Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long delay! Happy New Year!
Chapter Twelve: And now that I've worn, I've worn out the world…
"C'mon, Will! Catch the freakin' ball!" Laylee screamed, clapping her good arm against the cool metal of the stadium railing. She, Luke, and Lorelai stood against the railing behind the end zone, cheering the Chilton team on. Behind them sat Rory, Emily, and Richard, sharing a thermos of coffee Luke brought along.
Richard laughed at his great-granddaughter's outburst, but Emily didn't look so amused.
"My goodness, Rory… Is she always like this?"
"Always," Rory had to smile. "She's very into her uncles' sports."
"It's not exactly lady-like."
"Neither is Laylee," Richard put in. "Takes after another Lorelai we know."
Emily shook her head as Laylee let out a loud whoop in celebration of an impressive catch made by Will. Will turned to acknowledge her with a nod and a playful bow before returning to the line of scrimmage to await the snap.
"It's like he's got magnets in his fingers," Laylee, sandwiched between her grandparents, observed, nudging Luke as she did so. "Was he always this good, Luka?"
"He and Jack spend a lot of time practicing, Lay. He wouldn't be this good without all that hard work."
"Yes," Lorelai answered Laylee's question, seeing she was confused by the answer given by her grandfather. "Jack and Will have always been very good at football."
"And baseball," Laylee grinned. "Grandpa says they made each other good. Oh, ouch! Butterfingers! C'mon, Will! Give me a break here!"
Luke laughed and shook his head. "How 'bout givin' your uncle a break here? Don't ya think you're being a little rough?"
"I'm just givin' him the same treatment as Jacky. Don't want 'em to feel unequal."
"Oh, no. That would just be terrible," Luke muttered, reaching his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. "Don't worry, Lay. We're still up."
"Just by three!"
"With a minute left in the first half," Luke countered. "We're doing great."
Laylee cast him a skeptical look out of the corner of her eye.
"Don't give me that."
"Cut it out, you two," Lorelai teased, also stretching an arm around Laylee. "Save your strength for half time."
"Cheerleader mocking!" Laylee giggled, beginning to clap excitedly before realizing she didn't have the ability to do so. "Uh, Luka… I need to borrow your hand."
Sighing, Luke offered it. Laylee grinned appreciatively and clapped awkwardly using her and Luke's left hands.
"Graceful," Lorelai teased.
"Shhh," Laylee admonished playfully. "Nonna, watch the game…"
Laylee returned to her intense study of the field, holding her breath every time the ball was in the air and then releasing it, either relieved or frustrated, depending on the outcome of the play. She tensed and sucked in a breath as the quarterback faked left, pulled back and sent the ball sailing towards the far right corner of the end zone, right where Will was headed. She stood up on her toes in anticipation, jumping with a loud whoop as Will's fingers found the pigskin and pulled it in tight to protect it as his feet returned to the ground, still in the end zone.
"Touchdown…. Chilton!" the announcer boomed over the PA system, the sea of navy blue around the Gilmore-Danes clan erupting in screams of appreciation as Will turned, bowed deeply to the crowd, and tossed the ball into the stands as his teammates congratulated him.
"That should be an excessive celebration call," Luke grumbled at his son's antics, smile still on his face.
"Oh shush, Luka! Don't give the refs any ideas. They're already evil."
"Laylee, I am sure the referees are not evil," Emily scolded her great-granddaughter.
"Grandma… All refs are evil. They get their pinstripes making deals with the devil."
"Dear God…" Emily sighed, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up inside her. Speaking with the child brought back many none-too-pleasant memories of Lorelai the Second's upbringing.
"The receiver on that one was number eighty-six, Will Danes. This is his fifth touchdown reception in three games this season, his thirty-fifth in his Chilton career."
The crowd continued to cheer as the kicker took the extra point and time ran out on the clock.
"And that will lead us into half-time with Chilton up 10-0 over Hartford Country Day…"
"Oooh, half-time," Laylee forced a yawn. "I'm so excited."
"Less sarcasm, more eating," Lorelai commanded as they sat down on the bench, Lorelai purposely as far away from Emily as possible, and picked up discarded nachos.
"Oh, Lukey… Will you go get us hot dogs?" Lorelai pouted.
"Are you kidding? The line's insane!"
