterous and vocal to come to work with them every day, and had enrolled her in preschool three days a week. As much as Rory reasoned to herself that it was better for all three of them for her little girl to spend some time socializing with kids her own age, she lamented that everything was moving so fast. Her baby wasn't a baby anymore, and part of her still had a hard time adjusting to it.
However, the night of the final game she and Jess experienced a heretofore unknown phenomenon.
Their daughter was quiet.
She sat perched on her grandfather's lap, her eyes glued to the television screen with the same intensity of his, dressed in the miniature Red Sox shirt that Lorelai had dressed her in for the occasion. Occasionally she would point to the TV and squeal "Look, G'Pa!" and would excitedly clap her hands in time to Luke's whoops.
"I haven't seen her this still in months," Jess remarked halfway through the game.
"Appreciate it while you can," Lorelai said as she and Rory momentarily retired to the kitchen for some coffee.
"You're raising a tomboy," Lorelai admonished Rory as they sat down at the table.
"We haven't taken her to any sporting events since January," Rory said in her own defense. "I think we cut it close with that Eagles game, and Jess got worried when it got so crazy on our street after the Super Bowl. I think the hockey addiction's going to be inevitable, but we won't take her to one of those games until at least next year. She plays with her Gritty doll all of the time. I don't think I can fight that one."
"I figured this one would be a born bookworm," Lorelai said.
"I tried," Rory insisted. "I've been reading to her daily almost since I found out about her. I don't think she's going to like books quite as much as Jess and I do, though. She likes to paint and she loves to chase balls around with Jess in the backyard. Go figure."
"Maybe we needed someone in this family who actually likes sports," Lorelai said gently. "Luke's going to have a field day when she gets old enough for T ball."
"I didn't see myself being a softball mom," Rory replied. She took a sip of coffee from her cup. "But nothing about any of this has been anything like I expected it to be." She looked back towards the living room, where her daughter had traded places to climb into Jess's lap and was excitedly squealing as Luke gestured towards the screen. "I don't think that's a bad thing, though."
"Have you thought anything more about what we talked about a while back?" Lorelai asked.
Rory sighed. "It isn't a great time right now," she told her mother. "That discussion's been tabled until we've been married at least a year. I do think about it, though."
"You could wind up with two little sports fanatics," Lorelai told her.
"Maybe," Rory said as she watched her daughter toddle back over to Luke's lap and settle back down in his arms. "It might be time for a new era, though."
By the time the Red Sox beat the Dodgers at 5-1 to take yet another title, the littlest Gilmore offspring had been dozing on and off for the past hour and a half, her little hand clenched in her grandfather's larger one. The whoops and hollers had settled down quite a while back, but the other three adults hadn't wanted to jolt her out of her comfort position.
Besides, her grandfather's chest was as good a place as any to fall asleep on, and she grumpily fought them whenever they tried to move her.
Luke had finally found the baseball buddy he'd been wanting for years, and their inaugural celebration was worth disrupting her sleeping schedule the next day.
The rest of the family knew that there would be many more to come.
