Too Much of a Good Thing
Lorelai woke with a mouth full of cotton and hunger gnawing in the pit of her stomach. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around the room before glancing at the clock: eight forty-five. She cursed under her breath and swung her legs over the side of the bed, wondering why Luke had let her sleep so long before he left. As soon as the thought occurred, she remembered. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and saw it all again. Drawing a shaky breath, she braced herself on the edge of the bed and pushed herself up. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out—her feet were swollen and tender, her skin criss-crossed with fine cuts that still wept from the night before.
She held her breath as she made her way to the bathroom, praying that Luke had gone home, to the diner, anywhere but her living room. She shivered under a short, cool shower, and paused in the bathroom only to put ointment on her wounds, pull her hair back, and dab concealer over the mauve streaks under her eyes before returning to the bedroom to throw on a suitable outfit. She gingerly walked down the stairs to forage for a stale Pop-Tart and stopped just in the front hall.
"Oh, my God," she breathed, shaking her head. "You've got to be kidding."
Luke emerged from Rory's room carrying a large box. He was wearing a gray tee shirt with the sleeves cut off and jeans; a thin film of sweat beaded his forehead. The hallway was scattered with odds and ends—a shoebox, hangers, a pile of stuffed animals, Rory's mattress leaning against the wall. He regarded Lorelai over the burden he carried, a careful expression on his face. Lorelai had her hands on her hips and her mouth hung open.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked. "I cannot believe you're still here. I cannot believe that you are seriously still here," she said. "Seriously. My God."
He started to edge past her with the box. "I told you I wasn't going anywhere," he told her.
"Yes, but I thought you were just—I didn't think you meant it quite so literally. I mean, look at you! You're still here!" she said, gesturing wildly.
"You said that already."
"And still, it bears repeating," she said darkly. She sighed and turned her head, pushing her chin into her shoulder. "What are you doing, anyway?" Her voice was petulant.
"Clearing out Rory's room." He dropped the box in the living room and wiped his hands on the seat of his pants. "I'm almost done—all the clothes that were in the closet I put in the hall closet, and the stuff in the drawers I just boxed up. Most of it, anyway—I left all the, you know, the girly things for you to do." He paused. "I didn't want to touch 'em. There's coffee on and I brought you some Danish."
She rolled her eyes and stalked to the kitchen, wincing as she went. "I do not need you to take care of me, Luke!" she hollered over her shoulder.
"That is not what I'm doing," he said. He came to stand by Rory's doorway and watched her as she poured herself a generous cup of coffee and eyed the box of Danish. "Eat."
She sipped her coffee and avoided his eye. "I mean it. I don't need your coddling. I can take care of myself."
"You still planning on redoing Rory's room?" he asked her, his voice level.
Lorelai shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Yes," she said, after a moment.
"And you're going to do that all by yourself?"
She gave him the stink eye and slid into a chair at the table. "You are so irritating," she said. "You think you know everything."
"No one knows everything," he said, turning and surveying what was left to do in the bedroom.
"I really don't need—"
"I get it, Lorelai, okay?" Luke said. He looked at her over his shoulder, his face flushed with frustration and exertion. "This is not for you, it's for Rory," he said. "You don't need my help, you want to be alone, fine. I'll be out in the garage."
"What about the diner?"
He didn't answer, just turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him as he left. When she was sure he was gone, Lorelai reached back and helped herself to a Danish.
"Thanks for the coffee," she whispered into her cup.
She poured the rest of the pot into a travel mug and grabbed her car keys. She slid her feet into a pair of foamy flip flops she found among the junk in the hallway, thinking she would only wear them to drive to the inn. She once again found herself stopped dead in her tracks out on the porch. Luke leaned against the Jeep, staring into nothing.
"For God's sake, Luke! I think I can be left alone for five minutes at a time," she cried, stomping down the stairs to her car. "Would you please get out of my way so I can go to work?"
"Babette came over a minute ago," he said.
He watched her posture change, suddenly alert and tense, looking around as though she expected a net to drop any moment and a horde of villagers to appear with stakes and burning torches.
"What did she say?"
"She said to tell you your mom and Rory called her."
"She didn't want to talk to me?" she asked.
He looked at her. "You said you wanted to be alone," he said flatly.
She got into the Jeep and shut the door. "Please, Luke, please don't be here when I get back. I'm serious."
"I know you are," he told her. "I am too."
