Gossip

Rory slept fitfully after her mother's phone call. She debated whether or not to tell Emily, or rather what to tell Emily. Over a breakfast of coffee and croissants—with jam for Emily, gnutella for Rory—Rory mentioned her mother had called in the middle of the night and had not sounded quite like herself.

"And you think something's wrong," Emily said. "You don't suppose something is the matter with your grandfather, do you?"

Rory smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure that's not it, Grandma. If something had happened to Grandpa, she would have told me right away. She probably just had a bad day. I just want to make sure—"

"Of course you do," Emily said. "We'll postpone our outing until you've spoken to her. I would feel better, as well, knowing that everything is fine."

Rory ping-ponged about the apartment all morning, waiting for a near decent hour to call home. She thumbed restlessly through her Borges and picked up her pen several times to write but found herself unable to concentrate. She hated to admit that some part of her was thinking about Stars Hollow as though it existed in a vacuum—that when she left, her mother and the rest of the town stopped and stood still, waiting for her to come back. Whatever stories Lorelai and Lane would tell her when she got back—Kirk's newest entrepreneurial endeavor, Taylor's latest town ordinance, the out of control bonfire at the last town festival—would all be delicious fictions created just to amuse her. She was relieved when Emily ran out to pick up the dry cleaning she'd sent out the day before, she could pick things up, turn them over, and put them down again, she could pace circles around the couch, find various ways to try and distract herself without feeling watched, without feeling the need to explain herself.

At what she hoped was a decent hour, she first called the house. Three times, she let the phone ring ten times before hanging up. She called Lorelai's cell and left a casually worried voice mail—"Mom, it's me. Just wanted to make sure you weren't talking or walking in your sleep, or anything, or you were having some sort of pre-senile fit last night. Call me?"—when the automatic message picked up, meaning the phone wasn't on. She called the Dragonfly, but neither Michel nor Sookie were in yet. In a fit of desperation, she called the only other place she could think her mother would be.

"Luke's, this is Lane."

Rory grinned, wedging the phone under her chin to wrap her arms around herself, delighted. "Lane!" she cried. "Lane—"

"Rory? Oh, my God, Rory!" Rory could almost see her friend stop in her tracks, her face break into a smile. "How are you? How's Europe? Are you smoking and wearing all black yet?" she asked.

"Oh, absolutely," she replied. "How are you? How's Stars Hollow?"

"I'm totally fine, and Stars Hollow is the same. Mostly," she said. "I guess you heard about last night, huh?"

Rory ceased pacing and hugged herself tighter. "I didn't—is everything okay? Is my mom there? I've been trying to get a hold of her all morning, and I can't find her anywhere. Did something happen?"

"Hang on a sec, okay?" Lane asked. Rory could hear muffled noises from the diner as her friend slipped away from the counter for a quieter spot. "We had a town meeting last night, and that guy Lorelai was dating before—"

"Who, Jason?"

"Yeah, him. He showed up and he made this whole big deal about wanting her back, and she shot him down," Lane said.

"Oh, my God," Rory said, seating herself. "That's awful. In front of everyone?"

"He didn't really give her much choice," Lane said. "And then—Rory, it was bad."

"What? Lane, tell me. Just—there wasn't any carnage, or anything, right? My mom's not hurt, is she?"

"No, she's not, but, Rory—that Jason guy said some pretty terrible things."

Rory leaned forward, her hand to her forehead. "Like what?" she asked tremulously.

"You sure you want to hear this?"

"Please."

Lane took a breath. "He basically said your mom was using him for sex, like that's all she can do in a relationship, and that she's ashamed of herself because she knows that's how she is. Only he said it much worse than I just did. I'm so sorry, Rory."

"No—oh, my God. No way did he say that," she said, her voice faint. It was all she could think to say. She tasted bile at the back of her throat.

"It was awful, Rory. I thought Luke was going to storm the stage and kill the guy, and the whole town was just insane. Someone could have got trampled; it was such a mess. And then your grandfather—"

"Grandpa was there?"

"Yeah—he'd been having dinner with Lorelai and he came to the meeting and he just punched the guy right in the face in the middle of his rant," Lane said.

"Grandpa punched Jason?" Rory asked, standing.

"What?"

Rory looked up and saw Emily standing in the doorway, her face pale. Rory gestured ignorance with her hands. "I'm talking to my friend Lane," she whispered. "I'll tell you after."

"After?" Emily cried, but Lane was speaking again.

"Clocked him right in the face. It was pretty impressive, actually," Lane said. "And then Lorelai grabbed your grandfather, and they ran out, and Luke ran out after them—I'm not sure what happened after that, honestly. I know Luke ended up bringing your grandfather back to the diner and Lorelai went home."

"Oh, my God," Rory said again. "I can't believe this. I have to talk to Mom." She felt strung too tightly as she spoke, as though if someone pulled her just so she would break in half out of fear and worry.

