Author's Note: Thanks for all the kind words about this story. I really appreciate the feedback. Huge, huge thanks as well to the stupendous betas, JeSouhaite and CineFille.
Lorelai pulled herself out of bed reluctantly the next morning, wishing she could remain in the curve of Luke's arm all day. In the few weeks they'd been apart, she had forgotten how much she relied on the soft rhythm of his breaths to lull herself to sleep, how comforting it felt to hear his gentle snores when she woke in the night.
She showered and dressed, then leaned across the bed to place a kiss on his forehead, smiling at the reversal in their typical roles. He stirred and she brushed her fingers across his cheek, "Hey, go back to sleep. I'm going downstairs to catch up on some reports and e-mail. Come on down when you're ready for breakfast." Luke mumbled an unintelligible response and reached a clumsy arm around her waist. In response, she brushed her lips against his before sliding out from underneath his arm.
Downstairs, early risers ate their breakfasts and the daily routines of the inn were underway. The Stirling Inn was a beautiful building, artfully constructed of stone and furnished inside with elegant antiques. The tables in the dining room were set with fine china and the staff performed their duties admirably. It was times like these that made her wonder what she was doing here. This inn ran smoothly and there was little she had done to improve upon that. Yet, as much as she admired the history and attention to detail in this inn, it still felt as though something was missing, something that made her homesick for the Dragonfly. She missed the comfort of her country inn, the way that it rejuvenated her. In these quiet moments of observing the routine around her she wondered if maybe she had just gotten lucky with the Dragonfly, that whatever drew her to its warmth was nothing more than a happy twist of fate and that it was ridiculous to think she had the skills to replicate that charm on the other side of the world. Though she knew she had made some positive changes in the time since arriving at the Stirling Inn, they felt minor in comparison to the overall goal of her work and she had a nagging feeling that she was failing to see the big picture.
Sighing away her thoughts, Lorelai went to the makeshift desk she had set up in a back office and carried out her own part of the routine of the inn. As she got absorbed in orders and scheduling, she pushed the doubts to the back of her mind, focusing instead on the papers in front of her.
Sometime later, a familiar voice interrupted her, "So, what's in these amazing breakfasts you've been raving about?"
She looked up to find Luke resting his arms against the doorframe, his head tilted toward her. "Oh you'll see," she said, returning his warm smile. "You haven't experienced breakfast until you've had the full Scottish breakfast."
"She says, to the guy who's been making her breakfast for years," Luke responded dryly.
"Awww, Luke's jealous," she teased, standing and balancing her weight on his shoulder as she leaned in for a kiss.
"I am not jealous of your breakfast," he protested, following her to the dining room. "I'm just curious."
"Patience, my friend, patience," she answered, guiding him toward a table for two.
When their waiter placed two bowls of oatmeal in front of them, Luke gave her a questioning look. "Oatmeal?" He gestured at her bowl, his tone incredulous. "You're eating oatmeal?"
"Most people around here call it porridge, but yeah."
"And the wonders never cease."
As they started eating, Lorelai asked, "So, what do you think?"
"It's good, but so far, I'm not understanding what you see in this."
"Oh there's more. This is only the beginning."
A few minutes later, a basket with a small selection of scones and biscuits arrived at the table and the waiter took their order for eggs and toast. Luke's whole-wheat toast was delivered promptly with a basket of butter and jellies. He looked with surprise at the four pieces of toast propped up in a metal stand. "You said you didn't want toast, right? Why did they bring me four pieces? And what is this thing?"
"Well, there's a whole ritual around toast here. But don't you think that the little stand is cute? You should get some of these for the diner."
"I've been serving toast on plates for years and no one has ever complained."
"Really? Kirk complains about soggy toast all the time."
"Kirk complains if his bacon slices are different lengths. I can't tell you how little influence that has on me."
Lorelai chuckled at Luke's trademark grumpiness, realizing how much she had missed it. This trip and her insecurities had brought out his supportive nature, and while she appreciated his concern, it was reassuring to have her gruff diner guy back. He caught her gazing at him and raised his eyebrows. She just shrugged and returned her attention to her scone, uncharacteristically quiet in the minutes before the waiter brought the rest of their food.
Luke looked down at their heavily loaded plates in disbelief. "Do you really eat all of this? Bacon and sausage, eggs, and-"
Lorelai cut in, "I thought you would appreciate the sautéed mushrooms and tomatoes. In fact, I planned on giving you mine."
