AN: Updated to add content and switch tenses :)
The limo comes to a soft halt after about half an hour.
"Signorina, we arrive," The driver calls to her, a heavy accent breaking up his syntax.
"Guiseppe, are you kidding?" She asks in wonder.
Rory's temporary home is tucked neatly away in the heart of Isola, Milan among pockets of other rustic looking homes and apartment-like buildings, all with shuttered windows and beautiful greenery in the yards or on the windowsills. She can feel her cheeks hurting from how large her smile is, but she can't control it.
This place is beautiful, and she gets to revel in its beauty for the next six months. She hopes it doesn't lose its charm.
Giuseppe comes around Rory's side and opens the door for her. Her boots dig into the earthy Milanese ground as she hoists herself up, thanking him for offering a hand. They had become fast friends in the car, trying out their English and Italian on one another. Neither was worth bragging about, but it had made the drive fun.
Rory pulls on her jacket, zipping it up. It is chilly. Not quite snow weather, but certainly Fall in Milan. At this revelation Rory's heart tugs, reminding her of her mother and how much Lorelai loves the first snowfall and how homesick Rory is probably going to feel come the morning.
Giuseppe calls something in Italian towards the house that she doesn't have the skills to decipher, and in moments a dark skinned man with big brown eyes and slicked back black hair comes bolstering out of the doorway. He has a nice face with distinct features, and he looks as though he spends a lot of time in the sun.
"Rory!" He says happily, offering his arms to her for a hug. He accentuates the 'ree' at the end of her name and rolls her Rs.
She smiles warmly and, though a bit caught off guard, walks into the man's embrace.
"Paolo?" She checks and he nods, laughing and clapping her shoulders roughly. He is built like Luke but a little meatier, so it takes a lot of effort for Rory to refrain from wincing at the blows. His hands look like best paws and his shoulders are broad.
He, too, calls something out in Italian as he assists Giuseppe with Rory's bags. A short, stout woman who could be mistaken as Babette's long lost brunette twin comes out, smiling widely in her apron.
"Welcome, Rory," she says warmly, gesturing for her to come to the home. Her accent is significantly less noticeable, and Rory wonders if she had studied English or been born elsewhere. Rory shakes her head to herself, embarrassed at her thoughts. Judgmental, much?
Rory smiles and walks quickly over to the woman, who puts her arm around Rory's lower back to guide her through the doorway.
"I'm Concetta," she says enthusiastically, pointing her finger at Rory as she pronounces her name. "We are so excited for you!"
Concetta chatters excitedly in Rory's ear, pushing her into the kitchen with her. She looks at Rory expectantly.
"I'm so excited to be here, thank you so much for hosting me!" Rory thanks, her hands widening to gesture at the home. "It's so beautiful."
Concetta seems pleased at the sentiments and nods. Rory almost sighs in relief; she feels as though she's seventeen again and trying to compliment her Grandma's casserole. She smiles inwardly that she has passed this test.
"Paolo, in camera da letto a lei- in her bedroom," Concetta tells her husband, waving her hand towards a room down what appears to be a hallway as he comes in with the bags.
"Adesso, Rory, let me show you around."
"That would be great!"
Concetta walks Rory around the home, pointing out where she can find various utensils and toiletries. It is her home now too, Concetta assures her, so Rory needs to learn where everything is to get it on her own. The walls are decorated with sleek eggshell-colored paint, with tasteful decorations of vines and black-framed photos of the family on the walls. The floor is wooden, which Rory wasn't expecting for some reason, and the furniture just looks Italian. The place is a modest size, but it makes up for its size in character.
Concetta leads Rory down the same hallway that Paolo had seemingly disappeared into, revealing a small foyer with a wooden staircase leading up to somewhere. Concetta gestures for Rory to follow her up the stairs, not pausing for a second as she continues to explain the ins and outs of the house to Rory.
"And here, mi amor, is your room," Concetta says over her shoulder, pushing the wooden door open.
