Hi everyone! First, I want to thank you for your amazing reviews- the
amount of helpful detail you leave for me just blows me away (again, as
always!) You guys so completely ROCK!! Special thanks go out to everyone
who emailed and offered me encouragement (particularly Becka, Elizabeth,
and Julia.)
This is the part where I apologize profusely for taking so long to write and post this chapter of Being Right is Overrated. Life basically got in the way of writing fan fiction and I've been super duper busy. Plus, I had the blues about the way the Rory/Jess relationship has been handled on the show. As a writer, I really strive to keep my stories in character. I've been discouraged because I think the characters have been acting 'out of character' on the show. Let me share with you the conclusion I have drawn - we, the viewers, were gypped. So, this is my attempt to provide fan fic readers with the Season 3 we deserved. I hope you like it.
.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
.
"C'mon Mom!" Rory calls up the stairs as she paces in the Gilmore living room.
"I'm not ready," Lorelai's disembodied voice calls down the stairs. "Go on without me."
Sighing, Rory walks to the foot of the stairs.
"He is not going to make you eat salad for breakfast," Rory says exasperatedly as she tries to coax her mother out of her bedroom.
"Oh yeah," Lorelai counters as she comes into view, the heels of her boots clicking on the stairs. "I bet that's exactly what Amelia Earhart said."
Rory is silent for a moment as she regards her mother. "Is that supposed to make sense or are you just trying to confuse me?" she questions, tilting her head to one side.
"It made more sense in my head before I actually said it."
"That's a little frightening," Rory grins. "Let's go. I'm hungry."
"Wait. Give me one more crack at it. Say it again."
"Say what again?"
"The part about Luke making me eat green stuff at 8:00 in the morning."
Sighing, Rory reasons, "You're worrying about nothing, mom. Luke will not make you eat salad for breakfast."
"I bet that's what the Indians said when they saw the pilgrims landing at Plymouth Rock."
"That's not any better."
"Oh no," Lorelai groans, descending the stairs and standing in the living room. "My snappy comeback generator is on the fritz. For my own safety, I don't think I should leave the house today."
"Now you're just stalling," Rory grins as she walks to the coat rack.
"No," Lorelai declares, urgently. "Don't you see? I'm losing my touch. Just the thought of eating salad is making me crumble. I'm turning into a blithering shadow of my formerly sharp-witted self." Motioning frantically to Rory, Lorelai urges, "Say it again."
"Nope."
"I just need one more chance. . ." Lorelai begs.
Shrugging on her own coat, she grabs her mother's coat from the rack and hands it to her saying, "Sorry mom, the moment has passed. Let it go."
Lorelai sighs petulantly and takes the coat offered to her, "This is a sign of things to come. Mark my words." Absentmindedly putting on her coat she continues, "What did Nostradamus say about the end of the word? I think this could be one of the harbingers of doom."
"I don't think Nostradamus mentioned you specifically by name."
"He might have! We should stay home and research it."
Rory turns to face her mother and says, "I don't know for certain but I'm willing to bet that you making nonsensical comments is not the signal of impending global thermonuclear warfare or whatever it is that's going to end the world. If you woke up one morning and decided to plant a vegetable garden, donate all your shoes to the Salvation Army, and give up coffee, I'd be scared. Anything short of you voluntarily moving back in with grandma and grandpa and I think the world is safe."
"Oh God. . ." Lorelai gasps, a look of horror on her face, "that would be a whole order of magnitude worse."
"My point exactly."
"You think the world isn't doomed?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Rory muses as she slips behind Lorelai and begins nudging her towards the door. "However, if it is, I don't think it's your fault."
"Maybe I should stay home just in case."
"Salad is not breakfast food."
"What if Luke's I.O.U. involves me cleaning out the deep fryer?" Lorelai counters as she stumbles towards the front door.
"Then try not to burn yourself," Rory offers helpfully.
"What if-"
"Time's up," Rory interrupts as she opens the Gilmore front door and drags her mother outside. "I'm hungry and you very obviously need coffee. You're going to the diner."
"Just bring coffee home for me."
"That doesn't work anymore." Linking her arm with her mother's arm, Rory continues, "Luke knows when you're trying to avoid coming in the diner, which by the way, is all your fault."
"How is that my fault?"
"If you hadn't avoided the diner all last summer and tried to get anyone passing by to sneak you his coffee, Luke would never have developed a sixth sense for it. Now it's too late. His Lorelai-is-trying-to-sneak-coffee- out-of-my-diner radar is finely honed and fully operational."
"That is so unfair," Lorelai grumbles.
"That is so life."
As the women engage in debate, Rory is able to maneuver Lorelai in the direction of the diner. Before Lorelai is even aware that they've been walking, the pair reach Luke's diner. Lorelai disentangles herself from Rory's grasp and takes several steps backwards.
"It's such a nice day," she begins, "I think I'll just wait here on the park bench. You know, soak up some Vitamin D."
"It's 40 degrees," Rory protests.
"Practically tropical."
"You'll freeze to death."
"Which is why you should bring me coffee. It will help me stay warm."
"Not a chance," Rory states flatly. "If you want coffee, you have to come inside."
Sighing, Lorelai tightly closes her eyes and places her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "Coffee, salad. . . coffee, salad," she repeats as she ponders her options.
"I'm going in," Rory responds.
"I don't need this kind of stress so early in the morning." Lorelai moans as she begrudgingly makes her way into the diner.
