I don't own any of these characters, sadly they all belong to the WB. The
song belongs to the Eagles.
Desperado
.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you Can hurt you somehow
.
The Way There
.
Scenery passes by me in a whirl of deep scarlet reds, golden yellows, and fading greens. The sun sets directly in front of me, I put my sunglasses on. I imagine that if I continue on this never ending black road that I will reach it. I will find a place where there is no darkness, only light.
But alas, at the next exit I turn my blinker on and dutifully slide into the next lane. I am on my way to Stars Hollow for the third time in the past year. And that includes every holiday. It's not that I don't enjoy visiting my childhood home, it really isn't. It just seems that Mom's life is so separate from mine now, that I am intruding on it every time I go. She has her own family now. It's as though I was a child millions of years ago, when in fact it was only ten years ago that I started high school.
The sun has left the sky now, leaving me with the stars and a moon made of butter. I hate the night, it leaves too much time for thinking. During the day I am always on the go, whether it's researching a new story, finding the right words or just wolfing down lunch; I never have time to think about my life. How much it sucks that is.
It seems that I have reached a stand still. My life is routine- wake up, go to work, work, go home, have dinner and then find time for sleep. That's why I don't enjoy the night, there is time to find the loose ends. And it's not like I don't have a social life, I do. Really. But I haven't been on a fourth date in I don't know how long. Trust issues I guess.
I "broke up" with John just yesterday, the excuse I gave my best friend Kylie was that I can't stand the name John. And I really can't. John is the boringest name ever! She corrected me on my grammar and then pointed out to me that it wasn't his name- it's never the name. Kylie always manages to keep me sane, has since Yale.
I just wish I could find the right name . . .
I have been sitting in the driveway for five minutes now, contemplating whether to go inside right away. They're all in there right now- together, being a nice cozy family. As in, 'pass the ketchup' and 'remember to say please'. I hate intruding on their world! I never thought that I could feel like an outsider in my own house, but I do. Although, I can't say it's really my house anymore, I mean my room has even been given away. Sometimes the jealousy consumes me so much that it brings tears to my eyes and I hate myself.
This time it's not just a few days that I'll be spending in Stars Hollow. It's two weeks. Apparently I need a holiday- that's what my boss thinks anyway.
I know that I won't be able to sit out here by myself much longer, Mom will know soon. At least we still have our mother daughter connection, at least we haven't lost that. . . yet.
I am the most negative person I know. How did this happen?
Sure enough, I see the light flicker on the porch and the door flies open. I step out of the car with a grin on my face, and it's real. She's tumbling down the steps her arms spread eagle. It's really good to see her again.
I say this to her as she embraces me so hard that I have trouble breathing.
"Oh, my little baby. I've missed you." Mom says holding me so tight.
"Me too Mom." And now I have tears in my eyes. I want to stay there and pretend that I'm a little girl again. It's just myself and Mom who loves me more than anything or anyone in the world. "Don't let go yet," I whisper.
"I won't," she says.
We stand there like that for a good few minutes until I hear little feet scampering down the steps heading towards us. I don't want out world to be punctured, but it is as I feel two pairs of arms thrown around us.
"Rory!" They yell excitedly, their brown eyes gleaming up into mine.
I kneel down to catch both of my brothers into a hug, "Hey guys! How's it going?"
"Good." They chime together.
"What have you been up to?" I ask and brush a brown lock out of Matthew's eyes.
"Stuff." Comes the usual answer.
I look up at my mom, "Do they ever speak out of unison?"
She shrugs with a grin on her face, "Rarely."
The front door opens again and Luke strides out smiling, backwards hat and all. The boys rush to him yelling and screaming that I'm finally here; he picks both of them up in one swoop and carries them over to me.
"Hey Luke."
He leans over to kiss my cheek, "Rory, how've you been?"
"Great," I smile and say, "How have you been treating my mother?"
"Like a queen."
Mom snorts beside me, "Right. So a queen deserved to be banned from coffee this morning?"
Luke furrows his eyebrows, "You already had four cups! One of these days you're going to get cancer!" He turns to me, his expression lighter "Where's your suitcase?"
"Trunk. Thanks Luke." I automatically hand him the keys. "I knew he was good for something." I say as I turn to Mom.
