His parents had bought the cabin, just a single room at the time, not long after they were married. They'd settled quickly into Stars Hollow, before opening the hardware store, then had driven out every few days for almost three summers.
They'd renovated here and there, slowly adding onto the small structure, doing it little by little. Planters in the windowsill one weekend, curtains and a spare closet the next. For her birthday, a small flower garden, and for his, a new gray toolbox waiting in the bed of his truck. Their second anniversary was the fireplace, their third anniversary another bedroom. And Luke.
It wasn't this history, however, that Luke was momentarily concerned with; rather, it was that of the water pipes throughout the cabin, probably installed around the time Liz was born. And hadn't been replaced since. And they were currently alerting him of their distress with a series of extremely high-pitched whines.
Pushing through the bleary-eyed haze he'd awoken in, he teetered groggily out of his room, smoothing his hair and rubbing his cheeks.
It was too late to go fishing, he surmised, too late to make it a worthwhile trip. He glanced out the window; the sunlight was in from well above the evergreens. He wasn't sure how he'd slept so long. The faucet squeaked from inside the bathroom, sounds of water stopping, the pipes sighing from the effort.
Stepping into the kitchen, he held up the pound of coffee he'd bought and realized that half the bag was gone. The coffee maker, at least a few years old, shuddered and steamed under the stress of Lorelai's addiction.
"This is obscene," he muttered under his breath.
"What?" She appeared behind him, towel-clad and drying her hair.
Luke turned to face her, started at her appearance and let his eyes wander, for just a brief second, before dropping them shamefully. His skin flushed a deep pink.
"I... uh, I can't believe you used all the, um, coffee. I bought."
She contained her smile at his embarrassment, then slid ahead of him, pouring herself a cup. He stood behind her, unable to tear his eyes away from the droplets of water glinting on her bare shoulders.
She could feel his eyes on her. It made her nervous; jittery. She almost dropped the coffee pot.
"Do you have more clothes I can borrow for today?" She faced him, peering over her mug as she spoke. Luke composed himself as quickly as he could.
"Sure. Lemme just... go check." He jerked his thumbs in the direction of the room, the peculiarity of her presence in the cabin still startling to him.
Lorelai released the tension in her muscles as he exited the room, letting her grin spread, then drain out of her cheeks.
She'd been up early; wandered around the house, startled by how different everything looked in the light. Peeked in on Luke, who was fast asleep, and began making coffee. Avoided the mirror. Looked in every closet for a TV, only finding a small radio under the sink. Discovered a drawer filled with decks of cards. Didn't think about Christopher. Turned her thoughts to Luke instead, inspecting the lures in his tackle box and poking through his medicine cabinet.
A sharp nagging feeling had taken up residence in her midsection, like she was missing something vital, had forgotten something important. She knew, when she thought about it rationally, that it was because she was supposed to be at work right now, having spent the morning at Luke's and helping Rory pack and choosing an outfit and returning calls. Instead, she was drinking Yuban in a log cabin.
Luke came back with an armful of clothes. "Here," he said, dumping them on the table. "I found these in Liz's old bureau, I don't know if... well, it's all twenty-five years old. But I thought there might be something. And if there's not, you can wear these." On top of the haphazard pile lay a neatly folded white undershirt, blue boxers and sweatpants. "It's hot, though."
She rifled through the pile, flattening a ruffled paisley shirt and bell-bottoms against her frame.
"Mm. Groovy."
"I told you, they're old," he grumbled, leaving the room so she could change.
One pair of patched-up daisy dukes and a hot pink one-piece later, she was ready to go. She flounced into his room and spun around, showing off her outfit, cringing in the realization that her muscles were opposed to the flouncing.
He tossed an old pair of black-and-white checkered Vans at her feet. "Here, they were in the closet." She made a face as she tried them on, but couldn't find cause for complaint when they fit.
"Okay. I'm ready. I look like a confused hobo, but I'm ready."
He looked her up and down. "No, you're not." He took her arm and led her back to the bathroom.
"But Dad," she whined, "I already peed."
"Stand still," Luke ordered. He gently reapplied ointment to her eye and wrist, watching her out of the corner of his eye for signs of pain.
"How does it feel today?" he asked as she winced.
"Fabulous," she grumbled. He was really putting a damper on her denial here.
"It won't be as sore tomorrow. And it won't hurt any more than it does right now, the day after is always the worst."
She grunted in response, choosing to focus on his pursed lips instead of her throbbing skin. He was inches away from her. Again.
"Do you have a headache this morning?"
"No."
"And you're sure you didn't hit your head on anything?"
"Not since the head-butting contest Rory and I had the other day."
He put a few final dabs of Neosporin on her cut and stepped away. She glanced at the mirror. "I didn't know shiners were actually shiny," she quipped, walking out of the room.
"It's the ointment. Not your skin."
She walked straight to the front door. "So where we going?"
"Were we going somewhere?"
"Well, you came here to go fishing, right? So let's fish."
"It's too late." He sighed. "It's already noon."
"So the fish are what, on their lunch break?"
"No," he replied testily. "It's just that most fish aren't active during full daylight hours."
"We won't catch anything, then. Come on, it's better than sitting here and watching our skin melt in the heat."
His voice was laced with apprehension, his brow perplexed. "Don't you think you should stay in today?"
"Stay here? In this barren wasteland of entertainment? I don't think so."
He sighed again, his tone begrudging. "Fine. We'll need to pack a lunch, then."
"What, we can't get something on the way?"
Luke shook his head, because another sigh would've made him hyperventilate.