"Surprise, surprise." He tapped at a crusty black disc. "Uh…what's this?"
"Oh, that's black pudding," she replied matter-of-factly, trying to hide a grin.
"Black pudding?"
"Yeah, it's kind of a Scottish delicacy."
"Really?" he asked, unsure. Looking back at her, he took a small bite. "Oh my god. That's disgusting, what the hell is that?"
"I told you, black pudding." He gave her an irritated look and she relented, "It's made with oatmeal, pig's blood and suet. What is suet, by the way?"
"People eat that? You eat that?"
"Yeah, I mean other people do. I don't. It's disgusting."
"And you thought I'd like it?"
"Well, I thought if I didn't like it, it would be a sure hit with you. And it was fun watching you try it," She said, grinning.
"So this is it, right? Have I just been outdone by the sheer quantity of food?"
"First of all – yes. You have now experienced the full Scottish breakfast, that which every traveler to Scotland tires of after a few days. Second – who said anything about being outdone? I've been in pancake withdrawal for weeks."
"Wow. It's pretty up here," Lorelai said wistfully, looking over the castle wall at the small town of Doune and the surrounding scenery, "and the castle is cool. Kind of makes you wonder what it would have been like to live here."
"Cold and uncomfortable. The whole thing is just big, empty stone rooms. I can't imagine being here in the winter."
"Spoilsport."
"You saw the bathrooms, right?"
"You mean those seats conveniently constructed to hang out just beyond the castle wall? Yes, I do much prefer running water myself. But the little rooms with the fireplaces and chutes for boiling oil are kind of cool. Besides," her voice softened as she gave him a quick glance before turning to look again across the grassy fields and rolling hills, "I think it'd be romantic to live in a castle."
Luke looked at her skeptically, "Romantic?"
"Oh, you know, the fair maiden comes up here to the top of the castle wall to be wooed by a knight in shining armor."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, with an amused smile. "And what does said wooing entail?"
"Well, there would be flattering words, serenades, and flowers thrown at her feet."
Luke rolled his eyes, but gave into her story, asking with a smirk, "What does the knight get in exchange for the wooing? Does the fair maiden throw down a rope so that he can climb up and have his way with her?"
"Good God no. She gives him a good luck kiss and a ribbon to wear during the next tournament."
"Figures," he said sarcastically. "So I suppose they fall madly in love and live happily ever after?"
Lorelai thought for a moment, then continued her tale, "No, she doesn't know it, but she's waiting for her Prince Charming, who's not the type to mess with flowery words and songs, but happens to be right there when she gets lost on a horseback ride one morning. He escorts her back to the castle…" her voice trailed off as she dreamed up the next part of the story.
"Does he get a good luck kiss and a ribbon for the tournament?"
She tipped her head to the side and mused, "Well no, see, he's not a knight. He's a…respected merchant in the town."
"Was there such a thing?"
"I don't know, but it's my story, so just go with it."
"But of course."
"So anyway, she sees him again the next time she goes riding, and they talk, and then when the flashy knight breaks her heart, she tells him about it and he comforts her…because he's her friend." She paused for a moment, wondering how far to spin her silly fantasy. Looking back out over the castle wall, and keeping her voice light, she went on. "But see, there's more to the story. He watches the knights woo her and he bides his time, waiting for the right time to reveal his true feelings."
"Hmmm, interesting." Luke whispered softly into her ear as he stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.
Lorelai wasn't exactly sure how her innocent daydream had morphed into the story she was telling but once she started it was hard to back off. "What he doesn't know is that she has feelings of her own. She's getting tired of the knights and their fancy words and their stupid jousts. But he finds out when he finally gets up the nerve to kiss her."
"Really?" Luke sounded surprised, but kept up the pretense of fiction. "She doesn't slap him for being a silly fool? Or send the King to run him out of town?"
"Nope, they live happily ever after," Lorelai concluded, before the subtext could take them too far down a path she was afraid to explore just yet.
"That's it?" Luke asked, sounding just a little disappointed.
"Yeah, well you don't really need any more beyond the happily ever after." Lorelai turned in Luke's arms and put her arms around his neck, "So, what do you think of my story?"
He gave her a knowing smile. "That's a nice little fairy tale you've dreamed up there."
"I'm glad you liked it," she said with a smile and a soft brush of her lips on his. When she pulled back, she slid her arms down his chest and around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder as she held him tightly.