He lets the boys down who immediately scramble to my side. Tyler tugs my hand until I look down at him, "Mom's not really going to get cancer is she?"
"Of course not." I say and scoop him up, "She just likes coffee a lot."
"Well, I don't." And he crosses his arms. I can't help but kiss him on the cheek, I have the cutest twin brothers.
Mom rolls her eyes, "They've been hanging around their father too much."
I laugh and walk into the house with the perfect family in tow.
***
My hands close around the warm coffee cup, I breathe in its aroma and sigh with pleasure. Mom joins me minutes later where I am curled up on the couch.
She settles down next to me, "Living with a man who owns a dinner definitely has its pluses." She takes a long satisfying sip.
Only minutes ago Luke had put the boys to bed and than left us, he seems to always know when we need to be alone. So it is me and Mom again, I can almost imagine that I have a test tomorrow in History and she's trying to talk me out of studying.
But instead she says, "What's been up with you?" She tugs on my foot.
I give her my best confused face. "What do you mean?" I ask innocently.
"Don't play games with me hon, I'm your mother. I know when something's up." She stares at me with her familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes that I see everyday in the mirror, blue eyes that were only given to me.
Another sip of coffee falls down my throat, hot and pleasing. "It's nothing," I say.
"Rory."
I don't want to tell her what's upsetting me. I'm so ashamed.
"You haven't been to visit me at all this year."
My eyes fall on hers, I can see the hurt there. "I know," I say. I can feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up my neck.
She only says one word. But it's that one word that wounds me the most. "Why?"
A sigh escapes from my lips and I play with the blanket that had been pulled over my legs moments before. I pull at its strings, letting them stretch and then fly back.
Her hand closes over mine. "Rory, we've always been able to talk to each other."
But this time she wouldn't understand. I don't want to see the pain I will inflict upon her if I tell her.
"Rory, look at me."
I can't though. I just can't. If I look at her I might give it all away.
"You know I haven't forgotten you."
And my head jerks upward. How did she know that was the one thing I wanted her to say?
"You're still my favorite daughter."
I force a smile, "I'm your only daughter."
"Not the point." And now she smiles too.
I link my hand with hers, "I guess I have felt a little like an outsider each time I come."
"That's because you don't come often enough."
I know that tonight would be made of confessions.
"Sometimes I miss it being just you and me." I say in a very small voice. God, I am so ashamed, but still the words spill from my mouth. "I mean it seems like our lives are so separate now. That we were mother and daughter ages ago. It sometimes feels like it never even happened."
When I look up at her I don't see disappointment or sadness, instead I watch as relief washes over her face. "Ya know what hon? Sometimes I feel exactly the same way. But you have to remember that those were the best years of my life, we were best friends and we still are."
I nod my head as tears spring into my eyes, "Thanks Mom."
We hug and suddenly everything seems alright in the world, that maybe my life isn't so bad. When you hug your mother things have a way of looking up.
Later on all of my worries and confessions have flowed from my mind into my mouth. I tell her everything- about my stressful job, the never ending routines of my life, John, and how I can't seem to find the right name.
"Hmm, John. Yeah, I for one have never been very partial to that name." Mom says with a thoughtful expression. "Except of course when it came to John Cougar."
"Mellencamp."
"Cougar."
"Mellencamp."
"Cougar."
"Hurts So Good."
"Jack and Diane."
"Ain't that America."
"This house was almost-"
"Painted pink." I say with her. How many times have we been over this? I laugh and she does too. "I've really missed this." I admit.
"Me too."
"I guess I should come around more often." I say. And I mean it.
"Yeah, you should." She says. And then suddenly she sits up very quickly. If there had been any coffee left in her cup I'm sure it would have spilled every where. "Oh! I ugh, I um . . . I kinda forgot to ugh, tell you something."
I look at her curiously.
"I mean it's probably to big deal anyway. But I thought that if I told you, you might not come down at all.
"What is it Mom?"
"We have a visitor."
"Yeah . . . me."
"Nope, we have another coming next Sunday."
"Oh." I look down at my empty coffee cup. Even less time for us. There goes my negativity again!
