Lorelai was warm. It felt good. And sleeping was good. The lovely cuddly
pillow she was squeezing was good too. She rolled over to get just a bit
more warm and comfortably good, and still more warm, too.... and fell off
the couch.
Damn.
She blinked and looked around. It seemed to be morning. She looked down. Still wearing yesterday's suit. The charm of that was decidedly lacking. But wait! What was that? She sniffed the air like a well-honed hound: Coffee! And not just any coffee—Luke's coffee! She untangled herself from the afghan and threw it back on the couch and stumbled into the kitchen.
She glanced about. The dishes from last night were clean and dry on the drainer. The coffee pot was full—she headed right over to it, filled a mug and sat down to gratefully gulp. That was when she noticed a note, weighted down at the corner by the vase of Babette's garden roses.
She picked it up to read:
Good Morning, Crazy Lady. I'm sorry I had to leave, I sure as hell didn't want to, but I had to open the diner this morning and start making meatloaf for seventy-five (Kirk wants to serve it after the funeral tomorrow.) Try to drop by today, if you can. The sooner the better, in fact.
Almost forgot---Rory called on your cell while you were asleep. She told me not to wake you, she'll call you again when she can.
Love—Luke.
P.S. Mine's on the sill over the front door.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::
Later that afternoon at The Dragonfly, Lorelai stood with furrowed brow before the industrial washing machine in the service pantry. She turned to Henry the housekeeper.
"The manual said how many towels at a time?" she asked again.
"I told you," he said impatiently, "You're supposed to be able to do a maximum load of twenty-five full-sized towels at a time."
"And how many did you put in?"
"Fifteen."
"On the maximum setting?"
"Yes, Lorelai. We've been over and over this," said Henry with no small amount of exasperation.
"Right. Okay, we're still under warranty, and we still have exactly one week until we open. Call the number and see what you can do. If they give you any flack, I'll try. Okay?" "I know I did it right," he told her.
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you did," she comforted, "We'll just take care of it. No big deal."
Just then her cell phone rang in her pocket. She walked out of the service pantry and into the back garden.
"Hello."
"Hey, Mom!"
"Hey, sweetie! How are you?! I miss you!"
"I miss you too," Rory told her.
"So are you still in Paris?" asked Lorelai as she sat down on the bench overlooking the vegetable garden.
"Yeah, we are. Listen, I just wanted you to know that I'm really sorry."
"Oh honey, we've been all through this... Everyone makes mistakes. God knows I have..."
"No, no, I'm not talking about that," said Rory definitively.
"Oh okay. You didn't go and sleep with any other old boyfriends, did you? Because that..."
"Mom!"
"Sorry, too soon for my wise but wicked wit?" laughed Lorelai.
"Much!" Rory assured her.
"Okay, sorry. Now what did you want to apologize for?"
"Grandma."
"Oh honey, I gave up looking for apologies for that woman the day she made me wear that Shirley Temple dress to the DAR picnic."
"No Mom, I'm sorry that she ripped into you the other night for my... behavior. She should not have done that. It was in no way your fault. You were right, I guess I shouldn't have talked to her about Dean after all. I mean at the time she seemed so..."
"Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up. She told you about what she said?"
"No, when I called last night I talked to Luke and he..."
"Wait a minute! Luke told you about Mom's carpet bombing?"
"Yeah, we had a good talk about it, he was so great. I mean we really talked. And I am so sorry. I was being selfish because I wanted to talk to someone and, boy, did I pick the wrong person in Grandma. If I'd known it would backfire against you..."
"Rory, slow down. What exactly did Luke tell you?"
"Well, he said that she really yelled at you and said you set a bad example and that..." Rory gulped a little here, "And that you were an awful mother... stuff like that," she sniffed.
"Oh Rory, he shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have told you."
"Why not? I'm glad he did. I don't need your protection on this, Mom. It's something I did. I should have to live with the fall-out, not you, even if it's from Grandma, and Grandpa too for that matter."
Lorelai could hear that Rory was crying now.
"No, Rory, no. This is old stuff between she and I that's rearing it's ugly head yet again. She will only ever see me in the context of my mistakes. I don't want her to see you that way too, kid," said Lorelai a little desperately.
"Well Mom, that's not how I see it, or want it. I need to have my own relationships on my own terms, even with your mother. I am going to confront her on this one," said Rory with a decided strength in her voice.
"Rory, no, please..." Lorelai was getting tearful now too.
"I'm sorry, Mom. You know I love you more than anything, but that's my decision and you're just going to have to respect it. Now I've gotta go. I will talk to you later. I love you! 'Bye."
"Rory?" Lorelai heard the line click off, "'bye," she added morosely.
Lorelai sat for just a moment then but it was long enough for her to get good and pissed. She snapped her phone shut and marched back into the Inn.
"Michel?" she called as she hurried through to the Great Room. "What do you want?!" he called irritably from the computer at the front desk.
"I am going out!" she snapped as she grabbed her hand bag from the little office behind the desk.
"Well, such is the privilege of the manor-owning class," he groused. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The diner was bustling at lunchtime peak. Every table full, waiting at the counter. Lorelai scanned the crowd, trying to glimpse the tell-tale flannel.
"Lane! Lane!" she called instead when she caught her eye.
"Hey, Lorelai! Do you want to eat? It's crazy in here today..."
"No, no, where's Luke?"
"In the back—up to his ears in Kirk's meatloaf," Lane told her and then hurried off to make ice tea and coffee rounds.
Lorelai pushed through into the kitchen.
"Luke!" she yelled, eyes ablaze.
"Hold on a minute!" he called as he bent to retrieve an enormous meatloaf from the oven.
Lorelai crossed her arms and waited impatiently.
