Chapter 9
"Too many fwowers." Lyle passes judgment on the house. His innocence is enough to cut through my internal tension.
"Yes, there are a lot of flowers."
"Smells funny…like fwowers…lots and lotsa fwowers."
I reflect on the fact that there are many flowers here because of my mother's death. Funny how everything seems to lead back to that. I have Lyle because I met Russ when I ran away when my mother died. What a confusing sentence. But everything is like that. Everything eventually leads back to the fact that Lorelai is dead. Dead, dead, dead.
Suddenly I find myself in a cemetery. I'm kneeling in front of a headstone, old and faded. I gently run my hands over the worn inscription. Lorelai Victoria Gilmore. She's dead. Dead, dead, dead.
"MOMMY!" I wake up to my son's urgent scream. I look around the room, disoriented, until I recall that I'm in what used to be my mother's room. It has been redecorated with my things, but I still feel that it is her room.
"What's wrong, Ly?" His face is streaked with tears, and he's holding onto his stuffed elephant too tightly.
"Bad dream." His nose is stuffed and his breath is choppy.
"What was it about?" It took me awhile, but I've fallen into the whole mommy role so much that this is completely natural.
"I want Daddy." This brings me up short. I can't think of the proper response to this. Thankfully Lyle continues, unaided. "I miss him so much."
I gather Lyle into my arms, holding him tight. "I'm so sorry, hun. I know how you feel." I feel my son start crying again, and I can't help but break down as well.
We lay crying quietly, until we lull ourselves back to sleep.
It's been almost a month since Rory came back. Three weeks since they moved back into the Gilmore house. Thankfully, I've managed to avoid too much interaction with her, limiting myself to giving her coffee, and taking their orders. Okay, so I helped them move in, and I've been helping make the house livable again, but I'm acting mostly as an assistant to Luke.
So I've only managed to avoid meaningful interaction with Rory. Lyle has taken to following me around whenever I'm at his house. Not that I don't like the kid, but I've never had much interactions with kids. I can't establish common ground with them – I don't think Rory would appreciate it if I offered Lyle a cigarette.
But at least I've managed to avoid Rory. Yes, I know, I've said that three times now, but it's important. Avoiding her means that I'm protecting myself from the inevitable hurt feelings that come with her rejecting me. Cause she will. No doubt about it. And when she does, that's eight years of my life down the drain, waiting for her in this one horse town with no opportunities for advancement. Eight goddamn years.
I can't believe that I've been back a month. It's gone by so fast. Carrie and Matt came down and celebrated Lyle's birthday with us. We went to Luke's for supper and birthday cake. I almost choked when I saw what Jess bought him – a Metallica CD. Of all the things a six year old normally wants, that's not on the list but it quickly became Lyle's favorite gift.
Jess. He's the reason behind my mid-morning walk to Luke's. Lyle is safely to school, finally starting to adjust to kindergarten and I'm free for the rest of the day.
Anyway…
Don't think I haven't noticed that Jess is avoiding me. Not in the least. It's kind of hard not to notice when he walks out of a room once he notices I'm in it. No, subtlety is definitely not one of Jess' strong suits. He's mysterious, yes, but not subtle.
I'm on my way to Luke's to confront Jess. We need to get it all out in the open. I can't stand not having him in my life. Especially when he's so close.
A part of me can't believe that I'm obsessing over Jess when Russell hasn't been dead two months. But the logical part of me rationalizes it, saying that Jess and I have unfinished history and that I've been grieving for Russ for the better part of a year.
I'm working in the diner. Well, actually working is probably an exaggeration seeing as how there is no one in the diner right now. So technically what I'm doing is typing furiously on my laptop under the pretense of looking after the diner.
The bell above the door jingles and I jump up, badly startled. I see Rory and my head whips around. "Caesar, I'm taking a break!" I yell before practically running up the stairs. I know, I know, it's unbelievably immature the way I'm acting, but I can't help it. Avoidance has worked well for me in the past.
Apparently it won't work this time. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and Rory opens the door to find me lounging on Luke's couch, downing a beer.
"You forgot this." I look up and see Rory extending my laptop towards me, a smirk firmly on her face and right eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. Right. Thanks." Rory just stands there, obviously uncertain as to what exactly to say. Finally she bites the bullet.
"Jess, you're twenty-eight years old. You can't keep up the avoidance scheme forever. Can't we just talk?" God, she makes it sound so simple. Like she doesn't know that whatever she's going to say, however she's gently she's going to put it, is going to break my heart.
Sullenly, I don't say anything. We may end up having this conversation, but only with me kicking and screaming. Figuratively.
"Fine I'll talk." Déjà vu. She sits down next to me, and opens her mouth a couple of times, but nothing comes out. Huh.
"Jess, can you please talk to me?!" Her plea sounds desperate, but I'm desperate too.
"Damn it Rory. What do you want me to say?" She flinches at my words, but you can tell that she knew it was coming.
"I want you to tell me why you're avoiding me!" Her voice has risen to a semi-shout.
"Because."
"Because?!? That's all you've got?" Oh boy, now she's angry. "After all these years, all you've got for me is because? Goddamn it Jess. I'm not asking why you left. I'm not asking why you came back. I'm not asking those questions Jess. All I want to know is why you're avoiding me. Is that so hard to tell me?"
"God, Rory. Everything will always come back to that, won't it? I left you once, so no matter what, that's always going to be the trump card that you bring out to win the fights. I needed to get to know my father. Is that such a crime? As for why I came back; I came back for you; because I loved you. I missed you by two goddamn fucking hours. I was worried about you, but by the time I got here, you were gone. I couldn't for the life of me figure out where you went. So I waited. I waited eight years. And when you come back, you'd been married, widowed and have a kid. So now I've been avoiding you because I don't want to get hurt. I've waited for eight years, and now there's no place for me in your life. I've fucked up again. Miscalculated. I want you and I can't have you-"
Before I know what's happening, her lips are pressed to mine. It isn't a tender kiss, but full of passion and anger. Briefly I protest against it, but quickly I surrender. The feel of her lips against mine is so intoxicating, and it's been so long, that even though I know this will have dire repercussions, I let it continue.
As quickly as it began, it ends. She pulls away, and for a fleeting moment we look into each others eyes. Hers are clouded with passion, but as that clears, they become confused and she has this lost look about her. She stands up, and runs out of the apartment with barely a backward glance.
Fuck. I need a cigarette.
AN: Well, I don't know about you, but I thought we needed a little tension and a little action. Now this will take me a couple of chapters to resolve. It gives me incentive to keep writing.