Author's Note: This chapter is all kinds of better due to DeepFriedCake's input-thanks as always for being my beta! And thank you to all who take the time and energy to review. I've been so pressed for time lately that I have been neglecting sending PMs in response-I hope to rectify that soon!


Things Fall Into Place

Monday, August 3, 1992

"Only two more weeks of camp. Hard to believe," Lorelai commented, as they watched the bus pull away from the square, Robbie and Rory waving goodbye through the window.

"Wow," Luke said, shaking his head. "I've been so focused on the diner, I forgot about that."

They turned and started walking towards the diner. Lorelai bumped his shoulder with hers. "Opening only one week from today… nervous?"

"A little. Much less now that the air conditioning is done. I spent most of Saturday putting things back in order, and yesterday touching up the paint around the vents, so it's finally looking decent again."

"Ooh, that's right. What time did they finally get out of here Friday? They didn't make 5 o'clock, did they?"

After a week of almost constant togetherness, though no more sleepovers, Luke and Lorelai hadn't seen each other over the weekend. As if by mutual agreement, they took a little break from the intensity of longing to be together for real-as a couple, as a little family.

"No, they finished up about 10 o'clock that night."

"How much did you give them?"

"$800."

"Softy."

"Well it seemed cheap to jump down to $500, for just a few hours past the deadline."

"You're definitely a softy. But I won't tell anyone."

Entering the diner, Lorelai took a seat at the counter and Luke moved behind it to get her coffee.

Lorelai sniffed the air. "Do I smell rolls?"

"You do."

"Oh goody! I missed our little breakfast club, while you were back under construction."

She sipped her coffee and looked around the diner as Luke went into the kitchen to get the rolls. "It looks really great in here, Luke. Just like before."

"Thanks. It's a big relief. And, speaking of the breakfast club, spread the word. I need people here tomorrow morning, to taste test."

"Taste test?"

"Got a possible chef coming in to audition."

"Ooh, exciting. Who?"

"A guy named Chet, lives over in Woodbridge. He came by on Saturday. His brother had saved him the ad, he's been away for six weeks, cooking on some catamaran that takes small groups of tourists up and down the New England coast."

"Interesting. Good guy?"

"Okay guy. Just out of college. He reminded me a little of Sean, that same kind of glad-handing, tell the boss what he wants to hear thing going on. Maybe."

"So you're making him come in and test cook?"

"Seemed like a good idea. If he's a good cook, and willing to take direction, I may overlook the personality thing. We'll see. Thought I'd try him out on breakfast tomorrow, plus burgers."

"Mmm. Burgers for breakfast… I'm here."

Luke smiled at her. "Somehow I knew you would be."

She smiled back, and Luke enjoyed a moment of peace, happy to have a chance to be alone with her, if only for a few moments. They hadn't been alone, really, since the morning after the impromptu sleepover.

Luke had woken up first, and was happy to spend a few moments looking at each of his sleeping companions. Robbie was flat on his back, one of his arms thrown over his head. Luke loved to look at boy's sleeping face-it's when he still looked like the baby he once was.

Rory was on her side, facing Lorelai, and Luke couldn't see any part of her but a shock of her silky brown hair. He thought back to the last time he and Robbie had stayed at the Inn, and how he had brushed that silky hair from her face as she had laid in bed with Robbie watching TV, looking up at Luke with shining eyes. Was that really just three days after he had met her? It amazed him how quickly she had wiggled into his heart.

Now Luke let himself rest his eyes on Lorelai. He'd never seen her so still before. Quiet, even pensive a few times, but never still. He found himself mesmerized by her eyelashes. Usually he was caught by her eyes, brilliant and blue and full of life. Laughing, teasing-her whole personality shone through them. But now, undistracted by the blue, he marveled at how beautifully her sooty eyelashes curved against her cheek. He wished he could kiss them, kiss her awake.

God, this was torture. Together, but not.

He sat up slowly, trying not to disturb Robbie. He stood, his back to the bed, torn. Slowly he headed for the bathroom, grabbing fresh clothes on the way.

Washed and brushed and dressed, he came quietly back into the room a few minutes later. Still no signs of life from the sleeping trio, though Lorelai had shifted and was now facing away from Rory.

The temptation to wake her was too great. He knelt down by her side of the bed and gently touched her cheek, then leaned in and kissed her eyelashes, just as he had imagined a few minutes before. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled.

"Morning," she whispered.

"Morning." He moved his hand to her hair, smoothing it back from her face.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked.

"I did. You?"

She nodded, turning her head and pressing a kiss to his palm. "They're still asleep?"

"Yes. I was thinking of heading down to the kitchen-do you think Sookie will get suspicious if I ask for coffee?"

"Uh, yeah. But it's okay. Give her a little thrill, keep her guessing..."

"Earth to Luke..."

"Huh?"

"Where'd you go just then?" Lorelai teased.

"Oh, uh...just thinking back to the...other morning."

"Oh," Lorelai said, coloring just slightly.

"I miss you," Luke said quietly.

She smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I'm right here."

"I know. But last week was so great, being able to see you every night. I want that."

"I know. But no wooing yet, we agreed. You're being way too sweet, you're breaking the rules."

A knock sounded at the door. He tore his gaze away from Lorelai as they both turned to look.

An older man opened the door as Luke waved him in. Tall and wiry, with close-cropped dark hair and light brown skin, he flashed a nervous smile and crossed over to Luke.

"Mr. Danes?"

"Luke," he replied, offering his hand.

"Carlos Padilla. Good to meet you sir." He turned to Lorelai. "Ma'am."

Lorelai smiled and held out her hand as well. "I'm Lorelai Gilmore. Nice to meet you."

"What can I do for you Mr. Padilla?"

"Carlos, please. I came about the job as a cook, if it's still open."

"It is."

"Oh, good. My pastor, Reverend Martin at Grace Church in Hartford, just told me about it yesterday. I work there part time as a handyman, but I've got lots of experience as a cook, so he thought I might be ready, um...good for this job."

"Okay, well, let's talk." Luke looked over at Lorelai, not sure if she wanted to sit in.

She glanced up at the clock and said, "Whoops, I better get going to work myself. Nice to meet you, Mr. Pa…Carlos," she switched to his first name as he shook his head.

He smiled. "You as well, Lorelai."

"Luke, I'll see you later. Don't forget we're going party supply shopping with the kids after camp," she said, taking a last swallow of coffee.

"I won't. And thanks for spreading the word about breakfast tomorrow."

"No problem." And with a wave, she was off.

"Let's have a seat, talk a little." Luke came out from behind the counter and indicated one of the tables.

As they sat down, Carlos took the lead. "So tell me about your place here, Luke. When do you open?"

"A week from today. Lunch only for a month, then breakfast, and eventually dinner as well."

Carlos nodded. "Gradual opening."

"I have a son, starting kindergarten next month. I want to ease us both into my new work schedule."

Carlos nodded again.

"So tell me about you. Where did you learn to cook?"

