Luke kept getting up to go look at his brand-new lunch counter. He couldn't believe that so much progress had been made in such a short span of time.
Down on the floor behind him, an impromptu party was going on. Liz and Oliver, Lorelai, Mia, Jess, and Rory had shown up just as the construction crew was leaving for the day. They'd brought pizzas and a picnic blanket, as well as a box of cookies from Weston's that the kids kept trying to break open.
"It's the only way we're sure of seeing you," Mia informed him, when he'd questioned why they were there.
Still munching on the crust from a piece of pizza, he went to stand in the newly-created doorway to what was – in just a matter of days – going to be the kitchen, the main piece of his culinary dream. Almost finished. Almost ready to use.
He took a deep breath. The imminent conclusion of the kitchen area meant that soon he was going to have to step up and do his part, and show that he could cook, not just for fun, but for profit. The pizza crust suddenly didn't taste quite as good.
"Look at this, Luke." Mia had snuck up on him, and now, standing beside him, she put her arm around his waist to give him a squeeze. "Look how amazing this is."
"What's amazing is that they were able to move this along so fast. A couple of weeks ago I thought it was all over. Instead, I need to figure out when opening day is going to be."
Mia stepped further into the kitchen space and looked it over. "What's left to do?"
"Not much. Mainly just some finish work, then it's fitting the counters and bringing in the appliances. My head's spinning, though. It all happened so fast."
"I think Tom was happy to do you a good turn. You know he thought the world of your dad."
Luke scoffed. "I think Tom was just happy to get paid."
Mia turned and looked at him seriously. "Tom would have continued with or without pay. From what I understand, you were the one who insisted he and the crew leave."
Luke stared at her. "What world do you live in, Mia? Because in mine, people tend to get nasty when they're expected to work for free."
"I think you underestimate the goodwill that your father built up."
"I'm not running a business based on goodwill. I'm planning on having a business based on what I can do myself." An image floated through his consciousness, of a check written on a Hartford bank, and he sighed. "Except, I guess I'm not quite doing that yet." He shook his head, ready to change the subject. "Hey, thanks for bringing along a salad for me. My diet's been lacking any sort of healthy options lately."
"I didn't bring you a salad."
"What do you mean?" He pointed back over his shoulder. "I just got done eating it!"
"The salad was Lorelai's idea. She's the one who asked the kitchen to fix it for you."
"She…I…That's…" Luke stopped talking until his brain could put a full thought together. "Then, that was thoughtful of her."
"She's aware of how much eating on the run you've been doing. She thought you'd appreciate something that wasn't smothered in cheese or fried."
"I guess she knows me better than I thought she did." He shrugged, not allowing himself to think too deeply about Lorelai's kind gesture.
Mia looked slightly uncomfortable, but she pressed on, lowering her voice so that what she was going to say next would stay just between them. "Has she said anything to you?"
Luke chuckled at that. "You'll have to be more specific, since she talks all the time, which you well know."
"About the fight you had at the inn. What you said to her that day continues to worry her."
He looked at Mia in surprise. "That was weeks ago!"
"I know. And some of the things you said to her then are still weighing on her."
Luke glanced back over his shoulder, to where he could hear the kids laughing and running around the large open space. The three adults were chatting and finishing up the pizza. "Are you sure? I mean, she seems fine to me."
"Then maybe she does know you better than you know her." Mia fixed her gaze on him in a way that made him think she was trying to tell him more than what she was saying.
He'd taken to wearing an old baseball cap, to keep some of the construction dirt out of his hair. He took it off now and hit it against his leg, dislodging some of the debris from the day. That action also gave him something to do while he considered what she'd said. He put the hat back on, backwards, this time. It now seemed more normal to have it on his head than not.
"Well, OK. I'll try to talk to her, then. I don't want her fretting over something that's over and done with."
"Good," Mia nodded. "Just – Don't let her know that I'm the one who tipped you off about it, please."
Luke blinked twice at the unusual look on Mia's face. On anyone else he would have thought it was guilt. But what did Mia have to feel guilty about?
"I won't. I'll take care of it," he promised.
"We'll leave it at that, then." She took his arm and gently tugged. "Let's go rejoin the others. I'm sure the children are ready to get at the cookies."
"If you think Liz and Lorelai haven't already opened the box, you're crazy," he pointed out. But he went into the store area with her and sat down on the blanket.
"So, Luke," Oliver said, pointing around the space. "What's still on the list to do? It looks done, as far as I can see."
"It is, mostly," Luke agreed. He reached for a sugar cookie from the already-opened box. "In here, there's just a general clean-up and then the painting to do, before we can move everything back in. Well, there's a little bit of flooring, over at the threshold into the kitchen, but that's it. I've been doing some calculating about how to put everything back. I'm going to consolidate the hardware aisles over in this area." He waved towards the wall hiding the staircase. "That will leave a space at the front windows for a couple of small tables and chairs, where people can sit down and eat."
"That's a great idea!" Liz said.
"Yeah, that's smart," Oliver said. "Let the people out on the street see customers eating in here."
"Well, I hope there will be that many customers eating in here. Could be the counter seating will be more than enough," Luke said wryly.
"Are you kidding? Lorelai's Café is going to pack them in!" The one pushing her own name winked at him.
"Lorelai's Café exists only in your imagination."
"Whatever it's called, it's going to be amazing. But you're passing up on a marketing dream, not naming it after me." She grinned at him, sugar crystals sparkling on her lips.
He looked at her thoughtfully, trying to see whatever distress Mia insisted was there, but all he could see were the sugar crystals. Unconsciously, he licked his own lips.
Lorelai tilted her head at him. "Are you OK?"
"Sure, fine," he insisted, quickly looking away. He motioned towards the counter. "Just thinking about what still needs to be done."
"When are they going to paint?" Oliver asked.
"Whenever I find the time to do it," Luke answered.
"You're doing it?"