She released him slightly, and he pulled back, giving her a small smile. "Do you want to walk around a little more?"
"Yeah, we haven't been outside. I want to see where those not so porta-potties let out." Lorelai started to head toward the stairs, then looked back to see Luke rolling his eyes, even as he let her take his hand and lead him away.
Once reaching the ground, they exited through the front gate and walked around the side of the castle. As they turned the corner, Lorelai let out a yelp of recognition. "Oh, here it is. This is where they had the swallow debate." At his shake of the head, she gave him a look of disbelief, "Don't tell me you don't remember that, it's the first scene of the movie. Arthur comes along to find knights to join his court and the guards just want to know where he got his coconuts and they get into the whole debate about whether a five-ounce bird can carry a one-pound coconut. And whether it's an African or a European swallow."
"Uh…sure. I remember now," Luke nodded, looking entirely too much like he was humoring her.
"Now you're agreeing just to get me to shut up. Well what about Frenchman scene? That was here too." Lorelai put on her best Michel voice, "'I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed something, uh…can't remember that part, I fart in your general direction! You mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.'" Luke looked at her, his eyebrows raised skeptically, trying unsuccessfully to hide a slightly amused smile. She gave a small chuckle before continuing, "Then Galahad asks: 'Is there anyone else we could talk to?' And the Frenchman's like: 'No, no go away or I shall taunt you a second time!'"
Lorelai flashed Luke a proud smile and tapped his chest gently to emphasize the final words. He grasped her hand as she finished, saying with a smile, "You are crazy, you know that, right?"
"Oh come on, don't tell me you don't remember that. You're a guy, right?" At his confused nod, she gave him a devious smile and reached down to cup her hand around the front of his jeans.
"Lorelai, jeez, what the hell are you doing?" Luke pushed her hand away as he looked around with embarrassment.
"Just checking, I mean I thought it was sort of a guy requirement to be able to recite Holy Grail lines," she answered saucily, "You have seen the movie, right?"
"Yes, but apparently not as many times as you have."
After they completed their circuit of the castle, Lorelai steering wide around the areas below the privy holes and Luke teasing her that no one had lived in the castle for hundreds of years, they returned to the car and headed back to the inn.
"Well, that - that was great. We have so got to watch the movie now." She watched Luke roll his eyes. "What?"
"We just spent two hours exploring a really interesting castle and all you can talk about is a movie," he replied, with mock exasperation.
"So you admit it- it was cool."
"It was," he admitted, "and at least you didn't make me do that thing with the coconuts."
"I'm still holding that against you. Rory would've-" She cut herself off once she realized what she had said, shaking her head and turning to look out the window, a lump forming in her throat as she thought about how long it had been since she had talked to Rory.
After a few moments of silence, Luke reached out to touch her knee, "Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah, I just…" She let her voice trail off. It wasn't worth making excuses. He knew what was wrong. Instead she just leaned her head against the cool window and watched field after field of grass slide by. The warm pressure on her knee comforted her and without turning away from the window, she reached down and took his hand in hers, feeling a renewed strength when he gave her fingers a brief squeeze.
It still hurt that she hadn't heard from Rory since arriving in Scotland. At their last dinner, she'd given Rory the number of the inn and also encouraged her to call her cell if she needed anything. She had thought numerous times of calling Rory herself, but found it hard to imagine the conversation they would have. The dinners had been bad enough, with so many topics off-limits, but over the phone the silences would have been more pronounced. Until Rory was willing to talk about some aspect of her life, it hardly seemed worth calling to talk about the weather.
Her eyes must have drifted closed, because when they opened to see the grassy edges of the road just inches from the car, she let out a yelp of fear, "Luke, watch out."
"What?" he answered, just as surprised.
"You're going to run off the road."
"No I'm not. I'm right next to the center-line. The only thing that's going to make me run off the road is you shrieking at me."
"I wasn't shrieking."
"Well, whatever it was, don't do it when we drive out to that Isle of Skye or whatever. Unless you want to drive."
"And let you mock me. No way. You've been practicing. You drive."
"Then no shrieking."
"How about squealing?" She said with a grin, looking over at Luke for the first time since she had mentioned Rory. He just narrowed his eyes at her remark and then gave her a small smile.
They returned to the inn just as lunch was being served and though Luke commented that neither one of them could possibly be hungry after the enormous breakfast, they each ate a small meal. Lorelai picked at her food, still feeling out of sorts, and Luke seemed to recognize her need for quiet companionship. After lunch they headed to the room to figure out how to fit some more sightseeing in around Lorelai's need to get some work done.