The women are greeted by the warmth and bustle of the diner. Making their way towards two empty stools at the counter, each glances furtively around the diner, searching for the different men so impacting their worlds. One's life has been changed suddenly and unexpectedly the way water is impacted when a rock hits its surface. The other has felt slow and gradual changes, the way the bank feels the water's ripples after the rock is dropped.
"Morning," Luke's voice calls from behind the Gilmore girls.
Startled, they turn and look at him.
"Hey Luke," Rory sings, her eyes bright and dancing.
"Luke," Lorelai greets less certainly.
Walking around the counter, Luke automatically heads to the coffee pot. Picking up two mugs and setting them in front of the women, he pours them coffee and asks "What can I get for you this morning?"
"I'll have French toast and mom would like a great big salad," Rory responds for both women.
"Thrown to the wolves by my own flesh and blood," Lorelai says, staring at her daughter.
"Ready to start working off your debt so soon?" Luke grins. "Impressive. I pulled the extra large salad bowls out of storage for you. Let me just go-"
"No!" Lorelai interrupts. Staring daggers at Rory she continues, "A very reliable source assured me that salad is not breakfast food. I'll have a doughnut."
"Chop it up and put it in her salad," Rory suggests to Luke.
"Good idea," Luke says as he turns to walk into the kitchen.
"No!" Lorelai cries. "Really. I can't take it this early in the morning. It will be like kryptonite to Spiderman."
"Spiderman?" Luke asks, puzzled. Eyebrows knit together, he turns to gaze at Lorelai.
"She's experiencing a bit of a power failure this morning," Rory explains.
"Brain synapses all firing at different rates?" Luke grins.
"Something like that," Rory answers for her mother.
"It is not funny!" Lorelai interjects. "This is serious, like ZZ Top forgetting to pack their make-up when they go on tour, serious."
"ZZ Top wears make-up?" Luke says, rubbing his forehead. "With those beards, how can you tell?"
"Kiss!" Lorelai corrects herself, groaning. "I meant Kiss. You know, Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons. . ."
"Wow," Luke breathes, staring at Lorelai as if she has suddenly sprouted two additional arms and an extra nose. "What are you, some sort of pod person?" Looking at Rory he continues, "Do you have the real Lorelai tied up somewhere?"
"Dirty," Rory deadpans.
"I was gonna say that!" Lorelai protests.
"Huh. Apparently slow responses are another unfortunate side effect," Rory informs her mother.
"I'm gonna hyperventilate," Lorelai announces.
"Don't worry, mom. I'm sure this is a temporary condition."
Turning to Luke, her eyes betraying her growing apprehension, Lorelai petitions, "Please. A doughnut and hold the salad. I beg of you."
"You'll come back for lunch-" Luke begins.
"And eat salad," Lorelai finishes for him. "Yes. Scout's honor."
"OK, one doughnut and one order of French toast coming up."
"Better make it two doughnuts," Lorelai calls to Luke's departing back. "This morning has 'bad day' written all over it."
Looking at Rory, Lorelai continues, "I may actually need three doughnuts."
"It could only help," Rory smiles.
The diner is busy with activity. Rory's eyes survey the room once again and land on the curtain covering the stairs that lead to the apartment above. Across the diner, a baby in a highchair begins to cry. All eyes save one turn to investigate the source of the sudden disruption. Rory looks only at her coffee mug and then returns her gaze to the curtain.
"Who are you looking for?" Lorelai asks, a hint of teasing entering her voice.
"Nobody," Rory answers quickly.
"His name is Nobody? And all this time I thought his name was Jess."
"Mom-"
"Don't tell me. Nobody's like a middle name or something, right? God, that's an awful name. Who would do that to a kid? His parents should be shot."
"His middle name is not 'Nobody'."
"Well, that's a relief. What is his middle name?"
"I don't know."
"Ha! Then it could be 'Nobody'!"
"Technically, yes. Although, I think it's highly unlikely."
Lorelai cranes her neck and looks around the diner. "He is definitely not here."
Luke emerges from the kitchen placing two plates in front of the Gilmores.
"Thank God," Lorelai sighs, immediately distracted by her doughnuts.
"And Smuckers," Luke adds.
"Smuckers?" Lorelai questions.
"Where do you think the jelly comes from? Jelly filling doesn't grow on trees."
"You make your own doughnuts?"
"Yeah. The deep fryer is not just for cooking French fries."
Lorelai suddenly sits up straight. Eyes wide, she looks at Rory and whispers, "The deep fryer!"
Turning to Luke she quickly stammers, "I don't know anything about cleaning deep fryers."
Luke regards Lorelai thoughtfully before turning to Rory and asking "How long is she going to be like this?"
"It's hard to tell," Rory considers.
As Luke turns to re-enter the kitchen, Lorelai calls out, mouth filled with doughnut, "Hey Luke!"
"Yeah?"
"Where's Jess? We haven't seen him this morning."
Rory shoots her mother a warning glance, which Lorelai ignores.
"He worked double shifts for me last week so I gave him the morning off."
"Ah. Look who's an old softie."
"Eat your doughnuts," Luke grumbles as he returns to the kitchen.
"It looks like 'Nobody' will not be bursting through that curtain anytime soon."
"I guess not," Rory mumbles as she cuts into her French toast.
Time slips quietly by as the two women eat in companionable silence, each lost in thought.
Wiping her face with her napkin, Rory pushes her plate away and turns to her mother.
