Chapter 2: The Wake
Trix
Lorelai had never liked Emily Gilmore. She supposed both she and her granddaughter had that in common. Rory never having had the chance to form the proper opinion (to dislike Emily).
Emily had lacked self-sufficiency to an absurd degree. She'd been conniving and domineering in the worst ways. She had at times been selfish.
Many, many times.
So Lorelai had taken great pleasure in messing with her mind for decades.
Put downs, comparisons with Pennilyn Lott, impossible demands.
Her true triumph however, had been the gift idea.
Dog sculptures, horrible table ornaments, awful furniture. She had sent the lot along with detailed notes on where to place such hideous items in the house.
It had been somewhat sadistic she'd admit.
The trip over ten years ago had been a memorable highlight. The twelve year old Lorelai Victoria Gilmore had made a comment within her hearing of why there was a new lamp when the old one worked fine.
The lamp had of course been a gift for Emily's 30th birthday.
Lorelai would have gladly given her granddaughter her trust right then if the twelve year old could have given her a photo of Emily's uncomfortable face right at that moment.
Emily looked like she was simultaneously severely constipated yet somehow about to have diarrhoea.
So cruel.
But so fun.
Now Emily was dead and Lorelai Beatrix Gilmore was at a complete loss.
Emily might have been a barely adequate wife at the best of times (seldom). Lorelai had never have warmed to her, would never have warmed to her, but her son had still loved her (unfortunately). Even Lorelai would admit that Emily had never lacked vitality, a small degree of wit, or ever looked at Richard with anything but love (depressingly as they'd likely never divorce despite how much Lorelai might have wished it).
Now Emily was a corpse.
At least she could bear to be in the same room as Emily's body. Years of mutual loathing making it far easier. She couldn't stand to be anywhere near the second Lorelai. Her first namesake. She'd avoid the situation fortunately till at least the wake tonight.
When it came to the funeral she was sure she'd be able to wax lyrical about her. She'd paint her Granddaughter as the strong independent young lady she'd been. Refusing all the wealth she'd been entitled to.
Better by far to draw attention to that aspect of her granddaughter. Rather than the other more heart-breaking issue.
How young she was.
Twenty-two was an age for college mishaps. Engagements. Participation in the Brigade if you were a Yale student with wealth, and/or a legacy, as her Granddaughter would have been.
Not death.
Not so young.
Lorelai had organised all the arrangements in the end.
Her son had been too emotionally fragile. Clinging to sanity only by virtue of having to assume a parental role for her Great-Granddaughter. The current quest being the reformation of salad as fit for human consumption for Rory after a successful indoctrination to the contrary by the second Lorelai.
They were fortunately making progress on that front.
So she had taken up the mantle, rather than her son, of the viewing and funeral arrangements instead.
Emily had planned meticulously what should occur. Lorelai was surprised to admit to herself that it was fairly well thought out.
By Emily standards of course.
More impressive, and far more surprising, was how detailed Lorelai Victoria Gilmore's plans had been.
Her Granddaughter had planned things down to the last note of music. The celebration not slightly sombre and prioritising fun. A wake had of course had been deemed essential. For a girl who seemed to run on an impulse the foreword thinking nature of the plan was staggering.
It had almost been an accident finding it though.
Lorelai had met with a Mrs Mia Bass on the 28th, at The Independence Inn in Stars Hollow, to explain the absence of her Granddaughter and Great Granddaughter when they had been expected back just before 11pm on Christmas Day.
Tears had run down The Independence Inn's owner's face, when she heard the news, but the woman explained that after learning of the crash on Boxing Day she had already suspected the worst may have occurred.
The woman's relief that Rory was uninjured, and not even involved in the crash, was palpable.
As was the woman's grief at the second Lorelai's passing.
The two had talked for some time. The grit and hard work that her Granddaughter had showed, over the past half a decade or so at the inn, the prominent subject of conversation. In the New Year Mia had planned on having the second Lorelai take on some of the desk duties as a sort of concierge.
She would have done quite well Mia had thought.
Her granddaughter had made some friends at the Inn. Particularly a young chef working her way up through the Inn's kitchen named Sookie St James.
Tears had come again from that particular young woman, close to her granddaughter in age, and through the tears, the elder Lorelai heard the plans.