Sookie was already out on the back lawn when she walked up, her face puckered with worry. She hurried towards Lorelai, her hands outstretched. "Oh, honey," she said, "how are you doing? Are you okay? Tell me you're okay—I tried to go see you last night but Luke wouldn't let me in the house! And Rory called looking for you this morning—"
"Did you talk to her?" Lorelai asked.
Sookie shook her head. "She called before I got here. Lorelai, tell me, are you okay?"
Lorelai sat on the steps to the kitchen with a sigh, clutching her coffee mug. "I don't know," she said. She slid her feet out of the flip flops and showed them to Sookie, wiggling her toes painfully. "I feel like shit," she said. "That's how I am."
Sookie put her hand on Lorelai's back and squeezed her shoulder. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say."
Lorelai gave her a watery smile. "Tell me what happened after," she said.
"After," Sookie repeated.
"After Jason got up and called me a harlot in front of the whole town and branded me with a giant, slutty red S," Lorelai said.
"How is the S slutty?" Sookie asked.
"Sookie, please."
Sookie heaved a sigh. "There was a huge crowd on the lawn, and Taylor ended up having the sheriff threaten to arrest everybody unless they dispersed. Then they arrested Jason—"
"Do we actually have a jail?"
"There's a cell in town hall," Sookie said. "I don't think it's been used in years and years. Anyway. People just sort of went home—I think a lot of people went by your house to see if you were okay. Jackson and I both went, but Luke was standing out front and he wouldn't let anyone up the driveway, even."
"What have people been saying?"
"Lorelai—"
Lorelai jutted her chin out. "I'm not worried about my ego, Sookie—there's not much image to salvage, anyway. I showed up in Stars Hollow with a baby on my hip when I was seventeen. I'm not exactly the blushing virgin, here." She sipped her coffee. "I just need to know."
Sookie stuttered a moment, took a breath, and began. "People are—people are saying that Jason is the worst person in the world for saying what he said about you when he said it, in front of the whole town, that you're an amazing person and you could have done so much better and he clearly wasn't worth wasting your time with, that you and Luke should have done it a million years ago, and that they don't really care what you do after hours as long as you're okay with it."
"Really?"
Sookie nodded. "Honestly, Lorelai. I mean, it's what they've said to me, so they might be saying something else to other people, but that's what I've heard. Except from Lindsay Forrester, who for some reason thought the whole thing was very amusing. She's been real nasty about it. Miss Patty practically verbally scalped her this morning for being so mean about you."
Lorelai shuddered. "Hate by association, I guess."
"Because Dean and Rory used to go out?"
"Yeah." She paused. "What did she say?"
"Do you care?"
"Chalk it up to rampant curiosity. I find myself as the subject of discussion to be truly fascinating." She ventured a small smile. "Wait, don't tell me. 'No wonder Rory's such a prude—self-defense from having such a slut for a mother,'" she said in an affected, high voice.
"Lorelai," Sookie said. "Come on."
She buried her face in her hands. "I feel—I'm just—am I really that empty? Am I really that incapable of functioning in a basic human relationship that I can't muster up one shred of genuine affection and trust for someone enough to want him in my life, really in my life?" She looked up. "What is wrong with me?"
"Jason wasn't the right guy," Sookie said. "But—"
"Neither was Max, and neither was Christopher, and neither were any of the other guys in between, for a million reasons I was all very confident about. I didn't need anyone, I didn't want to change my life, I didn't—God, Sookie. I just—I don't know what's wrong with me," she said again.
"It's different now," Sookie said.
Lorelai stood and began to pace. "Tell me how it's different."
"You're with Luke now—you already trust Luke. It's going to be completely different with him, you know that. Lorelai, everyone knows that," Sookie said. "You should have seen him last night—he was so together, Lorelai. He was—I mean, he was upset, but he was so focused on you, on keeping you comfortable, safe, keeping people from prying. And then when I saw him this morning—"
"When did you see him this morning?"
"I stopped in at the diner really early, before I came here, and he was there opening up. He'd just sent your dad home in a cab, and he was about to go back to the house. He was… distracted," Sookie said. "Upset. He was worried."
"How upset?" Lorelai asked, squeezing her mug so tightly it hurt her palms.
Sookie hesitated. "He was destroyed, Lorelai. It was like everything from the night before caught up with him."
"Shit," Lorelai said, her voice low.
"What happened?"
"I—I told him I needed time alone. I told him I wanted him to leave me alone," she said. She bit her lips together and her eyes filled. "I wanted him to leave so I could be alone."
