Monday

There were several things Lorelai was not looking forward to: discussing the European vacation (an unfortunately un-National Lampoon one) with Emily, spending time with Rory while simultaneously hating that she was leaving and pretending to be excited, running into Dean as she so certainly would at the inn, and greeting Luke in front of the entirety of Stars Hollow. And all this on an empty stomach and only the vestiges of last night's caffeine running through her system. She took a deep breath before she opened the door to the diner and headed to the counter.

Luke was waiting on Kirk at his usual table, repeatedly asking Kirk to shut up. Lorelai leaned forward on the counter, her chin in her hand, surreptitiously watching him from the corner of his eye.

"Kirk, it's no big deal."

"I can name my first-born after you," Kirk said.

"No, Kirk."

"A dog," he said.

"No, Kirk."

"I'll work at the diner free of charge one day a week for the rest of my life."

"Most definitely: 'no, Kirk.'"

"There must be something I can do to show my appreciation," Kirk said.

"You can shut up about showing your appreciation, stop running around naked, and never mention the entire incident to me. Ever," Luke said.

Kirk opened his mouth to speak and shut it again immediately, winking and nodding in agreement. Luke sighed and turned back towards the counter. Seeing Lorelai, his expression lifted. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Coffee?"

"And how," she said. "To go. And any food-shaped things that will travel well. I'm starving."

"I'm shocked. Big day planned?"

Lorelai nodded, sipping the coffee he'd already poured in a massive mug for her. "Sookie, Michel, and I are going to go over those comment cards, and I have to take Rory into Hartford this afternoon to buy some luggage, after which I have to go to my parents' house to show the luggage to my mother and get her stamp of approval, which means probably a return trip to the mall to return said luggage and buy new luggage. Lather, rinse, repeat," she said.

"What do you have to buy luggage for?"

She stared into her coffee cup as she spoke. "Rory's going to Europe with my mother for six weeks."

Luke stopped cold. "What?"

She raised her eyes to meet his. "She leaves Friday."

"This Friday?"

"Yeah," Lorelai sighed.

"Is she okay?" Luke asked.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "No, Luke, she's got the galloping consumption and she's heading to Europe with my mother to take the healing waters."

"Is she or is she not okay?"

"If she wasn't okay, I wouldn't be letting her go on this trip," Lorelai said. "She just needs some distance from this town, I guess. I don't know, Luke. I don't know."

"You want to talk?"

She gave him a watery, thankful smile. "I really do. I can't just yet, though. And this week…"

"Is going to be hell on wheels for you. I get it. You want to cancel… that thing," he said, darting his eyes around.

"Not cancel. Postpone. Rory and my mom leave for New York at three on Friday, and Emily won't let me go to the airport with them. Which, though I hate to say it, is probably a good idea. So, I'm going to be home all alone," she said, spinning her cup. "Alllll alone. Alone, alone, alone. Sad Lorelai, all alone."

Luke struggled to maintain a straight face. "Would you like some company?"

Lorelai tilted one shoulder towards him and rested her chin there, looking at him sidelong. "Why, Luke, how lovely of you to offer." She held his gaze for a minute before she slumped, leaning to rest her chin on the rim of her cup. "I'm going to need you," she said quietly.

"I'll be there," he said. "In the meantime, you call me."

"Thank you."

She finished her coffee as he bustled around the diner, behind the counter, helping people, bagging food for her. She watched him as he moved around, watching her as she watched him. Though the soft fluttering behind her ribcage was no longer accompanied by the nervous quaking and breathing seemed much easier, it persisted. As she swallowed the dregs in her cup, she closed her eyes and hoped it would stick around as long as possible; she'd even be okay with its permanent presence.

Lorelai was fishing for money at the bottom of her handbag when the bell over the door rang. Luke was back behind the counter, trying to stop her from paying.

"Your money's no good here," he said.

"Luke," she said.

"Lorelai," he replied.