"In the army. I was a cook in the army for three years. Well, I should say, I started out as a pot washer and potato peeler, but I was doing actual cooking within six months."

"Any restaurant experience?"

"Some. I worked at a few diners, both in New York City and Hartford."

Luke looked at him curiously. "But right now you're a handyman?"

"Yes."

Something was off. Carlos had started off talkative, and now was giving shorter, non-detailed answers. Luke looked him in the eye.

Carlos met his gaze, but looked nervous.

"So," Luke said. "What aren't you telling me?"

Carlos grinned broadly, his face lighting up. "I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous, now that it comes down to it." He reached into his front shirt pocket and withdrew several pieces of paper that were folded together. He opened them, then rested his hands on top and took a deep breath.

"What I'm not telling you, but will tell you now, is that I've been in prison. Twice. One long stint, and one that lasted less than a year. I've been out a year now, and this is the first real job I've applied to since I got clean and sober, and I'm a little nervous."

"Okay," Luke said, not sure how to react. He liked this guy, he felt it in his gut, but an ex-con didn't sound like good news.

"I've typed up my personal and work history here. Well, I wrote it all down, and then Irene, that's the church secretary, she typed it up for me. It was Reverend Martin's suggestion. He pointed out that I don't always tell the story in a logical way, and that this would help."

"Did you want me to look at it?" Luke asked.

"Oh, yes. Here you go." Carlos handed him the top paper.

"Why don't you walk me through this," he said, scanning the long list of dates and other details.

"All of it?"

"Sure. I'm going to need the full picture here."

"Well, that's good. Because I don't really know how to do this except to tell you the whole story."

"Then tell me the whole story." Luke could feel himself responding to something in this guy, something that made him want to listen.

"Okay, well, as you can see I was born in Puerto Rico, in 1950. My parents moved us to New York City in 1955. Me and my sisters and brothers. There were five of us, I'm right in the middle, number three. Pretty typical city kid upbringing. Tough neighborhood, tough schools but a few decent teachers here and there. But my dad died when I was 17, and I, we...all just kind of fell apart. I started skipping school and finally quit with some vague idea of going to work to 'help' the family, but I would mouth off to my boss and that would be that." He looked up at Luke. "Not a good thing to tell a prospective boss, maybe?"

Luke smiled. "It was a long time ago. Keep going."

"I was running with a bad crowd, got picked up on a possession charge, pot, nothing hard, but the judge gave me a choice of jail or the army, so I chose the army.

"I did really well. Basic was hard, but I finally found bosses I couldn't mouth off to. Not without having to do 100 push-ups or be on latrine duty for a month. I got discipline, and I got skills. And even though I was shipped to Vietnam, I wasn't too close to the action. I learned to cook pretty well, considering it was army food. My captain was a good guy. Tried to make the food as edible as possible. Showed me all his tricks for softening up tough meat, how to get spices and other touches to give it flavor. We did a pretty decent job.

"After three tours, I was ready to come home. Or so I thought. It wasn't an easy adjustment. It was 1971-not a good time across the country, or in the city. I decided I was sick of cooking, and thought I'd go back and get my GED, to look for a better job. I didn't have much luck though. Did some construction and some livery cab driving and some security. Fell into a pretty serious party habit on the weekends, which stretched into the week, which turned into getting fired a bunch of times and then going to work for my dealer, since I didn't have the money to support my habit.

"It's funny. Part of why I drifted was because I missed the discipline, the structure of the army. And I didn't know how to create that for myself. Not yet. Working with this guy, I got a little of that back. I knew what we were doing was wrong. Not just illegal but wrong-evil. But we did it well. I even started using less, and was mostly just dealing. Our operation grew, got better, more efficient, more lucrative.

"And then, of course, we got busted. And that bigness, that efficiency, that 'success' translated into a 10 year sentence. I got lucky though. An uncle of mine worked as a court guard. He got a favor from the judge, got me assigned to a medium security place, upstate New York, where things weren't horrible. Decent Head Warden and guards. I fell in with a group of tough but quiet guys, and we were able to stay out of the nonsense of the gangs and such.

"I got assigned to the kitchen, and I learned more about trying to make okay meals for hundreds of guys...

"I did get clean, in prison. Cold turkey. No NA or support group or anything, though. I was stubborn, didn't think I needed all that. I saw, with myself and other guys, how insidious and disruptive drugs were, and I was set on staying away from them.

"So. I got out in '84, and I did okay for a while. My parole officer got me a job at a hospital cafeteria, and I stuck that out for a bunch of years. I stayed away from the drugs, but unfortunately not alcohol. Over time, drinking became a bigger and bigger part of my life. I began missing work, got fired. That happened a few more times. I finally ended up driving a livery cab again. I somehow convinced myself that driving for a living would keep me from drinking."

He shook his head at his own folly. "One night, my boss called me in to cover a shift. I'd been drinking earlier, but since I had fallen asleep for an hour or so, I convinced myself I was fine to drive." He paused. "That was rock-bottom. Thankfully I didn't injure anyone. I plowed into a streetlight, abandoned the car, hid out in a bar, stumbled home drunk, where the cops were waiting.

"So I was sentenced to another twelve months, for DUI, abandoning the scene of an accident, and resisting arrest. That was two years ago. I had hit rock bottom and that was when I started my climb back up. In prison I joined AA. I took a writing class, got occupational therapy, took advantage of every support program available. I came to understand myself as an addict, and that I thrive in an orderly environment, and get really lost without that.

"I'd been raised Catholic but never had much use for religion. But in prison, I met Reverend Martin, he's Episcopalian. He's a wise and gentle man, and when I was ready to be released, he offered me a room in the priory, and the part-time job helping out around the church. One of my brothers lives in Hartford too, so the Reverend and I were able to convince the parole board to let me to move to Connecticut.

"I've taken it slow, step-by-step. I'm sober two years now. I still thrive on structure, but I know now that I can create that structure for myself. I work at the church and go to meetings every day, I take a cooking class twice a week, and I volunteer three nights a week at a local men's shelter, preparing and serving dinner.

"I'm ready to work toward being on my own once again, and this job could be a step in the right direction, if you'd be willing to consider me."

Luke was quiet for a moment. "I'd be willing to consider you Carlos, but I make no promises as to the outcome."

"Of course."

"So, tell me how this would work, if I did hire you. You sound pretty busy. For the first month, it would be lunch only. I need my chef here for prep at about nine in the morning, and you'd be done by two or so. Come September, I'm adding breakfast. You could switch to the breakfast shift, or keep the lunch shift, or even stay for both if you were willing to work full time at that point."

"Well, any of those options could work for me. I do keep myself busy, but if I got the job I would cut back. I'd stay living at the church in Hartford for now, and take the bus here. My work hours there are flexible, and if I made such a big transition, I'd need the support system of my regular meetings. The lunch-only start would work well for me, let me get used to doing things more gradually."

"So do you think you can cook for less than 300 at a time?"

