This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily (http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=288788) and CircleSky.
A Few Verses Short of a Christmas Carol
CHAPTER 2: Does Dove Even Make Turtles?
A few weeks later - one day before the shortest day of the year - the sun had already begun its depressing habit of setting by 4 o'clock. Sighing audibly, Rory trudged into the brightly lit bookstore, followed closely by an unamused Lane.
"How is it," Lane posed, "that a town with less than two hundred people can somehow manage to support this many stores?"
"I have no idea!" Rory moaned. "Where did they all come from? I swear, it seems like whenever my mom or I need something, we have to go to Hartford to get it, and yet we are surrounded by all these stores. They're everywhere."
Nodding, Lane added thoughtfully, "You know, if we tiled the sidewalks, put in lots of fluorescent lights, and turned the center of town into a food court, we could give the Mall of America a serious run for its money."
"Do not let Taylor hear you say that!" Rory warned jokingly.
"You're right. My lips are sealed," Lane promised, running her fingers across her mouth in a zipping motion.
Remembering their mission, they both sighed and glanced around the store.
"I'm tired," Rory complained.
"My feet hurt," chimed Lane.
"I'm cranky."
"You're cranky?" Lane scoffed.
"Yes, Secret Santa sucks."
"You love Secret Santa," Lane reminded Rory.
"I loved Secret Santa. Past tense. I no longer love Secret Santa."
"Chin up, Ebenezer! You'll find something for Shannon. Don't worry."
"I am not going to find anything for Shannon," Rory said resignedly. "I'm not going to find anything because there's nothing to be found. The boy is an enigma. How can I be expected to shop for an enigma?"
"He's far from an enigma," Lane assured her. "He probably couldn't even define enigma, much less be one."
"We've been shopping all day, and I'm still empty-handed," Rory complained. "Why'd I have to get stuck being Secret Santa for a complete stranger?"
"Because this isn't 'Beverly Hills, 90210' where everything is always conveniently kept within the bounds of our small, exclusive group of friends?" Lane offered.
"You aren't helping."
"Sorry, sorry. What can I do? I'm here to help."
"Okay," Rory answered, pausing in contemplation. "Well, we're in a bookstore."
"Yes, we are. Very observant."
"So, what kinds of books does Shannon read?"
"Shannon?" Lane repeated.
"Yes, Shannon. My Giftee. We've been over this."
"I know, but... I've never actually seen Shannon read," Lane confessed.
"Never?" Rory asked incredulously.
"Not even school books."
"Great. Great!" Rory exclaimed. "That's it! I give up! I knew I shouldn't have procrastinated, but I did anyway. Now it's the first day of gift giving, and I have nothing. Where's the nearest gumball machine?"
Lane smiled. "I don't think it's time for the gumballs yet. Besides, Shannon has braces. His orthodontist would probably hunt you down if you gave him gum."
"Of course," Rory mumbled, folding her arms over her chest.
They stood in silence for a while, gazing around the bookstore. Rory was growing more and more despondent when suddenly Lane said excitedly, "Okay, I have a plan!"
"Shoot!" Rory urged her, turning to her best friend and praying the idea was brilliant.
"Ok, you go look at the magazines," Lane suggested, pointing her outstretched index fingers towards the right end of the store. "Who knows, maybe something will jump out at you. I'll go back to the music store and see if we overlooked anything there."
Rory sent Lane a disappointed look. "Some best friend you are! You just want to go stare longingly at your drums some more."
"That's not true," Lane contended while backing quickly towards the door. "I'm helping. You will either have a gift for Shannon Hicks before this day is done or I will allow my mother to send me to a religious Korean boarding school."
Rory shifted in annoyance. "I'm holding you to that, you know."
"Believe me, I know. And, for the record, you're right, you are cranky!" Lane teased before smiling and darting out the door.