She laughed. "Well, if you're going to insist."

"I am."

Someone cleared his throat just behind her, and Lorelai stepped away from the counter. "I won't keep you," she said.

The person behind her spoke: "oh, don't worry about it."

Luke saw the color drain from Lorelai's face as he handed her a paper bag full of muffins and donuts. He studied her as she turned away from the counter. Dean stood beside her, slouching in his work clothes.

"Hey, Lorelai," Dean said.

Lorelai tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at her feet, shifting uncomfortably. "Dean," she said.

"How's things?" he asked.

"Fine." She raised her eyes, her face set in hard lines. "You?"

Luke watched Dean shrug and seem to shrink slightly where he stood. Tall as he was, he seemed dwarfed beside Lorelai, her chin tilted up in anger, almost defiantly. After a moment of this silent, one-sided warfare, Lorelai turned her face away, shaking her head, her lips pursed together in what Luke recognized as a "of all the fucking nerve" expression.

She reached out and took the bag from Luke's extended hand. "Bye, Dean," she said disdainfully. "Nice seeing you." She looked at Luke but was unable to meet his eyes. "Thanks," she said. "I'll see you."

Lorelai turned on her heel and walked out of the diner, clutching the take-out bag with both hands. Luke gave Dean one long, hard look before he stepped out from behind the counter and headed for the door.

"Luke," Dean began, but stopped when Luke put his hand up.

"Don't," he said, his voice low. "I don't know anything, but I don't have anything to say to you, either. Lane!" he bellowed.

Lane popped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "What's up?"

"I've got to step out for a minute. You're in charge," he said, pointing at her.

He ran out onto the sidewalk and jogged in the direction of the Dragonfly, catching up to Lorelai in a matter of moments. She walked at a brisk clip, muttering to herself. He refrained from reaching out to her, grabbing her arm, drawing her to him, as they were still in town and all of those things would seem decidedly out of the ordinary. Instead, he simply called her name.

She stopped, turned. "I can't talk about this with you right now," she said.

"What did he do?" Luke asked. "I'll take him out, I swear. Just give me the word."

Lorelai lowered her head and considered her shoes for a moment. "Luke," she said, her voice low. "There's nothing you can do—there's nothing either one of us can do. But please," she said, and when she looked up there were tears in her eyes, "leave it be. What I did back there, how I reacted, that was fucking stupid. If anyone figures out—"

She stopped, bit her lip. Luke's hands balled into fists and he felt his throat constrict. Secrecy be damned, he would have put his arms around her right there had she not stepped back, taking a deep breath to calm herself. When she met his eye again, he saw that steeliness that made her a good manager and a strong woman and above all, a fierce mother.

"I want to help," he said.

"I know. And you do, just by wanting to. I'll explain everything, soon."

He nodded. "Okay. Well, then. I'll see you."

Lorelai smiled ruefully. "Probably sooner than you'll want to."

"No such time."

"Right back at you," she said, giving him what she hoped was a significant look before she turned and walked away.

Lorelai, Sookie, and Michel devised a system for the comment cards to make them as helpful as possible. They read each one individually and put them in categories: "too nice to be sincere out of fear of hurting feelings," "sincere but stupid," "sincere and complimentary," "critical, yet both sincere and helpful," "critical but stupid," and "Taylor."

They crafted a list of issues they needed to address from these piles and gathered the staff to pass along compliments and discuss the ways in which to prevent the problems that came up in the "critical, sincere, and helpful" cards. Each then went to his or her separate work—Michel to man the phones and belittle the staff, Sookie to the kitchen, and Lorelai to her back office to call most of the kitchen staff and cajole them back to work. As she made her calls, with her best wheedling voice, she experienced a return of that warm buzz she always got from working her managerial magic, a feeling she had not had too much of since the Independence burned down. She was able to forget what she felt was her moment of crushing stupidity at the diner and work with a clear head. When the last phone call was complete, she sat back in her chair and treated herself to a cup of coffee and one of Sookie's cookies.