Laylee joined in on the pout, and Luke caved. He left them as Richard and Emily stood, off to mingle with other Chilton grandparents and feign modesty over their wonderful grandson. Rory was spotted by a former teacher and was roped into conversation, the curse of being valedictorian.
"So, I hear there are some Gilmore girls in the market for a 'Stang," a voice made itself distinct through the general background din of the crowded stadium and the off-rhythm cheerleaders (too WASP-y for their own good).
Laylee jumped up at the intrusion, brows knotted at the newcomer.
"Have we met?" she questioned, eying him warily. Lorelai grinned at the look on her face.
"Yes, once or twice. I'm Headmaster Medina."
"Oh… the Max guy."
"Hi, Max. How are you?" Lorelai asked politely, hand on Laylee's shoulder.
"Good. Enjoying the game, though I must say football is not my sport."
Laylee gaped, offended. "Why not! It's awesome! It's like war without the dying… Usually."
"That's a pleasant thought, Laylee, thank you," Lorelai teased.
"I've just never been too into it," Max defended, amused as always by the youngest Gilmore. He assumed Lorelai had been very similar as a child. "You seem to be enjoying the game, though, Laylee."
"I like watching Will and Jack play… I like to play too. Luka taught me when I was little."
"Your uncle told me as much. He also told me you're interested in a Mustang."
"Yeah, but Mom ix-nayed that. Said it wasn't practical enough."
"And I can't ever imagine why," Lorelai put in.
"I used to have one," Max informed Laylee, immediately making her lose her more hostile attitude.
"Really? Too cool. What color? What year? I really, really, really…"
"Okay, pause, take a breath," Lorelai cut her off, and Laylee did as she was told. Lorelai turned her attention to Max. "She gets a little overexcited."
"Can't imagine where she gets that from."
"Her Luka's side," Lorelai teased, tugging gently on one of Laylee's boisterous curls.
"Nonna! Look! Luka brought us back hotdogs and pretzels and drinks and…"
"Breathe," Lorelai gently reminded, then greeted her husband as he slid back into the row from behind her. "Aw, Lukey, you got us lots of food."
"Just so I don't have to hear your whining during the third quarter. That stuff's gonna kill ya, ya know? And it's gonna stunt your growth," he directed the last part at the youngest Lorelai.
"Well, thank God, because she's just too darn tall now," Lorelai smiled, kissing Luke quickly.
Laylee, hindered from covering her face by a cast and a hot dog, snapped her eyes shut with the familiar chorus of "Gross!" followed by a less usual "And in public!" as she motioned towards the headmaster.
"Oh, Max, hi," Luke said gruffly, noticing the other man for the first time as he finished setting down the provisions. "Enjoying the game?"
"Yes, but he doesn't like football that much," Laylee answered for the headmaster.
"I wasn't asking you," Luke scolded with a barely hidden grin, tweaking Laylee's nose, forgetting the other man's presence.
"Well, sor-ry. Headmaster Medina, would you like to answer the question for yourself?" Laylee asked cheekily.
"I think you covered it, Miss Gilmore, though I do wish it were less of an indictment when you say it."
Laylee shrugged, slumping onto the bench. "I can't believe you don't like football…"
As Laylee trailed off and attacked her food, the adults remained in an awkward silence, struggling for a safe topic of conversation.
"So, uh, Will's doing well," Max finally said, choosing the safest subject. "I'll be taking over his English class next quarter; I look forward to teaching him. According to all of his previous teachers, he is an amazing literature student."
"He's always got his nose stuck in a book," Lorelai smiled, "Takes after his sister that way… You know, he read his first book when he had just turned four."
"Go Dog Go," Luke grimaced, "He used to sit at the counter in the diner and read it over and over while I served customers."
Lorelai laughed at the memory. "'Do you like my hat?'"
" 'No! I do not like your hat.' 'Goodbye!'" Laylee piped in from behind them, reciting the book she had memorized by age three from all of the times Will had read it to her.
"You know, I think he wrote a paper about how all ever needed to know in life, he learned from Go Dog Go," Max smiled. "He's an amazing young man."
"Just don't tell him that," Luke grumbled.
Another uncomfortable silence stretched on, and Max decided it was time to take his leave, bidding goodbye to the young Miss Gilmore first and then to her grandparents.
