Chapter 4: The one with the thing and that one guy
Lorelai began walking home. She knew she had driven, but driving just wasn't a good idea at this point. Besides, walking seemed to calm her down during most emotional breakdowns. But this time, it didn't seem to be working. She knew what had happened, what she'd said and what he didn't say. She just didn't want to believe it right then.
She opened the front door to her house, after attempting to wipe the tears from her face. Her mascara had run and she knew that. She was all too aware of that fact and also, that no amount of hand wiping was going to help. Rory wasn't an idiot, she was an intuitive girl. She'd never be able to convince Rory that she hadn't been crying, that she wasn't upset, and that nothing was wrong.
"Rory? You here?" Lorelai whispered, secretly hoping that becoming fed up with her own tardiness, her daughter had left.
There was no answer. She peaked around the corner into her daughter's room. There she was, curled up in her bed with an open book still in front of her, sleeping. Lorelai quietly stepped in just far enough to grab a hold of the open door, and close it as she exited completely. If Rory was asleep, off in dream land where she was undoubtedly uncovering a big story, she didn't want to wake her up simply because she couldn't deal with her own problems at that moment.
Lorelai stepped out onto the back porch and grabbed some boxes that she'd been avoiding for the past three weeks. She knew what she had to do now. No turning back, no ignoring the issue anymore. She stumbled around the kitchen searching for a permanent marker and some tape. She found the marker with ease. The tape was more trouble than she thought it would be worth. Somehow, she knew that that would be where she found it. She'd never used packing tape before other than when she moved from the inn, into this house. She was absolutely certain that she had none. But there sat Bert in the kitchen, on the floor under the table and she broke down again.
She opened the old, rusty green toolbox and saw the packing tape she'd been searching for lying on top of every tool, nail, and scrap of sandpaper in the box. Grabbing the tape and closing the box as quickly as she could, she took her supplies upstairs to her room and began packing. First the cleaning supplies. She wouldn't be using them tomorrow and she'd need to spruce up the apartment that she'd been seriously looking at. Then the towels, careful to leave two for the morning for both her and her daughter. She packed up most of the bathroom, aware that she'd still need some things the following day. Once she finished in there, she moved on to the bedroom.
She set out the outfit she'd wear. A relaxed pair of black, pinstripe slacks and a top to go with it…black with a white tank top beneath. She packed her clothes, her socks, her pants, her shirts, until it came to her pajamas. Mixed in with the jumbled up pajama pants and comfy tees lay the nightshirt she'd been wearing when she was still with Luke. One of his long flannel shirts that kept her so warm at night. She'd known it was there, had seen it multiple times but this time it just stung so much more. She picked it up, staring at it for a moment just holding it in her hands, pulled it to her chest, and took one last breath of it. The smell of him was gone from it, but her mind put it back there as if it were one last reminder. She closed her eyes.
"Goodbye, Luke." she said to herself in a hushed and painful tone as she tossed the shirt on her bed and continued packing her belongings.
By the time she had finished, all that was left in the room was a solitary picture of Rory sitting on the nightstand, her sheets, covers and pillows to her bed, what she'd wear the next day, and her toiletries that would be vital in the next 24 hours. She labeled each box, sealed it shut and when she had every box labeled and closed, she brought them all downstairs, two by two. She had begun loading them into her jeep when Rory woke up.
"Mom, what are you doing?" Rory asked.
"I'm packing. I was going to have to do it eventually. Now just seemed like the right time. I know it won't all fit in the car but I'll call a Uhaul guy and have them send one over so I can finish up and be out by breakfast time."
"Do you want me to see if I can borrow his truck? Less expensive, more time effective." Rory offered.
"No. I don't want him to have anything to do with his. I don't need his help anymore. I don't even…" Lorelai trailed off.
"Don't even what, Mom?"
"I don't even know if I want him to know." she said as she turned back to look at her daughter, tears in her eyes, jaw clamped shut.
"I could go tell him so you don't have to."
"No, Rory." Lorelai protested.
"I can go over there right now. Tell him you're leaving in the morning. Give him a warning." Rory persisted.
"Rory, no."
"You need to tell him before you go. Someone does, this is insane!" Rory said.
"Rory, it's not insane. I went over there, I talked to him, he said nothing! He didn't say word one. I flat out gave him a chance and he said nothing! He's not interested, he's not going to come back and he sure as hell isn't going to let me come back to him. He does not need to know." Lorelai said very forcefully, almost in a yell.
"Fine." Rory gave up. "Can I help?"
"Yeah. Thanks kid. There're some boxes on the back porch. Umm. Just start…packing up the kitchen. Leave a pop tart for the morning, other than that it can all go." Lorelai offered through sniffles.
Rory walked up to her mother and hugged her.
"I'll go start in the kitchen."
Lorelai went back to work, fitting as many boxes in the Jeep as she could which didn't turn out to be many. I really need a bigger car she thought to herself.