She thought about her encounter with Dean in the diner and felt hypocritical and small. Dean was an asshat and a bastard and a lot of other things, but he wasn't the only villain in the piece. She didn't feel vindicated or satisfied for treating him so coldly, but she was sure she couldn't bring herself to treat him otherwise or in any way that would make her feel better. She reprimanded herself that it didn't matter how she felt, what mattered was Rory, her kid—and, if she conceded just the tiniest bit, Lindsay, who she hadn't had the guts to consider while she concentrated on consoling Rory and mending her family. If she hadn't been so pissed at herself, she would have let Luke take care of her. She hated the taste of the words in her mouth when she told him there was nothing they could do, either of them. She had wanted nothing more than to let him put his arms around her and to cry on his shoulder out of sheer frustration and helplessness. But she didn't deserve that kind of comfort.

Lorelai sighed and pushed herself away from her desk. "Oy, with the melodrama already," she said softly to herself.

She wandered to the kitchen. "Something," she said, "smells heavenly."

"Remember that peach sauce, with the maple syrup?" Sookie said. "Try this. You're gonna plotz." She shoved the spoon in Lorelai's mouth.

Lorelai put her hand under her chin and slurped. "Oh, my God. So that's what plotzing feels like," she said. "Divine. Have you made that before?"

Sookie waved her hand dismissively. "A million years ago at the Independence. Thought I'd revisit it."

"Well, I have good news: I got back four of our kitchen staff, which brings us back to the magic number of—"

"Five!" Sookie cried, clapping her hands with excitement. "You are a genius!"

Lorelai grinned. "Well, I did have to promise them that Michel would not be allowed in the kitchen, nor would he be allowed to talk to them. Ever."

"Would that we were all so lucky," Sookie said. "You off?"

She sighed. "To face the beast. Emily, not Rory."

"I can't believe she's going away for six whole weeks. She's going to miss the opening!"

"Well, you know Emily. Once she makes up her mind…" Lorelai let her voice trail off. "I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

Sookie patted her friend's arm. "Lorelai, you made it a whole school year without her. Six weeks is nothing."

"I know. It's just that New Haven isn't Rome, you know?"

"Be fun if it were," Sookie said, and began to giggle. "Rome, Connecticut," she said.

"Bye, Sookie," Lorelai said, laughing.

She found Rory at the computer, researching luggage, when she got home. "I think I found the best deal and something Grandma will approve of," Rory told her. "It's department store, so it's sure to go over gangbusters."

"Gangbusters?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Don't you start," she said.

Lorelai leaned against the wall and looked at her daughter. "You look better today."

"Keeping busy helps."

"I saw Dean this morning," she said, and immediately regretted it. Rory's face fell: Lorelai was ashamed to think Rory resembled a wet paper bag.

"And?"

Lorelai decided honesty was best, and said, "he looked like shit."

Rory appeared to consider this. At length, she could only say, "Oh."

"Babe? What were you'd hoping I'd say?"

"I don't know." She paused. "I guess it's good that he looks like shit, because that means he probably feels like shit. But do I want him to feel like shit because he's leaving Lindsay, or because he slept with me and he plans on never speaking to me again?"

Lorelai put her arm around her daughter and walked her to the kitchen. "Can't answer that one for you, hon."

"What do you think?" Rory asked, and cringed. "Don't answer that."

"I had no intention."

"Where did you see him?"

"Luke's."

A sly grin overspread Rory's face. "Ah, Luke's," she said. "And how was it seeing the man Himself?"

She tried not to smile and failed as she reached for the Pop Tarts. "It was nice. It was completely like every other morning I've ever gone into Luke's, but different."

"Articulate."

Lorelai handed her the extra Pop Tart. "Oh, shut up. Like you're Wendy Wasserstein." Around a mouthful of pastry, she said, "come on. Hartford and judgment awaits."