"That's the plan. It's definitely something I can do, which frees up some extra hours for the construction guys to finish the last odds and ends. I thought I'd just take care of it after they leave one day. Maybe tomorrow or the next night, depending on how soon I can get the cleaning done in here."
"I'll paint," Lorelai volunteered immediately.
He zeroed in on her, now concerned that painting was some kind of penance she thought she still needed to pay. "You're not painting."
"I like painting."
"No one likes painting."
She looked at him tolerantly. "You said the same thing to me about washing dishes. After all this time, you still doubt me?"
"Seriously, do you even know how to paint?"
She laughed and Mia chuckled along with her. "He has no idea, does he, Mia?"
"No, he does not," Mia agreed.
"When we first moved into the potting shed, I asked Mia if I could repaint the walls. They were this dull beige, and I wanted something that looked more me."
Mia nodded. "Of course, I said yes, that was fine."
Lorelai nodded too, then crossed her legs Indian style, getting ready to tell the whole story. "I picked out this beautiful pink. It was feminine and I was obsessed with pink right then, being the new mama of a little girl."
"You still like pink," Liz observed.
"True. Anyway, liking the color pink is one thing, and being enclosed in a small space with four vibrant pink walls is something else. It felt like being in someone's mouth. I had newfound empathy for Pinocchio, being trapped in Monstro the Whale."
Liz laughed. "Ick!"
"Jiminy Cricket!" Rory shouted, while Jess made donkey noises, proving once again that the kids missed nothing in the adults' conversation.
"So I painted again. This time, I went with a blue palette. Two walls were a sky blue, and the other two were more of a teal."
"That sounds OK," Liz commented.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But it was still too much color, and once on the walls, it clashed somehow, even though the paint samples looked great together. And the teal just sucked in all the light. It was like living in a cave."
Oliver had been sitting with his head down, listening thoughtfully. "But, wait. Your place now. Aren't the walls beige?"
"Yes, they are. My third repainting try went back to the original, except for the wall by the bed. That's a pale blue."
Luke tried to picture it, but he couldn't. The only time he'd been in her place was the time he carried a sleeping Rory inside, and there wasn't enough light to see any details. And his thoughts, that night, hadn't been tuned in to decorating.
"So, Luke," Mia told him, "when Lorelai says she knows how to paint, believe her."
"I'm something of an expert," Lorelai bragged.
"Why don't we all come paint?" Oliver suggested. "Tell us when, and we'll all come over to give you a hand."
"Oh, you don't need to –"
"Painting party!" Liz proclaimed, clapping her hands.
"What's the color?" Lorelai wanted to know. "Because I am great when it comes to picking them out!"
"No need," Luke told her. "I've already picked out the perfect shade of beige."
"Ugh. Really?" Lorelai turned up her nose.
"I don't think you have room to complain," Liz said.
"Yeah, but…beige? Really?" she protested.
"No, it's not beige. I went with the same colors that are already on the walls, Linen Sage and Meadowbrook Morning. Which I wouldn't normally know, except that I had to look them up to order them."
"You're doing the same thing that's already here?" Lorelai questioned, horrified.
"Again, you have no room to talk," Liz cheerfully pointed out to her friend.
"It's just easier." Luke shrugged. "Paint over what's already there, and tie in the new part."
"All right, fine," Lorelai grumbled. "But I think you're missing out on a chance to change up the ambiance."
"Since when does a lunch counter need ambiance?"
Lorelai sadly shook her head at him. "Everything needs ambiance, my friend."
"And sparkles," Liz added.
"No ambiance. No sparkles, either," Luke said sternly.
"See? That's why you need me here," Oliver told him. "I'll be part of the anti-sparkle brigade."
Luke gave up. "I think you people are all crazy, but if you really want to lend a hand, I won't turn you down. I'll let you know when it's ready to paint."
"Woohoo! The painting party is on!" Liz shouted, waving her hands over her head.
"Awesome! Who knows some painting songs?" Lorelai wanted to know.
Liz brought along a radio, so they didn't need to know any painting songs after all. They painted to the Top 40 hits. Whenever a Journey song came on, Liz and Oliver broke away to dance to it.
Luke had hired Kirk to help, but he was more in the way than the kids were. Luke soon paid him off and sent him home.
Liz faded next. She gathered up Jess and Rory and took them with her, telling Lorelai that Rory could just spend the night and she'd drop her off at nursery school the next morning.
"What about clothes?" Lorelai protested.
"I'll use whatever's in the backpack," Liz said. "And if that doesn't work, she can wear something of Jess's. No one will know. Or care."
"Yeah, you're probably right. OK," Lorelai reluctantly agreed. "That does make sense, I guess. Thanks." Then she kissed and hugged Rory so much that Luke wasn't sure she was ever going to let her go.
Oliver held out for a couple more hours before he called it a night. "Sorry, guys. I can't keep my eyes open anymore."
"No problem." Luke clapped him on the back as he walked him to the door. "I can't thank you enough for your help."
Oliver shrugged on his coat as he looked around. "I'll come back and help finish up tomorrow. Don't kill yourselves trying to do what's left tonight, you two."
"There's not that much," Lorelai said staunchly, still up on a ladder.
Oliver raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Luke.
"Don't worry," Luke said quietly. "I'll get her out of here soon."
"I heard that, and no, you won't," Lorelai said, dipping her roller once again into the Linen Sage.
Luke and Oliver looked at each other and sighed. "Thanks, man," Luke said, opening the door for him.
"I'll check in tomorrow," Oliver promised.
Then he was gone, and the songs on the radio seemed to emphasize how big and empty the place was, with just the two of them remaining.
He glanced over at Lorelai, up on the ladder. "You don't need to stay. You've got to be exhausted, too."
"There's not that much left to do," she protested. "Just this wall yet, and then all of the big part's done. Just let me finish this."
"OK," he reluctantly agreed. "But tell me when you've reached your limit. I know you've still got to get up and go to work tomorrow."