Luke carefully set the hot meatloaf on a counter, and picked up another right next to it and popped it in where it's counterpart had just been.
"Ceasar! This time do not serve the funeral meatloaf to the customers!" he yelled.
"Hey, they smell it! Lane tells them it's not Wednesday, they want it anyway—what am I gonna do?!" Ceasar yelled back as he flipped three burgers expertly on the grill.
"You're gonna tell them 'No Meatloaf today!' Got it?"
"Yeah sure, boss," grumbled Ceasar.
"I mean it, Ceasar. I do not want to be up all night making more of this stuff!" he turned to Lorelai then with a smile, "Sorry, it's crazy in here today. Are you hungry?"
"No, Luke, I'm not. I'm not hungry," said Lorelai petulantly.
"Okay," he looked at her. "Do you want to go upstairs for a few minutes?" he asked.
"I do," she said darkly and marched up the stairs.
Luke followed her.
Once they were in the apartment, Luke smiled at her again, "Having second thoughts now that we've 'spent the night' together?" he teased.
"You know very well that we only slept, and that you left before I was even awake," said Lorelai humorlessly.
"Are you angry that I left? Is that it?" asked Luke in confusion.
"No, Luke. I'm not angry that you left. I'm angry that you talked to Rory, damn it!"
Luke sighed and took off his hat and threw it on the table before he spoke, "Listen, Lorelai, you need to understand..."
"No, you need to understand!" barked Lorelai. "You don't do this! You don't go running interference between me and my family!"
"You didn't seem to mind when I hung up on Emily!" he snapped back.
"That was different, Luke, and you know it!"
"No, I don't know that, Lorelai..."
"You don't come between me and my kid, Luke, I mean it!" Lorelai gestured for emphasis here, "It was not your place to tell her what Emily said to me. You don't defend me to her. Have you got that? And now, based on your suggestion apparently, she's gonna talk to that woman again. Or, confront her, actually. Do you know what will happen then, Luke? She will end up on the end of Emily's finely sharpened, diamond-tipped, solid platinum, custom- made-by-Tiffanys rapier! My beautiful daughter will be skewered right through, Luke! And I can't do anything about it! Jeez, I don't know how I ever thought this would work between us. I mean if you don't get me and Rory after all these years, then you never will!" Lorelai crossed her arms over her chest again and glared at him.
Luke put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, glaring back.
They held a long quiet moment between them.
"Bullshit," he finally said.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Lorelai waspishly.
"This isn't gonna work, Lorelai." he told her quietly.
"I think that's what I just said," she agreed acidly.
"No, Lorelai, you don't get it: I didn't mean 'us'. I mean what you are doing now; it's not going to work."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"No, I don't suppose you do," he concurred. "Look, I will not be compartmentalized, Lorelai."
"What?"
"I'm in your life, Lorelai. That's it. Now us pursuing this—whatever it is... each other, I guess—that's one thing. But I have been around for years. I have watched Rory grow up and I consider her my friend. I love that kid, and you know it."
Lorelai looked down at that.
"I am entitled to talk to her, Lorelai. And required to tell her the truth. And if she asks me for advice, I will do my damndest to give her the best advice I can. The fact that I also love you cannot be kept separate from that. I've tried the compartmentalized life, with Nicole, and I only just recently figured out that I didn't even begin to feel for her what I feel for you. I'm not going to live that way again. Certainly not with you."
"Luke..."
"No, no you don't," he cut her off, "You're not going to say what you were just about to say, or make an excuse, or whatever. I told you this was about us coming together, handling things together. And this is one more thing we need to figure out. Rory is grown up, Lorelai. You need to try to see that in her. Yes, she's young. And made some mistakes. That's what being young and grown up at the same time is about. You've got to let her have that. Now I know you got the cold water of reality thrown in your face far too young, but you can't shield her from that now. That wouldn't be fair. You're too good a mother for that."
"Damn it, Luke!" said Lorelai, still looking down.
"And, just for the record, if Rory had been the one to call you an awful mother, I would have hung up on her too."
Lorelai looked up at that.
"Okay," he allowed, "I probably wouldn't have hung up on her, but I would have been pissed."
"Luke..." Lorelai tired again. She felt defeated and tired.
"Not now," he shook his head, "I'm going back to work. Think about what I said." and with that he grabbed his hat, turned and went back downstairs leaving Lorelai with only herself to sigh her frustration to.
So she left the diner quietly, and without looking back.
Once in her jeep and driving home, she began mumbling angrily to herself... "thinks he can tell me how to raise my kid, does he?....thinks he can just say 'bullshit' to me and get away with it? .... 'I won't be compartmentalized, Lorelai'... huh, I'll compartmentalize him! Big old grumpy, stupid-baseball-cap-wearing, coffee-hating, needing-a-shave-all-the- damn-time Diner-man! ... Gah!"
She'd stopped in her driveway and was pounding her hands on the steering wheel in frustration now.
When she'd finished her tantrum, she leaned forward and rested her forehead down on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Crap, I want to go back to bed, she thought.
And then a tap at her window startled her back to reality. She looked up and saw Dean. How could a day that started with in-home Luke's coffee turn out so badly?
She grabbed her bag and got out of the jeep.
"Dean," she greeted brusquely.
"Hey, Lorleai, are you okay?" he asked.
"No," she told him.
"Oh..."
"Nevermind, though. What do you want, Dean? And I warn you, my maturity level is not at the heavenly heights it was when last we met."
"Okay," he said with trepidation, "I just wanted to tell you a few things. You, oddly enough, are the only person in this town who hasn't been treating me like a pariah."
"Dean, I have screwed up colossally in my own life, so I know how that is. I even know what it means to be a pariah. I don't think you are bad person, it's not my job to judge you. Would I gleefully throttle you if I could? Yeah, probably. But I am not a Victorian who thinks this was a one-sided thing. I want to throttle Rory too, in a way."
