If One of Us Had Been a Frog
Chapter Sixteen: The Party's Over
Disclaimer: Duh.
Summary: He loves being the person she comes to for help.
A/N: In case you haven't noticed, I'm not doing this in order. Where's the fun in that anyway?
Please review.
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Rory Gilmore was always the kid who started projects the day they were assigned. She spent more time in the library then she spent at the mall. She spent more money on books then she did on make up. There was more college paraphernalia on her walls, then there was posters of bands or celebrities.
Rory Gilmore used to work at her mother's Inn after school. She wore t-shirts and jeans, and a bracelet that her boyfriend made for her. She sat under trees and read for hours each day. She wore sun tan lotion in the summer, and didn't wear skirts that were too short. She didn't throw parties when her mother wasn't home, and she was nice to everyone.
She didn't wear diamonds unless they were fake and cost under $5. Her mother made her dresses for her. She had never ridden in a limo in her entire life, and never really wanted to. She didn't wear shoes that hurt her feet or were hard to walk in. She never felt the need to do anything fancy with her hair. She had never stolen anything, not even a candy bar when she was younger. She hadn't been drunk more than twice, and never with people she had just met.
But, maybe, that was the old Rory.
Maybe she was changing. Maybe this was how things would be from now on. Maybe Rory had already chosen her path.
She just always assumed Rory wouldn't choose that path. Lorelai had run away from that path, just so Rory wouldn't be forced down it. But, what if she chose it on her own?
Lorelai watched as her daughter stumbled out of a limo, full of guys that she had never met, and headed towards the house. She stopped to wave a drunken goodbye to her new friends, and then continued to stumble up the steps and into the house.
"Whoa." She said, as she swung the door open. "Hi, Mom." She said, happily.
"Rory…" Lorelai said. She stared at her daughter's face, wondering if it was really her daughter. "What happened?" She asked, walking towards her. "I thought you were going out with Dean, tonight." She said.
"Dean broke up with me." Rory told her.
"Honey…" Lorelai said, sympathetically, as she tried to hug her daughter.
Rory shoed her away. "No Mom, it's OK, I had fun." She told her.
Lorelai could feel her stomach drop. This wasn't supposed to happen. Emily wasn't supposed to be right.
Rory began stumbling down the hall, and towards the kitchen. Lorelai followed her.
"I'll thank Grandma and Grandpa in the morning." Rory assured her mother. It just killed her more.
"I'm tired. I'm going to go sleep." Rory said.
Lorelai watched her bedroom door shut. She didn't like this.
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"Hello?" Luke's groggy voice answered.
She had woken him up. She could tell. She felt bad for disturbing him. She almost considered hanging up, but she knew he'd just call her back.
"Hi."
"Hey, are you OK?" He asked, as he seemed more awake now. Great, now she had him worried.
"Um, yeah… I just…" She began. She wasn't sure what to say.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Nothing, I just… Could you come over?" She asked.
"Is everything OK?" He asked. He sounded really worried, now.
"Yeah, Luke, it's fine… I… You don't have early deliveries tomorrow, and… I have this huge cheesecake, and I know that I could eat the entire thing, but you know, that's sort of unhealthy, so I thought you could come over and share with me." She told him, trying to lighten up this entire situation. She didn't want him to flip out.
"Lorelai…" He began. Something was up. He knew that much.
"Please?" She asked.
And that was enough.
Lorelai was always independent. She hardly ever asked for help. So, when she calls and asks him to come over, he's at her house in less than four minutes. He knows that when she asks for help, she really needs it 1,000 times more than she says she does.
And he loves to be the guy she comes to when she needs help.
"That was fast." She commented, when she opened the front door.
"You live around the corner." He said.
"You were sleeping." She commented, when she saw he was wearing his pajamas under his old, army jacket.
He shrugged. "I was lying down."
She smiled. She knew he was lying.
"C'mon." She said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. The cheesecake was sitting on an Angry Beavers plate, on the coffee table. There were two forks beside it, and two cups of tea.
"Tea?" He commented.
"Yeah. It's the kind you have at your place." She told him, sitting closely beside him on the couch.
"You bought it?" He asked.
She nodded. He smiled.
"You went grocery shopping?" He asked, with an amused look on his face.
"Does that turn you on?" She asked, trying to forget why she really asked him to come over. It was much easier to just sit and joke with him, then to tell him all the things she was feeling. If she said them out loud, if she told somebody, then she'd have to admit that they were true, that Emily Gilmore might be right, that her daughter might be going down the path she had run away from.
"Maybe." He quipped. He knew it was hard for her to ask for help. He knew it might take a while. He knew he would sit beside her, eat cheesecake, and joke with her, until she was ready.
She smiled and kissed him. She had just meant for it to be a peck on the lips, but Luke must have had other plans. He placed his hand on her hip, and deepened the kiss. She finally relaxed as he kissed her. His lips were always so soft. He was always so gentle, so loving. He always made her feel better, comforted, more relaxed.
She finally pulled away, but smiled while her face was still inches from his. They kissed once more, this time it was quick, but still completely perfect.
"Thanks." She said, without even thinking that he may not understand what she was talking about.
But, he did.
She reached over and got the plate of cheesecake and the two forks. She handed him one, then moved her legs over his lap, and leaned against the armrest. She put the plate on her lap, and began eating.
He took a few bites, but mostly just watched her eat.
Then, he wondered where Rory was. She was supposed to be here tonight, wasn't she?
"Where's Rory?" He asked, wondering if that's why Lorelai had asked him over here? Did something happen to Rory?
"Sleeping." She answered, simply, without even looking up at him.
She took a few more bites, and then realized he hadn't said anything in a while. She looked up at him. "Full?" She asked.