She turned his way and hit him with one of those dazzling smiles. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. After all, I'm the mother of a four-year-old. Believe me, this won't be my first all-nighter. At least no one is up puking."
"There's something to cling to," Luke muttered.
He intended to go back to the trim work he was painting. But instead he stood there for a few minutes longer, watching her work.
She had on old, paint-spattered jeans and a t-shirt that looked as though it had been washed a million times. She'd tied a bandana around the top of her head, to shield her curls from the majority of the paint splatters. She looked fairly ridiculous. But also…adorable. So adorable that he was mesmerized by the wild thought of going over to the ladder and pulling her off of it. Catching her in his arms. Carrying her over to the counter, where he could finally –
He groaned softly and covered his eyes with one hand. Usually he was really good at censoring those sort of thoughts about Lorelai before they got so detailed, but tonight, his own exhaustion had let this one break through. There didn't seem to be any way to stop it before the whole thing played out in his head.
"Hey, Luke?"
"What?" he snapped, irritated by his own guilty conscience.
"Never mind," she said quickly, and went back to work.
"No, what is it?"
"Could I…could I ask you something?"
"Might as well." He went across the space and picked up the small paint brush he was using.
"I just…I wondered…" She took in a big breath of air. "Are you still mad at me?"
"Why? What did you do?" he asked suspiciously. He looked around at all the walls he could see. "Did you paint something pink?"
"No, although that would have been an awesome idea." She sighed. "Missed opportunity," she grumbled.
"Then what is it?"
She balanced the roller across the top of the ladder and stared down at it. "The whole thing about me going to my parents to get you a loan. Are you still mad at me about that?"
He inhaled sharply. So Mia was right; that argument between them was still weighing on her. "No, Lorelai. I'm not mad about that."
She glanced over at him. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure. I'm over it. I'm not mad at you."
She nodded, but she bit her lips, as if she wasn't convinced. "And what about the rest of it?"
"What rest of it?"
She hung her head. "You said you couldn't forgive me," she practically whispered, but in the empty room he could hear her clearly, even over the music on the radio.
He was stunned. Shocked beyond words that something he'd said had such an impact on her. Astonished that she'd take to heart anything he'd say.
"Lorelai…You understand, right? I was angry that day, so, so angry. I said that because I was still mad. I didn't mean…I never meant for you to think I was serious about it."
"But you were serious about it."
"That day, right then, yes. But that was before I had a chance to work through it. I mean, let's face it. I doubt that there's anything you could do that I wouldn't forgive. Eventually," he tagged on, hoping that maybe she'd hear the teasing in the word and smile again.
She didn't. "I know that day I said I wasn't sorry, but I am, Luke. I'm sorry – well, not that I went to my folks. I'm still glad that all worked out for you. But I'm sorry that I didn't think more about how it would feel to you. I'm sorry that I upset you so much. I knew you'd be irritated at me, but I didn't appreciate how much deeper it would go. But I understand now, and I am sorry. I never meant to offend you, or insult you, or however it felt to you. That wasn't my intention at all."
He gave up and walked over to the ladder, so that he could look her in the face. "You get what I was the most upset about, don't you?"
She heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure. I have a lot to pick from."
"What bothered me the most was that you didn't discuss it with me first. It hurt that you cut me out of something that should have been my decision. It felt like a slap to the face. Like you were basically telling me to go sit down and shut up, that you'd handle it. Even though it wasn't your thing to handle at all."
"Luke, no. That's not –" She squeezed her eyes shut and grasped the top of the ladder. "That wasn't my intention at all. All I cared about was trying to get you some help as quickly as possible." She opened her eyes and looked down at him. "Besides, be honest. If I would have suggested it to you, you never would have gone along with it. You would have shot down the whole thing immediately."
"Probably. But you're not taking into account how persuasive you can be."
"You think I'm persuasive?"
"And persistent. I'm sure you would have eventually worn me down."
"Yeah. Right," she scoffed.
"And then, once you'd made me see reason, we could have gone to Hartford together. I could have presented all the renovation plans and answered any questions right then. Then it would have been me asking for help. Instead I looked like a coward, sending you there to beg on my behalf."
She winced. "Again, that's not the way I saw it."
"I know you didn't. But that was the way it felt to me." He paused briefly. "And if I'd been there with you, I could have protected you from any of the torture they dealt out to you. Which I'm still more than halfway convinced happened, despite the car shopping that's been going on."
She finally smiled at that. "The only torture was in my own head."
"Then I guess I have to believe that. And you have to believe me that I've forgiven you. Completely."
"And I am sorry, Luke. Truly."
"Great. It's all settled, then." He turned to go back to his own work.
"We're good, right?" she asked, as if she still needed one more reassurance from him.
"Sure, of course we're –" He broke off abruptly. The word good suddenly seemed ridiculous to describe the way they related to each other. It was so much more than that. "We're…we're…" He held up his hands and hooked his index fingers together, but that looked suggestive to him, so he dropped them hastily. "Look, what we've got is something beyond good. I've had plenty of friends – girlfriends included – but I've never had anybody that I can talk to the way I do you. I've never had somebody whose opinion I've cared about as much as I do yours. So we're…we're…" He still couldn't come up with the proper term. "We're good," he sighed, giving up.
"Am I like a sister to you, Luke?" she taunted him. "Is that what you're trying to say?"
He stood up straight and faced her down. "No, you are definitely not my sister," he told her unfalteringly. "I don't think of you like a sister at all."
Amazingly, as soon as he took a stand, she backed down. She grabbed the roller and went to work on the wall. "Good talk," she threw over her shoulder at him. "Give me maybe another half hour and I'll be done here."
"Great," he said, and tried to concentrate on something other than the way her t-shirt stretched across her chest as she wielded the roller.
It was more like an hour later when she got down off the ladder for the final time and rubbed at the sore spot on her back. "I'm done," she announced, and walked by him to carry the roller and pan into the kitchen. "I'll go wash these things up. And probably me, too," she laughed, pointing at some spots on her arms.
