The lunch rush had ended and Luke was bussing tables.
He knew he needed to check supplies in the back, make sure everything was stocked up before the Friday dinner rush, especially since Lane wasn't coming in.
The door jingled open then and he turned to see Mrs. Kim striding toward him. It was almost imperceptible, but Luke caught the glance she cast around the room, as well as her subsequent look of disappointment at not seeing Lane.
"Mrs. Kim," greeted Luke, putting down some dishes. "Lane has the evening off."
Mrs. Kim drew herself up proudly, "I did not come to see Lane. I came to see you."
Luke lifted his brows and crossed his arms, "Oh? Well, what can I do for you then?"
"My delivery man is out sick."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."
"And Kirk, who is my stand by, has not returned my calls."
"Yeah, can't help you there. He hasn't been in today."
"I'm would like to ask you to make an important delivery for me."
"Well... I would be glad to help you out, but Lane's off tonight, so I have to be here. Sorry."
"I will pay you my going rate which is quite generous," she negotiated.
"Well, that's nice of you..."
"You have a clean truck and are strong. You are also very reliable."
Luke sighed.
"What is it you need delivered?"
"Two boxes of Depression Glass vases and candle sticks I've been collecting for Lorelai. They areto go to The Dragonfly. She wanted them as soon as possible, and I just found the last piece for her yesterday. They are carefully bubble wrapped and ready to go. I cannot get a hold of her, though."
"Yeah, she's been pretty busy," nodded Luke.
"So, you will do it?" asked Mrs. Kim.
"Tell you what," began Luke. "I'll come over in half an hour to pick the boxes up, but I won't be able to take them to the Inn until after I close tonight. I'm sure someone will be around. They're working all hours over there."
What-the-hell, it wasn't a big deal.
"I am grateful to you," said Mrs. Kim. "For everything you have done," she added the last pointedly.
"Mrs. Kim, Lane is doing very well. She's got herself a safe place to live and she's the best worker I've ever had."
Mrs. Kim looked down and nodded her acknowledgment. It was too painful to think on or even to admit to with anything as emotionally direct as eye contact.
"I'll be at the house all afternoon," she said and turned to go.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Half an hour later Luke was rummaging around in the garage where he stored his wood working tools and other odds and ends left over from his father's life. Trying to find a couple of old furniture pads he knows are here somewhere. He wanted to pack Lorelai's antique glass collection very carefully before driving out to The Dragonfly later that evening. But he's not having any luck.
Finally he sat down on a crate in defeat. He looked around the old place and remembered then countless hours there with his dad. The memories always came back when he spent too much time here. The sawdust smell as they worked on projects. His dad had been a popular amateur carpenter. And the taste of ginger ale. They always drank ginger ale when they worked together.
"Oh Luke, hello. Just checking to make sure it was you."
Luke stood up, "Hello, Mrs. Cassinni, I hope I didn't scare you."
"No, not at all," she smiled from the doorway.
"Is everything okay with the house?" he asked her.
Luke had been renting the Danes' family home to Mrs. Cassinni since the year after his dad had died and he had moved into the office over the diner.
"Oh, everything's just fine, Luke, since you fixed the fireplace flue."
"Good, good."
"Oh, by the way, I'm glad you're here. I found something the other day I want to give you. I don't know if you've ever seen it before."
She walked over to the stack of her boxes in the corner.
She crossed back to him and handed him a black and white photograph then. He caught his breath as he looked down. It was of his parents. He didn't have a lot of pictures of his mother in particular, she'd died when he was eleven, and those he did have, well he hadn't really looked at in probably the last dozen years or so.
"Oh, wow," he said.
"I know," smiled Mrs. Cassinni. "She was queen of this town, Anne Elliot. So beautiful, and funny too. Oh, I was jealous of her! Every boy in this town tried to date her at one time or another. Taylor Doose followed her around like a pathetic pup. And look at your dad there, Luke. Probably about seventeen when this picture was taken."