"Is it OK if I-" Rory begins.
"Tell him 'hi' for me," Lorelai smiles.
Jumping off her stool she beams, "Thanks mom!"
Knowing exactly where to find him, Rory's legs take her to the bridge. As it comes into view, she sees Jess, sitting in what she has come to think of as his spot. There is a book in his hand but it rests against his leg, temporarily ignored. He leans slightly back. Eyes closed, his face tilts towards the sun, soaking up the gentle early November rays. Rory pauses briefly to stare.
'God, he's beautiful,' she thinks.
Opening his eyes and turning his gaze directly towards her, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Caught, Rory blushes slightly and returns his grin. Slowly, she walks to the bridge and sits down next to him. Saying nothing, he looks at her out of the corner of his eye.
"We kissed," she says abruptly.
"Yeah," he responds, his grin broadening. "I picked up on that too."
"I mean. . . " she stammers, her blush growing a shade more vivid. "What I meant was. . . hi."
"Hi."
Jess looks at Rory expectantly, waiting.
"So. . . Um. . . Hi," she says again.
Laughing slightly, Jess whispers, "Hi."
Rory feels her pulse race. In an attempt to compose herself, she looks across the water, gazing at the opposite bank. Jess follows her lead and looks across the water as well.
Gaining confidence, Rory looks back at Jess. Catching his eye, she looks down briefly. Out of nervousness, she tucks her hair behind her ear before looking directly in his eyes. He raises his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.
"I wanted to talk to you about last night," she begins.
"So talk," he encourages.
"Well," she begins hesitantly, "it was just really unexpected. I didn't meant to-"
"Oh God Rory," Jess groans, interrupting her. "Don't."
"Don't what?" she questions.
"Don't tell me you didn't mean to kiss me. Don't tell me you didn't mean for any of it to happen and that you're sorry and you just want to be my friend."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Don't say you regret it," he continues as if she has not spoken.
"Jess-"
"And that you're not over Dean and you don't want to lead me on or hurt me. I don't know what I'd do if-"
"Stop!" she commands.
Silenced and vulnerable, Jess exhales deeply. When he finally looks at her, she sees in his eyes a hurt lost child.
"That's exactly what I didn't mean to do," she sighs.
"What?"
"Put that look on your face. That's the same look you had last night when I told you I wanted to know what you know.
"What are you talking about?"
"Last night," Rory flounders, gesturing her hands. "That look. Your past. All of it."
Shaking his head dismissively, Jess asserts, "You're blowing that out of proportion. I'm fine with my past. It's over."
"It's not over."
"It is over," he states firmly. "I've moved on."
"No," she says softly. "You carry it with you."
"I don't think you're qualified to psychoanalyze me," Jess says, irritation rising. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his gaze back across the water.
"It's just like Tim O'Brien said."
"Who?"
"Did you read The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien?"
"You're comparing me to a Vietnam vet?"
"It just reminds me of you."
"This conversation is getting ridiculous."
"No, think about it. They carried mosquito netting, guns, ammo, malaria tablets, M&Ms, comic books, old love letters, good luck charms, water, radios, first aid, kool aid packets. . ."
"Now I see the connection," Jess deadpans, interrupting Rory's list. "I never go anywhere without my mosquito netting and kool aid."
"No, you never go anywhere without a book," she corrects, gesturing to the book in his hand. "Tim O'Brien goes into a lot of detail about the physical things the soldiers in Vietnam carried and how much each weighed."
Jess is silent as he listens to Rory.
She continues with "but they also carried the emotional baggage of men who might die. Grief, terror, love, longing - O'Brien asserts that the intangibles have their own mass and specific gravity. The mass and gravity combine to give them a tangible weight just like the physical burdens."
"Rory-"
"He says they carried the common secret of cowardice barely restrained, the instinct to run or freeze or hide, and that those secret burdens were the heaviest of all because they couldn't be put down. They carried their reputations, their endurance, their memories of friends dying and sinking into the mud. Nightmare scenes too horrific to be described, too terrible to be understood."
"What do you want from me, Rory?" Jess whispers, staring intently into her eyes.
"I want you to let me in a little."
"You don't know what you're asking. What I carry isn't pretty."
She knows he carries his missing father like an amputated limb. Her heart breaks as she wonders what other unimaginable scars hide just beneath the surface of his James Dean façade.
"If you're going to be my boyfriend, you're going to have to let me know you."
"Am I going to be your boyfriend?" he asks, tilting his head to one side studying her.
"Oh, I didn't mean. . . I'm not implying. . . just because we kissed doesn't mean. . . So, don't think that you have to. . ." Stopping herself, Rory returns Jess's gaze. Fighting her natural impulse to run, she says, "Yes. If you want to be."
"I do," Jess breathes, smiling slightly.
"Good," Rory smiles.
"Aren't you scared you'll turn out like the Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong? You might go native."
"That's one of my favorite chapters in the book!" Rory grins. "But, I don't think that's going to happen,"
"I don't know," Jess says seriously. "The girl jumped out of her culottes and into camouflage. Maybe diving into my past will have the same effect on you. Suck you under. Taint you. Drown you."
"There's no chance of me turning out like the Sweetheart in the story. First of all, I wouldn't be caught dead in culottes. Second, I'm not about to go more than two days without washing my hair, not even for you," Rory teases.
"A true girly-girl," Jess says reaching his hand to her face. He trails a finger along her jaw.