Her Granddaughter had possessed ambitions.
Plans to rent an apartment, buy a house, go to night school, and finally own an inn herself.
Her granddaughter had been thinking years, perhaps decades, ahead on what she'd do with her life.
It all meant nothing now.
Lorelai had been shocked when she had seen the shed. To go from wealth and privilege to this took sacrifice that even she, who had lived through the great depression as a teenager, found surprising.
There was a small cot bed next to a bigger normal bed (still small). A bathtub with a curtain around it. Pictures and young children's books that were dog eared. It was poverty that had somehow been made comfortable enough to mask what it truly was.
Emily would have had a heart attack if she'd ever seen it.
Lorelai had chuckled to herself slightly. She was made of sterner stuff than her daughter in law (May she rest in peace). This was independence wrought large. Screams into the aether that Lorelai Victoria Gilmore would not play by the rules and be shackled to a life planned out by others.
A young man from the town had been summoned by Mia to help pack as much away as possible. His lack of obeisance made a pleasant change.
"Do you have any idea what stuff you need from here?" The young man had said to the dour women, who was standing in the homeliest looking potting shed he had ever seen.
"I'd imagine anything that seems like it could have sentimental value would be needed." Lorelai had replied. "Which I suspect is most of the things here but the bath and perhaps the bed."
"Makes sense" The young man had grumbled back.
"You will be paid for your time incidentally Mr…" Lorelai had questioned her normally excellent memory drawing a blank. Grief was irritating like that. "I'm sorry but your name escapes me"
"Danes Ma'am. Luke Danes." The young man had grumbled back. Rightfully, Lorelai thought, a bit put out at having his name already forgotten. "What happened here anyway?"
"There was a crash on Christmas Day. One of the previous occupants has passed away. The other will no longer be living here." Lorelai replied as an explanation.
"I hadn't heard." Luke replied. Seeing a photo of a little girl and a young woman smiling Luke felt a pit of something awful in his stomach. "The little girl… Is she?"
"The little girl is fine. Her Mother was not." Lorelai replied.
The two had continued in silence at that point.
Lorelai had almost gasped when she had found the surprise.
In a shoebox, carefully hidden, was a significant amount of cash. Ten's and twenty's meticulously folded and stored. Carefully saved away for future plans.
In the same box were a number of documents.
A plan for funeral arrangements.
A ledger detailing a variety of different information, its final notes regarding a meeting on the 6th about possibly renting a cheap apartment.
And a Will.
Lorelai quickly glanced at the last document. The law firm was a small one in Hartford that she knew well. Caspar McCrae was the black sheep of an influential legal family and at least ninety. He never succeeded at law quite as well as other McCrae's did.
His heart had been too big.
Lorelai guessed the old man had done it out of pity for her Granddaughter. Probably charging her the minimum he possibly could (or the minimum that the second Lorelai's pride would allow). He'd long distanced himself from high society and this sort of work was exactly what he'd do.
The document contained no surprises.
Everything Lorelai Victoria Gilmore had was left to her daughter.
Custody of Rory had been surprising only in that it showed the younger Lorelai had not completely abandoned her family.
Emily and Richard Gilmore were to have sole custody with visitation rights, at their discretion, for Christopher Hayden.
Satisfied, at what she had read, the packing away had continued. The young Luke Danes proving to be blunt, in his way, but also tolerable company once they began talking.
He was soon to open a Diner apparently.
Not Lorelai's sort of place at all but at least it showed some initiative. The pursuit of a realistic dream was a noble goal for anyone. Especially as the young man also hoped to honour his father's legacy by utilising the space the older man's hardware shop had been.
Lorelai was brought back from her musings on Star's Hollow by a polite cough behind her.
"The first of the mourners for the viewing is here Mrs Gilmore." The Funeral home director said politely.
"Thank you Mr Moore." Lorelai replied. "Once more unto the breach" she muttered to herself before preparing to face the vultures that were soon to come in.
Rory
Mom had been wrong (Rory had decided) about salad.
She bit into the delicious food once again that was being served at the table.
The fourth time she'd tried in four days.
It had been Trix who had been horrified to hear about the lack of green things (that weren't candy) in Rory's diet.
"Richard. This cannot be allowed to continue." Trix had said aghast on New Year's Eve as they had been served a starter that Trix had called "Salad de Cherve Chaud" which Rory had been very reluctant to eat.
