Luke's eyes were boring a hole into the back of her nice dinner dress. It was starting to freak her out. She looked at him, sitting on the bed, wrinkling the one pair of slacks that he owned.
"What's with the face?" she asked. "This dress show too much cleave or do you need me to request you a big glass of prune juice tonight?"
"We don't have to go to dinner tonight, you know that right?" Luke asked.
"I'm not wasting great blow out like this on a night in. We're going."
"Lorelai, I'm serious."
"That is true. You are seriously overreacting. My mother has never liked me. Her admitting it in therapy a few days ago doesn't change anything. It's not a big deal."
"Lorelai-"
"Plus, I'm dealing with it in a healthy way. I'm talking to you, my husband, about it. I'm going to tell Esther, my therapist, about it. I cried, I journaled a whole paragraph about it on a Starbucks napkin. I mean, I'm the poster girl of well-adjusted therapy-goers. I deserve a medal with how well I'm dealing with this."
Luke didn't look convinced.
"And the fact that I can go and have dinner with her without setting my very flammable childhood home on fire is a testament to my well adjusted-ness."
She threw herself into Luke's laps and gave him a kiss. "So stop being a poopy-pants, take off your hat, put on your tie, and let's get this show on the road."
"If you say so," Luke said tossing his hat off.
"I do say so," Lorelai replied jumping off his lap.
Luke rummaged through his dresser. "What tie should I wear? I know your mom hates the yellow one you gave me."
"She does. Wear that one."
He looked up at the sound of the doorbell. "You expecting someone?" he asked Lorelai.
"No. Might be a Jehovah's Witness."
"I don't think they're allowed to be out at night."
"Mom," James yelled up the stairs, "It's grandma. You wanna pretend we're not home again?"
"Wouldn't work," Lorelai said to Luke, "Our cars are in the driveway."
Damn the garage being full of all her crap. She yelled down to James "Yeah, let her in!"
"Did she forget we were coming by or what?" asked Luke.
"Or what. Might as well go meet my maker."
Emily stood in the foyer, diligently listening to James talk about whatever 8-year-olds talked about.
"Lorelai," she said, "You walk around barefoot now? How cultured."
"Either that or break my neck trying to walk downstairs in 5-inch heels. Mom, what are you doing here? It's Friday. We go over there, we eat, we talk, we have a grand ole' time, remember?"
"I felt like a change of pace and thought we could have dinner here."
"Mom I can guarantee you that you will not want anything Luke cooks. He's lovely but he's not a Michelin star chef you've beat into submission."
"Fine. Let's order in." Emily replied.
"I want Dominos!" James said.
"The fast-food place? There aren't any authentic Italian restaurants around here?"
"There's Magello's but my teacher's older brother runs that place and he's Albanian," James said.
"Albanian? From Albania? I won't have any of that." Emily said before sighing. "I guess I'll have a salad from Dominos."
"I'll have you know that those fine people at Magello's are hardworking and have a passable Italian accent," Lorelai said.
"No thank you. Run and grab the phone James so I can place my order." Emily replied.
"I'll just order it online," James replied.
"Ordering on the phone must be faster," Emily replied.
"Nah. Plus, if I order on the phone, I won't know the exact second my pizza goes into the oven. That's my favorite part!" James said as he ran to his bedroom.
"I better go supervise. If I don't we're gonna end up with a mac and cheese pizza or some crap like that." Luke said before walking after him.
"Here mom, let me take your coat." Lorelai offered.
"Lorelai I need to talk to you," Emily replied, not moving to disrobe at all.
"Uh, okay," Lorelai replied as she lowered her arms. "I thought we were already making nice dinner convo, but whatever. Shoot."
"I want to talk about what happened in therapy," Emily replied.
Lorelai blinked. Then she chuckled. "Mom, do you want a drink?" she asked before walking into the kitchen.
"Lorelai did you hear me?" Emily asked as she followed. "I said I wanted to talk about what happened in therapy."