"I can clean up," he told her. "Let's just get you home."
"No problem." He heard the water hitting in the sink. "This won't take but a minute."
He got up and stretched, too, then idly walked over to inspect the finished paint job. He couldn't believe how great it looked. The old and the new blended together seamlessly.
Except…
"Lorelai!" he yelled out. "Don't wash out the roller yet! You missed a spot!"
"No, I didn't!" she yelled back.
"Yes, you did!" he insisted, too tired to be tactful. "I'm looking right at it!" He walked over to the end of the counter, pointing, as if she was there to see him do it.
But it turned out, she was right there. "I didn't miss it, Luke," she said quietly. "I didn't paint it on purpose."
"Why in the world would you…" By then, he was close enough to see some letters. "Jesus," he gasped out, and dropped down on his knees. He reached out his hands towards the unpainted spot.
"Careful," she warned him. "Everything around it is still wet."
"I can't believe I forgot about this." He looked over at her, because she was now down on the floor right next to him. "God, how could I have forgotten about this?"
She looked pleased. "So it does mean something!"
"It does. It's one of Dad's favorite stories." Sometimes he still forgot to use past tense. "I probably heard him tell it a million times."
"Well, I haven't heard it." She gave him a gentle smile. "Tell me."
"It was right after he first opened the store. He didn't have a lot of procedures in place yet. And one afternoon, this contractor called, and just started rattling off what he needed."
Lorelai looked over at the wall. "Let me guess: Three hammers, Phillips-head screwdrivers –"
Luke finished the list. "…three boxes of nails in assorted sizes."
They smiled at each other. "Dad didn't want to stop the guy. He didn't want to admit how unprepared he was. He just grabbed one of the carpenter pencils on the counter and started writing on the wall. He was so rattled he didn't even think to write it down on a paper sack or a receipt, or something like that. He just used what he had at hand."
"The wall."
"Exactly." Luke chuckled. "He always said he left it here to remind himself to be prepared for anything."
Lorelai bumped her shoulder against his. "Great story."
Luke closed his eyes in gratitude. "Great dad."
"I won't argue with that."
"Thank you for saving this. I don't know what I would have done if…"
"I had a feeling it was special. And if it wasn't…" She shrugged. "Easy enough to cover up later."
"Thank you," he said again. "I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
"You are welcome." She struggled back up to her feet. "And now that I've had my bedtime story, I'm ready to head home."
"Go grab your things," he agreed. "Let's go."
He waited at the back door for her to put on her coat and find her purse. He held it open for her and then locked it. He was bone tired, too. He'd thought about coming back after taking her home to finish the clean-up, but he just didn't have it in him.
He was almost to his side of the truck when he realized Lorelai had stopped in her tracks. He looked back at her, confused. Then he realized she probably needed help stepping up into the cab.
"Sorry," he said, going back to her. He took her arm. "Here, let me get the door for you."
But she resisted his aid. "It's not that," she said, with a quaver in her voice.
He looked at her, then at the truck. He was too tired to think. "Then what is it?" he asked, not exactly patiently.
She pulled away from him and looked down at the gravel in the alley. "The last time –" She broke off and cleared her throat. "The last time I was in the truck, Will drove me home." She tried to take a breath, but it sounded more like a sob. "That night when we partied, because you'd finished classes. That was the last time –" She bowed her head and covered her face, her shoulders shaking.
"Aww, Lorelai. Lorelai." He put his arms around her and drew her to him. "I'm sorry."
"No, no, I'm sorry." She pulled away from him again, wiping her eyes. "I try so hard not to talk about him in front of you or Liz. You guys have enough to get through without me butting in with stuff."
"You can talk about Dad," he said, flabbergasted that she thought she couldn't.
"No. No I can't. And if I wasn't so damn tired, I could handle this." She gulped down her tears and turned her face away.
"Hey, it's all right." He tried again to reach her. He put his hand, tentatively, on her shoulder. "It's not going to hurt me, to hear you talk about Dad."
"No. It's going to hurt me," she said pitifully. Before he could react to that, she got herself together. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired. Can you just take me home, please?"
"Yeah, sure. Of course. Come on." Ignoring her protests, he put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the truck. He opened the door and helped her in. He could see some tears still glistening on her cheeks. Unsure what else to say, he shut the door and walked around to his side.
They were quiet for most of the ride.
"I shouldn't have let you do this tonight," Luke finally said, right before they got to the inn. "I shouldn't have let you work so hard. What was I thinking?"
"No, Luke, it's fine. I wanted to do it. I'm pleased I got to help."
"But it was too much. You worked all day. You'll work all day tomorrow. I should have been looking out for you."
"It's one night, Luke. It's fine. I'll recover. It's no big deal. At least I'll sleep tonight. I wasn't sure if I would."
He carefully maneuvered the truck down the narrow access road. "Why wouldn't you?"
She blew a breath out slowly, looking ahead at the potting shed coming into sight. "Because this will be the first night I've ever spent away from Rory."
"You're kidding."
"No. She's always been right there. Literally, by my side, ever since we moved here. I wasn't sure I could sleep without a little foot poking me in the back at 3 AM."
Luke put the truck into park. "Do you want to go get her?"
"No, don't be silly. She's sound asleep. Liz is sound asleep. Everyone is asleep, and fine, and happy. And I'll be fine, too." She smiled reassuringly at him. "I promise you, I am so worn out I might not even make it to the bed. I might just sleep on the floor tonight." She grinned a little wider. "Or whatever is left of the night. I know it's pretty late."
He worried his lips together. "Which is still my fault. I should have never let you –"
She laughed and briefly put her fingers across his mouth, stopping him. "Hey, if nothing else, this should give you an inkling of what it's been like for me all these months."
"What are you talking about?"
"Me, being all concerned about you. Watching you come home completely exhausted on the rare times I saw you at all. You've been absolutely working yourself into the ground. It hasn't been fun, seeing what you were doing to yourself."
