1 Chapter Three
So this is what being a bat felt like, Rory thought absently as her head off the edge of her bed and she attempted to plait her hair.
Her fingers felt clumsy as she botched it up once more, which was odd considering that her piano teachers had told her about what graceful hands she had.
"Hey sit up," Came a voice from her doorway.
Rory sat up- more out of shock than obeying.
Lorelai took a step into the room. "Want me to take a shot at that?" She gestured towards Rory's hair.
Her daughter shrugged indifferently, so Lorelai counted that as an invitation. She sat on the bed beside Rory and picked up her brush, and began to smooth Rory's hair with it.
"I wonder if my hair was this soft when I was your age," Lorelai mused. "I'd know but it was rather buried under stiff layers of hair spray."
"I know," Rory stated matter-of-factly, smoothing an invisible line in her silk pajamas. "Grandmamma told me."
"What else did they tell you?"
Rory shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Not much else. I never really asked them."
Lorelai stifled a wince, but continued to attempt to bond. "What about your life?"
Again Rory shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. I was first in my class back in England, and in New York. I'm planning on returning to England for college, though I'm undecided as to which one I'd like to attend."
"So England was a favorite, huh?"
"It was lovely," Rory agreed, although stiffly. "I spent most of the past five years or so there."
"Where else did you go?"
"I spent some summers in California…" Rory answered hesitantly. "At Dad's."
"Christopher!" Lorelai was very close to screeching by the time her ex-boyfriend deemed the phone worthy enough to answer.
"Lor?"
"So glad you remember me, mother of your child," She bit off. "Speaking of, why didn't you tell me you've been in contact with her all these years?"
"Hey now," Christopher began to defend himself the moment he say a crack in her longwinded rant. "This is what the first time we've talked since Rory was born? Besides she never talked to me about you, so how was I to know?"
Lorelai sat down, less angry but more confused. "H-how did you do it though? All my mail was returned to me after Rory was two because they didn't leave a forwarding address!"
"While they were still living in Hartford, right before I graduated, I sat down with Emily and Richard and had a long talk," Chris explained. "We agreed to keep in contact with each other, and notify each other of any address and phone number changes."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry Lorelai," he told her sincerely. "I assume that they were just terrified of you. That you really were just going to take Rory and run.
Lorelai sighed, "It's just that she's so…quiet and studious. She reminds me of my father. You know, just put her in a suit with a brandy sniffer in hand."
Christopher chuckled. "I'm sure we're buried in there somewhere."
"Well at least she's not like us at that age…"
Rory let out a sigh of relief as Tristan led her into the giant foyer of his house. "My goodness, it seems like forever since I could here myself echo."
He arched an eyebrow as he led her up to his bedroom. "You never struck me as the echoer type."
"I'm really not," She informed him. "I just abhor small houses. My grandparents rented this cottage in Scotland one summer, which Scotland is great, but the living in the cottage wasn't."
"Edinburgh?"
"Eigg, Isle of actually," Rory told him as she sat in the chaise on the left side of his room.
Tristan pulled his desk chair over to beside the chaise and sat in it. "Ah, by the Isle of Skye. Never been."
"Did you actually ask me over to talk about good vacation spots in Scotland?" She questioned teasingly.
"Silly girl," Tristan replied, "I invited you over to catch you up at school."
"Mmmm...kay," Rory said. "Let's see we just finished up the Romantics in English. Moved on to Boyle's Law in Chemistry, which, by the way, is when the volume goes up, pressure goes down and vise versa. What other classes do we have? Ah yes, geometry. We're on the Postulates explaining how to discern which triangles are congruent and why. For example there is angle-side-angle, but you cannot use angle-side-side. In History we have just passed the battle of Gettysburg and in creative structure we're finishing up our slab projects. The only other class I'm enrolled in presently is Computer Applications and we just finished data tables. By the bye, I learned how to do that in sixth grade." She took a breath. "So I'm assuming you invited me over here for less innocent reasons."
Tristan licked his lips, leaning over her slightly. "You surprise me Lorelai Gilmore, I would have taken you more for the Mary type."
"If I was the Mary type, Tristan DuGrey, I never would have taken you up on your offer to, uh, help me catch up on my classes," She pointed out before letting their lips meet.
For some odd reason, it almost felt like her fate was forever sealed in that moment.