Rory shivers. Taking his hand from her face, she pulls it into her lap. Jess gives her a look that speaks of his doubt and fear. She hopes the look she gives in return says 'you can trust me.'
"So," she says gently, "tell me one thing you carry."
Scowling, Jess looks away.
"I can't think of anything," he says.
"Try starting with a tangible thing," she encourages, tightening her grasp on his hand. "It might be easier."
"I can't do this."
"Jess. . ." she whispers.
He looks at their fingers entwined and mumbles, "You'll laugh."
"No, I won't."
When Jess looks at her doubtfully, Rory adds, "I promise."
He sighs. Turning his body to face her, the words begin tumbling out, slowly at first but then picking up speed.
"My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Jackson, wrote a note to my mother telling her that I was the most advanced reader in the class. She said I had limitless potential, her words not mine," he clarifies, "and that I should be placed in AP classes."
"That's great!"
"Yeah, my mom read the letter, ruffled my hair, and then threw the note in the garbage."
"Oh Jess," Rory breathes, her eyes misting.
"I pulled the note out of the trash and saved it. I still have it. I even brought it with me when I came to Luke's."
Eyes watery, Rory looks at Jess and smiles. "I like this Mrs. Jackson."
"Yeah, well. . ." he mumbles looking away, his voice trailing off.
Rory touches her forehead to Jess's shoulder and then lifts her face to brush a soft kiss across his cheek. Standing she offers him her hand.
"C'mon," she says.
"Where?"
"The bookstore. I'm getting cold."
Standing, he takes her hand. As they walk off the bridge he pauses.
"Rory," he says.
"Hmm?" she answers turning to face him.
"You need to know. . . I'm not going to be a boyfriend the way Dean was."
Grinning widely, Rory proclaims, "I'm counting on that!"
Jess simply stares at Rory, his mind trying, and failing, to formulate a rational response.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Rory continues, her eyes becoming more serious. "The most important thing the soldiers in O'Brien's book carried was. . . each other."
Jess surveys Rory's slender shoulders and wonders if they're strong enough to share his burden. 'It's heavier than she knows,' he thinks. Looking back at her, Jess feels something inside of him start to break. A crack forms in the hard protective shell he has so carefully crafted over the years. It hurts, this new chink in his armor, this fresh tear in his chain metal. Steeling himself, he pushes through the pain and fear and kisses her anyway.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
"Mom," Rory calls as she enters the Gilmore house.
"In here," Lorelai answers from the kitchen.
"I think we need to take a more pro-active approach."
"I agree!" Lorelai states without hesitation. "To what exactly?"
"To your snappy comeback power outage."
"Oh goody! What are we going to do?"
"I just rented some of the worst movies of all time. I thought we could watch them together to stimulate your mocking response."
"Ooh," Lorelai trills, jumping up from the table. "I'll make popcorn!"
"Good idea."
"So?"
Confused, Rory asks, "So what?"
"So. . . how did it go with Jess? You did see him when you left the diner, didn't you?"
"I did," Rory blushes. "It went well."
"Yeah. . ." Lorelai begins, drawing the word out. "That is not nearly enough detail that you're giving me there. I hope you don't think my mental lapse today applies to my mothering skills because those are all up and running."
"I never doubted it," Rory grins.
"Out with it," Lorelai commands turning to face her daughter. "Spill."
"I promise I'll fill you in on all the details but, I just need to sort through the whole thing in my head for a while first."
"Oh, I hate that," Lorelai whines.
"Patience is a virtue."
"You'll tell me later?"
"Yes."
"OK," Lorelai says. Pausing briefly, she continues, "How about now?"
"This is not 'later' enough."
"OK, I understand." Lorelai pauses again, "How about now?"
"Mom," Rory sighs.
"OK, OK, OK," Lorelai concedes holding up her hands. "What'd you get?"
"Well," Rory hesitates, "I got a kiss."
"Oh, we are SO going to talk about Jess later. However, what I meant was, what movies did you get?"
"Oh," Rory replies laughing. "I got Starcrash-"
"The entertainment value of watching David Hasselhoff battle a stop motion robot with a light-saber should go without saying."
"Vampire Men of the Lost Planet-"
"The crew of a broken spaceship manages an emergency landing on the set of a Filipino caveman film that has nothing to do with vampires," Lorelai offers excitedly.
"The Thing with Two Heads-"
"The heads of Rosey Grier and Ray Milland on the same body? Who could ever get tired of that?"
". . .and Ishtar," Rory finishes.
"A movie so bad that an entire theatre of movie goers has been known to spontaneously burst out it hives!" Lorelai dances. "I feel my mocking juices revving up already! You are my all time favorite daughter!"
"You're welcome," Rory says.
As the two women trek to their living room, Rory cautions, "Don't fill up on popcorn. You still have to go to Luke's later and eat salad."
"That's the only salad comment you're allowed to make for the rest of the day," Lorelai commands while sliding in the first video.
Hopping back to the couch, she flops next to Rory. The two women snuggle together under an afghan, the bowl of popcorn balanced on their legs. Lorelai glances at her daughter, a slightly worried expression crossing her features.
"About Jess," Lorelai begins cautiously.
"Yeah?" Rory questions, beaming at her mother.
Seeing the look of utter happiness radiating from her daughter, Lorelai smiles and says, "Nevermind."
Lorelai kisses the top of Rory's head as the movie's opening credits roll.
.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
.
