Part 2

Lorelai is at home, tidying up. She just got through with looking around Rory's room and softly closing the door. Her phone rings. It's Emily. Lorelai sighs and looks up before answering.

"Hello-"

"Is it true, Lorelai? Is there really a Gilmore in Iowa gone unclaimed?" Emily intently watches a maid set up the dinner table.

Lorelai moves into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door. "Yes, mom, it's true. Rory has willingly and without my help taken the offer as reporter and she's currrently basking in the glorious Iowa sun."

Emily continues to watch the maid. In the corner, we can see Richard in his house robe beginning to walk towards the direction of Emily but then he abruptly turns around upon hearing the conversation. "That's it. You two have left me no choice. You have willingly breached Gilmore authority and I've decided to send out the SWAT team."

Lorelai closes the fridge door, with an apple in hand."'Gilmore authority?' Mom, you're being more ridiculous than the time you tried to revive orange spandex."

Emily places a hand on one of the chairs. "Lorelai, I'm serious."

Lorelai examines the apple and rubs it on her blouse. "Well, I'm not and I wish for once you realize that she made up her mind and that I didn't choose to stop her this time. This is Rory's thing, mom. Not yours, not mine, not dad's, hers."

"Huh. Some 'thing.' You know deep down it's not the wisest career choice when you refer to a big career move as a 'thing.' I don't know how you can be so lax, Lorelai-wait a minute, did you set aside your differences and get back together with that coffee shop owner?"

"I see the mom radar is good until old age." Lorelai inspects the apple.

"Excuse me?"

Lorelai sets down the apple."Mom, his name is Luke and he owns a diner. And yes, it was the greatest thing, er-career move."

Emily is still in the dining room. "You mean the same backwards cap-wearing, bad-boy Luke you so boldly proposed to and he suddenly got cold feet?"

Lorelai props up an elbow on the table. "Mom, if you're going to continue to berate the Lorelais and challenge innocent men of their integrity based on a backwards cap, I am going to have to hang up."

The maid finishes and exits the room and Emily walks around. "But why, Lorelai? I even had a group of suitors lined up for you to meet. And on their time. Most of them quite charming, I must say. Especially Chase Worthington, family heir and third son of Worthington & Co."

"Exactly mom."

Emily sits on the sofa. "Exactly what?"

Lorelai looks out the window from her seat. "Mom, I don't want you making decisions for me anymore. At least not in my love life. And certainly not for Rory and her career from this point forward."

"Oh, so you just want me for my money."

"That's not what I said nor was it what I implied."

"Lorelai, I just don't understand why you would want to invite someone back into your life when he didn't want to include you into his in the first place after you so boldly granted him permission to do so." Emily takes a sip of Chardonnay.

"Mom, it's more complicated than that. I was hoping you'd know that by now."

Emily sets the glass down. "Fair enough. We can talk more about it during Friday dinner."

"But I thought we agreed no more Friday dinners."

"Well, by the power invested in me, I'm reinstating Friday night dinners until further notice. Rory's absence should not be a deciding factor. Besides, I've already pre-ordered the filet mignon with orange shavings, a highly-requested course and very difficult to cancel without a proper few days' notice. Goodnight, Lorelai."

Lorelai hangs up. She sighs while putting her head in her hands. She gets up to fill up the presumably empty dog bowl. It was still full. Lorelai looks confused.

"Paul Anka, has there been a sudden loss of appetite?"

No answer, Lorelai moves around the room.

"Did you pull a Rory and take off to Iowa too?"

Not a sound.

"Come on, boy." She clicks her tongue. "You can't be quiet for too long. Not when I have Mr. Squishy." She sounds the toy. No response.

"Paul Anka? Here boy."

Lorelai moves outside, becomes more frantic. "Times like this I wish I were a dog in a past life and have the ability to sniff out mischief and guilt." She decides to call Luke.

Luke in the diner busier than every answers "Yello..."

Lorelai looks up the staircase. "Luke, semi-important and completely random, but if you were a dog, where would you go?"

Luke places the phone between his ear and shoulder while frantically gesturing to a cook to hand him the plates of food. "To the nearest fire hydrant or tree stump, why?"

"I don't think you took that question in the literal sense that I had hoped."

"I guess I didn't. What's going on?" He moves swiftly across the restaurant.

Lorelai moves into the living room and bends down. "What's going on is that that I'm currently looking under a bunch of magazines and am somehow wishing that Paul Anka shrank in some strange cosmic way."

"What?" He asks while setting the food down the customer table.

"He's not here. Paul Anka is not here and I am trying my best not to freak out."

He nods to the customers. "Has he ever done this before?"

"What, disappear and not leave any visible clues behind, not even paw prints? No. Never."

"Ok. The important thing is to stay calm." A bunch of napkins fall onto the floor and Luke grimaces.

"I am but this is getting serious."

Luke instructs Zack to pick them up. "I know. Dogs don't naturally roam too far from familiarity."

"Luke, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm going to call Taylor and request an emergency town meeting."

"That should be the last resort."

"I know. This is the last resort. Hence the key word 'emergency.' This isn't just any kind of dog. This is Paul Anka. THE Paul Anka! This needs to be resolved ASAP and I'm going to need more than just two hands, two eyes, two ears, a squishy toy, and a barely-there flashlight to help me find him."

"Lorelai-" Luke begins.

Lorelai panics, still on the floor. "I knew I shouldn't have named him Paul Anka. Too bold. He's probably having identity issues and scared of his own name. At least Cocoa is semi normal and had a nice ring to it in the mornings preceeded by Puffs. Then again, it's not highly recommended to feed chocolate or chocolate-flavored food to dogs."

Luke throws a towel on his shoulder. "Yeah, probably not. What can I do to help, Lorelai?"

"I don't know? Try and round up as many people as you can plus or minus blabbermouths Kirk and Babette and I'll be there to discuss the emergency town meeting. Ugh, you know Luke? I can see it now: 'Crazed 38-Year Old Mother of One Loses Cute and Frightened Pup Named Paul Anka.' I can never show face in this town again."

"Ironic."

"Exactly."

"I'm on it."

"Great."

"I just don't want to be associated with a crazed pet owner, you know?"

"Um, excuse me? I just heard you refer to me as a crazy pet owner, did I not?"

"Inside joke."

"Yeah. Sure."

"You're so cute when you get defensive."

"And I've never been cuter. Luke, Paul Anka time. Focus!"

"Right. Paul Anka." Both hang up.

To no one, Lorelai says out loud, "Is this my punishment for letting Rory run after the Presidential hopeful in Iowa, Paul Anka? I still love you but once I find you, you are SO gonna get it. And by 'it' I mean lots of hugs and kisses, you silly dog."

Switching over to the diner, Zack asks Luke "Who's a crazy pet owner?"

"You know, it's funny, Zack. The average person's attention span drops significantly when asking questions while completing tasks," Luke replies narrowing evading the question while he scribbles on a notepad.

"Point taken, sir." Zack exits into the kitchen. Luke nervously looks around the restaurant and its patrons. Almost feeling like he needs to make the announcement for a town meeting, he backs down once he hears the bell behind him ding. "Order up!"