"Lorelai..."
"God, how could you both have been so stupid?!" she yelled at him, her breaking point clearly reached.
"I don't know," he told her sincerely.
Lorelai looked at him a moment and nodded, then looked away.
"Sorry, Dean. This whole thing... It's just had a lot of repercussions..." She turned to him again. "But you know that better than anyone, I suppose."
He looked down at that.
"So what did you want to tell me?" she finally asked.
"I'm going back to Chicago for the rest of the summer. My uncle has a construction company and he'll give me a job. And then I'm going to look into maybe taking some classes at the University there in the fall. So, I came to say goodbye, really. Once I'm there, I'll write Rory."
"Okay," she said and wondered why she suddenly felt sad.
"Goodbye, Lorelai," he said with one last look before he turned to go.
She turned to walk up the path to her house now, her mind cluttered with the day when the next thing she knew, her feet had somehow gone out from under her and she'd landed on her ass, twisted onto her right thigh. She looked down at the rip in her stocking which ran from ankle to knee, and gave a cry of frustration and pain.
"Oh my God! Lorelai, honey! Are you all right?!"
Naturally her klutz-fest came with a witness.
"I'm fine, Babette!" she called to her neighbor who was standing on the next door porch watching her.
Babette hurried over, "Come on, doll!" she said. "Let me help you in the house... Oh, look at your beautiful stockings, they're spoiled now..." She put Lorelai's arm around her diminutive shoulders and helped her walk up the rest of the way to the porch, "Hey, Lorelai, I just saw Dean leave. Is everything okay? He didn't push you down, did he? 'Cause I'll call the cops on that no-good kid...."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::
It took an hour but Lorelai finally managed to reassure Babette and get her to leave with as little information as possible. She sighed and headed up to take a shower then. She ascended the stairs but stopped a moment on the landing, thinking. And when she'd made her decision, she turned and went back down to her desk at the foot of the stairs. After flipping through her leather-bound phone book, she found the phone number she required.. Now she only had to make herself lift the phone and make the call. After another reflective moment, she managed it.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::
That evening it was a subdued Lorelai who stood before her parent's front door. She realized with a pause that by now she had spent a larger portion of her life without a key to this door, than with one. With a sigh over that she leaned forward and rang the bell.
After the maid admitted her and had taken her jacket, she walked into the living room and saw her be-spectacled father seated and reading The Wall Street Journal. A large scotch in his hand.
He looked up at her over his glasses and she saw, with a heavy heart, that his eyes were red and the bags under them heavy.
"Lorelai!" he said in surprise, "What are you doing here?"
"It's Friday night, Dad, I came for dinner," she said and crossed to sit opposite him.
"Oh? I didn't expect... Well, fine, I guess there's no reason why we shouldn't..." he trailed off.
"Oh, there are a probably a million reasons why we shouldn't," she told him drolly, "but I thought we should anyway."
"Right," said Richard uncomfortably.
They looked at each other a moment then.
"Dad, I don't want this to be awkward, I mean any more than usual... if you'd rather I'd go," offered Lorelai.
"No, no, I'm....glad you're here, Lorelai," said Richard politely.
"Okay," said Lorelai doubtfully.
"Excuse me, Mr. Gilmore?" said the maid at the door.
"Yes, Inez?"
"Will there now be two for dinner?"
Richard looked over at his daughter, "Yes, Inez, two for dinner," he said definitively.
Once seated, Lorelai noticed that the dinner table was an uncharacteristically austere thing. Without flowers, or silver, or crystal embellishments—all the things that sang of Emily---it seemed only flat and empty.
"So, Dad, how are you doing?" she asked him over the cold soup. "Never better," Richard tried heartily, and drained his scotch. "I can have my drink at the table when your mother isn't here," he told her with a wink.
Lorelai nodded, "So we're not going to pretend that the separation didn't happen any more?" she asked.
"I don't really see the point," he responded. "Of course I didn't see the point in not telling you in the first place. Subterfuge is your's and Emily's bailiwick," he zinged at her.
"Yeah, you're always so up front and direct, Machiavelli," volleyed Lorelai.
Richard regarded her a moment, "Touche," he capitulated. "I have to say though, my machinations are limited to the business world only."
"Except when they spill over into the personal," was her retort.
"Lorelai, why don't we just admit that we're never going to see eye to eye on this," leveled Richard.
"Well, Dad, that's very cards-on-the-table of you," she responded. "I hope," she added slyly.
They looked at each other over that and then laughed.
"Sometimes you are indeed your father's daughter," smiled Richard Gilmore, the tension broken.
"Dad, you know that I broke up with Jason?" she asked.
"Yes, I did."
"I couldn't stay with him, with things as they are."
"Well, I appreciate that, Lorelai," he told her. "I hope it wasn't too...painful for you," he allowed.
"More for him, I'm afraid," she said ruefully.
Richard only nodded at that.
"We'll still have to agree to disagree about it all, if we are going to... co-exist," she said dejectedly.
"I'm sorry it has to be that way."
"Me too," she added sadly.
"But I have to admit that I prefer...co-existence... to the alternative," he commented.
"Me too," she repeated and looked him in the eye.
And then the second course arrived.
"Have you heard from Rory?" he asked over the salmon.
"Yes," said Lorelai cautiously. "Have you heard from Mom?"
"Other than a message left with my secretary that they arrived safely, no I haven't." he admitted.
Lorelai took in her father's haggard face, "They're at Aunt Hope's in Paris," she told him kindly.
He brightened at that a bit. "Oh, Hopie is a lot of fun. They'll have a good time there. Your mother always seems to want to go dancing whenever Hope is around," he reminisced fondly.