Rory watched Lane go and then turned back to the store. She couldn't believe that she was in a bookstore, and she wasn't enjoying herself. "Bah humbug," she mumbled under her breath before taking Lane's advice and heading to the magazine section. Her eyes half-heartedly scanned the titles. Better Homes and Gardens. Somehow she doubted that Shannon Hicks was into home decorating or gardening. Martha Stewart Living... Motor Trend... Seventeen. Rory chuckled to herself. I don't think he wants to read about how hot Josh Hartnett is either. Spin... Cosmopolitan... People. This is ridiculous! Sighing for what very well could have been the hundredth time that day, Rory picked up a copy of Time and started paging through it.
After a few minutes of skimming, she returned the magazine to the rack and absentmindedly began wandering around the store. A display of discounted classic novels caught her eye. Momentarily ignoring the reason she was in the bookstore, Rory walked over and began shuffling through the books. She'd been wanting something new to read, and her mother would be very disappointed if she passed up a sale. Moving The Grapes of Wrath and Agnes Grey out of the way, Rory unearthed The Fountainhead. She couldn't help but smile as her thoughts immediately turned to Jess and his disdain for the book. She could just imagine the agonized groan that would have escaped his throat if he'd been the one to find this hidden treasure buried beneath the literary rubble. For a brief moment, she wished he didn't have a copy so she could give it to him for Christmas. Disappointed and amused at the same time, she returned the book to its place and continued looking through the piles.
About twenty minutes later, Rory began to feel guilty and forced herself away from the sale table. Not quite sure where to look next, she walked towards the register where the new bestsellers were stored and began to read their titles. She was lost in thought when a familiar voice uttering very atypical words drew her attention. She looked up and saw Kirk standing in front of the cash register, reading aloud from the back of a book.
"Unhappily married to a devoted, clumsy provincial doctor," he said deliberately as though carefully considering each word. "Emma revolts against the ordinariness of her life by pursuing voluptuous dreams of ecstasy and love. But her sensuous and sentimental desires lead her only to suffering corruption and downfall."
Madame Bovary, Rory thought, recognizing the description right away.
"Hmmm," Kirk contemplated. "I don't know. Let me see the other one again."
Perplexed, Rory turned her eyes to the display in front of her but kept her ears carefully tuned into what Kirk was saying.
"The tale of a naïve young prostitute in bawdy eighteenth-century London who slowly rises to respectability..." he began, then paused. "Wait, it says this book was banned. Was this book ever banned?" Kirk inquired in his characteristic monotone. "I don't know if Mother would approve of me buying banned books."
The young clerk shrugged, growing increasingly disinterested.
"Well, Mother doesn't have to know," Kirk rationalized. "You won't tell her, will you?"
"I don't even know your mother."
"She doesn't leave the house much," Kirk explained. "Where's that third one?"
The clerk impatiently handed him another paperback.
Kirk flipped to the back cover.
"Inspired by the long-standing affair between Frieda, Lawrence's German wife, and an Italian peasant who eventually became her third husband, Lady Chatterley's Lover is the story of Constance Chatterley, who, while trapped in an unhappy marriage to an aristocratic mine owner whose war wounds..."
"Hey," Lane interrupted cheerily, startling Rory so that she almost tossed the book she'd been holding into the air.
"Oh, hey," Rory answered, focusing her attention on her best friend.
"Whatcha doing?" Lane eyed her friend cautiously.
"Listening to Kirk," Rory said, gesturing towards the register.
"Kirk?"
"Yeah, I think he's buying something for his Giftee."
"You were completely rapt because Kirk is buying a present for his Giftee?" Lane asked, clearly confused.
"It's really weird," Rory explained.
"Of course, it's weird; it's Kirk. I need details."
"Ok, apparently, he wants to get his Giftee a book, and he's trying to decide between three choices."
"Yeah?"
"But these three choices are not the types of books you'd bring home to Tipper."
"Bad?"
"I'm amazed Taylor let those books get past the Stars Hollow Committee for the Eradication of Lewd Literature."
"Wow! Are they really CELL-worthy?"
"Actually, they're great books. Controversial but great. Not necessarily what you'd want to give to a Giftee, however."
"I see," Lane said, nodding in understanding.
"You're carrying bags," Rory pointed out, gesturing to Lane's hands.