Sookie stood, her brow furrowed, her hands on her hips. "What'd you go and do that for?" she demanded.
Lorelai's mouth fell open. "I had been attacked by my ex-boyfriend in front of everyone I know! I was upset! I—I don't know! I was—"
"You were freaked out," Sookie said, "and you did the easiest thing. Lorelai, do you have any idea how much that man cares about you?"
"Sookie! What is going on here? Of course I know—"
Again, Sookie shook her head. "Do you? Then why would you ask him to give you time alone?"
"Because—because—after everything Jason said, I just felt like I needed that, to be alone, to figure things out, to know if I'm ready for Luke and being with Luke and—"
Sookie rolled her eyes. "Lorelai, that's just—you're never going to figure that out on your own, you know that. You could spend your whole life waiting to be ready to be with someone who loves you that much, and that's just a waste." She stepped towards her friend, who threw her hands up in defense and stepped away. "Lorelai, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. He loves you."
"What if that's not enough?"
"You have to trust that it is," Sookie said simply, shrugging. "Or that at least it's a place to start."
Lorelai looked away. "It just happened so fast. One day he's Luke, diner proprietor, pal, fixer of things. And the next? He's Luke. He's not a guy anymore, you know? He's a man: he's the man in my life. He's someone who makes me—who I want next to me every night—I just…" She trailed off. "It happened so fast. And I feel so much. It's just so intense."
Sookie took Lorelai's hand in both of hers and squeezed. "You love him," she said.
She began to cry as she spoke. "I love him so much it hurts my insides, and I don't know what to do with that. I don't know where to put it, I don't know how to feel that much all at once," she said, the words flooding out, her shoulders shaking.
"I'm not the one you need to be telling this to," Sookie said.
Lorelai wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I can't tell him that," she said.
"Why not?"
She snorted. "He's Luke," she said.
"Yeah," Sookie said. "You said it: he's the man in your life. Lorelai, you have to talk to him."
Lorelai sighed and looked up at the inn. "I can't be here today. I'm sorry, hon, I have to go home."
"To talk to Luke?"
"To curl up in bed and call my daughter," she replied. "To think about what to say to Luke."
"Whatever you need, sweetie." Lorelai turned to go. "Lorelai? For what it's worth, I don't think Luke was ever just a guy. Maybe that's why it feels the way it does, or why it happened so fast. Just a thought," Sookie said.
Lorelai smiled sadly. "Thanks, Sookie. I was supposed to meet with Winky today—cover for me?"
"Of course."
She tried to figure out, during the drive back, if she wanted him to be there when she got back. When she pulled into the drive, he was sitting on the front porch, his back against the railing, his legs stretched out across the top step as he drank a bottle of water, and she still wasn't sure. She slid out of the truck and padded across the lawn towards her door, feeling each slap of the flip flops against her heels as though there were nails embedded in the foamy material they were made of.
Luke looked at her sidelong. "Don't even say it," he said.
"What?"
"That I'm still here. I was working on the headboard and now I'm taking a break."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she said. "Am I allowed in my house?"
He moved to let her pass. "What's wrong with your feet?"
She stared down at her toes. "I cut them."
"I can see that."
"I'm taking care of it," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Luke stood. "I got the message, Lorelai."
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't need me," he said. "I get it." He made his way down the stairs. "I'll be back later to work on the headboard some more."
She watched him head down the drive. "Luke?"
He turned.
She wet her lips and tugged on the ends of her hair, waiting for the words to come. After a moment, she sighed. "Can you bring me to the hardware store this evening so I can pick up some paint?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
He nodded.
"Luke?" She paused again. "Can you bring food?"
"Got it."
"Real food," she added, "not green things."
"Again, I got it."
She took the phone to her room and dialed as she slid under the sheets.
"Lorelai, thank God! We've been waiting for your call all day. Where on earth have you been?"
Lorelai pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and her thumb. "Mom, I'm sorry. I had a bad night, I unplugged the phone. I'm better. How are you?"
"Do not try to change the subject, Lorelai Gilmore. You tell me exactly what happened last night," Emily said. Even across the ocean, Lorelai thought, her mother could produce that sharp pain behind her left eye.
"Mom, could I just talk to my daughter, please?"
"Please, Lorelai, I am trying to find out what happened, could you just tell me?"
She sighed. "Jason gave a speech at the town meeting and caused a bit of a ruckus. He said some things, I said some things, Dad threw a punch, Jason got arrested—it was a big thing, but everything's fine, I'm fine, Dad's fine, I assume Jason's fine. Can I talk to Rory now?"