"Rory wanted me to be sure you were all right," Lorelai told him.
"Did she? She is a kind girl," he looked over at his grown daughter, "You've done a wonderful job with her, Lorelai. And I neglected to tell you the other night in the midst of the drama, that your Inn is very beautiful as well. I'm sure it will be a great success." Richard leaned in to take a large sip of his wine then to avoid eye contact.
Incredibly touched by this from her father, she blinked back tears. "Thank you, Dad. I'm proud of both."
"Understandably so," he nodded.
"Dad, do you think that you and Mom will be able to..." she tried.
"I don't really want to talk with you about that," said Richard, "It's hard to make a child understand what parents go through."
"Dad, I'm almost thirty-eight," she smiled at him.
"No, you're not," he dismissed her, and then, "Are you really?"
"Yes, Dad. I could show you my driver's license if you like."
"That won't be necessary, Lorelai, it just doesn't seem possible."
"Oh, it's possible," she assured him wryly, "as my medicine chest full of cosmetics can attest."
They ate in companionable silence for awhile then before the dessert course arrived.
Lorelai thought of something then, "Dad, when you and Mom were dating, how was it you knew? I mean really knew that she was the one for you?"
Richard reflected on the chandelier a moment at that.
"It was so long ago, Lorelai."
"I know, Dad. It's just... I have a reason for asking," she told him.
"Is this some sort of misguided attempt on your part to reunite your mother and I? Because I would think you would have done with that after your last catastrophic failure."
"No, Dad, it isn't really. Sad as I am about you and Mom, I am staying out of that now. My reasons for asking are... personal," she said and took a sip of her wine to avoid eye contact.
"Personal? I see. Well, let's see. The thing about your mother..." he began, "I mean other than her great beauty and wit, of course," he reflected, "was that she just seemed to fit along with me. Do you understand what I mean by that?" he asked her.
"Maybe," she allowed.
"Being young and in love is one thing. It's a wonderful thing, in fact," he continued, "But she... I don't know... I just wanted to be with her all the time, and tell her about my day. And she can cheer me up like no one else ever has. And when we are quiet together, well that is just how it should be," he concluded.
"Wait a minute, Dad, I'm confused. Are you talking about back then or now?"
Richard lifted his brows in confusion, "Well, then of course. That was what you asked about, am I correct?"
"Yes, Dad, it was." she nodded, seeing more in that than was said.
"Well now, did that help you any with your personal problem?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so."
"Well, good."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::
At eleven fifteen later that evening she stood before the door, as ready as she'd ever be. She reached up then and ran her fingers over the sill until she found the key.
Before replacing it to it's hiding place, she unlocked the door.
Once inside, she took a moment to relock the door behind her, allow her eyes to adjust to the dark, and take a few deep breaths too. She climbed the stairs then and stood before the 'William's Hardware' windowed door. She could see that a single lamp was on within.
She breathed again, opened the door and stepped into the room, before she could chicken out.
She leaned against the inside of the closed door then and looked around for him.
And there he was, across the room and tucked up in bed, one arm thrown behind his head, the other balancing a large hard-backed volume on his chest.
"I'm here to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity, sir," she called loudly to him
He startled and looked over, "Jeez, Lorelai, you surprised me."
"This offer is on a limited time basis only," she continued.
"O-okay," he sat up in wonder.
She threw down her purse and small bag then and crossed over to him, her eyes fixed on his face. She stopped a few feet away.
Luke looked up at her in confusion and took in her appearance: a long coat and high heels, an enigmatic smile on her face.
"Um, what exactly is the offer?" he asked.
"Well," she smiled at him, "It involves you and me..."
"So far so good..." he said.
"And a certain piece of very black and very lacy lingerie."
Luke swallowed, "Oh. Really?"
"Yes, in fact," she continued, "I am wearing said piece of lingerie under this coat right now. In fact," she leaned in conspiratorially, "that is all I am wearing under this coat right now."
Luke paused to take a breath, "Ummhmm. But this is a limited time offer?" he asked.
"Well, I'm hoping that the wearing of the lingerie can become something I offer to you on a pretty regular basis," she reflected.
Luke smiled at that and Lorelai noticed his color heighten. "So what is the 'limited time' part?" he inquired.
"Well, that clause pertains to a certain bonus I am offering with this lingerie tonight, and tonight only."
"Bonus?"
"Right. It's a bonus because I wouldn't want you to get to used to... receiving it," she chose her words carefully.
Luke furrowed his brows at that, "And what exactly is the bonus?"
"Well, it involves me standing before you in aforementioned very black and very lacy lingerie, while I look lovingly into your beautiful eyes and say, with meaning I might add, 'You were right' and 'I'm so sorry'."
"Wow! That is quite a deal!" he had to smile at that.
"I think so," she flirted.
"And what exactly do I have to do to receive this extraordinary deal?—with the added bonus, of course."
"Of course," she nodded. "That is up to you."
"Up to me?"
"Yes, once I have stood before you in this incredibly sexy lingerie and said 'You were right' and 'I'm sorry'..."
"Every man's fantasy, by the way," he noted.
She nodded again, "Well, after I've stood before you...that way... and said... those things... Well, what you do then is up to you."
"I see."
"So, are you interested?" she asked provocatively.
"Extremely," he admitted.
"Then I may proceed?"
"Please," Luke leaned back on his elbows and watched her.
She looked unflinchingly into his eyes then, as she unbuckled the belt of her trench coat. And her gaze did not waver as she slowly undid each of the buttons. And when she let the coat fall back and slip off her shoulders and on to the floor behind her, she flushed only a little as his eyes roamed her body and his breath caught again.
He looked back into her eyes then, "God, you're beautiful," he told her hoarsely.