"Don't worry about it, he's mostly just coming for Luke anyway." Mom shifts uncomfortably in her position.
"Him? For Luke?" I ask.
"Yeah, he ugh, moved back to New York City about a year ago or so, and now he's finally coming to Stars Hollow."
"Back to New York City? Do I know him?"
"Well, sure, of course you do."
I laugh, "Mom, are you going to tell me his name or what?"
Him. Visiting Luke. Moved back to New York City. Finally coming to visit Stars Hollow. The laughter dies from my lips as realization dawns on me. "Jess?" I say.
"Yeah." Mom says, her face apprehensive.
Jess Mariano? His name brings back mixed emotions. Happiness, frustration, anger, confusion, and more anger. I see his face mixed with Dean and a dark bedroom and a fist. I shake my head to clear these images, "Oh." I shrug my shoulders in a nonchalant way. "No biggie."
She stares hard at me, "You sure?"
"Yeah, I mean I haven't seen him in six years. I wonder how he's doing."
"He opened a book store in the city."
"Did he? Wow." I stop and stare at her as I take a moment to process this new information. "How come you never told me this before?"
"Because I wanted to make sure you wouldn't back out on me. And he hasn't really had much contact with Luke since he left. A few phone calls and letters. Jess sent money to Luke every now and then to pay off his debt."
I raise my eyebrows, "What debt?"
"The one from the party."
"Party? What . . ." And then I know and I giggle. "Ohhh, that party." I laugh again, "To think that they actually fought over me." I shake my head in disbelief.
"Every girl should have at least one moment when boys fight over her." Mom smiles.
I smile back and the world's alright with me again.
***
Click, click, click. His hands tighten on the book in his lap. Click, click, click. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. Click, click, click. Could he not get a little peace? Click, click , click.
"Excuse me," He finally says to the person sitting too closely next to him. "Would you mind keeping your pen to yourself?"
The woman looks up surprised, her second chin jiggling. "Well, I'm sorry hon. Didn't know it was botherin' you. Gotta keep occupied somehow." She says in a southern accent and puts her pen in her purse. "Next time just say somethin'."
Is that not what he just did? He fights off the urge to roll his eyes and returns to his book.
"What's that you're readin'?" She leans over his shoulder seeking the title.
"'The Prince of Tides'." He says in an exasperated voice. He already knows what's coming.
"S'that so?" Her deep green eyes contrast heavily with her bright yellow hair. "Now, I've never been much of a reader myself. But I do what I can."
He doesn't really think she does what she can, but he nods politely anyway.
Suddenly her eyes widen in surprise, "Why I believe I've seen that movie!" Her chin trembles with excitement.
How did he get stuck by her? He groans, "Barbara Streisand?"
She pats him on the arm good naturally, "Yeah! That was her. She played a psychoatrist or something of the sort."
"If you have the time, read the book. It surpasses the movie by far."
"Well, thanks for the tip darlin'. I reckon I will."
He gives a sigh of relief thinking the conversation is over. He opens his book once again.
"So where are you headed?"
Damn. "Stars Hollow."
She smoothes out her bright purple blouse, "Never heard of it."
"Small town. Very small."
"Goin' for a visit home?" When she smiles two large dimples appear on either side of her face.
"You could say that." He says nodding.
"Turn that frown upside down!" She says suddenly.
He hasn't realized he is frowning. So much in fact that wrinkles appear on his young face. "Excuse me?" He says surprised.
"I know goin' back home can be tough, but you've gotta face it with a smile. That's my theory on life anyway."
"Smile when you go back home?" He says nearly smirking.
"No, smile when life gets rough."
"Huh." But he can't help but take her advice.
"Now there's a pretty face! So what's so bad about goin' home anyway?"
He watches as she takes a magazine out of her enormous purse and flips idly though it with long red finger nails.
"You could poke an eye out with those." He says.
She holds a hand up to the light, "That's why I like em'. And don't go changin' the subject."
"Because I hurt a lot of people when I left." He stares out the window, tiny stars wink back at him. He would make it by morning.
