Chapter 9
Tastings and Truces
Lorelai walked into the dining room and looked around in awe. The tables were beautifully set for the afternoon luncheon with rich copper-colored tablecloths, set off with beige cut work toppers, the centerpieces awash in the deep gold and orange blooms of fall. In the front of the room, a long table was set up with a speaker's podium and her mother was busy rearranging the flowers in the vases on the head table.
"Great job as usual, Mom," Lorelai greeted as she walked over to Emily. "I don't know how you constantly come up with all these different color schemes, especially on a Monday morning."
Emily cringed slightly at the last phrase but her back was to Lorelai, so she thought that it had gone unnoticed. "It's just different colors and pairings of linens with seasonal flowers. Everything else is the same as usual."
"Well, I think it's gorgeous and I'm sure the Connecticut Association of Small-Business Women will agree." Lorelai had noticed the uncommonly self-deprecating tone of her mother's voice and decided she needed to plunge ahead with her original reason for starting this conversation. "So, Mom…"
Emily paused and looked up from the flowers, turning around slightly. "Yes…"
"I just…" Lorelai stammered and looked down at her hands twisting nervously together, "well I just wanted to say… that… if you ever want to talk or anything…"
"Lorelai, is something the matter?" Emily asked.
"Yes… no..." Lorelai sputtered, "I don't know…"
"Lorelai, you're not making any sense," Emily's concern made her voice sound stern.
Finally frustrated with her fidgeting hands, Lorelai stuffed them in the pockets of her dress. "Nothing's wrong with me. I was just wondering if maybe there was…well, anything you'd like to talk about."
"There is something the matter," Emily countered. "I can tell when something is bothering you. What is it?"
Lorelai took a quick look around to make sure they were still alone, stepping closer to her. She knew her mother would never say anything in front of anyone else. "I was just…you've been acting kind of quiet the last few days and …"
"Quiet?" Emily asked puzzled.
"Well, yeah," Lorelai answered beginning to regret even starting this conversation.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Emily turned back to the table and began working on the second flower arrangement.
Lorelai took a deep breath and decided to go for broke. Her words tumbled out in a rush. "Is everything okay with you and Dad?"
Emily's hand paused in midair, a deep orange tiger lily dripping water onto the floor. After a steeling, breath she resumed her arranging. "Everything's fine, Lorelai," she said in clipped tones.
"See, Mom, that's the thing. I can tell when something's bothering you and from what I saw Friday night at dinner, Dad isn't exactly Mr. Happy-go-lucky either."
"It's nothing," Emily replied, still not looking at her daughter. She was torn. Part of her was touched that her daughter seemed concerned about her, but the larger part refused to acknowledge to anyone that there was anything wrong. Because if there were, she'd have to deal with it instead of just hoping it would go away on its own.
Lorelai was frustrated with how this was going. She thought that maybe with working together and getting along lately they had made some headway. That maybe her mother might just treat her like an adult, an equal, but clearly that was not the case. "I don't understand why you can't just level with me."
Emily added the last two lilies to the arrangement and closed her eyes, her emotions at war within her. With a mental shake, she squared her shoulders and turned to her daughter, her face impassive. "Lorelai, I appreciate your concern, I do, but it's nothing. Really. Just one of the normal little bumps that married couples go through. No need to concern yourself over it."
Lorelai took a deep breath and tried counting to ten. The way her mother spoke to her made her feel like she was five years old again and being sent off to the kiddy table. Blowing the air out through her mouth, she forced herself to smile if only slightly. "If you say so."
"I do." Emily picked up the galvanized bucket that had held her flowers and walked out of the room.
Luke forcefully pressed the button to turn off the cordless phone and threw it down onto the table next to Lorelai's Hello Kitty notepad.
"That didn't sound good," Lorelai piped up tentatively, stepping out of the kitchen, a dish towel in her hands.
"It wasn't," Luke sighed, moving to the living room and plopping down on the couch. "The perfect way to end my Tuesday evening," he huffed sarcastically.
"What's wrong? Is April all right?" she asked, throwing the towel onto the coffee table and taking a seat next to Luke.
"She's fine," Luke assured her. "It's Anna that has the problem. The woman neglects to tell me for an entire decade that I've got a kid. Then when I finally find out, she moves her half way across the country. Holidays are the only time I get to see April. Anna gets to spend every day with her. I get, what, a couple weeks a year?" he sighed.
