She had expected that she would stall at the door, that opening it
would be difficult, but instead she had just walked up, turned the knob,
and pushed, as if there had been no time since her last visit. She opened
the door to a familiar smell and a familiar sound: that bell. That warning
that someone was entering. It had always been her listening for that bell,
sitting at a table or at the counter, trying to guess who was entering
before turning to look. Now everyone else was staring at her. The newcomer.
She glanced around and realized that she recognized none of the other seven or eight customers. She felt a small pang in the back of her throat, but then reasoned. Ten years. More people may have moved to this small town in ten years. It did throw her off that she would know exactly none of the people here when she used to know everyone as if they were all one big extended family. This was your doing, she told herself. She straightened up and walked towards the counter and sat, just as she had so many times before. This whole experience was like a huge deja-vu.
She watched the back of the man who was fiddling with the coffee maker. Flannel shirt, of course, but surprisingly no baseball cap. She could barely wait until he turned around. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, if she was going to wait for him to realize who she was or if she was going to tell him. It didn't matter much. She just needed something, anything, to make her sure that this town was still the same as it always had been, and what better gage than the same diner-owner that had been there since what seemed like the beginning of time.
He turned and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't him. Where was he? She ordered a cup of coffee from the man who was standing behind the counter. Thoughts were bubbling in her head like in a cauldron. She casually asked if the man owned the diner. Maybe he was just hired help?
But no, the man answered in the affirmative. And then he continued the conversation. Asked where she was from. What was she supposed to say to that? New York. It was the easiest answer. He didn't need to hear her story about how she ended up back here. He passed her her coffee, and she drank from her cup. She took off her sunglasses. The man began to stare. She fumbled for her sunglasses again and put them back on. She didn't want him to be able to tell if she started to cry. He asked if she wanted a burger. A burger, for God's sake. She hadn't eaten meat in over nine years, but she almost said yes. This place was getting to her. She had to stay detached. She didn't even remember why she had come. She grabbed her purse. This whole ordeal was like a bad dream. This town had changed. It seemed that the town she was looking for was gone. She dropped money for the coffee and hurried out of there. She wanted to cry in peace.
Her car was parked directly in front of the building. She got in and flung her purse and her high heeled shoes into the seat next to her. She pulled out and began to drive, tears streaming down her face, ruining, she was sure, her mascara. She drove past Miss Patty's dance studio. There were no classes going on. The lights were out. She drove past Doose's. She saw no one she recognized on the streets. What was going on? Ten years wasn't enough to completely destroy something as perfect as what Stars Hollow had been.
She reached for the nape of her neck with one hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel. She began to methodically pull the pins that were secruing her fancy hairdo, letting her long, dark hair fall to her shoulders. The tightness of that bun had been giving her a headache. She stopped the car and nearly cried out when she saw where she was. The house. The old house. She had lived there for so many years... sixteen maybe? More? She wasn't quite sure. She sat in her car for what seemed like hours, and then put the car in drive. She drove straight to the other place in this town she had once called her home. The Independence Inn. She sat in the front seat of her car, using a Kleenex to dab at her running mascara and pulling her hair back into a ponytail using some of the hairpins. She grabbed her shoes and her purse and walked up the front steps of the Inn. It was the one thing in this town she could trust to be the way she knew it would be. She knew it would be different, from the fire. And she also knew that her mother no longer ran it. That was the main reason she came. She wouldn't have to see Lorelai. She hadn't told her she was coming. They hadn't spoken in more than five years.
She glanced around and realized that she recognized none of the other seven or eight customers. She felt a small pang in the back of her throat, but then reasoned. Ten years. More people may have moved to this small town in ten years. It did throw her off that she would know exactly none of the people here when she used to know everyone as if they were all one big extended family. This was your doing, she told herself. She straightened up and walked towards the counter and sat, just as she had so many times before. This whole experience was like a huge deja-vu.
She watched the back of the man who was fiddling with the coffee maker. Flannel shirt, of course, but surprisingly no baseball cap. She could barely wait until he turned around. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, if she was going to wait for him to realize who she was or if she was going to tell him. It didn't matter much. She just needed something, anything, to make her sure that this town was still the same as it always had been, and what better gage than the same diner-owner that had been there since what seemed like the beginning of time.
He turned and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't him. Where was he? She ordered a cup of coffee from the man who was standing behind the counter. Thoughts were bubbling in her head like in a cauldron. She casually asked if the man owned the diner. Maybe he was just hired help?
But no, the man answered in the affirmative. And then he continued the conversation. Asked where she was from. What was she supposed to say to that? New York. It was the easiest answer. He didn't need to hear her story about how she ended up back here. He passed her her coffee, and she drank from her cup. She took off her sunglasses. The man began to stare. She fumbled for her sunglasses again and put them back on. She didn't want him to be able to tell if she started to cry. He asked if she wanted a burger. A burger, for God's sake. She hadn't eaten meat in over nine years, but she almost said yes. This place was getting to her. She had to stay detached. She didn't even remember why she had come. She grabbed her purse. This whole ordeal was like a bad dream. This town had changed. It seemed that the town she was looking for was gone. She dropped money for the coffee and hurried out of there. She wanted to cry in peace.
Her car was parked directly in front of the building. She got in and flung her purse and her high heeled shoes into the seat next to her. She pulled out and began to drive, tears streaming down her face, ruining, she was sure, her mascara. She drove past Miss Patty's dance studio. There were no classes going on. The lights were out. She drove past Doose's. She saw no one she recognized on the streets. What was going on? Ten years wasn't enough to completely destroy something as perfect as what Stars Hollow had been.
She reached for the nape of her neck with one hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel. She began to methodically pull the pins that were secruing her fancy hairdo, letting her long, dark hair fall to her shoulders. The tightness of that bun had been giving her a headache. She stopped the car and nearly cried out when she saw where she was. The house. The old house. She had lived there for so many years... sixteen maybe? More? She wasn't quite sure. She sat in her car for what seemed like hours, and then put the car in drive. She drove straight to the other place in this town she had once called her home. The Independence Inn. She sat in the front seat of her car, using a Kleenex to dab at her running mascara and pulling her hair back into a ponytail using some of the hairpins. She grabbed her shoes and her purse and walked up the front steps of the Inn. It was the one thing in this town she could trust to be the way she knew it would be. She knew it would be different, from the fire. And she also knew that her mother no longer ran it. That was the main reason she came. She wouldn't have to see Lorelai. She hadn't told her she was coming. They hadn't spoken in more than five years.