"Laurel, honey."
As her mother reached out to touch her shoulder, Laurel instinctively flinched away. She could hardly recognize the woman in front of her, she bore no resemblance to her mother. This woman had lied to Laurel her entire life, had hidden the truth from her own daughter while telling a world of strangers her deepest, darkest secrets. This wasn't her mother, this wasn't her family.
The line between what was real and fictional blurred dangerous. Trying to reconcile what her parents were telling her with the memories she had of her own life, Laurel squeezed her eyes shit and tried to make a list of things that she knew to be irrefutably true.
1. She was born Laurel Emily Gilmore in Hartford, Connecticut at 3:20 am on June 23, 2017.
2. One of her earliest memories was of her parents wedding. She had been the flower girl.
3. Jess Mariano was not her biological father.
The last fact slipped in, unbidden, and echoed in her mind. It didn't feel like a fact. Instead, thinking about it send a wave of nausea rolling through her, and Laurel was instantly convinced that the appetizers she had eaten earlier were about the make a reappearance. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the bombshell that had been dropped that evening. It hadn't ever even been an option in her mind until the words had come spilling from her mother's lips, tearing at the seams of who Laurel had always believed herself to be. It was all a lie.
"You wrote about it in your book." Laurel couldn't bring herself to look at her mother as she spoke, her voice cracking as she stared at strange stain on the carpet below her. "The entire world knew, everyone knew, except for me. How could you do that, how could you just lie to me my whole life like that?"
"We were always going to tell you, I just didn't know how."
Finally, she turned her gaze back towards her mother, but the look she gave her was cold, angry. "I'll submit your name for mother of the year then because 'let's let Laurel read about it in a book' was a solid choice. Really, bravo!"
"Hey!" There was a hint of aggression in her father's tone, protectiveness. "Go easy on your mom. None of this was easy on her, kid. Not telling you about your birth father was a really tough choice."
Her blue eyes flashed over to meet her father's brown. Until this moment, Laurel had never thought much about the stark differences between them, how any familial resemblance had seemed skipped over them completely. Now it stuck out like a sore thumb, and hurt like one too. All her life she had been so sure of her identity, but it was just another story her mother had made up.
A happy ending to tack onto the end of her bedtime stories.
"Does he even know I exist?"
"He does." A small frown creased her mother's forehead, "I told him, when I found out about you. Things were just…complicated. If he could have, I know he would have loved to see you grow up."
For some reason, that didn't make Laurel feel any better. Maybe she had been hoping that her mother had lied to him, too. That somehow, her biological father might not know she existed either. Then, she wouldn't have been the last person to find out. Then, she wouldn't have been the only one who had been lied to for these past sixteen years. Instead she felt hollow. Alone.
"Who is he? The real Cal, my father."
"His name is Logan Huntzberger."
A little research told Laurel everything she needed to know about her paternal family. It was surprisingly easy to find information on them, including a picture of her biological father and his current whereabouts: California, helping to run the family business. In fact, Logan had apparently been taking a more active role in the company in light of his father's recent health issues.
California seemed so far from her small room in Stars Hollow. Laurel chewed on the back of a pencil and stared down the handsome blonde man on her computer screen who apparently made up half of her genetics. She had gone her whole life without knowing he even existed, but now she couldn't stop thinking about him. Who was he? Did he ever think about her? The little girl growing up without him.
Her fingers gently stroked the keys of her laptop, looking up the cost of a cross-country bus ticket. If she dipped into her birthday funds, she maybe had enough for a one-way trip. She could pretend she was going to school in the morning and just keep going, like her dad – like Jess – had done at eighteen. Laurel had grown up in New York too, she could take care of herself just as easily.
"Hey."
Quickly tapping out of the Greyhound website, Laurel spun to look at her father standing in her doorway. "I don't really want to talk."
"Good, it's my turn to talk now." Her dad didn't move from where he stood. Instead, he just leaned against the doorframe, turning a quarter around between his fingers. "I didn't really plan on being your dad. I mean, I didn't really have a father figure most of my life, so I figured I wasn't qualified anyway..."