Lorelai pulled her legs up onto the couch, moving a few inches closer to Luke. "Is she giving you problems about Christmas and the wedding?"
"No, she can still come then. She just can't make it out for Thanksgiving. Anna's schedule is just too difficult to fit it in this year. It doesn't matter that we have a custody arrangement. No, I should just bend to her needs," he exaggerated.
"Luke, I'm so sorry," Lorelai purred, putting her arm around Luke neck. "Isn't there anything you can do?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "I'll probably to wait until after Thanksgiving and then tell her that April is coming a week early for Christmas." He slowly ran his hand up and down her arm in a soothing pattern.
"That seems fair," Lorelai reasoned.
"Yeah," Luke huffed, "we'll see how that goes over."
"Hey, you have an agreement." She pulled back slightly to look up at him. "She can't keep April from you. Besides, I'm sure April is as upset as you are. I'd imagine she'll work on Anna, too."
"I just hate that she gets stuck in the middle of this. I can't help that Anna chose to move to New Mexico and take April with her. My life is here. I own a diner. It's not like I could pick up and follow her around the world."
"I know," Lorelai agreed, trying to be supportive and let him have his rather uncommon rant.
Luke sighed, rolling his neck around slowly in frustration. "Promise me you'll never move to New Mexico with our kids," he prompted her, trying to lighten the mood.
"New Mexico?" Lorelai frowned. "No way. California perhaps. Maybe Vegas. Washington state might be nice. And North Dakota is near Canada … so, lots of snow. However, I believe that I can promise I won't move the kids to New Mexico," she finally agreed.
"Very funny," Luke huffed before a smile flashed across his face. Lorelai smiled back, happy that at least he'd been receptive to her joking.
"It'll all be fine, Luke," she reassured him. "And if we have to, we'll just honeymoon in New Mexico."
"I thought we were planning a trip to some pretentious, over-rated Caribbean island…" he reminded her. "You've been bathing suit shopping for weeks now."
"We are," she stated, "but plans can be changed, if necessary."
"You're incredible. Do you know that?" he smiled.
"I am vaguely aware of it, yes. But reminding me often doesn't hurt either," she smiled back as he leaned in to kiss her.
Emily's eyes gleamed as she chewed and swallowed, a bright smile forming on her face. "Mmm… Andrew this dish is marvelous, absolutely marvelous. We'll definitely have to put it on the menu. The scallops simply melt in your mouth and you say this vegetable is okra?" she asked as she took another bite.
"Yes, ma'am," the tall, broad shouldered man beamed at her praise.
"I've never had okra before. I never dreamed it could taste so wonderful," Emily practically gushed, taking another bite.
"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. I'm pleased you like it so much. I value your opinion very highly" he replied.
"Andrew, I've told you before, please… call me Emily."
He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm sorry, that's just not the way I was brought up."
"Well your mother is to be commended. It's rare to find such impeccable manners these days. I find it quite charming," she complimented.
"Thank you, ma'am, I'll be sure to tell her that." He looked down and noticed that the small serving he'd given her was gone. "Would you like some more?"
She shook her head and held one hand over her plate. "I'd love to, but I don't dare."
"Ah, Mother, just who I was looking for," Lorelai greeted as she entered the kitchen. Spying Emily perched on a tall stool next to one of the prep stations deep in conversation with Chef Andy, she was once again struck by how well her mother had integrated into the daily routine of the Inn.
"Lorelai, come here. You've got to try something," Emily called out, waving her daughter over. "Andrew, fix her a plate. You're not going to believe how wonderful this new dish is."
"Food?" Lorelai asked, her eyes lighting up. "Count me in!" She crossed the room and took the plate Chef Andy held out to her, examining it warily. "What is this?"
"Scallops, with sautéed onion and okra," he answered.
Lorelai stared at the dish a moment before taking an experimental bite of the scallop. "Mmm… the scallop is good."
"Try the okra too," Emily instructed.
Lorelai swallowed and took another bite, this time of the okra and onions, a surprised smile forming on her face as she chewed. "You're right, this is good. Definitely a keeper."
"Thank you, Miss Gilmore."
"Chef Andy, you are one-of-a-kind, my man." She turned to her mother, "Tall, good looking, oozes charming, and an amazing cook. I can't believe some woman hasn't snatched you up already."
"If you have any candidates, send 'em my way," he offered with a grin.
