In a town as small as Stars Hollow, news travelled fast, and everyone was
wondering about the woman who had shown up one day and was staying at the
old Independence indefinitely. That was what everyone was saying. That she
had paid for a room and told them that she wasn't sure how long she was
staying.
No one stayed at the Independence anymore. It was strange that this lady was staying there. The Independence had been lovely in its prime, but now everyone stayed at the Dragonfly. First, everyone had gone there to give Sookie and Lorelai business, but slowly the Dragonfly had gotten beautiful and had become an amazing inn, more amazing than the Independence had ever been.
The new manager of the Independence had been astonished and excited that someone was there to stay indefinitely. They hadn't been getting much business. Mostly, they just got business when the Dragonfly was overbooked.
Rory had checked into the Independence and gone straight to sleep that day, not even going back downstairs for dinner. Why was she back? Why had she chosen now to come back? It reminded her of the second time she had read Catcher in the Rye. She had remembered loving it so much, but once she read it again as an adult, it had lost all of its charm and she now could no longer remember it the way she had. That was how it was with this place. She should have just stayed in New York. If she hadn't come back, then all of the old townspeople would still be here. She wouldn't have had to see all of the changes that had taken place in the last ten years. She would still remember it the way it has been when she had left.
When she woke up the next morning, she realized that she had gone to sleep with her suit and makeup on. She took off her suit and layed it on her bed. She went into the bathroom to take a shower and wash her face. When she came out, she opened her suitcase and took out a pair of black linen pants and a white collared shirt. She French-braided her hair and remembered to put on her tortoise-shell sunglasses. She looked in the mirror. It was the same way she had looked for the past few years, but she suddenly yearned for the blue jeans and t-shirts she had left behind so many years ago, the ones she had left when she ran.
She supposed that everyone had said that it was to be expected, when she left. She was exactly like her mother in every other way, why not in running? Of course, it hadn't been for the same reason as her mother. She wasn't a mother. No, she couldn't imagine herself a mother. She was a worker. No time for kids. What a thought. Rory with kids.
Yes, people still called her Rory, although it hadn't been out of the question to adopt her actual name when she moved. Rory had strongly considered using Lorelai as her name, but then she realized that the less she heard the name, the less she would think about where she got it from. She signed everything Rory. She didn't explain where she got the name. People still said that it sounded like an unusual name, but instead of explaining the story about how she got the name when her mother was in the hospital in Demerol, she just nodded, agreeing, "Yes, it is."
It was so confusing to her. Where was everyone? If she had seen some of what had been, she might have been able to approach Lorelai. Maybe she would have stayed at the Dragonfly instead. But the second she had seen that stranger behind the counter at Luke's...
So what? She was just going to sit here at the Inn and do nothing? Then why was she here in the first place? No, she needed to do something. Anything. She barely thought as she stood and took her car keys from the table.
She walked back down to the lobby of the Inn and walked out to the parking lot, climbing into her car and driving straight towards the Dragonfly. She parked her car and got out, walking towards the door. She took a large breath, readjusting her sunglasses, and then walked straight in.
She walked up to the desk and took in a breath. It was Michel. Finally, someone she recognized. She approached the desk. "May I help you, ma'am?"
He didn't remember her. No bother. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to be remembered yet. She glanced around the lobby. There was a piano player in the corner, a few bell boys and a maid in the lobby. But no Lorelai.
"Yes, I'm um, looking for Ms. Lorelai Gilmore?" Rory said in a professional voice. Suddenly, the entire lobby went silent.
"I'm sorry," Michel said, regaining his voice. "She is on... leave."
"Leave?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where I could find her?"
"No," Michel turned and pretended to busy himself with some papers.
"Please? It's very important."
Michel paused again. He slowly turned. "Probably at Hartford Memorial."
"Hartford... the hospital?"
"Yes." He turned again.
"But... why?"
"I cannot give you that information. I suggest that you simply write her a letter or give her a call at her house. She always returns her messages, eventually."
Michel scrawled an address and phone number that Rory already knew on the back of a business card with "Lorelai Gilmore, Owner and General Manager" on the front.
"Thank you," Rory mouthed, her beating heart getting in the way of her voice box.