Well, I hope that was worth the wait. I already have parts of the next chapter developed so, hopefully, it won't take so long to post. I'd love to hear what you think in a review. Thanks!
This is the part where I apologize profusely for taking so long to write and post this chapter of Being Right is Overrated. Life basically got in the way of writing fan fiction and I've been super duper busy. Plus, I had the blues about the way the Rory/Jess relationship has been handled on the show. As a writer, I really strive to keep my stories in character. I've been discouraged because I think the characters have been acting 'out of character' on the show. Let me share with you the conclusion I have drawn - we, the viewers, were gypped. So, this is my attempt to provide fan fic readers with the Season 3 we deserved. I hope you like it.
.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
.
"C'mon Mom!" Rory calls up the stairs as she paces in the Gilmore living room.
"I'm not ready," Lorelai's disembodied voice calls down the stairs. "Go on without me."
Sighing, Rory walks to the foot of the stairs.
"He is not going to make you eat salad for breakfast," Rory says exasperatedly as she tries to coax her mother out of her bedroom.
"Oh yeah," Lorelai counters as she comes into view, the heels of her boots clicking on the stairs. "I bet that's exactly what Amelia Earhart said."
Rory is silent for a moment as she regards her mother. "Is that supposed to make sense or are you just trying to confuse me?" she questions, tilting her head to one side.
"It made more sense in my head before I actually said it."
"That's a little frightening," Rory grins. "Let's go. I'm hungry."
"Wait. Give me one more crack at it. Say it again."
"Say what again?"
"The part about Luke making me eat green stuff at 8:00 in the morning."
Sighing, Rory reasons, "You're worrying about nothing, mom. Luke will not make you eat salad for breakfast."
"I bet that's what the Indians said when they saw the pilgrims landing at Plymouth Rock."
"That's not any better."
"Oh no," Lorelai groans, descending the stairs and standing in the living room. "My snappy comeback generator is on the fritz. For my own safety, I don't think I should leave the house today."
"Now you're just stalling," Rory grins as she walks to the coat rack.
"No," Lorelai declares, urgently. "Don't you see? I'm losing my touch. Just the thought of eating salad is making me crumble. I'm turning into a blithering shadow of my formerly sharp-witted self." Motioning frantically to Rory, Lorelai urges, "Say it again."
"Nope."
"I just need one more chance. . ." Lorelai begs.
Shrugging on her own coat, she grabs her mother's coat from the rack and hands it to her saying, "Sorry mom, the moment has passed. Let it go."
Lorelai sighs petulantly and takes the coat offered to her, "This is a sign of things to come. Mark my words." Absentmindedly putting on her coat she continues, "What did Nostradamus say about the end of the word? I think this could be one of the harbingers of doom."
"I don't think Nostradamus mentioned you specifically by name."
"He might have! We should stay home and research it."
Rory turns to face her mother and says, "I don't know for certain but I'm willing to bet that you making nonsensical comments is not the signal of impending global thermonuclear warfare or whatever it is that's going to end the world. If you woke up one morning and decided to plant a vegetable garden, donate all your shoes to the Salvation Army, and give up coffee, I'd be scared. Anything short of you voluntarily moving back in with grandma and grandpa and I think the world is safe."
"Oh God. . ." Lorelai gasps, a look of horror on her face, "that would be a whole order of magnitude worse."
"My point exactly."
"You think the world isn't doomed?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Rory muses as she slips behind Lorelai and begins nudging her towards the door. "However, if it is, I don't think it's your fault."
"Maybe I should stay home just in case."
"Salad is not breakfast food."
"What if Luke's I.O.U. involves me cleaning out the deep fryer?" Lorelai counters as she stumbles towards the front door.
"Then try not to burn yourself," Rory offers helpfully.
"What if-"
"Time's up," Rory interrupts as she opens the Gilmore front door and drags her mother outside. "I'm hungry and you very obviously need coffee. You're going to the diner."
"Just bring coffee home for me."
"That doesn't work anymore." Linking her arm with her mother's arm, Rory continues, "Luke knows when you're trying to avoid coming in the diner, which by the way, is all your fault."
"How is that my fault?"
"If you hadn't avoided the diner all last summer and tried to get anyone passing by to sneak you his coffee, Luke would never have developed a sixth sense for it. Now it's too late. His Lorelai-is-trying-to-sneak-coffee- out-of-my-diner radar is finely honed and fully operational."
"That is so unfair," Lorelai grumbles.
"That is so life."
As the women engage in debate, Rory is able to maneuver Lorelai in the direction of the diner. Before Lorelai is even aware that they've been walking, the pair reach Luke's diner. Lorelai disentangles herself from Rory's grasp and takes several steps backwards.
"It's such a nice day," she begins, "I think I'll just wait here on the park bench. You know, soak up some Vitamin D."
"It's 40 degrees," Rory protests.
"Practically tropical."
"You'll freeze to death."
"Which is why you should bring me coffee. It will help me stay warm."
"Not a chance," Rory states flatly. "If you want coffee, you have to come inside."
Sighing, Lorelai tightly closes her eyes and places her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "Coffee, salad. . . coffee, salad," she repeats as she ponders her options.
"I'm going in," Rory responds.
"I don't need this kind of stress so early in the morning." Lorelai moans as she begrudgingly makes her way into the diner.