"And, I am Very, Very Sorry and must tell you that You Were Most Certainly Right."
Damn.
She blinked and looked around. It seemed to be morning. She looked down. Still wearing yesterday's suit. The charm of that was decidedly lacking. But wait! What was that? She sniffed the air like a well-honed hound: Coffee! And not just any coffee—Luke's coffee! She untangled herself from the afghan and threw it back on the couch and stumbled into the kitchen.
She glanced about. The dishes from last night were clean and dry on the drainer. The coffee pot was full—she headed right over to it, filled a mug and sat down to gratefully gulp. That was when she noticed a note, weighted down at the corner by the vase of Babette's garden roses.
She picked it up to read:
Good Morning, Crazy Lady. I'm sorry I had to leave, I sure as hell didn't want to, but I had to open the diner this morning and start making meatloaf for seventy-five (Kirk wants to serve it after the funeral tomorrow.) Try to drop by today, if you can. The sooner the better, in fact.
Almost forgot---Rory called on your cell while you were asleep. She told me not to wake you, she'll call you again when she can.
Love—Luke.
P.S. Mine's on the sill over the front door.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::
Later that afternoon at The Dragonfly, Lorelai stood with furrowed brow before the industrial washing machine in the service pantry. She turned to Henry the housekeeper.
"The manual said how many towels at a time?" she asked again.
"I told you," he said impatiently, "You're supposed to be able to do a maximum load of twenty-five full-sized towels at a time."
"And how many did you put in?"
"Fifteen."
"On the maximum setting?"
"Yes, Lorelai. We've been over and over this," said Henry with no small amount of exasperation.
"Right. Okay, we're still under warranty, and we still have exactly one week until we open. Call the number and see what you can do. If they give you any flack, I'll try. Okay?" "I know I did it right," he told her.
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you did," she comforted, "We'll just take care of it. No big deal."
Just then her cell phone rang in her pocket. She walked out of the service pantry and into the back garden.
"Hello."
"Hey, Mom!"
"Hey, sweetie! How are you?! I miss you!"
"I miss you too," Rory told her.
"So are you still in Paris?" asked Lorelai as she sat down on the bench overlooking the vegetable garden.
"Yeah, we are. Listen, I just wanted you to know that I'm really sorry."
"Oh honey, we've been all through this... Everyone makes mistakes. God knows I have..."
"No, no, I'm not talking about that," said Rory definitively.
"Oh okay. You didn't go and sleep with any other old boyfriends, did you? Because that..."
"Mom!"
"Sorry, too soon for my wise but wicked wit?" laughed Lorelai.
"Much!" Rory assured her.
"Okay, sorry. Now what did you want to apologize for?"
"Grandma."
"Oh honey, I gave up looking for apologies for that woman the day she made me wear that Shirley Temple dress to the DAR picnic."
"No Mom, I'm sorry that she ripped into you the other night for my... behavior. She should not have done that. It was in no way your fault. You were right, I guess I shouldn't have talked to her about Dean after all. I mean at the time she seemed so..."
"Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up. She told you about what she said?"
"No, when I called last night I talked to Luke and he..."
"Wait a minute! Luke told you about Mom's carpet bombing?"
"Yeah, we had a good talk about it, he was so great. I mean we really talked. And I am so sorry. I was being selfish because I wanted to talk to someone and, boy, did I pick the wrong person in Grandma. If I'd known it would backfire against you..."
"Rory, slow down. What exactly did Luke tell you?"
"Well, he said that she really yelled at you and said you set a bad example and that..." Rory gulped a little here, "And that you were an awful mother... stuff like that," she sniffed.
"Oh Rory, he shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have told you."
"Why not? I'm glad he did. I don't need your protection on this, Mom. It's something I did. I should have to live with the fall-out, not you, even if it's from Grandma, and Grandpa too for that matter."
Lorelai could hear that Rory was crying now.
"No, Rory, no. This is old stuff between she and I that's rearing it's ugly head yet again. She will only ever see me in the context of my mistakes. I don't want her to see you that way too, kid," said Lorelai a little desperately.
"Well Mom, that's not how I see it, or want it. I need to have my own relationships on my own terms, even with your mother. I am going to confront her on this one," said Rory with a decided strength in her voice.
"Rory, no, please..." Lorelai was getting tearful now too.
"I'm sorry, Mom. You know I love you more than anything, but that's my decision and you're just going to have to respect it. Now I've gotta go. I will talk to you later. I love you! 'Bye."
"Rory?" Lorelai heard the line click off, "'bye," she added morosely.
Lorelai sat for just a moment then but it was long enough for her to get good and pissed. She snapped her phone shut and marched back into the Inn.
"Michel?" she called as she hurried through to the Great Room. "What do you want?!" he called irritably from the computer at the front desk.
"I am going out!" she snapped as she grabbed her hand bag from the little office behind the desk.
"Well, such is the privilege of the manor-owning class," he groused. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The diner was bustling at lunchtime peak. Every table full, waiting at the counter. Lorelai scanned the crowd, trying to glimpse the tell-tale flannel.
"Lane! Lane!" she called instead when she caught her eye.
"Hey, Lorelai! Do you want to eat? It's crazy in here today..."
"No, no, where's Luke?"
"In the back—up to his ears in Kirk's meatloaf," Lane told her and then hurried off to make ice tea and coffee rounds.
Lorelai pushed through into the kitchen.
"Luke!" she yelled, eyes ablaze.
"Hold on a minute!" he called as he bent to retrieve an enormous meatloaf from the oven.
Lorelai crossed her arms and waited impatiently.
Luke carefully set the hot meatloaf on a counter, and picked up another right next to it and popped it in where it's counterpart had just been.