"You are absolutely impossible, Lorelai."
"Mom," Lorelai interjected, before her mother could continue. "I'm upset. It was unpleasant. I'm not happy that it happened. Everyone I knew was there, and it was embarrassing. I'd really like not to dwell on it, though. I just want to talk to Rory."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
Lorelai lifted her feet in the air and stared at her toes. "Battered and bruised, but otherwise okay. I promise."
"And your father?"
She dropped her feet. "I don't know. The last I saw him, he was standing. I'm going to call him later. Or you could," she said.
"I'm glad to hear you're all right. I'll put Rory on," Emily said.
"Mom?"
"Yes, Lorelai?"
"Are you okay?"
She could practically hear Emily sitting up straighter, rearranging herself, putting on the dignity thicker than Chanel. "I am just fine, thank you for asking, Lorelai."
Lorelai rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.
"Mom?"
She lifted her head. "Oh, Rory," she said, smiling back the tears. "God, hon. It's so good to hear your voice."
"Are you okay?"
"Are you?"
Rory sighed. "Mom," she said firmly.
"Oh, babe. I'm always okay. You know me—I'm a happy face band-aid," she said.
"Okay, that is not the first way I'd think to describe you, Mom, at all. Tell me, really."
"Rory, I don't know how much more talking about myself I'm capable of right now," she protested.
"Now I know something's wrong," Rory said.
"Ha ha," Lorelai replied. "Jason—maybe he didn't say anything I didn't deserve. I don't know."
"I do," Rory said. "I didn't even hear it and I know that you didn't deserve to be called names in front of the whole town and hear terrible things about yourself like that. He was hurt that you rejected him and he lashed out, and whatever he said is just wrong and hurtful and stupid."
"I've heard that before," Lorelai said, "but it sounds so much better coming from you. Thanks, babe." She sighed. "I think I messed things up with Luke."
"How badly?"
"Let's put it this way: what's the biggest romantic faux pas in the Cameron Crowe oeuvre?" she asked.
"Diane Court with the pen," Rory replied immediately.
"Yeah. That was me. He gave me his heart and I gave him a pen," Lorelai said.
"No," Rory said. "I don't believe that."
Lorelai considered it a moment. "Okay, remember the end of Spiderman, when Peter has to reject Mary Jane even though he totally loves her because with great power comes great responsibility?"
"You're not seriously comparing your love life to Spiderman. I totally regret that rental choice," Rory said.
"There was nothing else in the store!"
"Mom. You can fix it. He's Luke. He's totally into you. He always has been."
Lorelai began to laugh, a laugh that started in her belly and worked its way out, fully and throaty. "You just said 'he's totally into you!'" she gasped.
"What's your great power, anyway?"
"Confusion, baby," Lorelai said, still giggling. "I assure you, hon, I'm going to be fine. I just need to think about some things and figure some things out, try and talk." She put her hand to her forehead. "Let him talk, too." She paused. "Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"I love him."
"Oh, Mom," Rory sighed.
"And I'm scared."
"I know," Rory replied. "But you don't have to be. You can trust Luke."
"He's totally driving me crazy. He's doing this whole over-protective, hovering, stoic thing. It's insane. And really annoying."
"Then nothing's changed," Rory said.
"But it has," Lorelai said. "That's what's freaking me out." She sighed. "I won't be able to figure this out on the phone, and I won't be able to figure it out all at once. I think I need Luke for it. Not that I don't appreciate the effort, hon, or your willingness to totally dissect my love life, but I think I have to keep this one to myself."
"Okay. I get that." Rory took a breath and Lorelai heard the catch in her throat. "Do you want me to come home?"
Lorelai sat up. "No, babe, of course not, not until your trip is over. Not until you're ready. You don't have to worry about me, I promise. I'm—well, I'm going to be fine, you know that. Don't come home on account of me. Are you okay? You doing better?"
"I am," Rory said. "I'm really enjoying spending time with Grandma."
Lorelai smiled. "Good. Glad to hear it. Have her give you a big hug from me. I should go, this is going to cost more than Lindsay Lohan's new boobs."
"Nice, Mom."
"I try. Okay. Love you, babe."
"Love you, too."