Carlos chuckled. "I can. A lot of the other places I've worked at were coffee shops and diners. And I've been doing some baking for smaller crowds, contributing to the after-church coffee hour."

"The food here is going to be basic, but high-quality. I want to use fresh ingredients as much as possible. I'm trying out local farmers for eggs, dairy, and fruits and vegetables. We'll see if that's cost-effective."

"I'd look forward to learning your approach, if you hire me."

Luke nodded. "Okay, well, two things need to happen. I have another guy in the running for the job. He's coming in for a trial run with some of my future customers. I'd like you to do the same on Wednesday, if possible. Wednesday morning."

"That would be fine. What time?"

"Why don't you get here at 8, to start serving at 9. In the meantime, I'll be honest with you, I will be checking multiple references on you. I need to talk to Reverend Martin, and your parole officer, and I'd like a list of one or two others."

Carlos handed Luke the second typed sheet. "Here's a list of every job and every boss I can remember. Obviously not all of them will give me a good reference, but the bad behavior was in the past. And in the army and in prison, there was no bad behavior."

"Okay thank you. We'll talk more after Wednesday. I want to be sure of you, sure I'll be able to trust you. I have my son to think of. And Lorelai, my friend you met earlier, she has a daughter who also spends time here. I have to think of her, plus the rest of the town."

"I understand. I appreciate your honesty. I want to know that you can trust me."

"That can't be an easy story to tell, so I appreciate your honesty as well."

"You're right, but knowing that my hardest times are behind me, and that I have control over my future, that makes it easier."

Luke nodded and stood.

"Hey," Carlos asked as he stood as well. "Would you mind showing me the kitchen?"

"Sure, no problem."

Luke led him back, and watched as Carlos took in the space, and handled some of the equipment. He turned to Luke with a grin. "I don't think I've ever cooked in a brand-new kitchen before. You must be excited."

"I am," Luke agreed. "I'm excited to finally get it underway."

"This is the first restaurant you've owned?"

"It is. I've worked at quite a few, but never run my own."

Carlos nodded, running his hands over the gleaming stove top. "Okay, well, thanks for letting me take a look. And thank you for considering my application. I sincerely appreciate the opportunity."

"It was good to meet you, Carlos, thank you for coming in."

They shook hands, and Carlos left. Luke watched him cross the square and wait at the bus stop, looking around at the small town all the while.

Luke's gut told him this was a good guy, the kind of guy who would really care about his work, and the diner as a business. But his head was worried. He picked up the list of references Carlos had left, and crossed over to the phone. "No time like the present," he said out loud, and dialed the number for the parole officer.


"Wow."

"I know. Pretty, right?"

"Not what I was thinking," Luke said dryly.

"Ooh, what were you thinking?"

"Wow, I can't believe there's an entire store for selling party decorations."

"I know. Makes you glad you came back here to the good old U.S. of A., right?" Lorelai asked.

Luke couldn't quite tell if she was joking or sincere. Her eyes were doing that enraptured thing as she gazed at the façade of the party store on the outskirts of Hartford, and she was bouncing up and down on her toes.

"And why am I here again?" he asked, taking Robbie's hand as they crossed the parking lot toward the entrance.

"Luke…" Rory moaned, from the other side of Lorelai. "This is one of the best parts of party planning – deciding on the theme."

"Oh no, not a theme again," he muttered.

Lorelai took his hand. "Don't worry, honey, we'll do all the work. You're just here to provide wheels and the credit card."

Luke took her at her word, and wandered along behind them as they walked up and down the aisles looking for the boys' birthday section. Once there, Luke stood to the side. He was enjoying watching Robbie's awe at all the choices, and enjoying even more that his indecisiveness was driving even Lorelai to the end of her patience.

Rory had wandered down the aisle, bored with the debate over the merits of trucks versus trains versus dinosaurs.

"Okay, let's try this," Lorelai was saying to Robbie. "Let's narrow it down to two. Which one do you want to eliminate?"

"Dinosaurs. No, trucks. The dinosaurs are cool…"

"Okay, so no trucks. Bye trucks! Now, let's decide between dinosaurs and trains."

"Can we get both?" Robbie asked hopefully.

"Oh, I don't know, Robbie." Lorelai held two packs of napkins side by side, the green and yellow of the dinosaurs clashing with the red and blue of the trains. "It's sort of a weird mix of colors," she pointed out.

"But I like all the colors," he said, a whiny tone creeping into his voice.

Lorelai glanced at Luke, looking for help.

He raised his hands. "Wheels and credit card, that's my role here."

"You're enjoying this a little too much," she accused him.

He just grinned at her.

She turned back to Robbie, who was now fingering the truck napkins yet again. Lorelai sighed and rolled her eyes upward, taking a breath to calm herself. "Ooh, look-" she said, reaching up a few rows and grabbing a pack of paper cups. "Look, Robbie. Airplanes. And they have all four colors in there: blue, red, green and yellow."

"Oh, cool."

"So airplanes?" she prompted.

"Well…"

"Remember, whatever you don't pick this time, you can pick next year."

"I can?" he asked, looking from Lorelai to Luke.

Luke shrugged, and Lorelai nodded. "Of course you can," she assured him.

"Okay, planes," Robbie said.

"Excellent. Great choice. Rory – it's airplanes!"

Rory came back, and they began piling cake plates, napkins, and other themed items into their baskets. Luke vetoed tablecloths, and those annoying paper blowers, but gave in on party hats.

"Okay, let's see: streamers, balloons, and goody bags, and we're done. Oh, and thank you notes," she said, snagging several packs of cards decorated with planes.

"Goody bags?" Luke asked.

"Yup. You fill them with candy and little toys and send one home with each kid, as a thank you for coming."

"No candy."

"Luke!" her whine was more pronounced than his five-year-old's.

"They're already getting cake, ice cream and juice. I'm not sending them home with more sugar, this time full of chemicals. And no plastic toys."

"Non-plastic toys are expensive."

"I could make them all something myself for $10 worth of wood."

"You and the elves that magically expand days from 24 to 36 hours?" Lorelai asked sarcastically.

"Good point."

"Oh wait! Remember, we already have toys. The ones left over from your Dad's store."

Luke groaned.

"You did save them, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay. That's it then." Lorelai picked up one basket and grabbed Robbie's hand, walking down the aisle before Luke could argue anymore. The next aisle over, she appointed Rory chooser of the streamers and balloons, while she grabbed two packets of plain white bags.

"Robbie and Rory can decorate them," she explained. "It's more personal, and a good project."

Luke just nodded, any remaining will to resist the materialist tide and Lorelai's pleading eyes now gone.

Squeezed back in the truck, with Robbie on Lorelai's lap and Rory in the middle, they headed towards Stars Hollow.

"See, now was that so bad?" Lorelai asked him.

"Well yes, that was just as…" Luke started, but Lorelai cut him off. "… as fun as you expected," she completed his sentence pointedly, kissing Robbie's head, and Luke let it go.