"Ceasar! This time do not serve the funeral meatloaf to the customers!" he yelled.
"Hey, they smell it! Lane tells them it's not Wednesday, they want it anyway—what am I gonna do?!" Ceasar yelled back as he flipped three burgers expertly on the grill.
"You're gonna tell them 'No Meatloaf today!' Got it?"
"Yeah sure, boss," grumbled Ceasar.
"I mean it, Ceasar. I do not want to be up all night making more of this stuff!" he turned to Lorelai then with a smile, "Sorry, it's crazy in here today. Are you hungry?"
"No, Luke, I'm not. I'm not hungry," said Lorelai petulantly.
"Okay," he looked at her. "Do you want to go upstairs for a few minutes?" he asked.
"I do," she said darkly and marched up the stairs.
Luke followed her.
Once they were in the apartment, Luke smiled at her again, "Having second thoughts now that we've 'spent the night' together?" he teased.
"You know very well that we only slept, and that you left before I was even awake," said Lorelai humorlessly.
"Are you angry that I left? Is that it?" asked Luke in confusion.
"No, Luke. I'm not angry that you left. I'm angry that you talked to Rory, damn it!"
Luke sighed and took off his hat and threw it on the table before he spoke, "Listen, Lorelai, you need to understand..."
"No, you need to understand!" barked Lorelai. "You don't do this! You don't go running interference between me and my family!"
"You didn't seem to mind when I hung up on Emily!" he snapped back.
"That was different, Luke, and you know it!"
"No, I don't know that, Lorelai..."
"You don't come between me and my kid, Luke, I mean it!" Lorelai gestured for emphasis here, "It was not your place to tell her what Emily said to me. You don't defend me to her. Have you got that? And now, based on your suggestion apparently, she's gonna talk to that woman again. Or, confront her, actually. Do you know what will happen then, Luke? She will end up on the end of Emily's finely sharpened, diamond-tipped, solid platinum, custom- made-by-Tiffanys rapier! My beautiful daughter will be skewered right through, Luke! And I can't do anything about it! Jeez, I don't know how I ever thought this would work between us. I mean if you don't get me and Rory after all these years, then you never will!" Lorelai crossed her arms over her chest again and glared at him.
Luke put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, glaring back.
They held a long quiet moment between them.
"Bullshit," he finally said.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Lorelai waspishly.
"This isn't gonna work, Lorelai." he told her quietly.
"I think that's what I just said," she agreed acidly.
"No, Lorelai, you don't get it: I didn't mean 'us'. I mean what you are doing now; it's not going to work."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"No, I don't suppose you do," he concurred. "Look, I will not be compartmentalized, Lorelai."
"What?"
"I'm in your life, Lorelai. That's it. Now us pursuing this—whatever it is... each other, I guess—that's one thing. But I have been around for years. I have watched Rory grow up and I consider her my friend. I love that kid, and you know it."
Lorelai looked down at that.
"I am entitled to talk to her, Lorelai. And required to tell her the truth. And if she asks me for advice, I will do my damndest to give her the best advice I can. The fact that I also love you cannot be kept separate from that. I've tried the compartmentalized life, with Nicole, and I only just recently figured out that I didn't even begin to feel for her what I feel for you. I'm not going to live that way again. Certainly not with you."
"Luke..."
"No, no you don't," he cut her off, "You're not going to say what you were just about to say, or make an excuse, or whatever. I told you this was about us coming together, handling things together. And this is one more thing we need to figure out. Rory is grown up, Lorelai. You need to try to see that in her. Yes, she's young. And made some mistakes. That's what being young and grown up at the same time is about. You've got to let her have that. Now I know you got the cold water of reality thrown in your face far too young, but you can't shield her from that now. That wouldn't be fair. You're too good a mother for that."
"Damn it, Luke!" said Lorelai, still looking down.
"And, just for the record, if Rory had been the one to call you an awful mother, I would have hung up on her too."
Lorelai looked up at that.
"Okay," he allowed, "I probably wouldn't have hung up on her, but I would have been pissed."
"Luke..." Lorelai tired again. She felt defeated and tired.
"Not now," he shook his head, "I'm going back to work. Think about what I said." and with that he grabbed his hat, turned and went back downstairs leaving Lorelai with only herself to sigh her frustration to.
So she left the diner quietly, and without looking back.
Once in her jeep and driving home, she began mumbling angrily to herself... "thinks he can tell me how to raise my kid, does he?....thinks he can just say 'bullshit' to me and get away with it? .... 'I won't be compartmentalized, Lorelai'... huh, I'll compartmentalize him! Big old grumpy, stupid-baseball-cap-wearing, coffee-hating, needing-a-shave-all-the- damn-time Diner-man! ... Gah!"
She'd stopped in her driveway and was pounding her hands on the steering wheel in frustration now.
When she'd finished her tantrum, she leaned forward and rested her forehead down on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Crap, I want to go back to bed, she thought.
And then a tap at her window startled her back to reality. She looked up and saw Dean. How could a day that started with in-home Luke's coffee turn out so badly?
She grabbed her bag and got out of the jeep.
"Dean," she greeted brusquely.
"Hey, Lorleai, are you okay?" he asked.
"No," she told him.
"Oh..."
"Nevermind, though. What do you want, Dean? And I warn you, my maturity level is not at the heavenly heights it was when last we met."
"Okay," he said with trepidation, "I just wanted to tell you a few things. You, oddly enough, are the only person in this town who hasn't been treating me like a pariah."
"Dean, I have screwed up colossally in my own life, so I know how that is. I even know what it means to be a pariah. I don't think you are bad person, it's not my job to judge you. Would I gleefully throttle you if I could? Yeah, probably. But I am not a Victorian who thinks this was a one-sided thing. I want to throttle Rory too, in a way."
