Author's Note: Once again, thanks to the spectacular betas, JeSouhaite and CineFille.
Luke closed the door behind him and let out a huge sigh, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He had no idea what had happened, how his not telling Lorelai about his dinners with Rory had spun into her angry tirade that seemed to be about so much more. He felt guilt, compassion, frustration, and anger in almost equal measure, though the more he thought about it the angrier he became. He needed to leave, to get far away until he could calm down and think more rationally. Besides, she wanted him to go.
Without conscious thought, he headed to the car and got in. Putting the key in the ignition, he realized he had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. He curled his hands into fists and rested his forearms against the steering wheel. After only a few moments, he could feel the tension in his shoulders and blew out a breath in an attempt to relax. Leaning his head forward on his fists, he took deep breaths and tried to make sense of what had just happened.
A part of him had known that Lorelai would be upset to find out about his dinners with Rory, that he shouldn't have kept them from her. He had known without asking that she hadn't talked to Rory since leaving for Scotland. It had to be killing her to be at such odds with her daughter, but she hadn't mentioned it, which made it easier for Luke to honor Rory's request to keep it between them.
In the beginning, he had agreed without fully thinking through the consequences, perhaps hoping that whatever connection he could make with Rory would help him bring mother and daughter back together in some small way. His naïve hope kept him encouraging, nudging Rory without outright pushing, each dinner bringing him a touch of disappointment and guilt that he couldn't set things right and that he was still hiding something from Lorelai.
Rory's first visit had only been a couple of days after Lorelai left, when Luke had buried himself in the routine of the diner so as to avoid counting the days until he saw her again. He heard the bell ring announcing an arrival in the diner, but reached to grab a couple more things from the storeroom before returning to the front. He stopped abruptly when he saw her sitting at the counter. "Rory."
"Luke."
"What are you…?" he started. "Oh. It's Wednesday. Dinner. She's not-"
"I know. I'm sorry. I got in the car before I remembered and then I didn't want to go back. I can go…" Looking at her, Luke realized that though he'd known Rory since she was a young child, he had never seen her look quite so lost.
"No. Stay. Let me make you some dinner." His voice was kind and firm. Rory had begun to stand, then stopped and gave a small nod of agreement before sitting again.
"Can I have a cheeseburger? And a Coke?"
"Of course."
Luke used the time while he was making the cheeseburger and serving other customers to watch Rory. She fidgeted nervously with the strap on her purse in between glances around the diner. He wished once again, but this time for Rory's sake, that Mrs. Kim hadn't convinced Lane to go on tour with her band. Rory could have used Lane right about now; he was going to be a poor substitute.
He brought the cheeseburger, then settled up with a few other customers. Once they left, the diner was almost empty. Luke walked over to Rory, unsure whether to act as diner guy or soon-to-be stepfather. Diner guy won out temporarily, "Everything okay? Do you need anything else?"
"No, everything's good," she answered softly. He nodded, knowing he should say something else, but at a loss for the appropriate words. A few beats past the point when the lull had grown uncomfortable, she spoke, "You've talked to her, right?"
He nodded again. "Yeah, we've talked a few times."
"Is she, you know, doing okay?"
"She's still getting used to it, but I think she's going to be fine."
"Yeah, she will. She always is."
The note of wistfulness, almost envy, in her voice reminded him again that this was a sadness he hadn't seen before and though he was afraid to pry, he couldn't help but ask, "How are you? Are you okay?"
She looked up and gave him a small smile, and he was suddenly glad he had asked. "Yeah, I'm okay." Her tone wasn't convincing, however, and her expression of regret spoke volumes. Another uncomfortable lull passed, then another before Rory's words broke the silence, "I started my community service this week."
Surprised and pleased that she was opening up, he asked, "What do they have you doing?"
"I'm working in a daycare center in a homeless shelter in Hartford."
The protective streak came out unbidden, "Is it safe?"
"Yeah it's safe," she answered, smiling at his concern. "And I'm learning a lot. I haven't spent much time around young kids. I'm actually enjoying it, probably more than I'm supposed to." Her expression turned grim at this, as if she'd briefly forgotten that her summer job was a punishment for a crime, as if suddenly reminded that she didn't recognize herself.
"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it, regardless." Yet another silence followed, this time broken by the final customer asking for the check. In the time that it took Luke to settle the bill, Rory had finished eating. She started to open her purse, and Luke interrupted, "You're not doing what I think you're doing?"
"What? I should get going." Her wallet was out now. She stood holding it, a confused expression on her face."