As Lorelai reached for the travel guide, Luke spoke up, his smile gone and his eyes worried, "Before we start planning the rest of our day, I want to give you something." Perplexed by his serious tone, she sat down on the bed while he rifled though his suitcase. Pulling out an envelope, he turned toward her. "It's from Rory."
"Rory?" Lorelai breathed. "When did she…did she bring that to you? Did she come to see you?" She couldn't decide how to feel about Rory going to Luke and yet avoiding any communication with her.
Luke blew out a breath and ran his hand across his eyes before answering, "She came by the Wednesday after you left and-"
"You've had it since then?"
He lowered his eyes, and took a breath before answering, "No, she came by then, but she's been coming for dinners on Wednesdays and Saturdays since you left."
"She's been coming for dinner…and you didn't tell me?" Lorelai didn't even try to hide the hurt in her voice.
"She asked me not to," he replied apologetically.
"Why?"
His expression conveyed his guilt. "She thought it would make you upset."
"She thought that would make me upset? What makes me upset is my daughter who won't talk to me having dinner with you and neither one of you thinking you should mention it." She knew that she was blowing this out of proportion, but she felt so disconnected from her daughter, that even Luke's good intentions felt like a betrayal.
"I wanted to tell you."
"So that's why you waited a whole day before mentioning it?" She couldn't help the angry tone in her voice.
Luke gave her an apologetic look, then looked down where his hands gripped the envelope. "I had just gotten here and you said you didn't want to talk about the inn, about anything, that you just wanted to hang out, and …I was putting it off. I should have told you sooner." He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I'm sorry."
"Can I see it?" He looked confused at the sudden change in subject. "The letter. Can I see the letter?"
He handed it to her, saying, "She wanted you to know that she's okay, and that she misses you." Lorelai's throat closed up briefly at his statement. She looked at him for a long moment, his pleading eyes meeting her cold stare.
As she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, she turned away from Luke to read it.
Dear Mom,
I hope your consulting job is going well. I miss seeing you. You might not believe that since our dinners have been kind of uncomfortable, but it's true. I'm sorry that I haven't talked to you about everything that's going on, but it's hard to talk to you when you're so disappointed in me. I am trying to get my life straightened out, but there are just so many things I'm still unsure of.
I started my community service assignment, working in the daycare center in a homeless shelter in downtown Hartford. It's given me a lot to think about. I just want you to know that I'm okay. Well, maybe not completely okay, but I'm getting there.
Luke has been really great. Please don't be angry at him for not telling you about the dinners. I asked him not to. I was afraid it would upset you, though I can't really explain why.
If you want to call me, I'd like that. Even though it's been a little weird, I miss seeing you, and I'd love to hear about how the job is going.
I hope that you're okay. I got a little worried when you started making plans to travel right after getting engaged, but Luke told me that everything is fine. It is, right? You're not freaking out, are you?
I hope to hear from you.
Love,
RoryReading the first part of the letter, Lorelai felt tears welling in her eyes. Knowing that Rory missed whatever small comfort the dinners had provided was reassuring, even though it still felt as if she wasn't being allowed into Rory's life. It stung that Rory had been able to go to Luke but had not called her.
When Lorelai read the last paragraph, she drew in a sharp breath. Luke reacted by resting his hand on her shoulder and asking, "Are you okay?"
She swung around swiftly to face him, questions building. "Why do people think that I left?'
Luke seemed baffled by the question, "Huh? They know you're consulting."
"No, why do people think that I left now?" she persisted, her voice sharp.
His eyes swam with confusion. "What? I don't get-"
Lorelai turned and began to pace, "Rory asked why I left right after we got engaged. She's worried that I'm running away." She stopped and looked back at Luke questioningly, "Is that what everyone thinks? Luke proposed and Lorelai freaked out and ran off to another country?"
"No," he said, drawing out the word as if he wanted to say more.
"Really?" She went back to pacing. Somehow the movement kept her from completely losing it. "And yet Rory's asking, and if Rory's asking after I explained what I was doing, it makes me wonder what everyone else is wondering. If they're wondering why I ran off and left poor Luke. Except they don't know that it was you who wanted me to come, that it was your idea." Once the rush of words started, all of her insecurities and uncertainties - about Luke, about Rory, about the inn – flowed out, like the foam in a soda bottle shaken too hard. "You thought I should try it. Well, I have tried it Luke, because you encouraged me to, but I think that the experiment has failed, because I don't know how to fix an inn in Scotland. I know how to run the Dragonfly, which is back in Stars Hollow. So why am I here, in this place, with no idea what I'm doing?"