"I'm fine," he said, waving off her protests.
"And so am I. In about a week, these hard days will be over and done with, I hope, but until then, I am available to help you all I can."
He shook his head again, used to being stubborn. "I don't want to ask you for too much."
She smiled at him again, one of the most beautiful smiles he'd ever seen. "I don't think that's possible, Luke."
Lorelai turned to the door, to swing it open, but then she turned back to him again.
Luke already had his arm resting along the back of the seat, and now he leaned towards her a little bit more, just to make sure he didn't miss whatever she was going to say next.
And then…he wasn't sure what happened, because he was positive he didn't move any further. At the same time, he was just as sure that Lorelai hadn't moved, either.
But one of them must have, or they both did, or there was a convenient earthquake that provided the momentum, because suddenly, they were together. Their arms circled around one another, pulling and tightening, making sure that the embrace was going to last. Their lips locked in a kiss that refused to end. Months of futile denial evaporated in that kiss. The truth of their feelings for one another were laid bare as their lips found a new home.
If Luke's seat belt wouldn't have been in the way, things would have surely escalated even more.
It was when he leaned back, trying to get a little more leeway from the belt, that Lorelai leaned away, too.
Immediately, he reached for her again.
"No, Luke. No!" she said, pushing him away.
"Hell, yes!" he insisted, reaching for her, having found the truth within that kiss.
"No!" she said again. She shook her head desperately. "Listen to me. One kiss we can explain away. We – we were curious. We've had an emotional night. It was just something that happened."
He gave a bare nod of his head, wanting her to get to the point quickly so he could kiss her again.
"But a second kiss…" She looked at him in despair. "A second kiss is a choice. A second kiss is a decision. A second kiss…and we hurt Rachel."
The shock of hearing her say Rachel's name made him rear back. And in the split second that took, she was gone. She bolted from the truck and ran to the potting shed.
He wanted to go after her. Every molecule of his body wanted to go after her. But he instinctively knew that wasn't the right solution for tonight.
Desolate, he drove home. He killed the engine and sat there for some long minutes, staring at the dark house, where Liz and Jess – and Rory too – were sound asleep. And after a while spent agonizing over what had and had not happened, and wondering what he should do next, surprisingly, it was his sister's voice he heard.
"Sometimes it's doing the crazy things that make you the happiest."
He started the truck up and backed out of the parking space. He couldn't believe he was taking advice from his sister. But yet, here he was, ready to go do the crazy thing that he knew was the first step to happiness.
Luke stopped at a pay phone at a Quik Mart a couple of blocks from Rachel's apartment, to give her some warning. The phone rang and rang on her end before she picked it up.
"Sorry," he said immediately. "I'm really sorry about calling at this time of night, but I need to talk to you."
"Luke?" she asked, confused and sleepy.
"Yes," he said, briefly wondering who else would be calling her in the middle of the night.
"What time is it?" He heard a rustle as she looked at a clock. "Are you kidding me? This can't wait till morning?"
"No. Sorry."
"All of the times I've tried to get you to talk, and now is when you want to do it?"
He closed his eyes and almost leaned his forehead against the phone, but then thought of all of the winos and junkies who probably used this booth and thought better of it. "Yes. Again, I'm sorry."
"Where are you?"
"At the 24-hour place over on Buckingham."
"You could have just used your key."
"No." He paused. "I couldn't."
She seemed to absorb that. "All right. OK. Come on over, then. I'll open the door."
"Thanks. And…sorry." He hung up, got back in the truck, and drove the remaining blocks to her place.
True to her word, she opened the door when he walked up to it. "I was watching out the window," she explained. She closed the door and motioned towards the small kitchen in her unit. "I put the kettle on for some tea."
"Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks." He sat down heavily on one of the stools at the counter.
She glanced at him. "You look like hell."
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "It's been a long day."
"Uh-huh. Looks like it." The kettle started to sing so she plopped tea bags into two mugs and filled them with the boiling water. She pushed his over to him before she took her own seat. "So, what's going on?"
This was the moment he'd been dreading. He clasped his hands together and stared down at the steeping tea before him. He didn't know how to start.
"Luke, obviously something happened or you wouldn't be here in the middle of the night. Just say it."
He nodded his head. Good advice. Now if he could just take it…
"I – I kissed…I kissed Lorelai tonight."
The news didn't seem to unnerve Rachel much. "I see. And then what happened?"
He shrugged. "I came here."
"No, I mean…how far did it go?"
He wondered how tired he was, because he couldn't quite get her words to make sense. "Far? Um, I guess about, what is it to here? Like twenty-five miles?"
She couldn't hold back a laugh of disbelief. "No, Luke. I mean, you kissed her, I'm sure she kissed you, and then how far did it go after that? What happened after the kiss?"
He shook his head, still confused. "That's it. She went into her house; I came here to tell you."
"Tell me what?" she prompted him.
This was the part he couldn't get past. He grasped the edge of the counter, trying to go through with it. "I don't…I really don't want to hurt you."
She sighed. "Oh, Luke, don't worry about that. That ship sailed a long time ago." She waited for him to say something else, and when he didn't, she got up and went to her desk. She pulled a manila mailer out of a drawer and brought it back over to the counter. She opened it, drew out a small packet of photographs, which she then proceeded to slap down in front of him, as if she was dealing out a hand of solitaire.
He stared at the pictures, not comprehending. "You took pictures of me? Why did you do that? And what the hell am I looking over at in every single one of them?"
He didn't understand. The pictures were obviously taken over a long period of time, as seasons and locations changed. Most seemed to be somewhere at the house. And in each, he was looking off to the side, with an expression on his face he couldn't quite name. Yearning, maybe? He didn't understand what these were supposed to signify at all. And then he landed on one taken outside. In the snow. When he was pretty sure he'd been staring at a snow angel. He began to fear that he got it after all.
"What's this about?" he continued to question, with his heart now slamming against his chest.