Rory's eyes sparkle as she takes in the room, noting Paolo dropping her bags onto the bed. It is large and bright, with a large, slatted window on the ceiling. The ceiling angles down towards the head of her full sized bed, and the floor has a large, rusty red rug with golden trim poking out from beneath the bed. But the most amazing part of the entire room is that the walls are lined with bookshelves, with easily hundreds of book bindings facing out at her, welcoming her to the room.
Rory doesn't realize her mouth is hanging open until Paolo chuckles at her, commenting, "You catch flies that way, Rory."
"I'm sorry! This is just incredible!" She exclaims, practically leaping over to the shelves to paw at the titles. This is what Heaven looks like in a bedroom, Rory decides. She frowns to herself for a moment and realize that perhaps her romantic dry spell that Lorelai jokes about is true if she is this excited about a few bookshelves. But she reasons that this room really is amazing, and goes back to being ecstatic in all of five seconds.
Concetta and Paolo exchange a look, watching Rory's face change from excitement to concern and back again, and begin to make an exit.
"We will leave you to settle," Concetta tells Rory at the doorway, smiling. "Alessandra will be home soon, she can show you around the area."
"Grazie," Rory says enthusiastically, hopeful even, and Concetta nods her head before closing the door behind her.
Rory falls onto the bed, watching a bird fly by her window. She smiles brightly to herself, hugging her sides. She hasn't even been in Italy for three hours and already feels so amazed at the layout of the house. She can't wait for Alessandra to come home so she can go exploring. It isn't like a Gilmore to sit and wait, but Rory knows it would behoove her not to get lost in a strange place with only minimal Italian phrases as her guide and defense.
Rory gets up and walks the length of the room to a dresser that is waiting there empty for her. She is taken aback slightly by a large figurine of Jesus on the dresser. Was he always there? Rory eyes it cautiously before scooting it to the edge of the dresser and finally placing it next to the bottom left drawer.
She doesn't plan on doing anything questionable during her stay, but maybe it is better to keep God shielded, just in case.
Rory pulls out the top drawers and eyes them, closes them, and then continues to do this for all of the drawers.
Nothing gives Rory pleasure like organization. She would have felt silly being excited to organize her sock drawer had she not had the overwhelming feeling that she was in Italy organizing her sock drawer, which made it actually kinda cool.
Rory knocks shyly at the living room doorway, laptop in hand. Paolo, who had been watching some judge show rather intently, turns to look at her, nearly jumping up.
"Si, Rory?" He asks, walking over to her.
He almost looks concerned, and Rory can't help but think of how much he reminds her of Luke suddenly.
"Oh, uh, mi scusi, um, avete wifi libero?" Rory asks uncertainly, offering Paolo a winning smile. She would be the adorable American who tried, if all else failed.
Paolo chuckles, relaxes, and offers her the password, to which she offers an exuberant grazie before running back upstairs.
Rory plops herself down on her bed. She sits her laptop on her lap while she logs into Facebook and Skype, hoping to catch Lorelai at home. It is almost 2:00 pm in Milan, which makes it almost 8:00 pm in Connecticut. She had wanted to get settled in before catching her mom up on her Italian escapades.
'Lucy? Lucy, are you there?' Rory pings to her mom.
'You betcha, Ricky. Skype?' Lorelai messages her back in record timing.
Rory smiles and logs into her username, listening to the familiar blip of the app. Technology had come so far since her beeper days. All of these websites and apps make her life easier, she realizes. She travels so much that without them, she isn't so sure that she could do her job. It hurt too much any time she went weeks without talking to her mom or Lane, without hearing about the inn or her godsons.
Suddenly her line is ringing, an unflattering photo of Lorelai stuffing her face with cheese fries popping up on the screen. Rory clicks to answer.
"Hey, kid!" Lorelai yells excitedly.
"Hey, mom!"
"How goes it down over? Did you meet any handsome men yet? Did you fall in love? Am I a grandmommy yet?"
Rory makes a face, sticking her tongue out.
"Very funny, mom. I just got done unpacking."
"So, how're your socks lookin?"
"Don't make fun."
"I'm not, I'm genuinely curious how many times you and your socks made out in their new Italian furniture before you decided to call me."