"You are not paying." His voice was soft, but the tone was firm.
"But, Luke-"
"No," he said, reaching for a to-go container and placing a piece of pie in it, "Here's something for later."
She looked at him for a long moment, as if debating her next words, then shrugged and said, "Thanks Luke…for everything."
"You're welcome," he paused and she turned to go, "and Rory?"
She turned back, "Yeah?"
"Come by on Saturday, you know, if you want to."
She smiled then, a real smile. "I'll do that. Well, see you then." She turned toward the door, then turned back, one more time. "Hey Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to tell her I came?"
He let out a breath slowly to buy him time before responding. "I don't think I should keep it from her."
Rory bit her lip then looked down, studying the container of pie in her hands. When she met his eyes again, all he could see was a nervous fragility that completely unnerved him. She took a breath before speaking. "I just…need a little more time."
He narrowed his eyes, evaluating. "Why don't you want her to know?"
"She'll be hurt I'm coming here, talking to you instead of her." He gave a slight involuntary nod and Rory continued, "Please Luke?"
"You could call her. She'd like to hear from you."
"I know, and I will, but not yet. There's too much…just, not yet. But I will." Her eyes were pleading and his resolve crumbled. He'd never really been able to deny either of the Lorelais anything.
"Okay," he hesitated. "For now. See you Saturday."
"See you then."
The dinners continued after that, in the same manner. Rory came to the diner on Wednesdays and Saturdays and sat at the counter. The arrangement allowed them the pretense of casual interactions. It kept their conversations on the edges of topics and made the lulls less conspicuous.
The Wednesday before Luke left for Scotland, Rory surprised him by sitting at a table. When the last customer left, he joined her, knowing there was a reason for her change in venue. She slid an envelope across the table, "Can you give it to her? Tell her…tell her I'm okay? Tell her I miss her?"
Not until he had accepted the letter did he realize that he had let her put him in the middle of the whole situation. In the short conversation that followed, he tried in vain to convince her to call her mother, to let Rory explain why they needed to keep the dinners from Lorelai, because he'd be damned if he could come up with a good reason.
He lifted his head slowly from the steering wheel, the rough stone wall of the inn in front of him just a beige blur. Blinking until he was clear-eyed, he turned the key. Without a clear destination in mind, he headed in the direction of the castle they had just visited that morning. Partway there, he saw a sign with the name of a town he recognized from the tour book and veered off in that direction, trying to remember the point of interest.
Luke found driving on the left side of the road required just enough concentration to prevent constant replay of the conversation with Lorelai. He pushed aside those thoughts and focused on the center-line to his right. A few minutes later, he approached what appeared to be a small town. After navigating some confusing one-way streets, he saw a large stone church with a tower and remembered that this town was the one known for a historic cathedral. He drove around the churchyard and stopped the car in the parking lot, as good a place as any to leave it, especially being almost completely empty at mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out of the car, leaning on the roof of the car after shutting the door.
Glancing around, Luke took in the weathered appearance of the cathedral and the headstones dotting the surrounding graveyard. Just beyond there appeared to be a river, toward which he headed, eager to get into motion and at the same time reluctant to begin processing his jumbled thoughts. As he walked along the river, impressed in spite of himself at the picturesque scene, he suddenly wished that Lorelai were with him. There was something about the quaint beauty of this town that reminded him of Stars Hollow, but he couldn't fully appreciate it alone.
As much as he felt Lorelai's absence, Luke knew that he needed to process what had happened before seeing her again. He needed to not be angry at her and to do that he needed to understand what had prompted her harsh words. The anger and hurt at not knowing about his dinners with Rory was not wholly unexpected. He still felt pangs of guilt for keeping that from her. What was harder to understand was her almost hostile reaction to his words of encouragement. He replayed conversations they'd had, trying to remember the concerns she expressed and wondering if the difficulties she had described were worse than he'd realized. No matter what she said, however, he refused to believe, as she said, that she couldn't do the consulting job. He only had to remember her confident air when he arrived at the Stirling Inn and the way that the staff had come to respect her in such a short time. There was no doubt in his mind of her ability, but he resolved to listen more carefully to her reservations, assuming that she shared them anymore.
What surprised him most about Lorelai's outburst was her concern about what other people thought about the reason for the trip. To the few people who had asked, Luke explained that he had encouraged Lorelai to take advantage of the opportunity to consult, and most people seemed to accept that. Patty had flashed him a sympathetic glance, but he'd put that up to her teasing him about his loneliness. Maybe there had been more to it than that, but he honestly didn't care what people thought, and it surprised and confused him to think that Lorelai did.
