Rory taped the last of her moving boxes shut with a sigh. When she started to pack it became very clear where a good deal of her money had gone. Labels. Designer labels. Nothing Rory owned came from anywhere that didn't have attendants in the fitting rooms. And what the hell for? Rory couldn't remember wearing some of these things more than once or twice. The thought of googling the prices gave her heart palpitations. It took a month and $800 to break her lease after coming back from Stars Hallow. Damn moving companies jacking their prices up for the Fall semesters. Damn college students. Somewhere in the box kingdom that was her apartment, Rory heard her phone ring. "Crap," Rory said as she rummaged around. She really hoped she didn't pack her phone. Rory crawled around on the floor and listened to see if the sound got clearer or more muffled. Several minutes later, she found her phone where she left it. On her bed.
"Hello?"
"Rory!" Emily's chipper voice greeted, "How are you?"
Rory held back a groan.
"Fine. Little exhausted, you know, heavy boxes."
"Oh Rory, it's going to be so nice to have you back home. I missed our Friday night dinners! James is so excited to have you back."
"I mean, I still have to tie up a few loose ends and stuff. Drop off a few resumes."
"Don't you even give that another thought. Taking a break is just what you need. Those fools at the Wall Street Journal have no idea what kind of talent they threw out the door..."
Rory blew a strand of hair off of her forehead. Emily didn't have any eyes or ears in the Wall Street Journal so it was easy to throw the lie of her "firing". It was technically the truth.
"...The ladies at the DAR are going to be ecstatic when I tell them you're back. So far, not one young lady could throw an event like you Rory. Maybe I could convince Renee to let you help out with annual Halloween spectacular. Would you like that?"
No, she would not like that. In fact, Rory would like cutting her foot off with a plastic spoon more than that.
"Hey grandma, sorry to cut you off, but the movers are here."
"Well, alright. I'll let you go. Call me back."
"Will do. Bye!"
With a sigh, Rory crawled up on her bed and tossed her phone away. She sat up as the sound of boxes tumbling down shook the bed.
"Oh no," she said as she looked at the mess. Perhaps buying moving boxes from the dollar store wasn't the best idea. She at least had time to repack everything before the movers came by.
Loud knocks echoed through the apartment.
"This is Acme Moving! Hello?"
–––––
One thing Rory could always admit about Taylor Doose was that the man knew how to throw an event. When Fall rolled around he made sure that Stars Hollow was the place to be. Back when Rory first started working, it killed her to see pictures that April posted of the fun everyone was having in Stars Hollow. Stuck in her cubicle, re-re-re editing her work, she imagined how much easier life would be if she moved back.
Being back in Stars Hollow was a whole different thing. Rory spent the last weeks of September trying to track down the thirty boxes she had shipped back to Connecticut along with her furniture. Ikea or not, she could not afford to toss them. Finding somewhere to hold all her stuff was an experience in itself as well. Lorelai's place was out of the question. Her old bedroom was covered in Fortnite merch and slime, courtesy of James. The garage housed Luke's boat and her mother, the packrat, had managed to stuff Rory's entire childhood in the attic.
Luckily, Lane didn't mind coming to the rescue.
In the basement of what used to be Kim's Antiques, the boxes or Rory's old life found a home.
"How's your mom doing?" Rory asked, wiping a smidge of dust from her forehead.
Lane rubbed her pregnant belly with a sigh. "Well, last year she decided that Busan wasn't holy enough for her and moved to Gangnam near some of my cousins."
"Wait, isn't that the plastic surgery and club city or something?"
"Yep! Every morning, she preaches to hungover 20 year olds with boobs bigger than her head. She's having a blast."
Rory shoved another box behind a pile of old records, vintage band t-shirts, and cymbals.
"Sorry for taking up all the space for the store."
Lane shrugged. "It's for the best. Either I started selling all the Christian soft rock my mom keeps sending me or throw them in the fireplace."
A pair of footsteps came thundering down the basement stairs.
"Mom, someone wants to rent a clarinet!"
"Did you tell them about the loss and damage protection plan, Kwan?" Lane yelled back.
"Yeah!"
Lane turned back to Rory with a smile. "I've taught him well. Wanna watch me up-sell a velvet line case that they 100% don't need?"
"Yes, please."
Lane climbed the basement stairs as fast as 6 months of pregnancy would allow her. Upstairs at Kim's Music Shoppe, Kwan stood behind the register, ringing up a customer.
"So," Kwan said, "That's a 3-month clarinet rental, the loss and protection plan, and beginners sheet music. Is that all?"
"Don't forget about the Teflon carrying case," Lane added.
