Disclaimer- Gilmore Girls and the characters associated with the show are not mine.
Chapter Seven: Talk, Shred, Read
Lorelai had been sitting at the table for over an hour. Waiting for Jess. He should be coming down to help Luke in the diner soon, and she wanted to talk to him. Crazy. Three years ago if someone would have told her she'd be waiting to talk to Jess, she would have gone into hysterics. Jess? Talking? Really? It was wrong on so many levels. She could picture herself rolling on the ground laughing at the thought. Not now. He had grown on her a bit, watching him with Doula, visiting once in a while on weekends. He had become an unlikely ally. They shared a bond, forged in fear for Rory. Tearing her napkin into little shreds, she waited. She wondered and she hoped. She hoped Luke had told him something he hadn't told her. It seemed a slim chance, but it was one she planned on exploring.
"Nice napkin mountain," Jess said as he poured her another cup of coffee. Jumping, the sudden movement caused the delicate flakes to scatter like snow across the table.
"You need a bell. Don't scare me like that!" Lorelai said, huffy, out of sorts, having lost the upper hand.
"I'm not a house pet, do you want to order again?" he replied, confused by why she was still there. The empty plates and mound of napkin fluff attested to her having been there a while.
"No. I wanted to talk to you. Could you sit?" she asked, unsure of herself. Not a quip in sight.
"Okay," Jess replied, sitting down and waiting. Lorelai fidgeted, played with her silverware and went back to shredding napkins. After watching for a while without her speaking, Jess pulled a book out of his back pocket and began to read.
"Seriously? You're reading? I'm trying to talk to you, ask you something, and you're reading?" Lorelai ranted. Jess sighed, and looked up from his book.
"Well, considering you weren't actually asking me anything, and although I really like your work with the napkins, it didn't seem like you needed my input. Reading seemed a valid choice. Why don't you ask me whatever it is you want to ask," Jess said, putting his book down. Lorelai looked away, and when his hand edged toward to the book again, she started talking.
"She's not the same, and I know that, I knew she wouldn't be, but there's something more. And Luke knows, but he denies it, and says it will be okay. But I know. I know there's something. She couldn't sleep in the house. She could barely stand to be there. She'd get edgy, and have to take off. She was calmer outside. In the gazebo, she seemed herself. And here. She spent all of her time here. She slept upstairs. Luke said it wasn't me. She said it wasn't me. That it was like a form of claustrophobia. I know you ask about her. I know he keeps you informed. Did he tell you anything?" Jess unclenched his jaw, made a conscious effort to relax his hands. He should have known, but it always took him by surprise when Lorelai mentioned Rory. It took him by surprise and it hurt worse. He didn't know why. The wound was deeper, and took longer to get over. He grabbed a napkin and began twisting it.
"He said she wasn't okay. She had nightmares, was afraid to sleep. He thought she had post traumatic stress disorder. That he had arranged for her to talk to a psychiatrist and it seemed to be helping. That's all he said," Jess replied, only noticing he had taken over napkin shredding duties after he finished speaking. Lorelai nodded.
"A psychiatrist. I'm glad. Glad he arranged it," she said, looking down at her empty fingers. Jess slid a napkin across the table to her, and she took it, grateful for something to do with her hands. Looking out from the kitchen, Luke shook his head. Lorelai and Jess, sitting together, making little mounds of shredded napkins. He didn't even need to ask why.