"What are they dressed up for?" he asked.
"Oh, it must have been some high school dance or other. I'm not sure. You keep it, Luke. I was sorting out all these old pictures the other day, labeling them and such. They'll go to the historical society when I'm gone."
"Thank you, Mrs. Cassinni."
"And, listen here, young man. You go to the photo shop and you get two copies of that picture made, one for Liz and one for Jess, and then get some nice frames for them and then send them off to them. No excuses. Your mother would have liked that."
"Young man? I'll be forty this fall," he smiled at her.
"Lucas Elliot Danes, you could be sixty this fall and you'd still be a young man to me," she told him curtly, "Now, mind me."
"Yes, Ma'am." he said.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Luke drove the truck around the square and headed to Kim's Antiques, thinking about the picture he'd just tucked safely into the glove box. He knew they'd loved each other, enough people had told him so through the years. And he thinks he remembers them happy. But it's so hard to actually remember them together because his father had lived so much longer.
He only had fleeting memories of his mom, smiling or making a dress for Liz. He did remember one hot afternoon when they all washed the car together as a family. They had been laughing. But anything else... And then he felt the familiar twang of guilt when he couldn't remember more.
He hadn't thought about that. About that kind of family life in a very long time. It had always hurt before. Now, it sort of filled him with a kind of longing. Longing for that feeling you get at night when you know your loved ones are all sleeping safely under the same roof.
He was still caught up in this revery when he walked through the door of Kim's Antiques.
His father had always said that he'd had to pursue his mother. Luke didn't really know the particulars of their courtship, maybe he'd ask Liz sometime. He knew that his mother had been popular and pretty and his dad reticent.
But it had been the best thing he'd ever done. No regrets ever about taking that chance, his father told Luke many years after her death, when they'd finally been able to talk about it a little.
"Hello, Luke."
Luke looked up, startled.
"Nicole..."
"Didn't mean to scare you," she laughed a little.
"Oh no, you didn't," he said.
"Umm Hmm," she smiled. "So you weren't looking for me then?" she asked.
"No. Should I have been?"
"I just dropped the divorce papers by the diner for you. Just sign and put them in registered mail and we'll let the great state of Connecticut take it from there."
"Okay. Thanks."
The most awkward silence Luke had ever encountered then ensued.
"So, how have you been?"
"Oh, you know, crying in my beer night after night," she joked.
"You don't like beer." he countered.
"No, I don't."
"Well, Miss Leahy, I will need to do a little further research to properly appraise these bar glasses," interrupted Mrs. Kim as she walked back into the room. "Oh, hello Luke, I will be right with you. I am branching out into estate jewelry now. In that case over there. You go look while you wait."
Luke dutifully walked over and pretended to browse, but it seemed like the churning in his stomach was causing a fog to form over his eyes. He was completely unable to focus.
So he eavesdropped instead.
"Of course old glass like this is always more valuable if you have a complete set," continued Mrs. Kim.
Nicole nodded, "Yes, but my client only has five. So how long before I can expect the appraisal?"
"One week and I will have it ready," stated Mrs. Kim.
"All right, thank you."
And then suddenly Nicole was next to Luke and gazing down into the case as well, "Ooo, pretty. Shopping for Lorelai?" she asked, the line between sarcasm and playfulness pretty blurry.
"What? No," said Luke. "Are you in town for Taylor?"
"Well, yes. I had some papers for him, and then the divorce papers for you. I also needed to have some bar glasses appraised for a client."
Luke nodded, "One stop shopping in Stars' Hollow, then."
Another pause.
"You don't know, do you?" she finally asked thoughtfully.
"Don't know what?" he asked.
"Hmm... I would have thought Lorelai would have told you."
"Told me what?" Luke asked curiously.
"I'm representing her father's cousin, Marilyn Baines. She is contesting Lorelai Gilmore's will."