A cool breeze brushed his face and brought him out of his thoughts. He heard the soft rush of the river and leaned against the railing to watch the water swirl around rocks near the shore. He couldn't say how long he stood there, focusing on the turbulent water instead of his troubled thoughts.
The chatter of two children with their mother made him look up, and catching their cheerful eyes briefly, he stood and moved on. He wandered the town in a lazy loop along the river, over the railroad tracks and back, acknowledging the friendly smiles with small nods. Eventually, his route wound up the one-way road that had baffled him on entering the town and he followed it back to the cathedral.
On impulse, instead of heading directly to the car, Luke walked over to the cathedral and tried the door, expecting it to be locked. To his surprise, it opened and, walking past a small table with touristy pamphlets, he took that to mean he could enter. Looking around, he saw that even though the building was silent there were a few other people visiting as well. He headed toward what appeared to be the front, reading the descriptions and explanations in the pamphlet he'd picked up. Luke had never been particularly religious, but there was something about the history and architecture of the church that struck him. The stone, even inside, was worn from age, some parts dating to medieval times. When he circled around to the back of the cathedral, he noticed a list engraved into the wall, delineating all of the bishops or ministers who had served in this location since the year 602 AD. There were gaps of time in some places, but seeing the engraved names, one-word names for the early years and the still shiny ones that had recently been added, brought home the history in a way that hit him hard.
He sat in one of the rows of seats nearby, leaning forward, burying his face in his hands. The town felt like home in many ways, though it admittedly had more history and was somewhat less quirky than Stars Hollow. It reminded him that no matter how charming or beautiful a destination, he would always be relieved to be home. There was comfort there. He had set down roots and he wanted to continue to let those roots grow with Lorelai. He wanted them to make their own history, their own family. And he wanted her to want that as much as he did. Everything, including the family and the kids.
They hadn't had a conversation about kids. Somehow, in all of the craziness with Rory and Lorelai preparing for her trip, the reason for buying the Twickham house had been lost in the details. Lorelai had never asked about his "What about the kids?" slip. He told himself that it was perfectly reasonable, given everything that Lorelai had been dealing with, but he feared there was more to it than that. Was she avoiding the topic because she didn't want him to explain his comment or the reason for the Twickham house? He had avoided he conversation as well, not wanting to ask a question only to get an answer he didn't want to hear. Not wanting to find out that Lorelai's vision of their future didn't match his dream of starting a family in the place he'd always called home.
Luke returned to the inn just before dinner-time, searching the main floor of the inn for Lorelai before asking Anne, the chef who had become friends with Lorelai, if she knew where Lorelai was. Her expression grew slightly concerned as she informed him that Lorelai had gone to lie down a while ago, complaining of a headache.
He swallowed and nodded, before heading toward the room with trepidation. Turning the key in the lock as quietly as possible, he opened the door. Though at early evening the sun was still quite high in the sky, the drapes were closed and the room was dim. Lorelai lay curled on the bed facing away from him, clutching a pillow. It was impossible to determine if she was awake or asleep. He walked around to the other side of the bed, lowering himself into a chair across from her. Even in the low light he could see the salty tracks of tears on her cheeks and the puffiness of her eyes. Just as he was about to take her hand, her eyelids slid open to reveal her bloodshot eyes, further evidence of her misery. He couldn't recall ever seeing her look quite so sad.
"Luke…you're here." It was a simple statement, with neither a positive or negative connotation. She sat up slightly, leaning on one arm, ducking her head as if avoiding his gaze, while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
As much as Luke wanted to gather her in his arms, he wasn't sure how angry she was and he got the impression that she wasn't comfortable with him seeing that she had been so upset. He put his hand on her shoulder and said softly, "As long as you're awake, let me go get us some food. I'll be right back." With a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, he started to get up. Before he could stand, Lorelai reached for his hand, holding on for a moment, whispering a thank you before releasing it.
When he returned, the drapes were open, the room brighter. Lorelai sat on the bed, looking more composed. He sat next to her, putting his hand on her knee. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine," she answered, after a moment's pause, then deflected any further questioning by asking, "You got food?"
He offered her a small tentative smile. "Yeah. Just some soup and salad. I got some bread too."
"That sounds perfect."
They ate their food sitting on the bed, Luke leaning against the headboard and Lorelai cross-legged to his side, facing him. Other than the necessities of passing food, they spoke little, until Luke finished his soup and set it aside. Turning back, he saw her looking at him, her eyes sad. He met her gaze and said simply, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" There was no bitterness or anger in her voice, just simple curiosity.