"Ohh, did you now? Well, that happens." She slices to the next page of her magazine "Would ya look at this?" She holds it up to him, there is a picture of some celebrity caught in the act of cheating on their wife with a stripper. "Disgusting. The things they put in the news these days. But sometimes you've gotta get on your own. I did the same thing when I was eighteen. Hightailed my way outta Grace, Mississippi to Hollywood, had it in my mind to be an actress."
"Did it work?"
She laughs heartily, "Can you really see me on T.V? No, I ended up waitressin'. Wouldn't change a thing though, met my husband there. Had four beautiful kids." She pauses to lick her finger and turn another page. "Nope, wouldn't change a thing."
"Did you ever go back?"
"Yessir I did, to announce my engagement. My Mama was right mad at me, but I'm glad I did. Set things straight between us again. Sometimes leavin' home is the only way to find yourself. It was for me anyway." She sighs looking at her magazine, "Wish I had those legs." And then shakes her head, flipping to the next page. "Who'd you hurt?"
"My uncle." He doesn't understand why he is telling her this, he's never told anyone this. "He took me in when my mom threw me out. I lived with him for two years and he put up with all my shit." He sighs too and stares out the window. "I left without a good bye or a thank you."
"Mmm," She says thoughtfully. "That hurts. So you were one of those 'don't need anyone kids'. There a girl?"
He looks back at her surprised, "How'd you know?"
"There's always a girl." She says knowingly.
"Yeah there was a girl. The first one that ever really cared about . . . well the first that cared." He could see her blueberry blue eyes caught in the corner of his mind.
"And you let her go did you?"
"Yeah."
"Any regrets?"
"No."
"Good for you. You can't live your life with regrets, that's what I always say." She shakes her head again and runs a red claw through her scorched hair.
"You have a lot to say about life don't you?" He says holding back a laugh.
"Don't you forget it." She stuffs the magazine back into her purse. "So why are you goin' back sugar?"
He doesn't want to answer this question, it was still too painful, too fresh. "Same reason you did."
Her face lights up, he notices how her smile reaches her eyes. "Congratulations!"
He waves her off with a hand, "Don't get excited too fast. It was the reason, but not anymore."
The lights turns out in her eyes, "Oh no."
"Happened nearly six months ago. But I figured I'd go anyway, keep one of my promises."
"She wasn't worth your time anyway." She says haughtily.
"But she was." He rubs his temples, "And she loved me. I know it"
There was a small pause, and then "But ya didn't love her back."
"That's what she told me when she returned the ring." He tries to wave it off with a nonchalant shrug but fails. "I think I did- still do."
"Hmm." Is all she says as she settles back in her seat.
He narrows his eyebrows, "What's that 'hmm' for?"
"A woman always knows if their man's in love. That is, when they have a mind enough to look."
"Where do you come off telling me this?" He says suddenly angry.
"I'm just tellin' ya what I know." She says not phased by him at all.
"Then why does it hurt so much?" He asks softer this time.
She pats his hand sympathetically, "It always hurts sugar. But you'll know love when you find it, it'll slap ya in the face."
Leaning back against the hard bus seat he thinks about her words. He thinks about Sidda and how much he wanted her for his wife. But does he love her? His mind says 'of course, what do you think love is anyway?', his heart is mute. He never knows his heart. Maybe it's because he's never been loved before this.
After Sidda he never wanted to be in a relationship again. Still feels the same way. It's only now that he's finally letting her go, but sometimes he still calls her house to hear her voice, the "hello?" at the other end. Relationships aren't worth it if it always hurts this much. He could, and would make it on his own from here, he didn't need anybody but himself.
He stifles a chuckle, he sounds like a teenager. That had pretty much been his motto when he was younger, "nobody but yourself." But he learned a few things from the nearly four years spent in California.
The bus comes to a bumpy halt that causes him to grip the seat in front of him.
The woman beside him says, "Well, this is my stop sugar." She sticks out a chubby hand, "It was nice meeting you."
He smiles and puts his hand in hers, "Likewise. Thanks for letting me tell you my life story."
"No problem darlin'," she winks at him and shakes his hand. "Oh and by the way, my name's Thelma."
"Jess Mariano." Their hands separate.
Thelma shouts her goodbye as she trundles off the bus, "Good luck with that girl!"
And as the bus surges forward, Jess wonders which girl she meant.