"What? What could she want in Lorelai's will?"
"No, Luke," smiled Nicole. "Lorelai senior, the recently departed, philanthropic matriarch of Hartford."
"Oh, I didn't know her name was Lorelai too. Uh yeah, actually, Lorelai's mother mentioned that."
"Met the family, have you? That's a pretty serious step."
"It wasn't like that."
"Well, I hope it won't make things awkward for you."
"I don't see how."
"Okay. Well then, good," she smiled. "Take care, Luke."
She reached over and kissed him on the cheek then, "Good bye."
"Bye."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was evening, the sun just set when it all began.
And when Lorelai looked back on this particular Friday evening, much later, she blamed it all on two things: The Full Moon and Walking Through the Front Door in the First Place.
If there had only been cloud cover that night; if only she and Lane had played hooky from dinner and gone to see a movie. If only...
But, of course, that wasn't how things played out.
Dammit.
And so Lorelai and Lane stood at the front entry of the Gilmore home waiting for the maid to answer the door.
"It's bigger than I imagined," said Lane a little nervously.
"Don't worry, once we get inside, it will feel suffocatingly small," joked Lorelai and then added a sympathetic, "Don't worry, it's just dinner."
Lane nodded as the maid opened the door for them. Lorelai was pleasantly surprised that it was the same maid she had seen last week, before ruefully remembering that her mother hadn't been home in the meantime to fire her.
"Hello...Beatrice, right?"
The woman nodded.
"Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore are still upstairs," she said as she took their coats.
"That's fine, we'll just wait in the living room. Come on, Lane," said Lorelai as she walked through to the bar, "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"
"Water?"
Lane's voice suddenly sounded a little squeakier than she remembered it having done before.
Lorelai smiled, "Come on, hun, live it up! How about sparkling water with a twist of lemon?"
"Okay."
"Rory should be here soon," she comforted as she handed Lane a drink.
"Right."
"So," Lorelai began as she sat next to Lane on the settle with her gin and tonic in hand, "How's apartment life?"
"It's good," nodded Lane. "And thank you so much, by the way, for the boxes of towels and dishes and stuff. I hate being a charity case, but you really saved us."
"Lane, honey, we are all in need sometimes. This is what we do for each other."
"Well, I just wanted to thank you again."
Lorelai smiled, "And other than that? How's living with the guys going?"
"They are actually really sweet," said Lane. "But you know that thing about the toilet seat they always joke about on tv shows?"
Lorelai nodded.
"All true. I've officially had a middle-of-the-night, cold-water, tushy-dunking three times in a row now," Lane frowned.
"Huh. You would think you would learn after the second."
"Yeah, I know," Lane furrowed her brow at this mystery.
"Listen, Lane. I want you to know that at some point I will find an event at the Inn to hire the band for."
"Oh, Lorelai! That would be great!"
"I thought about you guys for the opening..."
"Oh no, that's okay. There'll be older people there. I totally understand. You need a jazz combo for that. Some little group that uses a wire brush on the drums and sings 'Moonlight in Vermont.'"
"Exactly," nodded Lorelai. "But there'll be something at some point."
And then the door bell rang.
"I wonder where Emily and Richard are?" mused Lorelai as she watched Beatrice cross to answer it.
She was then surprised to see an elegant older couple walk into the room then.
It took a minute before she recognized Floyd Stiles, and then another to deduce in her Sherlockian way that the lady must be Jason's mother.
Wait a minute---What the hell were Jason's parents doing here?
"You must be Lorelai," smiled the lady as she crossed in. She was dressed in a tailored black suit, her iron gray hair cut tastefully short.
Lorelai stood to shake her hand, "Well, yes that would be me."
"I am Carol Stiles and this is Floyd. You are just as beautiful as Jason said."
"Oh, well that was very nice of Jason..."
They know.