The women are greeted by the warmth and bustle of the diner. Making their way towards two empty stools at the counter, each glances furtively around the diner, searching for the different men so impacting their worlds. One's life has been changed suddenly and unexpectedly the way water is impacted when a rock hits its surface. The other has felt slow and gradual changes, the way the bank feels the water's ripples after the rock is dropped.
"Morning," Luke's voice calls from behind the Gilmore girls.
Startled, they turn and look at him.
"Hey Luke," Rory sings, her eyes bright and dancing.
"Luke," Lorelai greets less certainly.
Walking around the counter, Luke automatically heads to the coffee pot. Picking up two mugs and setting them in front of the women, he pours them coffee and asks "What can I get for you this morning?"
"I'll have French toast and mom would like a great big salad," Rory responds for both women.
"Thrown to the wolves by my own flesh and blood," Lorelai says, staring at her daughter.
"Ready to start working off your debt so soon?" Luke grins. "Impressive. I pulled the extra large salad bowls out of storage for you. Let me just go-"
"No!" Lorelai interrupts. Staring daggers at Rory she continues, "A very reliable source assured me that salad is not breakfast food. I'll have a doughnut."
"Chop it up and put it in her salad," Rory suggests to Luke.
"Good idea," Luke says as he turns to walk into the kitchen.
"No!" Lorelai cries. "Really. I can't take it this early in the morning. It will be like kryptonite to Spiderman."
"Spiderman?" Luke asks, puzzled. Eyebrows knit together, he turns to gaze at Lorelai.
"She's experiencing a bit of a power failure this morning," Rory explains.
"Brain synapses all firing at different rates?" Luke grins.
"Something like that," Rory answers for her mother.
"It is not funny!" Lorelai interjects. "This is serious, like ZZ Top forgetting to pack their make-up when they go on tour, serious."
"ZZ Top wears make-up?" Luke says, rubbing his forehead. "With those beards, how can you tell?"
"Kiss!" Lorelai corrects herself, groaning. "I meant Kiss. You know, Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons. . ."
"Wow," Luke breathes, staring at Lorelai as if she has suddenly sprouted two additional arms and an extra nose. "What are you, some sort of pod person?" Looking at Rory he continues, "Do you have the real Lorelai tied up somewhere?"
"Dirty," Rory deadpans.
"I was gonna say that!" Lorelai protests.
"Huh. Apparently slow responses are another unfortunate side effect," Rory informs her mother.
"I'm gonna hyperventilate," Lorelai announces.
"Don't worry, mom. I'm sure this is a temporary condition."
Turning to Luke, her eyes betraying her growing apprehension, Lorelai petitions, "Please. A doughnut and hold the salad. I beg of you."
"You'll come back for lunch-" Luke begins.
"And eat salad," Lorelai finishes for him. "Yes. Scout's honor."
"OK, one doughnut and one order of French toast coming up."
"Better make it two doughnuts," Lorelai calls to Luke's departing back. "This morning has 'bad day' written all over it."
Looking at Rory, Lorelai continues, "I may actually need three doughnuts."
"It could only help," Rory smiles.
The diner is busy with activity. Rory's eyes survey the room once again and land on the curtain covering the stairs that lead to the apartment above. Across the diner, a baby in a highchair begins to cry. All eyes save one turn to investigate the source of the sudden disruption. Rory looks only at her coffee mug and then returns her gaze to the curtain.
"Who are you looking for?" Lorelai asks, a hint of teasing entering her voice.
"Nobody," Rory answers quickly.
"His name is Nobody? And all this time I thought his name was Jess."
"Mom-"
"Don't tell me. Nobody's like a middle name or something, right? God, that's an awful name. Who would do that to a kid? His parents should be shot."
"His middle name is not 'Nobody'."
"Well, that's a relief. What is his middle name?"
"I don't know."
"Ha! Then it could be 'Nobody'!"
"Technically, yes. Although, I think it's highly unlikely."
Lorelai cranes her neck and looks around the diner. "He is definitely not here."
Luke emerges from the kitchen placing two plates in front of the Gilmores.
"Thank God," Lorelai sighs, immediately distracted by her doughnuts.
"And Smuckers," Luke adds.
"Smuckers?" Lorelai questions.
"Where do you think the jelly comes from? Jelly filling doesn't grow on trees."
"You make your own doughnuts?"
"Yeah. The deep fryer is not just for cooking French fries."
Lorelai suddenly sits up straight. Eyes wide, she looks at Rory and whispers, "The deep fryer!"
Turning to Luke she quickly stammers, "I don't know anything about cleaning deep fryers."
Luke regards Lorelai thoughtfully before turning to Rory and asking "How long is she going to be like this?"
"It's hard to tell," Rory considers.
As Luke turns to re-enter the kitchen, Lorelai calls out, mouth filled with doughnut, "Hey Luke!"
"Yeah?"
"Where's Jess? We haven't seen him this morning."
Rory shoots her mother a warning glance, which Lorelai ignores.
"He worked double shifts for me last week so I gave him the morning off."
"Ah. Look who's an old softie."
"Eat your doughnuts," Luke grumbles as he returns to the kitchen.
"It looks like 'Nobody' will not be bursting through that curtain anytime soon."
"I guess not," Rory mumbles as she cuts into her French toast.
Time slips quietly by as the two women eat in companionable silence, each lost in thought.
Wiping her face with her napkin, Rory pushes her plate away and turns to her mother.
"Is it OK if I-" Rory begins.
"Tell him 'hi' for me," Lorelai smiles.
Jumping off her stool she beams, "Thanks mom!"