Lorelai sat down next to Laylee, grabbing the remaining hot dog and swiping a nacho from Laylee's basket. Used to such theft, Laylee didn't even look up, but continued to munch away on her chips, pausing only to deadpan:
"Well, that was awkward."
Lorelai laughed in response, arm around the girl's shoulders, and tussled Laylee's hair and kissed the top of her head, Luke grinning at the humor so inherent in the little girl. Lorelai's cell phone rang, and she fished it out of her purse, recognizing the caller.
"Well, hello, baby boy. Is it half-time over in the Hollow, too?"
"Jack! Tie, please!" Lorelai called down the hall to the boys' rooms, where they were preparing for Sunday Night Dinner.
"Mom!" was Jack's indignant response.
"Tie!" Lorelai cried back, wanting to be sure her mother could find no fault in Jackman tonight, since Luke had convinced her, however unwillingly, to bring Jack along. "Jackets, too."
The objections broke off into unintelligible grumblings, and then Will's voice joined in, probably suggesting neck-ware.
"That goes for you, too, mister," she directed to her husband.
Luke also grumbled in response, continuing to button up the front of his shirt grumpily.
"You're worse than Jack," she laughed, brushing his hands away and finishing for him, grabbing his tie off of the bedpost. "This one goes with your eyes."
"Yay?"
"Just put it on."
"Who decided it would be fashionable for everyone to wear a noose? A little morbid, if you ask me. Every man walks around, just asking someone to run up and pull his tie until he chokes to death… Insanity…"
"And yet, you're still wearing one. Are you done your tie rant?"
Luke sighed and nodded, to which his wife smiled and kissed him briefly.
"Mom! Dad! We're gonna be late!" Will called as he passed by the master bedroom on his way down the stairs.
"Just keeping the tradition," Jack grumbled, following behind his brother at a much less hasty pace, tightening his tie. He had just made it to the top of the stairs as his parents emerged from their room. "You look nice tonight, Mom."
"Thank you, baby boy. You're looking pretty snazzy yourself. Nice tie."
Jack just grumbled again in response, pulling at his collar. "Let's just get this over with."
The doorbell chimed, and Emily heard the maid answer it and direct the guests into the sitting room. The deeper rumbling of laughter identified the new arrivals as the Danes family, and this was confirmed as the four of them made their way through the archway. Seeing them together, all dressed up, made Emily admit that, despite her misgivings, they actually made quite a handsome family when a certain half of them tried. Freshly shaven and dressed in the right clothes, Luke Danes was not an unattractive man, and his looks had transferred onto his handsome sons and complemented their Gilmore blue eyes. And when the four of them were together, they were most likely smiling handsomely about something or other.
They were smiling now, clumped together, as the current occupants of the room rose to greet them.
"Carlo, Francesca, these are the grandsons I was telling you about earlier. This is Jackman," Richard introduced.
Upon being recognized, Jack extended his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, sir, ma'am."
"And this is his brother William."
"Buona sera, signor, signora," Will greeted with a phrase picked up from little Laylee, shaking the man's hand and kissing that of his wife.
The man, Carlo, laughed and questioned in English, motioning to the photograph hanging above the mantel, "And which are you?"
"Shorts," Will smiled, glancing up at the enlarged black-and-white photograph of Jack and Will on the beach at the Cape at age four, Will in an Oxford and khaki shorts, Jack in a white polo and khaki pants, water-stained to the knees.
"You're much bigger now."
"I should hope so, sir."
"And this is my daughter, Lorelai, and her husband, Luke," Richard finished his introductions. Luke and Lorelai politely greeted the Gilmores' company. "Boys, Lorelai, Luke, this is Carlo Cognomi, an old business associate from Rome, and his wife Francesca. Soon my granddaughter and great-granddaughter should be here; Laylee speaks fluent Italian."
"Excellent. I'm sure Francesca will enjoy having someone else translate for her. She accuses me of changing her words."
"Laylee is a very accurate translator," Richard assured him. "She spends every summer in Italy."
As they took their seats again and Richard freshened everyone's drinks, Cognomi translated what had transpired for his wife. She asked a question in return.
"Where in Italy does she spend her time?"
"Her family owns a villa outside of Empoli," Lorelai answered as she accepted a martini from her father.