"Lorelai..."
"God, how could you both have been so stupid?!" she yelled at him, her breaking point clearly reached.
"I don't know," he told her sincerely.
Lorelai looked at him a moment and nodded, then looked away.
"Sorry, Dean. This whole thing... It's just had a lot of repercussions..." She turned to him again. "But you know that better than anyone, I suppose."
He looked down at that.
"So what did you want to tell me?" she finally asked.
"I'm going back to Chicago for the rest of the summer. My uncle has a construction company and he'll give me a job. And then I'm going to look into maybe taking some classes at the University there in the fall. So, I came to say goodbye, really. Once I'm there, I'll write Rory."
"Okay," she said and wondered why she suddenly felt sad.
"Goodbye, Lorelai," he said with one last look before he turned to go.
She turned to walk up the path to her house now, her mind cluttered with the day when the next thing she knew, her feet had somehow gone out from under her and she'd landed on her ass, twisted onto her right thigh. She looked down at the rip in her stocking which ran from ankle to knee, and gave a cry of frustration and pain.
"Oh my God! Lorelai, honey! Are you all right?!"
Naturally her klutz-fest came with a witness.
"I'm fine, Babette!" she called to her neighbor who was standing on the next door porch watching her.
Babette hurried over, "Come on, doll!" she said. "Let me help you in the house... Oh, look at your beautiful stockings, they're spoiled now..." She put Lorelai's arm around her diminutive shoulders and helped her walk up the rest of the way to the porch, "Hey, Lorelai, I just saw Dean leave. Is everything okay? He didn't push you down, did he? 'Cause I'll call the cops on that no-good kid...."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::
It took an hour but Lorelai finally managed to reassure Babette and get her to leave with as little information as possible. She sighed and headed up to take a shower then. She ascended the stairs but stopped a moment on the landing, thinking. And when she'd made her decision, she turned and went back down to her desk at the foot of the stairs. After flipping through her leather-bound phone book, she found the phone number she required.. Now she only had to make herself lift the phone and make the call. After another reflective moment, she managed it.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::
That evening it was a subdued Lorelai who stood before her parent's front door. She realized with a pause that by now she had spent a larger portion of her life without a key to this door, than with one. With a sigh over that she leaned forward and rang the bell.
After the maid admitted her and had taken her jacket, she walked into the living room and saw her be-spectacled father seated and reading The Wall Street Journal. A large scotch in his hand.
He looked up at her over his glasses and she saw, with a heavy heart, that his eyes were red and the bags under them heavy.
"Lorelai!" he said in surprise, "What are you doing here?"
"It's Friday night, Dad, I came for dinner," she said and crossed to sit opposite him.
"Oh? I didn't expect... Well, fine, I guess there's no reason why we shouldn't..." he trailed off.
"Oh, there are a probably a million reasons why we shouldn't," she told him drolly, "but I thought we should anyway."
"Right," said Richard uncomfortably.
They looked at each other a moment then.
"Dad, I don't want this to be awkward, I mean any more than usual... if you'd rather I'd go," offered Lorelai.
"No, no, I'm....glad you're here, Lorelai," said Richard politely.
"Okay," said Lorelai doubtfully.
"Excuse me, Mr. Gilmore?" said the maid at the door.
"Yes, Inez?"
"Will there now be two for dinner?"
Richard looked over at his daughter, "Yes, Inez, two for dinner," he said definitively.
Once seated, Lorelai noticed that the dinner table was an uncharacteristically austere thing. Without flowers, or silver, or crystal embellishments—all the things that sang of Emily---it seemed only flat and empty.
"So, Dad, how are you doing?" she asked him over the cold soup. "Never better," Richard tried heartily, and drained his scotch. "I can have my drink at the table when your mother isn't here," he told her with a wink.
Lorelai nodded, "So we're not going to pretend that the separation didn't happen any more?" she asked.
"I don't really see the point," he responded. "Of course I didn't see the point in not telling you in the first place. Subterfuge is your's and Emily's bailiwick," he zinged at her.
"Yeah, you're always so up front and direct, Machiavelli," volleyed Lorelai.
Richard regarded her a moment, "Touche," he capitulated. "I have to say though, my machinations are limited to the business world only."
"Except when they spill over into the personal," was her retort.
"Lorelai, why don't we just admit that we're never going to see eye to eye on this," leveled Richard.
"Well, Dad, that's very cards-on-the-table of you," she responded. "I hope," she added slyly.
They looked at each other over that and then laughed.
"Sometimes you are indeed your father's daughter," smiled Richard Gilmore, the tension broken.
"Dad, you know that I broke up with Jason?" she asked.
"Yes, I did."
"I couldn't stay with him, with things as they are."
"Well, I appreciate that, Lorelai," he told her. "I hope it wasn't too...painful for you," he allowed.
"More for him, I'm afraid," she said ruefully.
Richard only nodded at that.
"We'll still have to agree to disagree about it all, if we are going to... co-exist," she said dejectedly.
"I'm sorry it has to be that way."
"Me too," she added sadly.
"But I have to admit that I prefer...co-existence... to the alternative," he commented.
"Me too," she repeated and looked him in the eye.
And then the second course arrived.
"Have you heard from Rory?" he asked over the salmon.
"Yes," said Lorelai cautiously. "Have you heard from Mom?"
"Other than a message left with my secretary that they arrived safely, no I haven't." he admitted.
Lorelai took in her father's haggard face, "They're at Aunt Hope's in Paris," she told him kindly.
He brightened at that a bit. "Oh, Hopie is a lot of fun. They'll have a good time there. Your mother always seems to want to go dancing whenever Hope is around," he reminisced fondly.
"Rory wanted me to be sure you were all right," Lorelai told him.
