A/N: Sorry its been so long between updates. I'm just warning you that it might be even longer after this. I'm taking a summer school class and still picking my way through the second version of the part after this. And as always, thanks to my beta, Lula. I don't think she knows how much she inspires me.
Part 4
It was odd to think about it now, the fact that he had just left. He hadn't stopped back by Lorelai's to get his stuff, he had barely said a word to Caesar, he'd just packed his suitcase, the same stupid one from his matching set of luggage from that cruise with Nicole he had taken ages ago, and then drove away without looking back. He had every intention of heading to his own cabin for a week, but he realized he couldn't go there. He had taken Lorelai there once and it would inevitably remind him of her.
"So when you say we're going to your cabin for the weekend, what does that mean?" Lorelai questioned him one night as they were getting ready for bed.
"I don't know how else to say it. We're going up to my cabin for a weekend away from Stars Hollow. I, by no means, expect you to fish or hike or do anything where you might get dirty."
"But if I do, there's running water?" She wrinkled her nose.
"It's a cabin, Lorelai. We're not camping in a tent."
"Perish the thought." She shuddered. "But I did buy some cute boots the other day. See?" Lorelai produced them from her closet. Luke had to give her credit. They were good boots: good design, good brand. He noted her fishing boots and clothes scattered in her closet as well.
"You still have your fishing outfit?"
"Of course! Never know when I might need it."
Luke bypassed the jokes he could make and settled for the suggestion to bring it along.
"Luke Danes, do you have a thing for my fishing outfit?" She beamed up at him.
He shrugged. "More for the person in it."
"That's what I meant."
Luke had been true to his word about the cabin. Lorelai gasped when she saw how nice it was inside and she plopped down in front of the fireplace, claiming she wasn't moving from its four walls for the entirety of the weekend. And it was almost true. There hadn't been much of a reason for them to venture outside, besides to look at the stars. Luke had brought various things to cook and Lorelai kept him occupied.
He needed something to make the pain in his chest go away. But he wasn't sure a cure for that existed. He thought about reversing course and going to New York for a few days, but he figured that would just make him crankier than he already was. Jess would tell him to stop being an idiot and then refuse to discuss it and Luke needed more than that. He actually wanted to talk and now the person he could talk to and had always counted on to understand him was the person he had left behind. That was the problem with getting involved with your best friend, he thought bitterly.
Every time he imagined how crushed she would be, he wanted to pull over to the side of the road. It made him sick to think he had hurt her. He had seen Chris do the same thing over and over again and couldn't understand how Lorelai, one of the strongest people he knew, could so easily let someone like Chris back into her life. She had been upset with Chris but even now he knew Lorelai didn't hate Chris; if anything she had this strange admiration for both Chris and her father, both men who treated Lorelai less than she should be, in Luke's mind's eye. Maybe, he thought, that was the key. Maybe if he hurt her a little, she would have that admiration for him when he returned. Maybe if he failed the perfect image of him that she held, he wouldn't feel so…He shook his head. No, he knew that wasn't the problem. Luke cursed under his breath, heading farther north.
modern day
And now, to be clichéd, it was déjà vu all over again. He was doing it again. He shut the door to his truck, took a deep breath and tried not to glance at Lorelai in the rearview mirror. He hadn't really forgotten how beautiful she was—he could never forget that—but seeing her at graduation, at Rory's party, had reminded him of all the little things about her he loved. He couldn't even explain them, they were all so insignificant—the mix of emotions that had crossed her face when she saw him at Yale, the way her nose and forehead crinkled when she was upset or frustrated, the sound of her laugh, the way her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. But really all the insignificant things did was distract him from the bigger, more important ones.
Luke stopped the truck outside of the diner and quickly realized how stupid that was. Way to call attention to yourself. He pulled inside the alley, debating whether to actually get out and go inside. The back entrance creaked open and he hesitated, sure Caesar or someone had heard and would come investigate. He climbed the stairs carefully, wary of the sound of his weight on the stairs. He paused at the door to the apartment. He shook his head, really wanting to go downstairs and call Lorelai, but he knew if he did that, he would never leave.
He had stayed too long. Liz had thought it was suspicious that he had come to see her. "I'm also usually broke or recently divorced," she reminded him. He assured her the diner was still in existence but she wouldn't let him mope in peace.
"I haven't heard you say a word about Lorelai all week. Is that why you came? Did something happen?"
He remained stoic before he sighed, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. "Nothing really happened."
"Luke? Are you going back?" He didn't reply. "Luke," she shook her head. "What were you thinking? You were so happy!"
"This is why I didn't want to talk about it! It's not anything she did or I did, it just…it wasn't—" He sighed, shaking his head. "I can't explain it. I just need to think. I needed to leave for a little while." Luke knew how odd those words must sound coming from him. He never left Stars Hollow willingly. But now, he had chosen to. Liz knew she wasn't the best person to give advice, so she left him alone. He knew she would be there when he was ready to talk.