"Ah, Tuscany. Close to Florence. Very good real estate. What is her family name?"
"Her father's last name was d'Arielli, yes?" Richard answered, looking to Lorelai for confirmation.
"Yes, Salvatore d'Arielli."
"But the family in Italy is his sister's family, right?" Luke interjected. "And it's her husband's family that owns all the land."
"Right. Maestrelli," Jack provided. "I think her aunt's last name is Maestrelli. Big family in Empoli."
Before the conversation could continue, the doorbell rang and the subject of the conversation made her entrance into the sitting room, pale pink dress sheath dress complementing hot pink cast.
"Hi, guys!" she grinned, bouncing in. She noticed the visitors and remembered what Will had told her after the game the night before. She quickly rattled off a string of sentences in Italian as she brightly shook the guests' hands and smiled radiantly. Laylee had never had a shy moment in her life.
Her speech made the visitors laugh and left everyone else, even her great-grandmother who spoke a good amount of Italian, more than a little confused.
"Talking behind our backs again, Lay?" Will teased when she finally took a breath.
"Of course not," Laylee grinned, "You're facing me."
Jack groaned at the joke, and Laylee shot him a none-too-amused glare.
"Well, dinner's ready; let's head into the dining room," Richard announced, leading the group out of the sitting room.
They settled around the table, making small talk, often with the assistance of Laylee and Signor Cognomi as translators. Rory and Laylee traded stories with Cognomis of their adventures in Tuscany, and the Cognomis gave them tips on where to travel next summer. The Danes family politely added where they could, just enough so they weren't awkwardly silent at the table, but it was obvious that the Cognomis were under little Laylee's spell, not a hard feat when the adorable girl started off in Italian.
"Ah, I feel like we have monopolized the conversation, but I cannot help but be enthralled by this charming signorina. What about you two young men?" Signor Cognomi said after Laylee wrapped up a tale of her Italian cousins' exploits in Empoli.
"William and Jackman are excellent scholar-athletes," Richard beamed.
"What sports?" Carlo questioned.
"Football and baseball, sir," Jack answered. "On teams, at least. Almost all of 'em, otherwise."
"American football," Laylee clarified. "With big pads and helmets and stuff."
"My sons played baseball as children. What positions?"
"Jack's a pitcher; I'm a catcher."
"Will's also more of an offensive player," Jack offered. "Homerun slugger."
"They're really good," Laylee assured. "They throw and catch in football, too. Will's a wide-receiver; Jack's a quarterback."
"They play very well," Richard complimented. "Both of their teams are very good, as well. We had two victories last night."
"Thanks, Grandpa," Jack said modestly.
"Jackman had a college scout at one of his last games," Emily bragged. "He is extremely good."
Lorelai almost choked on her entrée, and Luke laid a calming hand on her knee under the table, knowing she hated when Emily bragged on her family in public after saying the things she did in private. Rory passed her mom a knowing glance as well. Both knew that Emily had only seen Jack play a handful of times and wouldn't know good football if it tackled her where she stood. The most recent time she had seen one of Jack's games was last winter's Stars Hollow-Chilton charity game, organized by Will and Jack, and only then did she attend because all of the other Chilton grandmothers were driving out to the Hollow and she needed to make an appearance. (The game did, incidentally, raise more than enough money to fund all of the Pee Wee football teams in Stars Hollow for many seasons to come, thanks mostly to Will's salesmanship and the allure of watching Stars Hollow's poster boys duke it out for supremacy: Stars Hollow won in overtime, though the Chilton baseball team won in the spring in the ninth inning, leaving many thankful Little Leaguers.)
Jack just smiled graciously, if a bit uncomfortably, at the attention, before he allowed his grandmother to shift the attention to Will, Rory, and academic success. Laylee met his eyes across the table and stealthily stuck her tongue out at him, to which Jack, his mother's words in mind, returned a playful wink. Both were moving past the accident slowly but steadily, one with the resilience of a child, the other with the resilience of a Danes.
"You are unbelievable," Richard said to Emily as the houseguests had headed off to bed with gratitude and praise of their charming family. His tone revealed that this was anything but a compliment.
"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked, annoyed, part of her knowing just what he was referencing.
"You, and the hypocritical way you assail our grandson with insults unless you are bragging on him to our friends."
