There comes a point in winter, even for Lorelai, when it just isn't fun anymore. When the waiting for the first fresh snow and the holidays are only cooling memories, replaced by the grim realities of leave taking, and salted sidewalks. This turn about in mood coincided, for the second year in a row now, with Rory's return to school after her winter break.
And though she and Luke were happy and well and settled, and even still passionate, she could never remain sanguine when it came to saying goodbye to her child. Who wasn't really a child anymore.
But late Sunday afternoon, delay not longer possible, Mother said goodbye to daughter and watched her drive off, then later tossed and turned through a long fretful night. She could hold on as tightly as possible, white-knuckled and tense, but the end result was always the same: Daughters grew up and left. And though perhaps Rory thought and felt more than most about leaving her mother behind, she would go.
And Luke, a usual, had the early shift at the diner the next morning as she sniffled over coffee and toast, too forlorn to even visit the diner before work.
So, it was fitting that on this day, when she was exhausted from the no sleep and trying not to cry, that Murphy should cheerfully dance through her life and screw it up even more. It began when the jeep wouldn't turn over and, as this seemed to be a town-wide curse this most Monday of mornings, she'd waited over an hour for Gypsy to arrive with jumper cables. By the time she dragged her tired ass into The Dragonfly, the new day maid had quit and Michel was only waiting for her arrival to go home to nurse his cold. Which wouldn't have been much of a problem if the cable TV hadn't gone on the fritz in the only three rooms that were occupied. And Sookie hadn't felt compelled to burn the fish at lunch.
And so it went.
"Hello," she answered her cell phone dully, "Lorelai's Stinky House of Fish Hell."
"Fish hell?"
"A big beautiful trout gone. Nothing but charcoal now."
"Okay."
"Luke, she's gone and I'm all alone."
"The trout?"
"Rory!"
"Lorelai, you know you are not alone."
She paused.
"I just feel..."
"I know."
"It just... it feels like here you and I are on the brink... of something, but I'm losing her..."
"You'll never lose her."
"No, I think she's already gone."
"No, she isn't," he insisted gently, "not really."
"She worked on the Kerry campaign all fall and was so busy with school that I didn't get to see her, and now she'll do that internship during Spring break, and then the exchange program in the summer."
"It's a lot, I know. But, you want this for her, Lorelai. You do."
"I know. But, she's my family, Luke. We've always been this little family, she and I, and now... I don't know. Why isn't it possible to have everything at the same time?"
"Because we're not living in a TV show."
"Well, crap."
"No, it's not crap, Lorelai. You know that."
"Gah! I'm too miserable to be comforted right now."
"Yeah and I suck at it, anyway."
"No, you don't. I just feel... alone... I know, I know... I'm not, and I'm sorry, but it's just how I feel right now."
"You miss her."
"I do. I really do."
And what could he say to that? He understood. He really did. He was feeling that way himself, for the first time in a very long time. About her. About Lorelai. So attached that if she left, even for awhile, he'd be devastated. He was slow about some things. But of this, he was certain.
So Luke sighed when he hung up the phone, feeling more than slightly helpless.
For Lorelai's part, the fun only increased when the Purple-faced Guest's pricey watch went missing. The Inn was in an uproar, accusations and tears hurling about, leaving everyone feeling sheepish or abused, accordingly, when said watch turned up later under a sofa cushion in the lounge.
Lorelai now had one of those prodding headaches behind her right eye.
And, at last, when Tobin came in to take over for the night and the fish smell had been chased away by baking cookies and open windows, Lorelai scooped up her briefcase and dragged herself out to the jeep... which.... did start. Thank God. Because drastic things would have happened otherwise. She didn't know what kind of drastic things. Just that they, the things, would have been really... drastic.
Heavy-hearted, she finally switched the ignition off in her driveway and quietly leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She was being silly, she knew. Unreasonable, and illogical even... She sighed. When she looked up again she noticed, for the first time, that the house was alight. Every window glowing into the winter night. Huh. She'd thought Luke was working late tonight. Well, good. She was glad he was home. She tried to shake off her gloom as she got out and sloshed to the front door. She'd try to be good. Not be such a downer. For his sake. And slowly things would get better and she wouldn't miss Rory so much.
When she stepped through the door, delicious dinner smells warmed right through her. She kicked off her boots and shrugged out of her coat before walking into the kitchen. And stopped at what she beheld.
"What's all this?" she asked, stunned.
Luke turned around from the stove and smiled, "Dinner," he said.
"Dinner? For the Kennedys?" she asked in wonder, as she looked at the set table, flowers at its center, six or seven different steaming dishes scattered about."
"For you," he chuckled, "I didn't know what to make you. When I thought about it, it seemed that everything was your favorite. So I made... everything. Just about."