Marty was sprawled out across the couch in Rory's room, her legs on top of his. He put down his book with a sigh and gave her a withering look until she finally glanced up from the thick notebook and notes scattered across her lap.
"So what am I supposed to grasp from this? Because poetry makes no sense to me. I don't see how it can be forty words long and people analyze it for pages and pages."
"Not a Williams Carlos Williams fan?" She smirked at him. Her phone rang and she wiggled her way off the couch to answer it. "Hey, Mom," she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Hey, babe," her mother replied hoarsely. Rory sensed even then that something was up. "What are you doing?"
"Just studying. Why?" She glanced back at Marty, but he wasn't paying attention, he had returned to his book.
"Luke and I had a fight."
"Oh, Mom," she sighed. "I'm sorry. But I'm sure—"
"He left."
"What?" Rory stood there for a moment, her hand across her mouth in shock. What happened to the days when Luke and her mom would get in a fight and then make up over coffee and danish the next day? "You mean for a couple days?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. Caesar said he just left, he didn't—" Rory noticed the panic in her mother's voice as she trailed off.
"Did you call him? Maybe he's just out in the woods and his phone isn't working."
"It's been almost a week."
"Oh my gosh," Rory breathed. "Mom, I—I'll be right there." She didn't listen to her mother's objections, just hung up the phone, punctuating her decision. When she turned around, Marty was sitting up on the couch, wide-eyed and worried.
"Is everything okay?"
"Luke left. About a week ago, my mom said." Rory ran a hand through her hair, still in disbelief. "She didn't even…she's been alone for almost a week and she didn't tell me."
"Hey," Marty caught her arm. "I'll come with you. You shouldn't have to do this by yourself."
"Oh Marty, that's sweet but you shouldn't—you have classes. I'll be okay. You don't want to have to listen to two weepy girls anyway." Plus, I'm used to this. I pick up the pieces. Always have. "I just thought it would be different this time," she whispered as he gave her a tight hug. He knew Rory and knew she could handle this. It was one of the things she was good at: talking people out of their holes or down from their ledges. She was calm but straight forward and she made her point clearly, her tone soft. He'd been on the receiving end of it a lot lately.
The envelope was square and off white, small enough to get mixed up in with the usual bills or credit card applications and his fishing supply magazine. The calligraphy made him take note and open it first. It was embossed with the Yale logo and the little name card slid out: Lorelai L. Gilmore. He twirled it in his fingers, sighing as he studied the invitation. He crossed to the fridge and circled the date on the calendar. His phone rang then and he pushed the invitation out of his mind until he found it on the table the next morning. He stared it down as he drank some juice and ate his grapefruit, leaving for the store in a rush. He couldn't put it from his mind at work, however, and was tempted to put in a call, something he hadn't had the desire to do for quite awhile.
Did Lorelai know? Had she sent it and not Rory? He thought Rory might have apprised him of its arrival via email, but he hadn't heard from her since before her spring break. Whenever a pair of women with dark hair entered the store, however, he eyed them closely. Although, he realized, he wouldn't know what to say if one of the Gilmore girls had shown up. Especially Lorelai. If he saw her…he knew he wanted to see her. And that he had to go to that graduation.
Not to mention Rory. He had seen her be disappointed by her own father enough in her life, he couldn't add to that. He could imagine the look on Rory's face if he didn't show up—it was the same disappointed, misunderstood look she had worn when she had visited him. He had been there since she was little, and he couldn't miss out on this.
Luke had always liked his rhythm: get up, work in the diner, order supplies, go to bed, get up even earlier for the bread shipment. With Lorelai, however, his routine changed. He liked it.
Luke knew Lorelai could be just as serene as she was chaotic. Her actions and babblings confounded most, but over the years Luke had come to be able to read and interpret her. He could tell when something was wrong and he liked the predictability in their relationship because in turn, Lorelai could call him out on his crap as well.
He found her steady, even steadier than Rachel. Maybe that had something to do with her parental instincts towards Rory or the fact she knew she was rooted in Stars Hollow with the inn and with him. Yet all of that hadn't made him happy. The night manager at the Dragonfly had left, Lorelai taking over many of the night shifts, not seeming in any hurry to get a replacement. Even when she was free in the evenings, she started making up excuses about his early deliveries as reason to not come over. She had started to shut him out, slowly—not talking to him about Rory or her parents and she wouldn't discuss any plans for the future with him. He was sure he had added to their problems. He was so afraid of being hurt again that he was hesitant to say what he wanted or needed from Lorelai. They had always been able to reach each other so well, but suddenly it was much harder. They were both learning how romantic relationships and friendships differed.
In his way, he tried to solve this puzzle but began to realize he could never make all the pieces fit. Lorelai didn't seem interested in helping and as they let the space come between them they each became more stubborn and turned back into themselves, to their old habits. Luke had known he couldn't stay in that rut, so he left. It was the last thing on his mind and one of the few impulsive things he had done in his life.
But he liked their rut. He wanted it back.
tbc...