"Now, you're always bragging about those boys, too…"
"I also tell the boys themselves how wonderful they are. I'm not sure Jack's ever heard a compliment directly from you."
"Now, Richard, seriously…"
"No, Emily. I cannot stand the way you treat young Jackman, as if he is a constant disappointment. And then accusing him of being responsible for the car accident… Horrendous, Emily. We agreed when you decided to actively take part in these boys' lives that you would be accepting and understanding of every part of them. That is the only way we can keep them around, and you are jeopardizing that. Lorelai did not beg out of dinner last week because of the accident: she was avoiding you, just as she did all last night and tonight. We have lost her so many times, Emily, but I will not lose her or the boys this time. Not because of you."
Richard took a calming breath, knowing this stress was not good for his heart.
"Think on that, Emily."
"Mr. and Mrs. Brewington, I'd like you to meet William Danes. Will will be your tour-guide this morning. He's a junior, been with us since freshman year. Top of his class, junior class president, plays varsity football and baseball. Chilton's very own Renaissance man. I cannot think of a better person to show you our school," Headmaster Medina introduced Will as he walked into the office. Will didn't miss a beat, shaking hands with the mother and father before surveying the two children. The younger one was a boy, probably a freshman, and looked fairly bored with the entire situation. The elder was a girl, his age, with long legs and long raven hair and dark brown eyes.
The Headmaster continued his introductions.
"Will, this is Caroline Brewington; she's a prospective junior." Will extended a hand. "And this is Reynold Brewington; he's a prospective freshman." Will also shook Reynold's hand.
"It's nice to meet you. I think I can take it from here, Headmaster."
"I'm sure you can. Just bring the Brewingtons back here in one piece when you're done."
With that, he took his leave.
"That I can do. Now, I have this walking backwards thing pretty much perfected, but I'll still need you to be my eyes. Unlike my mom, I haven't developed any in the back of my head," Will smiled winningly at the group before him as he began the Chilton tour for the umpteenth time. He made sure to catch the eye of the daughter for a few moments longer than any of the others. "Any particular place you'd like to start, or should I start the generic spiel and then you can interrupt me if I come to something interesting?"
"Why don't you just start?" the father, a typical businessman, answered, scuffing the freshman son on the shoulder to force him to pay attention.
"Sounds good," Will smiled, "Over here we have…"
Will proceeded to show off the entirety of the campus, including personal anecdotes to make the whole experience feel more familiar: by now he had become an ace at giving these things.
"So," Will started as they completed their tour and were making their way back across the quad towards the Headmaster's office. "Any questions?"
"No, you've done an excellent job, young man. Thank you for your time," the father answered.
"Your last name is Danes, the headmaster said. We grew up around here, and I don't remember it being a common name here in Hartford," the mother spoke for the first time. "Is your family from around here?"
"Well, ma'am, my grandparents are Emily and Richard Gilmore, which is how I became involved in Chilton, but my father's family is from a small town about a half an hour away. We still live there; I commute every day."
"Oh, I know Emily and Richard… They're friends of my parents. Their daughter was two years ahead of me in school."
"Oh yes, I remember her," the father agreed, then realization dawned on his face and his wife's. "Oh, yes."
Will bit back any ire rising in his throat and just smiled, continuing to show them towards the office. Max met them at his door and took the parents inside with him to answer any financial problems, leaving the children outside and dismissing Will to class.
Reynold automatically pulled a handheld videogame out of his pocket and slumped into a chair, pulling at his tie.
"So, the small-town prodigy has a sordid past," Caroline smiled at him impishly.
Will grinned in return, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn't be as intrigued by this girl as he was. He was trying that commitment thing with Julia, remember? They'd just decided the day before to be exclusive.
"Some might say that."
"So what about your family brought that look to my father's face?"
"Well, Miss Brewington, I can't tell you everything about me in one day. Then I lose my mystery. Maybe if you end up here, I'll someday tell you the story."
"It's something about your mom, isn't it?"
"Couldn't say. Don't know your father well enough yet." He smiled winningly once more and glanced at his watch. "Well, better be getting off to lunch."
"They waiting for you at the jock table?"
"Oh, no… This is Chilton, Miss Brewington… We have no such thing."
Will winked and was off.