"My socks are just fine, thank you. Mom, this place is so great."
"Yeah?"
For the next two hours, Rory rattles off everything, from the plane ride to Oren to the limousine and the house, along with Paolo and Concetta. Lorelai updates her on Michele's latest argument about wallpaper with Sookie at the inn, as well as the progress Luke is making on the kitchen remodel.
"Alessandra hasn't come home yet, but she's supposed to show me around Isola. I wasn't able to see much after being ushered into the house, so I still don't understand a ton about my surroundings."
"Aw, hon. Don't sound so bummed. You have whole six months to explore and get to know the place."
Rory shrugs a shoulder and moves her lips to the left, scrunching her cheek. Her eyes look down.
"Yeah, you're right I guess. I just feel so antsy. Long plane ride, you know?"
"Yeah I bet."
"So you like the kitchen renovation?"
Lorelai rolls her eyes.
"Sure, I like it, but a kitchen is as useful as a hangnail. All I need is my coffee pot and I'm a happy woman."
"But Luke seems happy with it..?"
Lorelai smiles brightly. "Yeah, he's really excited. You should see him. I didn't know he could smile so much."
Rory giggles and yawns, covering her mouth quickly.
"My own offspring, bored of me already!"
"Sorry, mom. I just didn't sleep very well on the plane."
"Why don't you nap until your faux sister comes? You'll never win me the son in law I desire without beauty sleep."
"Gee, thanks," Rory mutters, squinting at her mother.
"Get some rest, sweets, okay? Call me tomorrow? It's getting late here."
"Alright, I'll try. Love you mom."
"Love you babe."
Rory ends the call and closes her laptop. She hugs it to her chest and sighs. She misseds her mom already, she realizes. It feels like Yale all over again, except this time, Lorelai wouldn't be able to throw her an all-you-can-eat-buffet party and keep her company howling to random frat boys.
Rory puts her laptop on the floor and scoots it under her bed before hopping back onto the mattress, laying back against the pillows. She closes her eyes only for a moment, and then she drifts off into a slumber.
"Rory?"
Rory stirs, her eyelids fluttering open. She turns her head towards the sound of a soft voice, but sees no one.
"Hello?" Rory asks uncertainly, propping herself up by an elbow.
At her response, a young woman pokes her head into the room.
"Hi! I'm Alessandra," the woman explains, smiling.
Rory smiles back. "Come in, come in!" She exclaimed, sitting up fully in her bed and waving Alessandra into the bedroom.
Alessandra's smile lights up the room as she allows herself in. She has long, curly black hair with the lightest brown eyes. Her skin, like Concetta, is a light olive tone, and she has a thin frame with curvy hips, not unlike Rory's. Rory stands to embrace Alessandra when she offers her arms, and she finds that she has to hunch just a little. She has maybe an inch or two over the young girl.
"Oh Rory, I am so excited to meet you! To show you around!" Alessandra exclaims like rapid fire, squeezing Rory before pulling away from the hug. She, too, has a slight accent, and she speaks very quickly. Rory ponders the thought that perhaps Concetta and Paolo also speak quickly, but slow down their speech so that she can understand them.
"Me too! I've heard so many nice things about you," Rory assures her. "I can't wait to explore Isola."
Alessandra gives Rory a lopsided smile.
"Parli molto di Italiano? Do you speak much Italian?" Alessandra asks, tilting her head to the side.
Rory smiles awkwardly and pinches her fingers together.
"Solo 'un po, only a little" she giggles.
Alessandra nods and claps, offering Rory an enthusiastic brava! Everyone here is so friendly so far, Rory thinks to herself. She has never really noticed how excited other people get when you try to learn their language. Rory resolves to buy an Italian phrase book at the first bookstore she sees, figuring it has to be better than anything in Connecticut.
Alessandra links her arm in Rory's and guides her downstairs.
"My English is better spoken than understood, you understand?" Alessandra checks, looking back over her shoulder at Rory as they round the corner from the foyer.
"Si," Rory offers, nodding.
