3: Oddly Liberating

Jess still can't get over the look on Luke's face the night before. "You really told her you love her. Huh." Disbelief, yes, but rather than the protective indignation he had been expecting, the lingering impression was pride. Pride, and a hint of admiration stamped across Luke's face and filling his eyes. Pride in his nephew's rejection? No—at his bravery. Stupidity. Risk-taking. Whatever. Doesn't change the fact that it was anything but the reaction Jess had anticipated.

And then the books? Jess has read a lot of books in his lifetime, made a lot of notes in a lot of margins, but thus far, none of them have come equipped with ready-to-answer "Questions for Discussion and Reflection." He hates books that tell you what to think, that lay out the important points in questions reminiscent of an assignment for a freshman English class. He would rather come to his own conclusions, mapping out the themes and subtleties of the words in his scribbled observations. These books that come complete with tapes and a separate workbook are just too anti-literature for him.

Still, he's reading it. He's not sure why he picked it up, let alone why he's reading it in the middle of the town square. Even though the book is well-hidden, he knows that all it would take would be one misplaced page, and it would all be over. He doesn't really care, though, and that that realization is oddly liberating.

Besides, apart from the warm weather (which he's actually enjoying, although he would slug anyone who pointed it out), there are at least two other advantages to sitting here. By placing himself squarely in the middle of Stars Hollow, in full view of everyone, he gives himself an alibi for anything that Taylor might try to pin on him, and he not-so-subtly announces his presence, avoiding any unwanted surprise encounters. Skulking is getting old, anyways.

He turns his attention back to the book, trying his hardest to take the advice seriously, but from the first paragraph, he's having a hard time keeping a straight face, and before he even turns the page, he involuntarily laughs out loud, drawing curious glances from Kirk, who has been pestering Miss Patty for at least twenty minutes, and Grog Girl Annie, who's helping to Ren-nify the town for the wedding. Jess, sitting in the sunshine, in full view of the town, laughing? He must be up to something.

"So this is where Luke has been getting all of this 'my friend Phil' junk from," he thinks. This is all becoming more and more surreal, especially when he looks in the general direction of the diner and sees Luke working with a grin on his face. A grin. Even though he's hunting down wheat stalks, cooking turkey legs, and trying to deal with Taylor, all at the same time. Something's up, and Jess isn't sure what he thinks of this new Luke. It's just… weird, for lack of a better word.

Liz enters the diner, and through the window, Jess watches her greet Luke, and Luke, despite his obviously growing irritation with the turkey legs, comes around the counter and gives her a one-armed hug.

This is what Jess is having the hardest thing wrapping his mind around. He would understand if all of this—the self-help books, the good attitude, the "peace"—was so that he could finally make a move on Lorelai. If that was all this was about, Jess would applaud him, despite his own rocky relationship with her. Anyone with eyes can see that it's about time, and Jess is pretty sure that Luke has got something planned when it comes to Lorelai.

What he doesn't get is how—and why—all this goodwill is spilling over onto Liz. She's been nothing but irresponsible for as long as he can remember, and he knows for a fact that Luke has, more than once, borne the brunt of those choices. Every time Liz' life has fallen apart, Luke has stepped in to pick up the pieces, from bailing her out of jail to loaning her rent money to raising her teenage son.

And somehow, despite all that, Jess is in Stars Hollow because Luke is being Liz' champion once again—trying his best to accept TJ, hunting Jess down in New York to keep Liz from being disappointed on her wedding day, taking care of the details that Liz can't manage on her own.

Jess looks down at the page again, willing the book to give him the answers—even willing it to be as funny as he found it only a few minutes before—but all he sees is another dumb anecdote about Phil and a list of questions that he's not even going to pretend to be interested in. This isn't helping. He's tempted to abandon the book and stick with the "Punk World" that's hiding it, but just as he's ready to make the switch, Lorelai walks by, and he definitely can't bring himself to risk taking the book out where she can see it.

He does, however, meet her eyes as she walks past, searching for… what? A truce? A challenge? An acknowledgement? Jess isn't sure, but he refuses to be the first one to break eye contact. Not that it matters—he doesn't see anything worth looking for. The only thing this encounter leaves him with is no doubt, as if there was any to begin with, that Rory will be well-warned to stay away for as long as Jess is in town. After the last time he saw her, though, he wouldn't have expected her to be overjoyed to see him anyways, so Lorelai's warnings are probably for the best, he thinks.

He sighs, snapping both the book and the magazine shut. It's not doing him any good, and the maypole dancers, not to mention Kirk, are getting on his nerves. Besides, he can only take so much happiness and town frivolity at one time, and he still hasn't had the conversation that he's been intending to have with Liz.

Jess tucks the book inside the magazine, stuffs both of them into his jacket pocket, and heads towards the diner. Luke is still in his unnaturally good mood, teasing Liz about the number of legless turkeys flopping around the tri-state area. They both look up as the bell jingles, and Liz rushes to meet Jess halfway between the door and the counter.

"There he is!" she exclaims, trying to wrap an arm around him. He slides out of her hug, eyes glued to the floor, muttering something about personal space.

Before he can think about it too much and talk himself out of it, he looks straight at Liz and takes a deep breath. "I, uh… I'll walk you down the aisle. If you still want me to."

He may have wormed his way out of a hug before, but this time, there's no escaping Liz' joy as she wraps both arms around Jess and then holds onto him at arm's length, one hand on his cheek, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You hear that, Luke? My baby boy's gonna walk me down the aisle."

Jess holds her gaze for as long as he can, and then backs away, uncomfortable with her eyes still on him, looking at him like she's seeing him for the first time. He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like Luke's trademark, "Aw, geez," and turns away from her, focusing on a spot on the countertop. When he looks up again, he catches Luke's eye and finds that, instead of "Aw geez"-ing, Luke's head is cocked slightly, and he's looking intently at Jess with a half smile on his face.

Liz swipes a finger under her eyes and jumps up from where she's leaning against the counter, as if she's waking up from a dream. "This is amazing! I've got to go tell TJ. Don't burn my turkey legs, Luke," she calls over her shoulder, almost bouncing out of the diner.

The awkward family moment broken, Luke turns away and busies himself with the coffeemaker while Jess stands up and tugs on his jacket slightly self-consciously. "I'm going upstairs," Jess says, crossing the diner in four big steps and pushing aside the curtain. He's halfway around the corner before Luke calls him back.

"Jess?"

He leans back into the diner, poking just his head around the corner. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Jess bobs his head in a half-nod of acknowledgement and takes the stairs to the apartment two at a time. Once inside, he reaches into the dark corner between his bed and the wall, pulls out a backpack, and takes a stack of papers from inside.

Without looking at them, he walks to the chair in front of the TV, sits down, and turns the TV on. The papers are sitting on his lap, unnoticed, for nearly one full mid-day re-run of "Who's the Boss" before Jess even picks them up again, and he spends the first thirty minutes of "Oprah" staring alternately at the papers in his hand and the pictures on the screen in front of him. Finally, he picks up the remote and clicks off the TV, then picks up a pen and begins to write.

"Name; Jess Mariano," he says under his breath, unconsciously, and very uncharacteristically, speaking each word as he writes it. "Date of birth; April 28, 1984. Program and faculty applying for; Certificate in Publishing, NYU School of Continuing and Professional Studies."