I hereby disclaim, I own nothing.
Are we supposed to do that every chapter?
I don't know, I'm new.
Gray skies shroud the grounds of the elder Gilmore's estate, mimicking the slate of the cobblestone driveway, the severity of the high imposing walls and the somber mood of Lorelai and Rory. It's the inevitable Friday night dinner.
"Mom, its freezing!" Rory whines pitifully, and it was, quite literally, with the addition of an easterly wind wiping through the perfectly manicured landscape of her grandparents front courtyard, the conditions were indeed down right artic. Fact, though it was, the temperature was having no effect on Lorelai, she was on a mission.
"Rory, focus!"
The pair are leaning over the hood of Lorelai's trusty Jeep Wrangler; Rory in an attempt to absorb the last enduring heat of the engine, Lorelai to examine a sheet of paper that had been pulled rashly from Rory's day planner. The later had drawn, in a hasty manner, groupings of X's and O's and at the point of her frustration with her daughter had been pointing to one of the O's.
"Mother," Rory blusters in a tone Lorelai often used with Emily. "Come back to reality with me for a moment. Can you see how it might be difficult for me to focus on your scribbled strategy? It's in the form of a football play, drawn in lipstick, cheeky cherry, an appalling choice for your skin color, by the way, in 30 degree weather! Have you ever sat through one football game in your entire life?!" Her voice escalating to a rousing crescendo.
"Have you?" Lorelai questions calmly, lipstick tube still in her hand, her arms crossed in front of her chest while she leans gingerly on the side of the jeep.
"No!" is Rory's dubious reply.
"Then I don't see the problem." Whether it was the calm of her demeanor or the actuality of a point made that caused Rory to sigh defeated, even Rory herself doesn't know, Lorelai just has that effect.
"Continue, quickly. I'm turning several not so attractive shades of blue." Rory concedes as she pulls her hat further down around her head and zips her coat to her chin, making a very convincing show of Rorysicle prevention. To no avail, Lorelai's attention is back to her diagram.
"This is me." Lorelai again points to the lead O. "I'm going to run straight down the middle, pausing only for a Martini." She draws a sweeping line in cheeky cherry down the page as she speaks. "This is you." Lorelai circles the O second in command while Rory does her best to appear interested. "You are to distract and defend at all costs." She, in her very best impersonation of her daughter, demonstrates. "Grandma, look at me. Let's chat about floral arrangements for my graduation party, the seating chart for the ceremony, what dress will best compliment my commencement robe etc. etc. Grandpa, look at me. Aren't I smart? Aren't I pretty? Get it? Anything and everything to get mommy to the end zone with her fragile, dangling by a thread, sanity nestled safely under her arm, ready to be spiked in sweet victory." Lorelai pantomimes the spike for effect. " Understand?"
"You're crazy." Rory utters shaking her head.
Lorelai looks at her daughter a bit panicked, her lower lip trembles as she speaks. "Rory, I can't. I just can't, I can't answer a million questions about Paris, about Christopher, about everything. Not today, not after the week I've had. Please Rory, I can't do it." As Lorelai pleads any remains of her façade falls from her face.
Rory caves the moment she hears the note of desperation in mother's voice. She puts reassuring hand on Lorelai's shoulder and takes the diagram with the other squinting at the page. "Which one am I again?"
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They make it through before dinner drinks. Rory, feeling much like a narcissist, does amazing feats of conversational gymnastics to keep the focus on her and away from Lorelai. Lorelai in turn does her part by making sure her Martini glass is always in front of her mouth, no matter how Emily tries to bait her into speech. Richard is content to hear Rory chat happily about her life and upcoming graduation, his wife however has other interests, namely Lorelai.
It was at the dinner table that things begin to unravel, in a move pulled from the pages of 'The Art of War' Emily launches an offence against Rory. Rory immediately loses steam when her grandmother presses her about Logan, she begins to fidget uncomfortably in her chair, looking a bit cut off at the knees. A screwed move by the Gilmore matron, everyone knows Lorelai's weakness is her daughter. Underhanded? Yes, but in Emily's mind totally necessary, she in her own twisted way trying to reach her daughter. These intricacies of the battlefield combined with Lorelai's series of Martini's, replaced with an extremely large glass of wine with dinner, was a recipe for disaster.
"I don't understand?" Emily says. "What happened to that business deal Logan was raving about? He's left Mitchem's company? What could he possibly be thinking?" Rory slides further into her chair, to keep from answering she shovels forkfuls of what she believes to be an elegant rice dish into her mouth, although one can only guess.
"He's a smart boy, Emily. I'm sure he has something better lined up." Richard points out between bites of his Alaskan salmon. Both girls send him adoring looks. Oh, to be adored, even if only for a moment. Jealously pushes Emily forward.