So this is what being a bat felt like, Rory thought absently as her head off the edge of her bed and she attempted to plait her hair.
Her fingers felt clumsy as she botched it up once more, which was odd considering that her piano teachers had told her about what graceful hands she had.
"Hey sit up," Came a voice from her doorway.
Rory sat up- more out of shock than obeying.
Lorelai took a step into the room. "Want me to take a shot at that?" She gestured towards Rory's hair.
Her daughter shrugged indifferently, so Lorelai counted that as an invitation. She sat on the bed beside Rory and picked up her brush, and began to smooth Rory's hair with it.
"I wonder if my hair was this soft when I was your age," Lorelai mused. "I'd know but it was rather buried under stiff layers of hair spray."
"I know," Rory stated matter-of-factly, smoothing an invisible line in her silk pajamas. "Grandmamma told me."
"What else did they tell you?"
Rory shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Not much else. I never really asked them."
Lorelai stifled a wince, but continued to attempt to bond. "What about your life?"
Again Rory shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. I was first in my class back in England, and in New York. I'm planning on returning to England for college, though I'm undecided as to which one I'd like to attend."
"So England was a favorite, huh?"
"It was lovely," Rory agreed, although stiffly. "I spent most of the past five years or so there."
"Where else did you go?"
"I spent some summers in California…" Rory answered hesitantly. "At Dad's."
"Christopher!" Lorelai was very close to screeching by the time her ex-boyfriend deemed the phone worthy enough to answer.
"Lor?"
"So glad you remember me, mother of your child," She bit off. "Speaking of, why didn't you tell me you've been in contact with her all these years?"
"Hey now," Christopher began to defend himself the moment he say a crack in her longwinded rant. "This is what the first time we've talked since Rory was born? Besides she never talked to me about you, so how was I to know?"
Lorelai sat down, less angry but more confused. "H-how did you do it though? All my mail was returned to me after Rory was two because they didn't leave a forwarding address!"
"While they were still living in Hartford, right before I graduated, I sat down with Emily and Richard and had a long talk," Chris explained. "We agreed to keep in contact with each other, and notify each other of any address and phone number changes."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry Lorelai," he told her sincerely. "I assume that they were just terrified of you. That you really were just going to take Rory and run.
Lorelai sighed, "It's just that she's so…quiet and studious. She reminds me of my father. You know, just put her in a suit with a brandy sniffer in hand."
Christopher chuckled. "I'm sure we're buried in there somewhere."
"Well at least she's not like us at that age…"
Rory let out a sigh of relief as Tristan led her into the giant foyer of his house. "My goodness, it seems like forever since I could here myself echo."
He arched an eyebrow as he led her up to his bedroom. "You never struck me as the echoer type."
"I'm really not," She informed him. "I just abhor small houses. My grandparents rented this cottage in Scotland one summer, which Scotland is great, but the living in the cottage wasn't."
"Edinburgh?"
"Eigg, Isle of actually," Rory told him as she sat in the chaise on the left side of his room.
Tristan pulled his desk chair over to beside the chaise and sat in it. "Ah, by the Isle of Skye. Never been."
"Did you actually ask me over to talk about good vacation spots in Scotland?" She questioned teasingly.
"Silly girl," Tristan replied, "I invited you over to catch you up at school."
"Mmmm...kay," Rory said. "Let's see we just finished up the Romantics in English. Moved on to Boyle's Law in Chemistry, which, by the way, is when the volume goes up, pressure goes down and vise versa. What other classes do we have? Ah yes, geometry. We're on the Postulates explaining how to discern which triangles are congruent and why. For example there is angle-side-angle, but you cannot use angle-side-side. In History we have just passed the battle of Gettysburg and in creative structure we're finishing up our slab projects. The only other class I'm enrolled in presently is Computer Applications and we just finished data tables. By the bye, I learned how to do that in sixth grade." She took a breath. "So I'm assuming you invited me over here for less innocent reasons."
Tristan licked his lips, leaning over her slightly. "You surprise me Lorelai Gilmore, I would have taken you more for the Mary type."
"If I was the Mary type, Tristan DuGrey, I never would have taken you up on your offer to, uh, help me catch up on my classes," She pointed out before letting their lips meet.
For some odd reason, it almost felt like her fate was forever sealed in that moment.