"I need that?" the customer asked.
Rory browsed the Mrs. Kim approved section of soft Christian rock while Lane did her thing. Being able to see Lane as much as she wanted was awesome. But seeing Lane with her business and kids was a constant reminder that she had crawled back home with her tail between her legs, a certified 30-something failure.
Plus, her mom was not making being back home any easier either. Along with a steaming plate of breakfast, the New York Times want ads were tucked under plate every morning. Luke knew better than that. She was a Yale graduate, her next career move was not going to come from the newspaper.
The contacts she had made the last ten years proved to be worthless. 500+ connections on LinkedIn and no one had the decency to email her a rejection. There was only silence. Terrible, terrible silence. Her inbox stayed empty, her coworkers from the WSJ wouldn't even follow her on Twitter. She had been submitting her resume to every newspaper in the northeast. At this rate, she'd have to start looking for work in California. Or worse, Portland.
When her phone rang, Rory nearly gave herself a concussion with how fast she slapped it to the side of her head. "Hello?"
"Rory! I'm glad I caught you." Emily said.
Rory's shoulders slumped. "Hey, grandma."
"Why haven't you been coming to Friday night dinners?" Emily asked, getting straight to the point.
"I've just been so busy with the move and finding a place for stuff and looking for another job, it's been slipping my mind."
"You see your mother, your brother, and, Luke leave the house every Friday evening in their Sunday best and it slips your mind? Don't give me that."
"Grandma–"
Emily didn't give her the chance to finish "Tomorrow night, you're coming over for dinner. See you then."
The line went dead. Rory took the phone away from her ear and stared at it disbelief.
It was dinner time.
–––––
"Oh-ho-ho. Nice of you to join us," Lorelai said as Rory walked in the foyer.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, rub it in. She cornered me today through the phone! How is that even possible?" Rory replied.
"It's the Emily Gilmore special, my dear. No one ever escapes."
"Are you talking about your mother or a Disney villain?" Luke asked, ushering them to the car.
Lorelai shrugged. "A little bit of both."
"Grandma said that she's going to show us something cool before dinner," James said from the backseat as they turned into Emily's street.
"Cool? Emily Gilmore would never say 'cool'." Rory replied.
"She didn't say it, she texted it. Duh."
Rory was floored. "Grandma texts? Since when?" Rory leaned between the front seats to look at Lorelai.
"When was Grandma replaced by some sort of pod person that texts?"
"Don't think you'll be getting that privilege, she only texts James because she says, and I quote, "Young people don't talk on the phone anymore, Lorelai."
Rory gasped, "Are you implying that I am no longer a young person?"
"Honey, you were born in the 80's. You're geriatric."
"What does that make you, you were born in the–"
"Ah! Don't say it. I'm still 32."
"Gosh Luke," Rory said. "Almost 50 and dating a 32-year-old. Niiiice."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Get outta the car before I turn around and drive us all off a cliff."
"Sounds good to me!" Rory replied.
"Out," Luke said.
Rory stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. The four of them stood on the stoop of Emily's home, shivering in the cool air of October. Luke lifted his hand to ring the doorbell when Lorelai stopped him.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Ringing the doorbell?"
"Without having the before dinner strategy? Are you insane?"
"Lorelai, c'mon. I thought we already had our strategy or whatever."
"That's when it was just the three of us. Rory's here now, so our equilibrium is outta wack. James, keep being cute. Really pile on how much fun you're having at school. Luke, if worse comes to worst bend over. She told me when she hopped on pills after her hip surgery that you had a firm butt, so really use it."
"Oh my god," Luke said with a shake of his head.
"Rory lay it on thick with how much you missed her. Don't talk about being busy. I'm warning you."
Rory held up her hands. "Fine, fine. What about you? What are you gonna do?"
"Try to keep my mouth shut?"
Luke, James, and Rory stared at her.
"Yeah, maybe I'll bend over a lot tonight," Luke said before ringing the bell.
An unfamiliar maid opened the door and took everyone's coats.
Emily greeted them in the foyer, hand clasped around a glass of wine.
"Rory, how nice of you to join us," Emily said, a cold gleam in her eye.
Rory smiled in a way that she was only sure didn't look like a grimace.
"Shall we go into the living room?" Emily said before turning and walking away.
Lorelai nudged Rory with her elbow "For once, I'm not the problem child. Good going, kid."
They followed Emily into the living room in a single file line. Together, they stopped and stared slack-jawed at the newest painting on Emily's wall.
"Oh wow," Rory said.
"Good god," said Luke.
"Whoa," Lorelai said.
James was stunned into silence.
