Past Indiscretions

Lorelai had gone straight to the Dragonfly from home that morning, having had her fix of Luke's coffee—and Luke himself—in her own kitchen before she left. Luke had walked back to town before she woke. They had been lucky: the one night he'd left his truck parked out front all night, Babette had been in Boston with Morey for a gig and mornings like this he'd been able to get away unnoticed. After Lane's sudden appearance during their canoodling the night before, they'd briefly discussed the ramifications of publicizing their relationship.

"I don't really give a shit who knows," Luke had said, "I just don't want people pinching my cheeks and stuff. Patty even touches me once—"

"You'll take it with a grimace, just like you always do," Lorelai said. "But people aren't just going to know, this being Stars Hollow and all—people are going to talk."

"Like I said, I don't really give a shit. As long as I don't have to listen," he added. "Ah, crap," he said, realizing the likelihood of this.

"I willingly accept any advance apology you'd like to offer for grumpiness, crankiness, moodiness, and general cantankerousness in the near future," she told him.

"That's very gracious of you."

"I know," she said.

By noon, she had a tension headache and a slight twinge in the back of her neck. The Inn was still full of fractious elderly people who demanded attention left and right, who, when left to their own amusement, would attempt to peek in doors labeled "Employees Only," and who had taken a particular shine to Lorelai and asked for a tour of the town in the afternoon, Lorelai acting as tour guide. She could think of thirty thousand other things she'd rather do than traipse around Stars Hollow in her new pink suede pumps with a bunch of gum-smacking fogies and in a moment of desperation, called Taylor.

"Taylor, no one knows this town better than you do," she said. "You could practically write the textbook on Stars Hollow. It would mean so much to them. And you'd be compensated for your time, obviously."

"Compensated in what way, Lorelai? Assuming I agree to do this," he added, "which is a very large assumption. I have two businesses to run and a town meeting to plan for this evening, and I am currently the chair of several, make that many committees—"

"Taylor, on any other day, I would never, ever say these words to you, but I'm saying them now—anything you want, you can have it," Lorelai said. "Just please, take these people and show them around."

She could practically hear the wheels turning. "All right, Lorelai. If you can convince Luke to advertise for my shoppe's Start of Summer Blow Out Extravaganza in the diner for at least the next two weeks, I will take your guests on a detailed guided tour of Stars Hollow."

Lorelai furrowed her brow and stuttered a moment. "Taylor, what makes you think I can do that? I mean, I'm multi-talented, this is true, but I'm hardly capable of achieving the impossible, which is basically what you're asking."

"Oh, Lorelai, I'm sure you have your ways," he said in what she was horrified to find a knowing tone.

"I'll call you back," she said, and hanging up, immediately hit the speed dial.

Luke answered on the first ring.

"Okay, something screwy is going on here," she said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Taylor seems to think I can convince you to advertise something for his store in the diner. He says I have ways," she said. "He can't know. I mean, it's not possible."

"Hang on." She heard muffled noises and shuffling and an exasperated quit it, Kirk before the line went clear again. "People have been looking at me all day," he said.

"That's 'cause you're so pretty," she told him.

"No, I mean, people have been looking at me, like looking funny. And whispering. I think they know," he said.

"How can they know?" Lorelai demanded, already on her way to the kitchen. "You hang on," she said, pressing the phone to her chest. She pulled Sookie aside. "Please, tell me you did not tell Jackson about me and Luke. Or tell me that if you told Jackson about me and Luke, that you either did a special forgetting spell on Jackson so that he wouldn't be able to tell people about me and Luke because he couldn't remember you telling him about me and Luke, or you promised him to such total secrecy that were he to tell someone, all of his plants would wither up and grow hair," she said.

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard," Sookie said. "Hairy vegetables." She shuddered. "Although, carrots, right?"

"Sookie!"

She spread her hands. "I didn't tell! I swear! I really, really want to tell, but I know how important this is to you, so I didn't tell him." She paused. "I told Davey, but I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't tell."

"You didn't tell Davey anywhere where there was a baby monitor that Jackson could hear, did you?"