Miraculously, Emily approved not only of the luggage, but also the spring coat, the three pairs of shoes, and the two skirts Lorelai insisted Rory have for the trip.

"You did charge it all to our account, yes?" Emily asked.

"Of course," Lorelai said. "But Mom, I can help pay for this stuff."

Emily held up her hand. "Nonsense, Lorelai; you've got other financial concerns right now, and we're happy to take care of these things for our granddaughter. She can make good use of them at Yale, as well."

"True enough," Rory said. "Those boots are amazing."

"Rory," Emily said, "would you give me and your mother a moment alone?" She watched Rory out of the room and turned to her daughter. "Lorelai, I need to know why this trip is so suddenly a necessity for Rory."

Lorelai crossed her arms over her chest. "That's something you'll have to bring up with Rory," she said.

"I'm bringing it up with you," Emily returned. "Lorelai, there's a reason that this trip is suddenly the most important thing in the world. Not that I'm protesting, mind you, as I am looking forward to my time with her enormously, and I myself could use a—a break from certain things—"

"Mom," Lorelai began.

"—but if there's something I need to know, I'd like to know now and not in Paris when it's too late. I might say something inappropriate or hurtful and not be aware of it."

"Imagine that," Lorelai said.

"Lorelai," Emily said, her voice a warning.

Lorelai looked around the room, marveling. "Man, people have been saying my name a lot lately." She lowered herself to the sofa and rested her elbows on her knees. "Rory has been going through some personal things, and it's been a very unsettling year for her."

"How so?"

"I'll only tell you what I think Rory will be comfortable with, Mom, and I won't keep that from her."

"As you wish."

She gave a harsh laugh. "Right. Oh, where to begin? Well, you remember Jess?"

"The cell-phone hater."

"That guy. He's been popping in and out of Rory's life all year, sending mixed messages, confusing her. He shows up, tells her he loves her, and then gets in a car and drives away," Lorelai said, feeling the familiar Jess-anger rising like bile in her throat. "Shit head." She bit her lip: "Sorry. So there's that, and then there's Dean—"

"The first boyfriend."

"Very good, Mom."

"I pay attention," Emily said.

"Don't I know it. Dean got married to someone Rory went to high school with, and he's been unhappy, dropped out of school, and Rory's been very invested in that. She hasn't had successful relationships at school, and I think Yale was a little more than she was prepared for, emotionally. It's been a year of upheaval for her, Mom, and I think she just feels it's important to get away and sort herself out." She stopped and took a breath. "Didn't you ever feel like that?"

Emily sat beside Lorelai. She suddenly seemed more weary than Lorelai had ever seen her. "Sometimes, I still do," she said. "Lorelai, I do apologize for taking my frustration with my father out on you the other night."

Lorelai sat up straight. "Wait, is it cold in here? I think hell just suddenly froze over."

Her mother rose immediately. "You never make anything easy for a person, do you, Lorelai?"

At this, Lorelai softened. "I'm sorry, Mom. Please, go on."

"Thank you." Emily began to pace. "I realize that you had the best intentions and that you weren't trying to antagonize us; this separation is very hard for everyone, I know. I think the best thing for your father and I is just to take some time apart."

"Mom, if this is because of Floyd's lawsuit and Jason—"

"Oh, Lorelai, your father and I have been married for forty years. A tiny thing like that is not going to be the only thing to cause a rift like this. Though I wasn't pleased at your relationship with Jason or your apparent need to keep it a secret, I certainly don't blame you for what your father and I are going through at the moment."

"I'm sure I don't help that much," Lorelai said.

"No, you don't, but you really shouldn't blame yourself."

"Thank you, Mom. And you know, Jason wasn't staying at the inn that night. We broke up. I couldn't be with him after he brought that lawsuit against Dad. And I regret that conversation with Dad—I think I understand why he did it."