"Salad is evil" Mom had said.
"Mom said salad is evil." Rory said.
Her Grandpa had snorted at that before Trix had done a "Mom Look" at him.
"Iceberg lettuce is evil. That is what is served constantly in this country. Rocket lettuce on the other hand tastes delicious and is not a bit evil in the least." Trix had said.
Rory had tried the new salad then. It did look different after all.
Trix had been right.
The goat's cheese had tasted wonderful but what Rory really liked was the salad. It tasted kind of spicy and not evil at all.
Rory still didn't like vegetables much. (Grandpa had said he wasn't a big fan either) But maybe Mom hadn't been right that all fruits and vegetables were evil.
As she ate more salad (this time with bacon bits!) she thought that even if all other fruits and vegetable did turn out to be evil she should at least try them.
Right?
Richard
Richard watched as the young woman bustled around the kitchen shouting orders with relish.
It was chaos.
By rights he should have been angry but somehow he wasn't.
For the first time in over a week his granddaughter was giggling and smiling while talking to her friend Lane. She seemed truly happy for once and so far today there had been no tears.
Sookie St James seemed to cheer up Rory immensely. Emily's viewing, earlier that day, had been a dour affair in comparison to this event, full of long faces, false social graces, and people Richard normally avoided if he could.
Richard had despised it. He'd never enjoyed the prelude to funerals, or funerals themselves. Many prominent faces in their social set had turned up however.
Mitchum Huntzberger, Floyd Stiles, Hanlin Charleston. Many others on a long long list.
Cousin Marilyn was here. Far more sombre than he'd ever seen her before.
The Hayden's were notably absent. There had been no communication from either Straub or Francine since Richard had phoned them about the accident.
Richard had hated seeing Emily in death. It had been a ghastly experience that he didn't want to repeat.
All the life had left her. The body on display not his wife in any real sense of the word.
He had however, been surprised at the kindness some people had shown. Hanlin had said to put Rory's name down for Chilton immediately and he'd make sure that everything went smoothly so as to have her in the first grade class next year. Mitchum had offered the most sincere condolences he'd heard all evening. Floyd Stiles had been the biggest surprise, more emotive than Richard had ever seen him in over twenty years of knowing each other. Floyd had also been completely honest with him.
"Everyone is completely terrified Richard." Floyd had confessed as many mourners had started to drip away.
"Terrified?" Richard had questioned.
"Terrified" Floyd had confirmed. "From a single accident two heirs to prominent families died, as did one of the pillars of the social set, and everyone realises the, but for the grace of God, it could have been their family in another circumstance. It could have been my Jason who had been hit that night…"
Richard had almost gasped to hear Floyd speak about his son with any significant care.
"He was driving along roads nearby half an hour before it happened. Nearly everyone here has an example of something similar Richard."
Floyd sighed.
"Many people in our set are awful people Richard." Floyd glanced over at Shira Huntzberger subtly for a moment. Richard nodded briefly in agreement drawing a, shockingly small, chuckle from Floyd that was still something unheard of. "But you'd be hard pressed to find any who are heartless enough not to find what happened tragic. The whole situation has been a wakeup call."
"Mitchum had stopped his "Business Trip" to France because he's now spending time with his actual wife as opposed to his latest dalliance. Hanlin has actually been exercising as opposed to just playing golf every second weekend. I think this is the first time I've ever seen your cousin not tell stories at a viewing. I think the realisation that there are only four living Gilmores, of any significant connection to the main branch, alive has hit her hard."
"What's you point Floyd?" Richard asked.
"My point Richard…My point Richard is that this all mattered. Carol was friends with Emily, Bitty Charleston was friends with Emily, half the DAR was friends with Emily. For once at one of these events people are genuinely upset. Illness acceptable, old age expected, but something like this? It doesn't happen."
Richard agreed with that it didn't happen among their set.
It shouldn't have happened now.
"Your granddaughter is she doing ok." Floyd asked.
Richard tried but couldn't answer. Floyd looked at him sympathetically before glancing across the room at a young man in casual conversation with one of the other mourners.