Lorelai dropped a pair of shot glasses onto the counter and pulled out a bottle of gin from the fridge. "How about gin?" she asked, "You still drink gin?"
Without waiting for a response, Lorelai poured herself and her mother each a healthy portion.
"Bottoms up," she said as she knocked it back.
"Lorelai, you're being ridiculous. You make me spend all that money on therapy and you don't even have the decency to discuss it like an adult."
Lorelai pursed her lips and pointed to the back door. "Get out."
Emily put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?"
"If I'm going to screech at you in the middle of the night I'd rather do in the yard with the rest of the alley cats. Now move."
Ignoring her bare feet, Lorelai followed her mother outside to the back porch and closed the door behind her.
"You're going to catch ringworm standing out here without your shoes on Lorelai," Emily said as she crossed her arms.
"You said you wanted to talk about what happened in therapy. So talk."
Emily pursed her lips. "I understand that what happened in therapy was hurtful for you."
"Okay."
"But I think that continuing therapy together could help dissolve this mutual hatred we have for each other."
"Are we on the same plane of reality here?" Lorelai asked as she squinted her eyes. "Mutual hatred? No, no. This is a 'you' problem, not a 'me' problem."
"Be realistic, Lorelai. It wouldn't be the first time a Gilmore didn't have a taste for me. You're a mosquito bite compared to your grandmother. God bless her soul, wherever it is."
"This is kind of amazing," Lorelai replied, leaning against the porch railing, "Like, my mind is blown. You are the most self-centered person on the face of the universe but you never noticed how jealous I am of you."
"Jealous of me? Are you kidding? What exactly are you jealous of?"
"Everything, mom. How could you not see that?"
"Oh please. You think everything I do is a joke. That I'm a joke. You're always laughing at me."
"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at me! I can't do anything you can do. I could never do anything you do. And you and dad and everyone we knew never let me forget it." Lorelai stared out into the dark outside and sighed. "Did you know that in 6th grade Bethany Platz asked me if you accidentally took home a janitor's kid?"
"Children are cruel Lorelai, you should know that."
"That's not the point, mom. The point is that even children could not believe that you, Emily Gilmore, the woman their parents would kill to be, had this mess of a kid. I know you think I stopped trying to have anything to do with you but I was just mad as hell I couldn't do anything you could do. And I had to laugh because if I wasn't laughing at the fact that I couldn't memorize table settings or that I couldn't write a perfect thank-you note, I would not have made it."
Lorelai sighed again. "And even though I knew that I would never figure it out, I tried mom. I really, really tried for a long time."
"Really now? I suppose you tried very hard when you ran off with Rory."
"I ran off with Rory because I didn't want her to turn out like me. You have standards that Edmund Hillary couldn't reach. She didn't need to live like that."
"So living in a trussed up hovel at the back of the hotel was better than a nanny, finishing school, the best education–"
"Yes, it was! It was better than her ending up like me."
Emily pressed her lips together in a tight line.
"I was–am that dog that gets rescued from a bad situation and keeps going back until somebody has to put it out of its misery. I can't help it. So, mom, we're going to keep going around in this circle until you man up and give me the Old Yeller treatment. What's it gonna be?"
Emily's nostrils flared. "I'm going to make sure that James didn't forget my salad. Put some shoes on."
Lorelai leaned over the porch and listened to the sound of the back door swing closed behind her.
She stood alone in the quiet of the night before Luke joined her.
"Still barefoot, huh?"
"Oh yeah. I'm going, full native. I'll be living in the bush by next week."
"You plan on staying out here all night?" He asked.
"Gimme a sec' before I get back on the express train into Emily Gilmore hell."
"You need me out here?"
"My little piggies could use some protection," Lorelai said with a smile.
"Gotcha." Luke squeezed her shoulders and ran back inside.
Lorelai looked down at her feet. They did need protection.
Maybe her heart does too.