"Maybe it would help if you saw their counterparts." Rachel took out another packet of photos and laid them out neatly before him.
As he suspected, these were all of Lorelai. Lorelai, taken unaware, with the same look of painful longing on her face. Taken throughout a long period of time, in various locations. Some back when she still had her waist-length hair. Some as recently as the day of his father's funeral.
"Rachel," he started to say, numbly.
"I've known for a long time, Luke. I knew how you felt about her. And how she felt about you."
He shook his head. "Why didn't you…why didn't you say something?"
"Because…" She shook her head too, then took her seat again. "I wasn't sure what was going on. I thought maybe you just had a crush on her, which I totally understood. I mean, she's so pretty. And she's funny, and smart, and just such a blast to be around. I practically have a crush on her, too. Who wouldn't?"
"But I didn't…she didn't…"
"Yeah, I know. I know nothing happened. I kept watching. Waiting. Thinking each time that I took one of these pictures, that was it. You'd finally cave. But you didn't. Then I thought maybe you just needed the time to get her out of your system. Half the time you seemed so annoyed with her, I thought maybe you'd finally have enough and let it go. But that didn't work out, either. You just kept on…looking at her like that." She tapped the snow angel picture.
"Why did you take these?"
"Because I wanted proof. I wanted to see that I wasn't crazy, that there was something there, whether you were acting on it or not."
He groaned and lowered his head so far that his forehead was nearly touching the counter. "Rachel, I'm so sorry. I'm so ashamed that I put you through this. I feel like such a bastard. I should have tried to tell you."
"Yeah, you should have. But you're here now. What do you want to say to me right now, Luke?"
He tried to think, to come up with something truthful, but not hurtful. The late hour, his exhaustion, and the emotions running through him prevented him from thinking clearly.
Rachel waited patiently for a few moments, then sighed at his silence. "I've helped you enough. This next part is up to you. You need to say it, Luke."
Thoughtfulness was getting him nowhere, so he just opened his mouth and spoke. "I think we're done, Rachel. I always believed we'd be together forever, but I was wrong. I just don't feel the same way about you – about us – anymore. I'm sorry."
"Anything else?"
"And…I'm in love with Lorelai."
Her eyes opened wide. "Wow. I wasn't expecting to hear that just come flying out."
"I've spent a lot of months denying it. A lot of time pretending that nothing had changed. And I forced you along for the ride." He paused and finally thought to take a sip of tea, which had already cooled down considerably. "Can I ask you? Why did you even come back?"
She smiled wryly. "Which time?"
He nodded his understanding. "When you first come home last fall. After I finally called you."
"Well, you see, once I got what I wanted, which was away from here, I found out something. Even if you're where you want to be, and doing what you want to do, the world's a pretty cold place if there's not someone there with you – or if there's not at least somebody back home, missing you. When I left after college, that was all on me. I was the one who said we were through. And after a while, I wasn't so sure about that. I began to think that I'd been way too hasty in throwing away what we had. And I thought I owed it to both of us to see if I was right, or you were. When you finally said that we should try again, that's when I came home."
She took a mouthful of her tea and made a face. "I came back and soon discovered that not much had changed. Stars Hollow was still the same small town, with the same people, doing the same things. You still had no interest in going anywhere else, and you definitely didn't want to waste time talking to me about whatever you were feeling. Basically, we were right back at square one."
"So then why come back again this time?"
"I had obligations here. A job to finish up. A lease on this apartment. And after I got done being angry at you and licking my wounds, I thought it would be a good idea to end things better between us this time. To end them more decisively. That's why I wanted you to be the one to say it this time. I wanted you to be convinced it was over."
He looked down and nodded. "I'm convinced," he said quietly.
She nodded, a little sadly, and examined her mug. "So…what's your plan from here on out?"
"Well, I finish up the work on the store." He shrugged. "See if people will pay me to cook for them."
Rachel looked doubtful. "Really? Nothing about Lorelai in there?"
He shifted his position on the stool. "I'm not sure how she feels about me."
"Luke!" Rachel laughed at him. "For God's sake!" She pointed to the pictures. "Seriously?"
"But I've never seen that," he protested. "She's never shown me…" He faded off, thinking about how she'd faced her parents for him. How she'd stayed up all night painting for him. How she'd been the one to bring him a salad. "Or maybe I just didn't realize that she was showing me."
"Did you never notice how she acted around you?"
"What do you mean?"
"At the house. Practically every night after dinner. You never picked up on what she did?"
"Obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking you about it."
"Every night, Luke. We'd get done with dinner, done with cleaning up, and we'd all troop into the living room. And every night, Lorelai would sit down on the floor with the kids."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, she did that until she saw where you were going to sit. Then she'd sit as far away from you as she could. Or, if the only open space was beside you on the couch, she'd just stay on the floor, playing with the kids."
He shrugged. "She liked playing with the kids."
"She'd never take the seat by you at the dinner table."
"Because she'd sit by Rory, to help her with what was on her plate."
Rachel looked exasperated. "And, every night, there would come a time when the two of you would fall deep into conversation about something. Both of you would be totally engaged in sparring back and forth. And then, she'd pull back. Like she'd suddenly realize where things were going and she'd end it. She'd go check on the kids, or say it was time for them to go home, or something. But there was no way to ignore the spark between the two of you. She was definitely aware of it."
"But that's not what she…" Luke growled in frustration, only able to remember his first attempt at charming Lorelai. "I tried, damn it! I tried really hard to get her interested in me and she most definitely was not. In fact, she told me pretty emphatically to get lost."
Rachel's mouth had dropped open. "She did? When was this?"
"A long time ago now. Uh, it would have been during the summer before you first came back."
Rachel leaned back on her seat, taking it in. "Well, that explains a lot," she murmured. "However, I think it's safe to say that her opinion has certainly changed since then." She tapped at the photos again.
The way Lorelai had so willingly kissed him in the truck floated through his mind. "Maybe," he agreed, not as doubtfully this time.