He took a breath before answering, to give himself another moment to figure out what had been his biggest transgression. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the dinners with Rory."
Something in her expression told him that she'd been hoping for a different answer. "Why didn't you?"
"She asked me not to," he said, regretting the agreement he'd made with Rory. "I tried to get her to call you."
"But she didn't." Her voice sounded resigned. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not really. It's just," Lorelai pinched the bridge of her nose, then let her hands fall to the bed in a gesture of defeat. "I don't feel like I even know her anymore. And the thing is, I don't know when she started changing. How did I miss it? When did this happen? When did she stop being Rory?"
"For what it's worth, I think that she's wondering the same things, trying to figure out how things got so out of control." He looked down, taking her hand in his, circling his thumb around her palm. "You know, you're still the one whose opinion matters most to her."
Lorelai lifted her head to meet his eyes, then asked softly, "What? She told you that?"
He shrugged. "You can see how lost she is just looking at her. And the rest…I was just listening to what she said."
"What did you talk about?" He heard a touch of jealousy and he realized just how much it hurt Lorelai to no longer be Rory's confidante.
"Mostly about her community service job at the daycare center. She asked me about what was going on in the town."
"And she expected you to know?" she asked sarcastically.
He had to smile at that, but then added gently, "She asked about you."
"Yeah?" She sounded encouraged.
"She wanted to know how you were doing, if I'd talked to you, so I told her some of the stuff you told me about the inn. Mostly though, it was just small talk."
"Small talk? You? Really?" she teased.
He gave her a rueful smile, his head tilted to the side, then sighed. "Well, it was more talk on her end."
"And you listened, just like always," Lorelai sighed sadly.
"Apparently, not always," he countered, his voice apologetic.
"Luke-"
He cut her off, not willing to let her brush that off as well. "I'm sorry about that too."
"No, I'm sorry. You've been nothing but supportive and I yelled at you for it. I was just upset about Rory and I took it out on you." She looked at him, eyes pleading.
"That's not all it is." He said this with a quiet certainty and her look turned evasive. "Can we give it another try? Tell me what's really going on and why you're so unhappy here?"
"I just overreacted. I'm not unhappy. It's just…I'm fine." Her look begged him to drop it, which meant, of course, that she was anything but fine. Luke knew from experience, though, that this was her way of ending the conversation, at least temporarily, so he didn't respond. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and from the desperate way she held him, it seemed that she needed that most of all.
They sat quietly then, in the darkening room, she with her head against his chest, he with his arms around her. Luke had no idea how much time had passed when Lorelai lifted her head and looked him in the eye, "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
She leaned in and kissed him deeply, her fingers tightly gripping his arms. He pulled back reluctantly, craving the feel of her lips on his, but not wanting to push himself on her. She gave him a curious look then rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. He could feel the heat of her hand burning into his chest and then the hot patterns she traced with her fingers. The slow circles continued and after a few minutes, her fingers continued their path up to his neck and along his jawline. She pressed kisses up his throat until she reached his mouth, parting her lips to draw him in, while continuing her caresses. He yielded to her and she turned her body toward his. "I thought I could turn you on if I tried. Let's not the opportunity go to waste," she whispered in a low, breathless voice.
"Lorelai, we don't have to," he said gently, running the backs of his fingers across her cheek.
She looked wounded. "You don't want me?"
The look on her face made his heart ache. "I didn't say that. I just understand if you don't feel like it."
"Oh, I feel like it, and now I'm going to make you feel like it too." She pressed hot kisses along his jaw and throat, as she shifted to straddle his lap.
"Somehow, I don't think that's going to be a problem," he teased.
"Good," she said, the seriousness in her tone taking him by surprise, letting him know that whatever was going on here had nothing to do with playfulness or fun. She focused on him with taut determination, her touches and kisses a tangible reminder of just how well she knew him. Feeding off his moans and sighs, she persisted almost feverishly, only allowing him brief opportunities to reciprocate.
In a breathless voice she asked him over and over what he wanted, what he needed, ignoring his attempts to turn the question back to her. Not fully understanding what she was thinking, but knowing that for some reason this was necessary, he surrendered to her, let her take charge. And in the end, as she moved above him and begged to hear him, everything he felt for her burst from his lips in great gasps of love, desire and need.
As she relaxed into his embrace, he felt the tension leave her body. Her breath whispered against his neck as she spoke, "I love you, Luke. You know that, right?" Her words revealed a quiet anxiety.
