1He pulls the door shut, the click sounding loud in the sudden silence.
Walking quickly to the kitchen, she starts to make coffee, her movements unconscious and practiced. She notices her hands shaking as she takes two mugs out of the cabinet. She takes a calming breath and places a tentative smile on her face before turning to face him.
"I'll make you some tea," she states, needing to keep busy, to get her nerves to settle.
"I'll have coffee," he answers, still looking serious and tired.
"You don't drink coffee," she answers.
"I've started having a cup a day, in the morning. It helps wake me up," he says with a shrug.
"Really?" she says surprised. If there was one thing she thought Luke would never compromise on, it would be coffee consumption.
"I like it," he says defensively.
"Well, you do make wonderful coffee," she smirks.
"Secret ingredient," he smirks back.
Pouring him a cup she places it in front of him and slides into the nearest kitchen chair. It's so strange to have him sitting here. It's so strange to be making him coffee, to have him drinking coffee. What else has he changed in his life?
"It's good," he says, obviously enjoying it.
"Secret ingredient," she whispers, raising her eyebrows at him. "I have skills you know."
"I never doubted that for a minute," he says, serious again.
They lapse into silence for a minute or two, both trying to process. It's like her verbal skills have just flown out the window, making her feel exposed and vulnerable without her blanket of witty babble. And the tension in the room grows as she leaves him to start the talking.
"What was that last night Lorelai?" he says finally.
"Well, that's straight to the point," she answers, jumping up from the table to refill her cup. And her hands shake even more this time. She doesn't sit, she's unable to relax. She leans against the kitchen counter, her hands clenched on the coffee cup.
"I don't know," she says, not meeting his eyes, afraid of seeing the censure there.
"Come on Lorelai, I need to know what you're thinking."
"Luke, I can't. . . explain it."
Standing now he approaches her, but she still doesn't look at him.
"Just say it. Don't try to sugar coat it. Just say what you were feeling."
"God Luke, you make it sound so easy. Just spill your guts Loreali, cause he's going to just stand there and understand and everything's going to be all new and pretty," she answers sarcastically, slamming the cup down on the counter.
"I know everything's not going to be new or pretty Lorelai, give me some credit here," he says in a tired voice, walking over to the sink to rinse his coffee cup, not reacting to her angry outburst.
And there's something about the ease he's showing with her things that is bugging her, although she's not really sure why it should. After all, this house was practically his, her things practically his things, but that was another time and place and now it just feels invasive.
"I just wanted. . . . no . . . I just needed to . . . ," she stumbles over the words to explain her motives, but she just can't find the words, doesn't want to explain herself now, especially when he's moved so close to her she can almost reach out and touch him.
"Loreali," he starts again, using his soothing voice, his I know you want to tell me voice, reaching out to her.
But she backs into the corner of the room, out of his grasp, a feeling of panic overwhelming her.
Taking a deep breath, she starts again, "I needed a different ending. . . to us. I didn't want it to end with the memory of someone else between us. I needed it to at least end. . . honestly. Damn it Luke, you were supposed to be gone this morning. You weren't supposed to be on the front porch, you aren't supposed to be here in my kitchen, drinking my coffee."
"So, this. . . " he gestures wildly, "is just a different ending to the story. Is that it?" and she can see the anger he's holding in check.
"I don't know. I convinced myself that it was, that I could handle that, that I was okay with that. Last night, it was . . . perfect. It was everything I wanted, you were everything I wanted. And even though you didn't tell me you loved me, it was okay, it was what I deserved, it was . . . enough. It was more than I ever thought I'd have again. . . "
"God Loreali. Don't you think I tried. I just couldn't get the words to come out. And it's not that I wasn't feeling them, I just . . ." he trails off, pacing away from her, his back turned.
"I just needed . . . to know first. . ." he stops, taking a deep breath, and turns to look in her eyes from across the room.
"I needed to know that you still loved me. I needed it more than breathing. I needed your voice,
your words telling me over and over. God, that sounds so selfish," he ends, shrugging his shoulders, shaking his head.
"No. It doesn't. I understood," she answers. "I was awake when you left. I stayed in bed forever just going over and over everything in my head. And I understood your needs Luke, I've always understood."
"Because this wasn't the first time I disappointed you, was it? This isn't the first time I left you waiting for more from me, is it?" he asks.
"Luke, don't. . .you don't have to do this. . ."
"I got as far as the stairs and I couldn't walk down them. I just couldn't walk away. And believe me, I've practiced being the one to walk away in my mind a million times," he answers, mocking himself.
"So I just sat there, thinking. Thinking about all the times I should have told you, should have let you in. I didn't want to be that guy again. You know, the guy that knows exactly what you need, but he just holds back, just enough to make you crazy, to make you doubt. And it's not like he doesn't know what he's doing, he does, he just. . . he just can't . . . "
"Luke, it's okay," she placates, not wanting him to do this, not able to process this yet.
"Damn it Lorelai, it's not okay. I don't want to be that guy anymore. I'm ashamed of that guy. And I'm ashamed when you tell me it's okay, when it's not okay. It was never okay. I get that," he answers, his anger surfacing.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore," she sighs.
"It's not pretty, is it?" he mocks.
"No, it's not," she agrees.
"God, look at us Luke. I've backed myself into this corner, you've paced yourself into that one," gesturing to him across the room. "We're so afraid of getting hurt, of hurting each other. We are so not ready for any of this."
"What are we ready for?" he asks quietly.
"It's been okay, being on my own. It's been good, really to not have to plan or expect anything from anyone else but myself, to just take things a day at a time."
"I've missed you," he whispers under his breath.
And her heart leaps at the sound of his confession, at his honesty. And she knows her words about being alone have hurt him.
"I've missed you too," she answers, smiling at him through the pain. "I've missed coming into the diner. I've missed your coffee. I've missed you showing up to fix something. I've missed your fights with Taylor. I've missed telling you about Rory or complaining to you about my parents . . . "
"We can still have all those things Lorelai," he interrupts, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Can we Luke, really? Can we still be friends?" she asks skeptically.
"Will you come to the diner?" he challenges, knowing that will be hard for her, maybe too hard.
"I don't' know. Maybe," she shrugs, knowing she really wants to, but it seems like such a huge thing right now.
"When you're ready, I'll be there," he says gently.
"Okay. Will you come and finish the boat?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"Will you take me for a ride when it's done?" she asks coyly.
"Sure," he laughs, "someone has to find out whether it will float or not."
"Sink or swim, I'll with you," she quips.
"Sink or swim," he nods in agreement.
And she knows it's still not pretty, but it's more than what she'd hoped for.
tbc
