Simple Stuff for the Simple Folk
By Steph (awriter78@hotmail.com)
Rating--PG
Disclaimer-- I don't own any of the characters.
Summary--A follow-up to "It All Started With A Math Test." Takes place about a year and a half after that one. Please R/R.
A/N--I heard from 2 people that they were having trouble reading the last part of the story. I don't know if it's something that I did, but I'll resubmit it and try again. I hope it works. Thanks.
"Maybe we should get married," Luke said. They were standing by Rachel's car. She had come back to Stars Hollow for a break from college. Even though they had broken up after graduation, she still visited him when she came home from breaks. Still slept with him.
Rachel sighed sadly. "We can't get married," she said. She was only nineteen, still in school. She didn't want to come back home without doing everything that she wanted to do. Seeing everything she wanted to see.
"Okay," he said nodding quickly. "It was just a suggestion."
"Luke," she said kindly, "I love you and I always will. But we can't get married."
"You're right," he said.
"We're too young. We don't want to end up like Liz and Nick," she pointed out.
"You're right," he repeated.
She kissed him softly on the cheek. "I'll miss you."
"Uh huh," he said.
"I'll talk to you later," she said. She got into the car.
He watched her drive off. He headed back to check on his father. He tapped the back of his baseball cap. It looked like it would stay backwards for now.
The next time he saw Liz, the first time since she defected to New York, was three months later when she came back for their father's funeral. He picked her and the baby up from the bus station. Nick wasn't with them.
"He was busy," Liz said in a voice that told him not to ask any more questions. She seemed different, exhausted and short-tempered. The baby, a frowner with solemn dark eyes, seemed short tempered as well.
After a few minutes of driving in silence, Luke said, "The kid's cute." The kid wasn't really that cute, because cute usually implied a good-tempered and happy baby, but he thought it might get her talking.
"The kid," Liz said coolly, "looks like Nick." At that, she turned to face the window. Luke turned up the radio and drove towards the house.
After the funeral while people were at the house drinking and eating and reminiscing, Luke decided to get some air. His antisocial, misanthropic side was rearing its ugly head and he felt the need to be alone. He walked over to the hardware store and went up to the office upstairs. He sat in his father's chair and closed his eyes. He had no idea what he was going to do now. Should he keep the hardware store open?
Should he sell it to someone? Someone awful like Taylor Doose? Should he sell the house? Where would he live?
"Hey," he heard someone say. He opened his eyes to see Liz. "Can I interrupt your deep thoughts?"
"Sure," he said.
"I brought you something," she said. She handed him a beer. He opened it gratefully. "Thanks."
"I thought you'd be here," she said. "You always liked it up here."
"Yeah," he said. "Where's the kid?"
"He's with the aunts." She opened up a beer for herself. "The kid hates me."
"He does not," Luke said automatically.
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe not. It's weird being a mother."
"Really?" he asked.
"It's hard to describe. Not bad, just weird."
"Are you and Nick okay?" he asked even though he knew they weren't. Even though he knew he wasn't supposed to ask.
"I don't know. We have good periods and bad ones. We're in the middle of a particularly bad one."
That gave him an idea. "You and the kid can move back here. You can get a job. I'll help you."
She sighed. "Thanks, but we'll be okay. Besides I couldn't come back here."
"I think," he said slowly, "that Dad would have wanted us to watch out for each other."
She shook her head. "I think Dad would have wanted you to grow some balls and do something."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"If you're going to tell me about how you kept the store running and helped Dad, I know already and that isn't what I meant. I know that you were the dutiful son and I was the horrible daughter. Miss Patty and everyone already cornered me at the funeral to throw in their thoughts."
Well that wasn't surprising. He started to say something, but she interrupted.
"Luke," she said in a kinder tone of voice. "You're planning on selling the store, right?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
"Sell it," she said. "Sell it and leave town. It doesn't have to be forever. It could be a week in Hartford or something. See different places. Meet different people."
He frowned again. Where was this coming from? "Don't worry about me," he said.
"This is getting ridiculous," Liz said. She was on a roll. "You're too young to settle for working in the hardware store, just because it's what you know. You're too afraid of the unknown."
"No I'm not," he protested.