"Do you? Enlighten me."

"Floyd put him in a position where he didn't have any other option—either stay with Jason and lose everything or come back to the fold with his tail between his legs and keep what he's worked so hard for all these years. It's a shitty choice to have to make, and Floyd and Jason both suck for getting Dad into a situation where he'd have to decide one way or the other." She paused. "Going the other way would have been the bigger thing to do, but Dad's never been about doing the bigger thing. He's told me sometimes you have to sacrifice what you want for what you need to do. I hate that—I've never been good at doing that. I don't see the need—" Again, she paused, visibly collecting her thoughts, trying to reign in her emotions. "I reacted badly. It was a gut reaction. If my parents were doing it, it must be wrong." She put her hand to her forehead. "Moronic, after all the stuff that's happened with us over the past few years, I know. Dad was protecting his family like he always does."

"That doesn't make any of this right," Emily said.

"No," Lorelai replied, her voice sad, "but he is what he is, Mom. So am I. And so is Rory, and so are you." She looked at her mother imploringly. "Mom, I don't want you or Rory to go away just to avoid things. I need you—I need you to take care of each other. You can't let things get so bad that you have to get away from them to figure them out."

Emily let out a derisive laugh. "That's really rich, considering the source," she said.

"Well, then," Lorelai said, feeling chastened. "Consider me an authority who knows of what she speaks. Really, Mom. At least take care of Rory. She's in a rough spot, emotionally."

"You needn't worry about Rory while she's with me," Emily said.

"I know. And now I've said my piece. We should get going; there's a lot to do this week." She called for Rory and they said their goodbyes.

Emily called for her girls to stop at the door. "Thank you, Lorelai. I'll think about what you said. Rory, I'll see you for some more shopping tomorrow, yes?"

"Yes, Grandma. Thank you so much for everything."

Emily walked to them, her arms open. She kissed Rory and held her tightly. "You don't ever have to thank me for anything," she said. One arm around Rory, she held out her hand and touched Lorelai's face. "I'll see you Friday."

Lorelai felt a lump in her throat. She didn't often see her mother this emotional. "See you, Mom. Come on, Rory. Let's get home."

In the car, Rory asked what the exchange at the door was all about. "What was Grandma thanking you for?"

Lorelai reached out and put her hand on the crown of Rory's head. "We were… sorting some things out. She wanted to know why you were suddenly going with her."

"What did you tell her?"

Lorelai recapped the Rory-related parts of the conversation. "Don't either of you spend too much time alone," she said. "Or together, depending on the situation."

Rory snorted. "That clears everything right up," she said. "Hey, can we go to Luke's for dinner?"

Lorelai turned her head sharply. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." They were silent a while. "Do you think anyone knows?"

"I don't think so, babe."

"What about Luke?" Lorelai wriggled uncomfortably in her seat. "Mom?"

"I think he may have figured it out, by my reaction to Dean." She recapped the conversation. "I didn't think, hon. I'm sorry."

She heaved a great sigh. "That's enough for people to catch on, I think. It's okay. You're my mom, you're allowed to have a reaction."

"Why, thank you, sweetie. That's very giving of you."

"Just drive, Jeeves."

"Whatever you say, lady."

"I like that sound of that," Rory said.

"Oh, Rory, babe, I'm going to miss you."

"Don't worry, you'll be well taken care of while I'm gone."

"How so?"

The bemused smile Rory had adopted in regards to her mother's new romantic situation appeared again. "With me gone, and you all alone, you'll have plenty of excuses to hang out at the diner and for Luke to keep you from overdosing on the Ben and Jerry's."

"I might do that even with Luke around," Lorelai said. "And I've got to say, your obsession with this Luke thing is starting to get unhealthy."

Rory laughed. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with this."

"Sadist."

"I am my mother's daughter," Rory replied.

Lorelai touched Rory's cheek. "You are that," she said. "No doubt about it."