"So, you'll go talk to her. You like talking to her," Rachel reminded him, almost playfully. "You'll talk, and figure it out. You'll tell her how you feel, and that will make it easier for her to admit how she feels about you."
"That makes sense," he admitted.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the tea neither of them wanted to drink.
"You seem pretty blasé about all of this," Luke noted, as the quiet spell lengthened. "Like, almost too calm."
Rachel pushed her mug from one hand to the other. "I wouldn't say blasé. I can't even find the words to describe how angry I was when I found out you'd signed up for more classes."
Luke winced. "Yeah, I know. And I know I should have come clean to you right then, but instead, I made excuses. I don't know why I didn't tell you straight out that I wanted to keep on taking classes and find a local restaurant to cook in. That I didn't want to go see the world – with or without you. I knew it then, but I just couldn't force the words out."
She looked at him clear-eyed. "It really was all over right then, wasn't it?"
"I think so, yeah. After that, we were just going through the motions."
"But instead, I stuck around, and then…the lunch counter plan hit."
"Which, of course, I knew you'd blow up about."
She nodded. "I felt so gutted. So stupid. Why was I trying so hard to hang on to something that was obviously over?"
"It wasn't just you. I was afraid to let go, too."
"Getting away from here really helped me see things more clearly. Once I was focused on something else, I could let our drama play out in the background. From a distance, it was easier to see the stuff that I could ignore up close. Like the fact that although we're good friends and care a great deal about each other, we're so wrong for each other in so many ways."
Luke thought that over. "You mean, because we want different things out of life? Because you want to circle the globe and I'm happy to stay right here?"
She shook her head while a slightly impish smile flitted over her mouth. "That's what I always feared, that we'd break up because I couldn't stay in one place. It never once occurred to me that the end would come because you'd find someone else."
Shame clobbered him. "Rachel –"
"Luke, I'm not being mean, just factual. You found someone who wants the same things you do. Add in the fact that she looks like this –" She tapped on one of the pictures. "And looks at you like this –" She touched Lorelai's face in another one of the photos. "Well, there's no other option, is there?"
"I still feel terrible."
She thoughtfully considered that. "Knowing you the way I do, I believe that. And I can admit that I feel a little vindicated hearing you say it. But I've had the time to deal with my hurt and regrets, and although I can't say I'm completely over it, I've definitely moved past it. I've reached the point where I can be philosophical about it, instead of coming back home to boil your bunny or something."
He smiled grimly at the reference to a movie they'd once seen together.
"You deserve happiness, Luke." She reached over and patted his hand. "And I do, too."
"You do," he agreed.
"We do," she corrected him.
He blew out a breath, then nodded.
"OK, then. I think we've said what we need to say."
"And that means I should probably go," Luke stated, getting off the stool.
"Yeah, you probably should," Rachel concurred.
He picked up his coat where he'd dropped it on a chair by the door. He slapped on his hat and pulled on the mitten/glove hybrid Lorelai had knitted for him last Christmas.
Rachel came up to him, holding out the mailer full of photographs. "Here, take this. Just in case she needs more convincing than I think she will."
He took them with a nod. "Thanks. And I'm…I'm still sorry about everything."
"You know, I don't think I am anymore. At least, not too much."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The first time I left, I left with regrets. The second time, I left angry and hurt. But this time, I think we got it right. I think we're good."
He laughed involuntarily at that, remembering the struggle he'd had with Lorelai earlier that night, trying to find a better word than good. "Yeah, I think we are too." He offered Rachel a hug and she reciprocated, putting her arms tightly around him. "Thanks for the years you put up with me. I know everyone always says they'll still be friends, but I hope –"
"We will," she assured him. She kissed his cheek. "This isn't goodbye forever. I'll see you in town, I'm sure. I'll need to check up on my girl crush, if nothing else."
He smiled at that, shaking his head. "Will it make you mad if I tell you to travel safe?"
"No," she said, but for the first time, her voice sounded teary, showing that some emotions were still bubbling under the surface about their end.
"Then travel safe. Take care of yourself."
She nodded and he stepped closer to the door.
"Take care of yourself, too, Luke. Don't work too hard. And take care of Lorelai."
"I will."
"Oh, and Rory, too." She opened the door for him. "I know how much you love that little girl."
"Yeah, I do. And I will."
Rachel leaned on the door as he went into the hallway. "Does Lorelai want more kids?"
He took a breath, relishing how wonderful it felt to just say it out loud, without having to dodge and deflect, or to hide any feelings away. "Yeah, she does."
"Then you will have everything you want, won't you?"
"I hope so." He smiled at her one last time, then turned to go down the hall. Behind him, he heard Rachel shut and lock the door.
In the truck, driving home, he was super cautious. He knew how impaired he was by sheer exhaustion. The last thing he wanted to do was to let his guard down for one second and drive off the road.
But except for the tiredness, he felt great. For the first time in so long, he felt like every path was clear to him. He knew exactly where he was headed.
He even knew what he should have said to Lorelai when he was trying so hard to find that substitute word for good. He should have admitted it right then. It's love. I'm in love with you.
With any luck, he'd get to say it to her soon.
The Welcome to Stars Hollow sign had never looked better. The street where he lived had never seemed so peaceful. The fact that his key worked in the lock, and he could open the door and enter his own home, seemed like a miracle.
Luke sat down at the kitchen table, utterly depleted. He blinked at the clock on the stove, but he couldn't focus on the numbers. He tried to figure out how he was going to get through the day on no sleep, but his brain refused to even start figuring that out for him.
He heard a noise, and Liz entered the kitchen in her robe. She flicked on the overhead light, then jumped when she registered him at the table. "Geez, Luke! Why are you sitting here in the dark?"
"No reason," he mumbled.
She started the coffee maker before she joined him at the table. "Man, you look like hell."
"So I've been told."
She looked at him closely, then looked towards the back door. "Wait. Are you just getting home? Don't tell me you spent all night working at the store!"
He shook his head. "I didn't."