"For me?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yep," he nodded and started tossing the salad, "Thought you could use a little pick-me-up... Hey, what's wrong?" he looked up in concern.
For she had burst loudly into tears.
"Shh...." he said, hurrying to her side to put his arms around her, "It's just dinner."
She sobbed noisily into his shirt. The dam, now broken, was going to have to run its course and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
When at last she was boneless and spent against him, he led her wordlessly up the stairs and into the bathroom and began to unbutton her blouse.
"Luke, your dinner..." she protested faintly.
But he ignored her and leaned to light her candle on the tub's edge, turn on the bath tap, and switch off the harsh overhead light.
"It isn't going any where," he answered.
She nodded at him and felt silent tears come now. They rolled slowly down her cheeks as she allowed him to take over. He finished unbuttoning her blouse and cast it aside, then gently unzipped her pants and lowered them, taking the bit of blue lace beneath as well, to the floor, then reached to pull down her socks too.
When
he stood again he smiled at her a little, then gently kissed her
forehead, before turning her shoulders away from him. Her back to his
chest now, she looked up into the mirror and watched his reflection
as he focused on un-hooking her bra. Once released from its confines
she sighed and let it drop forward and slide down over her arms and
off her hands before her. She moaned then and leaned back against him
as his hands slid under her breasts. He tenderly stroked, then
ever-so-
gently scratched at the angry red marks left behind by
the bra, just as he'd seen her do for herself a thousand times
before. Both breathed quietly into this moment, regarding one another
in the steamy mirror before them.... Luke roused himself then,
knowing that this wasn't the time for his growing need. So he
kissed her head and scooped up her hair and handed her the giant
clasp she kept next to the sink. He watched her expertly take over to
twist and clip the hair up, and then handed her into the warm tub.
"I'll be back in awhile," he assured her, and closed the door softly behind him.
She nodded gratefully, even managing to smile a little before lifting a cloth to scrub her make-up away.
She awoke with a start a couple of hours later and blinked as she looked about the darkened bedroom. She remembered then how he'd come back with warm pajamas fresh from the dryer and helped her into them before she tumbled onto the bed.
She slid groggily out of their bed now and tread down the stairs to the living room where Luke sat flipping through the channels, a small fire crackling at the grate.
"Hey, you're awake," he smiled up at her, "Feel any better?"
"Yes," she nodded, "but..."
"You're hungry?" he asked knowingly.
She nodded.
"Come on then," he said and rose to his own stockinged feet to take her hand and lead her to the kitchen table.
He took various containers from the 'frig then as she watched, and loaded up a plate to heat in the microwave. When it was warm and before her with a cup of coffee next to it, he settled across from her to drink his tea and wonder again over her ability to eat.
When at last she was full, she looked up at him and smiled over her sip of coffee.
"Thank you," she said.
He smiled back knowing she was thanking him for much more than just the food.
"Sure," he said, and then, "Dessert?"
"Can you believe I may actually be too full?"
"But I have something special for you," he frowned.
"Well okay, twist my arm then! What have you got?" she grinned, "Chocolate pie?"
"No," he said, and wordlessly slid a napkin over to her.
She looked down, "Luke, what is this?"
"You know what it is."
She looked up at him, feeling the tell-tale pricking behind her eyes for the thousandth time that day.
"Oh, Luke..." she whispered.
"Don't cry, Lorelai, not again. This is supposed to cheer you up," he panicked a little.
"B-but, Oh my God! I ruined your evening, didn't I? The dinner, the flowers... Of course! Oh, Geez. I am so stupid! You had something wonderful all planned...A special moment..."
"Lorelai..." he tried to interrupt.
"I am so sorry!" she repeated and hopped nervously to her feet. "Look, why don't I give you a do-over?"
"A do-over?"
"Right. A do-over," she repeated, "I'll go upstairs and put on my red dress... or, or something, and come down, and then you can..."
"Lorelai," Luke stood up and walked over to her, "I don't need that. We don't need that. Here, open it. This moment is perfect by me. Hell, all my moments with you are perfect."
She took the box from him and looked into his eyes.
"You did not just say that," she stared through shining eyes.
"Actually, I did," he told her without hesitation. "Now, open it. I called Rory for the size, so it should fit. You should have seen me trying to sneak into the jewelry store this afternoon. It was a regular stealth operation. Every time I turned around Kirk or Patty or Taylor or someone was there. This town is too frickin' small and..."
And naturally, she had to grab him and kiss him then. Just to shut him up.
"So, it's all right?" he asked when they pulled away to breathe again.
"It's perfect," she whispered.
"And," he cleared his throat, "You'll marry me?"
"Yes."