"Yes, you are. And you're not dating anyone, are you? You're just sitting around waiting and pining for Rachel, because she's what you know." At his surprised look, she smiled slightly. "Miss Patty filled me in."
Luke shook his head. On one hand, he was angry about Liz's accusations; on the other hand he realized with a sinking sensation that she was at least partly right.
"It doesn't really matter what Dad would have wanted anyway," Liz said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "He's dead. We're orphans."
"Yeah," he said. "I know."
"You should go out more," Liz said going back to her lecture. "What about that one girl you were talking to at the service?"
"What girl?" Luke asked, confused.
"The one with the black hair. She was all smiling and giggly when she saw you, Butch."
"I told you never to call me that," Luke growled. "And I think you mean Iris."
"Iris, huh? Why don't you wine and dine her?"
"Her name," Luke said "is Iris Gleason."
"So ask her…" Liz paused, beer halfway to her lips. "She's a Gleason? One of the Gleasons?"
"Yep."
"She looked so normal, but I was watching her from far away. You don't want to get mixed up in that family," Liz said. "Although maybe you should date her. You can be a big brother to poor Kirk."
Luke shuddered at the thought. "Stop."
Liz giggled. "You know, give him tips on how to dress, help him find a gal. Buy him a backwards baseball cap of his own."
"You're not funny," he said. "You know that, right?"
"I'm being serious now," she said. "Promise me you won't settle for something just because it is familiar."
He didn't know what to say. He and Liz had never been close as kids; they were too different in personalities. And yet, now she was teasing him, giving advice like any older sister might do for a younger brother. "I promise," he told her. It couldn't hurt to look at other possibilities.
She clinked her bottle with his. "What are we toasting?" he asked.
"The orphans," she said and took a drink.
Some people never change though. Liz and the kid took off the next day, back to New York, back to Nick, leaving Luke to deal with all the decisions regarding the store, the house. Leaving Luke to deal with everything.
"So You Want To Be A Chef." It was a cheesy, cheaply-made pamphlet for schmucks who were willing to go to school for years to learn how to make some frou-frou pansy-ass pastry. He wasn't one of those people. He didn't want to be a chef; he wanted to cook simple stuff for the simple folk, cliché as it sounded. But who would hire him without experience or education? It looked like he would be stuck at the hardware store after all.
He had an epiphany in the middle of the night and he woke up both panicked and euphoric. He turned on the light and began scribbling notes. He could sell the house and use that money to open a restaurant. Not even that fancy, a café or a diner. Maybe he could redo the hardware store into a diner. He would save some money that way. He could go to the library and read about restaurant management. He could teach himself. Couldn't he?
Luke was not so stubborn that he would not ask for help and the next day he put together his pages of notes and rough designs (even a rough composite of a menu) and drove over to the Independence Inn. Mia, the owner, had known his mother and had often told Luke (and Liz) that if they ever needed help with anything to come visit. He would ask advice, ask whether or not she thought he was crazy for even thinking the diner was a possibility. He would show her his plans and notes and listen to what she had to say about owning a business. He knew that there was a chance she would tell him not to do it, that it was too big a risk and that he should stick with the hardware store, stick with what he knew. He almost hoped she would say that.
He sat in the lobby of the inn waiting for Mia, who was in a meeting. He couldn't believe that he was actually there, actually waiting to tell her this plan of his, this idea. Was it a stupid idea? It was, wasn't it?
The more he thought about it, the more he second guessed himself, the sicker he felt. He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping lunch down.
He opened his eyes, when he felt something against his legs. A huge garbage can was in front of him with a tall, skinny girl in a maid's uniform behind it.
"Am I in your way?" he asked sarcastically.
She grinned. "No, you looked like you were about to puke and I decided to do some preventive measures so I wouldn't have to clean it up later."
"Oh," he said closing his eyes. He opened them, to see her still standing there. "I think I'll be okay," he said.
"Good," she said sitting down next to him. "It's been such a hectic week."
"Yeah?" he asked, not really interested. "Why's that?"
"There was a funeral a few days ago. And according to Mia, the guy was really popular so there were a ton of people staying here."
He took a deep breath. Who the hell was this girl? She started talking again. "I didn't know the guy, but I haven't been living here that long. Have you lived here a long time? Do you know who the guy was?"