"Something better? Something at all would suffice. But there's nothing. Rory knows of nothing." She snaps at her husband, then turns her attention back to her granddaughter. "Why don't you know what his plans are? You two should be preparing for your future. Oh no, your not fighting, are you?"
Rory looks frantically at Lorelai and the last straw falls into place.
"Mother, for goodness sake, back off! Logan's fine! They're fine! Everything's fine!" Lorelai snaps, setting down her glass forcefully. She waits for the consequences, all too familiar with the rules of engagement in the Gilmore household.
"She speaks. I was beginning to think you had contracted some horrible bout of Laryngitis while you were away. I'm relieved to see that's not the case, Lorelai. Strange though, normally it's takes an act of congress to keep you quiet and it can't be for lack of subject, you and Christopher just returned from Paris after all." Emily questions, subtlety not something she wasted her time with.
"No Laryngitis, mom. I'm just tired. It's been a long week." Lorelai confesses as she rubs her temple with the fingers of her left hand in illustration. This conversation had already given her a headache.
"Lorelai . ." Emily begins her tone softer but still questioning. It's only the question mark in her voice that Lorelai hears and she throws up her hands in surrender.
"Fine! Fine! You win! Paris was great. The weather beautiful. Oh yeah, Christopher proposed, I said no though. I don't love him. I'm still not over Luke. In fact, here's the kicker, I don't know if I'll ever be over Luke. Don't worry, mom. He absolutely hates me, so you're safe. Oh, by the way, I've been home for over a week and that whole phone line thing, Rory lied."
"Hey!" Rory interjects, but Lorelai's on a roll.
"I unplugged the phone, didn't feel like talking. And mother, I do prefer a plunging neckline because it drives you crazy and yes, it was me that broke your favorite Tiffany lamp not the maid and that dent in the Mercedes in '79, me too."
Emily chokes and sprays her unfortunate, ill timed sip of wine all over the table. Rory jumps to her assistance, patting her back as poor Emily gasps for air. At the head of the table, Richard to his credit swallowed his bite but remains frozen with fork mid- air, a paled look on his face. Lorelai, rant interrupted, stares in a daze at the new splatter pattern on the fine linen table cloth. She is more than a little shocked her self, she catches her breath and curls her shaking fingers into the palms of her hands before turning to her father, her face scrunched in a sheepish expression.
"Dad, you okay? Nobody needs to call 911, right?"
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In the entryway of the Gilmore estate, Lorelai and Rory are quickly gathering their bags and throwing on coats, freedom a mere three feet away.
"So glad we had the plan." Rory deadpans as she stuffs an arm into her coat.
"Shut up and hurry." Lorelai replies pulling her own coat around her and throwing Rory her knitted hat.
"Lorelai?" Richard calls as he walks around the corner interrupting their escape.
"Oh god, Dad. You changed your mind? You do need an ambulance! Rory, quick, grab my cell phone!" Rory immediately begins riffling through Lorelai's bag in a panic.
"No, no, no. Rory, stop. I'm fine, fit as a fiddle. Lorelai, can I speak to you for a moment, privately?" Richard asks leading his daughter aside.
"Yeah, sure." Lorelai looks over her shoulder as she's being lead away and mouths 'help me" to Rory, who just shrugs.
"Dad, if it's about the Mercedes I'm sor . . ." Lorelai starts nervously.
"Lorelai, will you just be quiet for one moment?"
"Good advice. Where were you at dinner?" She is stifled by a stern look from her father. "Sorry, quiet now."
"Christopher is Rory's father and for her we will always be grateful." This speech begins to feel familiar to Lorelai just like the familiar knot forming in her stomach from the familiar sting of her parent's disappointment. She bit her lip hard to keep from getting too emotional.
"That being said, the man was never good enough for you." Richard continues.
"What?!" Lorelai reaches for a nearby chair to steady her self.
"Never had the conviction. Never had the backbone." Richard reveals as he paces in front of her, much in the manner of a professor at lecture. With the hand not firmly attached to the chair for support Lorelai pinches her arm. No, not dreaming. She tilts her head and stares at her father in shock and confusion waiting for the other shoe to drop. He comes to his point.
"Your Luke, on the other hand . ."
Lorelai grimaces. "You heard that part." Richard stops his pacing and stands in front of his daughter.
"Give it time." He says as if it were a matter of fact.
The irony was not lost on Lorelai. Now, he approves of Luke, now that it's too late. He not only approves but prefers him to Christopher. Oh, when my mother finds out, well, let's just say, he better hope they did a spectacular job fixing up that heart of his. Lorelai's heart finally catches up to her head. He approves of Luke. Give it time. Lorelai speaks sadly to the ground shaking her head all the while.
"Dad, that's nice of you to say but there is not enough time in the whole history of time."