"If I see her, I'll tell her you called," Lane said. "I wish I could do more."

"Thanks, Lane. I should go—I have to talk to my grandma. I'll talk to you soon?" she said.

"You know where to find me," Lane said. "It's so good to talk to you—I miss you!"

"I miss you too," Rory told her.

"I know you have to go, but—are you okay?"

Rory bit her lip and thought. "You know, I really think I am. I think this was the right thing to do."

"Good," Lane said. "Then I'm glad. All right, call soon, okay?"

"You bet," Rory said. "Thanks, Lane."

After she hung up, she repeated what she'd heard to Emily, who had stood at Rory's shoulder, wringing her hands for the remainder of the phone call. She sat when Rory was done.

"My God," she said. "That's just—that's just awful. Of all the despicable—I'm glad your grandfather punched him."

Rory sunk to the couch beside Emily. "Me, too. I just hope he didn't hurt himself."

"And your mother, no one's heard from her?"

"Not as far as I can tell, and I can't get a hold of her. I'm really worried about her, Grandma," Rory said. "I mean, she's been under so much stress lately, and I just can't believe that anyone would say anything that awful about someone, about my mother! And to do it in front of everyone she knows, I just—" Her voice faltered. "I wish I could be with her," she said. "I wish I could help her."

Emily swallowed hard and arranged her features carefully as she pushed the hair off Rory's face. "If I know your mother, Rory, it's likely she wouldn't let you help her even if you were there," she said. "But it's up to you—you decide what we'll do next. Would you like to go home?"

Rory's eyes widened. She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to find her voice. "I—I hadn't thought of that. I don't know," she said. "I just—I just need to talk to my mom," she said, looking away, staring at the phone. "I just wish she'd call. I could call Babette, have her go check up on Mom, but I don't know if Mom would want to see her. Or if Mom's even home. Or—"

"Rory? Would it make you feel better to speak to this Babette person?"

Rory nodded gratefully at her grandmother. "I just need to know Mom's okay," she said. "That she's not—"

"All right. Why don't I call—Babette, is it?—and see if she's heard from Lorelai. It would set me at ease, too. I—your mother sometimes tries to be a little too strong. I'm sure this time isn't any different. It would be reassuring just to have someone check on her," Emily said. Rory could see the worry in Emily's eyes, slowly collecting like tears, ready to spill over. She slipped her hand in her grandmother's and told her the number.

Dear Mom, she thought, Grandma's good in a crisis. A little too good, just like she said you were. I want to know you're all right—are you all right? Were you all right last night? Were you alone? Did you let anyone take care of you like you took care of me? Mom?

Rory could just hear Babette speaking to her grandmother over the phone, knowing that with an ocean between them Babette was speaking even more loudly than usual. She gave a much more detailed account of what occurred during and after the town meeting and had some choice words about the kind of person Jason must be for doing what he did in the manner he chose to do it. She heard how Joe and Andrew held Luke back, how Lorelai took off after handing Luke her shoes—a detail Babette really couldn't account for—how Luke got Richard back to the apartment over the diner as fast as humanly possible before taking off after Lorelai, and how when people began to arrive at the house to see Lorelai, he had fended them off by telling them it was either none of their God damned business or that Lorelai wanted to be alone for a while. Babette assured Emily that she hadn't seen Lorelai leave the house since yesterday, and she had been watching, too, so she'd know, and that Luke had been there almost the whole time—he'd stepped out just after six to see Richard and put someone in charge of the diner. She added it was the best decision Lorelai had made for herself in a long time to start dating Luke, and that no one in the town believed for a second the terrible things Jason had said about Lorelai the night before. Emily thanked her and hung up, asking only that if Babette were to see Lorelai, to tell her that she and Rory were waiting for her to call them. She looked at Rory.

"It sounds just dreadful. I can't imagine what must be going through your mother's mind right now," she said.

Rory sighed. "I can," she said. "I'm sure she's beating herself up pretty well."

They sat in silence awhile, Emily's arm around Rory, Rory's head on her grandmother's shoulder.

"I knew I was right for hating that Digger Stiles," Emily said abruptly.

Rory couldn't help but laugh just a little. "Oh, Grandma," she said. "You really were."

"I suppose all we can do is wait for your mother to call," Emily said.

Rory closed her eyes and nodded. "I guess." She rested quietly for a moment.

"When did your mother begin seeing Luke?" Emily asked.

She looked up. "Right before we left, I think."

"So this hasn't been going on long?"

Rory shook her head. "I'm sure she was going to tell you when we got back." Without thinking, she added, "everyone would probably know by then, anyway. It's pretty hard to keep a secret in Stars Hollow."

"I see," Emily said.

Rory cringed and took Emily's hand, squeezing it. "I'm sure she was going to tell you, Grandma."

Emily said nothing, and the two women sat in silence, waiting for the phone to ring.