"Jackson wasn't even in the house—he was outside in the strawberry patch. I swear, Lorelai," Sookie said.

Lorelai held out the phone. "Swear to Luke."

Sookie leaned towards the phone, and in a loud voice, said, "I swear, Luke, I didn't tell Jackson."

When Lorelai put the phone back to her ear, Luke was muttering about blown eardrums. "So, there's that," she said. "How else?"

"Lane?"

"Oh, she wouldn't," Lorelai breathed.

"You sure?"

"What, after all the hush money you offered? Never," she said. "Besides, Lane's not the type to go spreading secrets. You know that."

"I do," he said.

They were silent a moment. Simultaneously, they drew a breath. "Kirk," they said.

"Kirk," Lorelai groaned.

"Kirk. I'm gonna—"

"Say nothing," she pleaded. "Pretend like you don't think they know, okay? We can still maintain our dignity," she said. "Unless you give in and let Taylor advertise his sale in the diner so that all the old people will follow him around instead of me."

"What?"

She explained. "Please, Luke? I'm begging you. Please, please, please," she said, "you have no idea what it's like up here. I feel like I'm in Cocoon and they want me to join them. Or like I'm a particularly delicious-looking bowl of Cream of Wheat. Please?"

Luke heaved an agitated sigh. "One sign," he said. "One. Placed at my discretion."

"If you were here, I'd stick my tongue down your throat in thanks and gratitude," Lorelai said. "You have no idea what you've done."

"I think you're probably right about that," he said.

She took the needed respite from the guests to spend time in the back office, crunching numbers. The inn was beautiful, people were staying, Sookie was cooking, Michel was standing behind his desk, but the work wasn't done yet. Lorelai sighed. There were so many things to consider before they could say they had broken even. They had a mortgage, a bank loan, a staff to pay, the upkeep of the Inn, plus Luke's loan… She put a hand to her forehead. She wanted to sink into bed, alone, for a few hours, to wrap herself in cool sheets and sleep dreamlessly a while. She needed time to gather herself together. She was happy, she knew she was happy, and she was more than glad she was happy. She was, however, vaguely aware that being happy had narrowed her view a bit, obscured the things on the edges that needed to be thought over as well. Dear Rory, she thought, can happiness be self-destructive?

Taylor had led her senior citizens on their tour at three o'clock. They hadn't returned by five-thirty, when Lorelai locked up her office and set out for the diner. As she made her way up Main Street, she suddenly knew what Luke was talking about. People were looking at her, and not just looking at her, she thought, but looking-looking at her. She was grateful for the ring tone sounding in her purse. She snapped the cell open without checking the caller ID.

"Lorelai, this is your father," he said, and she smothered a smile. She could be in a hole in the ground and hear that voice from a distance of fifty feet and still know it was him, but he insisted on identifying himself this way every time he called.

"Hi, Dad. How are you doing?" she asked, slowing her steps. She admired her new shoes, a self-congratulatory indulgence for the opening of the inn.

"Oh, getting along, I suppose," he replied. "I was wondering if you were free for dinner this evening."

"Tonight? Oh, Dad, I actually—well, I don't have plans, really, but there's a town meeting in about an hour that I need to go to. The mayor has some guy lined up to give a talk to local business owners, and I need to be there," she said.

"Oh, well. You are having dinner, I presume, in spite of this meeting?" Rihard asked.

"Yeah, I'm actually on my way to Luke's." She looked up at the sign over the diner and dawdled, toeing the sidewalk. "Why?"

"It's just that I'm passing through your area just at this moment and I thought perhaps we could join each other for dinner. I could come to this Luke's. I certainly have no plans and if you have no plans—"

"No, Dad, I don't have plans, but are you sure? I mean, it's nothing fancy, it's just a diner. Good food, and everything, but not gourmet cuisine," she said. The day was turning increasingly bizarre.

"Well, that sounds just fine to me. I could do with some good, plain food, myself. Whereabouts is this diner?" he asked.