"I am," Lane proudly declared. "I think I can safely say that I will not be moving to Korea anytime soon."
"You found something?" Rory asked, wide-eyed and excited.
"Somethings, to be exact. Plural something."
"What? What'd you find?" Rory prodded like a small child.
"Ok, well, on my way to the music store, I stopped into Doose's," Lane began. "I was wandering the aisles, thinking about you and praying for something to save me from becoming a Korean Madeline. Unfortunately, I wasn't having much luck. But then I turned a corner, and there it was." With a dramatic pause, Lane reached into her bag and pulled out the first gift. "Ta-da: the classic LifeSavers Sweet Storybook."
"Oh!" Rory said happily, taking the box from Lane's hand. "I always loved getting these when I was little."
"Exactly!" Lane agreed. "It's simple. A nice way to ease your Giftee into the whole gift-receiving process. It's cheap. Everyone loves candy, and it will remind him of the bittersweet, simpler days of his youth when all he worried about was whether he'd get a lime or a cherry next."
"I've grown to appreciate the lime now that I'm older," Rory noted.
"Yeah? I've always been a Butter Rum girl myself."
"Thank you, Lane," Rory said with a smile. "It's perfect. Next, please."
"Right. So I left Doose's and continued to the music store, and that's when I walked by the video store. All this time, we've been wondering what movies he likes, but it occurred to me that we were trying too hard." Reaching into the bag again, Lane pulled out a gift certificate for 5 free video rentals.
"And they say two heads are better than one! I was definitely holding you back," Rory declared.
"Nah, we just needed some time to re-evaluate our options," Lane comforted her friend.
"What else did you find?"
"Well, the third gift was much harder. I left the video store and kept heading towards the music store, and I was looking in every store window I passed. I glanced into the toy store, and I saw two parents actually wrestling on the ground over a toy. It was disgraceful," Lane said, shaking her head. "That's when I realized that people are just too greedy nowadays. No one gives back, you know? So I went into the toy store and bought a toy, which I promptly put in the big "Toys for Tots" bin that Taylor keeps by Doose's. So Shannon's third gift is a donation to Toys for Tots. If he can't appreciate that, then he didn't deserve a third gift anyway."
"That was a great idea, Lane! Very philanthropic."
"I thought so," Lane agreed. "So, after helping Shannon help others, I finally made it to the music store, and I'll have you know that I did not even go near the drums. I browsed the CDs, desperately searching for something for Shannon. And that's when I saw it."
"It?"
"This!" Lane said, holding up a CD.
"Radiohead?"
"Yes, Radiohead. But not just any Radiohead album. This was recorded live. It's a collector's item. I remembered overhearing Shannon in class one day, arguing with one of his friends about whether or not Radiohead is any good live. Shannon was claiming that they suck live, which is completely blasphemous. I tell you, it was hard to restrain myself from getting personally involved."
"I'm proud of you."
"Thank you," Lane answered. "So, anyway, when I saw this live album, I knew it was the gift for him. You'll be doing the public a service, Rory. That boy must be educated."
"Then educate him, I will," Rory said, grinning.
"So there you go," Lane stated proudly. "I know I only found four gifts, but can I stay in the country?"
"It seems Korean boarding school will have to wait," Rory agreed with a wink. "At least until the next time you need threatening."
"Thank you!" Lane cheered, stretching out her arms and raising them upwards.
Suddenly, Rory's grin turned into a frown. "Oh man!"
"What?" Lane asked, concerned.
"Now I feel guilty."
"Guilty?"
"Yes. I'm a horrible Secret Santa. You picked out all of these gifts. I did nothing. I put no thought into the gift-buying whatsoever."
"This isn't 'Gift of the Magi,' Rory. I don't think Shannon will be offended that personal sacrifice wasn't involved."
"I can keep my hair?" Rory asked, smiling again.
"Your beautiful brown cascade can remain," Lane assented. "Besides, this means that, despite my mother's adamant refusal, I have officially participated in the Stars Hollow Secret Santa festivities."
"That you have," Rory agreed. "Rebellion is really starting to suit you."
"I'm starting to look like Gloria Steinem?"