He nodded. "What am I going to do with you, Luke?" She asked, jokingly. "You only had two bites."
"I had more than 2." He told her, wishing they could stop this, and just talk about what was really wrong here. But, he knew that nothing was that simple when you're dating Lorelai Gilmore.
"Fine. 5. But, they were tiny, tiny, microscopic bites."
He rolled his eyes.
She put the plate down on the table, and looked back at him.
"My feet are cold." She told him, before he had the chance to say anything.
He reached over and grabbed the blanket that was folded next to him. "Better?" He asked.
She nodded. "Thanks." She said, again.
He nodded, and pushed a lock of hair behind her ears.
"So, you finally got Liz and TJ out?" She asked, before he asked why he was there.
"Yep. It took a while, but they eventually ran out of things to throw at each other, and made up." He told her.
"That's good." She told him, leaning up against the back of the couch.
"Yep. My sister and her screwed up relationships…" He commented.
"They seem happy, though." She said. "You know, when TJ's not wearing Liz's shoes and they're not throwing clothes hangers at each other."
"Yeah." Luke agreed. It was true. His sister did seem happy with TJ. But, that got him thinking. Him and Lorelai were happy, right?
He knew he was happy, but, she was happy, too, right?
"Hey." He said.
"Yeah?"
"You're happy, right?" He asked. It wasn't something he would normally say out loud. Maybe he was overtired. Maybe whatever Lorelai wasn't saying was freaking him out. He didn't know.
She gave him a strange look. Like, she couldn't believe he just asked her that. Maybe he shouldn't have.
She was shocked. He seriously didn't know? She thought that, maybe she had been doing some things rights. Maybe Rory was doing things she didn't approve of, but she had Luke, so she must be doing some things right. Wrong.
He didn't know? He really didn't know.
"I can't believe you have to ask me that." She told him, a little harsher than she meant it to be. "I'm just, I'm not doing anything right today, am I?"
He stayed silent.
She shook her head. She was doing this wrong.
"Luke…" She began, and reached up and touched his cheek. "So happy." She told him, softly, and waited for any indication that he believed her.
He did.
"Good." He told her.
"Good." She nodded.
They didn't say much after that. He gently played with her hair, and she relaxed and closed her eyes.
They stayed like that for a while, until Lorelai began getting tired. "Upstairs?" She asked him, opening her eyes.
"Rory's home." He reminded her.
She sighed. He was still going by that, no sleepovers while Rory is home, rule of his? She hated that rule. That rule made her bed cold, and lonely.
"Rory won't care, Luke. She wants you to stay here." Lorelai said.
"She said that?" Luke asked, doubtfully.
"Well… You staying here makes her mother happy, and don't you think she would want her mother happy?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Please?" She asked him.
And that was enough.
"C'mon." He said, starting to pick her up and leading her towards the steps.
"Luke, you're going to hurt yourself." She told him.
"I'm fine. You're light."
"Oh, you're definitely getting some tonight, Mister." She joked, as he began climbing the stairs.
"Luke, you're going to hurt your back." She told him, as he went up the first couple stairs.
"Are you fishing for compliments?" He asked her.
"Maybe." She answered. "But if you get arthritis, don't blame me." She told him, before he set her down on the bed.
"Oh, I won't." He told her.
She patted the spot next to her, inviting him under the covers with her.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
She sighed. "Luke, Rory won't care, trust me. And even if she does, she's not going to wake up until noon tomorrow, and she'll be too hung over to even notice that the house smells like Luke slept over smell."
"What?" He asked. She lost him.
She sighed. "Rory." She told him. "She came home pretty drunk tonight." Lorelai said.
Luke sat beside her. He guessed that this was it. The look on her face, confirmed it for him. "She got drunk at your parent's house?" He asked.
She nodded. "Yep. She stole my Dad's scotch, she drank with a million guys she just met, she broke up with Dean, she came home wearing a tiara and a necklace that is worth more than my house." Lorelai ranted.
Luke knew there was more. He waited, while gently rubbing her back.
"A limo came up driveway tonight. That has never happened before. I'm standing by the window wondering what the hell is going on, when Rory stumbles out, along with five or six guys I've never seen before, all dressed in color shirts and nice pants. She's wearing all this jewelry, and I don't know, acting like these rich, snobs are her friends, and then she comes inside and tells me Dean broke up with her, but she had such a nice time and she'll thank Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow." Lorelai said. "And I don't know… I mean, I had just gotten off the phone with my mother, telling her that Rory would chose her own path and she shouldn't force one down her throat… and then, then I see my daughter, in those clothes, in that limo, with those guys, and I don't know. I just… I always expected Rory to want the same path that I wanted. I mean, I never, I just… I never expected her to want that same life that I ran away from." Lorelai said.
"Just because she had a good time doesn't mean she's going down that path or choosing that life." He told her. "She was drunk. Everything seems more fun when there is alcohol involved." He said. "Tomorrow, she'll wake up, feeling like crap, and she'll regret the entire night. She'll think about Dean and what happened, and she'll come to you, so you can put on a movie, stuff junk food down her throat and make her feel better." He told her.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he stroked her hair.
"It'll be OK." He told her.
"Thanks." She whispered.
"Thank you." He told her, without even thinking that she might no understand.
She did.
He wanted to thank her for letting him help, for letting him in. He wanted to thank her for letting him comfort her, for wanting him to comfort her.
He loved being the person she came to for help. And she loved it, too.
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Yep, so, another one down… 8 more to go? Oh man.
So yeah, I have to go write an essay about Ethan Frome. That book is so weird. He's like in love with his wife's cousin, and they try to sled into a tree, and I don't know… Blah. I hate writing essays.
Alright, so, please review.