Lorelai gave him directions and then entered the diner. She seated herself and waited, wondering. When Luke appeared with the coffee pot, she looked up.

"Did my dad seem healthy to you the last time you saw him?" she asked.

"Healthy? How do you mean?"

"I mean, did he seem like he was dying?"

"Lorelai, I don't have the first idea—"

"It's just that he asked me to have dinner with him tonight, and then he agreed to do it here. I can only assume that the man's dying, if he's asking me to spend time with him on purpose and agreeing to do it on my own turf—"

"This is my turf," Luke said.

"Whatever, Bernardo," Lorelai said. "It's just weird." She put her face in her hands. "God. I just want the world to stop for just one second so I can breathe. All day, it's been one thing after another, you know?"

He eyed the soda shoppe next door. "Believe me, I know."

"I so appreciate what you did for me, by the way. I can't tell you," she said.

"Not a big deal. What'll you have?"

"Burger. Fries. Nothing fancy," she said.

"You sure about that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't do that—don't pull the healthy thing on me. Burger. Fries. That's what I want," she said. "Okay?"

"Whatever you say," he grumbled.

"Oh, I like that," Lorelai said. She looked past Luke and saw her father standing uncertainly in the doorway. She rose and waved him over. "Dad, hi. Come sit. You're just in time to order."

Luke and Richard shook hands. "Sir," Luke said, by way of greeting.

"Please, call me Richard."

Luke swallowed and gestured for the older man to sit. "What can I get you, sir?"

"What is my daughter having this evening?"

"Burger. Fries. Nothing fancy," Luke said, eyeing Lorelai darkly. She smirked.

"Well, that sounds just fine. I'll have the same."

Luke turned for the kitchen and Lorelai sat with her father, tapping her fingers nervously against the tabletop. "So, Dad," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm just fine, thank you. Why do you ask?"

She tugged the ends of her hair, pulling until her eyes smarted. "No reason. So. What's new with you?"

"Business is the same as always," he said. "And yourself? How are things at the Inn?"

Lorelai shook her head. "Crazy weird right now, actually. Lots of old—senior citizens," she said, correcting herself. "They keep me busy." She paused. "Dad, I don't know how to say this without being rude or hurting your feelings—" she began.

He leaned back in his chair. "And so it begins," he said.

"I'm just—I'm wondering what's with the sudden olive branch. You and I have never been especially forthcoming with each other, if we're honest about things, but I know how you feel about the way that I've gone about things in the past and just recently with Jason and everything, and I know what you think about that relationship and how it was handled. What I don't know is what's changed, why you're out here, why you wanted to have dinner. I know you're lonely, and I'm sorry that you and Mom are separated, but I just—why am I the one you want to spend your time with?" she asked.

Richard smoothed the front of his shirt with the palms of his hands. Lorelai could see the thoughts being gathered and lined up in the appropriate order. "It must be said that you're right about many things, Lorelai. I do not know that reparations can ever be made for certain things, and I know that you and I will most likely never see eye to eye when it comes to things best left in the past."

"Or eye to navel," Lorelai said.

"However, that said, there are certain other past events, that, when considered with rational distance, must be reevaluated and properly weighed," he continued, as though she had not spoken. "Events that, when put in the appropriate context—"

"Dad," Lorelai said. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

Richard sighed. "It was wrong of you to conceal your relationship with Jason, Lorelai. And I certainly did not appreciate you coming into my house and asking me to reconsider my association with Floyd in light of your situation with him. However, I do not think that either of us acted well in that matter, Lorelai."

Lorelai bit her lip. "No, Dad, I can't say that we did."

"Your mother has left me, Lorelai."

"I know, Dad," she said gently. "I'm very sorry."

"There are many reasons for this, of course. This was not the easiest of years for us. However, I have come to see that my treatment of you during the business debacle with Floyd and Jason was perhaps that which most offended her." Richard pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "It is not my idea of an enjoyable time to discuss such things."

"Could have had me fooled, Mr. Hope," Lorelai said. She caught his eye. "Sorry," she said.

