Luncheons, Laundry, and Other L-Words
One week later Emily Gilmore sat at her little desk in the front parlor and talked to her day planner. At least it seemed like she was talking to her day planner, since that's what she was looking at, but Lorelai allowed to herself that there was a slight possibility that the words were actually aimed at her.
"So next Sunday you and Rory will come to the Library Association's luncheon," Emily instructed. Lorelai grimaced; she'd had to make an unavoidable stop at the Gilmore residence because she'd left her scarf the night before at dinner, and it looked like Emily wasn't going to let her escape without losing an eye or agreeing to attend another social event- maybe both.
"Well, we'll try, Mom- you know how much Rory loves libraries- but don't get your heart set on it. We're so busy these days, with school and work, you know…" it was the lamest excuse ever, she decided, and she wouldn't even tell Rory about it because it would be too humiliating. Where was her creativity, her stock answers she had filed away, ready to whip out the moment her mother mentioned the word 'schedule'? She pondered and came to the conclusion that she'd been careless. She'd been ignoring Fate too much recently, not paying Her enough respect. She'd been so happy, truly, unbelievably happy for the last seven-days-fourteen-hours-and-eleven-minutes since she'd kissed Luke, and Fate obviously didn't like it. Fate was a force to be feared, to be treated with caution and deference, and now Lorelai was going to pay for her disobedience through Fate's evil minion, Emily Gilmore.
"Of course you'll come, Lorelai, you can spare two hours to support a worthy cause, and Rory will love it," Emily was firm. Personally Lorelai had a different opinion on Rory's feelings of the situation, but with a supreme effort she remained quiet. Better to let Fate win this one, bow out gracefully, wave the white flag- and prepare fiercely for the next encounter.
"We'll work it in," she told her mother reluctantly, but she couldn't help adding, "At least I won't have to worry about losing the money to feed us by not working that day- you said there'd be lunch, right?" One little jab at Fate now won't make much of a difference, she thought as she edged towards the door.
"Good," Emily said, satisfied. "And bring Luke."
Lorelai felt the blow like a fist to her stomach. "L-Luke?" Damn Fate and her cruel unforgiving ways. "Why would I bring Luke?"
"Because you're in a relationship with him, and it is now appropriate that we see him socially," Emily said condescendingly, as if everyone knew. Which was funny, since Lorelai was pretty sure she had not shared that headline with her mother.
"What makes you think I'm in a relationship with Luke?" Lorelai argued, completely unconvincingly.
"I'm your mother, Lorelai, much as you try to deny it. I know these things."
"Wow, those are some pretty incredible powers you got there," Lorelai joked half-heartedly. Emily knew- there was no way on earth, short of her mother suddenly being struck by lightning which would reduce her IQ to Jessica Simpson's level, that she was going to be able to talk herself out of this one.
"Well?" Emily just looked at Lorelai, an insufferable know-it-all expression on her face. She knew that she'd been right about Luke and Lorelai, and Lorelai hated that she was right almost as much as she hated that Emily knew she was right.
"Well, beware, young Jedi, lest the strength of your powers seduce you and lead you to the dark side," was her only response. No way she was having a heart-to-heart mother-daughter thing about Luke. No way.
Emily ignored her comment and plowed on mercilessly. "Do you love him?"
"What?" Lorelai couldn't believe what she was hearing. First, she didn't think her mother had the word 'love' in her vocabulary, and second, what?
"Do you love him," Emily repeated, a small smile on her face.
"Who?" Lorelai decided to play dumb, confuse her prey, then make a break for it.
"Luke," Emily said impatiently.
"Skywalker?" Lorelai clarified. "Not really- I mean, I kind of had a thing for him way back in the eighties, but he really wasn't my type. Too short, kissed his sister, that kind of thing."
"You don't know yet," Emily realized, smiling softly but superiorly and tapping her finger against her lips thoughtfully. "Never mind. I do."
Lorelai didn't think about her mother's words as she drove into the center of Hartford ten minutes later. She didn't think about it as she found the address for the laundry company that did the sheets, pillowcases, towels, and tablecloths for the Inn. She didn't think about it as Julio explained for the third time that the delivery-van guy had had an accident, which put not only the delivery-van guy out of action for a while, but the delivery van as well. She didn't think about it as she settled the bill, getting 25 percent off for picking up the order herself and multiple thanks, and she didn't think about it as she watched two rather cute guys load the linen into the back of the jeep.
She spent thirty minutes in the car on the way home not thinking about it, and all that it entailed. She couldn't believe that Emily knew already- how in the name of Alanis Morrisette had she found out so quickly? She had been careful in the two phone conversations she'd had with her mother not to mention Luke, even in a non-romantically-related way. She'd sworn Rory to secrecy before dinner last night, and obviously she herself hadn't told anyone.
My mother is a mind reader, she finally decided, exhausted from the guessing game she was playing and determined not to think about it anymore. She used the L-word, her inner voice reminded; she then berated herself for thinking about it again. I can't believe she used the L-word. Why, oh why, would she use the L-word? I haven't used the L-word. I haven't thought about the L-word. Okay, that's so not true, of course I've thought about the L-word, it's Luke. It's Luke, and he's wonderful, and kind, and generous, and honest, and loyal, (and gorgeous, by the way), and considerate, and always there. He's also pretty handy with a hammer (dirty!) and a coffee pot, he makes a mean stack of pancakes, he takes care of Rory, he gives me advice even when I don't want it, he'd do anything for me. For us. Do I… the L-word… him? Frustrated, she hit the steering wheel. How am I going to tell him, if I ever figure it out, if I can't even say it to myself? Do I…lo…do I…lov…do I…love him? Man, what a question. A loaded, double-barreled, forty-four caliber question. And isn't it too soon to be thinking about not thinking about this? Luke and I are dating. Luke and I have been dating for a week. One week. Seven days. Yeah, and I've known Luke for seven years. That's plenty of time to figure out if you love somebody, right? You know absolutely everything about the person- well, that's not really true in this case, but the CIA couldn't get everything out of Luke- and you figure that the stuff that's going to drive you crazy is already driving you crazy, but you can live with it. We're already friends. That's a pretty solid foundation right there, Bob Vila…and we figured out pretty damn quick that the physical side of the relationship works, too. She promptly lost her train of thought, her mind slipping back into daydreams and memories of that first night- after they had had dinner, as per Luke's insistence. She grinned. 'Having dinner' had instantly become a euphemism for the after-dinner activities, and that had turned out to be a five-star restaurant.
She had never, ever, had to think about this before. There had only been two guys, in her entire life, that the problem could even relate to. One- Christopher, and that was easy. Of course she loved him, he was her daughter's father. So she didn't love love him, like want to marry him love him- at least, not anymore, but she didn't have to think about whether or not he fit in the list of Top Ten People That I Would Rescue From a Desert Island. Two- Max. Max…that was a painful subject. She didn't have to think about whether or not she loved him, because at the back of her mind she had always known she didn't, even before Luke built her that chuppah and it had belatedly hit her that if she married Max she would always be married to Max, and uh-oh, maybe she didn't want that after all. The chuppah made her think of Luke, and she was back to the L-word dilemma. Not the L-word the Showtime drama, the other one. But it was scary to think about it, and she didn't want to think about it, so she didn't think about it, all the way home.