He leaned up on one arm so he could push the hair away from her face and look into her eyes, which swam with uncertainty and sadness. His voice was soft and concerned. "Of course. I love you too."
"Really?"
The intensity of the question tugged at him and he pulled her to him until he could feel the beat of her heart against his. "Absolutely."
"Good," she sighed, her breath tickling the hairs on his neck. Luke pressed a kiss to her temple and lay back, relieved to have her back in his arms again, even as he worried about all she hadn't told him. "Hey, Luke?" he heard her whisper softly.
"Yeah."
"I'm not going to run off on you. Maybe that's what the town thinks I'm doing, but I'm not. You know that, right?" Her voice sounded almost desperate.
"Of course I don't think that," he reassured, smoothing her hair. "And I can't imagine anyone else thinks that either." It wasn't that he worried she would leave him. It was more that he worried she would sacrifice her happiness to stay.
The following day was spent doing more sightseeing around Stirling and planning their jaunt to the Isle of Skye. Lorelai looked like a toned down version of herself, as if someone had used a dimmer switch to lower the level of brilliance of her typical inner spark. She wasn't as quick with her comebacks and Luke found himself setting himself up in an attempt to bring back the banter. There were moments of quiet contemplation, during which she looked off into the distance and he could tell her mind was somewhere else. She clung to him a bit more tightly than usual, always with his hand in hers, or her arm looped around his elbow. Lorelai had always been affectionate, but there was a touch of something new in the gestures, a need that both encouraged and worried him.
At lunch, Luke watched Lorelai, at a loss for a way to improve her mood, to bring back the lightness to her eyes. He knew that so much of her stress was due to the situation with Rory and he desperately wanted to bring the two of them together, to at least give some purpose to their horrendous fight the previous day.
Knowing what he wanted to say, but not thinking clearly about the best way to phrase it, he blurted, "You should call Rory." Lorelai's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth falling slightly open. Luke shook his head and closed his eyes, bracing himself for her response, "I mean…I shouldn't…" He wanted to kick himself for the presumption in his words.
"If she wanted to talk to me, she would've called," Lorelai said sullenly, but not sounding completely convinced. She looked down at her plate, where she was poking at bits of meat with her fork.
"She's trying. She sent you a letter. It's a start," he pleaded, willing her to look up at him.
"I just don't get why it's so hard to call me. Why doesn't she want to talk to me?" She had stabbed one piece of chicken and was sliding it slowly around her plate.
"She's the one who screwed up," Luke said softly, "and she knows it."
Lorelai looked up at that, her expression soft but sad. "I just don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to go back to what we had."
"You won't get there all at once."
She stared at him, her expression unreadable and he wondered suddenly if he had tread too far. After a long moment, she turned to look in her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and after shooting Luke a quick glance, got up from the table and walked in the direction of her office. That she had given in without more of a fight spoke volumes about her mood.
Luke had almost finished eating by the time she returned about ten minutes later. He gave her a questioning look as she sat down.
Sighing, she spoke without emotion, "It was fine. She told me a little about the day care center. I told her a little about the inn. She…uh…said she missed me. I'm going to call her a couple times a week about this time."
Luke tried very hard not to appear too eager. "That's good, right?"
"I guess, though I suspect she chose that time because it's morning there and she won't have time for a long chat." She shrugged. "Anyway, it's done. Now, what was this about the Wallace Monument? If you want me to climb that with you, we better go before I realize what you've talked me into."
Her tone was final, and Luke knew the conversation was over.
Later that night, when Luke pulled out the Holy Grail in an attempt to hear her laugh, he saw her eyes dance for the first time that day. They sat close together on the bed, Lorelai's laptop resting on Luke's outstretched legs, Lorelai chuckling and eagerly pointing out any glimpse of the now-familiar castle. He thrilled to see her smiling. When exhaustion started to overtake her, and Luke teased her about falling asleep during the movie, she just responded with a crack that it was his fault for making her climb the stupid tower. Frankly, he had been surprised she'd agreed to it. If he hadn't already been clued into the change in her demeanor, her willingness to participate in anything remotely resembling exercise would have been a sure clue that something was off.
Luke pulled her so that she could lean on his chest, his fingers brushing her hair back from her face and gently stroking her back, trying to sooth away her worries. They were only halfway through the movie when her breathing evened out into that of a deep sleep. Luke stopped the DVD and set her computer aside, then turned and laid her gently on the pillows. Even in her sleep, she reached for him and held tightly, as if afraid to let go.
To be continued