"I have rebuked you, and harshly, too, for running away from us after Rory's birth. I have told you that we did nothing to deserve such treatment, and that the distance you put between yourself and your parents during Rory's childhood was equally cruel. While I don't dispute that you have done well for yourself or that Rory is an exceptional, remarkable human being, I still maintain that those things are true. I say this," he said, putting up a hand as the color rose in Lorelai's cheeks, "as a preface, Lorelai. Please remain calm." He sighed. "I was prepared to force that distance again by going back into business with Floyd. It was within my power to prevent it, and I did nothing. You came to me and asked me for lenience, and I showed none for you. It was unforgiving of me, Lorelai. I did something that could potentially displace someone you cared for from your life with very little regard as to how it would affect you. I did it to protect what was mine."

Luke arrived and placed their orders in front of them. He refilled Lorelai's coffee cup and turned without speaking, for which Lorelai was grateful. The very air between herself and her father seemed laden with something—it was not quite clarity, nor was it forgiveness. She absently stirred sugar into her coffee and her father picked up his burger.

Richard looked at his daughter. "I do not see that you and I are so entirely different," he said. "But I should have known better." He was quiet several moments. Lorelai was unsure what to say, and she picked at her food, waiting for him to speak again. "That was what drove your mother out, after all these years."

"So, what are you doing here, then, Dad? Clearly, you still have issues with me. Clearly, you don't approve—"

"Lorelai, it has nothing to do with whether or not I approve of your life! It has everything to do with accepting it anyway, which is what your mother has come to do and which I could not. You never quite see, do you, my dear?" he asked wearily. "At the end of your life, everything you have is dust but family, Lorelai. I allowed myself to forget that and your mother did not. I almost deprived her of her family." He met Lorelai's eyes. "I almost did the same to myself."

Lorelai looked away. "Dad, I'm sorry. I just don't understand what you're trying to tell me. You want to make peace with me because you think it'll help you repair your marriage? I'm sorry if that doesn't sound too appealing to me."

He restrained himself from slamming his hand to the table. "Damn it all, Lorelai," he breathed, "I am trying to make an effort here, to change, for all our sakes. Your mother may never take me back. I hate to think of it," he said, his voice faltering, "but that is a truth that I can't seem to get around. But you and Rory, the both of you are still my family regardless. Your mother, the past years have softened her, she's come to depend on both of you so—" He stopped. "I am not saying that we have to make peace, Lorelai."

"So, what are you saying?"

"We may never agree with each other on anything—"

"Which might actually be something we can agree on, ironically," Lorelai said, smiling faintly.

"—but that is irrelevant to the fact that we are family. Blood. We must make an effort," he said. "That is all."

Lorelai took a breath. "Okay. Okay, Dad." She picked a French fry off her plate and waved it in front of her for a moment. "I hope it all works out for you, Dad, I do. You should be together."

"Yes, well," Richard said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Tell me about this town meeting."

She rolled her eyes. "Something to do with insurance, local business responsibilities—I don't know." She checked her watch. "I should get going soon, though."

"I'll come with you. It is, after all, my area. Perhaps I could be of some assistance to you," he said.

"Oh, Dad, you don't have to do that," she said.

"Nonsense. I would be happy to help, if I could."

"Thanks, Dad."

The meeting hall was full as always that evening. Lorelai and her father sat in the third row, seated directly behind Luke. Lorelai could tell just from the back of Luke's head he was tense already. She leaned towards her father and told him to expect the bizarre—Stars Hollow town meetings were not those of other towns. He nodded sagely, as though this was not new information to him. Taylor mounted the podium and swelled his chest out, looking out over the town. He called them to order.

"As promised, we have a speaker this evening, here to inform us about the liabilities and responsibilities of local proprietors regarding insurance," he said. "We are lucky to have this intelligent young man with us this evening, so please, people, show a little respect, would you?" And with that, he stepped back and introduced Jason Stiles.