"Give it time." He repeats gently, tipping her chin so that she's forced to look him in the eyes.
"Thanks, Daddy." Lorelai whispers, whether she believes him or not, this moment means the world to her.
"Richard Gilmore, Where are you?!" Emily bellows from the other room.
"I better go."
"Of course, wouldn't want to get caught fraternizing with the enemy." Lorelai teases warmly.
"Nonsense." Richard chuckles, but moves quickly toward the doorway. "See you next Friday." He states as he leaves.
"I'll be here."
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It was late, it was cold and despite the lack of snow, forecasters had warned that the roads would be icy and therefore treacherous. Work, school, Yale, Starshollow, different schedules, different locations forced the girls to choose a cell phone conversation opposed to none at all.
Though Rory felt it was more her choice than her mothers, she was the one who had pushed. She supposed it was because she was afraid of not talking, of those instants when even she with her freakishly close bond could not distinguish the mask from the real Lorelai. Her mother seemed fine but she did 'fine' so well there could be an Oscar in her future. So, Rory would push if she had to, refusing to let Lorelai wear her mask.
In her perspective car, with her seatbelt securely fastened and the engine warming to a purr, Rory dials her mother.
"Hello." Lorelai answers.
"Mom."
"Why Rory, what a surprise!"
Rory smiles and plays along. "How's your night been?"
"My night's been great, but I'm waiting to pull out of the driveway and some person has blocked me in." Rory was that person.
"I hate that." Rory sympathizes while grinning.
"I know, so annoying." Lorelai grins back but neither knows it, being in two different cars.
"You're okay to drive, right?" Rory questions as she pulls out into the road, Lorelai just behind her. As they drive into the intersection the Prius and the Wrangler go their separate ways.
"What?" Lorelai asks incredulous. Her hands had stopped shaking by now, hadn't they?
"That was some mighty powerful truth serum you got your hands on back there." Rory points out.
"I'm fine, thank you very much. Dinner was a sobering experience. I could use some coffee though." Lorelai smiles at her daughters concern, if driving while talking on the phone, after being emotionally whipped raw at a Friday night dinner with her parents were an art, she was Michelangelo.
"Coffee? You could go to the diner." Rory suggests as causally as she can. Then she heard the screech of tires and a few explicatives from Lorelai through the phone. "Mom?!"
Lorelai had dropped the phone at the very mention of the diner and in reaching down to pick it up almost drove off the road.
"Are you trying to cause an accident?" She accuses after returning everything to its place. Car, road. Phone, shoulder.
"Mom . . ."
"The diner? Luke's diner?!" Lorelai sputters.
"You need coffee, the diner has coffee, you should go." The subtlety thing, she got that from her grandmother.
"Oh, right, because it's been too long since I've been thrown out of an establishment and I miss it so."
"Luke would not throw you out, mom."
"Ahh, Angel, yes he would. He would be well within his rights."
"Mom . ."
"Rory, I know you're worried about me and Luke, but you don't need to be. Someday, I hope, I can go back to the diner. After all, Luke makes the best hamburgers and coffee on the eastern seaboard but it won't be any time soon, Hon. Luke is still really angry and after that whole town thing, I'm sure, I'm the last person he wants to see walk through the door."
"I think your wrong, mom. Luke still . . ."
"Rory! Maybe, if we give it time, Luke and I can at least be friends, but I retain no delusions of ever being more than that. That bridge is burned, Rory. Okay?"
"It the sprit of your truth serum . ."
"Oh no."
"I have to say, that I don't believe that you're done with him. I was sitting in that dance studio, mom. What you did. How you did it. You still love him."
"Rory, I only did what was right, you said so yourself. It's what Luke would have done were the tables turned, it's what anyone would have done."
"No, not anyone. But your right about one thing though, Luke would have, for you."
"god Rory! What do you want from me?!"
"I don't know! I just want you to be happy."
"Honey, I am happy. I have an amazing and incredibly pushy daughter who is about to graduate from Yale. I run my own booming business, I have great friends and I live in a town that would tar and feather for me. I'm good, really."
"But. . ."
"Rory, so help me god, I am hanging up on you!"
"Bye mom, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Bye kid, looking forward to it. I love you."
"I love you too."
After Rory hung up, Lorelai clicked off her phone and tossed it into the seat next to her. In the cocoon of her Jeep, dark and isolated on the road home, she waited for the tears to come. The warm, salty wash to flow down her cheeks as it always did these days, usually in the most unwelcome moments. Guilt, anger, hurt, regret, a myriad of things all rolled into one manifested in salt water, the human body is a strange thing. But no tears came, instead Lorelai found herself feeling almost peaceful as she stares down the road enjoying the way the moonlight plays through the trees.
Is it possible that she's healing? That she actually believes everything she told Rory? Anything is possible, Lorelai smiles to herself.