The Gilmore-Grey Union

By Michael Weyer

POV: Lorelei

I'm at the desk at the Inn, going over the latest budget figures when the phone rings. I pick it up absently, my mind figuring out how to keep Michel from spitting out French curses when he sees how much our inventory is going to cost this month. "Hello?"

"Mom?"

I instantly forget Michel and his mangling of the English and French languages as I hear Rory's voice. It's been a while since I heard it at all but I instantly catch the fear and worry in it. "Rory? Um, hi. What's up?"

"Mom…I think we need to talk. Um…are you sitting down?"

Being asked if you're sitting down is never a good way to start a conversation so my foreboding level is already high when I walk to a nearby table. "Why? What's going on, honey?"

"Mom…I got married."

I blink.

I blink again.

"Um…weirdosayswhat?"

"I got married. I was drinking and…"

I'm gonna kill him. I am going to hunt this man down and kill him. "Oh, God. Oh, God. You and Logan got married? Oh, no, oh bad, bad, bad…"

"It's not Logan."

"Worse, worse, worse…" I stop as her words hit me. "Wait. Who was it then?"

"Um…his name is Vincent Grey. He's an author, I think I showed you his book once."

"Was it the Motley Crue bio?"

"No."

"Oh, don't know him." Wait…"Honey, how did you…"

"Like I said, I was drinking and then…well…it's sort of a blur and we woke up with the rings and the certificate and, well…"

"Oh my God, Rory, please, please, please tell me there's a hidden camera around here and Ashton Kutcher is coming out to laugh at me!"

"Nope."

"Wilmer Valderrama?"

"Nope."

"Oh, God. Oh, God, Rory, what…how…You're too young to get married! Not that you're at any right age to get married when drunk but…"

"I know, I know. Mom, we just woke up and found out and we're trying to figure this out ourselves. It's…It's a lot to take in."

"Oh, really, you think?" I don't mean for it to sound so sarcastic but my self-control is non-existent at the moment. "Well, you know you're not going through with it. Get a divorce, get an annulment, get a bullet into his head, whatever it takes!"

"Should I call Grandpa's lawyer?"

"NO!" I'm aware of everyone staring at me but I don't care. "No, no, Rory, please, I beg of you, don't tell your grandparents."

"Um…I think they may suspect something if I get pregnant, Mom."

"Rory, don't…just…please, please…" I slump forward, rubbing my face. "How could you do this?" I whisper. "You're smarter than me! Even I didn't do anything this incredibly stupid!"

"You got pregnant with me when you were 16! And you didn't get married!"

"Oh and so you thought you'd make up for that? Whatever happened to just a card for my birthday?"

"I wanted to call you first, to tell you first, to let you know what happened." I can hear a tremble in her voice as she goes on. "But if all you're going to do is run me down and treat me like Grandma taught you, then…then…maybe I'll just take my chances with married life."

I hear a loud click as she disconnects. I stand there, stunned. That last comment hurt, mostly because it was true. I swore I would never be like my mother and now…

Now Rory's done something that in some ways is even worse than what happened to me.

Oh, God, I can't think. I can't handle this, I…I need coffee. I need help.

I need Luke.

"Michel, you're in charge!" I yell as I pick up my purse and head for the door.

"Excuse me?" he whines. "Why should I----"

I whirl on him and give him my best evil glare. "Michel…no lip or I'm calling Homeland Security and reporting you've got a photo of Saddam in your room."

"You are a cruel mistress but-----" I don't wait for the rest, I just storm out and to my place of refuge and good coffee.