More to come! Review Please.
Desperado
.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you Can hurt you somehow
.
The Way There
.
Scenery passes by me in a whirl of deep scarlet reds, golden yellows, and fading greens. The sun sets directly in front of me, I put my sunglasses on. I imagine that if I continue on this never ending black road that I will reach it. I will find a place where there is no darkness, only light.
But alas, at the next exit I turn my blinker on and dutifully slide into the next lane. I am on my way to Stars Hollow for the third time in the past year. And that includes every holiday. It's not that I don't enjoy visiting my childhood home, it really isn't. It just seems that Mom's life is so separate from mine now, that I am intruding on it every time I go. She has her own family now. It's as though I was a child millions of years ago, when in fact it was only ten years ago that I started high school.
The sun has left the sky now, leaving me with the stars and a moon made of butter. I hate the night, it leaves too much time for thinking. During the day I am always on the go, whether it's researching a new story, finding the right words or just wolfing down lunch; I never have time to think about my life. How much it sucks that is.
It seems that I have reached a stand still. My life is routine- wake up, go to work, work, go home, have dinner and then find time for sleep. That's why I don't enjoy the night, there is time to find the loose ends. And it's not like I don't have a social life, I do. Really. But I haven't been on a fourth date in I don't know how long. Trust issues I guess.
I "broke up" with John just yesterday, the excuse I gave my best friend Kylie was that I can't stand the name John. And I really can't. John is the boringest name ever! She corrected me on my grammar and then pointed out to me that it wasn't his name- it's never the name. Kylie always manages to keep me sane, has since Yale.
I just wish I could find the right name . . .
I have been sitting in the driveway for five minutes now, contemplating whether to go inside right away. They're all in there right now- together, being a nice cozy family. As in, 'pass the ketchup' and 'remember to say please'. I hate intruding on their world! I never thought that I could feel like an outsider in my own house, but I do. Although, I can't say it's really my house anymore, I mean my room has even been given away. Sometimes the jealousy consumes me so much that it brings tears to my eyes and I hate myself.
This time it's not just a few days that I'll be spending in Stars Hollow. It's two weeks. Apparently I need a holiday- that's what my boss thinks anyway.
I know that I won't be able to sit out here by myself much longer, Mom will know soon. At least we still have our mother daughter connection, at least we haven't lost that. . . yet.
I am the most negative person I know. How did this happen?
Sure enough, I see the light flicker on the porch and the door flies open. I step out of the car with a grin on my face, and it's real. She's tumbling down the steps her arms spread eagle. It's really good to see her again.
I say this to her as she embraces me so hard that I have trouble breathing.
"Oh, my little baby. I've missed you." Mom says holding me so tight.
"Me too Mom." And now I have tears in my eyes. I want to stay there and pretend that I'm a little girl again. It's just myself and Mom who loves me more than anything or anyone in the world. "Don't let go yet," I whisper.
"I won't," she says.
We stand there like that for a good few minutes until I hear little feet scampering down the steps heading towards us. I don't want out world to be punctured, but it is as I feel two pairs of arms thrown around us.
"Rory!" They yell excitedly, their brown eyes gleaming up into mine.
I kneel down to catch both of my brothers into a hug, "Hey guys! How's it going?"
"Good." They chime together.
"What have you been up to?" I ask and brush a brown lock out of Matthew's eyes.
"Stuff." Comes the usual answer.
I look up at my mom, "Do they ever speak out of unison?"
She shrugs with a grin on her face, "Rarely."
The front door opens again and Luke strides out smiling, backwards hat and all. The boys rush to him yelling and screaming that I'm finally here; he picks both of them up in one swoop and carries them over to me.
"Hey Luke."
He leans over to kiss my cheek, "Rory, how've you been?"
"Great," I smile and say, "How have you been treating my mother?"
"Like a queen."
Mom snorts beside me, "Right. So a queen deserved to be banned from coffee this morning?"
Luke furrows his eyebrows, "You already had four cups! One of these days you're going to get cancer!" He turns to me, his expression lighter "Where's your suitcase?"
"Trunk. Thanks Luke." I automatically hand him the keys. "I knew he was good for something." I say as I turn to Mom.