Robbie was happy, and so were Lorelai and Rory.

His credit card would survive.


Tuesday, August 4

Luke wiped down the counter, then laid the damp rag flat across the grey dish pan on the shelf below, and stood back up. He leaned back against the opposite counter, and surveyed his now empty diner. Just at this moment, there was nothing he had to do. There were things he could do, but nothing he had to do. It was a strange feeling.

He looked out the open front door. It was one of those perfect summer mornings-clear and sunny, with a sparkling quality to the light. Hopefully the weather would hold through Saturday.

The diner was back in order after this morning's trial run. His regulars had turned out in full force to taste Chet's cooking. The prospective cook had held up well under the pressure of 10 simultaneous orders. Luke had kept the menu relatively simple: eggs fried or scrambled, pancakes plain or with blueberries; bacon, sausage, and hash browns on the side for those who wanted. And of course, cheeseburgers.

He'd not given any guidance on the eggs and meat, wanting to see what Chet brought to the table, so to speak. But he gave Chet his recipes for pancakes and the hashbrowns and asked him to follow them precisely.

Chet got stubborn about the hashbrowns – he wanted to add onions, not garlic; and fry them in sunflower or canola oil, not olive. Luke wouldn't give, and the potatoes came out okay only. Chet didn't quite have the touch yet, but Luke assumed he'd get there.

Luke had surveyed the group while Chet cleaned up the kitchen. The scrambled eggs were declared to be dry but the fried eggs, both over easy and sunny side up, got raves. The sausage was a little underdone for most people's taste, but the bacon was fine. And the plain pancakes were nice and fluffy, but the blueberry ones were overloaded and thus soggy.

Full as they were, except Lorelai of course, Luke made everyone take at least one bite of a cheeseburger. Chet had gotten resistant there too. He was a flipper. Luke coached him to turn only once, but Chet couldn't seem to stop himself from flipping multiple times. To Luke, the burgers were too tough as a result, but the townies were pretty satisfied.

He had Chet come out and meet everyone, and he made a good impression there as well. He was a friendly, good-looking guy, in a surfer dude kind of way – Connecticut surfer dude anyway. Miss Patty ogled, of course. Lorelai chatted with him and seemed to not be able to help mildly imitating his verbal style, while glancing conspiratorially over at Luke. Jackson talked with him about his recent sailing adventures, and Gypsy asked about his car, a junker parked outside the diner.

All in all, Luke thought, he could see Chet working out okay.

He definitely liked Carlos better, trusted him as more grown-up, in spite of the prison record. Seeing how his cooking compared would be the next step. But the ex-con thing did give him pause. He'd spoken to both Reverend Martin and Len Dunphy, the parole officer. Both gave reassuring reports about Carlos's steadiness and commitment to his sobriety and rebuilding his life. Now he was waiting to hear back from either the prison's warden or head cook. Beyond that, he didn't think it was worth going back to talk with other former bosses.

Luke pushed himself off the counter and walked around the diner. He was bored, but not enough to look at what was next on his list. Stepping outside, he saw Angie, the mail carrier, heading down the street towards him. When she got to the diner they exchanged pleasantries, then she handed him his mail and moved along. Luke saw the large official looking envelope right away.

He closed and locked the door and headed upstairs. Setting the assorted bills and catalogs aside, he opened the envelope and drew out the divorce decree from the state of Connecticut. Placing it on the table, he smoothed his fingers over it, feeling the raised seal of the state, reading the official words ending his marriage. He sat down heavily, feeling a lot of relief, and just a twinge of sadness. And hope, and happiness. It was official. It was over. He could move forward, and build a real relationship with Lorelai.

Uncharacteristically, he had the urge to call and tell someone. Lorelai? That seemed wrong, somehow. He wanted to tell her in person, and to give himself a little more time to process. Liz? Nah–-he was seeing her in a few days, that was soon enough. And besides, her responses to things were always a little…unpredictable. Bud and Maisie? Or Mia? Too parental.

A guy. A guy would understand. John. Or Joe. Or John and Joe.

Perfect. Luke wanted to get their opinion on the Carlos situation anyway. He crossed over to the phone and dialed, hoping John might be free to meet him at Joe's for lunch.


Luke entered the cool interior of Joe's bar, happy to be there for the first time in almost a month.

"Hey Luke," Hazel greeted him from behind the bar. "Long time no see."

"Hi Hazel. Yeah, I've been busy, it's just a few more days until I open."

She nodded. "What'll you have?"

"Any of the locals on tap."

"Sure thing." She drew his beer and placed it in front of him on a cardboard coaster. "Anything to eat?"

"John's joining me-I'll wait until he gets here. Joe around?"

"Yeah, he's out back somewhere. Quiet so far today," she said, waving her hand to indicate the mostly empty bar area.

They chatted for a bit, Luke asking Hazel about her progress on her dissertation. He tried to follow along as she described her research on presidential election polling. Just as he feared she was going to expect him to make some sort of intelligent comment, he felt John's hand clap his shoulder.

"Luke, Hazel," he said in greeting. "Sorry I'm late – long-winded client."

"No problem. Hazel was just filling me in on how to make presidential polls more reliable."

"Good thing I got here then," he joked, sitting down on a stool.

"Hey – at least he pretends to be interested, more than I can say for you," Hazel retorted. She placed a beer in front of him, without having to ask what he wanted.

"Hazel, you know I hang on your every word."

"Well, you stare at my mouth, anyway." She winked, and went down to the corner of the bar to take a drink order from one of the waiters.

Luke laughed. "She's on to you, oh King of Subtlety."

"Yeah," John agreed. "Think I should ask her out?"

"Well, I don't know. You've only been flirting with her for what three, four months?"

"Yeah," he trailed off, looking serious.

"What?" asked Luke.

"Well, you know. She's smart, focused, ambitious."

"And funny, and attractive," Luke added helpfully.

"Well yeah. She's the real deal, not just a casual dating kind of thing."

"So?"

"So, I haven't done the serious thing for a while."

"You have a schedule?"

"No, just…"

"What?" Luke asked, curious that John sounded unsure of himself.

"Well, let's just say the last serious relationship didn't end well."

"How long ago?" Luke asked.

John thought for a minute. "About a year and half, I guess."

"Well, that's a pretty long time. I think you should go for it."

Luke watched John watch Hazel, and saw a look of determination pass over his face, followed by a small smile.

"Okay, maybe I will." He took a gulp of the beer. "How about Lorelai?"

"What about her?"

"Fling or serious relationship?"

Luke was startled. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that John had noticed the attraction, but the sudden change of topic and direct question threw him. Then he saw the accompanying smirk on John's face, and decided to have a little fun. He took a drink, looked over at John said, "Oh, a fling- for sure."

"Really?" John asked, clearly surprised.