She walked out of the Dragonfly and got back into her car. She leaned her face down on the steering wheel and sobbed. The sound of her horn echoed through the parking lot, drowning out the sounds of her cries.
No one stayed at the Independence anymore. It was strange that this lady was staying there. The Independence had been lovely in its prime, but now everyone stayed at the Dragonfly. First, everyone had gone there to give Sookie and Lorelai business, but slowly the Dragonfly had gotten beautiful and had become an amazing inn, more amazing than the Independence had ever been.
The new manager of the Independence had been astonished and excited that someone was there to stay indefinitely. They hadn't been getting much business. Mostly, they just got business when the Dragonfly was overbooked.
Rory had checked into the Independence and gone straight to sleep that day, not even going back downstairs for dinner. Why was she back? Why had she chosen now to come back? It reminded her of the second time she had read Catcher in the Rye. She had remembered loving it so much, but once she read it again as an adult, it had lost all of its charm and she now could no longer remember it the way she had. That was how it was with this place. She should have just stayed in New York. If she hadn't come back, then all of the old townspeople would still be here. She wouldn't have had to see all of the changes that had taken place in the last ten years. She would still remember it the way it has been when she had left.
When she woke up the next morning, she realized that she had gone to sleep with her suit and makeup on. She took off her suit and layed it on her bed. She went into the bathroom to take a shower and wash her face. When she came out, she opened her suitcase and took out a pair of black linen pants and a white collared shirt. She French-braided her hair and remembered to put on her tortoise-shell sunglasses. She looked in the mirror. It was the same way she had looked for the past few years, but she suddenly yearned for the blue jeans and t-shirts she had left behind so many years ago, the ones she had left when she ran.
She supposed that everyone had said that it was to be expected, when she left. She was exactly like her mother in every other way, why not in running? Of course, it hadn't been for the same reason as her mother. She wasn't a mother. No, she couldn't imagine herself a mother. She was a worker. No time for kids. What a thought. Rory with kids.
Yes, people still called her Rory, although it hadn't been out of the question to adopt her actual name when she moved. Rory had strongly considered using Lorelai as her name, but then she realized that the less she heard the name, the less she would think about where she got it from. She signed everything Rory. She didn't explain where she got the name. People still said that it sounded like an unusual name, but instead of explaining the story about how she got the name when her mother was in the hospital in Demerol, she just nodded, agreeing, "Yes, it is."
It was so confusing to her. Where was everyone? If she had seen some of what had been, she might have been able to approach Lorelai. Maybe she would have stayed at the Dragonfly instead. But the second she had seen that stranger behind the counter at Luke's...
So what? She was just going to sit here at the Inn and do nothing? Then why was she here in the first place? No, she needed to do something. Anything. She barely thought as she stood and took her car keys from the table.
She walked back down to the lobby of the Inn and walked out to the parking lot, climbing into her car and driving straight towards the Dragonfly. She parked her car and got out, walking towards the door. She took a large breath, readjusting her sunglasses, and then walked straight in.
She walked up to the desk and took in a breath. It was Michel. Finally, someone she recognized. She approached the desk. "May I help you, ma'am?"
He didn't remember her. No bother. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to be remembered yet. She glanced around the lobby. There was a piano player in the corner, a few bell boys and a maid in the lobby. But no Lorelai.
"Yes, I'm um, looking for Ms. Lorelai Gilmore?" Rory said in a professional voice. Suddenly, the entire lobby went silent.
"I'm sorry," Michel said, regaining his voice. "She is on... leave."
"Leave?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where I could find her?"
"No," Michel turned and pretended to busy himself with some papers.
"Please? It's very important."
Michel paused again. He slowly turned. "Probably at Hartford Memorial."
"Hartford... the hospital?"
"Yes." He turned again.
"But... why?"
"I cannot give you that information. I suggest that you simply write her a letter or give her a call at her house. She always returns her messages, eventually."
Michel scrawled an address and phone number that Rory already knew on the back of a business card with "Lorelai Gilmore, Owner and General Manager" on the front.
"Thank you," Rory mouthed, her beating heart getting in the way of her voice box.
She walked out of the Dragonfly and got back into her car. She leaned her face down on the steering wheel and sobbed. The sound of her horn echoed through the parking lot, drowning out the sounds of her cries.