"Did she? She is a kind girl," he looked over at his grown daughter, "You've done a wonderful job with her, Lorelai. And I neglected to tell you the other night in the midst of the drama, that your Inn is very beautiful as well. I'm sure it will be a great success." Richard leaned in to take a large sip of his wine then to avoid eye contact.
Incredibly touched by this from her father, she blinked back tears. "Thank you, Dad. I'm proud of both."
"Understandably so," he nodded.
"Dad, do you think that you and Mom will be able to..." she tried.
"I don't really want to talk with you about that," said Richard, "It's hard to make a child understand what parents go through."
"Dad, I'm almost thirty-eight," she smiled at him.
"No, you're not," he dismissed her, and then, "Are you really?"
"Yes, Dad. I could show you my driver's license if you like."
"That won't be necessary, Lorelai, it just doesn't seem possible."
"Oh, it's possible," she assured him wryly, "as my medicine chest full of cosmetics can attest."
They ate in companionable silence for awhile then before the dessert course arrived.
Lorelai thought of something then, "Dad, when you and Mom were dating, how was it you knew? I mean really knew that she was the one for you?"
Richard reflected on the chandelier a moment at that.
"It was so long ago, Lorelai."
"I know, Dad. It's just... I have a reason for asking," she told him.
"Is this some sort of misguided attempt on your part to reunite your mother and I? Because I would think you would have done with that after your last catastrophic failure."
"No, Dad, it isn't really. Sad as I am about you and Mom, I am staying out of that now. My reasons for asking are... personal," she said and took a sip of her wine to avoid eye contact.
"Personal? I see. Well, let's see. The thing about your mother..." he began, "I mean other than her great beauty and wit, of course," he reflected, "was that she just seemed to fit along with me. Do you understand what I mean by that?" he asked her.
"Maybe," she allowed.
"Being young and in love is one thing. It's a wonderful thing, in fact," he continued, "But she... I don't know... I just wanted to be with her all the time, and tell her about my day. And she can cheer me up like no one else ever has. And when we are quiet together, well that is just how it should be," he concluded.
"Wait a minute, Dad, I'm confused. Are you talking about back then or now?"
Richard lifted his brows in confusion, "Well, then of course. That was what you asked about, am I correct?"
"Yes, Dad, it was." she nodded, seeing more in that than was said.
"Well now, did that help you any with your personal problem?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so."
"Well, good."
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At eleven fifteen later that evening she stood before the door, as ready as she'd ever be. She reached up then and ran her fingers over the sill until she found the key.
Before replacing it to it's hiding place, she unlocked the door.
Once inside, she took a moment to relock the door behind her, allow her eyes to adjust to the dark, and take a few deep breaths too. She climbed the stairs then and stood before the 'William's Hardware' windowed door. She could see that a single lamp was on within.
She breathed again, opened the door and stepped into the room, before she could chicken out.
She leaned against the inside of the closed door then and looked around for him.
And there he was, across the room and tucked up in bed, one arm thrown behind his head, the other balancing a large hard-backed volume on his chest.
"I'm here to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity, sir," she called loudly to him
He startled and looked over, "Jeez, Lorelai, you surprised me."
"This offer is on a limited time basis only," she continued.
"O-okay," he sat up in wonder.
She threw down her purse and small bag then and crossed over to him, her eyes fixed on his face. She stopped a few feet away.
Luke looked up at her in confusion and took in her appearance: a long coat and high heels, an enigmatic smile on her face.
"Um, what exactly is the offer?" he asked.
"Well," she smiled at him, "It involves you and me..."
"So far so good..." he said.
"And a certain piece of very black and very lacy lingerie."
Luke swallowed, "Oh. Really?"
"Yes, in fact," she continued, "I am wearing said piece of lingerie under this coat right now. In fact," she leaned in conspiratorially, "that is all I am wearing under this coat right now."
Luke paused to take a breath, "Ummhmm. But this is a limited time offer?" he asked.
"Well, I'm hoping that the wearing of the lingerie can become something I offer to you on a pretty regular basis," she reflected.
Luke smiled at that and Lorelai noticed his color heighten. "So what is the 'limited time' part?" he inquired.
"Well, that clause pertains to a certain bonus I am offering with this lingerie tonight, and tonight only."
"Bonus?"
"Right. It's a bonus because I wouldn't want you to get to used to... receiving it," she chose her words carefully.
Luke furrowed his brows at that, "And what exactly is the bonus?"
"Well, it involves me standing before you in aforementioned very black and very lacy lingerie, while I look lovingly into your beautiful eyes and say, with meaning I might add, 'You were right' and 'I'm so sorry'."
"Wow! That is quite a deal!" he had to smile at that.
"I think so," she flirted.
"And what exactly do I have to do to receive this extraordinary deal?—with the added bonus, of course."
"Of course," she nodded. "That is up to you."
"Up to me?"
"Yes, once I have stood before you in this incredibly sexy lingerie and said 'You were right' and 'I'm sorry'..."
"Every man's fantasy, by the way," he noted.
She nodded again, "Well, after I've stood before you...that way... and said... those things... Well, what you do then is up to you."
"I see."
"So, are you interested?" she asked provocatively.
"Extremely," he admitted.
"Then I may proceed?"
"Please," Luke leaned back on his elbows and watched her.
She looked unflinchingly into his eyes then, as she unbuckled the belt of her trench coat. And her gaze did not waver as she slowly undid each of the buttons. And when she let the coat fall back and slip off her shoulders and on to the floor behind her, she flushed only a little as his eyes roamed her body and his breath caught again.
He looked back into her eyes then, "God, you're beautiful," he told her hoarsely.
"And, I am Very, Very Sorry and must tell you that You Were Most Certainly Right."