Luke glanced over, noting with satisfaction that the smirk was gone. "Oh yeah. Single mom, who helps me out with my kid and I help her out with hers. Kids really close, after just a few months. Teeny tiny town, full of gossiping lunatics. Protégé of one of my oldest and most trusted family friends. Plus she's smart and strong and one of a kind. So yeah, that's got fling written all over it."

John laughed. "Sorry."

"It's like you don't know me at all, John," he said, shaking his head in mock sadness.

"I said I'm sorry." He grinned. "So, what are you waiting for? When you going to make your move?"

"Hey guys," Joe said, tying on an apron as he took up his usual post behind the bar. "Make your move on what? Oh – you and Lorelai haven't gone out yet?"

Luke looked at Joe. "You know too?"

John snorted. "You weren't exactly Captain Subtle yourself at Sniffy's."

"More like Captain Possessive," Joe chimed in. "Gail loved her, by the way. She thinks you guys make a great couple."

"Who makes a great couple?" Hazel asked, depositing a few used glasses in a bin under the bar. "Oh! You finally asked out Lorelai?"

"Jeez..."

"Oh, sorry," Hazel said. "It's these two's fault–- they sit around gossiping like old biddies, can't help but overhear them."

"Hey!" John objected.

"That's just like women," Joe said. "Complaining that we never talk about our emotions, and then when we have a simple conversation, wondering about the future happiness of a dear friend, we get accused of gossiping..." he shook his head sadly.

Hazel didn't take the bait, turning back to Luke instead. "So, is it official, have you asked her out?"

All three looked at him expectantly. "We agreed to wait until the divorce papers came. Which they did, this morning."

"Oh, I forgot that wasn't official yet. Congratulations," Hazel said. "Though I'm not sure that's the right thing to say…"

"Sure it is. Congratulations, Luke," Joe said gruffly, reaching out to shake his hand. "I know it's not taken lightly, but I remember the relief I felt when mine finally came through."

"Thanks, Joe."

John looked over at Luke. "Any regrets?"

"No, not really."

"No?" Hazel asked.

Luke frowned. "I feel like I should feel sad, but I don't. I did some, back in June, but that's faded, and – I guess I've moved on. Done with my mourning, ready for what's next."

John shrugged. "Can't help how you feel."

Hazel was looking intently at John, Luke noticed. She cleared her throat. "Well, I think it's great that you waited for the official decree and all, but don't wait too long. Time to get the girl."

John looked up at her sharply, but she glanced away.

"You two eating anything, or are you just gonna drink your lunch?" she asked.

John and Luke both ordered sandwiches, and Hazel headed to the kitchen.

Joe cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Looks like there may be more than one impatient woman waiting on you clowns."

Luke smiled as John colored slightly.

"So hey, enough about our…my love life. I need to ask you guys about a cook I might want to hire…"


Robbie, brushed and bathed and pajama-ed, came out of the bathroom and over to where Luke was sitting at the kitchen table. "What are you doing, Daddy?"

Luke pulled him up onto his lap. "I'm looking through some of our family documents."

"What's a document?"

"A document is...this." Luke sifted through the pile and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is your birth certificate. A document is an official piece of paper from the government, that marks something important, like a birth, or a marriage."

"Oh. Does this say California?" Robbie ran his finger over the big word.

"Yup. Because you have were born in California. Here's mine."

"Connecticut?"

"Yup. Grandpa's and Liz's too. But grandma's is from Massachusetts, since that's where she was born." They spent a few minutes looking over the various certificates, comparing birth weights and such.

"Here's another document from California," Luke said.

"What's this one?"

"That's our marriage license."

Robbie looked at the date. "March 15, 1987. That's the year I was born."

"Yup. You were already growing inside mommy, so you were sort of at the wedding."

"You and mommy didn't have a big fancy wedding, right?"

"That's right. We just went down to San Francisco City Hall and got married by a judge. Then we went and had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant."

"Why not?"

"A big party wasn't important to either of us. We just wanted to be married."

"Oh." Robbie was quiet for a minute, thinking. "When did you stop wanting to be married?" he asked.

Luke paused, thinking how to answer. He kissed the top of Robbie's head. "I don't really know, buddy. There wasn't one specific day when we woke up and said, this isn't working. For me, it was when we were in Brazil that I realized I didn't want to keep traveling all over the world, following your mom. That I wanted to stay in one place."

"This place, right?"

"Right."

They were quiet again for a moment, then Luke cleared his throat. "So, today, this came in the mail." He pulled the divorce decree from its envelope and showed Robbie.

"Connecticut," Robbie correctly identified.

"Yup. This is our divorce decree. It means Mommy and I are officially divorced now."

"There's a document for that too?"

"Yes."

"Are you sad?"

"I was, a little bit."

"Why?"

"When you get married, you think, you hope, it will last forever. So it's a little sad to me that it didn't. But I still know it's the best decision for all of us, so it's okay."

Robbie nodded.

"How about you, buddy – does it make you sad?"

"Nope," Robbie said.

Luke chuckled. "Not even a little bit?"

"I like it here. I have you all the time and Mommy some of the time, just like before. And now I have lots of other people too."

"Like who?"

"Rory and Lane and Lorelai and Sookie and Mia. Buddy and Maisie. Aunt Becky and Uncle Dan and Jack and Amanda. Jess. And Aunt Liz, even though I haven't met her yet. They're all coming to my birthday and I'm going to be five."

"I know. You're such a big boy now." Luke pulled out Robbie's birth certificate again. "When you were born, I could fit all 7 lbs. 8 oz. of you in one crook of my arm. Now I can barely fit you in my lap." Luke tickled Robbie's ribs, and squirming and laughter followed.

"Let's go see how much I weigh now!" Robbie cried, jumping off Luke's lap and heading for the bathroom scale.

Luke followed, relieved at his son's peace of mind.

About 20 minutes later, Robbie's almost 40 pound self was tucked into bed and reading stories. The phone rang.

Luke went to answer it. "Hey, Rachel. Perfect timing, he's in bed but not asleep."

Robbie grabbed the phone eagerly. "Mommy! I see you in four days! We're crossing days off the calendar every day...

"Oh. But you're still coming, right?...What does 90% mean?"

Luke paused his folding up of Robbie's clothes, listening.

"Oh."

Now Robbie sounded sad, and Luke felt a surge of anger. But Rachel must have changed the subject, because Robbie began telling her all of the party plans.

Luke moved away, trying to calm down before it was his turn to hear about the 10% chance she wouldn't make it. He puttered around the apartment, tidying up for the evening, until he heard Robbie winding down. He headed back to Robbie's room.

"Okay, bye Mommy. See you Saturday. Here's Daddy."

Luke took the phone, bending down to give Robbie a kiss. "I'll be back in a minute to tuck you in, bud," he told Robbie, who was already turned on his side and snuggling into his pillow. "Hi again," he said, walking back into the main room. "Hey Luke. He's excited about the party."

"He is."

"I am too. I'll definitely be there Saturday."

"Yeah? I heard him ask you about 90%."

"Well, yeah, I'm 90% sure I'll make it in time for the party, 100% sure I'll be there at some point on Saturday."