Knowing exactly where to find him, Rory's legs take her to the bridge. As it comes into view, she sees Jess, sitting in what she has come to think of as his spot. There is a book in his hand but it rests against his leg, temporarily ignored. He leans slightly back. Eyes closed, his face tilts towards the sun, soaking up the gentle early November rays. Rory pauses briefly to stare.
'God, he's beautiful,' she thinks.
Opening his eyes and turning his gaze directly towards her, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Caught, Rory blushes slightly and returns his grin. Slowly, she walks to the bridge and sits down next to him. Saying nothing, he looks at her out of the corner of his eye.
"We kissed," she says abruptly.
"Yeah," he responds, his grin broadening. "I picked up on that too."
"I mean. . . " she stammers, her blush growing a shade more vivid. "What I meant was. . . hi."
"Hi."
Jess looks at Rory expectantly, waiting.
"So. . . Um. . . Hi," she says again.
Laughing slightly, Jess whispers, "Hi."
Rory feels her pulse race. In an attempt to compose herself, she looks across the water, gazing at the opposite bank. Jess follows her lead and looks across the water as well.
Gaining confidence, Rory looks back at Jess. Catching his eye, she looks down briefly. Out of nervousness, she tucks her hair behind her ear before looking directly in his eyes. He raises his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.
"I wanted to talk to you about last night," she begins.
"So talk," he encourages.
"Well," she begins hesitantly, "it was just really unexpected. I didn't meant to-"
"Oh God Rory," Jess groans, interrupting her. "Don't."
"Don't what?" she questions.
"Don't tell me you didn't mean to kiss me. Don't tell me you didn't mean for any of it to happen and that you're sorry and you just want to be my friend."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Don't say you regret it," he continues as if she has not spoken.
"Jess-"
"And that you're not over Dean and you don't want to lead me on or hurt me. I don't know what I'd do if-"
"Stop!" she commands.
Silenced and vulnerable, Jess exhales deeply. When he finally looks at her, she sees in his eyes a hurt lost child.
"That's exactly what I didn't mean to do," she sighs.
"What?"
"Put that look on your face. That's the same look you had last night when I told you I wanted to know what you know.
"What are you talking about?"
"Last night," Rory flounders, gesturing her hands. "That look. Your past. All of it."
Shaking his head dismissively, Jess asserts, "You're blowing that out of proportion. I'm fine with my past. It's over."
"It's not over."
"It is over," he states firmly. "I've moved on."
"No," she says softly. "You carry it with you."
"I don't think you're qualified to psychoanalyze me," Jess says, irritation rising. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his gaze back across the water.
"It's just like Tim O'Brien said."
"Who?"
"Did you read The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien?"
"You're comparing me to a Vietnam vet?"
"It just reminds me of you."
"This conversation is getting ridiculous."
"No, think about it. They carried mosquito netting, guns, ammo, malaria tablets, M&Ms, comic books, old love letters, good luck charms, water, radios, first aid, kool aid packets. . ."
"Now I see the connection," Jess deadpans, interrupting Rory's list. "I never go anywhere without my mosquito netting and kool aid."
"No, you never go anywhere without a book," she corrects, gesturing to the book in his hand. "Tim O'Brien goes into a lot of detail about the physical things the soldiers in Vietnam carried and how much each weighed."
Jess is silent as he listens to Rory.
She continues with "but they also carried the emotional baggage of men who might die. Grief, terror, love, longing - O'Brien asserts that the intangibles have their own mass and specific gravity. The mass and gravity combine to give them a tangible weight just like the physical burdens."
"Rory-"
"He says they carried the common secret of cowardice barely restrained, the instinct to run or freeze or hide, and that those secret burdens were the heaviest of all because they couldn't be put down. They carried their reputations, their endurance, their memories of friends dying and sinking into the mud. Nightmare scenes too horrific to be described, too terrible to be understood."
"What do you want from me, Rory?" Jess whispers, staring intently into her eyes.
"I want you to let me in a little."
"You don't know what you're asking. What I carry isn't pretty."
She knows he carries his missing father like an amputated limb. Her heart breaks as she wonders what other unimaginable scars hide just beneath the surface of his James Dean façade.
"If you're going to be my boyfriend, you're going to have to let me know you."
"Am I going to be your boyfriend?" he asks, tilting his head to one side studying her.
"Oh, I didn't mean. . . I'm not implying. . . just because we kissed doesn't mean. . . So, don't think that you have to. . ." Stopping herself, Rory returns Jess's gaze. Fighting her natural impulse to run, she says, "Yes. If you want to be."
"I do," Jess breathes, smiling slightly.
"Good," Rory smiles.
"Aren't you scared you'll turn out like the Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong? You might go native."
"That's one of my favorite chapters in the book!" Rory grins. "But, I don't think that's going to happen,"
"I don't know," Jess says seriously. "The girl jumped out of her culottes and into camouflage. Maybe diving into my past will have the same effect on you. Suck you under. Taint you. Drown you."
"There's no chance of me turning out like the Sweetheart in the story. First of all, I wouldn't be caught dead in culottes. Second, I'm not about to go more than two days without washing my hair, not even for you," Rory teases.
"A true girly-girl," Jess says reaching his hand to her face. He trails a finger along her jaw.
Rory shivers. Taking his hand from her face, she pulls it into her lap. Jess gives her a look that speaks of his doubt and fear. She hopes the look she gives in return says 'you can trust me.'