"Well, please sit down. I don't know what is keeping my parents upstairs. Let me get you a drink, though, while we wait."
"I like to make them myself," said Floyd.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, it's just one of Floyd's little quirks. He has to pour his own cocktails. Heaven forbid there be too much vermouth. Right, Floyd?"
"Oh, okay, help yourself..."
Lorelai sat again as Floyd crossed to the bar.
"Oh, Carol, Floyd, this is Lane Kim, a very dear friend of the family."
"Well, hello there, Lane." said Carol.
"Hello."
The doorbell rang once more after this sparkling exchange, and this time Beatrice ushered in Rory.
"Hey, everyone!"
Rory was clearly surprised to see the older couple, not to mention Lane.
"Floyd and Carol Stiles, this is my daughter Rory."
"How do you do?" said Rory as she shook hands with Carol.
"Would you like a cocktail?" asked Floyd as he peered into the ice bucket.
Rory shot Lorelai a bemused look, "Um, no thank you, Floyd."
"Floyd, Rory is the one at Yale," Carol told him.
"Oh," he said as he began to work the shaker.
"Jason says you're a little genius, Rory."
"Oh? Well, that's very nice of him."
Rory crossed to sit next to Lane.
Let the small talk begin, thought Lorelai, hoping her grimace looked more grin-like from the outside. Where-the-hell were her parents? Then the conversation immediately broke down by generation.
"So, Lorelai, Jason tells me you are renovating an old Inn," began Carol, as she accepted a cocktail from Floyd who was planting himself next to her.
"Yes, The Dragonfly," smiled Lorelai politely.
"I'm a surprise," said Lane to Rory.
"I'm really glad to see you," Rory smiled at her friend. "How're your roomies?"
"Incapable of flushing."
"Oh! Sorry."
"Bit risky starting a country Inn, isn't it?" .
"Well, we have an excellent flow of tourists through Stars' Hollow, Floyd," responded Lorelai.
"How about your roomies?" returned Lane to Rory, "Tanna finished the Borg Epic yet?"
"Yeah, but Paris wrote a scathing review and posted it."
"Ooo, mean."
"What period is the Inn, Lorelai?" asked Carol
"Actually, it dates to the Revolution so not a piece of gingerbread in sight! Upstanding American Farmhouse is what I would call it."
"Oh, you must be having a ball decorating it." remarked Carol.
"Did she get any other reviews?" Lane asked Rory.
"Oh yeah, fifteen."
"Wow, what did they say?"
"Update soon."
"All of them?"
"Yeah."
"Bummer."
"Yeah," agreed Rory.
"Jason says that these small Inns are actually excellent investments, Floyd." said Carol.
"Well, the young do feel expert in everything, don't they?" returned Floyd without emotion.
Lorelai jumped in here,"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go up and see what's keeping Richard and Emily."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Lorelai had stepped into the entry hall on her way to the stairs when she heard the doorbell ring yet again.
She waved Beatrice off and headed over herself to answer it herself.
She opened the door to Jason with a frown.
"Ooo... You do not look good," he said by way of greeting.
"Really Jason? Are you quite certain that's what you want to say? Or are you perhaps just trying out your Errol Flynn impression? Because I've got to say, right off the top of my head, that it sucks."
"Okay, I'm sensing a problem."
"You parents are here."
He nodded as if this were no great surprise.
"Your parents."
He nodded again.
"Jason, your parents are here for dinner and clearly they are aware of us," Lorelai said in exasperation.
"Yes, that's right. But they know not to say anything to your parents," he comforted.
"Jason, I thought we agreed not to tell anyone."
"Lorelai, I am no good at keeping secrets, not this kind anyway. I told you that. My mother kind of figured it out and I couldn't lie to her when she confronted me, now could I?"
"Jason, if my parents find out that everyone knew before them, the earth will shake. Do you understand? My dead ancestors would arise, walk the earth, and sail the Mayflower right back to England to get away from them!"