Lorelai saw the gleam immediately forming in her mother's eye. "You better watch out saying that in front of my mother," she warned. "You know the matchmaker in Fiddler on the Roof? Sure, she's American, protestant, and has way better legs, but still… trust me. You're looking at the original Yenta."
"Lorelai, what was it you wanted?" Emily tried steering the conversation back to safer ground.
"Hmm?" Lorelai gave her a quizzical look as she chewed.
"When you came in, you said you were looking for me. What did you want?" Emily asked again.
Lorelai hurriedly finished off her small plate of food. "Oh yeah. I wanted to talk to you about table settings for Friday."
"Okay…but I don't know why," Emily said with a shrug. "Does this Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer have anything in mind? I thought you said you had a meeting with her today."
"Well, she was just here, but she had to go. She said we should decide."
Emily practically jumped off her stool. "She was here and you didn't get me? You promised the next time she came in you'd let me meet this mystery woman."
Lorelai stepped backwards and held up her hands. "Whoa… take it easy Mom, you might sprain something. She was only here for a few minutes, and then she was called away."
"What does this woman do that she can never stay longer than two minutes?"
Lorelai thought a moment. "I don't know. It never came up." She leaned in close and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Maybe she's a spy? Or a mafia hit woman?"
"Oh you," Emily chided as she walked towards the dining room. "So what's the occasion for this party anyway? You never told me."
Lorelai followed her mother out of the kitchen. "Um… no occasion."
"No occasion?" Emily questioned incredulously.
"Nope. No occasion," Lorelai confirmed. "She just likes to throw parties for all her friends."
"Well, then I guess our choices are wide open," Emily replied.
"As wide as Texas," Lorelai answered with a grin. "We can do anything we want?"
Emily's expression brightened as she considered the possibilities.
"Chef Andy's all ready for the tasting," Lorelai announced as she entered the dining room. "Wow! Everything looks fantastic, Mom," Lorelai gushed looking over the three tablescape samples Emily had put together. They were all beautiful. One bright and airy with off white linens accented with all silver. The second was less formal, a dark green long tablecloth with a diagonal square of floral fabric over it, the centerpiece picking up all the autumnal flowers from the print. The third was the most elegant. It was midnight blue accented with crystal, the centerpiece deep blue irises. For a moment, she felt guilty putting her mother to all this for no reason, but if she was actually surprised on Friday it would all be worth it.
Her phone began to ring and Lorelai did a reasonably good job at looking shocked as she answered it. "Hello."
"Hey, it's me," Sookie replied on the other end. "Calling at precisely three thirty as instructed."
"Oh no, I'm so sorry. I hope everything is okay," Lorelai said. "Do you want to reschedule?"
"Is she buying it?" Sookie asked curiously.
"Yes, you're right; there isn't much time," Lorelai continued. "The party is only two days away."
"This is so much fun," Sookie replied giddily. "I feel like James Bond, but Sean Connery, you know, or Pierce Brosnan maybe… just not Roger Moore."
"Well if you're sure?" Lorelai looked down at the table trying not to smile too much.
"Be sure to call me later, okay? I'm dying to know what she picks," Sookie explained.
"Okay? Well, I guess we'll see you Friday." Lorelai looked back at her mother who was now watching her closely, her arms crossed.
"Guess, I'm supposed to hang up now, right?" Sookie asked.
"Absolutely. Bye," Lorelai answered flipping the phone closed and dropping it into her pocket.
Emily rolled her eyes. "Let me guess…"
"That was Mrs. Hasenpfeffer," Lorelai explained. "She's not going to be able to make it to the tasting."
"Hasenpfeffer?" Emily questioned. "I thought it was Fritzen-Heimer?"
"Whoops, I… I was watching a Laverne & Shirley Marathon last night. Must have crept into the subconscious," Lorelai said with a shrug.
"Lorelai, what are you talking about?"
"You know…" she began to chant, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… schlemiel schlimazel … Hasenpfeffer Incorporated…dadah dadah da da…" Seeing the irritated look on her mother's face, she stopped. "Never mind."
"Well, what are we to do about the tasting and the tablescapes?" Emily asked, gesturing broadly to everything set up around her.
"Well, she said that it was up to us, so I say we go ahead with the tasting," Lorelai suggested smiling and trying to put a positive spin on things.
Emily shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. "I just don't understand this woman taking such little interest in her own party."