"Dad-" She tried to cut him off, but he shook his head at her.
"But the first time you called me dad," he continued, "I don't think you even knew what you were saying or what it meant, but you took ownership of me and I was all in after that."
It hadn't occurred to Laurel yet, her father's side of things. What it might have been like for him, raising her for all these years and knowing that she wasn't really his. Or how hard it was for him now that the truth was out, his place in her life being called into question. He had made the choice to be her dad, even if it wasn't by blood, and he had stood by it. For better or worse, he had been there for her.
"How old was I?"
"Two, I think." There was a second's pause before he spoke again, "I am your dad, Laurel. No matter what, you're always going to be my kid. Nothing in the world will change that. We're family."
"I know."
A million questions formed in Laurel's mind. There were so many things she didn't know about her parents, she realized. Things that she had never thought to ask them about because, for as long as she could remember, this had always been her life. She had always thought she knew the whole story, but she only knew the story of Rory and Jess as Mom and Dad. Some of the pages were missing,
Before she could say anything though, he father took a step into the room and held out his credit card. "I met him once, your birth father. Wasn't a fan. Wanting to know the person you share DNA with is something I understand though, it's why I followed Jimmy to California, so if you need to, then go."
Laurel blinked. She hadn't been expecting this, so it took her a second to react. When she did though, she found herself moving across the room to throw her arms around her father. "I love you, Dad."
"I know."
The bus to California was long and cramped and smelly. Laurel was quickly realizing that commuting cross county on the road was not idea. Especially not for her. Cranky, sleep deprived, and severely withdrawing from caffeine, Laurel was beginning to suspect that perhaps offering to pay for her bus ticket himself rather than talking her out of going had been a cruel prank her father had played on her.
She was going to need a hot shower and a nap before she could even consider tracking Logan Huntzberger down. Definitely a coffee, too. After all, she was still a Gilmore.
From her pocket, he phone let out a vibrant chirp. Considering she had already texted her father when she had crossed state lines into California, there was only one serious contender for who it could be. The one person, aside from her mother, that Laurel was very seriously avoiding. Caleb. Since ditching him at the restaurant on their first date, she hadn't been able to face him. First, she had run away after they kissed, then she had disappeared on their date. She couldn't imagine he had anything nice to say to her.
Clearly, she had torpedoed her chances with him spectacularly. Confirmation of that fact would hurt too much, and Laurel didn't know how much more heartache she could deal with right now. Maybe it was for the best, her life was kind of a mess right now. Caleb was a good guy, he deserved better.
"Hey, Gilmore!"
A familiar voice called out from across the bus station, bringing a smile to Laurel's face. "Van Gerbig!" Dropping her backpack, she leapt into the arms of the older boy, hugging him tightly. It was a stroke of good fortune that Kwan Van Gerbig happened to currently be making California his home base. His band had become moderately successful in the past couple of years, and Laurel knew they were currently recording their second album. It had been all her Uncle Zach had talked about over the summer.
Despite their age difference, Laurel had always been close to Stevie and Kwan. They were every bit her family as her own mother was. They had all grown up and spent the holidays together, the twins even used to baby sit her when their parents went out. Having Kwan here gave Laurel an anchor, a touchstone to remind her that no matter how much her mother's revelation had shaken her world, she still knew who she was. Where she had come from.
"Come on," Kwan nudged her, picking her bag up off the floor, "My mom has been calling every fifteen minutes. I can now tell her that you made it to California in one piece. You are in one piece, right?"
"Let it be known that all my limbs are accounted for, yes."
"It'll be headline news in the Stars Hollow Gazette within the hour."
"Mom will leave out the poem to relay the news," Laurel joked, "It'll be bedlam!"
"Pandemonium in Stars Hollow, nothing compares." There was a smirk on Kwan's face as he shook his head and led the way to the rusty car he had driven to get her in. As much as they could joke about it, they both knew that there really was no place on earth quite like Stars Hollow in the world. It was a place that existed out of time, marching along to the beat of its own drum.