"So, this isn't good then?"
Lorelai gritted her teeth and looked at him. He looked as much like a bereft puppy as any humanpossibly could and yet, curiously, this was not pulling her heartstrings the way it usually did when he screwed up.
"I assumed perhaps that when your mother invited my parents, that you must have told them some how. And it's been so hard to talk to you. Whenever I call, you're always in a hurry to do something for the Inn, or to get back to Emily."
Lorelai sighed. He was right. She knew he was right. Why was she so pissed?
"They do know," she finally said.
"What? Then why am I in trouble? If you told them, why..." Jason asked, justifiably upset.
"Because you didn't know they knew," said Lorelai lamely. "And... and, I didn't tell them... It turns out Emily knew all along, anyway..."
Augh, I give up.
"Well, that's good, right?" Jason smiled like he'd just evaded the firing squad. "So, what's the problem?"
"I don't know," she groused stubbornly.
"Well, forget it then," Jason stepped over the threshold and quickly kissed her cheek.
"Jason! Is that you?" They heard Carol call from the living room.
"Yes, Mother!" Jason called back, then turned back to Lorelai, "Shall we go in?"
"Um, no. Richard and Emily haven't been down yet, I was just going up to check on them."
Why did she suddenly feel so tired and utterly defeated?
Jason looked up the stairs, "That doesn't seem like them."
"I know," she agreed. "You go on in. I'll be back in a minute."
A few moments later, Lorelai stood in front of her parents' bedroom door. It was uncharacteristically shut.
She knocked, "Mom, we're all downstairs waiting for you! Time for happy family dinner!"
No response.
She knocked again. What's the deal here? she wondered, as she turned the knob, and steppedover the threshold.
The room was dimly lit.
"Mom?"
Maybe they were taking a nap... she looked over...
Oh, no.
No. No. No.
And, oh shit!
The next clear thought she had occurred as she stood on the landing back outside the bedroom, the door closed firmly behind her....
It was, Breathe, Lorelai, or you're gonna pass out.
A few moments must have passed because when she turned her head at a small noise, she saw Emily standing beside her smiling.
"Oh, Jeez, Mom!" Lorelai grabbed at her heart. "You scared me..."
"Well, you didn't do wonders for your father and I a moment ago either..."
"Well, sorry about that."
She was having difficulty meeting her mother's gaze, so she looked down.
Emily's feet were bare.
She tried to remember the last time she had seen her mother's feet bare. Must have been ages ago. They were pretty good looking feet for a lady her age, and she actually kinda liked that color nail polish, hmm... wonder what it's called...?
"Lorelai, look at me," Emily interrupted her inner babble.
Lorelai looked up.
Surprisingly Emily only looked amused.
"You should knock before entering an occupied bedroom, Lorelai. Where are your manners?"
"I did knock. But there was no answer. And my manners? What about yours? You've got guests down there, lady, and you're up here doing... up here doing..."
"Yes?" said Emily with an arched brow.
Dad
"Well, whatever it was has blinded me! And, oh-by-the-way, has my hair gone instantly white too? Because I swear to God, Mom..."
"Oh, Lorelai, grow up. Go down to our guests. Your father and I will be down in a moment."
"Uh, Mom?" said Lorelai as she glanced down at Emily's Chanel-styled St. John knit.
"What is it, Lorelai?" asked Emily, slightly irritated now.
"You might want to get a little practice in on that buttoning thing before you come down."
Emily glanced down at her askew jacket and blushed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Hey, Floyd, make me a double, will ya?" called Lorelai as she came back into the living room.
Rory looked up at her mother curiously. In fact, everyone seemed to be looking at her a bit oddly.
"Don't mind me, everyone! Just a temporary case of hysteria, it'll all be over soon," she smiled as she accepted a martini from Floyd then downed most of it.
"Lorelai has the best sense of humor," Jason said to his mother.