"It's not that she's not interested, Mom. She just got busier than she thought she would be these last few weeks," Lorelai defended.
"And how do you know this?" Emily demanded. "You don't even know what the woman does."
"Well, she told me she was busy. It's none of my business why," Lorelai responded defensively. "Come on, let's pick a table setting. Which is your favorite?"
Emily looked between the three tables. "I don't even know what this party is for or how formal it's going to be."
"Oh, it's formal, black tie I think. She just said that in her last call," Lorelai answered.
"Well, if its black tie, the floral is definitely out. That's much too casual. I'd say the silver and white or the blue. You said she's had parties here before, what kind of taste does she have?"
"Good taste. I'd say she has good taste. She'd probably like what you like," Lorelai suggested, working hard not to blow her cover by laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "They're both pretty. Which one do you prefer?" Lorelai asked, coaxing her mother to reveal a favorite.
"Well, if it were me, I'd go with the blue. That way the focus is on the guests and not the table decorations."
Lorelai pulled out a chair at the blue themed table and gestured for her mother to sit down. "This is going to be fun. We get to relax and pretend we're the guests." She turned over her shoulder and called out to the waiter who was setting the rest of the room up for dinner. "Tony, why don't you bring out the salad choices." He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Placing her napkin on her lap, Emily shrugged and opened her leather folio, pulling out her list of the dishes to be sampled.
After tasting and choosing the appetizer, soup, salad, and dinner selections, they had moved on to dessert. Lorelai dabbed her mouth with her napkin and leaned back in her chair, a plate with four small pieces of cake in front of her. "Man these are all so good; I just can't pick a favorite. Can you?"
Emily swallowed her bite with a smile and nodded. "They are quite good. I've never had butter pecan cake before, but I'd worry about people with nut allergies."
"Eh…who cares? I'm not allergic to nuts. No one I know is allergic to nuts. I say if we want nuts, we have nuts."
Emily took another bite, this time of a different cake. "The lemon is quite good, too. Very moist and the citrus flavored custard is a very nice change from that sticky lemon jellied filling you usually see."
"What about the chocolate?" Lorelai asked taking another bit of that cake herself.
Emily dropped the hand holding her fork down, her wrist resting on the table and regarded her daughter sternly. "Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, don't think for a moment that I haven't noticed you've deftly steered me into making every decision."
"I have not," Lorelai argued her hand in front of her mouth and she finished chewing and swallowed. "It's just that everything's good. I like it all."
She pointed to Lorelai with her fork. "I just don't want to be blamed when your mysterious Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer doesn't like the choices I've made."
"You won't, Mom. I promise." Lorelai held her hand over her heart.
"We'll see." Emily rolled her eyes in disbelief and took another bite of cake.
Richard glanced over at the digital clock on his console before returning his eyes to the road. It was nearly ten o'clock and the water on the roads from the earlier rains left the pavement slick as he sped home. It had been a long day at the office. The morning meeting that was supposed to only take a half an hour at most had turned into at three hour ordeal. His lunch meeting had to be cancelled and his afternoon round of golf with a rather lucrative client was pushed to next week. He had been hoping to close the deal today during the game and to have the final paperwork done by next week. That clearly was not going to happen as planned. Now, as he neared his home, taking a hot shower and grabbing a bite to eat before bed were all he could think about.
He wondered if Emily would be home, trying to remember what she had said about her schedule for the day. If they had an event at the Inn, she would probably be home around eleven o'clock. If not, she would most likely be home by dinner. However, it was always a toss-up if she'd be home or not. He couldn't keep up with her schedule and the breakneck speed at which she and Lorelai operated.
Pulling into the driveway, the sight of her car was a pleasant surprise – as it was every time that he came home to find her already there. Perhaps tonight at least they would be able to spend some time together. It was the first night all week that she'd arrived home before him.
Entering the house, all was quiet and the staff was already gone for the evening. Richard made his way upstairs, figuring he'd hear the sound of the TV in the bedroom. Yet the upstairs was silent. He pushed the bedroom door open and stepped inside.
A smile immediately crossed his face as he spotted a tray at the foot of the bed. It held a slice of what appeared to be chocolate cake and two glasses of wine. Scanning up the bed, his gaze fell upon his wife, sound asleep. His grin quickly faded as his disappointment began to set in. At least she had tried to surprise him, he reasoned with himself. Yet once again she had been too tired. That was the story of their life lately – she was tired. He knew that she enjoyed working at the Inn and being around Lorelai yet he was starting to think that she cared more about her place at work with Lorelai than her place here at home with him.
