Chapter 3: Messages
I tried to not just lay around the house all week waiting for his call. I desperately wanted to, but I also didn't want to be that kind of girl. I could sense where this was going. I was young and inexperienced in the matters of the heart, but I wasn't dumb. The nights were staying warmer so I spent a lot of time out and about town, just me and my camera. Looking back at those pictures, they weren't very good. My mind was elsewhere, but the photography was cathartic.
Our paths rarely crossed at school, just because we were in different grades and had different schedules. Stars Hollow High was a small school, but still big enough for someone to be a wallflower if they wanted to. I was worried about what I was getting myself into. I mean, Luke seemed like a nice guy and all, but I wasn't really sure he was my type. Anytime I did see Luke at school he always had girls fawning all over him. I couldn't tell whether he was a jock for the popularity of it or just because he really enjoyed it. And Butch? Seriously, who thought that was a good idea?
I was intrigued by his reaction to what his uncle had said about his mother. His mom had died shortly before my dad and I moved to Stars Hollow. I remember people at school talking about it. I remember thinking that Luke and his sister were actually pretty lucky. At least they had known their mom. My mom had walked out on me and my father when I was two. I was always jealous of the kids who's moms came in to volunteer at school or took them shopping in Hartford on the weekends. I loved my dad, he was my life, my biggest role model, but he couldn't be a mother. I was beginning to sense that Luke felt the same way. I could tell that he loved his father. Why else would he spend every spare moment working at the store? But the way he responded to the comment about his mom the other day really showed me that he still had some very strong feelings of loss and even anger.
But then, maybe I was getting ahead of myself.
Thursday night I came home to find a message by the phone. Dad had scrawled the details of the party on the back of an envelope. He was asleep in front of the TV with the newspaper spread out across his lap. I shook his shoulder gently.
"Dad...Dad...DAD"
He finally sputtered awake. "Mwa...huh...Rachel? Oh, hi sweetie."
I held up the message. "When did he call?"
"Mmm...around seven, I think."
"I can't believe you talked to him. Why didn't you just take down his number?"
He narrowed his eyes and gave me one of his patented crooked smiles. "Because if I did that, you would somehow manage to talk yourself out of calling him back. And this way, I get to know what you're up to."
I tried to pout, just for effect, but I knew he was right. "Thanks Dad," I whispered and kissed him goodnight.
