For cryin' out loud, what now?
A guy really needs to complete a certain number of REM cycles in order to be at peak operating condition by morning.
He had carefully calculated the necessary number by doing extensive research online at the library, so he'd know just when he needed to be asleep...
And everyone around here always thought he was crazy.
Didn't have a steady job... Lived with his mother... blah, blah, blah...
But he knew to the contrary.
He knew he was a good son.
He had a girlfriend now.
Things were looking up.
And soon, if he just got the necessary amount of sleep, he'd have a new career as well.
But no.
Because there he was rounding the drive in his green truck. Like he owned the world. Like anyone who never played sports because of certain extenuating circumstances just weren't good enough.
Just ignore him.
Roll over, restart the relaxation tape on the walkman.
Get to sleep and it will all be good in the morning.
For tomorrow life would begin anew...
"Ouch!" he had to expel instead.
He pulled his earphones off just in time to hear the beginning of a rant. The sort of rant he had been hearing on a daily basis now for years....
"Damn it!" cursed Luke. "Who's there? I almost dropped this box... I swear to God.... Kirk?! What-the-hell are you doing here? And why on earth are you in a sleeping bag?"
"I was trying to sleep until you stepped on me," complained Kirk, as he sat up and rubbed his thigh.
"Kirk! What are you doing here?" repeated Luke as he tried to secure his hold on the box.
"I want to be first in line tomorrow morning. But I need my sleep..."
"First in line?"
"Yes."
Ah, Jeez, you know you're gonna ask and regret it, Danes, so just get it over with.
"First in line for what, Kirk?"
"The interview."
"Spit it out, Kirk, this box is heavy," growled Luke.
"Tomorrow morning at eight thirty, Michel begins conducting interviews for the housekeeper position. It behooves me to stand out. To show my aggressiveness. I did extensive research by watching 'The Apprentice' to prepare. I need my eagerness for this job to be clear so I can rise above the competition. The Donald says attitude is important. So, I am sleeping over on the porch here so I will be first in line."
"You want to be the housekeeper at the Dragonfly?"
"Yes, I even brought my own feather duster."
Kirk held up said item to illustrate his point.
"Why are you here, Luke? You've got a job already," he asked suspiciously.
"I'm delivering some glass for Mrs. Kim."
"Well, Lorelai's inside," said Kirk as he began re-arranging his pillows and rewinding his relaxation tape.
"Lorelai is here?"
"Yes, she dragged herself in about an hour ago."
"Dragged?"
"Yes, she was noticeably sad and enervated. I suggested a tepid bath with Epsom salts, and one ofthe newer waterproof mascaras to her. My girlfriend uses them exclusively. Lulu's soap operas make her quite emotional."
"Lorelai was crying?" asked Luke, sorting out the important information as he looked around, "I didn't see her jeep when I drove up..."
"She came in a cab."
"She came in a cab?"
"Yes."
"She came in a cab to the Inn?"
"Yes."
"And she was crying?"
"Yes."
"Kirk, go pick up the other box in the back of my truck and bring it in...carefully," said Luke as he tried to peer through The Dragonfly's front window .
"What if I lose my place in line?"
"Kirk!"
After Kirk and Luke had safely set the boxes of Depression glass inside the Inn, and Kirk had returned to his sleeping bag on the porch, Luke began to search for Lorelai.
First he saw her coat thrown over the bannister.
Then finally he followed a trail consisting of two high-heeled shoes, a purse, assorted crumpled tissues, and a Twinkie wrapper before he actually found her.
She was sitting on the floor in the middle of the service pantry in stockinged feet.
There was an enormous mound of white towels in front of her. She was clearly trying to fold them without much luck. He watched for a moment as she wiped at her noisy nose then hiked a thinstrap of her little black dress back up on her shoulder in frustration.
"Darn, darn, darn, diddily-darn!" she said to herself, as she was yet again unable to get the corners of the little hand towel to meet up.
"Lorelai..." he said softly so as not to scare her.
"Luke!" she looked up at him and hitched out a little sob. "I am so glad you are here! Come help me, please. I am trying to fold these towels but something is wrong... They don't line up right."
She frowned and tried again.
Luke crossed over and sat next to her on the floor.
"Lorelai, are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm fine. I just really want to get these towels folded. They delivered them yesterday and I got them all washed. All one hundred and fifty, my friend. But, they must have shrunk or something, because I can't get them to fold straight," she sniffed and tried yet again to make her shaking hands do her bidding.
"Here, let me," he said.
Luke took the towel from her gently, folded it perfectly, and lay it on the floor between them.
Lorelai looked down at the towel dumbly.
"How did you do that?" she asked softly. "Because I have been trying for twenty minutes and I couldn't..."
