Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story idea.
A/N: Here it is, the week before Christmas, Thanksgiving with the Gilmores. Sorry for the delay. It will probably happen again. Thank you Jade-Tessier for being such a wonderful beta-reader.
~~
The next day, Luke and Lorelai strode up the front walk of Lorelai's parents' house. The weather had turned cold recently and Lorelai was bundled up in her scarf and mittens. As they shivered on the doorstep after ringing the bell, Lorelai commented, "I'm freezing!"
"You should have worn a hat," said Luke admonished.
"Do you know how long this hairdo took?" she scoffed. "A hat would flatten it! Then what's the point?"
"You're such a philosopher," Luke teased. "What's the point of anything, really?" He shifted the pumpkin pie from one hand to the other so he could rub her back through the leather coat she was wearing and she rolled her eyes at him.
Before Lorelai could come up with a reply, the door opened to reveal her mother on the other side.
"Happy Thanksgiving," Emily cried jovially, pleased to see them.
"Are you on the Quaaludes again?" Lorelai asked suspiciously, her brow wrinkled.
"Yes," rejoined Emily, her face falling and voice dripping with sarcasm. "These 'mother's little helpers' are simply magical."
Lorelai chortled as she and Luke entered the house. "I think that might be the first time you've ever had a come back!"
"Hello again, Luke, how are you?" asked Emily, ignoring
Lorelai's comment.
"I'm good, thanks. Here's the pie," replied Luke as he handed her the dessert and shook her hand.
"Wonderful! It looks delicious," said Emily warmly.
A maid appeared from nowhere to take the pie and their coats. Luke was wearing a black suit, dark blue shirt and black tie. "Very GQ," Lorelai had told him when he'd emerged from the bedroom and they'd passed in the hallway. Lorelai was wearing a low-cut, dark red satin top with three-quarter sleeves and a knee-length black skirt with her boots. "Very hot," he'd told her in reply.
Just then, Richard entered from the living room and said, "Well! Happy Thanksgiving everyone."
"Happy Thanksgiving," returned Luke with his hand extended. Richard accepted and shook it heartily.
"Come in, come in," said Emily as she ushered everyone into the living room. "Richard will you get the drinks? Angelique! The Hors d'oeurves!"
"What can I get everyone to drink?" asked Richard.
"I'll have a scotch," replied Luke with a smile.
"White wine, please," said Lorelai, wondering if they'd perhaps stumbled into a Stepford house. "So, Rory isn't here yet?"
Luke and Lorelai sat on one of the settees and accepted the gourmet appetizers on silver plates.
"I've got your scotch right here, Luke," said Richard as he handed Luke the drink he hadn't asked for.
"Not yet," confirmed Emily. "Tell us what's new with you, two. Lorelai, how's the inn? We've been meaning to make a reservation to come and look at all your hard work."
"So far, it's been very successful," she answered. "Once we make it through the holidays and hit the slow season, though – "
"Slow season? When is the slow season?" Emily interrupted.
"Typically, the travel industry suffers a slump during the winter months," explained Lorelai. "January, February, and March are terrible for traveling, especially in Connecticut, so everyone experiences a bit of a downturn."
Richard and Emily gazed at her a moment with expressions of dazed awe. They were impressed. Lorelai noticed and nudged Luke. He smiled at their expressions and rubbed her knee.
"Long story short," continued Lorelai, "if you'd like to come and stay, it might be best to do so one weekend during those months because we're booked solid until after New Year's."
"That sounds lovely," commented Richard, sincerely.
"We'd be delighted," added Emily, with a smile.
The doorbell rang and Richard said, "You get it Emily, I want to ask Lorelai more about this slump."
Emily left to let Rory in and Lorelai couldn't help but acknowledge that, for the first time since Rory's birth, her father had chosen her over Rory. They talked for a few more minutes until Rory entered with Emily and they exchanged hugs.
"So, how's Yale treating you?" Richard asked once Rory was seated next to Lorelai with a drink in her hand.
"It's good, but crazy," she said. "I feel like I've just finished midterms and now finals are just around the corner. The school year is very messed up there. My last day of classes for the semester isn't until December twentieth."
"Wow, that's pretty late," said Lorelai.
"One day at a time," said Luke with encouragement.
"Yes," Richard agreed. "The only thing you can do when you panic is panic. Nothing else gets accomplished."
"That sounds like a sequel to I Ain't Got Time To Bleed. You could do some motivational speaking with that," joked Lorelai.
"Your grandfather and Luke are right, Rory," Emily stated, changing the subject. "Take things one day at a time."
"Thanks, I'll try," replied Rory with a smile.
"Dinner is served, Mrs. Gilmore," said Angelique from the doorway to the dining room.
Once everyone was settled at their places around the table, Richard said, "And Luke, how is the diner? Did you ever hire on more help?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. He's doing great. He's a local kid from the high school, so I'm thinking that this summer he'll be able to work even more hours. I'm looking forward to having some time to take off."
"Haven't you ever taken time off before?" asked Emily.
"Well, I have, but it's usually only for a few days. When I do, I have to close the diner down. This way, I'll be able to keep the place open and take a little vacation at the same time."
"He sounds just like you, Richard," commented Emily.
"Now, Emily," Richard scolded. "There is nothing wrong with having a strong work ethic."
"I didn't say there was, I only pointed out that he has one," she answered reasonably.
"Oh. Well, in that case, you're correct," allowed Richard.
"Thank you for that," replied Emily dryly.