Luke just stared at her, his mouth slightly open, taken aback by her outburst. "But you were just telling me yesterday all the things that you've been working on."
It rankled that Luke kept focusing on her work, not hearing her desire to be home. "Things any organized person would do. I have nothing new to offer, no ideas about the one thing they really want me to focus on."
"Lorelai, of course you can do this. You just need more time to figure it out. You've only been here a few weeks."
"No. You're not listening to me." She grew more frustrated and as much as she knew that there were many things she was upset about, somehow it always came back to the same question about Luke's intention. Knowing she was afraid to confront him about that – to ask him why he had really sent her away – she refocused that fear and anger on her work. "I don't know what I'm doing. I've been here a month and I have no clearer idea how to help than I did when I got here. Why won't you listen to me? I've been telling you this, but you're not listening. And now I find out that Rory's been coming to you to talk. I'm her mother. I should be at home, but I'm here because you told me to come and I feel totally lost and you're not helping." She knew that she wasn't being fair, that Luke was feeling the brunt of everything that was screwed up in her life, but she was determined to make him hear her.
She looked up at Luke, who looked dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it.
"What?" Lorelai asked, pushing him.
"I don't know what you want me to say," he looked at her almost helplessly. "All I want to do is help you, but I guess you don't want to hear it."
"Well you're not helping." She felt her voice, sharp and bitter.
That seemed to have pushed Luke over the edge, and his response bordered on angry, "Then maybe I should leave you alone for a while."
Though she knew her words were responsible, it still hurt that his first response was to leave. "Fine. You know what? Why don't you go sightseeing without me this afternoon? I have to work anyway." Her words sounded unnecessarily harsh, but before she could take them back he turned to go.
"Fine, I'll see you later." Lorelai didn't register the defeated tone in his voice until the door clicked closed.
Though she desperately wanted to go after Luke, to apologize for her harsh words, Lorelai couldn't be sure he would be willing to hear her. She remained rooted in place, numbed by the severity of the argument, and unable to think clearly for several long minutes. Finally, after a few deep breaths and an almost tangible attempt to push the fight from her head, she squared her shoulders and headed down to her desk.
In an attempt to bury her thoughts, Lorelai threw herself into the managerial details of the inn. Unfortunately, all the tiny details only reinforced her feelings about what she saw as the insignificance of her work and reminded her that she still hadn't come up with a broad plan to address the occupancy rate at the inn. Worse yet, she felt like she couldn't even identify a problem. It had been a long time since working had made her feel so unnecessary.
Eventually, in spite of her efforts, her thoughts strayed to Luke and Rory. As unfair as it was to Luke, it killed her that Rory would rather have dinner with him and talk to him, than call her. She felt further from Rory than she had ever been, even more than when she put her on a plane to Europe after the disaster with Dean. Somehow last summer she had known that Rory would come back to her, confide in her, and need her. This time, she couldn't be so sure.
Rory's letter itself felt like an accusation, the kind words at the beginning trumped by the insinuation that she was again running from commitment, that she would again hurt a man who loved her. That Lorelai knew the truth of the situation was no consolation. Rory suspected it, which meant others did too. Given her history, how could they not? Why would anyone believe Luke had encouraged her to leave? Why would they believe it, when she herself did not understand it? In one of her bleakest moments, after yet another betrayal by her parents and estrangement from her daughter, Luke had been there. And she knew she wanted him there always, that she wanted to allow herself to depend on him in a way she had never allowed with anyone else. She thought his response to the proposal had been his way of saying the same thing, of letting her into his life in a way he hadn't allowed others. That it was a way of showing that he needed her. But then he had sent her away and made her wonder if he really needed her as much as she had come to need him. And instead of asking the question that angered and terrified her, she had hidden behind other hurt, other anger, and it had driven him away.
Lorelai could feel tears pricking her eyes. She felt the urge to put her head down on the desk and sob. It was fruitless to continue pretending to work. After checking in with the assistant manager and the chef, she made a clumsy excuse about a headache and dragged herself to her room. Once there, she sank onto the bed, collapsing under the combined weight of Rory's decisions and Luke's apparent indecision.
To be continued