Her voice then cracked into silence.
"Lorelai, what happened tonight?"
"Do you see the sweet little dragonfly we had embroidered on them, Luke?"
"Lorelai..."
"It cost a bit extra, but was completely worth it, I think. We'll have the same on the linen napkins for the dining room..."
"Lorelai..." Luke tried again, this time resting his hand on her forearm.
Lorelai lifted her head and looked at him, eyes streaming a mess down her face.
"Don't you think they're pretty, Luke?"
He sighed, "Yes, Lorelai, I do."
"It's so exciting. I mean towels kind of make it real, you know? A real Inn."
"Yep."
Lorelai looked down again, this time focusing on his hand resting on her arm. It felt warm and strong. But she was pretty sure that warm and strong were not what she deserved right now.
Luke just watched and waited.
And they sat like this for awhile.
"I found something out tonight, " she finally said, her head still down.
"What's that?"
She looked up at him seriously.
"Honesty is over-rated."
"Okay."
"As are Floyd's martinis."
Okay.
"And as for the honesty thing, not terribly original or profound, I'll admit that to you right away. But, you know, 'Damned if you do, Damned if you don't'... I mean my mother is the puppet mistress. She can work those strings, baby. She could write for Alias! But it doesn't matter if I blurt the truth in front of hundreds of witnesses, or even if my mother is Machiavelli incarnate. It still comes down to just two roads. Different paths leading to the same destination: Everyone getting hurt in the end. But, you know, you gotta be honest... in life, I mean... Otherwise, what is the point? What is the point then, Luke?"
"Did someone get hurt tonight?"
She looked away.
"Mom?!"
They both turned to look at the door just as Rory came in.
"Oh, thank God! Mom, I have been so worried about you!"
Lorelai got to her feet with Luke's help and rushed into her daughter's arms.
"Mommy really screwed up, Rory," she said into Rory's hair.
Rory stroked Lorelai's back, "No, you didn't. It's all right. You had to do what your heart toldyou. And, besides, you were set up."
Lorelai pulled away from Rory and looked at her, "It doesn't matter if I was. I shouldn't have done it that way. Not in the middle of a public hysterical babble..."
"Well, okay, maybe you have a point there," Rory had to admit.
"Oh, God, Rory!--Lane!–I forgot about Lane! I left her right there in the lion's den. They areprobably tearing at her bones now, fighting for every little sinew, gnawing for marrow..."
"For God's sake, Mom! I just took Lane home."
"Oh... good," breathed Lorelai. "Was she all right?"
"I think the flashbacks will decrease over time."
"Is anyone going to tell me what happened tonight?" demanded Luke from where he remained on the floor."
"Oh, gosh," laughed Lorelai a little ruefully. "Where to start? Oh, I know! How about when I walked in on my parents having sex?!"
"Mom!"
"I mean I always knew Emily was a little domineering..."
"I beg you! Stop now!" shouted Rory.
"Hmm... Not what Dad was saying..."
"I will leave," threatened Rory. "I will leave you alone in your crisis..."
Lorelai ignored her and looked at Luke now, "And then there is the part where I told everyone that I kissed you."
Luke looked back at her at this and Rory looked back and forth between them, trying to interpret the moment.
Lorelai assessed the moment herself, then turned back to Rory.
"Okay, not to wallow or dwell here people, but can either of you please explain to me why I am destined to publicly crush and humiliate every man who ever comes near me?"
Luke shifted uncomfortably at this.
"Mom, it's not like that..."
"Oh, but it is, my friend, it is. I am the Black Widow!"
"You are not the Black Widow."
Luke got up.
"All right, enough! Lorelai, go into the bathroom and wash your face. Rory, go into the kitchen and get out the coffee."
"I need to finish folding the towels..." protested Lorelai.
"No you don't," he said as he picked out a washcloth and hand towel from the pile and handed them to her.
Then he walked over to the pantry shelves and took down one of the many small baskets filled and ready for the rooms: 'Dragonfly face soap, shampoo, conditioner'... the usual junk. He handed one to her as well.
"But, Luke..."
"Now," he said.
And both women scurried.
"Bossy..." muttered Lorelai.
And so Luke did what he did best: He made coffee and prepared to listen.
As he and Rory sat at the kitchen table waiting for Lorelai, Rory tried to explain what had happened at the Gilmore home that night in a little more detail. It was a little hard to piece together but two things became clear from the narrative.
First, Lorelai had broken up with Jason in front of most of the assembly. And second, Emily had been trying to encourage the relationship with some sort of chocolate wedding cake which, of course, freaked Lorelai out.
"The thing I don't get, Luke, is why Grandma was suddenly so gung-ho. I mean she never liked Jason before," Rory added as a final note.