"I've lived here my whole life," he said slowly. "And the really popular guy who died was my father."
"Oh God," she said immediately. Then she put her hand to her mouth. "I'm really sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. If we were in a sitcom right now, there would be a huge gasp from the studio audience. I apologize for being so ridiculously imbecilic. I had no idea. Do you hate me?"
"I don't even know you," he said feeling exhausted. "Is Mia out of her meeting yet?"
"No. I just walked by her office and the door was still closed."
"Oh," he said.
"How do you know Mia?" she asked.
"Family friend," he replied.
"What are those in your hand?" she asked. She frowned. "Pictures? Are you an artist?"
"No," he said. "They're designs for an idea I had. For a business."
"Yeah?" she asked interested. "Hey, what time is it?"
"Two," he said.
"I have twenty minutes left on my break. What kind of business?"
He paused, realizing that it might sound stupid saying it out loud. "A diner."
She nodded. "A diner, huh? Very interesting. What would it be called? Something cute?"
"I haven't really gotten that far in the plans. And I don't really do cute."
"Hmmm," she said, appearing deep in thought. "Diners are cool. I would go. And eat. Who would do the cooking?"
"I would," he said unapologetically. "I can cook."
"Good," she said. "What would be on the menu?"
He didn't know why he was getting into this with her, a complete stranger who more likely than not would start laughing at him, but figured that it might be good practice before he discussed it with Mia.
He handed her the menu he had created in his fit of creativity.
"Burgers, fries," she began reading off, "sandwiches, pancakes, eggs…" She looked up at him and pouted.
"What?" he asked. "Stupid?"
"Not at all," she said. "I'm just really hungry now."
He cracked a smile. "Don't get your hopes up too much. I might not even do it."
"I think you should," she said handing him back the menu. "People need to eat. Three meals a day. Plus snacks. And late afternoon pie. There's nothing like late afternoon pie," she said.
"I'll take your word for it," he said.
"There's nothing like pie, period. Have you ever made a pie?" she asked.
He had to think about that. "Can't say that I have."
"You need pie on the menu."
"Even if I don't know how to make it?" he asked. It wasn't too hard to get caught up in imagining the menu of the diner, even if said diner didn't and might not ever exist.
"Someone will show you how. Mia just hired a chef's apprentice. She works on weekends and goes to cooking school during the week. Her name's Sookie and she's my age. She's cool and makes great pie."
Luke tried to hide his smile. He wasn't too successful. "Mia hired Sookie St. James as a chef's apprentice?"
"Yeah," the girl said, sounding defensive. "What's funny about that?"
"Is Mia aware that Sookie St. James started a fire while she was cooking during a high school home ec class?"
The girl giggled. "Serious?"
"Yep. The town had some stupid festival to buy more equipment. Like this town needs an excuse to have another fundraising festival."
"I like the festivals," she said.
Mia walked over to them. "Lucas, sorry that I made you wait." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "How are you and Liz doing?"
"Okay, I guess," he said. "Liz went back to New York yesterday."
"She never did like it here," Mia said wisely. "So want to come into the office?"
He stood up. "Nice to meet you…" He realized that he didn't know this girl's name.
"Lorelai," she said. "Good meeting you too, Lucas."
"Luke," he said.
"Luke? Like Duke," she said. "Duke like Luke."
He looked at her confused. That was odd. "Hey, you wouldn't be a Gleason, would you?" he asked. That might explain things if she was.
"Nope," she said. "I'm a Gilmore."
He nodded and started to follow Mia when the strange girl called him. "What?" he asked.
"Good luck with the diner," she said. "I hope you go ahead with it."
He smiled. "Thanks," he said. He walked away and almost unconsciously touched his baseball cap. It looked like it would stay backwards. For now anyway.
The End…
A/N--Okay the whole how long have Luke and Lorelai known each other question comes up again. I personally find it hard to believe that they didn't know each other at all until she moved when Rory was 11. Especially with them both knowing Mia and Sookie (who knew plenty of details about Luke and Rachel's relationship). So in my head, I have them meeting like this, maybe saying hi to each other once in awhile, but not becoming super friendly until she moved. Just my interpretation.