"So we will need to work on your Italian," she says with a mischievous laugh. Alessandra pauses before adding, pointedly almost, "Some things about Isola are hard to translate."
Alessandra turns from Rory and speaks to her mother.
Rory nods. She can make out bits and pieces of what Alessandra says with Concetta, and she determines that Alessandra was letting Concetta know where they were traversing to. Concetta kisses Alessandra's cheek and blows a kiss at Rory before turning back to whatever she was baking in the kitchen. Rory laughs and waves, calling out a goodbye to Paolo from the doorway.
"Where do we go first?" Rory asks once they are outside, pronouncing her words slowly. Alessandra gives an intense nod of approval, so Rory figures that they are off to a good start on this language barrier.
"Mama told me that you love books, si?" Alessandra asks, gesturing to the left as they walk so that Rory will know where to turn.
"Si, amo i libri. I actually want to get an Italian phrase book," Rory confesses.
Alessandra nods and they continue to walk, Alessandra pointing out different shops, cafes, tourist spots, and buildings of friends that Rory just has to meet. She also goes over a few historical and architectural facts of the area, contrasting with the larger city of Milan.
They stop once they get to Micamera Bookstore, only about ten minutes from where Alessandra's home is. This is both the closest bookstore and the most popular, Alessandra comments to Rory. Rory's eyes light up as Alessandra ushers her inside, pointing out different sections.
Rory has a feeling that this area will be a much frequented second home during her stay. And for the second time that day, she has this overwhelming thought that she should have packed lighter for this trip.
"You really didn't have to stay with me the whole time," Rory says apologetically, two bags of books by her side as Alessandra helps her pay.
"We have all winter to explore, you seemed so happy," Alessandra assures her warmly, chorusing a grazie with Rory to the cashier.
The young women step out of the store and Rory checks her watch, frowning.
"It's already 6:55," she says, mildly dispirited.
She had kept Alessandra in the bookstore for over two hours, scanning the shelves and talking about books. It was a fun time for Rory the bookworm, being able to discuss her favourites with Alessandra and in turn receive Alessandra's recommendations. But she realizes that not everyone loves bookstores in the manner in which she does, and perhaps that not many people can appreciate that about her either.
Alessandra waves Rory off dismissively, linking their arms again to guide her back.
"Quando si inizia il lavoro? When do you start work?" Alessandra asks.
Rory furrows her eyebrows, acutely aware that she has missed the middle part of what Alessandra has said. She hopes that Alessandra is asking about work, and she tries a response to that.
"I have a few days to get settled," Rory answers hopefully, almost asking a question. She internally sighs in relief when Alessandra nods, seemingly pleased.
"You have time to explore Isola. Your understanding of Italian is bravissima," Alessandra cooes.
Rory blushes a little, small shade of pink that isn't noticeable to anyone but those who know her well. She waves Alessandra off in the same way she had done to Rory just moments ago.
"You're just trying to butter me up," Rory insists.
Alessandra stops suddenly, causing Rory to turn to look at her.
"Butter up?" She asks, confused.
Rory rubs her chin, wondering how to translate.
"Um. It means you are trying to flatter me?" She suggests, shrugging her shoulders.
"Ah! Okay! This I understand," Alessandra exclaims, nodding. She resumes walking, and Rory follows suit.
After several minutes of walking, the girls are back in front of the home. Rory waits for Alessandra to go ahead of her, feeling uncomfortable at walking into the house first. She knows that Concetta would want her to, but it just feels awkward. It's another moment when she feels like a teenager. It had taken her years of knowing Lane before even thinking about doing that.
Rory is distracted in her own thoughts until she comes to, realizing that they are still outside and both of them have seemed to succumb to a thought. She turns to Alessandra, seeing a panicked look on her face, and nudges her, concerned.
"Are we locked out?" Rory asks cautiously, testing the waters.
Alessandra shushes her, staring at the home next door. Rory peers over Alessandra's shoulder, wondering what she is staring at and why it requires silence.
"Che cosa?" Rory asks, whispering to avoid another shushing from the small woman.