"I thought you were back in the states Friday."

"There's a one day delay. We're in Morocco, trying to set up a meeting on Friday. Then I'll take an overnight flight, get to Newark early Saturday morning."

"That's cutting it pretty close. 90% seems optimistic."

"Well, I have no choice, Luke. We're trying to set up a meeting with a guy that only I have a connection with. There's no one else."

"There's always a choice. Tell them you'll set it up next time. Or by phone. Tell them missing your son's fifth birthday party is non-negotiable."

"I can't do that."

"You won't do that."

"I can't do it because it's not non-negotiable. I can set up the meeting and still make it back. And if I miss the part with all the other five-year-olds running around pinning tails on donkeys and smearing cake and ice cream all over their faces, he won't even notice."

"He'll notice, Rachel."

"He'll be just as happy to see me later," she insisted.

Luke was silent. Arguing was pointless.

"So...Becky told me that the divorce papers came."

"They did."

"Probably not regretting them right about now, eh?" she said.

"Rachel..."

"Well, anyway, Becky and Dan, my folks and the kids will all be there Saturday morning. If I make it in time I'll be with them, if not I'll drive up on my own."

"Okay. See you Saturday, then. Travel safe, Rachel."

"I will. Bye, Luke."

Luke hung up, standing for a moment with his head down, letting the waves of frustration wash over him. He wondered if this is how it would always be, for every milestone event. Him trying to get her to see how important being here was, her still making choices as they suited her-not Robbie, and not him.

He sighed, and went to check on Robbie.

His little guy, sound asleep, no sign of dried tears or any other distress on his peaceful, sleeping face.

'Follow Robbie,' he heard a voice inside his head say. His mom's, his dad's, his own? Hard to say.

But that's what he'd do. If Robbie was upset, he'd help him to express that, to himself or Rachel, and go from there.

He stopped at the table, neatly stacking the various documents and tucking them back into file folders. The divorce decree rested on top.

"No regrets," he said out loud, tapping it once and closing the file. He crossed over to his father's ancient, indestructible safe, and returned the old documents, plus this newest one, to their place.


Wednesday, August 7

"Carlos, come out and meet the regulars."

"Not done cleaning up yet, Luke," Carlos replied.

Luke glanced around the kitchen. "It looks pretty spotless to me. What's left?"

"I need to get under the burners, clean up any grease that may have splattered down."

Luke grinned. "Better to wait for the burners to cool down. Come on out for a minute."

Carlos fussed with the ties on his apron as he followed Luke out into the dining area. As Luke stood aside and gestured Carlos forward, the small group burst into applause.

"Bravo, chef," Jackson said. "That was delicious." Carlos smiled shyly, and moved forward to shake hands with Jackson and meet the rest of the group.

Carlos' breakfast – Luke had kept the same menu as yesterday – had received great marks across the board. He'd listened carefully to Luke on the hashbrowns, quickly understanding the concept of the deep golden crust Luke wanted. And he performed a key step without being told-removing the chunks of garlic, leaving behind only the flavor.

Even Lorelai, who seemed reluctant to acknowledge anyone to be as good a cook as Luke, closed her eyes in bliss when she took the first bite of her Carlos-made cheeseburger. "Almost as good as yours," she had murmured to Luke. "Almost, but not quite."

Luke watched now as Patty and Lorelai chatted with Carlos. He was still uncertain about hiring an ex-con, but had not filled in Lorelai on Carlos' background, not wanting to influence her first impressions of him. He was glad she was getting acquainted with him first, because he definitely wanted to discuss his final decision with her.

He walked over to join the conversation, pleased to see Carlos holding his own, in his quiet way, with two such talkative and vivacious souls as Lorelai and Patty.

20 minutes later, everyone had left but Lorelai. Luke refilled her coffee cup and took a seat next to her at one of the tables. "Thanks for staying."

"No problem. Mia is letting me keep my schedule light and flexible this week, so I can help you out with the party and opening. And since next week she'll need me to work extra, when she heads to California on Tuesday."

"Oh, that's right. She must really trust you-– I hardly remember her ever taking a vacation before."

"Well, I trust you too, which is why I wanted to talk through my cook decision with you."

"Sure. So…Carlos, right?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not sure. Lay out for me why you think it should be him."

"Well, Chet's cooking was fine, but Carlos' was excellent. And he's a really nice guy, he's older and wiser and more likely to be steady, and, you like him better. His personality is a good fit for you, I think. And, last but not least, you just said about 10 minutes ago that he left the kitchen cleaner than he found it. That's gold, in my book."

Luke nodded as she ran down the list. "All true. But there are some things you don't know."

"Like what?"

"He's been in prison. Twice."

"Oh, wow. I would not have guessed that."

"Well, that's good, actually. And if I do hire him, this goes no further – I'd like him to have a clean slate with the town. Let him share his story if and when he chooses."

"Of course. But he told you, right?"

"Yes, to his credit. Right away, the whole story."

"So, what was he in for?"

Luke filled her in on the details Carlos had given, including the fact that we was a recovering addict and alcoholic.

"He's sober-he's been off drugs for over a decade, and alcohol for two years. He lives and works at a church in Hartford, and the minister and AA group there are his support system. But he wants to return to supporting himself, so getting an independent job like this would be a major step toward that."

"Okay, well, now I see why you're hesitant. Are you still really considering hiring him?"

"Yeah, I am. My gut says to do it. He seems like a good guy, in need of a second chance, and I have a feeling that all of this will make him a better worker not worse. It's like he won't take anything for granted, you know?"

Lorelai nodded. "But?"

"But…you know. Ex-con. Alcoholic. What if his old drug buddies show up, what if he starts drinking again? It makes me nervous. Especially with Robbie and Rory."

"Is there anything in his past involving kids?" Lorelai asked.

"No. I even had John run an independent criminal check on him-he got a friend in the D.A.'s office to do it. Nothing he hadn't already told me about. It's just this vague fear, I guess, of exposing the kids to someone with a past."

"No, I get it."

"I talked to his parole officer, the minister where he lives, and both the warden and his cafeteria boss from prison. From all accounts he's completely cut his ties with former associates – drug dealers, drinking buddies. He's built a completely new, pretty quiet life for himself in Hartford."

"Does he have a family?"

"No wife or kids. His Mom and sisters are in New York City, where he grew up. He has one brother in Hartford, which is part of how he persuaded the parole board to let him move to Connecticut from New York."

"Well, I guess it comes down to if you believe people can change or not. It's like that AA thing – you never stop being an alcoholic, but you can keep yourself from drinking. Do you think he can?"

"He seems like it. I mean, how can you know for sure?"

"You can't. But – I trust him, and I trust you. My gut agrees with yours-that he's a good guy who has truly reformed himself. Maybe I wouldn't hire him as Rory's nanny right away, but I have no qualms about her being around him, here at the diner."