"I definitely see a resemblance. Hey," Rory continued, changing the subject. "I see another bag."
"Oh this?" Lane said, eyeing the bag she held in her hand before nonchalantly moving it behind her back. "It's nothing."
"Nothing? It's a rather large bag for nothing, and it looks kind of heavy," Rory noted.
"Did you see that bootleg copy of the Bangles in the music store earlier?" Lane asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation. "I bet your mom would love it."
"Na-uh, Lane Kim. Spill."
Sighing, Lane handed Rory the bag and watched as she peered inside. Glancing up at Lane with a small smile, Rory pulled a large book from the brown paper bag. "The Beatles Anthology, huh? Don't you already have a copy of this?"
"It isn't for me," Lane said simply.
"No?" Rory asked, feigning innocence. "Well, then, whomever could it be for?"
"Fake naiveté masking subtle sarcasm. Your resemblance to your mother is really becoming uncanny, you know that?"
"She taught me well," Rory agreed. "Let's see," she continued, pondering for a second. "After the casual mention of the suspect item and the innocent questioning, comes the relentless guessing game."
"Oh no," Lane groaned.
"Is it for your mother?" Rory fired.
"My mother?" Lane repeated in amazement.
"Right. Your mother seems more like an Elvis fan," Rory said, concealing her laughter. "How about…"
"This is frightening. Did you just channel Lorelai into your body? I didn't see a séance, but I was briefly distracted."
Ignoring Lane's comment, Rory continued. "You keep mentioning my mother. Trickery perhaps? Is it for my mother?"
"It's not for your mother," Lane said calmly.
"Taylor?"
"No."
"Luke?"
"Nope."
"Miss Patty?"
Lane shook her head.
"Well, that leaves… me. Aw, Lane, you shouldn't have."
"Rory, stop," Lane pleaded.
Growing serious, Rory looked at her friend closely. "Is it for Dave?"
"Yes, yes! It is for Dave! Geez!" Lane said a little too loudly, causing some of the bookstore customers to glance at them.
Rory lowered her voice. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"
"I thought verbal torture seemed like more fun?"
"Lane?" she said softly.
"Because I'll probably just return it anyway."
"Why would you return it?"
"Because he probably doesn't even like the Beatles. I've been looking all week for a gift for him. I've bought and returned no less than 10 items. I finally find something, and I think it's perfect," Lane rambled quickly. "Then I bring it home, and it's either too much or too little – too silly or too serious – too boring – too expensive – too romantic – not romantic enough. And then I think, 'Why are you thinking about romance, Lane? You don't even know if he likes you!' Then, I begin to doubt that I should even be buying him a Christmas present. But I really want to buy him a Christmas present," Lane ended.
"He likes you," Rory said simply and with complete sincerity.
"You think so?" Lane asked, a look of excited expectation flashing across her face.
"I know so."
"And that?" Lane asked, pointing towards the book still in Rory's hands.
"This," Rory said, bending her elbow to hold the book up a little, "is perfect. He'll love it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"It's not too expensive?"
"Lane, if you return this book, I will be forced to lock you in a room with a Celine Dion CD as your only companion."
"I'm keeping the book," Lane stated, grabbing it from Rory's hands and returning it to the bag. "Thanks, Rory," she said quietly, looking up at her friend.
"You're welcome."
"I won't even make you pay me for the LifeSavers Sweet Storybook."
"Oh, no! I didn't choose the gifts, but I'm going to pay for them!" Rory pledged.
"See, your morals are still intact. Where to now? Any ideas for the last gift?"
Rory glanced at her watch. "Actually, I'm supposed to be meeting my mom at Luke's for some mid-Christmas shopping replenishment."
"Sounds good," Lane remarked. "Let's go."
As they moved to the door, Rory glanced at the register.
"He's still there!" she proclaimed.
Lane glanced over at Kirk. "Wow! He must really want to get the right book."
They both paused so they could hear what he was reading.
"… tells the story of the aging Humbert Humbert's obsessive, devouring, and doomed passion for the nymphet Dolores Haze."