He lets the boys down who immediately scramble to my side. Tyler tugs my hand until I look down at him, "Mom's not really going to get cancer is she?"
"Of course not." I say and scoop him up, "She just likes coffee a lot."
"Well, I don't." And he crosses his arms. I can't help but kiss him on the cheek, I have the cutest twin brothers.
Mom rolls her eyes, "They've been hanging around their father too much."
I laugh and walk into the house with the perfect family in tow.
***
My hands close around the warm coffee cup, I breathe in its aroma and sigh with pleasure. Mom joins me minutes later where I am curled up on the couch.
She settles down next to me, "Living with a man who owns a dinner definitely has its pluses." She takes a long satisfying sip.
Only minutes ago Luke had put the boys to bed and than left us, he seems to always know when we need to be alone. So it is me and Mom again, I can almost imagine that I have a test tomorrow in History and she's trying to talk me out of studying.
But instead she says, "What's been up with you?" She tugs on my foot.
I give her my best confused face. "What do you mean?" I ask innocently.
"Don't play games with me hon, I'm your mother. I know when something's up." She stares at me with her familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes that I see everyday in the mirror, blue eyes that were only given to me.
Another sip of coffee falls down my throat, hot and pleasing. "It's nothing," I say.
"Rory."
I don't want to tell her what's upsetting me. I'm so ashamed.
"You haven't been to visit me at all this year."
My eyes fall on hers, I can see the hurt there. "I know," I say. I can feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up my neck.
She only says one word. But it's that one word that wounds me the most. "Why?"
A sigh escapes from my lips and I play with the blanket that had been pulled over my legs moments before. I pull at its strings, letting them stretch and then fly back.
Her hand closes over mine. "Rory, we've always been able to talk to each other."
But this time she wouldn't understand. I don't want to see the pain I will inflict upon her if I tell her.
"Rory, look at me."
I can't though. I just can't. If I look at her I might give it all away.
"You know I haven't forgotten you."
And my head jerks upward. How did she know that was the one thing I wanted her to say?
"You're still my favorite daughter."
I force a smile, "I'm your only daughter."
"Not the point." And now she smiles too.
I link my hand with hers, "I guess I have felt a little like an outsider each time I come."
"That's because you don't come often enough."
I know that tonight would be made of confessions.
"Sometimes I miss it being just you and me." I say in a very small voice. God, I am so ashamed, but still the words spill from my mouth. "I mean it seems like our lives are so separate now. That we were mother and daughter ages ago. It sometimes feels like it never even happened."
When I look up at her I don't see disappointment or sadness, instead I watch as relief washes over her face. "Ya know what hon? Sometimes I feel exactly the same way. But you have to remember that those were the best years of my life, we were best friends and we still are."
I nod my head as tears spring into my eyes, "Thanks Mom."
We hug and suddenly everything seems alright in the world, that maybe my life isn't so bad. When you hug your mother things have a way of looking up.
Later on all of my worries and confessions have flowed from my mind into my mouth. I tell her everything- about my stressful job, the never ending routines of my life, John, and how I can't seem to find the right name.
"Hmm, John. Yeah, I for one have never been very partial to that name." Mom says with a thoughtful expression. "Except of course when it came to John Cougar."
"Mellencamp."
"Cougar."
"Mellencamp."
"Cougar."
"Hurts So Good."
"Jack and Diane."
"Ain't that America."
"This house was almost-"
"Painted pink." I say with her. How many times have we been over this? I laugh and she does too. "I've really missed this." I admit.
"Me too."
"I guess I should come around more often." I say. And I mean it.
"Yeah, you should." She says. And then suddenly she sits up very quickly. If there had been any coffee left in her cup I'm sure it would have spilled every where. "Oh! I ugh, I um . . . I kinda forgot to ugh, tell you something."
I look at her curiously.
"I mean it's probably to big deal anyway. But I thought that if I told you, you might not come down at all.
"What is it Mom?"
"We have a visitor."
"Yeah . . . me."
"Nope, we have another coming next Sunday."
"Oh." I look down at my empty coffee cup. Even less time for us. There goes my negativity again!
"Don't worry about it, he's mostly just coming for Luke anyway." Mom shifts uncomfortably in her position.