Lorelai went cold all over. She felt the blood drain from her face. Her mouth fell open and she found herself staring dumbly at Jason as he stood before the room, dressed in his best suit, smiling gregariously. She wanted to rise but found herself unable to find her legs, her arms—she was vaguely aware that she still had her limbs, but could not remember how to use them. Luke was already on his feet.

"Ah, what the hell is this?" he asked, prevented from approaching the raised podium by the presence of Joe and Andrew on either side of him.

As Jason began to speak, a slight ripple of whispers went through the room that this was Lorelai's ex, that he had been at the inn on the night of naked Kirk. Jason raised his hands and asked for quiet.

He turned to Taylor and bowed his head slightly in recognition. "I cannot thank Mr. Doose enough for kindly engaging me to speak to you all tonight. If I were worth the money he paid me at all, I would of course lecture you on your obligation as local businesses in insurance practices. However, I am unfortunately, not worthy of that sum and am here to plead my case on another matter altogether."

Taylor rose. "Now, just a minute here, young man—"

"Mr. Doose, have you ever been in love?" Jason asked.

Luke was still attempting to climb over Andrew and Joe and the other few people that blocked his path. "Would you just shut the hell up?" he bellowed. "Taylor, get that guy off the stage!"

Lorelai was aware of her father rising to his feet as well. She put her hand on his arm and raised herself slightly, saying Luke's name weakly. Luke turned to her, his face dark with anger. "Just let him do whatever he's come to do," she said, finding her voice. "He won't stop until he's done."

Jason beamed. "Thank you, Lorelai. I ask again, Mr. Doose, if you've ever been in love?"

Taylor looked ready to pop his buttons, inflated with hot rage. "I certainly don't see how that's anyone's business," he said.

"No, no, I don't suppose it is," Jason said amiably, as though this were ordinary board room discussion. "But don't worry, you'll be fully refunded your speaking fee. I am here, ladies and gentlemen, not to discuss insurance—really, who can think about such things when he's in love?"

"Ah, for crying out loud!" Luke bellowed, still standing. "Lorelai, are you really going to put up with this shit?"

"Luke, stop," she said, her eyes closed.

He shut his mouth and looked at her, puzzled and hurt. He sat.

"For I am in love, Stars Hollow, with one of your own. Lorelai Gilmore—I'm a mess. I am simply a mess. I know you think that there's irreparable damage that's been done, I know you think it's all over, but Lorelai, we were good together. We could be again. I know, I know, 'we broke up,'" he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "but it's been a month, and if anything, my feelings for you are more intense than they were when you walked out of that coffee shop. Please, Lorelai. We belong together—I need you in my life. All I'm asking for is a second chance, and I'm doing it here, in front of all these people, people you know and trust, because this way? You can't say no," he said.

"And that's what you want, Jason? You want me to give you another chance by denying me the choice of doing otherwise? Don't you think there's a little something wrong with that?" she cried. "You need to let this go, Jason. And if this is where it needs to happen, this is where it needs to happen. I can't be with you. I don't want to be with you. It's as simple as that. You say we were good together—what were we any good for, Jason? Sneaking around? Showing how witty we are? Feeling superior? That's not a relationship, Jason—that's a game."

"Is that really what you think?" he asked. "You think that's all we were together?"

"That is all we were together, Jason. And I need more than that," she said. "I need to be bigger than that."

"So you didn't care about me at all, is that what you're saying?"

"That has nothing to do with it—"

"Just answer the question, Lorelai," he said.

Her eyes faltered. "I don't know that I did, Jason. I'm sorry." She felt the heat in her skin now, the flush to her hairline. She was achingly conscious of the eyes on her, of her father beside her. She shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't know how to make that better, I really don't. I wish I could. I'm sorry."

Jason paced the stage for a moment. "So this is it, then, Lorelai? This is it. This is how you're going to end things."

She stamped her foot. "For God's sake, Jason, you ended things when you attacked my family! How many times do I have to say that? I am not the one responsible here—that's you, that's all you. I had to walk away, you gave me no choice. I'm sorry if that hurts you, I'm sorry you can't let go, but there's nothing more to do here. You can't make it better. This isn't some big romantic gesture. It's sad. You need to move on. I have."