"Is that Lolita?" Lane whispered.
"Yup," Rory replied.
Kirk handed the book back to the now-exasperated clerk. "No, these aren't sexy enough," he said calmly. "Do you have anything sexier?"
"Did he just say what I think he said?" Lane asked, wide-eyed.
"Oh, my God!" Rory answered, giggling.
"Your mom is gonna die when we tell her about this!"
"Poor Kirk," Rory murmured in sympathy as they hurried out the door for Luke's before they forgot a single detail.
***
Rory and Lane walked into Luke's and immediately saw Lorelai sitting at the counter, a giant cup of steaming coffee in front of her. They quickly joined her, Rory sitting to her left and Lane sitting to Rory's other side. Rory turned to her mother and was just opening her mouth to say something when she noticed the big, mischievous grin on Lorelai's face. Turning her head to follow her mother's intent gaze, Rory's eye fell on Jess.
He was standing with his back to her, very apparently struggling with the toaster. Rory immediately sensed his frustration and knew that the fight had been going on for some time. As she watched, Jess glanced back at them and realized his audience had grown. He jerked the screwdriver one more time and then nodded his head in satisfaction.
Picking up two pieces of bread, he shoved them into the toaster and pushed the lever that would lower them to be heated. He released the lever, and the two pieces of bread immediately shot back up out of the toaster and into the air. Jess stretched out his arm and snagged the bread before it hit the floor.
"And there they are again," Lorelai chimed, smiling wickedly. Turning to her daughter and Lane, she said knowingly, "Jess is training to be the next David Blaine. He just perfected an amazing new trick: Boomerang Toast. Given how many times he's demonstrated this fantastical feat, I suspect he's very proud of it. I, however, will not be impressed until the toast actually propels itself through the air and hits someone in the forehead." Turning back to Jess, she encouraged sweetly, "Keep working on it, Jess. I just know you'll get it down soon."
Rory shot her mom an amused look and then glanced at Jess. He threw the screwdriver down on the counter and sighed. She could've sworn she saw his cheeks turn a light shade of red, but he skillfully suppressed any embarrassment and turned to face them.
"Coffee?" he asked nonchalantly, ignoring Lorelai and looking to Rory and Lane.
"Yes, please," Rory answered, giving him a sympathetic smile.
"Can I get a Coke?" Lane asked.
"Jess. Oh, Jess!" Lorelai sang in her best Southern accent. "Would it be too much to ask for some toast?"
He rolled his eyes and turned to get the drinks.
As Jess set the Coke in front of Lane and began to pour Rory a generous cup of coffee, Luke walked in, carrying the mail. "Package for you, Jess."
Jess raised an eyebrow and set the coffeepot down. Wordlessly, he accepted the small package, scarcely bigger than his palm.
"Your Secret Santa?" Lorelai asked.
"Must be," Jess said tersely. There were no identifying marks on the box, save Jess's name. Jess popped the lid off the box and removed some tissue paper.
"What the hell?" he wondered aloud. He reached his hand into the box and looped the gift over his index finger. When he lifted his hand, he revealed a pair of handcuffs, dangling in the air above the box.
Rory and Lorelai giggled when they caught sight of the present. Jess dropped the box on the counter and continued staring, perplexed, at the unusual gift.
"Hey, there's a note in the box," Rory stated. She removed the piece of paper and read it aloud. "Get used to the feel of these."
"Ooh, Jess!" Lorelai cooed. "Kinky! Looks like you've got a secret admirer!"
"Oh my God!" Lane choked on her Coke while everyone else, except for Jess, burst out laughing. Jess, on the other hand, stood staring at the gift, still confused and just a little bit embarrassed.
Miss Patty sidled up to the counter just then. "Can I get some coffee, Pet? Nice present," she appraised languidly, her gaze trailing up and down Jess's body and making him even more uncomfortable. Jess palmed the handcuffs in his hand and attempted to hide them from sight. "Oh, don't look so bashful, Sugar," Miss Patty went on. "I always wanted Santa to bring me one of those. Oh well," she sighed. Then, as Jess was pouring her coffee, she leaned in closer and drawled in a quiet, naughty tone, "If you need someone to help you with yours, I'm available."