"Him? For Luke?" I ask.
"Yeah, he ugh, moved back to New York City about a year ago or so, and now he's finally coming to Stars Hollow."
"Back to New York City? Do I know him?"
"Well, sure, of course you do."
I laugh, "Mom, are you going to tell me his name or what?"
Him. Visiting Luke. Moved back to New York City. Finally coming to visit Stars Hollow. The laughter dies from my lips as realization dawns on me. "Jess?" I say.
"Yeah." Mom says, her face apprehensive.
Jess Mariano? His name brings back mixed emotions. Happiness, frustration, anger, confusion, and more anger. I see his face mixed with Dean and a dark bedroom and a fist. I shake my head to clear these images, "Oh." I shrug my shoulders in a nonchalant way. "No biggie."
She stares hard at me, "You sure?"
"Yeah, I mean I haven't seen him in six years. I wonder how he's doing."
"He opened a book store in the city."
"Did he? Wow." I stop and stare at her as I take a moment to process this new information. "How come you never told me this before?"
"Because I wanted to make sure you wouldn't back out on me. And he hasn't really had much contact with Luke since he left. A few phone calls and letters. Jess sent money to Luke every now and then to pay off his debt."
I raise my eyebrows, "What debt?"
"The one from the party."
"Party? What . . ." And then I know and I giggle. "Ohhh, that party." I laugh again, "To think that they actually fought over me." I shake my head in disbelief.
"Every girl should have at least one moment when boys fight over her." Mom smiles.
I smile back and the world's alright with me again.
***
Click, click, click. His hands tighten on the book in his lap. Click, click, click. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. Click, click, click. Could he not get a little peace? Click, click , click.
"Excuse me," He finally says to the person sitting too closely next to him. "Would you mind keeping your pen to yourself?"
The woman looks up surprised, her second chin jiggling. "Well, I'm sorry hon. Didn't know it was botherin' you. Gotta keep occupied somehow." She says in a southern accent and puts her pen in her purse. "Next time just say somethin'."
Is that not what he just did? He fights off the urge to roll his eyes and returns to his book.
"What's that you're readin'?" She leans over his shoulder seeking the title.
"'The Prince of Tides'." He says in an exasperated voice. He already knows what's coming.
"S'that so?" Her deep green eyes contrast heavily with her bright yellow hair. "Now, I've never been much of a reader myself. But I do what I can."
He doesn't really think she does what she can, but he nods politely anyway.
Suddenly her eyes widen in surprise, "Why I believe I've seen that movie!" Her chin trembles with excitement.
How did he get stuck by her? He groans, "Barbara Streisand?"
She pats him on the arm good naturally, "Yeah! That was her. She played a psychoatrist or something of the sort."
"If you have the time, read the book. It surpasses the movie by far."
"Well, thanks for the tip darlin'. I reckon I will."
He gives a sigh of relief thinking the conversation is over. He opens his book once again.
"So where are you headed?"
Damn. "Stars Hollow."
She smoothes out her bright purple blouse, "Never heard of it."
"Small town. Very small."
"Goin' for a visit home?" When she smiles two large dimples appear on either side of her face.
"You could say that." He says nodding.
"Turn that frown upside down!" She says suddenly.
He hasn't realized he is frowning. So much in fact that wrinkles appear on his young face. "Excuse me?" He says surprised.
"I know goin' back home can be tough, but you've gotta face it with a smile. That's my theory on life anyway."
"Smile when you go back home?" He says nearly smirking.
"No, smile when life gets rough."
"Huh." But he can't help but take her advice.
"Now there's a pretty face! So what's so bad about goin' home anyway?"
He watches as she takes a magazine out of her enormous purse and flips idly though it with long red finger nails.
"You could poke an eye out with those." He says.
She holds a hand up to the light, "That's why I like em'. And don't go changin' the subject."
"Because I hurt a lot of people when I left." He stares out the window, tiny stars wink back at him. He would make it by morning.