"Yeah? Me neither, really. I mean, I think I'd watch him and Robbie pretty carefully, at first, but I can't imagine there being any real issue."

"Well, here's the test: who would you watch more closely with Robbie, Carlos, or Miss Patty?" she smiled.

Luke laughed. "Good point. Miss Patty, for sure."

"You could always set up a trial period, right?"

"Yeah – that's what John suggested."

"Ooh, I'm as smart as a lawyer!"

Luke smiled. "Smarter."

"Flatterer."

"Okay, well, I'll think on it overnight, and then give him a call in the morning."

"Good," Lorelai said. "Fun stuff now?"

"What fun stuff?" Luke was suspicious, given their different ideas of fun.

"Ok, now, don't get mad…" Lorelai said as she reached down to grab a small shopping bag.

"Nothing good ever comes from that opening..." Luke said.

Lorelai ignored him. "So yesterday I went on a final shopping run for the party…" "Didn't we get everything we needed and more on Monday?"

"Well, I still needed to get a present from me and Rory."

"No you didn't, you've done so much already."

"Hush you-yes we did. Anyway – I found these cool little flip books for the goodie bags. I thought since they weren't plastic you wouldn't mind." She handed one to Luke.

"Oh, I remember these things," he said, smiling. He held the small booklet, about 1" x 3", in his left hand, and pulled his right thumb along the pages to make the pictures flip in rapid succession and create a simple animation. "I always loved these."

"Oh good – and it's a dog flying a plane, so it fits the theme."

"Oh, good. God forbid something doesn't fit the theme."

"And..."

"More?"

"Just one more thing," she said, holding it up.

"Lorelai, I said no candy."

"I know, I know. But it's perfect, it's a chocolate airplane lollipop!"

"I can see that."

"It's an airplane! Made out of chocolate! On a stick! How perfect is that?"

"Just perfect," he agreed sarcastically.

"And chocolate isn't as bad for kids' teeth as regular lollipops– it's full of butterfat, so it doesn't stick like hard candy."

"Yeah, it just slides right down their throats and into their bloodstream and makes them diabetics."

"Gross. You're such an exaggerator."

"Alright, alright. But no more. We've got more than enough now."

"I agree. I'll have Robbie and Rory decorate bags after camp tomorrow, and we'll fill them up on Friday."

"Sounds good. You sure you have time?"

"Yes – like I said, I'm all yours, for now. Next week, when Mia's away, not so much."

"Well, thanks. Thanks for all your help on the party, and for everything."

"You're welcome. I love doing this stuff." She reached over and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Luke cleared his threat. "So, I have some other news."

"Good news?"

"Yes."

"Then by all means spill it."

"The divorce decree came."

Lorelai smiled. "It did? When?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh, that's so good," she said, taking a deep breath in and then letting it out. "That makes me so happy. Is it okay that that makes me so happy?"

Luke smiled. "Yes. You of all people should be allowed to be 100% happy at that news."

She cocked her head. "Are you?"

"I am," he said simply. And it was the truth.

They did the staring into each other's eyes thing for a minute or two, and then Lorelai asked, "So...when can I expect the wooing to begin?"

Luke grinned. "Well, I did feed you cheeseburgers for breakfast two days in a row, does that count?"

Lorelai's eyes lit up. "Ooh, you're right. Take me upstairs, have your way with me."

He knew she was joking, but an overwhelming desire to do just that slammed into him, and he once again found himself staring into her eyes.

"Wow," she said softly.

"What?" he asked.

"Your eyes just turned three shades of blue darker. I thought that only happened in novels with heaving-bosomed women and bare-chested men on the covers."

"We're not a romance novel, Lorelai. This is for real."

"I know," she said. "That's what makes it so tempting, and scary, all at the same time."

"Very tempting."

They continued staring, Luke almost curious to see who'd pull back first. His eyes traveled across her lovely face, the curve of her cheek, down to the tumble of her dark curls, and the slightest hint of cleavage at the vee of her crisp cotton work blouse. He pictured her in his bed upstairs, still lovely, more flushed, hair tousled, blouse cast aside. Kissing and talking, laughing and feeling. Taking their time.

Time.

He sighed. There was no time. He wanted there to be plenty of it, to do things right.

He cleared his throat, and reached out to cover her hands with his. "Very tempting. But…"

"But?"

"Date first?"

"Date first," she agreed. She blushed. "Um, just to be clear: dates. Dates first. I'm not really a sleep together on the first date kind of girl, you know, in spite of what people might think what with me getting pregnant at 15 and all. Not that I've dated enough to have a policy per se, and I've never dated like this before, going out with someone I already know so well and trust so much. Not that I know you that well, but…"

"Lorelai…"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay. Multiple dates, months, years…however long it takes until it's the right time."

"Uh, years?" she said. "Let's not get crazy."

"Okay," he agreed. "Are you alright?"

"I am. Sometimes I just get a little overwhelmed at the…realness of…us. This," she said, gesturing between the two of them.

"What do you mean?"

"It just…happened so quickly, in a way-falling for you. And then it feels like it's taking so long, to really be together. It seems so simple, and easy, just being in each other's lives. And then it seems really complicated."

"Like this weekend?"

"Yeah, this weekend is freaking me out a little."

"It is? You seem so calm."

"I am, about the party and stuff. That's easy, and fun. But the rest -– Rachel back, and her family, and everyone staying at the Inn."

"Rachel called last night, by the way, to tell Robbie she might not make it on time to the party."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Is Robbie okay?"

"I think so. He believes her that she'll get here on time. I'm more skeptical."

Lorelai bit her lip, considering. "Well, worse comes to worse, he'll notice if she's not here, but he'll have a lot to distract him."

"Yeah," Luke said glumly. "Well, even if she doesn't make it to the party, you still have to deal with her later at the Inn, and her family. I feel bad about that-I get to just hang out here, see them for a few hours. You'll be around them all weekend."

Lorelai shrugged. "Well, not really. I'm not working many hours until next week. I'm just…stressed. It's like what you said the other night. When it's just us, it's simple. But when I think about adding in other people, I get nervous."

"I know. This weekend is hard. It's the first time I've seen them all since we got divorced. Things could be a little raw. But it'll get better, after this first time."

Lorelai drew in a shaky breath. "I know."

"And, the other stuff – the dating stuff. All I want is to spend some time alone with you, to have fun, just the two of us. That's what I care about."

"So you don't want to take me upstairs and have your way with me?" she asked, half teasingly.

"I want to go upstairs and have our way with each other. That sounds like all kinds of fun." He waggled his eyebrows. "But that can wait."

"Okay."

"Let's get through the party, and the opening, and you taking extra shifts next week, and then…we'll go from there."

"Sounds good."


Friday, August 7

"Aunt Liz is for sure coming?" Robbie asked for the third time in as many minutes, standing on the bench at the bus stop and bouncing impatiently. For almost 8 o'clock at night, he had a lot of energy, Luke noted with dismay.

"Yes," Luke assured him. "She called me from a pay phone at the bus station in New York. They were getting on the 5pm bus, which puts them here at 8."