Lorelai tossed the phone to the floor and fell flat on her back, stretching her arms out over her head towards the corners of the bed, pointing her toes away from her in the same way. She inhaled through her nose and released the breath slowly. She stayed this way a long time, different words echoing in her head. She heard Jason saying she was ashamed of herself, her father saying they were blood, Luke saying he wouldn't go anywhere. She ached, a little, but she wasn't sure why—because she was tired, or because of the things that Jason had said, because she had been right in what she had done afterwards, or because she had been wrong, because Luke wasn't there, because he was coming back, because she didn't know what he was thinking, because she didn't know what to say, because she was so turned around her confusion was a weight on her chest that made it hard for her to breathe, because she was so mentally worn out that the best she could do was to call herself a happy face band aid. She felt spread too thin, stretched too far. She curled back into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. She waited.
Luke returned at six to find Lorelai in Rory's room, taping off the ceiling and the edges with blue tape. He stood in the doorway a moment before he spoke.
"I brought you a bacon cheeseburger and chili fries," he said.
She nearly fell over at the sound of his voice. "God," she said. "I feel like I'm in Rebecca's room and you're Mrs. Danvers."
"If I knew what you were talking about I'm sure I'd think that was very clever. I might have even laughed," he said.
"That's very generous of you," Lorelai replied. "I'm starving."
They ate in silence. Lorelai chose not to comment on the fact that with the exception of a small green salad first, Luke ate a meal identical to the one he'd brought for her, though he abstained from coffee in favor of water with lemon. She stole glances at him as she ate her fries, systematically as always, saving the ones the most loaded down with chili and cheese for last. She couldn't read his face. She hoped he wasn't thinking about much of anything. She hoped he wasn't so angry he wouldn't listen. She hoped he'd hear what she was trying to say when she was in the middle of saying it all wrong.
He drove her to the hardware store and helped her load the paint into the bed of the truck, and then to carry it into the house. When all the supplies were where they needed to be, they stood awkwardly together in Rory's empty room, not looking at each other. Luke stood with his hands on his hips, staring at Lorelai's feet.
"You gotta wear better shoes," he said.
"I wasn't wearing shoes when I got cut," she told him.
"I meant while they heal. You gotta wear better shoes," he said again.
"And you have to stop telling me what to do," she shot back. "You have to let me be—you have to let me do what I need to do, Luke, what I want to do, to take care of myself."
He turned and began to walk away. "Fine. Do what you want."
"Where are you going?" she called after him. "Luke?" She followed him into the hall. "Please don't go."
He wheeled around and stared her down, his eyes blazing. "What do you want, Lorelai, what do you want? You want me to go, or you want me to stay? You want me to leave you alone, let you take care of yourself, or you want me to bring you food and cart you around on your errands? Tell me what you want, Lorelai, 'cause I sure as hell can't figure it out on my own," he said, his voice shaking.
"Well, neither can I!" she cried. "All I know is that I want to be with you, that I want us to be together, but I just don't know how to do that! Okay? And I'm tired, and my feet hurt, and I feel pulled to pieces because all of my most private insecurities have been exposed to everyone I know, and my entire family is a mess, and I just want—I want—" She paused, close to tears again. "Why am I always crying?" she asked softly. "I hate to cry."
Luke dropped his hands and let his shoulders round in. He laced his fingers together behind his head and closed his eyes. "What do you want, Lorelai? Right now, just tonight. What do you want?"
She held her hand in a loose fist, covering her mouth. She leaned against the wall. "I want you to hold me. I want to go to bed and know that you won't hate me in the morning because I can't figure it out all at once. I want you not to hold it against me that I'm not sure. I just want you to be here, for me, no questions."
He looked up at her, his head still down. "I don't hate you," he said. "But I can't keep doing this. I can't be with you just on your terms. You have to know that. That's not what I want." He paused. "I meant it, I'm not going anywhere. I can't. There's too much here—there's too much—"
"I know," Lorelai said softly.
He swallowed thickly. "You gotta work with me, Lorelai."
"I know," she said again. "I just can't do it tonight. Is that okay?"
"What choice do I have?"
"You have a choice, Luke," she said.
He reached for her, put his arms around her. "No," he said. "I don't." He picked her up, cradling her in his arms as he carried her to her room. He held her and she cried again, sobbed until she was scraped raw on the inside and there was nothing left to push out in tears and hiccupping breaths. He held her till she fell asleep, breathing noisily, her skin flushed.
When Lorelai woke there was coffee in the kitchen and Danish on the counter, but no Luke. Lorelai poured herself a cup of coffee and sat on the kitchen floor, unable to cry anymore.