"Ohh, did you now? Well, that happens." She slices to the next page of her magazine "Would ya look at this?" She holds it up to him, there is a picture of some celebrity caught in the act of cheating on their wife with a stripper. "Disgusting. The things they put in the news these days. But sometimes you've gotta get on your own. I did the same thing when I was eighteen. Hightailed my way outta Grace, Mississippi to Hollywood, had it in my mind to be an actress."
"Did it work?"
She laughs heartily, "Can you really see me on T.V? No, I ended up waitressin'. Wouldn't change a thing though, met my husband there. Had four beautiful kids." She pauses to lick her finger and turn another page. "Nope, wouldn't change a thing."
"Did you ever go back?"
"Yessir I did, to announce my engagement. My Mama was right mad at me, but I'm glad I did. Set things straight between us again. Sometimes leavin' home is the only way to find yourself. It was for me anyway." She sighs looking at her magazine, "Wish I had those legs." And then shakes her head, flipping to the next page. "Who'd you hurt?"
"My uncle." He doesn't understand why he is telling her this, he's never told anyone this. "He took me in when my mom threw me out. I lived with him for two years and he put up with all my shit." He sighs too and stares out the window. "I left without a good bye or a thank you."
"Mmm," She says thoughtfully. "That hurts. So you were one of those 'don't need anyone kids'. There a girl?"
He looks back at her surprised, "How'd you know?"
"There's always a girl." She says knowingly.
"Yeah there was a girl. The first one that ever really cared about . . . well the first that cared." He could see her blueberry blue eyes caught in the corner of his mind.
"And you let her go did you?"
"Yeah."
"Any regrets?"
"No."
"Good for you. You can't live your life with regrets, that's what I always say." She shakes her head again and runs a red claw through her scorched hair.
"You have a lot to say about life don't you?" He says holding back a laugh.
"Don't you forget it." She stuffs the magazine back into her purse. "So why are you goin' back sugar?"
He doesn't want to answer this question, it was still too painful, too fresh. "Same reason you did."
Her face lights up, he notices how her smile reaches her eyes. "Congratulations!"
He waves her off with a hand, "Don't get excited too fast. It was the reason, but not anymore."
The lights turns out in her eyes, "Oh no."
"Happened nearly six months ago. But I figured I'd go anyway, keep one of my promises."
"She wasn't worth your time anyway." She says haughtily.
"But she was." He rubs his temples, "And she loved me. I know it"
There was a small pause, and then "But ya didn't love her back."
"That's what she told me when she returned the ring." He tries to wave it off with a nonchalant shrug but fails. "I think I did- still do."
"Hmm." Is all she says as she settles back in her seat.
He narrows his eyebrows, "What's that 'hmm' for?"
"A woman always knows if their man's in love. That is, when they have a mind enough to look."
"Where do you come off telling me this?" He says suddenly angry.
"I'm just tellin' ya what I know." She says not phased by him at all.
"Then why does it hurt so much?" He asks softer this time.
She pats his hand sympathetically, "It always hurts sugar. But you'll know love when you find it, it'll slap ya in the face."
Leaning back against the hard bus seat he thinks about her words. He thinks about Sidda and how much he wanted her for his wife. But does he love her? His mind says 'of course, what do you think love is anyway?', his heart is mute. He never knows his heart. Maybe it's because he's never been loved before this.
After Sidda he never wanted to be in a relationship again. Still feels the same way. It's only now that he's finally letting her go, but sometimes he still calls her house to hear her voice, the "hello?" at the other end. Relationships aren't worth it if it always hurts this much. He could, and would make it on his own from here, he didn't need anybody but himself.
He stifles a chuckle, he sounds like a teenager. That had pretty much been his motto when he was younger, "nobody but yourself." But he learned a few things from the nearly four years spent in California.
The bus comes to a bumpy halt that causes him to grip the seat in front of him.
The woman beside him says, "Well, this is my stop sugar." She sticks out a chubby hand, "It was nice meeting you."
He smiles and puts his hand in hers, "Likewise. Thanks for letting me tell you my life story."
"No problem darlin'," she winks at him and shakes his hand. "Oh and by the way, my name's Thelma."
"Jess Mariano." Their hands separate.
Thelma shouts her goodbye as she trundles off the bus, "Good luck with that girl!"
And as the bus surges forward, Jess wonders which girl she meant.
More to come! Review Please.