Angelique entered then with a massive turkey precariously balanced on a silver platter. She set the tray down in front of Richard with a small grunt and retreated back to the kitchen.
"Are you sure no one else is invited, Mom?" asked Lorelai suspiciously.
"Of course I'm sure. What an ridiculous question," snapped Emily.
"I think the size of that turkey is what's ridiculous," Lorelai noted. "We're not feeding all of Iraq tonight, are we?"
"Rory," Emily began pleasantly, "why must your mother incessantly pick at things? Why can't she simply sit back and enjoy Thanksgiving?"
Rory looked from her mother to her grandmother and said, "I think I'm going to plead the fifth on this one."
"Rory," began Lorelai in perfect imitation of her mother's tone, "why must your grandmother always address you when complaining about me? Don't you think it would be more mature of her to direct her comments to me, the person who is pissing her off?"
Rory shrank back into her chair. Emily hated vulgarity of any kind, especially at the table. For Lorelai to use the work 'pissing' meant that she was deliberately goading her mother.
Luke, feeling the tension, took a gulp from his scotch and put a hand on Lorelai's knee. Richard looked up from the turkey he was carving and glanced from his wife to his daughter. Silence shrouded the table.
"If you do not like the size of our turkey you are welcome to enjoy your holiday elsewhere. In fact, perhaps you'd be more comfortable at a barroom somewhere, smoking a cigarette while hustling pool. If you do, in fact, wish to remain in this house, you will not continue to use language like that. However," she added after drawing a deep breath, "perhaps I should address you since you are the one who is annoying me. We have always gotten a turkey this size and we thought this year we could simply give the leftovers to charity. Does that plan meet with your approval?"
Lorelai, feeling ridiculous at this point, answered with false bravado, "I suppose. Thank you for clearing that matter up."
After a few more seconds of silence, Richard said, "So, Rory, what courses will you be taking next semester?"
The conversation drifted after that and things calmed down as they enjoyed their dinner.
Just as Angelique was clearing the table, the doorbell rang. "Oh, that must be Charlie," Rory observed as she got up to answer the door. The remaining four walked back into the living room for coffee and dessert.
Pleasantries were exchanged as Angelique brought out the trays of pie.
"Does everyone remember Charlie?" Rory asked.
"Of course," said Emily, ever the pleasant hostess. "Won't you sit down.
"Nice to see you again," said Richard as Rory and Charlie took a seat on one of the settees. "You remember Luke and Lorelai."
"Yes," replied Charlie, "It's nice to see you all again. Thank you for having me."
"How are your classes treating you?" inquired Richard.
Charlie sat back confidently and said smiling, "I'm doing the best I can."
"Don't let him fool you, Grandpa," interrupted Rory, chuckling. "He's getting As in everything. Keeping up with him is a challenge."
"Excellent," boomed Richard. "And your father. How is he doing? I saw that outrageous article in the New York Times. What a rag that paper is!"
"Richard, please, must we talk business on Thanksgiving?" Emily tried to scold.
"My father is fine. I left him enjoying dessert."
"Outstanding. Actually," Richard praised, "this is one of the best desserts I've ever eaten. Did you really help make this, Lorelai?"
"Well," she hedged as all eyes turned toward her, "I actually had more of a supervisory role than an actual active role in the pie-making process."
Luke smiled and added, "But she's a great supervisor. If she hadn't reminded me to take the shoes out of the oven I don't know what would have happened."
Lorelai pinched his arm in retaliation as Emily gasped, "Why in the world do you keep shoes in your oven?"
"Well, I have a limited amount of closet space and we never use the oven, so it seemed logical at the time," Lorelai answered simply.
"You could have burned your house down!" censured Richard sternly.
"Potato, Potah-to," replied Lorelai as she shoveled another forkful of pie into her mouth.
Richard turned to Rory and said, "I hope you have more sense than to ever try that, young lady."
"Um, where do you think I got the idea?" Lorelai piped up finally. "Brainiac over there is the one who noted all that wasted space in the oven"
"In my defense," Rory said, "I was only eleven at the time."
"You take storage advice from eleven year olds?" asked Emily.
"Only when it makes sense," Lorelai stated firmly.
Rolling her eyes, Emily gave up and the topic changed, much to Lorelai's relief.
On their way home that night Lorelai scolded Luke playfully, "How could you sell me out like that?"
"How was I supposed to know they didn't know about the shoes in the oven?"
"Uh, common sense?"
"Oh, you mean the common sense that would tell a normal person not to put shoes in the oven?"
"You're impossible," Lorelai grumbled.
"What about you with the potty-mouth at the table?"
"Potty-mouth? Potty-mouth? When exactly did Taylor jump in the car with us? Because I know that my boyfriend, Luke, would never use language usually found on playgrounds with soccer-moms in attendance."
"Don't try to avoid the question. You were deliberately creating a scene. You wanna tell me why?"
"I was not," she cried in mock offense. He gave her a look that told her she couldn't fool him. "Well, okay, maybe I was a little."
"Why?"
"Because, when I saw that turkey, I thought it was a trap and the huge gala that they usually hold was just in the next room waiting for it's cue to enter and ruin everything."
Luke said nothing to this. Finally, he ventured, "Okay, I can understand your reluctance. And I can understand your wanting to be reluctant in trusting them completely, but don't you think this evening shows that you can start trusting them again, even if it's just a little?"
"Maybe," griped Lorelai. "We'll see."