Emily stood next to the massive portrait of Richard Gilmore that took up the entire wall of the living room.
"Do you like it?" she asked. "I based it off one of my favorite pictures of Richard."
"It's so...big," Lorelai said.
"Of course it is. A smaller portrait would never become him."
James stared up at the portrait walked side to side back and forth. Everyone watched him for a while before Emily asked, "What are you doing?"
"His eyes are following me."
"What?" Emily asked, "That's ridicu–" she walked back and forth. And then side to side. Lorelai and Rory followed.
Emily put a hand to her chest, "Oh my goodness, you're right! I knew I shouldn't have gone with Sandra Babcock's painter! The man's a hack! I'll have to cover it up."
"No, no, no, don't do all that." Lorelai said, "All you have to do is get a giant blindfold. You know, it's never too late to spice things up in the bedroom. Not to say your and dad's bedroom wasn't mega spicy before because here I am. Mmhmm, I'm going to shut up now."
Emily raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "You're back to your nonsensical babbling self. I guess you're feeling better."
"When has she not been feeling better?" Rory asked. She turned to Lorelai in time to see her shaking her head. "Are you sick?"
"Sick is a strong word, right James?" Lorelai replied.
"She's puked so much after our dinners that grandma keeps firing her cooks."
Lorelai gasped. "I can't believe I gave birth to a snitch!"
"And at the end of every dinner, she's so exhausted from puking she has to lie down for an hour," Luke added.
"Not only did I give birth to a snitch, but I married one? I'm about to be one very hot divorcee," said Lorelai.
"God, mom why didn't you tell me?" Rory asked.
"How could she? You're just so busy aren't you, Rory?" Emily said.
"Can we forget about it, please? I'm starving and I can smell the food from here. Let's eat."
"Fine," Emily said before walking into the dining room.
They followed after her and shuffled into their seats around the table. Rory blinked at the empty seat sitting across from Emily. She realized that the last time she had dinner with her grandmother, Richard had been alive. The food she was so looking forward to began to sound unappealing. The maids brought out the dinner. Pot roast with mashed potatoes and carrots for everyone. Except. A maid placed a bowl of thin soup in front of her.
"Excuse me, I think my order got mixed up with someone else's. Can I talk to the manager please?"
The maid looked at Emily, who waved her away. Emily picked up her fork and knife. "There's no mistake. You get organic chicken soup for dinner. Your stomach obviously can't handle any rich food."
"No, it can! It can handle the most expensive food! This is so unfair mom. You're punishing me for being sick, that's cruel, even for you."
Emily rolled her eyes. "Fine." Emily waved over another maid. "Take this soup and bring my daughter a plate of pot roast. Thank you."
"Wow, grandma, thanking the maids. Very progressive." Rory said.
Emily sniffed at her. "Yes. So, Luke, how are things at the diner?" she asked turning to Luke.
After the scalding snubbing, Lorelai leaned over to Rory and whispered, "Remember how I told you not to talk about being busy, try not talking at all. Mom's in a mood tonight."
The rest of the dinner continued the same way. Everyone receiving warm, or as warm as she could be, conversation from Emily while Rory was given the coldest of cold shoulders. The only good thing about being there was how often a maid opened up a new bottle of wine. Rory was on her third glass. Or was it fifth?
It wasn't until Emily was in her 3rd tumbler of scotch that Rory was getting more than an eyebrow raise in response. They had relocated back to the sitting room, a large tarp thrown over Richard's massive portrait. James had tapped out and was sleeping in one of the guest rooms. A maid rolled by with the drink cart.
"Would anyone like a drink?"
Luke shook his head, "I'm trying to get these guys home in one piece. No thanks."
Lorelai waved the idea away. "If I even smell a drink, I'm going to puke." She sat up. "Oh boy." She scrambled off the couch and to the nearest bathroom.
"I better go hold back her hair. Last time I forgot she added it to her mental list of things to divorce me for." Luke said, getting up to follow after her.
Emily huffed. "I told her this would happen. I'll have to tell the maid to bring a bucket into the guest room. I will not be paying to have my heirloom rugs steam cleaned twice in one month." she finished with a smile.
Rory thanked the maid her tall glass of gin and tonic. The idea of asking Emily to float her some money had been rolling around in Rory's head since she came back to Stars Hollow. It had never been the right moment. How would it look, begging for money from Emily when that hadn't seen each other in person since the funeral? But now, Emily was a little drunk, and they had had a decent dinner.
"Grandma," Rory said, looking up at her beneath her lashes, "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course Rory, what is it?"
Rory took a deep breath. "I need a favor."