"I'm going to go speak with my son. I need to do more to mend fences with him and it's been far too long since we talked properly. Even if he is at the company. I'm sorry for your losses Richard. Truly I am." Before Floyd walked off he paused and said one last thing to Richard.
"In light of all that's happened take as much time as you need. The firm can cope for a while."
Richard had been unsure what to think at the end of the conversation. Floyd had been unusually blunt about how the deaths had affected the social set they both moved in. As well as unusually kind to him. "The Accident" had clearly changed things.
If something good, anything good, could some out of his family's deaths then Richard would take it though.
Richard heard a pot crash on the floor and young girls' laughter. The laughter quickly left the room as two kindergartners ran off. He was instantly brought back to the here and now.
Richard decided to enter the main room of the party and enjoy the chaos.
His daughter had decided that she'd go out with a bang at her wake. Lorelai's coffin had been brought from the home and now took pride of place in the dining room.
On the dining room table.
His mother had been aghast at the idea, so had Richard in fact, Rory had laughed a lot when told.
It had been the first proper laugh since her mother's death nearly a week prior.
Eventually all three of them had been laughing at the dining room table wake.
His daughter had aimed to ensure that there would be no sadness if it could be avoided at her wake.
Colourful clothes- Mandatory
Pets – Welcome
Karaoke- Present
Alcohol consumption- Heavily Encouraged
A free taxi service home for guests- Hired on their own initiative to ensure no other accidents would befall anyone.
The people at the wake were an eclectic bunch. An austere Korean lady eyed the room critically, a sarcastic harp player played beautifully, a reverend and a rabbi of all things were in conversation near the punch (mixed strongly by his mother's order on his daughter's clear instruction). Perhaps oddest of all Jason "Digger" Stiles of all people seemed to have gotten into full swing with the madness and was currently leading a rousing chorus of Auld Lang Syne as the final canapés made their way out.
There was not a society member over the age of twenty-four in sight, bar the three older family members (Cousin Marilyn had resumed to a degree her usual self after the first of Sookie's canapes was consumed). Many of the "society" guests though were the more rebellious society heirs, or ones with fractious relationships with their parents, or had both qualities in abundance. His daughter may not have been in touch with most, if any, since Rory was born but had still thought to invite them to this on the guest list she'd written.
In the spirit of annoying Emily no doubt. It was all done in that spirit. Richard mused for a moment. Richard doubted that his daughter would have thought her own parents were still alive before utilising their house in this way.
Despite the plan Richard thought his daughter would have never seen herself dying this young… Especially not after Rory's birth occurred.
She had too much to live for then.
According to Trix very few changes had been made to the wake and funeral plan since his daughter had been sixteen (bar the expansion of the guest list to include new friend's she'd made, her friend Sookie to do the catering, and the Star's Hollow Reverend to lead the service with its Rabbi of all people.)
Richard took another delicious canape (Sookie was an excellent chef) as he watched his granddaughter, and her friend Lane, as they giggled at the sight of Cousin Marilyn beginning a performance of Molly Malone on the piano with his mother of all people leading the singing.
Trix seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere despite herself.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
Richard was fairly surprised.
At this point any guests would have missed most of the party and turning up this late was the height of social impropriety.
As he was reasonably close to the door he opened it before the maid had a chance. What he saw caused him to gasp.
"God Richard I need help." Straub Hayden said desperately, looking more dirty and dishevelled than Richard had ever seen him before. Even after the chaos of Lorelai's pregnancy announcement the man had never looked anything but completely composed, even when enraged.
"Straub?" Richard asked baffled. "What…?
"It's Francine…" Straub replied distraught "She's gone missing."
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. In case the multiple Lorelai thing is a tad confusing at the moment it won't be for much longer. As we deal with the deaths from the accident mentions of Lorelai 2 are likely going to decrease as the distance from the event gets further and further away. Rory is going to be referred to almost entirely as Rory and the main character referred to in this story as Lorelai is going to Trix. (Her pov normally referring to herself as Lorelai and most others referring to her as Lorelai as as well bar Rory and Richard) I'm glad people are enjoying the story so far and I hope everyone enjoys how the characters are going to change. Remember that the Rory of the show is as much a product of her environment as anything else and at this stage of her life, her personality is going to be highly informed by any changes to her circumstances and outside influences of the new family in her life.
Also Cliff-hanger. Dun Dun Dun.