***
"OK. That was just too weird," Lorelai stated as she and Rory walked up their walkway.
"What's so weird about it? Accidents happen."
"Yeah, but did you see the look on her face when it happened?"
"She was very apologetic."
"Apologetic, yes. But her eyes said, 'Ha ha! I've got you now, My Pretty!'"
"Mom, Miss Patty did not spill her coffee on you on purpose." Rory rolled her eyes as the two stepped into their front hallway.
"I'm not so sure."
"You live in your world; I'll live in mine." Rory shrugged and hung up their coats as her mother began stripping herself of her coffee-stained blouse. "Upstairs, please," Rory ordered distastefully.
Lorelai rambled on, heading up the stairs. "'Oh dear,' Patty says. 'Now you'll have to go home and change,' she says."
"Did I mention my world is based on reality?" Rory elaborated.
Lorelai paused at the first landing, seemingly not having heard Rory at all. "And what was with that whole 'You should wear your black dress with the slit on the side' thing? Since when do I get fashion pointers from Miss Patty?"
"Well, she does have a point; that dress looks phenomenal on you."
Lorelai momentarily set aside her paranoia. "Yeah, you know. It does. It's classy but not over the top. A little bit 'Hot mama' and a little bit 'What? This old thing?' Love that dress."
"You should wear it."
"You know, I should," Lorelai agreed. "Just to spite her."
Rory chuckled and settled herself on the couch where she had started wrapping presents earlier. Now, thanks to Lane, she had gifts to wrap for Shannon. She was holding slippery paper under two fingers and awkwardly tearing off a strip of scotch tape when her mother came back downstairs. "Hey, you put on the dress," Rory stated, glancing up at Lorelai.
"Yeah. Well, getting coffee dumped on me sucked, and nothing can cheer up a girl like a sexy outfit!"
"Hear, hear! Mom, I think this paper is winning," she added as the wrapping paper she'd carefully folded sprung from her fingers just as she was about to adhere tape to it. Lorelai came over to help, and the two soon made light work of the wrapping.
"You sure have a lot of presents here, Missy," Lorelai commented as they finished up the chore.
"Some of these are for my Giftee."
"Anything here for me?" Lorelai asked as she eyed the presents that Rory had already wrapped before she'd come downstairs.
"I'm not crazy. Your presents are already hidden."
The doorbell rang. As Lorelai stood to answer it, she added, "Yeah, cause you know how much fun I have tearing the house apart looking for them! You're so thoughtful!"
Lorelai opened the door to the sight of a man holding a bouquet of flowers. "Lorelai Gilmore?"
"Oh! Yes, that's me."
"Hi. Oh! These are for you." The man held the flowers out for her. By this time, Rory had followed her mother into the hall.
"Damn, you gotta love Secret Santas," Lorelai murmured, accepting the flowers gratefully. "These are gorgeous. Who are they from, do you know?" Rory, in turn, took the bouquet off her mother's hands and deeply inhaled the fresh scent.
"From me," the man stated.
"Um, yes, but who ordered them?" Rory and Lorelai exchanged an amused look. This guy was so literal; Rory had to wonder if he'd been taking lessons from Kirk.
"I did."
"You?" Lorelai asked again, still not quite understanding.
"Yes."
"Um. Maybe I'm forgetting something. Um… Who are you?"
"Brad. Your date."
"My…?" Lorelai gaped at him. The Gilmores then noticed how well dressed the man was. This was no ordinary delivery boy; and, in her hot little number of a dress, Lorelai's looks complemented his nicely.
And that was the moment when Rory realized that Miss Patty LaCosta was her mother's Secret Santa. She'd been wrong, the coffee spillage hadn't been an accident. The smirk grew on her lips. Another look at Lorelai's eyes revealed Lorelai knew it as well. "Oh God," Lorelai muttered under her breath, as she slowly, draggingly, grabbed her coat and purse.
"Don't stay out too late, you crazy love birds," Rory teased as Brad led her mother down the walkway. Lorelai was frantically making phone gestures with her hand and mouthing "Save me."