Jason flung his arm in Luke's direction. "With Diner Guy," he spat.

Lorelai balled her hands into fists and she leaned forward, as though ready to attack. "For the last fucking time, his name is Luke!" she shouted. "This has gone on long enough. I think you need to leave."

Luke was on his feet again, his chair pushed back. Lorelai edged forward as she yelled, and he put his arms around her, restraining her. Jason watched them both, his eyes ablaze.

"I hope you're very happy together," he said icily. "I just hope you're prepared, Luke, is it?"

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Lorelai asked.

Luke shushed her. "It's not worth it," he said, his voice low.

"I think you know exactly what it means, Lorelai. You'll ask him to keep the relationship secret a while. You'll come up with reasons not to tell people—it's too good the way it is, telling people will ruin it. But really, you're ashamed," Jason said. His voice dripped with acid and bile, and he spoke quickly, words falling off his tongue, words that seared Lorelai's skin as they were spoken.

The room was deadly still as he spoke. The entire scene was a car accident—no one could turn their heads, move, advance, fixated as they were on the carnage unfolding before them.

"Oh, and don't feel bad, Luke, it's not you she's ashamed of—she's ashamed of herself. She is, you know, because she's just using you—a good fuck or two every now and again, witty repartee, that's really all she needs you for. Anything more than that requires an emotional commitment," Jason continued. "That's why she wants you to keep it a secret, not because it's fun or it's good for the relationship, no, but because you're not actually having a relationship—you're just fucking, and that's all she needs. Scratch the itch—"

Lorelai had felt herself falling from Luke's arms as Jason spoke, felt Luke step away from her. She had grabbed his shoulders, pulled him back, saw Joe and Andrew restrain him from leaping over the chairs in front of him. She felt rather than saw the crowd suddenly pressing forward, some attempting to advance, others trying to hold them back. She didn't notice her father disappear from her side, didn't see him pushing people aside as he mounted the podium, didn't see him until his fist connected square with Jason's jaw and Jason fell to the floor mid-sentence.

"Dad!" she cried.

Richard shook with anger where he stood. "Someone get this man out of here!" he shouted, pointing. "How dare you, Jason Stiles? You bastardly—"

"Dad!" Lorelai cried again. "Don't!" She pushed herself through the crowd and grabbed her father's hand. "You have a heart condition," she said. "We have to get out of here," she said wildly, tugging his hand, pulling him towards the door. "I have to get out of here." Richard put his arm around Lorelai as they stumbled to the door, clutching each other. "I have to get out of here," she said again.

The night was cool and it was only when they were out of doors that Lorelai realized she had been crying. A breeze played over her cheeks and she put her hand to her face, feeling hot, salty tears on her skin. "Oh, God," she said. "Oh, God. I have to get home. Daddy, I have to get home," she said. She pulled away from him, unable to feel the burden of his arm across her shoulders.

"Lorelai!"

She was already turned in the direction of her house when she heard his voice. She looked about her, disoriented. The denizens of Stars Hollow flooded out the doors of the meeting hall, swarmed over the front lawn, and her only thought was to get away, to be away, to be where no one could see her. Luke took her by the elbow and steered her around the side of the building.

"Are you okay?"

She was sobbing now, shaking her head, taking huge, ragged breaths. "I have to go home," she said. "I have to—"

"I'll take you home," he said, reaching out to her.

She stepped back, throwing her arms in front of her. "No. I can't. I just—" She looked at him and stepped back again, wiped her face, smoothed her hair. She tried to slow her breathing. "Take my dad somewhere. Hartford, the Inn, Sookie's place, anywhere, I don't care, I just—I can't—I have to—"

"Lorelai," he said, moving towards her.

"Don't touch me," she said. "Take care of my dad. I can't be here," she said. She looked down at her feet and began to giggle shrilly. "I have new shoes on," she told him. She reached down and slid them off her feet. "Take them," she said, her voice pitched high and uneven. "Take them. I'm going home."

He called after her as she ran for home.