Chapter 2: Danger, Will Robinson
Lorelai fluttered nervously through the house, stacking the magazines on the coffee table, kicking a pair of shoes under the couch, turning a light on, then off, then on again, then staring it down as if it was deliberately confusing her with the mystery of mood-balanced ambient lighting.
"Mom!" Rory said, sitting in front of the vacuum cleaner on the floor in the living room. "Park it. You're making me nervous."
"I'm making you nervous? Sorry, hon, that's nothing compared to what I'm doing to myself." Lorelai indicated the prone vacuum. "Are you going to use that, or just remove its appendix?"
"I think Dusty Floorfield has sung her last tune," Rory said. "For instance," she shook the base and something rattled.
"Ughh," Lorelai groaned. "Just use it or put it away, I don't care anymore."
"Sorry, Dusty, but you're destined for the great appliance closet in the sky." Rory patted her comfortingly.
Lorelai went into the kitchen. "Luke!" she cried, desperation creeping into the edge of her voice.
"Ah!" The spatula flipped out of his hand and landed on the floor, splattering gravy. "Dammit, Lorelai. Don't sneak up on a man stirring gravy with a spatula. You do realize you don't have a single decent kitchen item."
Lorelai soaked a paper towel and knelt to clean up the greasy mess.
"Sorry," she said. "How's it coming? Food good? Great. Is that what you're wearing?"
Luke made an irritated noise. "You said no tee shirt, no flannel, and no jeans. I've got pants with creases, and a shirt with irrigation ditches," he said, referring to the ribs on the black shirt.
"But it's short sleeved. Informal. What about one of those clingy sweaters, the ones that show off your shoulders?"
"It's like a kettle of rice outside!"
"Summertime, no sweater, got it. But –"
"Lorelai, I'm fixing dinner. What I'm wearing right now is fine. If not, your mother will just have to get over it."
"Fine," Lorelai grumbled.
"What're you so worried about, anyway? Your mom's seen your place before."
"And written tomes on its filth, décor, and angle in relation to the sun."
"So you know what to expect," he said without sympathy.
"Well, true, I have grown accustomed to my mother's usual diatribe on my PowerPuff Girls flatware."
"This is not a man-friendly house," Luke muttered.
"It's just . . ." Lorelai trailed off.
"What?" Luke said. Lorelai looked askance. "Me?"
Lorelai hesitated.
"Your mom doesn't like me?" Luke said.
"She doesn't know you," Lorelai said diplomatically. "She'll love you. Eventually."
The doorbell rang. Lorelai yelped.
"Why don't you get that, Rory," Luke called. "Give your mom time for the meds to kick in."
The front door opened, sounds of greetings filled the front hall.
"Crispin, Crispian," Lorelai said. She turned to go greet Emily.
Luke grabbed her elbow. "Hey," he said quietly. "It's going to be fine."
Lorelai smiled gratefully, and they left the kitchen together.
"Mom, hi. How're you?"
"Hello, Lorelai. I see you've finally put in stepping stones from the driveway."
"I laid down those, Mrs. – er – Em –" Luke looked sidelong at Lorelai. Lorelai shrugged.
"'Emily' is just fine, Luke," Emily said, to his relief. "You're looking well."
"Thanks, you look nice, too."
Luke excused himself to check on dinner while the women moved into the living room. Lorelai poured drinks, wine for the legally aged and soda for Rory.
"Luke is making dinner?" Emily said. "I must say, that's a relief."
"To you and me both," Rory chirped.
"Excuse me, missy," Lorelai said, "I haven't heard any complaints about my mac and cheese surprise."
"'Surprise'?" Emily asked.
"The surprise is the crunchy stuff," Rory explained. Lorelai sent her an annoyed glance.
They chatted about the weather until Luke came back into the living room to say that dinner was ready. Lorelai and Rory started for the kitchen, Emily following them hesitantly. It was then that she realized Lorelai didn't have a dining room. Emily couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten in the kitchen.
"Do we – ah, do you have assigned seats?" Emily asked, slightly flustered.
Lorelai held back a guffaw. "Only when the Pope is in town."
Emily sat.
"Mmm, mashed potatoes with cheese," Rory cooed.