Having put a whole country of distance between herself and the small, quirky town, Laurel felt a pang of homesickness thinking about it. She had always loved the weirdness of Stars Hollow, but she had considered New York as home until just now. Somewhere in the last few months, she had fallen in love with the town just as her grandmother had when she ran away to it, the way her mother had growing up there, the way even her father had despite fighting it for years.
"Shit," she said aloud, forcing Kwan to turn and look at her, "They got me."
The older boy laughed and shook his head, reading her mind, "They always do."
Kwan lived in a small house by the beach with his band-mates, all boys. It was loud and messy, and Laurel loved everything about it. In a lot of ways, it reminded her of how her Aunt Lane's house had always been when she was little, before the twins had moved away. Instruments cluttered every room and there always appeared to be at least three more people than actually lived there. It was perfect.
The bassist, Charlie, had lent Laurel his room for the night. It was the smallest room, right off the kitchen, but Laurel would have the most privacy and the best view from there. Posters of obscure rock bands covered the walls, Batman sheets covered the single bed that was shoved in the corner, and she felt instantly at home. Maybe she could join the band and play the triangle or something, live here.
Sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, she pulled out her laptop and mapped the way out to Logan Huntzberger's office. She had called earlier and made an appointment to see him, using a fake name, but now as she stared at projected route, Laurel was beginning to have second thoughts. What if he didn't want to have anything to do with her? What if her mother had been right to keep her away?
Reaching for her phone, she made a call she had been avoiding. Her mother immediately answered, "Are you alright? Is everything okay?"
"Is he a bad guy, my real dad?"
"Of course not."
"Did you love him?"
"I did." There was a sadness in her mother's voice that Laurel didn't recognize. "I loved him very much. In the end, we just didn't work. We both needed to grow up, and we couldn't do that together. Logan would have been a part of your life, if he could have, Laurel. He just…didn't have a choice."
"Why didn't you tell me about him, really?" Her voice was quiet as she shifted on the bed to lean against the wall. She had been so mad at her mother before she left, so resentful, so focused on the lie that she had been living her whole life, that she hadn't asked her mother why she'd hidden the truth for so long.
"I never wanted you to feel like something was missing in your life." There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, her mother taking a beat to collect her words. "Maybe I was trying to protect myself too, from the decisions I made. I was scared, of how much you would resent me for them."
For a flash, Laurel saw her mother at thirty-two. Pregnant, scared, alone. How hard must it have been for her, to face motherhood on her own? She felt a momentary pang of guilt for how angry she had been at her mother for the past couple of days. It was too much right now. "I have to go, Mom. Bye."
Quickly, she hung up the phone and held it to her chest, letting a single tear fall.
On the other side of the country, Rory Gilmore was doing the same thing.
"Logan Huntzberger's office, how may I help you?"
For the past half hour, Laurel had been sitting in an over-sized arm-chair outside of her biological father's office, waiting for their meeting. Her stomach grumbled hungrily. She had been too nervous to eat before she had arrived, but now all she could think about was the taco stand she had passed on the way over here. Briefly, she wondered if she had enough time to sneak out and get one before they called her in.
The universe answered immediately as the annoyingly perky secretary's eyes finally moved to acknowledge for the first time since Laurel walked in that she was, in fact, still there. "Ms. DeWitt, Mr. Huntzberger will see you now." With a perfectly manicured hand, she motioned to the closed door behind her without a smile, immediately turning her attention back to her computer screen.
Laurel was tempted to make some snarky comment under her breath, but bit her tongue instead. The nerves were back and she was afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak, she'd throw up.
Taking a deep breath to gather all her courage, Laurel pushed the office door open and walked through. An older man sat behind the desk, the same dirty blonde hair as Laurel, the same dimple in his cheek when he smiled in greeting, "Ms. DeWitt, please come in."
Laurel froze as her eyes locked onto his warm brown ones. Everything she had rehearsed saying to him on the way over immediately flew out of her mind the instant she saw herself in this stranger. "My name's not actually Kate DeWitt," she blurted out instead, her cheeks burning.
"I know who you are, Laurel Gilmore," this strange man who was her father laughed from behind his desk, "And it's nice to finally meet you."