"What time is it?"

Luke smiled. "Two minutes later than when you asked before.""So…" Robbie concentrated. "7:57?"

"Yes." Luke hoped the bus would be on time.

"Are you sure it was…" Robbie began again.

Luke cut him off, looking at his watch again. "Okay, 7:59, let's start counting down. "60, 59, 58…"

Counting backwards took a lot of concentration for a boy on his last day of being four. By the time they got to 10, it was 8:01 and Luke could hear the bus approaching.

"Five, four, three, two, one!" Robbie shouted the last sequence. "It's here! They're here!" Still standing on the bench, he craned his neck to try and see inside the bus as it pulled up to the curb.

Luke held out his hand to Robbie. "Hop down, little guy," he said. Robbie did, keeping hold of Luke's hand, practically dancing in place by his side.

Three people got off the bus right away, and in that next moment Luke worried that something had in fact held up Liz and Jess. But then he saw Liz' sandy blonde head through the window, and then there was Jess, stepping off the bus, backpack on, small duffel bag in hand.

"Jess!" Robbie yelled, running forward and throwing his arms around his cousin. Jess returned the hug somewhat awkwardly but grinned broadly and genuinely.

"Jess," Luke said warmly, pulling his nephew into a one-armed hug and ruffling his hair. "Good to have you back."

"Hi Robbie, hi Uncle Luke."

"Big brother!" Liz announced dramatically, dropping her bags at her feet and flinging her arms open for a hug. Luke stepped into it, happier than he had realized he would be to have his sister back in Stars Hollow.

"Where's Robbie, where's Robbie?"

"Here I am Aunt Liz," Robbie said from behind Luke.

Liz placed her hand on her heart. "Aunt Liz, oh my god, I'm his aunt."

She crouched down to Robbie's level down and stared at him. He stared back.

"My god, you're adorable," she said. Robbie looked shyly at the ground. "God, Luke, he looks just like you did when you were little." She reached out and touched Robbie's curls. "The color's a little different but the curls are just the same. He's going to be a heart breaker," she said glancing up at Luke. "You're going to be a heart breaker, kid, just like your dad was in high school. Just ask my friend Carrie…"

"Liz," Luke said, warningly.

She grinned. "Hug?" She asked, turning back to Robbie. He grinned back and shyly curled his arms around her neck. She stood up, pulling him with her. "I think we're going to be good buddies, you and me," Luke heard her whisper.

He smiled, giving Jess' shoulders another squeeze. "You're okay with your bags there Jess?" he asked, stooping to pick up Liz's two larger bags.

"Yup."

"Come on then," Luke said to the group. "Let's go get you all settled."

Robbie wiggled out of Liz' hold but held her hand once he was back on the ground. "Come see the diner, Aunt Liz. It looks really different from when it was a hardware store."

"I'll bet it does," she said, as they all headed across the square toward the diner.

They got the official tour.

"I can't believe this used to be the dusty old hardware store and office. It looks amazing, Luke!"

Luke was pleased at Liz's praise. They headed back upstairs.

"You've been working really hard."

"I have."

"You must be excited. Are you excited?"

"I am. It's been a dream for a long time, to have my own business."

"But you have help, right? You've hired good people?"

"Yup. Two so far. They're coming tomorrow. Erin, she's a college student and one of Robbie's camp counselors, she'll be waitressing. And Carlos, he's a cook."

"Sounds good. And I know you'll treat them right, not like my jerk of a boss."

"I will. Is he really that bad?"

"Eh – he's just a jerk. Gave me a hard time about taking three days off, even though I haven't had a vacation all summer – and I came back early for Memorial Day."

"Right," Luke nodded, remembering the events of that weekend. "Hey Liz, you know I told you the house sold above asking. I talked to Joanne at the bank, arranged for your monthly payment to be higher."

"Oh, that's great."

"You know, in case maybe you wanted to quit your job, find something better. Or maybe go back to school?" Luke added hopefully.

"School?" Liz frowned. "I don't know about that."

"Well, whatever. You figure it out."

Luke had been making tea for them while they talked. They sat down at the kitchen table to drink it.

"Daddy can we have something to eat? Jess is hungry and so am I," Robbie asked, coming out from his room where he had been showing Jess the new bunk beds.

"Sure…" Luke glanced at his watch, wondering again just how long it would be before he actually got Robbie to sleep.

"Could we have bananas and milk?" Robbie asked. "I was telling Jess that was my favorite bedtime snack."

"Ha! We used have that all the time when we were little," Liz recalled.

"Sure. Jess, do you want that, or something bigger, maybe a sandwich?"

"Nope. I'll try the bananas. Sometimes I have cereal at night."

"We've got that too."

Luke sliced bananas up into bowls for the two boys, and brought milk to the table. He helped Robby pour it over his banana slices, then offered it to Jess.

"Sugar?" Robbie asked hopefully.

"The bananas are sweet enough. And you're getting lots of extra sugar tomorrow, don't forget."

"Oh, right." Robbie smiled broadly. "My party's going to be so much fun."

Once they were done eating, Luke got both boys to get ready for bed in exchange for a promise that they could stay up a little longer to read.

He and Liz continued to sit and talk. Luke could heard Jess' voice, reading to Robbie, and eventually all was quiet. A little while later, he poked his head in the room. Robbie was sound asleep in the upper bunk, and Jess had climbed back down to the lower.

"Lights out soon, Jess," he said. "Have a good sleep."

"Okay Uncle Luke, you too."

It was almost midnight, and Luke was still awake. He laid on his back with his hands folded under his head, back on the air mattress for the weekend. His thoughts were racing, first going back over the evening, then forward to tomorrow, and onward to Monday and the opening for real, and then finally back to the decision to hire Carlos, and telling Lorelai about the divorce being final.

He missed Lorelai. She had been here all afternoon, with him and the kids, supervising the goody bags and finalizing all the party plans, full of life and energy and patience.

But he wished they could just jump ahead, say six months, and maybe she could be here with him. He pictured lying in bed with her, running his fingers through her hair, soothing himself and her to sleep after a long full day of work and parenting. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. She'd be here bright and early in the morning, and simply having her near would keep him calm, and ensure that the events of the day would unfold smoothly.

Turning on his side, willing himself to breathe more slowly, he tried to relax into sleep. He listened carefully for Robbie's breathing, and found that it was hard to distinguish from Jess'. He turned his head slightly the other way and heard Liz's gentle snores from the direction of his bed.

A sense of peace settled over him, to have his sister back under the same roof with him after so much time apart. It's something it had never occurred to him to miss, but thinking about it now made sense. He had lived in the same house with her for 20 years, longer than anyone else except his dad. He'd fought with her, played with her, worried about her, fed her – taking every day for granted, aggravated at her more often than not.

It felt good to have her back.

He yawned and relaxed further. His last thoughts were of tomorrow, not knowing exactly what it would bring, but eager to get to it.