"So," she says gently, "tell me one thing you carry."
Scowling, Jess looks away.
"I can't think of anything," he says.
"Try starting with a tangible thing," she encourages, tightening her grasp on his hand. "It might be easier."
"I can't do this."
"Jess. . ." she whispers.
He looks at their fingers entwined and mumbles, "You'll laugh."
"No, I won't."
When Jess looks at her doubtfully, Rory adds, "I promise."
He sighs. Turning his body to face her, the words begin tumbling out, slowly at first but then picking up speed.
"My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Jackson, wrote a note to my mother telling her that I was the most advanced reader in the class. She said I had limitless potential, her words not mine," he clarifies, "and that I should be placed in AP classes."
"That's great!"
"Yeah, my mom read the letter, ruffled my hair, and then threw the note in the garbage."
"Oh Jess," Rory breathes, her eyes misting.
"I pulled the note out of the trash and saved it. I still have it. I even brought it with me when I came to Luke's."
Eyes watery, Rory looks at Jess and smiles. "I like this Mrs. Jackson."
"Yeah, well. . ." he mumbles looking away, his voice trailing off.
Rory touches her forehead to Jess's shoulder and then lifts her face to brush a soft kiss across his cheek. Standing she offers him her hand.
"C'mon," she says.
"Where?"
"The bookstore. I'm getting cold."
Standing, he takes her hand. As they walk off the bridge he pauses.
"Rory," he says.
"Hmm?" she answers turning to face him.
"You need to know. . . I'm not going to be a boyfriend the way Dean was."
Grinning widely, Rory proclaims, "I'm counting on that!"
Jess simply stares at Rory, his mind trying, and failing, to formulate a rational response.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Rory continues, her eyes becoming more serious. "The most important thing the soldiers in O'Brien's book carried was. . . each other."
Jess surveys Rory's slender shoulders and wonders if they're strong enough to share his burden. 'It's heavier than she knows,' he thinks. Looking back at her, Jess feels something inside of him start to break. A crack forms in the hard protective shell he has so carefully crafted over the years. It hurts, this new chink in his armor, this fresh tear in his chain metal. Steeling himself, he pushes through the pain and fear and kisses her anyway.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
"Mom," Rory calls as she enters the Gilmore house.
"In here," Lorelai answers from the kitchen.
"I think we need to take a more pro-active approach."
"I agree!" Lorelai states without hesitation. "To what exactly?"
"To your snappy comeback power outage."
"Oh goody! What are we going to do?"
"I just rented some of the worst movies of all time. I thought we could watch them together to stimulate your mocking response."
"Ooh," Lorelai trills, jumping up from the table. "I'll make popcorn!"
"Good idea."
"So?"
Confused, Rory asks, "So what?"
"So. . . how did it go with Jess? You did see him when you left the diner, didn't you?"
"I did," Rory blushes. "It went well."
"Yeah. . ." Lorelai begins, drawing the word out. "That is not nearly enough detail that you're giving me there. I hope you don't think my mental lapse today applies to my mothering skills because those are all up and running."
"I never doubted it," Rory grins.
"Out with it," Lorelai commands turning to face her daughter. "Spill."
"I promise I'll fill you in on all the details but, I just need to sort through the whole thing in my head for a while first."
"Oh, I hate that," Lorelai whines.
"Patience is a virtue."
"You'll tell me later?"
"Yes."
"OK," Lorelai says. Pausing briefly, she continues, "How about now?"
"This is not 'later' enough."
"OK, I understand." Lorelai pauses again, "How about now?"
"Mom," Rory sighs.
"OK, OK, OK," Lorelai concedes holding up her hands. "What'd you get?"
"Well," Rory hesitates, "I got a kiss."
"Oh, we are SO going to talk about Jess later. However, what I meant was, what movies did you get?"
"Oh," Rory replies laughing. "I got Starcrash-"
"The entertainment value of watching David Hasselhoff battle a stop motion robot with a light-saber should go without saying."
"Vampire Men of the Lost Planet-"
"The crew of a broken spaceship manages an emergency landing on the set of a Filipino caveman film that has nothing to do with vampires," Lorelai offers excitedly.
"The Thing with Two Heads-"
"The heads of Rosey Grier and Ray Milland on the same body? Who could ever get tired of that?"
". . .and Ishtar," Rory finishes.
"A movie so bad that an entire theatre of movie goers has been known to spontaneously burst out it hives!" Lorelai dances. "I feel my mocking juices revving up already! You are my all time favorite daughter!"
"You're welcome," Rory says.
As the two women trek to their living room, Rory cautions, "Don't fill up on popcorn. You still have to go to Luke's later and eat salad."
"That's the only salad comment you're allowed to make for the rest of the day," Lorelai commands while sliding in the first video.
Hopping back to the couch, she flops next to Rory. The two women snuggle together under an afghan, the bowl of popcorn balanced on their legs. Lorelai glances at her daughter, a slightly worried expression crossing her features.
"About Jess," Lorelai begins cautiously.
"Yeah?" Rory questions, beaming at her mother.
Seeing the look of utter happiness radiating from her daughter, Lorelai smiles and says, "Nevermind."
Lorelai kisses the top of Rory's head as the movie's opening credits roll.
.
. ~ . ~ . ~ .
.
Well, I hope that was worth the wait. I already have parts of the next chapter developed so, hopefully, it won't take so long to post. I'd love to hear what you think in a review. Thanks!