Chapter 11: Dinner with Dad

The next week, as promised, Rory met up with her father for dinner. Christopher came to her from Boston, as he was on business in Connecticut anyhow.

Luke and Lorelai's wedding had been the party of the decade for Stars Hollow, and after asking her mother's permission, Rory had come armed with photos from the big day. She did not, however, have any intention of divulging the elopement her mother and new stepfather had undertaken. That she would always keep to herself, as would Michel and Lane, and yes, Kirk.

Seated at a fancy table in Windham Seasons Bar and Grill, a few miles from the UConn campus, Christopher eyed each snapshot with a bemused smile.

"Well, Luke's aged like a bottle of fine wine. And Lorelai... she looks lovely." And the latter statement was simple, nothing amorous or untoward about it.

Rory smiled warmly. The waiter approached with a bottle of Chardonnay. Christopher poured his glass and offered it to Rory. "Want some, kid?"

But Rory begged off. "No, thank you, I'm actually... cutting back on the wine."

Christopher smirked. "Drank too much at the wedding, huh? Anyone get inebriated? Make a fool of themselves?"

"Other than Kirk?"

Christopher let out a bark of a laugh, remembering the socially inept entrepreneur and his quirky ways. "Yes, other than Kirk."

"Not me, certainly. I... didn't drink at the wedding either."

Christopher sent her an amused frown. "This is serious, then. But it isn't even Lent yet!"

Rory gawked at him, tickled by the wisecrack. "When was the last time you gave up anything for Lent?"

"I gave up my PacMan machine... in 1986. Does that count?"

"Sure. Just like it counts how Mom and I haven't sat for a Sunday mass since '98. They lost us with the whole Westboro crap."

Christopher chuckled. "Me too."

Rory bit her lip, trying to get the conversation back on track and where it needed to go. "Actually, the reason I've... taken a vow of abstinence is because..." And she took a deep voice before announcing softly. "I'm pregnant."

For the longest time, Christopher did not say anything. "P...pregnant?" He stammered out.

Rory smiled weakly. "Congratulations. You're going to be a grandfather."

That comment seemed to finalize the reality for Christopher, as he finally decided:

"Whoever he is, I'm gonna kill him."

She couldn't help it. She didn't even see it coming. She burst into laughter.

Christopher tried not to glare at her, thrown as he was by her reaction. "Why is that funny? I don't see a ring on your finger. Who is this jackass, impregnating my daughter?"

"It's just... Luke said something of the same, when I told him," Rory explained. "And..." she now grew serious. "I think you might have met this guy, a long time ago."

Christopher's eyes widened in understanding. "The blonde weasel? From Yale? The one Luke and I nearly creamed at...?"

Rory nodded. "We reconnected... when I was in London. Working for Naomi Shropshire."

"I knew about the Shropshire gig; my colleagues say I wouldn't shut up about it for at least a month..."

Rory smiled. "You're not as bad as Luke. He put my New Yorker profile of her on the back of his diner menu."

"Sounds like him. But... hold on," and Christopher finally seemed to remember the subject. "You reconnected with this guy in London. And...?"

Rory flushed red, embarrassed. "He was engaged. He's about to get married, in fact, next month."

Christopher's jaw dropped. "You had an affair? Rory..."

"You don't need to say it. That you're disappointed in me. But you might understand. From experience."

The jab was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Christopher looked genuinely hurt at the broadside that still seemed to come out of nowhere, despite the context. "I... I'm sorry; that was out of line..." Rory tried to backpedal, apologize, a hand to her mouth.

Christopher shook his head. "No need. I deserved that, actually. Better coming from you than... your mom. Or Luke."

There was a long silence, during which the waiter came and took their order. At last, Christopher spoke up:

"Will I be allowed to see the baby?"

Rory peered at him, perplexed by the question. "What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"Luke, for one. I..."

Rory shook her head, smiling gently at him. "Luke has his own rules, and I'll be sure to talk it out with him. But he made it clear to me after the wedding that I am an adult, and can make my own decisions where the baby is concerned. If he has an opinion, he'll tell me, and I will always respect it. This, however, is between you and me." She pointed between the two of them. "Mom always left the door open to you for seeing me. I intend to do the same. Just one caveat, and I will repeat this to Luke:" And she leaned across the table towards him. "I expect the two of you to be civil to each other. You'll be sharing grandfather duties after all. What each of you are referred to as by the baby, that will be left up to you. But I can't have either of you fighting. I won't tolerate it."

Christopher nodded. "Understood, kid."

Rory leaned back, her voice tender again. "I would never shut you out, Dad," she admitted honestly. "You may not have been there much when I was growing up, but I don't want to hold that against you. I never would."

Christopher nodded, tight-lipped, and the lights from the chandeliers reflected the tears swimming in his eyes. "Thank you, Rory." He sighed heavily and his eyes and hands darted around the tablecloth absently, searching for something to do, a new tangent to follow. "So: how do you think I'll appear in this book?"

"Not in a cloud of sulfur, for sure. I'm actually introducing you in my latest chapter now, and what I was thinking was..."