Crossing over to the dressing room, he opted for a quick shower and changed into his night clothes. When he emerged from the dressing area, he had hoped to find Emily awake yet she was still asleep as she had been before. As he moved to the foot of the bed, he picked up one of the wine glasses and brought it to his lips.
Emily lay atop the covers, her body covered in a black silk nightgown and robe. It was one of his favorite gowns, causing him to smile. The rich material had a shimmery effect to it that caught the light of the moon that flowed in through the windows when the room was dark. She lay on her side with her left arm tucked beneath her head, her right arm lying across her stomach. Her legs were drawn up slightly in a fetal-like position.
Richard took a final sip of the wine and put the empty glass back on the tray. Hearing the clink of the glass against the metal, Emily stirred, her eyes opening. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't dreaming but had awoken.
Sitting up, she blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light and she tried to push away the fatigue. "Richard," she spoke, surprised to find him standing at the foot of the bed. "I must have fallen asleep," she surmised, sliding her bare feet to the floor and standing up to move to the end of the bed.
"It would seem so," Richard confirmed, looking down at her as she came to a stop in front of him.
Emily picked up on the slight tone of annoyance in his voice and his short answer. "I'm sorry," she offered, placing her hands against his chest.
"You've said that a lot lately," he noted, unmoving.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, taking a step back as her arms felt to her sides.
"It means exactly that, Emily. You seem to be short on time lately."
"We're not going to get into this again, are we?" she asked, her own tone of irritation now evident.
"What would be the point? You won't see my side of it," he defended himself.
"Your side of it?" she huffed. "You want to come home every day to a perfect little wife who is waiting anxiously at the door for you, who has dinner prepared just as you like it, who then makes you a nightcap, sits around watching you read the paper or a book all evening, and then either falls asleep next to you or rolls over and plays the role of a good little wife and lets you have your way."
Richard's eyes widened at her indirect accusation, struggling to find the words to express his disagreement. "Is it so much to ask that my wife make time for me?"
"You know, Richard, I waited for years for you to make time for me."
He groaned, rolling his eyes. "We're back to this again?"
"I'm sorry that you can't take hearing the truth," she snapped, "but that doesn't change history."
"Why is it so unfair that I want my wife to make time for me? You keep talking about how you wanted to spend time with me all these years. Well, here I am. Yet where are you?"
"I'm right here," she insisted.
His tone of voice was now much lower and less accusatory as he spoke, "Physically, yes. But mentally and emotionally you're miles away."
Emily opened her mouth to speak but she couldn't think of anything to say. He was right. He was absolutely right. All the time she had spent waiting for him to want to spend time with her instead of going to work and now here he was. And now she was the one who was too busy to make time for him.
Deciding to do what she did best and push their problems aside for one more night, she looked over at the piece of cake and the glass that was still filled with wine. "Are you hungry? I could find you something other than a piece of cake," she suggested.
Recognizing that she didn't want to fight any longer and that she really was trying, he decided to let go and meet her half way. "The cake looks wonderful," he smiled half-heartedly.
As Emily looked up at him attempting to make peace with her, she felt as if she could burst into tears. Yet she didn't. She wouldn't. Instead, she picked up the plate and a fork. "We had a tasting for an event this Friday. The cake was so decadent that I had to bring a piece home to you."
"Thank you," Richard smiled genuinely, taking the plate and fork from her, pleased that she really had tried to do something special – even if she had fallen asleep waiting for him to get home. "My, this is delicious," he agreed, taking another large bite of the cake.
Emily laughed at his reaction and smiled, her eyes sparkling as she watched him finish off the slice. As Richard reached for the second wine glass and took a sip to wash down the cake, Emily took a step closer to him. "You have chocolate on your lip," she laughed, reaching her fingers up to wipe it away. Richard caught her wrist in his hand, bending his head down to kiss her.
"It's much more enjoyable this way," he added seconds before kissing her.
Emily laughed once again as she felt Richard's free hand snaking its way behind her backto pull her closer to him.
Many, many thanks to our cherished reviewers: RiskaSG, lillienprinzessin, swimmerluver, LorLukealways, Mary, Ann Y. Mous, DieHardJavaJunkie14, Myrandah, and Addicted to TV. We appreciate your comments!