Luke felt a tightening in his chest at this.
How many near-weddings is it going to take for you, Danes? How many before you get off your ass?
Lorelai reappeared then, subdued, but with a clean face, and sat down at the table to gratefully accept the mug of coffee Luke placed in front of her.
After a few moments of silence, she began, "Rory, I'll have to talk to Jason. I have to make it allright... Apologize."
Rory nodded at this.
And they were quiet again.
"Lorelai, where is your car?" Luke asked, always more comfortable in the practical realm.
"It's in the Starbucks' parking lot in Hartford."
Luke lifted his brows, waiting for the explanation.
Lorelai sighed.
"I was upset. My hands were shaking and I'd had half a gin and tonic, a martini, and one sip each of four different wines... Oh, and a big shot of scotch. I didn't think I should drive. So I stopped and called a cab. His name was Frank."
"The cab?" asked Rory.
"The cab driver. He has four sisters and three daughters, so he really understands women."
"Yeah, driving a cab probably gives you great insight," mused Rory.
"He asked for my number," frowned Lorelai.
"For God's sake!" Luke let out.
"What?" asked Lorelai.
"Lorelai, are you sober now?" he asked.
"Unfortunately," she nodded.
"All right," he stood up. "Let's go get your car."
"But..." began Lorelai and then relented saw the look in Luke's eye, "Okay, okay..." she hastily agreed. "Rory where are you going?"
"Well, I have a study group tomorrow, but..."
"No. No. Go..."
"But..."
"No, honey, you've been in this enough. You go back to school and just be sure to drive safely,"said Lorelai taking her daughter in her arms.
"Okay, I love you."
"Love you too."
"Call me if you need me."
"I will." Lorelai assured her.
"Oh, and Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Why is Kirk in a sleeping bag on the porch?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Luke took a sidelong glance at Lorelai and sighed before returning his eyes to the road.
He couldn't quite sort out what all this meant.
Clearly the Gilmores were pushing Lorelai toward Jason. And, why not? He was rich and in business with her father. Just the right ingredients for a cozy inbred rich-people marriage.
Though he knew with certainty that wasn't what Lorelai wanted.
He had watched her struggle to earn her own spot in the world for years now. Sure, she bubbled and laughed along the surface but underneath he knew that her conviction for her own life was deep.
And it did not in any way revolve around Hartford society.
It revolved around creating a safe haven for Rory. It revolved around a completely different set of priorities than those established by her parents. And those priorities had more to do with hamburgers than caviar, or whatever-the-hell it was that they ate up there.
He sneaked another peek at her. She was staring at the road lost in thought. He could imagine that she was trying to phrase the apology to Jaosn, trying to figure out how to fix it with words.
She was always sure that she could fix things with words.
He had never been a word-guy. A rant-guy, sure. But not a thoughtful 'let's-share-with-words' kind of guy.
Which was why he was sitting here now, after all these years, waiting for a divorce to come through from a woman he'd never loved, knocking on forty, and with nothing to show for himself except one hastily grabbed kiss with the woman he had been wanting for years.
Oh shit. He had been wanting her for years.
He hadn't really pushed that thought to the front of his brain before and he didn'tmuch want to now.
Not now when everything was more uncertain than ever.
And later, as he followed her taillights back to Stars' Hollow and watched her jeep disappear past the diner and around the square, he felt himself lose grip of that one bit of certainty he'd had about himself.
About her.
And about ever reaching out for her... maybe at all.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Saturday morning was the usual rush at the diner. The usual irritations.
He was getting increasingly pissed with himself for looking up every frickin' time the door jingled.
Of course she wasn't coming in. He knew that.
He took a breath and tried to resign himself to it.
To his life as usual.
To just getting on with it. Maybe once the hot weather set in and the tourists turned back east to the water, he could take a little time and go to the cabin. He hadn't been there in over a year. Nicole had liked going to a nice ski lodge now and then, but a fishing cabin had not been her cup of tea.
But he was his own man, now. If he wanted to go to his cabin, he could. He could catch fish, then clean and eat them with no worries for anyone else's delicate sensibilities. He actually had a pretty good life, when he thought about it. A good business, a nice place to live. If he could just focus on work then everything else would evaporate.
At least that's what he was trying to convince himself of. He almost had too by the mid afternoon lull.
If only he hadn't looked up just in time to see the over-priced black foreign car drive into the square.
A moment later Jason walked in.
Luke eyed him from behind the counter.
Jason crossed over, "Two coffees to go, please."
Luke turned to fill the cups and then turned back.
Jason handed him a fifty dollar bill, "Keep the change," he said, looking Luke directly in the eye.
And then he left.