"Then where have you been?"
"At Rachel's."
"Oh." Her eyes opened wider. "Oh! Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No, it's fine. It's not like that." He took a breath. "We broke up. It's over between us."
"What?" she shrieked, but then she slapped a hand over her mouth, not wanting to wake the rest of the house. "You're kidding!" She tried to drop her voice into a whisper. "Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry."
"No, it's OK."
"I have to say, I'm not surprised, you know? But yet, I am. What happened? Why now, all of a sudden?"
"It was just time," he hedged, suddenly aware that he needed to walk a delicate line with his sister.
"Was it Rachel's idea? Man, I bet it was, wasn't it? What'd she do, find herself some fancy European mountaineer on this last trip? I'm so disappointed in her! You just wait until the next time I see her. I'll tell her just what I think about her dropping you like this! How dare she think that she can just –"
Luke grabbed for one of her flailing hands. "No, Liz. Listen. It was me. This is all on me. I'm the one who wanted it to be over. I'm the one who wanted out."
She went still, staring at him. "You? Why would you want out?"
"It was just time to end it," he repeated. "It was time to move on."
She sat back in her seat, analyzing him in the most disturbing way. "Wait. You're not saying that you found someone else, are you?"
All he had to do was to shake his head. He tried to get the signal through to the muscles in his neck, to move his head back and forth, just to give one brief shake…but nothing happened. He couldn't do it. Maybe he was too tired. Or maybe he didn't want to lie anymore.
Liz continued to study him. He could practically see her rapid-fire brain dissecting everything he'd said.
"But that doesn't make any sense," she muttered. "You haven't been around anyone else." She chuckled. "In fact, the only other woman you're ever around is…" She gasped and her eyes went as wide as possible.
"Liz, don't."
"No!" She jumped off her chair and pointed at him. "You are not hijacking my best friend, do you hear me?"
"No, I'm not. I couldn't, even if I tried."
She sat back down. "But I'm right? It's Lorelai?"
He nodded confirmation. Wait – so now his neck was capable of movement?
"Wow. Does she know?"
"About which part?"
She looked at him curiously. "There's more than one part?"
"Yeah. I mean, there's the Rachel part, and no, she doesn't know about that. There's how I feel about her…and I think…" He paused long enough to blow out a breath. "She may have a better idea about that now than she did. Then there's however she feels about me…which only she knows. I don't have a clue."
Liz got up and poured herself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" she offered to him.
"No. At least, I don't think so."
"Help yourself, if you change your mind." She sat back down at the table. She sipped, looking speculatively at him from over the rim. "This might seem pretty far-fetched, but did you ever ask Lorelai out?"
"How did you –?" His sister's powers of intuition never failed to amaze him. "Yeah. A long time ago. She turned me down flat."
To his surprise, Liz started to chuckle. "So it was you. You're the right guy."
"I'm what?"
Liz shook her head. "Just something Lorelai said to me one time, and I've been trying to figure it out ever since. I think I just did."
"Figure out what?"
"Never mind, Big Bro. But it's good news for you."
"Great. I could use some good news." He rested his cheek on his hand. His eyes slid shut, no matter what instructions he gave them.
"You need to get some sleep."
"You know what? You're right." He struggled up to his feet. "I was going to try and go to the store, but forget it. I need to get some shut-eye before I can do anything else."
"Go for it. I'll try to keep the kids quiet."
"Oh yeah, that's right. How'd it go with Rory? Was she OK sleeping here last night?"
"No problem at all." She looked at him curiously. "Should I offer to keep her here tonight, too?"
"Why?"
"In case you want to go romance her mama."
That stopped him cold. "Promise me you won't say a word to Lorelai. We haven't talked at all. You've got to give me a chance to work this out with her first."
"So I should keep Rory here?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Please, Liz, just give me a break."
"I promise, as long as you don't completely monopolize her. I still need my pal."
"You'll still have your pal, I'm sure of that, no matter what happens."
"I don't know. It always gets weird when a new boyfriend gets added in. I know how it was when Oliver came into the picture. And now, my brother's with my best friend? Super weird, bro."
"I'm not with…anyone. There's no anything."
"Yet."
"Hopefully, yes, that changes. But right now, there's nothing."
"Really? Nothing happened at the painting party last night? What prompted you to go to Rachel, then?"
"I am not discussing this with you." He tried to move out of the room, but Liz caught his arm.
"Come on, Luke! Something happened between you two. What was it?"
"Nothing."
"Luke!"
"A kiss, all right? There was a kiss."
"You kissed her, or she kissed you?"
"Kinda…both."
"Well, all right then. That sounds promising."
"That's what I hope." He shook off her hold. "And now I'm going to bed, and when I wake up, I'm making meatloaf."
"You're what?"
"I know what I'm doing!" he warned her, as if she'd been arguing with him.
"OK, OK," she laughed, putting up her hands. "Sleep and meatloaf. Great combo."
"It is," he mumbled, stumbling down the hall. "Just doing what she told me."
He heard Jess and Rory waking up in the room next to his, already laughing and pulling out toys to play with. But as soon as he fell across his bed, he was dead to the rest of the world.
Author's Chat: I hope that all of you Sebastians out there, who have been telling Luke to just hurry up and "Kiss the Girl" are happy now. (Hee. Maybe that should have been the title for this chapter!) I think that everyone has now had their eyes opened and all of the old strings have been cut. Not much left to do, except to always remember to lead with the meatloaf. (The food, that is, not the person.)
Fun fact! My first job out of college was as a proofreader at a printing company, which mostly printed up color cards for the paint industry. Eskimos might have 50 words for snow, but painting executives have thousands of words for white. "Bisque White," "Porcelain Delight," "Icy Morn" – trust me, I proofed them all, even though they all looked identical to my eye. I'm sure I came across some Linen Sages and Meadowbrook Mornings back in the day, too.
One chapter and two epilogue-ish things left to go. I think you'll all be happy where we end up.