While Emily missed the propriety of her fine dining room, she couldn't help but be charmed by Lorelai's informal, cozy kitchen. Across the table, Lorelai felt like something was missing without Emily scolding her nervous domestic help, although Lorelai noticed that that spike of pain behind her left eye that she usually felt by now was absent.
Conversation was a little stalled; Lorelai and Rory – who, Emily noticed, had been unusually less talkative all evening -- didn't do one of their tag-team comedy bits. Meanwhile, Luke was having a hard time thinking of a single thing he had in common with Emily. Overall, though, the company was pleasant and content.
During a lull, Lorelai prompted, "Mom, you were saying that you're going on vacation? Did you decide to go to Europe without Rory?"
"You were going to go to Europe again?" Luke asked Rory, impressed. Twice before age twenty.
"Grandma offered," Rory said, "but I need to take that job as a fact checker at the Stars Hollow Gazette. I'm sorry, Grandma, I really do wish I could go."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Rory. It was just an idea, on terribly short notice. I understand that you need to build your resume at your age."
In the face of her grandmother's pride, Rory didn't like to admit, even to herself, that the job was mainly so she wouldn't have to work during the school year and would have more time to study. Plus, books alone would drain her of $400, and she was determined not to rely on her mom for cash while the Dragonfly was still a new business.
"So you're not going either, Emily?" Luke asked.
"No, I've decided to spend a month at the house we always rent on Martha's Vineyard," Emily explained. "I convinced your father that if he gave me the house, I wouldn't go after that classic car of his."
"That sounds nice," Lorelai said neutrally. Over the past month, most of her interactions with her parents had revolved around avoiding getting involved in their divorce – separation – whatever.
"Yeah," Luke said. "Good fishing up there."
The women had no response for that.
"And you, Luke?" Emily asked. "Any special summer plans?"
"Nah, nothing special. I usually head up to Ely Lake for a few days."
"Do you rent?"
"No, nothing fancy like that. My dad had this little shack up there. No running water, generator, that kind of thing."
Emily smile flickered at 'shack.' "How nice," she said.
"It's back-to-nature," Rory explained. "Mom's going with him."
Emily looked stunned. "You are? You are?"
"Yes," Lorelai said, defensive.
"May I ask why?"
Lorelai smiled sidelong at Luke, prompting Rory to roll her eyes. "No reason," Lorelai said.
"I thought you were insane when you took your daughter traipsing through Europe like a pack of wolves, but this is ludicrous!" Emily said.
"It's really not that bad," Luke started.
"I apologize, Luke," Emily said, in a tone none too apologetic. "I am sure it is a pleasant getaway from the real world for someone who enjoys a chance to live simply without modern intrusions. My daughter, however, once forgot her hair dryer on a family vacation to the Outer Banks and sulked in her room until her father drove thirty-five miles to the nearest Woolworths to buy her a new one."
Luke chuckled.
"That sounds like Mom," Rory said.
"I just wanted to see what the big deal was," Lorelai said. "You act like that shack is the only Mounds bar in a roomful of Almond Joys."
"It's quiet," Luke said pointedly.
"How about this," Emily said. "Why don't the three of you join me on Martha's Vineyard for a week? It's a perfect compromise: Luke, you can fish all afternoon and never see a soul. And Lorelai will enjoy the luxury of not having to heat her bathwater on the stove. And Rory, it's unconscionable for you to jump into a job right after your first year at Yale; please let me pry you out into the sun for a week."
"Oh, ah -- mom, I don't know," Lorelai hedged. "We wouldn't want to butt into your vacation."
"I've certainly got the room. I'll be there for a month, and since I'm going to be alone this year, I would enjoy the company."
Rory looked guiltily across the table at Lorelai; they had been worried about both Emily and Richard since the divorce. The idea of Emily rattling around that big, old lake house alone. . . .
"Luke, what about you?" Emily asked.
"Ah…" he said. "It does sound nice. What do you think, Lorelai?"
Lorelai couldn't blame the man for faltering under her mother's Basilisk stare, even if it meant putting all the pressure on her.
"I guess it sounds nice," Lorelai conceded. "Rory, honey, do you think you can get off work?" Her eyes said: 'Please please please be my buffer!'
"Sure," Rory said, the only person at the table who seemed genuinely interested. "It sounds cool, Grandma. I love woods and running water."
"Excellent," Emily said. "So it's settled then."
Thanks for reading! There's more to come