"Don't worry. I'll put these flowers in water," Rory offered cheekily. Shaking her head, she shut the door and burst out laughing.
After cleaning up the bits of scrap paper from the coffee table and surrounding floor, Rory went into her room and turned on the light. Glancing up, she was surprised to see a parcel propped up against her window, wrapped in pretty partridge and pear foil and addressed to her. She smiled. Finally, her own Secret Santa had struck.
Rory slid the window up and plucked the small package off the sill. Once the gift was safely in her room, she closed the window quickly to avoid letting in too much of the frigid December air; however, not before she surreptitiously scanned the yard for the deliverer of her package.
Not seeing anyone, she turned away from the window and tore into the wrapping. She had been able to tell from the weight and shape of the package that it was a book, but her excitement dwindled as two words met her eyes: Ernest Hemingway. Shoulders drooping, she sighed. Well, she decided. At least my Secret Santa tried. Whoever it is knows that I like to read, but obviously they don't know that I think Hemingway is as dry as dust.
She stood from the bed where she'd sat down to open the gift and walked over to file the book on her shelf. However, just as she was about to slide it in between two other "reject" books, her eyes fell on the title: The Garden of Eden. She paused. The title was unfamiliar. Granted, her dislike for Hemingway wasn't exactly conducive to being familiar with his writings. She did know his major works - A Farewell to Arms, The Old Man and the Sea, For Whom the Bell Tolls - but definitely not The Garden of Eden. Curious, she flipped the book over and silently read the back.
"A sensational bestseller when it appeared in 1986, The Garden of Eden is the last uncompleted novel of Ernest Hemingway, which he worked on intermittently from 1946 until his death in 1961. Set on the Côte d'Azur in the 1920s, it is the story of a young American writer, David Bourne, his glamorous wife, Catherine, and the dangerous, erotic game they play when they fall in love with the same woman."
Fall in love with the same woman? Rory, her eyes bugging out, flipped the book to the front cover and read the name of the author over and over again. It definitely said Ernest Hemingway, but the book sure didn't sound like a Hemingway novel. Still standing in front of her bookcase, Rory opened the book to the first page and began reading.
"They were living at le Grau du Roi then, and the hotel was on a canal that ran from the walled city of Aigues Mortes straight down to the sea. They could see the towers of Aigues Mortes across the low plain of the Camargue, and they rode there on their bicycles at some time of nearly every day along the white road that bordered the canal. In the evenings and the mornings, when there was a rising tide, sea bass would come into it – "
Rory smirked and rolled her eyes. Nope, this is definitely Hemingway. Growing bored, she skipped ahead a few pages and stopped on page 17. Her eyes fell halfway down the page, and she started half-heartedly reading the middle of a paragraph.
"'Please love me, David, the way I am. Please understand and love me.' He had shut his eyes, and he could feel the long, light weight of her on him, and her breasts pressing against him, and her lips on his."
Rory felt her cheeks growing red, but she kept reading. "He lay there and felt something and then her hand holding him and searching lower, and he helped with his hands and then lay back in the dark and did not think at all and only felt the weight and the strangeness inside, and she said, 'Now you can't tell who is who, can you?"
Rory stopped reading and glanced around as though she'd been caught doing something illegal. Of course, there was no one. She began to wonder in earnest who her Secret Santa could be. This book was definitely an unusual Secret Santa gift. It was too – too – racy. Gasping, Rory's thoughts jumped back to the bookstore. My Secret Santa couldn't be Kirk, could it? She pondered the possibility for a second and then disregarded it. This was just a coincidence. Her Secret Santa probably saw 'Hemingway,' thought 'classic,' and bought it for her without any ulterior motives. In the process, they'd managed to find the most un-Hemingway Hemingway possible. She was almost impressed.
Forgetting about her Santa, she looked back down at the book. She hesitated briefly, and then, moving to sit on her bed with her back resting comfortably against her pillow, she turned back to page one and began to read.
***
Please review!
This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily (http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=288788) and CircleSky.