It sounds like he's trying to sell her a used car.
"So Mom, are Grandma and Grandpa coming down?" asked Rory.
"Well, yes. Yes, they are, Rory. They just had a small problem with some... buttons. But, they'll have it taken care of soon, I'm sure."
Smooth.
She took another gulp.
"Wow, Floyd, I can certainly see why you like to make your own cocktails. Is there any vermouth in here at all?"
"Just a breath," disclosed Floyd.
"Hello, everyone, sorry to have kept you waiting, we've just had the worst problem with Richard's shoes," smiled Emily graciously as she swept in.
"Not buttons, Emily?" asked Carol, a little confused.
"Buttons? Where did you get a crazy idea like that?" asked Emily.
Lorelai polished off the martini completely then.
"I see that you all have drinks and are getting cozy. I'm so glad."
She's unflappable, thought Lorelai, you have to admire that.
"Floyd, I'd simply adore one of your legendary martinis, if you'll be a dear and pour me one!" Emily smiled in his direction.
"Coming right up."
"I'll check on dinner as soon as Richard is down."
"Did I just hear my name spoken by a sultry red head?" asked Richard as he strode into the roomsmiling. "Carol, lovely to see you again. Rory, Lane, glad you could both be here. Jason, is Floyd over there making a batch of his martinis?"
"Well, yes he is, Richard," replied Jason, wondering why his partner wasn't wearing a tie.
"I'd love to have one," said Richard rubbing his hands together greedily.
"Get in line, Richard," said Emily.
And they all laughed.
Except Lorelai.
I am going crazy, she thought.
And her father was avoiding contact with her, including that of the eye variety.
She was suddenly deeply grateful for this.
"How are your shoes, Richard?" asked Carol.
"My shoes? Well, they are just fine, Carol, thank you for asking," said Richard looking at her like she was a little off her rocker.
"Look, Richard, Floyd has finished the martinis," interrupted Emily hastily. "Now, why don't you sit and chat with our guests while I go check on dinner."
Lorelai stood at the back of the room and watched for awhile then.
She watched Floyd and Richard discuss business.
She watched Emily come back in to sit with Carol.
She watched Jason ask Rory about Yale.
She listened as Carol complimented Emily on the house and landscaping.
She watched again when Carol pulled out pictures of her new grandson in California and passed them around for all to coo over.
And then, of course, there was dinner, or the facade that was dinner.
Light, polite banter. Talk of the club and upcoming events. Four kinds of wine, one with each course.
She looked at her parents at the head and foot of the table then.
They were always sitting in these exact positions whenever she thought of them. She caught them then glancing at each other again, as they had more than once that night.
They love each other, she thought, and a warm feeling flowed through her at that. They love each other and they love this life.
And then Lorelai looked across at Jason, who was laughing with his mother. And she realized thathe loved this life too.
And then she caught her mother looking at her, as if to say, 'Here it is, Lorelai. For you.'
She met her gaze and then... it all suddenly dawned on her.
Her mother had indeed done this for her!
She was having this family dinner for all of them because she wanted them all to be a family.
Oh, God, Emily was approving... Emily was encouraging... Emily thinks that Jason and I...
Oh, no, no, no!
"Excuse me," said Lorelai and she got up and hurried into her father's study.
She tried to breathe but all she could think was, I am beneath contemptible.
She paced back and forth before the leather sofa.
She'd only gone out with Jason in the first place to piss Emily off. Plain and simple. She'd been angry and had acted like a child.
Like some stupid frickin' teenager mouthing off or slamming a bedroom door. Emily was right. She was still sixteen. Especially in this house. If someone said 'white', she wanted to scream 'black!' just to show them that she could.
And then it had been fun with Jason.
Sneaky adult fun. But fun nevertheless.
But this was not what she wanted for the long term. She didn't want four different wines, and the club. She didn't want events. She wanted Stars' Hollow, and The Inn, and Sookie, and Luke and...