Alessandra pouts and crosses her arms. Rory is bewildered at best. She can't see whatever it is that Alessandra is seeing or not seeing, judging by her current posture. The most that Rory can make out is that there is a small light emanating from one of the windows of the home next door. Rory looks again at Alessandra, hoping to be clued in, but to no avail.
"I'll tell you inside," Alessandra whispers, pushing through the front door. Rory follows her inside closely, like a puppy. Concetta and Paolo offer greetings to Rory, scolding Alessandra for keeping them out so late.
Alessandra and Rory exchange amused looks and sit down at the table. Rory's eyes are bright at all of the food at the table, and she makes a mental note to brag to her mother about the non-takeout delicacies that she is being blessed with.
If she comes back with nothing else to show for her trip, perhaps Rory could come back five pounds heavier.
She doubts it though. Nobody could out-eat a Gilmore.
"Alessandra, dimmi! Tell me!" Rory light heartedly demands, pulling Alessandra into her room.
"Ahhhh," Alessandra says with a lover's sigh, putting her hand over her heart as she falls onto Rory's bed.
Rory chuckles. "You seem lovesick!"
"I am, I am," Alessandra confesses gayly, patting next to her for Rory to lay down with her.
Rory flops onto the bed, sitting down instead of laying.
"There is a boy there, capisci? You understand?" Alessandra speaks, making sure that Rory understands and is willing to follow her into this sensitive part of her life.
Rory nods and smiles knowingly. She hasn't yet discovered how old Alessandra is, but Rory projects that she's younger, around 21 or 22. She appreciates how open Alessandra is willing to be with her, but knowing what attraction does to people, she's sure that Alessandra frequently discusses her affection with friends. Rory knows the feeling of a crush, a desire to be closer to a cute boy in town.
"Siiiiii," Rory draws this out, teasing her new friend.
"He is beautiful. He writes. He is so quiet, but I know his soul is golden," Alessandra gushes. Rory listens intently.
She gets startled as Alessandra shot up, turning to Rory expectantly.
"Non credere a tutte le chiacchiere che senti," she says pointedly, raising her finger with each word. "Don't trust the gossip you hear, Rory. My parents don't approve, you see, because he is so quiet. He isn't friendly in the way they want a man for me. He doesn't bother anyone, but he doesn't try to make friends or say hi. The people around here are wary too, you see," Alessandra confesses. She seems genuinely distraught, so Rory's face softens and she offers an attentive ear to Alessandra.
"He's American, and I don't think they're used to his mannerisms. He just needs to open up. He gets along well with the boys who live there. But he has been here for two months, and he is so handsome, and I adore him," she concludes, putting her hand to her heart again.
Rory smiles empathetically. She knows exactly what it is like to get with a guy like the one Alessandra is fawning over. As a teenager, she had had her own silent, brooding type in Jess. She smiles at the memory but it is clouded closely with a frown. Things hadn't worked out so well when she was younger. Rory pats Alessandra's hand.
"Maybe we can talk to him tomorrow?" Rory offers.
Alessandra lets out a gasp at Rory's boldness.
"Parlilo?! Talk to him?!" Alessandra exclaims, aghast.
Rory laughs.
"Of course, silly. How else will he fall in love with you?" She asks, lightly nudging Alessandra in the side. "Besides, I'm also American, so I can probably learn a lot about him based on what I know about different states, that way we can discuss privately."
She smiles graciously and hugs Rory. Rory coughs, taken aback by the amount of strength hidden in this young woman's arms.
"Grazie, principessa! You are a blessing," Alessandra concludes. She looks at the clock on the wall, reading close to 10pm.
"Let's have an early start tomorrow," Alessandra suggests, more in a statement than in an offer. "I know where he gets coffee to write."
Rory all but snickers at Alessandra. It is so sweet to see how excited she is about this boy that Rory shakes all images of poor relationship endings out of her head. Rory nods.
"Sounds like a plan!" She responds, smiling widely.
Alessandra kisses Rory's cheek before patting her thigh, excusing herself from the bedroom.
Rory smiles softly to herself, and she heaves herself off of the bed to her dresser to change for the night.