Oh, crap, I have screwed up!
Lorelai lifted her hands and pressed them to her temples.
"Lorelai?" she saw her father knock and enter at once. "Are you all right?"
"Could I have a scotch?" she asked him.
He looked at her a moment, then closed the door behind him and walked over to the small bar beside the desk and poured her a drink.
She accepted in gratefully and took a big gulp.
"Loreali, what is the matter with you? Your mother planned this beautiful dinner for you. To welcome the Stiles, to show you that we approve."
"Do you, Dad? Do you approve?" asked Lorelai, bitterness edging into her voice.
Sixteen again.
"Well, yes, Lorelai, I do. You know I think highly of Jason. And this romance of yours seems to have raised your mother's opinion of him as well. Though, I must say it was a mite sneaky of you to keep it from us for so long. But, we thought this would make you happy."
"Happy? Approve?" Lorelai repeated stupidly. "I'm glad you are happy and approving, Dad. Because I'm not!"
"You're not what? Lorelai, make sense!"
"Dad, I don't want to marry Jason!"
"Oh." Richard looked a little taken aback.
And then, of course, either because of the full moon or just because she walked through the front door in the first place, Jason walked into the room.
"Lorelai, your Mom is having dessert served. She wants you to come and see it before it is sliced. It's a three-tiered chocolate cake. Looks just like a little wedding cake. Mom thinks it's adorable. Are you trying to give Lorelai and I a hint of some kind, Richard?" asked Jason smiling.
Why-the-hell-not? he mused happily. Why not think about it? Lorelai is great. Both families approve...
"Jason," began Richard solemnly (or was it disappointment? Lorelai wasn't sure)...
And then Lorelai had to stop her father, stop him from trying to clean her mess. She would never cease to disappoint him in life, this she knows, but she can at least show him that she is able to clean up her own mess when she has to.
"Jason," Lorelai cut Richard off. "You need to know now, I think, that I don't really see us married in the future."
"Oh. Okay..."
Not what he was expecting.
"Apparently everyone has this idea... I mean the cake and the dinner... and, poor Lane is here too..."
"Lorelai?..."
Just then Floyd poked his head into the study.
"The women are going on about this damn cake out here! Get back in here so we can get to the brandy, Richard."
"Jason," Lorelai felt her heart sink, "this is not going to work out..."
"Lorelai, just because your mother got a cake..." Jason was starting to panic a little.
"No, Jason it's not the cake, it's not the dinner, it's me, it's this..." and Lorelai impotently gestured around the room. "... It's Hartford, and the club, and four frickin' kinds of wine...!"
She was having trouble breathing now, and was pretty sure her that her cheeks were damp too.
"Mom? Are you coming?" Rory poked her head in then too.
"Jason, what is going on here?" asked Floyd.
Jason ignored them, "Lorelai, we can do whatever you want, we don't have to go the club, you don't have to eat the cake..."
"But you do, Jason. Want to eat the cake, I mean. You want the club and the cake. At least I think you do. This is the life you want."
"Lorelai, I don't even like chocolate very much..." Jason tried.
"Jason, I kissed Luke! Got it? I kissed him! I thought he was just my friend, but I just don't know anymore. I mean, he wears flannel and doesn't shave, and he doesn't even ever leave town. Except to go on frickin' cruises, and just look how that turned out! Oh God, Jason, I am so sorry! But, I kissed Luke, and we need to stop seeing each other. I don't know how to make you understand. I am low. I am dreadfully, horribly low, and you should be glad to be rid of me..."
They all stood aghast and frozen by this.
"Mom..." Rory gently broke the silence then.
But this only served to prompt her into action. Lorelai pushed passed them all and ran out into the hall where she met Emily who was waiting with her coat and purse and a triumphant smile on her face.
Lorelai met her gaze for one fleeting moment before grabbing them and hurrying out into the night.